Egypt;
The Valley of the Kings
Now…

Jeff Terrel’s breath came in gasping wheezes as he lowered his head, clutching at his chest.  He could feel the heat radiating off of the pristine white sand under his knees.  His dead and useless bionic arm supported his weight as he struggled to breathe wishing the pain in his chest away.  He knew that he was having a heart attack; not his first but without his medication probably his last.

“Dammit…” he hissed trying to calm down, massaging his chest and wincing at the intense pain.  Sweat was pouring from his skin, his armor heating up and broiling him alive or so it felt.  This was not how he was supposed to die.  After all that he had seen, and done…to die in the middle of some unnamed deserted wasteland on his fucking knees.  No one would even know.

He glanced up through bleary, watering eyes as an explosion rocked the ground.  In the distance he could see a plume of black smoke boiling into the otherwise brilliant blue sky.  His partners had apparently started the assault, or maybe Helspont was attacking.  Whichever, he was useless, helpless to help.  He cursed and winced as his heart seemed to twist in his chest again.

He could see the Quantum girl, Jenny standing not so far away smoking a cigarette and watching the action apparently.  She had seen him fall but seemed unconcerned, actually amused and taunting him as he had writhed in the dirt clutching at his chest.  She was supposed to be with them- he, Savant, Nemesis, the boy Midnighter who had died, all gathered and following Void through THE BLEED and trying to stave off Armageddon.  But the Quantum girl seemed to have her own agenda that did not include helping them unless it suited her fancy.

“So useless,” he heard her say as she flicked the butt of her cigarette into the dunes.  She turned and strolled back towards Shaft already pulling another fag from her battered pack.  He wondered how she never seemed to run out.  She stepped right up before him and lit her cigarette blowing smoke down at him.

“I’ve seen where this goes.  It’s pointless,” she mused as she stared down at Terrel.  “Void is just wasting time, and lives trying to stop the apocalypse.  The Firestorm will arrive and the Horsemen will ride.  It’s destiny…”

“Fuck that…” Shaft hissed through clenched teeth as his hand drifted from his chest towards the holster on his belt.  The woman was psychotic, that much was obvious, and she needed to be put down.  He hoped that he had just one bullet left in his clip.  That was all he needed to put the bitch out of his misery.

“’Ello…”

Terrel paused as the day suddenly got brighter.  Jenny Quantum’s body suddenly started to sparkle with a silvery glow that he had come to recognize.  Hand on the butt of his gun he glanced back and saw Void shimmering into existence, two shadowy figures at her side.  It took a moment to recognize them as they stepped into reality- it had been decades after all, but when they finally solidified he breathed a sigh of relief.  The cavalry had apparently arrived.

---

Cole Cash heaved the contents of his stomach as he always did every time that Void did her thing and yanked him from point A to point B without warning.  Coffee mainly, thankfully, but it still burned and left the bitter taste of bile in his mouth and a sour stench of vomit on his mask.

After he was done retching he looked about, guns in hand and squinted into the brilliant glare of the blazing sunlight bouncing off the desert sands.  It was hot as hell and he immediately started to sweat like a pig, definitely not dressed for the climate in his trademark trenchcoat.  Egypt he figured as he saw what looked to be pyramids way off in the distance, though with Void you never knew.  An Egypt… somewhere.

His gaze strayed to the black column of smoke roiling from some breach in the ground about half a mile away and saw Void drifting in that direction with Zealot hot on her heels and ignoring the blood flowing down her arm.  He could make out others near the smoking crater, saw the flash of swords and figured there were Coda warriors in the mix.  Great…

Closer there was a young woman in a green jumper and boots, smoking a cigarette and giving him the evil eye.  She was standing over a guy in purple armor, old and with a metal arm planted in the dirt as his flesh and blood hand fumbled with the gun at his hip.  He did not look so good, but best not to take chances.

“Better not,” the Grifter said as he trained one of his guns on the old man, the other on the girl.  She actually snorted, blue smoke rolling from her nose in contempt.  It was the man that spoke first though, his voice weak and rasping:

“Grifter… Shoot her!”

The old guy looked sort of familiar, but Cash wasn’t about to just start shooting until he knew what was going on.  The girl wasn’t making any threatening moves, and this wasn’t the first time Void had dropped him ignorant in the middle of a firefight.  He did cock his hammer though.

“Maybe you could give me a reason, buddy.”  The girl laughed.

