We're trying something new here at MUTF. These days everything in our lives are becoming more dynamic. Cell phone are not just portable anymore, they also access the internet and have become our personal boom boxes. Going on a road trip isn't the interesting part of the drive as much as it is playing Playstation in the back seat.
The internet has become even more dynamic and interactive as well. Online radio stations now use podcast technology to send the latest shows to your desktop. Websites now are becoming more forum/blog enabled to link readers. We have decided to try this as well. MUTF will now be using the concept of blogging to post new stories and allow our fans to provide instant feedback to our stories and to other fans. The site is just thrown together right now but we plan to change it as our needs change. Let us know how you like it!
~~
Mop-Boy
Monday, February 28, 2005
The New Face of Marvel Universe: Transformed
Thursday, November 21, 2002
Transformers # 9 - S.O.S.
Transformers
The Transformers: powerful warrior robots waging a never-ending battle across space and time. Autobots and Decepticons, fighting a war of long-forgotten ideologies, now trapped in a cycle of violence that threatens to consume them all. They have traveled across the ages from their homeworld of Cybertron to a blue-green orb we know as the Earth. But this is not the Earth we know; it is a world transformed, a place of mutants, superheroes, and villains. It is a world where nothing is as it seems. . .and these alien robots will soon find that those they thought were allies and enemies are not. They will find that there are greater threats than each other. . .
Issue #9: The Phalanx Ascension part 2 "S.O.S."
By: Wes A.
------------------------------
Autobase, underground Cybertron
The chamber of the Autobot Elders was abuzz with talk. It was not only the 12 Elders who were there, but also Fortress Maximus, Ultra Magnus, and Elita-1. Everyone in the room was talking with one another, with the head Elder Emirate Xaaron trying to bring order. Off in the corner of the room, Ultra Magnus merely sat in a chair, watching all of the Autobot leaders settle themselves down.
"Everyone, please be silent," said Xaaron, "We’ll review the message again."
Xaaron turned toward a large screen behind the large table where the 12 Elders were seated. With the push of a button, the screen came to life. A simulated picture of Blaster’s face came upon the screen. It was an encoded message from the Autobot that was received a few short hours ago.
"This is Autobot Comm officer Blaster. Code Red! Repeat: Code Red! We have reached our destination via the Space Bridge and are on a planet called Earth. The Decepticons have built a city on this planet, with the presumed dead Decepticon Shockwave in command. A techno-virus known as the Phalanx has assimilated the city and all the Decepticons inside it. If this virus reaches Cybertron, it can potentially take over the entire planet. We need back-up ASAP! Repeat, we need back-up ASAP!"
The image faded away. There was a grim silence in the room. Xaaron turned off the screen.
"He’s right," said Elita-1 grimly, "If a techno-virus gets to Cybertron, it could be disastrous. The Decepticons are in low-supply of Cybertronium, they’d be the perfect targets."
"We’re not going to let that happen," stated Xaaron.
"What exactly do you have in mind?" asked Fortress Maximus.
"We’re going to gain access to the Space Bridge and send a strike team to the Earth. The team will be armed with anti-tech virus weaponry and help retake the city."
"I take it we aren’t to be asking the ‘Cons for help on this?" piped up Ultra Magnus.
Xaaron shook his head. "There’s no time. Plus, I doubt the Decepticons even know that their outpost has been overrun. The minute they open the Space Bridge, the virus would have a chance to get through. We can’t risk it."
"Ah," said Ultra Magnus, "And who will be leading the team across the Space Bridge, if you don’t mind me asking."
"You will."
Ultra Magnus stared at Xaaron for a moment, neither saying a word. "Well, sounds good to me."
------------------------------
"You’ve got to be kidding me, we just did this routine!!"
Magnus closed his optics for a moment, letting his troops get their anger out of their systems. The Wreckers were Ultra Magnus’s personal troops, the best in the Autobot army. The team consisted of Ultra Magnus, his second in command Impactor, Springer, the Jumpstarters Topspin and Twin Twist, Rack and Ruin, and Whirl and Roadbuster. Just a few weeks ago, the Wreckers had attacked the Decepticon capital of Polyhex to allow Blaster’s group access to the Space Bridge* (* see A World Transformed #3 for details). Now they were being asked to do so again.
"I’m serious Magnus, it’s just suicide to try this again," said the Triple-Changer named Springer.
"He knows that Springer," said Impactor.
"Yeah Springer, just relax," said Rack while polishing a plasma rifle, "We kicked Decepticon skid plate before, we can do it again. What’re you so worried about?"
"I’m worried about getting blown to a dozen pieces by a squad of Vehicons, that’s what," said Springer.
Rack just gave Springer a dirty look and muttered, "Aw you’re never any fun."
Magnus raised his hand, indicating for the Wreckers to be silent. "Springer, I know how you feel, but you have to remember that we’re the most qualified unit for the job. The Aerialbots are still off-planet raiding the Decepticon’s energon facility on Talos 7, so the mission automatically falls into our hands. It’s as simple as that. You‘re free to decline the mission, if you wish."
Springer let out a frustrated sigh. "I’ll take the mission Magnus, you know that."
Magnus smiled at his fellow Wrecker, "I know, I just wanted to lay the guilt trip on you anyway. Now everybody get yourselves ready. We head out in half an hour."
------------------------------
Magnus walked down the halls of the hidden Autobase. The base was several miles beneath the surface of Cybertron, deep in the lost levels of the planet. Billions of years ago, the older Transformer races inhabited these levels. Over time though, other layers were built over it. It was almost as if the past had just disappeared.
Magnus looked at the faces of the other Autobot’s he passed in the hall. Their faces had different looks on them. They were looks of hope and determination. Ever since the Ark went missing, the moral of the army had slowly declined. But following the announcement of the Ark’s founding and the defeat of Straxus, the Autobot’s had renewed vigor for battle and determination to retake their home.
"It’s funny, no matter how many times I put my skidplate on the line for Xaaron and his pals, they keep asking me to do it. And you wanna know the funny part? I keep saying yes. Some people never learn I suppose."
Magnus came to a halt. He turned around to see the battle-scarred form of an older gray and blue Autobot standing before him. The older Transformer gave Magnus a smile.
"Hey Magnus, long time no see."
"Kup!"
The two Autobot’s enthusiastically gave each other a slap on the shoulder and shook hands. Both had wide smiles on their faces.
"Hey old timer, how’ve you been?" asked Magnus.
"Who you callin’ ‘old timer’? I’ve told you before, I’m ‘well aged’."
