Alarms blared throughout the Liberty as the portals were opening above New York. Steve rushed into the command centre, shield on his back. "Status update!

Jimmy Woo rushed past handing Steve his tablet, as Jimmy continued to rush back to another station he shouted over the organized chaos of the command center. "We've got portals forming above various boroughs of New York, alien attacks in Queens and Brooklyn. We also have a Dominator ship coming through a portal down on Manhattan-"

Steve raised his hand, interrupting Jimmy to speak. "Who do we have on the ground?" Steve scrolled through the incoming data, the aliens in Brooklyn seemed to be low level, for now. As were the ones in Queens.

"She-Hulk is in Times Square dealing with a T-Rex, Superboy, and an unknown Spider-Hero are attending Brooklyn. Nobody in Queens yet."

Steve nodded along, all the data that he had on his tablet was agreeing with everything Jimmy said. "Focus on the Dominator ship that's the biggest threat, dispatch teams in Quinjets evenly to evacuate civilians-" He turned to Deputy Director Brand. "-Liaise with NYPD and the National Guard. Activate whatever emergency powers you need to. The NYPD should focus on evacuation and protecting civilians. Have the Guard backup our own teams on the ground." He turned back to Woo. "Bring the carrier to within firing range of the Dominator ship, we want to keep it from making contact with the ground. Keep it and the portal suppressed. I don't want anything else coming through."

"Sir-"

"Yes Agent?"

"What are you going to be doing?"

"I'm going to be on the ground."

Steve tapped the commlink in his left ear three times.

---

"WALL!"

Janet Van Dyne smacked into brick, spiralled her arms and fell into a back alley. "Huh what huh what huh what what?!" She sputtered, putting a hand on her mask as if to hold her hurt nose. Baffled, the wings attached to her suit vibrated with nervous energy. One minute, she was flying through the red skies if the microcosmic planetoids of Homeworld, the next, she flattened herself against a very familiar looking alleyway!

"This is...this is...New York! NYC! The Big Apple! I can't believe it- I'm home, I'm really home!" The Winsome Wasp jumped for joy, celebrating wildly. Then she dropped into a thinking position, cupping the chin of her mask. "But why? Why now? After all these months?" Squinting, she noticed she was casting a shadow straight beneath her, even though the entire alley was shielded from the sun. Glancing upwards, Jan noticed...

"Einstein's ghost! Someone's ripped the up the rug of the space-time continuum!" A few feet above her, a rift had opened. Fluttering uptowards it, The Wasp produced a handheld scanner. The readout on the inside of her mask began telling her all sorts of things. Fluctuations in the surface of the universe. The surprisingly fragile fabric of the universe was folding in over itself. In short? "Bad News with a capital N! Portals are opening up all over the boroughs. Queens, Manhattan, Brooklyn!" Janet slapped the side of her helmet in silver-age alarm.

"<Janet? Earthling? What has happened? Are you well?>" A vibrating voice called out in a very strange language. Janet peered into the portal and saw the green-skinned, red-eyed humanoid named G'nark that she had called her friend for the last few months.

"<G'nark!>" Jan replied in the same language. "<Don't step through the portal! I've got good news and I've got bad news. The Good news is, I'm home! The Bad news is, these portals are extremely unstable. I'm probably only here because of my suit. I have to close all of them as fast as possible! Thank you for being so good to me all this time, G'nark!>" She waved.

"<I see.>" He replied, eyes widening. "<Well, then. It was a pleasure to have you, Winsome Wasp. As you say: good luck! May the Synchronisity unite our paths again.>" G'nark said.

"<Hey yeah, you got it, pal! Life's nothin' but a bunch of goodbyes, anyway!>" She smiled. "<So long!>" With a playful salute, she shot out of frame. G'nark began to assemble a team of his men to close off the influence of the rift on his side of the cosmic line, to ensure it's chaotic influence didn't bring even more harm to his microcosmic realm. This was the Hank Pym situation all over again.

A moment later, Janet peaked her head into view of the portal again. "<G'nark.>" She said, solemn. The Homeworlder turned in her direction. "<Tell Hank I'm sorry things worked out the way they did. I wish him well. I'm sure he could be a great Ant-Man again...someday.>"

G'nark wasn't sure if he agreed with her assessment. But if there was one thing that consistently proved true about Janet Van Dyne, it was her faith in people. So he nodded, intent to pass the message along. Having already said goodbye, Janet nodded back and vanished out sight for good.

Janet buzzed out of the alley and soared over the skyline. She gasped as she saw pure chaos descending upon New York! The Dominators were back! Didn't they just kick their sorry asses a couple years ago? She supposed these forces were probably being pulled from another time. At the very least, it wasn't a full invasion force. No doubt other troubles were spilling in through the portals. Though she held out a little hope that the Intergalactic Tea Party Coalition was infesting Queens instead of some other threat she couldn't see yet, Janet wasn't counting on it.

"This has to be an accident. There's nothing deliberate about these convergences. And of course, no invader would willingly summon the Winsome Wasp to challenge them! Haha!" The Wasp pocketed her readout device and pressed a button on her wrist. That activated the neural link that connected her mind to her suit, giving her full control over all the aspects of her suit.

With a spin, she zoomed off towards Time Square to face the Dominators. Now, with all this madness going on, the best thing to do would be to find the source of these rifts and shut them off! Though she could be useful in the field, it might be even more beneficial for her to stop by a research team and plug her readouts into a big ol' computer! At the very least, they had to triangulate the biggest ones in order to deduce the source. Thinking of this while flying, she attempted to contact Avengers, or SHIELD.

When she reached for her Avengers beeper and began to fiddle with it in order to contact HQ, she didn't have access. Her beeper was outdated! Had they changed the passwords already? She'd only be able to broadcast on public signals, which were probably all jammed up from the chaos. That would be no good. It seemed then, that her best bet would be to find an Avenger and start coming up with a plan! They'd also probably be happy to see her after her short little vacation. Hopefully no one was worried about her!

Little did Janet know, had anyone been looking right at her and Hank as they plunged through that unstable portal, it looked like the pair were totally disintegrated! Biometrics picked up zilch. GPS? Nada. Not even Ant-Man or the Wasps's own tech, designed to find them at microscopic sizes, could pick them up. As they travelled through a portal that the Wasp overloaded, with a dramatic explosive finish..? And then about a decade of silence? Well, it would make sense for anyone to assume little miss Van Dyne had finally bitten the big one. It'd be stupid to assume she hadn't! Janet Van Dyne really hadn't thought through all the implications of her re-arrival. The only thing that saved her was probably her own bodies natural infusion of quantum particles. It was a 50/50 chance that Schrodinger's Janet turned up alive, and, luckily for her, it had turned up tails. Or in this case, stinger!

Protecting civilians was always priority number one, but when the space-time continuum was in trouble, heroes could play keepaway with the threats all day long as they just kept pouring in. Eventually, the bad guys would win. That's why you always had to press the big red button the baddies never wanted you to press. The one that said 'emergency shutdown' or 'self-destruct sequence' or 'drop piñata'.

Her first goal was to visit all three portals and get the co-ordinates and quantum readings of each. After doing that, she should hypothetically be able to zero in on the source. From what her readout was telling her, each portal was from a different time period and location. Thus, they were being attracted here, not propelled from somewhere else. If this was a purposeful attack, all of the portals would be from the same time and place.

First up- Times Square. A populated area, with two timelines converging. To be honest, this entire crisis was kind of in her wheelhouse. She and Pym were Earth's leading scientists on space-time manipulation.

Wasp emerged into a Times Square thrown into panic. She looked from the T-Rex, to the spaceship, and then back again. "Where's Jeff Goldblum when you need him?"

Needless to say, this T-Rex had to go. Out of the corner of her eye, Janet spotted- hey, that was She-Hulk! Already on the scene, as usual. Even though it hadn't been that long since Janet had seen Jenny, it was still a relief to see her again.

But a hello could wait. The Wasp had a T-Rex to stop! The poor thing must be confused and angry as all get out, but it was a big hazard. Reaching into what she affectionately called her Hammerspace Pouch, Wasp produced a small circular device with a glowing blue light.

It was actually the technology in the suit that allowed her to maintain super strength while both big and small. If anyone without specialized equipment got shrunk or expanded, it wouldn't be nearly as useful. Which was why as the T-Rex roared into the sky, no doubt percieving threats all around it, the Wasp tapped a button on the device. Holding it in one hand, she stuck up her thumb and levelled her index finger at the dinosaur.



