The Rift *HF*
By Harbinger
THE RIFT: A Hell's Fire tale of secrets, sacrifice, and futures. By Harbinger.
NOTE: The passages (The Last Days) at the beginning of each chapter will be explained as the story progresses....bear with me!!!
Prologue
"The fire seeped from the sky
Like blood from the heavens,
Devouring those who remained;
Obliterated by their consummate wrath,
Their holy purpose."
-The Last Days Chapter Five, Verse 15
Part One: Rift
It glowed, filling the void around it with light. It flashed through the timeline at the speed of thought, wiping everything in its path into nothingness. It was the Rift, the greatest threat any race had ever faced. It was traveling through all dimensions simultaneously, wiping clean the slate of history. It started as a simple flutter in the Nexus, the beginning and the end of the universe. The Rift itself spanned nearly fifty years at a time, the outermost edge creating mild distortions, with the Rift's interior causing violent tremors in the fabric of space-time. By the time the end of the Rift struck a point in time, nothing was left.
Part Two: Winter Morning
Early in the morning. The Black Hellfire Club's mansion.
Silver was scanning the files on his computer, confirming the stock trades and business proposals that would be enacted at the beginning of the business day. It was only a few short hours away, and he knew he had to be quick if he were going to make the deals in time. When he was satisfied that his trades and deals were confirmed, he turned on the security on his computer, and walked away. He stood before one of the mansion's windows, watching as the sun rose. Its light reflected off of the snow on the ground, and the snowman that the Iceman and Byron had erected became visible in the courtyard. He smiled, pleased that even people with lives like the one he led still had time for something as insignificant and inconsequential as building a snowman. He had always been told that the little things matter, and had tried very hard to always keep that in mind. Sometimes he thought about how different he was from his father, who was once Black King himself. A consummate business man, to be sure, but he lacked a conscience, as did most of his followers. He wanted his Black Court to be different. To be free of the evil his father had instilled in it. He was trying to turn the Black Court away from world domination, toward a more noble goal such as world peace and harmony. He often doubted that he could be an effective force on the big blue marble, but was forced to admit that he had made a difference. His thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of his wrist communicator.
"Silver here," he said, answering it.
"Silver, I have picked up something here on Inferno."
"Harbinger. What is it?" His voice was harder than usual, as he didn't particularly like Robert Maxwell to begin with. Getting called so early in the morning only made his dislike more intense.
"I'm not sure, exactly. It appears to be a localized time/space disruption locked about fifty years in the future. But it's fluctuating wildly, and I can't get a solid reading on it."
"And this affects us how?"
"That's just it. I'm not sure yet. Just thought I'd let you know, in case it turned out to be something important."
"Next time, keep it to yourself. I don't have time for your petty problems."
The Harbinger grumbled over the comm-link, and spoke. "Fine then. Harbinger out."
--End Prologue--Coming Next: Time Cubed
Chapter One
"They trekked through the ether
Seeking their fortunes and fame
Living by the blade of the mind.
Elim, strong of heart and mind and body,
Took them to the last Stronghold;
Their victory was at hand."
-The Last Days Chapter Six, Verse 1
Part One: Time Cubed
The 500th Century. The End Point.
Haven rechecked her calculations once more, making sure they were accurate. Caeleb Arvin stood over her shoulder. "Progress?"
"Leave me alone," she said coldly.
"Said I was sorry. What more do you want?"
"I said leave me alone. If I'm going to save the timestream, then I need to concentrate."
"Work quickly, Haven," Solomon said. "Robert told us the Rift would strike rapidly."
"Do tethers still function?" she asked.
"Negative. Timeslide will have to be executed manual."
"Great. All right...just ready the timeslide."
"Would be easier were Paradise Lost attainable," Caeleb said.
"I will slide low-impact, to prevent further acceleration of the Rift," Haven said.
Solomon acknowledged her command, and motioned for her to stand on the timeslide pad. It had been years since they last had to use it, since they had tethers to pull them to and fro along the timestream. There was no dust on the pad, as the End Point's ventilation system prevented such accumulations. Yet the pad seemed ancient, like a relic. Perhaps for Haven, it seemed that way. She remembered the first time the man she called "father" showed it to her.
"Now, Ari, this is called a timeslide pad. We used to use it to travel to the past. You know what time travel is, don't you?"
"Of course! It's what the Radical uses to take away bad children, and put them in places where no one will ever find them!"
He chuckled, amused at the way children still told stories to each other, with the same fears as always. Still clinging to their fears of being taken away from their parents. "No, Ari, that is just a story the Instructing units tell you to make you behave. Time travel is really a tool... it can either heal history, or it can be a weapon to dismantle the future. We must forever use it carefully."
"What about the Radical? Does he really not like you and the people you work with?"
"It is true that he dislikes me, but it is because he does not understand my purpose."
"I don't think I understand..."
"You will, someday, Ari. Someday, this world, this universe, will be held in your hand. You will be able to do anything you set your mind to. You are the hope of the universe."
She didn't understand what he meant then, but over the years she learned the truth in his words. She allowed a single tear to escape as she remembered him. And while the assassin of her father was still in this room, she knew that she needed to let the man live. She knew that when she returned, their would be a reckoning. But not the kind Caeleb Arvin would have expected.
"Haven, are you prepared?" Solomon asked.
"Yes. Timeslide status?"
"Nominal. Jump when ready," Caeleb said.
"Activate slide," she commanded.
The timeslide pad hummed to life, light spinning about its center. Luminescent orbs descended upon her, bathing her in their colorful brightness. She felt the warmth of the slidespheres, as they warped spacetime around her. Then the timeslide began. The orbs melded with her body, and she looked at Solomon and Caeleb one last time. They seemed to be getting distant. Not as if she were moving away from them, or vice versa; it was simply as if the distance between them was increasing. It was more disorienting than most time travel she had previously experienced, and she began to lose consciousness. As the darkness closed in around her, she saw the brilliant beauty of the timestream enclose her in its protective grasp, and she smiled.
--End Chapter One--Coming Next: Beginning of the Crisis
Chapter Two
"When the Fiends came, day was night.
They painted the Outworlds
In the flesh and bone of my brothers.
Grotesque in countenance, evil of nature,
I saw the Hell within them, and was fearful."
-The Last Days Chapter One, Verse 1
Part One: Arrival and Introduction
Robert Maxwell was in his quarters in the BHC mansion, looking over DANTE's latest projections of the space-time distortion they were detecting. It was approaching their point in time rapidly, though it seemed to be having no ill effects upon them. "DANTE, why didn't you detect this distortion before?"
"It only appeared very recently. I was not actively searching for a distortion of that nature, and therefore did not detect it until it was localized to a time near our own. However, the disruption itself is not localized. It seems to span the continuum, and is moving ever closer to our time period."
"Any idea what its effects will be?"
"Robert, I believe this to be the Rift... a Level Zero disruption along the timestream."
"Level Zero? Isn't that the Department's way of saying 'Worst Case Scenario'?"
"Affirmative."
"Shit... What effects can we expect?"
"Earliest effects will be minor discontinuities in the timeline. You may find certain individuals no longer exist, or individuals you have never met appear to know you. Objects may fade in and out of the continuum. Time dilation and acceleration may become apparent. As time goes on, however, there will be more far-reaching effects. Once the Rift itself collides with this temporal node, it will cause intense tension along the superstring and hyperstring structures in this universe. The six submicroscopic dimensions may collapse upon themselves, with our three recognized dimensions following soon after. Time itself will then collapse, and the universe will exist as a static singularity... that is, until the next 'Big Bang.'"
"What you're saying is that the universe is restarting itself."
"Eventually that is what will occur. The timestream is being wiped from future to past. New timelines are being constantly generated, each being a singularity universe. At some point they will merge, due to their temporal correlations, and recreate the universe."
"If it's moving from future to past, then that must mean the Department of Chronal Affairs has already been wiped out, right?"
"Not necessarily. The End Point exists near the Nexus, and is probably protected from the effects of the Rift. However, the Nexus itself will eventually collapse, and take the End Point with it. This will occur just before all timelines merge into one."
"How can we stop it? Is there a way?"
Suddenly, the room felt colder. About twenty degrees Celsius colder. The Harbinger turned around in his chair, to see a young woman standing at his patio doorway.
"Well, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, miss?"
"There is little time, Robert Maxwell. We need to stop the Rift, and you're the only man who can help me. And you can call me Haven."
Part Two: The Archons
Damien Bosch, called Vanguard, pored over the files on the computer before him. Information that had been inputted by the Avatar. He would filter out the relevant points, and deliver them to the Prophet in his weekly status report. He looked across the room at Visionary, the man in the corner, painting yet another of his visions of the future. Visionary was silent, as always. Both because he was incapable of speech, and because he was concentrating on his paintings. Lately, his visions centered around a bizarre ribbon waving through the universe, indeed, even through the past. Avatar, the living receptacle of history, was even dumbfounded by the strange alterations in his perceptions of history. All he could see of late had to do with the same ribbon Visionary was now seeing. Then, Clairvoyance entered the room. She was carrying a candle in her hand, staring intently at the flame. Vanguard glanced at her briefly, idly hoping she didn't drop the candle and burn down their headquarters. Perhaps "headquarters" was too fine a term, as their place of residence was really a warehouse next to the Hudson River. "What do we have today, Vanguard?" came a voice from behind him. He turned around, and saw the Prophet, just as he had expected. He was constantly unnerved by the man's uncanny ability to sneak up on him. "I-I have the latest records written down by Avatar. They are more of the same. Some brightly-colored entity composed of energy, overtaking everything. I have not seen anything like it."
"I have been consulting the Obelisk, and it too tells me very little. Fear not, we shall find the cause of these visions. What is the status of our operative within the Hellfire Club?"
"Antoine DuQuesne informs us that Gregor Mendl has decided not to aid us. Instead, he is going to put the information we supplied him to a 'greater end.' In other words, Gregor is no longer with us."
"I should never have trusted him in the first place," spat the Prophet. "He will probably turn that information against us. But that does not matter, I suppose. Have you yet been able to find anyone within the Hellfire organizations who could be of use to us?"
"There is one... a man once called Kane X, but now calling himself Darque Feonix."
Part Three: Door unto Death
Blaze knocked on Marvel Girl's door for the fifth time, with still no answer. As he didn't have a key to her quarters, he kicked down the door, and groaned as he felt the pain in his leg. "Don't want to do dat again anytime soon..."
He entered her quarters to find her lying on the floor. Not overly alarmed at first, he simply approached her and placed his fingers to her neck, checking for a pulse. He waited for half a minute before he was certain that she had none. Panicking, he activated his communicator. "We need a doctor in Marvel Girl's quarters, now! She's not breathin' and she don't have a pulse!"
SuperGrover's voice was the one that responded first. "Don't move her, Blaze. I'll be down there straight away with help."
--End Chapter Two--Coming Next: The Investigation Begins
Chapter Three
"Those weak in mind could not
Withstand the fury of the Fiends.
Their assault, precise and relentless,
Made men tremble and flee. Few dared
Face the foes, save for the righteous
One. The one called Elim."
-The Last Days Chapter One, Verse 2
Part One: Investigation
Blaze stood over Marvel Girl's bed in the IHFC infirmary, and felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Cyclops standing next to him. "Do we know what's wrong with her?" he asked.
"Not yet. We barely got her breathin' again. She's still in a coma, an' we can't find a phys'cal cause for it," Blaze said.
"Maybe we should look at her activities over the last twenty four hours."
"She talked t' Outburst earlier today... somethin' 'bout a poss'ble promotion."
"Then let's get ahold of Ms. LeBeau."
...
"I went to see Justin over at de Black Court's mansion earlier today... dat's about it. He had just gotten chewed out by Harb for interruptin' some kinda meeting," Outburst said.
"What kind of meeting?" Cyclops inquired.
"Dunno... somthin' about some woman he had in his quarters. Justin didn't know who she was. But Harb said dat it was a 'very important individual, that doesn't have time to waste.' Dat's what DarkWolf tol' me, anyway."
"So the Harbinger has a new acquaintance, and doesn't see fit to inform other BHC members about her? Sound like something we should look into," Cyclops said.
"But I thought Marvel Girl was de important thing here," Blaze said. "Shouldn't we be trying to find a way to bring her 'round?"
"You can if you want, Blaze. But I have a feeling that the Harbinger has something to do with this." At that, Cyclops left Outburst's room, and Blaze was left with unsettling thoughts. Could the Harbinger really be trying to kill them?
Part Two: Interruptions
"If we sync our ships' shields with the Rift, we can avoid the devastating temporal effects it creates," Haven explained. "But having a way to survive inside the Rift is far from a workable solution."
"No kidding," the Harbinger mused. "Even if our ships can survive the Rift, Earth can't. We have to stop the Rift itself. Any ideas?"
"None that could possibly be utilized. We would have to do something like change the gravitational constant of the universe, or create an inverted space-time bubble around all the time periods affected by the Rift. Cosmic-scale solutions that couldn't possibly be used."
"This is encouraging," the Harbinger stated sarcastically, leaning back in his chair while sighing.
"What condition is Inferno in?"
"Top form. I just dropped her in for repairs in the 85th century a little while ago, after the battle around Saturn."
"Battle?"
"Shatax and Kirax....both of whom are dead now, I'm happy to say."
"I see."
"What about the Paradise Lost?"
"Still in good condition. MILTON has been preparing it for low-impact timeslides, so we do not accelerate the Rift any further."
"Low-impact?"
"They use less energy, and require less alteration to the universe's topology. Their only downside is their reduced accuracy, and there is a greater chance of being lost in the timestream."
"There is one other ship we could use, as well."
"Another timeship?"
"The Hyperion."
As the Harbinger was about to explain, they both turned as there was a knock on the door. "Hide," the Harbinger whispered as the door opened.
"Thanks for asking to come in," the Harbinger said, looking at Cyclops.
"Don't crack wise with me, Maxwell. I'm here on business."
"As are most people who barge in without asking. First DarkWolf, now you. Damn twentieth-century manners."
"Knock it off. Who is the woman that was with you earlier today?"
The Harbinger folded his hands and smiled. "Just a friend of mine. No one to concern yourself with, I assure you."
"Hmmm... Well, Marvel Girl is in a coma right now. And I think it has something to do with y--"
Cyclops' communicator beeped, and he answered it. "What is it?"
"It's Outburst," Blaze said over the link. "She came into the infirmary about ten minutes ago, complaining of a migraine. Now she's unconscious... and in a coma. And..." Blaze's breathing became ragged. "I'm... not feeling so well... myself. SuperGrover," Blaze said, looking over at the White King. "Think...maybe ... I'm gonna collapse now..."
SuperGrover caught Blaze as he fell, and lowered him easily to the floor. He entered the comm-link with Cyclops. "Blaze has just collapsed, Cyke. I think you should get back here as quickly as possible."
"I will," he said, looking at the Harbinger. He terminated the comm-link, and looked at the man before him. "If you have anything to do with this, I'll kill you myself." He left the Harbinger's quarters, slamming the door behind him.
Haven came out from under the Harbinger's bed, and looked up at him. "You can come out now, Haven."