"I thought you and your squadron was still on the other side of Cybertron raiding the ‘Cons space ports. When did your team get back to Cybertron?"
"Just yesterday. Been busy at the med center. I tell ya, those upgraded Vehicons put up a hell of a fight."
"Tell me about it. So the Elders have you on a job already?"
"Yeah. Actually, we’ve been assigned to go through the Space Bridge to Earth."
Magnus’s optics raised a bit. "Really? Well, at least they got the right team for the mission."
"Yer telling’ me. You on your way to the armory?" Magnus nodded. Kup tilted his head toward the direction down the hall where the Autobot armory was located. "Come on, I’m going there myself. I hear that they have some special weaponry lined up for this mission."
------------------------------
Earth, Australian Outback
"Are you sure these are the right coordinates, Starscream?"
"Don’t worry, just land when I give the order."
High in the sky, Starscream and Skywarp were in their jet modes flying over the desert stretch of the Australian Outback. The Casseticon Ravage sat in Skywarp’s cockpit. For several hours the jets had been flying. They had just left the Phalanx-assimilate Nemesis and Starscream and insisted that they travel to this location. Skywarp didn’t know what was so important about it, but as long as it meant staying away from the Phalanx, he was fine with it.
The two jets finally landed near a large rock formation. Ravage hopped out of Skywarp before the two jets transformed into their gigantic robot forms.
"Who goes there?"
The trio turned around to see the Constructicon’s Mixmaster and Hook each standing with a plasma rifle pointed at them. When he saw his fellow Decepticons, Hook lowered his gun.
"Starscream, what are you doing here?" asked Hook.
"I’m afraid your mission has been cut a bit short, Hook. The Nemesis has been taken over by a techno-virus, along with Megatron and all the other Decepticons," informed Starscream.
"A techno-virus? On this little planet?! That’s hard to imagine," snorted Mixmaster, "These fleshlings are still dependent on fossil fuels, there’s no way they could create a techno-virus."
"[I doubt the virus was manufactured on Earth. This virus was highly advanced, like nothing I have ever seen,]" growled Ravage, whose speech was translated with the others built-in translators.
"Despite its origins," continued Starscream, "We believe we know of some...allies. But in order to combat the techno-virus, we need Cybertronium."
"That will be no problem," said Hook confidently, "follow us."
The two Contructicons led their Decepticon companions to the rock formation and down a tunnel. After traveling several meters, they came to a lit area. When they got there, Skywarp could see a cobbled together power generator providing light. Also in the area were the other Contructicons: Bonecrusher, Long Haul, Scrapper, and Scavenger. Bonecrusher, the Contructicon leader, nodded his head in a form of salute to Starscream. The Seeker commander did likewise.
"Starscream, what brings you here?"
After a moment, the rest of the Contructicons were filled in on the story of the Nemesis.
"Well, you don’t have to worry," said Bonecrusher walking over to a large bin in the corner of the room, "because we are in full supply of Cybertronium."
Bonecrusher opened the bin and Skywarp saw several dozen canisters of Cybertronium, each bearing a Decepticon insignia.
"Where did you get them all?" asked the obsidian colored Seeker.
"Megatron knew that some of the Cybertronium in the Nemesis had fallen out in the crash-landing on this planet. So before he left, he instructed us to travel this planet to collect as much as possible. As luck would have it, most of the Cybertronium landed near this continent the fleshlings call Australia," finished Bonecrusher.
Starscream picked up one of the canisters and a sly grin crossed his face. "Excellent. Prepare your troops Bonecrusher, we make our move soon."
------------------------------
Black Hills, North Dakota
Despite all his time with humans, he knew that there were still concepts that he did not understand. He knew love. He was positive that he did. For years, he had loved and been loved in return by Wanda. Love, kindness, compassion, he knew them. But now he began to know darker concepts. Hate, fury, and fear.
He sat on the tops of one of the edges, gazing out at the beautiful scenery before him. He had once heard Dane Whitman, the Black Knight, talk about this area once before. Dane said that it was beautiful land. Although he couldn’t enjoy it as much as Dane, the Vision could still admire it, in his own way.
It had been over a month since the change had taken him* (*See Neoknights #6). The experience was very odd, unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Some sort of...virus had infected him. He had changed, transformed into something else. Even now, he could only remember brief bits of what happened, but he knew that he did not like the transformation. Since that day, he has spent a great deal of time trying to find out what happened. He had Hank Pym, better known as Giant-Man and Ant-Man, run a sweep of all his systems, but there were no excess programs found. Recently he has taken a leave of absence from the Avengers to figure out what this new part of him was and why it had taken form within him.
"Excuse me, are you the Vision?"
The yellow and green synthezoid turned around to see a family of six standing several feet away from him, big smiles on their faces. What was so strange was that he hadn’t detected the family’s approach, his advanced audio systems should have at least picked up their footsteps. A small boy, no older than 10, held out a notepad.
"Can I have your autograph Mr. Vision, please?"
Vision conducted a scan of the family and quickly found that they were not human. Their outer appearances looked human, but they were actually technologically made. After a quick scan of his databanks, he concluded that the technology was unlike any he had ever seen.
"I think that you want more than an autograph," said the Vision, "And you no longer need to continue your illusion. I know that you aren’t human."
The family’s appearance dissolved into that of yellow and black Phalanx drones. Three of the drones charged. Vision’s body became immaterial, causing them to simply pass right through him. He re-materialized himself and opened fire with his eyebeam lasers at full power. Two of the drones were disintegrated.
"You cannot defeat us Vision. You will be added to our consciousness," said another drone as it charged him with an elongated claw hand.
Vision hit the drone with a punch, knocking its head off. As the severed Phalanx head merely rolled onto the ground, the other three drones charged. Vision hit another one with his eyebeams, disintegrating it. Another ran at him, its hand morphed into a spiked club. The club hit Vision, but merely caused a scratch.
"That was unwise," Vision instructed the drone.
Within a moment, the drone joined its brothers as disintegrated particles. Finally, there was one drone left. Vision approached it calmly.
"You will tell me who you are and why you’ve attacked me."
"Negative," came a voice behind Vision.
It was the drone whose head was knocked off. It had reconstructed itself and rammed its hand into Vision, beginning the infection.
‘Warning...foreign virus infecting systems,’ said Vision’s internal computer.
As Vision looked down to see the abdomen shift into that of a Phalanx drone’s, he felt the change come over him again. His entire body erupted in flame, melting away the Phalanx infection. The two drones saw as Vision’s entire body turned into a metallic black covering, his cape likewise turning to blackness, and a chain running across his chest. The yellow diamond remained on his chest, but his head was no longer as it was. It was now a human skull, surrounded in flame, even after the flames all over the rest of his body were gone. The drones were silent as this new entity looked towards them. This was no longer the Vision; this was the Ghost Rider.
