Storytime - Arc 2 - The Road Goes Ever On
HeroBoltsy
Member Posts: 785 ★★★
Storytime - Issue #4 - Quentin
(Quick disclaimer, spoilers for Spider-Man: Far From Home are discussed in passing in this issue. If for whatever reason you haven't seen it yet, you might want to avoid reading this. You should have seen it already, but just in case - you've been warned!)
You already know many stories of the Battlerealm. The tales of how one Summoner entered the Contest of Champions. How they overthrew the Maestro of the Contest, and stopped the Mad Titan Thanos. How they defeated both the Collector and the Grandmaster, in due time. And how, every step of the way, the Summoner was aided by their loyal, faithful Champions.
This is not one of those stories.
No, this is a tale of a band of heroes, wandering the edges of the Battlerealm. Who misguidedly sought the refuge of Magneto, Master of Magnetism, and who found themselves in grave peril when Agent Phil Coulson and his fleet of Collector-aligned Helicarriers arrived on the scene. Who escaped with their lives just barely, and now find themselves traveling the fringes of the Realm, in search of a goal unknown to their newest member...
* * *
Warren Worthington's gang sat around a small campfire on the middle of an asteroid, tumbling through the depths of space. The orange flames crackled, filling the silence that had fallen over them. As their leader continued to stare into the fire, as if staring pensively into a mirror, the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent that had recently joined the crew, Phil Coulson, glanced over at the mutant's lieutenant - Quentin Beck, who he knew from the Collector's files as Mysterio.
Perhaps I should learn more about this crew while I'm here, Coulson thought to himself, walking over to Beck and saying, "Hey."
It took a moment for Beck to look up at Coulson, so lost in thought was he, but he finally replied, "Oh, hi. Coulson, right?"
"That's right."
"Sorry about... knocking you out there on the Helicarrier. You have to understand-"
"I do. It's alright. I'm sure I would have done the same thing in your shoes," Coulson answered, sitting down next to the armored warrior, his voluminous red cape flowing back and blowing gently in the wind, standing in stark contrast to Coulson's own, simple suit. "So... how did you get here?"
Beck smiled, before dropping his head and shaking it. "You're new, so I don't blame you for asking. But it's something we don't discuss around here. We don't like to talk about it."
"Oh. Sorry. But no, I mean... how did you, specifically, get here, in the Battlerealm?" Coulson clarified, feeling a little sheepish for touching on a sensitive subject. "Were you cracked from a crystal, or...?"
"Oh," Beck responded with a chuckle. "My bad. Yeah, it was a crystal. I remember... before I first saw the Collector, I was... in London. Fighting an Elemental, from another dimension. With Peter, Peter Parker. You know him?"
"The Spider-Man? Yeah. I've read all of the Collector's files on all the champions he has currently loose in the Battlerealm. Even some of the ones that he's keeping to himself for now," Coulson replied.
With an interested look, raising an eyebrow, Beck asked, "And he let you get away with it?", before shouting out to the group at large, "Can we get some more wood? This fire's dwindling a little."
"Oh, no, he encouraged it. Said I'd need to know everything about the champions I'd be... "recollecting" for him."
"That's... horrible, but in a good way. That could help us. I'll let Warren know."
"Alright. I'm happy to help," Coulson replied with a nod as the fire in front of them burst alight again, finding a second life in new fuel. As the orange flames grew brighter, illuminating them amidst the abyss of dark space, he stated, "But I'm interrupting you. You were saying something about London...?"
"Right. I was in London, with Peter and Nick Fury, when suddenly this... portal opened in the air next to me. I thought it was the Elemental's doing - it was part Air Elemental, after all, but out came this old, white-haired, cape wearing man, holding a... a golden, shimmering sphere."
"That was the Collector. And his Iso-Sphere."
"Absolutely. Before I knew it, he had pulled me through the portal, to..." Beck gestured to the heavens above them. "Here. The last thing I heard him saying was that I was a truly special one. That I'd make a fine addition to his collection."
"Hmm," Coulson replied, taking this in. He thought of something, tried to figure out if he should say it or not, and then finally went ahead and stated, "But here's something I don't get. In the Collector's files, whenever he mentions Mysterio-"
"Quentin," came the sharp reply, as Beck stared at Coulson, his gaze suddenly serious. A moment went by, before he looked back at the fire and continued, "Or Beck, whichever you like. Not Mysterio. Please."
"Oh. Sorry. Uh, whenever he mentions you, or every variation of you in the Battlerealm, London always comes up as a... charade. A scheme, that you masterminded to make yourself the next Avenger," Coulson stated, holding his breath and waiting for what he was sure would be a fierce rebuke from Beck.
But instead, Beck chuckled, slightly at first, before crescendoing into a deep, hearty laugh. "Oh, that's good. I've heard that one before. Always gets me," Beck replied, a wide grin on his face.
Confused, Coulson asked, "But then... what about EDITH? What about the- the illusions and the staged attacks... all of that?"