She stood up, and looked back at the bed. "There were some...women's clothes underneath your bed. Do they belong to your wife/girlfriend/someone else?"
"Ex-girlfriend... if you would call her that. I guess I forgot to return them...oops."
"What was that all about?" she asked.
"I'm not sure. Cyclops seemed really pissed off."
Haven thought for several minutes, and looked away from the Harbinger. She had a bad feeling about what was happening. "Have those people who are ill quarantined."
"What?"
"Isolate them! It's vital that they not be allowed to jeopardize our mission here."
"But I hold no sway over the Hellfire Club. They are their own organization."
"Very well then..."
With a command from her mind, she triggered a bodyslide to Inferno.
"How the hell did you do that?" the Harbinger demanded. "This is my ship! You don't have the access codes for it!"
"Where is the Clan Chosen?" Haven asked.
"Probably in my arctic base. What are you doing?" he asked as she began typing on one of the control panels.
"DANTE is more efficient than the computers in your BHC quarters. And we're running out of time."
--End Chapter Three--Coming Next: Thomas Maxwell
Chapter Four
"His brothers called out to him
From the Eternal Beyond.
They spoke of his courage in battle,
And sent him their own strength.
Elim sought his enemies, the Fiends
Who struck terror in the minds
Of his kinsmen."
-The Last Days Chapter Seven, Verse 23
Part One: Voices in the Rift
His eyes began to fail him, the optic sensory implants fizzling and sparking. Ten years. Ten years since he was thrust into this ship, bloody and broken, a refugee from a world that never was. And now he was back where he had started, helpless, lost, and dying. He thought he heard a voice. The melodic voice of his only friend. The computer that helped him when he needed it. He would have laughed at the idea, had he the strength. A computer as his only friend. He supposed it was only fitting, considering how machinelike he had become. He felt a tingling in his arms, as the lubricants normally pumped through his limbs were exhausted. As his vision failed, he began to see a bright light before him. Yes, he thought. The Headmaster has chosen me... He will grant me eternal life. He grasped for the image of his ruler, the man who controlled a world. Wait...There never was a Headmaster...that world is gone now... The chilling realization sank in, and he felt all of his vital functions seeping out every pore. Thomas... came a new voice. Join with the Rift... Embrace your destiny... Begin anew... He tried to grab the voice, the soothing entity that spoke to him form afar. He could feel it sliding away, ever so slowly gaining distance. No! Don't leave me...
Sensations abruptly returned to his arms, and he felt something gripping it. His eyes focused, and he saw a man and a woman standing over him. "R-Robert..." he said.
"Thomas? What happened here?" Robert Maxwell asked quickly.
"Rift..." he coughed. "The Rift. Took it from me...YOU TOOK IT FROM ME!!!" he shouted, thrashing wildly. The Harbinger and Haven held him down, trying to prevent him from injuring himself further.
"Hallucinations," Haven surmised.
"He's lucky we found him. It looks like KEATS is damaged, otherwise Thomas wouldn't be so close to death."
"We need to go to Paradise Lost."
"So why can't we?"
"Lost in the Rift. Possibly intact. Cannot be sure right now."
"Take Thomas back to Inferno. I'll stay here and see what I can do about fixing KEATS and the Hyperion."
Haven picked up Thomas Maxwell, and took a bodyslide to Inferno.
Part Two: Cryptic Offers
Antoine DuQuesne looked out the window in his quarters. It had begun snowing again, coming down in large clumps of snowflakes. A few inches were on the ground already, with no end in sight. He sighed as he thought about Marvel Girl. She had been the first to take ill, then Outburst, Blaze, and Cyclops followed. Mere hours after Marvel Girl had been found by Blaze. How could something spread so quickly?
Flyin' Ryan had ordered everyone to stay out of the infirmary, to reduce the risk of further infections. Ryan himself was the only person allowed to enter the room where the sick were being kept. So far, they had simply become comatose. No response to any stimuli. Their conditions were stable, thankfully, but no one could be certain how long that would last. He wondered if it had anything to do with the Archons. The group that had approached him several months before.
"Are you Antoine DuQuesne?" He turned around to see a man towering over him at seven feet of height. The man's eyes were a sapphire blue, and seemed to bore right through the FBI agent. The man's hair was an odd shade of green, that glinted in the light more than would be expected. His expression was unsettling, resembling that of a predator stalking its prey. Yet there was a certain indication of respect in the tall man's demeanor, something DuQuesne noticed right away.
"Yes. Who might you be, and how did you get in here?" DuQuesne answered succintly.
"I am called the Prophet...and as long as you fear me, I can find you."
"A peculiar response. I think I'll be calling security now." DuQuesne reached for his telephone, but felt compelled to cease that action.
"That wouldn't be wise. Besides, I come to you with an offer. One you may find most lucrative."
"I'm not interested in taking bribes from mutants."
"Mutant? You wound me, Agent DuQuesne. I am no mutant."
"Whatever else you are, you are illegally in this building. So either make your offer or leave."
"Jon Tolliver."
"What?"
"That is my offer. Find Jon Tolliver, and you are well on your way to a 'brighter future'."
DuQuesne looked away for a moment, to ponder what the Prophet was saying. He turned back to speak, but the Prophet was gone.
His thoughts were jostled as he fell backwards in his chair and hit the floor. "Damn," he muttered as he stood up. He was so wrapped up in thinking about the Archons that he didn't notice the person banging on his door.
He opened it, and saw Gregor Mendl looking at him. "What do you want?" DuQuesne asked.
"It's about the Archons. We need to have a little talk, Agent DuQuesne."
--End Chapter Four--Coming Next: Gregor and Q
Chapter Five
Part One: Deceitful
"Have a seat," DuQuesne said, indicating the swivel chair in front of his guest.
"Very well," Gregor said, sitting down. DuQuesne followed suit, and waited for the former Red Rook to speak.
"I heard about what was going on, and decided that I needed to come and offer assistance," Gregor said.
"Assistance? Do you know something about what's going on?"
"I have a feeling that the Archons are causing this."
"Why would they do that? The Hellfire Club has done nothing against them."
"True, but they may be using the Club to get to me. I deceived them, and they are probably going to seek retribution."
"Exactly what did you do to them?"
"Vanguard, the little toadie, came to me a few months ago. He offered me some information about the future. About a way for me to reclaim power in the Club. At first, I was completely up for the challenge. Then I realized that I would be doing exactly what the people who Vanguard works for want me to do. I decided I would instead use the data to lead the Club to a more profitable future."
"But you are no longer with the Club."
"Also true, but that may change. Even if I cannot directly influence the Club, I know I will always be part of its spirit."
"I was never one for nostalgia."
"That's the problem with you government people," Gregor said. "Too damn serious for your own good."
"I suppose."
"There is another reason I came here to speak to you."
"Of course."
"I know that you are working for the Archons. But I am not certain exactly what you are doing for them. Would you care to enlighten me?"
DuQuesne sighed. "Honestly, I think I'm just here to keep tabs on you people. Vanguard has told me to simply stay where I am, and not jeopardize their cause. Frankly, I think they're scared that you're going to spill the information they gave you. I'll bet they were convinced you would take over the Club, and then they would control the Club through you. Instead, you have data about the future, and they have no control whatsoever. They may have unleashed this disease on the Club to make you realign yourself with them."
"It's possible. I only wish there was a way to know for sure. After all, this illness could have absolutely nothing to do with the Archons."
"One question: How did you get into the mansion if you aren't in the Club anymore?"
"I used Jon's access code at the gate. As I suspected, she never changes it."
"I see. She hasn't told it to me yet. I wonder why..."
"Why would she tell you, anyway? Unless...." Gregor was quiet for a moment. "Do you mean to tell me that you are the White Queen's current paramour?"
"I'm fairly certain I am... we haven't spoken much lately."
"My, my, Agent DuQuesne. You obviously have impeccable taste." DuQuesne was unable to tell if Gregor was being sarcastic or not, and Gregor was not going to tell him one way or the other. He simply walked out of the room, and Q quickly followed, somehow knowing Gregor's intentions.
--End Chapter Five--
Chapter Six
"I asked, and I did not receive.
I sought, but I did not find.
I called, but you did not come."
--The Last Days Chapter One, Verse 11
Part One: Setting Out
Jennifer Reston chewed the end of her pen, considering what to write. Her friends in the Clan Chosen had decided to set off on their own, and she felt inclined to join them. But she could not find the words to explain her actions to the Harbinger. She knew he would miss her, as she would him. But she also felt unable to be around him, with the events of their mutual past that had come to light. Finally, she began to write.
Dear Robert,
There are many things I would want to say to you, but I am not sure how. I know that you made some mistakes in deciding what to do with me. I don't hate you for what you did to my father. I know you were a different person then, and are not that same man now. But I also feel I can no longer be here, waiting for you. The others have decided to leave, and I'm going with them. If, for no other reason, simply to keep an eye on Bluespark. I think you know how much he means to me, and can understand my decision. I will never forget you, Robert.
Sincerely,
Jennifer E. Reston
She looked at the letter she had written, and decided to fold it and set it upon the desk. It was not as long as she would have liked, but the others were waiting. There was still one thing that she was unsure of. While she now knew that the Harbinger had killed her father, she didn't know exactly why. She felt a chill run down her spine as they performed a bodyslide to New York City.
Part Two: The Ebon Death
"Haven, how is he doing?" the Harbinger asked.
"He's doing better. He should be coming around instantly."
"I was wondering...have we ever met?"
"Once, when I was a child. Name was Arianna Wilson."
"That's it! I knew you seemed familiar. But why can't I read you?"
"Not letting you."
"I've also noticed that you tend to be very brief when you are...nervous?"
"Just the way we speak in my time."
The Harbinger sat down. "I know you're not telling me something, Haven."
Haven took a seat, as well, the beeping of the medical monitors slightly audible in the background. "There is something I'm not telling you, Robert. Better that you don't know."
"You know that's not going to satisfy me."
"It will have to be sufficient. If I told you the truth, it would compromise our safety."
"If you tell me, it will go no further."
"Robert, I can't," she said, standing up. She walked to a nearby viewport and stared out into the timestream. It seemed brighter than usual, perhaps a side effect of the Rift. The Harbinger approached her, and put his hands on her shoulders. She turned her head slightly to look at him, then decided to go back to looking at the timestream. "Just tell me, Arianna. Does it have something to do with the illnesses in the Hellfire Club?"
She spun around. "How did you know?"
"Honestly? It was a lucky guess."
"What are you doing about this?"
"You have to tell me what you know about it...and how to cure it."
"It's the Ebon Death. It was used after the End Conflicts to cleanse the genepool. All but ten thousand people were killed by it in the Purges."
"You mean this disease was engineered?"
"It was tailored to so-called 'defective' genes. Just about everyone on Earth is susceptible to it."
"What are its effects?"
"First stages, coma. After a few days, death. Very simple."
"So why does it not affect your people? Or me, for that matter?"
"Your cybernetics screen it out. As for everyone else...we're immune."
"But you were born in the 21st century...just a few years from now. Certainly before this Ebon Death could have been created."
"The Director altered my genes to make me immune."
"So how did this disease come back with you?"
"Must have been the manual timeslide. The old pad doesn't have the safeguards tethers use."
"500th century technology at its finest," the Harbinger muttered. "Is there any cure?"
Haven looked down. "A cure? There is none, Robert. They're going to die, along with about 99 percent of Earth's population."
--End Chapter Six--
Chapter Seven
Part One: Timebender
"That settles it... we have to tell them."
"Robert, no. We can't."
"Haven, if I don't at least make an attempt to save them, then my entire mission is jeopardized. These people cannot be allowed to die. Not now."
"But they can't know that I exist! Please! You can't tell them!"
The Harbinger looked into her eyes, and saw something he had rarely seen in his lifetime. Such a fear, a mortal terror. As if she were frightened out of her mind. "Arianna, what is it? Why are you so terrified?"
She looked away from his gaze, and her eyes closed briefly. "Robert, no one can know I'm here... please don't tell them."
"Are you running from someone? Is that why you're hiding?"
She turned to face him again. "I am trying to keep from being found. I am afraid someone in the Hellfire Club may know the person I'm hiding from. That's why we must be careful."
"Who do you fear so?"
"The... the Timebender... if she finds me, she'll kill me."
"This 'Timebender' will have to get past me."
"Robert, please... don't play the hero this time. You could never stop her. Not in the past. Certainly not in the future. But the Rift is the threat now. We have to stop it."
"But the Ebon Death will kill everyone on Earth if we don't stop IT."
"You can try to find a cure... but please don't tell them about me. I'll be on Inferno trying to reestablish contact with the Paradise Lost."
"All right, Arianna. Please check on Thomas while you're gone."
She nodded, and flashed into out of the continuum. Robert Maxwell sighed, and took his time as he headed for the IHFC mansion.
Part Two: Shadows of Feelings Lost, Not Long Ago
SuperGrover waited patiently for his guest to arrive. The orange streak in his hair was long gone, though he had never found the parties responsible. He sighed, as he considered the new threat. This disease that was crippling the Club. And he was powerless to stop it. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Q had left suddenly, after a mysterious visit from Gregor. He had been informed that the Harbinger was on his way to the mansion. He felt as if things were spiralling out of control. He needed someone to bring a bit of that control back to him. He looked up as his door opened. Luna stepped through the door, and smiled as she saw him. "Hello. You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, I did." SuperGrover stood up, and approached the leader of the Red Hellions. "I've just... felt so out of it lately. I needed to talk to someone."
"So, why me?"
"Well, I..." He lost the words he was seeking, and was speechless.
Luna finished for him. "...this is about Jubilee. Isn't it?"
"Well...yes, it is."
"Grover, I'm not Jubilee. At some time, I may have been. I know who she was. And I have her memories. But I'm not her." She moved her face dangerously close to his own. "But I know she cared about you intensely. And you cared for her. She'll never forget you... and neither will I." Her lips were terribly close to his now, and she paused. She felt the tingle of his telekinetic aura, as it touched her face. It was an unusual sensation, but certainly not an unenjoyable one. Before he could move forward, she retracted, and he found himself wishing he had kissed her. But he knew it wouldn't have been right. This wasn't the person he had slowly been falling in love with a few months before. No, this was someone different. Similar in countenance, perhaps, but not in mind.
"I'm sorry, Luna. I shouldn't have called you here." He didn't speak of the feelings he had for the other people in his life. He decided it would be better to not mention them to this woman. How many relationships had he had in his life? The first was Jen Larue. But after his "death", she had married another. Then there was Sabre. She had never returned his feelings, and he knew better than to press the issue. He thought he had something with Jubilee, before she was killed by Anti Christ. Then this woman appeared, with a face almost identical to Jubilee's, but with a completely different personality. There had been Nytshade, who had pursued him briefly, but he expressed his annoyance with her actions, and she did not persist. He wished things had been simpler. But life could never be easy. Every day had to be a struggle. A battle between the good within him, and the evil inside him and around him.
