Sarka
Tilnast Star System
Milky Way Galaxy

King Rap’rt screamed, but these fell upon deaf ears.

Major Victory led the way as he burst onto the steps just below the entrances of the Sarkan Citadel, the so-called hub of control and power over the Sarkan race. His shield was in his hands, having previously rested on his back, in a matter of seconds as he held against the thunderous attack of the Uncreated that launched at him. Teeth gritting as he pushed forward, hoping that he could destroy the beast before anyone else had to die. His eyes fell upon the face of the woman, the Queen of the Sarkan Empire. It was lifeless and filled with a sense of sincerity, something that puzzled him.

Gnashing jaws recalled his attention and he growled against the strain. Bullets slithered past him and caused him to fall back. Rocket Raccoon took his place at the head of the battle. Rocket had allowed himself to shift into the background but now was the time to prove why he was a hero.

Halfworld had allowed him to live a sheltered life as a peacekeeper and an authoritarian but he recognised that those days were gone and had made way for the world he now lived in. The universe had never been more dangerous and amidst the turmoil, Rocket found strength. Bleeding the bullets dry as the beast charged on relentlessly, he unsheathed the sword that was holstered on his back. It shimmered and cackled with energy before it collided with the alien barbarian’s neck. Blood splattered over him and the tireless anthropomorphic raccoon was met with another sight.

Uncreated charged towards the Citadel in their droves, hot on the heels of the Sarkan army as they retreated to protect the capital. Panting and strained at the sight he gripped his furry fingers around the shaft of the sword.

He had known battle but he had never been at the forefront, he had expected fear to paralyse him but instead he found rushes of adrenaline pulse through his body. It alerted him to what lay ahead but gave him the conviction to push on, much to the surprise of his companions who had been with his for so little a time. Rocket clutched the sword; his breathing was heavy and uncontrolled as his feet shifted for sturdiness.

Whiskers twitched and his beady eyes froze on the target, monstrous as it was. Three or more rows of teeth where exposed to him and he remembered when they had first faced them. Fear had almost crippled him then but not now, now he was prepared to die if necessary. He longed to be a part of something since the dissolution of his ties to Halfworld. He pattered forward only to find himself lightly restrained from moving.

Delicately a green hand rested on his shoulder and his eyes lifted skyward.

Mantis watched the oncoming sight from his side, and the strength and tranquillity portrayed on the woman’s face gave him comfort. Her eyes were blank but they were passionate and her grip of his arm tightened as she moved towards the chaos, arms outstretched. Shrubbery that grew within the confines of cracks on the ground and buildings exploded to life, plants heeded her call and they followed her into the day of war.

Rocket swung from her grasp, tumbling forward just beyond the explosion of plant life. Dirt tarnished his appearance, clinging to the blood that was not only his own, but he yelled a battle cry as he launched into the midst of the retreating soldiers.

“Stand and fight!” he growled venomously at the cowards.

Thrashing his flaming sword into the neck of one of the beasts, he found himself staring into the face of death.

Major Victory watched his team, and he was proud to fight alongside them. Yet he was concerned that this would be the event that either formed them solely as a team or destroyed them.

Drax the Destroyer watched from behind them. Emperor Hn’rik stood stoically before him and it caused him anger, this war was because of his selfish actions and the mistakes he had made. Men died for a cause that even their Emperor regarded as foolish. Protecting Sarka was solving nothing, in the time he had spent observing these creatures and their culture. Particularly their government, he had learned that there was no saving grace.

Sarka must fall.

WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE

Part V: Cassandra Fulfilled

By Gavin McMahon

He moved with menace, every step he took down the stairway and onto the battlefield that had become of the courtyard of the Citadel, the seat of power within the entire Empire. It was a smart and strategic move, even Drax the Destroyer could appreciate the skill and precision that had been taken to get the Uncreated over the border of Sarka. The green devil marched into the midst of the battle, his hands and eyes flared with sparks that cackled with raw energy.

In a swift movement, blood spewed from the neck of the nearest beast and a smug smile stretched across the leathery face of the Destroyer. He was power personified and he knew nothing about how to control it, but it was the saving grace in a war.

Each moment of watching the Sarkan’s fight their foolish battle made it only to clear to him that they where failing as a race, Fear was all that he could see on many of the so-called ‘warriors’ face. It was the ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’, as they had been earlier dubbed by Emperor Hn’rik, which kept the battle alive. They fought through the mounds of flesh and blood that grew around their feet with each passing second. They fought bravely but the war was already lost.

Sarka had chosen its fate and now, Drax had to execute the final blow. Almost as if it where a beacon in the night the Universal Church of Truth illuminated before him and lured him towards it.

