MV2 Presents

A-Next, The Next Generation of Avengers!

Remember the Heroes

By Stephen Crosby

 

Over a decade ago, the sight of an armored man flying through the air had been common around Stark Enterprises and it’s various holdings. Now, after many years, that sight had returned.

However, the armored man descending towards the corporate offices was not the Golden Avenger that had been the Invisible Iron Man. Rather, it was Anthony Stark’s hand-picked successor to the role, and the current chairman to the newly reformed Avengers. The Mighty Mainframe!

Depowering his boot jets, Mainframe touched down near the main building of Stark Enterprises. His emotions masked beneath that cold face of metal, he strode through the door and towards the elevator. At first, the security guard moved towards Mainframe, his mouth open to speak. But the sight of the six-foot tall armored Avenger quickly dissuaded Mr. Harold Hogan from acting any further.

Stepping into the corporate elevator, Mainframe pressed his palm against a handprint beside the button panel. A quick whirring of computers, one sharp ping, and the elevator softly descended.

Finally, after descending several stories, the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Mainframe stepped out and strode towards the inch-thick adamantium doors.

“Iron protocol 11-D T-Stark Alpha-9,” Mainframe said, not slowing down. The doors automatically opened in response to the code, allowing Mainframe to enter the most restricted area of Stark Enterprises.

Mainframe entered a long corridor. Running along the sides, standing as silent sentries, were dozens of Iron Man armors. As lifeless and unmoving as they appeared, Mainframe knew that each one of those old armors will spark to life at the first sign of an intruder. And they represented only one line of defense among the many that protected this area’s one resident.

Mainframe strode past these relics of a past age, continuing towards the doors at the far end of the hall. As the Avengers chairman did so, numerous hidden security features scanned and cleared him as one among a handful of individuals authorized to enter. The last set of adamantium doors opened, and Mainframe entered the heart of Stark Enterprises.

The room was not large. Across from Mainframe, resting beneath the trophy that was the program-less husk that had once been Ultron, there lay a large bed surrounded by a variety of computers. Hooked up to this elaborate life-support system; indeed, hooked up to Stark Enterprises itself; there lay a tiny, barely recognizable human being. Anthony Stark.

Mainframe strode forward, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed that held the richest and most powerful man in the United States. Tony Stark, his central nervous system devastated by years of wearing the Iron Man armor, existed as barely more than a computer program, kept alive and capable of communicating only through his miraculous technology. However, as pitiful as the great hero’s state may have appeared, there wasn’t a trace of pity in Mainframe’s emotionless facemask. In fact, if any emotion could have been detected at all, it would most likely have been cold, furious rage.

“I felt you take control,” Mainframe stated, spitting it out like a filthy accusation.

Anthony Stark’s body could only look up at Mainframe, but his mind could and did answer. As a founder, I have every right. That pathetic excuse for Steve’s replacement needed to know exactly where he stood. Whether it’s run by Fury or Gyrich, I will not allow the Avengers to be controlled by SHIELD.

“Of course not,” Mainframe responded. “Only you have the right. But is it worth your life? How close did those few seconds get you towards a fatal cardiac arrest?”

Too close, the computerized voice of Tony Stark said. But there is still so much to be done. Thor is off playing king, Steve and Hank are dead, Bruce is gone forever, and Janet... A single tear slid down Tony Stark’s catatonic face at the thought of what happened to the woman he had once cared deeply for. Janet is also lost to us. As the last active Avengers founder, I have a responsibility to guide this new team.

“And I am charged with safeguarding your life Mr. Stark. You have taken more than enough steps to safeguard the new Avengers, to ensure that a team will always be around when needed. I implore you sir, stay out of our affairs unless you are truly needed, lest we lose you when it really counts.”

That sounds like something Vision would say. Ironic, I suppose. You’re right. I’ll give the new Avengers the space they need, entrust Edwin to guide them through these early stages. But when I am needed, I will act, consequences be damned.

Mainframe nodded. “Of you sir, I would expect nothing less.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“This is so boring!” Cassie Lang, the Avenger known publicly as the Stunning Stinger, cried out. She leaned over the computer console, peering at the monitors through half-closed eyes. “What’s the point of having a sophisticated computer system if it can’t keep us out of monitor duty? The minute this thing is contacted with a threat, it can just sent a priority signal to our ID cards! Why should we be here?”

“Computers can screw up Cassie,” Henry Pym, son of the late Dr. Hank Pym, responded. “We’re supposed to keep up to date on these things ourselves anyway, stay in practice so we don’t let our guard down or something. I don’t know. Shieldbearer was making some big speech about working on patience and studying about old enemies, but I wasn’t really listening.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Stinger said. “Except for the stuff about reading the archives. Having grown up around heroes, I’ve always been a little interested in the old days.”

Running her fingers over the computer keys, Stinger brought up a variety of images on the monitor screens. Among them were images of the Black Widow, Batroc the Leaper, Wonder Man, Scarlet Witch, and the Grim Reaper. “Take the Champions for instance. They had some of the funniest adventures ever!”

