Sunday, November 4, 2007

AGC 32: Kings 2201

KINGS 2201

the thirty-second tale

written by Mark Bousquet

Midgard Standard Year 2201 / December 31

Asgard

KING BALDER THE BRAVE

It hath been a night of muted celebration. Always the dawning of a new Standard Year brings cause for celebration and thou the Golden Realm doth raise its collective glass in toast, it does so with a heavy heart. It hath been, all things considered, a good year for our side in the Eternal War, if only because Thanos scored no major victory.

We hath seen the reunion of Steve Rogers and Dani Moonstar,* the return of Franklin Richards,** the return of the Cosmic Flame,*** who brought with him a marvelous tale of his origin and travels, **** and the joining of Midgard, or Earth, as the locals prefer, to the Council.*****

* AGC 1: The Vengeance of Hope / ** AGC 6 - 11: Fragmented Balance / *** Also during Fragmented Balance / **** AGC 12 - 13: Vanishing Storms / ***** AGC 17: Kings 2200

Yet, still, our hearts are heavy. There is growing dissent in the Council; Skrull 4, the Ambassador of the Skrull People, is missing, and thought by some to be a traitor to the Council. Someone hath fed information to Thanos, the end result being Moonstar and Bruunhilde in single combat and Dani into a coma.* Rumors have spread that the Shi'ar and Kree Empires are mistreating the Skrull refugees that they are sworn to protect and care for, as per the Council Treaty.**

* AGC 22: Poisoned Moonlight / ** Shown in AGC 18: Avengers Without Consent

The Orphans, despite the wishes of almost all, continue to grow and develop. They are not children any longer, and this hath been a difficult year for them. Without my approval, they were present when Franklin Richards returned. Ben-Vell Parker and Eshir Maximoff continue to work as much against each other as they do with each other. I hath heard from Beta Ray Bill that their trip to Niffleheim has brought them back changed men.* Certainly, the information they provided about an Olympian city hidden away in Niffleheim hath been key to out understanding of why we were hit so hard and so unexpectedly during True Ragnarok. K'Zan Strange hath taken up residence and schooling with Amora, the Enchantress.** I can not say that I am pleased with this occurrence but there is no denying that we hath failed in the tutelage of K'Zan where we hath succeeded with the others. I wish him the best; time hath not treated Amora well, I fear.

* AGC 30: Jonas / ** AGC 31: Genetic Goblins

Angelica hath had the most eventful year, coming to grips with her position as the descendent and inheritor of the Goblin Legacy, and blossoming into womanhood.*

** AGC 6 - 11: Fragmented Balance

And, of course, there is the fact that Moonstar still lie in the thrall of her coma. Captain America hath sworn vengeance on the head of the traitor.

What will the Cosmic Protector do when he discovers that the traitor is also I, his King?


Necropolis

THANOS THE MAD TITAN

Which heaven holds your spirit, Mar-Vell?

I wonder if any realm could hold you. If it can, if there is some Paradise that can hold your soul until the end of existence, then my efforts to destroy the Everything will have been in vain.

Does it surprise you, old foe? Does it make you wonder how mad is the Mad Titan that he would seek the end of existence itself just to draw you away from the realms of the dead and back into the realm of the living?

There are rumors that run rampant that think my quest is to curry favor with my love, the lady Death, but that is not the case, Mar-Vell. I love her to fully for her to ever dote her affections onto me; why reward the one who would follow always, whether her love is given or not?

I let the rumors run, for they are not my concern. Only death is my concern.

How many bodies will it take, Mar-Vell, for you to return?

Time grows short. Though this Eternal War has raged for near two centuries now, there is the discernable feeling in the air that it shall not last much longer. The Everything will soon demand a victor in this conflict, whether it be Eternals or Asgardians.

I welcome the final battles. Though the arrival of Franklin Richards into our conflict remains the wild card that none can predict, my allies are in place and they shall soon reveal themselves to all. When that day comes, and it comes soon, Mar-Vell, there will be no stopping this War from seeking its end.

But will you arrive in the flesh to witness it?


Mount Olympus - The Dead Corner of Space

Thoughts on FRANKLIN RICHARDS from Canticle Guthrie

I find the world completely frightening and my savior the most frightening of all.

