Thus it all began with a Question. What is your favorite kind of Hero? Destiny rewritten, the boy shall join the ranks of the X-men Omega Mutants while hell, heaven and the great cosmos vie for his true lineage... And his blood. Watch as he begins his journey to either be the Mightiest Hero or the most reviled slaughterer. This will surely be one to watch.
Omega Spawn Archetype (Spawn/Marvel)
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Choose your Own Adventure... Excelsior!
Earth-616
"Hey, pass the ball…!"
"Here!"
"Mark, fall back! They're trying to draw you in!"
"Ugh! Change of tactics! Let's bring out our secret weapon!"
It was a pleasant sunny day.
The afternoon sun in all its glory was still sparely obstructed by the clouds, and even so, there were still enough gaps that revealed the blue painting of the unique rich blue firmaments. As a result, it makes today the perfect day especially for the little kids who were on their summer vacations to come out and frolic around in the community park.
"Nice one, Sheeran! Hidden weapon or not, you aren't gonna' get pass our deffy."
The leafs on the branches were still lush green, proving that the vitality held within the numerous trees littered around the central park were still there. It painted a sparse forest, one with enough space that when looked closer, still contains a mystical elements that draws you in…
"Hey guys, time out! I'm feeling thirsty. I'm going to get something to drink from my mom."
"Alright… But when you're coming back, bring me lemon juice."
"Sweet tooth."
The community's park was particularly teeming on days like this. Lovers and families coming for a lovely day out. Bachelors and spinsters sprinkled around, hoping to become that lucky person as they exit the park. Even loners and tourists could be scantily spotted around, sitting at some park benches or under tree shades, just enjoying the beautiful scenery their present location presented…
But surely there must always be an odd one out….
The 10 year old African-American sat gloomily on the swing, watching the panorama with dull eyes. Dressed in yellow sleeve shirt and shorts of a darker tinge. It was expected by his folks back at home that he was supposed to dirty his present wear by enjoying himself.
'Be with your friends,' They said. 'Childhood always happens once in a life time,' They said.
Bah!
For the little boy, all their sayings would have been correct… If he strangely wasn't the only Black kid in the community.
It has been speculated around the world, that your method of upbringing could either make you or break you. It could either hasten your growth or slow it down.
Just look all the young superhuman kids for example.
The boy would like to believe that it helped him grow. If it weren't for the fact that his dad refused to let him to carry his books, then he would have been sitting under a shade far from this racket reading comfortably. Or, better yet. He would have been napping, although, the numbers around here makes would have made it hard to do so.
"As if the Red Skull isn't enough." The 10 years old muttered dryly to himself.
Both his feet pushed against the pasture giving the child momentum to swing himself like a pendulum. Sighing, he wondered why he was even doing this, before the answer then came to him.
His dad is a police man assigned to this neighborhood. And for all the police were purported to be a fair legal establishment, there were still racial nuances and prejudices back at the station that made his dad dead tired at most times. So the boy didn't want to ruin his father's free day.
Absentmindedly staring at an orange butterfly that flapped pass him. The boy wondered, for all talks of USA being free, was it truly that. FREE…
Like for examples, the Mutants. A specific group of people with a little something in their blood system that either changes their forms horribly or grants them superpowers. But instead of the world to help them acclimate back into the society with their new changes, they crease their face in disgust calling them freaks, progenies birthed by the devils.
Mobs chase them down and kill them…
Their parents disown them, chasing them from what was once their homes…
Giant robots fly around, looking to capture them like they weren't like the next man or woman just some seconds ago…
How stupid…
Is it truly a surprise that most of the Mutants would resort to villainy?
Dad always says that, people shouldn't blame the world for the actions they take as they are the masters of themselves. But what if it was the world who presented it to those people as the only option?
"Quite the line of thought coming from a little child that ought to be playing with the others on this beautiful day."
The boy shivered as cold sweat covered his back. Just at his side, an old man with pure white hair wearing a simple brown jacket, a white-collared inner and black slacks sat by his side. Dark obscuring glasses hid the old man's eyes, but the boy could have sworn the man's eyes had a subtle cherry twinkle.
"Indeed they do, son."
'There it is again.' The boy shivered.
How is the man doing that? Reading his mind like that. Is he some kind of Mutant telepath? Magician, Alien, maybe even a God or a higher entity. Fear took hold of the 10 year old as he wondered what he had done to warrant such a visit.
The strange old man scratched the side of his head, before turning to the crowd and then emulated the young boy's swinging.
"Those are some fanciful names you got there, kid. Well, I've been called many things by many people. But I would prefer calling myself, Stan Lee. But you kid can call me, Mr. Lee."
The boy dumbly nodded to which the old man chuckled.
"So kid, what's yours?"
"Abram…" The boy replied, as he strangely felt calm around the man. "Adams."
"So Abram, eh. What are you doing here all by yourself under this wonderful weather rather playing with your age-mates?"
It was then, Abram resumed back to gazing at the scenery. The boys who had just taken a short break had resumed back, playing football with full throttle.
"As you can see, apparently because I'm black, I'm neither invited nor welcomed." Abram replied back with his voice becoming a little snarky.
"Because of your skin color, eh?" The stranger hummed. "How unoriginal. Well, it isn't that much of a surprise. No matter how far the world has progressed, there will still be a primal instinct in men to group together against something different in their midst. You can be sure that the same thing would happen, even if you were a white kid in a black neighborhood."
"Yeah I know that." But then the boy smiled. "Although, it does make me feel like those X-men folks?"
Mr. Lee huffed in amusement. "… Just like the X-men."
The swinging duo were quiet for some seconds, Abram feeling quiet strange and giddy? As he sucked in a deep breath. The summer air suffused in delicious food from all flats and outdoor barbecue were making him to feel quiet hungry.
"Up we go."
The African-American turned to see Mr. Lee stand up dusting his pants.
"Hey kid. How about we go grab a hamburger and something to drink?"
Abram tilted his head. "But I don't have any money."
The stranger brought his glasses down revealing a blue eye that winked at the child. "Don't worry about that, I still got some spare change left on me."
Suddenly feeling an urge to smile, Abram gave a large swing as he hopped down bopping his head. "Well, thanks!"
…..
"So kid, how do you feel about comics?"
They had already changed their location to a park bench at a higher ground that provided a wonderful view of the scenery…
"Comics…" Abram took another bite of his hamburger, using his sleeve to clean his lips before he immediately replied. "I love them."
"Hmm~" Mr. Lee smiled as he rested an arm on the rest, crossing his leg as he regarded the child. "And, what do you love about them."
Now feeling a little bit self-conscious, Abram bashfully rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I really don't have a complicated answer, except that it's just fun. To be someone, to go one a mystical journey, fight the bad guys, save the day… Comics gives me this adrenaline feeling that the real world can't provide safely."
Incursions from aliens, invasions from hell-spots. From ordinary super-villains to all-powerful titans set on destroying or conquering the Planet. Adams Abram had never been so thankful that he lives in a small unknown town far away from the big fights. With his dad being a policeman and all, would mean absolutely nothing in the face of Gods and Superhumans.
He would only be the initial casualty, his life taken from him in the line of duty…
Even so, it doesn't mean that he hates superhumans. Rather he likes them, or to be more precise, the adventure of what being 'Them' would present. Alien worlds, dimensions, realities. That and many more comes with the perk of being one of 'Them.'
So yes, through that colored piece of paper, Abram likes to soak himself into the life of a Super-Hero and adventure every once in a while.
If the boy was expecting Mr. Lee to feel disappointed in his reply, then he was so very wrong.
"100%, A, excellent! That is what I like to hear! You see, Abram. Comics for me are like a window opportunity presented to the common folks. Not as an avenue of power play, but rather as a form imaginative interaction. To feel what the characters feel, laugh when they laugh and cry when they cry… You, Abram have made me a happy man."
Mr. Lee sighed sitting up, gazing straight forward as if he was looking at a fond image.
"You see kid. I'm heading somewhere far away. Where I don't know? But where I'm going… I'm never coming back."
A wave of sadness filled the 10 year old, as he shook uncomfortably. As one without friends, while strange, it wasn't a surprise that Mr. Lee was suddenly growing on the young child. Even though Mr. Lee might be somewhat peculiar…
"Are-Are you, dying?"
"Dying…? No-no, rather I'm heading for another big adventure. You see, I have friends waiting for me over there, and I'm already due for that place after all." Seeing the child's despondent look, shook the old man's heart. So with a smile filled with age, and most important of all, 'Satisfaction,' Mr. Lee continued.
"Come on, it's no big deal. And also, before I go, I've decided to create a little something for this world, a last 'Legacy' of sorts. I'm somewhat of a 'Comic Artist' after all."
"A mutant, a god, an alien or a cosmic entity. Which one do you like among all the ones I mentioned?"
Abram blinked at the sudden question being thrown at him. The child was about to question why Mr. Lee was asking such kind of question until he noticed that the man appeared quite serious.
Upon seeing that, he took one last bite gulping down the remaining burger, flushing down it with his drink. Clearing his throat, Abram ruminated aloud.
"Mutants, like the X-men. Gods as in Thor and Hercules. Aliens like that purple man that calls himself, The Gladiator, or Cosmic Entity… Like Galactus? Hmm…" The boy closed his eyes making a show of swaying his head in contemplation.
"I say… Mutants."
Mr. Lee's eyes shot up. "Why not the others? From what I've been seeing, being a Mutant is more of a lottery. If you are lucky, you become powerful, if not, then your power becomes what literally kills you."
Abrams nodded in affirmation. Mr. Lee was right about that. From those propagandas presented on TV shows –especially those FOHs- they always show Mutants as one big inhuman shaped monsters. But the boy knew that most of them didn't even want to be that.
Some Mutants like the terrorist Magneto get to be powerful, while some others get to look like monsters. It was always a matter of luck…
But even so…
"I still prefer Mutants over the others, simply because I am rooting for them and no matter what all the others say about them, they are still the same as us, humans in the end."
Correspondingly, when he sees ordinary 'Gifted' humans standing alongside super-powered gods, cosmic beings and aliens. It subtly fills him with pride, that yes, even the people of Earth got what it takes to stand on its own in this wide and alarmingly dangerous universe.
Mr. Lee stared in intently at the boy, before shaking his head. "You really know how to keep this old-bones amazed, kid. Mutant, huh, got it. Now, how about the main question I've been meaning to ask. Tell me ' Three' of your favorite Superhumans."
"Three?" Abrams echoed before giving a light chuckle.
That was quite funny because, if Mr. Lee had asked him the number of his favorite superhumans, then the African-American would have said that exact number.
Three…
"Blue Marvel, Sentry… And Spawn."
"Spawn?" The old man echoed, feigning a show of being confused.
Fortunately the boy didn't get Mr. Lee undercurrent tone as Abrams bashfully laughed. "He's a comic book character, my favorite character. I like his cool costume, his powers and most of all, even though everyone is always calling him the bad guy, he's more of an anti-hero who uses his rather evil powers for good. Kind of like the X-men and the Hulk."
"Heh~" Mr. Lee looked up to see the sun approaching its midpoint. "Spawn, huh. With Sentry and Blue Marvel, although I can see why you picked those two. The yellow Guardian with cool powers, while the other is a man who by all right should have hated the world, but still decides to be the better man."
The boy nodded. "Right on the dot, Mr. Lee."
Resting both his elbows on his laps, Mr. Lee steeple his hands together with his face taking on a look of utmost concentration. "Mutant. Sentry, Blue Marvel and Spawn. Quite the bar I got this time, how fun. So how am I to mash them all together?"
…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…
In a certain dimension. An Omnipotent being closed his eyes, as he sat before a plain piece of paper, pencil in hand, with cleaners and rulers by the ready…
He, who drew an infinite adventurous narratives in the House of Ideas is once again, ready to begin his next, and final tale.
With a snap, TOOA's eyes cranked open as a jolly smile creased his lips. With a bubbling emotion that could never be contained.
TOOA for the last time drew with all his heart… Like he always did.
…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…
"Hahahahahahaha, I got it!" The old man whooped in childlike wonder. "From magic to science, from the supernatural to all scientific wonders… I can see it now, and it'll be so cool."
Facing the utterly bemused Abram Adams, Mr. Lee's wild smile turned soft. His hand went into a pocket in his jacket and from it produced out a necklace. It had a dull golden sheen that suggested its mineral authenticity, but the 10 year old couldn't be so sure. It also had a thin crisscross like chain work while at the center was a ruby like cross.
"Here, I want you to take this."
Hesitantly, Abram took the cross off the man's hands observing it in curiosity. "It's beautiful." But the boy still couldn't help but ask. "But why are you giving me this?"
"Hmm~" The old man shrugged. "That's for the future you to find out."
Ruffling the boy's head, Mr. Lee shoved his hands into his pocket. He would have loved to say more, but unfortunately, it is finally time to get going…
"Kid, I want you to remember as you go forward, that life would not always be easy for you. It doesn't matter if you are a hero, a villain or even a normal civilian. I won't say, with great power comes with great responsibilities' but always remember. 'Live life to the fullest,' and… Excelsior!"
"?" The boy tilted his head at the last word, "Excelsior?"
But at the next blink of the child's eyes… Mr. Lee was gone. Turning around, Abram furtively cast his gaze left and right trying to spot where the old man had left… In the end, the African-American would later go home thinking what had just happened was all a dream.
Meanwhile around his neck, the ruby like gem glowed…
It was a place of free of ideas… A %$ of pure blankness, free from the colors of creations. A space that will never be known to anyone else… Except the lone old man who trekked across the space that had no such thing as distance. But in that moment, he granted it such a concept…
"Humm~!" Stretching his hands while groaning, Stan Lee smiled with a look of accomplishment. "Whew~ that really took a lot out from me than I imagined. Although, it seems like I did made him tad bit too powerful… Eh~ well the world can surely handle him."
His nonchalant tone was a sign of an unbreakable trust, he had in a cosmos that has and will always face an uncountable number of tribulations and still thrive in the end.
"Abram Adams, huh… Or should I be calling him, the Divine Spawn." The man who could be described as another facet of 'The One Above All' smiled.
It was on a whim, a little stroll he took at an unassuming park, where he saw the little kid looking on forlornly… Oh, the creator could smell the adventure aromatizing out from an Omni-verse away. He couldn't help but give in.
"I'll be seeing from the other-side, the kind of changes you'll be making in around here. Although, I know it wouldn't be a small one."
His sudden musing was cut off, as just besides Stan Lee, a young maiden like voice called to him. "Oh, dear. It seems like the wonders of the world has cut you off once again."
It carried such a familiarity that his eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful maiden that stood beside him. "Joan…"
His mouth opened in mute shock, before his apparently younger wife chuckled pulling him along. "Honey. You've got to tell me of all the wonder things I have been missing."
"Everything." The young man who had once and shall always be called 'The True Loving Father' replied, as he strengthened his hold around his wife's hand.
"Only this time, I'm never letting go. Let's go see it all together."
"Excelsior and beyond…"
"… … …" A trail of tear passed through his eyes as they both entered cavity in the blank space, heading for the unknown. "Excelsior and beyond."
…-…-…-…-…-…-…-...
It was felt throughout the cosmos. It couldn't be described, neither was there any explanation… From every being, thing and concept that possess a modicum of thought felt a trail of something slid down their cheeks.
And when asked, this was their strange report.
Something wonderful has just left on a journey of no return.
The Living Tribunal bowed to an empty seemingly Throne. It was his only way of showing respect to his creator, the one who granted him life and purpose. But The Living Tribunal knew the emptiness of the True Omnipotent Seat of Power wouldn't be there for long…
He is coming…
Earth-616
The falling snow, coupled with the thrumming carols that echoed all around, resonated with the eminent season of cheerful giving. There was a jolly atmosphere in town…
The streets were lit up with multi-colored lights from the roofs of houses nearby. Occasionally, snowmen could be spotted around, some with carrots serving as their noses while the others had only had a scarf around their invisible necks. It was only two days to the most famous day of the year…
As such, it was the norm that holidays were expected to be taken by most companies, industries or institutions -except the Black Companies, of course- But even though it was just 5 in the morning, there are some individuals in which their line of work demanded absolute dedication.
That means no breaks taken…
The mailman still dressed in his uniform thankfully covered by his windbreaker, goes houses by houses delivering mails to the pillar box every single day.
Exhaling out a white fume, the 16year old African-American sighed as he slotted in the last mail. Looking at the double floor residence, he had never been so thankful that his boss had relived him, giving the boy time to go and freshen up before he can deliver signed papers back to him.
"Whew~ but you really can smell the Christmas, eh."
The aroma of fried chicken wafts into his nose, overcoming even the artic chill. The now adolescent Adams Abram breathed in with his stomach responding to the stirred delicacy with a growl.
"Oh, don't you worry." He rubbed his torso in pacification. "I'm gonna' do you justice, today, just you wait and see."
A growl followed as if saying 'it couldn't wait.'
Chuckling, Abram pulled up his hood hopping onto his bicycle pedaling away.
…-…-…-…-…-…-…
"Home sweet home!" Abram incanted as he stood before a small residence.
Hopping down, he guided his bicycle though the small entrance fastening it against the lone metal pole. Giving his neck bone some reliving pops as he walked up the rickety stairs, the 16year old opened the door and greeted out loud with a smile.
"I'm back~!"
He stood still waiting for a reply that he knew would never come. From the side of the living room, a picture of the boy's Dad and Mom hung up on the wall staring at their son unable to reply.
Swallowing a lump, the African-American gave a watery smile trying to get into the Christmas cheer. Even though, he knew it was on this day he lost his last surviving family…
"…!"
Abram suddenly let out a yelp, as he found his view obscured by soft dainty palms. But then when he realized that both palms had a familiar feel to it, the boy relaxed, while his smile became more sincere.
"Can you guess who?" The woman behind him asked.
Her voice had an accent that contained a surly undertone that always seemed to light a fire in the boy every time he hears her speak. Abram smiled at the dumb but cute way, his ordinary but also unordinary girlfriend decided to surprise him.
"Hmm~ allow me to guess." Abram said, cupping his chin like as if he was considering a particular scenery. "Chloe?"
The pressure tightened in response. "It seems like you don't need this eyes, then."
"Wait-Wait-Wait-Wait-Wait babe!"
Panicking, the boy knew his girlfriend had the freakish strength to do what she had just said. So he deftly slipped through the hold as he turned bringing his rather lithe girlfriend into a hug.
"I'm just screwing around, Sylvie. Come on, no need to take things that far."
She drew the tress currently obscuring one of her eyes, as she too contemplated in his hold. "You're lucky that you're embracing me tight, right now. I don't like being mistaken for another woman, you know that, Abram."
"Right, mam." The boy primly nodded as he looked down to see his girlfriend.
She had a fair unblemished skin, coupled with raven dark hair, and verdant green eyes that contained a mystical kind of glow. The boy could even say her beauty surpasses that of those famous models. It was that unearthly.
"I don't know what you are thinking of right now, but I have quite the feeling that I'll like it." She said releasing her boyfriend, as she went to hang her rather expensive looking dark fur coat while making herself right at home.
'I swear, you and that strange old man are kind of the same.' Abram thought as his hand instinctly went to the necklace beneath his clothes giving it a rub.
Well, even though she was quite the strange unordinary girl. Adams Abram would always be the first to say how lucky he is the luckiest man alive to have Sylvie Laufeydottir as his girlfriend….
Six years ago…
"Hey, pass the ball…!"
"Here!"
"Mark, fall back! They're trying to draw you in!"
"Ugh! Change of tactics! Let's bring out our secret weapon!"
It was a pleasant sunny day.
The afternoon sun in all its glory was still sparely obstructed by the clouds, and even so, there were still enough gaps that revealed the blue painting of the unique rich blue firmaments. As a result, it makes today the perfect day especially for the little kids who were on their summer vacations to come out and frolic around in the community park.
"Nice one, Sheeran! Hidden weapon or not, you aren't gonna' get pass our deffy."
The leafs on the branches were still lush green, proving that the vitality held within the numerous trees littered around the central park were still there. It painted a sparse forest, one with enough space that when looked closer, still contains a mystical elements that draws you in…
"Hey guys, time out! I'm feeling thirsty. I'm going to get something to drink from my mom."
"Alright… But when you're coming back, bring me lemon juice."
"Sweet tooth."
The community's park was particularly teeming on days like this. Lovers and families coming for a lovely day out. Bachelors and spinsters sprinkled around, hoping to become that lucky person as they exit the park. Even loners and tourists could be scantily spotted around, sitting at some park benches or under tree shades, just enjoying the beautiful scenery their present location presented…
But surely there must always be an odd one out….
The 10 year old African-American sat gloomily on the swing, watching the panorama with dull eyes. Dressed in yellow sleeve shirt and shorts of a darker tinge. It was expected by his folks back at home that he was supposed to dirty his present wear by enjoying himself.
'Be with your friends,' They said. 'Childhood always happens once in a life time,' They said.
Bah!
For the little boy, all their sayings would have been correct… If he strangely wasn't the only Black kid in the community.
It has been speculated around the world, that your method of upbringing could either make you or break you. It could either hasten your growth or slow it down.
Just look all the young superhuman kids for example.
The boy would like to believe that it helped him grow. If it weren't for the fact that his dad refused to let him to carry his books, then he would have been sitting under a shade far from this racket reading comfortably. Or, better yet. He would have been napping, although, the numbers around here makes would have made it hard to do so.
"As if the Red Skull isn't enough." The 10 years old muttered dryly to himself.
Both his feet pushed against the pasture giving the child momentum to swing himself like a pendulum. Sighing, he wondered why he was even doing this, before the answer then came to him.
His dad is a police man assigned to this neighborhood. And for all the police were purported to be a fair legal establishment, there were still racial nuances and prejudices back at the station that made his dad dead tired at most times. So the boy didn't want to ruin his father's free day.
Absentmindedly staring at an orange butterfly that flapped pass him. The boy wondered, for all talks of USA being free, was it truly that. FREE…
Like for examples, the Mutants. A specific group of people with a little something in their blood system that either changes their forms horribly or grants them superpowers. But instead of the world to help them acclimate back into the society with their new changes, they crease their face in disgust calling them freaks, progenies birthed by the devils.
Mobs chase them down and kill them…
Their parents disown them, chasing them from what was once their homes…
Giant robots fly around, looking to capture them like they weren't like the next man or woman just some seconds ago…
How stupid…
Is it truly a surprise that most of the Mutants would resort to villainy?
Dad always says that, people shouldn't blame the world for the actions they take as they are the masters of themselves. But what if it was the world who presented it to those people as the only option?
"Quite the line of thought coming from a little child that ought to be playing with the others on this beautiful day."
The boy shivered as cold sweat covered his back. Just at his side, an old man with pure white hair wearing a simple brown jacket, a white-collared inner and black slacks sat by his side. Dark obscuring glasses hid the old man's eyes, but the boy could have sworn the man's eyes had a subtle cherry twinkle.
"Indeed they do, son."
'There it is again.' The boy shivered.
How is the man doing that? Reading his mind like that. Is he some kind of Mutant telepath? Magician, Alien, maybe even a God or a higher entity. Fear took hold of the 10 year old as he wondered what he had done to warrant such a visit.
The strange old man scratched the side of his head, before turning to the crowd and then emulated the young boy's swinging.
"Those are some fanciful names you got there, kid. Well, I've been called many things by many people. But I would prefer calling myself, Stan Lee. But you kid can call me, Mr. Lee."
The boy dumbly nodded to which the old man chuckled.
"So kid, what's yours?"
"Abram…" The boy replied, as he strangely felt calm around the man. "Adams."
"So Abram, eh. What are you doing here all by yourself under this wonderful weather rather playing with your age-mates?"
It was then, Abram resumed back to gazing at the scenery. The boys who had just taken a short break had resumed back, playing football with full throttle.
"As you can see, apparently because I'm black, I'm neither invited nor welcomed." Abram replied back with his voice becoming a little snarky.
"Because of your skin color, eh?" The stranger hummed. "How unoriginal. Well, it isn't that much of a surprise. No matter how far the world has progressed, there will still be a primal instinct in men to group together against something different in their midst. You can be sure that the same thing would happen, even if you were a white kid in a black neighborhood."
"Yeah I know that." But then the boy smiled. "Although, it does make me feel like those X-men folks?"
Mr. Lee huffed in amusement. "… Just like the X-men."
The swinging duo were quiet for some seconds, Abram feeling quiet strange and giddy? As he sucked in a deep breath. The summer air suffused in delicious food from all flats and outdoor barbecue were making him to feel quiet hungry.
"Up we go."
The African-American turned to see Mr. Lee stand up dusting his pants.
"Hey kid. How about we go grab a hamburger and something to drink?"
Abram tilted his head. "But I don't have any money."
The stranger brought his glasses down revealing a blue eye that winked at the child. "Don't worry about that, I still got some spare change left on me."
Suddenly feeling an urge to smile, Abram gave a large swing as he hopped down bopping his head. "Well, thanks!"
…..
"So kid, how do you feel about comics?"
They had already changed their location to a park bench at a higher ground that provided a wonderful view of the scenery…
"Comics…" Abram took another bite of his hamburger, using his sleeve to clean his lips before he immediately replied. "I love them."
"Hmm~" Mr. Lee smiled as he rested an arm on the rest, crossing his leg as he regarded the child. "And, what do you love about them."
Now feeling a little bit self-conscious, Abram bashfully rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I really don't have a complicated answer, except that it's just fun. To be someone, to go one a mystical journey, fight the bad guys, save the day… Comics gives me this adrenaline feeling that the real world can't provide safely."
Incursions from aliens, invasions from hell-spots. From ordinary super-villains to all-powerful titans set on destroying or conquering the Planet. Adams Abram had never been so thankful that he lives in a small unknown town far away from the big fights. With his dad being a policeman and all, would mean absolutely nothing in the face of Gods and Superhumans.
He would only be the initial casualty, his life taken from him in the line of duty…
Even so, it doesn't mean that he hates superhumans. Rather he likes them, or to be more precise, the adventure of what being 'Them' would present. Alien worlds, dimensions, realities. That and many more comes with the perk of being one of 'Them.'
So yes, through that colored piece of paper, Abram likes to soak himself into the life of a Super-Hero and adventure every once in a while.
If the boy was expecting Mr. Lee to feel disappointed in his reply, then he was so very wrong.
"100%, A, excellent! That is what I like to hear! You see, Abram. Comics for me are like a window opportunity presented to the common folks. Not as an avenue of power play, but rather as a form imaginative interaction. To feel what the characters feel, laugh when they laugh and cry when they cry… You, Abram have made me a happy man."
'And have also affirmed for me that you are really deserving of my gift. '
Mr. Lee sighed sitting up, gazing straight forward as if he was looking at a fond image.
"You see kid. I'm heading somewhere far away. Where I don't know? But where I'm going… I'm never coming back."
A wave of sadness filled the 10 year old, as he shook uncomfortably. As one without friends, while strange, it wasn't a surprise that Mr. Lee was suddenly growing on the young child. Even though Mr. Lee might be somewhat peculiar…
"Are-Are you, dying?"
"Dying…? No-no, rather I'm heading for another big adventure. You see, I have friends waiting for me over there, and I'm already due for that place after all." Seeing the child's despondent look, shook the old man's heart. So with a smile filled with age, and most important of all, 'Satisfaction,' Mr. Lee continued.
"Come on, it's no big deal. And also, before I go, I've decided to create a little something for this world, a last 'Legacy' of sorts. I'm somewhat of a 'Comic Artist' after all."
It was then, the young Adams Abram heard the question that would spark the beginning of the greatest adventure of his life.
"A mutant, a god, an alien or a cosmic entity. Which one do you like among all the ones I mentioned?"
Abram blinked at the sudden question being thrown at him. The child was about to question why Mr. Lee was asking such kind of question until he noticed that the man appeared quite serious.
Upon seeing that, he took one last bite gulping down the remaining burger, flushing down it with his drink. Clearing his throat, Abram ruminated aloud.
"Mutants, like the X-men. Gods as in Thor and Hercules. Aliens like that purple man that calls himself, The Gladiator, or Cosmic Entity… Like Galactus? Hmm…" The boy closed his eyes making a show of swaying his head in contemplation.
"I say… Mutants."
Mr. Lee's eyes shot up. "Why not the others? From what I've been seeing, being a Mutant is more of a lottery. If you are lucky, you become powerful, if not, then your power becomes what literally kills you."
Abrams nodded in affirmation. Mr. Lee was right about that. From those propagandas presented on TV shows –especially those FOHs- they always show Mutants as one big inhuman shaped monsters. But the boy knew that most of them didn't even want to be that.
Some Mutants like the terrorist Magneto get to be powerful, while some others get to look like monsters. It was always a matter of luck…
But even so…
"I still prefer Mutants over the others, simply because I am rooting for them and no matter what all the others say about them, they are still the same as us, humans in the end."
Correspondingly, when he sees ordinary 'Gifted' humans standing alongside super-powered gods, cosmic beings and aliens. It subtly fills him with pride, that yes, even the people of Earth got what it takes to stand on its own in this wide and alarmingly dangerous universe.
Mr. Lee stared in intently at the boy, before shaking his head. "You really know how to keep this old-bones amazed, kid. Mutant, huh, got it. Now, how about the main question I've been meaning to ask. Tell me ' Three' of your favorite Superhumans."
"Three?" Abrams echoed before giving a light chuckle.
That was quite funny because, if Mr. Lee had asked him the number of his favorite superhumans, then the African-American would have said that exact number.
Three…
"Blue Marvel, Sentry… And Spawn."
"Spawn?" The old man echoed, feigning a show of being confused.
Fortunately the boy didn't get Mr. Lee undercurrent tone as Abrams bashfully laughed. "He's a comic book character, my favorite character. I like his cool costume, his powers and most of all, even though everyone is always calling him the bad guy, he's more of an anti-hero who uses his rather evil powers for good. Kind of like the X-men and the Hulk."
"Heh~" Mr. Lee looked up to see the sun approaching its midpoint. "Spawn, huh. With Sentry and Blue Marvel, although I can see why you picked those two. The yellow Guardian with cool powers, while the other is a man who by all right should have hated the world, but still decides to be the better man."
The boy nodded. "Right on the dot, Mr. Lee."
Resting both his elbows on his laps, Mr. Lee steeple his hands together with his face taking on a look of utmost concentration. "Mutant. Sentry, Blue Marvel and Spawn. Quite the bar I got this time, how fun. So how am I to mash them all together?"
…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…
At that very moment,
In a certain dimension. An Omnipotent being closed his eyes, as he sat before a plain piece of paper, pencil in hand, with cleaners and rulers by the ready…
He, who drew an infinite adventurous narratives in the House of Ideas is once again, ready to begin his next, and final tale.
With a snap, TOOA's eyes cranked open as a jolly smile creased his lips. With a bubbling emotion that could never be contained.
TOOA for the last time drew with all his heart… Like he always did.
…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…
"Hahahahahahaha, I got it!" The old man whooped in childlike wonder. "From magic to science, from the supernatural to all scientific wonders… I can see it now, and it'll be so cool."
Facing the utterly bemused Abram Adams, Mr. Lee's wild smile turned soft. His hand went into a pocket in his jacket and from it produced out a necklace. It had a dull golden sheen that suggested its mineral authenticity, but the 10 year old couldn't be so sure. It also had a thin crisscross like chain work while at the center was a ruby like cross.
"Here, I want you to take this."
Hesitantly, Abram took the cross off the man's hands observing it in curiosity. "It's beautiful." But the boy still couldn't help but ask. "But why are you giving me this?"
"Hmm~" The old man shrugged. "That's for the future you to find out."
Ruffling the boy's head, Mr. Lee shoved his hands into his pocket. He would have loved to say more, but unfortunately, it is finally time to get going…
"Kid, I want you to remember as you go forward, that life would not always be easy for you. It doesn't matter if you are a hero, a villain or even a normal civilian. I won't say, with great power comes with great responsibilities' but always remember. 'Live life to the fullest,' and… Excelsior!"
"?" The boy tilted his head at the last word, "Excelsior?"
But at the next blink of the child's eyes… Mr. Lee was gone. Turning around, Abram furtively cast his gaze left and right trying to spot where the old man had left… In the end, the African-American would later go home thinking what had just happened was all a dream.
Meanwhile around his neck, the ruby like gem glowed…
-Spawn Ω Archetypes-
It was a place of free of ideas… A %$ of pure blankness, free from the colors of creations. A space that will never be known to anyone else… Except the lone old man who trekked across the space that had no such thing as distance. But in that moment, he granted it such a concept…
"Humm~!" Stretching his hands while groaning, Stan Lee smiled with a look of accomplishment. "Whew~ that really took a lot out from me than I imagined. Although, it seems like I did made him tad bit too powerful… Eh~ well the world can surely handle him."
His nonchalant tone was a sign of an unbreakable trust, he had in a cosmos that has and will always face an uncountable number of tribulations and still thrive in the end.
"Abram Adams, huh… Or should I be calling him, the Divine Spawn." The man who could be described as another facet of 'The One Above All' smiled.
It was on a whim, a little stroll he took at an unassuming park, where he saw the little kid looking on forlornly… Oh, the creator could smell the adventure aromatizing out from an Omni-verse away. He couldn't help but give in.
"I'll be seeing from the other-side, the kind of changes you'll be making in around here. Although, I know it wouldn't be a small one."
His sudden musing was cut off, as just besides Stan Lee, a young maiden like voice called to him. "Oh, dear. It seems like the wonders of the world has cut you off once again."
It carried such a familiarity that his eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful maiden that stood beside him. "Joan…"
His mouth opened in mute shock, before his apparently younger wife chuckled pulling him along. "Honey. You've got to tell me of all the wonder things I have been missing."
"Everything." The young man who had once and shall always be called 'The True Loving Father' replied, as he strengthened his hold around his wife's hand.
"Only this time, I'm never letting go. Let's go see it all together."
"Excelsior and beyond…"
"… … …" A trail of tear passed through his eyes as they both entered cavity in the blank space, heading for the unknown. "Excelsior and beyond."
…-…-…-…-…-…-…-...
It was felt throughout the cosmos. It couldn't be described, neither was there any explanation… From every being, thing and concept that possess a modicum of thought felt a trail of something slid down their cheeks.
And when asked, this was their strange report.
Something wonderful has just left on a journey of no return.
.
The Living Tribunal bowed to an empty seemingly Throne. It was his only way of showing respect to his creator, the one who granted him life and purpose. But The Living Tribunal knew the emptiness of the True Omnipotent Seat of Power wouldn't be there for long…
He is coming…
-Spawn Ω Archetype-
Earth-616
Present day…
'Dancing through the snow~'
'On a one horse open sleigh~'
'One the fields we go~ laughing all the way~'
'Hahaha~'
'Dancing through the snow~'
'On a one horse open sleigh~'
'One the fields we go~ laughing all the way~'
'Hahaha~'
The falling snow, coupled with the thrumming carols that echoed all around, resonated with the eminent season of cheerful giving. There was a jolly atmosphere in town…
The streets were lit up with multi-colored lights from the roofs of houses nearby. Occasionally, snowmen could be spotted around, some with carrots serving as their noses while the others had only had a scarf around their invisible necks. It was only two days to the most famous day of the year…
As such, it was the norm that holidays were expected to be taken by most companies, industries or institutions -except the Black Companies, of course- But even though it was just 5 in the morning, there are some individuals in which their line of work demanded absolute dedication.
That means no breaks taken…
The mailman still dressed in his uniform thankfully covered by his windbreaker, goes houses by houses delivering mails to the pillar box every single day.
Exhaling out a white fume, the 16year old African-American sighed as he slotted in the last mail. Looking at the double floor residence, he had never been so thankful that his boss had relived him, giving the boy time to go and freshen up before he can deliver signed papers back to him.
"Whew~ but you really can smell the Christmas, eh."
The aroma of fried chicken wafts into his nose, overcoming even the artic chill. The now adolescent Adams Abram breathed in with his stomach responding to the stirred delicacy with a growl.
"Oh, don't you worry." He rubbed his torso in pacification. "I'm gonna' do you justice, today, just you wait and see."
A growl followed as if saying 'it couldn't wait.'
Chuckling, Abram pulled up his hood hopping onto his bicycle pedaling away.
…-…-…-…-…-…-…
"Home sweet home!" Abram incanted as he stood before a small residence.
Hopping down, he guided his bicycle though the small entrance fastening it against the lone metal pole. Giving his neck bone some reliving pops as he walked up the rickety stairs, the 16year old opened the door and greeted out loud with a smile.
"I'm back~!"
He stood still waiting for a reply that he knew would never come. From the side of the living room, a picture of the boy's Dad and Mom hung up on the wall staring at their son unable to reply.
Swallowing a lump, the African-American gave a watery smile trying to get into the Christmas cheer. Even though, he knew it was on this day he lost his last surviving family…
"…!"
