The Blue Area of the Moon
Attilan…

The slightest breeze swelled, swirling in the confines of the dim alleyway, roiling back, dusting the grimy, yellowed walls in the dead-end blind. Filth and debris fluttered, blowing high, twisting on the slight wind as it blew back, circulating into the streets proper once again. Those few walking the streets, braving the curfew hurried along, ignoring the dirt and detriment that marred their once proud and beautiful city. The breeze was common enough even here, expected when the ancient machines lodged far beneath the city rebooted in their endless cycle of rejuvenation, the beginning of another glorious new day.

And since HIS return, they were used to the dirt.

The city’s state of being, or lack of it was a direct result of HIS glory. The Alpha Primitives had flocked to HIM of course, like vermin to the Piper’s seductive call. They worshipped HIM- they always had. HIS madness was like sweets to their child-like understanding. HE promised them life and respect, their own glory as equals amongst the people- as if.

As if that would work again, this time when it had failed so many times before. The Alpha Primitives were just too… ignorant of the ways of the people. They were slow-witted, almost bestial in their own society such as it was. The people knew that the Alpha Primitives would never mesh with the true society of Attilan, yet by HIS decree it must happen again, and as always the drones gathered to HIS very word and being.

And there were others too. There were always those of lesser will and determination who were willing to relinquish their freedoms for someone else’s dreams and goals. There were always those more willing to follow. And when HE had returned HE had given them all a choice; follow and serve…

Or die!

And they had, by the score. The bodies could be seen from the fringes at the edge of the city, and from the higher towers and minarets. They were piled high, stacked neatly at first then simply heaped beyond the protective atmosphere of the Blue Area beyond the borders of Attilan. There they would be preserved in the icy void of the barren surface of the moon forever. Both tribute to HIS rule, and warning for those that might question, or dare rebel. And thus it was.

And slowly the city fell to ruin. The Alpha Primitives no longer worked save for those that HE decreed were essential in the survival of the People. And they were overseers and masters lording over the true working class now, those that had chosen a life of servile drudgery over the cold grip of death. Those that now followed HIS rule, the glory that was Maximus…

Maximus the Mad!

And so it was that Degena once of the House of Harta hurried along the filthy, wind-swept streets as darkness closed about her. The Sleep Cycle had begun, and she was late, her duties at the Public House having kept her beyond her work shift. It was just that the primitives were so filthy and disgusting. She had thought that the baths would never come clean, and there had been so many filing through the halls. Failure of course meant punishment, and she could not stand that again. Still, being on the streets no matter the reason after curfew was punishable by death, and she did not wish that either.

So she hurried on, keeping her hood up and her head down, her rushed footfalls tapping softly atop the chipped pavement and littered debris. Almost home-

“Hai, citizen!”

Almost…

Degena gasped, almost skidding to a stop and looking up to the shadowy group blocking her way. They were five in all; two vaunted and respected warriors of the new ruling class and three of the Enforcers, those Primitives that had returned with Maximus from the great beyond and exile. They were huge brutes, heaving and muscular. Their dark eyes showed no emotion but the savagery of their lot in life as they stared at her almost lustfully. Long, jagged teeth jutted from their grinning lips as they waited for the two Lords to decree her fate.

It was Stallior that approached first, his own massive body rocking from side to side as his equine hooves clattered about the chipped and broken cobbled streets of Low Town. He was grinning too, leering as his golden armor sparkled in the dim glow of an ambient stick stationed at the intersection of two crossing paths. He held his chained mace casually, the metal links dangling and clanking as he trotted forward.

Degena quivered, trying to remain humble in his presence as he reached out and cast her hood back. The writhing reeds of her hair sprang forth immediately, free of the thick, encumbering material of her hooded cloak, shifting quickly to a timid, jaundiced yellow to match her fearful mood. She heard Aireo laugh from his position still with the Enforcers-

“It’s Degena,” he said with a chuckle, moving forward on recognition, gliding just above the pavement. He swooped about, circling both she and Stallior once before hovering at her side and reaching out with his own hand. She shivered to feel his touch.

“Sweet, Degena,” he cooed leaning close. She could smell nectar on his breath, see the tint of red in his eyes when she dared look up. Drunk. Drunk with power.

“You know this citizen, brother?” Stallior asked, deferring to his fellow and Aireo nodded.

“Not as closely as I would have once liked,” he said with an evil sneer. “She rejected me years ago when I was relieved of my duties as Perimeter Patrolman after the rebellion. I imagine she wishes she had been more kind to me now, eh?”

Degena’s face twisted in disgust as Aireo caressed her cheek, then grabbed her chin. She bit her tongue, gasping back a rebuke as Aireo leaned in to steal a kiss and feeling her roughly and familiarly. Tears welled as she clenched her eyelids tight. She heard Stallior’s cruel laugh-

“Remind her that it is death to defy curfew, brother. Show her the one way to redeem herself- to us all- and we may be forgiv-“

Fire erupted about them, high blazing pillars of brilliance ringing about the trio of Inhumans. Degena heard Stallior’s scream as his tail waved ablaze, sweeping fire as he danced and reared madly. Aireo gasped and broke away, spinning in mid air with wide, wild eyes trying to see what had happened to cause the sudden inferno. Degena fell back, curling in fear away from the flames, her own gaze scanning the flickering streets-

“Let her go!”

Both Degena and Aireo gasped and looked skyward at the harsh, commanding voice. Just above the licking fires stood a man in mid air, his own body awash with crackling flame. Degena squinted into the glare, the brilliance of his form and finally the tears began to fall free. She recognized her savior. She had seen him before, many times. It was Johnny Storm- the Human Torch!

And if he was here, then so too was the rest of…

The Fantastic Four!

: MR. FANTASTIC

: INVISIBLE WOMAN

: THE THING

: HUMAN TORCH

: BLACK BOLT

: MEDUSA

: CRYSTAL

: KARNAK

: GORGON

: TRITON

: MAXIMUS THE MAD

: ANNIHILUS

: OMEGA THE UNKNOWN

: QUICKSILVER

: LUNA MAXIMOFF

MAXIMUM ANNIHILATION

Part III: Battle Royale

By Curtis Fernlund

CHAPTER ONE – ALPHA PRIME

Aireo shot skyward, flashing past the Human Torch in a wispy azure blur, his speed astounding. Johnny Storm cursed to be caught unprepared and flew after the Inhuman, first absorbing the fires that he had unleashed, drawing them back-

“Johnny!”

If the Torch heard his sister’s cry he did not answer, his attention riveted on the flying Inhuman still streaking straight up like a missile. Susan Richards stared after her sibling however, watching even as she concentrated. She hoped that her brother would remember just where they were and the limitations of Attilan. She hoped that he would be all right.

“Sorry, Reed,” she said, focusing her attention on the remaining Inhumans, the renegade Stallior and the woman that he and Aireo had been attempting to molest. She easily projected her Invisible Force Field about the centaurian Inhuman, holding his lower body immobile and trapping his ball and chain as well, much to his anger and frustration. She could see him struggling to break free, though she did not feel the slightest strain. He was nowhere near powerful enough to break free of her power.

“It’s all right, Susan,” Reed Richards said and she felt her husband’s reassuring hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “I was just as surprised that Aireo had the quick wit to respond so swiftly. From the files that Triton provided us years ago I would not have expected it. In fact he seemed more startled by the sudden flames than he actually did by our appearance.”

“You think they knew we were coming?” she asked, glancing away at the sounds of battle. Not so far away Ben Grimm was holding his own against the three burly Alpha Primitives. They were huge compared to those that she had seen in the past and wondered briefly if they were some other breed of the Inhumans’ ‘working class’, or if perhaps they had been altered by the Terrigen Mists. She had thought that the Mists did not work on the Alpha Primitives. Perhaps she was wrong. Regardless, they appeared little trouble for the Thing.

“I don’t know,” Reed said following her gaze. “It’s possible I suppose. Ben?”

“Yeah?”

Reed and Susan Richards both winced as the Thing slammed his fist down onto the back of the second Primitive, driving him into the ground with earth shattering force. The first of the three was already unconscious on the ground, imbedded into a small crater in the street from when the Thing had slammed him bodily and brutally face first. But even as the second succumbed to the Thing’s obviously greater strength, the third smashed into Ben’s back, sending both sprawling.

“I was going to ask if you needed assistance, old friend.”

“Are you kiddin’ me?” the Thing snarled, almost chuckling. “These mugs are tough but they ain’t got nothin’ on Joes like Namor an’ the Hulk. Mebbe if they knew how ta fight, but I ain’t even breakin’ a sweat yet.”

Susan smiled as the Thing pressed his legs up and out, smashing into the Primitive’s chest as he dove at Ben’s downed form. The Alpha Primitive went flying despite his bulk, and Ben Grimm quickly scrambled to his feet to give chase. Ben was obviously stronger, but the Primitives were faster. He was right however in that they had no style or finesse in the way that they fought, simply pounding like thugs.

She saw Reed smile and turn away, back to Stallior, then turned herself when a look of curiosity washed over his face. She saw Stallior standing there alone, still trapped by her force field. The woman had run off already, probably terrified, but the centaur did not seem to mind, or even notice. His neck was craned back as he watched the inky skies overhead. The Invisible Woman looked up as well and gasped-

“What?”

“A signal, obviously,” Reed Richards answered with absolute assurity. “Aireo is apparently more intelligent than I gave him credit. They were expecting us.”

The Invisible Woman stared at the blazing image of a gigantic ‘4’ as it drifted on the recycled breeze. They had known, and the flying Inhuman had led her brother on a merry chase, arcing up and back letting the Torch’s blazing trail announce their arrival. She heard Stallior laughing-

“Human scum!” he shouted, mocking them with insults. “Now you are doomed! The glory of Maximus shall defeat you all! Destroy you!”

“Susan, please…”

Susan Richards nodded, adding another force field to the mix already surrounding the equine Inhuman. She saw his eyes bulge as he realized that his air was growing thin and stale. She smiled, her specially attuned vision watching as the bubble she had created about his head grew smaller, contracting as she forced oxygen away from the centaur. In a moment, two, his head began to loll and color, fading to blue. She counted to twenty after she felt his struggles cease then let him collapse to the cobbled street, unconscious.

“He’ll be fine. Maybe a head ache when he finally wakes… up… what’s that?”

Susan pointed and Reed looked up, watching in fascination as a dark cloud roiled, drifting through the buildings of Attilan in their direction.

“Birds,” he said casually. “Ravens, I would imagine.”

“Birds?” Sue asked, seeing now what her husband saw as the massive flock drew closer. “Here on the Moon?”

“I can only imagine that when the city was moved, the renegade Falcona had her own personal aerie transported as well.” Richards turned, looking to the Thing and found Grimm dragging the defeated Alpha Primitive from the nearby alleyway. In the distance they could all hear the sound of thunder- another impossibility on the Moon. The low rumbling grew louder though, and soon the very street began to tremble as they started to hear shouts and yells joining the raucous call and cry of the birds.

“What is that?” Grimm asked as he joined his friends. Susan threw up a force field about the trio as the first of the birds started strafing the group, swooping in with their claws. “A stampede?”

“Of a sort,” Mister Fantastic said unconcerned as he slipped a small, handheld device from one of the bulky pockets on his vest. He held the mechanism out, and Sue was reminded of Star Trek for some odd reason. “The Alpha Primitives en masse I would imagine. There-“

He pointed down the street and together they saw the swarm of workers racing in their direction. They were a trickle at first, but their numbers swiftly grew from dozens to scores to hundreds. They were carrying makeshift weapons, pipes and clubs, cudgels for the most part. They seemed enraged and ready for slaughter. Too, Susan saw Inhumans in their ranks, and the renegades as well; Leonus and Kaliban, Asmodeus and Avius swooping over the mob. None of them had the individual power to give her pause, but the sheer mass…

“Reed?”

“Best to withdraw I think,” Reed suggested, slipping his scanner back into his vest. “We’re not here for fruitless battle against the population. We have to find the Royal Family, and Maximus. That way-“

Richards pointed and together the group ran while surrounded by the Invisible Woman’s force field. The ravens continued their assault, screaming as they swooped in only to bounce harmlessly from the shield surrounding them. Unfortunately the flock marked them and kept them in the sight of the pursuing mob.

Finally, as the trio rounded a corner they pressed into the shadows and waited, watching as the dark birds slammed into the invisible barrier. Ben Grimm was breathing hard from the run, though Reed and Sue seemed only slightly winded.

“C’mon, Stretch,” Grimm said, heaving. “This ain’t getting’ us nowhere.”

“I agree,” Richards said as he pulled another small device from his vest and adjusted the dials there on. In a moment a small rod snapped out, resembling a tuning fork. He held the mechanism aloft and the birds started to scream and drop to the ground.

“Sonics,” he said matter of factly as he turned slowly in a tight circle. Susan watched, eyes wide as the birds fell to the ground dazed but relatively unharmed, writhing in confusion.

“Falcona will have to reestablish contact if I understand her abilities correctly-“

“Oh, you do Reed Richards.”

As one the trio turned, Susan refocusing the strength of her shield to protect them from the new and apparent threat. She saw a woman standing there before them. She was beautiful, looking all too human and dressed scantily in wisps of flowing gossamer silk and sandals, her long black hair cascading about her shoulders. She smiled, and Sue heard the slightest cooing twang of her voice as she spoke.

“Falcona’s control depends on the bird’s hearing, and you have disrupted that,” the woman said. Her voice was beautiful, melodic as she whispered breathlessly. “My own control involves the baser instincts, however similar. Like my two sisters- Sereen and Auria, I must be in hearing of my prey, and more- within sight. I am Elura…”

Susan’s eyes went wide as she saw Ben backhand Reed. Unprepared for the sudden surprise attack her husband quickly collapsed at her feet, even as the Thing turned to face her. His eyes were blank as though his mind was lost in a fog, but his face was twisted and evil, caught in the grip of rage.

