The year is 2025. Heroes such as Spiderman [Miles Morales] and Ms. Marvel [Kamala Khan] are getting grey and entering their 40's. Many heroes of their generation have already retired such as Nova [Sam Alexander], and Wolverine [X-23] is among the staff at the Xavier Institute. A new generation of heroes has already started hitting the scene with reports of a new Spider-person, among other things on the Daily Bugle jumbo-tron in Times Square. The world was recently devastated as Steve Rogers, the original Capt. America, passed away in his old age. His successor, Sam Wilson [aka the Falcon], retired from his honorary position as Capt. America shortly after and turned the shield back over to the government. However, nobody was prepared for the return of [insert villains]. How will the new generation of heroes manage? Team-ups? A new super-team? Allies will be made and lines will be drawn. Legacies must continue, heroes and villains reborn... or the future is lost.



Rules:

1.) No back-to-back posting.

2.) PAY ATTENTION TO DETAIL AND SET-UPS!!

3.) Make sense. If we can't make heads or tails of your posts they're likely to get skipped over.

4.) Get permission before using another player's character in your posts if it involves changing the scene or making actions. Everybody will take beatings in this game in battle however, so don't get pissed if you get punched or blasted into a wall by the bad guys! Namely me controlling the badguys...

5.) Problems with the game or players should be sent directly to me through PM's. I don't want a bunch of bickering in the OOC.

6.) Abandoned characters will be used as NPC's or killed off within the context of the story.

7.) “I was waiting for [insert player/character] to make a move” is not how this game is played.

8.) There is no rule #8.

9.) My word is law.

10.) Obey the law.

11.) In the event that I'm offline for any period of time, the Co-GM @BlackSam3091 will take control and HIS word will then be law.





Brooklyn, New York...

Jacob was at his uncle's home, which looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. A lot of the things in the home of the original Thing were built specifically to match his needs, so any tools or appliances were made for giant rocky hands and fingers to operate. Ben Grimm was in his early 70's now, as he was the oldest member of the Fantastic Four back in the 80's and 90's. He had been training his nephew for several months now after discovering the boy had geokinetic powers. Jacob was the great nephew of Ben, and idoled his uncle for years. Jacob stayed with him one weekend a month in his teen years after he lost his mother to cancer. Presently, Jacob was in a sleeveless suit his uncle had given him.

"Now I went through a lot of trouble to get all of these rocks so we don't rip up the floor of my pad like last time..." Ben began saying in the large basement like area that did still have some damage, "I wanna see you build more than hands and hammers."

"What do you mean?" Jacob asked a bit puzzled.

"I wanna see you cover your whole body." Ben replied.

"My whole body?" Jacob asked.

"Did I stutter?" Ben said sternly.

A faint blue energy escaped the boy's eye and the rocks around them began floating. Jacob started with the feet and legs, adding an extra few inches to his height. The hands and arms lead into the chest.

"A big grey version of him, shouldn't be too hard..." Jacob thought straining a bit now as the rocks came up around his collar.

As the rocks enveloped his head before they could cover his eyes and nose the same faint blue energy now projected something of an opening. Ben surely didn't have the smarts to explain it so he thought nothing of it.

"Doesn't look too bad, kid. I dunno what's going on with the face, but it looks legit. Is it taking a lot out of ya?" Ben asked.

"I can probably hold this form at least five or ten minutes..." Jacob began before the elderly Thing took a swing at him.

WHAM!

"What was that for?!?" Jacob screamed.

"I ain't as strong as I once was, but I could still knock over a house with that hay-maker. Didn't even drop you to one knee and you're still a rookie." Ben explained.

"Maybe you're just that old now, Uncle Ben." Jacob said laughing and dissipating the rock armor.

"Where's Doctor Doom when you need him?" Ben said now looking down at the young man jokingly.

~KL~

Maximilian Maxwell was holding the line to ensure the absolute most number of people escaped the planet as possible. Some were fleeing on space ships but he watched as the destruction of Earth destroyed those, his brother piloting one of those. His job was to keep out the human scum while mutants escaped. When the tunnel in front of him collapsed he made his way to the gateway room. He watched as the last of them left and the portal started to flicker in and out. He ran at full speed as the room around him started to explode. He ran at full speed jumping through the portal clueless as to where he would end up.

Maximilian found himself falling towards a skyscraper that said Daily Bugle. "What the hell is a Daily Bugle?" He thought as he crashed right through it. As he came out the other side he realized he was hundreds of feet in the air. "Frellsnack!" He kept on crashing through a series of buildings and finally through a jumbotron while Janet Jennifer Jameson was ranting about the newest menance in New York destroying buildings. He wasn't destroying them, just putting giant holes through them.

