"Be free."
"Submit."
"Be free."
"Submit."
"Be free!"
"SUBMIT!"
Two equally as stirring, yet entirely distinct voices from the past echoed throughout the back of The Surfer's mind as the remnants of Thor's lightning engulfed his increasingly weary frame. They rang in his ears so loudly that by the time he had lost the battle, The Surfer did not remember the fall, nor the blows that the Asgardian had reigned upon him. All that he could weakly discern was the aftermath, as the thunder boomed and the light faded, revealing the frightful form of the adversary that had bested him. The Surfer, with much strain, raised his hand to channel even one last spark of The Power Cosmic to defend himself. He concentrated hard. Reached out to the cosmos themselves to draw more power.
And there was only silence.
The glistening blood splashed against his throat, giving him a bitter preview of what was to come. He could not feel the immense power that had emanated from his body anymore. The connection to his board had long since been severed. Even the rage born in the Apokoliptian fire pits had entirely subsided, leaving nothing but a frail, weak and pathetic thing in it's wake. At first, he did not understand. The Silver Surfer was to be immortal, he told himself again and again as The God of Thunder drew ever closer, the intent to disprove that fact clear in the Prince's eyes.
He had anticipated resistance. The Surfer would have been a fool not to. These beings, these mortals, they fought for that which they believed. They died in the greater service of what they sought to preserve, and did proudly so. It did not matter, he had assured himself, as Darkseid's will would overcome their impudence. And at first, it seemed not that the champions of Earth would succeed. Despite the valiant efforts of The Fantastic Four, The Flash, Spider-Woman, The Blue Beetle, The Spirit of Vengeance, and even The New Genisisian, Apokolips' herald had not faltered. Even Jonathan Storm's attempt to sacrifice himself to stop The Surfer had all been in vain.
Yet in the moment that the clouds grew furious with the coming storm, and Asgard's champion joined in the battle to protect Earth, there had been a sense that The Surfer could not place. A lack of faith in The Power Cosmic's wielder, perhaps, from an outside source. At first, he had mistook this for his own doubt. His own desperate need to make sense of succumbing to Thor's righteous fury, or his inability to prevent Earth's self-appointed heroes from attempting to undo that which was to be the natural conclusion of this world.
But he knew. He
knew who had relented The Power Cosmic from his grasp. He who had toyed with his mind, who had convinced him that he was to bring about the universe's ultimate harmony. The being who, even now, The Surfer could feel sitting atop a molten throne that rested several galaxies away, looking down upon his creation with an unfathomable disappointment. The herald's eyes closed, as he bitterly accepted the truth.
"I've failed."His voice no longer fit to command the stars themselves, The Surfer meekly crawled an inch backward before his arms ultimately gave out, unwilling to carry even himself any further. His strength was gone entirely, the once radiant silver coating his skin had disappeared, and he could feel the very life slowly beginning to drain out of him. Just as well, he thought to himself. For if he did not die here, his end would come at the hands of a vengeful God.
And that would be but a mercy compared to what Darkseid would do to him, if he somehow escaped this dire predicament. But it was not meant to be. Not only had he failed his malevolent master in the quest for universal peace, but he had failed every living creature in the cosmos. What wonders The Surfer and a metahuman army could bring to them was now forever lost, all because he had not been strong enough. The shame of such a realization would likely never leave him.
"Finish me, Asgardian..."The Surfer looked up, with tears welling in his glowing eyes. Not for himself, but for those whom would never see a universe released from it's state of everlasting turmoil.
"I am unworthy... of this world or any other. You would be just in silencing my existence."Thor did not seem to disagree. Taking another step forward, with pure energy crackling from his fingertips, he grabbed The Surfer by the throat and raised him to meet a mortally fateful strike. The herald did not resist any longer, having accepted this to be his deserving fate, and simply waited for the end to come. As he looked into the heavens above, The Surfer could see a great light begin to overwhelm him. The same light, he wagered, many others had seen just before Darkseid's servant had brought them to
their end.
But what surprised The Silver Surfer was that, with his rage slipping away into confusion, The God of Thunder seemed to be aware of the light aswell. So much so that whenever he noticed the light begin to expand into a vivid circular portal, Thor dropped The Surfer to where he had found him and was beginning to steel himself for yet another bout with an unforseen enemy.
"ENOUGH!"