Not long ago, Franklin Richards - still the five year old boy in appearance everyone seems to prefer - saved me from my prison inside Titan 3,* where I had been kept prisoner for 175 years.**

* AGC 11: Fragmented Balance, Part Six / ** AGC 27: Titan Falls

I was kept alive by an entity I called "The Machine," who was really a merged entity called ISAAC, the Supreme Intelligence. My mind feels a million pieces as I try to piece together how I could look no older than my mid-twenties, despite my nearly 200 years in age. What kind of machinery, exactly, has ISAAC used on me?

And why does that machinery seem a welcome comfort to the friendly little boy who is my rescuer?

I am walking through Mt. Olympus, once the home of the Greek gods and now the home of Franklin Richards and a cast of misfits. Whether Franklin sees himself as Zeus or not, I have no idea, though sometimes the analogy fits and other times it does not.

Right now, he stands not five feet away from me, seemingly sleeping as he stands. Despite having every bodily function taken care of for me by tubes the Machine inserted into my body, the sight creeps me out.

I think this creepiness comes from the idea that this whole structure, Mt. Olympus itself, was transported here with a wave of Franklin's hand.* The power that is held inside that little frame is beyond my capabilities to understand. His thoughts seemingly create anything he can imagine, or perform any task he wishes for. He wanted Olympus here, so here it rests, inside the Dead Corner of Space.

* AGC 21: Ondur'ra

"You're looking at me," Franklin says suddenly (without opening his eyes) and I jump back, startled. "What is it you want?"

"I … I'm hungry, Franklin," I lie. "I was hoping you could-"

"What do you want?"

I go with junk-food, "Um, a strawberry sundae would be nice. Thank you."

And without making a move, a strawberry sundae appears in my hand. I walk away, shivering, but not from the cold of the glass dish.


KING BALDER THE BRAVE

Times of pleasure have a disturbing trend of following times of politics. There is a modest celebration underway inside the Thor Hall of Peace, as Asgard turns out to welcome another Standard Year. Most are dressed in their best clothes for the occasion and while I would love to linger amongst my people, I am unable to shake Ash'lin of the Shi'ar and Kovar of the Kree.

"We must find Skrull 4," Ash'lin implores, "if we are to have any hope of discovering the traitor."

Kovar snorts, "Listen to you, Ash'lin! As if you were concerned about Moonstar's health! We must strike at Thanos now, hard and fast, and claim a victory for the morale of our peoples!"

Despite the time both have spent on Asgard, and the time I have spent with them inside Council Chambers, I realize that I know little about either. I know the facts, of course; I have read all of their biographical data sheets, and read the intelligence reports on them (Kovar has a passion for the Midgard sport of golf, though he would never admit to liking such a passive sport, and Ash'lin once had a boyfriend murdered for his lack of loyalty), but I know little of them socially. This is an occasion in which I can correct this, but I find that I no more want to be here with them than I want to bathe in the pits of Muspelheim.

The Orphans mingle about the room, talking with friends and trying to avoid my glare. Ben-Vell talks with Volstagg, listening to the warrior regale a small assemblage with stories of glories past. Angelica stands by Logan the barkeep, listening to him tell her what a lousy job Toomi did filling in for her at the Bar and Grill. Toomi stands by with some of her fellow Valkyrior in the corner, none of them really wishing to be here. Eshir is, as he always is, alone in a crowd of people. K'Zan, of course, not is present, but looking at the Orphans here, and knowing what K'Zan is doing, makes me realize that they are, in fact, ready to take a more active role in this Eternal War.

I see that Ash'lin and Kovar are waiting for a response from me. "Captain America doth head the investigation into Moonstar's traitor, Ash'lin, and if thou wish, thou may aid him in his task. Kovar is right, at this time. I seek an offensive operation that can inflict damage upon the crusade of Thanos. Our intelligence officers, as we speak, are searching for the best target. If either of you have any ideas where your troops would like to attack …?"

Neither speak, of course, and it alloweth me to walk away.


THANOS THE MAD TITAN

Looking down upon the Pens, I see thousands upon thousands of slaves, ready to do my bidding. Necropolis is a dead world, it's surface made entirely of grey and white rock, cut by deep scars, which reveal a crimson underside. Pools of fire add to its glorious visage.

I could live hear forever, if living forever were my desire.

Bruunhilde and Ikaris walk amongst the Slave Pens, which were created by boring into the rock, then placing grates atop them. Screaming comes from inside, flowering the air with their pain and despair. The former lovers revel now in their hatred for one another. Their conversation carries up to me ….

"We must attack Asgard!" Bruunhilde says passionately, causing Ikaris to chuckle.