Though they hadn't rung through New York in many years, Janet thought the sound effect was quite iconic and memorable. A high pitched, zippy sort of noise, the Stinger fired shots out of Wasp's finger tip. They literally sounded like 'pew pew' noises, and despite being deadly weapons had an unmistakable charming sci-fi air about them. Little yellow bolts peppered the T-Rex, causing it to flinch and angrily look up in her direction.

"Alley-oop!" Wasp swooped in underneath the ancient beast, skidding underneath it feet first. Coming to a stop, she curled up into a ball, and willed herself to expand, kicking upwards with the flat of her feet. For a brief moment, Janet was as tall as the T-Rex itself. The T-Rex was launched dozens of feet into the air like it had bounced on a massive trampoline, it's little limbs and big tail flailing helplessly. Wasp regained her normal size and zoomed up to meet the T-Rex in midair, at the zenith of it's ascension. Buzzing to it's back, she slapped to blue device there and tapped a button, activating it manually. There was a sound like an electric zipper being pulled shut, and the T-Rex shrunk to the size of a little baby chicken. Wasp reached out and plucked it from the air before it could fall. Her shrinker device had shrunken as well, and had expended all of its energy. She'd need to visit her old lab to get it back to normal size and re-charge it.

Smiling, she held the T-Rex up to her face. "Say, now that you can fit in the palm of my hand, you're actually pretty cute! I'm gonna name you Reptar." She stroked the top of Reptar's head to soothe him. She didn't have time to soak in her victory or the glory with the fleeing civilians so she quickly buzzed on down to meet her old friend Jennifer Walters, otherwise known She-Hulk.

"I take a little summer vacation and New York's already falling apart again. I don't know what you guys would do without me, haha!" Janet Van Dyne chirped in her usual, unflappable comedic tone. She tapped a button on her visor and the metal mask snapped back into the rest of her yellow and black helmet, revealing her bright face and toothy grin. Ten years later, and she looked like she hadn't aged a day. Well, she'd aged about four months. So the only difference was her suit had a new, alien looking gizmo on her hip.

But her reappearance combined with the Dominator's re-emergence confirmed one thing- it really was 2010 all over again.

The homemade grill made from salvaged stone and scrap metal sent plumes of black smoke up into the air.

The rooftop of the Bed-Stuy apartment block was covered in deck chairs. Young children ran around with communal supervision.

"That tar's starting to become a problem again." One of Clint's neighbours said to him. Lifting his shoes, and showing a fair amount of the black muck sticking to the soles of his shoes.

"Add it to the list. How's that antenna I rigged up going for you, Mrs Phelps?" He called out to an older woman sitting in a deckchair.

She held up a thumb. The neighbour gave it a glance and saw the tangled mess of aluminum, coathangers, screen door cuttings, for some strange reason a bicycle wheel, and numerous arrows cobbled together which gave off more of a look of some kind of avante-garde art sculpture than any kind of functional transmission device. With a thought, he settled for wiping off the black tar on a loose brick.

"Good to hear, Mrs Phelps." Clint turned some steaks and a few of the more charred sausages.

"Mister Barton?" One of the kids pulled on the edge of his "Kiss the Cook" apron.

"Hmm..?"

"Momma told me not to normally bother you..."

"Good advice, kid." He turned some more meat, some of the more raw sausages spat juices. He winced away from the splash.

"But she also said that you fix the problems, if we really need any kind of help."

"Also true..."

"Well, I think this might be one of the problems that it's worth bothering you for." He tugged the edge of his apron again, in a gesture to get him to look.

Hawkeye turned and took in the whole vista.

"Well... Shit..."

Portals riddled the sky. Over Manhattan he could see the Dominator ships that so threatened the world years ago. Distant portals depositing something impossibly far away to distinguish over Queens. Another nearby portal deposited a giant beast, that seemed to lope through the sky like some kind of lethargic dragon-worm... thing. The gentle sizzle of the meat was drowned out by a primal roar from some beast unseen further within the depths of inner Manhattan.

"Bump this to the front of the list?" The neighbour looked over his shoulder, taking a bite out of a chicken leg.

"This is going to take a Hell of a lot more arrows than just a simple antenna..."

---

H A W K E Y E
H A W K E Y E

_{SEASON ONE Sensation & Wonder - @Zoey Boey@Kyoka}

---

Hawkeye squinted to provide what little protection from the wind-sheer he could get as his Sky-Cycle cut it's path through the sky towards Manhattan. He suited up as fast as he could, donned the cowl, the tunic, the rest... and by the time he'd finished his neighbours had told him some powerhouse punk kid in a leatherjacket had beat all Hell out of the biggest threat he'd originally identified. The monstrous floating dragon-worm thing. So he decided instead to make his way across the East River to Manhattan. These Dominators had been a problem before. If they were truly back, it was unlikely their force would remain as small as it initially seemed to be.

Perhaps they'd found allies? It seemed strange, though that they hadn't yet come in force. Didn't seem like them to burn the element of surprise on such a small initial invasion force.

Still, wasn't Clint's place to understand the thinking of aliens.

Clint touched down in prime location, in front of a billboard on the top of Howard Johnson's overlooking all of Times Square.

The ship touched down and the aliens alighted, assembling around some sort of leader figure shrouded in a cloak.
It's yellowed skin contrasting richly with a large red circle which adorned its forehead.

It screeched some form of battle speech for the soldiers under its command, each adorned with far smaller red circles, sharp teeth and large weapons. It's rhetoric must have been effective, though, as its troops seemed to be positively stirred as it contiuned to buoy their spirits with unintelligible screeching, whipping them up int a fervour with a crescendo of--

THWIP

An arrow with a specific metallic head imbedded itself in the middle of the red circle of the leader's head.

The soldiers all turned to see where it came from! Who dared to disrespect glorious leader with--!

"Wait for it!"

Their leader suddenly let out an anguished screech, causing the soldiers to all turn back and gasp as their superior convulsed on the pavement, the latest victim to Hawkeye's taser arrow.

He called out from above the Howard Johnson's. "That's better. I didn't want you to get the level of disrespect out of context or anything. I didn't want you to think I was just trying to shut him up. No. I wanted to see him drop and twitch until he wet himself and his pretty green cloak."

He nocked three arrows and launched them into the throng of alien invaders. Then another three. Then another.

"As for the rest of you... The M & M store's closed..." Another trio of arrows. "We're not doing intergalactic tourists today. You're not missing anything..." More arrows. "Letterman doesn't do his show anymore. So single file back in your ship..."

From the corner of his eye he saw a familiar green heroine, and an unrecognised diminutive friend.

"Hey, Shulkie! Have at it. These guys are great! They come with bullseyes on their heads and everything..."

“I can’t keep doing this, Pete. May and I have called every hospital in New York... The Bugle even reached out...”

A fifteen second pause followed. Peter rested his head against his wall as he sat in his own bed, his whole body aching for more rest. But he just listened as MJ’s exhausted voice continued. “You need to update your emergency contacts. Don’t bother trying to reschedule brunch-”

Peter lowered his phone from his ear, effectively cutting off MJ’s final words as he squeezed the lock button and tossed his cell phone a couple feet onto his desk. He had already listened to the voicemail twice. He couldn’t bear to listen to it a third. He rolled his legs off the side of the bed as he rubbed the back of his neck. He twisted his torso to stretch, feeling the stiffness in his chest. Even with a healing factor, he wasn’t back to full strength. He needed to get back in touch with SHIELD, see if they had any leads on where Doc Ock and the others went into hiding. Police reports showed a few blown transformers in West Harlem on the same day, and Peter had a sneaking suspicion that meant Electro rounded out the cabal of spider-haters at five. Even if he couldn’t put on the suit, he needed to keep working. It was only a matter of time before…

Above the city, the Wayne Enterprises satellite complied with the commands of David's program. Altering its angle, the orbiting relay targeted the city below and began to emit three pulses towards the city below. High above Manhattan, a portal began to take shape just as it had moments ago in Chilton's 'lab'. The horrifying screech of a Dominators ship echoed above Times Square as it emerged from the portal only to be drowned out by the roar of a very much not extinct tyrannosaurus rushing towards the bustling crowds.

A second pulse illuminated the nearby horizon as a second portal opened above Brooklyn. An unearthly roar echoed across the skyline as a giant worm-like beast flew through. Armour was grafted onto its body and as it neared the city, pods departed from its side revealing another alien race within. Descending upon Brooklyn, the aliens began to fire indiscriminately. Above the borough, the portal closed again, before opening in the distance.

Above Queens, a third portal opened. Screams filled the air, but not from the city below but instead the sky above as numerous, small, green goblin-like aliens were dropped to the city below. Panic engulfed New York as the portals continued to open and close above the city, hostiles and friendlies alike from different times and universes descended upon New York all while Chilton watched with horror from the window of his home. Watching the goblin-like aliens run through his yard, David ran back towards the closet.