"You seek to destroy my host body, and thus interject on my mission. For that, you will feel the pain of hellfire."
With his right hand, the Ghost Rider shot out a stream of fireballs, hitting the drone that infected the Vision. With an inhuman shriek of pain, the drone was disintegrated. Grabbing the chain around his chest, Ghost Rider lassoed the other drone. Some of its body was likewise disintegrated, but for the most part remained intact. Ghost Rider leaned in toward the drones face.
"Now tell me: what are you and why did you attack the Vision?"
"We are Phalanx," said the drone in its monotone like voice, "The Vision is one of this planet’s most advanced technological beings. We sought to add it to our collective."
"Are there more of your ilk here on Earth?"
The drone nodded, "Affirmative."
Ghost Rider mentally tightened the chain around the drone‘s body, "Tell me where they are."
------------------------------
Mt. St. Hilary, United States
Trailbreaker, Cliffjumper, and Huffer lay on a hill that provided a good view of Mt. St. Hilary, yet provided enough cover. They looked down and saw the tail end of the Ark sticking out of the mountain, it’s yellow surface shimmering as if it had a life of its own.
Trailbreaker shook his head, "I don’t believe it."
"I told Prowl not to split everyone up, but NO, he had to do it. Now the Ark has been taken over and we‘re probably the only ones left," griped Cliffjumper.
"What’re we going to do?" asked Huffer with a concerned look.
"I have no idea," said Trailbreaker.
"We’re taking back the Ark, that’s what."
The three Autbot’s turned around to see the form of Mirage shimmer out of thin air. The Autobot spy had several canisters of Cybertronium in his arms.
"Mirage!" exclaimed Huffer, "What’s happened to the Ark?"
"It’s been taken over by a techno-organic life form calling itself the Phalanx. Every Autobot on the base has been assimilated. I barely made it out before they locked the base down. Just an hour ago, they finally got the human‘s military base too. I‘ve been waiting around to see if there were any late Autobot units showing up. Should have known it‘d be you three," finished Mirage with a grin.
"So I take it from your tone of voice you have a plan?" asked Cliffjumper.
"I’m working on it. But first, we’re going to need to call in some back-up."
Trailbreaker’s optics narrowed in confusion, "Who do you have in mind?"
"A group of the ‘superheroes’ I met. They’re called the Heroes for Hire."
To be continued...
Mirage and the remaining Autobots go seek the help of the Heroes for Hire in Heroes for Hire #10, the Phalanx Ascension continues in various MU:TF titles, and the Transformers battle with the Phalanx.
The Transformers: powerful warrior robots waging a never-ending battle across space and time. Autobots and Decepticons, fighting a war of long-forgotten ideologies, now trapped in a cycle of violence that threatens to consume them all. They have traveled across the ages from their homeworld of Cybertron to a blue-green orb we know as the Earth. But this is not the Earth we know; it is a world transformed, a place of mutants, superheroes, and villains. It is a world where nothing is as it seems. . .and these alien robots will soon find that those they thought were allies and enemies are not. They will find that there are greater threats than each other. . .
Issue #9: The Phalanx Ascension part 2 "S.O.S."
By: Wes A.
------------------------------
Autobase, underground Cybertron
The chamber of the Autobot Elders was abuzz with talk. It was not only the 12 Elders who were there, but also Fortress Maximus, Ultra Magnus, and Elita-1. Everyone in the room was talking with one another, with the head Elder Emirate Xaaron trying to bring order. Off in the corner of the room, Ultra Magnus merely sat in a chair, watching all of the Autobot leaders settle themselves down.
"Everyone, please be silent," said Xaaron, "We’ll review the message again."
Xaaron turned toward a large screen behind the large table where the 12 Elders were seated. With the push of a button, the screen came to life. A simulated picture of Blaster’s face came upon the screen. It was an encoded message from the Autobot that was received a few short hours ago.
"This is Autobot Comm officer Blaster. Code Red! Repeat: Code Red! We have reached our destination via the Space Bridge and are on a planet called Earth. The Decepticons have built a city on this planet, with the presumed dead Decepticon Shockwave in command. A techno-virus known as the Phalanx has assimilated the city and all the Decepticons inside it. If this virus reaches Cybertron, it can potentially take over the entire planet. We need back-up ASAP! Repeat, we need back-up ASAP!"
The image faded away. There was a grim silence in the room. Xaaron turned off the screen.
"He’s right," said Elita-1 grimly, "If a techno-virus gets to Cybertron, it could be disastrous. The Decepticons are in low-supply of Cybertronium, they’d be the perfect targets."
"We’re not going to let that happen," stated Xaaron.
"What exactly do you have in mind?" asked Fortress Maximus.
"We’re going to gain access to the Space Bridge and send a strike team to the Earth. The team will be armed with anti-tech virus weaponry and help retake the city."
"I take it we aren’t to be asking the ‘Cons for help on this?" piped up Ultra Magnus.
Xaaron shook his head. "There’s no time. Plus, I doubt the Decepticons even know that their outpost has been overrun. The minute they open the Space Bridge, the virus would have a chance to get through. We can’t risk it."
"Ah," said Ultra Magnus, "And who will be leading the team across the Space Bridge, if you don’t mind me asking."
"You will."
Ultra Magnus stared at Xaaron for a moment, neither saying a word. "Well, sounds good to me."
------------------------------
"You’ve got to be kidding me, we just did this routine!!"
Magnus closed his optics for a moment, letting his troops get their anger out of their systems. The Wreckers were Ultra Magnus’s personal troops, the best in the Autobot army. The team consisted of Ultra Magnus, his second in command Impactor, Springer, the Jumpstarters Topspin and Twin Twist, Rack and Ruin, and Whirl and Roadbuster. Just a few weeks ago, the Wreckers had attacked the Decepticon capital of Polyhex to allow Blaster’s group access to the Space Bridge* (* see A World Transformed #3 for details). Now they were being asked to do so again.
"I’m serious Magnus, it’s just suicide to try this again," said the Triple-Changer named Springer.
"He knows that Springer," said Impactor.
"Yeah Springer, just relax," said Rack while polishing a plasma rifle, "We kicked Decepticon skid plate before, we can do it again. What’re you so worried about?"
"I’m worried about getting blown to a dozen pieces by a squad of Vehicons, that’s what," said Springer.
Rack just gave Springer a dirty look and muttered, "Aw you’re never any fun."