Mantis’ eyes iris-less eyes crossed the battlefield, her brows arched at the sight of Drax the Destroyer retreating into the shade and undergrowth of the azure and indigo hues that made up the forestry surrounding the Citadel. She made a mental note before turning back to the crisis at hand; yet again she found herself the focal point of the Uncreated’s attention. It was foolish for her to face a foe with such a hatred of religious beings; she wasn’t just any other crime fighter. Years ago she had become the Celestial Madonna, she may have failed to protect her charge but she remained intoned with the variety of powers that role had offered her.

Kicking her leg high above her head as she tumbled backwards, the former Avenger delivered an uppercut to the beasts jaw. Landing with a thud, she rushed to roll to her feet and allowed amber and crimson flames to burst to life around her.

Dark hair clouded her view as she scuttled to her feet, claws crashed into the ground around where she stood, each narrowly missing the Cosmic Goddess. In her efforts to avoid being struck, she was crippled by the searing burn mark that scorched across her face. Eyes flared with energy as she panted through the pain whilst attempting to build a wall of plant-life around her.

In her minds eye Mantis had witnessed the bullet that torn through her cheek, causing minimum damage, but she felt it.

Breaking temporarily behind her shield, the young woman closed her streaming eyes. Taking heavy inhales of dust-ridden air and in a simple flare of energy around the gash, she willed it to heal. Her cheek was unmarked as the Uncreated tore through her barrier.

“Stop it!”

Spewing the flames from her hands, she watched the beast ignite and dodged its furious plough onwards. Cart wheeling backwards, she landed in the area of her teammate, Major Victory. Grasping the hand he laid on offer, she was pulled to his side.

“One does not think this is going well,” she panted in response to his gesture.

Major Victory nodded; thankful his concern was shielded behind a mask. “I admit this could be going better.”

“Did you see…?”

“It was hard to miss,” Major Victory grunted in response, reacting to the energy used in throwing his shield outwards as a weapon.

In a single glance the pair decided on a course of action and rushed forward, using their athletic skills and weapons in hand to push or kill anything that stood in their way.

Major Victory pounced over one of the charging Uncreated, landing on all fours as he slipped the shield back onto his back. Mantis slid underneath the thunderous motion of the crashing feet and halted by his side before springing upright and into the flurry of movement before him. Major Victory rushed to keep up with her swift pace, grabbing at the neck of Rocket as they passed, dragging the anthropomorphic raccoon behind them as he continued to toss his sword around.

Mantis grabbed at the shoulder of the alien ruler, Emperor Hn’rik, and hissed. {“You’re coming with us.”}

Cumae, Italy
Several Years Ago

Apollo’s brilliant sun sparked the trickling sensation of heat across her porcelain skin and caused a blush to shimmer onto the beauty’s hollowed cheeks. Emerald eyes watched the enduring landscape around her; there was a pleasant melancholy that hovered across her. Persephone was an ancient woman, unknown from fact or fiction in the world she now inhabited.

Persephone was the Queen of Hades and the Goddess of Springtime; she had made her legacy as one of the most poetic tragedies’s offered by ancient Greece.

Slipping her bare feet from where she rested on the gathered rocks, long golden curls cascading across her exposed shoulders. Moving into an upright position she looked into the depths of the hell that called her name, like a whisper beckoning home a frightened child. Persephone was doomed to live a life of pain and suffering as her heart gently broke and she came apart at the seams. Her pout trembled and her eyes glistened gently.

Hades was her home, her ruler, her master and he was her lover. It was a forced partnership. In the ancient past there had been a tease amongst the pantheon of the God’s. Persephone was noted as one of the most divine beauties the world had ever offered, as the daughter of the mighty Demeter, she was the daughter of her nature herself. Perfect as perfection could be conceived in the eyes of the flawed, she stood above all of the others.

Aphrodite and Helen of Troy had mocked her in jealousy whilst Apollo and the many other men courted her yet none could have her. Persephone was protected from men by her mother, she was a virgin Goddess.

In a moment of foolishness and a rush into the oblivion, Persephone had gotten to close to the handsome stranger with the devilish smile. He had kidnapped her and led her wrathfully into the eternal darkness of the Underworld. Her screams where heard from her prison and the young Grecian was rescued from the torment that the God of the Underworld had offered her.

Zeus’ arbitrary judgement was fair, and the Goddess was destined to splitting her life between the worlds of Heaven and Hell.

Anger, on behalf of her mother, saw her friends who she had once frolicked with, the nymphs, banished into the air as the monstrous harpies while she herself was led back to Hades as the bride of its master.

Even now, she wore the ensemble she had worn on that fateful day. Emerald silk stretched across her body, both whole and ragged, and caught the sunlight with every movement she made. It took strength to hold back her tears, for so long the violated Goddess had been manipulated and painted as the ultimate damsel, whilst she cried into her pillows late into the night. Only now, upon returning to Hades, did she find the conviction to become something more. Gulping at the sight of the cavern, the young woman overlooked the wall on the side of the cliff and viewed the mass of blue ahead of her.