When Maximilian landed he stood up, he surveyed his surrounding and a bunch of onlookers. They are all human looking so he couldn't tell if they were Homo inferior or Homo superior. He decided to play it cool. Then a bunch of robot looking things in slightly larger than human size and Hulk sized suits surrounded him along with a near middle aged woman.

She identified herself as Agent Quake of S.H.I.E.L.D. They had S.H.I.E.L.D. on his Earth too, depending on who was currently in control of it's constantly changing leadership meant good or bad, they changed leaders daily sometimes more than once a day. Maximilian figured if she was going by Quake she either had some really frelled up parents giving her such a stupid name or she was mutant or the even rarer and more revered Inhuman. He never met an Inhuman before, always wanted to. He forced himself to calm down.

"A degenerate triangle is formed by three collinear points" The calculus teacher droned on and on about degenerates. Degenerates, Brandon thought to himself, like the thugs he had taken out the week ago. Brandon thought back to that day...

"So, looks like Darkhawk's come back!" The thug said.

"Darkhawk, huh? I like that name. I think I'll take it after beating you senseless!" Brandon, who had donned his Darkhawk armor ran up quickly to the thug and punched him in the head, knocking him out. Two more thugs came up from behind and Brandon's claws came out as one of the thugs attempted to plunge a knife into Brandon. The claws caught the knife, and Brandon used his free hand to punch the thugs stomach. He clawed the knife in half and did a roundhouse kick on the other thug. The last thug ran off, screaming about how he'd regret this and that he'd be looking for him.

"Brandon, pay attention please!" The teacher said to Brandon. Brandon looked over at Amy, who rolled his eyes at him. The bell rang and class went out as the students filed out into the halls. Amy walked up to Brandon.

"Sheesh, Brandon. You're definitely gonna flunk out at this rate!" She said to him.

"Ah, well Calculus is hard. And I've had a lot on my mind lately." Brandon said to her.

"Like what, when you have to listen to the Cure next? You're so lame!" Amy said.

"Yeah, whatever. You still gonna drop by my place to pickup your stuff later?" Brandon asked.

"Yeah I will, see you later, numb nuts." Amy said

Brandon watched as Amy walked off. She might be a bit condescending, but damn was she a looker. She had curly red hair and pale white skin and wore shorts that showed off her milky white thighs. Brandon lost his train of thought for a bit watching her walk off. He walked out of the school and began his walk home. Suddenly, he heard some commotion and ran towards it to see what it was. There were figures who were as large as the Legendary Hulk all standing around, Brandon ducked out of sight and listened in on their conversation

Anders yawned and looked at the sleeping woman beside him. A small chuckle left him as he remembered what happened last night.

A scream for help caused him to rush there. The sight before him was a man with a gun trying to steal the woman's belongings. "Woah." The man turned and started yelling and Anders simply shook his head. "No listen to me...You don't want to do this. In fact you are going to lower the gun and leave." The man blinked and lowered the weapon. "Good and you will not remember me or what happened here." The man blinked again before leaving with a bewildered expression. The woman looked relieved and rushed to him. "Thank you! I have no idea how you did that, but I don't care. How can I repay you" Anders smiled and the two ended up at her place.

Now he lightly leaned over and whispered in her ear. Then he pulled on his clothes and made his way outside.
Course he did not make it very far when he saw the commotion. The heck was that thing anyway? If it came anywhere near him he would have to use his voice because that thing was huge and he did not much like the idea of mimicking the now destroyed buildings. He liked living too much.

When Maximilian stood down and transformed back to his non-Hulked out state. He could see Quake visibly relax a little. She called down a Containment Module. He didn't like the look of it, reminded him of a padded cell for crazy people. He got in it and let them do whatever is they do. He didn't want to worsen his first encounter with his new home's authority than he already had. In a location he had no idea where he was interrogated by Quake.

He explained the situation back on Xadon his planet when it still existed. He explained why he came crashing through several buildings, turns out he killed quite a few humans on his way down. Recounting the deaths of his friends, family, and loved ones only made him feel even more alone, the ones he protected as they escaped to countless other universes he knew none of them. Even if they managed to find him he would not find a person he cared for. He was beginning to wonder why he even bother to escape the destruction, he had nothing here but pain. He shut down refusing to cooperate further. He could see that Quake was frustrated with his refusal but she didn't understand his pain, she never could. She would grow old and die around the same time as those she cares about most. She would never be afflicted with the curse to watch everyone she loves die over and over never growing old.

