TENSEN 2099	Writer/Artist/Editor: Gary M. Miller  |  Creator: Peter David  Editor-in-Chief: Michael Shirley  |  AEIC: Chris Lough
July, 2001 #12

Click the pictures to see character profiles!

John Tensen	Xina Kwan	Meanstreak	Stephen Hazzard	Lightmask	Nightmask
Reed Richards	Thanatos	The Collection Agency			Tzzar

Shortly after returning to his home and finding it had been twisted into a dictatorship by the evil Reed Richards, John Tensen was confronted in a dream by an old friend -- Keith Remsen, the man known in his time as Nightmask. Later, Tensen learned that Keith's Nightmask persona had gone psychotic, in an episode culminating in Tensen's own demise. Not long after, in Washington D.C., Keith's sister Theodora disappeared into thin air -- as a result of the event?

Now, John Tensen has come back from a brief afterlife experience, resurrected by his now-eighty-year-old daughter Angela, a paranormal with the ability to bring the dead back to life. He has been invited to make his home at Coney Island, site of the once-famous amusement park, now home to hundreds of paranormals including many of his descendants, all suffering from Pasko's Disease -- a genetic disorder hereditary among the children of first and second-generation paranormals. Watching over him is the paranormal ghost called the Witness, who has just related the story of the fifty years during which Tensen was gone from the Earth -- years during which Richards built his armies into a globe-spanning force which made him Emperor -- and made ordinary human beings subservient to the needs of those with special abilities.

Meanwhile, the Emperor, Richards, has been summoned to Mount Pittsburgh by scientists investigating an underground disturbance which is very likely to adversely affect the Earth itself. And Stephen Mark Hazzard, human resistance fighter, is coming dangerously close to invading the Baxter Building, Richards' imperial palace. If that weren't enough, Tensen and his band of refugee D.P.'s have agreed that war is the only way to clean up the current regime...

And that's where we pick up in "The Brink of Armageddon!"

Coney Island, 2049:

Upon developing his parabilities he was caught off-guard by the evil Daedalus Darquill, forced under his influence. He'd fought back with help, but ever since then he'd learned how to meditate just so, legs crossed, arms at his sides, the palms of his hands facing up, thumb and forefinger touching. It was in this way he mentally prepared himself, relaxing so that he could keep control of that other side of his nature -- that part which still believed it was a Justice Warrior, as manipulated by Darquill.

Somehow Tensen had sensed that part missing in the last few hours -- as surely the shocks which were told him would have sent him into a blind rage, retreating into that other persona -- and yet nothing had happened. Searching deep within his consciousness, Tensen now conformed that the presence of the "Justice Warrior" was indeed gone, flushed from his brain. It was in his past -- and not a moment too soon.

He had yet to figure out what had happened to his body since he had "died." The memories of what had happened beyond the veil were slowly returning, even now, but would take a long time to be fully restored. All that mattered now was that in his mind he was focused so that he might lead the people in this base and around the globe to rebellion against Reed Richards and his legions of evil or misguided paranormals.

And yet, who was Richards, really? Tensen indeed thought he knew, for upon his travels to the world of Marvels in 2099 he'd encountered the Fantastic Four -- the group to which Reed belonged as the superhuman Mister Fantastic, able to contort his body, making it like rubber in flexibility and malleability. This Richards showed every bit of the other's scientific knowhow and intelligence, yet had a tremendous aura of evil about him. He never once used the superpowers Tensen had seen him demonstrate in 2099, and that made him wonder if this man even was who he purported to be. Did he have any special powers at all? If he wasn't Richards, what sort of madman would disguise himself as a comicbook hero and wage war as he had? (Flashback courtesy of TENSEN 2099UG #0 --GMM)

And then, there was the matter of the purple-and-white cloth that was lain about the ground just a few feet from Tensen. One of the young, teenaged girls at this safe haven had prepared the new clothes for him, through wondrous use of her own special parabilities, to replace the torn and withered ones he now wore. She was called the Spider-Weaver, and indeed, just as the name implied, her cancers made her arachnoid in appearance as well as in ability. She seemed almost wraithlike, fearsome in countenance, and yet, like all the others here, there was a great degree of gentleness about her. When she presented him with the fabric, moments after he agreed to assist them in defeating Richards, he had at first balked. No one could expect him to wear any sort of costume again -- not even that particular costume, and certainly not by the order of those with whom his own daughter affiliated. And yet, Tensen's mind kept on drifting back to the death-dream, where he saw the flash of stark-white lightning amid a dark purple sky...