"Why? We are not yet ready. They are still too strong," Ikaris answers, spitting down into one of the Pens. "And we can only create Deviants so fast, Bruunhilde. No, we should stay the course and attack the Council's Homeworlds as Thanos has ordered."

"I wish for Moonstar's head, and I shall have it, General," the head of the Angelux spits back at him.

"In due time, my former love," Ikaris grins, his ionic eyes flashing. "And, perhaps, future love, as well?"

"I would rather mate with the corpse of Thor," Bruunhilde answers angrily, then enveloped Ikaris' mouth with a smoldering kiss to match the intensity of the flame pools.

They are anxious and ready to kill at my command. I have kept them in reserve this past year, allowing them only momentary rampages, forcing them to prepare for the Ending Arc. The time approaches.

I take a deep breath, inhaling my world into my lungs, knowing that the time approaches.

"Ikaris, Bruunhilde!" I call down to them, my voice echoing off the rock and ceasing, for the moment, the screams that come from the Pens. "Gather your troops and meet me at the War Table." I pause, letting the words sink in. "It is time to plan for the glories of battle. Either Hala or Chandilar will soon cease to exist, and Asgard will know that the time for Arc Ending is at hand."


KING BALDER THE BRAVE

Word hath come that Dani awakes, and I walk swiftly to her bedside, where I find Captain America alone with her. Despite my misgivings, Ash'lin, Kovar and Empire, the Earth Ambassador, have joined me.

"America," I sayeth softly, and he turns around, relief upon his face as his hands clasp Moonstar's, holding them tightly. "Moonstar," I say to the now awake Valkyrie, nodding slightly.

"My liege," she sayeth weakly, her voice harsh. America moves a cup of water to her lips and she drinks from it.

"How long?" I ask.

"About twenty minutes," America responds, not looking at me. "I was just telling Dani that we haven't discovered who sold her out to Thanos, yet, but that Skrull 4 is, for better or worse, our leading suspect."

I can feel Ash'lin and Kovar nod in agreement beside me.

Dani coughs a light chuckle, and Steve turns to look at her, "You don't believe me? I can understand why, of course, but you must know that someone on the Council betrayed you to Thanos, Dani." The earnestness in his voice cause Dani to reach up and lightly touch his face.

"Hush, my love," she sayeth, her voice still weak. "I already know who the traitor is."

Captain America simply waits for the answer.

"It is Balder."

"What?" The words burst from his lips as he rises to face me. "Balder? But-"

"There is a second traitor, as well," Dani says, reaching out for America's hand.

"Madness!" Kovar screams, though he draws his hammer against me. "Balder has betrayed us?"

Ash'lin slinks backwards, eyeing me cautiously, "This can not be. Asgardians are much too … too honorable! It must be the Skrull!"

"Or you, woman!" Kovar yells, turning to her.

"Only the Kree would ever show such disloyalty!" Ash'lin challenges back.

Empire steps between them, "Quiet. The both of you." He looks to Moonstar, "Tell us who the second traitor is, Dani."

She smiles weakly, "The second traitor … is me."


Mount Olympus - The Dead Corner of Space

Thoughts on FRANKLIN RICHARDS from Canticle Guthrie

I eat alone because I like it that way; been too long away from people to just jump right back into being little Miss Popular. ISAAC had a habit of showing me people right before he killed them, so even though I'm surrounded by a colorful cast of folks, I can't help but wonder when they'll be dead.

Everyone mills about, happy to be here. Phil Sinton, the Cosmic Flame, a herald of Galactus to whom Galactus apparently wants nothing to do with, is sitting on the opposite side of the courtyard from me, listening to Eros - a much, much fatter Eros than I remember - tell him stories about what happened with the Flame was off in the Dead Corner of Space on a mission from the G-Man himself.

Franklin is nowhere to be seen, though I can imagine he's with Astoria, an Elder of the Universe with the power of story and myth.

Whatever that means.

But here is one of her creations, I'm told, coming towards me.

"Ho, blessed Canticle! 'Tis a fine day, is it not?"

"Hello, Santa Claus," I say, not believing I'm saying it. Even after all I've been through, seeing a man walking around who claims to be Santa Claus, and dresses every bit the part, still causes me to wonder if I'm dead or dreaming. "Where's the," can't believe I'm saying this, "Easter Bunny?"