“Always the macho prick, Cash?  One would think Zealot would’ve collared you by now.  Brought ya ta heel, Coda boy.”

Cash blinked wondering how the girl knew his name, and in that split second he saw the blur as the old man drew his gun and fired.  He heard the girl squeal after the explosion from the gun, saw the gushing spurt of blood, the welling from the hole in her thigh.  She staggered back but did not fall.

“You bloody…” she cursed, her hands going to the wound.  Cash saw her hands glow a wavering gold and she winced biting clear through the butt of her cigarette.  When she removed her hands a moment later he saw that her wound was sealed leaving nothing but a bloody mess behind on the smooth tanned skin of her thigh.  She held up the red glazed slug and gazed at it curiously before tossing it over her shoulder.

“Ya shot me!” she screeched, striding forward a step and kicking the old man squarely in the face.  He flipped backwards to sprawl in the sand and Grifter’s eyes went wide to finally get a look at his weathered, wrinkled face.

“Shaft?” he said.  He had just been fighting the man, but he could see the resemblance even through the wrinkles and gray hair, and the armor too though the boy he had encountered was sporting a red and white outfit.  What the fuck?

He had no idea what was happening, but he knew now who the villain obviously was.  Both arms raised, his guns trained on the red-haired girl who was starting to glow.  “Hold on…”

The girl ignored him as she stepped over Shaft planting her feet on either side of his chest.  The old man was struggling to raise his gun, to fire but his face was twisted in agony and he looked as though he could barely breathe.  The girl planted her booted foot on Shaft’s gun hand slamming it back down to the sand.  She glanced at Grifter, then spit her cigarette butt into the sand.  Her right hand flared with a brilliance of white gold, crackling with energy.

“Bastard,” she snarled as she thrust her hand down, squatting over Shaft and driving her fingers through the battered purple armor.  Shaft screamed and his gun went off again as his body spasmed, a flurry of bullets imbedding into the sand.  And in another fluid motion the girl stood; the man’s heart pulsing in her fist steam roiling skyward.

Cole Cash fought back the urge to vomit again and opened fire…

---

“Void!  Wait!”

Zealot raced across the burning sands trying to ignore the pain in her shoulder.  The blood had stopped flowing for the moment, but it ached mightily and she knew that if she moved it too much, too abruptly she would do more damage and it would be totally useless.  She cursed Helspont for the wound and her own lax in dedication for allowing the Daemonite to inflict it.

Void however ignored her floating on towards the battle that was apparently raging a short distance ahead.  She could see signs of an explosion, thick, black smoke rising into the sky.  Amidst the cloying smoke she could see movement quick and furtive and an occasional shimmer of flashing metal.  Swords by the look and that meant Coda.  Zealot hoped that meant that some of her rogue sisters were on hand and that she would get the chance to deal them the deaths they so richly deserved.

But then she stopped.  Breathing hard as the smoke dispersed for a moment caught on a hot breeze, Lady Zannah of the Sisterhood of the Coda’s eyes went wide, her mouth dropping open in disbelief.  Indeed she saw two of her rogue sisters; Hesta dressed in her violet bodysuit and crimson flowing cape, her blades flashing wildly.  The other she did not know, but dressed all in black figured her for an adept accepted after her own exile.  But she had expected the Coda.  What she had not expected were the two that they were fighting.

“Kenesha,” she whispered in disbelief, watching as her long lost daughter struggled against the black-garbed Coda Warrior.  It had been ages since she had been forced to abandon her daughter leaving her behind as Zealot followed a dark path of death and revenge.  In those years… centuries she had had no word; no knowledge that Kenesha lived… survived…

But the brief spark of joy that she felt in seeing her daughter again quickly dwindled when she saw the identity of the final warrior.  She was the great betrayer, she who had sold the Sisterhood to the Daemonites and caused the deaths of over two hundred Sisters in the Blood Wars.  The Adrastea traitor…

“Charis… Nemesis!”

The woman turned probably sensing her name spoken rather than hearing it.  The Adrastea were psychic, Charis in particular an Empath and could probably feel the rage building within Zealot.  Zealot was rewarded as the traitor’s dark eyes went wide for a moment even as she blocked a flurry of Hesta’s attacks.  Then the bitch smiled…

---

Helspont watched the fluid monitor that flickered through the images of the battle raging above.  He was surprised to see the heretic Zealot suddenly amidst his antagonists but knew that she would not be enough to turn the tide against him.  Time was his true opponent.