The silence of thought was shattered with the sliding aside of a tent flap.

"Tad, don't go in there!" he heard an older voice say. "You don't know what he's capable of! He was talking to open air earlier--!"

"Relax, Uncle Ricky! I gotta show him--!"

"Show me what?" Tensen asked the young boy, waking from his trancelike state, actually having never been asleep at all. His red eyes glowed in the darkness before he covered the right one so that he might see clearly.

"S-show you what I f-found about th' Emper'," the boy replied.

Tensen thought for a moment. "You mean the Emperor? Reed Richards?" The boy nodded. He rose on one knee, then gestured for the boy to step aside. Rising up, he walked out of the tent and looked down at the boy, who couldn't be older than ten, perhaps eleven. He was clutching something that looked like a magazine in his young, sweaty hands.

"Don't be pesterin' him, boy," the older man said as Tensen looked onward. "He needn't be listenin' to one of your stories from your old man's funny book collection."

"Funny book--?" Tensen queried.

"They been outlawed don'tcha know," the man said. "Boy has no right t'be readin' contraband like that."

"Unless," Tensen said, "Richards wouldn't make something illegal ... unless it just might prove his undoing."

"Whatever d'ye mean?" the man asked Tensen, who at once knelt down in front of the youth.

"Can I see what you've got there, lad?" Tensen asked, gesturing slowly for Tad to release his grip on the books which were encased in some plastic material.

"Promise not to fold 'em or hurt 'em? They're worth lots," Tad asked.

"I promise," replied Tensen as the boy outstretched his arm to show him the books. Indeed they were magazines -- comicbooks, actually. And the image and words upon the topmost book sent chills down Tensen's spine. It had been years since he'd last seen one of these books, much less read one, and yet the childhood memories remained, memories of tossing many cardboard cartons full of books like this one into the burning barrel out back of his parents' suburban home.

This book was different from any one of them, however. It, as well as the ones beneath it, seemed to shed new light on the occurrences which had happened over the last fifty years on this planet. The book's title was, sure enough, FANTASTIC FOUR (#179, for you continuity buffs out there --GMM). However, the picture on the cover showed the Thing, whom Tensen had remembered meeting, fighting an android called the Metalloid while the image of the team's leader, Mister Fantastic, hovered, seemingly menacingly above the conflict. The caption below the book's title read: "The Fabulous F.F. At The Mercy Of The Deadliest Super-Villain Of All -- REED RICHARDS!"

Indeed, Tensen saw. Leafing through the other comics, he saw more -- in fact several more issues of FANTASTIC FOUR, some of which had a bizarre purple creature featured prominently on the cover. There was something to this -- something that Tensen was sure would explain why there was a man calling himself Reed Richards who had insinuated himself into this world so conveniently.

He began flipping through the pages of the book, which was still in phenomenally good shape for one that was seventy-two years old. There he saw a sequence in which one strange being threw Reed Richards into a portal of some sort, then later in the story another Reed appeared, looking angrier, on-edge. The fire that burned in the eyes of the printed page's Reed Richards matched that of the flesh-and-blood Emperor.

"I need to ... take a closer look at these, son," Tensen said to the boy. "Mind if I get these back to you in a few hours, perhaps?"

"Only if ya promise..."

"I promise, I won't damage them in any way, lad." Tensen smiled.

"I got special bags for 'em, if you need 'em, Mister Tensen! Thick plastic ones--"

"I appreciate the thought, son ... but really, it won't take all that long."

And with that, Tensen disappeared back into the tent.

Some moments later, Tensen emerged from within the tent, feeling refreshed, renewed -- and now certain that he had the information required to bring Emperor Richards' world crashing down. The comics had proven to be fascinating reading, the stories now making sense in the current light of things -- if the information contained within them could be proven true.

His resolve was firm as he strode out to where the rest of the paranormals lay in waiting. And as he walked, he felt a new sense of regality which should not, would not have felt right not twenty-four hours before. His new long coat flapped in the ash-laden breeze which came from the darkness. Street lamps flickered on and off again from the psychic power being put forth here. And then the group turned to behold him.