"Ho, ho, ho! I'm sure the furry rapscallion is off bouncing around somewhere," Santa laughs heartily, rubbing his belly. Huh, I hadn't noticed that before; mind must be clearing up. Santa looks like Santa, except … except he's, well, rather muscular looking underneath that red suit. He's gut no gut, no (what am I doing with my life?) bowl full of jelly …

"So, um, are you enjoying Olympus, Santa?"

"Aye, my beautiful dear sweety pie schnookum-wookum have-you-been-naughty-or-nice girl. I am enjoying it very much. Almost feels like home," Santa beams around at the structures.

"Olympus feels like the North Pole?" I ask, wondering how he can stand this Franklin-induced heat, but he doesn’t answer. He's off, walking towards a destination unknown when the Easter Bunny (some guy in a pink suit) comes bouncing in out of nowhere to tackle him.

"Have at thee, Kris Kringle!" the Easter Bunny roars.

"Well met, Pink Furry One!"

And then they fight, which is seemingly all they ever do.

I'm not sure what, exactly, Franklin is doing with all of us folks, but it has to be something, doesn't it?


KING BALDER THE BRAVE

Alone.

The longer I weareth the crown, the longer I doth long for solitude. Moonstar and I explained to the Council members how we had conspired together to draw Bruunhilde into the open for an attack. We tried to deceive Thanos, allowing him information that Moonstar would meet Bruunhilde alone, at Olympus, and battle in single combat, but he disbelieved the information, sending the Eternals Makkari, Ikaris and Reject to trap Moonstar.

I can not speak too ill of Thanos, of course, because that is the same attempt we made by sending Beta Ray Bill, Skrull 4 and Empire. We used the cover of retrieving gold from Olympus to allow for the combat to take place.

That Dani came out the worse for the exchange is a risk worth taking we felt.

The other Council members are decidedly displeased with our actions, but as the only blow was levied against Asgard, and as it removed Skrull 4 - and thus the voice of the Skrulls - from the Council Table, Ash'lin and Kovar have not put up much of a fight. Empire was not happy with our decision, but he is too new to the Council to openly disagree. Still, I shall have words with him in the future. Steve, too, was angered, but Dani will convince him we were in the right.

Perhaps she can convince me of this, too, though I know, despite our almost-loss, that it was a risk worth taking. The Valkyrior are much more resilient and well-trained than the Angelux, from all accounts, and removing Bruunhilde from the War would have been a major victory.

What now? I think as I look out upon the Golden Realm, the Rainbow Bridge at the edge of my vision.

Steve does not want to leave, and I shan't force him. Ash'lin and Kovar doth complain too much about the gold we lost when Olympus disappeared (and where it went is still open for debate) too offer any assistance right now. Empire is too new, too raw to the ways of War to entrust him with anything. And, yes, it must be spoken, though we welcome him as ally, until he is presented with an opportunity to stick a knife in the back of the Council and does not, there will be those who do not trust him. Nor should we. We have waged this Eternal War for too long to be taken unawares by one among us.

No, as always, it is the Asgardians who must carry the torch of battle.

I would welcome no other way.

But with Dani still recovering, and Beta Ray Bill entrenched in research, who shall we look, too?

I smile despite my misgivings.

"Messenger!" I cry heartily, and a hard light image of a young woman appears on the cold, stone floor near me.

"Yes, sire?"

"Send word to the Orphans that there presence is required in the throne room tomorrow at sun-up."

"Yes, sire."

"I have a mission for them," I add, turning away so that I may smile. "Oh, and Messenger, Happy New Year."

"And Happy New Year to you, as well, King Balder."


END KINGS 2201

"I'm not sure what, exactly, Franklin is doing with all of us folks, but it has to be something, doesn't it?"


-- Mark Bousquet …9 August 2001


AGC 31: Genetic Goblins

GENETIC GOBLINS

the thirty-first tale

written by Mark Bousquet


Midgard Standard Year 2200 / December (the present)

Asgard - Logan's Bar and Grill

Toomi blew a long strand of blonde hair that fell in front of her face to the side, thinking that this might just be the worst moment of her life. She looked down at her hands to see them buried in soapy dishwater, feeling them scrub away at the grime caused by thickly burnt potato rinds.

'This is all Angelica's fault,' she thought to herself, her face contorting into disgust as she was forced to scrape away at left-over, melted cheese.

"Builds character, it does," came the voice of Logan, the metallic barkeep from behind her. Toomi didn’t even bother to turn around as the synthezoid continued, "We all need to know that we're not better than anyone else. This is a good way to learn, Attumidunn."