Henry Pym, the Giant Man, nodded. “Yeah, I’d heard that they something of a joke. I mean, they fought more monkeys than all the other heroic teams combined. Even the Fantastic Four!”

Stinger laughed. “Those chimps were awesome! Every time I saw them, I had to keep from laughing. It was even harder whenever Batroc used that stupid fake accent.” Stinger’s smile quickly turned to a frown of sadness. “It was a real shame about him. Of all the reformed villains I’d met, Batroc was the last one I had imagined going back to crime.”

“That was after he’d lost a fight with the Toad, right?” Giant Man asked.

Stinger nodded. “Batroc never could live down that moment. Then after the Toad did all that psycho stuff later on, Batroc felt like he’d allowed it to happen because he hadn’t stopped the guy early on. He just kept on pushing himself, forcing fights with everybody he saw, even teammates.” She shook her head sadly. “It was the beating Guinea Pig had given him that really drove Batroc over the edge.”

Giant Man motioned at the image of the Black Widow. “He was finally killed by Black Widow, wasn’t he?”

“I-I’d rather not talk about that,” Stinger finally said after a long pause. With a push of a button, she removed the images of Black Widow and Batroc. “Needless to say, it tore the Champions apart. All because of that damned Toad.”

“He got his,” Giant Man encouraged. “What about the final battle between Wonder Man and the Grim Reaper? I was too young at the time to really experience it as it happened.”

“You were lucky,” Stinger said softly. “Grim Reaper had thought he could win his brother’s love by killing the Scarlet Witch, then trying to resurrect her as a zombie that would feel nothing but love for Wonder Man. Taking the death blast meant for Wanda had probably been the most self-less thing Simon had ever done. This was the real, permanent death of his soul, but he gladly took it because he loved Wanda. Even when she didn’t return his love, Wonder Man had still loved her.”

“That was when the Grim Reaper transported New York City to Hell?” Giant Man asked.

“He’d killed his brother,” Stinger answered. “Erik had managed to retain some semblance of sanity because he saw Simon’s good deeds as making up for his own evil. When Wonder Man died from Grim Reaper’s hand, that was the end of the justification. The Grim Reaper had gone face-to-face with all the terrible things he’d done over the years, and that experience left him with one hell of a death wish.

“So he tried to kill himself,” Stinger continued. “The problem was, he tried to take a whole city out with him. He went like it was all a mission to journey into Hell for Wonder Man’s soul, an attempt to bring his brother back, but it was clear that he was trying to do out in a blaze of glory. In the end, it was the Vision that got through to him. He’d convinced Erik that if he sent New York City back to Earth, saving millions of lives, that he’d be able to die with the weight of all his evil deeds swept away. So Grim Reaper, fighting for his life against an endless swarm of demons, used the last of his power to send the city back.”

“Heavy,” Giant Man said. “A shame he didn’t get to see Wonder Man return.”

Stinger gave a wry laugh. “Yeah, but boy was Simon mad at the Vision. As a result of the whole thing, Wonder Man exiled himself into space, while the Vision reduced himself to a simple computer program. An anti-virus, meant to track down and destroy every vestige of Ultron that still existed. None of the them have been seen since.”

“Damn,” was all Giant Man said. “I’m part of one screwed up family, even excluding Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver.”

“Tell me about it,” Stinger replied. “After working so hard to disassociate themselves from Magneto and become solid Avenger names, they die in some huge mutant conflict. Most folks don’t even associate them with the Avengers anymore.” Stinger shuddered. “Then there’s what happened to Wasp.”

“God, I don’t even want to think about it,” Giant Man said.

Stinger nodded, looking a little sick. Before she could say anything, the computer console suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree, complete with a blaring alarm that caused Stinger and Giant Man to jump out of their seats.

“What the hell is that!” Giant Man started. But then an image appeared on all the monitors, the scene that was the cause for the alarm going out. Giant Man’s words stuck in his throat.

“God, I hate monitor duty,” Stinger muttered.

______________________________________________________________________________________

“And that’s it for today class,” Kevin Masterson declared. “Remember, your first art project is due Monday.”

The students gathered their supplies and began to file out. Professor Masterson stood by the door, greeted each student as he or she left the classroom. About halfway through a discussion with a pretty young arts major, his wallet started beeping.

“Damn pager,” Kevin said. “Excuse me. Continue on.”

Stepping back from the doorway, Kevin took out his wallet and opened it up. It was his Avengers card that was beeping, and the words “Priority One!” were flashing in big bright letters.

“Shit,” Kevin muttered. Putting  his wallet back away, Kevin moved to leave the classroom with the remainder of his students.

Unfortunately, just as Kevin was out the door, a young man stepped in front of him with his hand outstretched.

“Professor Masterson,” the young man said. “Pardon me, but I am new to this class, and would like to introduce myself. I am Peter Nereel.”

Kevin accepted the hand and nodded. “Oh, the exchange student from the Savage Land. Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t greet you earlier, but I’d only received the notice this morning.”