On instinct Sue reached out with her powers as she had many times before. A force bubble went about her friend’s head, cutting off his oxygen and forcing it out as she made it smaller. Too, she made his arms and legs vanish with her power to induce invisibility, bending the waves of light about her teammate even as she herself started to fade away.

“Ben…”

The Thing ignored her, staggering forward on invisible legs, silent and enraged, ignoring her best efforts. She did not want to hurt him, but-

His hand shot out, swiftly encircling her throat before she could move away. Her eyes flew wide as he grinned with evil desire. She could feel his rocky fingers tightening about her neck-

“Ben…” she gasped as the world swam with dancing spots of gray. She did not understand. She could not think. It had worked before…

Grimm reached up and flicked his finger, holding Susan Richards fast as her head snapped back with the impact. She dropped unconscious in his grip. He turned to Elura then, looking for approval, the voices in his head screaming…

Elura smiled. “Good puppy…”

Johnny Storm cursed again as the flying Inhuman shifted his flight path and soared away. The man was good, he had to admit, and despite his years of training and adventures the Human Torch was hard-pressed to keep pace. Still, all the man could do was fly.

It was like fighting the Angel of the X-Men. All’s that he had to do was stay a step ahead of the Inhuman in his thinking and he would win. He was just a bit annoyed that the man had led him, tricked him into creating the signal flare. It was his fault probably that the whole of Attilan knew that the Fantastic Four was in town now, so he had to rectify that situation. Take out Aireo and get back to the others- no problem. All the guy could do was fly…

Johnny flew on, still trailing the flying Inhuman but extending his arms, aligning his fingers. He wiggled his fingers, watching as trails of flame spewed forth, streams of fire arching out to create a web work, a lattice in front of Aireo, boxing him in. He saw the Inhuman swoop and swerve, but he had expected that and had sent great balls of fire shooting out to where he thought the man might be; above and below, side to side.

Aireo dove, trying to avoid the web and soared straight into one of the fireballs. Johnny heard the Inhuman scream as he flew on, smoldering and swaying in his path, obviously in pain. The Torch saw that the man had been heading for what Johnny remembered to be the Royal Palace- heading for help or sanctuary. Aireo arched up, his body afire as he swooped, then started to fall, his flight path steering him towards one of the many balconies dotting the palace proper. Good…

The Human Torch followed as Aireo lost altitude, eventually spludding down, crashing onto the balcony. Johnny could see his body smoldering, the shock of heat and flame too much and rendering him unconscious- still…

Johnny Storm landed on the balcony, watching the still body. Aireo was out, but the others probably needed him. He had to get back to Sue, Reed and Ben. There was still Stallior and those three big-ass Alpha Primitives. And God knew what else Maximus had to throw at them. He had too-

“Johnny…”

Johnny Storm turned at the sound of the familiar voice. He let his flames die as he saw Crystal running at him, embracing him about the waist. He wrapped his arms about the woman that he had once loved, staring at her in confusion.

“Crys… You’re free?” he said and she looked up at him. Her eyes were wide and blue, a thin smile on her lips-

By the time that his mind had registered the first blow he had received ten…

Twenty…

Fifty…

Johnny Storm saw the blur of blue and registered what must be happening even as the pain set in and his vision started to gray. He staggered back, trying to will his flame alight, but it was too late and Crystal held him fast.

“Flame…” he said as he collapsed to the ground. He saw Crystal’s form shimmering, laughing. It was not Crystal he realized as he fell away.

“Very good, pet,” Sereen said as she stepped from the shadows to stand over the prone form of the Human Torch. “And you too sister.”

Crystal’s form wavered to reveal a beautiful red-haired woman dressed in silky strips of gossamer. The new woman stepped right up over the Torch, smiling wide as she glanced at the mutant Quicksilver already kneeling at her sister’s side. He was not even breathing hard as he hung his head subserviently, awaiting his next command.

“Our liege will be pleased,” Sereen said as she looked to the Torch, then to her sister. “You have him?”

“Of course,” Auria said with a wide grin. “Despite his hidden powers, he is just Human, and a man after all.”

Sereen laughed, nudging the Torch’s still form with the toe of her sandal. Johnny Storm did not move in the least. “Too true,” she said, directing her mutant slave to pick up their conquest as she turned and walked away…

CHAPTER TWO – DELTA FORCE

He dreamed of Poe…

Why, he did not understand- not at first at any rate. He had read the classics of course. They were required in the English Literature and Grammar course that he had been forced to take back in college at State University. He had never understood why, when his chosen field- fields of degree- had been so far and removed from so mundane and wasteful a course. He could read after all, and well for that matter. He had always had trouble grasping the concepts behind the writing though; the author’s hidden motive, what he or she was trying to say. He had always assumed that authors simply had a passion to tell a story, thus the end result.

He had almost failed that class.

Oddly, Doom had embraced it. He remembered that Victor had relished Poe and Shelly especially. They had both enjoyed Wells and Verne and had spent many an hour arguing over the details of some of those author’s more profound rationalizations concerning the future of mankind.

He remembered that he and Victor had almost seemed friends then, for a time…

Reed Richards opened his eyes to the annoying tapping reverberating through his head. A tap- tap- tapping coupled with Falcona’s ravens and he immediately made the connection. He forced a smile even as he tried to focus.

His sight was blurry. Too, he felt cramped and aching in his bones and joints, and that alone was enough to let his eyes fly wide. He did not get joint pains. Not anymore, not since the accident that had forever changed his life and the lives of his best friend and family. His body simply did not work that way anymore; his bones and organs, his entire nervous system had all been cosmically altered into a nearly fluid state that did not degrade. Simple aches and pains did not even factor into the equation, yet he felt the tear and pain of muscle cramps as he tried to stretch, to simply extend his arms and legs and found that he could not.

He was in a cube. A crystalline enclosure that was barely large enough to hold his normal stature, even curled up as he was; his legs folded and his knees up under his chin, his arms crossed about his doubled midsection. Some movement was possible, but his elbows quickly pressed to the sides of the cube, his head thumping against the semi-clear roof. He winced, trying to ease the long, forgotten pains-

“Hello, Professor!”

He could barely hear the muffled voice, but from the wavering sound he could tell that it was shouting to be heard. He looked about, at least as far as he was able- barely a 180-degree arch stretching to the limits of his peripheral vision. He saw a shadow flowing about the confines of his ‘box’, a silvery blur that crystallized slightly as it seemed to move closer. He saw a face swim in the shimmering haze beyond, grinning and leering-

“Maximus…”

Richard’s blinked as Maximus leaned in and pressed his face to the glass. He could see the madness in the glaring blue eyes as the head cocked from side to side. He watched as the Inhuman pressed his lips to the box, his cheeks puffing wide and full as he exhaled. Maximus staggered back and fell away, laughing.

“I am sorry for the accommodations… ‘Stretcho’ … Heh… But truly, no, I’m not. I want you to burn in whatever Hell satisfies your ego, Richards, and I hope your last moments are as agonizing as I can make them. You’ve thwarted my destiny far too many times in the past, your own vaunted brain overshadowing mine on far too many occasions, and quite frankly, I’ve had enough. If not for you I would have been ruling Attilan long ago. My brother is far too naïve and- well… stupid to counter my glorious intelligence. If not for you and your insipid kith he would be begging pennies in Hell’s Kitchen. Medusa would have been the true breadwinner however. Can you imagine just how satisfying she might have become on the street corners of Manhattan? What she might have accomplished, the tricks she might have turned with that hair…

“But you and yours had to come along and spoil it all.”

Maximus shrugged and stalked away, becoming just a silver blur in the distance again. Richards watched, trying to stay focused on his captor as he probed his tiny prison. There was air obviously. The confines of his prison could not support his life for long without, but though it was stale there was oxygen. He could not seem to find a crease or crack however, no door of any sort so he had to assume that he had been sealed within and the cube then made tight. So where was the air coming from? And how had his powers been negated?

Maximus certainly had the capability and intelligence to do the latter if he was lucid. The man was a genius after all, well within the same league as he and Doom, Stark and Pym. It was his madness that had been his undoing in the past however. That, and his arrogance of course-

“Are you listening to me!”

Richards jumped as Maximus slammed his fist down onto the cube, noting the lack of echo within, though the ‘glass’ seemed to vibrate with the force of the blow. Richards’ mind raced as he tried to collate the various bits and pieces of data that he was receiving, trying to figure the solution, how it all added up and just how he might use the result to hopefully escape and then turn his knowledge against his Inhuman captor.

“I said,” Maximus said leaning in again, “Since you can’t seem to concentrate on what I have to say, perhaps I’ll pay a visit to your lovely wife. Perhaps I’ll make her my concubine, impregnate her- vulgar as the thought is, crossbreeding and all that, but then my own family was always fond of inbreeding. We must keep the line pure, after all. I know… I’ll give her over to the Alpha Primitives. They’re none too picky, and a virile lot. And they do breed like the mindless vermin that they are. Can you imagine your wife’s horror when I confront her with her future? Oh, the humanity.” Maximus feigned emotional exhaustion, striking an overly dramatic pose, one hand on his hip, the other to his forehead. Before too long though the madness overtook him once again and he started to giggle.

Richards screamed, slamming his fists against the walls of his tiny prison, trying to escape. He heard Maximus’ laughter as the mad man walked away, blurring with distance. Other shadows flitted in his wake- his followers no doubt- but Richards did not care. He had to get out!

He had to save Sue!

And that of course was the clue. Reed Richards calmed himself quickly, his mind focusing on long and complicated calculations as he let his breathing gradually slow, his heart rate recede to something normal. Emotional outbursts had their proper time and place, but not in his current predicament. Only clear thinking and logical process would free him in this case, and knowledge.

It had been Maximus’ own boasting that had provided the clue he needed to at least determine the cause of his environs. That, along with his initial probing led his thought process in one logical direction. It was the blur of the container that had confused him at first, but the oxygen seeping in somehow, the lack of echo in the chamber and the odd vibrations that resulted from the concussive battering- the answer was obvious.

He was in one of Susan’s force fields, or something very similar. Just how Maximus had managed that he could not theorize, nor did it truly matter. It was so, and that was all that he needed to know to formulate a plan to effect his escape. Luckily he had the means at his disposal.

There had been too many times over the course of the Fantastic Four’s career when one of their foes had found a way to turn the teammates against one another. The Puppet Master sprang immediately to mind. There had been Geiger of course, when he had mind-controlled Ben for a time, playing on his hate and depression, making him a member of the evil FF. He himself had once been possessed by the Overmind. And of course there was the Psycho Man. His attempt to corrupt Susan had actually been the worst, twisting her emotions darkly and creating another, evil persona known as Malice. They had beaten Susan of course, as with any form of mind control from the Purple Man to the Controller, the enthralled lacked some wit, making their own thought processes slower, depressing that internal spark that made them what they truly were- themselves.

It was after that confrontation with Malice that Reed Richards realized that he could not rely on chance to safeguard his comrades or himself for that matter, from various forms of possession. He could not train the others to defend against mind control. He was not Professor Xavier, and frankly there were far too many ways that it had been accomplished and used against them; science, magic, Diablo’s alchemy. The list was almost infinite, as varied as the antagonists that they faced on a regular basis. What he could do however, was plan for the contingency by finding ways to negate their powers and render them useless- his own included. For Ben and Johnny that was generally simple enough. There were a myriad ways to extinguish the flames of the Human Torch. And Ben, for all his battle savvy was still basically strength personified. It was Susan that presented the greatest dilemma, her powers the greatest challenge.

Ironically it was one of Maximus’ original schemes that had provided his initial hypothesis to negating, or at least sidestepping Susan’s powers. The Nega-Dome that the mad Inhuman had sealed about Attilan on their first meeting had offered incredible opportunity for study on countless levels of subject. Not the least of those included Susan’s own manipulation of the Hyper-Dimensional force from which she drew her cosmic powers. That Nega-Dome had been shattered by a unique form of Sonics- Black Bolt’s own hidden ability, but Richards theorized that similar technique might possibly work under a variety of circumstance.

It had actually been the Black Panther’s own research into the fields of sound and Sonics that had given Richards the final insight. They had all fought Klaw before, the self-proclaimed master of sound, and T’Challa’s own resources were at least in part based on the wealth of Vibranium that was both boon and bane to his homeland nation, Wakanda. Couple that with the Four’s recent financial difficulties, which left the team at the beck and call of SHIELD, and also left them a keystroke from that organization’s technology and resources, and the means were easily created. If Fury knew just why the Fantastic Four was so willing to kowtow to the government’s demands, he wisely said nothing and looked the opposite direction all too often. Their uneasy agreement was a double-edged sword.

It was SHIELD’s own refurbishing of the Baxter Building’s security that now might provide the means of his escape. Maximus had taken his tech-vest of course, and somehow negated his own cosmically induced power to alter the density and configuration of his body’s molecular structure, and that was the one unknown variable in his hypothesis, though Richards did have an idea on how that had been done once he figured in Maximus’ recent history. Maximus had foolishly allowed Richards to awaken, and to think, and that would finally be the madman’s downfall. He had also left Richards his belt, and there in the Infra red device that was a part of the Baxter Building’s security defensive structure. The others of course had similar devices secreted within their own belt buckles, but Richards had long ago modified his own- ever the tinkerer at heart.

