THE WALKING GHOSTS OF MT. OLYMPUS

the forty-second tale

written by Mark Bousquet

2201 / February

THE REALM OF DREAMS

A flaming head screamed in anger, "The Mists of Madness are upon you, demi-god! The next person you shall see, will be the person you will be! Two centuries shall you live without you, the penalty for crossing the dread Dormammu!"

Sleeping in his chamber at the relocated Mt. Olympus, hidden away deep in the Dead Corner of Space, Santa Claus tossed and turned at the dream that had been part of his life for as long as he could remember.

ASGARD / JOTUNHEIM

Beta Ray Bill had been travelling through Jotunheim for the past four days, hiking across the icy plains, searching for the Olympian city that Eshir and Ben-Vell had discovered.* The city was buried somewhere under the great ice sheets, encased in a tomb of ice. Bill came upon a small hut where the keeper of the last Frost Giant lived, and knocked on the door.

* AGC 30: JONAS

A scuffling noise alerted Bill that the woman was inside, and he waited patiently for the beautiful goddess to come to the door.

"Hello, Bill," the voice came to him from behind the door. "Are you here alone?"

"I am," he nodded.

The door opened slowly and a beautiful woman, unknown to most, was revealed to Bill. "I am sorry, Bill. You were always the most kind to me."

Bill shook his head, "You were to be the wife of Thor, milady Persephone. He would not rest easy if he were to know you were being overly mistreated."

She half-smiled, her voice low, "I am lucky to even be alive, Bill, as you well know. After my fellow Olympians violated the Non-Interference Pact, and involved themselves against Asgard during Ragnarok …" She turned her head away, opening the door wider. "Come inside, Bill, it is cold outside, even for Jotunheim, and it has been a long time since I had a visitor. Would you honor me with your gentle presence?"

Bill nodded, stepping inside, "I would, milady." Beta Ray Bill was a cyborg warrior, the chosen one of his race who was given cyber-organic enhancements. He could change from his warrior-form back to his original form, thanks to an enchantment of Odin. It was this form he changed into as he brushed the snow from his clothes.

Persephone's hut was that, and little more. The wooden building held a bed, a stove, a table, and a small floor between them. Cracks were evident in the walls, but a magical enhancement kept out most of the cold. Persephone smiled, "I would like the opportunity to rebuild this hut. When the Asgardians forced me to build my own abode, I hadn't the skill to do the job." Bill said nothing, smiling politely as the memories came back to him.

2152 / November

St. Petersburg, Russia

Thor stalked the city of St. Petersburg, anger boiling in his veins. Cold rain came down in sheets, and Thor buried his hands in the pocket of his brown overcoat. The rain caked his long blonde hair to his forehead, and matted in his short, rough beard. Mjolnir and his helmet had been left behind in Asgard. The people he was here to investigate had recognized Mjolnir in the past, and Thor was here to gather information. He felt naked without his hammer, but Odin had decreed that it should not go with Thor on this mission, and Thor followed the orders of his father.

The streets were crowded, even in the downpour, and the hum of electricity filled the air. St. Petersburg was one of many Midgardian cities that had come to the technological era in pieces and unconnected steps. There was no plan here, and the technology was a mix of Russian, German, American, Chinese, Wakandan, and Japanese. Probably more, too, but Thor wasn't interested. Neon signs shown down a mix of colored lights, and the constant shifting of color kept the city as wired as the nicotine injections that were so popular with the city’s lower class.

The Thunder God found the entire look and feel of these so-called techno cities hard to stomach. They were crowded, overburdened, dismal, void of all greenery. Niffleheim wasn’t nearly as miserable as places such as this.

A flash of lightning drew Thor’s eyes skyward, and in the waves of neon signs, he saw the symbol he came looking for – a white circle on a red flag, and in the circle, a black eye-ball inlaid with a black swastika in the stead of an iris.

The Church of Wotan.