Quake eventually left the room grunting as she went. Maximilian didn't care what happened at this point. He would either be locked away until he died of old age if even possible, the planet died, or they found a need to use him as their weapon. Back home the war mongers didn't care about him, he was a living weapon that they manipulated into fighting for one side or the other, he was to blind and stupid to see it in his rage and guilt.

---

---

There is a townhouse at 177A Bleecker Street in New York City's Greenwich Village. While from the outside it appears to be no more than a perfectly normal, if slightly archaic, building, it is in fact the Sanctum Sanctorum for earth’s Sorcerer Supreme, a place where the ley lines of mystical energy that weave through our physical world meet, serving as a focal point for all things supernatural. In the past it has often been the first line of defence against any otherworldly foe that would seek to invade or destroy earth. Today another struggle takes place upon it’s ornate steps of granite, though this one is a little less epic in scope than the ones that came before it.

“Get your hands off me, you glorified thug! I am a Prince, dammit, not some common squatter to be handled like a sack of refuse!” A young man, tall, lean, dark haired and dressed in casual three-piece suit, was being ‘escorted’ from the premises by an elderly Asian man. From the tired, almost bored expression on the older man’s face, it seemed that this was a task he had to perform often. With a light push the younger man was sent stumbling a few steps into the street, though he managed to keep his balance and stay on his feet.

“Please, ‘Prince Faen’, Dr Strange and I are getting tired of finding you skulking about the Sanctum’s libraries. The next time you try it, you might trigger the houses defences, and they will be far less gentle with you than I.” There was only the merest hint of an Eastern accent to the older man’s voice, as if he had kept it by choice as a tribute to his heritage. The younger man used his hands to dust himself down then straighten his slate grey jacket before responding.

“Pah! As if those paltry hexes could do anything other than mildly inconvenience me. Besides, surely the fact that I continue to get past them should be more than ample proof of my credentials to your master. If he would just agree to teach me then I wouldn’t be forced to continue sneaking in!”

The older man shook his head gently before turning on his heel and slowly shuffling back up the steps towards the house, showing the weight of his years now more heavily than he had been when he had forced the younger man out.

“You are skilled, yes,” He called back over his shoulder, “but you are not ready to be taught. Perhaps you never will be. Goodbye, young Prince. Please use the doorbell next time you come visiting. It will save us all time.”

Faen stood staring up at the townhouse for some time after the door had eased shut, alone with his thoughts. After twenty minutes, had passed, when it had become painfully apparent that he wasn’t going to be invited back in, he cursed softly under his breath.

“Tomorrow then. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He promised, before setting off down the street, long legs eating up the miles. His quick pace was a shame really, because he had nowhere to be.

---

---

_{The Night Before}

On North Brother Island near Bronx out of sight from the rest of the large city a man of average size is carrying another man that is gagged and blindfolded. He takes him into one of the buildings second floor and ties him to a chair. The man is about to remove the gag and blindfold when a girl walks in saying, "Alex, what are you doing!" Alex turns to look to his friend and says, "What'd I say? Don't use my name. Also, what I am doing is what we all agreed to do. Going to get the info from this guy about where they moved everyone else."

"Okay, but why did you bring him here. If they figure out where we are hiding that will be bad news." Alex sighed at his friend and said, "You won't have to worry about that, Malorie." Alex takes the blindfold and gag off the man then works on waking him up. "Do I even wanna know what you mean by that?" At that Alex looked to his friend and fellow Breytech escapee shaking his head no.

The man that Alex seemed to have kidnapped started waking up and coughed a bit from how his mouth had just had a sock in it. He looked up at the two in front of him and said in a frantic voice, "Where am I? What do you want with me?" Alex turned to Malorie and said, "You may wanna leave for this part." She shook her head signifying she would watch, but it was obvious she wasn't entirely sure of her decision. Alex sighed then walked over to the man saying, "I'm gonna ask you a few questions about where you work. I wouldn't recommend lying because I have a way to tell if you are." The man looked around then at the two standing in front of them and within moments the fear that seemed to be in his eyes was gone. "So, that's why I'm here. Guessing from the barren location and the way you two look you're some of the Muties that escaped."

Alex took a step toward the man with his fist clinched, but Malorie grabbed his arm stopping him. "What? You freaks want to know where your friends are? Well, to bad. I couldn't tell you if I wanted to, and I don't." Alex looked to Malorie then removed her hand from his arm. He walked towards the man punching him square in the jaw. "You may not be able to tell me where they are, but you can tell me someone who might." The man looked sternly at Alex not sure of what would come next.