Magnus raised his hand, indicating for the Wreckers to be silent. "Springer, I know how you feel, but you have to remember that we’re the most qualified unit for the job. The Aerialbots are still off-planet raiding the Decepticon’s energon facility on Talos 7, so the mission automatically falls into our hands. It’s as simple as that. You‘re free to decline the mission, if you wish."
Springer let out a frustrated sigh. "I’ll take the mission Magnus, you know that."
Magnus smiled at his fellow Wrecker, "I know, I just wanted to lay the guilt trip on you anyway. Now everybody get yourselves ready. We head out in half an hour."
------------------------------
Magnus walked down the halls of the hidden Autobase. The base was several miles beneath the surface of Cybertron, deep in the lost levels of the planet. Billions of years ago, the older Transformer races inhabited these levels. Over time though, other layers were built over it. It was almost as if the past had just disappeared.
Magnus looked at the faces of the other Autobot’s he passed in the hall. Their faces had different looks on them. They were looks of hope and determination. Ever since the Ark went missing, the moral of the army had slowly declined. But following the announcement of the Ark’s founding and the defeat of Straxus, the Autobot’s had renewed vigor for battle and determination to retake their home.
"It’s funny, no matter how many times I put my skidplate on the line for Xaaron and his pals, they keep asking me to do it. And you wanna know the funny part? I keep saying yes. Some people never learn I suppose."
Magnus came to a halt. He turned around to see the battle-scarred form of an older gray and blue Autobot standing before him. The older Transformer gave Magnus a smile.
"Hey Magnus, long time no see."
"Kup!"
The two Autobot’s enthusiastically gave each other a slap on the shoulder and shook hands. Both had wide smiles on their faces.
"Hey old timer, how’ve you been?" asked Magnus.
"Who you callin’ ‘old timer’? I’ve told you before, I’m ‘well aged’."
"I thought you and your squadron was still on the other side of Cybertron raiding the ‘Cons space ports. When did your team get back to Cybertron?"
"Just yesterday. Been busy at the med center. I tell ya, those upgraded Vehicons put up a hell of a fight."
"Tell me about it. So the Elders have you on a job already?"
"Yeah. Actually, we’ve been assigned to go through the Space Bridge to Earth."
Magnus’s optics raised a bit. "Really? Well, at least they got the right team for the mission."
"Yer telling’ me. You on your way to the armory?" Magnus nodded. Kup tilted his head toward the direction down the hall where the Autobot armory was located. "Come on, I’m going there myself. I hear that they have some special weaponry lined up for this mission."
------------------------------
Earth, Australian Outback
"Are you sure these are the right coordinates, Starscream?"
"Don’t worry, just land when I give the order."
High in the sky, Starscream and Skywarp were in their jet modes flying over the desert stretch of the Australian Outback. The Casseticon Ravage sat in Skywarp’s cockpit. For several hours the jets had been flying. They had just left the Phalanx-assimilate Nemesis and Starscream and insisted that they travel to this location. Skywarp didn’t know what was so important about it, but as long as it meant staying away from the Phalanx, he was fine with it.
The two jets finally landed near a large rock formation. Ravage hopped out of Skywarp before the two jets transformed into their gigantic robot forms.
"Who goes there?"
The trio turned around to see the Constructicon’s Mixmaster and Hook each standing with a plasma rifle pointed at them. When he saw his fellow Decepticons, Hook lowered his gun.
"Starscream, what are you doing here?" asked Hook.
"I’m afraid your mission has been cut a bit short, Hook. The Nemesis has been taken over by a techno-virus, along with Megatron and all the other Decepticons," informed Starscream.
"A techno-virus? On this little planet?! That’s hard to imagine," snorted Mixmaster, "These fleshlings are still dependent on fossil fuels, there’s no way they could create a techno-virus."
"[I doubt the virus was manufactured on Earth. This virus was highly advanced, like nothing I have ever seen,]" growled Ravage, whose speech was translated with the others built-in translators.
"Despite its origins," continued Starscream, "We believe we know of some...allies. But in order to combat the techno-virus, we need Cybertronium."
"That will be no problem," said Hook confidently, "follow us."
The two Contructicons led their Decepticon companions to the rock formation and down a tunnel. After traveling several meters, they came to a lit area. When they got there, Skywarp could see a cobbled together power generator providing light. Also in the area were the other Contructicons: Bonecrusher, Long Haul, Scrapper, and Scavenger. Bonecrusher, the Contructicon leader, nodded his head in a form of salute to Starscream. The Seeker commander did likewise.
"Starscream, what brings you here?"
After a moment, the rest of the Contructicons were filled in on the story of the Nemesis.
"Well, you don’t have to worry," said Bonecrusher walking over to a large bin in the corner of the room, "because we are in full supply of Cybertronium."
Bonecrusher opened the bin and Skywarp saw several dozen canisters of Cybertronium, each bearing a Decepticon insignia.
"Where did you get them all?" asked the obsidian colored Seeker.
"Megatron knew that some of the Cybertronium in the Nemesis had fallen out in the crash-landing on this planet. So before he left, he instructed us to travel this planet to collect as much as possible. As luck would have it, most of the Cybertronium landed near this continent the fleshlings call Australia," finished Bonecrusher.
Starscream picked up one of the canisters and a sly grin crossed his face. "Excellent. Prepare your troops Bonecrusher, we make our move soon."
------------------------------
Black Hills, North Dakota
Despite all his time with humans, he knew that there were still concepts that he did not understand. He knew love. He was positive that he did. For years, he had loved and been loved in return by Wanda. Love, kindness, compassion, he knew them. But now he began to know darker concepts. Hate, fury, and fear.
He sat on the tops of one of the edges, gazing out at the beautiful scenery before him. He had once heard Dane Whitman, the Black Knight, talk about this area once before. Dane said that it was beautiful land. Although he couldn’t enjoy it as much as Dane, the Vision could still admire it, in his own way.
It had been over a month since the change had taken him* (*See Neoknights #6). The experience was very odd, unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Some sort of...virus had infected him. He had changed, transformed into something else. Even now, he could only remember brief bits of what happened, but he knew that he did not like the transformation. Since that day, he has spent a great deal of time trying to find out what happened. He had Hank Pym, better known as Giant-Man and Ant-Man, run a sweep of all his systems, but there were no excess programs found. Recently he has taken a leave of absence from the Avengers to figure out what this new part of him was and why it had taken form within him.
"Excuse me, are you the Vision?"