There was no way he was sticking around here to see how this all ended.

_{Location: Lower East Side, Manhattan - New York City}

Multiversal Mayhem #1.01: You won’t even show up

---

Spider-Man launched out of his Lower East Side Apartment as he watched large portals open up in the sky above. His heart sank as he saw the all too familiar Dominator ship in the sky overhead. He fired off a webline and let his momentum carry him up above the neighboring rooftop, giving him a glimpse of the portals opening up elsewhere around the city. He swallowed a gasp, and tapped his ear over his mask to tune into the police scanners.

“We’ve got Dominators over Central Park. We need units to evac-”

“-An alien… whale is flying above Brooklyn-”

“-Little Green Men in Queens, I repeat-”

“Officer Mahoney is reporting a dinosaur in Times Square, I repeat, a dinosaur in Times Square.”

Spider-Man swung up and planted himself against the side of the Empire State Building, turning his gaze slowly turning due North as he heard a screeching roar echo through Manhattan. He turned his gaze up towards the Dominator ship, and then back down towards Times Square. His gaze turned upwards to look at the Liberty in all its glory, weapons hot and ready to face down the Dominator ship. He looked out at the city as hundreds of thousands of voices cried out in fear, only some of them reaching Peter’s ears. And as he watched quinjets mobilizing out of the helicarrier and three portals open over New York, he tapped the comlink in his ear.

”Kelso, I need a pickup to Liberty. Pinging my location.”

Within only moments, a familiar jet came swooping in with the bay door open long enough for Spider-Man to jump in, pressing a button to let it close behind him. He walked up towards the cockpit, nodding towards the pilot as she shook her head. ”It’s not like you to run to safety.”

”I’m not… the Liberty just happens to have the equipment I need to figure out who’s making these portals. I’m not just a pretty face.” He tried to give a reassuring nod, and taking relief as Kelso didn't ask any more questions. He couldn't lie a second time.

The quinjet quickly flew up to the deck of the Helicarrier, and Peter darted out of the back of the jet and immediately down a service stairwell in the ship, jumping down the middle of the stairwell to skip a few floors. He quickly fired off a net of webbing to catch himself, and slipped through the door into one of the middle floors of the ship. His torn costume caught a couple confused looks as Spider-Man rushed past various SHIELD personnel as he slipped into Laboratory Beta. A few scientists were busy securing their work in anticipation of hostile engagement. But right now, they didn’t matter. What did matter was the supercomputer at the far end of the lab, which Peter was dashing towards. He sat down in the primary operator’s station and quickly began tapping away at the keyboard, the holographic display buzzing to life.

Peter started with the obvious: satellite imagery and traffic footage from a variety of angles with vantage points of the skies over Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens. Peter’s eyes darted over the various camera feeds, watching them all play on loop of the same minute of footage as he tapped the best angles in the holographic display, letting them pop out until he had six clear views of the anomalous event’s origin. He watched as images clearly showed beams of energy firing down into the atmosphere above New York, and sighed as he cracked his knuckles. “Alright… now comes the fun part.”

---

Surface-side, Cindy was presented with an update to the carnage that those portals were causing. Scorch marks pattered exterior walls, smoke billowed from broken windows, and people scurried or sadly lined the streets. The teenager tried to swallow her reservations in an attempt to steel herself. This was well beyond the petty crime that she day-dreamed about maybe stopping one day, but this was a city-wide war which was not exactly the easiest debut scenario. However, she saved those people in the subway, so she already made some difference. She wasn't sure how well she'd do against the horde of aliens that seem to be forming a destructive host. Thankfully, that group has moved on further down, but would she go out and engage them?

She needed to get her bearings and head for higher ground. It was also going to be a good test to see how she'd handle actually web-swinging. It should be just like the rafters in that warehouse, except you know, on a larger and much more frightening scale. She had taken a few falls and bumps from missing a mark before, but two stories falls at the most, mess up here and that would hurt. A lot. Pointing her index finger up to the top story of building across the street, she shot her recoilless thread of silk letting it fly until it suddenly jerked, signalling it had connected with a solid form. Cindy twisted her wrist and balled up the end of her web into her hand.

"Okay.. whew. You got this just like you practiced." She muttered encouragement to herself, psyching herself up. She began with an enhanced strength pull, her muscles were supercharged thanks to her powers, but her body mass remained the same. The end result was being able to send her tiny frame flying into the air. She twisted her torso to the side and fired another thread to the other side of the street, releasing her first thread and clinging to the second. She slowed in one direction, swinging now in the other direction, which was a bit of a slow first attempt. Spider-Man, from all those videos she saw, moved fast like this. How did he do it?

While the warehouse had given Cindy privacy to practice, it did not give her the necessary room to experiment with wide open spaces to gain any real speed. Maybe she should stick to the same side of the street? Her next thread was shot at the next building on the same side, she clung on noticing her speed was faster. That was good but she was way to close to th-Aaaah!

Cindy frantically fired a web to the other side of the street to try and move away from brick wall she was going to collide with but there wasn't enough time. She braced, turning her body as she impacted her shoulder into the brick column, bouncing off but still hanging onto her thread to keep her airborne. She spun, her momentum slowing as she reached an open palm out to use her grip to stick to the wall to catch herself, stopping for now.

"Ow..." She muttered, rolling her bruised shoulder. Releasing the thread for now, Cindy clung her hands and feet to the brick surface, and took a moment to compose herself. She was about halfway up the building, which was progress, but she had many lengths to go before this felt natural. What was she doing wrong? Funny that her parents' constant nagging to stay on top of her studies was going to pay off in an unexpected way. Physics just so happen to be her best class. She started to try and map out the physics of the problem but was interrupted by the sound of a nearby crash.

Cindy's head darted down the street towards the sound, seeing a badly burning building. It was falling? What if people were inside? Damn, she hadn't noticed it before, maybe because she was so tunnel visioned. She'd have to shake that habit if she ever wanted to be effective, or you know, keep your head still attached.

She was preparing to move when a figure emerged from the building. Distinct blue and red uniform sticking out but with that yellow coloring on the chest helping the emblem take shape, that had to be Superboy. Well, that, and he was flying like it was nothing, too. He was such a celebrity at this point, he might almost rival Spider-Man, here in terms of popularity. You'd probably even get those that would say Spider-Man could still take on Superboy in a fight and Cindy might have been one of those to claim that. Even if it was just blind fandom for her.

Focus. He's saving people as evidence by the man he placed down on the sidewalk before heading back in. Teaming up would be a good idea because Cindy had absolutely no idea what she was doing. There were team ups in the past with heroes, so maybe it wasn't so strange for her to say that. Well maybe it was. There were those that thought some of what heroes do was faked for publicity, since media did like to tightly control the narrative. I mean, the Daily Bugle is a fine example of- Aaah Cindy focus! Save people!

She was going to take it slow. Web-swinging from left to right, making her way down the street. The iconic thwarp sound coming from each time she shot a web. Halfway there and-uh oh.

Cindy didn't notice it at first as she was keeping an eye on Superboy but when his gaze went up, so did hers. A woman was now hanging on for her life. Superboy was occupied, clearly, as he had to move fast to that section of the building for some reason. Was it collapsing already? If so, then he had to hold it but then the woman might fall and-!!

The teenage webslinger suddenly felt a fire under her lit. She had to move and fast. Her next web she fired as far forward as she could, letting herself swing, then she pulled on the thread, launching herself airborne to continue. When she first started, she was clearing a building's length in a minute, but now she was soaring, unintentionally stumbling upon some correct moves. She still wasn't perfect, it wasn't as elegant as Spider-Man's, but she was moving with some speed now.

That woman just had to hold on for a moment longer. Cindy could make it in time, but then the woman suddenly dropped. "No!" Cindy was within range to fire a web at the burning building. She was swinging there but there were so many variables. Fall distance, speed, angle of her swing... Cindy's mind worked hard as she came swinging in. She made a few adjustments, pulling herself up on her thread to slow her momentum but at the cost of not swinging as far. Just like the pigeon eggs, she couldn't come at them too fast lest they break. The best time to catch them was at the Swing High point where momentum slowed, but Cindy wasn't sure of her own quick math and ended up leaping from her thread to try and collide with the woman in the air.

Cindy flung her arms out, impacted the woman and then wrapped herself around the other. It was, in a word... clumsy. While Cindy was fine, she certainly heard the woman grunt from the impact, hopefully not hurt too badly, but considering her panicked wails and the fact that her arms wrapped around Cindy's torso, she was still conscious. The pair began to free fall again but with Cindy aware, she out stretched one of her arms and fired a spray of webbing from all five fingers, to scatter anchor points across the building face. The pair jerked to a stop, Cindy's arm taking most of the strain as they swung towards the building. Sticking her feet out, Cindy let her feet hit the wall to catch them, protecting the woman from the building and allowing the pair to come to a stop.