“Delphae!” he shouted turning to the Coda Mystic hovering cross-legged four feet over the cracked stone floor, her hands flowing over the ancient machinery before her.  “What is the delay?  Our hunters have called in reinforcements, and I fear my devoted will not be up to the task.”

The withered form of Delphae fluttered for a moment before she turned her head towards the Daemonite lord.  “The human is riddled with disease, various cancers.  The machines are purging him of malignancy, slowing the conversion.  And they were not designed for this purpose, oh lord.”

“Well, bypass, bitch!  It’s not like I care that he survives.  The monkey is a diversion, fodder for our cause.”

“Of course, oh Lord,” Delphae said with contempt returning her attention to the ancient machinery.  “I AM trying.”

“Try harder.”  Helspont returned his attention to the monitors, his white eyes slitting as he stared at the scene.  He grinned.  Perhaps the monkey would not be needed after all…

---

Charis raised her arm bringing her blade square, perpendicular to the ground as Zealot sliced for her throat.  Sparks flew as the two masterfully crafted blades made contact, Zealot’s skitting off and sliding free with a silvery chime.  Nemesis rolled and came up in a better defensive pose, her blade parallel to the ground now ready to strike or defend as needed.

“Lady Zannah,” she said smirking, trying to put up a brave front.  She noted that Zealot was wounded and was glad.  That would perhaps balance her own exhaustion and make the coming battle closer to fair.  “Still holding a grudge, I see.”

“Traitor!” Zealot hissed taking a stance in form herself, sword raised and ready, her body tense and poised to spring.  “At first I did not know why Void brought me here, but now it is obvious.  Retribution is finally at hand.”

“And as pig-headed and oblivious as ever I see.”  Nemesis laughed as she glanced at the red-cloaked Coda.  That traitor, like Charis, had taken a few minor cuts but was otherwise fine and ready for more.  She was eyeing Zealot warily however, her own kata-blades raised high and ready to strike.  Thinking Zealot the greater threat?  Her mistake…

With a thought Nemesis brought up the full capabilities of her Stealth Suit, shifting from armored defense to percentages of offense as she lunged at the Coda traitor in classic fencing poise.  She sensed Zealot quick to react but a split second too late, her katana slicing down in a wide arc and glancing off of the suit’s energy shield suddenly sparking to life on Charis’ left arm.  Nemesis bare registered Zannah’s twisting follow through as the silver-haired exile flipped with her own momentum, recovering swiftly as Charis concentrated on her true target.

Helspont’s bodyguard was cold and hard to read emotionally, but she was Coda and to Charis that made her an open book.  Nemesis had been trained in the Coda ways as well; the only Adrastean to be so honored… and cursed.  The Adrastea had been bred as slaves in the Dark Ages of Khera, victims of an ancient dictatorship.  After a bloody rebellion they were freed but deemed a lower caste by the new High Lords and denied their birthright.  So they became criminals; thieves, spies… assassins.  In her long life Charis had been each, and more.  She had been taken in by the Sisterhood of the Coda, trained and even accepted, at least until her ‘betrayal’.  In that training though she came to know her sisters and how they moved.  There were few that she could not read, anticipate and beat.

Hesta was good however, the twin blades she wielded cleaving down to drive Charis’ blade into the sand; as anticipated.  Nemesis abandoned the pinned sword and continued forward however, her body feeling the ache as she arched her back in an almost impossibly double-jointed maneuver that seemed to fold her in half.  She kicked off the shifting sand using the thrust of her lunge to whip her legs over her head, curling her torso with the sudden flip and driving the heels of her boots into the startled face of the Coda warrior.  On contact she kicked backwards sending Hesta sprawling to the sand while she flipped, the glider wings of her stealth suit unfolding and giving her distance to land gracefully several meters away.

Zealot was an ice-cold bitch but not a fool and Nemesis was happy to see that she had taken advantage of the situation, though probably grudgingly.  Charis could feel the anger radiating off of both women, the pure hatred they felt for one another as Zannah held the tip of her sword to Hesta’s throat.  Zealot had one foot on the Coda’s left wrist; the hand still clutching the wide, deadly blade that was her trademark weapon.  The other lay a ways out of reach shining in the sand.  Charis could sense that Zealot wanted to end it, but she saw that Lady Zannah of the Coda was about to do something stupid.