_{Later the next morning}

Alex is now carrying a body bag closer to the hustle and bustle of the city. He knows that if Breytech gets a hold of the body that they will keep the death hidden from the populace which helps both sides in a way. He has a new target but it's just a name. He'll need to see if he can get Alonso to check it out. Alex started running towards a Breytech building and left the body in a bush where they should find it.

He runs until he is about a mile away then starts simply walking. He needs to go over in his head all the information over the past few days. Suddenly though, while walking down a fairly empty street, he feels some force start pulling him. He's about to start running when he is lifted off the ground and pulled into a quiet alleyway. He can smell two particular scents and says, "Alright you two. I'd recommend letting me go before I have to beat the crap outta ya." Three people step forward out of a side door and Alex is obviously slightly shocked by his misreading of the number of people. The woman in the middle is the one who starts speaking, "There's no reason to get so hostile. We are just mutants like you. I'd like your help with something though." The woman's body then morphs into a tall slender blue figure. Alex can only respond by saying one thing, "Mystique!"

Now. Apartment #34, Woodland St.
Portland, Oregon.

Randy was sitting on a dirty couch, the apartment in a total mess, which was something that would never reflect his discipline. He didn't give it much thought as he was occupied with preparing for his new job, a job that made him come all the way to Oregon. His Bo Staff and custom Colt guns laid before him on the table, wearing half his costume as he counted his bullets. The television was the only source of light in his rented apartment, something on the news murmured about a Hulk comet hitting New-York, but it was a passive noise for him. His contact at the organization that raised him called him earlier that night, gave Randy the specifics of his next job. It was another assassination contract, with the target vaguely described. Randy recollected the phone call while he put on his tops and fitted on his mask.

"...An affinity for fashion? That is all what I'm getting? You know I need more than that, this entire town has a damn affinity for fashion."
"Like I said Randolph, you will know your target when you see it. A lot of movers are paying big sums for your target's head, it has caused them numerous troubles, we wouldn't want that to happen to our beloved clients now would we?"
"Of course not, what are we without our blood-thirsty war mongering clients?"
"a bunch of savages Randolph. Clean shot, and I will wire you the money like usual."

When Randy was ready, his Bo Staff in one hand, his combat dagger in the other, fully clad in black padded trousers and Deadpool-era inspired colors he went out from the window, and climbed up to the rooftop through the fire exit. His target was a few blocks away, he had taken shelter in that shitty apartment for convenience's sake alone. Randy never used long-range weapons, he loathed Snipers and sniper rifles, preferring instead the old-fashioned way of assassination. Something that he learned since his coming of age, ninja-like approach to target elimination. What Randy never knew was that his target was non-other than the Runaway Daughter-Grimm, the eleven years old daughter of Nico Minoru, the original Sister-Grimm. When he finally spotted her in an alleyway, he felt shivers crawl through his skin pores.

Maximilian's Containment Module was loaded on to whatever vehicle carried it, he didn't know the name nor care to know the name. He could feelt the vehicle take off, clearly a VTOL of some sort. He could see nothing but the inside of the vehicle and quite numerous amount of agents all pointing their guns at him in case he hulked out. He didn't bother noticing any individual features to distinguish one from the other, they were little more than mindless drones bred to do the bidding of their master. Reminded him of the human slaves some of the Inhumans of his world kept. He began playing a game in his head to pass the time and to keep the ghosts of his past from popping up.

The game was rather knew and popular right before the Mutant Uprising the first game ever credited to being invented by a mutant, though at the time no one knew he was a mutant. It was a spin off of Solitaire, he couldn't remember the name. He was quite fond of it, to truly play it one needed a deck of smart cards. He never could beat it using the real thing but in his mind it didn't matter if he won or lost.

Idris Stone, Harlem's Ghost.
Harlem, NYC.

Harlem always seen struggle and conflict seeping through its sidewalk cracks, through the aging façade of the century old buildings, through the scarred skins of its youth, and now through the burning eyes of its most honest resident. Idris checked out of the Hospital last night, his father drove him home where his family greeted him with tearful eyes and a warm supper. After spending much of the night with his family he decided to take a walk at dawn instead of sleeping, he has already been in a coma for a week, he had all the sleep he needed. The wrestle that took place before his eyes between the Punisher and the Ghost Rider seemed fresh, as if it took place a few hours ago, and Idris felt the fire burn inside his chest. He felt that whatever the Ghost Rider imbued him with was a curse, it could not have been a gift in any way. But Idris knew he had done good all his life, why would he be the receiver of such an infernal curse? Or perhaps it wasn't a curse at all, perhaps the spirit of vengeance chose him, chose to bestow the responsibility of cleansing evil on Idris's solid shoulders.