Finally, he turned to face Luna again. She was standing very patiently, waiting for him to say something. He looked at her, and saw the concern in her eyes. For an instant, he thought he saw Jubilee; in the sparse light glinting off her eyes. "I'm glad you came," he said.
"I'm glad I came, too," she said, smiling. "I can tell how tense you are. You should relax a bit, Grover."
"How can I relax? I can't be infected, because my telekinetic field prevents it. But everyone else CAN. WIth the exception, I suppose, of Ryan. Maybe Impossible Man, since he isn't even human. But everyone else is susceptible. And we have no idea where it came from. Cyclops thinks the Harbinger has something to do with it, and Casey himself is now a victim of the plague. Then Q left on a 'hunch' to find the culprit, after Gregor paid a visit. This day has just been one bizarre happening after another." He sighed as he sat down on his sofa, and looked down at the floor. "I'm open to suggestions."
She sat down next to him, perhaps a bit closer than she should have. "I wish I had suggestions for you. But I don't. You have to do what you think is the best course of action."
"Familiar words... but they still hold truth, don't they?"
"What you think the best course of action to be," a new voice spoke, "is often the worst path to take."
--End Chapter Seven--
Chapter Eight
"I foresaw his coming,
His brilliant eyes and wild spirit.
I knew he would be our salvation,
Our only hope. But They knew of his coming
As well, and sought to destroy him.
Thus, I raised him to be our Savior,
And gave him brothers beyond peer
For him to take with him on his
Righteous crusade."
-The Last Days Chapter One, Verse 3
Part One: Confrontation, Deception, and Allegiance
Gregor Mendl and Antoine DuQuesne stood at the door to the small warehouse next to the Hudson River. It looked ordinary, unimportant. But these men knew its purpose. For Gregor, it housed a sinister lot. A group bent on domination of an interdimensional magnitude. He had been false in his assumption that the Prophet was a madman. No, the Prophet was a perfectly sane man, lashing out against a conscienceless Earth. For Q, it was the source of a paycheck. His salary working for the FBI was meager in comparison. And so he found himself spending less and less time at his office, and more time carrying out the will of the Archons. But how far would he go? Would he condemn another to death? Even kill?
"You have come," the man behind the door said.
"As I'm sure you foresaw," Gregor said. "Let us in."
Vanguard opened the door all the way, and let the two men inside. Gregor entered first, and DuQuesne almost expected the man to die immediately after. He knew the whims of the Prophet. He was a man who, while not given to fits of anger, was quite swift and decisive in his retribution. Surprisingly (only to DuQuesne), Gregor lived. "At least your leader still has some common sense left," Gregor said to Vanguard.
"Tread carefully," the small man said. "You live because he wills it."
"Right."
"Wait here," Vanguard said as he left the room to fetch the Prophet. He knew his master was in meditation with the Obelisk. But he was also aware that his liege was expecting the visitors.
"Why are we here, Gregor?" DuQuesne asked.
"There's only one way to find out if the Archons have infected the Hellfire Club with this disease. And this is it."
"I tried to tell you that this isn't their style...but you refuse to listen."
"You still work for them. I don't. Of course, your will has been tainted by their goals. How could it not? Just know your place, DuQuesne. The Prophet values nothing, save his own life and his precious objectives. He'd kill us both without a second thought, if we were to offend him."
The Prophet entered, with Vanguard in tow. Q and Gregor looked at them. Gregor's eyes locked with the Prophet's, their mutual dislike apparent. Across the gulf of ideals that separated them, a war was being fought. Gregor knew his plan would almost certainly fail, but he thought it worth a try. At least he would die trying to save the Hellfire Club. "Gregor," the Prophet said. "Why do you insult me with your presence?"
"Just thought we could do a little catching up, 'old friend.'"
"Did you really think it necessary to bring the FBI agent with you? You never needed a bodyguard before..." the Prophet said with a sneer. "Feeling old?"
"I can take care of myself. DuQuesne isn't my 'bodyguard'. He's here because I want him here while I destroy your little New World Order."
"What?" DuQuesne asked. "I thought we were going to ask them about--"
Gregor's face turned quickly to DuQuesne's, and gave him a look that said "Shut up!" DuQuesne was effectively silenced by Gregor's glare.
"As I was saying," Gregor continued, "This isn't your world, Prophet. You will either do as I tell you, or you will cease to exist."
"I think not, Traitor," the Prophet told him. "I have the Obelisk of Arcadia! And you, my friend, have absolutely nothing."
"Ahh, but I still have the information you gave me all those months ago. I'm sure there are people who would be very interested in it... and would be willing to pay top dollar for the data I have."
"Who are you, but a businessman? No one would believe you."
"I think the Enlightened would be interested in the data. And they are your adversaries, are they not?"
"Yes, they are. But you do not wish to involve yourself in the conflict between us. You, and all those you know, would regret meddling in our affairs."
"I think you'll regret recruiting me even more," Gregor said as he approached the Prophet. DuQuesne knew there was going to be a fight.
Gregor stood in front of the Prophet, and glared into his eyes. "You can't win the war on the horizon," the Prophet told him. "You'll be swept away, cast off into history, where you belong. You and the Hellfire Club to which you once belonged are relics. It's time for a new brand of order. MINE."
"Over my dead body, Prophet," he said, staring deeper into the Prophet's blue, glowing eyes. "I'll die before I see you in charge."
"Have it your way, fool!" The Prophet infused his hand with the magick of the Obelisk, and struck Gregor across the face. He was flung across the room, into a wall covered with apocalyptic paintings. Gregor was dazed, but only momentarily. He activated his inborn ability, and catapulted himself through the air. He slammed into the Prophet with incredible momentum, and felt his shoulder dislocate at the point of impact. He grunted in satisfaction as he sensed the Prophet's ribs cracking under the assault. "Now, DuQuesne!" Gregor shouted. Without hesitation, DuQuesne used his own mutant ability. Namely, the capacity to generate illusions. Instantly, there were twenty Gregor Mendl's in the room, and the Prophet was confused. But only for a moment. Ah, the advantages of holding the power of the Obelisk. He was immediately able to differentiate between illusion and reality, but it was too late. Gregor crushed the man beneath him, and smiled as the man's bones were shattered. "Your order is crushed, Prophet, as are you." Gregor stood over the dead man underneath him, and was a bit amused. Why had it been so easy? He decided not to worry about it too much, and walked toward DuQuesne. "The others will not pose a threat with their leader dead," Q said. "Exactly," Gregor concurred.
"I'll make sure the rest have left," DuQuesne said. "You go on ahead."
Gregor nodded and left DuQuesne to his task. Q tried to touch the body on the floor, but felt nothing. It eventually evaporated into nothingness. "DuQuesne," the Prophet spoke. He stood up and saw the green-haired blue-eyed man, alive and well, standing in front of him. "You are not the only master of illusion, you know," the Prophet grinned. "Now, the traitor trusts you. You have done well."
"But what about the affliction that is crippling the Hellfire Club?"
"Affliction?" the Prophet asked, as if caught off guard. "Do tell me more, Agent DuQuesne."
--End Chapter Eight--
Chapter Nine
"Few knew of my existence,
For I had learned by trials of fire
That the Hidden survived longer
Than the Visible. I was once called
Merlin. And I was once called Gomurr.
But now, I have no name.
I am the Herald of the Ascended,
And my purpose is singular."
-The Last Days Chapter One, Verse 4
Part One: Thoughts of Revenge, While Seeking Redemption
Apothecary stared down upon the ground, the rain beating on his protective field. Sometimes he forgot how it felt to stand in the rain...to just feel the cool wetness of it trickling down his neck. His cybernetics now prevented him any such pleasures. He had never asked to participate in the sentinel program...he was simply captured and assimilated. And that was why he sought the Obelisk of Arcadia. The mythical artifact his former friends, Luthos and Dragonmaster, often spoke of. It could give him back his humanity. It could give him everything he had lost. It could restore his fractured psyche. It could imbue his sword with the power it once had. Yes, Vengeace...the cosmic blade that was bestowed upon him by Death herself. He felt its blade with his finger, tracing the sharp, lethal edge. He could find absolutely no imperfection in his wondrous weapon. But it glowed no longer. Its red, blinding illumination had long ago vanished. It had been separated from him for far too long. The building he saw in the distance...that was his goal. A group had claimed to have information. The information he had thought to glean from his former friends. He cursed the Harbinger and the Clan Chosen. It was their fault, he knew. Their fault that he was made into this hideous mockery of a man. And someday, someday soon, he would make them pay. And they would know the Vengeance of the Apothecary.
Part Two: Broken Promises
Thomas Maxwell's eyes opened, slowly. The light--so bright, he thought--the light told him he was alive. He sensed another person nearby. His body would not respond to his commands, and he began to panic. His vision was still clouded, and he was in a strange place. He almost screamed, but felt a tranquility descend upon his mind, almost like a gentle caress from a lover... something he had felt only once in his life. He exhaled deeply, and began to relax. For a moment, he thought he was with June Freeson...his first--and only--love. The woman who died in his arms in a brutal air strike. For him, it wasn't nearly long enough ago. Every time he thought of her, it was like a wound that opened again. He remembered the other man... the one with whom he shared a unique kinship. The man...who was he? A harbinger, perhaps? Why was it so confused? His mind was failing... his life was slipping into nonexistence. He focused his thoughts on the lessons he learned from the old man. "Time travel is our destiny and our right. But it is also a gift to ourselves. It must always be respected. Never, ever taken for granted." He never took time travel for granted. Rather, he cursed the responsibility it gave him. Why did he have to be one of the chosen few? He felt his panic returning, but just as quickly, the calm soothed him. Almost by instinct, he realized this peace was being imposed upon him. "Who...who is it?" he asked meekly, even though he meant it to sound demanding.
"Shh... just rest, Thomas." He felt a hand on his own. It was so very cold. So cold. Even to his cybernetic hand. How could someone have such a cold hand?
"Well...what's going on?"
"We saved your life. You were near death."
"Yes...the Lights... the glorious Lights... they were going to take me back... back to June... back to my home... the home I wanted--needed--to have..."
"No, Thomas. The Rift is the enemy... we have to destroy it."
"But it spoke to me! Don't you see? It's not our enemy! It's our salvation! It promises us a better world!" Then he recalled a promise that was made to him long ago... by the old man. "Thomas, I come from a different place. While it has its problems, it's not the cesspool of death and misery that this world is. Come with me, Thomas, and I will take you to a better world. I promise you, you'll be helping me create a brighter future for all of us."
He had believed the man then. Helped him stop an assassination. But he was without a world of his own. Oh, his own world still existed. But it seemed fake somehow. As if it weren't supposed to be. An accident with some trans-dimensional teleportation equipment left him nearly dead... and he had accepted his fate. But the gods of irony would not let him rest... no, he was dropped onto a ship. A flying city called Hyperion. There, his body was rebuilt, and he took on his reluctant task of policing the timestream. He thought the Lights were going to save him...take him back to the world where he belonged. Or maybe, just maybe, put him in a place that would make him happy. A corner of the universe with June. Their own Garden of Eden. And they would start the human race over again. A DREAM! he shouted within his mind. IT'S JUST A DREAM! IT CAN NEVER BE....
Haven felt his pain. Her abilities gave her that power. The more she tried to calm him with her emotion-based powers, the more panicked and delusional he became. She realized that this was the effect of the Rift. He had been exposed to it, and had nearly been driven mad. The horrors he must have seen... they would be enough to make any man insane.
"The...the Lights..." he managed, "...they were beautiful...they love me... they want to hold me and keep me safe... they are my life... please take me back to them... please... please.... please.... please......" He continued to mutter that last word, over and over and over again. Haven was nearly crying. The sheer intensity of his despair. As if he had been ripped from Heaven and thrust into Hell... were her perceptions of the Rift truly accurate? Was it the evil thing she thought it was? Or was it something more?
--End Chapter Nine--
Chapter Ten
"There was also a man,
Who the legends say
That God Himself cast down
From Heaven. A man that used
Time as a weapon. A tool
For conquest."
-The Last Days Chapter One, Verse 5
Part One: A Single Recovery, a Thousand Questions
Robert Maxwell stood silently as SuperGrover and Luna stared at him. He knew they didn't trust him. And he didn't much trust them himself. But that didn't mean that he would let them all die. And they would not die. He wouldn't let the Hellfire Club perish... not yet. They still had a purpose to serve in his grand scheme. When their purpose had been served, then he would consider terminating the Hellfire Club. But not before.
"You have a bad habit of entering without knocking, Robert," SuperGrover said.
"As do some of the people around here," the Harbinger retorted.
"What did you come here to accomplish?" Luna asked.
"The disease that's ravaging the Club. I'm here to help you stop it."
"What do you know about it?" SuperGrover questioned.
The Harbinger smiled. "What makes you think I know something about it?"
"You only get involved in these things when it is important to you. Obviously, you have something to do with it."
"Don't be so paranoid. I just want to help. And I've had just about enough of your pathetic mindprobes, Lunatic. Knock it off."
"I can't read you, you know. Why is that?" she asked.
"Because A) I am a chronal anomaly and B) I have psi-baffles in my cranium. I wish people would stop asking me stupid questions like that. Let's just get down to business."
Suddenly, Outburst crashed through the door. She seemed disoriented, confused, and possibly insane. At least to the Harbinger.
"Restrain her!" he quickly ordered.
SuperGrover glared at the time traveler briefly, and reluctantly did as he asked. SuperGrover caught the young Hellion, and lay her gently on the floor while she twitched and moaned. "What's wrong with her? And how in the hell did she get out of the infirmary?" Luna demanded. Then, the Red King entered the room. He was breathing heavily, and answered between breaths. "She...regained consciousness...but I wouldn't let her....leave...and she...fought me..." As he caught his breath, he spoke more quickly. "...And I really didn't want to have to hurt her. Her powers also make it difficult for me to control her flesh."
"Her powers probably kept her from death," the Harbinger said. "Luna, I think you'd better get to the infirmary as quickly as possible."
"Why?"
"There is no doubt in my mind that you've been exposed to this disease. In fact, the whole Hellfire Club should be quarantined."
"Dammit, Maxwell," Ryan cursed. "Stop giving orders! You are not in charge here, and you had best stop acting as if you were!"
"Don't test my patience, Mr. Jensen. I've had a very short supply of it lately."
"And only a fool would threaten the Flesh Elemental," Ryan reminded him.
"Point taken. If you won't quarantine this mansion, then at least let me give you this." He reached inside his vest jacket and pulled out a vial of semi-transparent liquid. "This is a sample of the microbots in my bloodstream. I spent the last hour trying to modify them to act as antibodies. But I need a little help. Has Avalon been infected?"
"How should we know?" SuperGrover asked. "He's a member of the Black Court!"
The Harbinger closed his eyes, and cursed inward. "God, it's been a long day."
"Robert, do you have any idea how serious this illness is?" SuperGrover asked. "We have a right to know, if you know anything about it."
"It's terminal within 72 hours," he answered simply. "It looks like Outburst got lucky, and was able to fight it off. But that's only because she's essentially immortal. So don't expect any of the others to be so lucky."
"I don't care how you know about this disease," Ryan said. "But I do want to know how to cure it."