“Across the sea lays another world,” she murmured gently, her words laced with propriety and a slight accent that was unrecognisable in the modern world.

Psst…

Persephone turned her gaze across her shoulders, looking idly around her. Nothing seemed to be in sight. Slowly, with her mouth slightly ajar, she spun around and looked around the scenic spot. Like her, it was a forgotten beauty. Hidden behind the mystery it offered. Moving forward as graceful as a dancer, she felt the long curls shimmer from her shoulders and down her back. It tingled like the sunlight had once done but it had begun to dim now. Apollo could sense her departure.

Persephone…

Snapping to attention she glanced around. “Who goes there?”

Slowly before her, the streams of water on the rock face whirled into the figure of a woman. Water lilies clung to the strands of long, wavy black hair that overthrow the boundaries of her shoulders and rested across her exposed breasts. It was a familiar sight, She had been a friend of the Goddess before her damnation had begun but like most of the nymphs, she had long hidden, fearful fro the wrath of Demeter that had befallen her earth-based sisters.

She was a nymph of sorts, she was a naiad. Naiad’s where the nymphs of the sea and her abilities and skills where likeminded in this role. Drips of water continued to leak from the rags that clung around the ancient creature’s waist.

“Persephone,” cooed the naiad. “I apologise for the intrusion on the last of your days.”

Cocking her brows, she approached the woman. “You where always welcome, Kleodora.”

Simultaneously, further streams of water moulded themselves into the shapes of the naiad sisters. Prophetesses granted with the ability to predict even the futures of the oldest and most ancient of creatures. Both where attired like their sister but differentiated by the shades of hair they wore.

“We should not be here,” hissed the red-haired naiad with the quickest temper the Goddess had ever known, Daphnis.

“This is not our place to intervene, sister,” whimpered the cowardly, Melaina.

Kleodora ignored her sisters, working her way from the darkness of the mountainside into the pasture where the Goddess now watched them. Her face bore great concern; it was an expression she had never before seen on her confidantes. Nymphs as a species where frivolous and jovial, they existed just on the outside of the concerns of the God’s and where always cautious when they where to get involved, they normally left the skills of foresight to the Furies.

“What troubles you, nymph?”

“In the ideals of what was once a companionship, I cannot withhold the future,” muttered the raven-haired beauty, despite the hissing and cries that echoed from behind her.

“I am ready to hear the news you have to offer,” Persephone responded, her words almost caught in her throat.

“You shall die by the sword, Persephone,” continued the naiad. “When the punishment of Hades has seen its completion, you will die by the sword of the only creature that can kill a Goddess.”

Melaina chimed in, cryptically. “Only that which giveth life, can take the life of an immortal.”

Daphnis growled angrily at her sisters. “You will have angered the cosmos, and the Dreaming.” Stepping back, the brunette burst into a spring of water and disappeared into the earth from which she had come.

Melaina took her sisters side as Kleodora continued. “I am sorry to bear such news.”

“You mean, I shall die?”

Persephone struggled with disbelief for a moment, until she had regained control of her senses. It had taken her by surprise, as an immortal she had been conditioned with the ability to see the future happen and become the past. Heroes had fought and died as eras had come to an end but now, as the age of atheism rose, she was forced to understand the realisation that she could die. Springtime was her domain and she had ruled as a queen.

In death she would only be remembered as the damsel who had failed to protect herself from the tragedies of mankind.

“Go,” she whispered as the pair remained motionless. “I said leave me!”

Melaina departed hurriedly, she had always been the coward, but Kleodora remained for another few moments. Aquatic eyes of sapphire watched the Goddess as her world collapsed in on itself, there had been a time when she would have been of comfort but Kleodora knew that those days had come to an end.

Slowly, the naiad stepped back and joined her sisters.

Persephone stood alone in the meadow, a cold air had fallen over the joy of her final moments and she noticed the change in the weather. The God’s from above her had overheard the naiad’s warning and she was not sure which she should focus on. They had warned her of her impending death in a battle with a beast who had not been sighted in millennia but they had also warned of a time when she would be free from the tyrannical control and manipulations of Hades.

Happiness and sadness collided in the aftermath of the announcement.

She turned, making her way back towards the entrance of Hades, and each step made her aware of the end of spring. Walking through the meadow, the luscious shades of green and the beauty of the flowers that had sprung on her arrival faded. Nature melted into the dreariness of the landscape, decaying with the very change in her temperament. Suddenly, as she lowered herself into the darkness, she did not like what she had left behind.

Returning to the depths, she could only picture the monster that would someday claim her life. Phoenix, she pictured thoughtfully.