Abram suddenly let out a yelp, as he found his view obscured by soft dainty palms. But then when he realized that both palms had a familiar feel to it, the boy relaxed, while his smile became more sincere.
"Can you guess who?" The woman behind him asked.
Her voice had an accent that contained a surly undertone that always seemed to light a fire in the boy every time he hears her speak. Abram smiled at the dumb but cute way, his ordinary but also unordinary girlfriend decided to surprise him.
"Hmm~ allow me to guess." Abram said, cupping his chin like as if he was considering a particular scenery. "Chloe?"
The pressure tightened in response. "It seems like you don't need this eyes, then."
"Wait-Wait-Wait-Wait-Wait babe!"
Panicking, the boy knew his girlfriend had the freakish strength to do what she had just said. So he deftly slipped through the hold as he turned bringing his rather lithe girlfriend into a hug.
"I'm just screwing around, Sylvie. Come on, no need to take things that far."
She drew the tress currently obscuring one of her eyes, as she too contemplated in his hold. "You're lucky that you're embracing me tight, right now. I don't like being mistaken for another woman, you know that, Abram."
"Right, mam." The boy primly nodded as he looked down to see his girlfriend.
She had a fair unblemished skin, coupled with raven dark hair, and verdant green eyes that contained a mystical kind of glow. The boy could even say her beauty surpasses that of those famous models. It was that unearthly.
"I don't know what you are thinking of right now, but I have quite the feeling that I'll like it." She said releasing her boyfriend, as she went to hang her rather expensive looking dark fur coat while making herself right at home.
'I swear, you and that strange old man are kind of the same.' Abram thought as his hand instinctly went to the necklace beneath his clothes giving it a rub.
Well, even though she was quite the strange unordinary girl. Adams Abram would always be the first to say how lucky he is the luckiest man alive to have Sylvie Laufeydottir as his girlfriend….
The Devil within…
Earth-616
'Everyone's got a devil inside.'
When you hear such saying, what's the first thing that comes into your mind?
Anger issues. Hidden phobia. A traumatic event of sorts. Dangerous impulsive thoughts. Scary alternate personalities? It may not even be as severe as the ones listed. In this world of gods and monsters it could even be mild. But I do agree with saying.
"Everyone's got a devil inside.'
My own little devil is a little bit generic, but much more… Literal.
It's like a person sitting before the TV watching a horror movie, he obviously doesn't want to see. Unfortunately, his opinion never matters as his eye are pried open painfully from the eyelids. While he is forcefully sited in a dark lonely room, watching it happen again and again.
A never ending spiral of torment.
I've got demons… They forever hunt my dreams.
…-…-…-…-…-…-...
"Just keep on running, son. Make sure to hold her hand and don't look back, God! What's wrong with this people?! She's just a little kid!"
My tired exhales were white, due to the coldness and tiredness from running through risen snow. For a transient instant, I vaguely wondered how such sequence of events has led to this precarious moment.
Joy to the world and stuffs like that… It was Christmas Eve, and like every other Christmas Eve, Dad sets time for us to get into a little shopping in preparations for the Big Day.
I can still remember beaming and nodding my head to the carols sung in the shopping mall. Dad would always ruffle my head and join in, as we both shamelessly disturbed the other customers with our terrible singing.
Good old days and stuffs like that…
"Kill the demon! Purge the devil's spawn from this world! God is with us!"
Both I and my dad stood transfixed at the roadside, as those Anti-Mutant groups, the ones outfitted in white gown-like dresses with black cross sewn on them, the Purifiers, matched across our street while chasing what appeared to be a little girl with an unhuman characteristics.
"Abram, why don't you stay here, while I'll go check on what's really happening."
Ever the diligent cop, Dad strapped his batch while holstering his gun. He had no idea what was going on, but for such hostility to be shown to a child... It was just wrong and as an officer of the law, it was required of him to demand answers for such barbarity.
But as expected, his stern questioning provoked angry replies, from both the pious murderers and the bloodthirsty crowds.
'You! Are you in cohorts with this demon-child to speak for her?'
'It's a child for God's sake! Do you expect me to just let you get on and be done with it?!'
A scuffled later got both my Dad and I on the run from a homicidal crowd not far behind. The Mutant -I still can't remember her face even till now- was around my age as I pulled her along, trudging through the snow that slowed our running speed.
Seeing the tears rolling down her eyes, as she cried for her parents, made me wince in phantom pain. Looking back, it was like we were being pursued by a large pack of heartless monsters.
Only that these ones can talk…
Is this how far they had stooped? She was around my age, probably lower even. And here she was, rather than under a Christmas tree with her parents decorating, she was under the cold running for her life away from people who saw her as nothing more than a freak of nature.
Hate… For a 12 year old, wasn't truly surprising. Hate green peas, hate school, hate certain people that wrong or offend you. They were natural qualities a child has to experience in life as he develops.
Mine though… Was a little bit different, as for the first time in life.
I wished everyone behind me should just Die.
Occasional gunshots rang out, as both Dad and the Purifiers exchanged shots.
'Damn it! Where are those X-men folks? Aren't they the ones that take care of this kind of shit?'
If it weren't for the situation at hand, I would have been laughing at Dad for cursing out loud. He was always the one that sternly instructed me not to be saying such foul words.
Dirties the mind and turns you into a society scoundrel…
Finally it happens.
A loud bang later, I felt something hit flesh and Dad grunting in pain.
'Abram…'
When I turned to look, but a hand clamped the hind of my neck forcing me to face straight.
'Just keep facing forward. No need to look back, son. Rather you… You look at her.'
His voice was muffled and haggard. I didn't want to hear that. I wanted him to turn me around and look me in the eye, assuring me that by the end of the day that this will nothing more than a bad memory.
But as I looked at the unrecognizable girl who was still crying. My heart clenched, and unintentionally, I pulled the girl up carrying her.
'Good… That's my boy. Protect her, that's all you have to focus on, for now…'
My legs still kept on moving even though every single cell within me was telling me to look back. At that moment, I didn't know what to think as I kept on running.
First get the girl to safety, and then Dad… That's what he would have done.
'Son… I want you to keep on going, while I'll try to hold back this rowdy nutcases.'
There was a pain and tiredness in his voice. One that told me something had happened to him. Tears fell down as I felt that this was the very last time, I was ever going to see him.
'Dad… What are we having for dinner?'
'… You…'
My question was one that warranted assurance. A 12year old that wanted this nightmare to end. A promise made from a father to his son that indirectly promised that they were all going home.
'How about key lime pie… Graham cracker crust. What do you say about that?'
'… … My favorite, I'll be waiting, Dad.'
'Yeah… I'll be right behind you, son.'
Letting out a shout, I spurred myself in the chill to run , run like I never had before. Howlers splashed behind me, from my Dad's and others, gunshots rang the air like crazy. Twice, I had felt something whizzed pass me. But I was too afraid to stop and confirm what it is…
How long… For how long did I run? How far away was I from those Purifiers? Questions asked, but unanswered.
The girl had already fallen unconscious due to the crying, while I felt faint and feverish as a result of the sudden unwanted exercise. My pace slowed down till I all I could do was lumber around, dizzy, tired, and in pain.
Black spots settled in as the darkness beguiled me into her bosom… The last image I could see before Mobius claimed my psyche was the color of orange and black shaped like an X.
I can still remember the burial.
It was in the morning of Boxing Day, a day after he was officially pronounced dead. There was no Wake as a result of financial issues, not like I had relatives to ask. Dad says that to them, he might as well not exist.
… … I can still remember the disbelief I had when I hollered for the doctor to check once more.
Dad always says, that just because you are an expert in something doesn't means that you will be right in everything that pertains to that something… But this, how was I to disprove this?
Not when I clearly recognized his form beneath that white thin piece of cloth, cold and unmoving.
Not many people came in the end. The pastor who gave a short boring prayer, two undertakers to lower the coffin and some of my Dad's friends in the neighborhood. 12. That was the faithful amount that arrived to send my Dad off.
Concerning the Mutant girl, from what I had heard. She had been picked up by the famous Mutant, the X-man Wolverine, who had also sent me to the hospital for my fever which had been high owing to the cold.
Yes, in the end I did it, I saved the girl… Only to lose my father in the end.
If this were a Comic Book. This was the moment I would awaken a superpower and hunt down all those murderers who so callously murdered a good man.
But in this world, only one concept can determine such awakening.
Luck…
So I was left powerless, and inadequate as I watched the real Devils enjoy their Christmas holidays. With blood in their hands as they feasted lavishly, while praying to a God that was totally different from the one I knew.
A God that wanted only destruction.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.
I think that was when It came out for the first time.
Unexplained murders…
On New Year's Eve, windows and doors were shut close and people were afraid to leave their houses after the sun turned golden, as a result of its setting. Someone or something was out there terrorizing the town.
A man speared through, like one would do to a fish with a roughly shaped stake.
A woman whose guts were spilled open and intestines wrapped around her neck.
Two men whose eyes were pulled off and stuffed in their mouths.
An elderly whose head was cut off and put inside his stomach…
Deaths too gruesome to describe. I too was among the horrified masses… That was until I got the message.
At that moment I felt strange. Somehow I knew that this being or whatever it is, was talking speaking to me… I never realized it, but at that moment.
They were all participants in his death…
I smiled… Maniacal laughter filling the lonely house, as a 12year old hooted with diabolical joy. Wishing that the demon should do more…
Let them suffer! Let them loss! Let them mourn! Let them fear! Let them never have peace!
Endless curses spewed from my mouth, as I wished for more and more to die. It wasn't an attitude of a 12year old, but for me that moment was more cathartic than I expected…
But that was when I remember his words…
It wasn't a grand saying, it wasn't an inspirational speech. Just a simple sentence from a man who staggered in, tired from a hard day from work. But that doused me in cold understanding.
Dad's never coming back, and I'm all alone. Rather wasting my time happy that those bastards were dying or already dead, I should be thinking of how to move forward now that I without any form of support.
Their problems were theirs while mine was mine.
At that very night, just as I was about to retire to bed… I finally saw it. The one behind the others.
The lights flickered eerily while I was washing my face in the sink. The cold fogged the mirror so I couldn't see clearly, but I could tell… There was someone or rather something behind me.
Mechanically, I slowly cleared the fog beginning from the bottom. There I saw vermillion red and jet black.
Like a child caught in a nefarious trance, I cleaned upward as I saw human like skulls decorating its form. Reaching its facial section, I paused, hands going a little higher drawing a single line.
Baleful verdant eyes grinned at me and I screamed.
"Gaaa!..."
The boy's eyes snapped open, and from his mouth came out a terrified scream. Gasping, Abram looked around only to realize that he had fallen asleep on the couch near the fireplace. Sighing, he breathed calming down, and the 16year old wiped away the film of sweat on his forehead while reclining back into the couch.
"Dammit, it's always like that…" He muttered wearily, cleaning the edges of his eyes.
Shaking his head, Abram tuned out the rest of the news to orient himself. It was a ritual he always did after going through that. Popping the stiff bones on his neck and hips, Abram looked towards the window observing the falling snow.
'The yard is gonna' be a pain in the ass to clean up.'
Particularly the slowly plunging snowflakes that was sure to pill up. He wondered if he would actually have time to do that. Nah… Not when he still have some appointments to keep to.
"And speaking of appointments, what's the time? Just 30minutes after, Boss gave me 1hour more so I still got time to put something in my belly."
A rumble drew his hand to his torso, rubbing it. Although it was at that moment two soft pair of arms snaked around his neck while a beautiful figure rested her face on his shoulders.
"Hey, Sylvia."
"Hey yourself, sleepyhead."
Bright green eyes stared right into his, as Abram let out a smile at the smirk on his girlfriend's face.
"You know I had to prepare for work this morning. Boss said he'll give me a little extra, if I could get this done before the town properly wakes up."
"And you're done?"
"Yep."
"Good boy, maybe you deserve a little prize." Pecking him on the cheek, the raven beauty heard his stomach rumbling and she grinned.
"It isn't morning proper and someone's hungry."
"Well, can you blame me?" Abram stood up, stretching up his hands while giving his waist some experimental twists.
"I woke up early this morning, and went around almost half of town, slotting manila papers into postboxes. Not to mention the delicious aroma lingering around some houses due to the festive season. Of course, this little guy somewhat has the right to complain."
Soft hands wrapped around his as Sylvia pulled him along towards the dining.
"You're lucky Mister that you got me as your girlfriend, then. Before I went to sleep, I figured I should whoop something up for my hardworking family-man."
His brow raised, "What's on the menu?"
"Hmm… Nothing much just a little key-lime pie."
His mouth opened as he arrived at the dining table that had four chairs, situated in the middle was a tantalizing green and white pie just waiting to be devoured. Memories, painful but happy memoirs Abram kept deep in his heart flittered out, and his lips shook in appreciation.
'She actually remembered.' Spotting the sly smile on her face told Abram that she, like always, eerily knew what he was thinking. 'I'm so lucky to have met her.'
"Babe, thanks."
Sylvia chuckled as they both settled down. "Anytime."
…-…-…-…-…-…-…-...
"About the patio, I'll take care of it."
Abram stood by the veranda putting on his windbreaker, a red scarf went around his neck when he realized that the speed in which the snow was falling increased by a smidge. To Sylvia, the 16year old raised a brow at her declaration after she had caught on his absentminded mumbling.
"Let's just do it together, after the snowing stops. It'll be much easier that way."
Placing a hand on her hip, Sylvia looked up staring at him in the eyes. "Do you think you'll be capable of clearing the heap faster than me? Or have you already forgotten what happened last year?"
An eye twitched as the boy reminisced the embarrassing display that happened on a day like this.
Abram at that time, had told Sylvia that he was strong enough to clear away the entire snow around the house by himself. As a 15yr old kid, there was that inherent instinct to show some form of manliness. But with an unimpressed look, Sylvia took one spade while giving him the other.
'How about this, Abram. You go start there, while I'll start here. First to clean up their side is the winner, while the loser has to apologize for their rude remark.'
'Oh, you're on!'
Although now, Abram just wants to go back in time and bonk his younger self on the head for agreeing so assuredly.
He could remember huffing and puffing as he shoveled away the snow. Abram wasn't that confident in his strength but he presumed it was more than enough to triumph over Sylvia's whose physique was visibly slimmer.
Boy was he so wrong!
'I'm done.'
'What?! You're lying. I haven't even reached half and you're telling me you are already done with your portion!'
'Why don't you go check and see, then.'
Check he did and he was met with a wider yard free of snow. God! He could still feel that phantom heat of embarrassment emanating even to this day.
"Well, Mister."
The verdant eyes gorgeous incanted with a tone that brokered victory, lightly puffing her developing chest. While marinating in her boyfriend's blushing.
"Alright, alright. But after the snow falling. Let's not create too much work for ourselves." Abram acquitted with a rueful smile. His phone ringed which he picked up to see a message from his friend.
"Got to go, Kevin called. He's waiting for me so that we'll go see Boss together. Says he's got to leave for New York, this morning. Probably to celebrate Christmas with his relatives."
At that Sylvia had an unreadable gleam in her eyes. "So Prime's leaving, huh. That means it's today. Our quiet life is finally coming to end."
"I can't hear what you're saying, Sylvia, speak up."
But she waved her hand, languidly. "Nothing to worry yourself about, honey. It's just rubbish muttering."
"… … Ok, if you say so."
Watching as Abram trudged into the snowfall, mounting his bicycle and pedaling away. Sylvia who was left alone sighed closing her eyes.
'All-Father, give me strength.'
She would always hate Odin for being such a bastard towards her, but she couldn't deny that sometimes she had felt his love… However sparse it was.
Sylvia knew that this day would surely come. It took too many time-travels before it settled within her godly psyche that in one way or the other, the power buried within her beloved must resurface.
And with it, brings about the attention of many great and terrible beings.
'Please…' Sylvia crossed her arms rubbing the side of her arms while closed her eyes.
'We are having a life together, away from the fantastical and pandemonium of the world. We are in our own little heaven and now it's going to go away. Please All-Father, one who hears all and sees all, the one who has the understanding of the first stars. Show me a way to protect him. I sincerely beseech of you.'
Unfortunately, it was all for naught. The All-Father will not hear her both due to his alienation from earthly matters and her own doing due to magical obscuration. She just wanted to pray to affirm herself just as she always did.
Once, the goddess would have done everything to make Asgard acknowledge her. But now she was done with that, -that was for herself of the present- she just wants her own slice of happiness, however little.
"If the faith and Those Who Sit Above in Shadow think they can stop me… Ha… Hahahahahahaha!"
Sylvia swerved as her dress began to change. Velvety verdant clothed her form, on her head, a crown of gold shaped antlers was placed. Draping a fur cape, Sylvia or rather, Loki smiled impishly.
"Then they haven't see the True Loki! This time, I'll be giving this my all."
As she headed out into the snow white world, she gave a small smile. 'It's time to wake one flaming bird up.'
Then in a haze of green, Loki vanished into the unknown.
'Everyone's got a devil inside.'
When you hear such saying, what's the first thing that comes into your mind?
Anger issues. Hidden phobia. A traumatic event of sorts. Dangerous impulsive thoughts. Scary alternate personalities? It may not even be as severe as the ones listed. In this world of gods and monsters it could even be mild. But I do agree with saying.
"Everyone's got a devil inside.'
My own little devil is a little bit generic, but much more… Literal.
Do you want to see it?
Ω
Ω
It's like a person sitting before the TV watching a horror movie, he obviously doesn't want to see. Unfortunately, his opinion never matters as his eye are pried open painfully from the eyelids. While he is forcefully sited in a dark lonely room, watching it happen again and again.
Meanwhile behind him, it growls, waiting for that certain day it'll be released once more…
A never ending spiral of torment.
I've got demons… They forever hunt my dreams.
…-…-…-…-…-…-...
"Just keep on running, son. Make sure to hold her hand and don't look back, God! What's wrong with this people?! She's just a little kid!"
My tired exhales were white, due to the coldness and tiredness from running through risen snow. For a transient instant, I vaguely wondered how such sequence of events has led to this precarious moment.
Joy to the world and stuffs like that… It was Christmas Eve, and like every other Christmas Eve, Dad sets time for us to get into a little shopping in preparations for the Big Day.
I can still remember beaming and nodding my head to the carols sung in the shopping mall. Dad would always ruffle my head and join in, as we both shamelessly disturbed the other customers with our terrible singing.
Good old days and stuffs like that…
But then, it wouldn't be a Devil if it were a good dream, would it?
"Kill the demon! Purge the devil's spawn from this world! God is with us!"
Both I and my dad stood transfixed at the roadside, as those Anti-Mutant groups, the ones outfitted in white gown-like dresses with black cross sewn on them, the Purifiers, matched across our street while chasing what appeared to be a little girl with an unhuman characteristics.
"Abram, why don't you stay here, while I'll go check on what's really happening."
Ever the diligent cop, Dad strapped his batch while holstering his gun. He had no idea what was going on, but for such hostility to be shown to a child... It was just wrong and as an officer of the law, it was required of him to demand answers for such barbarity.
But as expected, his stern questioning provoked angry replies, from both the pious murderers and the bloodthirsty crowds.
'You! Are you in cohorts with this demon-child to speak for her?'
'It's a child for God's sake! Do you expect me to just let you get on and be done with it?!'
A scuffled later got both my Dad and I on the run from a homicidal crowd not far behind. The Mutant -I still can't remember her face even till now- was around my age as I pulled her along, trudging through the snow that slowed our running speed.
Seeing the tears rolling down her eyes, as she cried for her parents, made me wince in phantom pain. Looking back, it was like we were being pursued by a large pack of heartless monsters.
Only that these ones can talk…
Is this how far they had stooped? She was around my age, probably lower even. And here she was, rather than under a Christmas tree with her parents decorating, she was under the cold running for her life away from people who saw her as nothing more than a freak of nature.
Within me, something roared in agreement and eldritch like flames stirred to life.
Hate… For a 12 year old, wasn't truly surprising. Hate green peas, hate school, hate certain people that wrong or offend you. They were natural qualities a child has to experience in life as he develops.
Mine though… Was a little bit different, as for the first time in life.
I wished everyone behind me should just Die.
Occasional gunshots rang out, as both Dad and the Purifiers exchanged shots.
'Damn it! Where are those X-men folks? Aren't they the ones that take care of this kind of shit?'
If it weren't for the situation at hand, I would have been laughing at Dad for cursing out loud. He was always the one that sternly instructed me not to be saying such foul words.
Dirties the mind and turns you into a society scoundrel…
Finally it happens.
A loud bang later, I felt something hit flesh and Dad grunting in pain.
It was here that I roared. Struggling to force myself awake. I didn't want to see this… Please, please. I don't want to see him go again…
.
.
'Abram…'
When I turned to look, but a hand clamped the hind of my neck forcing me to face straight.
'Just keep facing forward. No need to look back, son. Rather you… You look at her.'
His voice was muffled and haggard. I didn't want to hear that. I wanted him to turn me around and look me in the eye, assuring me that by the end of the day that this will nothing more than a bad memory.
But as I looked at the unrecognizable girl who was still crying. My heart clenched, and unintentionally, I pulled the girl up carrying her.
'Good… That's my boy. Protect her, that's all you have to focus on, for now…'
My legs still kept on moving even though every single cell within me was telling me to look back. At that moment, I didn't know what to think as I kept on running.
First get the girl to safety, and then Dad… That's what he would have done.
'Son… I want you to keep on going, while I'll try to hold back this rowdy nutcases.'
There was a pain and tiredness in his voice. One that told me something had happened to him. Tears fell down as I felt that this was the very last time, I was ever going to see him.
'Dad… What are we having for dinner?'
'… You…'
My question was one that warranted assurance. A 12year old that wanted this nightmare to end. A promise made from a father to his son that indirectly promised that they were all going home.
'How about key lime pie… Graham cracker crust. What do you say about that?'
'… … My favorite, I'll be waiting, Dad.'
'Yeah… I'll be right behind you, son.'
Letting out a shout, I spurred myself in the chill to run , run like I never had before. Howlers splashed behind me, from my Dad's and others, gunshots rang the air like crazy. Twice, I had felt something whizzed pass me. But I was too afraid to stop and confirm what it is…
How long… For how long did I run? How far away was I from those Purifiers? Questions asked, but unanswered.
The girl had already fallen unconscious due to the crying, while I felt faint and feverish as a result of the sudden unwanted exercise. My pace slowed down till I all I could do was lumber around, dizzy, tired, and in pain.
Black spots settled in as the darkness beguiled me into her bosom… The last image I could see before Mobius claimed my psyche was the color of orange and black shaped like an X.
Ω
I can still remember the burial.
It was in the morning of Boxing Day, a day after he was officially pronounced dead. There was no Wake as a result of financial issues, not like I had relatives to ask. Dad says that to them, he might as well not exist.
… … I can still remember the disbelief I had when I hollered for the doctor to check once more.
Dad always says, that just because you are an expert in something doesn't means that you will be right in everything that pertains to that something… But this, how was I to disprove this?
Not when I clearly recognized his form beneath that white thin piece of cloth, cold and unmoving.
It roared and thrashed, while I huddled in my seat, fruitlessly stubbing the heart-wrenching pain.
.
.
Not many people came in the end. The pastor who gave a short boring prayer, two undertakers to lower the coffin and some of my Dad's friends in the neighborhood. 12. That was the faithful amount that arrived to send my Dad off.
Concerning the Mutant girl, from what I had heard. She had been picked up by the famous Mutant, the X-man Wolverine, who had also sent me to the hospital for my fever which had been high owing to the cold.
Yes, in the end I did it, I saved the girl… Only to lose my father in the end.
If this were a Comic Book. This was the moment I would awaken a superpower and hunt down all those murderers who so callously murdered a good man.
But in this world, only one concept can determine such awakening.
Luck…
So I was left powerless, and inadequate as I watched the real Devils enjoy their Christmas holidays. With blood in their hands as they feasted lavishly, while praying to a God that was totally different from the one I knew.
A God that wanted only destruction.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.
IT WASN'T FAIR!
.
'Everyone's got a devil inside.'
.
.
'Everyone's got a devil inside.'
.
I think that was when It came out for the first time.
Something big and powerful, chains rattling slithering around its behemoth form like a snake, and eldritch green flames emanating wispily around it.
Unexplained murders…
On New Year's Eve, windows and doors were shut close and people were afraid to leave their houses after the sun turned golden, as a result of its setting. Someone or something was out there terrorizing the town.
A man speared through, like one would do to a fish with a roughly shaped stake.
A woman whose guts were spilled open and intestines wrapped around her neck.
Two men whose eyes were pulled off and stuffed in their mouths.
An elderly whose head was cut off and put inside his stomach…
Deaths too gruesome to describe. I too was among the horrified masses… That was until I got the message.
Murderer will never escape true Justice!
At that moment I felt strange. Somehow I knew that this being or whatever it is, was talking speaking to me… I never realized it, but at that moment.
They were all participants in his death…
I smiled… Maniacal laughter filling the lonely house, as a 12year old hooted with diabolical joy. Wishing that the demon should do more…
Let them suffer! Let them loss! Let them mourn! Let them fear! Let them never have peace!
Endless curses spewed from my mouth, as I wished for more and more to die. It wasn't an attitude of a 12year old, but for me that moment was more cathartic than I expected…
But that was when I remember his words…
'Son, it's always was easy to hate, easy to wish for everything to burn... But it's never easy to move on, and start again... You only have one life. So don't waste it on unnecessary grudges and focus on improving yourself.'
It wasn't a grand saying, it wasn't an inspirational speech. Just a simple sentence from a man who staggered in, tired from a hard day from work. But that doused me in cold understanding.
Dad's never coming back, and I'm all alone. Rather wasting my time happy that those bastards were dying or already dead, I should be thinking of how to move forward now that I without any form of support.
Their problems were theirs while mine was mine.
But I should have known, I should have suspected it was never so easy.
At that very night, just as I was about to retire to bed… I finally saw it. The one behind the others.
The signs were always there before me to pick up and deduce.
The lights flickered eerily while I was washing my face in the sink. The cold fogged the mirror so I couldn't see clearly, but I could tell… There was someone or rather something behind me.
The chains clattered like they always did, rising in hellish tempo as its otherworldly cry shook the Dream-realm. Meanwhile I shut my eyes like I always did, obstinately denying its existence.
Mechanically, I slowly cleared the fog beginning from the bottom. There I saw vermillion red and jet black.
Everyone's got a Devil inside. Hey, Abram Adams…
Like a child caught in a nefarious trance, I cleaned upward as I saw human like skulls decorating its form. Reaching its facial section, I paused, hands going a little higher drawing a single line.
Wanna see yours?
Baleful verdant eyes grinned at me and I screamed.
A loop that will always begin the next time I shut my eyes…
- Spawn Ω Archetype-
- Spawn Ω Archetype-
"Gaaa!..."
The boy's eyes snapped open, and from his mouth came out a terrified scream. Gasping, Abram looked around only to realize that he had fallen asleep on the couch near the fireplace. Sighing, he breathed calming down, and the 16year old wiped away the film of sweat on his forehead while reclining back into the couch.
"Dammit, it's always like that…" He muttered wearily, cleaning the edges of his eyes.
We bring to you, the public announcement for the 50-states Initiative, propagated by the Chief-Director of S.H.I.E.L.D, Tony Stark, codename, Iron-Man, which is set to commence on the 5th of January 20xx. According to the Chief- Director, he informs us that it is with hope that…
Shaking his head, Abram tuned out the rest of the news to orient himself. It was a ritual he always did after going through that. Popping the stiff bones on his neck and hips, Abram looked towards the window observing the falling snow.
'The yard is gonna' be a pain in the ass to clean up.'
Particularly the slowly plunging snowflakes that was sure to pill up. He wondered if he would actually have time to do that. Nah… Not when he still have some appointments to keep to.
"And speaking of appointments, what's the time? Just 30minutes after, Boss gave me 1hour more so I still got time to put something in my belly."
A rumble drew his hand to his torso, rubbing it. Although it was at that moment two soft pair of arms snaked around his neck while a beautiful figure rested her face on his shoulders.
"Hey, Sylvia."
"Hey yourself, sleepyhead."
Bright green eyes stared right into his, as Abram let out a smile at the smirk on his girlfriend's face.
"You know I had to prepare for work this morning. Boss said he'll give me a little extra, if I could get this done before the town properly wakes up."
"And you're done?"
"Yep."
"Good boy, maybe you deserve a little prize." Pecking him on the cheek, the raven beauty heard his stomach rumbling and she grinned.
"It isn't morning proper and someone's hungry."
"Well, can you blame me?" Abram stood up, stretching up his hands while giving his waist some experimental twists.
"I woke up early this morning, and went around almost half of town, slotting manila papers into postboxes. Not to mention the delicious aroma lingering around some houses due to the festive season. Of course, this little guy somewhat has the right to complain."
Soft hands wrapped around his as Sylvia pulled him along towards the dining.
"You're lucky Mister that you got me as your girlfriend, then. Before I went to sleep, I figured I should whoop something up for my hardworking family-man."
His brow raised, "What's on the menu?"
"Hmm… Nothing much just a little key-lime pie."
His mouth opened as he arrived at the dining table that had four chairs, situated in the middle was a tantalizing green and white pie just waiting to be devoured. Memories, painful but happy memoirs Abram kept deep in his heart flittered out, and his lips shook in appreciation.
'She actually remembered.' Spotting the sly smile on her face told Abram that she, like always, eerily knew what he was thinking. 'I'm so lucky to have met her.'
"Babe, thanks."
Sylvia chuckled as they both settled down. "Anytime."
…-…-…-…-…-…-…-...
"About the patio, I'll take care of it."
Abram stood by the veranda putting on his windbreaker, a red scarf went around his neck when he realized that the speed in which the snow was falling increased by a smidge. To Sylvia, the 16year old raised a brow at her declaration after she had caught on his absentminded mumbling.
"Let's just do it together, after the snowing stops. It'll be much easier that way."
Placing a hand on her hip, Sylvia looked up staring at him in the eyes. "Do you think you'll be capable of clearing the heap faster than me? Or have you already forgotten what happened last year?"
An eye twitched as the boy reminisced the embarrassing display that happened on a day like this.
Abram at that time, had told Sylvia that he was strong enough to clear away the entire snow around the house by himself. As a 15yr old kid, there was that inherent instinct to show some form of manliness. But with an unimpressed look, Sylvia took one spade while giving him the other.
'How about this, Abram. You go start there, while I'll start here. First to clean up their side is the winner, while the loser has to apologize for their rude remark.'
'Oh, you're on!'
Although now, Abram just wants to go back in time and bonk his younger self on the head for agreeing so assuredly.
He could remember huffing and puffing as he shoveled away the snow. Abram wasn't that confident in his strength but he presumed it was more than enough to triumph over Sylvia's whose physique was visibly slimmer.
Boy was he so wrong!
'I'm done.'
'What?! You're lying. I haven't even reached half and you're telling me you are already done with your portion!'
'Why don't you go check and see, then.'
Check he did and he was met with a wider yard free of snow. God! He could still feel that phantom heat of embarrassment emanating even to this day.
"Well, Mister."
The verdant eyes gorgeous incanted with a tone that brokered victory, lightly puffing her developing chest. While marinating in her boyfriend's blushing.
"Alright, alright. But after the snow falling. Let's not create too much work for ourselves." Abram acquitted with a rueful smile. His phone ringed which he picked up to see a message from his friend.
"Got to go, Kevin called. He's waiting for me so that we'll go see Boss together. Says he's got to leave for New York, this morning. Probably to celebrate Christmas with his relatives."
At that Sylvia had an unreadable gleam in her eyes. "So Prime's leaving, huh. That means it's today. Our quiet life is finally coming to end."
"I can't hear what you're saying, Sylvia, speak up."
But she waved her hand, languidly. "Nothing to worry yourself about, honey. It's just rubbish muttering."
"… … Ok, if you say so."
Watching as Abram trudged into the snowfall, mounting his bicycle and pedaling away. Sylvia who was left alone sighed closing her eyes.
'All-Father, give me strength.'
She would always hate Odin for being such a bastard towards her, but she couldn't deny that sometimes she had felt his love… However sparse it was.
Sylvia knew that this day would surely come. It took too many time-travels before it settled within her godly psyche that in one way or the other, the power buried within her beloved must resurface.
And with it, brings about the attention of many great and terrible beings.
'Please…' Sylvia crossed her arms rubbing the side of her arms while closed her eyes.
'We are having a life together, away from the fantastical and pandemonium of the world. We are in our own little heaven and now it's going to go away. Please All-Father, one who hears all and sees all, the one who has the understanding of the first stars. Show me a way to protect him. I sincerely beseech of you.'
Unfortunately, it was all for naught. The All-Father will not hear her both due to his alienation from earthly matters and her own doing due to magical obscuration. She just wanted to pray to affirm herself just as she always did.
Once, the goddess would have done everything to make Asgard acknowledge her. But now she was done with that, -that was for herself of the present- she just wants her own slice of happiness, however little.
"If the faith and Those Who Sit Above in Shadow think they can stop me… Ha… Hahahahahahaha!"
Sylvia swerved as her dress began to change. Velvety verdant clothed her form, on her head, a crown of gold shaped antlers was placed. Draping a fur cape, Sylvia or rather, Loki smiled impishly.
"Then they haven't see the True Loki! This time, I'll be giving this my all."
As she headed out into the snow white world, she gave a small smile. 'It's time to wake one flaming bird up.'
Then in a haze of green, Loki vanished into the unknown.
If Wishes were Horses in the World of White…
Earth-616
Pedaling through the snow minted road, was much trickier than Abram thought. His bicycle was in pristine condition –thankfully due to his regular checkups- but the problem laid with piles of white ice spread all around.
The roads hasn't been cleared yet. The shoveling trucks couldn't make it due to all the commotions that has been happening this year, particularly the nation shaking event: the Civil War of Superhumans. If Abram remembers correctly.
But even so, this is a small town. Surely, the matters from the hot zones shouldn't affect this unknown part of the states, right?
"Guh, dammit!" Abram groaned. His front wheel stuck in depression that has been blanketed under the snow. Probably a heap on the road, or some form of indentation that has been hidden by the snow.
Hopping down. Abram raised his bicycle, giving the said tire a cursory look, heaving a sigh of relief that it hadn't punctured upon anything.
"Phew~ thank goodness. I was already wondering how I'll begin to separate money for this. Dullahan," The African-American said, petting the handle. "We still got a long road ahead of us, so don't you injure yourself."
The said Dullahan, could only remain silent. It was only an inanimate bicycle after all… Although, even if that fact was pointed out. Abram would vehemently deny that notion.
Dullahan exits, it, or rather he is real… Even if it's in Abram's heart!
Trudging through the snow, while he pulled his cycle through the handle. Abram made his way across the town baked in white. It was only when Abram had reached an intersession, did he see another figure resting against a wooden fence.
It was a figure he recognized.
"Yo, Kevin!" Abram called out, wincing as his voice resounded a bit louder than intended.
The boy addressed with the said name, pulled himself away from the barricade, whirling towards him.
"Abram." Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his green windbreaker, Kevin Green trudged towards him with a light smile.
16years old. Lanky, with a hair more orange than brown. Kevin Green was as strange as they come, and this is coming from someone who still couldn't explain the mechanism behind his girlfriend's super-strength.
Abram knew there was something that Kevin was hiding from him. But it isn't his place nor his right to figure out what it was. After all, he still wants to live a long life.
In this world, one is better off not knowing a few things, as those few things could literally get you dead.
Exhaling white fumes, the African-American raised his hands to which Kevin responded with a bro-handshake.
"Yeah, sorry I had to come in late."
Kevin waved his hand, breezily. "Allow me to guess. Sylvia."
At Kevin's knowing look, Abram couldn't help breaking into a goofy smile.
"Yep, made me something I couldn't help having a second serving."
"Lucky dog," Kevin commented with a playful jib. "Do you know how badly the others envy you? The guy who is dating the hottest girl in town."
"Which others?" Abram asked a little bit darkly.
But Kevin wasn't really surprised by that. One could even say it was cringe, when looked from an outside perspective. But Abram wasn't really well liked in the neighborhood. The fact the he looked different probably played one part, but the incident of 2years back made Abram a kind of societal pariah.
As they began heading for the Post-Office. Kevin clicked his teeth, while in thought. 'It's always the same, everywhere.'
Black-White-Mutants-Mutates-Aliens-Gods… There must always be one form of minority that doesn't want to move ahead with world. Your differences will be painfully highlighted for you and stamped upon your forehead.
A light whisper unheard by his friend who was still pulling his bike, flittered into the Christmas Eve morning.
Kevin Green's greatest secret. One known to only himself, his parents and three others would forever remain that… After what Tony Stark did to the others, he wouldn't take that risk. The ideals of the man in spangled suit was the correct one…
If only he wasn't a coward to hide from fighting for that ideal.