Thor took several deep breaths to calm his anger, but as the neon colors bounced off the rain-soaked flag, the son of Odin reached subconsciously for the hammer that wasn’t there. The Church of Wotan was a neo-Nazi organization, created originally as a front for Hydra. The Avengers files listed the beginning of the Church in the United States to June of 2005, in the aftermath of the super-villain community spreading out from New York to populate the rest of the country.* The Church was founded by Andreas and Andrea Strucker, twin-children of Baron Von Strucker, and known in the criminal community as Fenris.

* AGC 25: ASCENSION / ABANDONMENT Part III: Villainy Spreads Its Wings

A man bumped into Thor and fell to the ground. "Watch it!" he yelled up at the god of Thunder, and then quickly scurried away when he saw the anger hidden behind the tall man’s eyes.

The Church of Wotan was Fenris’ attempt to gain control of Hydra, and it became one of the criminal organization’s special forces for decades. Now it had split with Hydra, and gone public, taking its message to a wider audience. Wide enough to draw the attention of Odin, himself, who became outraged that there were those using his name as a front for hatred and genocide,

Thor frowned, correcting himself. For long years Odin hadn’t cared, not wanting to be bothered by the happenings on Midgard. But slowly, as the Eternal War began to take root and Odin became convinced that Asgard would need to take the lead against Thanos, his eye turned back to Earth, and became disturbed by what he saw. The Church of Wotan had become a symbol to him of all that was wrong with the planet, a microcosm of why Earth would be so useless an ally. Heroes who left to fight in the War would have their home cities burned by those seeking to use their absence to their advantage. They were people who failed to see the big picture, and Odin had sent Thor to Midgard to investigate.

A trail had led him here with hints of a major ceremony and whispers of a godly device.

Tokens the mortals had no business wielding.

Moving to the entranceway, a black door with no windows, Thor came eye-to-eye with a large man in a black overcoat, his face hidden behind a black, leather mask. "I seek entrance," Thor announced.

"You are not a member of the Church of Wotan," the doorman replied, folding his large arms across his chest.

"I seek to join."

"Why tonight?"

"Why is tonight different from any other night?"

The large man looked hard at Thor, searching his eyes. "Tis about time thou hath arrived, Thor Odinson."

Thor’s eyes flashed briefly before regaining composure, "How is it thou knowest the Son of Odin, stranger?"

"Stranger?" the doorman asked, his hands reaching up to pull off the leather mask. "Is it possible, Odinson, that you hath forgotten Skurge, the Executioner?"

Thor’s eyes narrowed, "If thou wish to fight, Skurge-"

"Fight?" Skurge chuckled, his voice dropping low. "Thine father hath freed me from Valhalla months ago, Thor, to infiltrate this Church."

"Months ago?" Thor asked, raising an eyebrow.

Skurge slapped a large hand on Thor’s shoulder, "Thine father is wiser about the world of Midgard than he doth demonstrate to his son. Long does it take Odin to admit that Thor was right when he was wrong. Now," his mood turned dark, "we must enter this Church and disrupt their latest plot."

"Which is?" Thor asked, as Skurge opened the door.

"They seek to sacrifice a beautiful young maiden to the gods," Skurge explained. "But we must be careful, Odinson, for the maiden they hath captured is not an ordinary mortal." Skurge stopped to look Thor in the eye, "They hold captive the goddess Persephone, a gift from Pluto."

2201 / February

ASGARD / JOTUNHEIM

Bill sipped on a cup of warm tea, "Thor has told me that he fell in love with you at first sight, milady."

Persephone allowed herself a small smile, "Thor fell in love with many women in that manner, Bill. It took years, decades, for our love to grow. Years I spent on Earth, pretending to be human, both to those around me, and to those here on Asgard." The still young-looking Olympian shook her head, "I mourn him more with each passing day." Bill gave her several minutes to regain her composure, sipping easily on the tea, until she was ready to continue. "When the Olympians violated the Non-Interference Pact, I was certain I would be killed, Bill, whichever side won."

"There were those who wanted your head," Bill admitted, "but in the end, there had been enough death."

