Storytime: The Finale
HeroBoltsy
Member Posts: 785 ★★★
Part 1 of 5
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Agent Coulson comes to, in a dark place, rubbing his head and blinking. “Where… am I?” he mutters to himself, before peering into the Abyss around him. There are horrifying, hulking foes around — Things, Dormammus, Modoks, Champions, and even the occasional Howard the Duck. But they don’t seem to notice him, nor do they notice the other, knocked out heroes around them. Off in the distance, Coulson can see Warren, Quentin, Thaddeus, Gwen… even Cyclops, Crossbones, and a few X-Men that he recognized from Warren’s team.
“Coulson? Are you there?” comes the voice of Quake from just behind him, and Coulson looks over, careful not to draw attention.
“Yes. Do you know where we are? I don’t recognize this place…” Coulson whispered, subtly pulling out his gun as a Punisher 2099 approached.
“I’ve heard… stories of this place. You know the Labyrinth of Legends?” Quake asked, to which Coulson nodded. “This place is worse.”
“Great. This’ll be fun,” Coulson replied sarcastically, trying to figure out a way to contact the other heroes. “Galactus must’ve been… an illusion or something. Maybe an alternate Quentin, or the work of Nightmare. The Collector must have somehow located us and brought us here.”
“Yeah,” agreed Quake, before reconsidering. “Wait, how can we be sure we’re not still dreaming?”
As soon as she said these words, all the foes in their vicinity swiveled around and stared at the two SHIELD Agents, dead on. With rage in their eyes and malice in their firsts, the juiced-up foes dashed towards Coulson and Quake, who promptly got up and dropped any pretense of still being unconscious.
While Quake charged up an earthquake, hands up in a ready position, Coulson fired upwards, trying to wake the team, before spraying the approaching Green Goblin and Joe Fixit with gunfire. His bullets were little deterrent, though, as the monsters shrugged off the blows with a roar and kept coming. But just before they landed a hefty blow on the Agent, the two stopped, held back by some unseen force.
A grin crossed Coulson’s face, as he saw the crimson skin of the Red Hulk, holding back the two foes with his bare hands. With a crunch, Thaddeus Ross slammed the enemies’ heads together, leaving them knocked out on the gravelly ground. Nearby, a Yellowjacket was being cut down by Gwenpool and Stan the Symbioid, and an Aegon was getting Neurotoxined to death by Warren, who was assisted by dexterous strikes from Hank McCoy.
Somehow, everyone’s awake again, Coulson thought, and he certainly wasn’t complaining as he kept firing. Quake continued to send shockwaves rippling through the earth, scaring away their foes, and leaving the team to regroup.
“Where are we?” asked Warren, looking around the desolate surroundings — all he can see for miles is Champions, with no apparent means of escape.
“Daisy told me this place is dangerous. Very dangerous,” Coulson replied, holstering his gun for a moment, walking around. “We need to figure our way out, fast.”
“Here’s another question, AC,” Gwenpool asked. “Was it just me, or were we singing a musical just now?”
“Take me home,” Thaddeus muttered absentmindedly, scanning for more enemies on the horizon. “Battle-roads… To the place… I belong…”
“Yeah, we went through that, too,” Coulson answered, pointing over at Quake, who still held out her hands, generating a subtly rumbling earthquake. “I figure, the only reason that we’re not all still in the dream is… well, Daisy over there.”
“Thanks,” Quentin stated, walking over to the Inhuman and giving her a thumbs up.
“Yeah. No pr- look out!” cries Quake, sending a pulse of energy at an approaching Darkhawk. And though that foe fell, four or five more emerged from the rocks, advancing towards the group.
“We have got to get out of here,” resolved Warren, already taking flight towards the swarm of enemies. But as he and the rest of the gang readied themselves for another battle, Coulson spotted something up in the air, just above them — a fairly small asteroid, tumbling towards the ground.
“Guys! Up there!” Coulson pointed, and the gang looked up.
“I see it,” Warren answered, turning around and using his wings as a shield to block the advancing enemies. “Everyone, help me fend off these guys. Quentin, fly us up there, then figure out some way to launch the asteroid away from this place.”
“You got it, boss,” Quentin agreed, taking Hank first and flying up with green blasts towards the quickly descending asteroid. As he placed Hank safely onto the tumbling rock, Warren swiveled around, launching a storm of razors at the Abyssal foes. Thaddeus, Gwen, and Stan got up close and personal with their enemies, slashing and punching at them. Coulson fired his gun rapidly and Quake, making sure to keep her disrupting earthquake active, nevertheless was able to get a few pulses off.
Summoning a shield of green in front of him as he swooped down and dragged Gwen up to the asteroid, Quentin watched as the champions kept fighting valiantly. We may actually get out of here, he thought, jetting down to pick up Stan. But as he took the Symbioid by the arms, disaster!
Another Darkhawk fired a beam at the asteroid, sending it hurtling away from the Abyss. Which, in some respects, was a good thing — now they no longer had to figure out how to achieve liftoff. But, at the same time, the rock, their only means of escape, was now flying away faster than Quentin could evacuate the team from the ground.
With a grunt of frustration, Quentin blasted past Coulson and grabbed the Agent by his collar, hurling the two up towards the now-fleeing asteroid. He could not even spare a moment to ensure that the two had landed safely before turning around and heading back for Quake and Thaddeus.
“Warren! We have to go!” Quentin called, and the winged leader nodded, taking flight. But with his departure, the other two were left exposed to a full-on assault. Though Quake still tried to keep her earthquake charged, she was only able to evade one hit before getting struck by another. Falling back, she was forced to bring up both hands to create a shield, protecting herself and Thaddeus. This, of course, had its own problems — even as they fled from the Abyss, Warren and Quentin could see their two comrades grow tired and waver slightly.
From a shadow of the Abyss, a thin, pale figure stepped out into the light — Nightmare. With a green costume and cape, he grinned, waving his hands as slowly, surely, Thaddeus and Quake began to collapse.
“We have to do something!” Coulson shouted from the escaping asteroid, trying to fire at Nightmare. But, thanks to the long range and the tumbling rock, he was unable to land a hit, and shouted frustratedly.
“No time. If we go back,” Warren stated, touching down on the asteroid softly, “We’ll be overpowered too. I’m sorry, Coulson.”
The Agent watched, helplessly, as the swarm of Abyssal enemies began to tear into his two friends, who collapsed, asleep. He wanted so desperately to do something, to jump off and go in guns blazing to protect his friends, but he knew… it was impossible. The asteroid drifted off into space, away from the Abyss. Quake and Thaddeus’ fates were sealed.
Until they weren’t.
“Who… who is that?” Quentin asked, spotting a lone figure in the distance, quickly approaching — no, swinging off of tiny rocks floating around the Battlerealm.
“Looks like some kind of... Spider-Man,” Coulson observed, noticing the figure’s distinctly webbed, glistening suit. “He must’ve heard the gunshots, the commotion, something like that.”
“He’s crazy!” Warren cried, as the Spider-Man swooped in, thwip-ing at Quake and Thaddeus, yanking them up into space. Spinning protective web-cocoons around them and kicking them towards the asteroid, this Spider-Man then swung back around towards the Abyss, kicking Nightmare in the face.
As Quentin and Warren flew up to retrieve their beaten but saved comrades, pushing the cocoons towards their asteroid, they could hear the smacks and punches of that lone Spider-Man beating up the other champions. “I’ll be right with you!” Spidey called to Warren’s gang with a wave, before ducking under a swing from Masacre. “Just one second, folks!”
“That’s got to be the best Spider-Man I’ve ever seen,” Coulson remarked, shaking his head at the bravery - or stupidity - of this savior.