“Repent your sins, Hesta,” she hissed and Nemesis could see that it was killing Zannah to do what honor and old archaic laws demanded.  There was a very brief flicker of shock on Hesta’s face; disbelief.

“Watch it…” Charis said even as Hesta spat, remarkably hitting Zealot squarely in the face.  Nemesis could feel Zealot’s rage boil over as she charged forward.  Lady Zannah simply leaned her weight on the pommel of the sword and drove it through the traitor’s neck.  Blood gushed forth as the body spasmed and Zannah twisted the blade.  Charis felt the sudden fear as Hesta’s final spark fled the eons old shell of flesh and finally lay still.

Nemesis dove past, scooping her own blade up and rolling in the sand even as Zealot pulled her sword free and whirled it about in a spray of warm blood.  Nemesis came up in a defensive crouch even as the blood-spattered Zealot poised offensively.  “Your turn,” she snarled and leaped as Charis raised her katana to meet the attack…

---

Savant was tired.  Whoever the black-garbed Coda was, she was good.  It was damn hard to stay a step ahead of her sword despite the ‘Seven League Boots’ that kept her hopping in and out of real space.  In line teleportation was great, especially when coupled with Savate and a few other more esoteric martial art forms, but the Coda was a master in her own right and seemed to anticipate Kenesha’s every move.

She briefly wondered as she flashed into reality with a leg sweep that the Coda leapt over, if the woman was Adrastean.  As far as she knew, and Zealot had once confirmed, Charis was the only Coda ever of that ilk.  At the thought of her sister she glanced away and saw that Zannah and Nemesis had dealt with Hesta but were now squaring off.

Kenesha sighed wondering just when Void had plucked Zealot from time and space.  Sometime in Savant’s past apparently as the pair had at least come to terms of a sort in her own time frame.  Her big sister was wearing an old armor though, and with that close-cropped hair she figured that Zannah was probably from Lord Emp’s second, or was it third incarnation of WildC.A.T.s.

And where was Void for that matter?  She had floated past a minute ago and now had disappeared.  They could definitely use her help here, but–
Savant hissed as a line of fire burned through her calve.  She blinked back tears even as she ported away, stepping back to reality a good distance from the Coda traitor.  She winced as she stepped on the injured leg and saw the deep gash oozing blood.  Not spurting thankfully, but it hurt like hell.  She looked to the sneering Coda as her foe snorted.

“You should concentrate, little sister,” she said twisting the familiar with contempt.  “You will live longer.”

“Figure I’ve lived long enough, bitch,” Kenesha snapped as she ‘stepped’, vanishing.  Appearing three meters above the woman, hoping that her foe would think she would attack from behind she quickly dropped.  As expected the Coda had spun slashing but found only empty air.  She quickly recovered however and glanced skyward before leaping forward to tumble in the sand as Savant ported away before hitting the earth.

She appeared even higher then a moment later, her body shifting to the vertical plane as momentum carried her forward rather than down.  And suddenly inspiration struck.

Savant ported again… and again… higher and higher until the black dot that was her opponent vanished from even her enhanced sight and only the distant pyramids and the rocky formations of the Valley of the Kings were discernable.  Once more and she felt the sudden bite of the cold upper atmosphere.  The air was thin and her teeth were soon chattering as she started to drop.

She lowered her aviator goggles into place and keyed in the telescopic sight, desperately scanning the distant ground for her foe.  Free falling her momentum was nearing its peak- sixty meters a second as gravity took full control calling her back to earth.  She hoped that the Coda had no special sight as she finally spotted her turning slowly in a circle with her katana raised to strike.  Kenesha was still out of range she knew as she saw the woman glance up twice then turn away.  Good.

Savant concentrated, even praying a bit as she saw position in her mind’s eye.  This was a trick she had only tried a couple times in the past and never at the speeds that she was traveling now.  It would take split-second timing, and she had to step back into reality just inches from the woman.  Too far from the target and she knew the Coda would react.  Too close and she might actually step ‘into’ her foe breaking way too many laws of physics to count.  The resultant explosion of two bodies of mass trying to occupy the same space would obliterate both women, scattering their atoms with the four winds.

She breathed deeply, tensing, hoping that the boots would do their job and absorb most of the impact.  She bit her lip, screwing up her courage not relishing the thought of being a cripple for the rest of her nearly immortal life.  Right, she thought.  Like I’m actually gonna survive this kamikaze stunt.

