Dragon's Claws #34

"Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. "
- Aleister Crowley, Book of the Law

The unlikely alliance fled through what remained of Limbo, the land without time becoming more a wasteland without time since it had collapsed in on itself. Space Phantoms had become more formless than anything, shaped by the greatest will present to become whatever twisted representations were in the mind of their ruler. They had a simple existence – kill for food, procreate, sleep. They had become base creatures, less than they had ever been, transformed in to shapeless hulks that hunted their prey.

The four heroes were tired, run ragged, but they could not stop for long, taking only moments to turn and attack as the enemy got too close, and then they were on their way once more. Pen Dragon, Pete Wisdom, Wynter and Elsa Bloodstone hurried through the jagged canyons that had been formed; looking for the one place that they hoped would be safe, guided by the medallion that Kate-Pryde Rasputin had once given Pen for contacting her, now used as a homing device to locate the computers that had created the medallion. Of course, the secret fears that if the computers were wrong, or the fortress at the heart of Limbo was no longer secure was in their minds, however none of them wanted to focus on that. If they could not escape this place, they would all certainly die a horrid and painful death. All but Elsa had long-range attacks of one kind or another and they were able to keep the pursuing Space Phantoms.

“How many of these things are there?” asked Elsa as she paused to watch the latest barrage of hot knives, mystic blades and eldritch discharges that were fired off in order to push their chasers back.

“Depends how long they’ve been here,” said Wynter, with concern. “We don’t even know when we might be, this could be some time after Limbo materialised here, or it could be what we would see as centuries. There could be hundreds or hundreds of thousands”

“Inspirational,” Pen said, “well done.” He looked up. “If I’m right, it’s not far now.”

“How is it working?” said Pete to his doppelganger. “It’s just a St Christopher, not a palm pilot or anything.”

“Pulses,” Dragon answered. “The closer we are the stronger the pulse, and when we started I just pointed it until I felt the pulse start, which is how I know where we’re going. I’ve… gotten lost in Limbo before.”

“I hope you don’t get nervous,” said Elsa, with a smile. “Be a shame to just be following the beat of your heart.”

“Tell me about it,” he answered with a wink. They’d caught their breath for the moment and the Phantoms were some way off for now. “Let’s go.”

On Otherworld he sat in meditation at the memorial that had been erected in honour of Brian Braddock and all those who had fallen in the assault by Kang. He had not known him as long as some, but he had fought beside him. Brian Braddock had been a man of great courage, honour and distinction and he mourned his loss. Brian had not been the first Captain Britain who had been his friend and had died, and he knew he would not be the last. It was the way of things. He had been summoned here at Braddock’s request some time ago, working to train new heroes in the way of combat, showing them things that Brian had never been able to find time to learn himself.

Upon his death, his sister had taken the throne of Otherworld and he had remained. She had a new way and, as yet, he was unsure if he was a part of her grand design. There was much to be done and he needed to be useful again. The mystic swords of Zz’ria were by his side and they lay dormant, waiting for the call to action once more. The enchantments upon them ensured they would only harm those who were not pure of heart, and they had a powerful effect on mystic energies, and his fighting abilities were enhanced by his leonoid appearance. His eyesight was akin to that of an animal, and while he looked like a mighty warrior, he had trained long and hard to maintain this physique, to build himself up to be a strong and powerful warrior and compensate for his mutant ability to precisely replicate any sound he heard with his vocal chords. If not for his training and skills, he would just be another deformed freak, a misshapen mutant who would have been derided and scorned. Fortunately he had been denied that life, or worse, by travelling through a portal to another Earth, where he had spent twenty years of his life growing form a small, weak child, in to a grown warrior.

Colin McKay, known as Kylun to his friends but Colin to his parents, had had no place on Earth, but now that magick was becoming the normal state of the world, perhaps he could go home. His true love Sateen was buried at Braddock Manor, his parents were in Scotland and maybe he would find purpose with his swords once more if Queen Elisabeth no longer required his services. A noise alerted him, so he swiftly turned to see Meggan standing there, and as he rose, he bowed to her.

“My lady,” he said but she smiled and put her hand upon his shoulder.

“Kylun, you don’t need to treat me like that,” she said. “We’re friends.” He smiled. “You come here often?”

“When I need to think,” he answered. “I sometimes wonder if I could be as strong as he was.”

“You are one of the strongest men he knew,” she said. “That’s why he trusted you to train the next generation of Captains, those who needed it anyway.” She brushed her hand over the marble monument. “I miss him. I miss the way he sparkled before he became King Britain, and I miss the way he shone afterwards. And not because of the power he had.”