“That’s debatable, AC,” Gwen commented, but even she couldn’t look away as the Spidey flipped away from his foes, before webbing Darkhawk up and slamming him into Nightmare. And even from the departing asteroid, the entire group could hear Spider-Man taunt his enemies:
“I’m gonna put some dirt in your eye.”
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Hey, everyone! Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all. Good to be back, hope you enjoyed this installment of Storytime, and I hope you stick around for the finale... I feel like I should upload when these are going to be coming out. Obviously I got a ton of my own projects that I'm working on, the cadence of those is pretty irregular. Sometimes I'm super inspired and blazing through pages, other times I'm in a lull... what I'm trying to say is, Storytime is pretty secondary to my regular writing, so there's not going to be any set schedule as to when precisely I'm going to have the time to get these out. I will promise though, there will be no more than two weeks between installments, I'm going to try and not leave you guys hanging too much. Alright, that's all I got, until next time!
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Agent Coulson comes to, in a dark place, rubbing his head and blinking. “Where… am I?” he mutters to himself, before peering into the Abyss around him. There are horrifying, hulking foes around — Things, Dormammus, Modoks, Champions, and even the occasional Howard the Duck. But they don’t seem to notice him, nor do they notice the other, knocked out heroes around them. Off in the distance, Coulson can see Warren, Quentin, Thaddeus, Gwen… even Cyclops, Crossbones, and a few X-Men that he recognized from Warren’s team.
“Coulson? Are you there?” comes the voice of Quake from just behind him, and Coulson looks over, careful not to draw attention.
“Yes. Do you know where we are? I don’t recognize this place…” Coulson whispered, subtly pulling out his gun as a Punisher 2099 approached.
“I’ve heard… stories of this place. You know the Labyrinth of Legends?” Quake asked, to which Coulson nodded. “This place is worse.”
“Great. This’ll be fun,” Coulson replied sarcastically, trying to figure out a way to contact the other heroes. “Galactus must’ve been… an illusion or something. Maybe an alternate Quentin, or the work of Nightmare. The Collector must have somehow located us and brought us here.”
“Yeah,” agreed Quake, before reconsidering. “Wait, how can we be sure we’re not still dreaming?”
As soon as she said these words, all the foes in their vicinity swiveled around and stared at the two SHIELD Agents, dead on. With rage in their eyes and malice in their firsts, the juiced-up foes dashed towards Coulson and Quake, who promptly got up and dropped any pretense of still being unconscious.
While Quake charged up an earthquake, hands up in a ready position, Coulson fired upwards, trying to wake the team, before spraying the approaching Green Goblin and Joe Fixit with gunfire. His bullets were little deterrent, though, as the monsters shrugged off the blows with a roar and kept coming. But just before they landed a hefty blow on the Agent, the two stopped, held back by some unseen force.
A grin crossed Coulson’s face, as he saw the crimson skin of the Red Hulk, holding back the two foes with his bare hands. With a crunch, Thaddeus Ross slammed the enemies’ heads together, leaving them knocked out on the gravelly ground. Nearby, a Yellowjacket was being cut down by Gwenpool and Stan the Symbioid, and an Aegon was getting Neurotoxined to death by Warren, who was assisted by dexterous strikes from Hank McCoy.
Somehow, everyone’s awake again, Coulson thought, and he certainly wasn’t complaining as he kept firing. Quake continued to send shockwaves rippling through the earth, scaring away their foes, and leaving the team to regroup.
“Where are we?” asked Warren, looking around the desolate surroundings — all he can see for miles is Champions, with no apparent means of escape.
“Daisy told me this place is dangerous. Very dangerous,” Coulson replied, holstering his gun for a moment, walking around. “We need to figure our way out, fast.”
“Here’s another question, AC,” Gwenpool asked. “Was it just me, or were we singing a musical just now?”
“Take me home,” Thaddeus muttered absentmindedly, scanning for more enemies on the horizon. “Battle-roads… To the place… I belong…”
“Yeah, we went through that, too,” Coulson answered, pointing over at Quake, who still held out her hands, generating a subtly rumbling earthquake. “I figure, the only reason that we’re not all still in the dream is… well, Daisy over there.”
“Thanks,” Quentin stated, walking over to the Inhuman and giving her a thumbs up.
“Yeah. No pr- look out!” cries Quake, sending a pulse of energy at an approaching Darkhawk. And though that foe fell, four or five more emerged from the rocks, advancing towards the group.
“We have got to get out of here,” resolved Warren, already taking flight towards the swarm of enemies. But as he and the rest of the gang readied themselves for another battle, Coulson spotted something up in the air, just above them — a fairly small asteroid, tumbling towards the ground.
“Guys! Up there!” Coulson pointed, and the gang looked up.
“I see it,” Warren answered, turning around and using his wings as a shield to block the advancing enemies. “Everyone, help me fend off these guys. Quentin, fly us up there, then figure out some way to launch the asteroid away from this place.”
“You got it, boss,” Quentin agreed, taking Hank first and flying up with green blasts towards the quickly descending asteroid. As he placed Hank safely onto the tumbling rock, Warren swiveled around, launching a storm of razors at the Abyssal foes. Thaddeus, Gwen, and Stan got up close and personal with their enemies, slashing and punching at them. Coulson fired his gun rapidly and Quake, making sure to keep her disrupting earthquake active, nevertheless was able to get a few pulses off.
Summoning a shield of green in front of him as he swooped down and dragged Gwen up to the asteroid, Quentin watched as the champions kept fighting valiantly. We may actually get out of here, he thought, jetting down to pick up Stan. But as he took the Symbioid by the arms, disaster!
Another Darkhawk fired a beam at the asteroid, sending it hurtling away from the Abyss. Which, in some respects, was a good thing — now they no longer had to figure out how to achieve liftoff. But, at the same time, the rock, their only means of escape, was now flying away faster than Quentin could evacuate the team from the ground.
With a grunt of frustration, Quentin blasted past Coulson and grabbed the Agent by his collar, hurling the two up towards the now-fleeing asteroid. He could not even spare a moment to ensure that the two had landed safely before turning around and heading back for Quake and Thaddeus.
“Warren! We have to go!” Quentin called, and the winged leader nodded, taking flight. But with his departure, the other two were left exposed to a full-on assault. Though Quake still tried to keep her earthquake charged, she was only able to evade one hit before getting struck by another. Falling back, she was forced to bring up both hands to create a shield, protecting herself and Thaddeus. This, of course, had its own problems — even as they fled from the Abyss, Warren and Quentin could see their two comrades grow tired and waver slightly.
From a shadow of the Abyss, a thin, pale figure stepped out into the light — Nightmare. With a green costume and cape, he grinned, waving his hands as slowly, surely, Thaddeus and Quake began to collapse.
“We have to do something!” Coulson shouted from the escaping asteroid, trying to fire at Nightmare. But, thanks to the long range and the tumbling rock, he was unable to land a hit, and shouted frustratedly.
“No time. If we go back,” Warren stated, touching down on the asteroid softly, “We’ll be overpowered too. I’m sorry, Coulson.”
The Agent watched, helplessly, as the swarm of Abyssal enemies began to tear into his two friends, who collapsed, asleep. He wanted so desperately to do something, to jump off and go in guns blazing to protect his friends, but he knew… it was impossible. The asteroid drifted off into space, away from the Abyss. Quake and Thaddeus’ fates were sealed.
Until they weren’t.
“Who… who is that?” Quentin asked, spotting a lone figure in the distance, quickly approaching — no, swinging off of tiny rocks floating around the Battlerealm.
“Looks like some kind of... Spider-Man,” Coulson observed, noticing the figure’s distinctly webbed, glistening suit. “He must’ve heard the gunshots, the commotion, something like that.”