"Maybe you won't be as much help to Warren as I thought at first," Beck replied, still chuckling a bit. "That's most of the versions of me running around this Battlerealm, I'll admit. But that wasn't the way it was in the universe where I come from. The gang and I figured it out when I ran into an alternate version of myself here... turns out, for all the lies the other me's spouted in all those other dimensions, those very lies were true where I came from."
"So then you're actually from... a different universe than the one where the Collector took you from? There were actually Elementals, real Elementals coming to that universe?" Coulson asked, fascinated - he'd never heard of such drastic variations between Champions. Minor differences, perhaps, in costume or in personality, but never something so... different!
"That's right. The Collector put me in a crystal, a deep, red, spiked thing that... let me breathe and kept me alive, but kept me from moving. It was a few months, maybe years, before I was let out," Beck continued, recollecting his time in his crystal with a faraway look in his eye, reliving unpleasant memories.
"So why did the Collector let you out?" Coulson asked, as the fire in front of him dimmed, casting his face in shadow once more. "He never put me in a crystal... said I had use to him. Well, me and my Helicarriers. But surely there was a reason that he let you out?"
"No. It wasn't the Collector who let me out," Beck replied, calling over to the rest of the group, "Hey, can we get some more kindling over here? Fire's dying down! Thanks."
"So then who was it that let you out?" queried Coulson, hearing some distant voice in the background, but ignoring it, and leaning in closer.
"Same person that let us all out," Beck replied, looking out across the camp full of champions. "The Summoner."
"But that's just what the Collector calls all the humans who enter the Battlerealm, who are entrusted with the command of the Champions, who fight in this Contest! There are hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of Summoners!" Coulson cried. "Surely, your Summoner must have been different in some way, went by a codename or-"
"Boltsy. That was his name," Beck replied sharply, watching the heroes who could hear him stop and stiffen for a moment, before letting his words fade away in the wind. Coulson did not press the matter further. Beck had said all he needed to say.
"What's Warren like?" Coulson asked, after a few moments of silence.
"He's a great leader, and a good friend," Beck replied with a warm smile, looking over at their leader who still stared into the depths of the fire. "He's gotten us this far. I'm not sure we would have made it without him."
"So why you, of all people, to be his right hand man?" Coulson questioned, looking around - from the files he'd read, he easily identified at least half a dozen more trustworthy individuals. Then again, Beck had just proven the files he'd read weren't always exactly accurate.
"I don't know, really. Maybe it's because I have the most experience, both before I got put in the crystal and after I was freed from it? I'm not sure. I never asked him. Never needed to, really," Beck replied. "But I gotta say, Coulson, I'm glad you chose to stick around with us. This is a great group of people here. I think you'll certainly be very useful to us, and I'm happy that we're able to liberate another person from the Collector's influence."
Coulson only nodded, looking out across the asteroid and analyzing the men and women around him. But he kept his judgements to himself, and looked back at Beck, who was gazing up into the stars and reminiscing on fonder memories. "You won't believe some of the adventures we've had before we ran into you. See, there was this time," Beck stated, trying to keep himself from laughing. "There was this time that seven Iron Patriots ambushed us, and Warren- Warren was about to take them all, before Groot - Groot, of all people! - stepped forward and said something. It was, uh..."
"I am Groot, probably," Coulson replied with a smile, the words coming to him so easily, as if he'd heard them recently.
"That was it. Three words. That was all, and all seven Osborn's went crawling right back to where they'd come from. Apparently Groot has some sort of advantage over them or something," Beck explained, barely controlling himself. "It was- it was just the funniest thing. Three words, and they ran right back to the shadows from which they came."
Then, he got a little irritated, and stood up, the metal plates on his chest clinking slightly as he did. "Where is Groot, anyways? Haven't seen him for a while," Beck called out to the group before him. "And can we get some more kindling on this fire?"
The group of heroes in front of him froze - they were all thinking the same thing, but none of them wanted to say it. Agent Coulson looked up at Beck, and then to the fire, and then to the group, and back again to the fire, cycling through amazement and shock all at the same time. Beck, too, slowly realized what had happened, and slowly, slowly sat down. Not knowing whether to put out the fire - no, surely it was a funeral pyre now - or let it burn for as long and bright as it could.
* * *
Thanks for reading, everyone! I know this is going up pretty late, didn't feel so well in the morning so I couldn't put it up when I usually do, sorry about that. I hope you enjoyed this more character-centric episode, do let me know your thoughts, and I'll see you next Monday, for the next edition of Storytime, here on this thread!
(Quick disclaimer, spoilers for Spider-Man: Far From Home are discussed in passing in this issue. If for whatever reason you haven't seen it yet, you might want to avoid reading this. You should have seen it already, but just in case - you've been warned!)
You already know many stories of the Battlerealm. The tales of how one Summoner entered the Contest of Champions. How they overthrew the Maestro of the Contest, and stopped the Mad Titan Thanos. How they defeated both the Collector and the Grandmaster, in due time. And how, every step of the way, the Summoner was aided by their loyal, faithful Champions.
This is not one of those stories.
