September 18th:
"Well…that is curious," remarked the man. He stood before the large window of his magnificent penthouse apartment. His back ramrod straight, his blonde hair and beard maintained impeccably, his arms behind his back. The man was dressed in western business attire but with several modifications to make his vestments more comfortable. Black dress shoes, slacks and suit vest. His suit and over coat lay on a chair across the room, as he largely considered them a hindrance in his day to day movements. Under the suit vest he had on a standard white dress shirt. He had not bothered with a tie today, thus his shirt collar was loose, allowing his neck free movement. The final touch to his attire was the antique gold pocket watch, with a chain leading from the loop on near his pants pocket to a small pocket on the front of his vest; the watch had been left to him by his father. His shirt sleeves were unbuttoned and rolled up.
Now, this man sounds not so unordinary. From his dress he sounds rather well to do, and not so uncommon around the socialite circles that he indeed inhabits in the wondrous city of New York. He acknowledged and enjoyed the many marvels that dwelled within the city: the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, Spider-Man, Daredevil and others. Actually, this man had a special place among these marvels, as he was perhaps one of the first, his "birth" taking place back in the 1930s. His aforementioned "father" was in fact Professor Phineas T. Horton, and this man was not Horton’s flesh and blood progeny, he was his mechanical genius come to life.
The man standing in front of the window was none other than James Hammond. A mechanical being that mirrored the human body exactly, except where the human body had bones, blood and skin, Hammond had a series of highly advanced polymers, alloys and coolants. The mimicry of human biology was so complete, that Hammond was able to donate usable "blood" to a human being.
Hammond’s place in the world of marvels was one of utmost importance. He had stood with other heroes, Namor, Captain America, and a host of others, against the evil of the German Nazi party in the dark days of World War II. He had been the incendiary "Human" Torch, a mantle now taken by Johnny Storm of the Fantastic Four. He held no grudge with Storm however, and let him freely use the name, as it gave Hammond a sense of accomplishment and pride that someone would wish to use his moniker and follow his pyrotechnic legacy.
Years ago Hammond’s abilities had burned out, and he entered a state of suspended animation. After some business with the Mad Thinker and the Avengers, he returned to the modern world fully empowered. Later he lost the powers again in order to save the life of an old friend. Now they were returning, he could create fireballs, induce combustion in other objects, and control fire pyrokinetically. However the full spectrum of Torch powers had yet to fully return. He could not "flame on."
As to the curiosity he mentioned, the city of New York was in upheaval. There seemed to be general rioting and terror in the streets, and he could hear the booming of…it sounded like heavy artillery, tanks and mortars, but he knew that couldn’t be true. Whatever it was, something threatened his city, and with the Avengers on vacation, the Fantastic Four probably off in some alternate dimension and his late lamented Heroes for Hire recently disbanded. He saw it was now up to whomever was able to help out, so Torch or not, he would do all that he could. Leaving his pocket watch behind on the coffee table in his apartment’s living room, he turned and dived out of the open panoramic window in his penthouse.
Evening of September 16th:
"Who so hails the vaunted Prince of Power?! Be it you, Thor?" The large Greek exclaimed, turning from both his ale and women.
"Nay, I am not Thor, but I need your help concerning him," replied the tall stranger; he was well built, of godly stature and held in his hand an Uru Hammer of striking similarity to Mjolnir.
"Then speak thy mind and be ye friend of the Thunderous One, I may deem they cause worthy," the Greek returned in kind "I cannot say you are recognizable, stranger. First would thou tell me of thyself and whereupon you happened across that," Hercules pointed toward the stranger's Uru Hammer, as the Greek demi-god immediately recognized it as a powerful token akin to the aforementioned Mjolnir, Thor’s own ultramundane weapon.
