Times Square

New York City

The devil crouched atop the uppermost ledge of the old Times Building at the southern end of the Deuce looking down at the area for any signs of danger. As always it was still bustling with tourists taking in the late night sights, loud, mostly illegal venders hawking their wares from collapsible card tables set along the sidewalks trying to make a sale, theater-goers and those old-time residents still out trying to make a buck; hookers and their pimps, junkies and pushers, not to mention the homeless, ever-present in even the most affluent neighborhoods. Even from high above, the man clad in scarlet could tell who belonged and those who were just passing through, whether to simply see another of Manhattan’s landmark attractions or to get a thrill, whatever it was.

It’s not the same, Matt Murdoch thought, focusing on an extended blaring of horns down below on Broadway; just a cab cutting off the flow of traffic; nothing to worry about in the ‘new’ Times Square. The Grind Houses were disappearing slowly, the old movie houses showing 70’s Kung-Fu films and sex shows, which he had never seen. The kinky, XXX video shops and Peep Shows were being forced further and further west, dwindling in number, the old buildings that housed them being revitalized or simply torn down for the eye sores they apparently were, not that he could tell beyond shape and smell. Even the layout of the very streets had changed, now including small stretches of pedestrian walkways and parks for people to sit, enjoy their Starbucks latee and relax for a bit. It was all more or less safe.

Matt Murdoch sighed and adjusted his position a bit, easing the tension in his legs as he considered. It was what he had been fighting for so hard all these years; to clean up Times Square, the entire city for that matter. Now it was happening, but he realized it had little to do with him in the end. Corporations had moved in and the gentrification had begun. And it wasn’t just here. Once-industrial Tribeca had become the latest haven for up-and-coming Yuppies to plant their roots in the city. The Lower East Side was no longer full of clubs and trash bars, the squatters being cleared out and the neighborhood being razed and rebuilt. Even Hell’s Kitchen where he had been born and raised was no longer the same. Now called Clinton it was full of refurbished tenements turned condo, brownstones and tree-lined streets. The city was changing, along with the times. He just hoped he could change with them.

Sirens in the distance broke his reveries; EMT by the pulse, blocks uptown but coming closer, slowly through the traffic. He focused trying to find the source, the reason for their call, his senses expanding as he blocked out the extraneous noises of the Square.

There! A clump of people gathered at the far end of the official Square on 47th Street; shouting, heart rates elevated, the tang of sudden sweat and panic. Another, gasping… moans… a slowing pulse. Someone was having a heart attack. Should he…

No; someone was administering CPR. The sirens were louder now, clear, turning down Broadway. The EMT’s would be there soon enough. He wasn’t needed.

Then what had drawn him here, he wondered as he concentrated, drawing his senses back, his radar pulsing. What was the danger? It involved Sentry somehow, he sensed, though just how he did not know. And he was a member of the Defenders now, he thought. Strange, in more ways than one.

Perhaps a visit to Greenwich Village was in order.

Creatures of the universe, hear me now…

Matt Murdoch screamed as his senses overloaded. He fell back from his perch, landing in the grit and grime of the roof of One Times Square, writhing on the ground and holding his ears uselessly against the voice blaring in his mind.  It was psychic, he knew, he had experienced the effect before, but never on such a powerful scale. His enhanced senses were overwhelmed until the voice blotted out everything; the sirens, the crowds, all the other noise below. There was only the voice.

The Daredevil, proud defender of Hell’s Kitchen simply curled up in a ball on the rooftop and whimpered, listening. There was nothing else he could do…

Avengers Sensing Station

Deep Space

Wendell Vaughn ran along the spiraling track encircling the small gymnasium within the small space station, A: 47.39. The Sensing Station set at the edge of the Kree Galaxy- or as close as Earth’s sciences could place it- remained quiet as usual for the past several months. Still and again, as usual, the station needed to be manned occasionally, if just to run a scan and give the systems a thorough update and cleaning.

“It’s a dirty job,” Wendell laughed as he checked his Fit-Bit and his temperature, breathing rate, blood pressure and pulse. As usual, again, his body’s functions were near peak and perfect, as expected. He still needed to send Scott Lang a message, thanking him for the little, Stark Industries device, not that he really needed it. Still, it was nice someone remembered he was out here. Aside from his weekly reports, he had little contact with the Avengers, and that was usually with Jarvis; not that he was complaining. The Avengers butler could play a devious game of Chess, despite the time delay of the messages.

Speaking of which, he would need to contact the Living Lightning too, for his latest update. Wendell wasn’t sure exactly where Miguel Santos was at the moment; another station perhaps, or out on patrol in the realms of known space. The man did get around, as did Monica Rambeau, but on a much larger scale. He hoped Photon was due for a visit soon; he could use the company.

Creatures of the universe, hear me now…

His world suddenly tilted sideways and Quasar found himself floating freely through the space of the gymnasium. The artificial gravity in the workout room had failed apparently as the voice boomed in his head, though he could not imagine how that was possible. Too, the Quantum Bands forever attached to his wrists almost burned with an intensity of power he had not felt in years. He was no longer the ‘Defender of the Universe’; no longer possessing the Cosmic Awareness briefly granted him by the entity known as Eon. That distinction now went to Genis-Vell, one of the many Captain Marvels according to the latest reports he had read; the son of the original hero to hold that title, Mar-Vell.

Wendell Vaughn shook his head to clear his rambling thoughts as he floated back onto the running path to regain his equilibrium. He took a deep breath- not that he needed to breathe as the Quantum Bands kept him safe, mostly- but it helped. He cleared his mind, trying to find the source of the voice, but he could not lock on it. It seemed to be everywhere, throughout dimensions and space, echoing through realities beyond number.

The Avenger, Quasar, girded his strength and listened as a feeling of utter dread washed over him. There was nothing else to do…

S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier: Constellation

Seattle, Washington

Carol Danvers glanced at the others seated at the conference table aboard the Helicarrier and saw they were all as shocked and wide-eyed as she must appear. Dugan looked almost comical with his ever-present cigar hanging loosely in his lips, while Quartermain’s wide smile actually faltered.

Creatures of the universe, hear me now…

They had been going over the latest reports pertaining to the rebuilding of Seattle, Washington after the Savage Hulk’s rampage through the city some weeks… months ago. The city had been almost devastated by the Gamma-spawned brute turned mindless in his latest incarnation. As had Manhattan, Kansas…

Her failure.

Unlike Seattle, which had been reduced to a massive pile of shattered buildings and broken homes, Manhattan had been simply wiped from the map by a nuclear missile fired by the mad robot, Ultron. She and the Invincible Iron-Man had tried to stop that devastation, but they both fell short. Despite their best efforts, the missile had exploded far too close to the town and thousands had died. Thousands…

That was her fault she knew, but there was nothing to be done after the fact. The people were dead and there was nothing left to be rebuilt. S.H.I.E.L.D. had gone in of course to do the best they could, trying to find and help any survivors. And other agencies as well; W.H.O., Homeland Security, S.W.O.R.D., the United Nations, FEMA…

But there was nothing left.

Carol Danvers almost died that day, but it didn’t matter. She had failed. Stark had failed, though he seemed to be taking it better than she did at the time. He was like that. He’d dealt with most of his inner demons long ago; repressed them maybe and became hard with what he had to do.