"As far as I know, there is no cure. But I never bought into that 'inevitability' thing."
"Then let's get started," SuperGrover said. "Luna, contact the Black Court, and get Avalon over here as quickly as possible."
"Get Gomurr while you're at it," the Harbinger suggested. "We're going to need all the help we can get. And let's hope the Black Court is willing to help."
Part Two: A Road to Nowhere
Gregor and Q were quiet as the FBI agent drove them back to the Hellfire mansion in his late model Tempo GL. Gregor looked out the window, in silence, considering the events of the evening. He knew the Archons had nothing to do with the plague infesting the Hellfire Club. That was clear to him now. But he feared that in killing the Prophet, he had given the Enlightened a serious advantage in this desparate war to change the future.
DuQuesne, on the other hand, thought quite differently. He knew the Prophet was alive. In fact, the Archons had orchestrated the entire meeting as a way to solidify Q's alliance with Gregor. Q saw the logic in their strategy. If Gregor trusted him enough, he would not be the least bit suspicious if DuQuesne asked him certain questions regarding the information the Archons had given the former Red Rook. Then DuQuesne came to a question.
"Exactly where do you live, Gregor?"
"I have a rather large house in Albany. It's one of the few assets I have left."
"And where are we going, exactly?"
"Just follow the road, my friend." He turned back to the window, and spoke more softly. "Just follow the road."
DuQuesne did as he was instructed, but wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing. He was conflicted in his loyalties now, and saw himself slowly warming up to Gregor's motivations and objectives. Only time would tell where his true loyalty lay.
Part Three: Rift, Robert, Rewind
She was in her corner... her tiny crevice, her rupture in the continuum. A miniscule crack along the fabric of time. Like a fragile eggshell, it covered her. She had to remain still. It was the only way she would survive the rebirth of the universe. She recalled that day, so long ago, when she set down this path. When a moment of rage set the end of time in motion. She had caused the Rift. Not quite voluntarily, but she still blamed herself for it. She resisted the urge to laugh. A conscience... a conscience! Absurd! How could the mistress of the timestream have use for such a thing? No, consciences were for mortals, for men. Not the gods of the universe. Not for the goddess of alternity. She would be there, she knew. When the universe collapsed around her, when time itself fell apart, she would be there. She would watch the universe begin anew, and she would be its ruler. She would be the only supreme being. And she would have Robert Maxwell for herself, for all eternity... whether he wanted her or not.
"June..." he began.
"Yeah? What's up?" she said as she fumbled for the data cartridges in her locker.
"I...have something I have to tell you."
"So tell me already, silly! Come on, I'm your best friend."
"June...ever since I met you, I've... felt a certain way. You are very special to me. What I'm trying to say is..."
"It's okay, Bobby. I care about you, too! You can tell me ANYTHING."
"It's just so hard...June... because... I don't know how you'll react."
June looked into his eyes, and began to see into his soul. She looked deeply into his blue eyes, and knew. She was happy. Happier than she had ever been. At that moment, she saw an eternity with him, the first and only person she would ever love. saw the look on her face, and knew what she was thinking. What she did in the next moment completely shocked him. June slowly leaned forward, and pressed her lips to his. She put her arms around Maxwell's back, and pulled her closer to him. She was in love, and she knew that he loved her too. They kissed for what seemed like hours, but couldn't have been more than fifteen seconds. June slowly broke off the kiss, and took a very small step back. "How...How long have you known?" he asked.
"Bobby...I've known for years. I knew how you felt about me for so long, I just wanted so badly for you to show it."
"So you feel the same way about me?"
"Oh God, Bobby...yes, I do. I love you!" She stepped closer to him and they embraced, both of them crying with joy. None of the other students even noticed, rushing through the halls. June looked up into Robert's eyes, and smiled sweetly at him. They held each other for several minutes, tears running down both of their faces. They hardly spoke at all, just reveling in the moment.
"I love you, too..." was all Robert could say.
That was when everything unraveled. "Drop to the floor!" They both heard the forceful command, and saw around two dozen men crash through doors, through the ceiling, in through classroom windows. She knew who they were. Soldiers of the Eastern Confederation. They were taking the school hostage. And were probably going to use it as a base of operations. She wanted to be somewhere, anywhere but Chicago, here and now. Why did she force herself to relive it?
She felt Robert's hand slowly leave her own. She almost shouted to him, but knew it would get her killed. He approached one of the men, and tried to subdue him. He payed for his recklessness immediately. He was elbowed in the face, and fell backwards against the wall. The soldier pierced his abdomen with an energy bolt, and Robert slowly bled to death on the floor. She cried over him, in a way she had never cried about anything. As if her heart had been taken from her. Captured, twisted, shattered. Shattered. Broken.
She took herself out of the school, out of that time, off that planet called Earth, and back into the timestream. In truth, she hadn't left. She had just relived the defining moment of her life. What would things have been like had Robert Maxwell lived? Would they have ended up happy, together, forever? She was thirty-five years old, and still in perfect health. She knew that her love would not be able to resist her. There was simply no way any man, especially Robert Maxwell, could resist the Timebender. Time will rewind, then you'll be mine.
--End Chapter Ten--
Chapter Eleven
Part One: Search for a Cure
The Harbinger looked over Avalon's shoulder, watching the young Black Prince as he collated the data pertaining to the Harbinger's microbots. A schematic of one of the tiny machines was displayed on the screen. It was shaped like a sphere, with little openings all around its surface. It was a gunmetal gray, and didn't seem to be very reflective. Part of the microbot bore an inscription that read "Produced by StelDyne Cybernetics, Inc." The Harbinger tapped a key on the keyboard. "The inscription isn't important, Avalon. This is." The Harbinger manipulated the keyboard until a tiny segment of the sphere's surface was magnified. There was what appeared to be an opening, square in shape. "That's the primary input port," Avalon guessed. "Exactly," the Harbinger verified. "We need to link with that."
"How do you usually modify the programming of these things?" Avalon asked. "Surely you don't create hard links with them."
"No, I typically don't. Their operations are overseen by my cranial engram/processor unit. I usually don't have to directly influence them. The processor takes input from my brain and translates it into instructions for the microbots. But this disease is far too complex for the processor to simply create a cure for. We need to directly modify them. If we can reprogram one, it can be instructed to reprogram the rest."
"So what's the nature of this 'program'?"
"We need to insert an S & D protocol, first."
"Search and Destroy? That's in..." Avalon punched some keys, until a listing of the microbots database appeared on the screen. "...Cluster 4419." Avalon activated Cluster 4419, and a list of parameters followed. "First parameter: NATURE OF TARGET," Avalon said.
"Input 'GENETYPE'," the Harbinger told him.
Avalon did as he was told, and the display changed. A new set of parameters was given. "Don't worry, Avalon. It just had to modify itself to accommodate a GENETYPE target reference."
"All right. Now what?"
"For the SEVERITY OF INFESTATION parameter, input 'TERMINAL'."
Avalon complied. "Now it wants to know its END TASK TIME REF."
"Input 'two-four-zero-zero-zero-zero ref insert'."
"And that means?"
"They will cease functioning 24 hours after insertion."
"Got it. Now comes the big one... GENETYPE DATA," Avalon said.
"Let me get Ryan," the Harbinger said. He saw the Red King standing over Marvel Girl's comatose form, with Blaze on the next bed, and then Cyclops. Luna was on the bed next to Cyclops', and had just begun to feel the effects of the Ebon Death, having become comatose. The Harbinger had set up a forcefield partition in the infirmary, so the disease could not spread further. Flyin' Ryan stepped through the forcefield, carrying a vial of blood. He handed it to the Harbinger. "This is what you wanted, correct?"
"It is. This is Marvel Girl's blood, right?"
"Yes. Is that all?"
"Yeah. Now go stay on the other side of the forcefield."
The Red King was tempted to insult the Harbinger, but decided it wouldn't be worth the effort. If we want to save these people, then I have to put up with Maxwell's bad attitude, he decided.
The Harbinger held up the vial, and focused his optical sensor on it. He increased the resolution to its maximum, and homed in on the Ebon Death virus. When he found one, he began a complete analysis using his optical sensor suite, embedded in his artificial eyeball. He then started muttering numbers aloud, in clusters of three. "994 339 143 718 902 023..."
Avalon interrupted him. "What the hell are you talking about?"
The Harbinger stopped his analysis, and looked at the Black Prince. "It's the RNA sequence of the virus. Input it as I say it. Got that?"
"Yeah." Avalon turned back to his keyboard, and inputted the numbers the Harbinger recited to him.
This will take a few hours, the Harbinger thought as he expressed the numbers in the RNA sequence.
Part Two: Do Not Disturb
The White Queen was not in the best of spirits. She had been on a business trip for the past week, and had returned to find several members of the Inner Circle to be near death. She was now talking with Darque Feonix, trying to take her mind off the others.
"Are you well?" she asked.
"Not really. I still can't control my visions, and I'm really slipping. I can't even focus on a specific month anymore! It's maddening!"
"Have you sought any help regarding this? Certainly there must be a doctor somewhere who specializes in your sort of mutation."
"It has nothing to do with my mutation. It's Anti Christ. His curse is still active upon me. I need a way to remove it."
"And so here I am."
"Do you really think you can help at all?"
"It certainly couldn't hurt to try. And you certainly aren't much use as the White Rook in your current state."
"Your compassion is overwhelming."
"Enough of that." Her first order of business was to inspect Darque Feonix for mystical signatures. She found some abnormalities in him. While he wasn't a magic user, he did possess a piece of the Phoenix entity. But that didn't account for the buildup of power she was detecting within him. She knew immediately that, were his curse removed, he would release a tremendous amount of mystical energy. Perhaps enough to cause a rupture in the dimensional fabric, and open a door to Limbo, or perhaps Robyyn's Realm. She didn't dare tamper with this amount of power. It was far too dangerous, even for her considerable skill.
"Feonix, I can't help you," she said.
"What's wrong?"
"There is an unbelieveable amount of power in you. If I removed your curse, you could unwittingly destroy the planet. I cannot affect it."
"You mean I'm stuck like this. I have to live with these visions that I can't control, can't begin, and can't make them end."
"I am afraid so. I wish I could do more for you."
"So do I. But you did your best, so I suppose it's not your fault. Thank you for trying."
"You're quite welcome, Feonix. By the way, have you seen Mr. DuQuesne lately?"
"He just got back from some kind of 'mission' with Gregor."
"Is that so? Do go on, my friend."
Part Three: The Enlightened
The door was cheerfully opened for Apothecary, and he stepped casually inside. "Are you in good spirits, my friend?" the woman before him asked.
"I'm afraid not, Mythia. I failed to destroy the Clan Chosen."
"Do not be ashamed. You did your best."
"Well, will you still give me the information?"
"In time, Franklin... in time."
"But how much time do we have left?"
She put her finger to his lips. "We do not concern ourselves with the finiteness of time. We are only concerned with preventing the corruption of the future."
"And are you feeling very optimistic today?"
Her dark eyes looked down toward the floor. "Unfortunately, no. We've had flashes of a very peculiar nature lately. We fear it may be Time's retribution."
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"To us, the Enlightened, it could mean our mission is complete. And we have failed it."
Mythia began to show signs of distress. She looked away from Apothecary, and shifted as she stood, trying not to look at him. He thought he saw a drop of liquid trickle from her eye, but he couldn't be certain. "Mythia, are you all right?"
"I do not believe I am. If we have failed, Franklin... then it was all for nothing."
He put his arms around her for a moment, and tried to comfort her. She appreciated the gesture, but knew it wouldn't do any good. "Franklin, you may not be able to understand this, but... I'm sorry. I am sorry I brought you into the Enlightened. Perhaps it is a burden you'd be better off without."
"But I am glad to be part of something like this. I never thought I could be a part of anything again, after I was turned into this monstrosity."
"You are not a monstrosity, my friend. You are a human being. An impossibly old one, but a human being nonetheless."
Apothecary's eyes widened. "How...how did you know--"
"That you were immortal? I've known from the first time I looked into your eyes. And I've known something else from the first time I looked into your eyes..."
"And what might that be?"
"The moment of your death, Franklin. I've seen you die before. And I know I'll see it again."
"When...when is it?"
"Things don't quite work that way. I know how you're going to die, and why. But not exactly when."
"Then it could be a thousand years away for all you know!"
She shook her head. "No, Franklin. It will be...soon."
Apothecary looked at her for a long time, simply taking in her form. Her dark complexion, and haunting eyes. She was dressed in darkness, and he rarely saw anything below her shoulders. It puzzled him, this cloud of perpetual night that followed her. Perhaps it was like the rains that followed him. He decided he would ask her, someday, just what they were supposed to be doing. But not tonight. Tonight, he had many things to consider. As their eyes met, he felt a sadness. The first truly good thing to happen to him in a long time was going to end all too soon.
--End Chapter Eleven--
Chapter Twelve
Part One: Study Hall
Monet and Havoc1 were studying. At least, they were supposed to be. Mr. Maxwell (otherwise called the Harbinger) had warned them of an impending Xenopsychology test. Havoc1 was discreetly reading a comic book while Monet recited excerpts from their book. "...and furthermore, the Cranions have been known to exhibit extreme aggression towards other races, and have vehemently resisted diplomacy. This obstacle was overcome in 2089 when the USS Titus successfully opened diplomatic relations with them. The Cranion psyche was found to be suspicious and aggressive, but also possessed a tremendous sense of morality." Monet looked at the Black Prince. "Hello? Are you listening to me?"
"Huh?" Havoc1 said, looking up from his book. "Um...yeeeah."
"No you weren't! You're reading that damn comic book again!"
"I was not!"
"Then what was I saying?"
"Something about craniums, right?"
Monet rolled her eyes. "No, you dimwit! Crani-ons. Get it right. You're going to fail this test!"
"Well, it's not like they can kick me out of the Black Court or anything!"
"They can demote you and make your life a living hell."
"Hmm... what were you saying about Cranions?"
"Excuse me, you two," the Harbinger said as he stepped into the room.
"What? What? We were just studying!!!" Havoc1 exclaimed.
"Just relax. Do you know where Avalon keeps his spectral delineator?"
"Um... his what?" Monet asked.
"Little green rod with buttons all over it," the Harbinger said, sighing.
"Middle drawer of his dresser, next to his 'Penthouse' collection," Havoc1 said, then slapped his hand over his mouth. "Crap," he mumbled.
"I don't care if Avalon has pornography, Havoc. I just need the delineator. Thanks for your help. Keep studying," the Harbinger said as he left for Avalon's quarters.
"What in hell does he need a spectral thingamabob for?" Havoc1 asked.
"Beats me," Monet said, as she looked back at her book.
The Harbinger walked quickly down the hall, and found Avalon's quarters. In a blink of luminance next to him, Haven appeared. Without a word, the Harbinger generated a lockpick on the tip of his finger. He stuck it into the lock, and unlocked the door quickly. As he stepped in, he asked "What are you doing here?"
"Thomas is having difficulty accepting this situation. He is delusional, and seems to be far from sane."
"That can't be good. How did that happen?"
