April 2001
Dystopia, Part Two
NOTE: This story is set just prior to the BLACK MASS one-shot
"This hunk of junk will never make it," Kelly La Croi insisted cynically.
"So noted. In fact, it was so noted the last time you said that," Dane Whitman answered, continuing to pull back the dingy tarp covering the object in the flatbed of Kelly's weather-beaten aircar, "and the time before that." He let the last handful of gray fabric fall into a shapeless pile near the cab of the aircar, and took another look at the piece of antique machinery he had revealed. It was approximately the size of a motorcycle, although slightly bulkier and without wheels. Instead two stubby, downward sloping wings protruded from the sides, and a single rocket thruster dominated the rear surface. At the front was a small, raised control console with an upright throttle in the center. The entire surface of the apparatus was chrome, pocked and darkened by years of abuse and neglect, but overall the frame seemed solid.
"Well, I'm sorry," Kelly continued defensively, "but not only is it sorry looking ... it's atomic powered! That is so turn-of-the-century." Despite her disdainful words, Kelly could not help but marvel at the man in the dark armor as he threw one leg over the outdated vehicle and settled comfortably into the saddle. Dane seemed so ... sure of himself, a quality which Kelly could not remember seeing in her own uncertain world for quite some time. When his eye had fallen upon the vehicle in the salvage shop - the only place likely to have any form of transportation Kelly could afford – her initial response was to scoff at the quaint mechanical relic and move on. But Dane had seemed so confident that the vehicle would meet their needs, Kelly had resigned herself to letting him have his way and reserving the right to doubt. She continued to do so, saying, "Do you even know how to run that ... that ..."
"Atomic Steed," Dane supplied the name of the vehicle for her. He keyed an ignition sequence on the control console and took hold of the throttle as the engine within growled to life. The thruster began to glow, and the atomic steed rose out of the flatbed, arced into the air and swung back down again to rest beside Kelly. "I used to have one. I think I'll manage running it all right," Dane observed with a wry half-smile. Then he became serious and said, "Kelly, I understand that you were born into a world so different from the one I know that I probably don't make much sense to you. But I need your help, and I need you to trust me. Can you do that?" He offered one black-gloved hand to her.
Kelly hardly needed her mutant telepathy to know that he was being completely sincere. The intensity of his gaze captivated her, and she was sorry for the mockery she had subjected him to since the salvage shop. "I ... I will," she agreed, taking his hand. He helped her onto the back of the atomic steed, and it once again lifted off, skimming out across the dock beyond Kelly's aircar, over the water, and toward the island called Sanctuary. Toward the fortress of Exodus.
At first the island could be perceived as no more than a smudge of darkness in the pollution-laced fog blanketing the bay. But as the atomic steed bore Dane and Kelly swiftly toward Sanctuary, the details became clearer. The island was dominated by a single, multi-level structure, shaped vaguely like a hand thrusting out of the earth. Each finger was a colossal tower, with a cold, metallic surface broken occasionally by black-glass windows, and covered by embedded cables running the length. Enormous artillery cannons topped three of the towers; the other two were crested with antennae and rotating satellite dishes. The base of the structure had an exterior similar to the towers, with huge, heavy doors in the center of its face. The castle was impressive, both for its sheer size and its technological components, which seemed to far outstrip anything else Kelly had shown Dane in this time. Dane gently pressed the throttle to the right, and the atomic steed began to veer away from Sanctuary.
"Losing your nerve?" Kelly asked, although through her telepathy she could sense no such trepidation.
"I just don't want to get us both killed in a suicidal frontal assault," Dane explained, as the atomic steed leaned to the left in an arc that would bring them around the far side of the island.
The atomic steed glided down to the beach surface of the island. Dane dismounted, helped Kelly off, then shifted the Shield of Night to his forearm and drew the Sword of Light from its scabbard. Wordlessly, Dane led Kelly toward the looming castle ahead. Her attention was riveted on the Black Knight as they approached, the way his arms and legs seemed as powerful as coiled steel, the regal aspect of his gold-trimmed, ebony helm. When they reached the shadows at the base of the castle walls, and Dane turned to look at her, she was jolted back to her senses and flashed a sardonic smile to mask her feelings. "What now?" she whispered.