"You okay?" Cindy huffed out of adrenaline. The woman whined and clung tighter, but Cindy could feel her head motion a nod. They had come to a stop by the third story of the building, Cindy noticed as she turned her head to see where they were. She spun more web to slowly lower towards the ground level. It was only until the woman's feet were on the ground that she let go. She profusely thanked Cindy but didn't keep her long, allowing her to pull herself back up the building towards Superboy.

Cindy clung to the wall a few yards away, glancing over to him. "You're fine holding that?" She inquired hastily, as her Spider-Sense began flaring this close to the fire. She had her sense refined due to her circumstance of being the only power she tried to express. She had over ten years to play with it, figuring out just how far she could use it. So while she couldn't see in side the smoky interior and through the walls, she could feel what it was like in there. It was like she had a projected map projected in the back of her mind and in that map she could sense the vibrations of movement like a trapdoor spider could sense the slight stirring of sand above her den. Inside the building there were more people, but she couldn't map out the entire building from here, it was limited in range.

"There are other people inside, but I don't know... I've never done this before." She confessed, realizing it was important for those people inside that the two saving them had all the facts. "What should we do next?"

Previously: The Caretaker and How Raven Got Her Wheels

Multiversal Mayhem Tie-In #1.

Raven
Ghost Rider

Seeing the UFO's attack in New York was a blast from the past. She had seen this on the news once before, well, one of the alien vehicles at least. It had sent the mighty Superman packing with its laser weaponry before he and his allies eventually managed to stop it. The young witch pulled on the cigarette in her mouth, filling her lungs with smoke as she walked the streets of Brooklyn, people fleeing all around her as the giant worm-like thing in the sky getting closer to her. She had left her bike a couple of blocks behind, realizing well and truly that this was a job to take on foot.

"Cinis in cinere" The witch chanted as the civilians ran past her, the smoke on the cigarette turned a deep blue, soon turning into a haunting purple as she continued to walk, the smoke pouring out of her mouth and encapsulating the entire street she was walking on, pathing around any of the human civilians making sure to keep out of their reach. In her gut, Raven felt worried. Her eyes focused on the people she hadn't been able to save - a woman and her husband laid buried under rubble, their souls already departed. In her, these emotions grew. While the daughter of darkness had spent her entire life choking down these feelings before, she was now liberated from that burden. Yet once again cursed to feel it all.

Her closed eyes shot open, the purple glow erupted from under her hood, the signature glow of the ex-Titan. The 500 or so forces of aliens that were running down on the street noticed her and her ocean of purple haze, turning their attacks and weaponry on her but it was far too late. For in all of those emotions Raven would find one thing for certain.

Power.

Echoing the same three words she had used when she cast the smoke spell, the smoke engulfed the horde, burrowing into their lungs and killing them from the inside. Ripping the life out of their lungs, the smoke set its sights on the being in the sky, the worm heading towards Raven. She turned around and flicked her hand, the smoke followed from behind her and carried her, forming the shape of a Corvus, passing through the space-worm doing the same to it it had to the men below it. Flying, Raven could clearly see the Dominator ship attacking the ground. It was firing its smaller blasters on a skyscraper full of civilians.

The daughter of darkness darted into the fray, using her magic to use her enchanted smoke to form a crow that shielded the building from the alien weaponry. The shield holding, she could clearly tell they were warming up their far bigger gun - the Superman-knocking-on-ass-kind.

"That's gonna become a problem. Everyone, duck!" She yelled, looking at the people behind her who were all shocked - yet relieved to no longer be under immediate mortal threat. Throwing her hands in front of her as the gigantic cannon fired, she enforced the shield, holding back the attack but getting pushed closer to the civilians she was trying to protect.

"Give in, Daughter Of Trigon. I'll destroy this threat to the innocent." The rider's touch on her soul whispered

"Shut up! You'd destroy the entire city" She yelled out loud, confusing the civilians who were close enough to listen.

"You are weakened from our fight against the necromancer Zarath. "

"Your fight! I was in the passenger seat. Now shut up and let me focus!" Raven shouted in a spurt of anger, the shield flaring up in size as the beam continued its steady barrage, the smaller cannons adding up. She had to stretch the bulwark outwards to protect as many civilians as possible - something the dominators noticed and they started using their secondary weaponry on the ship to target people who were fleeing.

"Metrion Zinthos!" The sorceress cried out, gathering her strength.

Her eyes glowing, she threw her hand to the ground, powered by unholy fervor, the witch pulled her hand up from the ground, summoning energy from underneath the city, as the concrete of the road under the ship was torn asunder. A storm of chains was pulled from the underground, grabbing a hold of the ship and yanking it sideways, stopping the firing of the beam at Raven, the shield went down as she began putting her focus on using the chains to restrain the ship.

Yet, she could feel her strength waning.

---

The significance of what Cindy was doing here hadn't quite hit her yet. Yes, she was saving people and that was great, but by assisting Superboy, a media darling, she was likely crossing the point of no return. People were recording this, through their phones and whatever followed Superboy around during the nightly news recaps. She had always wondered if they were staged, since how could there be a covenant camera everywhere this guy went?

Guess that didn't matter. She was a 'thing' now, a superhero that was going to get a name and the fact that she was Spider-themed would lead people to start talking. Who was this Spider-Girl, and how was she related to Spider-Man? A daughter? A lost sister? A secret love? The latter made Cindy's head spin and cheeks blush just thinking about it. No, she wasn't related to Spider-Man and with all the good and respect he has earned, she didn't deserve to tarnish that by adopting a similar moniker.

"No." Cindy abruptly replied, shaking her head at the mention of calling her Spider-Girl. She took one look at her arm, silken spider string wrapped around for her costume. "I'm Silk." She really needed a better costume if she was going to try and fill that void Spider-Man left. This one had served its purpose.

"Oh..." She had forgotten who she was talking to, but could he really hold the landmass of Brooklyn? Aaah focus! People. Saving. Up to her. The superhero now known as Silk, nodded enthusiastically, a smile hidden behind her web half mask. She was relieved that someone else made the call on what to do. It somehow felt easier to shoulder the burden of what she was about to. "I'll be fast!"

She scampered up to the next story and climbed through a broken window to get to work. The first thing that Cindy noticed was that the smoke was blinding, she couldn't keep her eyes open for long, the hot fumes drying her eyes too quickly. At least she had her Spider-Sense, laying out an instinctual map of the building. She could do this with her eyes closed if she wanted, letting a series of 'gut feelings' prevent her from running into a wall. She was well acquainted with the sense, but she still had to rely on her eyes, somewhat for a situation like, to determine what was a door and what wasn't.

Her mask was also apparently a decent filter against the smoke particulate that hung in the air, the moist adhesive threads capable of capturing the microscopic molecules that would have caused her to hack and wheeze. She had to make a note of that for the future. She still kept low in a slight crouch, running through the building to try and stay out of the smoke. Her Spider-Sense guided her along to find each of the remaining residents trapped inside. She'd wrap each person in her web to make a harness. Taking them to the nearest window, she'd lower them down before proceeding on. Hopefully they wouldn't mind figuring out how to remove that webbing later. She shaved some time by grouping a few people together to lower them at once, and lost time by having to lift some debris and even a whole strut off of a person.

When the last person was out, Silk crawled out to the exterior and gave Superboy a holler. "Hey!" She gave an enthusiastic thumbs up before swinging across the street to stay out of the way of the building collapsing. She turned, hanging on the wall of the building to watch the building collapse, but her gaze drifted to the people she in the crowd that she saved. Maybe there was something for her in this business after all. She smiled as one person turned and gave her a wave. She waved back.

Chaos was rampaging through the streets of Manhattan. A smaller Dominator vessel had touched down, word was already in that Hawkeye was on the scene and dealing with it. Quinjets descended on the city, dropping out agents and picking up civilians to take them to safety. Meanwhile, overhead the Liberty exchanged fire with the large Skull-shaped Dominator vessel, S.H.I.E.L.D F-35s and USAF F-18s zipped in and out the smaller Dominator ships exchanging bullets and missiles for laser and plasma.

Despite this, it distinctly felt as if they were losing ground. Reports coming in from Brooklyn and Queens were promising. A beam of energy came flashing down from above, a magic barrier appeared blocking it. Raven.