At this, the suspended Valkyrie turned to glare daggers at Logan. "Thou doth speak a load of manure," she spat, trying to include as many Asgardian words in her speech as she could.

"Yer fancy words don't impress me, much," Logan replied, smiling.

"Maybe this will, then!" Toomi thundered, picking up the load of dishes on the counter and slamming them to the ground. Shooting daggers at Logan with her eyes, the young Inhuman-Atlantean stormed from the kitchen.

Logan watched her go, his smile widening, "Yep, I'd say that impressed me. Oh, Balder, what are you going to do with these Orphans. They are children no longer."


Midgard Standard Year 2200 / December (the present)

Asgard - The Forest of Earth

Deep inside the Forest of Earth, a fully transported expanse that lied outside the city of Asgard, a young man named K'Zan Strange lay where, once upon a time, many men had wished to idle away their hours.

In the bed of Amora, the Enchantress.

K'Zan wasn't sure exactly why he was here, other than he knew Amora had sought him out. In the days since Ragnarok, she had fled, resurfacing as a haunted flesh-spirit that roamed the woods, praying, legend had it, on any lost traveler. The young speedster/magician wasn't sure why Amora had chosen to reveal herself to him, he hadn't been lost - well, maybe just a little - and had, in fact, been on a quest to find Angelica Osborn, who'd fled to Midgard, when the Enchantress made herself known to him and bade him to follow her to her dwelling, which is just what he had done, and when he got there-

He shook his head; he was rambling again.

At that moment, Amora sauntered into the room. K'Zan was quite sure he'd never seen anyone saunter before, but, as the old jokes went, if you looked up 'saunter' in a dictionary, you'd find a vid of Amora walking into a room.

"Did you enjoy your nap?" she asked, her once long golden hair cropped short, but all revealed flesh still soft and perfect.

"IdidbutIwaswonderingwhatyoumeantwhenyousaidthatwhenIwokeup-"

"Shh," Amora commanded, coming to sit on the bed next to him. "You're a very excitable young man, aren't you, K'Zan. Do you know why I've brought you here?"

K'Zan stared at her blankly. "UmwellIthinkImeanits-"

"Slower," Amora flashed a smile.

"Er, well," K'Zan stammered, forcing himself to talk slowly, "I mean, uh, it has to do with, um, well, you know …"

"Sex?"

K'Zan blushed, turned his head away.

Amora laughed, and K'Zan felt a sinking in his stomach. "No, K'Zan, the Enchantress has not brought you here to devour your flesh and steal your soul, or whatever other lies are being spread about me in the Golden City. No," she brought her hand to his chin and gently directed his head to look at hers, "I have brought you here for another purpose."

"You're sure it can't be about sex?"

"No, K'Zan, I've brought you here to be my student. It's time someone began instructing you in the ways of magic."

"You're going to be my teacher? Yeahthat'sgoingtostopmefromthinkingabout-"

Amora smiled, "Our first lesson begins tomorrow. Do not disappoint me."


Midgard Standard Year 2200 / December (the present)

Earth

Attumidunn set her jaw as she stood in a towering canyon of filth, decay and grime.

New York City.

She walked the streets, her Valkyrior armor hidden beneath a brown robe she had borrowed from Skrull 4's quarters. If Balder suspended her from the ranks of the Valkyrior for simply failing to report Angelica's absence, she wondered if he'd toss her from Asgard itself for coming to Midgard without his permission. Midgard was strictly off-limits after the disappearance of the planet several years back.* As she stood here, looking at the filth that swelled around her, the tall metal buildings making her shiver in their ugliness, she realized, surprising herself, that she didn't care what Balder thought. King or not, she was no longer some child that needed to be hidden away.

* Chronicled in AGC Giant-Size 1

None of the Orphans were, she realized, enlightenment seeming to dawn on her with each new building she glanced at. Yes, she thought, it was one thing to follow orders as a soldier, but quite another to follow orders as a child. In neither case was it acceptable to disobey the King, but at least a soldier was not hidden away in some protective cage, unable to effect the outcome of anything on their own.

With a sudden flash of inspiration, Attumidunn ceased her walk, and turned around. 'If Angelica wants to be here, on Midgard,' she thought, 'then who am I to come running after her?'

It was decided as suddenly as her decision to come. 'Angelica, though a few years younger than the rest of us, has been raised among us. She can certainly handle herself in a place-"

HEEEEEEEEEEEE-HEEEEEEEEEEE-HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

A chill ran through Toomi's body that not the coldest night in Niffleheim could match. The vagrant people around her ran for the cover of doorframes and alleyways; Toomi stood, her head looking left and right at the vanishing masses.