To everyone present the coat was a welcome sign, a symbol of how Tensen had always looked, a hallmark from his days with the Justice Department -- and now the rest of the gear matched the personality of the man remade with the same vigor as he'd displayed years ago, the same vitality which he'd regained during the time his memories had been lost: he wore leather cowboy boots he'd found in the stashes of clothing on the Island; dark blue jeans from the same source, with a black belt and silver buckle; and beneath his coat, the bottom tucked into his pants, was a shirt upon which was emblazoned the old, familiar, purple-and-silver lightning-bolt insignia he had worn after breaking free of Darquill's influence -- the symbol which adorned it being a visual representation of Sir Thomas Randolph's famous maxim:

"Justice, like lightning, ever shall appear, to some men ruin, to all men fear."

Taking center stage, his silver hair slightly flapping, his new black patch covering his right eye, Tensen addressed the others before the campfire.

"It ends tonight," he said. "There've been fifty years of building up, now it's high time we did some tearing down, before anything else can happen. But first I think it's time I have some more questions answered here. Namely, who's the head of the resistance? Is there one for humans, and one for paranormals?"

"There's only one resistance," Jono said. "Paranormals and normals have joined it. Nobody really knows who the leader is, that's why it's stayed around so long. Nobody here even knows who, or where they operate from."

"There're many theories," Sintilla said, "but nothing major has come up about it. Unseen but all-knowing, somehow the leader of the resistance gets in touch with everyone, whether it's inside the facilities or outside."

Angela spoke up. "Some think it's a paranormal, someone on the inside. Anyone who can reach the kind of crowd the leader's doing has to have an amazing pull."

"If it's even someone whose intentions are honorable," Tensen concluded. "What if the person you're all taking orders from, the resistance leader, is Richards himself? I don't think he's above creating his own resistance. Then again there's -- the -- Nightmask?"

"At your service," said a being who fell down from the shadows above suddenly. The being -- definitely feminine in form -- wore the costume of the same madman who had killed Tensen only hours before, only -- only the costume was now white, not black. This being seemed to be a female version of Nightmask.

"I don't mean any harm, guys. Seriously I don't," she said, her tone calm and collected.

"Who are you?" Tensen asked, looking her over with both eyes. "You've got reality-altering powers now ... did you come to finish the job you did on me earlier? Or do you have something else up your sleeve?" He stopped, now recognizing the voice, however altered by age it was: "Theodora?"

"Yes ... and no," Nightmask answered, speaking with the same even voice, with perhaps more authority than Tensen had expected from her. "It's me, it's Keith. I can explain everything later ... I have to admit I'm taking a big gamble by coming here."

Tensen grimaced. "Your murderous sibling sent me flying off the Recantation Facility roof. I don't want to hear anything you have to say. You can go straight to--"

"Listen, I know what's going on with the Nightmask ... and you've got to trust me, the last time you and I met was in your dreams ... before you woke up and found out Richards was Emperor(See TENSEN 2099UG #5 if you don't believe him! --GMM). Do you understand?"

Amazed, Tensen responded: "I think so. Tell me first, Keith ... if you're talking, what's going on with Theodora?"

"I was afraid you'd ask," Keith said. "All right, she's safe, in the dreamscape. When I came to her, I disembodied her consciousness. She'll be back as soon as I relay my message to you."

"Why can't you just speak to us through her, have her still in control of herself?"

"Because she's not prepared for what I have to say. There's too much going on with the Nightmask right now, and having to talk to her and have her tell you, well ... I don't really think she'd be able to handle it. It's ... powerful stuff."

"How powerful? And I assume you're using the Nightmask power to make your sister walk?"

"You're right. At first I wasn't sure this trick would work, but I remembered decades ago that Teddy once donned the Nightmask in a dream, right alongside me ... and that got me thinking she didn't just have the dream-anchor power but also the exact same paranormal ability as me. It's just a shame we had to wait so long to find out for sure ... and then, to find out I can also use the reality-altering aspect of the 'Mask...!" (Check NIGHTMASK #6! --Believe-it-or-not-GMM)

Tensen eyed him/her curiously. "Then if you can tell us, if you can shed light on the resistance, on what you know, don't hesitate. We've got to unite with its leader -- if that leader isn't just another extension of the government."

"I can tell you the full story. I gather from seeing him hover in the background that you've heard the Witness' version of events from the time you left until now?"