“He’s crazy!” Warren cried, as the Spider-Man swooped in, thwip-ing at Quake and Thaddeus, yanking them up into space. Spinning protective web-cocoons around them and kicking them towards the asteroid, this Spider-Man then swung back around towards the Abyss, kicking Nightmare in the face.
As Quentin and Warren flew up to retrieve their beaten but saved comrades, pushing the cocoons towards their asteroid, they could hear the smacks and punches of that lone Spider-Man beating up the other champions. “I’ll be right with you!” Spidey called to Warren’s gang with a wave, before ducking under a swing from Masacre. “Just one second, folks!”
“That’s got to be the best Spider-Man I’ve ever seen,” Coulson remarked, shaking his head at the bravery - or stupidity - of this savior.
“That’s debatable, AC,” Gwen commented, but even she couldn’t look away as the Spidey flipped away from his foes, before webbing Darkhawk up and slamming him into Nightmare. And even from the departing asteroid, the entire group could hear Spider-Man taunt his enemies:
“I’m gonna put some dirt in your eye.”
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Hey, everyone! Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all. Good to be back, hope you enjoyed this installment of Storytime, and I hope you stick around for the finale... I feel like I should upload when these are going to be coming out. Obviously I got a ton of my own projects that I'm working on, the cadence of those is pretty irregular. Sometimes I'm super inspired and blazing through pages, other times I'm in a lull... what I'm trying to say is, Storytime is pretty secondary to my regular writing, so there's not going to be any set schedule as to when precisely I'm going to have the time to get these out. I will promise though, there will be no more than two weeks between installments, I'm going to try and not leave you guys hanging too much. Alright, that's all I got, until next time!
17
Comments
Bravo, bravo!
why do I know that
(Part 2 Friday...)
Also sorry for getting back so late, I do not check these forums as often as I used to. Oh well. More writing time.
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Having made short work of the Abyssal foes, the Spider-Man who had come to Warren’s group’s aid swings over to the asteroid they depart. He pulls off his mask, revealing a bit aged, a bit worn, but still fighting Peter Parker, and the group watches him keenly.
“Quite the party you’ve got here,” Spidey remarks, looking around before holding out a hand to Warren, who shakes it firmly.
“Thanks for saving us back there, Spider-Man. Without you...” Warren stated gratefully, gesturing behind him, where Quake and Thaddeus are still breaking free of their protective web-cocoons.
“No problem,” Spider-Man replies, walking around, facing each of the group members individually. First, the amazed Coulson, then the calm Quentin, the recovering Quake and Thaddeus, and finally Gwen, who is awestruck upon realizing exactly who this Spider-Man is.
“Tobey?” she cries. “I didn’t know you were in the Battlerealm!”
Spider-Man smiles just a bit, slightly confused. “I have no idea who Tobey is. I’m just happy to help. Who are you guys, anyways?”
The group looks between one another, before Coulson finally declares, “We’re trying to make our way to the Proving Grounds. We’re going to take down the Collector.”
Spider-Man stared at Coulson in shock for a moment, then to the other group members. “You can’t be serious, right?”
But Warren, and Quentin, and all the rest were perfectly serious, and Spidey could do nothing but shake his head, donning his mask yet again. “You guys are crazy. Good luck with that, but… I doubt that’ll do any good.”
“Wait,” Warren interjects, just as Spidey is about to swing off into the distance. “Isn’t there anything you can do to help?”
“I already did,” Spider-Man replies with a sigh, gesturing back to the Abyss, which is quickly becoming but a twinkle on the horizon. “Now come on, I got some pizzas to deliver.”
“You deliver pizzas?” Gwen asks, jaw dropping. “Here? The Collector lets you? There’s Pizza Time in the Battlerealm?”
“There’s Pizza Time everywhere, as long as you know where to look.Hey, if you guys go through with this - which you’d be crazy to, I’m just saying - and you somehow make it? Stop by Parker’s Pizzas. Right in between the Multiverse Arena,” Spider-Man directs, gesturing affably, before once again trying to swing off. But, again, Warren stops him.
“There must be something you know, some way you can help us,” Warren urges. “Come on, Spider-Man. If we win, if we beat the Collector, it could free every Champion across the Battlerealm.”
“And if I help you, when you lose, the Collector will have my head for this,” Spidey replies, shaking his head. “No way.”
But he sees Coulson’s disappointed glance, Warren’s stern gaze, and Gwen’s downright shocked expression. He shakes his head for a few seconds, trying to step away, but finally relents, “Alright. Fine. You win. But when the Collector comes after me, I’m telling him the Agent over there put a gun to my head.”
“Just tell us what you know,” Quentin pleads. “Anything helps.”
“The Collector’s home, his fortress, his palace, whatever you want to call it… it’s shielded,” Spidey explains. “Now, you were heading to the Proving Grounds, right? You’re in luck. Right by the Proving Grounds, right underneath them, actually, the Collector holds… I don’t know what exactly. I’ve heard whispers at the pizza shop. A living battery that powers his defenses. If you can take that out…”
“We understand,” Warren replies, smiling. “Thanks for everything. We won’t tell anyone we heard this from you.”
“Thanks, but don’t bother. Chances are, the Collector already knows,” Spider-Man warns, with a glance over his shoulder. And with that, the masked hero swings away, leaving the group to contemplate their next course of action.
“You think he saw someone?” Thaddeus asks, looking around.
“I doubt we’ll be able to spot them,” Warren dismisses, looking towards the horizon already. “Best to keep our focus on getting to the Proving Grounds and finding that battery as soon as possible. We’re close, and it really shouldn’t take long to get there. Anyways, if the Collector’s forces are coming… let them come.”
* * *
“Yes, I know the Summoners are still clamoring for Bases- yes, I know none of the Deadpooloids have drawn up plans for the Bases that make any sense at all, but- look, I can’t be worrying about such ridiculous things when there’s a real threat on the horizon,” the Collector mutters to his PR Advisor. “We need to prepare defenses. Yes, give Murdock a call. Castle is already shadowing the group. He’ll engage when the group’s out of the way, I’m sure. And if all else fails…”
He stands, looking out the window to a large hangar bay beneath him. Dozens of rows of Helicarriers stretch out into infinity, each manned with crews of thousands, their rotors whirring and buzzing as they prepare to launch to the Collector’s aid.
“I’ll just have to wipe them off the face of my Battlerealm."
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Thank you once again for reading! I hope you enjoyed, as always. I'm sorry for pushing it until the very latest I could've put it, but I've had a very busy two weeks, lot of writing, very successful imo... I even took up painting from the master himself, Bob Ross, so that was fun. Anyways, we're heading into the endgame now, and I can announce right now that the final issue of Storytime (whenever it releases) will be our second-ever Giant Size Issue. So somewhere around double the length (or more, no promises though) so that we can cap this saga off right! I also would love to do a Q&A session at the end, but that's an issue for another time. Until next time, my friends!
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Warren and his gang have finally arrived at the Proving Grounds. Just on the horizon, they can see the Collector’s palace — there, their captor, their absolute ruler lives. Shielded by some barely visible, shimmering dome. They were supposed to meet up here with the rest of their groups, but, given the incident with Nightmare, the main heroes had all reconvened anyways. It was worrying, to be sure, that they hadn’t seen any of the rest of their gang. They must have been lost in the Abyss, stopped just inches from their freedom, but there was nothing that could be done about it now. They just had to keep going.
Though there were asteroids floating around everywhere in the Battlerealm, the Proving Grounds were a veritable jungle of them, so much so that one could leap off one asteroid and not go twenty yards without hitting another. And in between the asteroids, embedded every now and again in the astral rock, those angled, bent Catalyst fragments that could fuel a Champion’s rise in power and rank.