The yellow and green synthezoid turned around to see a family of six standing several feet away from him, big smiles on their faces. What was so strange was that he hadn’t detected the family’s approach, his advanced audio systems should have at least picked up their footsteps. A small boy, no older than 10, held out a notepad.
"Can I have your autograph Mr. Vision, please?"
Vision conducted a scan of the family and quickly found that they were not human. Their outer appearances looked human, but they were actually technologically made. After a quick scan of his databanks, he concluded that the technology was unlike any he had ever seen.
"I think that you want more than an autograph," said the Vision, "And you no longer need to continue your illusion. I know that you aren’t human."
The family’s appearance dissolved into that of yellow and black Phalanx drones. Three of the drones charged. Vision’s body became immaterial, causing them to simply pass right through him. He re-materialized himself and opened fire with his eyebeam lasers at full power. Two of the drones were disintegrated.
"You cannot defeat us Vision. You will be added to our consciousness," said another drone as it charged him with an elongated claw hand.
Vision hit the drone with a punch, knocking its head off. As the severed Phalanx head merely rolled onto the ground, the other three drones charged. Vision hit another one with his eyebeams, disintegrating it. Another ran at him, its hand morphed into a spiked club. The club hit Vision, but merely caused a scratch.
"That was unwise," Vision instructed the drone.
Within a moment, the drone joined its brothers as disintegrated particles. Finally, there was one drone left. Vision approached it calmly.
"You will tell me who you are and why you’ve attacked me."
"Negative," came a voice behind Vision.
It was the drone whose head was knocked off. It had reconstructed itself and rammed its hand into Vision, beginning the infection.
‘Warning...foreign virus infecting systems,’ said Vision’s internal computer.
As Vision looked down to see the abdomen shift into that of a Phalanx drone’s, he felt the change come over him again. His entire body erupted in flame, melting away the Phalanx infection. The two drones saw as Vision’s entire body turned into a metallic black covering, his cape likewise turning to blackness, and a chain running across his chest. The yellow diamond remained on his chest, but his head was no longer as it was. It was now a human skull, surrounded in flame, even after the flames all over the rest of his body were gone. The drones were silent as this new entity looked towards them. This was no longer the Vision; this was the Ghost Rider.
"You seek to destroy my host body, and thus interject on my mission. For that, you will feel the pain of hellfire."
With his right hand, the Ghost Rider shot out a stream of fireballs, hitting the drone that infected the Vision. With an inhuman shriek of pain, the drone was disintegrated. Grabbing the chain around his chest, Ghost Rider lassoed the other drone. Some of its body was likewise disintegrated, but for the most part remained intact. Ghost Rider leaned in toward the drones face.
"Now tell me: what are you and why did you attack the Vision?"
"We are Phalanx," said the drone in its monotone like voice, "The Vision is one of this planet’s most advanced technological beings. We sought to add it to our collective."
"Are there more of your ilk here on Earth?"
The drone nodded, "Affirmative."
Ghost Rider mentally tightened the chain around the drone‘s body, "Tell me where they are."
------------------------------
Mt. St. Hilary, United States
Trailbreaker, Cliffjumper, and Huffer lay on a hill that provided a good view of Mt. St. Hilary, yet provided enough cover. They looked down and saw the tail end of the Ark sticking out of the mountain, it’s yellow surface shimmering as if it had a life of its own.
Trailbreaker shook his head, "I don’t believe it."
"I told Prowl not to split everyone up, but NO, he had to do it. Now the Ark has been taken over and we‘re probably the only ones left," griped Cliffjumper.
"What’re we going to do?" asked Huffer with a concerned look.
"I have no idea," said Trailbreaker.
"We’re taking back the Ark, that’s what."
The three Autbot’s turned around to see the form of Mirage shimmer out of thin air. The Autobot spy had several canisters of Cybertronium in his arms.
"Mirage!" exclaimed Huffer, "What’s happened to the Ark?"
"It’s been taken over by a techno-organic life form calling itself the Phalanx. Every Autobot on the base has been assimilated. I barely made it out before they locked the base down. Just an hour ago, they finally got the human‘s military base too. I‘ve been waiting around to see if there were any late Autobot units showing up. Should have known it‘d be you three," finished Mirage with a grin.
"So I take it from your tone of voice you have a plan?" asked Cliffjumper.
"I’m working on it. But first, we’re going to need to call in some back-up."
Trailbreaker’s optics narrowed in confusion, "Who do you have in mind?"
"A group of the ‘superheroes’ I met. They’re called the Heroes for Hire."
To be continued...
Mirage and the remaining Autobots go seek the help of the Heroes for Hire in Heroes for Hire #10, the Phalanx Ascension continues in various MU:TF titles, and the Transformers battle with the Phalanx.
Sunday, October 27, 2002
Doctor Strange #7 - The Matrix Grimore
"Liebr raz et um," her voice chanted, a pool of internal energy rising further and further up her spine and through each and every strand of fiber making up her metaphysical being. "Liebr raz et um."
A connection was sought, like an errant amp of electricity rushing through a circuit board, hoping to seal some gap in the network of electronics as it was created to do. She searched, yearned, quested for a deeper tie, a closer bonding with that which made her special. That which made her powerful, and masterful.
That which made her different then her father.
Again she nearly lost her focus as her mind wandered to the recent problems she faced. Problems the ritual she performed were meant to help.
Ananym Strange continued to chant, words bouncing off the Mayan temple walls long since over run by the invasion of vine and insect life that had surrounded its borders. Yet still her thoughts were centered on her patronage. Not who or why, like most offspring, but what said parents had done. The actions of one parent in particular in fact.
How had dear old daddy been involved in Stephen's fall?
A Bloodstone, a fragment of her father's soul, rested back in her domicile in New York. Locked under the most powerful of mystical barriers, it still swayed Ananym's musings.
"Liebr raz et um."
More echoes of past magicks funneled into the once religious temple. The sacrificed souls of an entire race of humanity knocked on the temples metaphysical walls as the chanting continued.
Fuck you, Dad.
Somewhere, a Lord of one version of Hell felt a prick of pain near his very heart, or the black ichor that made up the congealed ball that passed for the organ.
In Greenwich Village, a blood red stone shattered into a thousand pieces.
In South Africa, the Sorcerer Supreme just became that much more powerful.
~+~+~+~
DR. STRANGE: MUTF #7
the.matrix.grimore
Written By: Alex Cook
~+~+~+~
"It would take powerful magicks to do this, Bludgeon." An ominous voice tinted with cold responded. The news that was delivered could have dire consequences, a fact none of the gathered Cult missed.
The Path has none the less altered... again, sir." The samurai garbed construct stood evenly under his master's glare.