He nodded. (In our last issue! --GMM)

"Indeed, then, it seems you should know that I am the so-called resistance leader. In fact, the Witness has been offering me assistance any time I need it. We're sort of equal partners. I met him after it all went to hell for paranormals and normals alike.

"During your own encounter with Richards and the other beings, I too was fighting that battle in New York. I was on a trip to a convention for practicing psychiatrists on the behalf of Dr. Lucien Ballad when it happened. When you disappeared in the portal, I continued to fight against the remaining three. Their otherworldly energies bonded with me -- varying forms of deadly radiation were forced into me by the Tzzar and by Annihilus. I retreated.

"Right after Richards seized ultimate control there was a massive uprising by the humans who hadn't already been subjugated. They all went after any paranormals they could find, with the intent to kill. They hoped they could stir up enough trouble so that Richards would have no choice but to surrender -- that the uprisings would reach the camps, gathering momentum, becoming a force to be reckoned with. That's where I came in.

"I was in my Nightmask identity, scouting D.C. for signs of trouble, hoping that since I'd been granted the ability to transform into Nightmask in reality (see D.P.7 #25, JUSTICE #25 and the STARBLAST miniseries for details) I could help others in this time of crisis. Of late I'd been feeling under the weather, emotionally, especially in the 'Mask. I was feeling ... disconnected. I didn't realize what was happening to me, and how it was related to my exposure to the radiation in New York, until it was too late.

"One day I was at the Ballad Institute in D.C. when the rebellious normal humans broke inside, murder in their eyes. They knew -- probably from my days in the military -- that I was paranormal. I was helpless as they started beating on me, crushing my bones. And so I forced myself to concentrate just enough so that I could leave -- so that I could be Nightmask, that I wouldn't suffer any pain. With any luck, they'd beat my body to the point of death, and I'd slowly fade away after a time. But that just wasn't to be.

"I don't remember how long it was, but later I realized that my body couldn't have been dead, as I was still Nightmask, still floating above the world without a care. I decided to go back, to check on my body, to find out what had happened -- whether I was in a hospital, or somewhere else. And that's when I found out the true repercussions of the radiation exposure.

"Back at the Ballad Clinic when I arrived was my body -- still broken, but somehow still possessing a mind of its own! 'You're here,' I said, 'but who are you?'

"'Why, isn't that obvious?' he said in return. 'I'm that part of you you always ignored. That which you suppressed, except during that nasty little thing they call the Black Event.'

"He, quite simply, was me -- evidently the radiation deepened the personality split that happened as a result of the Pittsburgh disaster in 1987 (As shown in detail, in THE STAR BRAND #17. --Footnote-a-minute-GMM). While I was away as Nightmask, the darker side of me stayed inside my body, slowly learning to take control, until finally it did, right there and then. And I didn't realize until it was too late that it was learning to use the powers of the Nightmask in reality, and much better than I myself had previously done. The dark personality was more suited to manipulating the Nightmask.

"He explained this to me, and then offered me a choice: 'Go away, leave me in control of this pitiful thing you call a body -- or I'll rid you of it for good.' After he issued the warning, I was more convinced than ever of the evil he had inside him -- and so I tried the only course of action I knew how. I tried reuniting myself with my body, in the hopes that I could flush the dark Nightmask out, or bring it under my control once more. I was met with failure. Not only did this evil Nightmask expunge me from his body a second time, but he also took away the majority of the powers I'd had while using the parability myself. He reduced me to a wraith. I was out of touch with the world, disjointed from it, for a long time afterward, unable to make contact with anyone or anything. I died, in a way. Like Nelson, the Witness, I was without form, without access to the world at large, it was as though I didn't exist anymore.

"Some time later, Nelson -- the Witness -- came in contact with me. It was a miracle that we could see one another, talk to one another. He said he didn't feel so lonely anymore. I picked myself up out of my depression thanks to him, and we assessed the problems which faced us then -- the new Richards regime. We alone were two people who had transcended it -- we literally lived above it, could not to our knowledge be fazed by anything the new government threw at the common people. We alone had to do something ... and that something began when I realized the lone parability the Dark Nightmask had left me.