"Find a way to let ourselves in," Dane answered. His eyes scanned the wall, and soon discovered a grated opening a few feet off the ground. He approached it and slashed at the corners where the grate was bolted to the structure. The Sword of Light cleaved the metal effortlessly, and the grate fell to the ground. Dane beckoned Kelly to follow, and crawled through the hole in the wall.
Shaking her head, Kelly entered the opening behind Dane. The twosome were in a dark, enclosed area, the dead space between the fortified exterior shell of the castle and the interior walls. Cables and wires choked much of the space, but there was enough room for Dane and Kelly to wend their way along until reaching an access door. The door's handle was on the opposite side of the wall, and locked, but another judicious application of the Sword of Light once again granted Dane and Kelly passage.
They emerged at the end of a curving corridor, and proceeded to follow it. The echoing of rapidly approaching footsteps indicated that their entrance to the castle had not gone entirely unnoticed. "Stay behind me," Dane commanded Kelly, as he took a few steps forward. A moment later, eight figures rounded the nearest curve of the hallway. All wore uniforms of purple, black and gold, which Dane recognized as Exodus's signature colors. The five men in the rear wore helmets obscuring their faces, and carried large black rifles. In the lead were two women and a man, in more stylized versions of the guards' uniforms. The leaders will all clearly old, none of them under sixty, yet they still retained their physical vitality. One woman had fair skin, and long light green hair with streaks of silver, and the other woman was Asian, with white hair cropped extremely short. The man was black, his head completely bald.
"Intruders located," the green-haired woman announced into a commlink on her uniform's shoulder. To the armed guards behind her, she said, "Only the two, we shouldn't need backup. Stand by."
With that, she thrust her hands toward Dane, and instantly he was levitated off the corridor floor. The bald man rushed toward Dane with one hand raised in a fist.
Kelly felt a foreign presence trying to enter her mind. Her mutant telepathy provided some natural defense, but as the force of the intrusion intensified, she found herself dropping to one knee as all of her will was directed to the mental battle. Dimly she could see the old oriental woman staring at her, and some kind of jagged psionic energy signature crowning her white hair.
Dane twisted his wrist and struck a glancing blow with the flat of the Sword of Light's blade against the charging man's arm. The man charged past, off-balance. Dane could feel that the power holding him aloft affected his armor alone, which confirmed his suspicion that the green-haired woman was the mutant called Polaris. Struggling against the magnetic energy cocoon in which he was caught, Dane raised the Shield of Night and placed it directly between himself and Polaris. The Shield began to absorb the magnetism and Dane was lowered once again to the floor. He willed the energy to transfer to the Sword of Light and held it high over his head. The guards' rifles flew out of their hands along the magnetic current emanating from the Sword, and as they neared Dane hacked each weapon to pieces.
Kelly struggled to resist the takeover of her mind by the other female mutant. Telepathically, Kelly came to understand that the old woman's name was Xi'an Coy Manh, that she had also been called Karma when some mutants had been heroes. All of the details of her life were laid out for Kelly, but there was so much pain and sorrow that Kelly reflexively pushed it all away. Xi'an Coy Manh had once been a formidable psionic, but she was old now and ill-treated by Exodus. Kelly's telepathic shove caused a mental backlash which dropped Karma to the floor.
The bald man behind Dane returned for another attack, but Dane braced himself and threw a chainmail-covered elbow into the man's midsection, then raised the fist holding the Sword to smash into the man's face. The man crumpled.
The Black Knight turned back to face Polaris, who fired a bolt of magnetic energy toward him. Once again Dane brought up his shield, this time deflecting the blast straight back at Polaris. The returning bolt slammed Polaris into the opposite wall. The remainder of the guards beat a hasty retreat.
