Marc Spector peered out across the city of New York. Behind him, the being known simply as Recorder hummed about, checking off various observances. Damn the Fist. Spector was condemned to this life for now, for ever.

*Pay attention my charge. Keep your fear of me, your hatred of me, in the front of your mind at all times*

At that, Marc Spector, the man called Moon Knight, collapsed to the ground, gripping his head, wailing like a newborn.

Recorder did what he was made to do. He recorded.

She watched the mass of flesh pulsate before and realized what she had done. She had killed a mortal. Again.

The Sorceress Supreme shoved her claw-like fingernails into the young woman's chest and ripped her heart out. It dangled before her eyes, still beating. At her feet, the young blue-eyed, blonde-haired twenty year old ceased to exist.

It was times like this that the woman called Salome truly relished the fact that Stephen Strange was dead. True, she had marred herself and the title of Sorcerer Supreme with her recent actions but she didn't truly pay this fact any mind.

She loved it. She loved the death. She loved revelling in the wealth of pestilence. She loved the putrid beauty of it all. She loved the feel of this child's heart thumping in her fist.

"Be at peace child," she whispered, shooting a glance at the limp form before her. "You have not died in vain."

And with that, she shoved the still beating heart into a pouch hanging on her hip and walked away, already making preparations.

Steve Rogers watched his youngest daughter Raquel running across the backyard. He smiled. Ahh...domestic bliss.

"Daydreaming again?" And there she stood. Her. The woman he called "wife."

"As always." He embraced her, drowining in the scent of her perfume.

Her pink hair was long gone...had been for years. Now, the light brownness of her coif shimmered in the hot July sun. Rachel peered over her husband's massive shoulder at their daughter who looked back with a swift smile from the swing set.

She withdrew from their embrace, keeping her eye on Raquel. "Go push her, Steve," she whispered and walked back into the living room, sitting down at the computer, looking at the blank screen before her. She was just preparing to write an introduction to her husband's new book "Patriot" when the phone rang. Damnit, as soon as inspiration strikes...whoever is on the other end of this phone is gonna pay when I...

"Rogers residence."

"Yes, I know. Rachel...we need your help."

"Excuse me? Who...who is this?"

Staggered breaths on the other end of the phone. "Hello? Hello?!" She was afraid the connection had been lost when silence suddenly came.

Then, the voice.

"...obra...craz.........................hel................help........pl e...ase...............Coa....ip..............D............Diamon........ack. ............................................."

And the woman's voice was gone.

"Coachwhip." Rachel put the phone back in the cradle and darted to her bedroom closet. There, in the farthest corner, was her costume. Purple and black.

Outside, she could hear Steve and Raquel still playing. In her mind, she could hear domesticity coming to an end.

Gamora's eyes hurt like hell. More likely than not this was due to the sudden explosion of this system's sun. Now her ears were killing her. Her Cosmic Awareness was kicking in and she could hear the mind-shattering screams of the billions of Wohuisttens's - a race of beings recently discovered by Mar-Vell - who were dying on the planet's below as their life force was sucked from their very bodies.

The Cosmics all felt the jerk of pain (or was that the jerk of their ship) as they quickly shunted out of the Wohuistt Solar System. Now, Gamora's eyes stung...with tears?

"That was not an experience I wish to relive anytime soon." Pamela Douglas, aka Sundragon. She had caused the explosion. Gamora hated her. And her sister too for that matter. Two of the stingiest, cold hearted bitches she had ever met in her travels.

Behind her, Gamora could hear Quasar, Epoch and Eon all conversing in some secret language.

Then, Adam's arms wrapped themselves around her and she shuddered briefly before realizing it was him and then she was at peace as they, along with Genis, Carol, Monica, Eros, Heather and Mar-Vell himself, watched their quickening approach of the planet below them.

Earth.

Uatu watched the Cosmics massive ship hovering over Antarctica. The Inhumans. They were meeting with the Inhumans. A dying civilization, thanks largely in part to Uatu himself.

He turned away in anger in disgust and walked into his massive base of operations. He could see Mantis and Centurion on the gigantic screen, laying traps for the Cosmics landing. He hoped. For the first time in a long time, he actually hoped. Not for their safety and not for the safety of the Cosmics or the Inhumans. No. He hoped for his two pathetic cohorts to finally succeed in something.

Destroying the superhumans.

Ahura had been waiting for their landing. He knew Genis would be onboard. And he knew what Genis had done.

Beside him she stood. His cousin. The whore.

He knew her to be nothing else. Her cavorting about with Genis had been the last straw.