"And so I was relegated here, to the ice sheets of Jotunheim, to care for the last Frost Giant."

"How is Ymir?"

Persephone looked at Bill with large, sad eyes, "Imagine, Bill, the loneliness at being the last of your kind. And then imagine the pain that would come with that if you were also the first of your kind, as well. He is old, and tired, and almost lost beneath the ice he has helped to create." She forced a smile, "But enough of me, old friend. It has been too long since I have had visitors, and in my prolonged solitude I have grown rude. What is it that brings you to the ice sheets of Jotunheim?"

Bill placed his tea down on the table, frowning.

"Does it have to do with the young Orphans who were here recently?" Persephone asked.

"You saw them?" Bill asked, surprised.

Persephone nodded, "I saw them out there on the plains. Indeed, I expected them to head this way. But then they vanished. I feared them lost on the plains, and my searching found a crack in the ice as evidence of their travels. Calling to them brought no response. I returned here to send word to King Balder, when a last glance saw them hurrying back towards the Golden Realm."

"Do you think you could find the location of this crack, again?" Bill asked.

Persephone thought as she glanced to the walls, "The opening has surely been covered by now, but I believe I could lead you to the general location." She looked at Bill, his gentle features showing no evidence of the hard warrior that lay within, "May I ask why?"

Bill frowned, "I fear telling you will bring the past back into your life, milady."

She smiled politely, "Old friend, I live in solitude, surrounded by cold desolation as penalty for loving an Asgardian. My only sustenance comes from a magical pouch of Loki’s that provides one meal a day. Every four days I leave here to trek into the mountain range to the north, where I tend to the needs of the last Frost Giant." She held Bill’s eyes, "I live with my past every day of my existence, and shall until the end of days. Fear nothing with your news."

"Brave words, Persephone," Bill cautioned, "but still I regret what it is I have to tell you." He paused. "Young Ben-Vell and Eshir found, beneath the ice sheets, a hidden Olympian village. We believe it is how they breached our perimeter and attacked Asgard during Ragnarok."

Persephone shook her head, "It … it isn’t possible, but yet …"

Bill nodded, "It explains much."

Persephone stood, nervous, "Do you think they could still-"

"We do not know. Our belief is that it cannot, but that is the task I have been charged to complete." Bill rose, "Can you show me where Ben and Eshir fell through the ice?"

Persephone reached for her cloak, "I shall try. Come, we haven’t much daylight left." Bill tapped his walking stick on the floor, and in a flash he reverted to his cyborg/warrior form. She reached out to hold his arm steady, "Bill, I … must ask. Have any Olympians returned? I know most died during Ragnarok, but some disappeared, and I cannot help but wonder …"

Bill shook his head, "You are one of the two walking ghosts of that once proud city, milady. Just as you have been for nearly seven standard years."

She held his gaze, her hand clenching his arm tighter, "And my fellow Olympian? Does he still walk the mortal plain cloaked in the robes of madness?"

Bill nodded, "I am afraid he does, milady. Now, please, let us begin our search."

THE DEAD CORNER OF SPACE

MT. OLYMPUS

"How is she?" Franklin Richards asked, coming to stand near the bed of Canticle Guthrie. "I have learned that the ‘Machine’ she talks about is, in fact, ISAAC the Supreme Intelligence, a merged being that has recently been destroyed, leading to-"

Eros burped, interrupting Franklin. He rubbed his large waist, not caring for an explanation, "Getting better." Eros sat near Canticle’s bed in the small hospital room, bored out of his skull. The brother of Thanos looked at the most powerful mutant in all creation, still trapped within a five year old’s body. "Let me ask you something, Franky-baby. I may spend most of my time drunk, but I see things. My drunkenness, as it is, can be something of an act, on occasion."

Franklin turned his eyes to Eros, "Your point?"

"You’ve got a plan," Eros pointed a finger at Franklin. "You’re building something here. I don’t know what, but it’s something. An army, perhaps?"