So they both carried on, a little dim in hearts. Absentmindedly listening to the carols of merry season ferrying them as they go.
"Alright, I've seen the papers, so it's now officially delivered." Mr. Ackerman said, placing the document down. On it were signatures for postal that were personally delivered to the addressed person, rather than just chucked into the mail.
This particular records weren't from Abram, they were in fact, from his presently fretting friend who was trying to make himself appear smaller from Boss's piercing eyes.
"Kevin, you idler! These was expected to have arrived yesterday, so can you please explain to me why is it that I'm receiving now on Christmas Eve?!"
"E-Eh~ you see, Boss, my brother…"
"You don't have a brother!" Mr. Ackerman howled, smacking his desk with enough force to make even the spectating Abram flinch.
Boss stood up, revealing his powerful frame which was only marred by his beer-belly. Folding his hairy arms, his thick brows furrowed.
"I'm only letting you off lightly…"
Kevin sighed in relief.
"By docking off your pay."
"What?! Bo-Boss, oh, come on!"
Abram sighed, nudging Kevin. "Better take it. You don't want him to give you that, right?"
"O-Oh." The brown brunette paled with an audible gulp. Now regarding Boss's face which displayed, how much he was considering doing just that.
"You know what. I think I'll like my pay being docked off. Thank you very much."
"Humph." Mr. Ackerman snorted.
Boss is really in a good mood for him to let Kevin get off this lightly. Wonder if his wife has a surprise him, back at home.
"Abram, here." Mr. Ackerman said. Tossing a brown beige envelope towards the 16year old.
Abram opened it up from its smaller end to see a clean stack of money inside. Giving it a quick count, his eyes widened a little as he saw that it was more than what he and Boss has agreed on.
"Hey, you're the only one who had the tenacity to go out in this cold, and give out the mails." Mr. Ackerman explained, turning away as he rubbed the back-base of his neck.
"So I reckoned that deserves a little extra… And, that's just a Christmas Bonus, so don't you feel grateful about it, kid."
A small smile spread out from Abram's lips. Nodding back, he pocketed his envelop while the figure of Mr. Ackerman slacked in relief.
Abram knew that this was Boss ways of helping out. As a result of the happenings on that day, things weren't exactly going easy for the African-American, rather things took an awful turn.
He couldn't continue school, because of lack of refunds –he strangely was unable to secure a scholarship no matter how hard he tried- and then there was the stares. The looks and the whispers just made school unbearable, so he decided to just quit it altogether…
Not like there was anyone left to tell him to keep on at it…
But thankfully, there was Mr. Ackerman. He was among the few that came on that day. Boss would later on, be sending Abram on errands while giving him more than what was agreed on.
When asked why? Boss would throw a fit as he gave silly excuses as to why he had did so.
But Abram knew why he did so, or at least, Mr. Ackerman intentions behind his actions. And the orphan would always be grateful for that.
Kevin smiled at the scene. The auburn already knew what was going on, and he doesn't have any objections on that matter, although…
"Uhm, Boss~" Kevin incanted, rubbing his hands subserviently. "Like you just said it's Christmas, so I was wondering if, you know…"
He rubbed his thumb and index, while suggestively raising and dropping his brows. He too wanted some Christmas Bonus, dammit… But Boss meanwhile wasn't impressed at all.
"Ahem. Kevin Green, are you saying that you also want your Christmas Bonus, as well?" Mr. Ackerman asked with a bright smile.
Kevin bobbed sharply.
"Then…" Mr. Ackerman's smile turned dark. "You will have no problem doing that, right?"
Kevin turned pale white.
"Eh? Ahahahahaha! You know what, Boss, I just remembered my horoscope this morning. It told me that I shouldn't be accepting any form of payment, so please no need for any Christmas Bonus. Rather, I don't want it!"
With a fatherly smile, Mr. Ackerman nodded back to Kevin who had begun shedding tears. "Alright, I understand."
Abram meanwhile covered his face while his entire frame shook with mirth. Kevin and Mr. Ackerman's antics sometimes deserved an Oscar award.
Just like right now…
"Hah~!"
Abram chuckled at the slouched form of Kevin, who was actually behind, despite the African-American being the one who was pulling his cycle.
"Oh, come on. No need to be so sulky. Who knows, maybe Boss might not deduct anything in the end."
Raising a brow, Kevin asked skeptically. "And has there actually been any precedence on that matter?"
"Ah, ehm. No."
"There you have it. Ah~ seems like I ain't gonna' be getting that console this year."
Huffing in amusement, Abram couldn't help but find it funny about his friend's luck. Every single time Kevin was about to get something he always wants, there would always be one thing or the other preventing him from getting it.
In most cases, his excuses were even worse than Boss's own!
"Well, there'll be better luck next time." Abram consoled his friend.
Sighing, Kevin stuffed his hands into his windbreaker, kicking off a pile of snow. "So what are you gonna' be doing today?"
"Me?" Abram asked lethargically, before yawing. "I'm just gonna' chillax back on my couch, and cuddle up with Sylvia. There isn't much to do under this weather, best to spend it near the fire."
Kevin wordlessly nodded, before coming to a stop. They were already at the same intercession, they met before. Time for the brunette to go.
"If what I'm about to do ends quickly. I'm gonna' come visit."
Abram gave a lopsided smile. "Yeah, I'll ask Sylvia to prepare you something delish."
"My man… Later?"
"Yeah, later."
With a high-five and a fist-bump, both friends went their separate ways. Although deep in their hearts, they both had a sinking feeling that… This was the last time they would ever meet this way.
Kevin Green walked some more distance under snow, the chilled white pilling on his beanie which he brushed back. Looking around, he spotted an empty alley to which he noiselessly entered.
"Jeez, it's really cold. Seriously, kudos to Abram for the morning run. He really is one heck of a guy, I don't think I could do the same even if I forced myself to... Now then."
Kevin cracked his fingers, "Let's get started."
With a quick concentration, Kevin's gift came to bare. It was a mutation of sorts, although the world called people with his kind of gift, a 'Mutate' rather than a 'Mutant'. But Kevin just saw it as semantics –there was no difference- After all, his own power had been with him since his birth.
Liquid flesh spilled out beneath his cloths, from his stomach. Enveloping him, granting him a new persona. The 16year of 5ft, grew into a strapping older man of over 7ft. Liquid flesh made way for a suit of red and gold, with a ruby cape.
Power that enabled the 16year old to tango with the Hulk and Juggernaut, coursed within him.
Kevin or rather Prime, smirked as he crouched a little. His heavy frame digging into the snow.
"Up, up… And away!"
Not a moment later, a shockwave was last seen as the kid-superhero made his way for the big city. A light grumbling murmur was made before Prime made into the stratosphere.
"Whatever Fury must be calling me for better be worth it."
"A plane?" Abram commented, somewhat confused as that hadn't been there before.
Upon the plain white filament, a visible line was seen parting away the clouds at a high speed. Abram reckons that it might be a plane or something of that sort. Maybe it was even a supe going about his or her way.
The world already has more than enough sound-barrier breakers, to prove that.
Well, it doesn't concerns him, so he wouldn't put any much thought into it. Raising his scarf to provide his neck warmth against the chill in the air. Abram shivered, as he pushed his cycle with more gusto in a bid to get home.
Thankfully, the snow below must have gotten smaller, at this part of municipality -seeing that he took another path in heading home- Abram let out a small whoop as he climbed upon his bicycle, and began slowly pedaling.
After all, one has to be careful even when the coast seems clear…
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
It has been said that when destiny calls, it has always been unexpected. Coincidences, luck, and a bit of providence from the powers above. A form of cosmic joke, I call it.
When it came calling into my life, I had lost everything in an instant.
And gained much the next.
Within my psyche, in a realm of eldritch like flames. Sited upon a throne of skulls and bones, IT lifted up its head, and growled. It's time of reemergence was coming sooner than it thought. But that wasn't a problem…
Rather, it slowly stood up from its macabre throne, as the realm shook in tremor, and its seal trembled due to its fading effectiveness.
Let the world quiver and shake, as First Born of ststﬓﬕ, graces its presence once again.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
Abram would later say, that it began with a certain heat around the upper base of his chest. A hand went to feel that the ruby necklet given to him by Mr. Lee, years ago, grow strangely warm.
In puzzlement, Abram pulled out his necklace to check what was wrong, only to gasp in alarm at what he saw. The ruby-like cross was giving off a luminous glow. Audibly swallowing, Abram was about to pull it off, before he then heard a holler that doused him in a chill more frigid than the present ambiance.
It was a cry similar to ' that' day.
"Hey, get him! He's just like those freaks!"
"No, I'm not!"
"Kill him! Kill him before he brings back the Mutant Infection!"
It was just like a caricature of that day. Abram stood frozen by the side of the street as a mob chased a young boy with murderous intention in their eyes.
His mouth hung open as it was happening all over again.
'Why?' Abram thought in horrid confusion. 'God! Don't this people have something better to do in this freezing morning? Are humans always like this?'
A thin red thread spilled from his lips. Abram hadn't realized that he had bitten his lips, hard enough to draw blood. Unlike before, the boy had realized that this bloodthirsty mob didn't consist of the Purifiers. But that didn't make them any less deadly than the terrorist group.
'He's even younger than her.' Abram thought, as he watched a blonde 10year old with oscillating glowing eyes, cry in fear, running pass him.
Looking at the crowd, Abram knew that it wouldn't take long for them to catch him. It was obvious what he had to do… But he was so afraid to take the first step.
Heart beating so fast, he could hardly hear himself. Abram let out a ragged breathe as he closed his eyes… And turned the other way. It was a small thought that had always stayed with him ever since his father laid in grave in the town's public graveyard.
What if, Dad never did help the little girl?
It was horrible of Abram to think so, as he knew what that exactly entails. But surely, that thought had come to him every once in a blue moon… Dad would still be alive.
'But then, I'll be living the rest of my life with my head bowed in shame.'
To Abram, it felt like time had just unilaterally stopped. Before him dressed in his blue cop outfit, his Dad stood before him wearing a gentle smile.
"Da-Dad?"
The phantom-like image seemingly closed his eyes, as he pulled down his hat. Smiling at his son.
'Hey, son…'
Abram's eyes grew heavy and blurred, as tears slowly cascaded. He knew, Abram just knew that the one who stood before him wasn't real. But still… Covering his eyes, Abram couldn't stop the sobbing that escaped from his lips.
'Abram. I won't say that I don't regret leaving you behind.' His calloused hands gripped his hat tightly, as Adams looked his son forlornly.
'When that… That bullet had bit me. I couldn't help feeling like I've failed you as a father. After all, you're supposed to bury me, when you're finally ready to face life on your own. Now, I have to go meet your mother with knowledge that I've left our kid in the big bad world by himself…'
Tears fell down from the father who left his child in tears.
'I'm so sorry, son. I'm so, so sorry…'
What was Abram supposed to say to that? Scream, rage, cry… No, he couldn't do either of what had been listed. He could only listen quietly as his father continued to talk.
'But son, now that I look back. I can say that I've never regretted it. I do not regret helping that kid. And so do you…'
Fist clenched tight, as Abram didn't have any refute for that. Dad is right about that. Even back then; when he had those cruel thoughts, when asking himself that if he was once again given that girl's hand to take and run away with from those psychopaths. Would he take it or not?
Abram would frustratingly realize that his answer hadn't changed.
He would still help her, again and again…
"But I've got people that I worry about!" Abram screamed hysterically, to the image of his Father.
"Sylvia! Kevin! Who knows if something might happen to them due to the crazy mob taking their grievances on me, and they get caught up in it. I don't think I can take losing anyone else. Isn't walking away the much safer option?"
'But do you feel it's right?'
"What?" Abram pupils widened. He opened his mouth to answer in affirmative only to realize that no sound came out, no matter he forced himself to say it.
His decision is the safe one. There was no other way to go about it. But it wasn't the right one… Could Abram really live with himself knowing there was something he could do to help.
"Hah… Hahahahaha… It's not fair, Dad." Abram said resigned to his father. "You're telling me to…"
Abram couldn't complete it. Sighing he closed his eyes, trying to sink into the silence. And then his Dad decided to ask that question.
'Abram, tell me what you're expected to be looking at, right now?'
"I… I've got it Dad." Abram opened his eyes. Eyes that brightened with determination. "I know what to do… And thanks, for always being there, Dad."
'Anytime, son. Anytime.'
Time resumed back, and Abram spun his wheels back towards the danger. A son brimming with the legacy of his father.
'That's my kid.'
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
Jeffery Garret never believed in miracles. The boy knew that the world wasn't fair at all. An everyday child to a father and mother, Jeffery always had the view that life was so simple. It wasn't a lie that sometimes, he would always want more than the lot he had.
But seriously, which little boy didn't. The Heroes and Villains. The beams and the magical circles… Jeffery had always dreamt of being among the crazies. Doing cool stuffs, beating up the bad guys, and saving the day.
But looking back, Jeffery wished that he could just, maybe, wish this all away so that 'this' could never had happened…
It all started when he found out that he had superpowers. Teleportation to be exact. While he had been happy at first, Jeffery couldn't deny that he felt fear that his parents might abandon him as a result of his Mutation.
But thankfully, that wasn't the case.
Both his Dad and Mom hugged him, even though their faces displayed fears about the future. His big brother and sister on the other hand, were quite excited about his powers. His parents had made him promise to never use his powers, publicly.
Jeffery had readily and happily agreed to that.
After all, while teleportation might have sounded cool at first. That is all there is to it. He doesn't even know any far place to go to, anyway.
But it seems like when you become one of the crazies, there was nothing you can do to escape from your 'archenemy' of sorts. Somehow, in some way, someone had gotten wind of his Mutation, and kidnapped his entire family, and himself to an estate Alaska.
Things just spiraled down from there.
Everyone was killed. Dad, Mom, Big Bro, and Sis, all died before Jeffery's eyes, all on the orders of that man. Elias Bogan. Never had Jeffery truly hated someone as much as he hated that man. And all his tries for vengeance were all for naught.
It seems like Elias Bogan was also a Mutant. Every time Jeffery would try teleporting that man to the most dangerous place he could think of, his head would be struck by a ringing headache. It was only till an opportune moment came, that Jeffery would use to escape away from that prison…
Although, not without sending Elias Bogan associates to a glacier for them to freeze to death.
Was that really ok? As a boy of just 12years, was it ok to kill those men. Jeffery would gladly say, yes . Yes, and if he could do it again, he would happily do it.
Jeffery had thought that he would be free from that nightmare, after his escape into the wider world. That the lodge was nothing more than a bad dream. But it seems like Elias Bogan was more vindictive than Jeffery expected him to be.
He had been wanted for murder, with a count that included even his own family.
The rest was just like a haze. He had to seek asylum at the Xavier Institute to escape from the authorities who were on the side of a murderer, and was looked after by Emma Frost. And even then, Elias Bogan had still followed him to the Institute.
Why? Even till this day, he never had the faintest idea.
But it was only by the luck that the monster had been successfully repelled.
Jeffery had thought it was finally over. That he can finally experience some form of peace in the Institute. But really, it seems like he shouldn't be putting much in concepts like ' hope' or ' expectations.' They hurt even more when they fail you, in the end.
Jeffery Garret had supposedly died in a terrorist attack.
The former X-Man, Xorn, had attacked the Institute posing as Magneto. Jeffery had disregarded orders for escape, to retrieve the last memento of his family: an image depicting his family, how he remembers them. But then, before he could escape, the school blew up with Jeffery with it.
In a way, Jeffery was happy to be done with life. The world of the crazies were not for him. But in the end, it seems like his Mutation was more tenacious that he thought. Apparently, he was now capable of surviving on, only this time, as a ghost.
After some shenanigans, Jeffery had resumed classes like normal. How was that possible? But it was as Jeffery had said, it was the world of crazies to which he is now a part of.
But let it not be said that life didn't have its own way of playing a joke. Jeffery Garret had once again died, but only this time it felt permanent. One second he was there, the next, a painful feeling of something being pulled out of him, and then Jeffery felt his existence being erased.
Jeffery thought that was the end. He had experienced life at its fullest. Now was the time to meet the others. But even death seems to reject him, nowadays.
After an unknown spell, Jeffery Garret found himself inhabiting a new body. How was that even possible?! He thought he was finally dead, but here he was once again in the land of the living… And still a kid, it seems.
One thing led to the other, and here he was being chased by a bunch of Mutant-Haters. Jeffery Garret was really tired of the hand life was treating him.
In fact, if he was so tired why was he so desperately running away?
That thought halted Jeffery, as his running gait slowed down, dangerously. Perspiring sweat that was cold due to the ambient environment. The Mutant gazed back at the crowd that held all sorts of objects, seeking to commit macabre acts to a harmless child.
Both his first and second deaths were so sudden and quick, Jeffery never had the time to process it. But this time, Jeffery decided that he was going out on his own terms. To say he wasn't afraid was a big lie. Tears flowed out, his leg quivered, and shook, and the sudden urge to just cover himself. The turbulent emotions running in him were enough to drive him mad.
Jeffery Garret is afraid to die…
But maybe this time, he can finally rest.
"Gotcha, you little prick!" A hand clamped his arm painfully, as Jeffery was jerked towards a fetid smelling man. "Your body-parts are about to make me a very rich man. Do you know how rare your kind are nowadays? I'll… Burgh!"
A fist manifested from nowhere, crashing against the cheek of the fetid smelling man. Like a string, the homeless dressed man fell down straight.
"Hey, get on!"
Jeffery looked to the side, to see a young African-American on a bicycle extending his hand. He had a quivering smile that seemed so sincere, it drew Jeffery from his coma-like state. Hand that shook as the boy looked back towards the hollering crowd, extended for Jeffery's sake.
The blond Mutant couldn't remember how he had took the boy's hand. As Jeffery was settled in front of the boy who let out a cry as he pedaled away.
It was a battle-like cry that sounded so revolting… It was a cry that contained the kind of spirit, Jeffery envied.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
"Dammit, these bastards are really out for blood."
Swerving to the side, Abram avoided a broken wood that had just been lobbed at him. Abram couldn't afford to place the boy at the back, so he had to stay in the front. But as a result of that, Abram could only drive with one of his hands, while the other held the boy.
A stone harshly kissed his ear, with a decibel tang smashed against a metal pole. Letting out a fearful cry, Abram could feel his heart beating fast while he gritted his teeth.
"Don't you dare underestimate me! Do you know how many times I've ridden around this god-damn town?!"
Holding the blonde kid who let out a yelp. Abram roared, pedaling so fast, the 16years old was sure that by today's end, he would be thinking of replacing a busted tire…
That is if he sees today's end.
"No, don't think that, Abram." The African-American shook his head. "You'll see it. Just forget about everything else and pedal! Pedal! Pedal! Gwooooooo!"
His hand clenched the handle, as he passed by familiar streets with dangerous speed, taking curves that would result to injuries, if he mess up… Well, those fuckers behind him wouldn't give him a second chance anyway…
Giving a ragged sigh, Abram realized that he had inherited his Dad's bad behavior of cussing when things look really rough. But at this point, can he really be blamed?
Christmas colors, and the white-minted streets turned into blurs. Instinct took over, as Abram used his knowledge of the roads to his advantage. It didn't take long for the death-calling crowd hollers to disappear into the chill winds.
Still not satisfied with that, Abram decided to at least pedal away from town to be sure. Looking down at the quiet kid, Abram asked softly. "Hey, you there."
The African-American answered with a nod. Sighing, Abram continued. "Sorry about the rough ride. Not really a first class rider, but at least, we're away from the bad guys. So what's your name, kid?"
"… … Jeffery. Jeffery Garret."
"Well, I'm Abram. Abram Adams. Don't have time for a shake, time constraints and all."
Gradually, the full throttle reduced to casual speeds. Abram slowed down as the world regained its vividness. He had just passed the sign pointing to his town, but, it seems like he won't be coming back so soon.
'Hopefully, they didn't see me or anything… Haaah~ who am I kidding. I'm the only black kid in the neighborhood… This isn't gonna' be funny when I get back.' Abram sighed.
With this, Abram knew he had to push his plans closer than he wanted.
He had been desiring to get out of that town for a long time, but couldn't due to lack of funds. No, that was incorrect. His Dad had a small suitcase of money in a compartment down the basement, but he had wanted to save that money to get an apartment by the time he was 18.
A small rural community, away from the madness of the world, away from everything. He could get a simple job, while Sylvia would get to do whatever she wants to do. Of course, Abram would miss people here, but hell, the numbers he really missed wouldn't count pass one of his hand.
Besides, it's not they can't come visit.
But with this debacle, he had to get his exodus done quicker than he wanted.
"I just hope Sylvia isn't too mad at me." Abram moaned, before letting out a contrite laugh. "And to think that my former worries were to just get out of the cold, and rest at home."
But Abram knew that he couldn't just look the other way. That wasn't the values he was taught. Abram's Dad might not be capable of pulling down planets, or causing tectonic shifts with his punches. But he did teach Abram something better than all that. Values.
Meanwhile, the silence continued before Jeffery decided to ask the question that had been bothering him a lot. "Hey, Abram. Why did you help me?"
Abram was about to give a simple reply, but he then felt the kid shiver in his grip. Eyes widened slightly, Abram realized that this boy was experiencing exactly what that girl was going through. What he had felt when they had put his Dad into the earth.
It was honestly, just sick to think about.
Pulling away his scarf, Abram wrapped it around Jeffery's neck to provide him warmth and ruffle his hair.
"Why did I help you?" Abram repeated as if he was questioning himself at the same time.
"Well, this shucks. I just can't think of even one reason at all. Just that, I don't think I have it in me to sleep soundly in the night, if I hear a kid like you cry and did nothing else. You aren't supposed to suffering. I don't know about your parents, but I'm sure that they too wouldn't want to see their champ suffering, either."
Jeffery's hand pressed against the scarf, feeling the feeble warmth it provided. But at that moment, it was more than enough. More than warmth, the Super-powered Institution provided. More than the warmth, his Mutation could ever give him. For the first time since forever…
Jeffery Garret felt safe.
Abram groaned giving his neck a few pops. "I've gotta' thank Boss, the next time I see him for that envelop. I think I'll book a room at the motel a few kilometers away from here, and then call in with Sylvia to tell the rest. So, Jeffery, you hungry?"
"Hmm."
Abram smiled. "What do you fancy gobbling up, this moment?"
"Pizza with cheese sprinkles."
"Eh, I haven't gone to Mgdonald's fast food restaurant in a while, so I'll just hope that they have what your majesty commands."
To that Jeffery let out a small chuckle, to which Abram just shook his head good-naturedly.
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
In a way, it had seemed like the nightmare was over. I only had a bare plan, a nascent one even. But the future wasn't so bleak that I couldn't see a few feet away.
I didn't know what to do with Jeffery, but I reckoned that he would stay with us for a while. At least before the X-Men come pick him up. Even though that didn't seem possible due to Decimation Day. But worrying for the future was for the future me, the present me just had to get him to safety.
If only it was that simple. But as they say: If wishes were horses…
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
The quiet travel was interrupted by the sounded glass cracking. Abram turned behind, and froze at the sight that was occurring behind him.
Over some few metres away, and some feet above the ground. A large section of space? Seemed to be darkening, as the sound of machinery followed soon after.
"Run…" Jeffery whispered in fear, prompting the African-American to notice that the blonde eyes were dilated in terror.
"What's going on, Jeffery?"
"Run, before it catches unto us!"
Hearing Jeffery's hysterical screaming, spurred Abram to heave and groan as he began to pedal away. Securing Jeffery once more, while ignoring the wincing pain of his arms and thighs, Abram pushed himself as he tried to get away from the strange but eerie scene.
"It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming….."
"What's coming?"
"The time-travelling Mutant Hunter, Nimrod."
Abram didn't know what 'Nimrod' was. But the name filled him with so much dread that his legs pushed down with a little more oomph.
Unknowingly to all. The ruby cross on Abram's chest glowed, and Abram's eyes lit up with a verdant hue… IT was coming once again.
The Goddess of Mischief narrowed her eyes, as she traversed down the hallway soaked in a darkness that felt too heavy to be comprehended.
'By Odin's beard. I took too much time in handling those fools outside.' Wiping away the line of blood that trialed down her lips, Loki ignored the wincing pain in stomach due to broken ribs, as she continued on without pause.
Outside the cave in which Loki entered, the frigid plains of Jötunheimr. Hundreds of Ice Giants corpses piled upon themselves, to once again become one with their mother Ymir.
Loki would have allowed them to live, if they would had just granted her passage to the secret cavern. But their pride as an estranged tribe away from rule of Laufey, made them too big headed to recognize their superior. And also, the Goddess didn't have the time to play along.
So Loki decided to employ Thor's method of diplomacy –at least before he gained additional brain cells- fighting. The result was plain as day, even though they did score a hit or two.
"I swear on All-Father's throne, if I'm late once again to my beloved side, the Ice Giants shall forever be among my 'shit' list."
Giving a light chuckle, Loki continued on until she reached the wall at the end of the tunnel. To some, this might be the end, but to Loki, she knew of what was hidden behind it.
Her hand went behind her back, as she produced a vial of blood. The blood of her beloved. Opening its cap, Loki spilled the contents against the wall, which suddenly reacted with the manifestation of a tongue of fire!
It grew taking shape. Wings of flame flapped away the special chill of Jötunheimr, talons clenched tightly in a predatory manner, and a beak opened to a soundless caw. It was a gate to the bird of life's resting place.
"I really don't want you with him, even though you were the first. But I figure that for my, no, 'our' beloved. We can go beyond our posts. So what do you say, great Phoenix?"
Bright white eyes starred at Loki for a minute, before it enveloped her and vanished…
Pedaling through the snow minted road, was much trickier than Abram thought. His bicycle was in pristine condition –thankfully due to his regular checkups- but the problem laid with piles of white ice spread all around.
The roads hasn't been cleared yet. The shoveling trucks couldn't make it due to all the commotions that has been happening this year, particularly the nation shaking event: the Civil War of Superhumans. If Abram remembers correctly.
But even so, this is a small town. Surely, the matters from the hot zones shouldn't affect this unknown part of the states, right?
"Guh, dammit!" Abram groaned. His front wheel stuck in depression that has been blanketed under the snow. Probably a heap on the road, or some form of indentation that has been hidden by the snow.
Hopping down. Abram raised his bicycle, giving the said tire a cursory look, heaving a sigh of relief that it hadn't punctured upon anything.
"Phew~ thank goodness. I was already wondering how I'll begin to separate money for this. Dullahan," The African-American said, petting the handle. "We still got a long road ahead of us, so don't you injure yourself."
The said Dullahan, could only remain silent. It was only an inanimate bicycle after all… Although, even if that fact was pointed out. Abram would vehemently deny that notion.
Dullahan exits, it, or rather he is real… Even if it's in Abram's heart!
Trudging through the snow, while he pulled his cycle through the handle. Abram made his way across the town baked in white. It was only when Abram had reached an intersession, did he see another figure resting against a wooden fence.
It was a figure he recognized.
"Yo, Kevin!" Abram called out, wincing as his voice resounded a bit louder than intended.
The boy addressed with the said name, pulled himself away from the barricade, whirling towards him.
"Abram." Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his green windbreaker, Kevin Green trudged towards him with a light smile.
16years old. Lanky, with a hair more orange than brown. Kevin Green was as strange as they come, and this is coming from someone who still couldn't explain the mechanism behind his girlfriend's super-strength.
Abram knew there was something that Kevin was hiding from him. But it isn't his place nor his right to figure out what it was. After all, he still wants to live a long life.
In this world, one is better off not knowing a few things, as those few things could literally get you dead.
Exhaling white fumes, the African-American raised his hands to which Kevin responded with a bro-handshake.
"Yeah, sorry I had to come in late."
Kevin waved his hand, breezily. "Allow me to guess. Sylvia."
At Kevin's knowing look, Abram couldn't help breaking into a goofy smile.
"Yep, made me something I couldn't help having a second serving."
"Lucky dog," Kevin commented with a playful jib. "Do you know how badly the others envy you? The guy who is dating the hottest girl in town."
"Which others?" Abram asked a little bit darkly.
But Kevin wasn't really surprised by that. One could even say it was cringe, when looked from an outside perspective. But Abram wasn't really well liked in the neighborhood. The fact the he looked different probably played one part, but the incident of 2years back made Abram a kind of societal pariah.
As they began heading for the Post-Office. Kevin clicked his teeth, while in thought. 'It's always the same, everywhere.'
Black-White-Mutants-Mutates-Aliens-Gods… There must always be one form of minority that doesn't want to move ahead with world. Your differences will be painfully highlighted for you and stamped upon your forehead.
A light whisper unheard by his friend who was still pulling his bike, flittered into the Christmas Eve morning.
"Even I, too… "
Kevin Green's greatest secret. One known to only himself, his parents and three others would forever remain that… After what Tony Stark did to the others, he wouldn't take that risk. The ideals of the man in spangled suit was the correct one…
If only he wasn't a coward to hide from fighting for that ideal.
So they both carried on, a little dim in hearts. Absentmindedly listening to the carols of merry season ferrying them as they go.
Ω
"Alright, I've seen the papers, so it's now officially delivered." Mr. Ackerman said, placing the document down. On it were signatures for postal that were personally delivered to the addressed person, rather than just chucked into the mail.
This particular records weren't from Abram, they were in fact, from his presently fretting friend who was trying to make himself appear smaller from Boss's piercing eyes.
"Kevin, you idler! These was expected to have arrived yesterday, so can you please explain to me why is it that I'm receiving now on Christmas Eve?!"
"E-Eh~ you see, Boss, my brother…"
"You don't have a brother!" Mr. Ackerman howled, smacking his desk with enough force to make even the spectating Abram flinch.
Boss stood up, revealing his powerful frame which was only marred by his beer-belly. Folding his hairy arms, his thick brows furrowed.
"I'm only letting you off lightly…"
Kevin sighed in relief.
"By docking off your pay."
"What?! Bo-Boss, oh, come on!"
Abram sighed, nudging Kevin. "Better take it. You don't want him to give you that, right?"
"O-Oh." The brown brunette paled with an audible gulp. Now regarding Boss's face which displayed, how much he was considering doing just that.
"You know what. I think I'll like my pay being docked off. Thank you very much."
"Humph." Mr. Ackerman snorted.
Boss is really in a good mood for him to let Kevin get off this lightly. Wonder if his wife has a surprise him, back at home.
"Abram, here." Mr. Ackerman said. Tossing a brown beige envelope towards the 16year old.
Abram opened it up from its smaller end to see a clean stack of money inside. Giving it a quick count, his eyes widened a little as he saw that it was more than what he and Boss has agreed on.
"Hey, you're the only one who had the tenacity to go out in this cold, and give out the mails." Mr. Ackerman explained, turning away as he rubbed the back-base of his neck.
"So I reckoned that deserves a little extra… And, that's just a Christmas Bonus, so don't you feel grateful about it, kid."
A small smile spread out from Abram's lips. Nodding back, he pocketed his envelop while the figure of Mr. Ackerman slacked in relief.
Abram knew that this was Boss ways of helping out. As a result of the happenings on that day, things weren't exactly going easy for the African-American, rather things took an awful turn.
He couldn't continue school, because of lack of refunds –he strangely was unable to secure a scholarship no matter how hard he tried- and then there was the stares. The looks and the whispers just made school unbearable, so he decided to just quit it altogether…
Not like there was anyone left to tell him to keep on at it…
But thankfully, there was Mr. Ackerman. He was among the few that came on that day. Boss would later on, be sending Abram on errands while giving him more than what was agreed on.
When asked why? Boss would throw a fit as he gave silly excuses as to why he had did so.
But Abram knew why he did so, or at least, Mr. Ackerman intentions behind his actions. And the orphan would always be grateful for that.
Kevin smiled at the scene. The auburn already knew what was going on, and he doesn't have any objections on that matter, although…
"Uhm, Boss~" Kevin incanted, rubbing his hands subserviently. "Like you just said it's Christmas, so I was wondering if, you know…"
He rubbed his thumb and index, while suggestively raising and dropping his brows. He too wanted some Christmas Bonus, dammit… But Boss meanwhile wasn't impressed at all.
"Ahem. Kevin Green, are you saying that you also want your Christmas Bonus, as well?" Mr. Ackerman asked with a bright smile.
Kevin bobbed sharply.
"Then…" Mr. Ackerman's smile turned dark. "You will have no problem doing that, right?"
Kevin turned pale white.
"Eh? Ahahahahaha! You know what, Boss, I just remembered my horoscope this morning. It told me that I shouldn't be accepting any form of payment, so please no need for any Christmas Bonus. Rather, I don't want it!"
With a fatherly smile, Mr. Ackerman nodded back to Kevin who had begun shedding tears. "Alright, I understand."
Abram meanwhile covered his face while his entire frame shook with mirth. Kevin and Mr. Ackerman's antics sometimes deserved an Oscar award.
Just like right now…
Ω
"Hah~!"
Abram chuckled at the slouched form of Kevin, who was actually behind, despite the African-American being the one who was pulling his cycle.
"Oh, come on. No need to be so sulky. Who knows, maybe Boss might not deduct anything in the end."
Raising a brow, Kevin asked skeptically. "And has there actually been any precedence on that matter?"
"Ah, ehm. No."
"There you have it. Ah~ seems like I ain't gonna' be getting that console this year."
Huffing in amusement, Abram couldn't help but find it funny about his friend's luck. Every single time Kevin was about to get something he always wants, there would always be one thing or the other preventing him from getting it.
In most cases, his excuses were even worse than Boss's own!
"Well, there'll be better luck next time." Abram consoled his friend.
Sighing, Kevin stuffed his hands into his windbreaker, kicking off a pile of snow. "So what are you gonna' be doing today?"
"Me?" Abram asked lethargically, before yawing. "I'm just gonna' chillax back on my couch, and cuddle up with Sylvia. There isn't much to do under this weather, best to spend it near the fire."
Kevin wordlessly nodded, before coming to a stop. They were already at the same intercession, they met before. Time for the brunette to go.
"If what I'm about to do ends quickly. I'm gonna' come visit."
Abram gave a lopsided smile. "Yeah, I'll ask Sylvia to prepare you something delish."
"My man… Later?"
"Yeah, later."
With a high-five and a fist-bump, both friends went their separate ways. Although deep in their hearts, they both had a sinking feeling that… This was the last time they would ever meet this way.
Ω
Kevin Green walked some more distance under snow, the chilled white pilling on his beanie which he brushed back. Looking around, he spotted an empty alley to which he noiselessly entered.
"Jeez, it's really cold. Seriously, kudos to Abram for the morning run. He really is one heck of a guy, I don't think I could do the same even if I forced myself to... Now then."
Kevin cracked his fingers, "Let's get started."
With a quick concentration, Kevin's gift came to bare. It was a mutation of sorts, although the world called people with his kind of gift, a 'Mutate' rather than a 'Mutant'. But Kevin just saw it as semantics –there was no difference- After all, his own power had been with him since his birth.
Liquid flesh spilled out beneath his cloths, from his stomach. Enveloping him, granting him a new persona. The 16year of 5ft, grew into a strapping older man of over 7ft. Liquid flesh made way for a suit of red and gold, with a ruby cape.
Power that enabled the 16year old to tango with the Hulk and Juggernaut, coursed within him.
Kevin or rather Prime, smirked as he crouched a little. His heavy frame digging into the snow.
"Up, up… And away!"
Not a moment later, a shockwave was last seen as the kid-superhero made his way for the big city. A light grumbling murmur was made before Prime made into the stratosphere.
"Whatever Fury must be calling me for better be worth it."
Ω
"A plane?" Abram commented, somewhat confused as that hadn't been there before.
Upon the plain white filament, a visible line was seen parting away the clouds at a high speed. Abram reckons that it might be a plane or something of that sort. Maybe it was even a supe going about his or her way.
The world already has more than enough sound-barrier breakers, to prove that.
Well, it doesn't concerns him, so he wouldn't put any much thought into it. Raising his scarf to provide his neck warmth against the chill in the air. Abram shivered, as he pushed his cycle with more gusto in a bid to get home.
Thankfully, the snow below must have gotten smaller, at this part of municipality -seeing that he took another path in heading home- Abram let out a small whoop as he climbed upon his bicycle, and began slowly pedaling.
After all, one has to be careful even when the coast seems clear…
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
It has been said that when destiny calls, it has always been unexpected. Coincidences, luck, and a bit of providence from the powers above. A form of cosmic joke, I call it.
When it came calling into my life, I had lost everything in an instant.
And gained much the next.
Within my psyche, in a realm of eldritch like flames. Sited upon a throne of skulls and bones, IT lifted up its head, and growled. It's time of reemergence was coming sooner than it thought. But that wasn't a problem…
Rather, it slowly stood up from its macabre throne, as the realm shook in tremor, and its seal trembled due to its fading effectiveness.