But these were meaningless to Warren, Quentin, Gwen, Thaddeus, Coulson, Quake, and Lil’ Stan. They had already taken in as many Catalysts as they could over their long Battlerealm careers, and now all they could do was —
“Find that battery thing. It’s got to be around here somewhere,” Warren ordered, leaping off the asteroid and circling around the Proving Grounds while the rest of his team forged through the dense area. From the air, he could see a main, central platform to the Proving Grounds, almost labyrinthe, with more than a few enemies. None that he and his team couldn’t handle, though. With a shout, he pointed over at the platform, and the others quickly made their way there.
“So… where’s ‘underneath’ the Proving Grounds?” Gwen asked, drawing her swords and stabbing the ground. A few wasted hacks later, she turned to Coulson, asking, “Wouldn’t suppose you know where this battery is, AC?”
Coulson shrugged. “He never told me anything about it. Just that his palace was well defended, and that I would only have to worry about the threats out…” He waved around him, to the Battlerealm stretching off into infinity. “There. Never the ones back here. I’d say grab a shovel, but, honestly, I have no idea where to get one.”
“Found it,” Quake announced — she’d reached out her hands and sent a few pulses of shockwaves through the Proving Grounds. “There’s a large room about 200 meters in that direction” - she pointed - “and about fifty meters down from there. Feels like there’s a battery, alright. Big, large block of something.”
“Then let’s go,” Warren ordered, already launching back up in the air and flying over to where Quake had directed. As the crew made their way through the maze of the Proving Grounds, Thaddeus and Lil’ Stan bowled over any foes who dared approach them, while Warren hurled a few blades at the enemies that were just a bit farther away.
It didn’t take them very long to get right to where Quake had felt the battery, and the crew stepped aside to allow her earthquake pulses to push the ground aside. With a rumble and a crack, she blew a hole right through the rocky platform, and the team could see a dark room beneath, with nothing but a blue light coming from within it.
Quentin created a small platform for the gang to step on and float down, into this strange chasm. He held out his hand, letting green light flow from it and further illuminate the room, but he - nor the rest of the team - couldn’t quite comprehend what he saw.
A blue blur of light moved back and forth between the four walls of the room, flipping switches, typing commands, pressing buttons on a variety of different computers. The ground seemed to be a slick black, and at the centre of the room there sat a large, large crystal of ISO-8. But this wasn’t quite like any ISO-8 they were familiar with — rather, it glowed and pulsed like a heartbeat, at the same rate that the blur seemed to be moving.
“Hello?” Coulson called, trying to point his gun at the figure, but it was just too fast. “What’s going on in here?”
All he received in reply was some garbled, sped-up speech. He could just barely make out, “Notimenotimenotime. Shouldn’tbehereshouldn’tbehereshouldn’tbehere.”
“This guy must be powering the Collector’s defenses somehow,” Quake observed, trying to read one of the faint computer screens. “Yeah. Says something here about… rerouting the power from this ISO-8 brick to the fortress. Generating the shield that’ll keep us out and keep him in.”
“Destroy… computers?” Lil’ Stan suggested, already salivating at the idea of tearing apart all the machinery. “Win… video game?”
“Sounds good to me,” Warren answered, floating down from above and staring over at the still-rapidly moving blur. “We just have to find some way to deal with this guy.”
“I got it,” Quake declared, raising her hands and using her shockwaves to shake the ground and blast a whole row of the computers. As the devices sparked with their destructions, and as Quake and her allies remained floating on Quentin’s green, misty barrier, the strange blue figure slowed, coming into focus like an image through a camera. Sharper and sharper his image grew, before finally his mustached face, and ruffled hair, and blue shirt became clear.
“Quicksilver?” Coulson called, raising his gun yet again now that the speedster had been halted.
“No. No no no! You’re the guys, aren’t you, the ones trying to fight the Collector?” Quicksilver called back, trying to stumble over to the nearest, still intact computer. Behind him, the ISO-8 brick, previously glowing with such energy, seemed to slow. “You shouldn’t have come here!”
“I think we’ll be fine. We have plot armor,” Gwen suggested with a smile.
“You’re crazy. The Collector will see his shield’s down, he’ll know you’re here!” Quicksilver cried, gesturing to Quake, struggling to stay on his feet.
“Yeah, it doesn’t exactly look like that shield’s going back up anytime soon,” Quake observed, nodding her head towards the destroyed computers. “So you can forget about it.”
Quicksilver grunted, pulling a lever of some sort. “It’s not that I don’t support what you’re doing-”
“Then stop running, stop trying,” Quentin demanded, reaching out a hand. “You can come with us. Fight the Collector together, for our freedom, for everyone’s freedom.”
“-but you don’t understand, you have to end this! I can’t stop!” Quicksilver shouted, trying to dash over to the side, but moving slowly, as if he was wading through a pool. “Let me keep the shield up — give you some time to run before the Collector finds you!”
“Very poor choice of words,” came a gravelly voice from the Proving Grounds above them. Someone stepped up to the chasm, his boots crunching against the pebbles beneath his feet, and he looked down into the generator room, right at the team. It was Frank Castle, the Punisher, wielding his rifle, naturally. But his head was a skull and on fire, and he wore a spiked uniform with a blend between his skull motif and the leather of the Ghost Rider.
He chuckled. “Isn’t this quaint. Trying to be noble, aren’t you, Maximoff. But you got the wrong idea if you want to turn against the Collector now. Get back to work.”
“I can’t,” Quicksilver replied, collapsing to the still-shaking ground.
“So you were the one who took Johnny. You killed him,” Warren accused, spreading his wings defensively as Quentin raised a green, glowing hand, and Gwen and Coulson raised their own pistols.
“That’s right. And the Spirit of Vengeance, well, I’m good friends with it now,” Castle replied with a grin, pointing his gun down into the chasm. As he did, it lit itself on fire, bathing the room in a shimmering orange. “Like I said, Maximoff, back to work. Maybe then I won’t execute you like the rest of these guys.
“You can’t shoot me, anyways,” Quicksilver pointed out. “Who else are you going to get to run this? Who else is fast enough?”
But there was more than a little fear in his eyes, which amused Castle. “But you know who we will shoot. Who we will kill if you don’t keep that shield up. Your family — your mother, your father, and your little sister, Wanda. They’ll drop dead unless you keep running. Not like these bozos have a chance of stopping the Collector, anyways. These computers? A minor setback. We can have them replaced. Like we can have you replaced… but you can’t have your family replaced, Maximoff. Stop wasting time and-”
Then, a shot rang out. Coulson had fired right at Castle’s chest, but he barely flinched. Even laughed just a little bit. The rest of the group took this as their cue to open fire, with Gwen firing her pistol and Quentin hurling blasts of energy at the Collector’s lackey. Quake took her attention off of the speedster below for a moment, sending a pulse of vibrations towards her foe. But the Vengeance-empowered Punisher either dodged them all, or absorbed them without flinching.
He fired three shots — one struck Quake in the shoulder, dropping her over the side of Quentin’s platform. As she hit the ground and the tremors stopped, a second shot hit Quentin himself, straight to the chest. He was blasted across the room, and hit a computer with a crunch. Without him to generate the platform, the rest of the group fell towards the ground, save Warren, who was the target of the final blast. The Archangel was struck in the chest, and fell towards the ground with the rest of his crew.
As Quicksilver watched the heroes fall, he saw a split second opportunity, a single chance to dash up to Frank Castle and fight back. He was dissuaded by the Punisher’s smirk, his pointed, flaming gun, and most of all the thought of his family, who would die the moment he rebelled. And, yes, he hesitated, perhaps for longer than he should have.