No such enemy would arrive. In the place of a new threat looking to continue The Surfer's warpath appeared a woman bathed in light. Her features at first obscured, Apokolips' herald soon recognized the shape of which she had used to travel. It was another boom tube. Immediately readying himself for one of any innumerable member of Darkseid's covenant to continue where Thor had momentarily left off, he was instead shocked to see the light giving way to a woman dressed in a brilliant gold and the deepest of blue, a crimson cloak flowing from her back. And the most beautiful face that The Surfer had ever seen.
"Who..."For too long now, the one who had only ever been called Barda had lived her life as a fugitive from Darkseid's wrath. Having taken part in the slaughtering of New Genesis, aswell as having been ordered to carry out countless atrocities void of even fleeting mercifulness by the bloodthirsty Granny Goodness, Barda had abandoned the ways of her Apokoliptian sisters of war and dedicated herself to a more noble cause. Having been party to a failed insurrection against the Dark One himself, Barda's punishment had been to watch as the person she loved was stripped of his very soul and given an entirely new one. Though she had eventually escaped and fled to open space, brazenly annihilating every Parademon and agent that served Apokolips that was foolish to cross her path, she had been chased from one end a galaxy to another.
Yet the man that she loved had been resigned to a much crueler sentence. His free will taken from him and tossed away as if it were not of any concern, Barda had helplessly watched from a distance as The Silver Surfer dutifully sought to bring about Darkseid's grand design without question or remorse. But for all of that running, and for the years of suffering, Barda had never once given up the hope that somewhere within The Surfer, there was still a spark of humanity. A glimpse of the man he once was, who once looked upon her with caring eyes and a daring heart.
She could not allow him to die before that hope was extinguished. Barda would appeal to this Surfer once, and only once, before his fate would be sealed. And every creature that existed in the vast reaches of the cosmos would have to pry Barda away before she would leave him again.
"You!", she bellowed, extending her baton to Thor.
"You have shown great strength today. You have indeed bested this beast of a black hearted monster's creation. Now your part in this is over. I cannot promise retribution for your world, but I will remove the blight that has seeded this destruction. One way or another, that I can guarantee."The Surfer recoiled in her radiance, unable to discern her identity. The woman stood several feet taller than himself, and her battle gear looked to be stained with the blood of many sorts of alien combatants. Yet as she turned to him, her expression went from that of a warrior in defense to a woman fraught with deep concern. Extending her hand, she invited The Surfer to take it.
"You must remember. You have to remember. This construct may have bound you to the will of Darkseid, but I know the heart that lies beneath this... perversion. This was never who you truly were."The Surfer looked at the hand, weakly, unsure of what he should do. By all accounts, he did not recognize her, but the way in which her eyes stared back at him - there was something there that drew him in. A faint, distant acknowledgment of something else. A life once lived before all of this.
"I cannot... I do not remember that of which you seek. My mind is clouded. Damaged, even. There is nothing there except the will of my master.""He is not your master!", Barda sternly spat.
"He is but a deciever! A vile manipulator who seeks only to fulfill his own ends. I know this because it is you who showed me the truth in the first place. You who once dared to dream of a universe beyond Darkseid's tyranny. Surely, you can remember that much. Tell me you remember, Scott..."The Surfer's eyes widened at the name.
Scott... this moniker felt foreign to him, yet vitally important all the same. It was as if there were two warring parts of his mind that were colliding with eachother at once. One that told him not to believe words that were clearly lies, another telling him that he knew there was validity to her words. The Surfer placed both hands on each side of his temple, concentrating as hard as he could. Trying to drown one voice out for another.
"N...No! You attempt to confuse me! I live only to serve Darkseid! To carry out the promise of Anti-Life, to bring balance to all! I am Apokolips' herald, wielder of The Power Cosmic! I am The Silver S---"With a frightfully strong blow, Barda sent The Surfer falling back to the ground. Her teeth grit as she reached down and fiercely grabbed the herald by the shoulders.
"No, Scott! I refuse to let this happen! You were once a caring, fearless man who did not cower when presented with any challenge that you faced! I thought you to be miraculous! But here, I find you cowering! Afraid to face the truth! Unwilling to accept that what you were meant to be was free!"The Surfer wiped the blood from his lip, shocked as he realized that it was no longer a vague silver - but a pure red. He looked towards Barda with a quizzical gaze, hanging on the last word she had spoken.
"Free?"Barda smiled, allowing her anguish to be tempered by the same hope that had brought her all this way.
"Yes, Scott."She placed his hand into her's, and held it to her face. Hoping, praying that the dying embers of The Power Cosmic would grant The Surfer a final look into another's memories.
