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| The Mighty Thor 2099UG Issue #9 "The Calm Before the Storm" Written by Jason C. Smith |
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| The 2099 Underground is a project whereby a group of fans are putting together a series of stories continuing from Marvel's fantastic futuristic 2099! Ignoring the ignoble and inaccurate "2099: World of Tomorrow", we're exploring what we feel is the true spirit of 2099 as envisioned by then Editor-in-Chief Joey Cavalieri. Participation is open to all. Comments about this issue should be sent to the author. Or you can visit our message board and post your thoughts on the issue. Anyone wishing to join the mailing list should do so by signing up at Yahoo! Groups. It's free and easy! Simply type in the keyword "Ghostworks" and you're good to go. |
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| The Saint Patrick's Church in Downtown, New York, has seen much trouble in the past few months. It wasn't long ago that it housed a fight between the cannibalistic Vulture and the infamous figure known as Spider-Man. Father Jennifer welcomed the protection of the S-Man at first, but found that it came with a price... she was under constant attack from the cliques of Downtown. The Freakers were frequently raiding her church for items such as food and medication. Thankfully, her encounter with Spider-Man led to her meeting the mysterious figure known as the Net Prophet. He gave her the means to protect herself and her church. He used his bizarre teleportation abilities to conjure up a chest that possessed a mask, which was demonic in appearance. The Father had been reluctant to use the mask, but finally found her opportunity when she became disgusted with the Spider-Man's affairs in the Downtown area. She was convinced that he was working for Alchemax, and she planned to prove it anyway possible, even if that meant turning the people of Downtown against their hero. She even went as far as to enlist the help of the Vulture! However, the church was under attack once again by an unseen force. The power of the Tetragammon corrupted the mask that she used to transform into the super-powered being known as the Goblin. Therefore, once she became the Goblin, she was under the ancient being's complete control. This led in her direct confrontation with Downtown's protector -- Morbius! Finally, the pseudo-vampire was able to help her win control of the Goblin, and defeat the mysterious Tetragammon. She fled the church, looking for a way to regain her faith and redeem herself. This left the church open to attack again, until the noble Thor, leader and guardian of the Fenris, placed it under his protection. It wasn't long before the church gained attention once more, as it was the source of a bizarre ritual that was being performed by disciples of the enigmatic Lord Tyme. Apparently, his agent, the Apostle, was using his ability to manipulate energy to penetrate the time barrier, extracting the Net Prophet from a particular point in history -- right after his introduction to the world of 2099 to be exact! There were hopes from Lord Tyme that this ritual would leave the Net Prophet confused and disorientated, ensuring that he would be easily manipulated into replacing one of his top agents, Scout, who had fled. There were plenty of disciples on the scene to strong-arm any on-lookers or others who attempted to get involved. This called for the immediate attention of the resident Thunder God! Fortunately, the Scout had fled only to find help in the form of one massive God of Thunder. After explaining the situation at hand, Thor decided to help Scout stop his ex-Master. Upon hearing reports, Scout used the chronological energies that he had stored within his battery-like cells to teleport himself, Thor, Kabal, and his Lady Sif to the church. While opposing the disciples, Thor and company found themselves so overwhelmed that they could not possibly prevent the Apostle from acquiring the Net Prophet. The Scout, however, did manage to rescue the time-lagged Prophet, using his own chronological energy to speed up the recovery process. Upon having yet another of his plans spoiled by his ex-agent, the Lord Tyme used his extensive chronological power to transport all at the scene, save his disciples, back in time -- weeks prior to the explosion that would result in the destruction of Alchemax! The remaining disciples who could still walk, or weren't unconscious, looked about in complete and utter confusion. Their Lord's intent had been to use the Net Prophet, to trick him into believing that he had to stop the destruction of Alchemax. His ultimate goal was to ensure that the Virtual Unreality Portal would not be destroyed, so that he might harness the massive amounts of alien energy there to further his own ends. He was tampering with the flow of the time-stream, but he felt that it was justified. He sincerely believed that wielding this power would enable him to stop the End. However, despite the odds, the group led by Scout managed to correct the