Reed Richards adjusted his cramped position as much as was allowed in the confines of his tiny prison, gaining a clear line from the IR beam to the wall of the cell. He activated the beam, adjusting the frequency until he saw the expectant result, the field’s opacity shimmering, clearing slightly. As expected the field began to part as he expanded the power of the IR/Sonic feed worked into his belt mechanism. He felt the rush of pure air, the hiss as the oxygen began to seep in through the expanding hole that he had created. Too, luckily, he felt the return of his powers with the breach. It took some time of course, as the power that his belt could generate was limited- something he would work on at a later date. Before too long he was ready for phase two of his escape attempt.

With the negative energy that overlaid the cell briefly stymied, his body began absorbing the natural cosmic energies invisibly lacing the fresh air and he was soon able to will his molecules into a new, thinner form. It took a bit of effort as he had been in the ‘box’ for some time apparently, but he stretched his body to its slimmest, fully, lengthening to incredible proportions save for the area of his midsection. In the end he appeared as a compressed snarl of blue thread, or perhaps wire ready to spring. He knew too that when he made his final move he would not have much time, seconds at best if he were lucky. Once he cut power to the belt’s feed he would have to shoot his long, thin body through the hole that he created before the invisible force moved to refill the gap.

It would be risky. The invisible force and the negative energy both worked on a molecular level as well. It was quite possible that the force was powerful enough to slice through his own unique structure not unlike a variable blade cutting between atoms. There was risk involved of course, but there was also faith, in himself and his abilities. He was not also known as Mister Fantastic for anything.

He sprang. Richard’s body shot forward like a fishing line spooling outward. He could feel the energies shifting about him as he snaked his way through the hole in the force field, felt them surging to replenish the gap that he had created. Too, he felt the sudden rush as the cosmic energy flowed back into his form like a sponge soaking up water. He started to reform, his upper torso taking on a more natural if not still pliant shape. He barely had a split second to survey his surroundings and saw that he was in a dim room of stone and metal, but paid no heed beyond that. Another form of cell regardless as his hands gripped the iron bars before him and he pulled, drawing in his body after him.

Richards winced as he felt a scraping, tearing along his legs and shins, but finally collapsed in a stretched out bundle on the far side of the room. He had not escaped unscathed, but he had escaped.

He stared at the ‘box’ as he reeled in his body. He could see it clearly now for what it was; indeed a cube of self-contained force, probably composed of negative energy. Maximus had apparently made innovations on his old accomplishments. A remarkable achievement really. A strange contrast as well as Richards noted the surrounding room. It was indeed a cell, most likely in the subterranean dungeons under Attilan. Maximus in his arrogance however had not reinforced the small, stark room and once rested it would be a simple matter to escape-

Reed Richards gasped then as something moved in the shadows to the rear of his cell. He was not alone he realized as he stood and drew closer, his eyes widening in astonishment to see his cellmate.

He had been stripped of his armor, his great bat-like wings literally ripped away and leaving the stubby fragments festering from his back. Richards did not recognize the spindly body hanging in chains from the wall, the limbs fractured and bent at odd angles. He did however recognize the over-sized head straining to rise, the flickering red gaze filled with sheer hatred and agony.

It was Annihilus…

CHAPTER THREE – ONE IOTA

“Susan…”

Susan Richards moaned. She wanted to continue sleeping. It felt so good not to have the weight of the world on her shoulders, the fate and future of her family and friends. She could sleep forever if only…

If only the voice would stop calling her name, over and over, relentless. If only the hand would stop shoving her, nudging her shoulder. If only someone would stop the noise…

“Sue!”

“Wha-“ she groaned, forcing her eyes open, blinking, wincing at the harsh glare. She tried to focus, but her mind reeled as her sight swam with the swirling vortex of energy that greeted her first view of the waking world. There was a roar in her ears as well, a din like cheers of a crowd, or a rushing race of water. “What is it?” she continued, pushing the annoying hand away. “Stop it now-“

Her eyes flew wide as she felt the sting. Someone had slapped her, that in turn bringing her instantly awake. She stared up and around, rising swiftly only to regret it instantly as the world started to swim once again. Slowly however she saw the face before her framed in red, beautiful and etched with concern-

“Crystal?”

She remembered then, if slowly; Medusa’s arrival at the Baxter Building with grievous news, their subsequent journey to the Moon’s Blue Area and Attilan, their short battle with the Inhuman renegades and then…

“Ben?”

She saw Crystal frown as the young woman helped her to stand, supporting her as she swayed on trembling legs. She was weak and out of sorts, and she could feel a tingling as she edged closer to… what? Looking about she saw that she was in a cage of sorts, some type of case with transparent walls that she shared apparently with the Inhuman Crystal Amaquelin Maximoff. Beyond the walls of her prison she could see the outline of what appeared to be a stadium or an arena. She could see the faint movement of a massive crowd lining the seats, though she was too far away to discern any detail. She turned to Crystal.

“Where are we? What-“ Crystal waved her off.

“We’re in the People’s Coliseum where once they held barbaric sporting events. It has since become a place of public forum, though I fear Maximus has had a feeling of nostalgia recently. We are on display now, and soon to become sport I fear.” Crystal pointed towards a shadowy group standing near what appeared to be the High King’s private box and Susan immediately saw the reason for Crystal’s cryptic concern.

Maximus sat in his full regalia of silver crown and armor and flowing cloak in the high seat surrounded by some of his most loyal followers; Falcona, Leonus, the Seeker and others that she did not recognize- two women she assumed were sisters to the one that had possessed Ben. Down below she saw more; the woman Elura for one standing next to the Thing, her hands probing his body seductively as she whispered into his ear. She saw Stallior the Centaur, Timberius and Chiron as well as Aireo and other flying Inhumans swooping down through the stadium. Too, she saw Quicksilver, Crystal’s Mutant husband and sometimes Avenger. He appeared as dull and lackluster as the Thing, equally enthralled by one of the women she assumed. Then she saw Johnny-

“Johnny!”

The Human Torch did not even glance her way as she screamed and shouted, his gaze locked on one of the other two women in the King’s Box. He was just as ensorcelled as Ben, and apparently Pietro Maximoff as well. She felt Crystal’s hand on her shoulder-

“He won’t answer,” Crystal said with a frown. “The Three Sisters were transformed by the Terrigen Mists, each given the means to enslave Human males- and Mutant males as well. Luckily only Human, and only one at a time or it would be worse.” Crystal turned slightly, gesturing behind and she saw the others of the Inhuman Royal Family; Black Bolt, Karnak, Gorgon and Triton. They were each in a glass cage of their own, bound and contained by various means save for Triton who seemed almost dead and dehydrated and lying at the bottom of his tube.

“People of Attilan!”

Susan turned to hear the booming voice of Maximus reverberating about the arena. She saw him standing, his arms raised high and out-stretched as he addressed his people. She ignored him, only half interested in his propaganda, scanning the scene for one more.

“Where’s Reed?” she asked, but Crystal merely shrugged, her gaze fixated on her mad cousin.

“Citizens! Loyal subjects! I bring you the future!” A cheer rose from the stands, the gathered Inhumans and even Alpha Primitives rising to their feet and applauding, shaking their fists in the air. “Here, on this day,” Maximus continued as the noise died to a low murmur, “we wipe away the ancient oppression of the rule of my brother that has kept us from our rightful place all these many years. Today we wipe away the past and set our sights on a bright new future! I ask you all to turn your gaze upon the very stars, and that shining blue jewel that sits in out heavens ever just out of reach!” Maximus gestured skyward, pointing to the earth as it hung overhead, sparkling in the black velvet of space. The crowd roared again.

“Soon, my loyal and devoted subjects… my countrymen! Soon we shall take back our birthright, that, which our Kree ancestors proclaimed as theirs, and ours. No longer will we be exiled here on the Moon, the Humans ravaging what should be ours. Soon, we shall return!”

Susan Richards stared as the crowd erupted again. Were they so gullible as to not see the madness in Maximus’ deluded plans? How could he possibly hope to conquer the world? It was ridiculous, delusions of grandeur. There were thousands of Inhumans, but there were billions of humans, regardless of special powers and abilities. What did he have that instilled such confidence?

“But first, let us eliminate those that would hold us back from our true destiny,” Maximus went on, droning. “There are always those in any regime that remain unhappy… unsettled with the status quo and popular demand. Thus it is with my family… and their Human friends. Here today we shall make a fine and proper example! I give you my beauteous cousin- Crystalia Amaquelin Maximoff, she who dallied with a human for so long and then- adding insult to injury- tarried with a Mutant. She who beget the obscenity amongst us. She bred a Human child! What an audacity, this freak! I love my cousin- of course- but she must pay!”

The crowd roared and Susan heard her friend gasp, trying to hold back the tears. The Invisible Woman realized then that Crystal’s daughter, Luna, was nowhere in sight, nor the child of Black Bolt and Medusa- Ahura, their son.

“So too shall pay her friend. One of the Humans that did befriend my brother and my other relatives- the once royal family. She who is the wife and love of our second greatest oppressor! I give you Susan Richards- the Invisible Woman of the Fantastic Four!”

Susan stared at the enraged and excited crowd as the cage opened, the glass panels that made up the walls sliding away. She could feel the sudden surge of cosmic energy as he powers returned and saw Crystal stand just a bit taller as well. Maximus was planning a show for his people, an exhibition apparently, and Susan had a dreadful feeling just who her opponents were going to be as she saw Ben, Johnny and Pietro striding forward. Susan Richards turned to Crystal as they both stepped from the platform of their open cage to the hard-packed dirt of the arena floor-

“We’ll have to fight,” Sue said, glancing skyward. She could feel her powers again, but they seemed dull in her head, as though they were screened somehow- lessened. There was a queer glow in the sky over the stadium-“

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be, Sue,” Crystal said biting her lip as she watched her husband and ex-lover striding their way. “The atmosphere here on the Moon has never been receptive of my powers.”

“Do what you can, Crystal,” Sue said. “I imagine Maximus is protected, but try for him if you can. We need to end this.” Crystal nodded-

“I’ll do my best.”

Sue smiled, taking her friend’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “I know.”

Ben Grimm strode forward as commanded, shaking his head every step of the way. It hurt. The noise in the back of his brain, the voices that would not shut up…

Benjamin…

THING! LISTEN TO ME, THING!

Alicia needs you, Grimm. She wants you to break free.

THING!

“Arrgh!”

Grimm snarled, his massive arms sweeping through the still air before him, trying to dispel the voices ranting in his brain. He did not know who they were, why they were suddenly there, but they always were now telling him what to do and how to do it.

It was hard to take, hard to sleep with the perpetual drone, one voice or the other always whispering, suggesting. Sometimes- like now- they were both there and that was the worst. And now there was another, sweet and delicious, tempting and teasing…

“Kill her puppy,” she voice cooed. “Kill them both and make me happy.”

Grimm moaned, clutching at his head and trying to focus- just focus on one voice. But which? Which one should he listen to? His head was pounding, and it was so hard to think. Better to just do, do it and pick apart the pieces after.

He stared outward, scanning the stadium, watching the vast crowd of Inhumans that were in turn watching him. He felt a familiar warmth and saw the Torch streaking up and overhead, while to his right a brief wind marked the passing of the Mutant Quicksilver. They knew what to do apparently, and had no qualms in doing it. Grimm snarled and staggered forward, trying to focus and will away the pain in his head. He saw Susie there not so far away, and knew what he had to do.

It was just so hard to think…

The Invisible Woman watched as Johnny and Pietro both split ranks from Ben and went on the offensive. Ben was struggling with his own inner demons she could tell. He was fighting the control of the Three Sisters, the Inhuman women that were controlling the three men with their hidden powers. He probably would not win the struggle, but his will was stronger than Johnny’s so there was at least a chance, and for the moment that made him the least threat of the three.

Her brother for his part was following a standard attack procedure. He was flying higher to gain the advantage in the air and building his flame. It was a tactic that generally worked- once- but when one fought against the Torch often enough, or at his side for that matter, you learned his game plan. Susan could tell too that Johnny was moving slower than normal, almost sluggishly. In his own way he was probably fighting against the control just as was Ben- but losing.

Susan glanced at Crystal and saw the Exquisite Elemental scanning the arena’s field while keeping the Torch in her peripheral vision all the while. The Inhuman was good, and she had been a member of the Fantastic Four long enough to ease back into the team without a hitch. Too, she had been a member of the Avengers for a time, learning tactics and battle savvy from the likes of the Black Knight and Captain America himself. She could only have grown in sheer skill, but Susan knew that she would be holding back somewhat, just as she would herself. These were friends and family that Maximus was making them fight, and it would be hard on all of them. Which was why they needed to take the fight to Maximus.

Susan Richards felt a sudden wash of moist heat and knew that Crystal had started. The lack of natural atmosphere on the Moon would make it near impossible for her to unleash her full power of elemental control, but she was trying. In the Blue Area and Attilan there was oxygen and wind to a point, as well as a generated gravity field just a little less powerful than the regular pull that they were used to on Earth. Too, there was humidity and water vapor in the mix, rising from the various pools and waterways generated by the ancient Kree machines still operating in the city’s lower depths, forever recycling and purifying the atmosphere. Crystal could and would use whatever was available.

And just like that the temperature shifted again, the sudden wash of heat dropping in degrees to chilly, then cold. The humidity in the air thickened, the water vapor that she had laden swiftly turning to a roiling fog. Good!

Susan glanced up and she could see the glare of the torch circling overhead. She could barely make out his outline within the fluctuating ball of light, and that meant that he could not see them at all, and more so when-

“Crystal,” she called out just loudly enough to be heard. She saw the other woman’s shadowy silhouette shift, her long red hair flipping as she turned slightly to hear. “Plan Iota.”

Even as the Inhuman nodded Susan willed her power to the fore and cloaked herself and her friend in invisibility- amending that through the Infra red part of the spectrum. She knew well enough that Johnny would see their body heat otherwise, despite Crystal’s chilling fog and she had learned long ago how to compensate for that.