"Are you all right?" Dane asked Kelly, crossing to her side.
Kelly nodded, catching her breath. "They ... they ... were forced to serve Exodus against their will. He held them in his thrall, tortured them to cement his hold on them. Made them kill mutants Exodus felt might be a threat. He constantly reminded them they were no threat at all. And they all were made to feel that they were disgraces to someone called Xavier ..."
Dane nodded grimly. "I never believed Exodus could embody so much cruelty."
"At least their suffering is about to end," Kelly offered. Pointing to the unconscious Asian woman, she said, "You should probably kill that one first. If she gets up and comes after you, you might not ..."
"I'm not going to kill any of them!" Dane snapped harshly.
"What?" Kelly asked in disbelief. "But they probably would have killed us! And we can't just leave them here, they might wake up and warn Exodus before we find him! You..."
"No," Dane shook his head emphatically. "We leave them be. I told you, I'm charged with fighting for what's right. I won't slaughter them just because that might be more convenient."
Kelly had no idea what to say. Of all the things Dane had done since she'd discovered him which surprised her, this was the most unbelievable. And yet the simplicity of the situation as he described it ... could there really ever have been a time when many, if not most people felt the same way as he did? When the human condition was something more than "every man for himself"? Kelly La Croi could barely imagine it, but as she followed Dane down the hallway, and into an elevator at the far end, she believed that a world like that would be wonderful.
The long table in the dining hall was laden with a sumptuous feast fit for royalty, appropriately enough for the two monarchs seated there. At the head of the table was the armored tyrant Victor Von Doom. To his side, almost intimately close to his regal presence, sat Margali Szardos, the Red Queen of the London Hellfire Club. Margali ate her meal without being overly impressed by the exotic delicacies. Instead, her eyes roved languidly around the room, taking in the priceless treasures decorating the room such as oil paintings, tapestries, and sculptures.
"Your collection of objets d'art is quite impressive, Lord Doom," Margali observed.
"Indeed," Von Doom agreed, biting into a poached quail egg. He chewed thoughtfully while maintaining eye contact with his guest, his intelligent brown eyes as hard and foreboding as the armored mask hiding the rest of his face. He spoke again, "There is precious little in this world which can be denied Doom, should I set myself to its acquisition. Precious little." Margali said nothing, and Von Doom approved of her courteous patience in awaiting the words of the ruler of Latveria. He continued, "Yet there is one thing which has eluded even me, which you claim to be able to provide."
As Von Doom's head inclined slightly toward Margali, indicated she was free to respond, she nodded, "That is correct, Lord Doom. Your mothe..."
Von Doom abruptly raised his hand in a warding gesture and insisted, "You will not speak of her to me again. However, you will explain to me how these petty political plottings for which you ask the assistance of Doom make any connection to that which you offer me."
Margali smiled and replied, "The connection, my lord, is Clive Winthrop. The Hellfire Club has forged an alliance with the man who will assuredly be the next Prime Minister of England. He will also ... grant the boon of which I spoke."
"I will not ask again," Doom promised in a darkening voice, "How?"
Margali stood up from her chair, and leaned across the corner of the dining table toward Von Doom. She lowered her face so that her cheek brushed the seam of his emerald green hood, and whispered the true name of Clive Winthrop to the Latverian monarch. Then she sat once again and awaited Von Doom's response.
"If what you say is a lie ..." Doom promised threateningly.
"Then it would gain me nothing," Margali interrupted. "I do not wish to deceive you, Lord Doom. I seek your help, and offer you what is within the Hellfire Club's power to offer in return."
Von Doom's heavy gauntlet clenched in a fist before Margali's eyes, then relaxed. "Very well," Doom assented, "you shall have my aid. Winthrop's England and Doom's Latveria shall be international allies, and neither country shall join the European Community or lend force to its standing army. Instead the soldiers of our two nations shall form one army to stand dominant astride the continent."