"Through a great deal of concentration, I could merge with a human being, become one with their subconscious mind. I could use my power, like the Witness could in his possession of other paranormals, to plant ideas of revolution in the minds of the subjugated humans. Together we could spread ideas, for meetings, for uprisings, for everything that could give the enslaved normal people a fighting chance -- a chance to be free of Richards, of his ideas -- to overthrow him so that the world which came before be arrived would be restored.

"So that's what we did. I alone entered the subconscious minds of the people, and it was in doing so that I chanced my greatest folly -- I wondered whether the people's instinct toward revolution, towards freedom would override their hatred for one lone paranormal, myself -- were I to make myself known to them. If they knew it was I who was subtly manipulating their minds toward the freedom they so desperately craved, would they still feel the same? Or would they raise their defenses, shutting me out altogether? I ultimately reasoned that nothing was worth that much risk ... and so I became known as the most secret of all resistance leaders. Me, Keith Remsen, leader who could never show his face, could never let it be known that it was a paranormal -- someone who on the surface was automatically categorized as one of the enslavers -- who would be their savior."

"Why couldn't you let your sister know about this?" Angela asked, sinking low into her chair.

Her father also spoke: "And what power does this other Nightmask -- the one that has your own body -- possess?"

"My sister, as most other people are, is unaware that a wild card exists high in the Richards government. That wild card, as you've guessed, is the other Nightmask -- is that which possessed my body. He has true reality-shaping powers which he uses sparingly -- but uses very well. I know my sister has had dreams about the evil Nightmask -- and I'd prefer she still think of them as dreams, and not know the horrifying truth. And I'd also prefer she not learn that the reason why she has barely aged in sixty years is because the dream-energy the Nightmask leeches off its victims to keep itself young and vital trickles down to her. It gives her the extra powers to use, renews her life force."

Tensen looked at Angela, then back at Nightmask: "So what do you want with us, here, now?"

"I know you're in this for the duration, Tensen. I've been watching you. I've been in your mind, and know your determination. It's nearly equal to my own. What I want is to go give Richards hell -- bring him down once and for all. I want to go across the river -- to the city -- and bring him to ... justice."

Tensen's hands oozed emerald energy. "Ordinary justice will not do."

"It'll have to," Keith replied. He walked to the center of the group. "I want you all to have your forces ready. In ten minutes I'll use my powers to transport you all to the center of Richards' sanctuary, where the real war will begin."

Ten minutes later, Keith/Theodora was at the center of the circle of people as he began to concentrate, letting the dream energy he harnessed radiate outward. He felt it in the air, portending destiny -- the end of this new world. But would the result of their actions be the rebirth of the old world -- or the birth of yet another new world order? Time would tell.

Green smoke danced around the group, wafting all around as the moment drew closer. Keith had to home in on the only other piece of dreamrealm energy which was inside the Baxter Building -- he had to home in on the evil version of himself, on Nightmask. And then he had to pray that the Nightmask couldn't detect his actions until the last possible second, so it couldn't block him -- block them -- totally. It was a shot in the dark, a gamble, which had to pay off. It had to!

The reality-bending energy continued to radiate outward, and now Keith realized what, precisely, he was doing. The reality-altering power came not as much from Teddy as from the other part of himself -- from Nightmask! He was drawing the necessary power from that persona whom he wanted to regain control of. But what did that mean, now that he knew whence he drew the energy for the teleportation? What would that mean for all who stood here?

Nightmask stood upon a parapet made of concrete and sophisticated metallic designs on the Baxter Building. He stared downward at the city which Richards had made perfect as he could, and up at the dome which encased them all. And then he laughed as he felt the tugging of another force similar to his.

No, not another force similar to his own -- it was that exact same force, trying to ... get away from him? How could this be? Unless...

Remsen hadn't died those many years ago, had he? That was the explanation for the changes in his physical form mere hours ago, wasn't it? The sudden weakening in Richards' chambers? The feeling that he was helpless, vulnerable, for all of one minute and twenty seconds? That he knew. What was Remsen doing to him now? And moreover, who was helping him do it?

As he shifted his hand to his chin, Nightmask was caught unawares by a strong grip from below.

"Die, demon!" cried Stephen Mark Hazzard, clinging to the side of the building by suction devices, holding a semiautomatic rifle in his free hand and pointing it at Nightmask's nose.

Nightmask did nothing but stare at Hazzard for half a minute. Then he began giggling. "You think you can stop me, little man? Do you have any idea who I am and what I can do to you?" He lifted Hazzard from the side of the building by the hand which had clung to his foot, and raised him so that he was eye-to-eye with him.