She edged nearer to her friend when she saw that Johnny was circling aimlessly and confused. He would change tactics soon enough and start laying a web work pattern through the fog to draw them out, but she was hoping that it would take him longer to think of that in his controlled state. That would leave the two women free to concentrate on Quicksilver for the time being.

He was already racing through the fog, almost as invisible as they he was so fast. There was however a telltale swirl with each of his passings, and as Susan watched she easily picked up the grid that he was laying down and searching. He was fast though- fastest man alive- and they might only have seconds-

“Ice-“ she started to say, but heard Crystal whisper the same even as she did. Susan concentrated then, watching the silvery blur cutting through the fog, counting to herself, finally raising an invisible wall of force right in the super swift Mutant’s path.

Both women winced to hear the sound of impact and the rush of air escaping Pietro’s lungs. They heard him fall and waited, hoping for the best. Susan felt the temperature rise enough to swiftly melt the this sheen of ice that she had laid about their position. The fog too thinned with the warmth, but that was fine. What was a help against Pietro would prove more hindrance against the Torch and Thing. As the fog cleared somewhat they both gasped to see quicksilver sprawled in the dirt not so far away. He had bounced off of the force wall with the impact, now laying at an awkward angle, unconscious… Dead?

No. They sighed to hear him moan and sag, defeated but breathing. Susan turned to Crystal and ‘saw’ her friend staring sadly at her estranged husband. Susan’s powers allowed her to visualize whatever she made invisible, though she knew that Crystal could still not see her the same way unless she allowed it by manipulating her force. There was something in the air though, definitely affecting her abilities, and that added strain of concentration was not needed. Looking to Crystal and seeing her sadness it was probably just as well. She could imagine what it would have been like to do what they did to Reed, and would now have to do to her own brother.

“Rain?” she whispered, twice before Crystal turned her way again and shook her head-

“Not soon enough to help.”

“Then concentrate on Ben. I’ll handle my brother.”

Susan glanced skyward and saw her brother. As expected he was hovering now, his arms waving slightly while his fingers spewed streams of flame, which he weaved into an ever-expanding web. He would sweep it over the field to ensnare them soon enough, if he was allowed. The Invisible Woman had other plans however.

She cast her ‘vision’ beyond the Torch, scanning the sky above. It was a trick that Reed had thought of years ago of course, and it made sense. With her ability to bend light and alter the spectrum there seemed no reason why she could not alter her own sight enough to see beyond her normal range. It was hard, and took much of her concentration, but in cases like this was well worth the effort. As she expected she ‘saw’ a field of some sort encompassing the stadium, and better she recognized the energies. It was thinner than usual, but definitely negative energy, one of Maximus’ proven favorites. Thin true, but sufficient.

Susan returned her attention to her brother and saw his flaming web starting to close. She shifted her concentration as easily as changing her mind, creating a column of force and directing it to rise, increasing its speed and density as it went. It slammed into the unsuspecting Torch and caught him in its momentum easily. He struggled for a second, losing his tenuous hold on his fiery web that swiftly dispersed as he was forced to redirect his efforts. She felt a sudden surge of heat along her own connection to her powers but ignored it, knowing that her brother was simply trying to generate more heat to fly away. He was too late.

Feeling no remorse, knowing that she had to do it, Susan slammed her brother against the shield of negative energy. The dome sparkled and flashed with the impact, but it was not enough to shatter the field. It was powerful enough to knock the Human Torch unconscious. She held him there for a moment, watching as his flames sputtered and died as he faded from consciousness. He struggled one final time, so she slammed him again none too gently, then swiftly lowered him to earth. She knew that the same tactic probably would not have worked had he been in full control of his faculties, but luckily… She set his still smoldering form next to Quicksilver and turned-

She barely raised her own force field as the Thing rammed shoulder first into her. Even so she went flying across the floor of the arena, bouncing and rolling like a rubber ball until she regained enough composure to halt her momentum. She shook her head, looking up and around as she struggled back to her feet and saw Ben charging at her again. Far behind she could see Maximus and his renegades on their feet and cheering, watching intently and tasting blood. She saw Crystal too and realized that she had let their invisibility fade when she had attacked her brother. There was definitely something affecting her- affecting them all. But what?

“Mrs. Richards…”

With a wave of her hand Susan placed an invisible barrier in the Thing’s path. He slammed straight into it, and she staggered back with the impact and feedback. She heard his yell of rage as he began hammering, so she dropped that one and reset another just a few steps beyond. She knew that in his current state he would be near impossible to stop, so she would need to simply slow him down so to think-

“Susan…”

The Invisible Woman turned slightly, still watching as the thing thudded into the next wall. She saw that she was right next to the tube-like prisons that held the Inhuman Royal Family. She saw Black Bolt gagged and bound by some metallic apparatus, another locked about the antennae from which he drew the bulk of his strength and power. He was standing tall and proud however, staring at her. Gorgon was equally bound, hog-tied in his own tube and barely conscious, while Karnak seemed held tightly in some form of gravitational stasis. It was Triton in the final tube that had called her name. He seemed almost dead of dehydration, his green scaled skin parched and cracked, his eyes red as he clawed at the tube-

“The three… sisters…”

“What?”

“Can’t… see…”

Susan turned, looking at the renegades surrounding Maximus. They were on the opposite side of the arena, but she could see them clearly, separated from the rest of the roaring crowd…

And they could see Ben!

Susan grunted as the Thing smashed down another wall, rushed forward a few more steps. This time however, she let him. She knew what she had to do. With a simple wave of her hand she cast a spherical bubble about her teammate, watching just long enough for him to lose his balance and fall headlong into the dirt. With another wave she cast a field in front of the Royal Box, wide and tall, and with a thought made it opaque. Blocking the view of those behind the wall she licked her lips and waited, hoping that she had guessed correctly at what Triton had said, what the gloating Elura had said before.

She watched as Ben Grimm shook his head and struggled to rise. He stared at her, and she could see the rage burning in his sparkling, clear blue eyes. He started to stagger towards her, finding his balance and determination with every step. His hands were flexing into fists, his face twisting into a snarl. It had not-

“I am so sick ‘a this,” he snarled as he stalked past and Susan breathed a long, heavy sigh of relief. It had worked!

She watched as Ben stepped up to the tubes, and after a quick inspection simply smashed them open. Black Bolt leaped to the ground even as Karnak fell to the dirt, his body still useless from his time spent in stasis. The true king of the Inhumans continued to stare at her as she finally directed her power at his bonds, shattering them and ripping the gag away with fine manipulation. He nodded, then took to the sky in the direction of the renegades and his brother.

“Figures,” Ben grunted as he crushed Gorgon’s bonds, freeing the last Inhuman. “Not even a thank you.” Susan smiled, looking quickly to Karnak, crouching at his side. He was working his fingers and arms, forcing them to operate. He would be fine eventually, but it would take time.

It was Triton that she was worried about however, hearing his breathy gasps. He was dying now, whatever had been keeping him barely alive within the tube now gone. He needed water-

As if on cue there was a flash of blinding light followed quickly by a long roll of thunder that shook the entire stadium. She could hear the spectators screaming at the sudden terror, a great wind now washing rain across the field. Rain! It was Crystal!

Susan concentrated again, visualizing a cylindrical funnel as she redirected the moisture to gather within the lower half of Triton’s shattered tube. It filled quickly in the sudden squall- not much before the tube’s remains were overflowing, but hopefully enough. She watched as Triton sagged, finally nodding that he would be fine. He would live.

Lightning crackled again and Susan jumped at the thunder booming right overhead. She looked up and about to see the Negative Zone Dome shatter with the elemental onslaught. It had been thin she had noted before, just enough to contain them and allow the crowd to see the battle and their expected defeat. Maximus had not expected two women to win, apparently, or think their way out. His arrogance, and his fatal mistake- as always.

Now though she could hear the sudden panic washing over the stadium. Those that were there had sided with Maximus’ rebellion, whether by will or coercion she did not know nor care. They saw their true monarch now, flying free and angry, energy crackling from his antennae as he recovered his strength. She felt the surge herself as the cosmic powers washed back through her, bringing her back to her full potential. The dome had been filtering the cosmic rays then, draining her and making her sluggish in her own way. Now that was done, Maximus would pay.

Susan gestured, creating a wave of force behind her, riding the crest as she allowed her powers to flow and wash her across the arena. She heard Ben shouting, annoyed to say the least at being left behind, but there was one more job that he could not do. Susan waved her hand and the opaque wall that she had created before vanished, melting away.

The Invisible Woman laughed to see the startled faces of the renegades. They had all scattered when Crystal had shattered the dome of course, but they were still within the Royal Box save Stallior and Chiron the centaurs that had returned to the field. The gathered renegades screamed, ducking for cover as a black blur swept through their midst and passed. Black Bolt was after Maximus, ignoring the others. The madman had run of course- perhaps not so mad after all.

Susan landed lightly near Crystal, both women before the Box. The younger inhuman looked winded and weak, but to her credit was still on her feet and ready to fight. Susan could not imagine the effort of creating the furious storm that the elemental had in the Moon’s limited atmosphere. “You all right?” she asked, and Crystal nodded-

“I can fight.” Susan smiled-

“You’ve done enough. Rest. I’ve got this.”

Susan could hear Ben and Gorgon charging up behind her, but she ignored them as she cast her gaze about the Inhuman Renegades. They were finding their courage now, or perhaps it was terror in facing Maximus if they did not try. The centaurs were charging as well, galloping at a rapid clip, both men brandishing their weapons. In the Box, she could see Falcona concentrating, her lips quivering as she called her flock. Timberius was donning a weapon of some sort- a gun attached to a back-strapped tank. Aireo of course took to the air to join the other renegade’s that once guarded Attilan’s skies; Asmodeus, Avius, Glytra, other winged guardsmen too numerous to recall. Leonus and the Seeker had disappeared, perhaps with Maximus, but it was the Three Sisters that remained the real threat- at least for the moment.

They stood there at the edge of the box calling out, trying to ensnare the only three that their powers would work on, apparently. Sereen, Auria and Elura all lined up like ducks in a shooting gallery. Naïve, or actually that stupid it did not really matter. Susan concentrated for a moment, not even a heartbeat before flinging her arms fully out, splaying her fingers wide. She heard the startled shrieks of pain and surprise as her hailstorm of invisible force balls exploded into the Royal Box. Unprepared the Three Sisters quickly fell to the onslaught, along with Falcona and even Timberius.

Susan returned her attention to the twin centaurs coming closer, threatening to run her down. Stallior was spinning his golden ball and chain wildly as he galloped, Chiron wielding sword and shield. The Invisible Woman simply smirked and shook her head. She made a scooping motion with her arms and hands and suddenly the two startled centaurs were swept up into the air on an invisible wave. Their horse halves were kicking and scrambling for purchase as she continued her own motion, sending both flowing overhead and behind her. She did not even have to turn to hear the sounds of the Thing and Gorgon dispatching the two.

At the first hail of energy bursts Susan cast a field above them all and saw Aireo directing the other flying Inhumans from above. They were whipping about, soaring and diving in what was probably a well-rehearsed pattern. Always moving, never close together. It was good strategy if they had been facing anyone else. Susan raised her arm and made a fist.

The flying Inhumans screamed as they were all slammed together, drawn into one another and trapped within an invisible sphere of force. She could see them struggling in panic. She felt it as they fired their weapons, hurting themselves but doing no damage to her field. With a thought she shot them all skyward, up and up.

Their struggles ceased, slowly, as the icy cold of space crept into them, the lack of oxygen making them go unconscious one by one. She had raised her sphere beyond the limits of the Blue Area, beyond the atmosphere generated by the ancient Kree machines. She waited…

Finally she lowered them all, letting them fall to the ground unconscious.

“Jeez, Suzy,” she heard Ben say and turned to find he and Gorgon dragging the unconscious centaurs behind. “Thanks fer throwin’ us a bone.” She was about to say something appropriately sarcastic in response when they all turned to a shout.

They saw Crystal, a knife hovering in the air at her throat of its own accord, or so it seemed-

“Nebulo,” Gorgon snarled with distaste and Susan saw then the shadow of the quasi-invisible, somewhat intangible Inhuman Renegade cast on the ground. He held the knife at Crystal’s throat-

“I’ll kill her!” he shouted, panic and fear making his voice quake. “Let me go, or I will-“

Lightning flared, the bolt striking the renegade. Crystal’s hair stood on end as the man’s body glowed, his skeleton flickering with the electrical discharge. Thunder slammed down rattling them all, but as the echo rolled away they saw the charred and smoldering body of Nebulo as he collapsed to the dirt. Crystal sneered as she looked down at the man at her feet, then simply stepped away heading for the edge of the stadium-

“That madman still has my daughter and nephew!” she said as she vanished down one of the tunnels leading out. Slowly, one by one the rest followed suit.

There was nothing left to say…

Maximus licked his lips, shifting his position as he waited, trying to find the most dramatic pose he could find. Everything had to be just right of course, just perfect. His brother was coming after all, no doubt, soon, like always.

Coming to spoil everything like he always did.

Always…

Maximus sighed, shifting position again, head tilted slightly askew, legs crossed and looking thoughtful. No…

Leaning forward and contemplating…

No. Back and casual, scepter in hand…

“Shut up!” he screamed, turning to the boy at his right. Ahura, the heir apparent was seated at the bottom of the makeshift chamber screaming, wailing and crying his eyes out. He would not shut up, and his caterwauling was distracting the magnificence. He should kill the brat. Shut him up now and forever, but-

But no…

Blackagar had yet to arrive, and it would just not be as dramatic and effective if his simpering brother were not there to see it. He could wait. He could grit his teeth and count, try and think happy thoughts until the brat shut… up…

Maximus glanced left then and saw the other child. Slightly older, still just a babe really. Little Human freak that she was, she simply stared, her huge blue eyes all watery and sparkling in the odd lighting of the Throne Room.