"Alright, if you can’t trust a friend of Thor’s, who can ya trust?" The stranger spoke rhetorically, dropping his faux Asgard speak, and adopting something more akin to a Jersey accent "So I guess it starts at—"
"Hold, new comer!" Hercules put up a hand, hushing his guest, he turned, craning his neck to find the bar keeper: "Barkeep! More ale! And something for my newly arrived friend as well; bring forth the grog!" The barkeeper having sent out a waitress with plenty of beer, Hercules spoke again "Sorry, friend, now with the proper libations, we may converse," he motioned to the stranger, as if turning over the stage to him.
"I don’t know if Thor’s ever mentioned me, my name’s Red Norvell. I’m kind of a Thor stand in. Y’know the deal, mere mortal is deemed worthy of Thor’s powers, so Odin makes a copy of Mjolnir, gives the mortal Thor-type powers. Happens all the time. For awhile, Thor had been banished to Midgard, before the Onslaught affair. Then he vanished with a bunch’a heroes, supposedly dead."
"Aye, a most sad day, I remember. Nary well could I hold my rage upon learning of the ordeal. Would that I had been there, ho! The fates would be different. Gratefully the staunch heroes did return," Hercules interjected, mourning once fallen comrades, celebrating their return, and boasting his own godly might all in-between swallowing entire flagons of beer.
"Yeah…Anyways, the Asgardians went missing; I found ‘em, then we all went missing. Then Thor found us, after coming back with the rest of the heroes. I’ve pretty much just been hanging around since then. Then, a few days ago Thor teleports into Asgard in’a flurry. Real pissed. I know the guy, I’m friends with him, hell I’m his adopted brother but I saw him this pissed and even I was scared. He wanted to speak with Odin but the All-Father was away on some business. He muttered something about the "ungrateful bores of Midgard" and then flew off. Odin returned a few days later, but he’d seen neither hide nor hair of Thor, and now no one can find him. I came to Midgard to figure out what it was that set him off. You’re one of his oldest friends, an’ I’d heard you were present at the latest battle he participated in when he stormed off. So what can ya tell me?" Red Norvell finished, he looked at his as yet untouched beer, and then gulped down half of the mug.
"Ah! The battle with the Exemplars, a truly magnificent affair! He fought as any doughty warrior should," Hercules mused, downing most of his drink "It was when we had returned to Avengers Mansion that the spark for his anger did alight. An overly zealous reporter had annoyed the Thunderer. Thor had seen fit to destroy their machinery with a blow from Mjolnir. Not a proud moment for the Prince of Asgard. Demanding he make restitution and apology to jackals far below him, Thor left. I have seen my friend angered many a time similar to this. He will come around, and we shall share the gift of battle once again." Hercules finished, skimpy on exact details, but giving Red an idea as to what happened.
"So, Herc, what do ya think happened to him? Did he come back to Midgard, or take off somewhere else?"
"Either could well be the case, Red. Ho! There is time enough for these matters. Come, Red, the night has but yet to start, good drinks and beauteous women do await us. We may settle such matters in coming days. Come, Red Norvell, a friend of Thor’s will be a friend of Hercules."
"Sounds like a hell of a time, Herc. Guess I’ll take ya up on it," Red replied, with a laugh. He finished his mug of beer, as did Hercules.
"Let us hurry across town, in fact to a favourite place of Thor’s with almost divine mead. Mayhap Thor will be there waiting for us, he has drunk off more than one fit of anger in their halls."
Putting aside business, the pair of men, fast becoming friends, tipped the barkeep and exited the establishment where they headed across town.
September 17th:
Having laid low his brother, the mysterious Watcher now turned his attention towards earth. Specifically a certain city that he had noticed Uatu often studying with particular interest. New York City, as it was called. Urban, highly polluted, overly populated, filthy and more; the Watcher was unimpressed. However, he continued to look on, desperately seeking what made his brother Uatu so interested in the planet.
And he saw it.
Focusing in on the city, he noticed many different life forms of power. Genetic mutations, highly advanced deified beings, what seemed to be an odd Skrull radiating immense power, artificial life forms, and a living power battery—with Kree genes?! He also noticed a faint energy trace from a race he had long thought dead, an Eidolon? No, it seemed too weak, he had to be mistaken. Unless the Eidolon was somehow comatose or dormant. What an odd planet. In one city alone, he observed many different peoples.