No, this is a tale of a band of heroes, wandering the edges of the Battlerealm. Who misguidedly sought the refuge of Magneto, Master of Magnetism, and who found themselves in grave peril when Agent Phil Coulson and his fleet of Collector-aligned Helicarriers arrived on the scene. Who escaped with their lives just barely, and now find themselves traveling the fringes of the Realm, in search of a goal unknown to their newest member...
* * *
Warren Worthington's gang sat around a small campfire on the middle of an asteroid, tumbling through the depths of space. The orange flames crackled, filling the silence that had fallen over them. As their leader continued to stare into the fire, as if staring pensively into a mirror, the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent that had recently joined the crew, Phil Coulson, glanced over at the mutant's lieutenant - Quentin Beck, who he knew from the Collector's files as Mysterio.
Perhaps I should learn more about this crew while I'm here, Coulson thought to himself, walking over to Beck and saying, "Hey."
It took a moment for Beck to look up at Coulson, so lost in thought was he, but he finally replied, "Oh, hi. Coulson, right?"
"That's right."
"Sorry about... knocking you out there on the Helicarrier. You have to understand-"
"I do. It's alright. I'm sure I would have done the same thing in your shoes," Coulson answered, sitting down next to the armored warrior, his voluminous red cape flowing back and blowing gently in the wind, standing in stark contrast to Coulson's own, simple suit. "So... how did you get here?"
Beck smiled, before dropping his head and shaking it. "You're new, so I don't blame you for asking. But it's something we don't discuss around here. We don't like to talk about it."
"Oh. Sorry. But no, I mean... how did you, specifically, get here, in the Battlerealm?" Coulson clarified, feeling a little sheepish for touching on a sensitive subject. "Were you cracked from a crystal, or...?"
"Oh," Beck responded with a chuckle. "My bad. Yeah, it was a crystal. I remember... before I first saw the Collector, I was... in London. Fighting an Elemental, from another dimension. With Peter, Peter Parker. You know him?"
"The Spider-Man? Yeah. I've read all of the Collector's files on all the champions he has currently loose in the Battlerealm. Even some of the ones that he's keeping to himself for now," Coulson replied.
With an interested look, raising an eyebrow, Beck asked, "And he let you get away with it?", before shouting out to the group at large, "Can we get some more wood? This fire's dwindling a little."
"Oh, no, he encouraged it. Said I'd need to know everything about the champions I'd be... "recollecting" for him."
"That's... horrible, but in a good way. That could help us. I'll let Warren know."
"Alright. I'm happy to help," Coulson replied with a nod as the fire in front of them burst alight again, finding a second life in new fuel. As the orange flames grew brighter, illuminating them amidst the abyss of dark space, he stated, "But I'm interrupting you. You were saying something about London...?"
"Right. I was in London, with Peter and Nick Fury, when suddenly this... portal opened in the air next to me. I thought it was the Elemental's doing - it was part Air Elemental, after all, but out came this old, white-haired, cape wearing man, holding a... a golden, shimmering sphere."
"That was the Collector. And his Iso-Sphere."
"Absolutely. Before I knew it, he had pulled me through the portal, to..." Beck gestured to the heavens above them. "Here. The last thing I heard him saying was that I was a truly special one. That I'd make a fine addition to his collection."
"Hmm," Coulson replied, taking this in. He thought of something, tried to figure out if he should say it or not, and then finally went ahead and stated, "But here's something I don't get. In the Collector's files, whenever he mentions Mysterio-"
"Quentin," came the sharp reply, as Beck stared at Coulson, his gaze suddenly serious. A moment went by, before he looked back at the fire and continued, "Or Beck, whichever you like. Not Mysterio. Please."
"Oh. Sorry. Uh, whenever he mentions you, or every variation of you in the Battlerealm, London always comes up as a... charade. A scheme, that you masterminded to make yourself the next Avenger," Coulson stated, holding his breath and waiting for what he was sure would be a fierce rebuke from Beck.
But instead, Beck chuckled, slightly at first, before crescendoing into a deep, hearty laugh. "Oh, that's good. I've heard that one before. Always gets me," Beck replied, a wide grin on his face.
Confused, Coulson asked, "But then... what about EDITH? What about the- the illusions and the staged attacks... all of that?"
"Maybe you won't be as much help to Warren as I thought at first," Beck replied, still chuckling a bit. "That's most of the versions of me running around this Battlerealm, I'll admit. But that wasn't the way it was in the universe where I come from. The gang and I figured it out when I ran into an alternate version of myself here... turns out, for all the lies the other me's spouted in all those other dimensions, those very lies were true where I came from."
"So then you're actually from... a different universe than the one where the Collector took you from? There were actually Elementals, real Elementals coming to that universe?" Coulson asked, fascinated - he'd never heard of such drastic variations between Champions. Minor differences, perhaps, in costume or in personality, but never something so... different!
"That's right. The Collector put me in a crystal, a deep, red, spiked thing that... let me breathe and kept me alive, but kept me from moving. It was a few months, maybe years, before I was let out," Beck continued, recollecting his time in his crystal with a faraway look in his eye, reliving unpleasant memories.
"So why did the Collector let you out?" Coulson asked, as the fire in front of him dimmed, casting his face in shadow once more. "He never put me in a crystal... said I had use to him. Well, me and my Helicarriers. But surely there was a reason that he let you out?"