"Since we altered it in the first place?"
The eastern styled warrior could only nod in agreement to his Masters words.
"How."
"I believe Miss Strange is making a power play."
Blue painted steel, wrapped in metallic leopard furs hobbled out onto the floor. "Let me deal with this Master. I've already bested her pupil." Bantor's chest puffed with pride.
"No. You must recover the next stone." The affixed to his back, white and diamond sharp moved as their lord turned to his side. "You will follow the mage." He said, a curled ball of black cat fur suddenly dropping to the ground and scurrying out of their cavern.
"Tell me more Bludgeon."
~+~+~+~
She needed nothing more from the golden hunk of circuitry before her.
After Ananym's brief jaunt to the South Americas, she'd returned home, to Bleaker Street, and began her research once again. All she was really doing was verifying her hypothesis, the proverbial light-bulb that now shined atop her head a means of inspiration.
There were aliens legends encoded on that Golden 'Disk'. Myths birthed by a technological race of transformers, whispers of their own religion almost. Ananym had read the few fragments of files contained on the salvaged artifact, but originally had dismissed them. Now, finally, the pieces of the puzzle where clicking all together.
The disc spoke of legends, a myth about a force bringing about unification of their species. Not many believed the rhymes words, the aliens on a whole scoffing at the idea that a metaphysical concept could unite their races warring factions. The legend continued, telling of other worldly gems, alien spirits, and a sequence of events to call forth this little thought of spirit. A cycle of circumstances Ananym had suddenly found herself embroiled within.
The first sacrifice was a teenage girl, a month ago. Ananym had been there, at the tail end, unable to help the dying child. She'd destroyed the Xenotech, and had thought that was the end of the matter. Then the Golden Disk had shown up, sharing its secrets with Ananym's. More disturbances in the magical essence that surrounded humanity occurred, Ananym distracted by the Thinker and his foolish gambit. All the time Ananym felt there was something she was missing.
The former Witchfire hadn't thought the reason for her even being the Sorcerer Supreme in the first place would become entwined with her current troubles. None the less, it had. Stephan fell due to his zeloat like pursuit of the construct named The Beast. He;d been cast aside by the Ancient One, his mantle given to Ananym not long after. She kicked herself for not asking more questions in the first place, her training berating her from inside her mind.
What WAS The Beast?
And finally, that was where Ananym's 'father' entered the picture. The Lord of Hell that was BELIEVED to be her father, but his patronage had never been proven. It was a might hard to do, when one thought about it. Regardless, he played a part in Ananym's first and most vital question. Close behind it was the final question she had, which the book she now closed had answered.
What was a Bloodstone? It seemed Belasco had severed a part of himself as a way to obfuscate some plan he launched against Magick, of the at that time New Mutants. forcing this essence into a gem, the stone fractured and split apart into the Bloodstones, cages for pieces of her dear Fathers soul. Standing, Ananym looked off into the night.
Fuck you Belasco, Ananym thought as she walked out of her study. With a snap of her fingers the Golden disk was gone, teleported away in the blink of an eye. She had no need for it anymore after all. Ananym was armed now with her favorite weapon, facts.
There was someone, or someone's, trying to resurrect The Beast. Ananym herself had intercepted a few of these Bloodstones, however it seemed she had not done enough. The Sorcerer Supreme floated on nothing as the night's air embraced her, her study window closing of its own accord as she left her home.
It was time Ananym learned exactly who was messing with a part of Daddy's soul.
~+~+~+~
"But they have no SOUL'S man! How can they even CAST!?!"
He had to sigh again, keeping his anger in check. He was the first of their cabal, answering his Thirds inane questions. Yet again.
"The Transformers can't ALL cast magicks dumbass. There's only a few of them. The most powerful of those? Those would be our bosses."
The second of the group, and the only female, stepped forward slightly, looking at the fourth and aforementioned third. "This changes nothing."
"Fuck you it changes everything! These things can't be trusted!" With a deep breath he snarled at his former leader. "You should have told us about this."
~+~+~+~
"This is what you shouldn't have done. You shouldn't have posed as a cat. I have a thing about cats." Her red hair flashed as she whipped her upper boy to the side, sending a black ball toward the wall. With feline grace the cat pivoted in the air and bounced with all fours off against the wall and landed evenly on the floor.
With a shimmer, Ananym saw the 'cat's glamour drop to the floor. "Fine then." The female mechanoids voice said, standing upright as it shifted into her hybrid state. Sharp claws and a whipping metal coil of a tail crowned off the Maximals cross transformation, cast head to toe in mate black armor the likes of which Strange had to slightly awe at.
Slightly.
Eldritch bolts of crimson rocketed through the air. Sensors within the cat woman's breast shouted alerts and warnings too late for the Transformer to do anything. The tendrils of power crisscrossed around her and tightened, constricting beyond the limit of her constructs limit. With a crack fragments of her body shattered off and fell to the floor.
"Your...," she strained, her voice circuits almost destroyed by the pink oscillating band wrapped around her throat. "Power levels... they... are much greater... then before."
"So nice of you too notice." Ananym said with nothing but honey dripping from her words. "What's your name dear."
"Lynx..."
"So young. I can tell you're new to this." She suddenly glared at her prisoner. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"I won't...," she started, then stopped as suddenly. With a small gasp, she felt Ananym's power grow again, the pressure around her magnifying.
"Don't try to be cute. What are you things doing?" Ananym flexed her fist as a small explosion of red blanketed her eyes. She fought back her own pain as another patch of cybernetics forced its way out from beneath her epidermis. The Technological Virus she was aligned with continued to feed on her growing expenditure of raw power.
Ananym had a very personal reason for wanting answers from the bitch in front of her now.
"I suggest you tell me everything, child. As you can see," she commented, flexing her fist further as the eldritch constraints tightened yet again, "I have proven I'm more then willing to destroy you."
With a ear splitting howl the cat named Lynx began telling the Sorcerer Supreme everything she knew.
~+~+~+~
Dust fell around him as the stone was moved carefully.
It was odd, denoting sex to a creature such as he. For a machine, a specimen not even able attain the robotic shape his species was known for, 'he' was an oddity. ON top of the identity crisis already laid at the construct feet, his ability to access Magick had brought about boons as well as further hardships and damnation.
It would stop very soon, if things continued on the Path.
Statues and markings on the walls named the Gods memorial the Transformer continued to raid. Atum was its name, a God of transformation itself. Elder Gods of all names came to be by first taking his form, fitting the creature thought to its mechanical self. Fingers of metallic makings, with fur of sorts covering the top, moved about figurines weighing in the tons as if they were nothing. X-Ray sensors scanned the ancient tomb, the gleaming construction of his body an interesting contrast to its surroundings.