“I know,” said Kylun. “The lights of the Alshra.”

“It is different here, so alive, so vibrant, but at the same time it is empty.” He looked at her, but said nothing, letting her speak. “I have lost so much here, a child, a husband, a life. I don’t know where I fit anymore. I’m lost without him.”

“I know the feeling well,” he said. “After Sateen died, and I found myself with you all, I knew I didn’t belong there. Not as a part of the world that you belonged to. It was why I left, why I…” He stopped talking as, at the edge of his battle-honed senses, he felt something out there, a tugging at a part of his soul that he thought dormant. It was a familiar feeling as well, but not in a good sense. “Where are you?” he muttered and looked about, looking for whatever had stirred him.

“What is it?” she asked, concerned not just for her friend, but also for the kingdom that her Brian had sacrificed so much to protect.

“I don’t know,” Kylun said. “It was…” He placed his hands on the sword that hung from the right side of his belt and he felt it more strongly. There was a powerful and dark force, bordering on their reality and the swords were responding in kind. He looked at Meggan. “Something is coming. Someone.”

“We must tell Betsy,” Meggan answered. “Otherworld may not be able to withstand another sustained attack so soon.” Her feature altered as she assumed her true form in order to see reality as it should be, and she was aware of a darkness within the lights, probing for a way to materialise fully. It was just outside the realm, but it was coming. All paths led to Otherworld and if the Alshra was being affected by the darkness, then it was closer than any of them would like. “We don’t have much time.”

They hurried for the House Braddock and hoped that it was not too late.

“Hallelujah,” said Pen as they approached the familiar spires of the place he had spent a lot of time in after he had become exiled from his own timeline, before he had gone to Earth in order to stop the Martians from taking over. “I just hope we can find Kate and she can sort things out.” It was the one loose end he had to finish and then he’d be free to fight the Time War

“It’s never that easy,” said Pete as they wandered. “You watch, there’ll be a powerful villain waiting in there to pounce and use us for his own evil ends. Every bloody time I get involved in a caper like this, it ends up like that.”

“You’re probably right,” said Pen. “Tell, you what, you can stay here if you like.”

“Hell no,” came the answer and Pen smiled. It was the same answer he’d have given if the situation was reversed.

“Right, let’s get this door open!” The four of them put their strength in to opening the door. Without the technology to open it for them, it was down to brute force and then they’d have to close it again. It barely shifted, sliding only slightly.

“Hurry,” said Wynter, “they’re almost here.” There was a narrow gap formed and that was the best they could do, and the four of them they squeezed through the gap one by one and then they tired closing it again, but it was just as hard. “Using too much magic here,” Wynter grumbled as he cast a spell that slammed the door shut. Trapping mystical energy in this realm was not good on any level, but they had no other choice. For now, they were safe and they breathed a sigh of relief, but they all realised that this was not a good place to be.

The air was stale; the only sound to be heard was that of their breathing and a faint drip, drip, drip in the distance. This was not a seat of power or majesty as it had once been. It was a ruined shade of its former self, the technology mostly inert and corroding. Rubble littered the corridors and there was a dank stench within the place.

“I hope the inner sanctum has fared better,” Pen said as he and Pete fired up a set of hot knives to light the way. They made their way through the complex and Wynter stopped a moment.

“I sense something here, something wrong. Malevolent.” Pen looked at him. “I think Pete might be right. Considering how we were brought here, I think we might have a problem.”

“Wonderful,” Pen said, shaking his head. “As if we don’t have enough to worry about…”

“Belasco,” said Pete. “Where does he fit in to this? He’s going to end up ruling this place, so where’s he gone?”

“You mean where did he come from,” Pen said. “I don’t know and bearing in mind I’m the only one here who’s not magically inclined, I’m not too sure I want to find out.” There then came a consistent pounding as the Space Phantoms attempted to break in to the building, and the doorway would not keep them out long – there were too many and it was too sustained. “Let’s get to the main part and see what the hell we can do to get out of here,” he said, thinking that the technology here was too powerful to be simply left. He didn’t like the idea of killing Widget, but with the approach of the Time War, he didn’t want to leave this kind of thing in play.

They made their way to the inner chamber, where Pen gave a shiver. It hadn’t been that long since he had been here, relatively speaking. The computer systems seemed almost inert, save for a few internal workings that were up and active. He went to the consoles and tired to do things, but there was nothing. It was as if someone had gone out of his or her way to destroy everything here. There were no files he could find, no traces of Widget, nothing to indicate that he had ever been here, save for the technological interfaces. The time scanners were destroyed and now he knew why this place was silent. The technology that powered this place was just less than designer junk, except for one small console, still active.