But she still cared. All the blood on her hands over her failure, which was why when the Hulk moved on leaving behind miles of destruction in his wake, she joined the taskforce to help rebuild Seattle. It was hard, grueling at times, and the dead she found in the expanse of rubble weighed heavy on her soul. The Avengers should have done more, the Defenders…

She should have done more.

Seattle was coming back though. The city was being rebuilt, people were returning to new, refurbished homes, businesses were reopening fresh and clean, life was restoring; Not quite normal, nor what it once was, but the Emerald City was breathing with life once more. She aimed to help keep it breathing, no matter what.

But now, with the strange voice apparently echoing in everyone’s head, the once-Avenger, Warbird, wondered just what this meant for the city she had come to love and call home. She would be damned if she let another city fall on her watch.

But, God help her, for the first time in months, she needed a drink…

The Skrull Empire

Tarnax VIII: STONE

Deep Cell XVII

For seemingly the millionth time, Kl’rt paced the tiny confines of his dark cell probing for a weakness that was not there. All his efforts found nothing, all his power created none. There was not a single scar in the smooth Inertron walls; not a blemish or crack in the densest material known to Skrull. There was not a window to gaze out at the stars, nor even a door or a slot to slide a food tray through. He saw no one; spoke to no one- no contact. There was no light to see, no cot to sleep upon, no toilet for his waste (not that he needed one). There was nothing…

It was the perfect prison for one such as he, with walls too thick to pound down, fire resistant and not a molecule’s width of hole or gap to possibly squeeze through. There were no guards to fool or persuade, so invisibility proved useless. There was only the Empath; the female he never saw, who never spoke but simply monitored his vital signs and thoughts to keep track of him. There was no light but for the heralding glow of the once-daily arrival of his protein cube; the only food he received teleported into his cell. Just as he must have been, how many months ago, awakening in this hole.

It was Hell…

It was a Hell designed to hold and punish the Super-Skrull; once the proudest warrior of the Skrull Empire, now a prisoner and enemy of the state… a failure. And not all the combined powers of the Fantastic Four could set him free.

Feeling the anger swell Kl’rt called forth the flame. He summoned the energies broadcast by the satellite floating somewhere in space, amplifying the power cells within his shapeshifting body even as his form morphed into a rocklike substance. The fires danced and flickered white-hot over his body as he shifted the form of his hand, watching it grow to mammoth proportions, blazing like a meteor. He grit his teeth and focused his mind then, forming a wedge, a funnel of invisible force. He breathed deeply as he gathered his inner Chi; all his will and might to deliver one mighty blow.

Kl’rt sensed the Empath suddenly in his mind; harried and almost frantic, trying to sooth his anger and shut him down. And something more…

He ignored her as he drew back a gargantuan, rocky fist, dense and solid, blazing white with fire. He drove forward following the energies mimicking the Invisible Woman, his flaming fist slamming into the impenetrable, indestructible wedge of force created through the tapping of power from the Hyperverse. The Empath screamed as he struck his mightiest blow ever…

Creatures of the universe, hear me now…

Kl’rt listened to the voice echoing in his head as he inspected the impenetrable wall. The Empath was gone; he could sense the emptiness within, pushed out by the voice of reason and logic. He smirked.

A Watcher…

A pacifist and observer gone rogue by the sound, yet another would-be God with schemes and delusions of grandeur. Kl’rt paid him no heed as he studied the wall and the faintest, hairline fracture. It was barely a blemish, but it was enough as Kl’rt focused on his energies once more, drawing on his power.

The Super-Skrull would be free…

And Everywhere…

Creatures of the universe, hear me now…

The Dark Dimension

Umar, sister of Dormammu paused, considering all the voice had to say…

The Shi’ar Imperion

Chandilar

The Majestrix looked up, breathing hard and perspiring as she listened to the voice of Aron in her mind. She bit her lip in concern, matters of the Empire crashing in upon her, wondering just how this would affect her rule and those she was Blood-Sworn to protect. Beneath her the Shivarn’n Halanau was taking deep breaths trying to regain his energy, slick and musky. He was spent.

With a sigh the Majestrix slipped from her bed leaving the Royal Consort behind to recover. Barefoot and naked she hurried across the vast Royal Chambers to the Relay Station flashing wildly with lights in the far corner of the room. She scanned the monitor board, muting the alarm and the frantic voices of worried Senators, Force Commanders and even Gladiator of the Imperial Guard clogging the system. She had no answers for them, and truth be told, she was worried as well.

She had heard the legends of the mythical Cosmic Egg and what it could potentially do; alter all Reality in the image of the one who shattered it. She could only imagine the dreams of a mad, rogue Watcher and what her world might become. But she had to do something to calm the masses.

Duty called…

Earth

Manhattan, New York

The Spider-Man screamed as his Spider Sense erupted far louder than ever before. He felt his body falling and he twisted in midair, reaching out for the wall. His body arched insanely as he thrust his arm out; webbing spewing from his wrists to strike the closest shadow. He swung, slamming against the cold stone, his fingers probing for a grip.

Peter Parker breathed in great heaving breaths of air as he clung to the building’s wall, listening to the voice booming in his head; the mad Watcher telling his plans to recreate the universe. Images laced in scarlet flashed in his mind’s eye as he watched helpless.

He wanted to help, but he had no idea what to do. But he knew someone who would.

The Spider-Man aimed his webbing at a far building and screwed up his courage. He swung out, soaring over the city streets far below on a thin strand of spider web, twisting and kicking through the stone and glass canyons of Manhattan with his uptown goal in mind…

Four Freedoms Plaza

Manhattan, New York

“Stay here,” Deborah Bernard urged as she ushered the two Richards children into the ‘Safe Room’.

It was one of the most defensible rooms in the entire building complete with the thickest walls possible, a force field, once she sealed the room and all the amenities anyone might desire. It reminded her of the bomb shelter her grandfather had constructed in his backyard back in the Fifties; proof against a nuclear war with Russia or Cuba or whoever was the enemy at the time. The room was large and filled with comfortable furniture, beds, an enclosed bathroom and shower area, food to last seemingly forever, a full computer and media relay system; anything one might need, all for several people within to survive disaster indefinitely.

“But I wanna help!”

Franklin Richards grabbed her arm in almost a death grip as she tried to back out of the room. She looked down at him- a handsome youth- so wanting to be a man. Behind him his sister Valeria looked on hopefully, trying not to be afraid and clutching her small plush doll to her chest for strength and support; a ‘Thing’ doll. Deborah had to smile at the children she loved so much; so strong and like their family.

But, as their Nanny and Guardian, it was her job to see they were always safe. And right now the Safe Room was the best option. Her charges needed to be secure from whatever this Aron had planned, and as soon as she found out what was going on she would be back and join them, and defend them with her life. But for now…

“Franklin,” she soothed with a reassuring smile pulling her arm free and grabbing his as she squatted down on her heels before him, “Frank; You have to be strong now. I know you want to help, but your parents want you safe, and right now this is where you need to be. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to find out, and when I do I’ll be back and join you.

“Right now, I need you to protect your sister.”

Franklin Richards looked back over his shoulder casting a worried glance to little Valeria standing behind him in the room, kneading her doll. She was gazing at them both with tears in her eyes as the Watcher’s voice droned on in all their minds. She could feel his tense body sag in her grip after a moment and with a sigh he looked back at Deborah.

