Tuesday, May 26, 2015

1/19/13 - Nataraja, Mother!@#$er - pt.2

"Three Can Keep A Secret, If Two of Them Are Dead"
Col. Richter, Ben Franklin, Josie

(Art by Dean Stahl)
* * *

The TU transports, already halfway across the Atlantic.

Elite kill squads, one carrying the special package. 

"Now," SPYGOD says, taking off the metal helmet.

"Let's !@#$ing talk about sukas, you sorry pedo !@#$."

A hidden driveway, behind the White House.

The Bugatti flies out, Ben Franklin laughing at the wheel.

The villains in their lair, making last minute preparations.

The Pusher nods to his men. "Get the 'porter in motion."

* * *

 Their orders are simple and unalterable.

Turn on the machine. Kill the city. Get SPYGOD away for trial. 

A massive, wide sword sprouts from his hand.

Shines in time with his heartbeat. Old friend, come back to play.

They lay rubber all over the roads, narrowly avoiding crashes. 

Heading for the Heptagon, ignoring the sirens. 
The Angle nods, grinning as he calls the idiot up. 

(He doesn't know what he's been asked to do. Not really.)

* * *

In the Third Base, an orderly kind of chaos.

Teams are divided. Final orders given. Guns handed 'round. 

Josie walks out of the Heptagon's front doors. 

A small, white box in her hands. Complicated lock. 

The brown dog smiles at the TU guards he's knocked out.

Kicks one to be sure. Enjoys the groan. 

Tempete Bleu sitting on his throne, over it all.

Watching the TU transports head for America. Contemplating. 

* * *

Yanabah and Red Wrecker have joined the others.

No worse the wear for "sleeping" so long, in their tanks. 

She looks at her watch, hearing the car before she sees it.

Chuckles, admiring the old man's sheer ballsiness.

Gold Standard comes flying over, her armor shiny and new.

"Any word from our friend, yet?" she asks.

Once SPYGOD's trial is done, he will break the world.

This is his black promise. His masters seem pleased.

* * *

A few of the main team wonder why Foudre Blanc isn't here.

Shouldn't this op be his show, really?

Bely Rytsar whimpers, under his useless armor.

Barely feels SPYGOD's blade as it cleaves him in two.

Up the main driveway to the seven-sided building. 

Ben slows down just long enough for Josie to leap in.

Remote cameras show their teleporter appear. 

A large metal box, marked опасность But he can't read it. 

* * *

Ah well, more glory for them. And he kind of creeps them out...

Ah! Neo York City's coming into view. 

Half of him goes one way, half goes the other. 

SPYGOD's sword cleans his blood off itself, misting it away. 

"Your box," Josie says, nodding to Mr. USA and Gosheven. 

Franklin takes it and grins, patting her thigh.

The villains laugh as he complains of feeling hot and stifled. 

"Tell him to take an aspirin," the Pusher snorts.

* * *

“Alright, folks, this is it,” Straffer says, eyes like stone.

“Today we save the world, whether it wants it or not."

As they race from the Heptagon, Ben puts on a white button.

For a moment, Josie forgets who he is.

The dog’s about to say something, but there’s a crash.

The two halves of Bely Rytsar sail out a high window.

But then, Tempete Bleu senses something else down there.

Something has just shifted in the world. 

* * *

“Some will take the conspiracy out. Some will reclaim our nation"

“And some of you will do what you do best."

He taps the button three times, and the world changes.

Becomes ghostly and white, with glowing visual echoes.

They fall down pathetically, guts like streamers.

Smash on the ground goes a Russian super-molester.

Something he’d been mildly aware of. Something truly old. Sleeping.

It’s awake, now. Alive and moving.

* * *

 "You’ve got teams and objectives. Use them. Do them.”

“No hesitation, no fatalities, no mistakes."

All in the car remember, they’ve done this before.

(Back when this whole con job was hatched, months ago)

SPYGOD leans out the shattered window, waves to Antonia.

“What !@#$ing kept you?” he jokes, smiling.   

“What is that?” the Antichrist asks, looking at the golden sphere.

His masters chatter like night insects. Useless. 

* * *

Suddenly, they realize something’s heading out to meet them.

Something blue, man-shaped, and glowing…

… appearing next to SPYGOD, and Antonia.

“I presume this means we’re doing it?” Nthernaut asks.

The world falls away, something large comes into sight.

A naval destroyer. Cannon Class. USS Eldridge.

“Please move the package into position,” The Angle commands.

“You have your coordinates. You are go.”

* * *

The transports bank and scatter, trying to evade.

They don’t have much luck, though. He's too fast.

“We are, yes,” SPYGOD confirms.

“Get them out of this city. All of them. We fight back from here.”

Ben drives the Bugatti right up alongside the ship.

At which point his passengers remember, and jump.

The teleporter complains, but the villains just laugh.

But then things flicker, just a little. Power failure.

* * *  

They land right into the makeshift dock, strapped to the ship.