The Morbegs
Sarka, Tilnast Star System
Milky Way Galaxy

Under menacing glare of Fortunæ, the crone who assumed leadership of the Sarkan faction, the Goddess Persephone was pulled from her daydream into the present with a forceful thud. Strands of pale white hair slivered from the holding of Fortunæ’s chignon but the alien woman did not seem to notice, her eyes were fixated on the lips that had uttered the words of allegiance to the Universal Church of Truth. It had been a spur of the moment revelation, one mixed with feelings of concern and confusion.

Persephone backed away, her chest heaving under the attention of all the Sarkans in the Morbegs.

It was now that she found herself interested in what was truly the home of these people. The Morbegs appeared to be an underground civilisation that lay in ruins, there was a sense that there was definitely a history to be discovered should anyone wish to discover it. Crumbling houses and decaying plant-life scattered the expansive area but beyond that she could see nothing, there was a mass of darkness that overwhelmed her on the very outskirts of the town. It was a warning that they failed to adhere too.

“Rakk ci jyrtas?”growled the crone in a low monotone, slipping into the natural language of her people before composing herself. “What did you say?”

Beta Ray Bill, the Korbinite warrior, took the place of the retreating Goddess as he flexed his equestrian features in anticipation. There was a clear sense of confusion in the hero’s eyes, he had little knowledge of the threat he faced but still he faced it. He had been without purpose after the destruction of Korbin but now as his life was on track once again, Beta Ray Bill was taking control. He was a natural born leader and that was clear through his actions.

Despite being a leader, the alien warrior rarely found himself to be a team player. He had rejected Avengers membership when offered by Thor, one of his worst enemies become closest allies. He had only ever fought alongside Thor and now he was in an unfamiliar situation,

“She said that we where the protectors of the Universal Church of Truth,” clarified the warrior. “We received the distress call from a member of the Sarkan militia, which in the system of hierarchy is believed to be an associate of the Church. This was a mission statement further fuelled by the discovery that the Uncreated where an atheist race determined to end religion. For all intents and purposes, we were called here to aide and protect the Church.”

One of the sturdier men yelled forward. “That cannot be allowed!”

“Bill, I think that your words are falling on deaf ears,” whispered the Goddess, intertwining her pale, delicate arms around the evident musculature of his.

Bill shrugged her warning off. “Fortunæ, we are not here as a threat to your or your people. Rebellious and subversive factions may be a problem within the rebuilding of Sarka but it is not the problem that we immediately face. As of now, we have little to no information on who we are protecting and we have friends, they have become lost in the creases of this political and theological entanglement.”

Fortunæ’s beady black eyes watched him intensely, it was clear that she was a woman who kept her cards close to her chest. “You are here to protect the current climate in which our tranquil society remains under the control of Cardinal Villim, while he utilises the Tenes as pawns in this war he plans to wage.”

“No one…tik tik…mentioned war,” gulped the thief from Klklk, Bug.

She flicked her gaze to him, it was the first time she had noticed the young alien man. He did not demand the attention that was demanded by the Grecian beauty or the muscular warrior, he was docile in their presence and afraid of what they might do or say to affect him but Fortunæ could sense a growing power within him. She could see that it would not manifest physically but there was a growth that intrigued her, her gaze brought bafflement to the alien’s viridian features and she broke from the stare.

“A struggle for power is always closely followed by war,” snarled the crone.

“Should I…tik tik…be worried about that?” Bug enquired nervously, leaning into the Greek’s earshot.

Persephone turned to him, coldly. “Doubtful. How important could you possibly be?”

Fortunæ looked on knowingly. “You are noble, warrior. Yet, you do not know our customs and our history and future escapes you. As a member of the once great leadership of Sarka, there were struggles but there were also times of great strength. With Fr’nz, this planet and this city were pulled from the brink of destruction.”

Bill pondered this momentarily. “Fortunæ, as you said. We cannot hope to understand the history of Sarka in a quick conversation but we cannot help this country if we do not know the truth.”

She nodded curtly. “I shall tell you all.”

“What of our friends?” Persephone interjected, her expression adequately bore her distaste for the word she used. “They remain missing.”

Glancing over her shoulder and exhibiting a curt nod at the crowd, the B-team of the Guardians of the Galaxy watched the crowd part until only a hooded woman stood before them. Gracefully she marched forward, her hood continuing to hide her face, and she came to halt beside the much older woman. Scarred, indigo-hued hands reached from under the brown robe and revealed the face of the young woman. There where murmurings within the crowd but they remained in a state of uncertainty.

She was endearing, for sure, but there was little to be called remarkable about her. Lengthy masses of azure hair was pulled back from her strongly defined face and mounted on her head, she bore markings that the others did not. Pale white flecks across her exposed arms and chest, there was formality in the young woman’s attire also. It was clear that she did not belong with the society she now resided.