“I will, Debbie,” he said firmly looking far older than he was, “I’ll protect Val.” Deborah Bernard nodded and drew him in hugging him close. She stood and tousled his hair.

“I know you will, Frank. You’re a fine man.” Deborah stepped back out of the doorway glancing at the sensor lights lining the frame. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She flipped open the cover on the side console set in the outer wall and quickly typed in the proper sequence of buttons. The door slid shut immediately and the force field glowed to life, sealing the Safe Room and activating all the functions within; air processing, food regeneration, plumbing and maintenance along with the computer generated defenses including H.E.R.B.I.E.

Debbie knew the tiny floating robot would protect the children until she returned as she hurried towards the stairwell. The construct was annoying, but it was totally dedicated to the Fantastic Four’s protégés and would guard them with its mechanical life. Reed Richards had constructed it years ago when Johnny Storm left the team for personal reasons. The robot however never quite fit in with the team proper, but it was definitely a good guardian for Franklin and later, Valeria. Deborah trusted it as another line of defense.

H.E.R.B.I.E. was retired though when Susan Richards, the Invisible Woman, felt her children needed more personal interaction with a real human being. She reached out into the Hero community looking for the proper care, considering Agatha Harkness, as she was Franklin’s original guardian and baby-sitter, but finally settling on a recommendation from Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. himself.

Just why Fury had recommended her, Deborah had no idea. She had no children herself, though she and her husband, Jon, had tried after she retired from S.H.I.E.L.D. in good standing, but with no luck. But Nick Fury had an uncanny knack; to see things in other people, and he had apparently seen something in her, though she had never met the Director before she had been offered the job. She jumped at the chance; to be with children, which she loved, and still be in the loop of the superhero community, which she craved as well.

Deborah charged up the stairs heading to the upper floors of Four Freedoms Tower, flashing her I.D. for the scanners at every floor. The security card she always carried bypassed most of the sensors allowing her to advance unimpeded as she was trusted; almost a member of the family. She knew she was still scanned every step of the way, but her biometrics jibed with the Identity Card as well as the Infra-Red-based mechanism in her belt, which allowed her access to all the upper floor of the Tower except for Professor Richards’ most private, secured labs.

Deborah burst from the stairwell on the 77th floor and ran down the hall. She stopped just long enough at a side panel, punching in her security access under the building computer’s scrutiny. The small door in the wall slid open and she quickly surveyed the weapons therein. She grabbed a rifle she recognized; one of Richard’s creations that fired a varying array of plasma bursts with devastating effect. She closed the panel and with her S.H.I.E.L.D. training taking over, gripped the heavy gun in a defensive stance and hurried towards the Communications Chamber at the end of the hall.

A quick security scan opened the door and allowed her inside where she saw the remaining members of the Fantastic Four. Johnny Storm, the Human Torch, was lightly aflame, sitting in an apparently resilient chair not far from the main console. The handsome man was twirling a fiery lasso in the air above him from his finger, impatiently staring at his sister and brother-in-law working the computers and monitor equipment. His sister, Susan Richards was working the control panel of a huge machine which Debbie did not recognize. She saw over a dozen view screens showing scenes of panic and chaos around the city, the world and beyond. She recognized a few of the more familiar faces of friends and fellow heroes; T’Challa, the Black Panther, King of all Wakanda, Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts, Nick Fury with Ms. Marvel in the background listening and on the main screen at the moment, the Avenger known as Hawkeye with Mariah Hill behind him and others in the background.

“I don’t know where he is, Clint,” Reed Richards, Mister Fantastic said as his arm stretched out to adjust the controls higher on the monitor board bringing the picture more into focus speaking to Hawkeye. “I have every one of my scanners searching at the moment on every wavelength of the light and sound spectrums known to man and those designed by other entities I’ve interacted with over the years. Aron is somewhere not registered in the shared databanks of the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, S.H.I.E.L.D., S.W.O.R.D.,; no government agency of any country in the United Nations network, or even those more private, isolated countries we’ve dealt with in the past. Not the Dark Dimension,” Deborah saw the image of Doctor Strange grimly nod, “nor the Negative Zone, Subatomica, or the far reaches of interstellar space. The Rogue Watcher is- at the moment- an anomaly, based somewhere in an unknown area and unreachable.

“I am continuing my search patterns of course, and contacting those other beings I have continuing relations with, amenable to help find him and resolve this problem. So far we’ve found nothing.”

“What about on your end, Clint?” Susan Richards asked stepping up beside her husband, “Have you heard from any of the more… celestial Avengers yet?” The Invisible Woman glanced back at her brother to see if he had any input and noticed Debbie for the first time. Susan swiftly flicked her fingers for Debbie to see, Signing the word, ‘children’ with a concerned expression. Deborah caught the sign and quickly responded, ‘Safe Room’; her S.H.I.E.L.D. training kicking in. She saw Susan relax and nod with a smile before turning back to the monitors.

“I already put out a call to all members before this started,” Barton was saying, “including the Reserves and Retirees. We had a bit of a shake-up over here recently.” Barton gave a sheepish smirk. “You know how it is. It takes time though. Some of them are pretty far out.

“The relay from the Deep Space Stations can take a few hours. There’s been no word from Thor in weeks; even longer from Hercules. The West Coast team is doing what they can.” He shrugged. “Hell, I even called the Great Lakes Avengers.” Hawkeye leaned back in his chair and produced an arrow, which he started twirling through his fingers. “Truth ta’ tell; I got nothin’.”

“Unfortunately that seems to be the general consensus.” Reed Richards sighed but Deborah did not see his determination falter. His right arm suddenly stretched across the chamber and started adjusting the dials while his left hand flicked switches with elongated fingers as he continued speaking; his attention divided between so many things it was amazing just to watch.

“What I wanna know is; where’s all the big cheeses of the universe?”

All eyes turned towards the Human Torch. His flame had died a bit, Debbie saw, and he dismissed the flaming lasso as he stood and walked toward the monitor consoles. “Where’s Uatu and the rest of the Watchers? Shouldn’t they be corralling this kid? He’s their responsibility, right? And where’s Galactus… and the In-Betweener… and Eon; all the others? They’re always buttin’ in when we don’t want ‘em to, and now we haven’t heard zilch. Don’t they care?” Johnny Storm looked at his teammates and at the monitors awaiting an answer. After a moment, it was Strange who finally spoke.

“The higher life forms of the universe- all universes- are well aware of what is transpiring, Storm. All who have deigned respond to my pleas and enquiries are working on a solution in their own way. As you well know, however, the self-proclaimed deities and entities are rarely forthcoming with aid to us, the lesser beings.”

“I agree,” T’Challa cut in, his image shifting to the larger monitor, “as we’ve seen in the past, we can’t rely on those higher entities. I’m certain they’re aware and involved in their own mysterious ways, but we must form a plan of our own and be ready to implement it should the opportunity present itself.” Deborah Bernard saw all the others involved in the conversation nod in agreement, and just as suddenly tense.

“What,” she whispered and then she felt it herself. The very air seemed to crackle with static as the visions still fluctuating somewhere in the back of her mind shifted and changed. She saw Aron the Rogue Watcher working his strange, alien devices with intense determination as he had been for fleeting seconds, but behind him now she saw something else; Doctor Doom and the Incredible Hulk and…

“Ben…” Johnny Storm whispered.