Down on the street, another ship landed troops running out onto the ground, firing weapons into the fleeing humans. Some aimed to stun, others to kill. It was entirely indiscriminate. As a bolt was racing towards a small child, out of nowhere a shield blocked the shot. The red, white and blue disc bounced impossibly off a nearby wall, up against a lampost, and then back to an extended arm. The silver-grey hairs stood impossibly neat on his head, the shadow of stubble on his chin and his dark navy suit revealing a physique that wouldn't look out of place on an athlete. Let alone a man of his age.

Running over to the child he knelt down, shield blocking incoming shots. "It's all going to be okay." Colonel Steve Rogers waved towards two police officers who were crouched behind a squad car exchanging shots with the Dominators. Still protecting her with his shield he picked her up and handed her to the officers. "They'll take you to safety-" Steve turned back to face the aliens, they recoiled slightly. The faintest look of recognition on their faces. "Now we've faced your kind before, so you'd best just head back to wherever you came from."

Steve stood facing them, shield in hand as they raised their weapons. Two grenades dropped among them, scattering them as Falcon performed a loop overhead, landing beside him. A man dressed in a Union Jack drew his sword as he took Steves side as a giant fist came crashing down on three Dominators, as a giant man shrunk back down to normal size, no longer a Goliath.

Black Widow dropped from a nearby rooftop, using her rappel to slow her descent as she took her place on the team.

As the Dominators raised their weapons and started to attack the team jumped to action, Steve ducked several bolts. Felt the heat of them sear past his body. Remember talking to Bruce Wayne about the perils of age. Steve had never actually worked with the team, he had always commanded it from the sidelines. Despite this, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of nostalgia, as he ducked and waved between the aliens. Blows from his first, feet and shield connecting with the alien flesh. The way they all worked together. Swinging the legs out from beneath one of the aliens he looked up as he noticed a second Skull ship approaching the portal, the dreaded booming sound shaking through the city.

Letting go of the Dominators throat he had in his hand, Steve raised his now free hand up to his earpiece. "This is Colonel Rogers. Send in the Green-Team."

She-Hulk: Multiversal Mayhem Tie-In #2
Location - Times Square, Manhattan, New York City, New York.
Interactions: @Zoey Boey @Hound55

---

For a moment She-Hulk couldn't believe it. 'Is that what I think it is?' she thought to herself, now it was by no means a day of regular and sane events, but this was taking things further than that. 'Well... Never punched a dinosaur I guess, time to tick one off thing off the bucketlist.' She-Hulk cracked her knuckles and she could not help but smile at the thought. 'Can't wait to tell Bruce about this one!'

However, as She-Hulk stepped out of the unfortunate building that she got thrown into. There was nothing there, at least nothing that she had been expecting, not in a million years. There was no big T-Rex posing in the middle of Times Square, ready to go on a rampage. Instead there was someone floating down to meet She-Hulk. Someone who should not have been there, could not have been there. She-Hulk's eyes widened in pure surprise. She felt her knees shake a little with the emotion that was beginning to grow within her. 'Is that...' her mouth hung open a little stupidly as she felt her brain scrambled.

The woman buzzing in the air, holding a tiny T-Rex said something to She-Hulk. Only half of it registered. As Janet Van Dyne's visor opened up to reveal her face, She-Hulk could not help but to tear up slightly. "J-Jan?" She-Hulk spoke as she did not believe her own words. Janet Van Dyne, the Wasp, was supposed to be dead. For years people tried to find any trace of her, they couldn't. She had been dead. After all these years, she was back. And she looked like she hadn't aged a day... Well She-Hulk couldn't judge anyone on that one, she hadn't aged a day either since that fateful blood transfusion.

She-Hulk blinked the tears from her eyes away and moved forward with a shaky smile which she hoped was more confident than she felt it was. 'I can't get caught up by this. This city is in danger. It needs to wait until after...' Even thinking this she doubted whether she could pull it off.

She-Hulk opened her mouth to say something, but before she could get anything out she heard Hawkeye calling to the two of them. 'What's going on here some kind of Old Avengers get together?' Truthfully though, that quip from Clint was very well welcomed at that moment. She didn't know how she would have handled this if it wasn't for that.

"Did you get the pet on the vacation Jan? Weird looking dog though, and something tells me it doesn't like me that much." She looked up towards where Clint was and yelled back a response.

"Hey don't worry about us! We'll be sure to get our licks in, just watch out for anything big and scaly will ya!" there was somewhat of an awkward tone.

Dominator ships and S.H.I.E.L.D ships seemed to crowd up more of the sky as another large skull Dominator vessel was making it's appearance among the rifts. She-Hulk clicked her tongue.

She looked back to Janet "Well Jan, what do you say? You and I got a lot of catching up to do but it's going to have to wait. Any kind of plan to deal with these creeps yet, otherwise I'm ready to get to smashing."

She-Hulk felt like she was forgetting something. Perhaps it was the Avengers communicator that she hadn't equipped due to all these surprises that have hit her one after another? Could be... Could be...

The American Dream is a lie.

I don't mean that in the quasi-socialist, Bruce Springsteen and John Mellencamp plight-of-the-working-class way.

I mean it never existed.

This nation wasn't founded with egalitarian ideals in mind. It wasn't founded for religious freedom. It wasn’t founded because of high taxes and low representation and all that other bullshit you’ve been spoon-fed in school. It was founded to be a kingdom for those with the wealth of kings and no land to rule. The New World would be theirs for the taking, a compact sealed in the blood of the Natives who had the audacity to call this land home before them. It was decided before the first shots were fired in Lexington and Concord, before the first treaties to the king, before the first chest of tea got chucked into the Boston Harbor, and even before the first anchor dropped off the New England coast.

The royalty of America? They used to have names like Bush, Kennedy, and Rockefeller. But they’ve been displaced by new names: Luthor, Polys, Musk, Bezos. The oil barons and slum lords have been replaced by the tech gods and “revolutionaries” who build their empires on the backs of minimum wage workers. They look like the bleeding edge, but make no mistake on where their loyalties lie. They are the oldest of the old guard, the powers that be, and the keepers of the status quo.

Over the past few years we’ve seen these men, because they are mostly men, command entire governments to do their bidding through political slush funds. Cops act as private armies and promote their interest. When the time comes that the cops can’t do enough, then the real private armies are broken out in the name of that oh so sacred American commandment: thou shall not destroy private property. The events of the last eighteen months have made it very clear how little regard for human life they have. We’re all just collateral damage in the ongoing crusade to expand profits and drive stock prices.

---

Hub City PD Deputy Commissioner Izzy O’Toole shook a cigarette out of the newly opened pack of Marlboro Lights. The wind of Lake Erie ripped down the alley O’Toole was standing in, sputtering the flame on his lighter out. O’Toole cursed and struck it up again. When he did, he saw a familiar figure looking at him from across the alley.

“Question: What did the pastor name his cigarette company?”



“Answer: Holy Smokes.”

O’Toole ignored the joke and instead blew a thick column of smoke into the air. The faceless man -- The Question -- kept his hands in his trench coat pockets. O’Toole had made his way up the police force through the detective bureau, and had become an expert at reading people. But this man was, pun intended maybe, a real blank when it came to anything. Not just facial cues, but also body language. He knew how to make himself an unreadable tome when it came to thoughts and intentions.

“Heard you got mixed up with some sort of gun runners the other night,” said O’Toole. “No deaths, but twelve arrested and six sent to the ICU.”

“I'm sorry it wasn't more.”

The Question reached into his trench coat. He pulled out a thick manila folder packed with papers.

“And the men I took down were more than just gun runners. They’re front line soldiers for the ‘Ndrangheta. They’re like if the American Mafia were run by Fortune 500 CEOs. They diversify their market share and dabble in everything from trafficking humans, to labor fraud, to loan sharking stockbrokers. They’re worth more than most country’s GDPs.”

He held up the thick folder and shook it.

“And they've found a nice toehold in Hub City. The guys I took down the other night I’d been tracking over the last six months. This is evidence, plenty to take them down and make them stay down.”

O’Toole took the hefty folder from The Question and tucked it under his arm.

“Jesus, it's as thick as a fucking brick,” said O’Toole. “You ever heard of a USB drive?”

“I’m not a fan of electronic data storage. For all the talk of the cloud and encryption, nothing is more hacker-proof than a piece of paper stored in a locked file cabinet.”

“I’ll see what I can do with this.”

The Question grunted. “If my theory is right, it’ll do very little.”

It was O’Toole’s turn to grunt in reply. The Question may have been nuttier than squirrel shit, but he was right about how justice in Hub City worked. If these gun smugglers were as connected as The Question claimed, a slick lawyer would waltz into the courtroom and get them a sweetheart bail. They’d jump it, of course, and disappear back to Europe never to be seen again.