"No. It wasn't the Collector who let me out," Beck replied, calling over to the rest of the group, "Hey, can we get some more kindling over here? Fire's dying down! Thanks."
"So then who was it that let you out?" queried Coulson, hearing some distant voice in the background, but ignoring it, and leaning in closer.
"Same person that let us all out," Beck replied, looking out across the camp full of champions. "The Summoner."
"But that's just what the Collector calls all the humans who enter the Battlerealm, who are entrusted with the command of the Champions, who fight in this Contest! There are hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of Summoners!" Coulson cried. "Surely, your Summoner must have been different in some way, went by a codename or-"
"Boltsy. That was his name," Beck replied sharply, watching the heroes who could hear him stop and stiffen for a moment, before letting his words fade away in the wind. Coulson did not press the matter further. Beck had said all he needed to say.
"What's Warren like?" Coulson asked, after a few moments of silence.
"He's a great leader, and a good friend," Beck replied with a warm smile, looking over at their leader who still stared into the depths of the fire. "He's gotten us this far. I'm not sure we would have made it without him."
"So why you, of all people, to be his right hand man?" Coulson questioned, looking around - from the files he'd read, he easily identified at least half a dozen more trustworthy individuals. Then again, Beck had just proven the files he'd read weren't always exactly accurate.
"I don't know, really. Maybe it's because I have the most experience, both before I got put in the crystal and after I was freed from it? I'm not sure. I never asked him. Never needed to, really," Beck replied. "But I gotta say, Coulson, I'm glad you chose to stick around with us. This is a great group of people here. I think you'll certainly be very useful to us, and I'm happy that we're able to liberate another person from the Collector's influence."
Coulson only nodded, looking out across the asteroid and analyzing the men and women around him. But he kept his judgements to himself, and looked back at Beck, who was gazing up into the stars and reminiscing on fonder memories. "You won't believe some of the adventures we've had before we ran into you. See, there was this time," Beck stated, trying to keep himself from laughing. "There was this time that seven Iron Patriots ambushed us, and Warren- Warren was about to take them all, before Groot - Groot, of all people! - stepped forward and said something. It was, uh..."
"I am Groot, probably," Coulson replied with a smile, the words coming to him so easily, as if he'd heard them recently.
"That was it. Three words. That was all, and all seven Osborn's went crawling right back to where they'd come from. Apparently Groot has some sort of advantage over them or something," Beck explained, barely controlling himself. "It was- it was just the funniest thing. Three words, and they ran right back to the shadows from which they came."
Then, he got a little irritated, and stood up, the metal plates on his chest clinking slightly as he did. "Where is Groot, anyways? Haven't seen him for a while," Beck called out to the group before him. "And can we get some more kindling on this fire?"
The group of heroes in front of him froze - they were all thinking the same thing, but none of them wanted to say it. Agent Coulson looked up at Beck, and then to the fire, and then to the group, and back again to the fire, cycling through amazement and shock all at the same time. Beck, too, slowly realized what had happened, and slowly, slowly sat down. Not knowing whether to put out the fire - no, surely it was a funeral pyre now - or let it burn for as long and bright as it could.
* * *
Thanks for reading, everyone! I know this is going up pretty late, didn't feel so well in the morning so I couldn't put it up when I usually do, sorry about that. I hope you enjoyed this more character-centric episode, do let me know your thoughts, and I'll see you next Monday, for the next edition of Storytime, here on this thread!
9
Comments
And the implication was supposed to be that they had a campfire, and accidentally tossed Groot into the fire. IDK if that's why I racked up disagrees or not, but there it is, in case you needed that clarification. Glad you enjoyed it!
Did they mistake him for firewood or something? How is that even possible?
Looking back on the specific wording though, I do see where I might not have been as clear as possible. I was going for a kind of faux melodramatic tone in the last paragraph there, but I think that might not have been as clear on paper as it might have been in, say, spoken performance. I'm glad you found it funny, though. My first shot at planned, real humor in this series!
Really liked the exposition of this version of Beck, I now feel attached (don’t throw him into the fire). I’m not sure about Coulson yet, but I like that he’s also being given a bit of exposition. You brought up a lot of questions, and I want the answers. What is the end goal for this group? How did they get to this group? Will anyone ever crack a joke? Will Quentin find love? (I mean this as a joke, but if you want too include it...)
Overall, loved this chapter, my second favorite behind last weeks. It’s nice to see something that’s not a bad tier list (mine is obviously Groot) or a complaint.
It's funny how the tier lists and complaints get more views though. Certainly interesting. I should look into that "interview-with-forumers" thing more.
However, so as to not disappoint you, I'm going to throw together a short little poem right now (since I've got fond memories of poetry on this forum... see MCU but it Rhymes) in the universe of Storytime. Let's see, here we go:
Did you ever hear
The story of a man
So wise, so dear,
Every room he was in,
He filled up with cheer.
The people loved their
Dearest captain.
And he'd go where
He was needed,
For that was only fair.
But he and his friend,
Who once was his greatest strength,
Saw their friendship end,
And a conflict begin,
Many wounds to tend.