Deborah- and she somehow knew everyone, everywhere- saw the trio floating in the background in translucent globes. She saw the Thing rearing back for his patented ‘Best Sunday Punch’ even as the Hulk raged and drew his fist to strike back at Grimm, while the Monarch of Latveria held forth a sparking machine attached to his armor; his entire form sizzling with flashing energies. Each seemed determined to strike the others as the spheres drifted together, and touched.

Aron flinched, his gaze shifting back over his shoulder in distraction. She saw a look of surprise cross his brow as the energies danced and flickered.

CRACK!

And the world exploded…

The Thing

FINALE’

By Curt Fernlund

Benjamin J. Grimm shook his befuddled head trying to regain his senses. There was a ringing in his ears, high-pitched and incessant, and he could not seem to focus through teary eyes blinded by the wildly flashing, colorful lights erupting about the room, wherever he was. On his hands and knees by the feel of it, and on solid ground; hot and radiating humidity. He was sweating, which he didn’t do since the accident that turned him into the Thing years before; Reed Richards’ ill-fated rocket flight. Hell, he never cried either since long before that. He was a veteran- a pilot- and a superhero born and raised on the tough streets of Hell’s Kitchen. He was the Thing, goddammit; he did not cry.

Slowly he rose trying to focus both his mind and strength. He could feel the very air sizzling as Doom’s contraption sparked and glowed like it was building in power. He’d seen the same often enough with Richards’ weird apparatus’s to know that all hell was about to break loose. And he knew the Incredible Hulk could sense it to.

The Jade Giant was standing not so far away, hunched over and flexing, growling under his breath like a dog protecting his territory. Grimm could see the layers of mighty muscles tensed, coiled like a spring ready to uncoil and pounce. He was snarling and looking around with a furious caution, wanting to smash whatever had caged him. Grimm hoped he did not turn the anger on him again, or Doctor Doom. This was the moment when it all came to a head; the reason they had come to the Crimson Dimension and the breach at the center of the universe. All the mind-control and hatred, all the time travel and invading parallel dimensions, destroying lives, worlds and universes. All the pain he had helped cause…

This was the end!

“Fools,” Aron said in a soft, whining voice belying his young age- at least in Watcher years, “your minor victory in somehow managing to escape your globular, transparent prisons mean nothing. My new age is upon us, and soon… very soon the Cosmic Egg will be ready to hatch, by my hand. I will guide the New Universe into being; molding it in its proper course to become a glorious utopia filled with beings that deserve it under my care.

All the foul, arrogant, warlike races will cease to exist; the Kree and Skrull, the Shi’ar. All the monkeys like your pathetic race will be wiped from the fabric of reality. Only the… Aronites will remain, to prosper, learn and grow in peace in my new world of order. And you three simpletons; perhaps I will let you live as reminders of what went before, sad, pathetic monkeys in a world of gods, cursed to forever remember and suffer.”

“Like I ain’t heard that before,” Grimm said finally getting his bearings.

“Keep him talking, Grimm,” Doom hissed, “Just a few more seconds.” Ben glanced at Doom standing on his other side. The apparatus he was wearing was pulsing now, glowing brighter as though about to explode. Whatever his erstwhile companion had planned, it was about to happen. And he’d been in this position before; against Doom even, too many times to count.

“Yer just another penny-ante Hitler, kid,” he continued, “just like Thanos an’ Maximus, the Beyonder. You ain’t shit, pal. We beat them an’ we’ll stop you too.” Aron actually looked confused, just for a moment, and then he smirked.

“Amusing, brute, as always,” Aron gloated, “but it’s a simple matter to place you all back within your prisons; cage you like the monkeys you are and you shan’t get free again.” The Rogue Watcher raised his hand as though to gesture…

But apparently the Hulk had heard enough. He roared his bottled up anger; perhaps hearing he would be caged again or simply seeing something he did not like. He sprang forward, lunging at the young Watcher. Aron’s mouth dropped open in an almost comical ‘O’ of shock, unable to accept the effrontery of the rampaging brute flying his way like a bright green missile. Whatever he had been planning to do fell away as his hand went up in a fending motion; too late.

The Incredible Hulk raged, howling as he slammed hard into the Watcher, ramming the being with the force of an out of control freight train, slamming and pounding as they flew across the crystalline chamber to smash into the far wall embedded with the scarlet shards of the stolen energies of countless dimensions lost to reality. The wall exploded with a crimson flash and Grimm saw those energies spiraling wildly, funneling into the Cosmic Egg perched on the edge of a wide platform overlooking the source of creation. Galaxies churned and flared beyond that edge and the Egg seemed to pulse, bloated and ready to crack.

“Now, Grimm!” Doom shouted over the shattering crystal and the sounds of the Hulk’s roaring, his massive fists pounding relentlessly into the young alien Watcher. Aron had raised a force shield about himself but it was weak and barely holding against the Hulk’s hammering fists. The youth looked panicked, getting desperate. Ben saw the fear suddenly in his dark eyes.

And Doom’s machine suddenly burst forth in a gushing torrent of Kirby-esque energy. Aron screamed as the Hulk only got more enraged, slamming his fists over-and-over into the Watcher-youth. Ben knew Doom’s machine had been cobbled together on the fly, using technology created by Bruce Banner over the years in hope of curing himself of the curse of the Hulk.  He incorporated his own machinations as well; some device he had once used to steal the Silver Surfer’s cosmic powers, making him almost unstoppable but for the brilliant mind of Reed Richards and the edicts of the World-Devourer, Galactus. Ben could feel the strange device even now, sucking at his own cosmic spawned powers as well as the gamma irradiation burning within the Hulk; focusing that energy on the Rogue Watcher to if not outright steal his powers, then to weaken him. And it seemed to be working…

But all around the vast crimson chamber as scarlet shards flared, cracked and exploded. Writhing lines of shimmering energy danced over the shattering walls and ancient machinery built at the birth of the universe by beings long gone and forgotten. Aron the Rogue Watcher was trying to draw on that power even as Doom’s device sucked it away. The Watcher flailed as the Hulk continued to smash, caught in a feral rage, slamming and pounding into the young, ancient alien.

Ben Grimm knew what he was supposed to do as the Hulk whaled on the Watcher and Doom’s apparatus bucked and churned with blinding force. He charged at the exploding section of scarlet wall and ripped at the ancient crystals; smashing and disrupting the eons-old machinery, finally pulling free a large jagged shard in his hands.

“I fought by Captain America enough ta’ see how this works,” he shouted as he drew the gem back in an arch, gripping it like a discus, running forward and throwing. The crimson rock flew, spinning wildly across the vast chamber, finally to smash through more translucent stone; the gigantic gems holding the Elders of the Universe! Three prisons shattered with the impact and four more cracked before the spinning disk bounced away to skitter off the far edge of the platform and into oblivion. But it was enough…

Seven Elders burst free of their cells, gasping and trembling as their unique powers returned. Energies flowed blinding about the chamber now as Grimm ran forwards towards the freed ancient aliens. Even as he neared he saw more of the crystalline prisons exploding; his efforts starting a chain reaction which vibrated throughout the entire space. One-by-one the Elders of the Universe burst free of their containment.