Let the world quiver and shake, as First Born of ststﬓﬕ, graces its presence once again.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
- Spawn Ω Archetype-
Abram would later say, that it began with a certain heat around the upper base of his chest. A hand went to feel that the ruby necklet given to him by Mr. Lee, years ago, grow strangely warm.
In puzzlement, Abram pulled out his necklace to check what was wrong, only to gasp in alarm at what he saw. The ruby-like cross was giving off a luminous glow. Audibly swallowing, Abram was about to pull it off, before he then heard a holler that doused him in a chill more frigid than the present ambiance.
It was a cry similar to ' that' day.
"Hey, get him! He's just like those freaks!"
"No, I'm not!"
"Kill him! Kill him before he brings back the Mutant Infection!"
It was just like a caricature of that day. Abram stood frozen by the side of the street as a mob chased a young boy with murderous intention in their eyes.
His mouth hung open as it was happening all over again.
'Why?' Abram thought in horrid confusion. 'God! Don't this people have something better to do in this freezing morning? Are humans always like this?'
A thin red thread spilled from his lips. Abram hadn't realized that he had bitten his lips, hard enough to draw blood. Unlike before, the boy had realized that this bloodthirsty mob didn't consist of the Purifiers. But that didn't make them any less deadly than the terrorist group.
'He's even younger than her.' Abram thought, as he watched a blonde 10year old with oscillating glowing eyes, cry in fear, running pass him.
Looking at the crowd, Abram knew that it wouldn't take long for them to catch him. It was obvious what he had to do… But he was so afraid to take the first step.
Heart beating so fast, he could hardly hear himself. Abram let out a ragged breathe as he closed his eyes… And turned the other way. It was a small thought that had always stayed with him ever since his father laid in grave in the town's public graveyard.
What if, Dad never did help the little girl?
It was horrible of Abram to think so, as he knew what that exactly entails. But surely, that thought had come to him every once in a blue moon… Dad would still be alive.
'But then, I'll be living the rest of my life with my head bowed in shame.'
To Abram, it felt like time had just unilaterally stopped. Before him dressed in his blue cop outfit, his Dad stood before him wearing a gentle smile.
"Da-Dad?"
The phantom-like image seemingly closed his eyes, as he pulled down his hat. Smiling at his son.
'Hey, son…'
Abram's eyes grew heavy and blurred, as tears slowly cascaded. He knew, Abram just knew that the one who stood before him wasn't real. But still… Covering his eyes, Abram couldn't stop the sobbing that escaped from his lips.
'Abram. I won't say that I don't regret leaving you behind.' His calloused hands gripped his hat tightly, as Adams looked his son forlornly.
'When that… That bullet had bit me. I couldn't help feeling like I've failed you as a father. After all, you're supposed to bury me, when you're finally ready to face life on your own. Now, I have to go meet your mother with knowledge that I've left our kid in the big bad world by himself…'
Tears fell down from the father who left his child in tears.
'I'm so sorry, son. I'm so, so sorry…'
What was Abram supposed to say to that? Scream, rage, cry… No, he couldn't do either of what had been listed. He could only listen quietly as his father continued to talk.
'But son, now that I look back. I can say that I've never regretted it. I do not regret helping that kid. And so do you…'
Fist clenched tight, as Abram didn't have any refute for that. Dad is right about that. Even back then; when he had those cruel thoughts, when asking himself that if he was once again given that girl's hand to take and run away with from those psychopaths. Would he take it or not?
Abram would frustratingly realize that his answer hadn't changed.
He would still help her, again and again…
"But I've got people that I worry about!" Abram screamed hysterically, to the image of his Father.
"Sylvia! Kevin! Who knows if something might happen to them due to the crazy mob taking their grievances on me, and they get caught up in it. I don't think I can take losing anyone else. Isn't walking away the much safer option?"
'But do you feel it's right?'
"What?" Abram pupils widened. He opened his mouth to answer in affirmative only to realize that no sound came out, no matter he forced himself to say it.
His decision is the safe one. There was no other way to go about it. But it wasn't the right one… Could Abram really live with himself knowing there was something he could do to help.
"Hah… Hahahahaha… It's not fair, Dad." Abram said resigned to his father. "You're telling me to…"
Abram couldn't complete it. Sighing he closed his eyes, trying to sink into the silence. And then his Dad decided to ask that question.
'Abram, tell me what you're expected to be looking at, right now?'
"I… I've got it Dad." Abram opened his eyes. Eyes that brightened with determination. "I know what to do… And thanks, for always being there, Dad."
'Anytime, son. Anytime.'
Time resumed back, and Abram spun his wheels back towards the danger. A son brimming with the legacy of his father.
'That's my kid.'
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
Jeffery Garret never believed in miracles. The boy knew that the world wasn't fair at all. An everyday child to a father and mother, Jeffery always had the view that life was so simple. It wasn't a lie that sometimes, he would always want more than the lot he had.
But seriously, which little boy didn't. The Heroes and Villains. The beams and the magical circles… Jeffery had always dreamt of being among the crazies. Doing cool stuffs, beating up the bad guys, and saving the day.
But looking back, Jeffery wished that he could just, maybe, wish this all away so that 'this' could never had happened…
It all started when he found out that he had superpowers. Teleportation to be exact. While he had been happy at first, Jeffery couldn't deny that he felt fear that his parents might abandon him as a result of his Mutation.
But thankfully, that wasn't the case.
Both his Dad and Mom hugged him, even though their faces displayed fears about the future. His big brother and sister on the other hand, were quite excited about his powers. His parents had made him promise to never use his powers, publicly.
Jeffery had readily and happily agreed to that.
After all, while teleportation might have sounded cool at first. That is all there is to it. He doesn't even know any far place to go to, anyway.
But it seems like when you become one of the crazies, there was nothing you can do to escape from your 'archenemy' of sorts. Somehow, in some way, someone had gotten wind of his Mutation, and kidnapped his entire family, and himself to an estate Alaska.
Things just spiraled down from there.
Everyone was killed. Dad, Mom, Big Bro, and Sis, all died before Jeffery's eyes, all on the orders of that man. Elias Bogan. Never had Jeffery truly hated someone as much as he hated that man. And all his tries for vengeance were all for naught.
It seems like Elias Bogan was also a Mutant. Every time Jeffery would try teleporting that man to the most dangerous place he could think of, his head would be struck by a ringing headache. It was only till an opportune moment came, that Jeffery would use to escape away from that prison…
Although, not without sending Elias Bogan associates to a glacier for them to freeze to death.
Was that really ok? As a boy of just 12years, was it ok to kill those men. Jeffery would gladly say, yes . Yes, and if he could do it again, he would happily do it.
Jeffery had thought that he would be free from that nightmare, after his escape into the wider world. That the lodge was nothing more than a bad dream. But it seems like Elias Bogan was more vindictive than Jeffery expected him to be.
He had been wanted for murder, with a count that included even his own family.
The rest was just like a haze. He had to seek asylum at the Xavier Institute to escape from the authorities who were on the side of a murderer, and was looked after by Emma Frost. And even then, Elias Bogan had still followed him to the Institute.
Why? Even till this day, he never had the faintest idea.
But it was only by the luck that the monster had been successfully repelled.
Jeffery had thought it was finally over. That he can finally experience some form of peace in the Institute. But really, it seems like he shouldn't be putting much in concepts like ' hope' or ' expectations.' They hurt even more when they fail you, in the end.
Jeffery Garret had supposedly died in a terrorist attack.
The former X-Man, Xorn, had attacked the Institute posing as Magneto. Jeffery had disregarded orders for escape, to retrieve the last memento of his family: an image depicting his family, how he remembers them. But then, before he could escape, the school blew up with Jeffery with it.
In a way, Jeffery was happy to be done with life. The world of the crazies were not for him. But in the end, it seems like his Mutation was more tenacious that he thought. Apparently, he was now capable of surviving on, only this time, as a ghost.
After some shenanigans, Jeffery had resumed classes like normal. How was that possible? But it was as Jeffery had said, it was the world of crazies to which he is now a part of.
But let it not be said that life didn't have its own way of playing a joke. Jeffery Garret had once again died, but only this time it felt permanent. One second he was there, the next, a painful feeling of something being pulled out of him, and then Jeffery felt his existence being erased.
Jeffery thought that was the end. He had experienced life at its fullest. Now was the time to meet the others. But even death seems to reject him, nowadays.
After an unknown spell, Jeffery Garret found himself inhabiting a new body. How was that even possible?! He thought he was finally dead, but here he was once again in the land of the living… And still a kid, it seems.
One thing led to the other, and here he was being chased by a bunch of Mutant-Haters. Jeffery Garret was really tired of the hand life was treating him.
In fact, if he was so tired why was he so desperately running away?
That thought halted Jeffery, as his running gait slowed down, dangerously. Perspiring sweat that was cold due to the ambient environment. The Mutant gazed back at the crowd that held all sorts of objects, seeking to commit macabre acts to a harmless child.
Both his first and second deaths were so sudden and quick, Jeffery never had the time to process it. But this time, Jeffery decided that he was going out on his own terms. To say he wasn't afraid was a big lie. Tears flowed out, his leg quivered, and shook, and the sudden urge to just cover himself. The turbulent emotions running in him were enough to drive him mad.
Jeffery Garret is afraid to die…
But maybe this time, he can finally rest.
"Gotcha, you little prick!" A hand clamped his arm painfully, as Jeffery was jerked towards a fetid smelling man. "Your body-parts are about to make me a very rich man. Do you know how rare your kind are nowadays? I'll… Burgh!"
A fist manifested from nowhere, crashing against the cheek of the fetid smelling man. Like a string, the homeless dressed man fell down straight.
"Hey, get on!"
Jeffery looked to the side, to see a young African-American on a bicycle extending his hand. He had a quivering smile that seemed so sincere, it drew Jeffery from his coma-like state. Hand that shook as the boy looked back towards the hollering crowd, extended for Jeffery's sake.
The blond Mutant couldn't remember how he had took the boy's hand. As Jeffery was settled in front of the boy who let out a cry as he pedaled away.
It was a battle-like cry that sounded so revolting… It was a cry that contained the kind of spirit, Jeffery envied.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
"Dammit, these bastards are really out for blood."
Swerving to the side, Abram avoided a broken wood that had just been lobbed at him. Abram couldn't afford to place the boy at the back, so he had to stay in the front. But as a result of that, Abram could only drive with one of his hands, while the other held the boy.
A stone harshly kissed his ear, with a decibel tang smashed against a metal pole. Letting out a fearful cry, Abram could feel his heart beating fast while he gritted his teeth.
"Don't you dare underestimate me! Do you know how many times I've ridden around this god-damn town?!"
Holding the blonde kid who let out a yelp. Abram roared, pedaling so fast, the 16years old was sure that by today's end, he would be thinking of replacing a busted tire…
That is if he sees today's end.
"No, don't think that, Abram." The African-American shook his head. "You'll see it. Just forget about everything else and pedal! Pedal! Pedal! Gwooooooo!"
His hand clenched the handle, as he passed by familiar streets with dangerous speed, taking curves that would result to injuries, if he mess up… Well, those fuckers behind him wouldn't give him a second chance anyway…
Giving a ragged sigh, Abram realized that he had inherited his Dad's bad behavior of cussing when things look really rough. But at this point, can he really be blamed?
Christmas colors, and the white-minted streets turned into blurs. Instinct took over, as Abram used his knowledge of the roads to his advantage. It didn't take long for the death-calling crowd hollers to disappear into the chill winds.
Still not satisfied with that, Abram decided to at least pedal away from town to be sure. Looking down at the quiet kid, Abram asked softly. "Hey, you there."
The African-American answered with a nod. Sighing, Abram continued. "Sorry about the rough ride. Not really a first class rider, but at least, we're away from the bad guys. So what's your name, kid?"
"… … Jeffery. Jeffery Garret."
"Well, I'm Abram. Abram Adams. Don't have time for a shake, time constraints and all."
Gradually, the full throttle reduced to casual speeds. Abram slowed down as the world regained its vividness. He had just passed the sign pointing to his town, but, it seems like he won't be coming back so soon.
'Hopefully, they didn't see me or anything… Haaah~ who am I kidding. I'm the only black kid in the neighborhood… This isn't gonna' be funny when I get back.' Abram sighed.
With this, Abram knew he had to push his plans closer than he wanted.
He had been desiring to get out of that town for a long time, but couldn't due to lack of funds. No, that was incorrect. His Dad had a small suitcase of money in a compartment down the basement, but he had wanted to save that money to get an apartment by the time he was 18.
A small rural community, away from the madness of the world, away from everything. He could get a simple job, while Sylvia would get to do whatever she wants to do. Of course, Abram would miss people here, but hell, the numbers he really missed wouldn't count pass one of his hand.
Besides, it's not they can't come visit.
But with this debacle, he had to get his exodus done quicker than he wanted.
"I just hope Sylvia isn't too mad at me." Abram moaned, before letting out a contrite laugh. "And to think that my former worries were to just get out of the cold, and rest at home."
But Abram knew that he couldn't just look the other way. That wasn't the values he was taught. Abram's Dad might not be capable of pulling down planets, or causing tectonic shifts with his punches. But he did teach Abram something better than all that. Values.
Meanwhile, the silence continued before Jeffery decided to ask the question that had been bothering him a lot. "Hey, Abram. Why did you help me?"
Abram was about to give a simple reply, but he then felt the kid shiver in his grip. Eyes widened slightly, Abram realized that this boy was experiencing exactly what that girl was going through. What he had felt when they had put his Dad into the earth.
It was honestly, just sick to think about.
Pulling away his scarf, Abram wrapped it around Jeffery's neck to provide him warmth and ruffle his hair.
"Why did I help you?" Abram repeated as if he was questioning himself at the same time.
"Well, this shucks. I just can't think of even one reason at all. Just that, I don't think I have it in me to sleep soundly in the night, if I hear a kid like you cry and did nothing else. You aren't supposed to suffering. I don't know about your parents, but I'm sure that they too wouldn't want to see their champ suffering, either."
Jeffery's hand pressed against the scarf, feeling the feeble warmth it provided. But at that moment, it was more than enough. More than warmth, the Super-powered Institution provided. More than the warmth, his Mutation could ever give him. For the first time since forever…
Jeffery Garret felt safe.
Abram groaned giving his neck a few pops. "I've gotta' thank Boss, the next time I see him for that envelop. I think I'll book a room at the motel a few kilometers away from here, and then call in with Sylvia to tell the rest. So, Jeffery, you hungry?"
"Hmm."
Abram smiled. "What do you fancy gobbling up, this moment?"
"Pizza with cheese sprinkles."
"Eh, I haven't gone to Mgdonald's fast food restaurant in a while, so I'll just hope that they have what your majesty commands."
To that Jeffery let out a small chuckle, to which Abram just shook his head good-naturedly.
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
In a way, it had seemed like the nightmare was over. I only had a bare plan, a nascent one even. But the future wasn't so bleak that I couldn't see a few feet away.
I didn't know what to do with Jeffery, but I reckoned that he would stay with us for a while. At least before the X-Men come pick him up. Even though that didn't seem possible due to Decimation Day. But worrying for the future was for the future me, the present me just had to get him to safety.
If only it was that simple. But as they say: If wishes were horses…
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
The quiet travel was interrupted by the sounded glass cracking. Abram turned behind, and froze at the sight that was occurring behind him.
Over some few metres away, and some feet above the ground. A large section of space? Seemed to be darkening, as the sound of machinery followed soon after.
"Run…" Jeffery whispered in fear, prompting the African-American to notice that the blonde eyes were dilated in terror.
"What's going on, Jeffery?"
"Run, before it catches unto us!"
Hearing Jeffery's hysterical screaming, spurred Abram to heave and groan as he began to pedal away. Securing Jeffery once more, while ignoring the wincing pain of his arms and thighs, Abram pushed himself as he tried to get away from the strange but eerie scene.
"It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming….."
"What's coming?"
"The time-travelling Mutant Hunter, Nimrod."
Abram didn't know what 'Nimrod' was. But the name filled him with so much dread that his legs pushed down with a little more oomph.
Unknowingly to all. The ruby cross on Abram's chest glowed, and Abram's eyes lit up with a verdant hue… IT was coming once again.
- Spawn Ω Archetype-
The Goddess of Mischief narrowed her eyes, as she traversed down the hallway soaked in a darkness that felt too heavy to be comprehended.
'By Odin's beard. I took too much time in handling those fools outside.' Wiping away the line of blood that trialed down her lips, Loki ignored the wincing pain in stomach due to broken ribs, as she continued on without pause.
Outside the cave in which Loki entered, the frigid plains of Jötunheimr. Hundreds of Ice Giants corpses piled upon themselves, to once again become one with their mother Ymir.
Loki would have allowed them to live, if they would had just granted her passage to the secret cavern. But their pride as an estranged tribe away from rule of Laufey, made them too big headed to recognize their superior. And also, the Goddess didn't have the time to play along.
So Loki decided to employ Thor's method of diplomacy –at least before he gained additional brain cells- fighting. The result was plain as day, even though they did score a hit or two.
"I swear on All-Father's throne, if I'm late once again to my beloved side, the Ice Giants shall forever be among my 'shit' list."
Giving a light chuckle, Loki continued on until she reached the wall at the end of the tunnel. To some, this might be the end, but to Loki, she knew of what was hidden behind it.
Her hand went behind her back, as she produced a vial of blood. The blood of her beloved. Opening its cap, Loki spilled the contents against the wall, which suddenly reacted with the manifestation of a tongue of fire!
It grew taking shape. Wings of flame flapped away the special chill of Jötunheimr, talons clenched tightly in a predatory manner, and a beak opened to a soundless caw. It was a gate to the bird of life's resting place.
"I really don't want you with him, even though you were the first. But I figure that for my, no, 'our' beloved. We can go beyond our posts. So what do you say, great Phoenix?"
Bright white eyes starred at Loki for a minute, before it enveloped her and vanished…
The Devil's Roar: A brutal awakening…
Earth-616
"So, what's next on the list, J.A.R.V.I.S?"
It was a dimly-lit room, located at the top of an exquisite skyscraper. All forms of contraption parts could be seen strewn around, particularly parts relating to armory. Metal armory. Sited on a hovering sophisticated chair, before a holographic display. Tony Stark rubbed his dark weary eyes, while letting out a yawn.
[We've just come back from the meeting with Senator Cornwell. So Sir, I reckon that you have at least, 30minutes to take a recess.] From the screen, a synthetized British voice answered back.
"Is that so…" Tony drawled.
Although, in his heart, the billionaire knew that he didn't have time for that. The world wasn't so peaceful enough to allow him that little respite. There was always the megalomaniacs, the tyrants, the grand schemes, and the bad guys to watch out for.
And even if he could do that –sleep that is- Nowadays, most if not all his slumbers are not exactly serene… Tony would always see 'him' haunting his dreams, every single time. Always asking that same question, again, again, and again.
It was like a damn recorder that the inventor knew would haunt him for the rest of his life…
Standing up, the inventor went towards one of the tables. On it were broken remains of a circuitry, he had been working on, yesterday. But as a result of Mole-Man's monthly attack at center Manhattan, he had to put it on hold. Now, he can use this little time to tinker away.
Peacefully…
[Sir, you don't seem to be resting.]
Picking up a screwdriver, Tony threw a short glance at the screen. "Well, obviously genius."
[But you had set this time of the day for your daily siesta. This is the 8th time you are ignoring it. Sir, I worry about your health.]
"Well don't be, J.A.R.V.I.S." Tony absentmindedly replied. Putting on a vision-enhancing googles, he continued. "I'm Iron Man, and I've also gotten the Extremis virus to complement it. I'm sure that a little sleep-boycotting won't affect me, much, in the long run."
[Your dark-bags says otherwise, Sir.]
"Nice one, smartass." Tony quipped as he continued on.
But it was like the world was out to get him. Even his little alone time had been interrupted.
Suddenly, the dim room lit up in red, as a siren-like alarm rang out. It was an alarm that reverberated throughout the building. It was a stringent call, for the Earth's Mightiest Heroes to rally.
Groaning, Tony stood up to leave the room –not before gulping the lukewarm coffee- Cleaning his lips, with the back of his hands. The Man of Science spoke out to the air, knowing that J.A.R.V.I.S. would be connected to just about everywhere in the Tower.
"Give it to me, J.A.R.V.I.S. What is it this time?"
[Well, Sir. There are strange energy readings from the east-north part of the States.]
Tony raised a brow to that, somewhat confused on why that had warranted the alarm. The other certified heroes were more than enough to take care of it, right? As if sensing his master's puzzlement, J.A.R.V.I.S added.
[Estimations shows that if it isn't swiftly taken care of, the strange energy would envelop the planet.]
"Alright, now you've gotten my attention."
There were many things Tony had picked up, when he began this Hero work. But the one main rule among all that, is this: if something strange is happening, and it's affecting the entire world. Check it out immediately, or later suffer the consequences for your negligence.
Briskly walking ahead, Tony activated the machinery in his body system.
It had happened back when Tony had infected himself with the Extremis virus. After he had been grievously injured by the domestic terrorist, Mallen. It was a do or die situation. And the only way Tony had to save himself, was by taking in the same virus that gave Mallen, the power to defeat him.
Long story cut short. After the whole matter, Tony had the idea of integrating his armor with the virus and wala! Model 30 was made. A new version of the Iron Man suit that comes directly from his bones. Kinda' like nanites in his bloodstream.
Linking himself to the Avengers private network, Tony said. "Alright, guys. You've all heard the racket. So, to the meeting room in 5minutes…"
Deactivating his com, Tony gave a tired sigh rubbing his shoulders. His body, despite its apparent superhuman stats, was still suffering from traces of exhaustion. Tony knew that he couldn't deny himself some shut eyes for long…
"Maybe, J.A.R.V.I.S's right. After this mission, I suppose I'll go get some shut eye."
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
Scott Summers had just finished firing a concussive blast at one of the holographic enemies, before his internal alarm informed him that he was going beyond schedule. Pulling his finger away from side of his visor. The Mutant said.
"Alright, we're done for now. Take a breather, and we'll meet here at 5."
Like an unspoken command, the room froze. The conjured battlefield faded away, revealing a large space outfitted with all sorts of technology. Particularly, hard-light technologies.
This site is the successor to the Danger Room –before the said room decided to gain its own sentience, and wreak havoc in the Institute- the Danger Cave. Banal? Yes, Scott would admit. But he wouldn't have it any other way.
'Prodigy really did a good job, on this.' Scott thought to himself.
While it wasn't on the level of the Danger Room –that was made by Mutants whose specialty lies in making stuffs that was practically impossible- the Danger Cave served as an adequate training room.
The well-built Caucasian, observed the others who were raggedly picking their-selves back up. Like always, nowadays, training sessions were cranked around 11. Unlike before, there were no quarters given.
But these days is there any other option?
Letting out a shaky breathe. The image of the massacred children that were killed in the Bus Bombing, flashed Scott's mind. Clenching his fist, to stop himself from vibrating in rage. The Mutant took that jarring memory as a means to strengthen his conviction.
'If the world is out to get us. Then we have to be ready for the world.'
He would always respect Xavier's ideal: a world were Humans and Mutants could walk together. It was truly a beautiful dream. That imagery was the main reason, why Scott could weather the insults, the curses, the fearful stares, and the hate-filled eyes…
But no more… As a result of the M-Day, the age of Mutants had ended before it even begun. The best, Scott could do is to protect the remaining Mutants he has with him. No matter what…
"Urg." Groaning, the blue hair Asian teenager raised her hands wrapped in heavy gauntlets. Stretching it upwards, with occasional lethal electric sparks sizzling out. Surge, Nori Ashida grumbled.
"My arms are really killing me. I don't think I'll be aiming much, this evening."
"Ha! Pansy." The smug rock-composed humanoid, Rockslide, Santo Vaccaro jibbed. "I can do this all day, literally."
Just as the ticked off Nori, was busy contemplating how cooked rocks would look like. Another Mutant thankfully came to Rockslide's rescue… Albeit unknowingly.
"Cut that smile out, Santo. It doesn't even look funny."
Another humanoid. This one composed of silver, scolded Rockslide.
Slithering towards the electricity discharging Mutant. The said Mutant, Mercury, reformed, resting her head upon Nori's shoulders.
"For the record, we're both 'humanoids' without a normal human's basic composition. So of course, we'll possess better endurance than the others. Or are you telling me that those stones of yours can also get tired?"
"Eh, I get your point, Mercury. And also, its rocks, not stone! It's in the name, dammit!" Rockslide huffed, as he stomped away.
Fluttering towards Mercury and Surge, the butterfly themed Mutant, Pixie, tilted her head, bemused. "Rocks and stones… Are there any differences between those two, or did I forget that in class, when Dr. McCoy had been explaining them to us?"
Nori and Cecily simultaneously shook their head, giggling in amusement.
Scott, the spectator of it all, smiled warmly. Yes, it was a known fact that the situation concerning Mutant survival was currently bleak. That was even putting it mildly. There were enemies everywhere, from both the bigotry Humans and their fellow extremist Mutants.
But for conversations like this. Simple, light banters that shows that, there was still that little light in this generation of X-Men, despite the world saying otherwise…
Scott, no, Cyclops would protect it.
Both for himself and the others who died in doing so. For that was what it truly means to be an X-Man…
White laces gloves slithered behind Cyclops. Wrapping around his décolletage, lovingly.
"Hmm… You talk of a recess, and here you are still brooding around. Mighty arrogant of you, Scott."
At her light jab, Scott gave a small smile. Swerving around, the X-Man held his wife's hand, kissing it. "Sorry about that, Emma. These days, I just seem to get carried away by the smallest things."
The blonde female-fatale huffed, dismissively. "Humph. That doesn't get to excuse your behavior, Scott. Can't you see that I worry for you?"
"And I thank you for that." Cupping his wife's cheek, Scott could still see that his words weren't enough. Sighing, he raised his hands, acquiescently.
"Alright, darling, you win. For you, I'll cancel the evening training program. The others deserve a little rest at the pace there're going."
Smiling impishly, the former White Queen added. "Then, we'll have the rest of the day for ourselves."
Beneath the visor, Scott's eyes slightly widened. "You little devil. So that was your plan, all along."
But the Omega Telepath could see that while her husband was yapping, he wasn't exactly complaining. So with a devilish smile, Emma said. "Don't tell me you've forgotten, darling. I'm the White Queen, Emma Frost."
Watching as the adult couple left the room. The Mutant whose gift was to become a fiery humanoid, Match, said while gagging. "Now that's something I definitely don't want to see."
On the other hand, Hope Abbot sighed blissfully. "What a wholesome couple, those two are."
"Eh?" Match and another telekinetic Mutant, Hellion. Stared owlishly at Hope, while voicing their doubts.
While it is true that they were not exactly experts in the matters of love –Hellion would deny that to his dying breathe- They just couldn't see their selves behaving like Mr. Scott and Mrs. Emma Frost… Their method of public affection felt too old school.
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
Some moments later, when they had exited the elevator from the Danger Cave underground, in the process of crossing the lobby. Emma Frost paused, face flushing as she held the side of her arms, while her body shook.
"Pft... Ahahahahaha…"
"Emma, what's wrong?" Scott asked his wife. Who had immediately began laughing, daintily.
Shaking her head, Emma replied. "Oh, it's nothing serious, honey. Apparently, for the children, public display of affection is now considered old school, this days."
"Ah, heh." Huffing in amusement. Scott smiled, while giving a mental sigh of relief. Thankfully, it was nothing serious. Just teenagers being what teenagers are…
Rubbing his forehead. The leader of the X-Men had begun to wonder when was is it, that he had begun feeling this old. Of course, Emma still looked as beautiful as ever.
"Flattery will get you everywhere with me, Mr."
Apparently, Emma had gotten out his intentional broadcast and felt happy about that…
Like an ear-splitting thunder rumbling on a clear summer day. It happened suddenly.
It was like something had been switched on. Something unexplainable, momentous, and powerful. A function deemed impossible to all but the 198 plus Mutants living in small falling Kingdom of Xavier Institution had been activated.
Unprepared for the familiar assailment. Emma Frost let out a pain-filled cry. Staggering back, the telepath almost fell to the ground if not for the quick support of her husband.
"Emma! Emma!"
Giving his wife a brief shake, Scott instantly fortified his mind using techniques from the three most powerful Telepaths in his life. Scanning around, Scott noted that there weren't any screams to be heard, so it wasn't an immediate attack… Could this be a personal assault on his wife?
Scott couldn't be too sure without any form of concrete evidence… Still, Emma needed to be given more priority.
In a princess carry. Scott hoisted Emma, heading for the infirmary. It was only until they entered the lobby of the mansion did Emma rouse from her muddling headache.
"Scott, put me down." The White Queen said, groaningly.
Her left hand pressed against her skull to mitigate the pain. Letting out a wince as her feet touched the ground. Emma resisted the urge to enter her Diamond State, and just stop this banging sensation colliding against her skull.
But now that she was observing the sensation, Emma couldn't deny that while it surprised her at first, there was no denying what it meant… But the others said it was impossible.
Hasty footsteps from the spiraling stairs, drew Emma's attention to the 'Three in One.' The Cuckoos. Their simultaneous nod was what pushed in the final nail. Even though the trio all spotted anguished looks on their faces, it still didn't turn down their smiles.
Eyes widening, Emma breathed out loud. But what was totally different about that action was that, this contained joy. So it really is true, it wasn't a just a conjured imagination.
But even with everything, the White Queen just had to see it for her eyes. Emma wouldn't celebrate until she was 100% percent sure. The final light.
Thankfully, there was somewhere in the mansion that would clear everything up.
"Scott, let's go to Level 6."
"Level 6? Isn't that." Scott's paused as his voice slightly shook.
"If this is a funny joke, Emma, it isn't funny. Level 6, isn't that where the Cerebra is being kept?"
Even as Scott had asked that question, the answer felt appeared to him the next instant. While it was true that the Cerebra could detect Mutants all over the world –with some exceptions- it was currently inert. Its present setting was to only activated, when a new 'light' has been born.
His decision was silly as Henry, Doctor Strange, and many others had proven that, what Wanda had did was permanent. It had fixated with Reality to the point, it was difficult, if not impossible to even take the first step on fixing it… Scott knew he was being petulant, but what could he do.
He just wanted to hope…
Disbelievingly staring at the Cuckoos who simultaneously smiled back. Scott took in a deep breath and nodded back at Emma. It was time to see if his puerile faith is being rewarded.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
The room currently abandoned was lit ablaze. Lighting up to a sudden signal which housed a potency which the 'Mutant Detector' couldn't process. Heavily damaged, the A.I, Cerebra, device flickered with a bright green dot that illuminated the room.
It has finally happened, the symbol of the impossible. A new Mutant has been discovered!
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
You know that saying of, when it rains, it pours. Or something relating to that proverb.
Now, Abram Adams could say he had experienced many form of hardships after the death of his Father. The alienation, the annoying stares, the satiric mummers…
But there was 'Nothing,' absolutely, 'Nothing!' that could have prepared Abram for this!
"Heave, ho! Heave, ho! Heave, ho! Heave, ho! Heave, ho...!"
"What are you doing, Abram?"
Looking down, while he cycled. The African-American regarded Jeffery, while breathing heavily. The snow-minted streets had turned back into blurs of white, as Abram rode away. By now, Abram could honestly say that he had broken all of his previous speed records.
Hell, with the speed Abram was going. He estimates, he could probably compete with a motorcycle… And maybe even win.
"Wha-What am I doing…?! Kid. You've just utter out a scary name, while adding the word 'Mutant Hunter' to it. So what does it look like I'm doing?!"
Jeffery wisely mummed to the reply he got. Shaking off a snowflake off his hair, the Mutant reclined back to Abram to support himself from falling off.
'The speed this bicycle is going at is unreal.' Jeffery thought in awe.
Maybe it was possible that Abram didn't recognize it. But as someone who once lived with many superhumans –especially the ones whose gifts were some sort of body enhancement- Jeffery could tell that Abram's pedaling could compete with their running speed.
But what clinched it, was when Jeffery looked towards where the bicycle handle is. Abram couldn't see it, but Jeffery clearly could. The bicycle's hand grip looked wrapped around Abram's hands… Like it had been pressed like soft mud.
"Abram, your handle!"
"Hmm, my handle?" The African-American echoed, bemused. His puzzled look turned to one of shock when he noticed that his hand had sunk into tough rubber, bending the hollow metal!
"Dullahan!"
Rather than questioning himself on how he was even doing that. Abram felt like crying at the sight of a damaged Dullahan! It cost him quite a lot, you know!
Jeffery was just about to question if Abram was just like him, when the air trembled with a roar!
Looking back. Abram swallowed loudly, unable to get rid of the lump in his throat. The blurred space was gone, in its place was a platinum humongous robot?! Of over 14feet, it stayed stationary.
But Abram would swear on all he had, that it was looking right at him!
"Agh! Heave, ho! Heave, ho! Heave, ho! Heave, ho! Heave, ho...!"
That was all he could do. Pedal, and trust that his human legs could get him far away from that mechanized monstrosity.
[Time stamp period arrival… Confirmed.]
[Crosscheck with Time Archives... Analysis, complete.]
Its soulless synthetized voice, echoed across the barren area, just some meters away from the billboard-sign, which welcomed all visitors to an undescriptive town in the States. Its body was enveloped in a purplish aura, as it remained dormant.
No, that wasn't it. The giant Omega Sentinel, 'Nimrod' was rebooting.
[Time to full operational status… 20minutes.]
20minutes wasn't much to the mechanized being, whose specs granted him the ability to waltz through beings comparable to Natural Destruction. But the Omega Sentinel wouldn't take this chance.
Its input and directive had showed it what would happen to anyone that took 'him' lightly… Or rather, what had remained of them.
Two shapely partitions on its cranium, which could be likened to a skull. Gave off a reddish gleam.
[Scanning: Target biometrics… Match found.]
If the Omega Sentinel could laugh, it would have. For its target was currently before it. Just over 600metres away, and Nimrod couldn't move as a result of its rebooting time. A thorough observation had shown that 'IT' was already rousing. Although, it is still in its preliminary stage.
While this wasn't favorable to Nimrod. This was much better than fighting 'IT' being fully active… For that would have been the worst case scenario.
[Releasing, Secondary Units… Inputting imperative data.]
The space around Nimrod rippled, like a small stone dropped into a still pond. Rabid growls followed soon after, as metal-like monsters pushed themselves out. Their sliver skin gleamed, while corrosive saliva dripped out from their mouths, melting the snow below.
[All Units: Proceed attack on Primary Target… Spawn .]
Letting out a spine chilling howl that will haunt anyone who hears it, forever more. Over 40 Predator X, charged forward with only murder in their desolate minds… The murder of a non-descript boy, who was currently pedaling for his life.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
Was it even possible for Abram to feel colder than he was, before now?
Ghoulish howls echoed behind Abram. Chilling the 16years to the point that he felt like he was walking naked in the arctic cold. Looking behind, the world zoomed in as Abram let out a frightened cry at what he saw.
"What the ever living fuck are those things?"
Creatures, a crisscross between dinosaurs and lizards, dashed towards them at frightening speeds. At the rate of their pursuit, Abram knew there was no way he could shake them off…
"Argh! Dammit! Jeffery. Hold on to the side of the grip… I'm gonna' up the throttle."
Seeing that the Mutant quickly did so. Abram narrowed his eyes, pushing Dullahan even more.
'Please, don't fail me now, partner.' Abram prayed.
The boy's desperate plea was answered with the stirring of a monster…
His eyes lit up with a verdant hue. Letting out a surprised cry, Abram felt an indescribable sensation course through him. An invigoration that felt too addictive, warmed his body. If Abram could equate it, he would likened to a Level Up.
… Endless Level Ups.
To the outside world, Jeffery watched on in fascination. The hands that gripped the handles were enveloped in pale green flames. The flames spread out, submerging even the bicycle. Altering the cycle in accordance to the mysterious flames.
The normal road bicycle gained mass. Its yellow frame turned jet black. Parts of its chassis vanished, and was replaced by an... Engine?!
"What's going on?" Abram hollered, in alarm.
His feeling of elevation rose a little, and before his very eyes. His Dullahan, bicycle became a Dullahan, chopper. And that was not even mentioning its motif… While it was childish of him, this was exactly how Abram imagined Dullahan to be, when he had bought it.
It was a facsimile of how the skull-lit Hero from Hell: Ghost-Rider's famous chopper, looked like. The flames. The skulls… Hell, even the speedometers were replaced by 2skulls opening and gnashing their aged teeth, while their eye sockets were lit up in green flames.
Now, the main question everyone might be asking, is this: Why isn't Abram crying out in fear as all this was transpiring?