But observing is for the weak.
One must act. Instill fear, provoke battle. The true measure of nobility in a race came out in strenuous times and glorious combat. A philosophy he had picked up and modified from a one time observational subject of his. Kang the Conqueror. Yes. Use Kang’s methods to study these people.
However, Kang lusted for the glory of conquest. What would the Watcher lust for? He thought, his cosmic brain contemplating every possibility at once. Knowledge. It was to be an experiment. The inhabitants of New York were in for a test. They would be tested to help prove a rogue Watcher’s hypothesis. It was merely random chance that it was to be earth he would assail. The Watcher smiled, eager to begin his experiment, his demented thought process leading him to seek knowledge at whatever cost.
What cost would he extract from the people of earth? Who knows?
The synapses within his powerful, yet twisted, brain fired, formulating plan after plan, until he settled on one. A siege. He would lay siege to the great city, bring out in humans the greatest fear he could instill, and wait to see what the myriad powers would do given his actions. Now he watched and prepared for the coming day.
September 18th:
The riots had already reached mass proportions. Simply the Watcher’s presence set spark to the city’s powder keg of fear. His eyes pulsed with light, and energy arced from them, striking out wildly, with no intention but to drive fear into the hearts of those below him.
He hovered in the middle of the street and per chance, the energy he was releasing struck out at a very important building, angering some very powerful people.
Inside the U.N. Building:
The energy bolt pierced through the front of the building, and continued all the way through the U.N. building, arcing wildly and causing great damage. The speaker at the podium unleashed her great mutant powers to combat the threat of falling debris.
Darkstar, Laynia Petrovich, created a dome of dark force energy, covering the people in the building, and allowing the debris to strike the dome and tumble off to the sides of the grand room without fear of hurting anyone.
Union Jack drew his almost ancient .455 calibre Webley revolver and large dagger, poised to attack whatever threat had unleashed the energy.
The Vision and Warbird from the back of the crowd took flight and rose into the center of the building, the energy had now vacated the building, and as such the debris had quit falling. In the back, a handsome blonde millionaire took off his suit coat, to reveal a pair of beautiful angelic wings wrapped around his body. The coat had just barely hidden them from plain view, he unbound them and stretched them, as he had been cooped up all day. Turning off his image inducer, his complexion now shifted from Caucasian to a shade of blue. The Avenging Angel flapped his wings, and joined Vision and Warbird as they headed over to the speaker’s podium. Seeing that the U.N. committee was safe, the five heroes, Union Jack, Darkstar, Angel, Vision and Warbird made their way outside.
Elsewhere:
Jim Hammond, the artificial man, thought taking the stairs would have perhaps been easier, or at least less stressful. He was plunging downwards, from his 30 story apartment window, towards the ground, and his torch powers were not active; but that was no problem.
With his pyrokinetic powers, he set the ground below him afire, and in his hands started to create a rather large ball of fire. His intent was to superheat the air beneath him, creating a thermal updraft. He increased the temperature of the fire on the ground beneath him and released the fireball from his hands, controlling it to circle around near his feet, to continually raise the temperature and buoy him to the ground.
He hit the ground a bit hard, but didn’t notice, he could take a bit more punishment than a regular human. Gathering up all the fire into one concentrated and super heated mass in his fist, he rushed off towards the disturbance.
Later in the day, undisclosed bar:
Rhodey was still fuming over Tony Stark. Every once in awhile this happened; a man who had been his closest friend for a long time and whom Rhodey had not spoken with for a couple years, still managed to get under his skin.
Behind him a large man in a cape crashed through the wall of the establishment. Rhodes swallowed the rest of his drink, and gripped his mug like a weapon, turned, adopted a defensive stance, and was willing to clobber whomsoever it was that had caused the ruckus. It was…Thor?
"Thor? What the hell’s going on?" Rhodes demanded and though he was no longer War Machine, but ever a hero at heart; he would help a former ally at the drop of a hat.