wrongs committed by Lord Tyme. They had to fight through villains such as Venom, Halloween Jack, the Apostle, and an enormous army sent by Lord Tyme. And they were victorious! That was a mere moment ago. The disciples who remained at the church after the abrupt departure of the heroes and the Apostle began to slowly regroup. They were now alone with no guidance in this bizarre world. They were not accustomed to life in the real world for they resided outside of time, with their Master. They continued to look about as the air began to grow thick around them. It shimmered as they got to their feet, ready for just about anything. Suddenly they could vaguely see the outline of five people, huddled together. There was no mistaking who the five were as they began to fade into clear sight. No sooner had the heroes vanished, had they returned. Despite their earlier victory they were now surrounded by yet more disciples. Scout stepped forward from the group as he saw their foes approaching. They stopped, unsure of what to expect. This man had once been a leader to them, and now he appeared to be counted amongst their enemies. They had already been forced to fight him once this evening and it bothered them not... to do it again. He raised his hand up, motioning for them to stop and listen. "Turn and leave, before anymore blood is shed. Your Lord has been defeated with the help of the almighty Thunder God. The Apostle has been exiled to the alien landscape of the Virtual Unreality Dimension. Leave here, before you are forced to join him." The disciples stood before the group, unsure of what to do. They could do as the Scout had said, but to where would they flee? They had no knowledge of this land. Also, there was always the possibility that their Lord would punish them if they did so. It would be better to face exile, or death, at the hands of these warriors than to face the wrath of their Lord, they thought. The two groups stood in silence. The only sound to be heard was that of the red robes the disciples wore flapping in the wind. Although they were completely outnumbered, Thor and his company stood ready to fight. The tall, muscular god stood with sacred Mjolnir in hand. The holy hammer had sacrificed many during his trip to the past, and it was prepared to take down more in its path. Sif stood with her arms crossed. She was ready to fight, but she didn't desire it like her lover. She could only think about how much she wanted to get home and take a warm bath! Kabal stood with his plasma cannon loaded, and energy radiated from the Net Prophet's eyes. Fortunately for his followers, Lord Tyme decided to spare them this time by teleporting them away from the church and back home to their timeless abode. Thor and his allies now stood alone, with the war ravaged church standing proud and mighty behind him. The tension in the air was now greater than it had ever been. With no more fighting to be done, there were many things left unanswered. Now, it was just a matter of time before someone brought the most important question to surface. "Can you get me home," the Net Prophet asked simply enough. Kabal shook his head, "I hadn't thought of that, Scout. He can't simply stay here! This isn't his time, and surely it would disrupt the flow of the time-stream." "Indeed it would, Kabal. However, I believe I do possess just enough temporal energy to send our fine ally home." "Yes, he was a true warrior," Thor proclaimed. Sif nodded in agreement. "Thank you all very much," the Prophet replied as Thor took his hand in a firm gesture. The Lady Sif reached up, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Kabal nodded his approval to his friend from the past. The Scout sat down on the ground, with his legs crossed. He closed his eyes and began to concentrate. He wasn't sure if he had enough temporal energy to send the Net Prophet back or not, but he thought that his chances were quite slim. His only chance for accomplishing the task laid in the hope that he could pump his temporal energies into the time portal that the Apostle had previously opened. Since it had only been accessed a few seconds ago, he hoped that there might still be just enough of it left open, for him to use his energy to expand it. He pinpointed a source of the portal, and began concentrating. He released the temporal energy slowly, as he opened his hands in front of him. The small speck began to expand as he used his power to literally rip open the walls of time and space. When he finally felt that he had gained enough leverage to open it fully, he dumped all of his power into it with one spectacular display of energy. The flash only lasted for a moment before he bellowed, "Now!" The Net Prophet didn't have to be told twice, as he leapt into the portal, finding his way back to the exact location from which he had been plucked. The Scout stood, and waved his hand in a bizarre motion, enticing the portal to finally shut, and with no more power to feed it, that's exactly what it did. Where there were five, now there were four. "Well, what about you," Sif