“But there’s more in that folder than just info on ‘Ndrangheta, Deputy. There’s also evidence showing ties to gun running operations and ‘Ndrangheta arms dealers through Eastern Europe and the Middle East and a private military company once called Blackstar… since rebranded as Thornguard.”

That gave O’Toole pause. He raised an eyebrow at The Question.

“A PMC with shady ties isn’t anything new.”

“But a PMC with shady ties, the same PMC who now run day to day operations of Lemire State Penitentiary, a PMC whose shady business partners just so happens to be quietly opening shop here in Hub City. There are no coincidences, O’Toole. It’s all connected.”

O'Toole raised an eyebrow. “It’s not paranoia if they’re out to get you, right?”

“Just read the files, Deputy,” The Question said as he started down the alley. “Follow the money and question everything.”

---

There will come a time in our world where our governments will fail us, either by design or catastrophe. And on that day, the corporations will swoop in to fill the gap they left behind. A plan nearly fifty years in the making will come to fruition on that day. The decline and inevitable failure of our government institutions is a much bigger game than repealing laws and gerrymandering districts. It’s been a systematic neglect that's lasted for decades, all orchestrated to erode the power the government has and the peoples trust in it. They talked about the new world order in the 90’s like it was some abstract boogeyman, but it’s here. And it's always been here. You want to know what the new world order is? It’s not the Bilderberg Group, or Bohemian Grove, or the FreeMasons. The new world order is Disney and Apple, it’s Lexcorp and Amazon. The companies and products that have an iron hold on your day to day life. They’re weaving a net even now, linking commerce and politics with crime and corruption. It’s happening in front of our very eyes, slowly and surely and completely under the radar. And when the time comes and the net is dropped, we all end up entangled in its uncaring capitalistic snare. Long live our corporate overlords.

My name is Vic Sage, and I’m asking you to question authority, question your reality, Question Everything.

---

Janet raised her eyebrows, though her smile didn't waver as Jennifer Walters reacted a little stronger to her presence than Janet had anticipated. "Well hey, I missed you too! Reptar here is a bit agitated, he just needs some food. Non-people food." The Wasp joked, perhaps a bit tactless. Fortunate that nobody was already eaten by this thing. It felt good to be back alongside her friend. The Wasp turned and waved to Hawkeye, an ex-Avenger. Her memories of the incident were a big foggy, but she remembered him saving her from a hypnosis attack back in the day.

"Yeah, just keep plinking away, you traitor!" She yelled back over to him, jokingly. Dominators were arriving all the time, but so were more Avengers. No doubt at least a few of them had been diverted by other threats, but a sizeable amount of them would need to deal with this Dominator warship, and it's sub ships. The Wasp warmed up her available Stinger, still holding the T-Rex in one hand. "Let's Walk and Talk." This was what Janet said when she was going to be rattling off ideas while simultaneously engaged in a life and death battle.

No matter where She-Hulk went, The Wasp would keep pace as she talked, including finishing off and blasting enemies She-Hulk had crushed, smashed, or thrown into the air like target practice. She'd also support She-Hulk against ranged fighters that needed to be closed in on.

"All right, She-Hulk. I do have a plan.Step one: Admire the dramatic entrances of my fellow superheroes." She glanced over her shoulder as lasers were blocked with magic, and SHIELD aircraft soared overhead. She zapped a few surpressive Stinger shots at some distant Dominator foot soldiers, causing them to duck.

Spinning around, she landed firmly on the ground, no longer hovering. One of the red-eyes invaders turned to fire, but she sliced right through the barrel of his gun with her glowing Stinger hand, and then heel-kicked him firmly in the torso, sending him breathless to the ground.

"Step dos: get the quantum co-ordinates of all three portals. To do that, I gotta fly right up to them and give 'em an ol' techno scan for a few moments." She tapped a gizmo attached to her hip. "Once I have the co-ordinates, we'll know exactly where the cause of these portals are. This isn't an invasion- it's a time and space mishap! I know unstable portals when I see 'em!" Janet said, referring to the time she literally fell directly into an unstable portal.

One Dominator fired some shots at The Wasp from behind the fighting She-Hulk. Wasp zipped behind She-Hulk for cover, and then smoked the bastard with her pew pew laser. "Step three: You gimme that communicator so I can tell everybody what my plan is! I still have mine, but it's apparently already out of date." She said. Frantically, she smacked her earpiece. "I feel deaf over here, Green Jeans!"

Reptar the Tiny T-Rex seemed to have calmed down, too confused and with no ability to do anything, he had no more energy to be panicked or angry."I also gotta find someone to babysit Reptar." She added. "I'll need both hands if I'm gonna do science stuff on the bad guys."

_{Location: The Liberty - New York City}

Multiversal Mayhem #1.02: Cracking the Code

---

Twenty thousand miles above Earth’s orbit, Oculus 12 was a rather unassuming satellite that served a singular purpose: surveillance. While some of the other SHIELD satellites were focused on observing space for incoming threats and others created a network of cameras that could scan most of the planet in real time, the Oculus 12’s eyes were focused on some of those hunks of junk floating over everyone’s heads. It was a spy satellite, in that it was designed to spy on the other satellites hovering over the Eastern seaboard. As a certain scientist in Queens spilled coffee over his keyboard, the Oculus 12’s cameras picked up an anomalous event originating from a Wayne Enterprises satellite in geosynchronous orbit. The anomaly: a sudden, unplanned repositioning of its relay.

Spider-Man almost missed the clues as he was cycling through the dozens of anomalies generated by the movement of debris through middle to low earth orbit. It wasn’t until Peter was just about to click away that he saw a small beam of light emit from the satellite. His eyes scanned the time stamp, and a separate frame-by-frame traffic camera showed on an adjacent screen showed a perfect chronological match to the opening of the first portal. With a few swiping motions, a holographic display of the Wayne Enterprise satellite and the Earth showed a trajectory match of the relay to the opening of the first portal. It had taken time, but it was a clear match.

Peter nodded, and quickly swiped the holographic display away as he began furiously typing into his terminal. The security on the Wayne satellite was surprisingly sophisticated, enough that trying to hack in remotely even from the Liberty was going to take far too long. The Avenger grit his teeth as he stood up from his chair, pacing furiously. ”Come on, Peter… troubleshoot it. We can’t control the satellite… but someone else can.” Spider-Man’s lenses narrowed as he turned his gaze back towards the monitors. ”We can use the same signal to kill the command. We just need to find the signal.”

Within moments, Peter had filtered out the majority of satellite data. Out of what was left, only one source consisting of a high volume of data was coming from somewhere unexpected: Queens. The computer estimated a location in a residential block in Queens, which was enough of a lead for Spidey as he turned around, quickly sprinting out of the lab. He reached up and tapped the communicator in his ear.

”Spider-Man to Avengers… I’ve got a location on the source of the portals. I’m ready to move in and secure it, but could use a ride from the Liberty and some backup. In order to close the portals, we’re going to need data from them so we can try to reverse what made them. If all goes well… pizza is on me tonight.”

Peter leaped up a couple flights of stairs, sliding and diving past SHIELD personnel as he made his way quickly to the Avengers briefing room. Along the back wall of the room were several large lockers, meant to house any spare Avengers gear before or after deployment. Peter moved up to his locker, removing his mask to allow the lock to scan his face. ”I know you’re a prototype… but it looks like we're skipping the testing phase.” With a few clicks, the locker swung open to reveal a red, white, and black suit.

Explosions and screams rocked Frank from his slumber, and he whipped awake, arm up and pistol out. His sights trained immediately on the figure in front of him, stolen pistol pointed dead between the eyes; it was only when Frank blinked and adrenaline sharpened his vision from sleep that he realised the figure was the still-dead body of Ace, tied to the chair and slumped over from the bullet he'd already received the previous night. Blood had pooled directly beneath his head and coagulated on the carpet. Some had mixed with stray ends of hair and matted to Axel's forehead. From Frank's seat on the couch a few feet away, the smell of blood could have been overwhelming.

To Frank, it smelled like his mornings in the old days.

Another boom from outside shook the building and Frank quit reminiscing and moved carefully and quickly to the window. Pistol at the ready, he risked a peek outside.

Frank had seen a lot of carnage in his time in the military; during his tenure as Punisher he'd committed even more. What was unfolding now before his eyes on the streets of Manhattan was unlike any firefight he'd ever experienced.