“What?” he shouted, leaning closer to the girl’s tube. “What do you want you little freak?” Luna simply stared.

Maximus jumped as Leonus and the Seeker came sprawling into the Throne Room, spludding across the smooth marble tiles to splay in a heap before the very throne. The mad Inhuman stared at them for a moment, perhaps expecting some explanation of their effrontery, but getting none glanced from whence they came.

Blackagar Boltagon stood there heaving, his muscles rippling from some effort, energy crackling from the antennae at his brow. He was frowning, and his grim expression spoke volumes-

“Hello, brother,” Maximus chortled, dropping back into the throne and touching the royal scepter to his crown. “I was getting worried that you would arrive before my most glorious moment of triumph. I thought I might have to start without you.”

Black Bolt said nothing as he strode forward. He made a chopping motion with his hands to silence his brother, then motioned at the two captive children-

“Oh, no,” Maximus said feigning shock and leaning forward. “I can’t free them. They’re integral you see? My grand scheme and all,” Maximus said as he held up a small cylindrical device, his thumb casually brushing the plunger on the top. Black Bolt stared, stopping in his tracks, a look of confusion on his face-

“Mine!”

Both Maximus and Black Bolt turned to another passage only to find mister Fantastic stretching into sight. He was carrying a spindly, broken burden that was roughly humanoid. The dread ruler of the Negative zone stripped to the bone of power and authority, it was Annihilus!

“Professor,” Maximus chortled as he held the Cosmic Control Rod out for the leader of the Fantastic Four to clearly see. As expected, Richards paused and dropped his writhing burden to the floor. “I must say I am surprised, Richards. I thought my little death trap would stymie you for some time yet. I am impressed.”

“It was rather brilliant, Maximus,” Richards said as he drew in his body to normal proportions and stepped away from Annihilus. He was wearing his Tech-vest again Maximus saw, and wearing too that arrogant look of superiority. “Once I discerned the nature of the cube however it was a simple matter to negate. You did have me considering for a time, mind.”

“Oh, I am glad. Agon forbid you should be bored when visiting my city.” Maximus grinned, his thumb brushing the plunger on the rod. “I am afraid that the sport has come to an end, however. Your wife has made a mess of things, Professor. She is truly dazzling. If only she were not Human…”

Maximus sagged, turning his tired and hurt gaze back on his brother as he raised the Nega Rod. He grinned. “Still, I do have one more party favor for your enjoyment.” Maximus depressed the plunger on the rod, laughing to hear Annihilus scream as the Negative Energy flowed from the rod, mixing with the gene altering gases of the Terrigen Mists. He glanced to the right, watching as his nephew screamed and writhed within the chamber that held him captive before returning his attention to his brother-

“You can end this all of course, Blackagar. Simply speak, the slightest whisper. Shatter the chamber and set your child free. Of course you will kill me, and possibly Richards, Annihilus and poor little Luna in the process. A small price to pay really, to end this.”

Black Bolt took a step, his mouth open wide as he stared at the tube that held his son. It was filling with the Terrigen Mists, swirling and sparking with the negative discharge of the Nega-Rod. He said nothing.

“No?” Maximus chuckled, turning to Mister Fantastic. “How about you, Professor? No last moment saves?”

“Maximus!” Richards shouted as he stepped forward. “Don’t-“

“Mine!” Annihilus screamed.

Maximus laughed. “I’ve won. The only one among you willing to do the dirty deed is too broken to be of consequence. Welcome to the new regime, gentleman. Welcome to the future!”

Maximus turned his attention to the child within the tube on his right. The Terrigen Mists had begun their work. Usually the recipient had to be of age, but coupled with the negative energies of Annihilus’ Cosmic Control Rod he knew that anything could happen. Well- not quite anything. Maximus was prepared after all.

He was mad, not stupid…

CHAPTER FOUR – OMEGA THE UNKNOWN

“Holee Crap…”

Ben Grimm paused as he heard the initial sounds of rumbling. He felt the shift of gravity, as mass swirled and swelled. He grabbed hold of the wall, holding Crystal close as he saw the front half of the royal Palace simply crumble and fall away. Susan brought up a force field to protect them, but still they felt it, the presence. It was dread personified, doom and gloom…

“Omega…”

Grimm stared at Pietro Maximoff, remembering the last time that they had been forced to fight Maximus’ creation. It had been Ultron that time- some number, he couldn’t keep track. That was the Avengers’ job. The time before that it had been the sheer culmination of the rage of the Alpha Primitives that had created Omega. The mass sum of all the indignities heaped upon them made physical by Maximus. Sheer rage bottled into a gigantic form that was nigh unstoppable but for Franklin and his psychic powers. Franklin was back in New York though…

The creature raged, striking out as it grew, a simple sweep of its arms destroying one of the palace’s minarets with a shrug. It was huge already –fifty feet at least- a body of rage pent up and about to explode. It was dressed in red and blue head to toe, with that Alpha Primitive face and head, all trusting and angry…

KILL IT!

Grimm?

Ben Grimm winced to hear the voices again. He had let his guard slip in the moment and they were back and shouting again. He gritted his teeth, snarling, trying to push them back down-

“Ben?”

Johnny Storm was at his side, his best friend’s hand on his shoulder, trying to help and comfort. “You okay, buddy?”

“Yeah,” the Thing grunted, shaking his head clear again. This was getting bad. “I’m all right. Let’s do this.”

“We have to contain him!” Susan Richards shouted over the sound of carnage, the destruction of Attilan as Omega shrugged free. Grimm saw the giant pause and knew that his teammate had encompassed him in a force field. He could see the strain on his friend’s face though. Omega was too strong.

Lightning flashed, striking the creature, staggering him…

Gorgon leaped forward with a mighty yell, slamming his hooves into the monster’s foot…

Fire blazed, engulfing the writhing giant…

There was a silver blur, hammering…

Ben Grimm charged forward and smashed his fists against the creature’s ankle. He hammered, battering and saw Omega falter, shifting his stance. He heard the monster’s cries of pain, heard the Alpha Primitives in the distance shrieking in agony as well. They were killing the people, the inhuman’s lower class. They were connected psychically to Maximus’ creation, the very embodiment of their oppression and rage.

Nothing.

Omega raged and buildings fell. Debris spewed as Attilan rocked with the monster’s devastation and they were all thrown away at Omega’s slightest movement. He was too strong.

Maximus laughed as he stood from the throne, holding the Nega Rod high and crackling-

“I’ve won! At last I’ve won!” he shrieked, casting his mad gaze upon the others. “And you have lost. There’s nothing you can do! You don’t have the determination- none of you! You can end this all now, brother,” he said as he turned to Black Bolt. “Speak! Simply whisper! Kill your child and end this!”

Black Bolt stared at his brother, licking his lips, glancing at the devastation. He could hear the cries of his people, dying in the carnage that Omega- his son- was creating. He remembered those that had died before, cast beyond the city. He thought of his family. He thought of medusa…

“Mine!” Annihilus said, crawling across the vast expanse of floor towards the rod. He wanted the source of his power and rule back, but Maximus simply laughed.

“Back, freak,” he said, blasting the creature with the rod. Annihilus writhed as the energy danced about his crippled body.

Maximus turned back to his brother. “Come on, Blackagar! Do it! Slay me! Slay your child to save your people!” Black Bolt stared at his mad brother, finally turning away and clenching his fists.

“Pathetic,” Maximus said, grinning. “I knew-“

He saw the hand snap out of nowhere, snatching the rod from his grasp. It was Richards of course, but too late…

“Too late, Human. There is only one way to end this now. The rod is spent…”

He saw Richards inspecting the Nega Rod, saw him sag when he realized the truth, dropping the rod to the floor in despair. It was only then that Maximus knew that he had truly won…

Still, they fought on.

Grimm stared up at the creature as it writhed, shrugging off their best efforts. Crystal had fallen, her powers drawing far too much and taking their toll. Pietro too was lying unconscious somewhere as the monster had batted him away. Suzy was trying to hold him with her force fields, but it wasn’t working. Gorgon was kicking up a storm, and Karnak had joined in too. Johnny was blasting away with his hottest fires. Nothing…

Ben Grimm knew that his hammering fists were doing nothing as well. There had to be another way, much as he hated to admit it-

The source, Benjamin…

KILL THE SOURCE!

Grimm turned towards the palace. It made sense. Maximus had started all of this. Odds were he was the key to finishing it.

He glanced back a final time. He hoped that the rest could hold their own. He hoped that he was right. He stalked off towards the palace…

Richards’ hand shot out, his fist connecting with the jaw of Maximus. The madman spun about, his latest fit of cackles stuck in his throat as he collapsed to the floor, blessedly unconscious. At last- it was almost impossible to think.

Reed Richards stared up and up at the still growing figure of Omega, what had once been the son of Black Bolt and Medusa; Ahura. He knew that exposure to the Terrigen Mists was always a gamble from what information that he could gather over the years from the various Inhumans. When an Inhuman entered the chamber there was a variety of chances, any number of possible outcomes ranging between nothing happening at all to the final fate of death. Too, those recipients were always willing and of age. There would have been no way of telling what possible outcome might result from a still growing child being forced to endure the transforming mists. And worse, couple that with the queer negative energies from Annihilus’ Nega Rod.

But Maximus had known, apparently. He had not been shocked or surprised in the least when Ahura emerged as Omega’s latest incarnation. How had he known? What had he done?

“Black Bolt,” Richards asked as he considered the shattered remains of the Terrigen Chamber. He had to call the monarch again, so engrossed was he in the battle raging beyond, no doubt weighing his duties, father versus king. “This is not where the Chamber normally sits is it?” Black Bolt shook his head from side to side. “Can you direct me to the original chamber?”

Black Bolt made a slashing motion, a negative response. His face was dark and grim. “Please,” Richards said, “I’m trying to help. Is that where Maximus returned from his exile?” Black Bolt frowned, closing his eyes. He nodded.

“The key to this has to be there. Please, you must take me if we’re to save your son- and your people.”

Blackagar Boltagon stared at his old friend, the first Human that he had learned to trust so many years ago. Reed Richards and his friends had saved the Inhumans almost too many times to count, had taken them into their home and bosom without thought of reciprocation. Yet to take an outsider into the Temple Most Holy, that one place that none but the People had seen before…

Black Bolt nodded, and with only the slightest hesitation, a final glance at his son moved towards the door. Reed Richards glanced back at the throne room and saw that Maximus was still unconscious where he had fallen. His eyes grew wide however when he realized that the Nega Rod was nowhere to be seen, and Annihilus was gone.

Pietro Maximoff shielded his eyes against the brilliant flash as a staggering bolt of lightning arched through the sky to strike the monster squarely in the chest. Thunder slammed down, shaking the ground and making the already damaged arena rattle and crumble still more in its wake. The creature’s chest smoldered, a great charred spot from the electrical impact, but the monstrosity itself seemed unfazed. Strangely it seemed almost… lost.

Quicksilver heard a familiar voice, a moan and saw his wife falter. Immediately he was at her side, cradling her in his arms lest she fall to the dirt and injure herself. The queer atmosphere of Attilan- or rather the lack of it had been too much of a strain on her being and she had passed out, exhausted.

“Is she all right?”

Maximoff glared at Johnny Storm, but saw the actual concern in the young man’s eyes. There was no hidden meaning or desire. He and Crystal had shared much together long before Quicksilver had entered the lives of the Inhumans. He nodded, “over-exerted herself. She needs rest.”

“Hopefully she’ll get the chance,” Storm said as he looked up to the giant again. “Sue’s not much better off. After taking on the renegades- and us for that matter, now this. The strain’s taking its toll.”

“This is pointless,” Pietro snapped, standing over the slumbering form of his wife. “We have never been able to beat Omega, except for divine intervention. Your nephew for one, and Black Bolt for another before that. This version does not seem tied to the Alpha Primitives at all. He seems more like the Hulk, simply confused and wishing to rage.”

“I noticed that,” Storm agreed, though in truth he had not noticed. He could see it now, though. The Invisible Woman was spending all her will to hold the giant in place, but he did not seem to care. He simply stared off and about, ignoring the best blows of Karnak and Gorgon, not to mention Quicksilver and the Human Torch. Maybe if Ben was around to help, but he had disappeared, and Reed had yet to show. Johnny assumed that Black Bolt had gone after Maximus, but still, they were needed. The fight was here.

Both men looked up at the sound of a thunderous concussion in time to see Omega swat Gorgon away. The inhuman flew up and through the air, disappearing somewhere within the city beyond. Karnak was still trying, but he was weak from his captivity, and his power to locate a weak spot in anything had never worked on Omega before.

“Maybe my Nova Blast-“

“You would devastate the city, Torch. Kill most of those that you were trying to save.” Quicksilver shook his head, frowning. “Perhaps if we could get him beyond the Blue Area-“

“I doubt a little cold vacuum’s gonna make him slow down.”

“No you fool,” Pietro snapped back. “If your sister could lift him on one of her fields into the zero gravity beyond-”

Both men turned as the Invisible Woman screamed and started to fall. Quicksilver was at her side and back, easing her to the ground next to his fallen wife before Johnny Storm could even blink. Pietro stood, frowning.

“So much for that idea.”

“You better start clearing out the people, Pietro,” Johnny Storm said as he started to smolder, to draw in heat. “Looks like we go with Plan ‘D’.” Quicksilver’s frown deepened, but in the end he nodded.

The super-fast mutant disappeared in a flurry of dust…

Luna did not understand what had happened.

