Title: God Wars
Feedback: In lieu of a Faithbot yeah.
Disclaimer: Any characters you recognise belong either to Mutant Enemy or Marvel Comics.
FIC: GodWars (1/?)
The door exploded inwards, Faith, clad in her state-of-the-art combat suit, bursting through it like the proverbial human dynamo. She was barely three steps in when a vampire lunged out of the darkness. Faith glided inside its right cross, grabbed its wrist, and yanked its arm down onto her upswinging knee. The vampire’s scream was drowned out in the exploding crack of its elbow, but its pain was short-lived as Faith slammed a stake into its chest.
“Team Alpha has front access,” Faith reported into her mouthpiece.
“Team Beta has rear access,” Xander reported in a whisper.
“Team Delta has roof access,” their third-in-command coolly reported.
“’Kay,” Faith continued, voice tight with excitement. This was their first mission since the formation of S.H.I.E.L.D’s supernatural arm. Everything depended on the result of this mission. If their mission went well, then they would be cleared for nationwide operations against vampire nests, werewolf packs, witch covens, and other minor supernatural threats. “You know the drill,” Faith muttered, “keep together, keep tight, and kill every vamp you come across.” Faith glanced at the two men who’d followed her through into the hallway. “You two watch each other’s backs, and stay close to me, be ready.”
Faith leaned back at the waist when a vampire lunged out of the doorway to her right, leading with a straight right. Faith snatched a hold of the demon’s arm at the wrist and the bicep, twisted at her waist, and flung the demon face-first into the left wall, then caught the demon with a kick to the gut as it spun to face her. The demon grunted as it doubled up, Faith slamming her stake down through the blood-sucker’s back and into her heart.
Faith shone a torch into the darkened room the vampire had raced out of, then nodded when she found it empty. “’Kay,” she stepped out and turned towards the door at the corridor’s end, “what’s behind door numb-.” Faith’s eyes widened as the door in question crashed open and a pair of snarling vampires charged out. Faith leaned left and right, shooting out a side-thrust kick that crashed into the side of the right vampire’s jaw, knocking him into the wall, while delivering an elbow to the face of the left demon’s jaw, flinging him into the opposite wall.
The two demons let out simultaneous roars then leapt at her. Faith caught the right one with a stamp to the ankle, snapping bone. Even as the demon fell, Faith was spinning to face the other, blocking its wildly-swung haymakers on her forearms, then ducking under an overhand right before leaping in and driving a stake deep into the demon’s chest. Faith spun around in time to sidestep the other demon’s stumbling charge and drive an elbow into the side of its neck, knocking it facefirst into the wall, then catching it with a spine-shattering stomp to the lower back. The demon folded like a cheap deckchair, collapsing to the ground, easy target for a stake to the back.
Faith glanced over her shoulder to the open-mouthed agents behind her. “Are we havin’ fun yet?” Faith winked then sobered. “You two throw a pair of those Stark invented ultra-violet grenades into the back room.”
The two agents under-arm threw a pair of globe-shaped grenades through the open doorway, white light briefly blossomed and then Faith was racing through the doorway to find a pile of ash to the entrance’s left and a dropped mini-uzi. Well-thumbed porno magazines were strewn on the glass coffee table together with several empty beer bottles while the drawn curtains at the far end of the room prevented any light from breaking in. “Sweet,” Faith muttered approvingly as she glided behind the over-turned sofa to find another dustpile and another discarded mini-uzi, “score two for Stark Industries.”
Faith turned towards the others. “’Kay, now we backtrace our steps, make sure there ain’t no hidden passages or basements.” Faith stalked after her agents as her men backed out of the dreary room.
* * *
“Today went well don’t you think?”
Faith grinned at X’s query as she leaned back against the seat of the four seater private jet carrying them to their next appointment. That was her boy all over, always gettin’ the job done but always needin’ that little bit of reassurance that made him just as cute of a button. Faith loved his toughness and competence, but adored that he wasn’t like the wannabe bad boys of her youth, swaggering asshats one an’ all. “Went well enough for Fury to approve us going on-line.”