Fanged, vicious-looking creatures, skin lemon-like with jaundice and foreheads painted a deep crimson, tore through the streets and alleys. Civilians fled in every direction, panicking and screaming; bodies littered the asphalt of human and alien alike, many shot down, some trampled beneath fearful feet. Somewhere in the distance, towards Times Square, Frank heard a distinctly reptilian roaring, and then high in the air came a blurred speck of bright yellow that he couldn't quite make out. No time to work it out. In the sky above Manhattan, a terrible ship loomed over the horizon, blotting out the sun; the rampaging creatures poured forth from its bowels, and havoc spread in blood and fire and smoke. Frank took a step back from the window, mind racing - his eyes drifted down towards the pistol he held firmly in his grip. The skin on his hands had never looked quite so wrinkled before.

One thing was certain: he'd need some better hardware.

Quickly he gathered what he needed; from Axel's closet he emptied a black duffel bag of coke bricks, sneering as he did so, and replaced the contents with some essentials - lighter fluid, matches, strips of t-shirts for makeshift gauze, duct-tape - Frank considered changing his clothes too, but the sticky heat of blood across his chest suited him just fine. He found the rest of Axel's stashed clips for the pistol Frank had appropriated; a fresh clip went in the gun and another in his waistband, but the remaining three tumbled into the bag. The tape that had inspired his return from retirement - awoken Frank back to his truest self - went in too, back in the clear plastic he'd found it in, and with a black marker Frank scrawled the name Axel had given him the night before across it. Prioritising was easy; but Frank wasn't the type of man to let one mission abort another.

With bag slung over his shoulder, he departed Axel's apartment, sparing one last hawk of spit at the corpse's foot, and quickly descended the building's staircase to street level. At the main doors he paused, peeking through the crack to survey the street outside. Despite distant screaming and the all-too-familiar sounds of sirens and heated battle, the way seemed eerily quiet. Footsteps echoed from a block over, but in Frank's immediate vicinity, all was still. He exited the building gun-first, eyes sharp and senses keen. An unseen foe was almost as dangerous as an unknown one. Frank's training would deal with the former. Some impromptu battlefield research would probably fix the latter.

He didn't have to go far to get it; despite his destination being only a few blocks away near the outskirts of Hell's Kitchen, Frank had only managed to pick his way across a few short streets before coming face to face with the snarling visage of Manhattan's invaders. The Dominator's 8-foot frame towered over Frank, and drool dripped from its vicious maw as it approached him, skin sickening, forehead a rich maroon, hunched over as it carried a large rifle in its long, sinewy arms. Frank was certain he could make out a sadistic smile spreading across the alien's face, and then it raised its weapon and let out some guttural, barking chortles as the rifle made the tell-tale humming whine of charging-

Frank ducked, rolling beneath the Dominator's legs, faster than it could anticipate. The beam of its disintegrator rifle charred the concrete of the sidewalk as it missed completely, but Frank was already sweeping the legs of the creature before it could turn and take another shot; as the rifle clattered to the asphalt, the alien swung with its talons, a powerful blow that could have removed Frank's head in a single swipe. Instead, Frank deftly back-stepped the strike and put a bullet in the back of its claw as the arm came past, and then another in the shoulder of the same arm. The Dominator screeched, a howl that Frank recognised both pain and fury in, and he breathed as it clambered quickly to its feet once more and advanced, swiping with the other arm. Compelled by anger and agony, its newly-spurred speed took Frank by surprise and he was unable to move out of the way; instead, he brought both arms up in a boxer's guard. The blow connected with a ferocity Frank had never experienced before, and the claws of the alien lacerated his forearms while the strike itself lifted him from his feet and knocked him several feet backwards through the air.

Somehow, Frank managed to turn his would-be rough landing into a combat roll, and he stabilised himself as the Dominator approached again. In his peripheral vision, Frank could see the discarded alien rifle a few feet to his left, but the advancing foe would quickly put itself between him and the weapon, and he could already feel his ribs aching from the single blow he'd taken. A few more of those and he wouldn't be of any use to anyone. The fight would be over.

Despite a decade of retirement, Frank wasn't ready to give up his war just yet.

He launched himself forwards, belting out a war cry that came from animalistic depths Frank had grown unfamiliar with, and as he ran he emptied the clip of his pistol towards the alien. It screeched in response, doing what it could to dodge the incoming fire, some shots still finding their marks in legs and torso; with its remaining good arm, it struck again, thrusting forward with its claws in a stab aimed for Frank's heart; it found only air as Frank dived to the left, landing poorly on his shoulder. The last bullet in the clip went into the back of the alien's neck, burying itself deep in its throat but doing little to stop it in the immediate future. The Dominator attempted a roar, but was only able to manage a garbled and wet throaty sound as the trauma caught up with it; and then the sounds of battle was punctuated with the whine of the rifle, and Frank saw the snarling visage of the Dominator twist into a facsimile of fear.

The whine turned into a zap, and a volley of bright twin beams erupted from the barrel of the rifle and placed themselves squarely center-mass of the alien; in a word, the results were explosive.

Frank picked himself up off the ground, rolling his now-sore shoulder and reloading the pistol before holstering it in his waistband and hefting the heavy rifle with both hands. Where the Dominator had once stood was instead a small blasted-clean crater, and covering both the immediate area and Frank was a thick, dark, viscous mix of alien blood and bits of flesh. Frank wiped his face clean with a hand and realised his arms were bleeding as he felt the familiar sticky warmth of blood replace the cold, lumpy alien gore. He fetched the makeshift gauze and duct-tape from his duffel as he began to move again, applying some quick warzone first-aid while he made the rest of the way to his safehouse. Behind him, Frank could hear more screeches and roars, and he knew that the battalion his foe had belonged to was close; too close. Time to retreat and regroup.

---

The safehouse had not been breeched in over a decade; even before his retirement, Frank's career often pushed him away from locking down in a singular secure location. More often than not, he needed to be on the move, chasing his next target or evading misguided law enforcement after dispatching his last one. To have a fortress, though, a reliable storage unit, somewhere to stockpile his armoury or hang on to useful contraband - Frank understood that very well. Vigilantism had never been lucrative, despite the appearances of his so-called peers, and the targets of the Punisher were often wealthy with ill-gotten gains. Repurposing for the greater good felt as just as any other judgement Frank meted out.

The metal shutter rattled loudly as Frank pulled it up. The inside of the safehouse was sparse, utilitarian. There was a wire-frame cot and a minifridge with bottled water and beef jerky; the only window was plated with double-thick bulletproof glass, and barred on the outside for good measure. Against one wall was a small bookshelf, its cheap wood racks bowing beneath the weight of the tomes it bore; against the other was a gun rack of considerably higher quality, and upon it hung both an exquisite collection of high-end firepower, and a very familiar vest. The crown jewel, however - the piece that Frank now wrapped his fingers around and welcomed the weight and the heft of it, even enjoying the dull pain that it brought to his torn forearms - was the Barret XM500 Anti-Materiel Rifle. Leaving his duffel bag behind but taking the vest and a couple boxes of ammo, Frank slammed the shutter of the safehouse closed behind him, and made his way to the building's rooftop.

Thirty minutes later and the streets in a 5-block radius around Frank's position were clear, and civilian refugees were guiding other survivors towards the safe-zone. The first few had been afraid when Frank started shooting, but when he'd thrown his vest to the ground and they'd realised who he was...Frank wouldn't call himself 'safe'; but he would call himself reliable. And he would reliably put a large hole through the head of any Dominator that he could see. Those fleeing sought out the area of lowest enemy concentration; naturally, when Frank made that concentration zero, they gravitated toward him. By his reckoning there were at least 50 people seeking refuge in the building below him, and scores more in the buildings surrounding.

Off in the distance, he could see Rogers flying in, bringing with him the full force of SHIELD and the Avengers to live up to their nomenclature; some great spectral fanfare erupted towards the Dominator ship, and through his scope, Frank could see distant arrows whipping through the air as well.

Fine; let those more equipped handle the major objectives. Frank was satisfied in his massacre, and protecting civilians.

---

"Hey, where'd all those alien freaks go?"

Cindy snapped her attention away from the dusty but very much alive crowd of people and onto Superboy as he hovered up near her. He raised a good point and her heart dropped, realizing that there was still a war host down the street, rampaging through Brooklyn. She squinted, following Superboy's gaze to come to the same conclusion. Her own enhanced eyes could see the distant plume of purple smoke and make out the large whale-like creature that lay crumpled on the street. The aliens were defeated by something or someone and wouldn't hurt anyone else. She was relieved, her smile returning under that threaded mask as she turned back towards Superboy. He had to happy, too...

"Damn it, I had that! Who..."

Cindy's smile faltered. That wasn't the reaction she had expected. She again followed his gaze to see the distant ship being torn apart by other heroes. It should have been a sweet victory, but she could read the room. It was clear something was bothering Superboy, like he was not happy with...