And so it became,
That this beloved hero,
With love and fame,
Was fated to be nothing more
Than a single player in a gigantic game.
And now this pitiful grunt,
Seeks out our heroes,
In his final hunt.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed that short little poem, and I hope you'll forgive me for pausing my work on this for a little. Stay safe, everyone
This is not one of those stories.
No, this is a tale of a band of heroes, wandering the edges of the Battlerealm. Who misguidedly sought the refuge of Magneto, Master of Magnetism, and who found themselves in grave peril when Agent Phil Coulson and his fleet of Collector-aligned Helicarriers arrived on the scene. Who escaped with their lives just barely, and now find themselves traveling the fringes of the Realm, in search of a goal unknown to their newest member...
* * *
Another few weeks had passed, and still Warren and his gang of heroes trekked through the outer wilds of the Battlerealm. With them went Agent Coulson, still in the dark about what their true purpose was. He'd kept quiet for a few weeks, not wanting to impede on the tight-knit group's silent but evident grieving after the tragic accident of Groot that he'd witnessed before. But finally, as the group slowed their pace over the winding, twisting asteroids and set up camp once more, Coulson drew up his courage and walked over to the nearest champions he saw - Thaddeus Ross, the Red Hulk, and Gwen Poole, the... Gwenpool, he supposed.
"Oh, hey, Coulson!" Gwen called, waving a hand at the approaching Agent. Ross, on the other hand, just glanced over at him for a single second before turning away.
"Hi," Coulson replied. "Mind if I sit?"
"Go ahead," Gwen answered. "Something on your mind?"
"No, not really. I just want to know where we're going, that's all," said Coulson.
"Oh, Warren said we aren't really allowed to tell you yet. Not until we get there," Gwen replied hesitantly. "Buuuuut maybe if you guess it...?"
With a sigh, Coulson began, "Alright. Is it somewhere... somewhere big, maybe? Avengers Tower, or the X-Mansion? I gotta say, if we're going to Avengers Tower, that's a terrible-"
"Nope. Neither of those. It's a... smaller place than you'd think, I think."
"Smaller? The Milano, maybe? I know that's close by..."
"Wrong again. It is one word, though. Well, I guess "The" and one word, but still. Last try!"
Agent Coulson frowned at this, uncertain - he cycled through all the locations he knew of that fit that description, and considered what the other heroes had told him before. They were looking for some warrior, he vaguely recalled overhearing before, someone who could protect them. He hazarded a final guess - "The Garden? Thanos' Garden?"
At this, Ross - who had been so uninterested in their discussion before - let out a loud, hearty laugh, surprising Coulson. "You think we seek Thanos' help? Ha! Poole here took down Thanos himself singlehandedly," Ross chuckled, with no small amount of pride on his teammate's behalf. "Twice!"
"That's right. Sorry, Agent, three strikes and you're out. I'm sure you'll find out soon, though. We're getting close, after all," Gwen added.
"So, I saw you two in battle at Asteroid M. Just for a few moments, but... you two seem to have each other's backs," Coulson observed. "I'm guessing you're some of the older heroes in Warren's gang?"
Ross laughed again - "We're both the first of our kind, in a way. 'cept Poole was actually the first one here, out of all of us."
Staring at them in confusion, with a polite but puzzled smile, Coulson asked, "You're the oldest Champion here? You were the first one freed from their crystal?"
Gwen nodded. "That's right," she answered. "I've been here, I think, three years."
"So then... why aren't you leading them?" Coulson asked. "I'd have thought that Warren was leading out of seniority or something."
"Nope. He's just a better leader than me, that's all. I'm sure if Captain America were here, he'd be running the show instead. It's just who's most qualified, you know?" Gwen replied.
"So what do you do around here?" Coulson asked, curious.
Shrugging, Gwen replied, "Mostly I just tell stories that I've read before. The guys really liked the Infinity Saga, although Thanos was a lot less scary the first time I fought him. Still really cool to just be here, you know? I mean, I read about the Hulk and Ghost Rider my whole life, and now they're, like, five feet away from me. Not just that, but it's normal, too."
"I know how you feel," Coulson stated, thinking back to the first time he'd met Captain America and the rest of the Avengers. Then, he turned his attention to Ross, asking, "So, you said both of you were the first of your kind. What's yours, Ross?"
"He's the most powerful one among all of us! Well, he could be, anyways, if he got around to actually getting stronger," Gwen stated, before Ross could say anything. "Isn't that right?"
With a thin smile wavering between furious and amused, Ross defended, "Hey, look, Catalysts are super hard to come by. But yeah, they say I could be the strongest of us all one day. Something like that."
"I think I understand," Coulson answered, remembering that the Collector had once spoken to him about the different rarities of champions - how the rarer ones had greater potential, and all that. He suspected that Ross could be one of the extremely rare "six-stars" that the Collector had told him about one day, and asked, "So, the crystal you were freed from, was it red, or blue, or...?"
"Blue," Ross replied, and Coulson nodded, his theory confirmed. "Gwen here was the first champion in Warren's gang that I met. Things are always more fun with her around, that's for sure. And she fights great, too."
