Pain.

He was no stranger to pain.  He had trained for the Street Fighter tournaments by wrestling bears in the sub-zero terrain of Siberia.  The numerous scars all over his body were testament to the ferocity of those wild animals.  But in the end, he had always triumphed—no creature, man or beast, could match his strength or iron will.

Agony.

No, the pain did not frighten him; it strengthened him.  The helplessness, however, frustrated and defeated him.  His bonds were made of some reinforced steel, against which he had strained for days to break.  All to no avail.

Numbness.

Void and emptiness.  The pain was receding.  His blood, for days the messenger of fiery torment, pumped with chemicals that would have killed any other man, now moved sluggishly through his veins.  A veil seemed to pass over his senses; every sound was muted and unintelligible, his vision was covered by a dim, red haze.

Rage.

The chains which held him could do so no longer.  His muscles were now stronger than any ordinary steel.  Such bonds meant nothing to him.  He flexed, his muscles bulged out of the chains, then broke them, sending metal fragments flying everywhere.

Freedom.

"Excellent.  He is stronger than even I imagined."  The silky, self-assured voice seemed to linger as admiringly as the gaze of the speaker over the incredible physique of the captive.

"Amazing."  Even the scientist seemed in awe.  "Wait!  He is no longer responding to our instruments!"  He watched, horrified, as the subject's skin darkened to a dusky purplish-grey.  His veins protruded, crimson red.  His eyes opened, bloodshot and unseeing.

"What is wrong?"  The scientist's large, powerful employer strode over towards his prize.  "What happened?" he demanded.  "Why is he mutating?"

"Uh, um," the scientist could not hold his aplomb in the face of the Kingpin's awesome authority.  "The serum introduces changes to the body.  That much we know, but its only subjects have been...a weak, sickly human and...well, though it created the perfect soldier out of Steve Rogers, what you gave me, Zangief, is an unparalleled specimen of human strength and endurance."

"So," mused the Kingpin, "I should expect this...creature to far surpass Captain America, is that what you are saying?"

"Yes...uh, no, I mean, that is...maybe.  The serum has only been successfully administered once before.  If this serum is not in fact the Super Soldier Formula, then...I have no idea."

The subject suddenly roared and broke free of its thick restraints.  The scientist tried to retreat, but Zangief batted him aside.  The Kingpin raised his walking stick to a defensive position.

"Why is he attacking?  I thought you programmed him to be loyal to me?"

"Not you.  Me."

The Kingpin turned around in surprise at the voice.  "YOU!"

Vega chuckled, "Yes, me."  He floated calmly to the Kingpin's side.  "You didn't think I would give you the formula for nothing, did you, Fisk?"

"You snake!"

The Kingpin lashed out with his club, but Zangief grabbed his shoulders, immobilizing his arms.  Without so much as a grunt of effort, he threw the sizable Kingpin upwards, through the roof of his laboratory.

Vega laughed in glee as his rival crashed back down, through the hole in the ceiling, to the floor, THROUGH the floor, into the level below.

"Tsk tsk, Wilson Fisk.  But enough of you.  I have bigger...uh, more important fish to fry."

He turned back towards his newest soldier.

"Go forth, show the world the true power of--!"

"Shadaloo, right?  Now where have I heard THAT before?" an insouciant voice interrupted the dictator's rhetoric.

Vega looked up through the hole in the ceiling, spotting the costumed wallcrawler who was peering curiously at the scene.

"Insolent pest!  Destroy him!" he ordered Zangief.  "New York is yours to rampage!"

Zangief crouched, then leaped up through the hole, grabbing at Spiderman.  The wallcrawler blanketed the Russian juggernaut with webbing, but Zangief moved towards him relentlessly, without pausing, as the webbing showered him without effect.  Though usually confident that his superhuman strength allowed him to hold his own with any normal human, Spiderman backed off, a bit unnerved by the unstoppable Zangief.  He shot a line of webbing at a nearby overhang, then swung his body at Zangief, hoping to knock him back with the added momentum, then dance out of the way before he could be hit.

The Russian zombie obviously did not want to play by the rules.  Though he took Spiderman's feet straight in the face, Zangief hardly slowed.  He clamped his mouth down on Spidey's leg, then grabbed the off-balance wall-crawler.  Leaping forward, he slammed Spiderman face-first into the floor.  Dazed, but still conscious, Spiderman threw a punch reflexively, hoping to dislodge Zangief's hold on his legs.  He planted a haymaker into Zan's abdomen, then one a bit lower, but felt like he was striking a metal plate.

"Ach!  Guy like this doesn't need a jock--ulp!"  Spiderman felt the wind whistling past as Zangief, still holding onto his prey, jumped off the building, spinning madly, legs clamped tight around Spidey's chest, using him as a cushion as the ground approached.  Desperately, Spiderman managed to free an arm and raise it over his head to absorb the impact, but every bone in his body seemed to shatter as he bounced once, twice, and slammed into a car, setting off the alarm.

Trying to regain his feet, Spiderman cast about wildly for Zangief, but the Russian was gone.  A trail of car alarms was left in his wake, but Spiderman was too tired and sore to care.  For all his superhuman strength and endurance, his arm was broken in at least two places, his shoulder hung out of its socket, and his head was ringing.

Time to send in my clone, thought Ben Reilley.  I hope Parker isn't too busy.  He tried to stagger off but collapsed again.  Maybe I could get someone to make a few more clones, he mused.  Then the darkness overwhelmed him.

However much she wanted to shut Lilith up, Morrigan knew the little demon was right.  It was boring here.  Even superheroes and archvillains didn't have much in the way of stamina.  How disappointing.  The "Fantastic" Four?  Yeah, right.  Though Mister Fantastic, or "Stretcho" had been rather interesting...

For all of ten minutes.  Not too bad, actually, but Morrigan and Lilith deserved better.

Sighing, she looked around as she flew above the city.

Her keen ears picked up a radio announcement: "Evacuate the city in an orderly fashion.  I repeat: evacuate!  An unknown mutant has been rampaging Manhattan for the last four hours and is making his way downtown, with no sign of slowing or stopping.  Evacuate immediately!"

"Did you hear that?" cried Lilith from within her mind.  "This is our big break!"

Morrigan was already seeking the unstoppable Russian with the endless stamina of a...well-oiled machine.

Go on to Scene Four!