"And," Margali added, "your intellectual contributions will help the Hellfire Club deal with the Pendragons issue."
"Of course," Doom nodded. He regarded the beautiful, red-haired woman beside him as a dangerous viper, no matter if they were allied or opposing one another. In a matter of time, Doom knew, he would renege on the agreement they had just made. But not before Cynthia Von Doom was freed from the infernal realm.
The elevator doors slid open, and Dane and Kelly stepped out. The chamber they entered was tall, long and wide, with walls of polished bronze and a domed ceiling painted to resemble the heavens. The room was laid out like an exhibit in a museum, filled with glass cases, statues, and display racks. Several frames hung on the walls, containing photographs, paintings or mounted collections of smaller artifacts. On opposite sides of the elevator were the two nearest items: to the left, a wooden mannequin fitted with a cybernetic arm and leg, on a mahogany stand with a plaque reading "THE LIMBS OF FORGE"; to the right, a glass case four feet on a side, within which rested the head of the Sentinel Master Mold, one eye caved in from a presumably fatal wound.
"This must be Exodus's trophy room," Kelly whispered almost breathlessly, as the pair proceeded into the chamber. Her eyes darted around the room hungrily, her Tracker instincts seemingly controlling her in the midst of the priceless treasures all around. Dane scanned the room as well, looking for any sign of attack as they traversed the floor.
Suddenly, Kelly cried out in pain and threw her head back violently. Before Dane could react she flew backwards through the air, crashing into a pedestal in the corner of the room. Dane was about to run to her side when a familiar voice spoke from the far side of the chamber. "Finally, you have come. I always knew my supreme rule of this world would never be complete until we faced each other once again."
The Black Knight turned toward the sound of Exodus's voice. Exodus swept down the central aisle of the chamber, hovering slightly above the floor. He did not look a day older than the last time Dane had seen him, which hardly surprised the man who had known Exodus both during the Crusades and in the 20th century. He was dressed in black, with purple boots, bracers and sashes. Golden trim lined his raiment, along with a golden breastplate that wrapped over his shoulders, topped with ornate wing-like flares. His long black and purple cape fluttered as he approached Dane. In his hand Exodus held a massive scimitar, nearly as long as he was tall.
Dane flexed the fingers around the hilt of his Sword of Light. "Your 'supreme rule' is a travesty, Bennet. It will become complete after we've faced each other only in the sense that it will be completely over!"
Exodus chuckled, alighting on the floor mere feet in front of the Black Knight. "Dane, you have not changed at all. I was fairly certain it really was you. I dispatched a few of my older underlings to meet you, and watched the way you conducted yourself in battle, which left little doubt in my mind."
"You would send your servants into unknown harm merely to satisfy a curiosity?" Dane asked.
"Of course," Exodus waved the question away. "Just as I had the palace guards who retreated from you executed for treason. Just as I will inter the older mutants for torture due to their failure. Such is my power and authority here."
"You used to be a religious man," Dane shook his head. "Now you're a cruel monster."
Malice shone in Exodus's eyes. "And you are still the same victim of your own naïveté, clinging to your notions of absolute right and wrong. And that is how I know beyond any doubt who you are, Dane Whitman."
"Then you know my obligation to bring ... you ... down," Dane answered, slowly raising his sword.
Exodus answered only with a small, wry smile, and hefted his scimitar high over his head, to bring it crashing down on Dane. Dane swiftly placed the Shield of night in the scimitar's path, blocking the weapon's resounding blow. The impact forced Dane down to one knee.
Dane shoved the scimitar aside with his shield and rolled to the side, against a nearby display case. He circumnavigated the glass structure and came up on his feet with the Sword of Light stabbing at Exodus. Exodus parried the attack with a low sweep of his scimitar, which arced upward and slashed down at Dane again. Now it was the Black Knight's turn to parry, as he hacked at Exodus's curved blade to block the massive sword.