Idris kept walking until he reached the collapsed building that was once a home to twelve families, and of the best store with fresh vegetables this side of New York. All destroyed in an unthinkable moment, memories now setting between rubble and ash. What was the purpose of their fight? Whose fault was this? Idris thought, he knew it had to be the Punisher. As long as Idris knew, the Ghost Rider would never go out of his way to cause menace, unless he is possessed or out of control, which if was true he would have never received his new powers. Yet again, maybe its Mephisto's doing, manipulating a pure soul like Idris to descend into madness. Idris was lost, and he knew just the person that might guide him, direct him and even mentor him. Luke Cage lived right around the corner, but Idris suspected he might still be there since the last time he saw him. Luke Cage have always been the idol of many Harlem kids and even adults, maybe he could help Idris with his new curse or gift. Idris kept walking until the sky was basked in sunlight, reaching Luke Cage's doorstep and taking a deep breath before he placed a couple knocks on the door.

@BlackPanther

Brandon saw as the Hulk like figure was carried onto a VTOL by some agents that looked to be S.H.I.E.L.D. He pondered whether he should follow and took out his amulet. He pressed on the button, and his body was sent to a dark place as he began piloting the suit of armor. The armor had completely recovered from the fights with the thugs while it was not being used. He ran out to follow the VTOL, but as he turned his head he saw a man of medium height and dirty blonde hair (Anders). Brandon's wings receded and his claws snikted out as he ran up on him. "Just forget you saw me, or you'll regret it." He said as he pointed his claws at him.

@Grec
Anders watched as everything unfolded before him with the guy who destroyed buildings. His hands slipping into his pockets as the chaos subsided. He found himself shaking his head and he started to turn when he spotted a man in armor. A brow raised and his head tilted. The claws were impressive, the wings were cool, but the guy had the nerve to give out a threat to him.

Anders chuckled. "Really? will I really regret it?" He shook his head and chuckled again. "I doubt it. What are you going to do scratch at me." He slipped his hands into his pockets. "I mean the suit is cool, but you lost me with the threat." He seemed way to calm considering he was facing a guy with armor and claws and he simply had his voice and that other ability he hardly ever uses.

@BlackPanther

"What are you going to do..." when these words hit Brandon's ears, he felt himself lost in a trance. "What I'm going to do" Brandon thought. As those words rang through Brandon's head, he felt his world begin to swirl as his vision became blurry. "What I am going to do...is whatever you want me to do...". Brandon thought. "Scratch me." The man said.

Brandon took his claws and lightly ran it across the man's chest. The words were irresistible to him. Brandon thought that he would do anything this man asked.

@Grec
Anders had let his sarcastic remark and forgot to turn off his voice power. He was not expecting the scratch and managed to moved slightly so a scratch that would have been chest was now arm. Blood ran down his arm and he yelped. "Fucking Fuck" He looked at the bleeding arm to the guy and back. "Right so that was my bad...forgot to stop using my voice so to speak...but....now I'm going to need you to take me to VTOL" The emphasis as he dipped into again was the sign of his ability. He looked at his scratched arm and winced. VTOL could fix him and he had a habit of getting into places he shouldn't to get himself fixed up.

"As swiftly and safely as you can" He had to be careful with phrasing when he was messing with his ability....damn his sarcasm. Fuck it hurt. It did not look too deep thank god, but still he was bleeding a bit heavily. With a grumble he maneuvered his arm to try to stop the blood flowing out.

@BlackPanther

"Take me to the VTOL." These words were like drugs to Brandon as they hypnotized him into doing whatever he said. Brandon used his Strength to piggyback the man and his wings sprouted out, he grappled the building and flew into the sky. The VTOL was flying ahead of them but they were swiftly catching up. He flew just behind it when the VTOL started making noise. Someone was speaking out of it with a megaphone device!

"Unknown entity, you will be shot down if you continue to follow us!" Brandon kept flying towards the VTOL. Suddenly, bullets started shooting out towards Brandon, which he barrel rolled to dodge. He then remembered the word "Safely" and started flying a bit lower towards the buildings. Then, a sniper from the VTOL took aim at Darkhawk's wing and Brandon started flying haphazardly. He landed on the ground, continued to carry the man and obsessively ran towards the VTOL with his own two feet.

Now. Unnamed Alley, by Trench St.
Portland, Oregon.

Randy jumped off the building after closely following his target, an eleven years old witch, he slowly approached her from the back and drew his combat dagger silently. The young girl noticed Randy's presence, she swiftly turned her head then her body, she slowly took a defensive stance before murmuring unheard chants that was followed by a staff coming out of her chest. She held her summoned staff in her right hand, while her left hand began painting purple lights around her.