"Not Thor, fella, but more of an adopted brother. Same powers, just a couple millennia less experience. Say…you Jim Rhodes?"
"Yeah, I am…who exactly are you? What’s going on?"
"Well, there’s a ‘Watcher’ going crazy down town an—" abruptly cut off by another shot of lancing energy it caught Red Norvell up in it, and sent him careening through the other end of the bar.
Rushing to go help the Thoresque stranger, Jim saw out the gaping hole in the wall. The energy had shot out far beyond just the bar, catching a hospital across the street. The hospital had Roman arches in the front, serving double duty, as both structural support and as a comely architectural design.
Then Rhodes saw someone…whom he recognized as Warbird from the Avengers files he had perused years ago, fly past and drop off…someone who looked like Hercules. The hospital started to collapse, and surely would have, had the Prince of Power not met it with his godly sinew. Bracing the hospital up, he shouted for help, as streams of escapees ran from it’s exits.
"Okay, Thor guy, I don’t know what’s going on, but Hercules over there’s holding up an entire hospital. Let’s say we go help him?"
Looking over at Hercules struggling against the falling building, Norvell rose and unseen by Rhodes grasped a pouch at his belt and recalled a private meeting with Odin before coming to Midgard. Unsure, his hand fell away from the Norse crafted leather pouch and the pair of men made haste towards the crumbling hospital building.
Earlier in the day, outside the U.N.:
The horde of heroes erupting from the United Nations building gave a collective gasp of fright upon seeing their adversary. A Watcher!
"I thought those had a non interference policy and this one’s tearing up the place!" Warbird shouted, releasing multiple energy blasts to deflect and disintegrate bits of debris in the air which would have collided with civilians.
"This is peculiar behaviour for a Watcher. Perhaps we may ascertain its motives…" The Vision replied, his hollow android voice betraying no emotion, he had battled often over the years for his right to feel and understand emotions. Ever since the return of his emotions, the period wherein he had lacked them still heavily impressed upon him. He often entered battle in a stone cold, unfeeling state, acting on pure logic rather than passion; which had its advantages, but disadvantages as well.
Rising into the sky, he hovered near the Watcher, being the first earthling to address him.
"What is your business here, Watcher?"
"I come but to learn, android. Unlike my brother, Uatu and the rest of my race, I prefer a…I believe this is a Terran euphemism, ‘hands on approach’," With this, the energy barrage from the Watcher’s eyes ceased. The Vision cocked his head slightly, his synthetic mind trying to infer as to the Watcher’s next move. Letting out a small burst of, what seemed to be electricity from his hands, he forced the Vision to increase in density, and plummet to the ground, 20 stories below.
"VISION!" Warbird shouted frantically.
"I have him," Darkstar countered her outburst, creating a platform of dark force energy to catch and cradle the falling android. She drew him back towards the group, laying him gently on the ground before them.
Flapping lightly to hover over the ground, Angel looked around to see what service he might render "Warbird, It doesn’t look like we can do much here. I mean, this is a Watcher we’re up against. As far as I know, this has never happened, we don’t know how to beat one of them."
"I’ll do my best to keep him busy, if you guys wanna scatter. Find some shelter, help with the crowds, try and get some reinforcements," Union Jack offered gingerly, his hand resting on the butt of his almost century year old Webley .455 revolver.
"Thanks, Jack, but I don’t think bullets will do much to him," Warbird replied, desperately trying to think of a plan.
"Yuh, but they might piss him off and let you get away and get help. Keep him busy for a couple minutes while I load up the Webley," Jack told the rest of them, pulling out his gun and fiddling around with a pack of bullets.
"Jack…what kind of bullets are those?" Angel inquired, his keen eyesight noticing a Bio-Hazard sign on the casings.
"These? A special ammunition I got a hold of. Exploding bullets, they hit the skin and fragment but that ain’t the kicker. They’re made of depleted uranium, with some sort of high concentration napalm center, when it hits the air it fires up pretty well," Jack responded to his question dourly.