“What the hell,” she said and stepped…

---

Dillon shifted uneasily in the sand scanning her surroundings for any sign of her foe.  She was sweating in the heat, the little trickster Savant nearly running her ragged with her popping habits.  She was good, Dillon would give her that much respect, but she was not a true Coda Warrior.  But then there were many that would say the same of her…

She had been orphaned in South Africa at an early age, her parents slain in a terrorist bombing.  She had been placed in a workhouse in Maseru, which was little more than slavery working in the diamond mines for years, growing cold and hard.  She was just thirteen when she had been rescued in the midst of another rape scene, her captors and drivers abusing her body and sex for years.

Sister Maxima had disposed of all of the slave drivers without breaking sweat nor stride, actually decapitating the filthy beast that had been grinding into her in the midst of climax.  Maxima had as gently taken her from that life as she had viscously slaughtered her abusers.  She had ignored the other slaves beyond freeing those that they passed casually of their leg irons with a flick of her sword.

Maxima took her to the Coda Citadel off the coast of Africa, a beautifully wondrous place where she explained that somewhere in her lineage Dillon had the blood of the Kherubim in her veins.  The very acts of sexual abuse, the constant rapes had awakened that blood and sparked her ancestral birthrights to life, calling Maxima to her in the process.

Dillon had been in awe of it all at first, and scared and in shock, but eventually she came to trust the woman that had saved her.  It was only then that her training had began in earnest.  It had taken years to learn the ways of the Coda and the training in mind, body and spirit was intense.  She learned soon that she would no longer age her body adjusting to its heritage at nearly three decades, and that she would heal quickly.  She learned too that she had a natural affinity for the blade in battle and that she was very, very fast.  More so than any of her sisters at the citadel, that was apparently her ‘gift’, one that she swiftly came to exploit.

When she was finally fully accepted into the Sisterhood of the Coda she was undefeated and well honored.  She was soon given tasks and assignments and the world became her playground.  She had been away when the Coda Citadel had been destroyed by a human named Chandler while Zealot, Lord Emp and Grifter slew most of her sisters in a mass and bloody purging.

Dillon chanced a glance at Zealot then, savagely battling Nemesis just a few yards away.  She wanted nothing more than to strike the bitch down for all the pain and misery that she had caused, but first she had to deal with the Lady Zannah’s daughter.  Too, she remembered the plan, and her oath to Delphae that she would follow the Daemonite Lord Helspont to the bitter end; an end that would grant her revenge on all –

Dillon’s eyes widened as a flicker of light appeared before her.  She saw the tear in space ripping wider right in front of her chest, the now familiar ‘Seven League Boots’ emerging just an inch from impact, within her defenses.  Instinctively her hands shifted, the sword twirling in her fingers and swinging down in a close arc but she knew that she was too late.

She felt the impact of the boot heels as they hit squarely in her chest.  She heard the sharp CRACK as her sternum shattered staring as her body seemed to implode.  She gasped a final ragged breath as her ribs punctured her lungs.  She felt her feet lifted as the force of impact shoved her back, Savant’s legs emerging from the rift.  She watched helplessly as suddenly dead fingers lost their grip on her prized sword; Maxima’s final gift when she had been accepted.  It spiraled skyward flashing beautifully in the sunlight surrounded by the pristine blue sky.  Tears welled as the pain stole the moment, blood spewing the beauty as her vision began to fade…

---

Nemesis sensed the sudden agony and leaped out of the path of the projectile as it went screaming past.  She rolled in the sand looking up just in time to see that it was Savant and the other Coda as them slammed into the earth dozens of yards away, bouncing and seemingly locked together for the longest time.  They finally separated only when they slammed into the rocky outcrop that marked the edge of the valley, the two bodies flung in opposite directions like rag dolls.  The black-garbed Coda looked as though her body was broken in two, held together only by the almost impervious body stocking of armor that she wore.  She finally hit the ground silently with the distance but obviously with a splat even as Savant, or what was left of her vanished behind the jutting stones.

“Kenesha…”

Nemesis turned raising her sword in the direction of the soft, choked voice but saw that Zealot was as mesmerized by the scene as she had been.  And were those tears in the ice queen’s eyes?  Charis would never know the love of family, but she could imagine that even Zealot would mourn the loss of her daughter.

The sound of gunfire distracted her and she scanned the area.  It was distant and out of sight, but she imagined Shaft was fighting a battle of his own.  She wondered briefly where Void and Jenny Quantum had gone, cursing that she could read neither empathetically.  Both were either totally void of emotion or very good at masking their feelings.  The gunfire ceased and she returned her attention to Zealot, feeling her pain.  Time to end this.