Dane put his full weight into the parry, driving the tip of the scimitar to the floor. He set his boot against the flat of the blade and chopped his own sword parallel to the floor toward Exodus's head. Exodus leaned back, the Sword of Light missing his face by an inch, the wrested his scimitar out from under Dane's bootheel.
The two weapons flashed sparks and rang cacophonously in the trophy room's air. Dane alternated blocks with his shield and parries with his sword, moving swiftly to stay ahead of Exodus, who hammered at his opponent with the gigantic scimitar. Metal struck blow after blow upon metal. Exodus finally opened Dane's defenses enough to wound him, rending the armor and drawing blood on the outside of Dane's right thigh.
Dane staggered backwards, and his shoulder collided with a shelf, which held bejeweled crystal urns purportedly containing the ashes of Exodus's foes. With a sweep of his shield, Dane flung all of the urns toward Exodus. Exodus never took his eyes of the Black Knight, shattering the projectiles with a flick of his hands and an accompanying psionic wave. He advanced on Dane, who gritted his teeth against the pain in his leg and moved forward to meet him.
"What are you really here for, old friend?" Exodus taunted, his scimitar slicing through the air at Dane to be blocked by the Shield of Night.
Dane lunged forward with his sword and replied, "To end your reign of terror." Exodus sidestepped the attack, and lashed out with his blade.
"Do you expect to beat me into submission?" Exodus pressed as Dane rolled under the scimitar. "Imprison me, and assume you can save this world from plunging into utter chaos without my hand to guide it? Knowing I will find a way to escape any bondage to reclaim my rightful place as God-King of the Earth?"
"No man or mutant has the right to place himself as a tyrant above all," Dane insisted.
"You lack the stomach for enforcing that stance, my friend," Exodus leered knowingly, his scimitar speeding toward Dane's head like a curved guillotine. "Only death can depose me."
"If that's how it must be," Dane conceded, his Sword of Light moving in a lightning-fast zigzag. He parried the scimitar on the left, feinted to the right, and stabbed to the left again, his blade biting deep into Exodus's right shoulder.
Exodus cried out in pain and snarled furiously at Dane. His eyes glowed red and psionic eyebeams lanced toward Dane, blasting him across the room. Exodus sprinted toward Dane, hefting the scimitar over his head, while Dane tried to shake the effects of the psi-bolt from his head. Exodus bellowed as he brought the scimitar down, intent on burying it in Dane's black helm, but Dane was able to move the Shield of Night into its path at the last moment. As Exodus was leaning over Dane's prone form, the Black Knight brought up both legs and kicked Exodus in the stomach, flipping him onto his back. Dane scrambled to his feet, backpedaling away from Exodus.
Exodus burst into flight from his resting place on the ground, spreading his arms wide as he approached Dane airborne. Exodus's sword smashed several display cases and beheaded a statue of what may have been a further mutation of the She-Hulk, but Exodus paid the damage no heed. Closing on Dane, Exodus's eyes became fiery red once again.
This time Dane was prepared, and lifted the Shield of Night, absorbing the twin beams of psionic energy. The energy was channeled through the Sword of Light and fired back at Exodus. The feedback was not damaging to Exodus's mind, but served as enough of a distraction that Exodus flew past Dane without delivering a blow.
Exodus looped around in the air, knocking over a stand of weapons in his path, and bore down on the Black Knight once again. Dane braced himself with his weight on his back foot, turning his left arm carrying the Shield toward Exodus, his Sword held out behind him. Exodus gripped the hilt of his scimitar in both hands as he barreled toward Dane. Dane stared down the mad despot, and without warning shifted his weight forward and threw the Shield of Night at Exodus with all his might. Exodus batted the Shield away, and while his scimitar was off-center Dane leapt forward, plunging the Sword of Light into Exodus's heart.
Exodus crashed to the floor, writhing in agony. His screams were horrific, as dark arterial blood flowed from the wound and bright red tendrils of psionic energy flailed wildly around his skull, scorching the walls and nearby artifacts. The killing blow was so swift and severe, however, that Exodus's death throes were brief, and soon he was still.