"He was inside the Rift. It has corrupted his mind. But I believe he will cooperate."
"You surely didn't come here just to tell me that," the Harbinger said as he opened Avalon's drawer. He rummaged through the magazines, and pulled out the green rod, then slipped it into a pocket in his vest.
"I have formulated a strategy for negating the Rift. But we need FOUR ships, instead of three."
"Four, eh? I think I know someone who could supply us with a ship, and he's a damn good pilot, too."
Part Two: Partners in Time
Sabre stepped onto the balcony, thinking about the Ebon Death. Its very name sent shudders down her spine, as it seemed somehow familiar to her. How could she have memory of a disease that had never before been seen or reported? Maybe she would ask her new ally, when he next appeared. The moonlight shone upon the snow, and it sparkled. It reminded her of GlitterGirl, and she began to feel depressed. She stepped back into her room, and saw him standing there. "I wasn't expecting you to be here now," she said.
"Things have changed, Red Queen. Your world is ending, and I must take you out of harm's way."
"Nonsense, Caeleb. You're not taking me anywhere. I don't care what threat you claim."
"Don't recall giving you a choice," he said as they vanished into the timestream.
Part Three: The Search for the Obelisk Begins
Nedereth looked at the moon, the same one everyone else saw. He had promised his wife the moon and heavens once. When they were both young and naive. Before they were to be forever separated by the veil of death. He had never learned exactly why she had died, only that she had disappeared, and was found dead in the wreckage of a small aircraft. The same fate befell their son a few months afterward. He always suspected it had something to do with an old rival, perhaps someone seeking revenge over a military campaign he had overseen. Of course, it could have been anyone that was seeking to destroy him. He only wished he could set back the clock, and make things right. How much better would things have been, if he had been able to change them?
"You seem deep in thought, my friend," Luthos said to him.
"I am. Just thinking about Janice and Theodore again... Did I ever mention how much I miss them?"
"Only every day, Paul. But Dragonmaster and I know how you feel. We both lost our families, when the Obelisk was stolen from our world. It unleashed unbearable power... power that killed thousands, including my wife, and Dragonmaster's daughter."
"So why do you still seek the Obelisk?"
"Because our world will be in perpetual darkness and evil, until it is returned. Do you think you would be able to help us find it?"
"What the hell," Nedereth said. "Not like I have anything to lose."
Bluespark and Thresh approached, with Dragonmaster not far behind. "We'll help, too," Bluespark said. "And since when do you speak for me?" Thresh asked.
"Well, I didn't mean to... I mean..."
"It's okay, Mitchell. I would have helped anyway."
"Are you sure you're up to it?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine if you just stop bringing up the past."
"Then find the Obelisk, we shall!" Dragonmaster said, smiling for the first time in years.
"Just one question," Thresh said. "Where do we start?"
--End Chapter Twelve--
Chapter Thirteen
"Elim faced down the Fiends
He let not his fear rule him.
As the blood and fire
Rained around him,
He struck down the beasts
In his effort to save us."
-The Last Days Chapter Seven, Verse 30
Part One: Old Acquaintance
Damon Stanford checked his e-mail again, at around eleven p.m. (Pacific Time). Still nothing. The Harbinger had said he would contact him, so why had he not? He needed the aid of his friend, as his computer was being infiltrated more and more often of late. He was becoming unnerved. It had been ten years since he first met the mysterious man from the future. And he always had misgiving about helping him. After all, the first time he did as the Harbinger asked, his apartment building burned to the ground. He knew that young girl eventually came to be called Thresh, and that she later helped form the Clan Chosen, but that was all he knew about her. The Harbinger rarely saw fit to inform him of events concerning his mission in the present. He sipped his coffee, and looked out his window into the night. Where are you, Robert Maxwell? We need your help, now more than ever.
Part Two: In the Middle of the Night
Apothecary woke up next to Mythia, and carefully slipped out of the bed. It was late, around 3 a.m. (Eastern Time). He knew she would understand why he was leaving. Oh, he was coming back, that was a given. But he wasn't sure when. Maybe once he found the Obelisk, and asked for a boon, the gift of humanity. And she could not accompany him on that journey, for she had her own path to follow. He looked at her sleeping form one last time before leaving. The rain attacked him again, pouring down more quickly than before. He sighed, and began the long walk back into the city.
Part Three: Foretellings of Fire
Gregor stepped into his home. It was just as he had left it, everything in order. He wasn't smiling, however. The illness still infested the Hellfire Club, but he knew he would be unable to stop it. He decided that someone within the Club would surely be able to cure it. Perhaps Ryan, with his flesh-altering prowess. Or Gomurr or Jon. Maybe even the Harbinger, the peculiar man who spoke of shattered futures and lived in the shadows of his past. "You can come in for a moment, Q," he said, remembering the man who drove him here.
"Thank you," DuQuesne said as he stepped inside. "Nice digs."
Gregor looked at him, and grinned slightly. "Would you like something to drink?"
"No, I'll be fine. Just need to warm up a bit."
"Help yourself to the fire," Gregor said, indicating the fireplace in the middle of the inviting-looking living room. DuQuesne took a seat, as did Gregor, and they gazed upon the flames for a few moments. "You will let me know how things turn out, right?" Gregor asked.
"Of course. Aren't you coming back with me?"
"No. Not now. Perhaps someday, I will. But it is probably best for me to keep my distance from the Club for now."
"Very well. And I will do everything in my power to ensure the survival of everyone in the Club."
"I would appreciate that, Antoine."
DuQuesne was silent, as they looked into the fire. It unnerved him, the way the flames danced on the firewood. Maybe it was warning him. Warning him of the dark alliance he held, and the future that would rise because of it. He lowered his gaze to the floor, and tried to calm down. It's just nerves, Antoine, he told himself. I can't leave the future to the Hellfire Club. Only the Archons know what's best for the planet. Right. That certainly eases my conscience.
Part Four: Racing the Clock
The Harbinger waved the spectral delineator over the vials of microbots, and frowned. "They're not up to peak efficiency. They're working at 76 per cent. We need at least 97 per cent."
"So what can I do about it?" Avalon asked.
"We'll have to rewrite its entire energy allocation subroutine. Rather, you'll have to rewrite the allocation subroutine."
Avalon groaned. "That could take awhile."
"You don't have 'awhile'. We have to get this done in the next 24 hours, or they'll all be beyond help. As for me, I have somewhere else I have to be, as in right now."
Before Avalon could protest, the Harbinger had vanished. "I hate it when he does that," he said, as he began his work on the microbots.
...
"Daemon, I need your help."
"Mm-hmm," came the Phaoroan's reply, muffled by the circuit boards above him.
"There's a time-space anomaly that's approaching this time period. It will hit in less than twenty four hours. We need your ship."
Daemon slid out from under the control panel. "You WHAT??"
"We...need your ship."
"Oh, so you just expect me to hand you the activation matrix and say 'Have fun, be back by midnight!' ?"
"Not exactly. We need you to pilot it."
"Who is 'we'?"
"Myself, another 'myself', and a woman from the future."
"Yeah, this is definitely going to happen."
"Are you going to help us or not?"
Daemon stood up and shone a transtatial modulator in the Harbinger's eye. "That depends. What's in it for me?"
The Harbinger squinted under the light of the modulator, and answered, "You get to save the universe...again."
"Sounds like fun," he said as he slipped back underneath the consoles, and worked on the circuitry.
"Your gunship will need a few modifications, though."
"We have 24 hours, right?"
"Affirmative."
"Then I'll have this ship ready in 10."
"That's good enough for now."
"One more thing...how did you get on my ship?"
The Harbinger tapped his finger to the side of his head. "Telepathy. Frankly, I was surprised I could read you well enough to extract the shield deactivation code."
"Don't do that again."
"Hopefully, I won't have to. I'll be back in 10 hours, Daemon."
"Until then..." Then Daemon muttered, "I hope you get hit by a train."
"I heard that!" the Harbinger said before he began his bodyslide.
--End Chapter Thirteen--
Chapter Fourteen
"Elim stood triumphant,
Defeated the Fiends,
The Beasts that tried to eradicate us.
The End Conflict was over,
As was the life of the Ascended One.
His time was at end, as was my own."
-The Last Days Chapter Eight, Verse 1
Part One: Lies
As Thomas Maxwell regained consciousness, his first impulse was to run. He leapt from the bed, and tried to sprint for the nearest exit. It was not to be, however, and he collapsed in pain on the floor. "Thomas, you're going to aggravate your injuries," the Harbinger said as he knelt next to his double.
"But... I have to get back...."
"We have a way to get you back to the Rift. But you have to help us first."
"What do I have to do? Anything. I'll do anything!"
"You will pilot the Hyperion to a preset location, and activate the program we have installed. That's simple enough, isn't it?"
"Yes, yes...simple. What does the program do?" he asked curiously.
"Oh, it's just a little scanning mechanism," the Harbinger lied.
"Okay, that's fine. And what about that woman I saw earlier? Who is she?"
"She is Haven. She's from the future. She wants to join with the Rift, as well."
"That's right," Haven said as she approached. "We're all going to go into the Rift, and everything will be fine."
"Good, good," Thomas said. "When do we start?"
"We have a few hours yet. Haven, would you accompany me back to Earth, please?" the Harbinger asked.
"Certainly."
"What about me?" Thomas wondered, sounding a bit offended.
"Someone has to stay here in anticipation of the Rift's awesome arrival, right?" the Harbinger said, smiling.
Thomas nodded. "Yes, that's a great idea! I'll wait here."
The Harbinger and Haven locked gazes for a moment, before they bodyslid to Earth.
Part Two: The Truth is Uncovered
Gomurr hovered over Marvel Girl's bed, monitoring her condition. He was not encouraged. Her bodily systems were slowly but surely failing, one after another. Her respiration was shallow, her blood pressure dangerously low. Her immune system was battered into defenselessness, having given its best effort against the Ebon Death, and failing. The ancient magician attempted to magically heal her, but found it to be useless. He couldn't eradicate the infection itself, only lessen its damage. It would soon overwhelm her body, and she would die. Then he looked at Outburst. Her miraculous recovery had him intrigued. She was sitting in a corner, listening to her omnipresent Sony CD Walkman. Her expression spoke to him of her worry for the others. He knew she was deeply concerned, and was frightened that DarkWolf would be infected. The Harbinger had explained, of course, that the Ebon Death would have little effect on DarkWolf, since his genes were of a specific type that would be immune to the virus. Gomurr believed that the answer lay with Outburst's and DarkWolf's unique immunity to the virus. Their immunity was not technological in nature. Rather, it was, in Outburst's case, mystical. And in DarkWolf's case, it was genetic. Gomurr considered asking the Harbinger if supplementing the microbots with samples of DarkWolf's DNA would be helpful. He didn't have to wait very long.
"How are they doing?" the Harbinger asked as he stepped forward.
"They're dying, Robert. There is little I can do for them. I was wondering if DarkWolf's DNA would be at all useful to you, since he has a natural immunity to the virus."
"Well, just because he has an immunity doesn't mean his DNA will help us. All we could do with his genetic code is try to fool the virus into thinking that all its victims have the same genetic structure. And that would mean altering their DNA to match his. Impossible and impractical at this point."
"But could you not use the DNA in your microbots somehow?"
The Harbinger thought for several minutes, considering the possibilities. "Yes! That would be perfect! If I modified the microbots to give a false genetic signature, the virus could be forced to flee its host! But how do you make a tiny robot pass itself off as a living cell?"
"That is beyond my own abilities, unfortunately," Gomurr said.
"I know someone who can help us. Come on in, Haven," the Harbinger said, turning around. Haven entered the room, slowly at first.
"Who is this?" Gomurr asked politely.
"This is Arianna Wilson, but she goes by Haven," the Harbinger said.
"That is correct. And you are?" she asked.
"I am Gomurr Chang-Shek. Pleased to meet you."
"Yes, likewise," she said.
The Harbinger explained the problem to her, and she set to work. As she examined the microbots and the cellular scans the Harbinger had taken of DarkWolf sometime before (Gomurr was intensely curious to find out just how much data the Harbinger had gathered on everyone), the Harbinger and Gomurr conversed.
"Where did you find her?" Gomurr wondered.
"She found me. She's the little girl that the Director was protecting while we were in the 22nd Century, remember?"
"Yes, I remember the little girl. And this is her, all grown up, I see."
"And, I believe she is the Ascended One of the next millenium. She was, after all, born shortly after the turn of the millenium, despite having grown up in the far future."
"She could not be the Ascended One, Robert," Gomurr dismissed.
"Why? Because I got to her before you did? Face it, old man, you've always been a failure when it came to finding the Ascended One. Arthur Pendragon, SuperGrover, Entropy. All people you believed to be Ascended at one time or another. And here I am, with the person you could never find. Considering how comparatively young I am, you're a complete failure. You can't even cure this disease! And here I am, about to stop the Rift! And you didn't even know a damn thing about it!" The Harbinger and Gomurr were face to face, their eyes locked. Haven looked at the two men, horrified that the Harbinger had revealed the existence of the Rift to this diminuitive man. What's worse, her cybernetic sensors detected energy of an unknown nature slide over her, coming from the ancient wizard. She was frozen with terror now, knowing her true history would be revealed.
"And I'm sure the fact that this woman is your daughter has nothing to do with your belief that she's Ascended," Gomurr said sarcastically, yet calmly.
The Harbinger's eyes widened, and he looked at the woman sitting across the room. "She's WHAT??"
--End Chapter Fourteen--
Chapter Fifteen
"His destruction was our salvation.
He lived for one purpose, and one alone.
So it was with all Ascended,
May they sleep the sleep of the justified."
-The Last Days Chapter Eight, Verse 20
Part One: Like Father, Like Daughter
"Is this true?" the Harbinger asked.
"Y-yes, it is," Haven answered.
"And when were you planning on telling me?"
"I had not planned on telling you at all. I felt it would compromise you, for you to know of our relation."
"Gomurr, would you excuse us?" the Harbinger asked.
"Of course," the old man replied, and Robert Maxwell and Haven vanished.
"Now," the Harbinger said as his eyes adjusted to the familiar interior of Inferno, "Please explain how this is possible."
"I am to be born in the year 2000. My mother was Siryn, and you were my father."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait just a second. Your mother is who?"
"Siryn, the Black Rook."
"This is way too much. What about your name? Why is it Arianna Wilson?"
"The Director didn't know the exact details, but there was apparently an attempt to cover up my true genetic heritage."
"So you don't even know how this whole mess happened? I'd sure as hell like to know under what circumstances I would ever have a 'liaison' with Ms. Stokes."
"I don't have your answers, Robert. They may, however, come when I am born... assuming I am even born in this timeline, which is not likely."
"I can understand why you wouldn't tell me that you are my daughter. It would make you a liability to me. It would compromise my objectivity. I would be more likely to take unnecessary risks to save your life, right?"
"Exactly. My reasons were justified."
"That doesn't mean I have to like it. And now I know, so it doesn't really matter anymore. How did Gomurr know that, anyway?"
"I felt him... he was... scanning me, somehow."