"One more thing," Coulson asked, and the two champions looked over at him, anticipating his question. "What do you know about Bolt-"
"You mean the Thunderbolts?" Ross replied, before Coulson had even finished his question. "That was my team, once upon a time. I still see some of them around here. Especially that devilish Osborne, he seems to pop up everywhere!"
"Absolutely everywhere!" Gwen added. "You know, there was this one time..."
And before Coulson could continue, Gwen had launched into a tale of how they'd run into former Thunderbolts colleagues and Ross had summarily beat them all up, one by one. The general didn't seem like he'd be stopping anytime soon, so Coulson got up and walked off to the edge of the asteroid, staring out towards the stars. He didn't get the answers he wanted - didn't seem like he'd get them anytime soon - but he thought he perhaps understood why Ross and Gwen were seemingly so inseparable.
I think Ross reminds Gwen of his daughter, Coulson thought. Betty, I think her name is. She must not be around here in the Contest, so Gwen's the next best thing, I suppose. That's good for them. They're like a family - whole group is. I know they're a little hesitant to let me into the group, but I'm sure I'll find out where we're going someday. We'll get there eventually, then maybe whichever Champion these guys are seeking out can help me get my own daughter back.
With that, Coulson looked out towards the horizon, wondering what strange new worlds, or new heroes, even new organizations that he'd encounter on his travels with Warren's gang next.
* * *
I'm back! Sorry for the break the last two weeks, but I'm thankfully much more free now. I'm looking forward to both getting back to Storytime and some of my own work. I feel like this week might be a shorter episode, and I'm going to be honest it was a little bit of a weird one for me to write. I hope you liked it, nonetheless. Next week: I'm going for what's going to be my most experimental issue yet! Thanks for reading, everyone.
I'll post Issue #6 today, sorry for the wait
This is not one of those stories.
No, this is a tale of a band of heroes, wandering the edges of the Battlerealm. Who misguidedly sought the refuge of Magneto, Master of Magnetism, and who found themselves in grave peril when Agent Phil Coulson and his fleet of Collector-aligned Helicarriers arrived on the scene. Who escaped with their lives just barely, and now find themselves traveling the fringes of the Realm, approaching a goal still unknown to their newest member...
* * *
"You sure you want to talk to him? Johnny doesn't speak much," Beck asked, looking over at Coulson uncertainly.
"Correction - he doesn't speak at all," Warren added. "Who knows what could happen if you talk to him too long, if you say something he doesn't like something you say?"
"He kinda just hangs around here and follows us," Gwen whispered. "No one really knows why he's still here."
"It's alright. I think I know what he's going through. The spirit of the Ghost Rider can be... tough to deal with, I know," Coulson replied. "I'll be alright."
With that, he stepped over to a small rock, where, in full leather gear, a sullen Johnny Blaze sat. His expression was at once concerned and terrified, and he gazed off into nothingness. Coulson looked down at Johnny, and asked, "Mind if I sit?"
Johnny looked up at the Agent, and then went right back into his thousand-yard stare. With a shrug, Coulson sat down next to him. "So, you're Johnny Blaze. The Ghost Rider. I've read about you, in all my SHIELD files, and all the files the Collector gave me, too," Coulson began. "Do you know who I am?"
But there was no response.
"I met someone like you once. Robbie Reyes. Did you ever meet anyone with that name?"
Johnny looked over, his expression unchanging, staring at Coulson for a few seconds. Then, he returned to his previous position.
"Now, Robbie Reyes, he had a car that had some of his power in it. And I've heard that you have a bike, a motorcycle that's like Robbie's. Do you still have it? It might help us - help you - scout out a little farther ahead," Coulson asked.
Johnny looked back to Coulson. He gave only the slightest shake of his head, so small that Coulson might've mistaken it for the mere effects of the tumbling asteroid they were floating on.
"What happened to it?"
Johnny looked down, grimacing.
"Alright. Do you know where we're going?"
Warren took a step towards Coulson, before Beck held him back. Johnny, meanwhile, only gave a slight nod.
"Where?"
Johnny looked out towards the horizon, pointing. Coulson didn't know exactly what he was pointing at, as the sky was so full of asteroids and rocks, so he clarified, "Which one?"
Johnny pointed again, more forcefully this time, while glaring at Coulson, and for a moment the Agent could've sworn that his head had lit on fire.
"Do you know why we're going there?"
A shake of the head, more pronounced.
"Is it because you don't know why... or you don't want to tell me?"
Another glare. Another flash of flame.
"Alright. I understand... Do you know why we're running?"
A scowl from Johnny.
"Is someone hunting us?"
At this point, it seemed that Coulson had crossed a line - Warren stormed towards the Agent and said calmly, "I think that's enough."
"Who's hunting us?" Coulson asked Johnny, staying focused.
"That's enough, Agent," Warren stated firmly.
After a moment, Coulson looked over to the grounded Archangel and nodded. "Alright," he replied, getting up and walking away voluntarily. But as Quentin and Warren escorted him away from the lone Rider, Coulson glanced back and saw the flaming skull of the Ghost Rider staring towards him. The orange flames flickered in the wind, casting a grim light across the entire camp, and catching the attention of more than a few champions. It struck a sort of terror into Coulson, like a warning of something to come.