asked. Thor and Kabal stood in silence, looking at one another. This was one aspect that no one had stopped to consider. Throughout the entire situation Scout had never once thought ahead. Honestly, he hadn't even considered the fact that he might actually survive their journey into the past. Now that he stood safely away from all of the danger and fighting that had taken place, his future was uncertain. He was now in the present, living in a world that he had never known. Now, he was even more confused. He had just used pretenses that were foreign to him. He had just considered the idea of his future, and pinpointed his location to be . . .the present. He had never thought of his future, and exactly who's present was this? His? He didn't know where, or when for that matter, he originated. His face slowly began to convey the mixed emotions that were battling in his psyche. Sif was the first to notice this. She stepped forward placing her hand gently on his arm. Thor eyed the two carefully, even jealously. Kabal paid little attention as he depowered the plasma cannon mounted on his arm. Scout looked at her with soft eyes and a heavy heart. He was very troubled, and Sif knew it. "What's wrong," she asked carefully. "Nothing... well, that's not entirely true. I don't have a time, or home, to return to, like our good friend the Net Prophet. My... ahem... future is now uncertain," he replied. He looked to the sky, which was mostly shielded from the infrastructure above. Yes, he knew that there was little of this planet, this time, which he was aware of. He had to examine it, and that was his next best step... exploring 2099 alone. "Well, you'll always have a place with the Fenris," she said cheerfully. Kabal stepped forward placing his arm on the Scout's shoulder. "Yes, why not join us? I see no reason for you to stray out into a foreign world. There is much we could learn from you, and vice-versa." Thor remained silent before finally adding, "Yes, join us, noble Scout! I would not have it otherwise." Scout looked at him with an uncertain expression. He did feel a connection with these people, and he desired a home to call his own. For once, he had no one to call Master. "I'm not sure," he said. The Thunder God bellowed out in a fit of laughter. "You may make a fine warrior, Scout, but a liar you are not! You know where your heart sits. Join us. The Fenris await you with open arms, and I shall not suffer no for an answer." Scout looked at him fondly. "Yes. I think I will accompany you." Sif threw her arms around Thor. "I knew you'd convince him, Thor!" The church now grew distant as the foursome slowly made their way back to Central Park, as they gave the Scout a tour of the Fenris lands. In the distance, a figure watched them with weary eyes. The figure that resided in shadow, for now, had trailed the God of Thunder from the rubble of Alchemax. It was only a matter of time before Thor and company became aware of the character's presence. Thor's past was quickly coming back to visit him, and it wasn't going to be a pleasant one. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In the Sewers of Downtown The obvious shuffling of dirt and debris rang throughout the hollow arc that once stood as a crowded platform of public transportation. This ancient, abandoned subway station had long been forgotten, and often overlooked by the scavengers who dared to enter the filthy maze that was once the sewers of New York City, and the labyrinth of tracks that had carried train and passenger from one station to the next in hurried anticipation. There was nothing of value to attract the interest of the Pack Rats, and it remained much like it once did during the time of the Heroic Age. Its sole purpose had been that of shelter to the rats, however, it now served as a safe haven for the paranoid figure known as Bloodsword as well. He had retreated to the sewers during an attack on the Fenris by the Vulture and his Freakers. Now, he realized that he had perhaps stumbled over a treasure so valuable that it was worth his most recent bout of humiliation. The silence was only broken by the sound of the rats scurrying about, ensuring that he did not forget of their existence. However, he was about to break the silence once again, for he felt the compulsive urge to peer into the rotten oak chest that housed his precious find. He had stumbled across the trunk, buried beneath some lackluster junk, in the abandoned lair of a Pack Rat den. He had been quite worried once observing the rather rushed state of their departure, for it was clearly apparent that they had left their grounds with no plans of moving, perhaps fleeing some threat that lived in the bowels of the Sewer. The echo of voice and footsteps that had trailed him did little to calm his fears as he had silently searched through the Pack Rat's remains in hope of excavating some survival equipment. What he had found was much more valuable, although his logic failed to understand why. He just knew that the power radiating from the gem within the chest had calmed him, and he knew that he