HAAAA-HA-HAAAAAAA!!!

A second chill ran through her and she saw, across the street, an aging mother stumble and fall. Her daughter, who looked to be Angelica's age, turned without stopping, and shouted, "Hurry, mama!" but did not go back to help.

"What deviltry is this?" Toomi asked, her right hand reaching inside her robe for her sword. She was caught unaware as bombs started falling from the sky. One exploded into the side of an old building near her, sending a hailstorm of bricks raining down on her. "Ah!" she yelled, diving to the side, managing to avoid only some of the falling debris.

As she lay on the ground, Toomi rolled over onto her back and, for the first time, looked up at the sky.

Her blood stopped dead; her heart, for several long moments, unable to pump the lifeblood.

Soaring through the sky was a maniacal, screeching banshee, silhouetted by the moon. Toomi watched as the banshee soared down the street away from her, then arced, turning to come back. As the banshee turned, the figure dropped low, allowing Toomi a sudden, hideous glance at the creature's grotesque, green face.

"Come quickly!" she heard a voice whisper, and a hand tug at her robe. She arced her head back to see the young girl from moments before pulling at her. To Toomi's surprise, the young girl easily pulled Toomi along the ground, and deep into a dark alleyway, seemingly without effort.

Struggling in her robe, and hating being pulled along like a sack of wheat, Toomi fought the young girl's grip, but she held the robe fast, and didn't stop pulling until they were hidden behind a dumpster three-quarters of the way down the alley. Finally, the girl released the grip and Toomi rolled over onto her feet, "What is the meaning-"

"Shush!" the girl hissed, and such was the intensity in her eyes that Toomi fell silent. "You don't want to attract her attention, do you?"

"Her?" Toomi asked, her voice a sharp whisper.

"The Green Gobliness," the girl replied, her eyes peeled to the end of the alleyway. Then, to someone behind her, who Toomi hadn't noticed, the young girl continued, "Told you she was a tourist. Looked as lost as we once did."

But Attumidunn's eyes were now locked on the end of the alleyway, too, and she felt the now familiar shiver run through her as the Green Gobliness roared by, pumpkin bombs falling to the street as she went by. "The Green Goblin …" she shook her head. "That creature out there is … is, Angelica's mother?"

Toomi reached behind her head, to grab the brown robe with one hand, and pull it over her body. Her jaw set, she unsheathed her sword. She could hear Angelica's plaintive wails from when she told them about her heritage, about how she could, one day, go insane and kill all of them. Toomi didn't believe it then, and now … now she was determined to prove that she was right all along.

"What do you think you're doing?" the young woman's mother asked.

Toomi turned and looked at the two dirty, pathetic - aye, she thought, pathetic is the word for them - humans and sneered, "I am going to kill the Green Gobliness."

The young woman shook her head, but reached out and forced Toomi to shake her hand, "My name's Ravyn, by the by. Thought I'd tell you that because I'm the last person you'll ever meet."

Toomi looked at the young, Asian girl and shook her head, "Thou art a coward."

The girl didn't blink, "Yeah, well, thou are a bitch. And soon to be a dead one. Come into the Tunnels with us. That way," she pointed back up the alley, "leads only to death. This way," she pointed to a whole in the bottom of the dumpster, "leads to a chance."

Toomi yanked her hand away from the woman that could not have been more than three years her younger, a young woman that was, like Toomi, raised in the conditions of the Eternal War. Toomi began to realize just how lucky she was that she'd been raised on Asgard, and not on this backwards planet.

Without another word, Attumidunn walked back up the alleyway.

"Ye dress like a tramp!" Ravyn called to her, mocking the Valkyrie armor, but Toomi, if she heard her at all, did not reply.


The Out of Time Dimension (the present)

The Cathedral, Headquarters to the Saviors

Angelica and Spider sat in the monitor room of the Cathedral alongside Princess Sand, a member of the Saviors, Earth's supergroup; what had started out as Angelica seeking information about her mother, then as a history lesson on the Ascension (what the Earthers called the Abandonment), including a tour of the Cathedral, had turned into something of a vacation for Angelica.

"Angel, look at this," Princess Sand laughed, motioning to one of the images to their right. Though Princess Sand was her superhero moniker, it was also an accurate description of the young woman; Sand was the Princess of the small, but wealthy, Egyptian Province of Adalama. She wore an elegant white costume that Angelica thought was completely impractical for battle.