"Those don’t sound exactly…legal," Angel replied, a bit wary that a fellow adventurer would carry around such a lethal payload.
"You’re right. They’re banned by The Hague and Geneva Conventions, I think. So keep it between us, huh?" holding a finger up to his masked lips, Jack made a mock ‘shushing’ motion to Angel.
Warbird, Darkstar and the now recovered Vision flew about the Watcher, unleashing wild amounts of energy at him but barely giving him any pause.
Having flagged Warbird down, Jack conferred with her as to how he should proceed.
"The three of us will give him one last jolt and then get the hell out. Angel will stay here with you and provide transportation. Meet up at Avengers Mansion tonight. It’s 8 o’clock now, so be there at 11."
With one more massive blast directed at the Watcher, the three heroes: Warbird, Darkstar and Vision flew off in split directions. As the Watcher slowly turned, inspecting where each of the heroes went, Jack aimed and took his shot, having prepared, and anticipating the Webley’s notorious kickback, he emptied the weapon’s six bullet maximum into and around the eyes of the Watcher.
Momentarily taken aback, the Watcher lashed out with a force blast, propelling Union Jack backwards through the now empty U.N. building and into the back wall of the edifice, hitting hard and crumpling to the ground.
"I’m curious, winged one, were those projectiles meant to damage me?" The Watcher asked, his fist now glowing with destructive energy.
"I can’t vouch for flagman but this is meant to hurt!" A fourth party shouts as a stream of almost nova powered flame lances across the back of the Watcher’s head.
Taking advantage of the fortuitous interruption, Warren flapped off into the U.N. to recover Jack. Seeing the crumpled and still form, Warren steeled himself to expect the worst. Creeping closer he noticed a slow rise and fall of the flag clad hero’s chest.
"Oh man, you okay, Jack?"
"No…not really, Cor that hurt. Oh, bloody hell, help me up," Supported by his winged ad hoc teammate, Jack rose to his feat and slowly steadied himself. He started to reel and kneeled down for a minute, coughing violently; he removed his mask and spat out blood.
"Any internal bleeding you think?"
"Dunno, dammit, blimey I’m not a doctor. Think it was just from the trauma or somethin’," Jack’s tone was condescending but Angel ignored it, he knew better, the man was just venting his frustration and pain after the grievous blow he was dealt.
"I’m surprised you even survived that…"
"Well, I’m more than just a bloke in a costume y’know. I’m a Pendragon an’ we’re a hearty lot. Got mystically enhanced strength, endurance and that stuff."
"Ah, well I see you use it to its fullest," Angel countered, flexing his wings, getting ready to carry out the injured man.
"Yuh, c’mon Wings, let’s get out of here and—hey, is that Jim Hammond out there?!" noticing the blonde haired artificial man skirting around the Watcher, launching fireballs.
"Maybe, don’t think I’ve ever met him but I recall reading he was living in a New York penthouse after Stark bought up Oracle Inc. He looks tired out there."
"Doesn’t have much of the old flame powers left, what he’s got takes a lot out of him if he uses ‘em too much from what I’ve heard, so let’s go help."
Holding Jack under his arms, Angel flew out of the damaged U.N. building, having reloaded the Webley, Jack took potshots at the Watcher here and there, closing in on Hammond, Angel released Jack and the Briton told the android of the plans to meet at Avengers Mansion that night.
As the two heroes conversed, the Angel pulled off a dazzling display of aerial acrobatics, leading the Watcher away and into another part of town. Finding a largely abandoned section of the city, Angel weaved between the buildings, angering the Watcher, and he started to lash out with energy again in blind rage. Making a beeline between the buildings, Angel rose into the sky and dived down, using gravity and momentum to carry him back to Hammond and Jack as fast as possible.
"Put your arms up!" Warren shouted out, as he dived in-between the two heroes standing on the street. Warren dived down, clutched an arm of each of the men and rose back into the sky, flapping hard "I’ll take us as far as I can, but I can’t carry both of you for long."