“Yeah,” Xander grinned back at her. “Six offices across the country. We’re goin’ nationwide, baby!”
Faith allowed herself a low laugh. The last eight months had been hectic as hell. They’d been given a mountain of paperwork to go through and office work to select where their offices should be located based on the most supernatural incidences, who they should employ from the thousands of law enforcement and military applications, deciding what equipment they needed, and designing training routines for their new recruits.
But in addition to their sedentary office work, they’d been put through a hell of physical ordeal as well. Training in spycraft from the Black Widow, unarmed martial arts from Iron Fist, archery lessons from Hawkeye, and Elektra teaching them how to use martial arts weaponry, man that chick could wield a mean blade and no mistake.
The physical stuff was of course more difficult for Harris, but she was playin’ major catch-up when it came to learnin’ just who everyone was in this crazy world, who had what powers, whose identity was secret, and so on, so hell of a learning curve. It was lucky they had each to rely on. Still, Faith grinned inwardly, there was no question now, she was the most lethal Slayer ever, and Xan was in the best shape of his life too.
Which was good considerin’ their frenetic sex life. “Hey Harris,” Faith rose with a slink in her hips and winked at her boy-friend. “Never figured we’d get a chance at joinin’ the mile-high club, you interested?”
Xander gave her his trademark ‘damn I can’t believe this is happenin’ to me’ goofy grin. “Oh yeah.”
* * *
“So you’re the two that Stark sent this week.” Henry Peter Gyrich barely managed to contain the sniff he felt. Guest lecturers were all very well as a concept when you were getting the likes of USAgent or Brother Voodoo, but these two nonentities? What a waste of time. The one-eyed man appeared to be a west coast junior version of Nick Fury, complete with the missing eye, while the babe looked like a centrefold playing at superhero.
Of course, given the Ms. Marvels and Spider-Womans of this world, centrefold looks certainly weren’t the be all and end all of everything. Still, Gyrich stared stone-faced at the duo. According to their own words, compiled from their extensive and lengthy debriefings when they first reached this dimension, they were less than impressive. Harris had been the hanger-on to someone who would have been considered a minor-level super hero in this dimension, worse Lehane had been a reformed minor super villain.
So a sidekick and a former criminal of malleable morality. Stark sure knew how to pick them. “Having looked at your files, it’s been a struggle, but I’ve found classes suitable for you to teach. Ms. Lehane, I want you to teach Unarmed Combat – Monday, Wednesday, and Friday 13:30 – 16:00. Mr. Harris, you’re lecturing on the supernatural, every day from 10:00 – 12:00. You have a weekend to ready your lesson plans and when comporting yourselves around the camp, do try to bear in mind Camp Hammond’s morality code.” Gyrich rose. “Gauntlet will give you the guided tour. Goodbye.”
* * *
“Try and bear in mind Camp Hammond’s morality code!” Faith hissed the moment the door closed behind them, leaving them in the chilly corridor waiting for their guide. “Does this dickhead think he’s running a nunnery or somethin’?”
“Faith,” Xander’s hand dropped onto her shoulder, “it doesn’t matter what someone like him thinks, all that matters is what you think of yourself, and what your friends think.”
Faith grinned up at the one-eyed man. “My friend thinks I’m pretty fly, right?”
Xander opened his mouth to reply. “So you’ve met Gyrich?” A thick-set, shaven-headed black man with a huge, gleaming gauntlet encompassing the entirety of his right forearm strode up to them. “He’s a great political operator and administrator, but has all the people skills of a starved piranha.” Gauntlet paused to look at them both. “Fury says you’re okay, and anyone the General says is okay is okay by me. Come on, let me give you the 10 cent tour.”