Beep.
Located, the jewel he sought ebbed with a glow the computer manufactured for his assistance. A fist clenched as he rose his arm back, taking aim.
"I wouldn't if I were you."
Turning, the Transformer looked at the red haired obviously magickal-educated women standing in the hole he had created to gain his original entry. the energy collecting around her equaling balled fists, colors oscillating in chaotic fractal formation, gave away her power.
"Sorcerer." The computer generated voice said as it turned t scans her.
Eyes flared as Ananym glared at him, saying, "Enough of this defamation of a dead Gods tomb."
Atum's grave shook as the baboon feet with a tigers fur strips covering them pushed forward, knuckles of alien carbon based materials scrapping the ground as well. "You should have been dealt with long ago."
Ananym let the threat get the better of her resolve. "The first cat you sent wasn't good enough. Care to try your luck?"
"Bantor shall." The tiger leaped, gears' spinning as the sleek cat was formed in mid air as Ananym took a battle stance. Mystical energies blocked Bantor as his clawed paws landed inches from Ananym's feet. Rearing backwards, the cat transformed again as quickly, a baboon shape now, fists pounding against the shield with a force to be reckoned with. His eyes flashed as well, digital symbols of binary and arcane encircled his fingers, tiny explosions raining down on Ananym's defenses as he continued to advance forward.
"The Bloodstone will be mine." Bantor challenged, his simian form rolling backward. Gears were heard as the ball unfurled in full hybrid form, baboon and tiger fused into one.
Ananym saw the techno organic viruses spores scattered around his frame instantly. "You're infected." she gasped slightly, caught off-guard by the sight.
Bantor almost smiled, if his new forms facial motors had been capable of it. "I am a Fuzor. It is what makes me", glancing at his combined mecha state, "Me."
Fingers pointed as hands rotated in patterns older then wither of them, power drawn toward each combatant like a lightning to a steel rod.
Within the caverns of the Valley of the Kings, the technological and the magickal waged War.
~+~+~+~
NEXT ISSUE: It's all drawn to a close with only one issue before our grand finale, number nine.
~+~+~+~BINARY BRIMSTONE~+~+~+~
I'm shortening this series by an issue now. I've dropped an extra plot-line which removed the need for a whole issue. Now, the.matrix.grimore will end with a much better punch I think.
-ALEX08.31.02
A connection was sought, like an errant amp of electricity rushing through a circuit board, hoping to seal some gap in the network of electronics as it was created to do. She searched, yearned, quested for a deeper tie, a closer bonding with that which made her special. That which made her powerful, and masterful.
That which made her different then her father.
Again she nearly lost her focus as her mind wandered to the recent problems she faced. Problems the ritual she performed were meant to help.
Ananym Strange continued to chant, words bouncing off the Mayan temple walls long since over run by the invasion of vine and insect life that had surrounded its borders. Yet still her thoughts were centered on her patronage. Not who or why, like most offspring, but what said parents had done. The actions of one parent in particular in fact.
How had dear old daddy been involved in Stephen's fall?
A Bloodstone, a fragment of her father's soul, rested back in her domicile in New York. Locked under the most powerful of mystical barriers, it still swayed Ananym's musings.
"Liebr raz et um."
More echoes of past magicks funneled into the once religious temple. The sacrificed souls of an entire race of humanity knocked on the temples metaphysical walls as the chanting continued.
Fuck you, Dad.
Somewhere, a Lord of one version of Hell felt a prick of pain near his very heart, or the black ichor that made up the congealed ball that passed for the organ.
In Greenwich Village, a blood red stone shattered into a thousand pieces.
In South Africa, the Sorcerer Supreme just became that much more powerful.
~+~+~+~
DR. STRANGE: MUTF #7
the.matrix.grimore
Written By: Alex Cook
~+~+~+~
"It would take powerful magicks to do this, Bludgeon." An ominous voice tinted with cold responded. The news that was delivered could have dire consequences, a fact none of the gathered Cult missed.
The Path has none the less altered... again, sir." The samurai garbed construct stood evenly under his master's glare.
"Since we altered it in the first place?"
The eastern styled warrior could only nod in agreement to his Masters words.
"How."
"I believe Miss Strange is making a power play."
Blue painted steel, wrapped in metallic leopard furs hobbled out onto the floor. "Let me deal with this Master. I've already bested her pupil." Bantor's chest puffed with pride.
"No. You must recover the next stone." The affixed to his back, white and diamond sharp moved as their lord turned to his side. "You will follow the mage." He said, a curled ball of black cat fur suddenly dropping to the ground and scurrying out of their cavern.
"Tell me more Bludgeon."
~+~+~+~
She needed nothing more from the golden hunk of circuitry before her.
After Ananym's brief jaunt to the South Americas, she'd returned home, to Bleaker Street, and began her research once again. All she was really doing was verifying her hypothesis, the proverbial light-bulb that now shined atop her head a means of inspiration.
There were aliens legends encoded on that Golden 'Disk'. Myths birthed by a technological race of transformers, whispers of their own religion almost. Ananym had read the few fragments of files contained on the salvaged artifact, but originally had dismissed them. Now, finally, the pieces of the puzzle where clicking all together.
The disc spoke of legends, a myth about a force bringing about unification of their species. Not many believed the rhymes words, the aliens on a whole scoffing at the idea that a metaphysical concept could unite their races warring factions. The legend continued, telling of other worldly gems, alien spirits, and a sequence of events to call forth this little thought of spirit. A cycle of circumstances Ananym had suddenly found herself embroiled within.
The first sacrifice was a teenage girl, a month ago. Ananym had been there, at the tail end, unable to help the dying child. She'd destroyed the Xenotech, and had thought that was the end of the matter. Then the Golden Disk had shown up, sharing its secrets with Ananym's. More disturbances in the magical essence that surrounded humanity occurred, Ananym distracted by the Thinker and his foolish gambit. All the time Ananym felt there was something she was missing.
The former Witchfire hadn't thought the reason for her even being the Sorcerer Supreme in the first place would become entwined with her current troubles. None the less, it had. Stephan fell due to his zeloat like pursuit of the construct named The Beast. He;d been cast aside by the Ancient One, his mantle given to Ananym not long after. She kicked herself for not asking more questions in the first place, her training berating her from inside her mind.
What WAS The Beast?
And finally, that was where Ananym's 'father' entered the picture. The Lord of Hell that was BELIEVED to be her father, but his patronage had never been proven. It was a might hard to do, when one thought about it. Regardless, he played a part in Ananym's first and most vital question. Close behind it was the final question she had, which the book she now closed had answered.