But he looked around, and saw that, despite this temporary setback, the champions of Warren’s gang were still ready to keep fighting. Their resolve hadn’t lessened one bit. Their faces were hardened with resolve and valiance. Perhaps he and everyone he still knew and loved would perish, Quicksilver considered, but these heroes would not let such a thing be in vain. They would fight the Collector or die trying, he was sure. And this was his best chance to be free. So, leaping off the ISO-8 crystal, using the others’ bodies as stepping stones, Quicksilver ran towards the Punisher.
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Almost there! Almost there! Almost there! Almost there! I hope you enjoyed it, as always. I can't believe there's just two issues left. I'ma be honest the ending I have in mind is a little... unorthodox. But I'm excited nonetheless, and I'll see you guys next time!
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Quicksilver bowled over the Punisher, knocking him down against the cold, hard ground of the Proving Grounds. He ran circles around the Collector’s lackey, kicking up dust as he did, surrounding the Punisher in a miniature tornado of dust. But Castle got to his feet alright — in fact, the blow was barely an annoyance, no more than an inconvenience.
He watched Quicksilver run around him, a blur of light creating the illusion - and no more - of a trap. With a grin, Castle thought, It’ll be all too easy to end Maximoff right now. Then, the Archangel’s group. They’re down for the count, I think. The Collector will be pleased. Does Maximoff seriously think he can do anything more than slow me down for a few moments?
In fact, Quicksilver was all but certain he couldn’t take on the Spirit of Vengeance-empowered Punisher. Between the gun, and the other gun, and… well, the skull on fire, all he could do was delay him a bit. But a glance back into the shield generator room told him that’d be enough. Warren and his gang were already getting back up on their feet, preparing to permanently disable that shield.
Indeed, though Quake, Quentin, and Warren nursed scorching wounds, the others had taken no more than a nasty tumble. Coulson, getting to his feet, looked up above him, watching Quicksilver’s intermittent but rapid attacks on the Punisher.
“Brave man,” Coulson remarked, before drawing his gun and pointing it at the ISO-8. “You think this’ll do it?”
“Doubt it, worth a shot, though,” replied Thaddeus, and Coulson fired away. Just as he figured, the ISO-8 remained intact, the bullets bouncing off the sharp angles of the brick. Thaddeus, lumbering over, tried to break the ISO-8 into pieces, and to his credit he managed to make a few cracks.
“Alright,” Warren grunted, a hand on his wound as he limped to his feet. “Come on. Everyone try and break this thing. I don’t know how much time we have.”
With that, the heroes began to attack the generator. Gwen slashed at it with her swords, Quake barraged it with earthquake pulses, and Lil’ Stan ripped off bits and chunks. And slowly but surely, more cracks formed in the ISO-8. as larger and larger pieces fell to the ground.
But while the gang did their very best to destroy the brick, and while Quentin and Warren slashed the computers, trying to ensure that the rerouting of energy to the shield would be permanently disabled, Quicksilver was still dueling the Punisher. He was still dashing in, delivering a quick but forceful punch, and then resuming his circular run, doing his best to keep Castle occupied. But the thing was… he was slowing down.
Castle had gotten a few hits in, a few counterattacks here and there, and he’d fired a couple of shots that landed, too. Quicksilver tried to run through the pain, and it was difficult, to say the least. With throbbing wounds and scorched scars, it’d be difficult for anyone to keep running. But he did. So that he - and all the other Champions in the realm - could be free.
But for all his might, and all his speed, and all his dedication he knew it would only be a matter of time before the Punisher defeated him. So he decided to try something new — he stopped circling around Castle, and started running off into the distance, into the Proving Grounds themselves, away from the generator. He, in short, fled momentarily.
The Punisher watched this with the slightest bit of amusement, a little smirk at the edge of his lips. If Maximoff thinks he can get away with this, he thought, well, he’s sorely mistaken. But who cares? Now I can finally end this troublesome gang of Champions, once and for all.
He turned back to the control room, before he suddenly froze in a moment of shock. For down in the pit, where once Quicksilver used all his powers and speed to keep the Collector’s shield up, now there lay no more than the broken remnants of many, many computers. The ISO-8 that once powered the Collector’s biggest, greatest defense lay in pieces, little cubes and fragments instead of the gigantic chunk it used to be.
And, staring back up at him, were Warren’s team, all still standing defiant, all pointing their respective weapons at him. But no matter, thought the Punisher as he raised his gun, it will still be like shooting fish in a barrel.
Before he could get off a shot, though, Warren flew straight at him, knocking him over. Slashing at him with his wings in a flurry of blows, Warren kept the Punisher occupied, even if he didn’t draw any blood from his foe. While he fought, Quentin summoned a few platforms and raised the gang up to the surface, and now - suddenly - the Punisher was surrounded.
Coulson fired his gun at the Collector’s lackey, while Gwen, Lil’ Stan, and Thaddeus beat him up. With a snarl and a burst of flame, the Punisher blasted them all back, raising his gun, placing Warren in his sights. If he could take out the leader, perhaps, then their will would be weakened and the group would fall before him.
Yet in the split second that he pulled the trigger, he saw a blur of light coming towards him out of the corner of his eye. It was Quicksilver, returning to the battle, and inexplicably carrying a couple of rocks. As the blast flew from Castle’s gun, Quicksilver called upon all his remaining speed and energy, placing a rock in the way of the blast and absorbing it soundly.
Then, he hurled the rest in the Punisher’s face, disorienting him for a moment and creating an opening for Quicksilver to deliver a vicious combo of punches. Pummeling the Punisher in the chest with his fists, Quicksilver finally reeled back, taking a deep breath.
He looked up, off in the distance, at the Collector’s castle. The shield that had once protected it from any and all outside forces - the shield that once kept the Collector safe in his home - the shield that was his first line of defense against anyone trying to do exactly what Warren’s gang were about to do - was down. And it wouldn’t be brought back up anytime soon.
“It’s over, Castle,” Coulson cried, pointing his gun at the Punisher — the rest of the gang were also ready to beat up Castle again, and Quake was using her powers to disrupt his thoughts, making it difficult for him to coordinate a counterattack. “What should we do with him?”
Lil’ Stan, clawing at the air slightly, declared, “Throw… him… into… pit!”
There was much assent for this tactic, but before they could carry out the plan, the Punisher let out one final, parting shot. Rearing back his head, he launched a breath of flame right at Quicksilver — who, exhausted from his fight, could not move out of the way in time.
As the speedster cried out in anguish, Coulson ran to his side, while Quake pummeled the Punisher with a blast of energy. Thaddeus, catching the Collector’s lackey, punched him in the face, knocking out a few teeth, before hurling him down into the control room. There, at last, the Punisher lay still.
But the work was done. Singed and burned, Quicksilver lay on the cold Battlerealm ground, looking up at the heroes around him. Quentin and Warren, descending from the sky like Angels. Coulson, Gwen, and even Lil’ Stan beside him, trying to comfort him.
“Bet you didn’t see that coming,” Gwen joked, but no one laughed.
“We won’t forget what you did for us,” Coulson vowed. “We’ll be free, the Collector will pay for what he’s done all these years, and when we’re freed, we’ll always remember what you did. We can’t thank you enough, Pietro.”
Quicksilver nodded, taking the SHIELD Agent’s hand and shaking it as he struggled for breath. “Thank you… for letting me help,” he said, before pointing a weak finger at the Collector’s castle. “Fight… him… save… Wanda…”
"We will," Coulson replied, nodding. "We'll save all of them."
Hearing this, Quicksilver could only smile, knowing the future was safe with these heroes.
And with that, he closed his eyes for the last time.
* * *
“So, those fools did it,” the Collector mused to himself, looking out the window. He’d become so used to seeing the Battlerealm through the shield that it was like adjusting to the light after wearing sunglasses for the longest time. Were the rocks of the Realm really so sharp, so dark? Was the space between them really so deep and rich with light?