"That oughta be me. I oughta be up there, not stuck with-"

Her. Cindy's head shrunk into her shoulders and her eyes dropped. He had held his tongue right at the last moment, but she knew what he wanted to say. If that wasn't the social cue, it was certainly the silent side-eye glanced back in her direction. He tried to cover what was left unsaid, but she knew. Her lack of understanding and experience made her a hindrance. She slowed Superboy down and probably prevented him from being as effective as he could be. He was just being nice to her to let her help up to this point, like the team captain letting the bench player out for a couple of plays. However, that had a limit and Cindy agreed, she was costing lives, not helping them by playing a hero. She wasn't one and probably wasn't welcomed with everybody else.

"Oh.. uh.. I can get there. It's fine!" Cindy tried to recover, replying with a false earnest and a pretty bad attempt at a smile. His offer was just a polite way to suggest she take a hint. She understood, loud and clear. "I will just check to make sure everyone is alright over there, so you can go on."

She never stood a chance to be a superhero.

Hub City was once the axle that American industry turned upon. It pumped out more cars than there were people alive. In the 40’s, the jeeps, cars, and tanks that rolled off the Hub assembly lines fueled the American war effort and helped stomp the Nazis and Imperial Japan into submission. For decades the city stood as a triumph of the blue collar American dream. A steady job, two car garage, a chicken in every pot, etc. etc.

And then the retreat began to happen. It happened slowly, at first. Business found other countries with looser labor laws and lower standards of pay. The old double edge sword of capitalism, the one that made American manufacturing so much cheaper than European manufacturing, sliced Hub City open. As industry fled so too did the upper and middle class. What got left behind were the poor and disadvantaged. Crime and murder spiked just in time for the advent of crack cocaine. Places like Hub became political talking points for both sides of the aisle, an example to they trotted out to prove whatever point they needed to. Industrial rot was the norm for almost two decades until the great corporate rebuild.

Ten years ago Mayor Myra Fermin rode into office with the plan to revitalize the city by splaying her wide open for corporations to take over the failing city services through public bids. After the dust settled, three private companies emerged with broad mandates:

Hephaestus: Building, infrastructure, and road construction
Wolverine Power & Water: Utilities
Michigan Transportation Trust: Mass transit

It was a libertarian's wet dream, a city where private companies provided the lion's share of services with minimal oversight by the municipal government. In theory the government would get the best services for the cheapest cost. Ten years on and the corporate rebuild left something to be desired. The three initial companies who ran services in Hub stayed that way because they were the only ones who ever placed bids. Public records show that any other company that did place a bid would always end up pulling out suddenly, leaving one of the main three to get the job. The stranglehold of monopoly set in. Continued requests for Mayor Fermin’s updated financial campaign contributions continue to be ignored.

More so, the overlap between the three companies make it a tangled mess. MTT supplies Hephaestus with the heavy machinery it needs, Wolverine gets the power trucks. Hephaestus maintains the roads and rails MTT's buses and trains operate on. And now, there are rumors of a fourth company entering the mix. Thornguard, with its track record of questionable actions in the name of American Imperialism, is bidding to take over emergency services for both Hub City and O’Neil County. I’m sure its bid for emergency service will be low, as low as anything possible for a privatized police, fire, and paramedic force. How much do you want to bet the cars will come from MTT and their facilities maintained by Hephaestus? With Thornguard as the fourth corner, private interest and profit are being used to govern a city of almost a million people. Citizens seen as commodities -- ones and zeros -- riding MTT trains, working in Hephaestus buildings, arrested by Thornguard cops. But I can’t help but wonder… this combination of interest, as murky as it seems to be, if something darker and more sinister lies beneath the surface?

My name is Vic Sage, and I’m asking you to question authority, question your reality, Question Everything.

---

Myra Fermin looked across the limousine at Calvin Zabo and, like always, found herself skeptical that this man was the monster people said he actually was. There was no doubt he was the criminal kingpin of Hub City, of course. Myra had been in politics too long to know ruthless and dangerous people came in all shapes and sizes. But she had seen in crime scene photos the damage Zabo left in his wake. The man was a walking abattoir of physical violence and destruction… and his gaunt face and thin frame hinted at none of that raw power.

“So, how are things, Madam Mayor?” asked Zabo.

Myra shot Zabo a dirty look as she lit up a cigarette. As a city owned vehicle there was technically no smoking in the limo. But who in the hell would tell her no?

“Just look at the news,” she said, blowing smoke. “The city is broke, our fucking water is brown, our murder count is expected to pass 250 at year’s end, and on top of everything else I got a blister on my foot that might be infected.”

A crooked smile appeared on Zabo’s face.

“Save it for your therapist,” said Zabo. "I was just trying to be polite. Like when someone asks how you're doing, they don't want you to really tell them how you're doing."

He reached into his suit coat and pulled out a white index card. “I got a list of names on this card. These men were all detained based on flimsy evidence and the actions of a vigilante and they need a few friendly favors.”

Myra took the card. Six men in total with names that weren’t American. Zabo’s words helped her connect the dots.

“Those guys that the faceless weirdo roughed up,” she said. “Those were your guys.”

Zabo spread his hands. “No, not really. But I speak for them in this case. And the people they work for want them released quickly and quietly.”

Myra frowned and stuck the smoldering cigarette into the corner of her mouth. “Then why come to me with this? I’m the fucking mayor, Zabo. I know you have more than your fair share of cops already paid for. Give them this information.”

“But I’m giving it to you,” Zabo said coolly. “Because sometimes who delivers a message is just as effective as the message itself.”

She scowled and exhaled smoke. “So I’m your goddamn errand girl, is that it?”

He shrugged. “Just a friendly reminder to the judges and lawyers just how far my reach extends.”

Myra looked back down at the list of names before looking back up at Zabo.

“These men were all arrested smuggling some serious weapons into the city. Two years ago, Zabo, I campaigned on stopping gun violence. Last year Hub was the most violent city in America per capita. If we were the size of Gotham we would clock almost three thousand murders a year. And you want me to help you set free the men who are contributing to that violence?”

Zabo’s face held no hint of warmth or understanding as he spoke. “That’s what the money’s for, Madam Mayor. It’s not the fucking voters who get you into office and keep you there. It’s my money.”

The car slowed to a stop near a curb. Zabo opened the door and started to get out.

“Never forget, Myra,” he said softly. “Who exactly you work for. And who exactly I work for, and how much power they carry. You wouldn’t be the first elected official they’ve seen succumb to ‘tragic circumstances’ and you wouldn’t be the last either. Work on the paper I gave you, and I’ll be in touch.”

---

Rucka Park Homes

Hector looked out the window on the courtyard below. He was nervous, anxious. Waiting for the other shoe to fall. Tucked into his waistband was a fully loaded Glock. It was so new Hector could smell the gun oil even now with it underneath his t-shirt. The gun was just one of almost one hundred brand new pistols, submachine guns, rifles, and fucking rocket launchers they had stashed in Clever’s mom’s house. Wherever El Beato had gotten all that fucking hardware, Hector was afraid to ask. But he was damn sure excited to use it.

“Get away from the window, fool.”

Hector looked over his shoulder as El Beato came in through the door. He wore grey sweatpants, a Hub City Warriors hoodie, and a red baseball cap with a flat brim. Around his neck were thick white gold chains.

“What are you out there looking at, anyway?”

Hector shrugged. “Just waiting… for shit to jump off.”

El Beato sucked his teeth. “It’s not jumping off until I say so. BMF ain’t crazy enough to walk up into the Rucka unless they got the goddamn Army behind them. They know this whole block is Spanish.”

Hector didn’t know what the initials BMF meant, exactly, but he knew that was the name of the black street gang Los Discípulos fought constantly over drug corners here in Hub City’s west side. It was mostly the occasional ass whooping or stray drive-by that missed their targets, but there were still bodies that got dropped. The body count at the moment was 4-1 in favor of BMF in the few years since Hector joined LD. But this crazy ass deal El Beato had pulled was going to change that.

“We gonna move on them later tonight,” said El Beato. “You know Popeye’s cousin, Tanya, with the big tits? Popeye said she's shacked up with one of them BMF fools. She knows, and now we know, where their stash house is. We raid that shit, take their stash, and scalp a few of them on the way out.”

El Beato started to rummage through a closet. When he emerged, he held a brand new AK-47 in his hands.

“Gonna go Jihad on those motherfuckers!”

What neither El Beato or Hector realized was that their conversation was being listened to. A hidden app on El Beato’s phone had been activated, turning the device’s microphone on for whoever was on the other end to listen as the two gang members planned the details of their raid on the BMF stronghold.