"I don't care," Hazzard said. "I killed the guards at the base of the building. And now I'm climbing up here instead of going up flight after flight of stairs inside -- not that I couldn't handle the guards in there as well, mind you -- for one purpose. You're going down. And then I'm going to go on climbing and once I get up to the penthouse I'll blow Richards' brains all over the interiors. You can't stop me. I'm here for honor, and I'm here to restore the United States of America."

Again Nightmask laughed. "I honestly don't see the point," he said, and then another sharp pain -- not unlike the ones which ran through him hours ago -- lanced through his body. He winced in pain, sputtering, shaking, quivering, quaking -- slowly sliding free of the parapet on which he sat.

Damn Remsen.

"Y-you're n-n-not going t-t-to do n-nothin'," Nightmask stuttered, wavering again, weight shifting now toward the air in front of him -- toward several thousand cubic feet of open air.

Hazzard shifted his rifle into position over Nightmask's heart. "Oh really?" he asked.

Another sharp pain sliced through Nightmask. Then he fell down, down toward the streets below, and Hazzard was falling with him.

Then, in an implosion of green smoke, they were both gone.

At the center of the circle, as Keith continued to concentrate, suddenly an explosion of green marked the arrival of not one, but two beings -- rather than the departure of tens of paranormal rebels.

"Did somebody get the number of that Sherman Tank?" the dark-costumed one asked, holding his head with his hands. Keith recognized him immediately -- the Nightmask -- in the body that he had stolen from him. He began to lunge toward his darker half when--

"Anyone who touches this Nightmask, dies! That includes you, lady. I don't know how you got to have that white 'Mask suit, but--!" Stephen Mark Hazzard held his gun firmly in the "light" Nightmask's direction, eyes catching a glint off the metal of the barrel. He cocked the gun once before resuming his aim.

"Who are you?" Tensen asked of Hazzard, now letting his hands glow bright green with paranormal energy.

"Stephen Mark Hazzard, soldier of fortune, anti-paranormal resistance fighter. I reckon this isn't the outside of the Baxter Building anymore. You paranormals? Or resistance?"

"Both," admitted Tensen. He turned then to the "light" Nightmask. "Keith ... how did this happen? What did you do?"

"I must've pulled too hard on the Nightmask's dream energy. The feedback loop must've brought Nightmask to us, instead of us to the Baxter Building. And probably because this Hazzard person was in close proximity to him, he was brought along for the ride, as it were."

Tensen looked quizzically at Hazzard. "Hazzard? You wouldn't have known a Mark E. Hazzard, would you? He was a mercenary, died in 1987."

"My great-grandfather," Hazzard said. "Not that it's any of your business. Mind me askin' just who the hell you are, glowhand?" He took a cigar from his front jacket pocket and lit it with an antique Bic lighter. After taking a few puffs, he waited for a reply, blowing smoke rings in the air.

"John Roger Tensen. I used to work alongside Mark."

Hazzard's eyes widened. "How's that? He died about sixty years ago."

"I'm older than I look. Truth of the matter is, when I was in the Justice Department of the U.S.A. as a Narcotics cop, my wife was murdered. Now I breached protocol, brought in your great-grandfather, Mark, who had been on the trail of the same man who murdered her, to help me. We caught the son of a bitch, brought him to justice. And then we never spoke to one another ever again. So I guess yeah, I did know Mark Hazzard. A hell of a man, him. (A tale for another time that hasn't been recounted anywhere else. --Untold-Tale-GMM)

"Now, about you: you say you head up human resistance to the paranormals?"

"That's right," Hazzard said, spitting on the ground. He lowered his gun away from the group. "You ain't answered me: you paranormals here?"

"We are," said Keith in his identity as "Lightmask," "But we're as much opposed to the tyrannical rule of Reed Richards as you are. He cast the people on this island out years ago, calling them unfit to be a part of his master race." He almost said too much, here -- that one of the duties he'd had as leader of the paranormal resistance was also leader of the human resistance -- thus, the force which even now drove Hazzard to do what he did.

Hazzard nodded. "The ones with deformities ... Pasko's Disease? What are you doing now? Why were you trying to get to the Baxter Building? To stop Richards?"