Firstly. Because he doesn't have the luxury to do so, due to those fiendish looking beasts that were currently gaining up on them… And also, someone was already doing the freaking out for him.
"Abram, what's going on?!" Jeffery jittered.
Releasing his hold due to the sudden space. Turning back, Jeffery noticed in no small amount of surprise, that Abram's eyes were radiating a Jaden glow. When the African-American opened up his mouth a little, eldritch flames spewed out scorching the air.
Although to Jeffery, even though the toxic-looking flames were currently leaving a trial of melted snow. The Mutant felt strangely warm… It wasn't hot to Jeffery in the slightest.
"Since when could you do this?"
"Me~?! I thought that you were the one doing this!" Abram said. Trying not to think about how he was expertly driving a chopper. When he never had one in his life.
It was strange, freaky, and strange again…
"If I could do this, would I have ran away from those mob?"
"Well, I don't know… Maybe, you can only give people this powers, or something."
"I've got the ability to Teleport, and become like a Ghost… Although at the moment, my powers strangely seem to not be working, at all. But still, I don't think I can actually do this."
Revving up, Abram took a sharp turn. Snow turned into steam due to the fiery wheels, while Abram gazed back with his teeth tightly clenched. Even though, Dullahan's speed had increased, those monsters were still catching up…. Wait!
"Where's the one at the side?" Abram muttered, silently.
The pursuing creatures were a metres away from Abram and Jeffery. But there were at least, 2 of them that were ahead of the pack. Now he could only see 1. Where is the other one?
"Abram, watch out!"
Jeffery's alarmed warning whirled Abram to the left. In the air, in a pouncing pose, Predator X opened its maw to claim its prize.
Normally, the bio-weapons weren't inputted with such kind of hunting strategy. They were meant to be beasts of destruction without reason… Normally, that is.
But this series of Predator X were very different: Apart from being much stronger than the preceding series. This variety of Weapon X were encoded with a hunter kind of mentality.
Although, their brutality weren't taken away. It was an unwritten code that all Mutants were to die a painful death…
It wasn't much when looked at from a distance. But to all who have fought these monstrosities, this was the worst case scenario: a Killing Machine that could think…
"!"
Two tons of bio- engineered carnage fell upon its prey with a ravenous hunger. Corrosive maw opened wide to gobble up its query…
Nevertheless, Nimrod wouldn't have need this much Predator X, if it was this simple, would it?
Abram made a move. An action born from an instinctive need to protect himself, and the one with him.
Reckless? Yes. But what was Abram supposed to do?
Roaring, Abram thrusts his left hand sweltering in green flames. The strangeness that was going on with him. Abram was betting on it to protect them both, once again…
And Abram's faith was rewarded…
That strange sensation from before, occurred once again. From Abram's outstretched arm. A giant phantom-like arm composed of emerald flames shot out, catching the Predator X midair by its dewlap.
"?!"
Its confusing squalls still didn't protect the Predator X from being incinerated by the fiery appendage. Its regenerative potency was rendered useless before the scorching flames. It wasn't even an instant later, all Abram held were bones… Instant Finishing!
Even Abram's light toss, threw the Predator X's charred skeleton with the velocity of a bullet! A metal-like blur flew crashing the trees behind it, never stopping. Only exploding into metal-like shards, when it collided against a large rock, hundreds of metres away.
"Whoa…" Abram muttered looking as the spectral arm vanished. His arm resuming back its flaming appearance. A small smile bloomed out about his new, well… Power of sorts.
Looking back, Abram now watched the remaining pursuing Predator X without fear. The African-American now knew that he could fight back.
"Come at me if you wanna' to end up like your friend over there, pieces of shit!"
Meanwhile, Jeffery was of a different thought process. More than curiosity over Abram's new ability. The Mutant was concerned about the appearance of a Predator X.
'Nimrod and Predator Xs… I don't think that has ever happened before. This isn't even a matter of precedence, as I don't think I can warrant such a deployment. But then, that leaves…'
"Abram…"
Watching the speeding African-American, Jeffery held his tongue. This wasn't important at the moment. Getting alive is what matters for now. The rest could be handled at a much more discreet location…
If that was even possible…
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
The Time-Travelling 'Mutant Hunter' is finally ready to join in the fray.
[System online… Reboot complete.]
A smooth mechanical hum incanted out, as the Omega Sentinel made its first movement. Its head craned up. Under its feet, a pulsing light as Nimrod began to ascend.
Like Nimrod had speculated, not even the famed Predator Xs were able to bring the 'Designation' to heel. The 'target' was that powerful. What was even worse is that, in all this, the said 'target' hadn't even utilized its Mutant ability. This was just the dregs of his heredity.
It had to take out the 'Designation' before any more complication comes up!
*Boom*
Tanned street cratered below as Nimrod ascended 1000metres in an instant. Its inherent scanning function spotted the said 'target' tearing apart air barriers, encroaching the speed of sound. Strangely, there was another individual with the said 'target'. A Mutant, it seems. So it wasn't really a problem.
[Collateral within acceptable parameters… Beginning hunt.]
Its visor gleamed, but just as Nimrod was just about to streak towards the 'target,' a yellow column of light flashed by the Omega Sentinel blocking its path. Pausing, Nimrod regarded the new arrival.
"Yeah Tony, I can see it."
The one who just spoke was a blonde hair strapping man. Dressed in yellow spandex, donning a dark-blue cape. But what was most prominent was the glowing 'S' lodged upon his suit. It was a symbol of power. To the world, the bearer of this symbol was a being of unlimited power.
To even the Omega Sentinel, this new arriver could be classified as an 'Extinction Level Threat.' He is an unstable being who must be handled with utmost care. The Sentry.
[Sifting parameters to engage mode… Readying Thrusters.]
"Not so fast, I-robot!"
A red blur shot towards the gigantic robot, slamming into it. Iron Man kept up the pursuit. Calling up miniaturized missiles from his armor's shoulder compartment, sending it towards Nimrod who had yet to retaliate.
*KaBoom*
The sky lit up in flames with a resounding noise. But Iron Man knew that this wasn't enough to take it. Thankfully, the iron-themed Hero had a team that was good in deconstruction work.
"Tony, why did you attack it first? We still don't know what this robot wants."
"Ah, Carol." Iron Man said towards the woman in a dark one-piece, that had a golden lightning streak on it. Pointing towards the explosion, Tony explained.
"That, right there is called 'Nimrod.' I'm not sure if you've read the X-files, but this metal scrap is apparently a big deal. A time traveling Mutant serial-killer."
"You don't say…" The 'Quinjet' was just entering the battlefield as its pilot, the Legendary Spy, 'Black Widow' drawled as she had finally arrived.
Although once again, she was the last person to do so. Natasha decided the next thing Tony would be upgrading would be the Quinjet.
"Yep," Popping the 'P' word. Iron Man continued. "So for that metal head to even be here, it means that there is someone it's after. Someone it wants to kill."
"Uh, hey." The pacifist Hero composed of Ion, 'Wonder Man' spoke out, calling on his teammate's attention.
"Do you think this Nimrod could be after those guys?"
Simon Williams gestured towards an eerie sight that could only be detected by a being possessing enhanced vision.
Thankfully, most of the Heroes present had a way to compensate for that.
A tiny fluttering light increased in mass, revealing 'Wasp' who tilted her head, in bemusement.
"Huh. Is something wrong with this visor, or did the Ghost Rider just went on a fashion change?"
Janet couldn't spot it fully. But she captured the glimpse of the streaking vehicle that was heading towards the city, through the aid of her visor.
Bones. Green flames. And its rider enveloped in the said flames… That just had to be the Ghost Rider.
Inside the Qunijet. The Grecian Deity, 'Aries,' watched the captured image of flaming rider. Eyes beneath the war helmet narrowed in suspicion. He had seen those flames somewhere, and more importantly…
"That is not the Rider of Hell." The Olympian's voice rumbled to his teammates through the intercom.
"What'd you say, big guy?" Carol Danvers, codename 'WarBird' asked in puzzlement.
"I said. That, is not the Rider of Hell. Those flames. They look familiar. Not to mention that, its presence holds a great similarity to an archaic story, my Father use to regale me with, during my youthful years. A tale of verdant flames that precedes even the Infinity Stones."
That arrested everyone's attention. Anything that holds even a modicum of relationship with the reality-altering rocks, deserves a scouring consideration placed to it.
Clapping his metal hands, Tony gestured towards the hovering Heroes.
"Alright… Wasp. Do you think you're up for checking out, who's our flaming caricature friend, over there?"
"I'm on it." Wasp nodded.
But an instant later, her path was blocked off by a white gamma beam. It streaked down with a bright flash. Not a moment later, over 200metres in diameter silently vanished leaving a deep hole in the earth. Tress, snow, and rocks, all gone in an instant.
The obscuring smoke wafted off, revealing Nimrod. Its malformed large left arm was now a giant cannon. As the Heroes prepared for confrontation, the Omega Sentinel synthesized voice reverberated in the air.
[Hold yourselves, Avengers… My task doesn't seek conflict with your cohorts. I only seek the elimination of the 'target.']
"Well, I don't think so, Bay-Max. We aren't about to let you commit murder." WarBird said clenching her gloved fist tightly.
The cosmic energy within the half-breed Hero stirred for an outlet.
Catching the eyes of Sentry, WarBird gave a light nod. A fight was about to erupt at any second.
[… … In that case. Begin, Auxiliary Function.]
Space ripped as WarBird and Sentry broke the sound-barrier. But it was already too late.
[Activate Unit… Omega Sentinels II]
The chassis of Nimrod shook. Before the Heroes eyes. One became two, and two became four. The Omega Sentinel divided or rather, replicated till the skies were populated with the robotized Mutant Hunters.
The Prime, Omega Sentinel, called up its 'subsidiaries' to serve as a barrier from the charged of the 2powerhouses. Nimrod was sure that its Vector Shield could protect him from an assault from WarBird and the Sentry, but it wouldn't be capable of taking in continuous punishment.
*Boom*
Iron Man let loose another round of scorching beam from his hands, wearing a grimace. At this rate, Tony was sure the Avengers couldn't reach Nimrod with all his clones running around. The Avenger could see why the said robot was a High Class Threat.
But nevertheless, they could at least get to the 'target' before the mecha-assassin.
"Wasp!" Iron Man shouted amidst the stringent discordance.
Thankfully, Janet seemed to have gotten the message. With a quick nod, the shrinking Hero, shot ahead becoming a dot in the distance.
Just as Nimrod was about to resume pursuit of its 'target.' It paused, raising its Vector Shield just in time to stop a blow from Wonder Man.
"Leaving so soon, Nimrod? Oh, don't be such a spoilsport."
Eye outlets gleamed as Nimrod rushed towards the ion Hero with a surprising strength! Its lancing charge containing enough velocity to push and crack Wonder Man's ribs!
Grunting, Wonder Man gritted his teeth in pain. The robot's spear attack hurt more than he expected. And this was coming from a guy who wouldn't die from nuclear bombs.
"Be careful, Wonder Man!" Iron Man said. Weaving through a danmaku of beams from Nimrod's duplicate before returning fire.
"That machine possess enough specs to clash with the Juggernaut, and win! It's a Hulk level Class!"
"Couldn't you have said that earlier?" Wonder Man grumbled. Rubbing his already healing torso.
A powerful beam pushed away Nimrod as WarBird joined in. From the looks of it, all the lasers being thrown around must have given her enough juice. Her glow was brighter than usual.
"You alright there, Williams?" WarBrid asked. Floating towards the Ion Hero while giving him a cursory look.
Cleaning the edge of his lips, Simon Williams smirked. "Worried about me, Carol?"
"From the looks of it, you seem to be alright then."
"Oh come on, don't be so cold."
"We're in the battlefield, Williams, not… Anywhere else."
A loud holler drew their attention. On top of the Quinjet that was busy firing armor piercing bullets. Aries stood, screaming to the heavens while swishing his large axe left and right. Bisecting any unfortunate robot that came close to his axe.
"I am not going to be yelling like him, am I?" William said, with an eye twitching.
Carol who felt a little bit awkward at the Olympian's rather 'war-like' behavior, shook her head.
"Well, not like Aries. But rather, you can learn from his enthusiasm. You are an Avenger, Wonder Man!"
With that the half-Kree became a golden blur, shooting back into the fight.
"Enthusiasm?" Wonder Man fixed his glasses. "I'll show you, enthusiasm, Carol."
Not a minute later, the air rumbled as the 100Class Hero let loose.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
[Sir, incoming aircraft by your right.]
Pushing away an Omega Sentinel II's hold. Iron Man flipped over, unleashing a Uni-Beam on the robot's back. Pausing, he turned towards his right, but all the rather dangerous 'colors' and smolder prevented him from seeing properly.
Iron Man didn't bother to put on enhanced vision mode. Gripping a nearby Sentinel by its arm, he hurled it towards its soulless companions resulting in an explosion of mangled metal.
"So who is it, then?"
[Sir… It's the X-Men.]
Iron Man hovered for a moment, before clicking his teeth.
"Shit."
As a result of Decimation Day, and the subsequent reduction of the Mutant Race to a mere 198 –Although, Tony didn't believe that the numbers were exactly that- the Mutants were not exactly included in the Civil War, as their numbers were already accounted for.
From what he heard from Charles. The X-Men were holing up in their Institute. Only going out to help their fellow Mutants who were in trouble as a result of the M-Day. While that sounded kinda like Heroics, Tony decided that due to their unique situation, he could give them a pass.
So he decided not to include them in the Registration… They weren't going to be a problem in the near future.
But this. How was Tony supposed to handle this?
While it was an unspoken rule, that all Mutant Cases were to be handled by the X-Men and their associates. This was turning out to be a bigger deal than he thought. Tony could try forcing them to leave due to not being 'Registered.' But that would just open up a can-worm of problems.
Problems, Tony Stark didn't want to deal with at the moment…
'God. I really wish I hadn't sworn to stop drinking.'
"Ah, screw it. I'll just say it was a 'heat of the moment' decision."
Shunting away the part that called himself, a hypocrite. Tony ignored the approaching aircraft while his arms kept on discharging cremating lasers. Thankfully, there were enough opponents to serve as an outlet for Iron Man.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
"Hey, isn't that, Nimrod?!" The green skin Mutant with lizard properties, Victor Borkowski, said in no small amount of shock.
In the 'BlackBird,' an air cruiser with a record of speed of 3times faster than sound. Its large compartment housed the present combat-ready X-Men for what would be a very important mission.
It was a mission that enabled them to even disregard the Sentinels stationed around their Institute.
"En effet, ça l'est. There is no mistaking that metal monstrosity. It seems like we're at the right location." Monet St. Croix nodded her head, eyeing the Omega Sentinel darkly.
Meanwhile sited at the front row. Cyclops studied the metal opponent, while with no small amount of trepidation, due to his team not possessing the required fighters needed for such an adversary. The X-Man was ironically happy that the Mutant Hunter was actually there.
For it meant, what he saw at Level 6 wasn't just some conjured delusion.
Turning to his wife, who was currently concentrating, Cyclops asked. "Emma, have you gotten the new Mutant, yet?"
Even with her eyes closed, the Omega Telepath let out a smile.
"Now, darling. I know you are impatient, but please don't rush me… There, I've gotten him. I only know that he's there. But I can't seem to reach his mind... More like, huh. My own psyche is against me even trying that. There is something within the Mutant. Something I institutively don't want to see."
To Cyclops, this was surprising, as while it could be said that even as an Omega Telepath, Emma wasn't the overall strongest in the field. But the number of people, she was afraid of battling telepathically were well… Nil.
Sighing, Emma opened her eyes, regarding Cyclops.
"And I also have good news and bad news. Which one do you want to hear first?"
'I just had a feeling that things might turn out this way.' Scott exhaled. Rubbing the edge of his eyes. "Give me the bad news, first."
Rubbing his shoulder, Emma said. "For one. Our Mutant seems be pursued by a horde of bio-engineered monsters, the Predator Xs."
"Hold on a minute, Emma. Ya mean tha' say, it's the Abominations those purifin' folks created is actually out there in the streets, chasin' our Mutant friend?" The beautiful brunette whose hair had a streak of white, Rogue cut in disbelievingly.
"But them freaks and time-travelling killer-robo. Since when did those two work together?!"
Emma shrugged. "Are you asking me? All, I'm saying is that the familiarity of their ferociousness exposed their nature, and also… They're over twenty-four of them."
A cold breeze passed through the compartment over the piece of news. To all who knew how dangerous those monsters were, knew that the monsters had to be fought with care. Any form of carelessness could result to death.
A painful death…
It was after some seconds, that Scott cleared his throat.
"This just proves that there is something to our new friend that could benefit the Mutantkind. And Nimrod doesn't want us to have it. So, Emma, what's the good news?"
"The good news is that there is someone else with him. Someone we all thought was dead. Jeffery Garret."
"Jeffery Garret! Are you truly sure, it's Jeffery Garret?!" Sited beside Colossus. Xuân Cao Mąnh, codename Karma, shot up from her seat. Her eyes watered in a gamut of emotion.
Not bothering to wait for answer. Karma shut her eyes, as a pinkish aura bloomed around her crown. She employed upon her own lesser telepathic prowess. Not a minute passed, a line of waterworks flowed down her cheek, but the Viennese couldn't stop smiling.
"It's him. It's really him… But I thought that on 'that' day, he lost his powers and disappeared."
At the back sitting with her teammates, Surge felt mummed as she heard the news from the adult's discussion.
The electricity Mutant had always regarded Jeffery as her little brother, and his death on the M-Day due to his power-loss hit Surge in more ways than one. She could only keep it hidden. The pain and the anguish. Lives in their thousands were lost that 'day.'
Even those who had lost their Mutant abilities weren't spared…
But now hearing that Jeffery could actually be alive. It was like a dream. A dream that she fears is just a conjured fantasy.
A hand placed on Surge, no, Noriko's shoulder. Turning to see Trance's supportive nod and Match's thumbs up, Surge smiled nodding back. Noriko would cry later, but Surge has to bring a Mutant back home.
"Alright, everyone listen up."
Cyclops stood up. He looked around, feeling a bit proud to see the determined looks on their faces. Apart from some old faces, Cyclops reckon it'll be just like the old days…
Yep, it's official. Scott Summers now feels like an old man.
"Rogue. Monet. Hellion. Warpath. You'll run the air interference. From what I can see, the Avengers are getting Nimrod preoccupied. But we still don't want any unknown stranglers catching us unprepared."
The addressed X-Men, promptly nodded.
"Surge. Match. Armor. Pixie. Rockslide. Mercury. Your job is to let loose on the Predator X."
Cyclops knew that the children weren't ready to get down with the Predator Xs. But that is why he was here. Besides, this was better than going against Nimrod and his persistent adaptability.
"All X-Men with mental capabilities will support Emma Frost in jumbling the beasts mind… And if need be, the Avengers, also. The rest of you will be with me."
Looking towards the pilot seat, Cyclops gestured at Sage to open the hatch. As the cold artic blew in, Cyclops gave his team a final nod.
"Alright, X-Men. Let's get this done and bring our Mutants home."
Rockslide pounded his fist together in excitement. "Now I'm getting pumped up!"
"Are-Are-Are those… The Avengers?!"
Even with ravenous beasts hankering for both Abram and Jeffery's flesh, and the roaring of his new improved Dullahan. –Oh, he is so keeping this chopper by the end of this debacle- The battle taking place in the sky was still loud enough to draw Abram's attention.
Now imagine the African-American's surprise when the most recognized Heroic group in the world were fighting just above him. Man, Sylvia would never believe this. Heck, Abram is even having trouble believing himself. Maybe, this is all some fabricated fever dream.
But unfortunately, Abram knew that his dreams were much worse than this.
"Hmm. Thankfully they seem to have drawn away Nimrod's attention from us." Jeffery, who Abram was suspecting is actually a bigger deal than he thought, noted calmly.
"Is that really all you have to say, kid?! There are bonafide superhumans fighting just above our heads, here." Abram hollered in astonishment.
"They're the kind of ones, whose battles always ends in an expensive collateral damage!"
This was why Abram said the heart-wrenching action of the city just wasn't for him. Is this the prize for his good deed?
"But Abram… What am I supposed to say? Welcome to the world of crazies."
"Well, I respectfully deny that world!"
Frustrated tears welled up. With a scream, Abram threw his hand backwards. Backhanding a nearby Predator X with his spectral arm. But then their movement suddenly changed.
"!"
Two of the Predator X expertly dodged a heavy swing. Shooting towards the 16years old in hot pursuit. To Abram, this was the confirmation of one scary fact.
"Dammit, I suspected as much. But these bastards are actually learning in a fight? This isn't a fucking Xianxia, you know!"
Both said Predators flanked Dullahan. One by his right, the other his left. It might actually be a trick of light, or just the hectic pandemonium getting to him. But Abram could have sworn they were actually smirking at him.
'Shit! They gonna' attack from both sides.'
The action the Predator Xs took was actually rational. Since their 'target' had begun the decimation of its brethren, the Predators had took notice of one fact. The 'target' had only used his left hand in calling up that ability. But what if they go to the 'target's' other side?
While that meant that one of the monsters would have to sacrifice itself, it wasn't really a problem. The Predator Xs prime directive was what mattered most in the end.
"!"
Simultaneously, the Predators pounced. Rather than going straight for the gobble, their maws opened spookily and corrosive saliva globs flew out. Their saliva had enough potency to melt a normal human into an unrecognizable goo in less than 4seconds.
Their 'target' was done... If he were an ordinary target, that is.
The skull head-light roared, and the motorcycle did a spinning hop, twirling 5metres into the air! Abram watched in slow motion as both lobbed acids flew pass him. The verdant vibrancy increased. With a rattle, and an itching sensation, energy chains flew out from Abram's spine.
There were over ten of the spectral chains wriggling in the air. Five each, heading for airborne Predators.
"-!"
Both bio-engineered monsters could only let one last whine, before they were skewered and subsequently incinerated.
Landing with a heavy bounce, both chopper occupants remained quiet for some seconds. But then a new voice cut in, saying in an impressed tone.
"Nice moves, Mr. Not Ghost Rider."
"Gyaah!"
Letting out a terrified cry, a torrent of pale green flames flew from Abram's mouth. Fortunately, the stranger skillfully dodged the surge which subsequently evaporated the area where it struck.
"Yikes, seems like I've reached my quota for being almost vaporized in 1day." After some seconds later, the voice –now feminine- said with a tinge of morbid amusement.
As Abram calmed down, he now studied the owner of the said voice. She was an adult woman dressed dark bodysuit with yellow accents, and a visor headgear. But even that 'eccentric' outfit didn't prevent the African-American from recognizing her.
Hell, he had always been seeing the woman on most of the fashion magazines, Sylvia likes to read. And then there's her other occupation…
Audibly swallowing, Abram thought. 'Wait a minute. Did I almost kill the Wasp with flames, just now?'
Meanwhile, Janet eyes widened beneath her helmet. "Hmm? You're both just kids! Why in the world is that robot after you, two?"
The Hero had made that observation after seeing the youthfulness of one, and the childishness of the other. It was more of a maternal instinct that made her to utter such a statement.
"I-I-I don't know, mam." Abram cursed his stuttering, but could he help it. He is beside what could be akin to a world celebrity, here.
"It just suddenly appeared, and th-then began sending these monsters after us."
Wasp stared at the boy for a minute, before sighing. She really isn't cut out for interrogation work.
'I don't think normal interrogation is even going to cut for this.'
The intimidating appearance of the boy, coupled with that kind of power. Not to mention, the kind of monsters after him… Anyway, the first thing to be done is to take them to a safe location. Luckily, the boy's ride would help a ton in keeping up with her.
"Alright, kid. How about you follow me. I'll take you to somewhere safe away, from these monsters."
But then Jeffery immediately cut in. "There's no need to do so, mam."
Abram cut in nonplussed. "Oi, what do you mean by that?"
The blonde Mutant only smiled. "Because the cavalry has just arrived."
With that battle cry. The bio-monsters behind the trio were bombarded with lightning and fire. Looking back, Abram felt his breath hitch at the sight of another fantastical group of individuals.
A lady encased in a pink armor, who was stomping and punching the monstrosities. A rock looking humanoid, that was probably male, and a female humanoid made of silver, who were slicing and pounding. In the air was another fiery humanoid, letting flames loose, and a blue hair lady who was riding a cycle, hurling lightning.
"Uh, Jeffery. Are those guys perhaps…" Abram trialed off. His mind getting overloaded at the sight of such abilities up-close. Dammit, he's just a normal mail-boy…!
Well, he was until now…
Nodding with a smile at the sight of familiar faces, Jeffery replied. "Yes, they are. They're Mutants."
Just as Wasp was about to question why the X-Men were here. She was struck with a light headache, before a familiar voice echoed in her head.
(Hey, Janet.)
Letting out an annoyed wheeze. Janet cradled her head, angrily looking towards where an air cruiser had appeared. The size-altering Hero, knew whose voice that was. In fact, she could already see the blonde, dressed in her lavish white uniform, waving at her from the frontal pane.
"What are you doing in my head, Emma Frost…?"
(Oh, come on now. Don't be so belligerent, sweetheart. We're only here to rescue our fellow Mutants.)
"First of all. I'm not your sweetheart! And second, Mutants?! As in the two of them?"
Abram who broke her words down a bit, blinked flummoxed. "Does she mean me? Am I a Mutant?"
It sounded stupid just asking, but Abram needed a verbal confirmation to be sure. This was just getting out of hand. After all, he thought after Decimation Day, Mutants weren't a thing, anymore! But here he is, chucking out flames and transforming bicycle into badass choppers.
Jeffery who was still connected to the Telepathic network, sighed. Before he then heard a familiar voice in his head. One, which had a familiarity that almost brought him to tears.
(Jeffery, can you hear me? It's Noriko.)
'Noriko… Yeah, I can hear you.'
(Jeffery! Th-Thank God. I really feared that it was all a lie. That you weren't alive, I was afraid to hope. I'm so happy that I've been proven wrong.)
'Thanks, Noriko. But even I don't know how I'm even alive.'
(We'll all go into that later. When we're back at the Institute, both you and your fiery friend.)
'Yeah, till then, Noriko.'
(Be right with you, Jeffery.)
With a crackling sound, the potency of electricity bombardment behind Jeffery increased. Surge smiled, letting loose on the bio-beasts that stood between her and her little bro. This time she wouldn't let anything happen to him. This she swears.
Abram, the one who apparently hadn't been linked, could only blink nonplused. "Um, Miss. Wasp, I mean Mrs.-"
The addressed Heroine waved her hand. "No, I'm now back to Miss, once again. But please just call me, Wasp."
'Now that's awkward.' Abram thought. "Ok~ well… Wasp. Am I still supposed to follow you, wherever you're going?"
Wasp eyed the Blackbird, and then the Mutants who were already rounding up the remaining Predator Xs for Cyclops to pulverize. Iron Man had told her check out who Nimrod was after, and while that also implied that she ought to take them to safety. Wasp couldn't just take them away from their fellow Mutant hands.
She was also sure that they wouldn't allow her to do so if she tried…
'Tony did say, I was only supposed to check out who was the mysterious rider is. Not to take them away. And besides, it's not like they're hidden. Xavier's Institute is literally in the same city as the Avenger's Tower.'
With that line of thought, Wasp said. "No need, you can follow those guys. They'll take you somewhere safe."
Watching as the aircraft landed in an open field just some meters away. Abram rubbed the edge of his eyes, wearily.
'After today. Both I and Sylvia are hitching the nearest bus ride to an unknown town. This excitement isn't just for me.'
Batting away the Sentry, Nimrod enveloped itself within a hexagonal barrier. The barrier could only withstand 9seconds of punishment. But for a robot with a processing unit, comparable to quantum computers. It was enough.
As expected, the Predator X units had failed.
This was within Nimrods calculations. For if only those bio-weapons were needed, then it wouldn't have been summoned to eliminate the 'target.' But then, the following complications weren't within its computations.
The Avengers and the X-Men. Two teams containing heavy-hitters that would surely slow the Omega Sentinel down. And if the 'target' escapes, and perchance, finds out even an iota of what his Mutant ability really is…
There will be no stopping him… The Omega Sentinel has no other choice. The robot has to bring ' Its ' true designated form out. Consequences be damned. Even if the Higher Authorities discover what its nature is. The 'target' must not escape!
[Omega Sentinel, 'Nimrod' going offline.]
Wonder Man paused, after colliding two of the Omega Sentinel II craniums, together.
"Hey, guys. I think our metal friend here's, about to do something, really bad."
To Iron Man that just meant one thing… They had to take it down, and do it fast!
"Everyone, forget about the Sentinels! Just fly through them, all! Stop Nimrod from doing whatever it's about to do!"
Multiple 'Booms' cracked the air, as all the heavy hitters zipped for the encased Omega Sentinel.
Lasers, capable of toppling mountains flew from Sentry's eyes. White mixed with orange, as both WarBird and Iron Man shot their attacks at full power. Even the God of War jumped off the Quinjet, axe raised up high, and ready to destroy his adversary.
It was a glorious picture. A combination of their present attack would have even sundered a planet larger than Jupiter. Against a single robot. One that while possesses the power of the Hulk, didn't have the Hulk's regenerative potency was sure to be an overkill.
But then, even this level of output was within the Omega Sentinel's calculations.
[Donning 'Celestial Armory,' uploading form… The Redeemer .]
Heaven's Wrath…
It was like the dawning of a new star. With a blinding luminesce, the array of attacks capable of shattering a planet simply dispersed. And when the glow died, in the place of the Mutant Hunter… Was a futuristic 'Angel.'
Nimrod, or rather, the Redeemer's armor was white mixed with gold, 'celestial' gold. It had a helmet of the same color with gold accents, and most notably on its back was a halo made from the yellow aura, it was currently emanating.
Undaunted, Sentry appeared at the Redeemer's side, fist pulled back for a haymaker. But faster than the solar-based Hero could process. The Redeemer's hand clamped Sentry's throat. It gave the Sentry a little glance and then flung him… Into the reaches of space.
Iron Man could only watch in shock, as his heaviest-hitter was easily taken out by the robot. Why hadn't it done so in the first place? Wasn't in his mind. But rather, for Nimrod, or whatever it was now, to bring this 'form' out. Meant it was getting desperate.
'And let's keep it that way.'
"Avengers… Assemble-!"
The Redeemer wasn't going to give them any chance. They already had their try, now it's the Redeemer's turn.
Raising both arms, the Sentinel produced a small orb which it promptly smashed. An omnidirectional ripple spread out, pushing away the thick snowy clouds and the Avengers with it. While the fliers were going to be alright. The Quinjet spun, careening against the side of a nearby mountain. Aries followed not long after… But the rest were miles away.
To even the superhumans. It would take at least some seconds to orient themselves, as the force within the Redeemer's hit was quite powerful. –Comparable to the Hulk's backhand- Which would give the Redeemer time to settle this once and for all.
Taking an aiming position, yellow pixel blocks manifested in the Redeemer's hand. As the light died down, what remained was a firearm with an appearance of large sniper gun. But it was actually a particle rail-gun.
It's scanning showed the Redeemer that some of the members of the X-Men were heading for it. But they, like the Avengers were too late. The edge of rail-gun's barrel glowed with a sacred light.
As the Redeemer aimed a Spawn Killing bullet towards Abram. There was no need for a telescope for it already had eyes on the 'target.' Without any second to lose, the Redeemer pressed the trigger… And light streaked out.
*Bang*
Mission complete…
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
Abram gave a genuine smile, as he watched Jeffery laughing in the embrace of the blue-haired woman, who had been hurling genuine electricity.
There were others, who had given him happy bear hugs, and kisses. But only the blue hair woman and another older woman were able to provoke such an intense reaction from the Mutant.
'Yep, seems like I was right after all.' Abram mentally nodded to himself. 'He really is a big-deal, around here. Now, if only I can use this commotion to make myself scarce…'
Now that Abram was sure of Jeffery's safety, it was time for him to save himself… By running away, before anyone even realizes he was even here in the first place.
Call him a coward, but Abram has had enough excitement to last him over a lifetime. His bicycle is still a chopper, –thank God for that- And if he uses it at full speed, the African-American is sure that he'll be able to vamoose out of here.
The 16years old has seen on plain TV, what it means to join the world of crazies. Punched, tortured, shot at, cut at, plotted against, and have buildings and other insanely heavy objects dropped on your person! Like that isn't enough, depending on the kind of Supe you want to be. You can kiss your privacy and the safety of your loved ones, goodbye!
Nope! Nope! Nope! Abram Adams ain't gonna kill himself, joining the wakkos doing their wakko shit!
But alas, even the Buddhas were against him. Just as Abram was quietly carrying his presently non-fiery self out of the location. A hand clamped on his shoulder. Mentally gulping, Abram turned to see the famous visor Mutant, giving him a grateful smile.
"I heard from, Jeffery. That you're the reason why he was capable of even reaching this point, in the first place. You have my thanks. There hasn't been any precedence of a Mutant helping another Mutant just immediately after their X-genes has kicked in."
With a crooked smile, the sweat-dropped Abram just nodded. "Eh, it's no problem, sir. I just couldn't leave him alone."
But yeah, Abram's unasked question has been unintentionally answered. He really is a Mutant. There is no way, he could leave without making a fuss.
Watching as Cyclops was moving ahead. Abram spun back to bring his chopper. A tug on his windbreaker pulled the 16years old to see Jeffery watching him with a smile. Abram decided right there that the smile sure suited the kid.
"What do you want, kid?"
"I just came to say, thanks."
Abram felt a bit fuzzy at Jeffery's reply. Rubbing his nose, he said. "No need, kid. I just did what any sensible person would have done. Besides…" Abram ruffled Jeffery's hair. "All that matters is that you're safe in the end."
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
It was supposed to be a story with a happy ending. The valiant tale of a boy, who didn't follow the crowd to crucify or stand by the sidelines. Taking a single step, he extended a hand to save one life.
It should have been a tale, where there is light even in the darkest pits, as long as you never give up hope…
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
"Now, I remember why I'm here."
Jeffery's whisper didn't reach his savior, but that's fine. It shouldn't have too, anyway.
It was when Jeffery saw that streak of light, did his memory of why he was in that town return to him.
Time for all intent and purpose, unilaterally stopped. Only the Mutant with ability to Teleport and become a Ghost, could move in the temporal disturbance. Jeffery knew the only reason he was alive in the first place, was for this moment.
To become a sacrifice, so that others like him won't have the chance of living such a painful life.
Jeffery knew the truth… That Jeffery Garret had died on the Decimation Day, and what he is now, is nothing more than a conjured soul from Heaven.
Turning back, Jeffery whispered apologies to the ones who had just got him back, only to lose him, once again. But this must be done. All his life, Jeffery Garret has always been one to let life dictate its term for him. But not this time. Even if it meant death, he would decide for himself.
And this time, Jeffery decides…
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
It was only a whisper, but Abram heard it clearly. With tears in Jeffery's eyes, the Mutant flickered for a split second, before Abram had the sensation of being pushed away.
Not even instant later, the spot where Abram stood was baptized in white light. Only that in Abram's place was Jeffery who still kept on smiling at him. Blood from the charred corpse flew splashing across Abram's unmoving face.
"What?"
Touching the side of his cheeks. Abram mechanically looked to see a lifeblood that wasn't from him. No, it was from that pieces of gore that lay splattered, tainting the white snow in crimson red.
The horrid cry of the blue-hair woman didn't register in his eyes, nor did the hasty cover of Mutants provided. Abram's world ceased to exist as he didn't even have it in him to scream at the horror being committed to an innocent child.
'Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again… AGAIN!'
That's it… He doesn't care what will happen anymore.
Set the 'Beast' free…
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
If there was anything, Abram Abrams knew that he was good at… Was his ability to lie to himself. Denying the truth, while living in a conjured fantasy.
Did it hurt when you heard of your Father's death? Yes, but I'm sure I'll get over it…
The people who did this to your Father. Do you hate them? I could say yes, but what am I to do about it. Vengeful tears would get me nowhere in life…
Do you believe in Devils? As much as the next Christian…
Abram Adams… Do you have a Devil? What are you saying … ? Of course, I don't- I… I.
It was easy for Abram to just deny everything, he saw that night. That green eye behemoth, clad in bones and crimson. He is Abram Adams. The son of small town policeman. Nothing more, nothing less…
Yes, whatever he sees when he looks at the mirror at night, isn't real. That heavy presence. The realm of eldritch flames, he finds himself in every single night, isn't real. The dreams of him, slaughtering every one of his Dad's killers with a deranged smile, isn't real.
Abram Adams was just a normal boy, with small dreams and aversion to big cities.
Yes, that's it.
Build that façade. Humble and calm, patient and helpful. The world doesn't need 'IT' neither does it need you, Abram.