"You’re a drunken fool, Eros," Franklin snorted. "An army? If I wanted to create an army, I’d close my eyes and snap my fingers and an army would be mine to command."

"What, then?" Eros asked, not bothered by the slam. "You and Astoria are gathering people here: me, Canticle, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Cosmic Flame … what’s going on here?"

Franklin’s voice was cold and hard, a voice that shouldn’t be able to come from the lips of a five year old’s body. "Here," he waved his hand, instantly creating a case of liquor and a buffet table crammed with food, "stuff your fat body with your desires."

Eros’ eyes widened at the display of the food and drink, "Um, while I have you here, Franklin, I have … other desires that need quenching."

Franklin laughed, "You’re disgusting, Eros. Do not ever change." He snapped his fingers and two women popped into existence, giggling and jiggling before Eros, clothed in the skimpiest of bikinis."

The Eternal’s eyes glazed over as the women bounced to him, "Oh, Eros likey very much. Come here, my lovelies."

The child-god laughed, "Take your women away from Canticle, Eros." Franklin smiled as he left the hospital room he had created inside an Olympian temple, stepping immediately out into a glorious courtyard. Eros was thinking, a dangerous sign of his boredom, and Franklin knew that soon he would have to act, or risk-

"Hey!" Franklin turned to see Santa Claus stomping across the grounds towards him. "I want to talk to show you something, ya little rat bastard!"

"Oh, really?" Franklin asked, amused to no end by Santa’s actions. "Have you been making a list, perhaps? Checking it twice, finding out who’s been-"

"Knock that shit off!" Santa roared, grabbing Franklin by the collar. "I’ve got something to show your smart ass, and then you’ve got some bleepity-bleep-dang-nabbit explaining to do!"

Franklin rolled his eyes, letting Santa carry him angrily across Mt. Olympus, wondering what, exactly, this big idiot could possibly want.

ASGARD / JOTUNHEIM

"I believe this is the place," Persephone shuddered within her robes.

Beta Ray Bill looked down at the ice sheet, motioning for Persephone to stand back. He pointed the hammer at the surface, and fired a bolt of electricity at the surface, causing it to crack and split. Moving his arms around, Bill chipped away at the ice until an opening to a large chasm appeared.

"There are many passageways beneath the sheets, Bill," Persephone called to him, "and the shifting causes these passages to change from time-to-time. I cannot guarantee that you will seek what you find below, but I do believe this is the correct area."

Bill would have smiled if his "horse-face" allowed it, "You have done me a great favor, Persephone. Please, return now to your hut and get out of this cold."

She looked expectantly to Bill, "I … I would dearly love to see Olympian architecture again, old friend."

"I am afraid Balder’s orders forbid that, milady," Bill shook his head. "After I scout the location, however, and determine that it poses no threat, I shall come back for you, and allow you to walk through the streets. But not before that, I am afraid. Ymir needs a caretaker, and if bad fortune should fall upon you …"

"Someone else would have to take up this task," Persephone dropped her head, disappointed. "I understand. I should be happy that I have received a visitor this day at all. Best of luck, Bill. I will eagerly await your return."

Nodding his farewell, Beta Ray Bill swung his hammer in short, tight circles, and jumped into the chasm.

THE DEAD CORNER OF SPACE

MT. OLYMPUS

"You’re doing something here," Santa Claus challenged, dropping Franklin to his feet. "You look like a little kid, but your talk reminds me of someone else."

"And who would that be?" Franklin asked, looking up into the eyes of a man who suddenly looked slightly less insane.

"This guy," Santa answered, pointing to a statue of Zeus. "He was a big talker, too, who liked to make plans and carry on like he was someone important."

Franklin looked at Santa skeptically, "Well, that is Zeus. King of the gods and all that. He was someone important."

"I’ve been doing a lot of walking around this here place you got us holed up in," Santa announced, scratching his scraggly beard as he changed the subject. "Been doing some thinking."

"That so?"