"One more step and I will splatter your brain all over this alley, make me." she said, with a tone too spooky for an eleven year old.
"Easy kid, I'm only here to collect my money by taking your head with me. Torso, or no torso, that is up to you." Randy said, he tried to sound sarcastic and playful, however the girl didn't show a slight sign of being intimidated.
"Who sent you? Did mom send you? I'm not coming back, you hear? I'm not!" before Randy was able to respond the girl blasted purple arrows at him, he barely dodged them only to be struck by the girl's staff.
"I said easy, I'm not here to hurt you- yet at least. I just want to understand what's going on, what's your name?" He asked.
"Stay away, this is your final warning mercenary scum." He was hurt, he wasn't a mercenary scum he thought, he was the best, THE mercenary.
"I didn't know my target was an eleven years old magician, look let's have a second shot at this. I'm Ran- call me Deadgene." He said, whatever struck him, whatever that staff contained it was able to shake him apart and make him feel groggy.
"Funny, even an eleven years old brat will know not to trust a mercenary. Let alone one named Deadgene, seriously how do think this will end?" She said, her stance still the defensive stance it was.
"You are a brat, do you happen to have a name?" Randy asked.
"You hesitated to tell me your real name, so you can just call me Daughter-Grimm. And I'm a wizard, not a magician." She scoffed at Randy.

That name was familiar, Randy thought, she must be the relative or even direct descendant of the original Sister-Grimm. He decided to tread carefully, hiding his concerns behind an aloof drape. "What's the difference?" Randy chuckled, recovering his balance and sheathing his weapon.

"A wizard's show is free to attend, one-way ticket that is." Daughter-Grimm said, lowering her hand and placing her staff beside her.

---

Then. Arena number 3, the farm.
Denver, Colorado

"Pick it up, keep your focus about you young rat, the next blow is going to do more than bruise your virgin skin." Master Takeo said, but his voice was barely audible under the constant rumbling of the arena. Randy was still too young to face a fully-fledged shadow ninja, but he was facing three of them today, armed only with a bamboo cane which he dropped several feet behind his opponents.

"You are not leaving this arena until you fatally injure or kill your opponents, they know what they signed for, they enjoy murdering little incompetent trainees like you." Master Takeo's words served no contribution into raising young Randy's motivation, it only further widened his sense of fear.

"I will kill you." he said, with a burning rage, his fists clenched and bleeding.

As was usual when playing the game he lost. He eventually grew bored of losing. He was extremely tired from his efforts back on his world defending his people, so he did the only thing he could but didn't want to do he slept. He dreamt of his family. His daughter in her early twenties two years into her post-doctorate career. Looking for love and marriage. His son in his early teen just entering college. Looking to bed as many girls as possible. He wife would be feeling the effects of an empty nest, would be trying to bring another little bundle of joy into their lives. He dream consisted of the myriad of ways she would try to convince him into consenting to see a mutant fertility specialist to design their newest child. As with all of his dreams they turned to nightmares. The fertility clinic was bombed he was the sole survivor his daughter was murdered by a anti-mutant bigot using a dating app for mutants. His son on a bus transporting the football team to an away game was t-boned by a tractor trailer because the moron didn't know when to get off the road and get some sleep.

He woke in a rage smashing the table he had his laid upon with the might of the Hulk. The chair he sat he ripped in half.

The agents outside began panicking some said they should open the module and shoot him. Other said they should jettison the module into ocean. Quake broke the argument. She opened the module and used her powers to throw Hulk up against the wall and hold them there. Hulk fought back causing Quake to put more effort into using her powers, so much effort she was starting to break the bones in her arm.

Eventually a doctor came in with several drugs to counteract the adrenaline in his system. Hulk reverted back to Maximilian. He profusely apologized for the outburst. He asked the doctor if there was any medicine to prevent him from dreaming because all his dreams turned to nightmares which always resulted in the Hulk making an appearance. "Mistress Quake if you need a fast way of healing my blood can help with that. In low enough doses it should heal you faster but not result in your own Hulkification." Quake refused. The doctor wanted to know more. So Maximilian explained how he was turned into a Hulk against his will, via a blood transfusion from some dead Asian brat named Ohc.

"Hey kid, get off of th' couch!" Ben Grimm yelled at his nephew half asleep still on a Saturday morning.

