Best Of

A darkened room, a light wind blowing through it, lit only by the crackling, flickering lightbulb above. In this room sat the Collector, the master of all the Battlerealm, who held the power to trap Champions in crystals at his whim. And yet, he sat here, his hair disheveled, bags beginning to lengthen underneath his eyes. So there were some so called "heroes" who dared attack him, eh? So there were some that would rebel? Well, he would be prepared, alright. A few nights would be sacrificed to sleeplessness, and a few dozen of his favorite tools would have to be consumed, but those were nothing compared to his safety.

He looked up at a board, full of plans, full of maps and traps - like the cruellest of Dungeon Masters preparing to kill his entire party. He was satisfied, alright. He was more than satisfied. And best of all, his plans to end this little masquerade once and for all had already begun.

A television next to him crackled to life, tuning into a video feed. On the other hand, the newly shaven face of Frank Castle, the Punisher, and now the Ghost Rider. "Frank!" the Collector exclaimed, looking over at his right-hand man. "It went well, then."

Frank nodded, before observing in a gravelly voice, "You do not look OK."

"I'll be alright. So, did that Protection Relic I gave you come in handy?" the Collector inquired, leaning in closer.

Another slight nod, as the Punisher produced a small, purple artifact from his vest. "Oh, yeah. Came in real handy. You know, the Rider tried to get me with his Penance Stare. If not for this thing, I would've been toast," Frank replied, with a cruel grin.

"Hmph. Well, good for you. See what happens when you're loyal? It pays off," the Collector stated. "Now, I'm going to need that Relic back. It could save my life against this gang of... marauding Champions. You can never be too safe."

"Don't you think you're stressing out about this too much, boss?" Frank asked. "You know, Murdock and I can always hunt them down for you. After the Ghost Rider, and with this..." - he admired the Relic in his hand, from different angles - "it should be easy."

"No, no, Castle. I need you and Murdock elsewhere," the Collector answered, looking over at his meticulously planned board. "I need you two elsewhere. Besides, I've already got plans for those Champions right now. They're about to have quite the... quite the Nightmare."
* * *
Tomorrow - the first of my many musical numbers! Hope this answers one of the questions that came up last time, and hope you get the reference... Thanks for reading everyone!

The bullet strikes him square in the ribs. Before anyone can do anything, before the man himself can register the blow, Tony Stark - genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist - falls to the ground. He looks up at the bot that shot him, torn apart by Quentin's blast of green energy. And yet it is already too late, as he drops Quake and feels blood seep out of his chest, a coldness beginning to ebb from the wound. Quickly, the coldness begins to spread through his body, paralyzing his chest, then his arms and legs, before soon, he can feel nothing. He can see nothing. He only thinks of the machines he will now never build, the innovations he will now never create - the allies, the friends, the family he will now never see again. And with that, the Iron Man dies, leagues away from anything he would call home.
* * *
Coulson and Hank look down at Tony, eyes wide, stunned with disbelief. The latter reaches down, intending to check on Tony's pulse, but Coulson waves him off, looking at the ever increasing pool of blood. "Don't bother," Coulson says, looking up at the enemy still facing them - Matthew Murdock, the Daredevil.

Quentin, with a shout of anger and exertion, lets loose two blasts of green light from his fists. They fly towards the foe, illuminating the darkened hallway, before, aided by his Radar Sense, Daredevil casually leaps over them. Bounding off the walls, leaping from side to side, Daredevil delivers a flying kick to Quentin's face, knocking him into the wall beside him. Landing deftly on his feet, he faces Coulson, who fires his gun several times, but to no avail. The bullets bounce right off of Daredevil's suit, and the Devil of Hell's Kitchen responds with a punch to Coulson's face, then another, then a cracking blow to the chest.

Hank, leaping into action, manages to duck under a hook from Daredevil, striking his foe's knee. As Daredevil staggers back, he kicks Hank, knocking the doctor onto Tony and the still-unconscious Quake. Pressing the advantage, Daredevil grabs Quentin by the shoulders, slamming him into the wall before delivering a brutal punch. Quentin counters, blocking the next hit, and throwing an uppercut. But Daredevil barely flinches, his head going up with a crack before coming right back down, and he throws Quentin across the hallway, into a wall, crushing the panel and caving it in slightly.

As Coulson backed away, reloading his gun, Hank got up, throwing a couple punches, landing one, missing the other. Daredevil responds - one, two, three blows to the face, blood spurting from Hank's broken nose, before Agent Coulson shouts, "Hey!"

Daredevil looks up, rushing towards his foe, and Coulson takes the opportunity to strike. He unloads his gun, firing directly at the red-clad brawler, and though most of the shots bounce off, one hits its target. His head whipping around at the impact, Daredevil pauses for a moment, breathing slowly, as Coulson stands at the ready, his gun still raised. Then, he turns back to face the SHIELD Agent once more, and Coulson sees the effect of his attack - half of Daredevil's jaw is blown out in a horrific spatter of blood. But, Daredevil only takes a moment to carefully wipe the blood from his now mangled cheek, before rushing back in with a yell.