Dane stood for a moment, trying to unclench the knot in his chest with deep breaths, then walked toward his fallen adversary. Dane gripped the hilt of the Sword and pulled it loose from Exodus's ribs. Looking down at Exodus, Dane regretted the necessity of slaying the man he had once called a friend, centuries ago. He knew that, as Exodus himself had said, this was the only possible way to liberate the future. The pain in his heart took little comfort from that knowledge.
Dane crossed the room, stepping over the wrecked displays, to the corner where Kelly had landed earlier. He found her, and she seemed relatively unharmed. He crouched before her and took her face in his hand. "Kelly? Kelly, can you hear me?"
Kelly's eyes fluttered open. "Yeah ... wha'happened?"
"It's over. Your world is free of Exodus, forever."
Kelly smiled, wanting to cynically denounce what she was hearing but unable to do anything other than smile. Dane helped her to her feet, then moved across the room to retrieve the Shield of Night.
In a pile of broken glass and wood, Dane spied his shield. As he lifted it from the debris, he noticed a glowing object that had come to rest beneath it. Dane lifted it from the floor, recognizing it as a pocketwatch, and on a deep, nearly sub-conscious level, recognizing it as one that he had encountered before. He tried to place the memory, but only felt a growing sense of connection without specific details in his mind. The eerie subliminal recognition was soon joined by another familiar sensation. The Black Knight could feel himself being drawn through time.
Dane turned toward Kelly even as the chronal energy began to suffuse his body. "Kelly," he said, "thank you. Thank you for believing in me. I hope it was worth it. I think I've found my way back to my time. Be sure everyone knows that they no longer have to live in fear ..." and with that he slipped backwards through the timestream and faded from sight.
"Good-bye, Dane Whitman," Kelly said softly. "Nice knowing you." She sighed and looked around Exodus's trophy room. So many valuables, enough to make the rest of her life more comfortable than she had ever thought possible. The key would be to gather the most wealth in the smallest number of items, since she had only her own two arms to carry anything out.
As she mentally appraised item after item, she came across a sword, its well-maintained blade etched with black runes, and its hilt inset with obsidian facets. She took it up, and considered that perhaps making her life more comfortable was not the most important thing she could do now. Perhaps even with Exodus's reign ended, the world around her needed a new age of heroes. A new Black Knight to defend its people from those who would exploit the weak.
"I do believe I've been inspired," Kelly La Croi smiled, testing the feel of the sword in her hands and finding it undeniably right.
Sersi stood on the balcony of the master bedroom and contemplated flying off. The destination did not matter to her in the least. But if Dane were gone forever, remaining in his old, drafty castle could only cause her grief to be prolonged. She could never forget him, but might at least dull the pain by distancing herself from memories of him once again.
"Sersi?" From within the bedroom, which she knew to be empty. She turned around and saw Dane standing there before the bed, his helmet in his hand. In a flash she had run into his arms and kissed him passionately.
Dane broke the kiss, and began to speak. "Sersi, I know I ..."
"Shhh," Sersi urged, placing one of her fingers against his lips. "Kiss me now, because in about thirty seconds I'm going to get over being glad to see you, remember how furious I am at you, and make absolutely certain you never pigheadedly ditch me again."
This time Dane made no argument as her lips found his again.
The timepiece was once again possessed by the living chronal conduit called Dane Whitman, the Black Knight. The tachyon circuit was complete, piercing the veil of this timeline and allowing entry to one who had previously been denied at every attempt. As the bearded, robed figure floated in the thinnest reaches of the atmosphere, gazing upon the sprawling globe beneath him, he wondered idly what made this timeline, this Earth, so unique as to lay beyond his power to reach alone. He intended to find out, now that he had gained the access he had sought for so long. He would know the secrets of this branch of the timestream, for now it lay open before him. In that regard, Dane Whitman had served Immortus well.
Next Issue : The return of Barry Reese as full writer and ... new exciting chapters in the life of Dane Whitman!