“Zannah…” she said softly standing and lowering her blade to a less threatening level, though still defensive.  Zealot turned to consider her, her own sword gripped tightly, quivering slightly, her eyes sparkling with moisture.  Charis felt the anger beneath the hurt and knew that the warrior would sway in any direction if she did not step lightly.

“Lady Zannah, we have to end this.  I’m sorry about your… daughter, but she knew what she was getting into just like I did when Void gathered us.  This is a suicide mission to stop Helspont from destroying…well…everything.  Kenesha gave her life to do just that, as did some poor kid named Midnighter.  Don’t let their sacrifices be in vane by continuing your vendetta against me.”  Charis smiled.  “Time enough to kill me later, Zealot.”

Zealot stared at Nemesis for a long, silent moment.  Neither breathed nor moved, both considering.  Finally Charis saw Zealot relax, just a little as her injured shoulder sagged.  The woman nodded, looking up –

Zealot’s eyes widened in surprise and her sword was suddenly poised overhead to strike.  Nemesis was quick to respond, mirroring with a defensive stance as Zealot’s eyes narrowed again.  Dammit, Charis thought.  I almost…

It was then that the shadow fell over her as something slammed into her back.  But for the defense of her stealth suit she knew that she would now probably be dead as she splayed to the ground.  She rolled ignoring the throb of pain in the small of her back barely avoiding a massive claw that swept past where she had just been, clacking and snapping closed like some malformed and gigantic pair of scissors.  Ignoring the irony Charis scuttled back crab-like, putting distance between her and the monstrosity that hovered above her.

It was a genetic joke.  Whatever it was supposed to be, whatever it once was, was lost in an amalgamation of mutated body parts and metallic prosthetics.  It resembled a huge insect mainly, propelled skyward on six ‘daddy long leg’ like limbs that seemed to have too many joints bending at opposing angles.  A long, prehensile scorpion’s tail wavered in the air, a metallic extension of the creature’s armored shell.  Nemesis could see something green and vile dripping in globs from the stinger and thanked the creator of her stealth suit for a job well done.  That same green ichor oozed from two twitching mandibles situated over a cavernous maw in the crab-like shell.  Two metal arms sported claws and Nemesis could hear the sounds of hydraulics as the arms- more akin to waldos- shifted, extending and retracting, claws snapping loudly.  Most horrific of all was the pale human face that was set deep within what should have been the mouth.  It was only evident when the light hit it properly, and it was apparently quite mad, its countenance twisted somewhere between agony and bliss.

Charis shuddered in shock and disgust even as she sensed Zealot step beside her.  Too late to defend, she was caught cold, dead if Zealot chose to end it now.  She tensed…

“Helspont did this,” she heard Zealot calmly say as though it was just another dull moment in a monotonous life.  “Void did not say why she brought us here.  We were fighting the Daemonite, WildC.A.T.s and Youngblood united.  We would have defeated him, I’m certain of that.  We will defeat him now just as surely.”

Zealot struck a heroic pose as the creature reared high above them, its human voice bellowing in rage though pathetically squeaking in comparison to its size.  Nemesis sprang to her feet, raising her own blade to stand at Zealot’s side, ready to attack.  She grinned remembering a similar situation on the slopes of Mount Vesuvius almost three thousand years prior; she and Zealot back to back and surrounded by Daemonites lusting for their blood.

“Together again, Lady Zannah?”  She sensed Zealot’s smirk.

“For now.  As you said, time enough to kill you later.”

---

“I’ve found the path, Helspont!”

The Daemonite Lord turned from the monitors almost annoyed that he would not get to witness Zealot’s imminent demise.  Destiny however was a fickle mistress and he forever had to be prepared for her call.  He strode to Delphae’s side where the Coda Mystic manipulated the very elements to do her bidding.

She hovered as always before the massive bank of machinery, her hands flicking swiftly, fingers gesticulating as she touched holographic icons displayed by the archaic computer.  He glanced at the glowing screen that she was intent upon watching as a helix of grid lines morphed and twisted amongst a flurry of numbers and equations flashing and just as swiftly disappearing on the wide monitor.  The disfigured Coda was sweating from the power that he could sense her containing and she stank of the many days that they had been on their quest.  He hoped that at last she had succeeded.

“Well?” he finally snapped, perturbed at her sudden silence.