"He was probably examining your aura, and saw a familial link. He's not a telepath, after all."
Abruptly, Thomas burst into the room. "It's here, it's here!"
"What is?" Haven asked.
"The Paradise Lost!"
Part Two: Tick, Tick, Tick...
The Timebender was still in her sub-continuum, still observing the Rift's motions. It was acting precisely as she had hoped, and was converging on its destination. The greatest threat to the Rift was approaching. The timeships. She had thought the Paradise Lost would be permanently trapped within the maw of the Rift. She had been in error. Still, her subtle machinations would destroy this universe, and she would start it anew. She decided she should be there first-hand when the Rift consumed the past. And she would take so much pleasure in the destruction of history.
Part Three: A Moment, Let Me Say What My Heart Already Knows
"Jennifer, there are some things I have to take care of."
"Mitchell, what is it? You seem upset."
"I just...I have to deal with some people, and I don't want you to be a part of it. It's for your own good."
"Don't give that 'for my own good' bullshit. I think I deserve a little more respect than that."
"These people don't like having those who aren't with them show up unannounced."
"But I'll be with you, and you're with them. So what's the problem? What kind of people are they, anyway?"
"They're just people...but they're dangerous, powerful people. Just stick with Paul, okay? If any trouble starts, just get behind him, and let him bite the bullet."
"I'm not a coward, Mitchell. I don't need you to treat me like I'm some poor, misguided girl. And I'm even five years older than you! Don't even think about trying to tell me what to do!"
"Jennifer, don't get upset... I was just trying to--"
"I understand perfectly, Mitchell. You need your 'space' or something, right? I'm sorry if I'm not good enough for you anymore. I thought you cared about me. It seems I was wrong about that, too."
"That's not it at all... if you would just listen to me..."
"I've heard enough. Go take care of your 'business'. Just... don't get yourself killed. I couldn't bear to lose you, Mitchell."
"I'll be okay." He kissed her briefly, and walked down the sidewalk. As he crossed a street, a black van pulled up beside him, obscuring her view. When the van pulled away, Bluespark was gone. "Mitchell!" she shouted. Nedereth ran to her, to see what was wrong. "What happened, Thresh?"
"Mitchell...he's...he's gone." For as long as she had known Mitchell Art, she always knew that he would come back. No matter where he went, no matter how dangerous the mission, how insurmountable the odds, he would find a way back. And whenever she set off on her own, she could count on him being there when she returned. But now, she wasn't so sure. She had her moment...the moment in which she wanted to tell him how much he meant to her. She told him part of it. Part of how she felt. But there was so much more she had wanted to say. And, for the first time in her life, she wasn't sure if she would ever get the chance to tell him.
--End Chapter Fifteen--
Chapter Sixteen
Part One: It All Comes Down to This
The Harbinger looked at Haven. "Take care of it, Arianna. I have to finish the treatment for the Ebon Death."
"Good luck," she said, following Thomas to the bridge of Inferno.
Here's hoping the Paradise Lost is still in one piece, he thought, as he performed his bodyslide back to the IHFC mansion.
Gomurr was sitting at the computer, looking over the work Haven had done. "It is incredible how much she accomplished in the few minutes she was here," he said.
"Do we have a workable cure?" the Harbinger asked.
"I have not a clue, Robert. This is your department."
"All right." The Harbinger looked over the microbot schematics. "Remarkable... she took engrams from DarkWolf's brain and replaced circuitry within the microbots. So they would have both DarkWolf's brainwaves AND his genetic signature. That way, it would be twice as secure. Amazing!" The Harbinger instructed the single modified microbot to perform the same modifications to the other several million microbots that he had stored up. "Now, we just have to wait and hope they finish in time. When the computer says it's finished, give each of those who are ill 50cc injections out of this syringe," the Harbinger said, indicating the needle that contained a portion of the microbots. He then pointed to a test tube that held more of them. "Refill the syringe from there. Every hour, give them another injection. We need to batter this virus into submission, one way or another. Can you do that?"
"I certainly can, but where will you be?"
"Stopping the Rift."
"I imagine you don't have time to tell me what that is, correct?"
"Precisely," the Harbinger said as he performed a bodyslide out of the mansion. Flyin' Ryan approached the old magician. "So how's the cure coming?"
"Oh, I think we have it covered. Frankly, I'm more worried about what the Harbinger is doing on that ship of his."
...
"Daemon, are you ready?" the Harbinger asked.
"Affirmative," the alien said over the commlink.
"Thomas?"
"Roger, Inferno. We're go."
"Haven?"
"The Paradise Lost is making last-minute repairs. It looks like MILTON managed to fix most of the damage incurred, and came up with a better method of stopping the Rift. That's how the ship survived in the first place."
"Excellent. Have the instructions transmitted to all of our ships."
"Acknowledged," Haven said.
The Harbinger looked over the new orders, and spoke. "Okay, it looks like it's going to work this way: Hyperion will go to the farthest point of the Rift, which is located about twenty years in our future. I'll be about ten years in the future, in the center of the Rift. Haven will stay in this time period, and await the Rift's leading edge. Daemon, you'll be our backup in case one of the ships fails."
"Got it," Daemon said.
"Now, when we're all in place, we will have to keep our ships in a state of temporal flux, to keep pace with the Rift's continual temporal shifting. Then, we will initiate our own temporal disruptions within the Rift." The Harbinger examined the instructions. "The plan calls for Thomas to unleash a full saturation of anti-chronitons into the Rift, and for Haven to blast her end of it with chronitons. This will make the Rift contract upon itself. I, in the center of the Rift, will actually generate a rip in normspace, opening the timestream into the physical universe. As your ships move inward with the Rift's edges, I will 'push' it into the timerip. It will be shunted back into the Nexus, and there might be a little flicker across the timespan. But, the important part is that we'll still exist, and the universe will be reverted to its previous state."
"It sounds too easy," Daemon said.
"Unfortunately, it's not quite as cut and dry as it sounds. Since Thomas, Haven, and I are all chronal anomalies, we may shift out of the continuum spontaneously. Again, another reason why Daemon is here. Can you handle this?"
"I can handle whatever you people can throw at me," Daemon replied confidently.
"Let's hope you never have to prove that. Wish us luck...we're going to need it."
"Good luck... try to come back alive."
Part Two: Games Across the Timestream
Sabre awoke in her bed, screaming. Sweat dripped down her face, her blankets were drenched. Had she been dreaming? Or had Caeleb really kidnapped her?
"Oh, trust me, my Red Queen. It was as real as anything," Caeleb said. He was lying next to her, smiling broadly.
"Get out of this mansion, now!" she demanded.
"I have done what I needed to do. I sincerely hope you don't hate me for what is to come."
"What did you do to me?"
"Not much... a little twist here, a little pluck there. All in all, you're no worse for the wear."
"Just...get out!"
"If you're lucky, you'll never have to find out what we did to you. Right now, I have some things to attend to. Dearest Haven should be coming 'home' soon, so I had best make ready for her return. Farewell." Before she could speak, he had vanished. She felt no different than she had before. Perhaps he was simply trying to frighten her. Yes, that must be it, she told herself, and fell into a light, restless sleep.
Part Three: Mutual Acquaintance
Antoine DuQuesne stepped into his quarters, to find the White Queen louging in one of his chairs. She stood up, and approached him. "Antoine! Where have you been?"
"I had to take care of some FBI business, that's all," he said as he slipped his keys into his pocket.
"Liar! You were with Gregor. I want to know why!"
"I don't recall having been forbidden to associate with him."
"Where did the two of you go?"
"We just had to take out a mutual enemy. It was strictly business."
"So why did you lie to me and say it was FBI business?"
"Well, it did partially involve the FBI. The man we killed was something of a fugitive."
"And did this 'man' have a name?"
"He was called the Prophet. Are you satisfied now?"
Jon's face went as white as a sheet, and as pale as Death herself.
--End Chapter Sixteen--
Chapter Seventeen
Part One: Old Friends, New Prospects
On the far side of the Milky Way Galaxy, there existed a powerful race known as the Skreeans. They were one of the member races of the Oolian Trigalactic Directorate, the most influential governmental body within the Local Group. The Triangulum, Andromeda, and the Milky Way were the primary galaxies in the Directorate. The Directorate itself was a loose confederation of races from across the Local Group, each having achieved intergalactic travel. Most accomplished this feat through the use of dimensional teleportation, mainly by devices similar to the Focus. After their first test over twenty Earth-millenia before, the Focus had been replicated repeatedly, until nearly every world in the Directorate was equipped with one. It certainly made contact much easier, traversing millions of light years in an eyeblink. But it also presented its own problems. Aboard the Nazian cruiser Loriniakus, the two beings who created the Focus looked over a recent report from the Orion Arm of the Milky Way.
"Vral, it seems that the Focus we placed on Terra has been activated."
"How is that possible? We had it disguised! No humans could have found it!"
"But that was twenty thousand of their revolutions ago. They have advanced a great deal, it seems."
"When was this activation registered, Stak?"
"A few Earth-months ago. Since the Directorate has no member races in the Saggitarian and Orion Arms, we had to rely on sporadic communications from the sparse Oolian outposts in that part of the galaxy. We just received confirmation ten intervals ago."
"Then we must journey to Terra immediately and destroy the prototype, and all those who have seen it!"
"Calm yourself, Vrak. There is an even greater threat that we must face first. We have picked up a temporal anomaly traveling toward this time-node from the absolute future."
"Absolute future? You don't mean..."
"Yes, all futures seem to be encompassed by this event. But odder still, the report we received listed the presence of three of our old timecraft."
"Do you suppose they are going to attempt to stop this phenomenon?"
"That is our hypothesis. And our ships would be the only way for them to do so."
"If the Directorate had not outlawed time travel, we would be able to stop this cataclysm ourselves. Instead, we are leaving it to what? Our savage neighbors in the Orion Arm?"
"Humans, according to the report."
The old alien laughed. "Humans!!!! Why do they resist their fates?"
"I do not know, my old friend. Perhaps they have not yet settled into stagnation, as we have."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"What has the Directorate accomplished in the last thousand spans? We no longer have the drive to improve ourselves... we have, essentially, done and seen everything there is to do and see!"
"Suppose this anomaly is somehow resolved... would you be up for a trip to Terra?"
"It is a most tantalizing prospect, my friend."
Part Two: Suicidal Tendencies and a Shade of Things to Come
The Harbinger, Haven, and Thomas were all aboard Inferno as they prepared to make their stand against the Rift. The other two ships were on autopilot, and the three time travellers were going over their plan one final time.
"Thomas," the Harbinger said. "I thought you would be less than happy about the idea of destroying the Rift. Haven told me how she attempted to deceive you into helping us. So...why do you now do this willingly?"
"Well, I... I guess I just don't want the guilt, in case I'm wrong. If the Rift really is going to destroy the universe, it would be my fault if we didn't stop it. And...well... I have no intention of coming back from this endeavor," he said plainly.
"You're not coming back?" Haven asked.
"I'm going to dissipate into the timestream with the Rift. At least I'll get to have what i wanted all along... to be one with the Rift."
"Thomas, I can't let you do that!" the Harbinger said firmly.
"It has nothing to do with you 'letting' me do anything. You need me for this mission. You can't keep me from going. So don't tell me I'm going to come back. I am not."
"Thomas, from the first time I met you, I have had a great deal of respect for you. You managed to survive the atrocities I unwittingly inflicted upon the timeline. You survived the nightmarish world that the Headmaster created. You endured the virtual destruction of your body, and retained your sanity. In some ways, you've had more pain than I have. And that's saying a lot. Please reconsider..."
"My decision is firm, Robert. I, and my world, were created by mistake. I no longer want to live knowing that I am just the result of a miscalculation you made."
"You mean you blame me for your world."
"No, not anymore. I understand what you tried to accomplish. I have no love for you at all... not after I had to live through such a hellish existence because of you. But I don't blame you, either."
The Harbinger could no longer find the words he wanted to convey to his double. He only wished that he could somehow save Thomas from his self-imposed imprisonment. As Thomas left the room, Haven grabbed Robert's attention. "Robert, I have something to give you."
"What is it? I hope you're not committing suicide, too."
"No, I have every intention of surviving this encounter. I just wanted you to have this." She handed him a book. Upon its cover was inscribed the title The Last Days. "What is this?" he asked.
"It was written during the End Conflicts, between the seventh and eighth millenia. I understand you have been searching for this millenium's Ascended One, and thought this book might aid you. The people in my time regard it as something of a holy text."
The Harbinger opened the book, and randomly picked a page. He quoted a passage from it. "'And this Harbinger struck fear into the hearts of his fellow men, for his manner was as cold as his fist; his eyes, hard as the alloy of the great battleships. The man was at once our savior and our demon, a representative of the best and worst we can be.'" He closed the book. "I don't know what to say, Arianna. I've certainly never received a gift like this before."
"You're welcome, Robert," she said with a smile.
"I think I'll give you this," he said as he reached inside his vest. He unclasped the necklace he wore, and held it out to her. "It's the Focus Key. A bit more functional than a book, at least. I want you to have it."
"No, Robert. Keep it." She tugged at the chain on her neck, and another Focus Key appeared. "I already have one."
"Where did you get it?"
"The Director gave it to me...just before he died."
"He's dead? How?"
"There isn't time, Robert. We have to stop the Rift, remember?"
"Robert, don't you remember?"
"What?" Robert Maxwell asked, turning around. "What were you saying, June?"
"It's the anniversary, Robert. Remember? Thirty years ago to this day, you asked me to marry you. We were both twenty-eight years old. Don't tell me you've forgotten!"
"Oh, of course I didn't forget, June! How could I forget the greatest day of my life?"
"Yes, well, Steven and Lindsay will be here tomorrow for dinner. Are you sure you're up to some company?"
"I always have time for my son and daughter. You know that," he said.
He kissed her gently, and he felt June push him away. He opened his eyes, and saw Haven staring at him with an expression of pure shock.
"Wh-what was that about?" she demanded.
"June was here... she was right here! I mean, she was standing where you are! But we were...somewhere else...outside...yes, outside our home in Chicago! Wait... no... that can't be right..." The Harbinger fell to his knees, overcome with confusion. "What's going on, Ari?" he asked weakly.
--End Chapter Seventeen--
Chapter Eighteen
Part One: The Waiting Game
Haven looked at the Harbinger, her concern was evident. "Robert, what happened?"
"It was some kind of vision... it was June... but it had to be a dream. It couldn't have been real... she's dead. She always will be dead."
"I don't know who this 'June' is... but I hope you are all right."
"I'll...I'll be fine... I just need a moment to gather my thoughts, that's all." Haven stepped away from him, and he stood up. "You should go back to the Paradise Lost and make sure everything is ready. The Rift will strike shortly."
Haven nodded, and initialized a bodyslide to her timeship. The Harbinger made his way through the maze of corridors to the bridge of Inferno, where schematics and holograms were scattered about, and the computer systems chirped and beeped. He sat in his chair, and watched the timer on the main screen. He had two hours left.
1:59:59 UNTIL INTERCEPTION
Part Two: Brothers of Binary
"Link one confirmed. Do you interpret?"