“This is Amarelle, the daughter of our fair King Rap’rt and Queen Vik’trya,” the crone informed them. “She is an illegitimate child of the court and therefore, a glorified chambermaid. We saved Amarelle from that life and in return she became our sleeper agent within the Royal Family, with access to the Citadel.”

Amarelle spoke in her native tongue, and Fortunæ translated.

“There was information of outsiders allying themselves with the Tenes and she says they were unharmed, the battle cost them no lives,” Fortunæ concluded.

“Are they still allied with the Tenes?” Persephone erupted from silence.

“She cannot understand you, Goddess, Amarelle is only fluent in the language of her people,” the crone replied. “She has no more information on the matter. You’re allies were last seen in the Citadel after a battle that destroyed the main sector of our city. They fought valiantly but got little thanks from the heavy-handed justice of this society.”

Bill approached her. “You agreed to explain the details of Sarka to us, do not retreat on your word.”

“I shall not retreat. I am a woman of my word. I have already seen how Sarka’s last days will come and pass; I have no need to lie. All I see is the truth, warrior.”

Cocking a brow, the Goddess ushered forward. “Could it be, Prophetess? I have never witnessed one outside of earthling civilisation.”

“We exist, and we see all,” Fortunæ continued. “I knew you would come but you’re allegiances remained clouded. All I know is that we are fighting a losing battle, and betrayal will come from within your ranks.”

Bill snorted. Stormbreaker was held firmly in his hands and his eyes became narrowed. Bug cowered a few paces behind him whilst Persephone stood with dignity by his side, her glare matching the crone before them. Beta Ray Bill was an old-fashioned warrior, he had fought for his country and watched it die and because of that there was a sense of good in all men. Betrayals were something in which he had little experience with and he refused to begin.

“You must be mistaken, we have no traitors within our ranks,” he replied tartly.

Persephone searched his face, compassion marking hers. “Cassandra, daughter of Priam was not wrong. Troy chose not to believe her and because of that, it fell. We learn from our mistakes, Bill.”

Bug cautiously adjusted his helmet in the background.

“Sarka will be reborn from the ashes of the civilisation that was allowed to die,” Fortunæ told them, calmly.

Reaching the Goddess by the wrist and dragging her to the side of the alien thief, his expression portrayed determination as he spoke. “We have to get to the Universal Church of Truth, and we have to get some answers. Then we get the others and get off this hellhole.”

He turned to look at the prophetess.

“Will you lead us to the Church?”

“I do not have much choice, warrior. It is my destiny.”

Sarka Forestry

{“Hold it.”}

Simultaneously, the four deserters came to a stop and spun on their heels. Major Victory led the way as Mantis guided Emperor Hn’rik shortly behind them. Rocket Raccoon filled out the quartet with his gun pointed into the small of the Emperor’s back to quieten him after ten minutes of screaming and insults. Rocket had hoped Mantis would tune him out of their heads but he assumed the language of this race was no nicer to listen too at such high frequencies.

{“Release the Emperor into my custody, and I’ll do minimum damage,”} smirked the head of police in Sarka, Mar’cel.

{“I’ve seen chipmunks with more intimidation than you,”} snarled the over-tired and downtrodden Rocket.

Mantis moved to the end of the cue.

{“Major, Rocket, get the Emperor to the Church and get us some answers. Drax is up to something,”} the viridian beauty ordered. {“One has got things under control here.”}

{“Mantis…”}

{“One has got this, Vance.”}

Her telepathic prodding gave their de facto leader the strength he needed to see her for the beacon of power that she was, and he led Rocket and the Emperor into the thickets of the undergrowth. It was dark and there was little light offered to them, but as an Avenger, she had fought in worse situations.

Mantis remembered the teachings of her father, the crucial martial arts and the abilities he had taught her. She was an adept combatant, as well as a projectile fighter. It was why the Avengers had seen her as an asset in their battles against the Cotati and Korvac. She walked through the dashes of light that broke through the canopy of trees above them. The vastness of the colour blue was beginning nauseate the young woman, alien by nature but Vietnamese by birth, as she slipped easily into her battle stance.

{“A woman does not frighten me.”}

{“That’s fine. One doesn’t need to frighten you to kick your ass.”}

Ploughing forward, she flipped and landed with her feet square on the alien marshal’s chest as he stumbled back but managed to maintain his balance. Mar’cel defended himself against the numerous kicking attacks she attempted to deliver, all the time backing him into the corner. Grabbing at her ankle, he thrust her forward and caused her to tumble and roll into recovery.

Bouncing to her feet, she jumped forward and landed on his shoulders. In this action, Mantis successfully managed to match their weight enough to she could lunge backwards from his body and pulled her after him. Flipping the much larger man into the bough of a tree with a tremendous thud, the sound of smashing echoed in the forest.