"If it's an offensive you want to mount against Richards," the dark Nightmask said, "you're a wee bit late for that." He smiled.

Pulling his gun back out, Hazzard demanded answers from the shady character. "What d'you mean, 'too late'? What's happened to the Emperor?"

Nightmask lowered the rifle with his right hand. "What I mean t'say is, even if you'd have made it into the Building,"; he turned from Hazzard to Tensen, "and even if you (and you are still alive! Wow!) and your friends hadn't flubbed up on the teleportation gimmick, well, Richards would've been -- and is currently -- long gone from good ol' N.Y.C. How's that for clear and precise?"

Tensen flared with anger as he let shields of force flow from his left hand, surrounding the man who had killed him only hours before. The shields lifted Nightmask high in the air as Tensen said: "What have you done with him? Is he dead? What right have you to carry out the justice that is our rightful duty?"

Nightmask closed his eyes, sighed, and the shields which Tensen had projected simply dissipated, leaving him to float freely, feather-like to the ground below. "I didn't do nuthin', Tensen m'boy. He did it all to himself."

"What do you mean?" Lightmask asked.

"Well, allow me to use my reality-warping powers the way you wanted to, Keithette," Nightmask said, drawing up mystical dream-energy in the air all around them, "and let's go see for ourselves!"

And again, they all were gone in a mass of green light and smoke.

Mount Pittsburgh:

He and the others had arrived at the foot of the volcano almost a day ago, in search of some precious mystical talisman in the area which disrupted not the weather but the planet Earth itself, with tectonic shift after tectonic shift. The terrain was too rough to land their flying vehicle upon, and so the trio scaled the mountain on foot, unable to find the secret subterranean tunnels built by the Emperor. They had completed their climb a few scant hours ago, and were now atop the peak, gazing downward into the fiery furnace of death, hoping against hope that the presence of their own parabilities would preclude any further mutation due to inhalation of the fumes belching forth at this moment.

"Can't you see how the power responds to my mere presence? This is glorious! Simply GLORIOUS!"

The godlike being known only as Thanatos stood at the precipice, and smiled in awe of the scenario which had just begun to unfold. Below him, the lava welled up to the surface, bubbling in deep reds and oranges as hot gases danced through the hot night air.

Beside him stood the two men who had followed him, guided him out to this wasteland: Lieutenant Victor Stone, and Major Richard Proudhawk. They had been instructed to bring him wherever he wished. Their master, who was not Richards, had ordered them thus. Their duty was to allow him to lead them to some object of power which could be seized from him once he discovered it for them; but now he simply seemed transfixed by the volcano itself, driven insane by the vapors coming forth from it, unconcerned with the voyage he had embarked upon with them for the time being.

"Where is Kylie, the one of your number you promised would be arriving shortly?" Thanatos asked. "I have little patience for those who keep me waiting. Especially when waiting for something so precious as this."

"She'll be here," Proudhawk supposed. He was as afraid of this creature Thanatos as he was of Richards; the aura he radiated was of pure fear and evil. It sickened him like nothing else.

Stone looked over his shoulder, down to the side of the volcano, where a lone figure emerged from the ashen darkness. "She is come, at last!" he exclaimed as Kylie staggered up the mount to join them.

Only she wasn't alone.

"What treachery is this?" Thanatos screamed in raw fury. His eyes met two other beings flanking the female captain. He recognized -- and hated -- both of them.

"You shall come with us, away from the volcano, now, whoever you are. Thus commands the Emperor." They stepped forward from the ash, revealing themselves as Annihilus and the Tzzar of the Negative Zone. "And by our hand shall the Emperor's orders be carried out!"

"Whoever I am--?" Thanatos laughed heartily. "You mean, as yet you have no idea who I am? I, who fought alongside you when I was disembodied? I, who tried to massacre your dear Emperor, that dolt Richards?" He raised his hands, shield and blaster suddenly in them. "You must be bigger fools than even Richards realizes."

And then, Thanatos fired at them all.

With that first salvo, Kylie Munro, caught between Thanatos and his quarry, thus became the first casualty of Thanatos' new war.

A new swirling of green energy then permeated the area not far from the main battle. Even as Stone and Proudhawk fired their own weapons upon the twin menace from Richards' personal guard, a mass of people appeared to behold the entire scene. Tensen, Nightmask, Lightmask and the rest had arrived.