Go to sleep, just like how you have always been after the time… You ripped Hell, apart !
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
He opened his eyes to see a dark realm lit only an endless sea of green flames, farther than a mortal can see. Like it was a ritual, he looked up to see the void dark sky, before sighing, resting his back against a flesh-like wall…
This time he was here, once again. Only this time, of his own volition.
Seems like the parsons got it right. You can't hide from yourself, forever.
He had known ever since that 'day' after his Father was buried. When he laid beneath the covers of his bed, cursing every single person who watched his Father die. The flames of rage that overtook him, and rewrote his entire being… Making him into a being not of this world.
Abram Adams knew that he is somewhat 'unique' in a way.
But in that same vein, Abram Adams knew what would happen if he accepts his uniqueness. So he hid it, and denied its very existence with all he had.
The ever-ending loop. The dreams, and nightmares were his ways of caging the Devil, inside.
But no more… This time he won't stop it.
Groaning, Abram struggled to his feet still facing the sea of flames. His feet shook as the earth tremor from the giant rising up with him.
"Hey, uh. I just want to say, thanks for back there."
There was no answer, but he wasn't expecting one. Not when he had spent years denying 'ITs' existence.
"So, how about it? Ready for some action, big guy?"
The waves turbulently stirred like the roaring of a billion souls.
"Heh…"
Abram closed his eyes and turned as 'IT' turned. And when he opened up his eyes. Abram accepted it all…
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
The first omen began with the sky turning a sickly green.
"What's goin' on?!" Rogue said, baffled at the sudden change in the filament.
Cyclops gestured for the team to regroup immediately only to realize, that one was left behind.
Hovering in the air, while an entire area had its snow melted away. Abram held his head in pain, while agonizing growls escaped his mouth.
"Grrrrrrrrrrrr!"
Blood lightning streaked down from the skies, licking the trees, setting the forest ablaze. All around the world, various Mystics roused from their mediation. The natural laws of the world were being disturbed.
"Grrrrrrrrrrrr!"
His back tore open, as what appeared to look like a Klyntar envelop his form. But to all who recognized it would quiver in fear, crying that 'He' has finally returned.
The one who killed the Original Satan, and splintered Hell. Sealing away its main part, while the fragments were taken by beings who were now called the Hell-Lords.
A red cloth enveloped Abram's form, donning him in a shroud-like red jacket with high straight collar. Spiked bracers on his arms and greaves on his feet. The boy was gone and in his place, was a being, whose passive existence radiated terror.
Abram, or rather, Spawn roared to the Heavens as if to announce of his return.
But even so, at this moment, there is an enemy before him.
Still airborne, Spawn crouched, with space itself being pushed back. The wicked light above as his target.
With a sound of glass cracking and multiple rumblings of thunder. Spawn left a green afterglow as he zoomed into the air, clashing fist against the already waiting Redeemer.
The American continent trembled from the first blow.
Location: Mid-town Manhattan, New York, Stark Tower…
"So, what's next on the list, J.A.R.V.I.S?"
It was a dimly-lit room, located at the top of an exquisite skyscraper. All forms of contraption parts could be seen strewn around, particularly parts relating to armory. Metal armory. Sited on a hovering sophisticated chair, before a holographic display. Tony Stark rubbed his dark weary eyes, while letting out a yawn.
[We've just come back from the meeting with Senator Cornwell. So Sir, I reckon that you have at least, 30minutes to take a recess.] From the screen, a synthetized British voice answered back.
"Is that so…" Tony drawled.
Although, in his heart, the billionaire knew that he didn't have time for that. The world wasn't so peaceful enough to allow him that little respite. There was always the megalomaniacs, the tyrants, the grand schemes, and the bad guys to watch out for.
And even if he could do that –sleep that is- Nowadays, most if not all his slumbers are not exactly serene… Tony would always see 'him' haunting his dreams, every single time. Always asking that same question, again, again, and again.
'Why did you kill me, Tony?'
It was like a damn recorder that the inventor knew would haunt him for the rest of his life…
Standing up, the inventor went towards one of the tables. On it were broken remains of a circuitry, he had been working on, yesterday. But as a result of Mole-Man's monthly attack at center Manhattan, he had to put it on hold. Now, he can use this little time to tinker away.
Peacefully…
[Sir, you don't seem to be resting.]
Picking up a screwdriver, Tony threw a short glance at the screen. "Well, obviously genius."
[But you had set this time of the day for your daily siesta. This is the 8th time you are ignoring it. Sir, I worry about your health.]
"Well don't be, J.A.R.V.I.S." Tony absentmindedly replied. Putting on a vision-enhancing googles, he continued. "I'm Iron Man, and I've also gotten the Extremis virus to complement it. I'm sure that a little sleep-boycotting won't affect me, much, in the long run."
[Your dark-bags says otherwise, Sir.]
"Nice one, smartass." Tony quipped as he continued on.
But it was like the world was out to get him. Even his little alone time had been interrupted.
Suddenly, the dim room lit up in red, as a siren-like alarm rang out. It was an alarm that reverberated throughout the building. It was a stringent call, for the Earth's Mightiest Heroes to rally.
Groaning, Tony stood up to leave the room –not before gulping the lukewarm coffee- Cleaning his lips, with the back of his hands. The Man of Science spoke out to the air, knowing that J.A.R.V.I.S. would be connected to just about everywhere in the Tower.
"Give it to me, J.A.R.V.I.S. What is it this time?"
[Well, Sir. There are strange energy readings from the east-north part of the States.]
Tony raised a brow to that, somewhat confused on why that had warranted the alarm. The other certified heroes were more than enough to take care of it, right? As if sensing his master's puzzlement, J.A.R.V.I.S added.
[Estimations shows that if it isn't swiftly taken care of, the strange energy would envelop the planet.]
"Alright, now you've gotten my attention."
There were many things Tony had picked up, when he began this Hero work. But the one main rule among all that, is this: if something strange is happening, and it's affecting the entire world. Check it out immediately, or later suffer the consequences for your negligence.
Briskly walking ahead, Tony activated the machinery in his body system.
It had happened back when Tony had infected himself with the Extremis virus. After he had been grievously injured by the domestic terrorist, Mallen. It was a do or die situation. And the only way Tony had to save himself, was by taking in the same virus that gave Mallen, the power to defeat him.
Long story cut short. After the whole matter, Tony had the idea of integrating his armor with the virus and wala! Model 30 was made. A new version of the Iron Man suit that comes directly from his bones. Kinda' like nanites in his bloodstream.
Linking himself to the Avengers private network, Tony said. "Alright, guys. You've all heard the racket. So, to the meeting room in 5minutes…"
Deactivating his com, Tony gave a tired sigh rubbing his shoulders. His body, despite its apparent superhuman stats, was still suffering from traces of exhaustion. Tony knew that he couldn't deny himself some shut eyes for long…
"Maybe, J.A.R.V.I.S's right. After this mission, I suppose I'll go get some shut eye."
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Location: outside Salem Center, New York, Xavier's Institution…
Scott Summers had just finished firing a concussive blast at one of the holographic enemies, before his internal alarm informed him that he was going beyond schedule. Pulling his finger away from side of his visor. The Mutant said.
"Alright, we're done for now. Take a breather, and we'll meet here at 5."
Like an unspoken command, the room froze. The conjured battlefield faded away, revealing a large space outfitted with all sorts of technology. Particularly, hard-light technologies.
This site is the successor to the Danger Room –before the said room decided to gain its own sentience, and wreak havoc in the Institute- the Danger Cave. Banal? Yes, Scott would admit. But he wouldn't have it any other way.
'Prodigy really did a good job, on this.' Scott thought to himself.
While it wasn't on the level of the Danger Room –that was made by Mutants whose specialty lies in making stuffs that was practically impossible- the Danger Cave served as an adequate training room.
The well-built Caucasian, observed the others who were raggedly picking their-selves back up. Like always, nowadays, training sessions were cranked around 11. Unlike before, there were no quarters given.
But these days is there any other option?
Letting out a shaky breathe. The image of the massacred children that were killed in the Bus Bombing, flashed Scott's mind. Clenching his fist, to stop himself from vibrating in rage. The Mutant took that jarring memory as a means to strengthen his conviction.
'If the world is out to get us. Then we have to be ready for the world.'
He would always respect Xavier's ideal: a world were Humans and Mutants could walk together. It was truly a beautiful dream. That imagery was the main reason, why Scott could weather the insults, the curses, the fearful stares, and the hate-filled eyes…
But no more… As a result of the M-Day, the age of Mutants had ended before it even begun. The best, Scott could do is to protect the remaining Mutants he has with him. No matter what…
"Urg." Groaning, the blue hair Asian teenager raised her hands wrapped in heavy gauntlets. Stretching it upwards, with occasional lethal electric sparks sizzling out. Surge, Nori Ashida grumbled.
"My arms are really killing me. I don't think I'll be aiming much, this evening."
"Ha! Pansy." The smug rock-composed humanoid, Rockslide, Santo Vaccaro jibbed. "I can do this all day, literally."
Just as the ticked off Nori, was busy contemplating how cooked rocks would look like. Another Mutant thankfully came to Rockslide's rescue… Albeit unknowingly.
"Cut that smile out, Santo. It doesn't even look funny."
Another humanoid. This one composed of silver, scolded Rockslide.
Slithering towards the electricity discharging Mutant. The said Mutant, Mercury, reformed, resting her head upon Nori's shoulders.
"For the record, we're both 'humanoids' without a normal human's basic composition. So of course, we'll possess better endurance than the others. Or are you telling me that those stones of yours can also get tired?"
"Eh, I get your point, Mercury. And also, its rocks, not stone! It's in the name, dammit!" Rockslide huffed, as he stomped away.
Fluttering towards Mercury and Surge, the butterfly themed Mutant, Pixie, tilted her head, bemused. "Rocks and stones… Are there any differences between those two, or did I forget that in class, when Dr. McCoy had been explaining them to us?"
Nori and Cecily simultaneously shook their head, giggling in amusement.
Scott, the spectator of it all, smiled warmly. Yes, it was a known fact that the situation concerning Mutant survival was currently bleak. That was even putting it mildly. There were enemies everywhere, from both the bigotry Humans and their fellow extremist Mutants.
But for conversations like this. Simple, light banters that shows that, there was still that little light in this generation of X-Men, despite the world saying otherwise…
Scott, no, Cyclops would protect it.
Both for himself and the others who died in doing so. For that was what it truly means to be an X-Man…
White laces gloves slithered behind Cyclops. Wrapping around his décolletage, lovingly.
"Hmm… You talk of a recess, and here you are still brooding around. Mighty arrogant of you, Scott."
At her light jab, Scott gave a small smile. Swerving around, the X-Man held his wife's hand, kissing it. "Sorry about that, Emma. These days, I just seem to get carried away by the smallest things."
The blonde female-fatale huffed, dismissively. "Humph. That doesn't get to excuse your behavior, Scott. Can't you see that I worry for you?"
"And I thank you for that." Cupping his wife's cheek, Scott could still see that his words weren't enough. Sighing, he raised his hands, acquiescently.
"Alright, darling, you win. For you, I'll cancel the evening training program. The others deserve a little rest at the pace there're going."
Smiling impishly, the former White Queen added. "Then, we'll have the rest of the day for ourselves."
Beneath the visor, Scott's eyes slightly widened. "You little devil. So that was your plan, all along."
But the Omega Telepath could see that while her husband was yapping, he wasn't exactly complaining. So with a devilish smile, Emma said. "Don't tell me you've forgotten, darling. I'm the White Queen, Emma Frost."
Watching as the adult couple left the room. The Mutant whose gift was to become a fiery humanoid, Match, said while gagging. "Now that's something I definitely don't want to see."
On the other hand, Hope Abbot sighed blissfully. "What a wholesome couple, those two are."
"Eh?" Match and another telekinetic Mutant, Hellion. Stared owlishly at Hope, while voicing their doubts.
While it is true that they were not exactly experts in the matters of love –Hellion would deny that to his dying breathe- They just couldn't see their selves behaving like Mr. Scott and Mrs. Emma Frost… Their method of public affection felt too old school.
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Some moments later, when they had exited the elevator from the Danger Cave underground, in the process of crossing the lobby. Emma Frost paused, face flushing as she held the side of her arms, while her body shook.
"Pft... Ahahahahaha…"
"Emma, what's wrong?" Scott asked his wife. Who had immediately began laughing, daintily.
Shaking her head, Emma replied. "Oh, it's nothing serious, honey. Apparently, for the children, public display of affection is now considered old school, this days."
"Ah, heh." Huffing in amusement. Scott smiled, while giving a mental sigh of relief. Thankfully, it was nothing serious. Just teenagers being what teenagers are…
Rubbing his forehead. The leader of the X-Men had begun to wonder when was is it, that he had begun feeling this old. Of course, Emma still looked as beautiful as ever.
"Flattery will get you everywhere with me, Mr."
Apparently, Emma had gotten out his intentional broadcast and felt happy about that…
ᴫ׀ՓՔՋԙԹӁ
Like an ear-splitting thunder rumbling on a clear summer day. It happened suddenly.
It was like something had been switched on. Something unexplainable, momentous, and powerful. A function deemed impossible to all but the 198 plus Mutants living in small falling Kingdom of Xavier Institution had been activated.
Unprepared for the familiar assailment. Emma Frost let out a pain-filled cry. Staggering back, the telepath almost fell to the ground if not for the quick support of her husband.
"Emma! Emma!"
Giving his wife a brief shake, Scott instantly fortified his mind using techniques from the three most powerful Telepaths in his life. Scanning around, Scott noted that there weren't any screams to be heard, so it wasn't an immediate attack… Could this be a personal assault on his wife?
Scott couldn't be too sure without any form of concrete evidence… Still, Emma needed to be given more priority.
In a princess carry. Scott hoisted Emma, heading for the infirmary. It was only until they entered the lobby of the mansion did Emma rouse from her muddling headache.
"Scott, put me down." The White Queen said, groaningly.
Her left hand pressed against her skull to mitigate the pain. Letting out a wince as her feet touched the ground. Emma resisted the urge to enter her Diamond State, and just stop this banging sensation colliding against her skull.
But now that she was observing the sensation, Emma couldn't deny that while it surprised her at first, there was no denying what it meant… But the others said it was impossible.
Hasty footsteps from the spiraling stairs, drew Emma's attention to the 'Three in One.' The Cuckoos. Their simultaneous nod was what pushed in the final nail. Even though the trio all spotted anguished looks on their faces, it still didn't turn down their smiles.
Eyes widening, Emma breathed out loud. But what was totally different about that action was that, this contained joy. So it really is true, it wasn't a just a conjured imagination.
But even with everything, the White Queen just had to see it for her eyes. Emma wouldn't celebrate until she was 100% percent sure. The final light.
Thankfully, there was somewhere in the mansion that would clear everything up.
"Scott, let's go to Level 6."
"Level 6? Isn't that." Scott's paused as his voice slightly shook.
"If this is a funny joke, Emma, it isn't funny. Level 6, isn't that where the Cerebra is being kept?"
Even as Scott had asked that question, the answer felt appeared to him the next instant. While it was true that the Cerebra could detect Mutants all over the world –with some exceptions- it was currently inert. Its present setting was to only activated, when a new 'light' has been born.
His decision was silly as Henry, Doctor Strange, and many others had proven that, what Wanda had did was permanent. It had fixated with Reality to the point, it was difficult, if not impossible to even take the first step on fixing it… Scott knew he was being petulant, but what could he do.
He just wanted to hope…
Disbelievingly staring at the Cuckoos who simultaneously smiled back. Scott took in a deep breath and nodded back at Emma. It was time to see if his puerile faith is being rewarded.
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The room currently abandoned was lit ablaze. Lighting up to a sudden signal which housed a potency which the 'Mutant Detector' couldn't process. Heavily damaged, the A.I, Cerebra, device flickered with a bright green dot that illuminated the room.
It has finally happened, the symbol of the impossible. A new Mutant has been discovered!
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
- Spawn Ω Archetype-
You know that saying of, when it rains, it pours. Or something relating to that proverb.
Now, Abram Adams could say he had experienced many form of hardships after the death of his Father. The alienation, the annoying stares, the satiric mummers…
But there was 'Nothing,' absolutely, 'Nothing!' that could have prepared Abram for this!
"Heave, ho! Heave, ho! Heave, ho! Heave, ho! Heave, ho...!"
"What are you doing, Abram?"
Looking down, while he cycled. The African-American regarded Jeffery, while breathing heavily. The snow-minted streets had turned back into blurs of white, as Abram rode away. By now, Abram could honestly say that he had broken all of his previous speed records.
Hell, with the speed Abram was going. He estimates, he could probably compete with a motorcycle… And maybe even win.
"Wha-What am I doing…?! Kid. You've just utter out a scary name, while adding the word 'Mutant Hunter' to it. So what does it look like I'm doing?!"
Jeffery wisely mummed to the reply he got. Shaking off a snowflake off his hair, the Mutant reclined back to Abram to support himself from falling off.
'The speed this bicycle is going at is unreal.' Jeffery thought in awe.
Maybe it was possible that Abram didn't recognize it. But as someone who once lived with many superhumans –especially the ones whose gifts were some sort of body enhancement- Jeffery could tell that Abram's pedaling could compete with their running speed.
But what clinched it, was when Jeffery looked towards where the bicycle handle is. Abram couldn't see it, but Jeffery clearly could. The bicycle's hand grip looked wrapped around Abram's hands… Like it had been pressed like soft mud.
"Abram, your handle!"
"Hmm, my handle?" The African-American echoed, bemused. His puzzled look turned to one of shock when he noticed that his hand had sunk into tough rubber, bending the hollow metal!
"Dullahan!"
Rather than questioning himself on how he was even doing that. Abram felt like crying at the sight of a damaged Dullahan! It cost him quite a lot, you know!
Jeffery was just about to question if Abram was just like him, when the air trembled with a roar!
Looking back. Abram swallowed loudly, unable to get rid of the lump in his throat. The blurred space was gone, in its place was a platinum humongous robot?! Of over 14feet, it stayed stationary.
But Abram would swear on all he had, that it was looking right at him!
"Agh! Heave, ho! Heave, ho! Heave, ho! Heave, ho! Heave, ho...!"
That was all he could do. Pedal, and trust that his human legs could get him far away from that mechanized monstrosity.
Ω
[Time stamp period arrival… Confirmed.]
[Crosscheck with Time Archives... Analysis, complete.]
Its soulless synthetized voice, echoed across the barren area, just some meters away from the billboard-sign, which welcomed all visitors to an undescriptive town in the States. Its body was enveloped in a purplish aura, as it remained dormant.
No, that wasn't it. The giant Omega Sentinel, 'Nimrod' was rebooting.
[Time to full operational status… 20minutes.]
20minutes wasn't much to the mechanized being, whose specs granted him the ability to waltz through beings comparable to Natural Destruction. But the Omega Sentinel wouldn't take this chance.
Its input and directive had showed it what would happen to anyone that took 'him' lightly… Or rather, what had remained of them.
Two shapely partitions on its cranium, which could be likened to a skull. Gave off a reddish gleam.
[Scanning: Target biometrics… Match found.]
If the Omega Sentinel could laugh, it would have. For its target was currently before it. Just over 600metres away, and Nimrod couldn't move as a result of its rebooting time. A thorough observation had shown that 'IT' was already rousing. Although, it is still in its preliminary stage.
While this wasn't favorable to Nimrod. This was much better than fighting 'IT' being fully active… For that would have been the worst case scenario.
[Releasing, Secondary Units… Inputting imperative data.]
The space around Nimrod rippled, like a small stone dropped into a still pond. Rabid growls followed soon after, as metal-like monsters pushed themselves out. Their sliver skin gleamed, while corrosive saliva dripped out from their mouths, melting the snow below.
[All Units: Proceed attack on Primary Target… Spawn .]
Letting out a spine chilling howl that will haunt anyone who hears it, forever more. Over 40 Predator X, charged forward with only murder in their desolate minds… The murder of a non-descript boy, who was currently pedaling for his life.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
Was it even possible for Abram to feel colder than he was, before now?
Ghoulish howls echoed behind Abram. Chilling the 16years to the point that he felt like he was walking naked in the arctic cold. Looking behind, the world zoomed in as Abram let out a frightened cry at what he saw.
"What the ever living fuck are those things?"
Creatures, a crisscross between dinosaurs and lizards, dashed towards them at frightening speeds. At the rate of their pursuit, Abram knew there was no way he could shake them off…
"Argh! Dammit! Jeffery. Hold on to the side of the grip… I'm gonna' up the throttle."
Seeing that the Mutant quickly did so. Abram narrowed his eyes, pushing Dullahan even more.
'Please, don't fail me now, partner.' Abram prayed.
The boy's desperate plea was answered with the stirring of a monster…
Ω
IT eyes brightened as its eldritch flames stirred, burning with a soul bewitching luminance. The seal has loosened just a little bit. But with just this little bit, IT can lend a sliver of its power.
… To his present self.
Ω
IT eyes brightened as its eldritch flames stirred, burning with a soul bewitching luminance. The seal has loosened just a little bit. But with just this little bit, IT can lend a sliver of its power.
… To his present self.
Ω
His eyes lit up with a verdant hue. Letting out a surprised cry, Abram felt an indescribable sensation course through him. An invigoration that felt too addictive, warmed his body. If Abram could equate it, he would likened to a Level Up.
… Endless Level Ups.
To the outside world, Jeffery watched on in fascination. The hands that gripped the handles were enveloped in pale green flames. The flames spread out, submerging even the bicycle. Altering the cycle in accordance to the mysterious flames.
The normal road bicycle gained mass. Its yellow frame turned jet black. Parts of its chassis vanished, and was replaced by an... Engine?!
"What's going on?" Abram hollered, in alarm.
His feeling of elevation rose a little, and before his very eyes. His Dullahan, bicycle became a Dullahan, chopper. And that was not even mentioning its motif… While it was childish of him, this was exactly how Abram imagined Dullahan to be, when he had bought it.
It was a facsimile of how the skull-lit Hero from Hell: Ghost-Rider's famous chopper, looked like. The flames. The skulls… Hell, even the speedometers were replaced by 2skulls opening and gnashing their aged teeth, while their eye sockets were lit up in green flames.
Now, the main question everyone might be asking, is this: Why isn't Abram crying out in fear as all this was transpiring?
Firstly. Because he doesn't have the luxury to do so, due to those fiendish looking beasts that were currently gaining up on them… And also, someone was already doing the freaking out for him.
"Abram, what's going on?!" Jeffery jittered.
Releasing his hold due to the sudden space. Turning back, Jeffery noticed in no small amount of surprise, that Abram's eyes were radiating a Jaden glow. When the African-American opened up his mouth a little, eldritch flames spewed out scorching the air.
Although to Jeffery, even though the toxic-looking flames were currently leaving a trial of melted snow. The Mutant felt strangely warm… It wasn't hot to Jeffery in the slightest.
"Since when could you do this?"
"Me~?! I thought that you were the one doing this!" Abram said. Trying not to think about how he was expertly driving a chopper. When he never had one in his life.
It was strange, freaky, and strange again…
"If I could do this, would I have ran away from those mob?"
"Well, I don't know… Maybe, you can only give people this powers, or something."
"I've got the ability to Teleport, and become like a Ghost… Although at the moment, my powers strangely seem to not be working, at all. But still, I don't think I can actually do this."
Revving up, Abram took a sharp turn. Snow turned into steam due to the fiery wheels, while Abram gazed back with his teeth tightly clenched. Even though, Dullahan's speed had increased, those monsters were still catching up…. Wait!
"Where's the one at the side?" Abram muttered, silently.
The pursuing creatures were a metres away from Abram and Jeffery. But there were at least, 2 of them that were ahead of the pack. Now he could only see 1. Where is the other one?
"Abram, watch out!"
Jeffery's alarmed warning whirled Abram to the left. In the air, in a pouncing pose, Predator X opened its maw to claim its prize.
Normally, the bio-weapons weren't inputted with such kind of hunting strategy. They were meant to be beasts of destruction without reason… Normally, that is.
But this series of Predator X were very different: Apart from being much stronger than the preceding series. This variety of Weapon X were encoded with a hunter kind of mentality.
Although, their brutality weren't taken away. It was an unwritten code that all Mutants were to die a painful death…
It wasn't much when looked at from a distance. But to all who have fought these monstrosities, this was the worst case scenario: a Killing Machine that could think…
"!"
Two tons of bio- engineered carnage fell upon its prey with a ravenous hunger. Corrosive maw opened wide to gobble up its query…
Nevertheless, Nimrod wouldn't have need this much Predator X, if it was this simple, would it?
Abram made a move. An action born from an instinctive need to protect himself, and the one with him.
Reckless? Yes. But what was Abram supposed to do?
Roaring, Abram thrusts his left hand sweltering in green flames. The strangeness that was going on with him. Abram was betting on it to protect them both, once again…
And Abram's faith was rewarded…
That strange sensation from before, occurred once again. From Abram's outstretched arm. A giant phantom-like arm composed of emerald flames shot out, catching the Predator X midair by its dewlap.
"?!"
Its confusing squalls still didn't protect the Predator X from being incinerated by the fiery appendage. Its regenerative potency was rendered useless before the scorching flames. It wasn't even an instant later, all Abram held were bones… Instant Finishing!
Even Abram's light toss, threw the Predator X's charred skeleton with the velocity of a bullet! A metal-like blur flew crashing the trees behind it, never stopping. Only exploding into metal-like shards, when it collided against a large rock, hundreds of metres away.
"Whoa…" Abram muttered looking as the spectral arm vanished. His arm resuming back its flaming appearance. A small smile bloomed out about his new, well… Power of sorts.
Looking back, Abram now watched the remaining pursuing Predator X without fear. The African-American now knew that he could fight back.
"Come at me if you wanna' to end up like your friend over there, pieces of shit!"
Meanwhile, Jeffery was of a different thought process. More than curiosity over Abram's new ability. The Mutant was concerned about the appearance of a Predator X.
'Nimrod and Predator Xs… I don't think that has ever happened before. This isn't even a matter of precedence, as I don't think I can warrant such a deployment. But then, that leaves…'
"Abram…"
Watching the speeding African-American, Jeffery held his tongue. This wasn't important at the moment. Getting alive is what matters for now. The rest could be handled at a much more discreet location…
If that was even possible…
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
The Time-Travelling 'Mutant Hunter' is finally ready to join in the fray.
[System online… Reboot complete.]
A smooth mechanical hum incanted out, as the Omega Sentinel made its first movement. Its head craned up. Under its feet, a pulsing light as Nimrod began to ascend.
Like Nimrod had speculated, not even the famed Predator Xs were able to bring the 'Designation' to heel. The 'target' was that powerful. What was even worse is that, in all this, the said 'target' hadn't even utilized its Mutant ability. This was just the dregs of his heredity.
It had to take out the 'Designation' before any more complication comes up!
*Boom*
Tanned street cratered below as Nimrod ascended 1000metres in an instant. Its inherent scanning function spotted the said 'target' tearing apart air barriers, encroaching the speed of sound. Strangely, there was another individual with the said 'target'. A Mutant, it seems. So it wasn't really a problem.
[Collateral within acceptable parameters… Beginning hunt.]
Its visor gleamed, but just as Nimrod was just about to streak towards the 'target,' a yellow column of light flashed by the Omega Sentinel blocking its path. Pausing, Nimrod regarded the new arrival.
"Yeah Tony, I can see it."
The one who just spoke was a blonde hair strapping man. Dressed in yellow spandex, donning a dark-blue cape. But what was most prominent was the glowing 'S' lodged upon his suit. It was a symbol of power. To the world, the bearer of this symbol was a being of unlimited power.
To even the Omega Sentinel, this new arriver could be classified as an 'Extinction Level Threat.' He is an unstable being who must be handled with utmost care. The Sentry.
[Sifting parameters to engage mode… Readying Thrusters.]
"Not so fast, I-robot!"
A red blur shot towards the gigantic robot, slamming into it. Iron Man kept up the pursuit. Calling up miniaturized missiles from his armor's shoulder compartment, sending it towards Nimrod who had yet to retaliate.
*KaBoom*
The sky lit up in flames with a resounding noise. But Iron Man knew that this wasn't enough to take it. Thankfully, the iron-themed Hero had a team that was good in deconstruction work.
"Tony, why did you attack it first? We still don't know what this robot wants."
"Ah, Carol." Iron Man said towards the woman in a dark one-piece, that had a golden lightning streak on it. Pointing towards the explosion, Tony explained.
"That, right there is called 'Nimrod.' I'm not sure if you've read the X-files, but this metal scrap is apparently a big deal. A time traveling Mutant serial-killer."
"You don't say…" The 'Quinjet' was just entering the battlefield as its pilot, the Legendary Spy, 'Black Widow' drawled as she had finally arrived.
Although once again, she was the last person to do so. Natasha decided the next thing Tony would be upgrading would be the Quinjet.
"Yep," Popping the 'P' word. Iron Man continued. "So for that metal head to even be here, it means that there is someone it's after. Someone it wants to kill."
"Uh, hey." The pacifist Hero composed of Ion, 'Wonder Man' spoke out, calling on his teammate's attention.
"Do you think this Nimrod could be after those guys?"
Simon Williams gestured towards an eerie sight that could only be detected by a being possessing enhanced vision.
Thankfully, most of the Heroes present had a way to compensate for that.
A tiny fluttering light increased in mass, revealing 'Wasp' who tilted her head, in bemusement.
"Huh. Is something wrong with this visor, or did the Ghost Rider just went on a fashion change?"
Janet couldn't spot it fully. But she captured the glimpse of the streaking vehicle that was heading towards the city, through the aid of her visor.
Bones. Green flames. And its rider enveloped in the said flames… That just had to be the Ghost Rider.
Inside the Qunijet. The Grecian Deity, 'Aries,' watched the captured image of flaming rider. Eyes beneath the war helmet narrowed in suspicion. He had seen those flames somewhere, and more importantly…
"That is not the Rider of Hell." The Olympian's voice rumbled to his teammates through the intercom.
"What'd you say, big guy?" Carol Danvers, codename 'WarBird' asked in puzzlement.
"I said. That, is not the Rider of Hell. Those flames. They look familiar. Not to mention that, its presence holds a great similarity to an archaic story, my Father use to regale me with, during my youthful years. A tale of verdant flames that precedes even the Infinity Stones."
That arrested everyone's attention. Anything that holds even a modicum of relationship with the reality-altering rocks, deserves a scouring consideration placed to it.
Clapping his metal hands, Tony gestured towards the hovering Heroes.
"Alright… Wasp. Do you think you're up for checking out, who's our flaming caricature friend, over there?"
"I'm on it." Wasp nodded.
But an instant later, her path was blocked off by a white gamma beam. It streaked down with a bright flash. Not a moment later, over 200metres in diameter silently vanished leaving a deep hole in the earth. Tress, snow, and rocks, all gone in an instant.
The obscuring smoke wafted off, revealing Nimrod. Its malformed large left arm was now a giant cannon. As the Heroes prepared for confrontation, the Omega Sentinel synthesized voice reverberated in the air.
[Hold yourselves, Avengers… My task doesn't seek conflict with your cohorts. I only seek the elimination of the 'target.']
"Well, I don't think so, Bay-Max. We aren't about to let you commit murder." WarBird said clenching her gloved fist tightly.
The cosmic energy within the half-breed Hero stirred for an outlet.
Catching the eyes of Sentry, WarBird gave a light nod. A fight was about to erupt at any second.
[… … In that case. Begin, Auxiliary Function.]
Space ripped as WarBird and Sentry broke the sound-barrier. But it was already too late.
[Activate Unit… Omega Sentinels II]
The chassis of Nimrod shook. Before the Heroes eyes. One became two, and two became four. The Omega Sentinel divided or rather, replicated till the skies were populated with the robotized Mutant Hunters.
The Prime, Omega Sentinel, called up its 'subsidiaries' to serve as a barrier from the charged of the 2powerhouses. Nimrod was sure that its Vector Shield could protect him from an assault from WarBird and the Sentry, but it wouldn't be capable of taking in continuous punishment.
*Boom*
Iron Man let loose another round of scorching beam from his hands, wearing a grimace. At this rate, Tony was sure the Avengers couldn't reach Nimrod with all his clones running around. The Avenger could see why the said robot was a High Class Threat.
But nevertheless, they could at least get to the 'target' before the mecha-assassin.
"Wasp!" Iron Man shouted amidst the stringent discordance.
Thankfully, Janet seemed to have gotten the message. With a quick nod, the shrinking Hero, shot ahead becoming a dot in the distance.
Just as Nimrod was about to resume pursuit of its 'target.' It paused, raising its Vector Shield just in time to stop a blow from Wonder Man.
"Leaving so soon, Nimrod? Oh, don't be such a spoilsport."
Eye outlets gleamed as Nimrod rushed towards the ion Hero with a surprising strength! Its lancing charge containing enough velocity to push and crack Wonder Man's ribs!
Grunting, Wonder Man gritted his teeth in pain. The robot's spear attack hurt more than he expected. And this was coming from a guy who wouldn't die from nuclear bombs.
"Be careful, Wonder Man!" Iron Man said. Weaving through a danmaku of beams from Nimrod's duplicate before returning fire.
"That machine possess enough specs to clash with the Juggernaut, and win! It's a Hulk level Class!"
"Couldn't you have said that earlier?" Wonder Man grumbled. Rubbing his already healing torso.
A powerful beam pushed away Nimrod as WarBird joined in. From the looks of it, all the lasers being thrown around must have given her enough juice. Her glow was brighter than usual.
"You alright there, Williams?" WarBrid asked. Floating towards the Ion Hero while giving him a cursory look.
Cleaning the edge of his lips, Simon Williams smirked. "Worried about me, Carol?"
"From the looks of it, you seem to be alright then."
"Oh come on, don't be so cold."
"We're in the battlefield, Williams, not… Anywhere else."
A loud holler drew their attention. On top of the Quinjet that was busy firing armor piercing bullets. Aries stood, screaming to the heavens while swishing his large axe left and right. Bisecting any unfortunate robot that came close to his axe.
"I am not going to be yelling like him, am I?" William said, with an eye twitching.
Carol who felt a little bit awkward at the Olympian's rather 'war-like' behavior, shook her head.
"Well, not like Aries. But rather, you can learn from his enthusiasm. You are an Avenger, Wonder Man!"
With that the half-Kree became a golden blur, shooting back into the fight.
"Enthusiasm?" Wonder Man fixed his glasses. "I'll show you, enthusiasm, Carol."
Not a minute later, the air rumbled as the 100Class Hero let loose.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
[Sir, incoming aircraft by your right.]
Pushing away an Omega Sentinel II's hold. Iron Man flipped over, unleashing a Uni-Beam on the robot's back. Pausing, he turned towards his right, but all the rather dangerous 'colors' and smolder prevented him from seeing properly.
Iron Man didn't bother to put on enhanced vision mode. Gripping a nearby Sentinel by its arm, he hurled it towards its soulless companions resulting in an explosion of mangled metal.
"So who is it, then?"
[Sir… It's the X-Men.]
Iron Man hovered for a moment, before clicking his teeth.
"Shit."
As a result of Decimation Day, and the subsequent reduction of the Mutant Race to a mere 198 –Although, Tony didn't believe that the numbers were exactly that- the Mutants were not exactly included in the Civil War, as their numbers were already accounted for.
From what he heard from Charles. The X-Men were holing up in their Institute. Only going out to help their fellow Mutants who were in trouble as a result of the M-Day. While that sounded kinda like Heroics, Tony decided that due to their unique situation, he could give them a pass.
So he decided not to include them in the Registration… They weren't going to be a problem in the near future.
But this. How was Tony supposed to handle this?
While it was an unspoken rule, that all Mutant Cases were to be handled by the X-Men and their associates. This was turning out to be a bigger deal than he thought. Tony could try forcing them to leave due to not being 'Registered.' But that would just open up a can-worm of problems.
Problems, Tony Stark didn't want to deal with at the moment…
'God. I really wish I hadn't sworn to stop drinking.'
"Ah, screw it. I'll just say it was a 'heat of the moment' decision."
Shunting away the part that called himself, a hypocrite. Tony ignored the approaching aircraft while his arms kept on discharging cremating lasers. Thankfully, there were enough opponents to serve as an outlet for Iron Man.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
"Hey, isn't that, Nimrod?!" The green skin Mutant with lizard properties, Victor Borkowski, said in no small amount of shock.
In the 'BlackBird,' an air cruiser with a record of speed of 3times faster than sound. Its large compartment housed the present combat-ready X-Men for what would be a very important mission.
It was a mission that enabled them to even disregard the Sentinels stationed around their Institute.
"En effet, ça l'est. There is no mistaking that metal monstrosity. It seems like we're at the right location." Monet St. Croix nodded her head, eyeing the Omega Sentinel darkly.