Mar’cel pulled a gun that was quickly dislodged from his hand by a strike from the young woman, her eyes intensified by fury, as she delivered a roundhouse kick to his jaw with disastrous results. Blood trickled from all too open gashes that quickly formed and she propelled herself forward for a second time, turning the blade he produced for her into his own chest.

Gurgling, blood boiled in his mouth and the alien collapsed as Mantis burst through the forestry.

Trees began to smash behind her pacing footsteps.

Universal Church of Truth

“Get it all packed, and hurry. We don’t have much time.”

Cardinal Villim came to a stop, purple robes with gold hems sprawled around his body and the Skrull struggled to keep his footing on the white marble flooring. Villim watched as his assistant stumbled off into one of the off-branching hallways. Red eyes watched from the shadows, instead of finding fear in himself there was only a sense of amusement on the Cardinal’s face.

Drax the Destroyer, a beast with a reputation that preceded him, stepped from the darkness with smugness upon his features. Bulging muscles ran across his exposed upper body while his lower body was hid behind purple shorts. Red markings of blood dripped across his chest, symbols he had once known but no longer understood. Light caught on the man’s bald scalp and glistened wildly, acting to intimidate as seriously as the man’s appearance or his shocking eyes.

“I had expected you or your allies.”

“My allies are battling with your beasts,” Drax snarled in response. “I see your going somewhere.”

“I have business with the Church abroad. It has become too dangerous here, now that the Uncreated have broken the borders…”

He paused.

“How would a man in hiding so far from the scene of the crime know of the latest attack from the heathens?”

Villim scowled. “I would appear to have been rumbled. I should probably feel worse but what’s done is done. There is no time to save this nation.”

{“You used me!”}

Emperor Hn’rik appeared at the doorway, flanked by Major Victory and Rocket Raccoon, who gave a heavy pant upon coming to a stop. Hn’rik’s eyes bulged in their sockets as he witnessed the exchange of the Cardinal and Drax. {“I trusted you to lead the path and all you accomplished was destroying our home.”}

In a single motion from the Cardinal a flurry of armed ‘priests’ of the Universal Church of Truth burst onto the scene, threatening the safety of the newly arrived men. Major Victory moved to the forefront of the trio, unsheathing his shield from where it was placed on his back. Strategically placed to allow maximum movement in the battlefields he had faced as a member of the Guardians of the Galaxy, a future faction of intergalactic heroes.

Launching the shield forward as a weapon, there was a clattering as one of the priest’s spears landed on the marble. Blood splattered as the priest’s head landed beside his weapon, the shield boomeranged back into the hands of the hero. His eyes narrowed, murder had never been how he had wanted to deal with the problems he could have faced. Instead, he wanted to become diplomatic. This choice had been made for him, they carried weapons and they harnessed power. It was a case of do or die.

Even in the most of chaotic times, it was clear that there was a light at the end of the tunnel but the sight before him caused him to question that. There had been suspicions in his mind concerning the Cardinal since their meeting at the Citadel but now the truth emerged in front of him.

Drax stood at the opposite side of the firing line.

“A lot we can do, Rocket,” muttered the leader through heavy breaths. “But even we can’t take down all of this alone.”

Rocket grunted, leaping forward with his sword at the ready.

Chaos sounded from behind them, electricity shooting past their feet and forced both of the intergalactic heroes to check across their shoulders. Major Victory’s heart leapt at the sight of the very two heroes he had forced to stay behind, they where the aide he needed more than ever,

Beta Ray Bill demanded his attention; Stormbreaker raising high above his head before landing on the bodies of the priest’s that came to threaten him. Equine features roared in anger with each blast that was dealt from the muscular warrior’s weapon. Emerging from behind his back was the svelte frame of the Grecian Goddess Persephone, her hands extended elegantly from her body as electricity bolted from her very palms, similar energies danced in her eyes.

Even in the midst of battle, she astonished him.

“Back-up,” grinned Rocket, continuing to swipe his blade at the oncoming assailants. “Not a moment too soon.”

Major Victory returned his focus to where it belonged, unleashing a condensed blast of psychokinetic energy from his body. In truth, he was just another time-displaced mutant. “You’re telling me.”

Grunting through the strain, he noticed the variety of different aliens that emerged from the priesthood of the cult ahead of him. Tearing them limb from limb seemed so pointless, a steady stream of the men just lay beyond the last, willing to die for their “cause”. It was then that he caught sight of his comrade at the forefront of the battle.

Drax cornered the Cardinal. “You’re ideals where correct, the society has doomed itself but you’re reign of murder and destruction has ended Cardinal.”

“More will rise in my place, Destroyer. There are always more,” replied the stoic theologist, his fear masked by ignorance.

Smirking, the green devil snapped the man’s neck in a simple movement. “I will finish what you started.”