Then, a wave of white, emanating energy struck Daredevil, blowing him clean across the hallway. Confused, Coulson looked around, before finally seeing the source - Quake, arm outstretched, now conscious, had used her powers to blast Daredevil away. "Daisy?" Coulson called, surprised by her sudden recovery.

"Coulson?" came Quake's reply, mouth wide in amazement and surprise.

"Talk... later," Quentin ordered, as he stumbled down the hallway, clutching his side. "We should go, now."

"Got it," Coulson replied, as Hank behind him got to his feet as well. Still on guard, the four of them limped out of the base, and made a quick escape, leaving the cold, still body of Tony Stark behind them.
* * *
Meanwhile, Warren, Johnny, and a small band of heroes - coincidentally, mostly mutants - walked through the Battlerealm's edges. They were just days out from the Proving Grounds, or so they thought. And while they'd run into a few patrols of Symbioids and Adaptoids, those were quickly dispatched by Warren's Neurotoxins and Johnny's motorcycle.

But, just as they came over the top of an asteroid, and saw the gates of the Proving Grounds staring back at them, an ambush came at them which they did not expect. Out of nowhere, a large motorcycle stormed towards them, all aflame, scorching the ground as it went. "Look out!" Warren shouted, readying his wings and assuming a defensive position as the rest of the group scuttled behind him. But, before Warren could deliver an attack towards the incoming vehicle, it sped right past him and the group in a fiery blur.

As Warren watched the bike go, speeding off beyond the horizon and through the stars, he looked around the group, making sure that everyone was still there. And once he had taken a full head count, he realized exactly what had happened, his face going pale.

"Warren? Warren! You OK?" Cyclops called to him.

"Yeah, bub, you look even more freaked out than usual," Wolverine added, with a frown.

"Johnny's gone," Warren whispered, shocked.
* * *
Oblivious to the sudden disappearance of their comrade, the rest of the gang - Thaddeus, Gwen, and a multitude of other heroes - followed Lil' Stan, who took point, leading them forward. "We're... close!" he announced, sniffing the air.

"Alright!" Gwen exclaimed, scanning around for the Proving Grounds. "So, where are we supposed to be?"

"We should rest for tonight," Thaddeus advised. "Don't see the Grounds anywhere. I'm sure we'll get there tomorrow."

Gwen nodded, and the group began to settle down for the night. With a huff, Thaddeus produced a rock from nowhere and slammed it down onto the ground, igniting a fire with his powers. As he, Gwen, and Lil' Stan sat down around the fire, Gwen asked, "Hey, Lil' Stan, how were things back on Thor's ranch? Did you like it over there?"

The Summoned Symbioid shrugged - "It was... alright. Too many like me there."

Thaddeus chuckled heartily, replying, "I think that was rather the point, Stan. Anything interesting happen over there?"

Lil' Stan shrugged, taking a moment to find the words. "We fought... much? How would you say...?"

"A lot? Constantly?" Gwen suggested, causing Lil' Stan to grin maniacally.

"Constantly," the Symbioid responded, nodding. "One of us got thrown into..." He waved his arms around, up at the sky.

"Space," Thaddeus helped.

"No, not space..." Stan replied, moving his hands up and down, before once again waving them wildly at the sky. "It's green...?"

"Oh, a tree!" Gwen exclaimed after a moment, and, again, Lil' Stan grinned.

"Yes," Lil' Stan continued. "Knocked down the tree and..." He reached out his hand, bouncing it up and down through the air four times. "Many behind it."

With a "Heh," Thaddeus asked, "So, what happened to him?"

"Nothing," Lil' Stan answered with a grin. "No one helped him. No one liked him."

"The one who got thrown into the tree, you mean," Thaddeus responded.

"Yes. No one liked Dee... Dee-Sea, was his name," Lil' Stan stated proudly, straightening up and pointing vigorously to himself. "I was the one that threw him into the tree."

Thaddeus and Gwen laughed, and the latter said, "Well, I bet you were the strongest one there, huh, Stan?"

Stan nodded. "Then this should be easy," Gwen stated, looking out over the horizon, knowing somewhere, in the distance, the Collector would be waiting. And, perhaps, that Collector would have finally met his match.
* * *
"Welcome back to the Contest of Comments, your go-to source for all things Contest of Champions," announced a Deadpooloid, facing a vast ocean of seats with only a lone audience member watching, applauding sarcastically. "And now, your host, Taneleer Tivan - the Collector!"

From behind a worn-down, crooked red curtain, the Collector strode out, bowing deeply to his one audience member. "Hello, and welcome back to the Contest of Comments!" he began, taking a microphone with dramatic flourish. "Let's see what's up in the Contest today!"

A voice whispered to the Collector from backstage. "What's that?" he called back.

More whispering. "Viewership numbers are down 20%?"