There were fast food wrappers, cups, half eaten food, and comics all around as well as a PS6 controller. The older Grimm was shocked kids these days were such slobs, but then he remembered how he was at that age. Twenty-five years earlier kids would be sitting in front of the tv for Saturday morning cartoons, which quickly came to a halt during the days of the internet boom and uTube. Now they all looked like this. Lazy, obsessed with video games, and lacking most common sense. Ben began getting a little antsy.

"I said, MOVE IT BOY!" he said getting louder with a bit of a roar.

"I'm UP, geeeeze...." Jacob said yawning and rolling his eyes.

"No time for breakfast today kid, looks like one of th' Mole Man's old creatures has come up outta the ground down near the bay area. Time to stretch yer' legs and see if throwing rocks is gonna be enough or if ya gotta scrap with it mano e mano...." Ben instructed as the kid finished suiting up.

"What time is it even, uncle Ben?" Jacob asked sliding the sleeveless shirt on and putting on his gloves.

"IT'S CLOBBERIN' TIME, ROOKIE!" Ben shouted.

Minutes later...

Ben drove as close to the action in his custom car as he could before instructing the kid to run on foot. It was apparent by the sweating and heavy breathing the young man could use a little more cardio. After a few more minutes and fighting through the crowd of onlookers, the all new Thing came face to face with his first true test.



"Everybody get back, the good guy's here!" Jacob yelled at the citezens gathered around.

He used his geokinetic power to use rock and debris from the wrecked city street as projectiles. The display of power did little to impress the audience.

"Who's this kid supposed to be, Rock Boy?" one of the bystanders asked.

"The papers should totally call this guy the Stoner. I mean he's using powers to throw rocks at the monster instead of throwing cars or something. Lamest superpower EVER!" another teenage punk joked.

Jacob could hear the crowd's doubt in him. This wasn't even a real supervillain and he was having problems. He ran in close to throw a few punches and test the creature's scaly hide. Then after getting out of the creature's reach he used stone and rocky debris to create stone like hands to better strike the monster. Jacob could tell he was at least hurting the monster, as it roared in pain and smacked the young man through an already turned over taxi. The nearby punks were still joking about the hero's name.

"What about Hard Hands, you saw him go Rocky on him didn't ya with those fists?" one of the same kids from before joked before Jacob picked himself up.

With a crackle of blue energy every stone, rock, and small piece of pavement swirled around Jacob forming his full armor as well as a giant mace like weapon.

"I'm the all new THING!" he screamed now with a slightly altered and booming voice, "AND IT'S CLOBBERING TIME!" he continued jumping towards the beast and smacking it square in the jaw as his uncle pulled up and got out of his car.

"That battle cry wasn't even cool in the 80's..." one of the punks said as the original hero came up behind them.

"I don't think it sounded bad, kid." Ben Grimm joked as the young punk all but wet himself.

"This new guy's stealing your name gramps." the other punk mentioned.

"I actually gave it to him..." Ben said looking on as his nephew wrecked the monster and beat it into submission.

~KL~

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The Prince of Lies hadn’t actually gotten very far from the Sanctum Sanctorum when his afternoon amble was disturbed. Disturbed here being a very mild way of describing how his stroll was interrupted by the sky above going from a calm summer blue to sullen winter grey in the space of a heartbeat, foreboding black storm clouds gathering above New York in a roiling tempest, threatening the mother of all monsoons. Rain did not come, thank God, but the clouds lit up with jagged streaks of lighting, and seconds later the firmaments exploded with an eardrum shattering kra-cooom! Nearby New-Yorkers threw their hands over their ears, squealing in pain or shock, while simultaneously running for cover from the deluge they were sure was to come. None kept the wherewithal about them to spot the small black dot emerge from the cloud cover and fall from the heavens.

None except Faen.

He watched the object fall faster and faster, realising with sudden clarity that it was going to come down somewhere nearby, no more than a block away. Without wasting anymore time he took off in the direction of where he estimated it was going to come down, his chest tight with excitement. He had a pretty good idea of just what, or more specifically who, the visitor from the skies was, and he wanted to be the first to say ‘welcome back’ when they touched down.

It seemed the storm-rider was going to land in an alleyway, and Faen was just around the corner when he heard the thump of impact. Not the most auspicious of places for the Thunderer’s grand return, but then, who was Faen to complain, he was living in a motel under a freeway that was so filthy that even roaches thought twice about staying overnight.

He turned the corner at breakneck pace, words spilling from him before he’d even gotten a good look at the God of Thunder.