“You’ve done it, Grimm,” Taneleer Tivan; the Collector groaned as he struggled to his feet, “the balance is being restored.” He turned to his closest brethren and En Dwi Gast nodded in agreement. The blue-skinned Grandmaster looked down the line of Elders stepping from their shattering prisons; the Gardener, the Contemplator, Glorian the Waverider and so many others. They seethed as they drew back their stolen energies, looking about in confusion as the Hulk continued to rage on the errant Watcher.

“Brothers and sisters,” the Collector called out, “we must pool our powers and resources now; our stolen energies and focus on this usurper, foil his schemes lest the universe we know, our very reality is wiped away!” Many of the befuddled ancients looked to Tivan and Ben saw their age-old powers crackling about them; Carina Korvac and the Runner, Champion, but others ever arrogant grumbled and simply vanished within sparks and swirling mists running back to their own realms and domains to hope to survive the approaching catastrophe. The birth of a new universe…

“I expected as much,” the Collector said as cosmic energy bubbled about his hands, crackling about his body. “We are ancient; Elders all, but in some ways many of us are still children. Those of us who have learned and grown over the eons however will fight at your side, Grimm. But you must make the final sacrifice. You know what you have to do!”

And Ben did know. Even as the remaining Elders of the Universe pooled their cosmic abilities and lashed out in unison at the Rogue Watcher, assaulting him and the Rampaging Hulk alike in devastating, destructive energies, Ben knew what needed to be done. He started to run…

“Fools,” Aron shouted even as the Hulk continued his relentless pounding of the Rogue Watcher’s protective shields I the midst of cascading force and energy, Ben could see him readying his scarlet chamber for what was to come. Crystal shards grew or shattered in a shower of sparks and glass, shifting into place; reforming the vast area into the Watcher’s vision of Reality- what he deigned it should be.

“I’ve seen this,” he shrieked as he blasted the Hulk away; only for a heartbeat as the beast shook his head and leaped back into the fray, uncaring of the immeasurable amounts of force exploding about the ancient alien. “I’ve seen it all! Despite my youth in the eyes of my peers, I am a Watcher! I am as old as any of you. But unlike you who while away your endless years in pursuits of fancy; unlike my doddering superiors who only want to witness life in all its majesty, I have Vision! I have seen the Chaos; galaxies colliding, stars exploding, billions of planets with races who grew and flourished then simply faded away…

“No more! Order has receded and the Creator no longer cares. But I do; I will restore balance with my Vision. I will create a new Golden Age where all will thrive under my guidance. I will break the Cosmic Egg and my Reality will be the new order for all.” And the Rogue Watcher started to glow crimson with his words as all his preparations fell into place.

“Liar!” It was Doctor Doom shouting now over the erupting forces, his machinery vibrating and glowing white-hot. “Only Doom knows the true vision. Only Doom can guide the universe to true glory. Your dreams are false, Watcher; as false as your words, and you.”

And even as the Rogue Watcher redirected his collected energies stolen from countless, failed dimensions, Doctor Doom swept the rays of his siphoning device across the chamber towards the Cosmic Egg. All the surging powers of the Elders followed suit, focusing on the thing that would alter all Reality. The Egg pulsed in the sudden onslaught; seeming to grow and shrink all at once as though it had a heartbeat; rhythmic and growing louder, heard throughout the cosmos.

“Damn you Doom,” Ben Grimm cursed as he forced himself forward into the cascading energy. He knew the Lord of Latveria had an ulterior motive; he always did- plans within plans. He knew in the back of his mind the Monarch would try to steal the power of the Egg for himself somehow, and now, with everything on the line, on the brink of being wiped away, he was making his move.

But the Thing charged onward. His legs were leaden jelly. Barely supporting his weight, not wanting to move as he took step after step. He focused on the Egg seemingly miles away now, perched on the edge of Oblivion, sparkling with radiance, pulsing with power, perfect in creation and fragile beyond belief.

CRACK!

Nothing else mattered. Doom and his machinations, the arrogant child of a Watcher in tantrum, the screams of the Elders as their Power Cosmic stripped away, the Hulk hammering mindlessly, the writhing scarlet crystalline chamber… Only the egg.

CRACK!

Ben Grimm fell to his knees, weak and exhausted. The Egg was right in front of him; inches away…miles. He could feel his own strength sucking out of him; the Cosmic Powers that had changed him into a freak… a monster so long ago were siphoning into the Cosmic Egg, drawing out his very being. His memories swirled in a whirlwind; his laughter and hatred spiraling out and away. He saw foes galore as he started to crawl, slow and methodic. He saw friends… family…

CRACK!

He saw Alicia…

“Grimm!”

“Do it!”

Everyone was shouting, the Hulk screaming his rage. He could barely hear them, ignored them as he raised his hands, reaching forward…

He saw Uatu then; a shadowy figure in the spiraling energies, watching.

Ben Grimm grit his teeth as he grabbed the floating egg; fire burning through his half-human hands, searing his flesh to the bone. He fought through the pain as he always did, always had, drawing on the last ebbs of his strength as the cracking egg seemed to writhe in his grip.

“No!” Aron screamed firing a final blast of power at him, ripping the flesh from his bones.

“Back…” Ben whispered with his last breath as he squeezed…

And the egg shattered!

Epilog One

Eric Arcane’s SoHo Townhouse

Manhattan

“Is it on yet?”

James Scully asked the same question coming back into the main living room again, carrying three cans of ice-cold beer in his fingers, trying not to stumble, sliding between the furniture as he looked to the many, flat television screens mounted on the wall. He shook his head remembering his first TV; a 25”, B&W Motorola that weighed about a thousand pounds and took up half his parent’s living room with the huge table it had to sit on so everyone could see. Things had certainly changed since then.

Now the television- televisions, Scully corrected himself- was totally NOT in the way. Jimmy Woo had really outdone himself this time.

After everyone, apparently everywhere watched Ben Grimm save Reality and the universe ‘BLINKED’, the group had been trying to find out just what had happened. Eric Arcane, their resident Mage of course started probing with his mystical mumbo-jumbo, staring into some weird orb he had and casting spells; each one aging him prematurely until he rested. John Jameson had started making phone calls contacting friends and family first- always the ‘Good Son’- then seeking out information from his contacts in the government, the Avengers, the media through his father, NASA…

Nothing.

As far as Scully could figure out, Ben had apparently had the opportunity to reset Reality in his vision when he crushed that queer, Cosmic Egg. But as far as anyone could tell, nothing had really changed. Well, little things maybe…

Scully felt somewhat… better. The old nicotine and alcohol cravings were gone- not that he felt the need to stop- and the alien belt that increased his strength, endurance and resistance no longer seemed to be wearing on him; taking a long-term toll on his health as it had in the past. It was like he was back in the beginning, so long ago without all the years of baggage he accumulated after falling into the Bermuda Triangle. It was strange, and the others mentioned that same feeling, but as far as any of them could tell, nothing major had changed.

Seattle was still being rebuilt after the Savage Hulk’s rampage months ago.

Manhattan, Kansas was still a radioactive wasteland for miles all around it after the Avengers’ failed attempt to stop a nuclear bomb.

Jimmy Woo was still Blacklisted from S.H.I.E.L.D. and the government.

Eric Arcane’s lover was still dead; everyone was as far as Scully knew.

Nothing had changed…

But something had; Scully could feel it, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

“Not yet,” John Jameson replied and Scully blinked, stopping short. Day dreaming again, old man he thought as he put on his usual gruff façade once more. He groused as he stepped up handing out the beers.