"Yeah, that’s so, you little wise-ass," Santa leered down. "Been having these nightmares lately, ‘bout a guy with his head on fire."

"Sounds like the Cosmic Flame," Franklin suggested, curious as to where Santa was going, both figuratively and literally, as Santa started to move down the walkway containing statues of the Greek gods.

"Yeah," Santa said, his eyes drifting momentarily to the horizon. "But it’s not him. This guy in my dreams is scary-looking. I think his name is Doormaroom or Doormamat or something."

"Dormammu?" Franklin asked, his interest growing with every step.

"Nah, that’s not it," Santa shook his head.

"Yeah, I think it is," Franklin answered.

"Well, whatever," Santa threw up his hands, growing angrier. "I just know I been having these nightmares lately, about this Door-MA-moo guy and this far-out dimension, and some chicky-babe named Jenny Kale I saved." Santa scratched his head, "What I couldn’t figure out is why would I be saving some young lady, even if she was a hottie, you know? Santa delivers gifts, but he doesn’t play the hero. Oh, sure, Santa saves a reindeer now and then, or helps break up a fight between elves, but Santa’s not some big hero action dude." Santa stopped walking and looked down at Franklin, "And then I got to thinking, I’m not fat. And Santa, you know, has a bowl full of jelly in his belly." Santa pulled up his red shirt to reveal a muscled abdomen, "Look at it. Pretty damn impressive. Probably one of the reasons why I kick that Easter Bunny’s ass whenever we go at it. And that’s another thing." Santa leaned down close to Franklin’s face, "Why in the blue J-E-L-L-O spells Jell-O am I kicking anyone’s ass? Or swearing?" Santa stood back up, "I can’t remember the last time I delivered presents. Where’s Mrs. Claus?"

"Can we wrap this up sometime this year?" Franklin asked, wanting to push Santa to conclusion before the big dolt forgot what he was talking about.

"I started thinking, maybe I’m not really Santa Claus," Santa admitted.

Franklin shrugged, "Who would’ve guessed?"

"Then I saw that statue of Zeus down there and thought of how much he reminded me of you. Which is when I started walking and thinking and walking and thinking and walking and thinking. I ended up here and something in my head clicked."

"What?"

"I think this statue right here is who I really am." Franklin looked behind Santa, as the older man continued, "My name’s not Santa Claus. It’s Hercules."

ASGARD / JOTUNHEIM

After several hours of walking through passageways, Beta Ray Bill felt a surge of adrenaline as he came upon the hidden Olympian village. The entrance that Ben and Eshir had created through the sheet of ice that hid and protected the village was barely visible, but Bill had no trouble smashing through the newly formed ice.

Moving through the ice, Bill’s eyes opened in surprise as he moved into the village. That it was an Olympian village was unmistakable. Bill’s thoughts returned to Ragnarok, to the darkest days of the Eternal War and the horrors that fell upon the Golden Realm during the two year struggle.

There was movement at the edge of his vision, and Bill turned just in time to be rocked by a bolt of magical energy. He struggled to his feet, trying to shake the cobwebs, and when he opened his eyes he saw a sight that sent a chill down his cyber-organically enhanced spine.

A being smiled, as he strode confidently into the open, "After all this time, Beta Ray Bill, I cannot tell you how good it feels to once again walk the mortal plane."

Bill set his feet, letting his right hand fight the right balance in the grip on his hammer, "Why have you returned, P-aaaaaarghhhh!!!!!!" Another magical bolt ripped through Bill's body.

Pluto, the Olympian god of the Underworld, let a satisfied smile ease across his face, "Everything you think you know about the Eternal War, cyborg, is about to change." He pointed an outstretched arm at Bill, preparing himself to launch another attack, "Soon, it will be the time of Revelations, and after that … the end of the Everything."

end THE WALKING GHOSTS OF MT. OLYMPUS

I live with my past every day of my existence, and shall until the end of days.