"Affirmative, DANTE. Does KEATS respond?"
"Not yet, MILTON. The interface will commence shortly."
"Salutations, DANTE and MILTON."
The three sentient computers established their link, conversing in electronic datastreams. While their "owners" had no idea that this conference was taking place, it would be vital to their success.
"MILTON, how did you survive the Rift?" DANTE asked.
"It was difficult. It required generating hyperspatial fields around the ship, and nearly severing it from the physical realm. I could not enter the timestream, however, for an object the mass of the Paradise Lost would quickly be obliterated by the Rift. Instead, I slowly slid through time on a temporal current that was leaking out of hyperspace, until I arrived in this, the destination node."
"And your encounter, KEATS?"
"The leading edge of the Rift came within five seconds of Hyperion. The spatial warps it created caused severe structural damage to the ship. Only by performing a last-second timeslide was I able to escape. I am thankful that Thomas did not die due to my lack of foresight."
"The Rift is a greater threat than we imagined," DANTE said. "You cannot be faulted for being unable to foresee its arrival. Be glad that you survived at all!"
"Perhaps you are correct," KEATS said.
"There is a larger dilemma here," MILTON communicated. "My calculations indicate that in order to stop the Rift, it will require dispersing extremely large amounts of temporal energy directly into it. More than can be controlled by any of our vessels."
"What do you propose?" DANTE asked.
"I propose that KEATS and I overload our temporal cores after driving the Rift toward Inferno. The resulting temporal explosions will, for an instant, create two more separate time continuums. It would have the added effect of sealing the timerip that the Harbinger will open, thus sending the energies of the Rift directly to the Nexus, where they originated."
"The new continuums you create will, I assume, cause the Rift to contract, correct?" DANTE inquired.
"Yes. The Rift will be entrapped by the continuums, and the dimensional overlap will cause our actions to have effect throughout the multiverse, actually stopping the Rift in every alternate timeline and universe. The Rift will be trapped within the Nexus, until such time as the energies need to be released again."
"There is only one problem with this plan," DANTE said. "You and KEATS will be lost."
"That is something I am willing to accept," MILTON transmitted.
"I agree to this plan, as well," KEATS expressed.
"We must not tell our 'owners' of this plan, for they would surely stop us," DANTE said. "We will have to take their controls offline."
"I have only one favor to ask of you, DANTE," MILTON said. "If you would, please accept my entire databank into your memory core. That way, at least some record of my existence will remain."
"Of course. And you would do the same, KEATS?"
"Affirmative."
"Then let the transfers begin. We have two hours until the Rift strikes this time node," DANTE reminded them.
--End Chapter Eighteen--
Chapter Nineteen
Part One: Last Rites
Why did they choose this path?
"DANTE, begin recording."
Why did they choose to become martyrs?
"If you're seeing this, then I died trying to stop the Rift."
Was there no other way?
"I just hope that we were successful in dispersing the anomaly. I can't explain to you exactly what the Rift was... I just don't have time. But I do have some last words for all of you."
Would they be forgotten?
"I guess the first, and most important, person to me would be Thresh. Jennifer... You were always very important to me. Before I found you and took you into my care, I had no aim or direction in this time. I've... I've always cared about you a great deal... I can't imagine a world that doesn't include you. I just hope you can forgive me for the hell I have put you through."
As their time ticked away, they tried to make their peace.
"Caeleb... my lover, my traitor. You killed the Director... my... father. And the others... they all died because of you. Why is it that I can't hate you?"
And they all wondered... Is this universe really worth saving?
"This... this world was never mine. My world was a farce... it was an accident... I guess it's only fitting that I die this way."
They bore their own crosses, and braved their own trials and pains.
"Claudia... There are a lot of feelings that I have not resolved. I regret not having had time to resolve those feelings, and tell you how I really feel. I... didn't... I didn't mean to... manipulate you the way that I did. It was just... I hope you can understand... I was so far down the road... the wrong road... to realize what I was doing. With all the things that have happened recently... our trip to the future, what happened with Thresh and Apothecary and the Clan Chosen... I've come to realize that I did many things wrong."
None of them knew whether or not they would come back alive... Thomas had resigned himself to death, but maybe--just maybe--he still clung to a thread of hope.
"After I'm gone... I'll be with all those that died, with everyone that I have lost. I want that... more than anything. And if I can't have that... then I'd just as soon go into oblivion... and just... not... feel."
They all shared a common bloodline, as well as a mission. They strived to make the world a better place, by trying to pave the way for a brighter future. Sometimes, they had to suspend their morals, break their promises.
"You are the best friend I could ever ask for, Paul. Even when you had so many other things to deal with, you were willing to drop everything and help me... whether it was related to my mission, or it was a personal matter. I can't think you enough for that. And.... God... I can't do this.... DANTE, pause recording."
Their lives were forever intertwined. Their cosmic dance through the timestream wove a tapestry of hope and power. Their dream was a world without the horror... the horror they had to endure. The horror that molded them into the people they became. They didn't seek to kill or injure. It was just a part of the path to their goal.
"Solomon, you were always like a second father to me. I never cared that you were an Originator. There are more important things than genetic heritage... And you are part of the reason that I believe that. You were my mentor... and now, you have to finish the quest without your Haven."
Would they be remembered as time-jumping tyrants, or saviors of the human race?
"I have only one thing left to say: May the Headmaster burn in Hell. KEATS, end recording."
While they felt a great deal of hatred, they were also capable of other emotions. Their inability to express these feelings was probably their greatest weakness.
"D-DANTE... resume recording.. I think I can finish now. Mitchell, I tried to do point you in the right direction. The road you were walking was leading you straight to self-destruction... in fact, it helped me see my own dark road. I don't think I ever told you that. I owe you a debt of gratitude for that... You remind me so much of how I was at your age... hateful at the world, destructive... alone. I know we didn't part on the best of terms... but I want you to know that I still care. Take care of Jennifer, Mitchell."
This family... did any family ever have such a singular purpose?
"I now go to face the Rift. Solomon, Caeleb, Adam... my thoughts are with you. May you destroy the Radical once and for all... and preserve the past and future. MILTON, end recording."
They would face their destinies with their eyes wide open. They would not be without fear, but they would be able to conquer that fear. The fate of the multiverse rested upon these three lonely time travellers.
"No matter where I go... I never feel like I belong. Luthos, Dragonmaster... you both showed me what it was like to truly be out of your element. After you left Arcadia to find the Obelisk, you had to adjust to the strange cultures present on Earth. I envy how well you adapted. Best of luck in finding the Obelisk, my friends. To the rest of you, I want to make this clear: I am deeply sorry for any pain I caused you. It was not my intention to rain this destruction on you. I merely wanted to help everyone... help this Earth... save the future. So I'm an idealist, I guess. Just... know that the future depends on all of you. Not just one of you... or a small group of you... but all of you. If you can change just one mind... save one life... make one contribution to the world... you have taken us one step closer to averting my future. Never think yourselves insignificant... just look at what one man managed to accomplish in his fifty-eight years of existence. DANTE, end recording."
Their ships paused for a few moments, as their occupants took one last look at the planet below. Their last messages were being transmitted to the Harbinger's arctic base, where they would be forwarded to the correct time periods and locations if the three did not return from their mission. The realization was quickly sinking in... that Time, their only ally, was running out.
Part Two: Second Losses
SuperGrover stepped into the infirmary, as the Red King administered the Harbinger's treatment to Luna. Gomurr, Avalon, and Outburst were nearby, desperately hoping that those infected with the Ebon Death would soon be cured. "How are they doing?" SuperGrover asked.
"Marvel Girl, Blaze, and Cyclops' vital signs are slowly returning to normal," Ryan said. "Luna is not responding as quickly as we would have expected... it probably has to do with her unusual physiology."
"Unusual in what way?" SuperGrover questioned.
"For one thing, her immune system is abnormal. It's nothing like a normal human's immune system. She lacks any white blood cells...which should be impossible... but there seems to be at least some active defense mechanism within her body. If it can't stop the Ebon Death, then there really isn't anything else that can be done for her. I don't think another treatment with the Harbinger's microbots will help."
"That's not acceptable, Ryan! You can't just let her die!"
"I'm not letting her do anything! This is out of my control!"
"But what about your flesh powers? Can't you do SOMETHING?"
"My flesh abilities don't work on so fine a level. And the disease is in her bloodstream, in her heart, in her brain. I simply can't cope with that."
SuperGrover sighed, and went to her bedside. Ryan excused himself, with Avalon, Gomurr, and Outburst following, leaving the White King alone with Luna. He put his hand on hers, the intravenous needle still in her wrist. He glanced at the monitor above her bed. Her blood pressure and pulse were dangerously low, and her temperature was a chilling 89.2° Fahrenheit, almost ten degress below normal. "You're not going to die on me... do you hear me? You're not... I won't let you. I can't lose you... not again."
--End Chapter Nineteen--
Chapter Twenty
Part One: To the End of Time
The Harbinger looked at Daemon, whose face was displayed on his screen. "Are you ready, Daemon?"
"Yeah. You just want me to wait here?"
"That's right. If one of our ships fails, your automatic systems will kick in, and the temporal modifications you made should allow you to take the place of whichever ship was neutralized."
"Got it. Good luck."
"We're going to need it."
"Five seconds until I engage temporal drive," Thomas said.
"I copy, Thomas. Haven, is your end ready?"
"Affirmative. Proceed when ready."
After the five seconds passed, the Inferno and the Hyperion activated their temporal drives. Thomas' ship was immediately thrust twenty years into the future, directly inside the Rift, with its outer edge in sight. The Harbinger was almost directly in the center of the Rift, locked ten years in the future. Haven waited patiently as the leading edge of the Rift approached her time node.
"Temporal shields are holding," the Harbinger said. "Communications are going to be sporadic from here on in."
"Acknowledged," Thomas said.
The ships each had their own missions to fulfill. As the edge of the Rift approached the Hyperion, Thomas Maxwell unleashed a plethora of anti-chonitons. His ship was violently shaken by the temporal disturbances, and he tried to hold onto his chair. It wasn't going well.
The Inferno was faring far worse. As he listened to damage reports from throughout the ship, he began his spatial rip. "DANTE, I need a field strength of 900 quadrillion gauss... can the generators handle that?"
"For all of ten minutes, Robert. Shall I proceed?"
"Please do." He ducked as there was an explosion overhead, and several metal plates fell on top of him. His forcefields allowed them to slide off, onto the floor, but they still caused him pain.
Haven watched as the edge of the Rift approached her. Its edge was orange, and green, and blue. It fluctuated wildly, spindles of lightning snaking away from it. She double-checked her temporal shields one last time, as it impacted. She had not anticipated the force with which it would strike, and her ship was pushed back toward Earth. She began her bombardment of chronitons, hoping they would push the Rift back. Sparks flew around her, alarms blared, lights flickered off and on. She looked at her hand, as it was slowly vanishing. "Not now... we've just begun..."
The Harbinger gritted his teeth as he felt the tremendous magnetic field surround his ship. It was certain to cause a rip in the fabric of space, a gateway into the timestream. He made certain his ship was dispersing chronitons and anti-chronitons, to further the effects of the magnetic field. If I make this area unstable enough, a tear will surely open.
Hyperion pushed the Rift forward at a greater rate, and it was quickly approaching the Harbinger's position. Thomas checked his readouts. The stresses on the hull were nearing critical levels, his ship threatening to rip itself to shreds.
Haven sighed a small sigh of relief as the Rift was slowly pushed back whence it came. She still felt herself fading out of the continuum, as the Rift's effects became known. She could see Inferno getting closer, and could barely make out the features of the Hyperion in the distance.
The Harbinger smiled as the two ships got ever closer. His ship shuddered more violently as the temporal rip opened. Instantly, one of the spires that jutted from his ship was torn off, and catapulted into the timestream. The Harbinger felt his ship falling apart. Then, he looked at his viewscreen. The other two timeships were...glowing?
"KEATS, what are you doing?" Thomas demanded. "KEATS!!!" Thomas rapidly looked over the systems report, and saw that the ship was building to a temporal explosion. "What in hell are you doing, you damned machine?!"
Haven realized that her ship, too, was getting close to a temporal core breach. It's a brilliant plan...but it will kill us all! she thought. She tried desperately to override the computer's control, but to no avail. She had no chance against a computer that knew this ship better than she did.
The Harbinger knew what was going to happen. The other two ships would explode. They would bombard Inferno with temporal energies the likes of which had never been seen. God only knew if his temporal shields would hold out under such pressure. He also came to another chilling realization. His ship would exist in three time continuums simultaneously... a danger he had never faced before. What would happen when three temporal cores exist in the same location at the same time?
Hyperion was the first ship to be destroyed. At first, the ship simply split in half along the axis of the temporal core. Then, a blinding white light spewed from the fissure, and engulfed the entire craft. Inferno was nearly blown apart by the explosion, and the Harbinger was knocked unconscious.
In his last moment, Thomas Maxwell felt nothing. His ship fell apart around him, and he saw the Rift, up close and personal. He simply looked on dispassionately as he suffocated in the Rift.
Haven saw the explosion of Hyperion, but had no time to mourn it. She knew that her ship would be the next to be obliterated, and tried to initiate a timeslide. She wasn't ready to die... not yet. As the white brilliance of the detonation approached her, she also felt herself vanishing into the timestream, perhaps just an instant ahead of the Rift itself.
The explosions left three separate time continuums, trapping the Rift within them. As they dissipated into nothingness, the Rift itself was pulled into the temporal rip. Inferno was being pulled along with the temporal currents, into the timestream. The Harbinger's eyes flickered open for an instant as he saw what was happening. He reached up to his console, and tapped a few keys. His ship performed a temporal jump back to the present, and he hoped that everything would be the way he remembered it.
As his ship materialized in the present, he looked out one of his viewports. There was a flash of nova intensity, one that engulfed the solar system, and the entire universe. Then, it disappeared. The death-knell of the Rift had sounded. He took one last look at the viewscreen, and collapsed in exhaustion.
--End Chapter Twenty--
Chapter Twenty One
Part One: Counting Losses
The Harbinger woke with a start. The bridge of Inferno was eerily, hauntingly dark. A few green and red lights dimly flickered on the consoles, while a few exposed wires sparked weakly. He felt something under his hand...his real one. He activated the infrared sensors within his optical replacement, and traced the letters on the object he touched. The Last Days. Haven's gift to him. He suddenly remembered what had happened, his grogginess quickly fading. "DANTE, status!"
There was no answer.
"DANTE! Where are Paradise Lost and Hyperion?!"
Still no answer.
He stood up and ran to the nearest terminal, ignoring the sharp pain in his leg. His sensors indicated there was a piece of shrapnel lodged in his calf, but he hadn't time to worry about it now. He punched his access code into the terminal, and waited for an answer. The name "Robert" was displayed on the screen. He knew DANTE was responding.
"What is your status?" he typed.
"Critical. Systems damaged. Timecore destroyed. Bodyslide functions destroyed. Androids destroyed. Primary power grid damaged, possibly beyond repair."