“Just once I wish they’d just get to it.” He flopped into his recliner as everyone who was drinking popped the top pull-tabs of their beer cans and sucked at the foam. “What’s this then,” he asked leaning back and putting up the foot rest.

“It’s the band and cheerleaders from Eugene, Oregon,” Arcane answered taking a real sip of beer, “Go Ducks!” Scully shook his head.

“Jeez,” he said guzzling long from his can with a belch, “it may as well be the Macy’s Day Parade. Get on with it already.” He returned his attention to the array of television screens. Jimmy Woo had really outdone himself on the home entertainment system.

When the ex- S.H.I.E.L.D. agent learned that there seemed to be no new leads to follow and the media had announced the celebration for the Thing he had taken it upon himself to keep busy. He had mounted twenty-four flat screen TV’s of varying size about the far walls; all linked to display one large picture in the far corner, curving for a seemless image. And, if that wasn’t enough, he had upgraded their sound system with all the latest gear. Everything was plugged into some strange box- Scully had no idea as technology had passed him by. There were smaller speakers mounted high on the walls and what Woo called ‘Tower Speakers’ in every corner of the large room. The volume was high but modulated and blending perfectly, echoing from everywhere. It was like being in a movie theater when they drew the curtains; Surround Sound all the way. All they needed was seat vibrators like they had back in the 70’s.

“Any new Intel there, Jimmy?” Scully asked sparking a cigarette. Jameson scowled, wrinkling his nose at the smoke and smell. With three smokers in the house, he was never happy as it bothered his Man-Wolf enhanced senses. Tough, Johnny, Scully thought; Eric’s house- his rules. Suck it up.

“Nothing,” Jimmy Woo said blowing smoke towards the ceiling and watching the television with disinterest. “S.H.I.E.L.D. reports nothing new, nor does the NSA, US Treasury, MI-5 or 6, no one.

“There is still pandemic spreading through Africa along with famine, drought and war. Unrest in South America, the usual economic and political debate in the United States,” he smirked, “the airlines are still delayed as always.

“There have been no recent Hulk sightings anywhere. Whatever happened to him after the event, he is either gone or hiding. And though Doom announced he was back in Latveria, he has been tending to affairs of the state; no outward moves concerning anything. I’m certain of course; he’s doing his own research. He is Doom after all.

“And the Rogue Watcher, the Elders of the Universe; all seem to have vanished. It seems bizarre, but then, I’ve never been comfortable with magic or cosmic events; too many variables and unknowns unexplained.” Jimmy Woo chained another cigarette to life, looking to the Mage.

“I haven’t found anything,” Arcane added with a sigh. “I tried contacting Strange, but he’s still being a prick. He doesn’t like me.” He shrugged.

“Oh, well,” Scully said puffing on his cigarette.

“Oh, Misty Knight called earlier. She and Colleen Wing wanted to send their best regards to Ben. They’re apparently in London on a case with Daniel Rand, the Iron-Fist and can’t be here, but they’re watching. Hobie Brown, the Prowler too; he’s in the crowd somewhere.

“Hold on,” Jameson spoke up pointing the remote at the Bose; increasing the volume. “Here we go…”

The music blared as the outer doors of the rechristened Baxter Building opened and the Thing stepped out onto the stage accompanied by Susan Richards, the Invisible Woman and her children protégée. There was a cheer from the crowd as they all went to their assigned places.

Scully and his comrades settled in to watch…

Epilog Two

Four Freedoms Plaza

Manhattan

“Are you ready, Ben?”

Ben Grimm, the Thing sighed as he looked at Susan Richards riding down in the private elevator to the lobby alongside him. She smiled hopefully as she looked up at him, trying to judge his health and mood he knew. Her son, his ‘nephew’ Franklin stood on her far side glancing up from his phone with little Valeria, his ‘niece’ always at his side. They’d grown, he thought as he rolled the bit of his thick cigar to the corner of his mouth, blowing smoke. Valeria wrinkled her nose.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Ben sighed again looking at the lights flashing as they passed down through the many floors of the building. “You know I hate things like this.” Sue smirked.

“The people need it Ben,” she said, “and so do you, I think. We all do.” She took Valeria’s hand and motioned for Frank to put down the phone. They were almost at the lobby. The boy rolled his eyes with an exasperated huff but complied. Susan shook her head and reached out, pressing the button to pause the elevator.

“It’s been horrible ever since the Frightful Four and the Puppet Master attacked and mind-controlled you; turned you evil and against us. All the things you endured then; Debbie sending you back through time, Attacking S.H.I.E.L.D., going to other realities because of the Scarlet Centurion who turned out to be Aron the Rogue Watcher,” she shook her head, “so much…

“You faced incredible odds throughout a long, horrible ordeal and you fought on like you always do through all of it. You told us last night some of the things that happened, but I know there was much more; something private you kept inside. You’ll share it when you want to, I know, but whatever it was you overcame it.

“And there at the end, against some of the most powerful beings in the cosmos, you kept fighting to the end. And you won; everyone saw it, watched it. Everyone everywhere saw you and Doom and the Hulk and Aron. It got blurry there at the very end, but we all saw you at that egg about to crush it before everything went black, and you did.

“You saved us; saved us all from whatever that Watcher had planned, and Doom. And now the people; the world, all the races of the entire universe want to thank you. You deserve this, Benjamin.” Susan reached out and pressed the button to get the elevator moving again. Ben felt the car lurch, continuing its swift downward plunge.

“So suck it up, big guy, and smile for the cameras. It’s almost over.” Susan stepped up on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek, wrapping her arm in his as the elevator car softly stopped.

The door opened. Ben Grimm gasped at the sight.

Thousands of people were packed into the plaza of Four Freedoms Tower; hundreds of thousands more lining the surrounding streets for as far as he could see in every direction. They were pressing the Plaza all trying to move closer to get a better view; climbing lamp posts, standing on mailboxes, farther away atop parked cars and vans, all trying to see. They were hanging out windows waving banners and lining the rooftops holding up signs; hundreds of signs everywhere:

GO THING!

FF 4-EVER!!

YANCY STREET GANG RULES!

We ♥ THING!!!

WELCOME BACK!

And there were police throughout; intermingled in the crowd and closer to the Plaza forming a cordon around the immediate area ringed with the marked blue saw-horses of the NYPD, along with waist-high stone barricades, huge, heavy planters, garbage dumpsters and dozens of city vans and semi-trucks. There were police dressed in full tactical gear; both S.W.A.T. and Riot all seemingly loaded for bear with their weapons ready but slung. There were National Guard and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. all over; around and on the stage, in the crowd by the dozens. Probably more he couldn’t spot, in disguise and incognito. There was more security than he could count, and of course, the media.

Ben saw dozens of news vans scattered about the perimeter, all plugged into mobile generators with fat cables for the best feed and power, dotted with dish antennae pointed to the heavens. All the big television stations were there, both local and national along with the smaller outlets he’d heard of; radio, internet and cable, international stations from the world over. Even the newspapers were represented. He saw Peter Parker of the Daily Bugle for a split second, camera in hand giving him a smile and quick salute before he was swept back into the crowd.

It was unreal, Ben thought as he chomped down on his cigar trying to screw up his courage, overwhelming. It was crazy. He’d faced down Terrax. He’d gone toe-to-toe with the Silver Surfer, Doctor Doom, Thanos, and Galactus without a thought, but this was making him shiver. Was this fear?