She wanted her mommy, her daddy, but there was no one about. Not Uncle Gorgon or Triton, not Karnak or Auntie Medusa- no one.

She was alone, wandering the dark and rumbling halls. There was dust and dirt everywhere and it made her cough. Since the explosions and the light she had been alone, and she was starting to get scared. The little room that she had been in had shattered when Uncle Maximus had done something to little Ahura- she didn’t know what. She had seen Uncle Reed, and Black Bolt, and then everything went all bright and away. She remembered falling.

She tried not to cry. Her mommy always told her she had to be brave, but…

She wanted her mommy.

Luna rounded a corner, making her way back upstairs. She knew that she had to get back to the room where the big chair was. That’s where Uncle Reed and Black Bolt were. But Uncle Maximus was there too- and that bug thing, and she knew they were bad. Mommy had said so. But…

Luna gasped as she saw her uncle Maximus sprawled on the floor before the big chair. She bit her lip, wondering what to do. Mommy and Daddy had said that he was bad, but there was no one else and she was so alone and scared and she wanted so much for someone to take her to her Mommy or her Daddy and she didn’t think that Maximus was that bad ‘cuz he made her laugh but he had put her in the little glass room and said bad things and…

Luna stood over her uncle, looking down on him, trying to think what to do. He wasn’t moving. Maybe he was ‘passed gone away’ already- dead. She had seen that before and Mommy had explained it all to her, and then Daddy had explained it too, but different. She didn’t know what to do-

“Uncle?”

Luna yipped as her uncle’s eyes popped open and glared at her. She almost fell back, but his hand reached out and grabbed about her ankle, squeezing. He grinned and she saw he was missing a tooth-

“Luna,” he said with a chuckle, and Luna felt a shiver. His eyes were wide and blue, staring at her as he struggled to sit up, hugging her closer-

“Want Mommy-“ she said, but Maximus shushed her, pressing on her shoulder as he rose to his feet. His helmet and crown lay on the ground as he dug his fingers into his mouth, spitting blood.

“Little, Luna,” he sneered finally, staring at her with a wide grin. “How fortuitous, niece…”

“Wha-“ he shook her, wiping his nose, spitting again.

“Shut up you little, half-breed freak,” he snarled, scooping her up. He smelled, and Luna winced as he squeezed her tightly to his armor-plated chest. “You are my freedom, child. My doltish brother will not dare harm me so long as I have you. Simpering fool that he is, he would sacrifice all to-“

“He might…”

Luna gasped as both she and Maximus turned to see the Thing- her Unca Ben- standing in the far doorway. Maximus staggered back, holding her before him-

“Unca Ben!” Luna shouted, tears in her eyes.

“Shut up!” Maximus shouted, squeezing her, hurting her. “Get back brute! Stay away!”

“Let ‘er go, Max,” Unca Ben said slowly stepping forward. He looked tired she thought, before Maximus was shouting again, scaring her.

“I’ll kill her, Grimm! Little freak means nothing to me. Diluting the race! Let me leave or I’ll kill her now!”

“Let her go…”

She could hear her Uncle Maximus breathing hard. She could smell him, he was sweating as he backed away, finally thumping against the wall behind them. He thrust her out to arms’ length-

“Fine! Take her! Spare me and take her!”

Uncle Ben was there, and he took her, holding her close to his chest, but kind, caring against his rough, rocky skin. He bounced her a bit, smiling in reassurance before he looked to Uncle Maximus again.

“Take me brute! I surrender! Lock me away where I can plan and plot and I’ll be back before-‘

Uncle Ben held her close, pulling her head to his chest. She felt him move, heard her Uncle Maximus gasp-

“Not this time, Max,” Uncle Ben rumbled. “Ya crossed the last line-“

Luna heard a ‘snap’.

Luna looked to the smiling face of her Uncle Ben as he held her out, bouncing her in his strong arms. She looked back, trying to see her other uncle, but Ben turned away. “You okay, kid?” he asked and she nodded, wrapping her arms about his thick neck.

“Cool,” he said, starting to walk away, and she saw her Uncle Maximus then lying on the floor. His head was twisted about, his big blue eyes wide and staring at her, his mouth open wide like he was trying to say something. He looked hurt. He wasn’t moving…

“Annihilus!”

Reed Richards shouted as he saw the self-proclaimed Lord of the Negative Zone falling through the Rift. It was indeed a doorway into the Zone, though just how Maximus had managed to open it, Richards had no idea.

He watched as negative energy flared. Annihilus held the Nega-Rod before him, drawing in the energies of the Zone, trying to replenish his strength no doubt. He was crawling straight into the Rift- the hole that Maximus had created. There was no Zone of Distortion, nothing to convert the positive to negative or to reciprocate. Would Annihilus even survive the transit?

Richards wished that there was time to study the process; Annihilus’ reaction, the initial transfer, the power fluctuations. But-

“Black Bolt!’ Richards shouted, half-turning to the Inhuman King, trying to see all that he could. “You have to close the portal, sever the connection. Omega- Ahura is drawing power straight from the Zone! It’s not the Mists! It’s the Negative Zone!”

Richards saw Black Bolt start, looking on in confusion. He could imagine what the monarch was feeling. What would happen to his son if the Zone Portal was closed? What had Maximus done? There was a degree of uncertainty of course, but it had to be done. Annihilus was crawling through the portal-

“Black Bolt!”

Reed Richards saw Black Bolt’s fists tighten as he stared at the receding form of Annihilus. Energy crackled from the Nega Rod as it drew in energy. Richards hesitated then. Perhaps that would be enough to-

“Stop…”

Reed Richards screamed as his ears exploded with sound. He felt the chamber in which they stood shake and rumble as sheer, solid waves of sonic force flowed out of the Inhuman Monarch. Energy flashed from the antennae at his brow as he braced, directing his assault at the fleeing form of Annihilus. Richards went pliant-

The roof started to cave in…

The Nega Rod exploded, taking the spindly hand of Annihilus in its wake…

Negative energy swirled, spewing from the portal, bathing them all.

He heard Annihilus scream as he vanished in a flash of stark black light…

The floor buckled and heaved…

The Rift seemed to swell at first, flaring white before it started to dwindle, flickering…

Richards saw a one-armed man with golden hair, a woman wrapped in golden cord staring back at him…

A strong wind whipped forth, slamming him back as the Rift sealed, fading away with a gasp of rushing air. The portal closed. Annihilus and the Rod were gone- dead, who could say? Annihilus had a knack for survival, but he was hurt. It would be some time before they saw him again.

Richards started to rise, started to move to Black Bolt and the Temple fell down about them…

He could feel the burn.

The flame was building, the heat. His power was building quickly here, faster than expected in the odd atmosphere of the Moon’s Blue Area. He had to hope that Quicksilver was as fast as he claimed. He had to hope that the Mutant had cleared the people. He hoped to that Sue was awake again, as she could help contain the Nova Burst.

Omega was looking at him, staring at the glow in the sky that the Human Torch had become. He was reaching up, wanting to touch.

Johnny licked his lips. He could not contain it any longer…

He closed his eyes. Someone was screaming his name…

Release…

The nova flame was a last effort. The devastation that accompanied it was absolute. Attilan would be wiped away in the sheer blast of heat akin to the sun. The buildings, the people- all would suffer if they were caught. It was a last recourse against the likes of Galactus, and Doom. Omega…

Johnny Storm heard the scream as he let the power flow forth. Unbridled heat and flame exploded above the arena. Buildings simply vanished in the intense flash, melting and crumbling before his greatest gift. He opened his eyes and saw Omega writhing, shrinking before his ultimate onslaught. It was working…

Susan Richards swayed as she waved her arms, placing a field of invisible force about them all. Still they felt the heat. Johnny was not holding back, and she was weak, yet. It took every erg of her power and will to hold the shield- but she would.

She saw Omega stagger and writhe, caught in the devastating blast of heat. His body wavered, seemed to shrink. And for a second- just a heartbeat she thought perhaps that they had made a mistake.

The surrounding buildings simply vanished in the flash. Minarets crumbled and fell away, walls collapsed and burned. She heard screams of panic and pain…

“Ahura…” Quicksilver gasped, his skin red and burnt.

“Agon…” Crystal whispered.

And Omega was gone…

Blackagar Boltagon stared at the burnt and deformed body of his son.

Nothing. It had all been for naught.

Omega had been defeated, but after the fact. The battle had been done. The final efforts of the Human Torch had not been needed after all. Black Bolt had sealed the Rift, cutting off the source of Omega’s power. It had been done.

The Torch did not know, had not known…

“I’m sorry… I… I’m…”

He had not known. How could he?

Blackagar ignored him. Staring at his son…

The Nova Burst had destroyed much of Attilan. Despite their best efforts, the Human Torch had slain hundreds. Buildings were simply gone, and there were fires everywhere. Raging…

Medusa…

He felt Richards’ hand on his shoulder. Reed Richards understood. He had lost a child once.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” Richards said. Blackagar nodded.

The Mutant was gone, back to Earth. He had taken his daughter, a shuttle-

“I’ve had enough of this! Never again!”

Blackagar did not understand his anger. Luna was alive. The Thing had saved her.

Maximus was dead.

“I’m leaving…” Crystal was sad. He could feel it, truly. “Pietro… I can’t…”

Black Bolt nodded.

The others filed past, supportive, comforting him.

Medusa…

What would he tell his wife?

What was there left to say?

Ahura was dead.

Black Bolt held back his tears…

NEXT: The FF returns to Earth in the aftermath, but do they have a chance to catch their breath? No! Join us next time as the Frightful Four Plus come to call and all hell breaks loose…

: THE THING

: HUMAN TORCH

: NAMOR

An untold Strange Tale of Christmas past featuring the Human Torch and the ever-lovin’ blue-eyed Thing in…

THE GIFT!

By Curtis Fernlund

He came out of the sea at Battery Park, the southern most point of Manhattan Island. He grimaced as he climbed the slick stones that reinforced the ground at the tip of the island, recoiling at the foul touch that was ever present on anything that the surface dwellers created. He could feel the decaying slime and residue of oils and waste clinging to the great stones and scurried up and out of the filth tainted waters of New York Harbor with a sigh of relief.

The air was little better, his mutant body quickly adapting to breathing oxygen rather than filtering O2 molecules from the dark, murky water. A cold wind blew about him, traces of semi-clean snow swirling past, lighting on his hardened skin. The snow cleansed him of the foul, tainted waters of the bay that he had been forced to swim through to reach his goal. There were easier ways to reach Manhattan of course, ways that were closer. But the rivers that encircled the greatest city of humankind were even dirtier than the bay itself where the waters of the mighty Atlantic roiled and churned, drawing the waste of humanity out into the sea with every tide.

Simpler still would be to fly, but he wanted to be inconspicuous, to draw as little attention to his visit as possible. The man had returned to New York City for personal reasons rather than because of affairs of state. Even on this night, cold and snowing and under cover of the darkness, when most would be within their small, cramped dwellings there would still be great numbers crowding the streets like swarms of smelt rushing to spawn. Even in this city where flying men and women were a common, every day spectacle there would still be those gawking at the sky, staring up at the buildings scraping the heavens hoping to catch a glimpse of a god; or a king!

The man strode forward following the maze-like paths of iron rail and concrete deeper into the park. It was dark within, the swaying trees casting shifting shadows in the dim light provided by the few glowing lamps lining the walkways. He had no fear of darkness however as his home was like pitch in the depths of the sea, his eyes evolved by many generations to see in far worse. The chill wind turned the sheen of water still clinging to his skin to ice, the light snow settling on his slick dark hair and shoulders as he walked. He did not feel the cold; his skin was far too thick and his body’s temperature easily able to withstand the frigid waters of the far north where his home once was. He felt exhilarated rather, water in any form invigorating him, keeping his strength at peak and his senses alert.

He had not gone far when he came upon one of the city’s many homeless, a raggedy old man sleeping in the bushes, oblivious to the cold and snow gathering about him. The man smelled of waste and alcohol, his skin sunken and sallow. He sniffed and coughed, barely coming awake from a drunken stupor as a rattling echoed in his chest. The man who came from the sea sighed deeply. It had not been so many months ago that he had been so despaired, bereft of identity and memory, walking the maddened streets of the surface dwellers as one of their ignored and forgotten, easily dismissed.

With no effort the man from below hefted the other and his few meager belongings gathered in ratty bags. He carried the still slumbering man with a gentleness that belied his great strength and approached a small storage shed there in the park. With a casual ease he kicked the weather beaten door from its rusting hinges, shattering in turn the ancient lock that held it secure. The man from the sea gently set the man on the dusty stone floor and removed his ragged coat and hat with some regret. He hoped that the shelter of the hut would stay the cold until the old man could awaken, and that before the city’s police arrived on the scene.

He donned the old man’s coat and slipped the lice-ridden wool cap over his ears. Both smelled of the man, but the sea-dweller could ignore the stench for the short time that he would need the slight disguise. He took the man’s boots as well, an after-thought, noting that he might draw undue attention if seen walking the streets of Manhattan in bare feet in the dead of winter. He adjusted the bag he wore about his shoulder, now hidden beneath the overcoat then fished in the smaller sharkskin pouch that dangled from his golden belt.

He pulled out a coin of gold bearing the face of one of the surface world’s many rulers from the past and tossed it to the floor near the drunkard’s head where he would be sure to see it when he awakened. It was worth far more than the man’s tattered clothing, and the man from the sea knew that the oldster would doubtless use the coin to feed his addiction rather than clothe himself. Still, the debt was paid, and he had to hope, this night above any other-

It was Christmas after all.