The monitor room was a long, oval shaped room; every panel on its walls was a monitor, able to depict literally millions of broadcasts from around the world, be they over-the-air, cable, satellite, internet, supernet, radio, anything. Angel smiled at the Princess, and looked to the image she pointed to; Spider, as was his norm, hung back, saying little.

Angelica smiled, "What am I looking at?"

"It's an illegal auction down on Isla Juarez," Princess Sand explained. "They specialize in First Age memorabilia, ohmigod, look at that!"

"What is it?" Angelica asked, curious as to how something so small could generate such frenzy in the Princess.

"It's a 20th century, mint condition, Hank Pym Russian Doll!" Sand squealed in delight. "I must have it!"

"Um?" Angel asked, still wondering why a foot-high doll could send a Princess into such a tizzy.

"Don't ask the Princess any questions when she gets like this," Spider said, stepping towards them, his voice somber. Hiding something? Angelica wondered idly. "It's a Russian Doll. See? It looks like Giant Man, right? Then you open it up and it looks like Goliath. Open that up and it looks like Dr. Pym, then Yellowjacket and finally Ant-Man. Guy must've been schizophrenic to have that many identities."

Angelica looked at his Spider suit, a modern version of the original Spider-Man's black-and-white suit, and, frighteningly, Angelica thought, it was also the symbiote known as Venom. He'd told her he'd only bonded with Venom because of the death of another, but-

"Sand, keep Angelica here," Spider said suddenly. "I've got to go."

"What?" Angel asked. "Why?"

Spider pointed to a screen down at the far end, "Your mother is battling with some new hero downtown. I better get there before-"

"That's not a new hero!" Angelica blurted. "That's Toomi!"

"What's a Toomi?" Sand asked.


Manhattan

The X-Men Memorial

At a solitary, giant concrete 'X,' in a small, grassy open area inside a plaza, Attumidunn came face-to-face with a living nightmare. Consumed by her anger, by her confusion at her role in the Eternal War, Toomi went off, as Dani would say, 'half-cocked.' She saw now that challenging the Green Gobliness was a bad idea; without an Asgardian steed to give her position in the sky, Toomi could do nothing but dodge falling pumpkin bombs and plasma bursts, fired from the Gobliness' glider.

The Goblin screeched through the air, her glider wailing with every movement, her body alive with laughter as she bore down on Toomi again and again. The glider dipped as it approached, and Toomi stood her ground for as long as she could, hoping for just one chance to gut the glider down the middle and bring the Goblin to her level.

'Stupidity,' Toomi thought. 'Why did I think that this Gobliness would meet my challenge for single, unarmed combat? Midgard is too backwards to ever believe in such an honor system. I should have-"

"Unnngh!" Toomi blurted as her body was knocked backwards from a pumpkin bomb explosion to her left. Shaking her head, she tried to stand and fell back.

"The time for games is at its end!" the Gobliness called down to Toomi as she brought her glider in low to hover above the fallen body. "Tell me, child of the aqua skin, what is your name? Are you from off-world? You do not look like any hero I have come across."

Toomi again tried to stand, but a shooting pain in her shoulder prevented her from pushing her body up and she was too disoriented to rise otherwise. "My name is Attumidunn," she coughed, tasting her own blood. "I am of Attilan born, and Asgard raised."

"Attilan born?" the Green Gobliness asked, surprised. "Impossible! Attilan has been shut away for centuries."

"My mother was Luna, the Celestial Messiah, herself!" Toomi challenged from the ground. "I claim Attilan as the home of my birth-"

"But you never have been there, have you?" the Gobliness asked, laughing. "Luna, Luna, Luna! You are the escaped one, then, aren't you?" the Gobliness leered down. "The child of Atlantis that got away when the rest of the city and its people were completely destroyed! I remember Luna promising me that one day her daughter would make vengeance for her death." The Gobliness let her glider drop suddenly, now only a foot above Toomi's prone body and when she spoke it was so low that Toomi had to strain to hear it over the humming of the glider's engines. "I still hear the screams of the Atlanteans as they burned, child. Hundreds tasted my fire that day." The Gobliness laughed, "At long last, the last Atlantean shall perish!"