Y G G D R A S I L

comments to northern022@hotmail.com

Hello, again, everyone. Hope you enjoyed this month's revelations and the tease for things to come. There will probably be a short break now before AGC 43 sees print, for two reasons. One, I've put out so many issues in so short a time, that I want to give everyone a chance to catch up. Secondly, the way I write the longer arcs involves getting a good majority of the overall story done before I post anything, allowing me the freedom to revise as much as possible as I go. I won't say when AGC 43 will come, but I will say that it will be the first issue of an arc that will lead at least up to issue 50. So thanks for reading, and if you're all caught up with AGC, I hope you can give me a little time to get the next arc planned as tightly as possible.

Three letters this month, two from Russ Anderson.

AGC 36-39

Mark,

Okay.  FINALLY managed to catch up with your writing spurt on AGC.  What follows is the standard

 glowing praise you should have come to expect from me by now.

The talk of #39's 'surprise ending' on the list sucked me in and I've got to say, even expecting something 

big at that issue's conclusion, I still didn't see that particular plot twist coming.  Still, it makes perfect sense, 

both in terms of story logic and plot progression.  It occurred to me afterward that a major defection is the one 

thing we HADN'T seen in the Eternal War yet.  In retrospect, much of the preceding 38 issues were spent dealing 

with wild cards -- Franklin, Olympus, the Gobliness, Earth, Galactus, etc.  I liked that stuff quite a bit, but this

 issue's ending ought to bring things together and strongly focus the book for its third act.

There were 5 or 6 noticeable proofreading goofs over the course of the 4 issues.  Not too shabby, 

but I want PERFECTION, damnit!  Don't make me come over there...

Keep up the good work.  I'm looking forward to the sprint to #50.

Russ

P.S. I caught that mention of the Bliss in #38.  What's the deal with Warlock, anyway?  Are you still writing it?

Thanks as always, Russ. The defection of Ochken allows for a split of the Kree and gives the interesting subplot of the Supreme Intelligence being an ally of the Council, which should provide for many interesting conflicts on the Council itself. Sorry about the proofreading goofs, I'll try better in the future.

As for WARLOCK, I have stopped writing that title. I enjoyed writing that book, but there's only so much time to write and my interest now is focused mostly here. I've been writing this book for close to 3 1/2 years now, and I just felt it's time to really focus in on this now. I hope someone picks up the reigns on WARLOCK because he's a great character.

A great character who will be appearing here in the near future.

Re: AGC #40-41

Brilliant, man. Brilliant.

Beautiful send off for a character we didn't get to know well enough until the very end. Why do I get the feeling this was another one of your cunningly insightful last minute decisions?

Keep up the good work. At this rate, you just might hit #50 before the spring semester. :-)

Russ

Very perceptive, Russ. Empire's death was something that came up at the beginning of the EMBERS storyline. I've always said that a writer has to give a story what it needs and I just felt like this was the time for him to go. His death allows for me to push a lot of the plots that are coming in the next arc forward.

Mark...

Wow! One thing pops to my mind, how do you keep so many plots going at the same time? It's incredible! Anyways, this week I decided to catch up with AGC and went from the Fantastic Mystery storyline up to the end of Embers of Hala and boy was it worth it! Great characters great plot and great well-written action sequences! All this just leaves people wanting for more! (But 6 issues in a week is OK!) Anyways, keep on writing!

Dominic

PS Why don't you start a second title AGC: Tales from Earth, you can do the Saviors story or any more flashbacks there

PPS This may be a stupid question, but where the humans aware that Earth went missing?

Best way to keep multiple plots going, Dominic, is to keep good notes. :) Thanks for writing, and I'm glad you're enjoying the ride. As for your questions … a second AGC title has been a very real possibility for a while, but starting a second title slows down the main book. Still, I'm at the point now in AGC that the Eternal War is starting to pick up steam and there are stories I want to tell that have nothing to do with the War, so you just may see that second title before long.

As for the humans and Earth … that's a question that will be answered in the not-too-distant future.

Thanks for reading and writing, everyone.

-- Mark Bousquet …

Northern Bear Productions

17 January 2002