And despite the fact that she deserved to die, he knew he couldn't do it. Yet. He needed her.

His parents, Blackagar and Medusalith, hovered behind him. Impending. They would die too if he could have his way. In fact, as far as Ahura was concerned the entire Inhuman race could burn along with their damned King Agon.

Agon's genes indeed.

They sat. They waited.

Ant-Man and Yellowjacket were keeping an eye on the Cosmics landing. Quicksilver and Crystal kept an eye on the Inhumans. She-Hulk and the Hulk were keeping their eyes peeled for the Duo. Gilgamesh, Thora, Iron Maiden and Darkhawk hovered above them, waiting for the signal.

If death was going to happen in Antarctica today, the Avengers wanted to be sure it wasn't theirs.

They could smell them before their hovercraft even landed. Logan inhaled deep. Banner. Banner was here. Good. It was time for another rematch, especially since the green bastard had ripped Logan's left eye out. There was one thing his healing factor couldn't repair.

Creed too sniffed. Quicksilver and Crystal. The woman Creed loved to hate and her foolhardy husband. Creed too had revenge on his mind. His humanity had been destroyed because of their damned family.

And jointly, the two most vicious creatures the Avengers had battled in recent years, sniffed out the rest of the team.

Easy targets, especially when their fellow Marauders joined them for playtime.

They kissed briefly before jumping into the foray.

Nightcrawler quickly teleported away from Puff Adder's punch. Ach, I would have been dust!

Shadowcat phased away from King Cobra's wave of venom. Christ, he spits now?!?!

Their thoughts were their own and they fought silently. They were only in Germany to visit his mother and they ended up fighting the two toughest Serpents at large.

And Raven. Poor Raven. She was lying behind Kitty. Gotta make sure his venom doesn't hit her...whoah...too close for comfort. In a last ditch attempt, Kitty took the next lag in her own battle to grab her mother-in-law. She then phased, causing them both to become intangible. And they drifted, and drifted, and drifted. Finally they landed in the cavern below Raven's home.

The assassination attempt was a bust in the case of Raven but what about Kurt? She knew he was upstairs and he wouldn't last for long by himself and without any weapons.

So, Katherine Wagner ran into a hidden storage room and picked out four of the shapeshifter's deadliest guns. Two for Kurt, two for her.

It was showtime.

Professor Charles Francis Xavier had known what he was doing when he hired King Cobra to kill Raven Darkholme. However, the Wagner's were just two more pieces of wood to add to the shapeshifer's funeral pyre. Three birds with one stone.

He hadn't counted on Puff Adder tagging along with King Cobra or on Coachwhip interfering but she was dead - or close to it - and Puff Adder was powerful. A few more dollars wouldn't put him into bankruptcy. And besides, even if they did, it would be worth it just to have those three dead.

He also hadn't counted on the silent Penance to watch his every plan and memorize everything he had done. He hadn't planned on her or any of his X-Men knowing what he was up to.

That idea quickly dirfted out of his powerful mind as the youngest X-Man wrapped one diamond sharp arm around her teacher's neck and whispered her first word in years.

"Death?"

"Go to hell!!!!" Greer Nelson leapt at Rick Jones, unsheathing her claws. As the two Avengers rolled across the office, Jones could feel her nails digging into his back and his scream of pain joined with her cries of retribution.

This was the last time he would put the moves on her.

"Get offa me you crazy bit..." Crack!

His jaw was broken before he could finish. Blood spurted from his mouth and he could feel his loosened teeth just barely remaining attached to his gums. "She may be crazy but you're the little bitch, Jones."

"Bakew...yoo bathtud...Aw futtin' kih yoo!!"

But Jones wasn't killing anyone today because he knew was outnumbered.

If he was lucky, Tigra, Sandman and D-Man may leave him with some unbroken bones.

Stephen Strange watched as Emma Frost collapsed. In seconds, Immortus was upon her, tearing at her clothing, stripping her of what little dignity she had left.

It took Stephen Strange but a thought to lift the Lord of Limbo from his ally's body and throw him against a wall. He used every bit of energy he had left in doing this but it had worked and Immortus merely cursed them both and disappeared.

Too easy. Way too easy.

But Stephen couldn't worry with that now. He removed his cape and wrapped it around Emma's shivering body and embraced her. "This must end," was all he said at first. But then he thought for a second. "This will end."

Love. Hate. The Collector. All comatose.

She, Captain Universe was their controller.

She presented herself to their limp, humane forms. "How do you like them apples?"