Toomi's eyes lit up, "Thou art responsible for the death of my family! Thou art-"

The Gobliness raised a pumpkin bomb threateningly, and Toomi quieted. "Your fool father thought he was aiding us all along, but he was nothing more than a simple tool to bring about Atlantis' destruction."

Toomi felt her heart skip, "My father? You know of my father? What would any farmer have to do with you?"

It was the Gobliness' turn to be surprised, "You don't know of your own father! This is too good to be true!" The Gobliness - Angelica's mother, Toomi reminded herself - laughed hysterically into the night, " Have you never been told? Have you never guessed? A farmer! Oh, this is too much!"

"Tell me," Toomi leveled her voice despite her shaking body, and somehow rose to her feet. She was eye-level with the front of the glider, angry and curious. The truth was she'd never given her father much thought; her mother had told her that her father, an Atlantean, had died soon after she was born, and she had always left it at that.

"Your name, child," the Gobliness smiled down maniacally at Toomi, "is Attumidunn, correct? The escaped daughter of Atlantis?"

"It is," Toomi answered, setting her jaw.

"Attumi," the Gobliness cut her name short. "Attumi, daughter of Attuma, warlord of Atlantis and would-be conqueror. The man who tried so many times to control his birthland that he eventually joined with us who sought the death of his people in a plan to wrest control of the city-state, only to die when we betrayed him." The Gobliness chuckled behind her mask, and lifted her wild eyes to the sky, "Ah, fond memories."

The words caused Toomi's mouth to run dry, "My father was … Attuma? It can not be. My mother would never have joined in union with him."

The Green Gobliness locked her large, wild eyes onto Attumidunn's, her grin seeming to stretch from one large, goblin ear to the other. "Your mother didn't have a choice."

Ten minutes later

When Angelica, Spider and Princess Sand burst into the clearing by the X-Men Memorial, they found Toomi sitting with her back against a tree, and her head slumped forward onto her chest. She was in silhouette, lit by a large, rising moon in the background. Angelica's first thought was that Toomi was dead, that her mother had killed her best friend, that the Goblin Curse had claimed another victim, but as they approached, she saw Toomi's head slowly moving up and down and a hand reached up to wipe across her face.

"Stay here," Angelica whispered to Spider and Princess Sand.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Spider whispered back, not stopping.

"Then scout for my mother," Angelica answered, pulling away from them.

Spider turned to look at Sand, who simply shook her head, "Let her go, but be prepared. If this is a trap, the Green Goblin won't wait long to spring it."

Angelica walked cautiously towards Toomi, trying to remind herself that her mother could be waiting right behind the giant 'X' memorial, waiting for her, using her friend as bait, but she found she couldn't take her eyes from the still dark form of Toomi.

At ten steps, she could hear that Toomi was crying. Never, in their entire life, could Angelica remember such a thing happening as these heavy sobs. She said nothing as she came to stand close, waiting for Toomi to acknowledge her.

"It's all a mistake," Toomi choked out, not bothering to hide her tears.

"What is, Toomi?" Angel asked, kneeling down beside her.

"My life," Toomi shook her head. "It's all … I don't know." She looked to Angelica, who could see the tear-stained cheeks and the bloodshot eyes. "I wasn't ever supposed to be here."

Angelica wanted to place a hand on Toomi's shoulder, but didn't know how far from her normally ice-cold front Toomi was willing to go. "I don't understand."

"Your mother," Toomi said, staring off into the distance. "I was fighting your mother and … and she told me who my real father was."

Angelica frowned, not completely understanding. She never heard Toomi say much about her father growing up; Toomi had told them that he was a simple Atlantean scientist of little regard and that's why Angel thought she never talked about him. For someone who so wanted to be royalty, to be the lead Valkyrie someday, to walk amongst the heroes in Valhalla, a father of no heroics was of no use.

Toomi continued, "She told me that my mother was … was raped, Angelica. By Attuma, the warrior, would-be ruler of Atlantis. I was never supposed to happen. I only exist because someone decided to rape my mother and impregnate her with a child that they could use to overthrow Atlantis and shame the Celestial Messiah."

Angelica wanted to reach out to Attumidunn, wanted to say something, anything to bring her friend comfort, but no words came.

For a long time the two Orphans of War sat near a memorial to heroes of the First Age and simply let time roll past, wishing that they were as close in spirit as they were currently in proximity, but knowing that neither of them had ever made much of an effort to be anything close to friends.

END GENETIC GOBLINS

"Yeah, well, thou are a bitch. And soon to be a dead one."


-- Mark Bousquet … 5 August 2001