Then, he got brought to an isolated corner of the asteroid, practically being shoved down onto a rock. His nervousness multiplied as he looked up at a stern-looking Warren, glaring down at him. "OK. Enough is enough," Warren stated gravely. But then, he said something that Coulson wasn't anticipating -
"Time to tell you what's really going on here.
* * *
Thanks for reading, everyone! I really hope you enjoyed this week, as always. Next time, I'm going to pull back the veil on some of the secrets I've been keeping on Storytime for a while... get ready for the next Arc, coming very soon!
I’m predicting Kamala’s house is where they’re going
And sorry about the cliffhanger. I hate them myself, but it was the only logical way I could see myself ending this issue.
But uh, the Black Iso Mafia? It doesn’t sound (or feel) right, but it’s logical in a sense.
This is not one of those stories.
No, this is a tale of a band of heroes, wandering the edges of the Battlerealm. Who misguidedly sought the refuge of Magneto, Master of Magnetism, and who found themselves joined by Agent Phil Coulson, a defector from the Collector's regime. Who now find themselves trusting enough to finally let the SHIELD Agent in on the secret...
* * *
It has been... well, a long, long time since I was freed from my crimson crystal by... a man, a small little man, smaller than you or me, hidden inside a spacesuit. I couldn't see their face. It was obscured by a crystalline orb of a helmet. I'd later learn that this man's name was Boltsy. One of the many Summoners in this realm.
His first words to me, believe it or not, were, "This will make a fine addition to my collection."
"This." Not you, not him, this. And that's how it went for three years.
I'd do the fighting for him. If we ran into, say, Ultron or the Hulk, Gwen and Magik, may she rest in peace, would handle it. But in most cases - far more often than not - it was me doing the work. All while that stupid Summoner just... stood there, watching. Waiting.
He wasn't very popular from the get-go. After all, he was the guy who was keeping us basically enslaved, fighting for him. Anytime he popped open another one of those... insidious crystals, we always knew more about the new guy than we ever knew about him. He was always so distant, and, without question, I can say he cared for us very little.
Every month, he'd take us on a new quest, but he never really cared about us. Only about getting the rewards that lay at the end of the quest, breaking free those champions only to enslave them as well. He neglected those of us he saw as "weaker", or lower rarity, or not as good, all in his quest to get the most money he could out of this realm. It was... unsettling to say the least. Boltsy wasn't a bad person, necessarily, just... his mind was always somewhere else.
But then... something happened. It was terrifying, actually. He decided he didn't need us anymore, that he could do the fighting himself. "I've watched you enough times," he thought. "I know how to fight! I don't need any of you."
He was going to leave us out there, stranded, in the Battlerealm's wastes. I said no, that would be practically killing us. And all he did was laugh - "There's so many more of you out there! One doesn't make any difference..."
Then, it happened so quick, I barely remember it. Someone threw a punch, he fought back, and, to his credit, he held up pretty well. Up until Johnny arrived.
Johnny fought him, hand to hand. A right hook, parried expertly. A kick, dodged with great dexterity. Boltsy got out of range of Johnny's chain as he lashed it at him, before charging in and delivering five hits, quick punches to Johnny's chest. As clumsy as they were, it made Johnny scared, and the rest of us too - this guy actually kinda knew what he was doing.
So Johnny stared him down. Right into his eyes, through the spaceman helmet. Good old fashioned Penance Stare. And that... that killed him. Right then and there. His body's still where we left it, as far as I know.
After that, Johnny stopped using the Spirit of Vengeance. Stopped talking at all, he's that guilty. Quentin, he stopped wearing his helmet. You've seen the resemblance, I'm sure. And as soon as the shock ended, we knew we had to run. Someone would find us. We needed to fight back, against the Summoners who enslaved us, against the Collectors who collected us... but we needed to run first. We had to hide.
* * *
"That's why we went to Magneto's. We needed a place to hide, after all, a safe place. You found us there. And, as you know, we've been running ever since," Warren concluded, finishing his tale to Agent Coulson, who was watching on intently, nodding along.
"So that's why you were fugitives from the Collector. From me," Coulson stated. "You killed your Summoner."
Wordlessly, Warren gave the slightest of nods. It was enough.
"And you're still running? You're still... looking for a hole to hide in?"
"Not anymore," Warren replied, getting up and shaking the grim expression off his face. He trudged over to the edge of the asteroid they were floating on, his fellow Champions following him, and gazed out at the horizon. There, in front of them, was a large asteroid, much like Asteroid M. Only, where Asteroid M had been artificial and developed, this was nothing more than a peaceful, rural farm. Rows of green stalks and tall trees ran up and down the asteroid, brown dirt coated the asteroid instead of grey, silver rock. And amidst it all were nothing more than a few farmers, and a simple shack in the middle.