Later…

It did not take the man from the sea long to walk the many blocks uptown. He followed Broadway until his destination came into view, the Baxter Building, looming high into the misty glow of the Manhattan skyline then veered towards it ignoring the names of the countless grids of streets he crossed. It was not the tallest building in the city- that distinction would apparently belong to the two towers that were still just skeletal frames in the closed-in district downtown near the park. Still, among the older spires of the likes of the Empire State and Chrysler Buildings, the Baxter Building shone like a beacon. It had become just as famous as well when not so long ago its newest residents brought it into fame and renown.

The Fantastic Four had occupied the upper-most floors of the midtown building for the last few years, the first of a new wave of super beings to emerge since the end of World War Two and the disbanding of the first greatest superteam, the All-Winner’s Squad! Oh, there had been others during the interim, but none that matched the original glory of that first team. None that is until the coming of the Fantastic Four! It was they that he had traveled so far to see.

Finally he stood in the shadow of the building, across the wide street still flowing thick with traffic despite the late hour. The surface dwellers still crowded the sidewalks, hurrying along, laden with bags and colorful packages. They appeared more harried than usual, their vacant eyes tinged with anxiety as they shuffled along on the slushy paths. As he understood it, this day was supposedly one of the human’s most holy days and a cause of joyous celebration. He could not see it in their manner, however and he ignored the angry stares he received as he stepped into the bustling flow, brushing aside those few that dared block his own way. Car horns bellowed and blared as he pressed on out into the street. He did not fear the mammoth contraptions of steel as they could do him little harm even at their greatest speeds and none at all at the weather clogged pace they now traveled. Still, with every bleating horn another head would turn his direction and he did not need that attention so close to his goal. He hurried along; using a speed bred in the deepest depths of the sea and easily dodged his way through the lumbering traffic. If anyone stopped to take closer note he did not know nor care as he pushed his way into the brightly-lit lobby of the Baxter Building.

The main lobby of the Baxter Building was well decorated, if not a little gaudy. The walls were lined with dark paneled wood and bordered with a golden filigree. Potted plants and trees were scattered about to break up the monotony of the designer’s original dream, the foliage often hiding large photographs of the city and the building’s construction in varying phases of completion. A Christmas tree stood in one corner sparkling brightly with a myriad of tiny multi-colored lights and draped in shimmering strips of silver and garlands of gold, adorned with shining glass globes. Wreathes and rope of green hung from the walls and berry laden mistletoe dangled overhead in the glaring fluorescent light. It was a vast wasted space that herded any visitor to a huge desk at the far end of the gilded hall. A lone man- a security guard by his dress- sat at the desk, looking up only when he heard the heels of the sea dweller’s stolen boots clacking on the marble tiles.

The guard forced a smile as the man approached, trying to sound congenial after being woken from his doze-

“Can I help-”

The man from the sea ignored the guard, striding past the desk as he spotted the rows of elevators lining the front wall of the building’s inner core. He heard the squeal of wheels, the creak of old springs as the guard rose to intercept him, but the man walked on, approaching the one set of elevator doors that was the final impediment to his destination. The man from the sea pressed his thumb against the small red disk set in the wall beside the doors expecting them to open at his command and was somewhat surprised when nothing happened. He felt a hand grip onto his shoulder-

“Hold on there, big man!” The guard tried to sound threatening, but the man from the sea could hear the slight tremor in the other’s voice confronted by someone bigger than he had been expecting. Too, he knew that the guard could feel the rippling muscles barely contained beneath the tattered fabric of the ratty, woolen overcoat. Still, he was merely doing his job.

“That’s a private elevator pal. Express to the upper floors! Ain’t nobody uses that without an invite from the Fantastic Four.” The man felt the guard’s grip tighten as he tried to turn the intruder, but it did not hurt, and he did not move. He did glance back in annoyance, staring at the guard through slitted eyes bearing menace, pleased to see the man pale slightly. The guard swallowed-

“S-suppose you come on back to the desk, buddy, an’ we’ll see how I can help you.” The guard tried to get the man to move, and though he was hardly slight in his own right, his strength paled in comparison to that of the intruder. It was like trying to topple a statue, but still he had to try, instantly regretting it. Anger flared in the taller man’s eyes, and in a flash a hand shot out wrapping about the guard’s throat. The security guard choked as his air supply was cut off, then felt his feet leave the tiled floor as the intruder effortlessly lifted his almost three hundred pound bulk as easily as a child might lift a plush toy animal.

“How dare you, mortal?” The man from the sea snarled, his face suddenly twisted with rage. “None may dare speak so to the royal personage! No surface-crawling scum may bar the way of the Avenging Son, the Prince of Atlantis!”

The security guard’s eyes widened as he struggled to draw breath. He batted uselessly at the man’s arm that held him aloft, kicking at his tree trunk legs to no effect. In desperation he grabbed at the man’s woolen cap and pulled it away. He wanted to gasp, finally recognizing his assailant, but he could not breathe as the man’s grip tightened on his throat-

“No one may touch Namor the First, the savage Sub-Mariner!”

The security guard felt something warm and wet trickling down his legs just as his world went black…

Johnny Storm was finding it hard to stay awake.

He was sitting in the monitor room of the Fantastic Four’s headquarters far above the lobby of the Baxter Building and totally ignorant of what was happening down below. He was in a foul mood, alone on Christmas Eve and bored out of his mind. The love of his life, Crystal Amaquelin was half a world away, only recently returned to her family- the Inhumans- hidden away in the far off city of Attilan in the secluded Himalayan Mountains. His sister and brother-in-law, Susan and Reed Richards- were upstate retrieving his new nephew, Franklin, from his sitter Agatha Harkness at her home, Whisper Hill. Even his best friend- Benjamin J. Grimm was out enjoying the holiday with his girl friend, the blind sculptress Alicia Masters. Only Johnny Storm, the dashing and eligible youngest member of the most famous quartet in the world this side of the Beatles was sitting home, alone on Christmas Eve.

Was he unhappy? Johnny Storm was all but literally wallowing in a pool of self pity, twirling lassoes of flame in the air as he used the small remote device that his brother-in-law had invented to shift through the many channels of the monitor array before him. Dozens of screens flickered at his slightest command, the various flat plasma monitors showing images from dozens of television broadcasts from around the world. The satellite link controlled by the great radar dish on the roof of the Baxter Building was able to intercept the broadcasts of hundreds of television stations from anywhere on the planet, but as Johnny flipped through the channels he became more and more convinced that ‘more’ was not necessarily synonymous with ‘better’.

He was half-drowsing, wishing that Crystal had not had to return to her isolated home due to the ill effects of Manhattan’s smog on her health. She was foremost in his thoughts lately- always- though it was his own loneliness that spurred on his desires rather than her actual dilemma. Reed Richards- Mister Fantastic had vowed to find a cure of course, but so far he had failed as he had on anything that really mattered. At least in Johnny’s mind. He frowned, leaning back in his chair and planting his feet on the desk before him as he grumbled, flipping through the channels in hopes of catching something on one of the monitors that might cheer him up- maybe Charlie Brown’s Christmas, or the Santa on the razor commercial. He was almost asleep when one of the Baxter Building’s internal monitors flickered with sudden movement, catching his eye.

Johnny Storm sat up, suddenly awake as he watched someone push past the lobby’s security guard, making a beeline for the FF’s private elevators. The man looked like a bum from the streets dressed in old ragged clothes but he seemed to walk tall and with determination even as the guard hurried up behind him. He almost seemed vaguely familiar the way he stood, and Johnny’s eyes widened as he saw the guard struggling to turn the man around. Johnny storm fiddled with the slim remote in his hand, trying to adjust the volume so that he might hear what was being said, but before he could find the proper control he saw the intruder lift the hefty guard off of his feet with one arm. He knew then and there that the intruder was not your average street bum, and was more than likely there to attack him and his friends.

Johnny jumped to his feet and ran from the room. He thought briefly of alerting the others, but he knew that Reed and Sue were miles away and that the Thing was probably still sitting in a darkened theatre somewhere Off-Broadway. None of them would see the famed ‘4’ symbol if he fired off the alert, and even if he did the battle would probably be over before they could arrive to help. Not that he needed help. He was the Human Torch, idol of millions after all.

Johnny Storm charged down the hallway, his body already smoldering as he activated the infrared beam of light hidden within his belt buckle. He angled the beam towards the sensor set in the wall, slowing his pace as the doors slid open at his unspoken command. He hesitated, glancing down the long dark elevator shaft for an instant before bravely stepping into the open air before him. He started to fall but seemed unafraid as he shouted-

“Flame on!”

His body heat rose dramatically and within the space of a heart beat the very air about him burst with light and heat. Flame erupted about him as he angled his fall into a dive, the fiery field surrounding him slowing his freefall into a controlled descent. Johnny Storm felt gravity lose its tight hold and he was soon flying, diving straight down at a breakneck speed towards the lobby.

As the Human Torch, one-fourth of the Fantastic Four, Johnny Storm had the power to manipulate the field of flame that surrounded his body in almost any way he desired. He radiated heat, concentrated and blistering to degrees that could melt steel, but as he flew down the elevator shaft he controlled the heat and flame, trying not to damage the inner workings of the building. Reed Richards had rebuilt the inner core of the Baxter Building when he had replaced two of the elevators with private cars that would run express to the public offices of Fantastic Four Incorporated. The walls of the inner core were fire retardant, though not truly resistant. If Johnny increased the heat of his flame he knew that he could easily melt through the walls of the shaft, but he kept his flame to a minimum degree; just enough to alert the sensors on the lobby doors that he was coming. It was a failsafe that Reed had built in, just in case of emergency.

He saw the first slit of light as the doors began to open still a few floors below. The Human Torch slowed his plunge just enough, allowing the doors to slide fully aside before he screamed into the lobby, twisting in his path slightly to avoid plowing into the security guard and the man that held him aloft. The Torch arched up and back, using the vastness of the lobby to spin about and bear down on the intruder, a glowing ball of fire already forming in his hand. He started to speak a warning to the man, wanting to order him to put the guard down and surrender but his voice caught in his throat as he saw for the first time a clear view of who stood before him-

“Holy crow!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the crackling of his own flame. “It’s the Sub-Mariner!”

Namor the First, Avenging Son of Atlantis knew that with his stolen cap off his disguise had been stripped away. He stared at the Torch hovering up and away above the lobby floor, knowing what was going to come but his own anger and impatience was rising and he knew of know way to avoid the confrontation to come. Nor did he want to. He was tired of skulking about through the filthy streets of Manhattan, trying to ignore the rudeness and vulgarity of the surface dwellers. The Sub-Mariner was angry and annoyed, and the last thing he wanted was to deal with the juvenile Human Torch.

“Drop that man, Namor!” the Torch shouted, a ball of fire blazing in his hand. “He’s just doing his job! It’s me you came to fight!”

“I have come to fight no one, Torch!” Namor snarled back, his impatience rising. “I am here for your sister! Take me to her now!”

“Yeah, right! Like that’s gonna happen!” The Human Torch hurled the ball of fire at the Sub-Mariner’s feet and Namor instantly felt the heat of the blast. The tiled floor erupted in flame, the pseudo-marbled linoleum melting and searing into the soles of his stolen boots, burning into his bare feet. Namor winced, and out of sheer instinct hurled the man he was holding away as he dove out of the fiery blaze surrounding him. His coat was afire, his rubber boots molten and clinging to his legs in hot clumps. Desperately he stripped away his disguise, casting the burning clothes aside as he soared into the air, the tiny wings at his ankles keeping him aloft. He checked the bag hanging about his shoulder and found it undamaged as it was specially treated and proof against the Torch’s worst assaults.

Anger welling inside of him, Namor still hesitated as the Human Torch caught the unconscious security guard and set him out of harm’s way. Despite the human’s effrontery of touching the royal personage, still Namor’s fight was not with him. If there was to be a fight, let it be with the Human Torch!

Johnny Storm lessened the flame about his arms and chest as he caught the limp body of the security guard. He settled the man to the floor activating the emergency beacon in his belt that would summon the police and EMS to the scene, not just to help the injured guard but to keep innocent bystanders away. The Sub-Mariner was there for a fight, and he had been able to battle the entire Fantastic Four to a stand still in the past. With only the Human Torch on hand now, Johnny knew that he would have to go all out to stop the crazed Atlantean.

Johnny took to the air again, flying full tilt at the Sub-Mariner as he stripped away his burning clothes. He was dressed as always in his scaled green trunks underneath, but Johnny saw that he had a shoulder bag looped over his head and he seemed to be trying to keep it out of the way. Johnny surmised that Namor had brought something special with him, some strange undersea ‘ace’ to negate the powers of each of the Fantastic Four. Johnny Storm knew that he could not give the mutant king the chance to use whatever he had brought and blazed forward in a ball of fiery glory.

The Torch felt the energy of his powers building within him and mentally redirected that energy into his arms. He blasted fiery bolts at the flying Atlantean, trying to drive him back to the floor, but the Sub-Mariner easily avoided the blasts swooping and dodging as though he was swimming through the air.

“Give it up, Namor! I’ll connect soon enough and that’ll be it for you. Just one of my blasts will turn you into dehydrated tuna, and you know it!” Johnny fired again, surprised that Namor could smile at his threats.

“You are a fool, Torch. A greater fool even than your predecessor, Jim Hammond- the original Human Torch! You think as he did, that your powers of fire make you invincible, but you- like he- are wrong!” Namor slammed his fist through the thin tiles set in the ceiling and grasped the cool metal hidden within. There was the sound of rending metal as the Sub-Mariner wrenched the metal piping of the internal anti-fire sprinkler system, pulling it down from its moorings. He ripped the pipes apart, pulling the metal about and pinching the open end to spew a strong stream of water at his arrogant opponent.

“Water beats fire, Torch,” he sneered, drenching the boy in a stream of water, “every time!”