It was a beautiful place, to be sure, but things could and would turn ugly soon if Warren’s group were approaching soon. There was only one thing for him to do.
“Deadpooloids?” he called, looking over at his few servants. “Ready the Helicarriers.”
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Thank you, as always, for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this, and I'm excited to see what you guys think of the ending...
Next: finale.
Throughly enjoyed this. RIP Pietro. Is the finale going to be a mega sized affair?
Glad to hear it. And yes, the finale is probably going to be much larger than usual. These come in at ~1.3k words, I'm definitely looking at 2.5k or even 3k depending on how the story goes.
And I hope no one's forgotten about our good friend Murdock...
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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.
* * *
As master of the Contest of Champions, the Collector had access to almost infinite dimensions, from which he harvested the Champions - heroes and villains and Deadpools alike - that populated his Battlerealm. And while the vast majority of the Champions he abducts are imprisoned in crystals and sent off to the suit-wearing Summoners, there are some that he elects to keep for himself. Some that he presses into service for his own means.
Take, for instance, our very own Agent Coulson — formerly an underling of the Collector, now one of the heads of the small resistance against him. Or any number of the other Agents Coulson, staffing the Collector’s personal fleet of Helicarriers. Dozens or even hundreds of ships, millions of tons of steel between them, and a whole lot of guns.
If you’ve ever been on a Helicarrier, you know that the process to get one off the ground is, to put it lightly, a tricky process. Oh, sure, if you’re a guest of honor - say, an Avenger - and you’re invited on board, it seems like it happens at the flip of a switch. But, in truth, it’s a much more laborious process. One that can be automated in part, sure, but one that still requires a massive amount of coordination from the Helicarrier’s crew.
Especially in the… complicated location that is the Battlerealm, Helicarriers aren’t exactly the fastest beasts to get started. One false move and you could send the vehicle spinning off any of its three axes, plow it right through an asteroid field, crash it into another Helicarrier, get something caught in the rotors and blow yourselves to smithereens. Which, of course, would only create more debris and more difficulty for your colleagues, more things to maneuver around.
Which is to say, of course, that when the Collector sent the order for his fleet of Helicarriers to initialize, it took quite a while to get them going. A long enough while, of course, to give Warren and his tiny band of Champions (relatively speaking) a tinier window with which to break into the Collector’s fortress. A miniscule window in which they could get all the way from the Proving Grounds to the Collector’s home before the Helicarriers arrived at their location and buried them in gunfire.
Of course, if someone delayed their progress, if an asteroid flew into their way, if the wind blew against them, if just one thing went wrong… the window would close. The Helicarriers would be right on top of them, and the tiny opportunity they had would be lost forever.
If just one thing went wrong.
* * *
Of course, Warren’s crew knew this. Coulson was still all too aware of the Collector’s protocols, and, since the shield was down, he knew that the Helicarriers would be coming soon. The group couldn’t even spend a few minutes properly burying Pietro — instead, they continued right through the Proving Grounds and headed towards the fortress, just off in the distance.
Warren and Quentin flew above, scouting out the Grounds, pointing out the path of least resistance through the labyrinthe Grounds. Naturally, the seasoned, experienced Champions in Warren’s gang could defeat the few foes that roamed these lands in just a few seconds. That, of course, was time they didn’t have. So the two leaders pointed their charges through the emptiest paths, the lonely straightaways, and round the quiet bends.
And with that, the gang of seven made their way out of the Proving Grounds, finding themselves right in front of the Collector’s fortress. Tall and vast, it loomed over the surroundings just as the man who resided within it loomed over all the land. Between it and the Proving Grounds, there was a not-insignificant gap of space - a moat of space, one might call it - but with Warren and Quentin, that was nothing but a minor inconvenience.
“Alright, Gwen, Lil’ Stan, you’re with me,” Warren ordered, grabbing his teammates’ wrists, “and Quentin, you go ahead and take… Coulson and Quake. Thaddeus, I’m sorry, but we’ll be right back for you.”
Thaddeus shrugged and paced around on the edge of the Proving Grounds, while the two leaders flew and levitated the rest of the team across to the banks of the Collector’s castle.
“There’s an entrance nearby that I can get us in through,” Coulson stated, as he stood atop one of Quentin’s magical platforms. “Or, well, if I can’t get us in, Stan and Daisy can.”
“Door?” Stan asked. “Break? Down? Door?”
Gwen smiled at the Symbioid’s effortful - yet enthusiastic - words, while Coulson confirmed, “Should be. Unless he’s seriously remodeled the place since I was here.”
“Alright. And Coulson, you’ll lead the charge from there, right? You know your way around this place?” Warren asked, just a few metres from the castle’s edge.
Coulson nodded, already trying to call up his memories of the fortress, doing his best to remind himself of which paths to take and which to avoid. Then, he remembered something — “Pietro’s sister, Wanda. If the Collector’s got her and the rest of the Maximoffs in captivity, they’ll be in the Dungeons, at the very bottom of the fortress. If I heard Castle right, the Collector should be sending men to kill them all now.”
“Which means we’ve got to get to them before the Collector’s men do,” Quake affirmed, raising her fists. “Great. So who’s going to rescue the kid?”
“I will,” Warren volunteered, a steely glint in his eye. He dropped off Gwen and Lil’ Stan at the gates of the Castle, while Quentin, Coulson, and Quake touched down right next to him. Looking up, he noticed a paved path leading through a well-kept garden and right up to a golden door with the insignia of the Iso-Sphere on it. “There. You guys go ahead, get the door open. I’ll go and get Thaddeus.”
But as he turned to fly back to the Proving Grounds and retrieve the final member of his team, Warren spotted something - someone - behind the Red Hulk. Someone that Quentin, and Coulson, and Quake all recognized. But though they shouted out to warn their comrade, he didn’t hear them. At least, not before Matt Murdock, the Daredevil, his face mangled and scarred on one side from his past duel with the gang, stabbed Thaddeus through the back.
* * *
It was quite the handy upgrade to his Billy Clubs, Murdock had to admit. A thin blade shooting out of the top as needed, and retracting when he wanted to store them. But effective nonetheless. Without the group’s knowledge, he’d already used it on one of their kin — Hank McCoy, the Beast.
He’d been tracking this group, of course. Stalking them, hiding in the shadows, unknown to all. He’d overseen their capture by Nightmare, and, when they’d broken out, he’d silently followed after them. He remembered Warren’s group trying to escape Nightmare, taking refuge on an asteroid and tumbling away from the Abyss of Legends.
Hank McCoy had been the first onto the asteroid. Hank McCoy had been the first to die by these new, improved Billy Clubs. From afar Murdock had hurled a club at him with pinpoint accuracy, stabbing the Beast in the heart with so much force that he was knocked off the asteroid entirely. Of course, the rest of the group had eluded Murdock that day. They’d been saved by a Spider-Man - a rarer kind, and one of the more powerful Spider-Men in the Battlerealm - but it seems in the commotion that none had noticed the disappearance and death of their friend.
Or perhaps they had noticed and just didn’t want to face the harsh reality of losing yet another companion. Or hadn’t the time or the words to truly say how they felt. Murdock didn’t know, and he didn’t particularly care. All he knew was that Warren’s gang, and especially Agent Coulson, who had so horribly scarred him, were finally backed into a corner. And there was one member of the gang that was right in front of him. So he struck.
The rest of the gang cried out from across the divide between the Grounds and the Collector’s castle, of course. But they didn’t dare fire on him for fear of hitting their friend. Gwenpool, in particular, was horribly distraught by this, and Murdock smirked. He was only repaying the pain and suffering they had caused him, after all.