* * *
The Negative Zone
Jagged lightning flashed across the bleak sky, briefly illuminating the grim surroundings. Craters and cracks erupted without warning across the pock-marked landscape, grey ash belching out of the suddenly appearing and rapidly re-sealing fissures, whipped up into brief typhoons by the constantly howling winds that were apt to change direction on a second’s notice.
Annihilus let out an excited hiss as he saw a gigantic, muscle-bound figure with a grey lionlike mane striding purposefully over the perilous terrain. “Blastaar!” his mandibles clicked together in a rapid rhythm. “You have it?”
His fellow Negative Zone warlord threw his head back and let out a victorious roar. “I do!”
Annihilus let out an ecstatic, birdlike caw. “Show me.” Blastaar had a gleaming grin stretched across his moon-like face as he reached into his robe and pulled out a rectangle steel box with multi-coloured lightning bolts on its top. “Excellent,” Annihilus shivered in anticipation. “Tell me the story again.”
“A few million years after the birth of the other universe it was as now populated by many divergent races, but two civilisations were far more advanced than any of the others, with great galaxy spanning empires. Then one of the two most advanced races began waging war on the other races, obliterating system after system. Ahhh,” Blastaar’s thick whiskers fluttered as he let out a rumbling laugh, “it must have been a most glorious sight. But then, the second race rose up to stop them and for the first time, the first race was balked. The war continued for centuries, devastating systems and wiping countless civilisations from history’s annals. And then,” the Baluurian glanced at the box in his hands, “the first race designed a biological weapon supposed to drive the second race insane.”
Annihilus nodded. He already knew this story, Blastaar having first brought it to him as a precious rumour almost a year ago, but it was such a deliciously destructive story he could never tire of hearing it. “The weapon worked, but not in the way the first race expected. Instead of robbing them of their reason it fundamentally changed their nature, turning them from a defensive-minded race to blood-thirsty, power-crazed conquerors. Such was the change, the first race were soon on the retreat. Where before the second race’s morality held them back in certain regards, now they were utterly remorseless, slaughtering all who resisted or who even just got in the way.” Blastaar let out a rumbling laugh, barrel chest shaking. “In less than a decade the war had gone from bloody deadlock to the first race being on the verge of extinction. In desperation, they closed the device but it was too late, the first race were still wiped out by the second in just a few more years, the second whipped into a fury by their previous actions that almost matched their brain-washed rage. Then when the war was finally over, the weapon was taken and hidden-.”
“Why not destroyed?” Annihilus demanded in a hiss.
Blastaar shrugged his wide shoulders. “I’m not sure, but given certain tests my scientists and mages have run on the container, I believe it would be difficult for anything of the power less than a Galactus, or Celestial to destroy it.”
“And you’ve confirmed who the second race’s descendents are?”
Blastaar’s smirk widened. “They eventually made their way to earth,” Annihilus’ mood dipped at the mention of the hated obstacle and thwarter in so many of his schemes, “where millions of years later their descendents became worshipped as the world’s pantheons, the Asgardians, the Olympians, the Heliopians, and many others.”
Annihilus smiled to himself as a myriad of possibilities raced through his scheming mind. As regards technological advancement, the Earthlings were minor players in the other galaxy, the Kree, Skrulls, and Shi’ar were far more advanced than the Earthers as were other civilisations. And yet, paradoxically, it was the Earthers with their multitude of metas that usually prevented his schemes of expansion. The likes of Thanos also had cause to curse the Earthers. They were an influence on the cosmic scene far beyond their size.
But if he opened the weapon and turned those who called themselves gods insane, Earth would soon become a threat that the other empires wouldn’t be able to ignore, drawing them into a costly war which would weaken all powers, making them all easy targets for his forces to invade and conquer.
Only one thing still worried him. Annihilus let out a hiss. “Can we be sure that the box will still work on the Earthers?”
Blastaar shrugged. “There is only one way to find out”
Annihilus nodded. “Of course, open the box and ready our forces. I want m-, our armies ready to invade in a day’s notice!”