Within him, surges of power catapulted themselves to the front. Each internal blast radiated an immense amount of heat, in a moment of what he could only describe as passionate freedom, energy roared through the hall. Seeping from his body at superhuman pace, even Quicksilver or the Silver Surfer would have been dumbfounded by its speed. Galactus could not have withstood its force. He watched the foot servants of the theologian he had just murdered burn before him.

He laughed with unadulterated pleasure.

Major Victory released his own psychokinetic energies in the form of a powerful force field, forcing the fiery blast of his teammate away from him. He pulled Rocket under its protection, blood streamed from his nose as he pushed with all of his heart and soul, but the strength of the Destroyer outmatched him, a hundred times or more. As he slipped he was caught. Drearily, he looked into the eyes of Beta Ray Bill and watched the fading blue energy become reconstituted by the viridian glow.

Persephone chanted in her own language. “Demeter, protect us.” She called on her mother, Demeter, for the protection she had always been offered but she had refused to take.

Slowly, as she opened her eyes, she watched the bodies of the men who had so recently threatened her burn beneath the essence of raw power. It emanated from the one man on their motley crew who she could never bring herself to trust. Death had been her life for so long, millennia had passed as she reigned as the Queen of the Underworld but there was never a reprieve for the dead.

Death was always just the beginning, humans where too foolish to notice that themselves.

“Sarka is truly falling,” Fortunæ muttered, she stood tall but it was clear that her heart broke with every falling pillar that surrounded her.

Major Victory forced himself upright. “We have failed you, and your people.”

His eyes caught sight of the burning body of Emperor Hn’rik, who had fallen early in the battle. The spear that had killed the ruler, the man who thought he had ruled, still arced from his face which was contorted in the emotion of realisation that once had failed.

Fortunæ shook her head. “We can not, and could not have been saved.”

The Goddess continued to chant, as tsunamis formed from the nothing and crashed through the hall, extinguishing the flames that had threatened them.

Bill placed his hand on the young woman’s shoulder, watching as the viridian shield fell and the heat rushed across the threshold. It caught his breath for a moment but then he noticed Drax the Destroyer standing triumphant at the front of the hall. Smugly smirking as they made their way through the ash and gathered puddles in their approach.

“You don’t do anything on the budget do you?” Bill called to the Destroyer, who merely continued to smirk.

Persephone barged ahead. “What he means, is that you could have killed us all. Many of the people you fight with are not impervious to heat, nor death.”

“You survived, did you not?” Drax looked over them, faking concern. “I see that none of you fell in the attack. If I remember correctly, the other woman was not among your number when you all arrived.”

His eyes met those of Fortunæ and the remainder of her people.

“Even some of the natives made it.”

“You are the demon…” gasped the crone.

“One does not know if she wants to know what happened here.”

Mantis stood in the doorway; her clothes tattered and blood framing the contours of her face and body. Slamming the door shut, the woman marched forward until she was side by side with her teammates. She smiled at Major Victory in his hurried response about her health but she did not acknowledge the other questions that where thrown at her. She had news and the need to inform them.

“We must hurry,” she continued. “The Uncreated march toward us, they will shortly be here.” Looking over her shoulder, she acknowledged the voices in her head. “The remainder of the priesthood will also soon be upon us.”

“Guys, get ready. Looks like we’re in for part two,” ordered Major Victory, his eyes searching contact with each member he had gathered whilst on Earth. He had formed them for a singular purpose and he would ensure their survival.

“We can’t take them all on,” Rocket Raccoon responded, speaking what the others where thinking. “Our number is low and our people are weakened and tired.”

“Speak for yourself,” growled Drax.

“You do not end this war,” the prophetess interjected the argument that erupted amongst the team. “It is their role in the history of our earth.”

In the moment it took for the team’s gaze to meet hers and rest on the bodies of Mantis and Persephone, the doors and walls of the hallway smashed open. Intermittently, the Uncreated and the priesthood streamed into the room. Fortunæ pushed them all backwards, into the rooms beyond the foyer. Uncreated close on their heels.

Drax stood on.

“Drax,” called Mantis, her eyes flashed with frustration. “You cannot do this alone.”

“I have before,” he replied, reminiscing in the power he no longer felt capable of.

“And you think you’re ready for an encore?” she yelled at him, emotion swelling its banks. “Get the fuck back here.”

“That is ladylike,” snorted Persephone, standing with her arms crossed behind the human woman.

“Run Persephone.”

Mantis, Drax the Destroyer and Persephone rushed down the hallway as the Uncreated smashed into the walls behind them. The inhuman creatures fought with one another, each desperate to feed on the beings that displayed and smelt of divinity. Persephone stepped back as the men bolted the doors, each holding it in place against the oncoming monsters.