Daredevil’s Radar Sense told him that one member of the team - Mysterio - was readying himself to dash off across the divide and charge at him. But the Archangel held him back. Something about there being no time. And then the group, with some hesitance, turned and fled into the Collector’s castle.
Murdock smirked to himself, as he kicked the still-warm body of Thaddeus Ross off the Proving Grounds and into the cold expanse of space. Oh, well. Killing a member of Warren’s gang - hearing their distraught cries - that had been payback enough for what they did to him. And plus…
He raised his wrist, tapping his comlink there. “Collector. Come in, Collector.”
After a few moments, the Collector’s voice replied, “Yes? Murdock, what is it?”
“The Archangel and his friends are here, in your castle. Minus Red Hulk,” Murdock informed. He heard the Collector scoff.
“Great. And the Helicarriers just launched, too,” the Collector muttered, as Murdock “looked” up. His Radar Sense cued him into dozens and dozens of gigantic ships emerging from the back of the Collector’s castle, swarming the space above. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’ve got them more than taken care of.”
* * *
Still feeling the rush of raw emotion from witnessing Thaddeus’ death, and wiping their tears aside, Warren’s gang busted through the Collector’s door and ran into the golden halls. Coulson, his voice a little weak, pointed Gwen, Lil’ Stan, Quentin, and Quake up a set of stairs towards the Collector’s throne room, while Warren headed down the fortress to free the Maximoffs.
He’d known Thaddeus for the longest time. And to have one of his most trusted brawlers, a man who had overthrown their Summoner with Warren, who’d journeyed through this Realm for months and months, ripped away in an instant? The only thing that stopped the grief from crushing Warren - in truth, from crushing any of his teammates - was the idea that there were millions and millions of Champions counting on them. And they couldn’t waste a single second.
Didn’t mean it wasn’t hard to keep fighting, though.
There were a bunch of SHIELD Agents marching up the halls towards Warren, led by Crossbones — he simply swooped right through them, slashing them with his wings and knocking them aside. Quickly he flew down and down and down the spiral staircase that Coulson had told him to go through.
He landed at the bottom of the stairwell, with SHIELD and HYDRA Agents alike guarding each cell. At the end of the hall, he saw a strike team opening up a cell, pointing their guns inside — the Maximoffs’ cell, Warren was sure. He had no time to lose.
With a furious flourish, Warren hurled a dozen razor-sharp pinions right at the strike team, the blades whizzing through the air and finally embedding themselves right in the Agents’ necks. A perfect hit, every last one. But that’s what you get after all these years of fighting, when you finally have the fire back in you to fight — not just for some shadowy Summoner, but for good and for justice once more.
The other Agents raise their guns at him. They fire, of course, but Warren spins around and knocks all the bullets aside with his wings. He unleashes another torrent of blades, and like dominoes the Agents fall. There are but a few defenders left, and Warren rushes right up to the closest one, scratching the Agent with his claws.
A hook, a punch, and a cracking uppercut — Warren makes quick work of the first Agent, before flying across the hall and kicking the next into a jail door. A third Agent lunges towards Warren with a knife, which he parries aside with his vambrace, and then retaliates with a punch to the face. And another, and another, and then the Dungeon is silent.
Warren walks over slowly to the open jail cell. He steps over the fallen bodies of the Agents he’s just taken out, cracking his wrists, and then into the jail cell. There, a little red-haired girl is cowering, clutching her mother and father. The father, in particular, Warren recognizes. He’s got a scruffy beard, yes, and more tired eyes, and red hair. Binds around his wrists, too, inhibiting his powers. But he knows this man. Warren came to another version of this man long ago, at the start of all this.
This man, Pietro and Wanda’s father - or at least this Pietro and Wanda’s father - is Magneto.
“Come quickly. We’ve got no time,” Warren beckons, breaking Magneto’s cuffs, leading the Maximoffs out of the Dungeon, and guiding them back up to the Collector’s throne room. “Is everyone alright? Can you fight?”
“And why on earth would we fight?” Magneto asks, ushering his family along after the astonishing, uncanny man that has come to their rescue. “Wanda has no powers. Not yet, anyways. And as for mine, they’ve been inhibited for so long… I’m not sure if I can. You have to understand, we never thought we’d see the light of day again.”
“Neither did I,” Warren replies, remembering his Earth. The sun, the sky, New York… all the places he’s been so far away from for so long, he’s almost forgotten them. “But soon… soon we will. And for that we may just need your help.”
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Strangely, Coulson had led the rest of Warren’s gang through empty halls. There were no SHIELD Agents waiting for them, no resistance provided on their way to the Collector’s throne room. They were simply given free rein to admire the gilded halls, the portraits of all the Champions the Collector had captured over the years. They even saw pathways leading to the crystal rooms… but they had to ignore them all.
The Collector was sitting in his throne room, resting on a small, wooden chair, as the door opened. Well, opened is a kind word for what Lil’ Stan did to that door, but it is irrelevant. In burst the five heroes, Coulson and Gwen with their guns raised, Quentin and Quake with her fists pointed towards the Collector, and Lil’ Stan merely gnashing his teeth.
“I’ve been expecting you,” the Collector stated, getting up from his tiny chair and cracking his knuckles. “You’ve made quite the ruckus, Champions. But this ends here. You’re not making it any further!”
Then, a shot rang out — Coulson fired his gun and struck the Collector right in the chest. The bullet merely bounced off harmlessly, and the Collector threw up his hands in frustration.
“Are you kidding me? I thought you of all people would know better, Agent,” the Collector lamented, pacing about. “I suppose, if there’s nothing I can say to change your mind, then it’s only right that I defend my Contest. As it’s only right that you defend your fellow ‘Champions’. Now, I-”
And without warning, the Collector picked up the wooden chair behind him and hurled it right at Quake. She threw out her hands and fired a few pulses of vibrational energy at the chair, but it somehow simply ignored these pulses and slammed right into her. She dropped to the ground with a cry, unconscious. The chair was unbroken.
“Daisy!” Coulson shouted, running over to the Agent at once. Gwen and Quentin fired towards the Collector, who summoned the Iso-Sphere and created a wall of purple energy in front of him. The blasts were absorbed, as was Lil’ Stan’s rush of furious attacks.
With but a wave the Collector fired a blast of energy at the Symbioid, hurling him into the wall. He raised up his hand, and a plume of energy engulfed Quentin, launching him through the roof and off into the space above the Battlerealm.
“Shame,” the Collector muttered, looking up momentarily at the new hole in his roof. “Just had the ceiling redone, too.”
Gwen, thinking the old man’s mutterings were a window of opportunity, drew her swords and slashed towards the Collector. But he blocked her attacks with his bare forearms, parrying the blow and kicking Gwen back.
Coulson shook Quake, trying to get her awake, knowing that she was the group’s greatest hope for an ultimate victory. But it was no use. The chair had simply knocked her too hard across the head. He looked up, drawing his gun, noticing the Collector’s many rRlics across his belt, and an idea sprang into his head.
While Gwen tried to land a hit on the Collector, the master of the Battlerealm only parried her attacks and retaliated with five of his own, quickly tiring her. But while he was momentarily distracted, Coulson fired his pistol at the Collector’s many Relics, knocking them off his belt and scattering them across the floor.
“What?!” the Collector shouted, as Lil’ Stan noticed the Relics and ran towards them, collecting them as a child would easter eggs. “Get back here, you useless Symbioid! Get back here!”
And as the Collector dashed after the Symbioid who was hoarding his Relics, Coulson picked up the wooden chair. Exhaled slowly, realizing what he was about to do. Then, he charged towards the Collector, using the chair as a battering ram.
The Collector’s face shriveled up in an expression of pure horror, as Coulson backed him into the wall, keeping him at bay like some sort of lion fighter. Though the Collector tried to summon the Iso-Sphere’s energies and blast Coulson back, the SHIELD Agent stabbed a leg of the chair into the sphere, somehow disabling its power for a moment.