Another stream of whispers. "Yes, I know, we only have five viewers in the whole Battlerealm, but-"

And now, a hushed, hesitant whisper. "What?!" the Collector bellowed, eyes crossed in fury, staring at his stage assistant, before remembering that he was, in fact, still on stage. Mumbling for a few seconds in frustration, he finally managed, "Due to unfortunate... technical difficulties, today's episode of Contest of Comments will have to be canceled. Until next time!"

Then, promptly, the Collector darted off the stage, and came to face a small video screen. "Oh, Murdock, it's you," he said, staring at the horned, masked face of Daredevil, before noticing the grievous wound that now afflicted Daredevil's jaw. "Ugh. What happened to your face?"

"Your little SHIELD Agent did this to me," Daredevil spat, turning so that the Collector could see the full extent of his injury.

"Alright, I get it!" the Collector responded, turning away from the screen and holding up a hand to block out the horror. "So what? You got shot by one of the hundreds of Coulsons running around this place. This is a Contest after all - you want me to do something about it?"

"They're coming for you," Daredevil warned calmly. "Coulson, Mysterio, I suspect many others. And they've got Quake."

Staring at the screen, silently fuming, the Collector threw a couple artifacts around the room, smashing a couple stone pillars, all while shouting various swear words that would not be fit to print. Seething with anger, he finally took a few deep breaths, and turned back to Daredevil. "I see your point, Murdock," the Collector admitted with a snarl. "Very well. I'll... speak to some of my associates about this. You keep watching them, Murdock. But stay out of sight until I say so."

Daredevil nodded, and the transmission stopped. Turning to another screen, the Collector nodded. "Do it," he ordered simply.
* * *
Seeing the Collector's orders, the man on the other end of the transmission nodded in response, then shut off the transmission. Walking across the asteroid where he stood, his black boots crushing the rock beneath his feet, he bent down and gazed at his prisoner, chained to a small mound of stone. "So, that's the end for you, then," he said to his prisoner, who struggled and tried to break free. "End of the line, Johnny boy."

Johnny Blaze, staring back at him, gritted his teeth as the man slowly pulled out a knife. As his captor readied the knife, Johnny said, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper, "No."

"What was that?" the man asked, pausing for a moment.

"No!" Johnny shouted, bursting free of his chains. As he did so, his head lighted on fire, changing into the familiar skulled visage of the Ghost Rider. Grabbing one of the chains that had previously held him, and setting that aflame, the Ghost Rider walked slowly towards his captor, whipping his chain from side to side - his opponent could only leap out of the way.

With one lash of the chain, and another, and another, the Ghost Rider forced his abductor to retreat. Pulling out a gun, the man fired several shots at him, but they had no effect. A swing of the chain barely missed the man's elbow, tearing off a piece of leather sleeve instead. Opening his mouth wide, the Ghost Rider let loose a blast of hot flame, forcing his enemy to leap over his motorcycle, taking shelter.

With a roar, the Ghost Rider wound up his arm, readying himself to throw the chain and strike the man, before his opponent pulled out a large, Destroyer gun. There was a blast of orange light, and Ghost Rider paused in shock, his arm still back in preparation. He looked down - a large, grapefruit-sized hole had been blown straight through him. In a final moment of fury and vengeance, he looked up at his captor, his killer, and delivered a Penance Stare.

And the man barely flinched.

As the flame of the Ghost Rider faded away in the wind, and Johnny's dead body fell limply to the ground, the attacker called out, "Spirit of Vengeance! I have a deal for you!"

A rising red spirit turned to face the man, who continued staunchly, "I have done great wrong, spirit! I deserve punishment! But there are others out there who deserve it more than me! Join with me, and I will bring vengeance upon those who dare violate the laws of this Battlerealm!"

The Spirit did not consider it very long. It flew into the man, empowering him, setting his skull aflame. And thus Frank Castle, the Punisher, the Collector's right-hand man, became... the Ghost Rider.
* * *
Thank you for reading! I spent all day working on this, and quite frankly I'm a bit exhausted. But I hope you enjoyed it, definitely sets up some things going forward that I hope you'll like (and I hope I'll remember, ha). This is still a CYOA episode, though, so here's where you come in: Tell me what next week's episode should be. It can be anything you like - if you want me to follow Coulson, Quentin, and Quake, I'll do it. If you want me to show the heroes finally making it to the Proving Grounds, alright. If you want me to spend an entire episode on Groots, then... sure? Let me know what you think next week should be focused on, and give the ideas you like an "agree" or something like that so I know which idea has the most support. See you next time!

I'm going show my ignorance here once again, but how is matching with prestige bad? Or how can it be bad? Is the prestige number too inflated or something? Sorry if this seems like a dumb overbeaten question..

I’ll put it in layman’s language.

Let’s use an analogy of the AW Season Rewards being the vast ocean. In the ocean there is a food chain.

By matching with prestige, this causes this vast ocean to be segregated into small ponds of water, and the fish in these small ponds compete amongst each other for the top spot.

So what happens is that you get a small pond of sharks, and a small pond of clownfish (pun intended). The top clownfish, because they’re competing amongst other clownfish, think they deserve to be at the top of the food chain of the ocean, at the same level as the top sharks, because they’re the strongest in their pond.