“THOR! YOU’VE FINALLY – hold on a moment, you’re not Thor …” His race came to a screeching halt in the face of the strange-looking interloper he had taken for Earth’s absentee Asgardian guardian. The beast certainly wore Asgardian inspired armour, though it seemed to have been designed by an arts student who had watched far too much Tron, and it carried a golden hammer, though that was the sum total of similarities between it and Thor. It’s face was long and equine, clearly alien, though it had the body of a man, just much, much larger. It took Faen a moment to realize who he was looking at, remembering the horse-man from decades old vids from the Avengers early adventures. “Wait, I know who you are. You’re Beta Ray Bill. What on earth are you doing here?”

On closer inspection Faen realised that someone had put Bill through the ringer. His armour was shattered in places, and his fine cape was torn into tatters. His hammer still looked undamaged, though it was coated in a red-brown substance that looked suspiciously like dried blood. There was one uncomfortably large looking wound in the alien’s side that was leaking blood, and another across his jawline. The look of him made the Lokison incredibly nervous. Bill was supposed to be as tough as Thor, maybe even tougher. Whoever did this to him must have been an unbelievably powerful individual, and if they were anywhere nearby Faen might be in some serious trouble.

Bill’s injuries were obviously making him sluggish, slow even, and it took him a long moment to realize he wasn’t alone, even longer for him to focus in on the half-breed Jotun. Though when he did his eyes narrowed and he raised his hammer high, not quite the reaction Faen had been hoping for.

“Loki!” the hammer-wielder growled, his voice husky and low, “I may be laid low, but I still have mettle enough to deal with a snake such as you!” Before Faen could say a word in his defence the alien took a lurching step forward, stumbled, fell onto his face, and straight into unconsciousness. Only then did Faen see the massive wound on his back, the normally brown flesh burnt near black, looking more like an overly charred steak than someone’s healthy skin. Something had hit Bill, and hit him hard.

The Lokison stood in silence for a moment, before stepping forward and kicking Bill in the side, none to gently, to see if he really was out. He was.

“Well … Fuck.”

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After the undesired meetup with Mystique and her two lackeys, the group traveled for a bit to a quiet location where they wouldn't be interrupted. They had blindfolded Alex and used the telekinesis' ability to carry him so that he wouldn't be able to tell where they went. When they removed the blindfold, Alex looked around noting that they were in a very dark room despite the the little sunlight bleeding through the roof. Alex could smell saltwater but nothing else really to indicate where they might be. Alex looked to Mystique remembering the few times he'd seen her. She was a horrible person that had been a thorn in the side of the X-Men for so long that made him wonder if she even recognized who he was. If she did that also brought up the question on why to approach him. "What do you want with me?"

"No need to get hostile. Just because you consider me an enemy doesn't mean I am. If I remember correctly you're the one who abandoned your family." That comment just made Alex pissed. She did remember him. Including the part about how the X-Men were basically his family. He was about to verbally lash out at her but realized she was probably just trying to rile him up. He let out a breath of air and said, "I didn't abandon them. I just know they wouldn't agree with what I'm doing." Mystique smiled at him and said, "Oh, and what could that be? Could it happen to be freeing your friends. The ones weak enough to be taken by those scummy saps at Breytech. You know you should just forget about them. They're weak. Just work with us and destroy Breytech altogether."

Alex jumped up producing his Kendo stick and held it near her temple. The two lackeys moved to attack, but Mystique motioned for them to stand down. "They aren't weak. And for your information they grabbed me to." Mystique grabbed a hold of the Kendo stick and lowered it away from her head saying, "But you got away and are currently fighting them without being captured." Alex sighed and put away his weapon then sat down saying, "Look, I'm all for eliminating anyone who works for Breytech, but I have to make sure that everyone is safe before I do that. Now, what did you want from me?"

Mystique held her hand out to one of the lackeys who produced a file handing it to her. Mystique laid the dossier onto the table they were sitting at and said, "That right there is what I need you for. The dossier has information on a rouge member of the Brotherhood of Mutants that betrayed us. He's planning on attacking a government facility that houses some especially dangerous members of our kind." Alex picked up the dossier and started reading it when he responded, "What does that have to do with me? All it sounds like is he's doing something similar to me."

"There's a difference. Breytech doesn't pose as much a threat as the U.S. military. Some politicians are waiting for a reason to reactivate the Sentinels. If a large number of the most dangerous mutants escape the military the rest of us will be put in danger." Alex smirked, "That doesn't sound like you. I would expect you to help him. Instead you are abandoning some of our kind to rot." Mystique quickly backhanded Alex hard throwing him out of his chair. "Don't speak to me like that, boy. Some of the prisoners there are strong enough to destroy an entire state. Including our own kind living there." Alex stood up with a grin on his face. It was always fun to make people mad. "Fine then. What do you want me to do?" Mystique stood up saying, "I want you to kill him."