was safe as long as it was within his grasp. He wasn't certain what he was to do with it, but he could feel the mystical might of the cracked gem as his eyes traced the jagged line that accented the missing portion of the jewel. Due to the absent chunk, Bloodsword was unable to read the entire inscription that had blessed the rough exterior of the deep crimson mineral. The presence of the jewel warded off any uncertainty that may have laid dormant within his calm frame. The two things that had stalked his bravery the most were now virtually nonexistent. The darkness was no contender to the sheer magnitude of the light radiating from the magical icon. It shone throughout the man-made cavern like a lone bonfire in the midnight wilderness. The voices and footsteps had vanished into obscurity as Bloodsword placed all of his feverish concentration on the blessed artifact within the trunk. It was the most beautiful image that his weary eyes had ever perceived, and for the first time in his brash life he placed all the hatred and memories of humiliation behind him and focused on the future, one which would prove to be bright and victorious. "With the aid of this age old stone, the gods shall grant me the power to slay the false savior and reclaim my rightful position as the supreme being of the Fenris and Downtown," Bloodsword whispered weakly. His hands shook as they reached out through the still, dead air to grasp the rigid gem before him. His breath grew still in his chest and escaped his body in one excited gasp. The power of the jewel called to him as it embraced his fingertips and spread over his arms in a warm rush. The corners of his mouth curled up as his hands also curled into a cup formation, scooping the mystical rock up from its musty cradle. He held it up over his head in victorious glee as he finally helped it out of its wooden tomb. The rays of light that had raced up from inside the box now shone with no wooden hindrance, and it was being handled by the first pair of flesh covered hands in decades. It had been many years since humanity had faced such a might as this, and the rats hurried off in alarm to signal his arrival. He held it before his face and slowly began to read the writing that had survived throughout the years. "... you who read these words shall become forevermore a human juggernaut," he read aloud with a loud, arrogant voice that pierced the silence, causing all of the mangy rodents to stop dead in their minute steps of motion. And suddenly his arms began to swell as the power entered into his body, transforming it into a vehicle of destruction. His back expanded in a muscular explosion, ripping through the wolf-skin cloak that he had donned for years. In its place grew a mystical garment of strength and protection, which covered his torso, and hardened over his flesh. He quickly fell to his knees in a bout of agony as the ethereal light bathed him in the absolute power, which manifested itself in the form of solid muscles of unequaled mass and raw power. He laid there silently, his breathing appeared to be quite normal despite the amount of pain that his body had been delivered. His huge, mighty chest heaved up and down in a rhythmic pattern before he finally pulled himself up in an inclined position so that he could see. He saw his enlarged arms and a sense of recognition eased into his brow. He had received a gift of unsurpassed strength and glory! "Odin hast delivered his strength to me, and I shall not turn my back! Just as the All Father delivered sacred Mjolnir to the humble Don Blake he hast delivered to me! No one will be able to stop the force of Odin's Chosen Emissary!!! I, Bloodsword, renounce my Midgard identity so that I may be reborn in the image of a more perfect specimen, as are my Asgardian fathers! I am the power of Odin projected on earth, I am the gods' unstoppable Juggernaut," he bellowed with his newly chiseled biceps extended in a portrait of unmatched strength. His legs stretched out across the broken pavement, and he elevated himself in a flash. Despite his enlarged body mass he had no problems moving. He couldn't feel any of the aches and pains that had made themselves at home in his exhausted muscles ever since his skirmish with the man claiming to be Thor. With that thought the memories of his past failures came rushing back in a fit of anger. The hatred that he had set aside for the jewel that now rested on his chest came flowing back with even more bitterness attached. However, he now thought just a bit differently as his muscles tensed. He had been given the power to punish those who would mock him. His Thorite upbringing insisted that he seek revenge, and he smiled with a nod to himself. "The Lord of Lightning shall fall at the hands of Odin's Chosen," he whispered. "The truth shall rain upon us all, and I shall reap the heaven's yield!" The voices that had echoed throughout the tunnels and passageways ceased as his mighty footsteps splashed through the collected bodies of sewer water and waste. A juggernaut crept through the underground night, and no one would dare step in his way, for he was on a one way trip to visit the Fenris. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile In Central Park. . . Perhaps one of the most beneficial aspects of being able to travel through time is that of promptness. It sounded simple enough, yet it was true. Anytime a time traveler was late he, or she, could merely take a few steps back through the chronos and still make any appointment. This was just one of many amusing thoughts clouding the Scout's brain as he lazily strolled through the greenery of Central Park. Solar street lamps kept the grass, shrubs, and trees that once lived here alive, for they no longer absorbed the amount of light needed to sustain life. The shadows of Uptown simply wouldn't allow it. He looked at each piece of life hoping for any mental picture that might trigger some remnant of a memory. He was stuck in the world of 2099 with no knowledge of his real identity or home. He never needed to worry of such things while serving as an Agent for the mysterious Lord Tyme. He had resided outside of the time stream for so long, that he had given up the time constrained personalities of humanity. Just as the other members composing Tyme's cult, he had little interest in matters of time. Simple traditions as birthdays, anniversaries, and funerals were foreign to him. He saw little need in celebrating an event that happened after a particular lapse of time. Luckily, there were a few positive aspects from living his life outside of the time stream, however punctuality was not one of them. Unlike most living beings the Scout never developed impatience, and his thinking was always logical. This helped him keep his cool, and he rarely wasted time dwelling on frustration. However, the Fenris priest, Kabal, was not so lucky. He wasn't exempt from the pressures of society and the usual distaste for tardiness. He was a prisoner of the very frustration that the Scout no longer knew. He sat with his arms crossed outside of his apartment complex. He had done so for quite some time. His patience was now nonexistent. After the recent stress of playing time police Thor and company had separated, each traveling in their own direction. Scout had gone out to explore the world of 2099, leaving his companions behind. Kabal had also left the others behind, for he slept in the confines of his apartment. Sleep had not entertained Kabal for long, and he was soon busy at work drawing up plans to expand the capabilities of his plasma gauntlet. He had seen Thor uneasily patrolling the Fenris horizon while looking out a window, but he did not share his Lord's impatience for trouble. He knew that problems would arise, but he wanted to prepare, so that he could fight alongside the warriors of the Thorite movement. He knew that Sif was now with them, and that Scout would stand by them, but there were things that even his Lord was not aware of. Kabal had seen things in the past, and he was ready to do whatever he could to protect his plans. Now, he merely awaited the Scout to return so that they could once again travel to Alchemax, well, what was left of it anyway. There were resources there that could be salvaged for Fenris use. He knew that all the other megacorps would be fighting over the remains, and that Alchemax would most likely try and regain their lost terrain by starting over anew, but no one would want what he had in mind. He could easily find what he needed for his synthetic plasma-gauntlet among other items, and no one would miss them. However, there were some risks involved and he knew that the Scout would accompany him. He had no interests in running into Stark- Fujikawa's S.I.E.G.E. units or their Salvage Crews, who were working around the clock to clear out every level of Alchemax which had survived the destruction, claiming any technology that had endured their violent takeover. They also had sentries who guarded the remains, keeping away anyone who approached the remains, claiming they were "protecting" the public. Kabal had his own protection in the form of the Scout... wherever he was! The Lady Sif stood atop her penthouse balcony with a bored expression. She leaned over the rail, her chin resting softly on her hands as she looked over the land. She didn't know where Thor was, for he had left to patrol the Fenris' lands almost as soon as they had reappeared. She too had the lust for combat pumping through her heart, and it angered her that Thor wouldn't allow her to accompany him in his travels. Once she had overcome the intense fright that the site of Alchemax had instilled in her, she became drawn in by the power of combat. She wished that something exciting would happen again, something that would enable her to fight along Scout's side once again. She had found that most exhilarating indeed. However, no matter how bored the Lady Sif was she would have never asked for the trouble that was slowly making its way toward them. With no sight of the mighty Thor, the Lady Sif would be called upon to protect the Fenris from an old threat, powered by an ancient artifact that would enable him to seek his revenge. Bloodsword, the new Juggernaut, was on his way, vengeance filling his heart and driving him onward. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Uptown, Neuve York -- Ground Level at the Alchemax Ruins After a few days the destruction of Alchemax was no more a dream, as it had become a harsh reality. Thankfully, the fatality rates had been relatively low when the amount of damage and destruction involved was taken into account. However, those members of society who might desire to shift through the rubble to look for missing loved ones, or those who wanted to grab something to possess as a keep-sake, like the pieces of concrete from the Berlin Wall of the twencen, could not. Rescue squads were unable to maneuver into the rubble. It was all being taken care of, courtesy of Stark- Fujikawa. Their sentries stood along the outskirts of the destruction, "protecting" the public from the unknown dangers inside. However, many knew that this was a mere charade. Many suspected that these guards, wearing the S/F symbols upon their forearms, were actually keeping concerned citizens at bay so that Stark- Fujikawa's Salvage Crews could clear out any piece of technology that was still operational or repairable. The big prize... Alchemax's files... had been lost, though Stark- Fujikawa hoped to at least gain something from the remaining hardware. Any who suspected this would be correct, however no one could predict how hard reclaiming these resources would prove. Deep within the levels of Alchemax, the Salvage Crews had slowly cleared paths that could be journeyed. These pathways led through the maze of corridors that had difficult enough to navigate when one didn't have to worry about roof-falls or the stability of the floor beneath one's feet. These were just a few of the problems faced by Stark- Fujikawa's officers as they made their way into the depths of Alchemax. Unfortunately, the Main Computer had been destroyed, and the devastation of the explosion left the levels anonymous, with no way to distinguish one section from another. Not only that, but the unknown conditions of their surroundings meant that the Salvage Crews could not bring heavy machinery in tow with them. They had to forge ahead like spelunkers exploring unknown caves and mysterious labyrinths. It was in a section much like this that three Salvage Officers now found themselves. "Where the shock have we ended up now? I don't even know what path we took to get here. Do you? Man, it's starting to get cold down here... maybe we should turn back, huh? Where are we, Perrier," asked a young man encased in a bulky, green suit. He was wearing standard gear for such a mission. It was created for hostile environments out of a light weight metal that protected those wearing it from possible injuries while working in disaster areas, etc. Marks, the young man asking all the questions, has every reason to feel secure in his suit of armor. However, one should never feel too safe... "Shut the Hel up, Marks. How can I assess our position with you babbling," Perrier said as he punched in some calculations on an electronic device that had been mapping their descent into the pits of Alchemax's wastes. He shook the machine, reaching out to slightly tap it on a piece of twisted metal protruding from the wall. "Looks like we might have a problem," added Orasch as he calmly watched Perrier struggle with the small PowerAtlas. He continued fumbling with the machine as Marks walked over toward the door, reaching out with his gloved hand to whip away the grim collected on the closed door. His eyes widened, as did his smile, when he saw sector numbers gracing its surface. "Check this, Perrier. You can plug these numbers into the Atlas to see where we're at, can't ya," he asked. Perrier looked up with a slight moan, and replied, "Why couldn't you think of that before you had me freaking out about our locale, Marks? That's real sweet of ya." "No problem," he chuckled. "Plug these into your electronic compass there. The numbers on this door frame are RA6-NC14008. What does that mean?" He punched the numbers into the miniature computer and whistled a low note, a sign that he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "According to the Alchemax Floor Plans we WERE able to salvage from some of the tech, we're on Sub-Level 2... we're underneath Downtown." They all looked at each other and Pierre eyed the numbers closely before trying another calculation on his hand held atlas. They were just going to have to take the little gizmo's word for it because they had no way to receive confirmation. They did know they were deep, for they had lost communication with the Salvage Command due to all of the destruction. They just couldn't turn around and walk away. It was their job to check it out. "Well, come on, guys," Marks sighed. "As soon as we're finished with this one we can race back topside, what do you say?" "I say we skip the inspection and try making it back now," Orasch laughed. "Well, we could find another way to inspect