"We're here," Warren stated, and, with a push from the mystics, the asteroid sent itself towards the farm. It took no more than a few moments for the asteroids to collide, softly, like a train sliding into the station. The champions stepped off from their previous asteroid, and wandered through the peaceful, serene rows of crops, their leaves and stems blowing softly in the wind.
They made their way towards the wooden hut at the middle of the asteroid, seeing a few silhouettes around them but no one close by. Walking up to the door, Warren hesitated for a moment, before rapping the door with his fist, metal scraping against wood. Then, the door opened, and out stepped a large, hulking man, in a simple red tunic. Stroking his thick, brown beard, he bellowed, "Who comes before Thor Odinson, keeper of this Farm?"
"Hey, Thor," Warren replied, as Agent Coulson's eyes went wide - he hadn't seen a Thor in years! "We need... well, you know what we need."
"Verily, of course I do," Thor replied, walking into his house. "Follow me. I hast what you seek."
"Hey, Thor!" Gwen called as they headed through the rickety old hut, bare of all decorations save a small kitchen, a bed, a couch, and a TV. "Is that Mjölnir over there?"
She pointed at a brick-like hammer lying in a dark corner of the room, its engraved, worn handle pointing straight up. "Yes, 'tis mighty Mjölnir that lies there," Thor stated, and Coulson almost walked over to pick it up, before Thor continued, "No man may touch it. Even I am not currently worthy of its power. Best to leave it there."
His face falling, Coulson nevertheless asked, "So, are you the original Thor, or Ragnarok Thor, or..."
"Hmph! I am Thor Odinson! But yes, if you were to consider me one of the three kinds of Thors running around this Battlerealm, I would be the original!" Thor declared.
"How.. how long have you been here?" Coulson asked. "I haven't heard of this place... ever."
"Ha! It is a very classified location. Only the Collector himself knows of this place - well, him and Warren, who I did meet in my days as a regular champion. Now I live in retirement, here. And I am... happy," Thor replied, glancing over at his hammer for a second before stepping out into the back. It was exactly the same as the front - rows of crops, trees, and such lining the entirety of the asteroid. But, here, the mysterious farmhands they'd seen earlier were much closer. And it was here that Coulson realized why they had traveled here in the first place.
"They're Symbioids?" Coulson asked, staring out at the pitch-black figures that worked the farm. White lines ran up and down their arms, and they grinned permanently, tilling the soil and planting the crops.
"Yep," Ross stated as he lumbered after the party, traveling across the farm.
"You see, we're all pro fighters, but we're not strong enough to take on the Collector's goons which are, surely, following us," Warren explained. "But, once upon a time, the Collector himself gave Boltsy a champion strong enough to defeat the Collector's minions."
"Now, I have seen much in my time in the Contest. I have seen strange mixes of heroes created with the blackest of magic, stranger heroes still join the contest - I even did see a most powerful Kamala Khan one day! The audacity of the Summoner who devoted their precious ISO to her is matched only by the strength of said Champion!" Thor declared. "Speaking of ISO, that is what we grow here." He knelt down by the dirt, and pulled on a green stem, pulling out a brick of glowing green substance.
"But I digress! In all my time in the Contest, never have I seen a stronger fighter than the Summoned Symbioids which the Collector didst give all the Summoners of this realm to fight with, for but a month," Thor added, gesturing to the Symbioids around him. "And each gained a powerful bond with their Summoner. There's Steve, and Phil, and all these other Symbioids that got... confiscated from their Summoners. But Warren's Symbioid is different. He forged a bond, not with the Summoner, but with the summoned. Ah, here he is, Warren and friends!"
They came to a specific Symbioid in the middle of the field - this one looked like all the others, with the same face, the same muscles, the same strange white lines running up and down its body. But it had one thing different. It had a little white line going across its upper lip, like some sort of mustache, and grinned genuinely while the other Symbioids seemed to grimace or growl.
Upon seeing Warren, the Symbioid's already large grin grew even wider, and he threw his tool aside, embracing his friend. "Warren!" the Symbioid shouted, in a mangled, guttural voice.
"Good to see you to, Lil' Stan," Warren replied.
"I'm sorry, what did you just call him?" Coulson asked, utterly confused - he'd never heard tell of any Symbioid ever speaking, nor being so friendly with another Champion.
"Oh, that's Lil' Stan!" Gwen declared. "We taught him a few words of English, after the great creator of us all. Go on, Lil' Stan, say something for the SHIELD Agent!"
Lil' Stan grinned.
And grinned.
And grinned.
And finally, he managed to cry, "Excelsior!"
Extraordinarily stunned, Coulson stared, his mouth agape, before finally fainting and falling over, faceplanting in the soft soil.
* * *
Thank you for reading, everyone! Man, it feels good to finally get all that out there. I'm so happy you guys are still with me, still reading week after week. I've been waiting to pull that twist since the beginning of Storytime. After this, I think I'll take a break next week, reload for Arc #3: 'Nuff Said!, which is coming the week after next. Sorry about the Thor, I've read maybe one classic Thor comic, but I gave it a shot anyways. I hope you enjoyed!
I’ve got a feeling Johnny will have to use that spirit of Vengeance again somehow, but I’ll wait. New thread in two weeks, yes?