“It’ll be fine, Ben.”

He felt Susan Richards hug his arm tighter, giving it a pat. When he looked to her she was smiling up at him, giving him strength and love. “You’ll do fine. Now let’s go. All your friends are waiting.”

Ben Grimm took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Then he did something he hadn’t done since he was just a snot-nosed kid runnin’ the streets of Hell’s Kitchen rumbling with the Yancy Street Gang every Saturday Night; He prayed…

“I don’t ask for much from you, God, but please don’t let me fuck this up.”

He heard music coming from somewhere out of sight as Ben bit down on his cigar and let Sue lead him slowly out towards the makeshift stage they had erected for the occasion. It was huge and littered with cameras all around, technicians running about checking connections, views and sound. So much tech and machinery all pointed and positioned towards a large podium at center stage overloaded with microphones and small lights. He saw long, large bleachers set up all around the Plaza seating dignitaries from the city, state, country and the world; the Mayor, Governors, Prime Ministers, Kings and Queens sitting alongside celebrities from stage and screen. So many faces he knew and so many more he had no idea. He took another step, another breath.

He felt a little better as he focused on the stage trying to ignore the surrounding circus. Debra Bernard- the Richard’s Nanny- dressed in a stylish dark blue dress emblazoned with the Fantastic Four’s logo and heels came rushing up to meet them, taking Franklin and Valeria by the hand to lead them to their seats. She looked up with a weak smile and said something though he could barely hear over the raucous the crowd was now making: “I’m sorry…”

Ben smiled and her own smile widened in return, relieved. She had sent him back in time via Doc Doom’s Time Platform in desperation when he had been mind-controlled. He had been out of control in a rage and after her and the kids. The ex-S.H.I.EL.D. Agent was just doing her job; trying to protect his niece and nephew with her very life. There was nothing to forgive.

Debra led the kids to their places and sat next to her husband, Jon, Ben thought- he’d met the man once long ago. Handsome and somewhat bald with a well-trimmed beard, muscular in his tailored suit and smiling pleasantly. He was seated next to Clint Barton representing the Mighty Avengers, looking uncomfortable in his three-piece lavender suit, tugging at his shirt collar. Maria Hill of S.H.I.EL.D. was on his right with Melissa Gold seated next to her. He noted they all had cases and valises set beside them on the floor; their weapons no doubt, just in case of trouble, which Ben hoped would not come. Not today, please.

Sue led him forward, the noise almost deafening as the crowd got louder and louder with their cheers. Finally his old, dear friend released his arm with a final reassuring smile. She said, “Good luck,” before letting go to step beside Reed Richards standing nearby, joining in on the applause. His oldest friend beamed, almost gushing- a rare sight for the usually stoic leader of the Fantastic Four. He nodded approvingly before he and Sue took their seats next to Johnny Storm and Jennifer Walters; the Human Torch and the Sensational She-Hulk, the eighth member of the Fantastic Four and a dear friend and member of the family. She whooped and applauded along with the grinning Johnny who winked and gave him a thumb’s up. Wyatt Wingfoot was there on stage as well on the She-Hulk’s left; a pleasant, reassuring surprise. There were three empty seats too; he assumed for Medusa, Luke Cage and Frankie Raye- all once members of the team and extended family. Almost everyone he knew and loved seemed to be in attendance.

Everyone except…

“Ben.”

Ben Grimm turned at the sound of the familiar voice. He calmed then and his confidence grew as his heart melted as it always did when he saw her. Alicia Masters stood there not far from the podium, looking resplendent and beautiful in a long, simple gown of light blue awaiting him. The roar of the crowd softened in his mind, dimming to a murmur and hazy in the distance, forgotten as he veered towards the woman he had loved for so long.

He towered over her, reaching out to touch her arms tenderly. She looked up with love as he caressed her arms. She reached up, touching his face lightly; remembering his rocky features, her blind eyes full of tears and seeing far more than anyone. More than he could imagine, looking into his very soul.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered yet he heard her; only her caressing his craggy chest. Her hands flowed along his body, her arms wrapping about him in tight embrace.

“I love you.”

There were words; so many things he wanted to say but they all caught in his throat. He could not speak and simply, gently hugged her close. The silence was deafening as he held her, all the pomp and occasion forgotten. He had returned to the woman he loved. Everything he had done; it was all for her. He knew that now as he leaned down and kissed her deeply. She returned that kiss with interest as the noise in the background started to return and grow. It lasted forever; a moment he hoped would never end.

“You have to go, Ben,” Alicia whispered with a final squeeze, “they’re waiting.”

“I love you,” he finally choked out as they reluctantly broke their embrace. She wiped her eyes as he turned; a final, long look as he took the last steps up to the reinforced podium. It was laden with microphones and piled high with papers. He saw the scribbled words he had written late the night before on a crumpled sheet of notebook paper on top. Beneath that one sheet were many more; a formal speech of several pages someone had typed up he was supposed to read, a map of stage directions with instructions indicating the many cameras pointed at him, and a yellow Post-It Note poking out amidst the thick stack. He tugged that free and read it.

Go get ‘em, Rockhead!

Benjamin J. Grimm, the Ever-Lovin’, Blue-Eyed Thing choked up again, eyes tearing as he gripped the edges of the podium. Johnny Storm’s words echoed in his brain drowning out the speeches now gone and forgotten. He cleared his throat, trying to find his voice, looking up at the gathered crowd; thousands upon thousands gathered to honor him, praise him, thank him, waiting silently for him to speak.

He took the spent butt of his cigar from his mouth and set it on the podium. He swallowed a lump in his throat and leaned into the microphones…

“I’m back,” he said simply and to the point.

And the crowd exploded…

Epilog Three

Castle Doom

Doomstadt

Latveria

“Continue…”

“Grain and produce stores remain abundant, meat and poultry down .08 % due to a small anthrax outbreak in the third quarter.”

“It’s been contained?”

“Obliterated; losing 27 % overall stock, with 47.6 % expansion predicted over the first and second quarter.” The robot paused in his report, staring straight ahead as though thinking. “Machinery exports remain stable despite new, increasing embargoes imposed by the European Union and the United States, NATO allies and disassociated nations.”

“Yes, yes,” the man replied dabbing a slice of dry white toast into his cooling, runny eggs, “and everything has been sent to Finance, Production and Enzo, of course.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, Master.”

“Then proceed to the remaining requested searches,” the monarch ordered, “I’ll look over the figures later after Enzo collates the information.” The Doom-Bot cycled through its memory banks again, awaiting the programs to process.

“There have been no reported detections of the Elders of the Universe or Watchers since the incursion broadcast in the Crystalline Dimension… Strange is still cloistered in seclusion… the Avengers and affiliates remain in disarray while the Mutants have gone into hiding. The Defenders…”

“Anything worth noting offensively,” the man demanded taking a sip of tea. He touched a button on the console next to his ornate chair, bringing up a new scene on the largest monitor of the many playing in his breakfast nook.

“No, Master, all are passive.” The robot did not move showing no emotion and standing silent awaiting instruction.

The Lord of Latveria plucked the final strip of crispy bacon from his plate then glanced at the servant standing silently in the shadows. Immediately the serving wench hurried forward with a metal cart and started to clear away the breakfast dishes before leaving the room without a word. The man ignored her and the robot for that moment, watching the large screen WorldNet monitor.