it. Pierre, use your computer Atlas to tell us what was located this floor. If it's nothing of interest we'll leave." Pierre did as he was told, but only looked at them with a disappointed expression. He looked up from the screen, reading it as the text flowed across his suit's visor. "Apparently, this was a restricted area, because it doesn't give any specifics. It's registered as "Need To Know Basis Only. What should we do?" "Shock," Orasch spat. "I guess S/F needs to know, huh?" "No getting out of it this time!" The two positioned themselves in preparation for bringing the door open into the debris ridden corridor. Just as they were about to use all of their strength, and some of their reserve power from the suits, to power the door open it flew off of its hinges... throwing Orasch and Marks to the floor! They looked up just in time to see Pierre slowly stop pressing the buttons on his ridiculous little computer. In the wide door frame stood a tall form, but the force of the door's punishment had stirred a whirlwind of wreckage and it restricted the crew's eyes. Pierre began to slowly babble, his pointy chin dropped open as the PowerAtlas fell from his clammy grasp and hit the ground. Orasch shot forward to scoop up the Atlas, in hopes of alerting the Salvage Crew authorities, but all he received was a quick blow that not only stopped him from just reaching his goal... but, also severed his arm from the mid-forearm down. He looked down upon the bleeding stump, his terrified expression magnified in the fishbowl shape of his equipment's visor. The realization that he was missing half of his arm hadn't even settled in. His look of horror was the result of pure amazement... something had actually managed to slice THROUGH his specialized armor! The last thing he saw was the source of his suit's damage. He couldn't make out the exact nature of the person welding the weapon, for his eyes were fixed on his death sentence as it moved, as if in slow motion, toward his defenseless face. His eyes focused on the sharp ridges of the golden rake, which left tracers in the air as it swung in a sweeping arc. The glint of the tool, sparkling from the light projected by his helmet, was the last thing that flashed through his mind right before the rake crashed through the protective glass covering of the armor's headgear, ending the young man's life. He had been embraced by death. Pierre took only a moment to glance at the body of his fallen friend before turning to flee. A mighty arm caught him by one of the many tubes leading into his skullcap, which monitored his vital signs and brain waves. He was jerked back, slung into a wall. His head hit the surface with an amazing crack, and everything went black for just a moment. He prayed that it stayed that way. The figure leaned over him as he slowly opened his eyes. He couldn't believe what he saw. Three sharp prongs of a great length slowly caressed him under his chin. His helmet was apparently in a wreck as well. The first thing he noticed about the jagged claws were the way they seemed to flow into the backhand of his attacker, and the spectacular greenish hue that covered them. He swallowed hard when he felt the blood slightly trickle down the inside of the suit. However, his death is delayed as Marks leaps at their assailant, tackling their adversary. Though Marks may have offered Pierre a few more moments of life, he would pay for it with his own. A strong hand lashed out, stabbing through the high impact armor. Marks felt the prongs slide into his gut, but he wasn't dead yet. It was at this moment that he began to grow weak. It wasn't from the obvious loss of blood, and the blame could not be placed on shock either... the simple truth was... he was being sucked dry! Their foe was ciphering off his very life force. Marks could feel the nutrients that had once sustained him leave his body in an agonizing flood of invasion. He was finally taken by death, but not before his dying eyes could look upon the form of Pierre... in shock from the death of his mates and the ease at which they were murdered. He was next... and Stark-Fujikawa never notified their next of kin, or investigated their disappearances. They had plenty more crew members... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Downtown, New York -- Central Park Even from the height of the suite she shared with her lover, the mighty Thor, Lady Sif never saw the approach of perhaps the biggest threat the Fenris had ever faced. The Fenris had survived many trials and tribulations. First, they withstood the continuous religious persecution brought about by the infamous Aesir fiasco. Then, they had managed to endure the destruction brought about when Downtown was flooded by the Sub-Mariner, Roman, in order to teach surface dwellers a lesson. They were finally able to rejoice when the god of thunder returned to them again, but they were soon under the attack of the Vulture and his Freakers. Thor fended off the Freakers attack and the Fenris became the most powerful clique in Downtown. Now, they face a new threat... the coming