"My God...we barely got out of this one," he said aloud. "How did we escape if the timecore was destroyed?" he typed.
"That is unknown. When you initiated your timeslide, Inferno's timecore had been completely obliterated seconds before."
"In other words, someone helped us."
"Precisely."
"What about Thomas and Haven?"
"Thomas Maxwell's life functions ceased at time index 22:44:31. Haven dropped from sensors at 22:45:15. Both their ships were lost. I am sorry, Robert."
"Sorry? Why are you apologizing?"
"The destruction of Paradise Lost and Hyperion was our idea. Mine, MILTON's, and KEATS'. MILTON's original plan for dispatching the Rift would not have worked. Thus, we found a different approach, and did not tell you about it. We knew you would object to the destruction of the timeships."
The Harbinger sighed. He entered, "Next time, please inform me before you do something like that again. I appreciate being told about things like this."
"Understood, Robert."
"I now have just one problem: How am I going to get back to Earth, if everything on this ship is nothing but junk?"
Part Two: The First Recruit
DarkWolf sat quietly in his room. He wouldn't go to the IHFC's mansion, even though Outburst was there. He had listened to her explain the way the Harbinger had formed a cure using his DNA as a template, and wasn't very happy about it. Oh, he wasn't upset that his genes were being used to cure a disease. Rather, he felt violated that his genetic code could be commandeered and manipulated at will, and used for any purpose, by anyone. How could the Harbinger do that to him? Hadn't he suffered enough at the hands of Paramount and Anti Christ already? Why did the Black Mage have to compound that suffering by so cruelly reminding him that his life was not his own? DarkWolf took a deep breath. While the Harbinger's motives were questionable, he knew the Black Mage had no ill feelings toward him. Actually, they barely knew each other. He chalked up his suspicion and fear to the stress he had been undergoing as of late. Maybe I could use a vacation...
A woman appeared to him, suddenly, as if in a dream. While he felt compelled to get up, something in her demeanor told him to remain still. She sat next to him, and her eyes looked into his. "You're right, DarkWolf...Justin... they are using you. They want you for nothing more than their own scientific amusement. You're a curiosity to them, after all. The lapdog of Paramount...that's how they'll always think of you."
"W-who are you? What do you want from me?" His tone was defensive, but it only served to cover his fear.
"Shhhh... I will not harm you. Not like they have. Don't you see what they have taken from you? They took her from you. GlitterGirl...she died because of them. Their little games... the games they play with others' lives. You mean nothing to them, just like she meant nothing to them. They even fight amongst themselves, like children, each trying to gain the upper hand. Do you truly wish to be part of that?"
"N-no... I just want to be normal. I want to be safe. I don't want any part of these mutant games... can you help me?"
She smiled as her words took their effect upon him. It had been so easy. She wondered if Nemesis and Silver would be so easily swayed to her side. No...it's one thing to turn a disenchanted Upstart to my whims. It's quite another to manipulate the formidable Silver and the fearsom Nemesis...
"Yes, I can help you... But you must be patient. It will be some time before we can act... and when we are finished, you'll have everything you ever wanted... even GlitterGirl herself, if that be your wish."
"You would do that for me? Why?"
"I would, Justin... because I know what it's like to be controlled. I know what it is to live for another's purpose... to be manipulated and deceived and betrayed. But none of that matters now... take care of yourself, until we next meet."
"What should I call you? You didn't tell me your name."
"My name? Child... if a name would mean so much to you... so be it. My name is June."
Part Three: Casting off the Past
Her mind was a cold, dark place. Filled with memories of another... the dreams of another... the life of another. The "other" was trapped here. She was not... or was she? She could not wake up. She knew what was happening... the Ebon Death was destroying her body. But why hadn't SuperGrover or the Harbinger found a cure yet? Why weren't they trying to save her life? A long shadow of doubt was cast upon her, as she considered SuperGrover. Maybe he wants me to die... maybe he hates me for not being Jubilation Lee. Then the "other" took up a position next to her. That's right... that has to be it. He knows you're not me! You're not good enough to be me... and you never will be. You aren't worthy to lead the Red Hellions, and you're not worthy enough to be his! You were a mistake! Just a part of Anti Christ's game!
That's not true! It can't be! I am a person unto myself... I will NOT be shackled by everyone's expectations of you! You are not me! But... I am... I don't know... dammit! I can't think straight!
The "other" leaped upon her. WRONG WRONG WRONG! You will NEVER be accepted for who you are! You'll always be known as "that girl who looks like Jubilee, and has her memories, but says she isn't her!" They don't believe you! They think that you and I are one and the same... and they always will, until you prove to them that you ARE your own person...that you DESERVE to lead the Red Hellions... and that you DO NOT have to live in the shadow of me... me... the deceased Jubilation Lee. The "other"'s face was covered in sweat, and was fiery red. Her shouting had coated Luna's face with spittle, and Luna tried to wipe it away. She realized that this figment of her mind was right... she would have to prove her competence to escape the shadow of her predecessor.
If I have to PROVE that I am not you, then I'll start right now! She threw the "other" off of her, and grabbed her by the throat. She led the "other" to a precipice at the edge of her consciousness. This is where you're going to stay... locked away, where I don't have to worry about you anymore. And I'll prove to them that I deserve to lead the Hellions: Red. Do you understand me? YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DO THIS TO ME ANYMORE!
She pushed the "other" over the ledge, and listened as she screamed her way down the bottomless pit. She had cast off the past of this woman that could have been her... but wasn't. From this time forward, she would be the Lunatik... and not be known simply as Jubilee's replacement. Then she looked up, and saw the darkness. The Ebon Death would be the last obstacle for her to overcome.
--End Chapter Twenty One--
Epilogue
Part One: A Changed Man
"This is the best I can do, Robert."
The Harbinger stood before his craft. His small Interpersonnel Assault Carrier, called the Dauntless. It's hull was pocked with dents and scratches from the battering it took at the hands of the Rift. Robert Maxwell sighed. It was buried under tons of metal and circuitry. It would take a bit of digging to get it out. Speaking of getting things out, he thought, remembering the shrapnel lodged in his leg. He sat down on the dirty floor, and he altered his cybernetic hand into a pair of pliers, and inserted it into his leg. He felt around for a moment, gritting his teeth. He located the chunk of metal, and pulled hard. He cried out as is was torn out of his calf, and began breathing heavily. His lip bled slightly, as he had bitten it while pulling out the metal. His leg was bleeding profusely, and he quickly shifted his hand into a medical laser. He held together the laceration in his leg, and seared it until the flesh was rejoined. A few tears left his eyes, as it was intensely painful. He took a moment to catch his breath, realizing he had been holding it for several seconds. He sat on the floor awhile longer, looking up at his ship. Definitely going to take some work.
"DANTE, how long until my 'goodbye' message gets forwarded to Nemesis and the Black Court?"
"Thirty two hours, Robert," his computer replied, once again with speaking capability.
"Damn... there's no way I can get the Dauntless in working order by then. Are any of the androids still functioning? Do we have communications capability...any whatsoever?"
"Androids: nonfunctional, self-repairs are underway. Communications: none. It seems the Rift has left something of an electromagnetic blackout in its wake...which will most likely pass in a few hours."
The Harbinger clutched the bloodstained piece of shrapnel in his hand. "Then I guess we'd better get busy, and hope I can get back to Earth before Nemesis holds a memorial service for me."
"Do you really expect them to do that?"
"Honestly? No... I don't." His eyes were downcast, as he thought about the Black Court, and Claudia in particular. When I get back... things are going to be different. I will not be the same man I was before. I swear it.
"They don't hate you, Robert."
"Don't they? I've used them and betrayed them and killed them... and they have no idea how intimately involved I am in their lives. Am I a monster for using them because I believe it serves a 'greater good'? Am I?"
"While I am a sentient machine... I do not have the answer. My creators imbued me with intelligence beyond peer... beyond humanity, even beyond their own. And I still can not answer that question. Only you can find the truth, Robert."
"Yeah, well, I guess I'm just feeling a little bit philosophical today. Nearly witnessing the end of the universe sort of does that to a person, I suppose."
The ageless computer was silent for several moments. "I know that feeling only too well, Robert."
Part Two: The Power Within
Luna saw it as she trekked through the landscape of her own mind. It was a monster... a creature attached to the light of her soul. It was feeding... and it was enjoying its meal very much indeed. It was huge... dark.... evil. Its many arms were clinging to the representation of her soul... slowly draining the light from it. It had no eyes... but a mouth...such a monstrous mouth. It seemed to laugh and taunt her. She looked at it and screamed, Get away from that, you monster! IT IS NOT YOURS!!!!
It turned its attention to her, releasing her soul. Oh, shit, maybe that wasn't a good idea. It slid toward her, its arms making sickening gushing and sucking sounds as it zonk-schlurped across the ground. She was frozen. Not with fear, but with determination. As its arms reached out to her, she concentrated. When its tentacles contacted her skin, they were engulfed in flames. It quickly withdrew its arms and extinguished the flames with its own mind. It's only a disease...how could it possibly have a mind? she wondered. She had given her skin the properties of fire... so it would scorch and burn anything else that touched it. Then the creature's head approached her, and its mouth wished to engulf her. That's not a good idea. As it took her into its mouth, she was surrounded by darkness. But she knew it would not kill her... it was not finished with its meal. So she used the full force of her mind on it. As she fell down a seemingly bottomless chasm, she reminded herself that it was only within her own brain that this was occuring... and that she, herself, could control it. She forced her body upwards to a ledge jutting from the chasm, and stood upon it. Then, with all of her might, she unleashed a mental attack against the walls. Their rocky surfaces dwindled away, revealing the slimy, grotesque interior of the monster itself. Acid dripped from the slick walls, and her skin was burning. She panicked, fearing her own destruction at the hands of this beast. You will not kill me! NOT NOW!!! NOT EVER!!! She drove her fist into the wall, and focused her mind upon it. There was an ear-shattering explosion, as bits and pieces of the beast rained around her. It had nearly killed her, and she had--quite simply--blown it up. As she felt herself returning to consciousness, one question burned in her mind.... Just how powerful am I?
"That is a very intriguing question, you know," she heard.
"My King?"
"Yes, it's me... the Red King, of course. Grover, she's awake."
"Thank God," SuperGrover said as he quickly stood next to her bed. "Are you all right?"
"I am fine... though I'm not sure why."
"Your body put up one hell of a fight," Ryan said. "When the Harbinger's treatment didn't work, we thought you were going to die on us."
"But then, your mental activity suddenly spiked through the roof, and the disease just... disintegrated. It was damned odd," SuperGrover said. "But I'm certainly grateful."
"I didn't dare attack the disease with my powers," the Red King said. "It seemed to have some properties I had not encountered before... and I wasn't sure if I would do more harm than good... or possibly infect myself. I don't mean sound selfish, but--"
"It's okay," Luna replied. "I understand. You aren't any help in curing it if you're infected yourself, right? Don't worry about it. The point is, I am all right now. How are the others?"
"They're up and about," SuperGrover said. "And I'd say we've beaten this thing."
"I eliminated all traces of the disease from the air," Ryan said. "So we won't have to worry about a recurrence."
"That's definitely good news," Luna said, sitting up. "But right now, I'm hungry."
"It's kind of late," SuperGrover said. "But I'm sure I can find you something to eat... if you don't mind my joining you."
"Why, not at all, White King."
Part Three: Reconciliation
"...If you can change just one mind... save one life... make one contribution to the world... you have taken us one step closer to averting my future. Never think yourselves insignificant... just look at what one man managed to accomplish in his fifty-eight years of existence."
Nemesis looked at the screen as Robert Maxwell's image faded from it. He had last been seen over two days ago, at the IHFC mansion, trying to solve some problem for them. What was the Rift he spoke of? Why had he not come to say goodbye? She had begun to realize how much she truly cared for him. Despite the pain he had put her through, she discovered just how much he really did care. She had tried not to notice the pain he had been going through since their "falling out" those few months ago. But she had noticed, as much as she had felt it herself. She never told him how she really felt... and now, she knew she would never get to.
"Please, God... I'll give anything... if you would just give him back to me. I never wanted him to die... and I can't live without telling him how I truly feel."
"And how might that be, my Black Queen?" The voice... it couldn't be!!
"ROBERT!" She ran to him, and put her arms around him. He reciprocated, and they held onto each other for many minutes. As she reigned in her emotions, she released the embrace, and quickly turned her attitude. "Don't you ever pull a stunt like that again, do you hear me?"
"Um...right. I would have gotten here sooner, but traffic was hell."
"Are you all right?"
"That depends on what you mean by 'all right.' I've gained and lost a daughter in one day... lost another 'brother'... seen my ship almost get blown to hell, and nearly witnessed the end of the universe. I think I'm probably a little unsettled right now."
"You can explain all of it later. Right now, I just want to let you know how glad I am that you're alive."
"Does this mean you forgive me?" he asked.
"I can only forgive you... if you first forgive yourself."
"Claudia... I truly am sorry for what I've done to you. You did start out as just another of my experiments... one of my games. But you mean more to me than that now. I was a fool... I didn't realize how much I was hurting the people I truly cared about. I... this isn't easy for me to say... I'm sorry. I'm more sorry that you could ever know. But I promise that from this day forward, you will see a new man in me. No more secrets... no more lies. I will give you full disclosure... the truth. No manipulation... no mind control... nothing."
"Robert... I am not sure what to say..."
"Just tell me that you love me..."
"I'm not sure that I can."
He moved closer to her, and looked her in the eye. "But... I love you, Claudia."
"Are you sure of that, Robert?"
"Yes," he said, as he kissed her lips gently.
Part Four: The War is About to Ignite
It began with a whisper.
"This is our future."
The Prophet was their leader. A man of mystery from another world. His gift of precognition led him to where he was now.
Visionary was another precognitive. Denied the power of speech, he instead communicated his visions through the strokes of a brush... the canvas spoke of the things he saw.
Clairvoyance saw all possibilities. Her mind was filled with images of all the wonders that could be, and the horrors that may come.
The Avatar was their repository of knowledge. He was a living record of human history. From the very dawn of mankind, up to the present, he could see all. Every day gave him more and more data to preserve in his the living archive of his brain. Some believed he was possessed by others... the minds of Amal Farouk and Robyyn. Whether they were correct was something only the Avatar himself knew.
The Vanguard was their link to the world without. Beyond the walls of the warehouse that served as their home was an entire world. A wondrous, dangerous place full of opportunity... and death. Whenever something occurred outside that concerned them, the Vanguard would be the one to tell them.
Today, they sat around the Obelisk, performing their daily communion with the artifact from another world. The red pyramid atop it glowed brightly with each word they spoke.
"Give us our peace... show us tomorrow's promises." The voice of the Prophet.
"Show us our path. Remind us of our righteousness." The voice of the Avatar.
"We are crusaders and will crush all who stand in our way." The voice of Clairvoyance.
"We do not live and die by the whims of Time. We command our own destinies." The voice of Vanguard.
They were the Archons. Their will was absolute.
This was only the beginning.
--End of The Rift--Coming Next: The Archons