"Fire in the hole!" Tensen shouted as laser gunfire ripped past his group. Immediately he looked back to see that his daughter was all right. He saw Lightmask give him the thumbs up, with Angela below him, and so everything was fine.

"What's this? A whole convention at the Mount Pittsburgh volcano?" Proudhawk wondered aloud as he now turned his gun on the group of freakish paranormals. Stone followed, but Thanatos' weaponry stayed focused on Annihilus and Tzzar, who enow were charging him with much speed.

"You shall not defeat the almighty Thanatos! You'll both fall at my feet! And you'll send that message back to your emperor!" Astonishingly, as the duo rushed him, Thanatos held out both his hands and caught the head of each creature. Their timing thrown off, both were easy prey as Thanatos thrashed their heads together. With a crack, Annihilus and the Tzzar fell to the earth, not to pose a problem for the foreseeable future, at least not as far as Thanatos was concerned.

"I shall not be turned from my task! Thanatos will triumph!" the madman roared, striding ever closer to the top of the volcano. "And all of you shall soon feel my wrath!" He looked at the crew assembled tens of feet below, all fighting amongst themselves. "You, Tensen! You, Nightmask! And those who brought me to this mountain to retrieve my lost artifact: you shall receive death as your gift for knowing me -- and shortly, I shall be the one to bequeath it to you all!"

While Thanatos continued to boast atop the volcano which burst with flame, another being finished his ascent past the cloudy ash storm below and came into view. He knelt down beside the corpse of Kylie Munro, his fallen captain, his fallen lover. Caressing her features, Reed Richards shouted upward at the beast whose laser fire had slain her.

"THANATOS! YOUR DEATH SHALL COME TODAY! TURN AND FACE ME!"

All the others who fought did stop at the sudden war-cry of the Emperor of this world. Only the din of the volcano readying itself for disaster provided background noise for this confrontation.

The titan turned toward the Emperor. The flames which rose from the edge of the volcano singed his features, melting his skin even as purple-hued power radiated from the body which had once belonged to Aaron Delgato. The gold melted, and the rest of his raiments were in sorry shape. But there could be no doubt that this was still Thanatos, and he was in no mood to have any man issue him death threats.

"You dare, Richards? You dare interrupt me when the time is nigh? When I have almost reclaimed my destiny, reclaimed myself?" He laughed with a sound to chill the soul. "Bah. You are nothing to me. Less than nothing, in fact -- even being who you are. Nothing you can do shall stop me. I will emerge victorious this day."

"Have you forgotten, villain, what I can do? What fifty years of experimentation, of the honing of my 'worthless ability' can lead to? I believe I have more than enough might to finish you off. Observe!"

Tensen looked through widened eyes at the gruesome tableau. If what I read was correct, then it's do-or-die time, he thought.

With that, the form of Reed Richards, sovereign of this Earth, began to change. His body contorted, stretched, morphed as though possessed by an outside force. Muscle began developing at a rapid pace all along his increasingly tall frame, making the garments which covered him threaten to give way. And soon enough give away they did, the royal raiment splitting off, ripping and fluttering to the ground below, leaving only a pair of blue trunks behind, which grew along with the rest of him. And then, the pink skin which had been beneath Reed's uniform began to stretch impossibly, as though something sinister were beneath it, aching to be released. The flesh suddenly broke open, tearing like paper, revealing a new, second skin of a ghastly, deep purplish-gray mix. The first skin blew away in the hot breeze, taking with it the majority of Richards' facial features and his hair, leaving the new creature bald, inhuman. The new skin grew coarse and ridged as shoulders broadened, as the powerful bulk reached eight feet in height, then nine, and finally, impossibly, ten. Facial features warped, brow protruding forth, jaw growing more primitive, eyes becoming red and filled with madness. The beast who had been Reed Richards -- the Reed Richards of Counter-Earth -- now spoke, its voice deep and guttural:

"Now we shall see who is stronger -- the human known as Thanatos, who fancies himself as unto a god -- or the unfettered fury of me ... THE BRUTE!"

Face it, effendi--THIS ONE'S GOT IT ALL!

END OF PART THREE.
 

---

Site created and maintained by Gary Michael Miller, tensen2099@yahoo.com Tensen and all related characters are © 2001 Marvel Characters, Inc. No copyright infringements intended.