Peter shrugged with a smile. “It is no big deal. Also, I wanted to personally commend your lecture on technique. I only took this class because my mother insisted, but you are making it much more interesting than I had anticipated.”

“I’m glad to hear that Peter,” Kevin said. “Look, I’d love to talk more, but there’s somewhere important that I have to be.”

“Yes yes, of course,” Peter replied quickly. “I am very sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s all right. I’ll see you in class Monday, Peter. Goodbye.”

The students left behind, Kevin Masterson jogged out of the building. Looking around, he found a secluded area of the campus.

“Thunderstrike,” Kevin whispered.

A great *KRAKA-TOOM!* echoed out. Suddenly, Kevin was gone, and there stood Thunderstrike. His costume was a slight variation of the original Thunderstrike’s, his father. It was a simple spandex costume of light orange and brown, with the emblem of a warhammer over the left breast. Thunderstrike’s hair was long and in a pony-tail, as opposed to Kevin Masterson’s simple crew-cut.

Thunderstrike looked down at his hand, where his Avengers card was clasped, still beeping.

“Priority One,” Thunderstrike mused. “That would mean an assault on the museum itself.”

Thunderstrike then looked at both his hands. “Thor and my father traveled by throwing their hammers, then allowing themselves to be carried along. I may not have a hammer, but I hold the power of one. Perhaps if I concentrate my thunder blasts towards the ground, but with only a minute amount of force....”

Thunderstrike did so, and was himself surprised by his sudden propulsion through the air. In a high, long arc, Thunderstrike was carried off the Empire State University Campus, through the air of New York City itself.

Straight towards a tall building

“Whoa!” Thunderstrike cried out. Quickly he brought up his hands, and released another slight thunder blast just as he was about to crash into the building.

With an astounding crash, the glass windows around that immediate face of the building shattered. But Thunderstrike had succeeded in altering his trajectory, ricocheting away from the building.

“That was close,” Thunderstrike thought aloud as he careened through the air. “I’ll have to get some practice in, but nows not the time.”

Altering his route twice more, Thunderstrike finally managed to propel himself in the direction of Avengers Museum and remain on the course. Once he caught sight of the museum, Thunderstrike released another powerful thunder blast so that he could land directly on the rooftop, where he could clearly see Giant Man’s twelve-foot tall, bright red-garbed frame.

Thunderstrike crashed on the rooftop. He gritted his teeth as tremors of pain shuddered throughout his body. Thunderstrike also looked around, and realized that he, Giant Man, and the small flitting form that was Stinger were the only ones there.

“Where’s this threat you called about?” Thunderstrike asked.

“The computer did that, not us,” Stinger passed by Thunderstrike’s ear and said. “It had registered some kind of weird energy over the museum. Probably some kind of malfunction, because do you see any freaky energy?”

“No,” Thunderstrike began. “Then he noticed that while the tremors had lessened throughout his body, they hadn’t ceased. “But I feel something. It’s like a...resonance of some kind, as though the magic of my powers is reacting to the presence of another form of magic.”

“Like a tuning fork?” Giant Man asked. “Well, that’s some help at least. Maybe you can pinpoint where it’s coming from, because it looks like we won’t be able to see it until its....too....late....”

Looking up at what had Giant Man’s attention, Stinger nodded. “Yep, I’d say it’s too late.”

Over the heads of the three Avengers, a slash of purple energy had sliced through the air, creating a rapidly-widening portal of some kind. On the other side, the air was red and stormy, and the three Avengers felt an almost-unbearable wave of heat permeate through.

In the center of the portal, glowing scythe poised to strike, there stood a figure long-believed dead. A man who had battled with the Avengers almost from the beginning, even from beyond the grave.

The Grim Reaper had returned.

“Bring me my brothers!” the Grim Reaper declared. “Now, before I reduce this city to ashes!”

“Of course you will,” Stinger replied. “Not two days after we reassemble, one of our greatest enemies returns. And you’re probably more powerful than ever, right?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Giant Man said. He cracked the knuckles of his huge fists. “We’re three to your one, Reaper, and we’re no slouches in the power department either.”

The Grim Reaper grinned menacingly. “You’re a bunch of kids, unworthy of my time,” he cackled. “Fortunately, I didn’t come alone!”

With those words, the otherworldly portal opened by Grim Reaper widened. To his left, a bright white light blinked into existence. To his right, the ashes and embers of hell swept into the air, whirling about in a small tornado.

While above the Grim Reaper, along the top of the portal, a giant skeletal hand appeared. Grasping the top of the portal, this hand of bones lifted it up, pulling the portal farther open. There, towering behind the Grim Reaper, was a gigantic skeleton, easily twenty-five feet in height.

“The Living Laser, Whirlwind, and Goliath,” the Grim Reaper declared. “Years dead they may be, but my power has allowed them to rise again! They are my Lethal Legion of the Unliving!”

______________________________________________________________________________________

Next Issue: The Grim Reaper is back, but a little behind! Can the new Avengers stop him before he makes good on his threat? Maybe. But can they stop the Grim Reaper’s new Lethal Legion of the Unliving? Probably not.

 

 

 

 

        

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