What was a Bloodstone? It seemed Belasco had severed a part of himself as a way to obfuscate some plan he launched against Magick, of the at that time New Mutants. forcing this essence into a gem, the stone fractured and split apart into the Bloodstones, cages for pieces of her dear Fathers soul. Standing, Ananym looked off into the night.
Fuck you Belasco, Ananym thought as she walked out of her study. With a snap of her fingers the Golden disk was gone, teleported away in the blink of an eye. She had no need for it anymore after all. Ananym was armed now with her favorite weapon, facts.
There was someone, or someone's, trying to resurrect The Beast. Ananym herself had intercepted a few of these Bloodstones, however it seemed she had not done enough. The Sorcerer Supreme floated on nothing as the night's air embraced her, her study window closing of its own accord as she left her home.
It was time Ananym learned exactly who was messing with a part of Daddy's soul.
~+~+~+~
"But they have no SOUL'S man! How can they even CAST!?!"
He had to sigh again, keeping his anger in check. He was the first of their cabal, answering his Thirds inane questions. Yet again.
"The Transformers can't ALL cast magicks dumbass. There's only a few of them. The most powerful of those? Those would be our bosses."
The second of the group, and the only female, stepped forward slightly, looking at the fourth and aforementioned third. "This changes nothing."
"Fuck you it changes everything! These things can't be trusted!" With a deep breath he snarled at his former leader. "You should have told us about this."
~+~+~+~
"This is what you shouldn't have done. You shouldn't have posed as a cat. I have a thing about cats." Her red hair flashed as she whipped her upper boy to the side, sending a black ball toward the wall. With feline grace the cat pivoted in the air and bounced with all fours off against the wall and landed evenly on the floor.
With a shimmer, Ananym saw the 'cat's glamour drop to the floor. "Fine then." The female mechanoids voice said, standing upright as it shifted into her hybrid state. Sharp claws and a whipping metal coil of a tail crowned off the Maximals cross transformation, cast head to toe in mate black armor the likes of which Strange had to slightly awe at.
Slightly.
Eldritch bolts of crimson rocketed through the air. Sensors within the cat woman's breast shouted alerts and warnings too late for the Transformer to do anything. The tendrils of power crisscrossed around her and tightened, constricting beyond the limit of her constructs limit. With a crack fragments of her body shattered off and fell to the floor.
"Your...," she strained, her voice circuits almost destroyed by the pink oscillating band wrapped around her throat. "Power levels... they... are much greater... then before."
"So nice of you too notice." Ananym said with nothing but honey dripping from her words. "What's your name dear."
"Lynx..."
"So young. I can tell you're new to this." She suddenly glared at her prisoner. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"I won't...," she started, then stopped as suddenly. With a small gasp, she felt Ananym's power grow again, the pressure around her magnifying.
"Don't try to be cute. What are you things doing?" Ananym flexed her fist as a small explosion of red blanketed her eyes. She fought back her own pain as another patch of cybernetics forced its way out from beneath her epidermis. The Technological Virus she was aligned with continued to feed on her growing expenditure of raw power.
Ananym had a very personal reason for wanting answers from the bitch in front of her now.
"I suggest you tell me everything, child. As you can see," she commented, flexing her fist further as the eldritch constraints tightened yet again, "I have proven I'm more then willing to destroy you."
With a ear splitting howl the cat named Lynx began telling the Sorcerer Supreme everything she knew.
~+~+~+~
Dust fell around him as the stone was moved carefully.
It was odd, denoting sex to a creature such as he. For a machine, a specimen not even able attain the robotic shape his species was known for, 'he' was an oddity. ON top of the identity crisis already laid at the construct feet, his ability to access Magick had brought about boons as well as further hardships and damnation.
It would stop very soon, if things continued on the Path.
Statues and markings on the walls named the Gods memorial the Transformer continued to raid. Atum was its name, a God of transformation itself. Elder Gods of all names came to be by first taking his form, fitting the creature thought to its mechanical self. Fingers of metallic makings, with fur of sorts covering the top, moved about figurines weighing in the tons as if they were nothing. X-Ray sensors scanned the ancient tomb, the gleaming construction of his body an interesting contrast to its surroundings.
Beep.
Located, the jewel he sought ebbed with a glow the computer manufactured for his assistance. A fist clenched as he rose his arm back, taking aim.
"I wouldn't if I were you."
Turning, the Transformer looked at the red haired obviously magickal-educated women standing in the hole he had created to gain his original entry. the energy collecting around her equaling balled fists, colors oscillating in chaotic fractal formation, gave away her power.
"Sorcerer." The computer generated voice said as it turned t scans her.
Eyes flared as Ananym glared at him, saying, "Enough of this defamation of a dead Gods tomb."
Atum's grave shook as the baboon feet with a tigers fur strips covering them pushed forward, knuckles of alien carbon based materials scrapping the ground as well. "You should have been dealt with long ago."
Ananym let the threat get the better of her resolve. "The first cat you sent wasn't good enough. Care to try your luck?"
"Bantor shall." The tiger leaped, gears' spinning as the sleek cat was formed in mid air as Ananym took a battle stance. Mystical energies blocked Bantor as his clawed paws landed inches from Ananym's feet. Rearing backwards, the cat transformed again as quickly, a baboon shape now, fists pounding against the shield with a force to be reckoned with. His eyes flashed as well, digital symbols of binary and arcane encircled his fingers, tiny explosions raining down on Ananym's defenses as he continued to advance forward.
"The Bloodstone will be mine." Bantor challenged, his simian form rolling backward. Gears were heard as the ball unfurled in full hybrid form, baboon and tiger fused into one.
Ananym saw the techno organic viruses spores scattered around his frame instantly. "You're infected." she gasped slightly, caught off-guard by the sight.
Bantor almost smiled, if his new forms facial motors had been capable of it. "I am a Fuzor. It is what makes me", glancing at his combined mecha state, "Me."
Fingers pointed as hands rotated in patterns older then wither of them, power drawn toward each combatant like a lightning to a steel rod.
Within the caverns of the Valley of the Kings, the technological and the magickal waged War.
~+~+~+~
NEXT ISSUE: It's all drawn to a close with only one issue before our grand finale, number nine.
~+~+~+~BINARY BRIMSTONE~+~+~+~
I'm shortening this series by an issue now. I've dropped an extra plot-line which removed the need for a whole issue. Now, the.matrix.grimore will end with a much better punch I think.
-ALEX08.31.02
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