of the Juggernaut!!! The thundering of his approach did not go unnoticed, however no one knew what it meant until it was too late. A group of Fenris were the first to witness the arrival of the Juggernaut as he crashed through their ranks, sweeping them to the ground with one powerful blow so that he could continue on to Thor's apartment complex unchallenged. No one recognized this giant of a man as their previous ruler... the infamous Bloodsword! He knew exactly where Thor's quarters were, for they used to be his very own!! He slowed only when reaching the large marble steps leading up to the front doors of the huge building overlooking Central Park. In front of the building stood Kabal, who despite his obvious inability to hamper the behemoth's progress appeared ready for combat. His modified plasma gauntlet was charged and ready to blast the newcomer into cinder. "Go no further, monster," Kabal cried. His long braid of hair whipped about as he kneeled, aiming his cannon directly at the huge man standing before him. Kabal had never seen a man of such size and that truly meant something considering he was the right hand man of the Lord of Lightning!!! The man placed his large hands on his hips and threw his head back, letting out a hearty laugh. "Always ready to stand fast, eh, Kabal? Admit that you tremble before me, coward!" "I admit no such thing, fool, for I have sworn allegiance to the lord Thor, and his might shall always make me strong. Remember that on your way to Hel!" With that said Kabal blasted his foe with a stream of fiery plasma. When the blast subsided Kabal found himself shocked to see the man still standing before him with not a scratch. "I know not what manner of beast you are, but you will not pass by me to the Lady Sif while I am still living." "Then I shall smite you down in the name of Odin. He hast given me great power, Kabal. Forget the heretic Thor and side with me so that we might reveal him as the liar he is!" "You speak of Thor with a forked tongue, beast. You truly want to die. Let me help you achieve your desire!" Kabal rushed the human juggernaut before him, side stepping just as his foe lashed out with a powerful backhand, leaving his midsection unprotected. Kabal unloaded all of the plasma stored in his wrist gauntlet into his enemy. The force from the blow knocked Kabal back off of his feet and he crashed hard into the ground. He looked up to see the villain rushing him unharmed. He barely managed to roll out of the way as his adversary crashed through a pillar. He turned and shook off the mortar covering his shoulders. Once again he was unfazed. Then, their attention shifted from one another as a crash brought chunks of asphalt raining upon them. Kabal looked over to see the source of the miniature crater and sighed. Things were looking considerably worse without their leader in site. The Lady Sif had leapt from her balcony to join the battle that was literally taking place on her doorstep. "Well, who do we have here," the giant laughed. His reply was a fast and furious right handed blow from the good Lady. Though the punch was incredibly strong, he did not feel any pain and he did not budge. Sif looked at her fist and was amazed to find that striking the behemoth actually hurt HER! In her shock she caught a backhand to the face, knocking her violently to the ground. Her hand immediately went to her wounded face where her eye was already beginning to swell. This monster was even more than he appeared, she thought. She struggled to regain her footing and barely saw the oncoming attack from the rampaging mammoth out of the corner of her injured eye. The man formerly known as Bloodsword had both hands raised above his hand and was about to bring them crashing down upon the fallen Lady when she was miraculously saved at the last minute as a flash of red and blue tackled her out of harm's way. She looked up and expected her savior to be none other than her beloved. She was wrong. "Scout," she cried! "Sorry, Milady. I had an appointment with Kabal and I'm somewhat late... it appears that I wasn't a moment too soon!" The pair turned to see their foe and were amazed by his sheer size. He stood close, or perhaps a little over, seven feet tall and his shoulders were so broad that they made at least two of Scout. His hands could easily palm his foes' heads, crushing them with his superior strength! He sneered at them as if they were inferior, and sadly enough... perhaps they were. "Who are you," Sif snapped angrily. "I am Odin's Chosen. I have been granted the power to expose your Thor as the fake he is! I am the embodiment of Asgard on Earth... the power of the gods personified! Kneel before your new leader. I am Odin's Juggernaut!!!" Well, you've seen it here! The debut of the 2099 UG's newest villain -- Juggernaut 2099 UG!!! Now that Bloodsword has the ability to smash the Fenris beneath his might and power who will stand before him? Who will stand WITH him? The answer may surprise you! Be back here soon... for the first round of the mighty Thor 2099 UG vs Juggernaut 2099 UG!!! |