Meanwhile sited at the front row. Cyclops studied the metal opponent, while with no small amount of trepidation, due to his team not possessing the required fighters needed for such an adversary. The X-Man was ironically happy that the Mutant Hunter was actually there.
For it meant, what he saw at Level 6 wasn't just some conjured delusion.
Turning to his wife, who was currently concentrating, Cyclops asked. "Emma, have you gotten the new Mutant, yet?"
Even with her eyes closed, the Omega Telepath let out a smile.
"Now, darling. I know you are impatient, but please don't rush me… There, I've gotten him. I only know that he's there. But I can't seem to reach his mind... More like, huh. My own psyche is against me even trying that. There is something within the Mutant. Something I institutively don't want to see."
To Cyclops, this was surprising, as while it could be said that even as an Omega Telepath, Emma wasn't the overall strongest in the field. But the number of people, she was afraid of battling telepathically were well… Nil.
Sighing, Emma opened her eyes, regarding Cyclops.
"And I also have good news and bad news. Which one do you want to hear first?"
'I just had a feeling that things might turn out this way.' Scott exhaled. Rubbing the edge of his eyes. "Give me the bad news, first."
Rubbing his shoulder, Emma said. "For one. Our Mutant seems be pursued by a horde of bio-engineered monsters, the Predator Xs."
"Hold on a minute, Emma. Ya mean tha' say, it's the Abominations those purifin' folks created is actually out there in the streets, chasin' our Mutant friend?" The beautiful brunette whose hair had a streak of white, Rogue cut in disbelievingly.
"But them freaks and time-travelling killer-robo. Since when did those two work together?!"
Emma shrugged. "Are you asking me? All, I'm saying is that the familiarity of their ferociousness exposed their nature, and also… They're over twenty-four of them."
A cold breeze passed through the compartment over the piece of news. To all who knew how dangerous those monsters were, knew that the monsters had to be fought with care. Any form of carelessness could result to death.
A painful death…
It was after some seconds, that Scott cleared his throat.
"This just proves that there is something to our new friend that could benefit the Mutantkind. And Nimrod doesn't want us to have it. So, Emma, what's the good news?"
"The good news is that there is someone else with him. Someone we all thought was dead. Jeffery Garret."
"Jeffery Garret! Are you truly sure, it's Jeffery Garret?!" Sited beside Colossus. Xuân Cao Mąnh, codename Karma, shot up from her seat. Her eyes watered in a gamut of emotion.
Not bothering to wait for answer. Karma shut her eyes, as a pinkish aura bloomed around her crown. She employed upon her own lesser telepathic prowess. Not a minute passed, a line of waterworks flowed down her cheek, but the Viennese couldn't stop smiling.
"It's him. It's really him… But I thought that on 'that' day, he lost his powers and disappeared."
At the back sitting with her teammates, Surge felt mummed as she heard the news from the adult's discussion.
The electricity Mutant had always regarded Jeffery as her little brother, and his death on the M-Day due to his power-loss hit Surge in more ways than one. She could only keep it hidden. The pain and the anguish. Lives in their thousands were lost that 'day.'
Even those who had lost their Mutant abilities weren't spared…
But now hearing that Jeffery could actually be alive. It was like a dream. A dream that she fears is just a conjured fantasy.
A hand placed on Surge, no, Noriko's shoulder. Turning to see Trance's supportive nod and Match's thumbs up, Surge smiled nodding back. Noriko would cry later, but Surge has to bring a Mutant back home.
"Alright, everyone listen up."
Cyclops stood up. He looked around, feeling a bit proud to see the determined looks on their faces. Apart from some old faces, Cyclops reckon it'll be just like the old days…
Yep, it's official. Scott Summers now feels like an old man.
"Rogue. Monet. Hellion. Warpath. You'll run the air interference. From what I can see, the Avengers are getting Nimrod preoccupied. But we still don't want any unknown stranglers catching us unprepared."
The addressed X-Men, promptly nodded.
"Surge. Match. Armor. Pixie. Rockslide. Mercury. Your job is to let loose on the Predator X."
Cyclops knew that the children weren't ready to get down with the Predator Xs. But that is why he was here. Besides, this was better than going against Nimrod and his persistent adaptability.
"All X-Men with mental capabilities will support Emma Frost in jumbling the beasts mind… And if need be, the Avengers, also. The rest of you will be with me."
Looking towards the pilot seat, Cyclops gestured at Sage to open the hatch. As the cold artic blew in, Cyclops gave his team a final nod.
"Alright, X-Men. Let's get this done and bring our Mutants home."
Rockslide pounded his fist together in excitement. "Now I'm getting pumped up!"
- Spawn Ω Archetype-
"Are-Are-Are those… The Avengers?!"
Even with ravenous beasts hankering for both Abram and Jeffery's flesh, and the roaring of his new improved Dullahan. –Oh, he is so keeping this chopper by the end of this debacle- The battle taking place in the sky was still loud enough to draw Abram's attention.
Now imagine the African-American's surprise when the most recognized Heroic group in the world were fighting just above him. Man, Sylvia would never believe this. Heck, Abram is even having trouble believing himself. Maybe, this is all some fabricated fever dream.
But unfortunately, Abram knew that his dreams were much worse than this.
"Hmm. Thankfully they seem to have drawn away Nimrod's attention from us." Jeffery, who Abram was suspecting is actually a bigger deal than he thought, noted calmly.
"Is that really all you have to say, kid?! There are bonafide superhumans fighting just above our heads, here." Abram hollered in astonishment.
"They're the kind of ones, whose battles always ends in an expensive collateral damage!"
This was why Abram said the heart-wrenching action of the city just wasn't for him. Is this the prize for his good deed?
"But Abram… What am I supposed to say? Welcome to the world of crazies."
"Well, I respectfully deny that world!"
Frustrated tears welled up. With a scream, Abram threw his hand backwards. Backhanding a nearby Predator X with his spectral arm. But then their movement suddenly changed.
"!"
Two of the Predator X expertly dodged a heavy swing. Shooting towards the 16years old in hot pursuit. To Abram, this was the confirmation of one scary fact.
"Dammit, I suspected as much. But these bastards are actually learning in a fight? This isn't a fucking Xianxia, you know!"
Both said Predators flanked Dullahan. One by his right, the other his left. It might actually be a trick of light, or just the hectic pandemonium getting to him. But Abram could have sworn they were actually smirking at him.
'Shit! They gonna' attack from both sides.'
The action the Predator Xs took was actually rational. Since their 'target' had begun the decimation of its brethren, the Predators had took notice of one fact. The 'target' had only used his left hand in calling up that ability. But what if they go to the 'target's' other side?
While that meant that one of the monsters would have to sacrifice itself, it wasn't really a problem. The Predator Xs prime directive was what mattered most in the end.
"!"
Simultaneously, the Predators pounced. Rather than going straight for the gobble, their maws opened spookily and corrosive saliva globs flew out. Their saliva had enough potency to melt a normal human into an unrecognizable goo in less than 4seconds.
Their 'target' was done... If he were an ordinary target, that is.
The skull head-light roared, and the motorcycle did a spinning hop, twirling 5metres into the air! Abram watched in slow motion as both lobbed acids flew pass him. The verdant vibrancy increased. With a rattle, and an itching sensation, energy chains flew out from Abram's spine.
There were over ten of the spectral chains wriggling in the air. Five each, heading for airborne Predators.
"-!"
Both bio-engineered monsters could only let one last whine, before they were skewered and subsequently incinerated.
Landing with a heavy bounce, both chopper occupants remained quiet for some seconds. But then a new voice cut in, saying in an impressed tone.
"Nice moves, Mr. Not Ghost Rider."
"Gyaah!"
Letting out a terrified cry, a torrent of pale green flames flew from Abram's mouth. Fortunately, the stranger skillfully dodged the surge which subsequently evaporated the area where it struck.
"Yikes, seems like I've reached my quota for being almost vaporized in 1day." After some seconds later, the voice –now feminine- said with a tinge of morbid amusement.
As Abram calmed down, he now studied the owner of the said voice. She was an adult woman dressed dark bodysuit with yellow accents, and a visor headgear. But even that 'eccentric' outfit didn't prevent the African-American from recognizing her.
Hell, he had always been seeing the woman on most of the fashion magazines, Sylvia likes to read. And then there's her other occupation…
Audibly swallowing, Abram thought. 'Wait a minute. Did I almost kill the Wasp with flames, just now?'
Meanwhile, Janet eyes widened beneath her helmet. "Hmm? You're both just kids! Why in the world is that robot after you, two?"
The Hero had made that observation after seeing the youthfulness of one, and the childishness of the other. It was more of a maternal instinct that made her to utter such a statement.
"I-I-I don't know, mam." Abram cursed his stuttering, but could he help it. He is beside what could be akin to a world celebrity, here.
"It just suddenly appeared, and th-then began sending these monsters after us."
Wasp stared at the boy for a minute, before sighing. She really isn't cut out for interrogation work.
'I don't think normal interrogation is even going to cut for this.'
The intimidating appearance of the boy, coupled with that kind of power. Not to mention, the kind of monsters after him… Anyway, the first thing to be done is to take them to a safe location. Luckily, the boy's ride would help a ton in keeping up with her.
"Alright, kid. How about you follow me. I'll take you to somewhere safe away, from these monsters."
But then Jeffery immediately cut in. "There's no need to do so, mam."
Abram cut in nonplussed. "Oi, what do you mean by that?"
The blonde Mutant only smiled. "Because the cavalry has just arrived."
[To me, my X-Men!]
With that battle cry. The bio-monsters behind the trio were bombarded with lightning and fire. Looking back, Abram felt his breath hitch at the sight of another fantastical group of individuals.
A lady encased in a pink armor, who was stomping and punching the monstrosities. A rock looking humanoid, that was probably male, and a female humanoid made of silver, who were slicing and pounding. In the air was another fiery humanoid, letting flames loose, and a blue hair lady who was riding a cycle, hurling lightning.
"Uh, Jeffery. Are those guys perhaps…" Abram trialed off. His mind getting overloaded at the sight of such abilities up-close. Dammit, he's just a normal mail-boy…!
Well, he was until now…
Nodding with a smile at the sight of familiar faces, Jeffery replied. "Yes, they are. They're Mutants."
Just as Wasp was about to question why the X-Men were here. She was struck with a light headache, before a familiar voice echoed in her head.
(Hey, Janet.)
Letting out an annoyed wheeze. Janet cradled her head, angrily looking towards where an air cruiser had appeared. The size-altering Hero, knew whose voice that was. In fact, she could already see the blonde, dressed in her lavish white uniform, waving at her from the frontal pane.
"What are you doing in my head, Emma Frost…?"
(Oh, come on now. Don't be so belligerent, sweetheart. We're only here to rescue our fellow Mutants.)
"First of all. I'm not your sweetheart! And second, Mutants?! As in the two of them?"
Abram who broke her words down a bit, blinked flummoxed. "Does she mean me? Am I a Mutant?"
It sounded stupid just asking, but Abram needed a verbal confirmation to be sure. This was just getting out of hand. After all, he thought after Decimation Day, Mutants weren't a thing, anymore! But here he is, chucking out flames and transforming bicycle into badass choppers.
Jeffery who was still connected to the Telepathic network, sighed. Before he then heard a familiar voice in his head. One, which had a familiarity that almost brought him to tears.
(Jeffery, can you hear me? It's Noriko.)
'Noriko… Yeah, I can hear you.'
(Jeffery! Th-Thank God. I really feared that it was all a lie. That you weren't alive, I was afraid to hope. I'm so happy that I've been proven wrong.)
'Thanks, Noriko. But even I don't know how I'm even alive.'
(We'll all go into that later. When we're back at the Institute, both you and your fiery friend.)
'Yeah, till then, Noriko.'
(Be right with you, Jeffery.)
With a crackling sound, the potency of electricity bombardment behind Jeffery increased. Surge smiled, letting loose on the bio-beasts that stood between her and her little bro. This time she wouldn't let anything happen to him. This she swears.
Abram, the one who apparently hadn't been linked, could only blink nonplused. "Um, Miss. Wasp, I mean Mrs.-"
The addressed Heroine waved her hand. "No, I'm now back to Miss, once again. But please just call me, Wasp."
'Now that's awkward.' Abram thought. "Ok~ well… Wasp. Am I still supposed to follow you, wherever you're going?"
Wasp eyed the Blackbird, and then the Mutants who were already rounding up the remaining Predator Xs for Cyclops to pulverize. Iron Man had told her check out who Nimrod was after, and while that also implied that she ought to take them to safety. Wasp couldn't just take them away from their fellow Mutant hands.
She was also sure that they wouldn't allow her to do so if she tried…
'Tony did say, I was only supposed to check out who was the mysterious rider is. Not to take them away. And besides, it's not like they're hidden. Xavier's Institute is literally in the same city as the Avenger's Tower.'
With that line of thought, Wasp said. "No need, you can follow those guys. They'll take you somewhere safe."
Watching as the aircraft landed in an open field just some meters away. Abram rubbed the edge of his eyes, wearily.
'After today. Both I and Sylvia are hitching the nearest bus ride to an unknown town. This excitement isn't just for me.'
- Spawn Ω Archetype-
Batting away the Sentry, Nimrod enveloped itself within a hexagonal barrier. The barrier could only withstand 9seconds of punishment. But for a robot with a processing unit, comparable to quantum computers. It was enough.
As expected, the Predator X units had failed.
This was within Nimrods calculations. For if only those bio-weapons were needed, then it wouldn't have been summoned to eliminate the 'target.' But then, the following complications weren't within its computations.
The Avengers and the X-Men. Two teams containing heavy-hitters that would surely slow the Omega Sentinel down. And if the 'target' escapes, and perchance, finds out even an iota of what his Mutant ability really is…
There will be no stopping him… The Omega Sentinel has no other choice. The robot has to bring ' Its ' true designated form out. Consequences be damned. Even if the Higher Authorities discover what its nature is. The 'target' must not escape!
[Omega Sentinel, 'Nimrod' going offline.]
Wonder Man paused, after colliding two of the Omega Sentinel II craniums, together.
"Hey, guys. I think our metal friend here's, about to do something, really bad."
To Iron Man that just meant one thing… They had to take it down, and do it fast!
"Everyone, forget about the Sentinels! Just fly through them, all! Stop Nimrod from doing whatever it's about to do!"
Multiple 'Booms' cracked the air, as all the heavy hitters zipped for the encased Omega Sentinel.
Lasers, capable of toppling mountains flew from Sentry's eyes. White mixed with orange, as both WarBird and Iron Man shot their attacks at full power. Even the God of War jumped off the Quinjet, axe raised up high, and ready to destroy his adversary.
It was a glorious picture. A combination of their present attack would have even sundered a planet larger than Jupiter. Against a single robot. One that while possesses the power of the Hulk, didn't have the Hulk's regenerative potency was sure to be an overkill.
But then, even this level of output was within the Omega Sentinel's calculations.
[Donning 'Celestial Armory,' uploading form… The Redeemer .]
Heaven's Wrath…
It was like the dawning of a new star. With a blinding luminesce, the array of attacks capable of shattering a planet simply dispersed. And when the glow died, in the place of the Mutant Hunter… Was a futuristic 'Angel.'
Nimrod, or rather, the Redeemer's armor was white mixed with gold, 'celestial' gold. It had a helmet of the same color with gold accents, and most notably on its back was a halo made from the yellow aura, it was currently emanating.
Undaunted, Sentry appeared at the Redeemer's side, fist pulled back for a haymaker. But faster than the solar-based Hero could process. The Redeemer's hand clamped Sentry's throat. It gave the Sentry a little glance and then flung him… Into the reaches of space.
Iron Man could only watch in shock, as his heaviest-hitter was easily taken out by the robot. Why hadn't it done so in the first place? Wasn't in his mind. But rather, for Nimrod, or whatever it was now, to bring this 'form' out. Meant it was getting desperate.
'And let's keep it that way.'
"Avengers… Assemble-!"
The Redeemer wasn't going to give them any chance. They already had their try, now it's the Redeemer's turn.
Raising both arms, the Sentinel produced a small orb which it promptly smashed. An omnidirectional ripple spread out, pushing away the thick snowy clouds and the Avengers with it. While the fliers were going to be alright. The Quinjet spun, careening against the side of a nearby mountain. Aries followed not long after… But the rest were miles away.
To even the superhumans. It would take at least some seconds to orient themselves, as the force within the Redeemer's hit was quite powerful. –Comparable to the Hulk's backhand- Which would give the Redeemer time to settle this once and for all.
Taking an aiming position, yellow pixel blocks manifested in the Redeemer's hand. As the light died down, what remained was a firearm with an appearance of large sniper gun. But it was actually a particle rail-gun.
It's scanning showed the Redeemer that some of the members of the X-Men were heading for it. But they, like the Avengers were too late. The edge of rail-gun's barrel glowed with a sacred light.
As the Redeemer aimed a Spawn Killing bullet towards Abram. There was no need for a telescope for it already had eyes on the 'target.' Without any second to lose, the Redeemer pressed the trigger… And light streaked out.
*Bang*
Mission complete…
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
Abram gave a genuine smile, as he watched Jeffery laughing in the embrace of the blue-haired woman, who had been hurling genuine electricity.
There were others, who had given him happy bear hugs, and kisses. But only the blue hair woman and another older woman were able to provoke such an intense reaction from the Mutant.
'Yep, seems like I was right after all.' Abram mentally nodded to himself. 'He really is a big-deal, around here. Now, if only I can use this commotion to make myself scarce…'
Now that Abram was sure of Jeffery's safety, it was time for him to save himself… By running away, before anyone even realizes he was even here in the first place.
Call him a coward, but Abram has had enough excitement to last him over a lifetime. His bicycle is still a chopper, –thank God for that- And if he uses it at full speed, the African-American is sure that he'll be able to vamoose out of here.
The 16years old has seen on plain TV, what it means to join the world of crazies. Punched, tortured, shot at, cut at, plotted against, and have buildings and other insanely heavy objects dropped on your person! Like that isn't enough, depending on the kind of Supe you want to be. You can kiss your privacy and the safety of your loved ones, goodbye!
Nope! Nope! Nope! Abram Adams ain't gonna kill himself, joining the wakkos doing their wakko shit!
But alas, even the Buddhas were against him. Just as Abram was quietly carrying his presently non-fiery self out of the location. A hand clamped on his shoulder. Mentally gulping, Abram turned to see the famous visor Mutant, giving him a grateful smile.
"I heard from, Jeffery. That you're the reason why he was capable of even reaching this point, in the first place. You have my thanks. There hasn't been any precedence of a Mutant helping another Mutant just immediately after their X-genes has kicked in."
With a crooked smile, the sweat-dropped Abram just nodded. "Eh, it's no problem, sir. I just couldn't leave him alone."
But yeah, Abram's unasked question has been unintentionally answered. He really is a Mutant. There is no way, he could leave without making a fuss.
Watching as Cyclops was moving ahead. Abram spun back to bring his chopper. A tug on his windbreaker pulled the 16years old to see Jeffery watching him with a smile. Abram decided right there that the smile sure suited the kid.
"What do you want, kid?"
"I just came to say, thanks."
Abram felt a bit fuzzy at Jeffery's reply. Rubbing his nose, he said. "No need, kid. I just did what any sensible person would have done. Besides…" Abram ruffled Jeffery's hair. "All that matters is that you're safe in the end."
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
It was supposed to be a story with a happy ending. The valiant tale of a boy, who didn't follow the crowd to crucify or stand by the sidelines. Taking a single step, he extended a hand to save one life.
It should have been a tale, where there is light even in the darkest pits, as long as you never give up hope…
But it wasn't. Just as sudden, without any notice of sorts… Tragedy struck, once again.
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
"Now, I remember why I'm here."
Jeffery's whisper didn't reach his savior, but that's fine. It shouldn't have too, anyway.
It was when Jeffery saw that streak of light, did his memory of why he was in that town return to him.
Time for all intent and purpose, unilaterally stopped. Only the Mutant with ability to Teleport and become a Ghost, could move in the temporal disturbance. Jeffery knew the only reason he was alive in the first place, was for this moment.
To become a sacrifice, so that others like him won't have the chance of living such a painful life.
Jeffery knew the truth… That Jeffery Garret had died on the Decimation Day, and what he is now, is nothing more than a conjured soul from Heaven.
Turning back, Jeffery whispered apologies to the ones who had just got him back, only to lose him, once again. But this must be done. All his life, Jeffery Garret has always been one to let life dictate its term for him. But not this time. Even if it meant death, he would decide for himself.
And this time, Jeffery decides…
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
It was only a whisper, but Abram heard it clearly. With tears in Jeffery's eyes, the Mutant flickered for a split second, before Abram had the sensation of being pushed away.
Not even instant later, the spot where Abram stood was baptized in white light. Only that in Abram's place was Jeffery who still kept on smiling at him. Blood from the charred corpse flew splashing across Abram's unmoving face.
"What?"
Touching the side of his cheeks. Abram mechanically looked to see a lifeblood that wasn't from him. No, it was from that pieces of gore that lay splattered, tainting the white snow in crimson red.
The horrid cry of the blue-hair woman didn't register in his eyes, nor did the hasty cover of Mutants provided. Abram's world ceased to exist as he didn't even have it in him to scream at the horror being committed to an innocent child.
'Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again… AGAIN!'
That's it… He doesn't care what will happen anymore.
Set the 'Beast' free…
Let The World Burn In Its Iniquity…
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
- Spawn Ω Archetype-
If there was anything, Abram Abrams knew that he was good at… Was his ability to lie to himself. Denying the truth, while living in a conjured fantasy.
Did it hurt when you heard of your Father's death? Yes, but I'm sure I'll get over it…
The people who did this to your Father. Do you hate them? I could say yes, but what am I to do about it. Vengeful tears would get me nowhere in life…
Do you believe in Devils? As much as the next Christian…
Abram Adams… Do you have a Devil? What are you saying … ? Of course, I don't- I… I.
It was easy for Abram to just deny everything, he saw that night. That green eye behemoth, clad in bones and crimson. He is Abram Adams. The son of small town policeman. Nothing more, nothing less…
Yes, whatever he sees when he looks at the mirror at night, isn't real. That heavy presence. The realm of eldritch flames, he finds himself in every single night, isn't real. The dreams of him, slaughtering every one of his Dad's killers with a deranged smile, isn't real.
Abram Adams was just a normal boy, with small dreams and aversion to big cities.
Yes, that's it.
Build that façade. Humble and calm, patient and helpful. The world doesn't need 'IT' neither does it need you, Abram.
Go to sleep, just like how you have always been after the time… You ripped Hell, apart !
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
He opened his eyes to see a dark realm lit only an endless sea of green flames, farther than a mortal can see. Like it was a ritual, he looked up to see the void dark sky, before sighing, resting his back against a flesh-like wall…
This time he was here, once again. Only this time, of his own volition.
Seems like the parsons got it right. You can't hide from yourself, forever.
He had known ever since that 'day' after his Father was buried. When he laid beneath the covers of his bed, cursing every single person who watched his Father die. The flames of rage that overtook him, and rewrote his entire being… Making him into a being not of this world.
Abram Adams knew that he is somewhat 'unique' in a way.
But in that same vein, Abram Adams knew what would happen if he accepts his uniqueness. So he hid it, and denied its very existence with all he had.
The ever-ending loop. The dreams, and nightmares were his ways of caging the Devil, inside.
But no more… This time he won't stop it.
Groaning, Abram struggled to his feet still facing the sea of flames. His feet shook as the earth tremor from the giant rising up with him.
"Hey, uh. I just want to say, thanks for back there."
There was no answer, but he wasn't expecting one. Not when he had spent years denying 'ITs' existence.
"So, how about it? Ready for some action, big guy?"
The waves turbulently stirred like the roaring of a billion souls.
"Heh…"
Abram closed his eyes and turned as 'IT' turned. And when he opened up his eyes. Abram accepted it all…
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
The first omen began with the sky turning a sickly green.
"What's goin' on?!" Rogue said, baffled at the sudden change in the filament.
Cyclops gestured for the team to regroup immediately only to realize, that one was left behind.
Hovering in the air, while an entire area had its snow melted away. Abram held his head in pain, while agonizing growls escaped his mouth.
"Grrrrrrrrrrrr!"
Blood lightning streaked down from the skies, licking the trees, setting the forest ablaze. All around the world, various Mystics roused from their mediation. The natural laws of the world were being disturbed.
"Grrrrrrrrrrrr!"
His back tore open, as what appeared to look like a Klyntar envelop his form. But to all who recognized it would quiver in fear, crying that 'He' has finally returned.
The one who killed the Original Satan, and splintered Hell. Sealing away its main part, while the fragments were taken by beings who were now called the Hell-Lords.
A red cloth enveloped Abram's form, donning him in a shroud-like red jacket with high straight collar. Spiked bracers on his arms and greaves on his feet. The boy was gone and in his place, was a being, whose passive existence radiated terror.
K7-Leetha… Activated
Abram, or rather, Spawn roared to the Heavens as if to announce of his return.
But even so, at this moment, there is an enemy before him.
Still airborne, Spawn crouched, with space itself being pushed back. The wicked light above as his target.
With a sound of glass cracking and multiple rumblings of thunder. Spawn left a green afterglow as he zoomed into the air, clashing fist against the already waiting Redeemer.
The American continent trembled from the first blow.
Of Chains and Fire I…
Earth-616
It was a 'domain' which its essence encompassed sorrows and tears. The end of the road for all iniquity doers of the world. There was no such thing as a sin, too big, nor a sin, too small. As long as you reach that simple requirement –be a sinner- then 'that' world is waiting for you…
The world commonly referred to as, Hell.
This was one of the Hell Dimension. A Splinter Realm that caters for the souls of sinners, granting them eternal torment. This particular Hell Dimension was teeming with sounds of life.
Or rather, cries of the perpetually dammed.
Cooked, maimed, mutilated, pieced, bifurcated, pounded, and eaten alive… The method by which the anguish is delivered as never ending. All done by the mindless beasts referred to as 'Demons' by those in the land of the living.
This is the Hell Dimension of the Lord of Lies, Mephisto…
Just like how it ought to be, the timeless realm should have been like the days of yonder.
The Hell-Lord sited upon his throne of power, in the center of Hell, was supposed to be enjoying today like other days. Calmly breathing in the alluring scent of hopelessness, and conjuring up diabolical plans for his self-interest.
But with what has just happened, how could he even do that?
How was he supposed to sit back, and calmly enjoy the suffering delish, when that 'Monster' has actually returned!
"He's shouldn't have come back." Huge red hands gripped the armrest, cracking it under the superhuman strain.
"He said, he was tired of it all. So why, why does 'he' have to come back, now?!"
The person in question or rather, the 'being' in question, was responsible for a sudden reaction in Mephisto's Realm. A calling beacon of sorts. The Hell-Lord had to expend his powers in more ways than one to not respond to that call.
Even though that apparent urge wasn't gone, yet.
Staring out into the hellish distance, as his gaze went beyond his realm of power. Mephisto said. "I am not the only one, who is currently experiencing this."
Satannish, Hela, Marduk, Pluto, even his secretly emplaced servant, Asmodeus, would have to be feeling the shakings right this moment. Even the more 'publically' unrecognizable sections of Hell wouldn't be spared, as well.
That conjured an image of a certain Faltine in mind. Wearing a weak smirk, Mesphisto mulled aloud. "I bet, even the great Dormammu is feeling it in his bones. That monster's calling."
But then, his smirk fell soon after.
"Not like I have anything to say about myself."
Sighing, Mephisto steeple his hands, eyes narrowing in deep thought.
There were many plans he would have to cut off, now that 'he' is back. And unsurprisingly human, again. –that 'being's fascination with Humanity was just bothering eerie- Mephisto suppose he'll have to contact Asmodeus as well.
The other Hell Lords… They'll have to deal with it however they want to.
In fact, the Lord of Lies would be pleased if they could get their-selves killed, fighting 'him.' It would certainly spare him the trouble of his millennia old plans.
But for now, the main issue is this.
"How am I to protect myself, if I am to cross his way?"
If there was one word, many people would use to describe Mephisto with, is the word 'selfish.' The Hell Lord doesn't want to die. Neither does he wants to lose his power to 'him.' But the future as they say, is very unclear.
Also, if his main incarnation is just like how he used to be before… Then he isn't safe, at all.
Though, in the matter of his protection. Mephisto actually had a way to secure it. But it would take some rather convincing words, and some façade to set it up. Because he knew that, the 'man' he is going to need, won't help him. Even if given the entire gold in the world.
But still, Mephisto has to try, for the Hell Lord doesn't want to die a true death…
"Heh, to think that I, Mephisto, would be leaving my future to something as obscure as ' luck.' Keh, dam you, for coming back. Curse you, Spawn, to the abyss and back."
His horned figure arose from his throne to a height of 8 ft. tall. Looking around, Mephisto's senses assured him once again, that his Dimension was in order…
At least, for now.
Nodding his head, Mephisto vanished in a pillar of Hell Fire.
It was time to go see, a certain Sorcerer Supreme…
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
On a nearby mountain, some meters away from the commotion. Loki sat on a smooth rock, unbothered by the cold, and dark green skies that struck down occasional red lightning flashes.
Loki wasn't interested in the uproar of the world, below. Candidly speaking, their cries and fears meant nothing to her. Rather, the Goddess eyes remained glued to the skies which was the cause of world shaking tremors.
The Goddess could see her beloved. The green streak that flew with a speed that rivalled her brother's own, clashing against the pretender clad in gold. Upon seeing that Loki heaved a sigh of relief. She was fortunately not late, this time.
Although, this just showed her of the inevitable...
"So, it has happened."
Loki clenched her staff tightly for a moment, before releasing it in resignation.
"Or rather, it has finally begun."
Closing her eyes. Loki could still dream of that short spell, which seemed like a transient dream. A dream where, Loki didn't have to be Loki, and she wouldn't be under that chocking pressure that would require of her to wreak havoc just to be rid of it.
A dream where she could just be, Sylvia Laufeydottir with her Adams Abram.
Two sweethearts, both pariahs, both different from the others, both bound by a dark prophecy… Abram is just like her other half. The only one who could ever understand her in this big dark universe.
Now, it was finally time for the play to begin afresh. The stage is set.
Only this time. Loki wouldn't be anyone's puppet.
Seconds passed by, before Loki looked towards a seemingly empty spot.
"Jeffery Garret. Was there any reason, you chose that child for his awakening?"
The spot Loki was staring out was still empty. But a small whirlwind, and a shimmering after. A robbed figure appeared genuflecting, as though they were there the whole time. At least to Loki, who could clearly seem them like a large colored spot on a white sheet.
"… … …"
"Well, I'm waiting. I remember the plan was to choose a soul, who would agree to come back and kick start Spawn's ascension. But still, why that child?"
The genuflecting figure, lifted their head, as they replied.
"Lady Loki, it is as you said. The plan was to choose a deceased soul, and among all that I could get in touch with, only Jeffery Garret was willing candidate. After all, the plan was for them to come back only to die a painful death."
Loki stared at the figure for a moment, before releasing a heavy sigh.
"You're right, as always. But still… No, it doesn't matter at this point."
If only there was a much better method…
If only the process could have been much simpler, she would have taken a much 'kinder' option in a heartbeat. The Goddess knew it was Abram's influence that made her like this. Soft. But she wouldn't have it any other way.
It had to be done. Only a shock of this magnitude would be capable of stirring his powers, awake. For if his primordial soul had awaken true death… Then there would be much more on stake.
"I understand. Just make sure that Jeffery Garret's passage to Heaven is still there. If not, I'm sure that there are some strings I can pull to get him into Valhalla. He is a true warrior."
The robed figure inclined their head.
"No need to trouble yourself for that, Lady Loki. I had just finish seeing his soul off at Heaven's Gate."
"… Good for him. Jeffery Garret. I'll be sure to remember his name."
Humming, Loki stood up. Snow fell, melting away as it landed upon her green dress, which was apparently different from how it looked like, when she took the trip to Jötunheimr.
The green on Loki's suit had small accents of red, and her fur cape had turned gold and white. But what was most important about all this, is the power the Goddess currently possesses…
Maybe 'hosting' would be the apt word for her situation.
"I reckon, I could go up against both Odin and Thor, and win with utmost ease."
But Loki knew that this wasn't her power. This was from the Cosmic Being, whose golden emblem of a bird crested her attire's upper torso. A prehistoric power that began with the first life in this Multiverse. A being whose power surpasses even the famed, Infinity Rocks.
The Phoenix…
Around Loki, space twirled, heated by the awesome power of the Bird of Life. Closing her eyes, the Goddess said, harshly.
"I know you want to go and help him, but this isn't the right time. You have my memories. So you have to know that, this has to be done, perfectly. Errors can't be allowed. Besides, you aren't 'complete,' yet. So be a good bird, and wait for your turn!"
A psychic caw cried out from Loki's astral domain, indignantly. For a moment, the Asgardian Goddess feared that the Phoenix would be petulant and just have her way. But luckily, it seems that the Cosmic Being had more sense to go with her power. The Phoenix had receded back.
Exhaling, Loki shook her head. She doesn't have time to struggle with the damn Bird. All she needed to do now, is to keep her eyes glued upward. For her time to act is coming soon.
Very soon…
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
Just above the cloudy filament, hundreds of meters away from the hazy film that covers the Earth. There is an activity just above planet's curve which proclaimed the rising sun. A battle of epic proportions by two titans of time.
An individual clad in a black that had white M strips, wearing a crimson shroud-like jacket and arm armors, clashed against a golden giant golem that had an energy-halo at its back.
To an outsider's eyes, it was a textbook battle scenario. A Hero versus Villain scenery. Only that, who is the Hero and the Villain would have been certainly mistaken.
You see, this is a special case.
One had the history of being a Mutant Killer. It travels through time, doing what is needed to be done. That is its Prime Directive, after all. Kill, kill, and kill. A killer is all it could be… All it could ever be.
Except this time, this isn't the case.
Nimrod fights, not just for the safety of Humanity. But that of the entire Universe and beyond. The power of Spawn is one spoken throughout the ages, and as a being who came from the future… The fact that it has been granted powers from Heaven to slay this entity should say a lot.
Spawn must die. The safety of everything it fights for depends on it!
But then on the other side, we have one who has the soul of a Killer. He who kills evil. Spawn's work and doings would endanger the lives of everything, as we know it… Though in this case, things are a little messy.
Abram Adams isn't Spawn. To him, this abilities was something he spent years ignoring. Just an illusion. It wasn't like there wasn't any temptation to try it a little, but Abram had learned to ignore the itch. He was nothing more than a mail-boy.
Nothing more, nothing less.
But then, Jeffery Garret died. Taken away even as he smiled. Even now, Abram still wonders, why he was still smiling when roasted under that lance of light. In the end, Abram would never know. Because the kid isn't here to tell him.
So this time, Abram will give in to the Devil. His Devil. Baptize himself in its power and become the one thing, he had always denied himself of being.
The one who Judges and metes out…
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
Their battle even as wrapped as it is, is for a cause they both deem to be just. And if they could pray, their supplication would go on like this…
"Uryaaaaah!"
Spawn's fist flew ever true, clashing against the Redeemer's armored own. Even with the lack of air resistance due to their altitude. They both were literally above the earth. A bright flash followed by a calamitous roar that shook America!
Green and yellow lights repulsed away from the concussive force, before streaking back with double the speed.
Spawn clenched his fist, which lighted up in a jade blaze. His fist clanged against the Redeemer's raised knee, while the armored Celestial's fist enveloped Spawn's entire face with a powerful haymaker.
*Bam!*
Flying back some meters, Spawn spat green ichor that floated away due to lack of gravity. Cleaning his lips before zipping back into the fight. Seeing another large golden hand closing in on him, Spawn raised both his arms deflecting the Redeemer's arm away. Using his smaller size to return the favor with an uppercut.
Gold chipped away, as Spawn let out a grin. But this wasn't enough to even tickle the Redeemer. Twin orbs glistened beneath the helmet, the Redeemer resumed position as if by playback. Raising his hands up high and dropping upon Spawn's back.
A green meteorite shot down to the Earth…
Gritting his jagged teeth, Spawn could feel the recoil of atmosphere pushing against him. But still this wouldn't stop him. Shooting back with a sinuous movement, Spawn's eyes lit up.
He knew what he was lacking in this fight. In terms of strength, both he and the metal bastard were equal in strength, with the gold prick being a smidgen stronger. –though that was to be expected. This is his fetus stage, after all- But Spawn was ultimately faster, and still he couldn't actually capitalize on that.
Cocking his arm back, Spawn punched against the foot of the Redeemer, tilting the robot. Spiked greaves foot shot towards the Redeemer's torso, launching it backwards. Capitalizing on his advantage, Spawn followed in hot pursuit.