"Reach in... and be free."The Surfer's mouth went agape as several, vivid images sprang forth in his mind's eye. He saw a caped figure, his uniform a vivid red, yellow, and green, attempting to escape a bewilderingly complex trap before an audience of millions of New Genesisians.
He saw a woman laughing as he fumbled, her battle gear having been replaced by a disguise befitting the planet they were on. It was not a laugh of mockery, but of amusement. The fools around her did not believe he would ever escape.
He did, of course. For that was the gift of the one who had once been called Mr. Miracle. The Surfer's thoughts reeled as he saw other images, aswell. A war between two planets. The incursion of Apokolips. The secret plans made between this man and woman behind closed doors, speaking of heresy that betrayed what both of them had grown to know. And in a moment of passion, he sees...
A kiss.
The Silver Surfer realizes that these are not the memories of the woman. These memories are
his own. And as the last of the fading hue that coats his body deteriorates, he looks back at his hand as the woman caresses it. It is wearing a green glove attached to a red sleeve. And instantly, he remembers everything. He was not willing to see the truth because, as it turned out, the truth was a trap. And with the help of the woman he loved, he had finally escaped it.
The Silver Surfer was no more.
In his place lied Scott Free, emerging from the most terrible nightmare of his life.
"Barda?"She grinned as he looked upon her with recognition, pulling himself closer to her.
"Gods. Am I dreaming this?"Barda took his other hand into her's and rose with him, allowing her strength to be his aswell.
"Does it truly matter?"Placing her lips to his for the first time in what felt like eternity, Scott Free and Big Barda tenderly shared the passion of that imagined eternity in a single moment. Oblivious to the universe around them, the two tortured souls finally felt a moment of well earned peace.
As they parted, however, Scott caught a glimpse of the destruction around him. The blazing fires. The Earthly prison having barely been rescued from the brink of total destruction. The costumed champions of Earth, looking towards him with either hatred or fear.
He had caused this. Whatever state that Darkseid had put him in, he had contributed to the suffering of others.
Scott could hardly take the sight, focusing instead on Barda's eyes.
"What did I do? Barda, what did he do to me? To us?"Barda placed her hand behind his head and brought their foreheads together, quelling the rising panic in him.
"There will be time for that later, my love. For now, take comfort in the fact that it is over."Scott looked back at her with a worried gaze.
"But... Darkseid. The Surfer, The Power Cosmic. They are still his to command. How can we be sure that this is done? What if he comes for me again?"Barda simply smirked, her grip on Scott growing even tighter.
"Let him try. I'll kill him before that happens."Scott Free felt the weakness in his body overwhelm him, as he slipped into unconsciousness. Barda caught his lifeless body as it hung over her arm, back arched. But brought to peace, seemingly, once again. The burden finally lifted from him.
Throwing her love's arm over her shoulders, the boom tube reopened behind Barda, nearly blinding the heroes who had watched them in a bid of clear confusion. Barda acknowledged them, knowing that they had doubts. Perhaps reasonably so. All they had known was the vengeful Surfer - they had no reason to trust that he had been under the influence of another.
The best that she could do was speak to their concern that this threat would ever return to harm their world again.
"I know this is... difficult. Seeing one who has caused you all such pain and despair being taken away. But I give you my word that the one you know as The Silver Surfer is dead. This man was never party to his wanton destruction. He was merely the vessel. A vessel which has outlived his usefulness to Darkseid, thanks to the combined efforts of you all. For that, you have my thanks."Raising her baton, defensively, Barda looked sadly upon them.
"And my apologies. I have run from this for too long. And he is too weak to pay a penance for The Surfer's crimes. So I am forgoing a proper introduction..."She seemed to look particularly towards the New Genesisian known as Bekka as she continued.
"And reunion, to see that I can get him to safety. So that he may heal, and return to me as the man he once was. And I cannot let any of you stop me."Backing into the portal, Barda noticed Scott weakly coming back to life. His eyes in a daze, he nevertheless looked upon one of the gathered heroes - Susan Storm, The Invisible Woman - and partially smiled.
"Thank you. For showing me... the way back."Before any in attendance could question or object to what was happening, the boom tube closed ahead of them. Leaving only the trace of what had once been Apokolips' herald behind them.
The heroes were victorious.
A man's soul had been restored.
And somewhere in the galaxy, for one glorious moment…
The Lord of Apokolips knew the sting of defeat.
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