“A backup system,” said Pen as he knelt by it. Someone had done something to it make it work in such a way that meant they had wired it up so that it could run limited functions from a remote location. It was basic, but effective, but it meant that there was someone else here and where was Kate? It needed someone with a good knowledge of the systems here, someone who had done all these things before, and he wondered. “Kang?”

“Kang?” asked Wynter. “He’s dead.”

“Like that’s stopped him before,” said Pen. “It could be he’s here, running things. We don’t know that when Betsy stopped him, she stopped him permanently. Think about it, she said the last thing she sensed was Brian before he died. What if Kang had fled?”

“Kang was an amateur, compared to me,” said a voice and they turned to see a bald headed man, wearing resplendent robes standing before them, and in seconds Pen’s hot knives were active.

“YOU?!” he shouted, firing them off but the man waved his hand and they were deflected. “It can’t be...”

“It’s amazing what you can live through,” the wizard sneered. The others were too slow to react and he quickly cast a spell holding them in place, unable to move.

“The son of Merlyn,” said the wizard. “How I have waited for a moment such as this.”

“Who are you?” Wynter said, trying to find a counter spell.

“I am Necrom,” the created replied. “However you may call me ‘Master’.” The four of them dropped to their knees before him. “Allow me to assure you that my resurrection was much easier than you would imagine. After I my body was slaughtered by Brian Braddock and my consciousness held captive by the alternate version of his sister, I had thought I was doomed, however the psi-witch was not prepared for my power and in your concern for Adam Destine, I managed to escape her thrall and enter the body of one of the Space Phantoms. My power was weak, but growing and I knew very well that I would not be found, for you were no longer looking for me.”

“I’m going to kill you again, you bastard,” Pen said.

“SILENCE!” shouted Necrom and Pen’s voice vanished. “Much better. I used the knowledge these creatures possessed to learn and develop, remaining hidden until the time was right. A move at the wrong moment would have alerted Merlyn to my presence once more and I could not allow that. Imagine my delight when Kang’s machinations paid off, leaving the fortress to me and me alone, and then Limbo began to collapse on itself. Fortuitous events.”

“Where’s Kate?” asked Wynter, trying to keep him focused on his own ego and not the fact that Wynter was trying to find a way to free them all.

“Here,” he said and he held up a small pendant. “Trapped within this jewel, a prisoner of a technological stasis courtesy of Lady Ravonna. She makes for a fine ornament; however it is not the prize I seek.” He crossed to Pen and ripped the medallion from around his neck. “This, the last piece of technology, the one part that Kang could not destroy. The key to restoring the machinery of Limbo.” Pen could utter no words, but the ferocity in his eyes said everything he needed to, then the Space Phantoms broke in, but before they could attack, Necrom looked at them and they stopped in their tracks and bowed to him. “My army of Space Phantoms. They are mine to command, for I alone have the will.” He looked at Elsa. “A bloodstone?” he held the choker in his grasp and pulled it from her. “An even rarer prize. Thank you, my dear.” He wrapped the choker around his wrist and smiled. Then he wandered to the dead consoles and placed the medallion in to a small hold on one of the panels and slowly but surely the technology began to return to life.

“You know you’ll never get away with this,” Pete said. “You’re not destined to rule Limbo.”

“That’s an interesting point,” Necrom agreed. “However with the Time War that is imminent, there is no such thing as paradox. I could go back in Time, cut Brian Braddock’s throat when he was a baby, and nothing would happen, other than he would become a temporal anomaly in the present. If he had lived, that is. As it stands, I shall have to make do with his sister. I am sure there are many, many ways she will be able to entertain me.” He looked to his Space Phantoms, who were taking the form of demonic hordes. “Once I battled the creatures of the Bane, creatures such as these. I will do so again, but with a far greater power than the Bane has ever known.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” said Wynter, “but I’m not going to let that happen.” He uttered a counter spell and he and the others were freed, but were immediately swarmed on by the Space Phantoms

“Bastard’s mine!” said Wisdom, finding a way through and he fired his mystic knives at the wizard, who couldn’t deflect them, the power cutting through his own magic and striking him through the vital organs. Necrom laughed as he drew on the power within the Bloodstone to sustain him.

“Not this time,” he said and he waved his hand and the four heroes were turned in to marble statues. “You’re more trouble than you are worth, however I shall deal with you later.” Then he smiled, looking at Wynter. “Except you.” He struck with his fist and Wynter shattered, and lay in pieces on the floor. “Let’s see how Merlyn reacts to the death of his son.” He pressed a button on the console and a portal opened and rallied his troops.

“ONWARDS TO OTHERWORLD!”