*Bam!*Bam!*Bam!*Bam!*Bam!*…
Fists and legs flew, smashing hard against the Redeemer's chassis. Swerving pass grabs and vaulting over punches, Spawn settled down to dismantle the Redeemer.
But the Redeemer wasn't out, yet.
A hexagonal barrier springs up, enveloping the Redeemer, and pushing away Spawn.
[Combat Sequence… Activated.]
Without giving Spawn a chance to react, the Redeemer in a blur of bright yellow crashed against him. Two blows from his sides, broke Spawn's guard. An armored foot exploded against Spawn's torso, sending millions of miles away from planet Earth… To Saturn.
It was only an instant that Spawn could have a glimpse on where he currently was. But the number of moons, and most importantly, the ringlet of space rocks, told him that, this definitely wasn't Earth. Lancing pillars of light capable of lacerating mountains made for Spawn.
Altering into a weightless mass of reddish black smoke, Spawn twirled around the lasers. Though even as he was headed for the Redeemer, Spawn knew that he just couldn't win in close combat. His reach wasn't as good the Redeemer's. When considering their size differences.
Then again, Spawn could actually do that… Make up for the differences in reach that is.
With the sound of an aged but strong wood being snapped open, Spawn opened his maw. A shriek produced an invisible ripple that atomized a nearby moon. And Spawn finally spoke.
Just above Spawn, two large holes manifested. It was a tear in space. From the dark abyss which the tear presented, two large arms as if made by the night itself, and had literal wormy magma-like arteries on its surface, pushed itself out.
The arms was of a size larger than Spawn, and more importantly. It was larger than the Redeemer's arm. The position has been changed. Spawn punched his fist together, with Belial's arms miming him.
A visible crack promptly sealed itself, at Belial's actions.
Even the Redeemer slowed down in its pursuit, at the sight of those arms. If the Celestial robot had even the faintest idea, what those arms represented, then it knew what it means to be hit by them. Absolute Deletion. The arms of Belial could delete anything and anyone who even touches it.
All that you comprise off. Flesh, soul, and in some extreme cases, even one's entire history!
Status doesn't matter. What you really are, doesn't matter. Even those with the greatest of healing factors, would find their gifts very hard to employ before Belial's fist. That is unless, one has the Heavenly flames which could mitigate the effects… Somewhat.
An aura of yellow blazes enveloped the Redeemer. Above the robot, cannons jutted out from the inky space in their hundreds, all pointing at Spawn who let out a deriding scoff.
Swishing his arms, Belial's arms promptly followed, deleting a noticeable portion of Saturn's ringlet. In a blaze of eldritch flames, two larges guns with skulls emblements manifested on Spawn's hand.
Cannons edge brightened…
Belial's arms glistened…
The solar system trembled in abject terror…
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
"Can someone. Anyone, please tell me, what the hell is going on?!" Iron Man said towards the X-Men. Confusion painting his expression.
Just when Iron Man had thought that the battle with Nimrod would become a battle of attrition, this happened. Skies turning like the Green big guy is back, then the satellite observers informing him of the entire continent shaking!
It was just some sort of luck, that whoever is fighting with whatever Nimrod had become, didn't do so at a lower altitude. Because if so…
The causalities Iron Man would be looking at, will simply kill off sleep for weeks…
The direction from which that 'being' came from when crashing against Nimrod, points to where he had sent Janet –towards where the Ghost Rider's caricature was- but here he was met with a grim scenery. A young girl crying over a pool of… Gore.
Jesus Christ! From the scanners, the one who was killed was just a kid!
Clenching his armored fist, Iron Man looked at the wailing girl and the other X-Men who just watched on, blankly. The S.H.I.E.L.D commander in him was nagging him to just push through this churning feeling and sternly ask what was happening.
But the Tony Stark in him was just yelling in his ear, to not test the X-Men. Besides, he didn't want to keep antagonizing them. It would only escalate the pressing matter to a more dangerous level.
'God, I really wanna' drink, so badly.'
Letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of Janet, Iron Man flew towards her.
"Wasp, can you please tell me what's happening, right now?"
But Janet was mummed, blankly staring towards where the gory scene was. Iron Man sighed, pulling back his helmet. This doesn't need Iron Man, it needs Tony Stark. Ruffling his hair, Tony letting out artic fumes.
"Hey, Janet. I have an inkling on what's going on –just an inkling- but before you get into your own world, I need you to look up. The skies aren't supposed to be green, the earth isn't supposed to the shuddering. This isn't normal. And we – that includes you- are an Avenger. We protect the world from stuffs like this. So I need you to please tell me, what's happening."
Janet lifted up her head upwards as if to tilt the tears back. Giving herself 2 chiding pats on her cheeks. The Wasp nodded at Tony, who promptly returned the gesture with a light smile.
"Thanks, Tony. I really needed that. The situation… Well, as you can see. Whatever is that robot or 'Nimrod' was I think it was aiming for the flaming kid…" Janet took a moment to compose herself. "The other kid with him, sacrificed himself to save the one with the green flames."
Even as succinct as Janet's explanation was, Tony was beginning to get an image on what was happening… And he didn't like it one bit.
"Tony!"
The multi-billionaire swerved to see Carol, Williams, and Bob descending from the sky. Natasha and Ares with them.
Carol who had just called Tony, looked around spotting the members of the X-Men. She was about to greet them, when her eyes dilated at the gore before them. Her mouth opened and closed for a moment, wavering on which action to take.
Thankfully, Tony gave a small wave. "Hey, Carol."
"Tony, what's going on?"
"Straight to the point, Carol. Well… To explain properly might just be tricky-"
Tony was interrupted by a resounding boom. The clouds parted. While dissipating green were seen in the horizon. Tony on the other hand, had almost 15 of his satellites going off-line. Pausing, he raised his arm.
"Carol, wait a sec… Hey, J.A.R.V.I.S, send me the latest image that any of my satellites had before going off-line?"
[Certainly, Sir. Unit Ax456d64 and unit 875fhc75, had captured short a video of the battle, above.]
"Good. Let's see it."
[Most certainly.]
A holographic small screen sprang from Tony's armored palm. Carol and others approached the screen to see what was going on above.
"Uh, was that the guy we just saw before?" Williams said as he spotted the full image change.
"He certainly, didn't look a Klyntar with a cyberpunk red coat. Hell, he didn't look like this, at all!"
"So Tony, who's the bad guy?" Carol asked. Watching as both unique 'beings' pummel the hell out of each other. One was the main bad guy, they fought just now. But the other looks like bad news.
Warbird didn't want to head into battle only to attack the good guy…
Tony replied, definitely. "It's still Nimrod. Although, be prepare for the other one just in case."
Sentry who had been quiet all this while, spoke out words that literally shook his fellow teammates to the core.
"Guys. I think if we antagonize this guy… We'll all die."
Tony blinked flummoxed. "Who?"
The solar-based Hero, pointed towards the 'being' clad in black and red.
"Him."
"Ok~" Carol said, blinking her eyes.
"Now if you're saying this, then this must be more serious than I can imagine. But's not like this is our first time facing an overwhelming odds, right? What makes him any different?"
Sentry nodded. "You're right, Carol. But… I can feel it inside of me."
When the Golden Hero raised his eyes towards the others. His fellow Avengers all shifted back, apprehensively. Staring at them were a pair of jet black eyes was the 'other' side of the Sentry. It was the Void who is currently speaking.
"I just know it. So listen, Tony. If you don't want to die, do not antagonize, 'him.' Cause I certainly will not be joining you in a hopeless battle. Hell, I'll be the first to book out."
The serious aura, the Sentry? Currently projected, stayed for some seconds before petering off. Sentry swayed for a bit, before looking at his teammates in confusion. His eyes were blue once again.
"Why are you all staring at me like that?"
Black Widow sighed, muttering some curses in Russian dialect. She then asks to Tony. "So, is it always like this with him?"
"Well… That hasn't happened for quite a well. And since he isn't trashing around, I'm sure that things are ok. At least for now." Tony said airily, though his eyes were narrowed in thought.
Tony had never seen the Void so weary of anyone –that included the likes of The Avengers, X-Men, and the Fantastic Four- but for one who is regarded as the strongest mortal, for that someone of such prestige to fear another being to such a level…
This was getting more and more serious, than he expected…
And to think that some hours ago, the only thing in his mind was to get some shut eye…
Robbing the edge of his eyes, Sentry sighed contritely. "It's the Void, am I right?"
Seeing that they didn't reply. Sentry's heart sank. Swallowing, the Sentry, or rather, Bobby heaved. But then a hand clamped on his shoulder. Turning, Bobby saw it was Carol who gave him a sympathetic smile, which he returned for formality.
'Maybe, my relapse isn't that big of a deal.' He hopefully thought.
"Aha! I've gotten it!"
The booming sound of Ares's boisterous voice gave everyone quite a scare. Repulsors, glowing eyes, hands, and an anti-supe gun pointed the Olympian's direction. Though seeing that there wasn't any danger –just a strangely happy God of War- they all calmed down.
"Oh come on, man!" Wonder Man harshly said. "Can't you feel the precarious mood that's going on around here?"
Though rather reply to the mortal's question, Ares ignored Wonder Man to face his team-leader.
"The name of that creature arrayed in red and black. I've finally remembered his name."
Tony blinked, before opening his mouth a little. "Really?! That's good, then. So tell us."
Ares nodded. "His name is Spawn…"
"… …"
"… …"
"… …"
"… …"
"… …"
There was silence for a minute, before Wasp decided to say what had been going through each of the Avenger's mind. Janet had been, well, expecting some kind of grand, powerful, name especially with the hype the Void had heaped on the kid.
But Spawn?
"What?"
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
"Scott, I know that look. Just ignore them."
Emma's soft gloved hands wrapped against the Alpha Mutant's own. Giving her a smile, Scott took a deep breathe, trying to think that what is happening is just a haze.
A bad dream…
Everything turned out wrong. The mission to rescue the first Mutant was one big burst. Scott originally thought that things were going well. Yes, there was an unexpected presence of the Mutant Hunter. But still he thought that, the robot could be handled. Had been handled.
That was his hubris…
Maybe he should have just focused on getting both Mutants out of there sooner. Maybe he should have focused all efforts on destroying Nimrod. Maybe he should have put one of the team's Telepath among the lookout… Maybe. Maybe. Maybe!
Tears dripped down Scott's visor, while Emma pulled him into a one hand hug.
"You tried your best, Honey." Emma said soothingly.
Shaking his head, Scott replied. "But it still isn't enough, Emma. Jeffery's dead… I said that everyone's going home. But Emma… Where is our home in this world? Time and time again we protect it, and time and time again, we're all persecuted without prejudice."
The X-Man bit his lips hard enough to draw blood. "I'm just hanging by the thread, Emma. And I'm afraid of what will happen when I fall into that haze of hate."
"You won't. Not after everything, you've gone through. Take it from one who had once been your enemy. Scott, you are stronger than this, I know that. I know you can get through this. I'm here with you, remember that."
"… … Thanks Emma."
"Anything, Darling."
Looking at where the Avenger's had gathered themselves. Scott still had to take a deep breath to stop himself from marching and demanding why they let Nimrod take that chance to attack his people. But Scott knew it won't bring Jeffery back.
Now he has to focus on more important issues. Like that of the new berserk Mutant.
"Hey, Emma, can you pinpoint where our new friend is?"
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
It was a sight, while common to the ones that had some of connection to the supernatural happenings pertaining to space, would have been impossible to be witnessed by the mundane eyes.
*Bam!*
⸢Arms of Belial⸥ pummel the Redeemer without giving it time to rest, while Spawn sprayed endless amounts of eldritch-fire infused bullets of its chassis.
A particularly large cannon aimed at Spawn's back. But with a rattling sound, chains flew from beneath his jacket wrapping over the mortar's head and crushed it.
*Boom!*
Multiple cannons appeared in response. But ⸢Arms of Belial⸥ promptly deleted them away. If it weren't for the Heavenly Flames then the Redeemer would have been done away as well. Well no matter, this was a battle of attrition that the Redeemer could not win.
But the Redeemer knew that. Like it said before, fighting an awakened Spawn was the worst case scenario. So what the Redeemer had to do is to adjust its plans accordingly.
As long as the one, Abram Adams exists. Spawn can be defeated.
[Initiate teleportation jump… Planet Earth.]
Just when the people of Earth thought that the bizarre omens of the heavens were over. It suddenly returned. With a loud sound of rustling chains and the mechanical whirring of robotic parts. Guns and demonic large arms, pointed at an array of cannons and a rail-gun.
It is time for the Second Round…
Location: A certain Hell Dimension.
It was a 'domain' which its essence encompassed sorrows and tears. The end of the road for all iniquity doers of the world. There was no such thing as a sin, too big, nor a sin, too small. As long as you reach that simple requirement –be a sinner- then 'that' world is waiting for you…
The world commonly referred to as, Hell.
This was one of the Hell Dimension. A Splinter Realm that caters for the souls of sinners, granting them eternal torment. This particular Hell Dimension was teeming with sounds of life.
Or rather, cries of the perpetually dammed.
Cooked, maimed, mutilated, pieced, bifurcated, pounded, and eaten alive… The method by which the anguish is delivered as never ending. All done by the mindless beasts referred to as 'Demons' by those in the land of the living.
This is the Hell Dimension of the Lord of Lies, Mephisto…
Just like how it ought to be, the timeless realm should have been like the days of yonder.
The Hell-Lord sited upon his throne of power, in the center of Hell, was supposed to be enjoying today like other days. Calmly breathing in the alluring scent of hopelessness, and conjuring up diabolical plans for his self-interest.
But with what has just happened, how could he even do that?
How was he supposed to sit back, and calmly enjoy the suffering delish, when that 'Monster' has actually returned!
"He's shouldn't have come back." Huge red hands gripped the armrest, cracking it under the superhuman strain.
"He said, he was tired of it all. So why, why does 'he' have to come back, now?!"
The person in question or rather, the 'being' in question, was responsible for a sudden reaction in Mephisto's Realm. A calling beacon of sorts. The Hell-Lord had to expend his powers in more ways than one to not respond to that call.
Even though that apparent urge wasn't gone, yet.
Staring out into the hellish distance, as his gaze went beyond his realm of power. Mephisto said. "I am not the only one, who is currently experiencing this."
Satannish, Hela, Marduk, Pluto, even his secretly emplaced servant, Asmodeus, would have to be feeling the shakings right this moment. Even the more 'publically' unrecognizable sections of Hell wouldn't be spared, as well.
That conjured an image of a certain Faltine in mind. Wearing a weak smirk, Mesphisto mulled aloud. "I bet, even the great Dormammu is feeling it in his bones. That monster's calling."
But then, his smirk fell soon after.
"Not like I have anything to say about myself."
Sighing, Mephisto steeple his hands, eyes narrowing in deep thought.
There were many plans he would have to cut off, now that 'he' is back. And unsurprisingly human, again. –that 'being's fascination with Humanity was just bothering eerie- Mephisto suppose he'll have to contact Asmodeus as well.
The other Hell Lords… They'll have to deal with it however they want to.
In fact, the Lord of Lies would be pleased if they could get their-selves killed, fighting 'him.' It would certainly spare him the trouble of his millennia old plans.
But for now, the main issue is this.
"How am I to protect myself, if I am to cross his way?"
If there was one word, many people would use to describe Mephisto with, is the word 'selfish.' The Hell Lord doesn't want to die. Neither does he wants to lose his power to 'him.' But the future as they say, is very unclear.
Also, if his main incarnation is just like how he used to be before… Then he isn't safe, at all.
Though, in the matter of his protection. Mephisto actually had a way to secure it. But it would take some rather convincing words, and some façade to set it up. Because he knew that, the 'man' he is going to need, won't help him. Even if given the entire gold in the world.
But still, Mephisto has to try, for the Hell Lord doesn't want to die a true death…
"Heh, to think that I, Mephisto, would be leaving my future to something as obscure as ' luck.' Keh, dam you, for coming back. Curse you, Spawn, to the abyss and back."
His horned figure arose from his throne to a height of 8 ft. tall. Looking around, Mephisto's senses assured him once again, that his Dimension was in order…
At least, for now.
Nodding his head, Mephisto vanished in a pillar of Hell Fire.
It was time to go see, a certain Sorcerer Supreme…
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
Location: Some distance away from that certain town.
On a nearby mountain, some meters away from the commotion. Loki sat on a smooth rock, unbothered by the cold, and dark green skies that struck down occasional red lightning flashes.
Loki wasn't interested in the uproar of the world, below. Candidly speaking, their cries and fears meant nothing to her. Rather, the Goddess eyes remained glued to the skies which was the cause of world shaking tremors.
The Goddess could see her beloved. The green streak that flew with a speed that rivalled her brother's own, clashing against the pretender clad in gold. Upon seeing that Loki heaved a sigh of relief. She was fortunately not late, this time.
Although, this just showed her of the inevitable...
"So, it has happened."
Loki clenched her staff tightly for a moment, before releasing it in resignation.
"Or rather, it has finally begun."
Closing her eyes. Loki could still dream of that short spell, which seemed like a transient dream. A dream where, Loki didn't have to be Loki, and she wouldn't be under that chocking pressure that would require of her to wreak havoc just to be rid of it.
A dream where she could just be, Sylvia Laufeydottir with her Adams Abram.
Two sweethearts, both pariahs, both different from the others, both bound by a dark prophecy… Abram is just like her other half. The only one who could ever understand her in this big dark universe.
Now, it was finally time for the play to begin afresh. The stage is set.
Only this time. Loki wouldn't be anyone's puppet.
Seconds passed by, before Loki looked towards a seemingly empty spot.
"Jeffery Garret. Was there any reason, you chose that child for his awakening?"
The spot Loki was staring out was still empty. But a small whirlwind, and a shimmering after. A robbed figure appeared genuflecting, as though they were there the whole time. At least to Loki, who could clearly seem them like a large colored spot on a white sheet.
"… … …"
"Well, I'm waiting. I remember the plan was to choose a soul, who would agree to come back and kick start Spawn's ascension. But still, why that child?"
The genuflecting figure, lifted their head, as they replied.
"Lady Loki, it is as you said. The plan was to choose a deceased soul, and among all that I could get in touch with, only Jeffery Garret was willing candidate. After all, the plan was for them to come back only to die a painful death."
Loki stared at the figure for a moment, before releasing a heavy sigh.
"You're right, as always. But still… No, it doesn't matter at this point."
If only there was a much better method…
If only the process could have been much simpler, she would have taken a much 'kinder' option in a heartbeat. The Goddess knew it was Abram's influence that made her like this. Soft. But she wouldn't have it any other way.
It had to be done. Only a shock of this magnitude would be capable of stirring his powers, awake. For if his primordial soul had awaken true death… Then there would be much more on stake.
"I understand. Just make sure that Jeffery Garret's passage to Heaven is still there. If not, I'm sure that there are some strings I can pull to get him into Valhalla. He is a true warrior."
The robed figure inclined their head.
"No need to trouble yourself for that, Lady Loki. I had just finish seeing his soul off at Heaven's Gate."
"… Good for him. Jeffery Garret. I'll be sure to remember his name."
Humming, Loki stood up. Snow fell, melting away as it landed upon her green dress, which was apparently different from how it looked like, when she took the trip to Jötunheimr.
The green on Loki's suit had small accents of red, and her fur cape had turned gold and white. But what was most important about all this, is the power the Goddess currently possesses…
Maybe 'hosting' would be the apt word for her situation.
"I reckon, I could go up against both Odin and Thor, and win with utmost ease."
But Loki knew that this wasn't her power. This was from the Cosmic Being, whose golden emblem of a bird crested her attire's upper torso. A prehistoric power that began with the first life in this Multiverse. A being whose power surpasses even the famed, Infinity Rocks.
The Phoenix…
Around Loki, space twirled, heated by the awesome power of the Bird of Life. Closing her eyes, the Goddess said, harshly.
"I know you want to go and help him, but this isn't the right time. You have my memories. So you have to know that, this has to be done, perfectly. Errors can't be allowed. Besides, you aren't 'complete,' yet. So be a good bird, and wait for your turn!"
A psychic caw cried out from Loki's astral domain, indignantly. For a moment, the Asgardian Goddess feared that the Phoenix would be petulant and just have her way. But luckily, it seems that the Cosmic Being had more sense to go with her power. The Phoenix had receded back.
Exhaling, Loki shook her head. She doesn't have time to struggle with the damn Bird. All she needed to do now, is to keep her eyes glued upward. For her time to act is coming soon.
Very soon…
- Spawn Ω Archetype-
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
Just above the cloudy filament, hundreds of meters away from the hazy film that covers the Earth. There is an activity just above planet's curve which proclaimed the rising sun. A battle of epic proportions by two titans of time.
An individual clad in a black that had white M strips, wearing a crimson shroud-like jacket and arm armors, clashed against a golden giant golem that had an energy-halo at its back.
To an outsider's eyes, it was a textbook battle scenario. A Hero versus Villain scenery. Only that, who is the Hero and the Villain would have been certainly mistaken.
You see, this is a special case.
One had the history of being a Mutant Killer. It travels through time, doing what is needed to be done. That is its Prime Directive, after all. Kill, kill, and kill. A killer is all it could be… All it could ever be.
Except this time, this isn't the case.
Nimrod fights, not just for the safety of Humanity. But that of the entire Universe and beyond. The power of Spawn is one spoken throughout the ages, and as a being who came from the future… The fact that it has been granted powers from Heaven to slay this entity should say a lot.
Spawn must die. The safety of everything it fights for depends on it!
But then on the other side, we have one who has the soul of a Killer. He who kills evil. Spawn's work and doings would endanger the lives of everything, as we know it… Though in this case, things are a little messy.
Abram Adams isn't Spawn. To him, this abilities was something he spent years ignoring. Just an illusion. It wasn't like there wasn't any temptation to try it a little, but Abram had learned to ignore the itch. He was nothing more than a mail-boy.
Nothing more, nothing less.
But then, Jeffery Garret died. Taken away even as he smiled. Even now, Abram still wonders, why he was still smiling when roasted under that lance of light. In the end, Abram would never know. Because the kid isn't here to tell him.
So this time, Abram will give in to the Devil. His Devil. Baptize himself in its power and become the one thing, he had always denied himself of being.
The one who Judges and metes out…
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
Ω
Their battle even as wrapped as it is, is for a cause they both deem to be just. And if they could pray, their supplication would go on like this…
Lord, even if I die… At least, let me drag this Bastard to Hell, with me!
Ω
Location: Thousands of meters above Planet Earth.
Ω
Location: Thousands of meters above Planet Earth.
"Uryaaaaah!"
Spawn's fist flew ever true, clashing against the Redeemer's armored own. Even with the lack of air resistance due to their altitude. They both were literally above the earth. A bright flash followed by a calamitous roar that shook America!
Green and yellow lights repulsed away from the concussive force, before streaking back with double the speed.
Spawn clenched his fist, which lighted up in a jade blaze. His fist clanged against the Redeemer's raised knee, while the armored Celestial's fist enveloped Spawn's entire face with a powerful haymaker.
*Bam!*
Flying back some meters, Spawn spat green ichor that floated away due to lack of gravity. Cleaning his lips before zipping back into the fight. Seeing another large golden hand closing in on him, Spawn raised both his arms deflecting the Redeemer's arm away. Using his smaller size to return the favor with an uppercut.
Gold chipped away, as Spawn let out a grin. But this wasn't enough to even tickle the Redeemer. Twin orbs glistened beneath the helmet, the Redeemer resumed position as if by playback. Raising his hands up high and dropping upon Spawn's back.
A green meteorite shot down to the Earth…
Gritting his jagged teeth, Spawn could feel the recoil of atmosphere pushing against him. But still this wouldn't stop him. Shooting back with a sinuous movement, Spawn's eyes lit up.
He knew what he was lacking in this fight. In terms of strength, both he and the metal bastard were equal in strength, with the gold prick being a smidgen stronger. –though that was to be expected. This is his fetus stage, after all- But Spawn was ultimately faster, and still he couldn't actually capitalize on that.
Cocking his arm back, Spawn punched against the foot of the Redeemer, tilting the robot. Spiked greaves foot shot towards the Redeemer's torso, launching it backwards. Capitalizing on his advantage, Spawn followed in hot pursuit.
*Bam!*Bam!*Bam!*Bam!*Bam!*…
Fists and legs flew, smashing hard against the Redeemer's chassis. Swerving pass grabs and vaulting over punches, Spawn settled down to dismantle the Redeemer.
But the Redeemer wasn't out, yet.
A hexagonal barrier springs up, enveloping the Redeemer, and pushing away Spawn.
[Combat Sequence… Activated.]
Without giving Spawn a chance to react, the Redeemer in a blur of bright yellow crashed against him. Two blows from his sides, broke Spawn's guard. An armored foot exploded against Spawn's torso, sending millions of miles away from planet Earth… To Saturn.
It was only an instant that Spawn could have a glimpse on where he currently was. But the number of moons, and most importantly, the ringlet of space rocks, told him that, this definitely wasn't Earth. Lancing pillars of light capable of lacerating mountains made for Spawn.
Altering into a weightless mass of reddish black smoke, Spawn twirled around the lasers. Though even as he was headed for the Redeemer, Spawn knew that he just couldn't win in close combat. His reach wasn't as good the Redeemer's. When considering their size differences.
Then again, Spawn could actually do that… Make up for the differences in reach that is.
With the sound of an aged but strong wood being snapped open, Spawn opened his maw. A shriek produced an invisible ripple that atomized a nearby moon. And Spawn finally spoke.
⸢Arms of Belial⸥
Just above Spawn, two large holes manifested. It was a tear in space. From the dark abyss which the tear presented, two large arms as if made by the night itself, and had literal wormy magma-like arteries on its surface, pushed itself out.
The arms was of a size larger than Spawn, and more importantly. It was larger than the Redeemer's arm. The position has been changed. Spawn punched his fist together, with Belial's arms miming him.
A visible crack promptly sealed itself, at Belial's actions.
Even the Redeemer slowed down in its pursuit, at the sight of those arms. If the Celestial robot had even the faintest idea, what those arms represented, then it knew what it means to be hit by them. Absolute Deletion. The arms of Belial could delete anything and anyone who even touches it.
All that you comprise off. Flesh, soul, and in some extreme cases, even one's entire history!
Status doesn't matter. What you really are, doesn't matter. Even those with the greatest of healing factors, would find their gifts very hard to employ before Belial's fist. That is unless, one has the Heavenly flames which could mitigate the effects… Somewhat.
An aura of yellow blazes enveloped the Redeemer. Above the robot, cannons jutted out from the inky space in their hundreds, all pointing at Spawn who let out a deriding scoff.
Swishing his arms, Belial's arms promptly followed, deleting a noticeable portion of Saturn's ringlet. In a blaze of eldritch flames, two larges guns with skulls emblements manifested on Spawn's hand.
Cannons edge brightened…
Belial's arms glistened…
The solar system trembled in abject terror…
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
"Can someone. Anyone, please tell me, what the hell is going on?!" Iron Man said towards the X-Men. Confusion painting his expression.
Just when Iron Man had thought that the battle with Nimrod would become a battle of attrition, this happened. Skies turning like the Green big guy is back, then the satellite observers informing him of the entire continent shaking!
It was just some sort of luck, that whoever is fighting with whatever Nimrod had become, didn't do so at a lower altitude. Because if so…
The causalities Iron Man would be looking at, will simply kill off sleep for weeks…
The direction from which that 'being' came from when crashing against Nimrod, points to where he had sent Janet –towards where the Ghost Rider's caricature was- but here he was met with a grim scenery. A young girl crying over a pool of… Gore.
Jesus Christ! From the scanners, the one who was killed was just a kid!
Clenching his armored fist, Iron Man looked at the wailing girl and the other X-Men who just watched on, blankly. The S.H.I.E.L.D commander in him was nagging him to just push through this churning feeling and sternly ask what was happening.
But the Tony Stark in him was just yelling in his ear, to not test the X-Men. Besides, he didn't want to keep antagonizing them. It would only escalate the pressing matter to a more dangerous level.
'God, I really wanna' drink, so badly.'
Letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of Janet, Iron Man flew towards her.
"Wasp, can you please tell me what's happening, right now?"
But Janet was mummed, blankly staring towards where the gory scene was. Iron Man sighed, pulling back his helmet. This doesn't need Iron Man, it needs Tony Stark. Ruffling his hair, Tony letting out artic fumes.
"Hey, Janet. I have an inkling on what's going on –just an inkling- but before you get into your own world, I need you to look up. The skies aren't supposed to be green, the earth isn't supposed to the shuddering. This isn't normal. And we – that includes you- are an Avenger. We protect the world from stuffs like this. So I need you to please tell me, what's happening."
Janet lifted up her head upwards as if to tilt the tears back. Giving herself 2 chiding pats on her cheeks. The Wasp nodded at Tony, who promptly returned the gesture with a light smile.
"Thanks, Tony. I really needed that. The situation… Well, as you can see. Whatever is that robot or 'Nimrod' was I think it was aiming for the flaming kid…" Janet took a moment to compose herself. "The other kid with him, sacrificed himself to save the one with the green flames."
Even as succinct as Janet's explanation was, Tony was beginning to get an image on what was happening… And he didn't like it one bit.
"Tony!"
The multi-billionaire swerved to see Carol, Williams, and Bob descending from the sky. Natasha and Ares with them.
Carol who had just called Tony, looked around spotting the members of the X-Men. She was about to greet them, when her eyes dilated at the gore before them. Her mouth opened and closed for a moment, wavering on which action to take.
Thankfully, Tony gave a small wave. "Hey, Carol."
"Tony, what's going on?"
"Straight to the point, Carol. Well… To explain properly might just be tricky-"
Tony was interrupted by a resounding boom. The clouds parted. While dissipating green were seen in the horizon. Tony on the other hand, had almost 15 of his satellites going off-line. Pausing, he raised his arm.
"Carol, wait a sec… Hey, J.A.R.V.I.S, send me the latest image that any of my satellites had before going off-line?"
[Certainly, Sir. Unit Ax456d64 and unit 875fhc75, had captured short a video of the battle, above.]
"Good. Let's see it."
[Most certainly.]
A holographic small screen sprang from Tony's armored palm. Carol and others approached the screen to see what was going on above.
"Uh, was that the guy we just saw before?" Williams said as he spotted the full image change.
"He certainly, didn't look a Klyntar with a cyberpunk red coat. Hell, he didn't look like this, at all!"
"So Tony, who's the bad guy?" Carol asked. Watching as both unique 'beings' pummel the hell out of each other. One was the main bad guy, they fought just now. But the other looks like bad news.
Warbird didn't want to head into battle only to attack the good guy…
Tony replied, definitely. "It's still Nimrod. Although, be prepare for the other one just in case."
Sentry who had been quiet all this while, spoke out words that literally shook his fellow teammates to the core.
"Guys. I think if we antagonize this guy… We'll all die."
Tony blinked flummoxed. "Who?"
The solar-based Hero, pointed towards the 'being' clad in black and red.
"Him."
"Ok~" Carol said, blinking her eyes.
"Now if you're saying this, then this must be more serious than I can imagine. But's not like this is our first time facing an overwhelming odds, right? What makes him any different?"
Sentry nodded. "You're right, Carol. But… I can feel it inside of me."
When the Golden Hero raised his eyes towards the others. His fellow Avengers all shifted back, apprehensively. Staring at them were a pair of jet black eyes was the 'other' side of the Sentry. It was the Void who is currently speaking.
"I just know it. So listen, Tony. If you don't want to die, do not antagonize, 'him.' Cause I certainly will not be joining you in a hopeless battle. Hell, I'll be the first to book out."
The serious aura, the Sentry? Currently projected, stayed for some seconds before petering off. Sentry swayed for a bit, before looking at his teammates in confusion. His eyes were blue once again.
"Why are you all staring at me like that?"
Black Widow sighed, muttering some curses in Russian dialect. She then asks to Tony. "So, is it always like this with him?"
"Well… That hasn't happened for quite a well. And since he isn't trashing around, I'm sure that things are ok. At least for now." Tony said airily, though his eyes were narrowed in thought.
Tony had never seen the Void so weary of anyone –that included the likes of The Avengers, X-Men, and the Fantastic Four- but for one who is regarded as the strongest mortal, for that someone of such prestige to fear another being to such a level…
This was getting more and more serious, than he expected…
And to think that some hours ago, the only thing in his mind was to get some shut eye…
Robbing the edge of his eyes, Sentry sighed contritely. "It's the Void, am I right?"
Seeing that they didn't reply. Sentry's heart sank. Swallowing, the Sentry, or rather, Bobby heaved. But then a hand clamped on his shoulder. Turning, Bobby saw it was Carol who gave him a sympathetic smile, which he returned for formality.
'Maybe, my relapse isn't that big of a deal.' He hopefully thought.
"Aha! I've gotten it!"
The booming sound of Ares's boisterous voice gave everyone quite a scare. Repulsors, glowing eyes, hands, and an anti-supe gun pointed the Olympian's direction. Though seeing that there wasn't any danger –just a strangely happy God of War- they all calmed down.
"Oh come on, man!" Wonder Man harshly said. "Can't you feel the precarious mood that's going on around here?"
Though rather reply to the mortal's question, Ares ignored Wonder Man to face his team-leader.
"The name of that creature arrayed in red and black. I've finally remembered his name."
Tony blinked, before opening his mouth a little. "Really?! That's good, then. So tell us."
Ares nodded. "His name is Spawn…"
"… …"
"… …"
"… …"
"… …"
"… …"
There was silence for a minute, before Wasp decided to say what had been going through each of the Avenger's mind. Janet had been, well, expecting some kind of grand, powerful, name especially with the hype the Void had heaped on the kid.
But Spawn?
"What?"
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
"Scott, I know that look. Just ignore them."
Emma's soft gloved hands wrapped against the Alpha Mutant's own. Giving her a smile, Scott took a deep breathe, trying to think that what is happening is just a haze.
A bad dream…
Everything turned out wrong. The mission to rescue the first Mutant was one big burst. Scott originally thought that things were going well. Yes, there was an unexpected presence of the Mutant Hunter. But still he thought that, the robot could be handled. Had been handled.
That was his hubris…
Maybe he should have just focused on getting both Mutants out of there sooner. Maybe he should have focused all efforts on destroying Nimrod. Maybe he should have put one of the team's Telepath among the lookout… Maybe. Maybe. Maybe!
Tears dripped down Scott's visor, while Emma pulled him into a one hand hug.
"You tried your best, Honey." Emma said soothingly.
Shaking his head, Scott replied. "But it still isn't enough, Emma. Jeffery's dead… I said that everyone's going home. But Emma… Where is our home in this world? Time and time again we protect it, and time and time again, we're all persecuted without prejudice."
The X-Man bit his lips hard enough to draw blood. "I'm just hanging by the thread, Emma. And I'm afraid of what will happen when I fall into that haze of hate."
"You won't. Not after everything, you've gone through. Take it from one who had once been your enemy. Scott, you are stronger than this, I know that. I know you can get through this. I'm here with you, remember that."
"… … Thanks Emma."
"Anything, Darling."
Looking at where the Avenger's had gathered themselves. Scott still had to take a deep breath to stop himself from marching and demanding why they let Nimrod take that chance to attack his people. But Scott knew it won't bring Jeffery back.
Now he has to focus on more important issues. Like that of the new berserk Mutant.
"Hey, Emma, can you pinpoint where our new friend is?"
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
It was a sight, while common to the ones that had some of connection to the supernatural happenings pertaining to space, would have been impossible to be witnessed by the mundane eyes.
*Bam!*
⸢Arms of Belial⸥ pummel the Redeemer without giving it time to rest, while Spawn sprayed endless amounts of eldritch-fire infused bullets of its chassis.
A particularly large cannon aimed at Spawn's back. But with a rattling sound, chains flew from beneath his jacket wrapping over the mortar's head and crushed it.
*Boom!*
Multiple cannons appeared in response. But ⸢Arms of Belial⸥ promptly deleted them away. If it weren't for the Heavenly Flames then the Redeemer would have been done away as well. Well no matter, this was a battle of attrition that the Redeemer could not win.
But the Redeemer knew that. Like it said before, fighting an awakened Spawn was the worst case scenario. So what the Redeemer had to do is to adjust its plans accordingly.
As long as the one, Abram Adams exists. Spawn can be defeated.
[Initiate teleportation jump… Planet Earth.]
- Spawn Ω Archetype-
Ω
Ω
Just when the people of Earth thought that the bizarre omens of the heavens were over. It suddenly returned. With a loud sound of rustling chains and the mechanical whirring of robotic parts. Guns and demonic large arms, pointed at an array of cannons and a rail-gun.
It is time for the Second Round…
Spawn vs the Redeemer!
Ω
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Cool story idea, I'd love to see more of this story.
This seems promising. I'm definitely watching this story with great interest.