It burst open and spears burst through, she ducked to dodge it, and looked up as the men temporarily regained control. Chanting the familiar incantation again, Persephone bought them a little extra time.

“What does that mean?” Rocket enquired of her, as he marched towards her.

“I call on my mother, she protects me,” whispered the Goddess as she turned away from the group to see what she had not expected.

Fortunæ was slumped, the spear piercing through her chest. The young Goddess rushed to her side and slipped to her knees, she pulled the spike from the crone and rested her head on her shoulders. Persephone had witnessed many falls in battle but she had never expected to have played a part. She was slowly learning that maybe only Hercules and Ares where fit to break into the world of heroism.

“Fortunæ,” she murmured, tears threatened to take over the Goddess.

The prophetess looked up at her momentarily. “You know what has to be done.”

Persephone bolted to her feet as the woman’s life faded from her eyes, like so many others in the accursed world. It was clear what had to be done, but she hadn’t the power accomplish it for herself. It was truly in the hands of only the Goddesses. Cosmic and Earth meshed together in the one defining moment of either of their lives, it would not be recorded and it would not be remembered but it would be magnificent.

“It’s okay…tik tik…It had to…tik tik…happen,” Bug comforted her on his approach.

“You must go,” she announced. “You must all go.”

“We don’t leave without you,” Major Victory insisted, raising his voice over the smashing outside the door.

Persephone grabbed him the by the neck and threw him back into the group of men, pulling Mantis to her side. “You will do as told. That spell will break and we will be rushed and killed. I will not allow petty arguments to stop this. There is no choice in this matter.” Elegantly throwing her hand towards them, she spoke again. “Hermes, I urge you to accelerate our way.”

Seconds saw the oncoming figure of Major Victory fade from existence. Drax the Destroyer, Bug, Beta Ray Bill and Rocket Raccoon similarly erupted into the whorls of green energy and disappeared from sight. It was a necessary precaution; she could not risk their lives.

“What did she want us to do?”

“I am not a fan of Christian literature,” started the Greek. “In the layman terms, we will be recreating Noah’s Ark, without Noah.”

Mantis gasped. “We’re expected to flood this world. One is not capable of that.”

“No,” Persephone shook her head. “We are expected to annihilate it. Only in death comes rebirth. You are capable of this. I need you. My sorcery is powerful here but it is not what it was on Earth. In this domain, I need a cosmic goddess as my beacon.”

“This one,” she nodded, uncertainty masking her eyes.

Persephone held out her hand, as Mantis grasped it in her own. Energy flickered between their hands and viridian and lavender burst to life between them. Persephone looked radiant; the power bristled through her blonde locks and caught in her eyes, illuminating their already vibrant colours. Mantis felt paled in comparison, it was more power than she was used to dealing with but when the connection was matched, she felt empowered.

“Are you ready?”

“One is as ready as she can be.”

Doors burst open as the shield fell and the monsters they had locked out burst in on them. Tranquillity was broken and the screams of Fortunæ’s plighted and dying people reverberated around the room until she spoke, and silence fell.

“Regeneration in death,” chanted the Grecian Goddess of Springtime, Persephone, in her melodic native tongue.

Sarka burned in white around them.

KNOTES FROM KNOWHERE

Here it is, just short of a year after the series launch we have the conclusion to the first arc. This was my first title at the site and it was a tough road getting there, Dino definitely made me work for it but that’s something I’m thankful for. It is mainly due to Dino that I really learned how to write a decent proposal and then transform those ideas into a suitable storyline. I’m not saying this arc was a work of art but hey, it was a start.

I had originally proposed a New X-Men: Academy X title many a year ago then when I was rightly rejected, I stayed in TheHouseofIdeas.net. I later returned in the summer of 2008 with a proposal for Black Widow, which would be accepted but then I lost interest after so long off the title with computer difficulties. Then the task was for finding an adequate replacement series. I went for The Ultimates and then moved into the main universe with Avengers Infinity in the August of 2009.

Avengers Infinity then became Guardians of the Galaxy. There were cast changes and there were storylines dropped. Major Victory, Beta Ray Bill and Mantis were the three core members of the team. Drax the Destroyer and Rocket Raccoon where thrown in for good measure after the Starjammers series came to an end, long before Travis Hiltz took the reigns. Then came the final slot, which was almost an original character. Sif had been considered before she was replaced with the poetic tragedy, cousin of Hercules and Ares, Persephone.

I dropped some concepts, the debrief logs lasted an issue or two?

Now, what we have is the Guardians of the Galaxy #0-#5, and their complete first arc. There were ups and there were downs but I hope you enjoyed what was on offer and will enjoy what the future holds for the team.

I just wanted to thank everyone who had taken the time to read these issues and show me the support every writer wants.

Thanks guys,

Gavin McMahon
June 15, 2010