Johnny Storm gasped as the spray of water washed over him. Steam rose on contact, enveloping him in a misty cloud as the Sub-Mariner drenched him. Johnny tried to increase the temperature of the field surrounding his body, but he had been caught ill prepared and the water had already done its damage. He faltered in flight, feeling his fire start to wane and diminish. He started to fall and glanced up in a panic to find Namor there before him-

Johnny Storm did not even feel the blow that struck him dumb. He flew back, the last of his flame flickering away as he smashed through the glass doors of the lobby and out into the street. He soared over the lanes of traffic, his body growing colder with every inch. His head was spinning, stars dancing in his sight, exploding in a field of gray that was washing over his vision. He was traveling too fast and knew that he would hit the stone wall across the street any second. He hoped that he would be killed on impact, quickly. He dreaded the thought of being crippled, his spine shattered and living the rest of his days in a hospital bed. He closed his eyes, expecting the worst-

He felt strong, muscular arms wrap about him, whipping him about and pulling him from certain death. His mind whirled as the arms cradled him, gently lowering him to the ground. A gruff, gravelly voice cut through the haze of his delirium-

“Take it easy, kid. The cavalry’s here.”

Johnny Storm looked up through bleary eyes at his savior, the rugged, rocky orange face of his best friend looking down on him with concern. His face was hidden in the shadows of his wide brimmed hat, but Johnny knew the visage as well as his own, the smile on the rocky features cutting through his pain and returning his confidence. Ben Grimm, the Thing eased him back onto the damp street wadding his coat into a ball as a pillow and putting it under his head. He was dressed in an over-sized suit that barely held together over his massive frame. He stood, removing his hat and loosening his tie as Johnny reached up and tugged on his pant’s leg-

“Ben!” he gasped, trying to get his friend’s attention. “It’s Namor! He’s come for Sue!” Johnny saw his friend nod as he slipped out of his suit jacket and dress shirt-

“I know, kid. I see ‘im. You just rest easy. I’ll take care ‘a this.”

The Thing flexed his muscles, slamming his fist into his palm as he eyed the flying man just sailing through the shattered doors of the Baxter Building across the street. He glanced over his shoulder at the small frail woman that stood silently in his shadow, holding his coats and shirt and hat. Alicia Masters was the woman he loved, and despite her petite size, despite her blindness, she stood fast at his side, unafraid. Her blind, staring eyes seemed to pierce his soul as she tilted her head trying to use her other, stronger senses to understand what was happening.

“Ben?” she asked, and the Thing was proud not to hear the slightest quiver in her soft voice.

“You stay back, ‘Licia. Stay with Johnny. This won’t take too long!”

Namor had seen the whole encounter. He had struck the Torch harder than he had intended, but he had been caught up in his rage, in the heat of battle. There was something about the Human Torch- whether Johnny Storm or Jim Hammond- that had always fueled his hatred. Whenever they fought, he found it hard to hold back.

Namor had flown through the smoldering hole that the Torch had made just in time to see the bulky form catch him, cushioning his impact. Namor immediately recognized the man as Benjamin Grimm, the Thing- another member of the Fantastic Four. The Sub-Mariner had hoped to come and go without confrontation, but he had let his ire, his own arrogance rule his decisions. He had beaten the Torch easily, but now the strongest member of the Fantastic Four was charging across the street to where he stood ready to carry on in the youth’s name. Namor stood his ground, ready to fight as the bestial Thing lumbered forward, his massive, rocky frame pounding the earth with every step.

“I dunno why ya picked t’night ta attack, Subby, an’ I don’t really care too much. Ya hurt the kid, an’ when ya done that, well, that just ticks me off!”

Grimm charged forward not an ounce of grace in his attack. Namor had not wanted a fight, but he was willing to do what he had to do to see his mission complete. Still, it was a simple matter to soar up and above the brute, carried aloft by the tiny wings protruding from his ankles. He hovered above the raging brawler as he spit and cursed, trying to reach his prey.

“Come down here an’ fight ya blamed flyin’ fish!” Grimm shouted, shaking a fist futilely at the hovering Prince of Atlantis. Namor smirked-

“I am not here to fight you, brute. I am here to see the Invisible Girl and will not be stayed by the likes of you or the Human Torch. Stand down and I will not hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” the Thing blinked, his rock-strewn face showing a mask of disbelief. “Ya crummy mackerel! Get down here an’ we’ll see who gets hurt!” Grimm reached out, his hand digging into a mailbox and with ease ripped the container from the ground. He hurled the mangled metal like a baseball, and before Namor could fully get out of its path felt the box slam into his legs. He spun about, trying to regain control of his flight, too late realizing that doing so brought him into the path of the Thing’s true attack. He saw the huge, rocky form draw back his massive fist-

“It’s clobberin’ time!”

Namor flew back, his jaw aching, throbbing from where the Thing’s mighty blow had connected. He smashed through the wall of the Baxter Building, plowing another hole through the glass of the main entryway. He sailed over the marble tiles, passing through the spray of water still falling from the pipes he had ripped free just moments before. He tried to pull free of the momentum of the blow, but he was caught, finally slamming into the reinforced walls that lined the elevators of the building’s inner core. He smashed half through the wall, tearing through circuitry and shoring alike. Richard’s construction had been sound however, and the thickness of the wall slowed his flight, and he hung from the wall awkwardly, foolishly, a victim of the Thing’s blow. Namor fumed as sparks danced about him, sizzling on his flesh!

Namor heard the lumbering, thunderous footfalls of the Thing as he charged forward again, racing into the heart of the building to finish his foe. The savage Sub-Mariner was hardly done however as he pried himself from the wall and staggered to his feet. He spun about, ready to meet his foe’s attack, but the Thing was ready as well.

Grimm was not in the same class as the Hulk or the mighty Thor. The Thing was just not as strong as those others, but what he lacked in strength he more than made up for in skill. The Thing knew the martial arts; Judo and boxing at least, as well as wrestling. Where Namor was a warrior, the Thing was a fighter. Namor struck out, a mighty blow that the Thing deflected with a casual block. Grimm batted away the Sub-Mariner’s best blows with an ease that simply infuriated the Atlantean, making him angrier with every attempt to strike his opponent. Grimm chuckled-

“That the best ya got, Subby? Too bad, cuz here comes my Sunday Special!”

He saw the grotesque Thing rear back, shifting his weight as he curled a massive hand into a fist. Namor knew that his only chance was to strike first and drew back as well, spinning in midair to gain leverage, gearing up for a mighty blow to fell one of his mightiest foes. He lashed out even as did the Thing, each of their fists aimed to strike the other low-

Namor cried out in sudden agony as his mightiest blow fell short. His knuckles slammed into some unseen barrier, pain shooting through his arm in a fire worse than any that the Human Torch might muster. He winced, fluttering back as he grabbed his injured fist and held it close. His only conciliation was that the Thing appeared just as injured and surprised as did he-

“Yow! What the flamin’-”

He saw Grimm stagger back, holding his own fist gingerly. They both glanced about in confusion when suddenly a pair of shadows strode out of the sidelines and into view. The man was tall and slender, almost lanky, and dressed in a simple suit of blue that did little to improve his image. His hair was dark but tinted with gray at the temples his long face twisted in concern. The woman at his side was far too beautiful to be with him, at least in Namor’s opinion. Her golden hair seemed to sparkle in the glow of the misty streetlights. Her form was grace personified, even covered, and wrapped in scarves and a thick coat against the bitter wind. She carried a small babe in her arms protectively, a look of concentration knitting her brow as she scanned the scene. They were Reed Richards and his wife, Susan. The woman he had come to see. The woman he once loved.

“What the devil’s going on here?” Reed Richards said as he strode forward between the two combatants. To his credit he seemed unafraid standing between two of the strongest men on the planet, and two of the most volatile. Grimm started to speak, realizing that the Invisible Girl must have placed one of her force fields between him and the Sub-Mariner before they could do more damage. Grimm tried to speak, but lost his tongue.

“Ben?” Susan asked, cradling her swaddled son closer to her breast. “What is this? What’s happening?”

“He hurt Johnny!” the Thing said, trying to avert the blame, pointing at the Sub-Mariner.

“That’s right, Sis!” the Torch agreed as he approached, walking protectively before Alicia Masters. “He attacked the security guard in the lobby of the Baxter Building, trying to get to us. He attacked me, but he said he was after you!”

Susan Richards looked shocked and shaken as she turned on Namor. She stared at him, as though trying to look into his soul to read his true intentions. Namor felt his anger draining, his heart melting as he returned the gaze of the beauteous Invisible Girl. She was one of the true loves of his life, and he had been smitten with her beauty since he had first laid eyes on her months before. He could not lie to her-

“It is true, Susan. I had hoped to come and see you without incident, but I fear my own regal bearing, my arrogance ruled my intentions. I lashed out at your security guard, and in turn your brother. Forgive me.”

Namor saw Susan Richards swallow, a look of confusion washing over her face. “But Namor,” she asked, stepping forward, “why?”

The Sub-Mariner reached into the bag hanging from his shoulder and instantly felt his foes respond. Richards stepped in front of his wife and child to protect them even as the Thing stepped in front of him and the Torch flared afire. Namor smiled, somewhat moved at their familial devotion to one another. He pulled free the small item that he had carried and protected so far, from the undersea spires of fabled Atlantis itself.

“I merely wished to give you this, on this most holy of your holidays, in honor of the recent birth of your son.” Namor held out the item, a small arrangement of seashells surrounding a shining pearl that seemed to glow from within. Susan Richards shifted the weight of her son and accepted the delicate sculpture tentatively.

“A Christmas present?” she asked, almost dumbfounded. Namor smiled-

“A gift.” He touched the pearl in the sculpture delicately, brushing the soft surface. There was a sparkling, tinkling flicker of light and suddenly an image appeared. Sue gasped and felt a lump swell in her throat as she stared at the image hovering before her, before them all. It was a three-dimensional picture of those that she loved the most; her husband and son, her brother and her best friend all gathered about her. Tears welled in her eyes-

“Namor,” she gasped, trying to hold back the tears, “it’s- it’s…”

“It’s incredible!” Reed Richards leaned into the sculpture peering at the intricate detail of the piece and the image that it presented. “It seems to be a collection of organic material lit by a bioluminescent organism arranged in such a way as to transmit a holographic rendition of our family preserved for posterity.” He stood straight and gazed at the Sub-Mariner. “It’s a truly magnificent piece, Namor. I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s a first.” Grimm chuckled, wrapping his arm about Alicia Masters and holding her close.

“I do.” Susan Richards stepped forward and leaned into the Sub-Mariner. Gently she eased against him, raising up on her toes and kissed him softly on his cheek. Namor felt his face grow warm at her touch and knew that he was blushing.

“Thank you, Namor. It’s beautiful. I’ll always treasure it.”

Namor nodded, trying to regain his composure. It would not do for the Prince of Atlantis to blush like a tadpole before his greatest foes. He pulled the small pouch from his belt, feeling the weight as he bounced it in the palm of his hand. He glanced at the Thing who simply nodded and shrugged. He met the Torch’s gaze, but Johnny Storm could not hold eye contact for long. He looked away. Namor tossed the pouch of gold coins at the quartet’s feet-

“I hope this will cover the damages I helped to cause. Give whatever is left to the human guard. He was only doing his duty, after all.” Namor rose into the sky before any of the Fantastic Four might protest. They had their pride as well and he knew they would not take the money if he gave them the opportunity to decline. He flew up a ways, the wings on his ankles beating wildly to raise his mass, but he hesitated soon, hovering over them-

“I shall not apologize, as this night’s events were not entirely my fault. I shall wish you well, Fantastic Four, and on this one night we shall part in peace. But know this, that when next we meet all of this shall be forgotten, and all shall be as it was. Thus have I spoken-

“Imperious Rex!”

And he was gone.

Johnny Storm watched as the savage Sub-Mariner flew up and away into the night. The snow was still falling, heavier than before. In the distance he could hear the sounds of police and fire engines racing to the scene. He stared at the damage that had been caused to the front of the Baxter Building and sighed. Water was spraying from the ceiling and small fires burned, dwindling in the cold and damp. He heard the moan of the security guard coming awake and glanced up to meet the cold hard gaze of his sister-

“Sue! I-”

Susan Richards spun on her heel and stormed into the demolished lobby of the building. Johnny watched as the spray of water seemed to stop in midair and suddenly bounce away as she passed with the baby, heading into their private elevator where she turned, scowling, waiting for her husband. Johnny felt a hand on his shoulder-

“She’ll get over it, son.” Reed smiled then stretched his legs out of proportion to join his wife in the elevator car in one long, quick step. Johnny watched the doors slide shut, then heard Grimm’s chuckle.

“Live an’ learn, kid.” Grimm lit a cigar to life, puffing briskly as the first police squad car rounded the corner and skidded to a stop on the icy street not far away. The Thing put his arm back about Alicia Masters and nodded at the approaching police officers as they scrambled out of their cars. “I know you wuz tryin’ ta help the guard, match stick. An’ tomorrow, Suzy will too. Fer now though-” Grimm shrugged and started towards the building, Alicia on his arm glancing back-

“You’ll explain all’a this ta the cops, right kid?” he asked and Johnny nodded-

“Sure.” Johnny sighed as the police ran forward en masse. A warm gust of wind blew past and the snow suddenly turned to a cold, driving rain.

“Thanks kid, an’ Merry Christmas!”

“Yeah,” he sighed again then turned to face the police.

“Merry Christmas, Ben. And to all a good night.”

MAXIMUM ANNIHILATION

Part III: Battle Royale

By Curtis Fernlund

An untold Strange Tale of Christmas past featuring the Human Torch and the ever-lovin’ blue-eyed Thing in…

THE GIFT!

By Curtis Fernlund

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