He allowed himself the slightest smirk, more a sneer because of the remaining damage of his scarred face. On the main screen the cameras were highlighting Ben Grimm, the grotesque mockery known better as the Thing standing uncomfortably at a podium trying to give a speech to the huge, mewling crowd. The monarch’s gave quickly flicked towards the dozens of smaller screens mounted about the large, elaborately decorated room instantly taking in all the news feeds. There was nothing worth his note. The world, even the entire universe seemed abnormally calm; stalled for the moment. The man mused.

“End verbal report, Doom-Bot P-1. Continue processing and analysis and forward findings to all proper divisions. Continue all surveillance and report any deviations for my secretary’s attention. Depart and carry out programming protocols.”

The bulky, lavender-shaded robot said no more as it departed the room, its new orders in place. The man ignored it as it exited returning his attention to the main view screen.

The gala event presented on several monitors actually was all for the masses; all for show. Grimm was being presented as a hero for saving Reality in its entirety. The fools…

If they only knew.

As always the monarch was labeled a villain; his own overwhelming contributions ignored and dismissed. The gamma-spawned Hulk received no better acclaim, but then he was simply a tool in the final battle; a chess piece for the Lord of Latveria’s ultimate machinations. It did not matter in the end; one goal was achieved.

Aron the upstart Watcher was removed from the equation. The universe was in order again, no matter the slight changes brought about by the Thing’s abrupt intervention in the overall scheme. The man leaned back in his chair crossing his legs, glad to be free from the encumbrance of his armor for a brief respite; secure in the highest tower of his castle, fortified against intrusion.

“Enjoy your moment of triumph, Grimm,” the man said flicking off many of the smaller monitors to watch the main festivities, “enjoy your fame and fleeting prestige. It will be short-lived after all. You remain a monstrosity, and soon the tide will turn against you and your ilk as it always does. History repeats itself; always remember.

“Doom will return…”

Epilog Four

Four Freedoms Plaza

Manhattan

Willie Lumpkin smiled widely, applauding as loudly as anyone in the gathered crowd of thousands surrounding Four Freedom’s Plaza as Ben Grimm spoke. The Thing was uncomfortable at the podium being the center of so much attention, he could tell. His speech was rambling at times; unrehearsed and getting off track, but the man was speaking from the heart and every word seemed laced with emotion. Willie felt that, and he was certain the rest of the multitude did as well.

And he was glad.

Over the years both as a mailman for the United States Postal Service and as simply another New Yorker he had attended many similar celebrations. He had heard countless speeches from past mayors and presidents, celebrities of all sort and more visiting ambassadors and heads of state than he could recall. He had been to New York’s, Canyon of Heroes downtown seeing celebrations in a cascade of ticker-tape for those who made significant achievements, heads of state, returning veterans and sport champions from the New York area or national teams. He had cheered for JFK and John Glenn, and years later for Neil Armstrong and the rest of the crew of Apollo 11, the first men on the moon. He had seen Queen Elizabeth II and Pope John Paul II. He saw heroes, both Marvels and returning Veterans who deserved due acclaim and so many First Responders after so many travesties, calamities and threats. Heroes all…

But none to compare to this; Ben Grimm had saved life, the universe and everything. And he always had, even before that fateful day so long ago when four people flew into space on a prototype rocket and were saturated with cosmic rays which imbued them with fantastic abilities. Reed Richards, Susan Richards, her brother Johnny Storm and later Madame Medusa, Luke Cage: Powerman, the Sensational She-Hulk; they all fought the good fight. But none like Benjamin J. Grimm.

“Well, you were right.”

Willie Lumpkin started, pulled from his memories and turning towards the familiar voice. His daughter, Billie stood beside him, smiling and applauding lightly. “I said you were right.”

“About what,” he asked. It was a rare thing for his daughter to admit. Billie grinned at him, shook her head and shrugged.

“It’s all about family,” she said trying to be heard over the crowd, “you don’t get to pick ‘em but you gotta stand by ‘em and we should trust that they’re doing the right thing. I sure don’t understand why, but I’m glad he did.” Willie had to laugh and pointed at someone in the crowd nearby.

“You see that?”

Billie Lumpkin looked and saw a little boy smiling ear-to-ear clutching a Thing action figure to his chest. She looked back to her father, questioning.

“That’s why he does it,” Willie explained wiping at a stray tear, “for that little boy and all of us. And he always will.

“That’s why Benjamin J. Grimm, the ever-lovin’, blue-eyed Thing will always be…

“A HERO.”

AFTERWORD:

Well, there it is…

It’s been a long journey getting to this final point; the last issue of MY run on the Thing (at least for now). Frankly I don’t recall my first inspiration, other than it all started a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away; that galaxy being MV-1…

I wanted to write Star Wars Fanfiction back then, but the Google Lady- who knows everything- gave me suggestions for Marvel comic book Fanfic, and top of the list back in the early 2000’s was MV-1. There I read a lot of stories by like-minded people and got the urge to join in; one story to contribute to one of their Anthology titles. That story was ‘The Gift’; my first Fantastic Four story. It involved Prince Namor, the Sub-Mariner, visiting the Surface World and New York City to visit the Richard’s Clan and deliver a special gift to their newborn baby. The obligatory comic book fights ensued, of course, as Johnny Storm and Ben Grimm questioned his true motives. It all worked out in the end though, and the story got some praise; most especially from Russ Anderson who suggested I focus my writing at a website called, JLU: 2001. I did and we were off to the races.

As I got more involved with JLU, I also wrote for many other great Fanfic websites, one of which was Marvel: Omega. There, starting way back in 2004, I started my run on Fantastic Four. That run lasted 19 issues and it was damn fun. I got to play in Omega’s huge pond with so many characters I’d loved and grown up with since the 60’s. And I got to write alongside and with some other esteemed writers in our group; cross-overs with the Avengers and the New Warriors, and Dino Pollard and Derrick Ferguson just to name a couple. Great stuff!

In there somewhere the idea hit me for a longer Thing run. That included a four-issue mini-Series in Marvel Two-In-One, which led back to the Fantastic Four and eventually with Ben Grimm starring in his own title: The Thing!

It’s been almost twenty years since this all started- my Thing epic- but now it’s done and I hope everyone enjoyed it. I’d like to take a moment and thank so many people- all the writers at Marvel: OMEGA who helped out with cross-overs, letting me borrow their DIBS and contributed so much to my stories with help and inspiration, all the editors, web-folk and producers; all the backstage crew at OMEGA- great folk and friends for so long. I’d also like to thank especially Dino Pollard who first started Marvel: OMEGA and Ed Ainsworth who took up the reins and has kept the site running all these years. I’d like to thank all the people at Marvel Comics for creating all these fabulous characters I’ve loved for decades like Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, Roy Thomas, Jim Steranko, Ron Wilson (who I was honored to meet once), and too many others to list.

And finally I’d like to thank you, the FANS who’ve followed my work and the adventures of the Thing for all these years. I couldn’t have done it without you; Keepers of the Flame all…

And the Thing may be on sabbatical, at least for a while, but I’m still here. Look for me in the Mighty Avengers and Skull the Slayer elsewhere here at OMEGA and maybe some other things as the Muse dictates further down the line. Thanks again and as always:

Read, Write, Review and Enjoy…

Curt F.

03/02/2023

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