The golden sphere dropped to the ground, its core darkened, and Coulson pushed the chair up against the Collector, effectively trapping him against the wall.
“Now,” Coulson stated, pulling out his pistol, “we’re going to talk about freeing all the Champions, Collector. I know it’s possible. You brought us all here, you can send us all back home.”
The Collector only spat in Coulson’s face and tried to punch the wall. But it held firm, and suddenly he felt the wall itself encircling him, encasing him, holding him in place. He looked up to the door of the room, where Warren and the Maximoffs were entering, Magneto’s hand outstretched and bending the metal wall around him to trap the Collector.
With a snarl and a shake of his head, the Collector warned, “You forget, Agent. You’re not the only Agent Coulson in this Battlerealm. There are hundreds of them, serving me aboard my Helicarriers — the Helicarriers which are encircling this fortress now. And I’ve instructed them to stand by. You know what happens if I don’t give them orders after a few minutes, right?”
“They’re going to make the right assumption, assume that you’ve been defeated… and destroy this castle to keep your things from falling into enemy hands,” Coulson realized, remembering just how the Collector had ordered things so long ago. Back then, it was all spoken of in hypotheticals, but this was one of the many scenarios for which the Collectors had trained his Agents. And if the Collector’s castle fell, not only would everyone in the room perish, but any hope of the Champions - every Champion across the Realm - returning home would be lost with it.
“What can we do?” Gwen asked, still recovering from the Collector’s attacks. “Surely there’s some way to get a message to them?”
“Should be a panel somewhere here,” Coulson said, looking around the throne room. Indeed, right next to where the wooden chair had sat before, there was a panel on the wall, with a switch to speak to the Helicarriers. Handing off the chair to Lil’ Stan (who dutifully kept the Collector pinned with this seemingly invulnerable weapon), Coulson pushed the intercom and spoke, “This is Agent Coulson. Do you read me, Helicarriers?”
There came a multitude of replies from… himself. All different versions of himself. They heard him loud and clear.
“What if you just tell them to call off the attack?” Warren asked, looking over at Coulson.
Figuring it was worth a shot, Coulson announced, “Everything’s fine, Helicarriers. You can return to the fortress now, stand down.”
There was a moment of hesitation, before one of the Coulsons on the Helicarriers replied, “I’m sorry, Agent, but the Collector warned us one of the insurgents would be one of us. If we don’t hear it from the Collector himself…”
Coulson looked over at the Collector, who simply shook his head with a sadistic smirk.
“That’s alright,” Coulson stated, remembering his first, his greatest hero. Captain America. There was a speech that some of the Captains America had given, in their worlds, in a situation like this. And Coulson knew no better words, no better man that could convey exactly what he wanted to say in this moment.
“I think you all know the truth,” he began, keeping his finger pressed against the intercom. “The Battlerealm is exactly what it sounds like. A place of endless conflict and turmoil. And the Collector is its creator. He made this place, he keeps us here. Now, I know there are a lot of Agents who are absolutely loyal to him. They’re on the Helicarriers for sure. They could be right next to you. And if you destroy this castle… you’ll give him what he wants. Absolute control.
“If you fire upon this castle today, the only man that can send everyone back home, the only portals that can send everyone back home,” Coulson continued, recalling a forbidden room in the fortress, a portal room through which the Collector harvested his Champions, “will perish. Unless you stop what you’re doing and stand down.
“I know I’m asking a lot. The price of freedom is high. Always has been. And it’s a price I’m willing to pay. And if I’m the only one, then so be it. But I’m willing to bet,” Coulson declared, looking around the room, at his teammates, “I’m not. If you want to be free… if you want every Champion in this Realm to be free… you know what to do.”
With that, he took his finger off the intercom.
The tension hung over the room for a few silent minutes. Then, out of nowhere, Quentin burst back through the roof, crashing back to the Collector’s throne room.
“Guys, the Helicarriers are retreating. They’re - wait, sorry, what did I miss?” Quentin asked, looking over at the restrained Collector. “Did we win already?”
“So it would seem,” the Collector spat. “If you want your freedom… have it.”
And so it was that the Collector led Warren’s gang into the depths of his castle. Prodded on by the chair, which Coulson had finally recognized (“it’s an ancient weapon, older than the Battlerealm itself. Daisy was lucky that it only knocked her in the head bluntly. If we stab him with the legs of this wooden chair… it’s possible he’ll never heal”), he took them down to the secret portal room.
It was dark, with all sorts of wires and panels around the room. The portal itself was a circular, metal device, leaned up against the wall. With the flip of a few switches, it lit itself up, bathing the room in a deep turquoise light.
“Alright,” Warren stated, holding out the Iso-Sphere to the Collector. “Here’s how we’re going to make this stick, how we’re going to ensure that there’s never again a Contest after we leave. Collector, I want you to swear on the Iso-Sphere that you’ll release all the Champions… and not kidnap any more, for as long as you live.”
The Collector grumbled. But, of course, he knew the Iso-Sphere was the only thing allowing him to keep a grip on the Battlerealm. And sometimes it had a mind of its own. If he swore an oath on it, then broke it, well, let’s just say he may find himself forced to leap through this portal before a more terrible fate befell him.
“I swear, on this Iso-Sphere, that all the Champions will be released, and that I will not harvest any more Champions for my Contest for an eternity,” the Collector muttered. “There. Now out of my sight. And give me that chair back. It’s done, anyways.”
That it was, and so Lil’ Stan put down the chair, handing it back to the Collector like he was returning it to a friend. The portal loomed in front of them, and the heroes looked out at it.
“What are you guys going to do first, when you get back?” Quentin asked. “For me, it’s going to be saying hi to Fury and Peter.”
“Fly above New York,” Warren declared.
“I’m going to find my son in this Battlerealm,” Magneto declared, still holding his family close. “Then bury him. As he deserves.”
“He was a hero. We left him in the Proving Grounds,” Coulson consoled, and the Master of Magnetism only nodded tiredly.
“Well, I’m going to write all of this down, maybe put it up on some online forum,” Gwen joked.
“I don’t know,” Coulson replied. “Rest on the Zephyr. Say hi to my team.”
“Hi,” said Quake. “Same, really, AC. I miss everyone.”
“Well, whatever you’re going to do, do it quick. We haven’t got all day!” the Collector shouted, and the group nodded.
“See you guys. Maybe we’ll meet again. It’s been an honor fighting with you guys,” Warren declared, and then he stepped through the portal. Sent back to his own dimension, at pretty much the same time he’d left.
“Bye, everyone,” Quentin stated, waving to the gang, before he, too, departed through the portal.
“Nice Cap speech, Coulson. You should try that more often,” Gwen commented, leaping through the rift, as the Maximoffs headed back into the rest of the castle.
“Well,” Coulson exhaled, looking over at Quake. “Guess this is it.”
“Guess it is. Let’s go home, AC,” Quake declared, and, with that, the two SHIELD Agents stepped through the portal. Back to their dimension. Free from the Contest.
The Collector, all alone in the room, dragged the chair and the Iso-Sphere behind him. “Great. Just great. My Contest is gone, I’m all alone in this room, I’ve got to coordinate a mass exodus I don’t even want to do… but without the Iso-Sphere, this place is going to be chaos. More chaos than it already is.” He sighed. “But I say, if ever I run a Contest again, if ever this Iso-Sphere allows me to recreate what I’ve made, I will never - ever - let another Agent Coulson in!”
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That being said, you can’t just kill off all these people and move on. They’re supposed to stay alive, dang it.
All in all, this was excellent. Thanks for writing, I’m glad I could read it