“Patience… milord…” she hissed.  “I must lock the path before opening the portal.  There is much… confusion at the far end.  Time is in flux as well as probability.”

“Just get the damn portal open, Coda bitch!  I know that Ogre lost the orb, but though he died it must have survived.  Get it for me and you will have your rewards as promised.”

“Oh, it did,” Delphae purred, her cankerous lips twisting in a grimace that was supposed to be a smile.  “It’s so close I can taste it.”

HELSPONT!

The Daemonite turned black fire blazing about the skull of his humanesque armor.  He stared at the silver-sheened woman that had been a thorn in his side these past few days hovering several yards away and above the dusty floor of the ancient Coda Safehaven.  He sighed, wondering when he would be free of the bitch.

“You are persistent, woman,” he said willing the power within him to surge, “I’ll give you that.  Lord Emp chose his chattel well.”

Your threat ends here, Daemonite.  You will not ignite the conflagration that will destroy this Earth.  Your Worldstorm will not happen.

Helspont paused, blinking in confusion.  “I don’t know what you’re babbling about, woman, but Reunification will happen and soon.”  It was only then that he noticed the other, a human floating behind the woman named Void.  He was dressed in garish orange and yellow, a flame of his own burning atop his head.  Helspont laughed.

“Another monkey?  And a child at that.  Are you that desperate, woman?”

“Monkey?” the flame-haired youth said and Helspont saw the nuclear glow of atomic energy engulf his hands.  The boy had power.

“Delphae…”

“There!” Delphae screeched, shuddering.  “Open!”

NO!

Helspont wasted no time as he turned and shoved past the Coda Mystic, leaping through the portal that she had opened.  He could hear Void’s cry echoing even as he loosed his energies, disrupting and closing the portal behind him.  The mystic screamed in agony, and he could feel the heat of atomic fires licking at his heels but he did not care.  Delphae had served her purpose as had the other Coda bitches.  The Orb would soon be in his hands again…

And this backwater mud ball that had been his prison for so many eons would finally fall to the Daemonite Horde…

Destiny would prevail at last…

---

To be Concluded…

Crucible comes to a sense-shattering conclusion as all the players finally converge on the board.  Learn the fates of Nemesis and Zealot!  See what becomes of Grifter!  Find out what happens with Void and her latest acquisition (who was that anyway?)!  And just what is up with Jenny Quantum?

All will be explained as the Wildstorm Universe gears up for the final chapter…

WORLDSTORM: ALPHA

Don’t miss it.  But first be sure to read Worldstorm #0 and the latest Authority, elsewhere on this site…

---

To Be Concluded...

Next Issue: Crucible comes to a sense-shattering conclusion as all the players finally converge on the board.  Learn the fates of Nemesis and Zealot!  See what becomes of Grifter!  Find out what happens with Void and her latest acquisition (who was that anyway?)!  And just what is up with Jenny Quantum?

All will be explained as the Wildstorm Universe gears up for the final chapter…

WORLDSTORM!

Don’t miss it.  But first be sure to read Worldstorm #0 and the latest Authority, elsewhere on this site…


From the Author:  This was initially going to be a 12-issue Maxi-Series that was going to culminate in conjunction with WORLDSTORM along with the other Titiles on site.  Unfortunately with real world pressures and a general loss of steam (with exception to Ed and Jae), most of the titles here at Wildstorm fizzled.  Pity that as most were very good.  However, liking to finish things I start, the WORLSTORM will happen.  After a couple more issues are posted Ed, Chris and I will be trying to wrap up this storyline that was traveling through all the books with a hopefully satisfying conclusion.  My own Crucible will end next issue but it will move into the next issue of WORLDSTORM after that, as will Ed's Authority and anyone else who wants to take a stab at a last stand with us.

And what will it mean for WILDSTORM after WORLDSTORM?  Well the site will remain...

As it is the only site in our group that is fully devoted to the WILDSTORM Universe, it will be here for those who want to take up the gauntlet.  With DC's upcoming relaunch, which is incorporating Wildstorm into their main line I figure someone will be inspired  and will want to write Stormwatch with Martian Manhunter or Lois lane with Grifter.  And as you will see in upcoming issues, that opportunity will present itself.

But we're not done yet!  There will be at least three more updates before WORLDSTORM: ALPHA, so keep reading and start dreaming, and as always... WRITE!

Curt F
EIC: WILDSTORM
8/2/11

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