A Josie and a Richter, standing guard, let them in…

… and Josie leads Mr. USA and Gosheven into the main room.

“About !@#$ time,” Straffer says, clearly annoyed

“It’s being done as we speak,” Antonia says.

Holograms surround her, showing progress across country.

He hears a name: “Sudarshana Chakra.”

It’s moving from Asia across the Pacific, almost too fast to see. 

* * *

“See you later,” Yanabah grins at Gosheven.

Her and Team Alpha join hands with Night Phantom. Disappear…

… leaving Josie to join Straffer, watching the progress.

On every screen, the exact same story unfolds…

… in every major city in America, the TU is being routed.

Toons in white power armor overwhelm and capture.

His masters hiss and chitter in fear, but he refuses to be cowed.

This has to be SPYGOD’s doing. It’s too coincidental.  

* * * 

Their transports are taken over, one by one.

Their controls are useless. They’re rerouted to New Jersey.

“Gold star, Gold Standard,” SPYGOD chuckles, looking west.

“Now, if you’ll !@#$ing excuse me? Here's my ride.”

Cargo dropped off, Ben kicks up the Music (Sharp Dressed Man)

Sets his time controls back to four days ago, in India.

“Oh for !@#$s sake,” the Pusher sighs: “Who forgot to pay the bill?”

“Me,” the Sound says, vibrating into the wall. 

* * *

“We no longer recognize your authority” the Nthernaut tells them.

“Cooperate, and you’ll be returned to France.”

With that, he steps out the window, and jumps up, spiderlike, to the roof.

He gives a thumbs up, as if hitchhiking.

There, on the windswept plain before a familiar cairn, someone has appeared.

Suit smeared with blood, ready for his payload.

A long flicker. Night Phantom appears, with heroes.

Then it goes dark. Punching and cracking follow.  

* * * 

The Pusher tries to take control. Gets broken by invisible fists.

He can tell the others aren’t doing well, either.

On the screens, the revolution. Heroes and Toons unite to win.

Mr. Chaos turns TU guards to butter outside his Ashram…   

… as Green Fury cleans up in Los Angeles...

... and the Owl and Talon take down the Chicago TU office.

"This is unacceptable," Tempete Bleu hisses.

He leaps from his throne, heading for the ball that hurts him so. 

* * *

“No, really, don’t get up,” New Man tells Pusher, as the lights come on.

“You’re surrounded, son. This is over.”

Within minutes, it’s almost all said and done.

TU offices go offline, and the guards are laying down their arms.

The phones from France ring and ring.

Someone thinks they should find the President. No response.  

Just as well, Tempete Bleu thinks. If he can’t try SPYGOD? He’ll break him.

And after him, the world. 

* * *

When they get to Jersey they see what he meant.  

The TU flags at the port are all down. Old glory sails, once more.

“And I don’t have a thing to wear,” SPYGOD chuckles.

The golden sphere slows down, just so he can jump on.

“Here you go, Colonel!” Ben shouts as he tosses him the box.

“Thank you, good sir!” the man says, disappearing into the cairn.

But the Pusher starts laughing, teeth falling from his mouth.

“Over?” he mutters: “Oh you dumb !@#$ idiots. You’re too late.”

* * *

But one of them keeps their head enough to remember -- the package.

He holds it over his head. Turns it on...

The sphere lets SPYGOD in. He floats to its center.

There awaits a man he hasn’t seen since Apollo 16.

Then Ben reverses, heading for the present.

It isn’t until he’s halfway there that he sees the silver hitchhiker...

“We already sent the nuke off,” the Pusher laughs, pointing to the screen.

“Kiss Barcelona goodbye!” 

* * *

Almost there. Almost. 

Nemesis -- formerly known as Ciel Rouge -- is taxing the powers this new body has to their limit, trying to get back to the Earth in time.

She should be able to make the journey from Venus' orbit to Paris in one, instantaneous teleport. Instead, she's having to make several, smaller jumps.

And each one is taxing her even more.

She should be stronger. She knows this. She should be able to do all that, and more.

But that's how this works, apparently. This body is still struggling with its old rules. Its old limitations.

And the fact that something as powerful as she is has taken up residence within it? Well, that doesn't help. If anything, it's just making it more confusing.

That's not the only thing that's confusing her, now.

Did she really just take over this dying body, like a hand slipping into a glove, or was she always there, somehow, waiting for a chance to wake up? Is she really Nemesis, or some blend of her and Ciel Rouge?

Or was Ciel Rouge Nemesis all along, waiting for this to happen...?

She isn't sure. Being a God does not come with an instruction manual. She was who she was, and now she is who she is, and after so long of being half-asleep -- hobbled by the weight of the Backers -- she knows only that she is free.

That and she's not the only one.

She can hear the others calling to her. Hoosk, from which all things spring. Kanaan, spinning the destinies of man and God. Satanoth, his presence awakening the restless dead.

And Shift -- also reborn in new flesh, she thinks -- who is telling her she really needs to get back to Earth. Now. 

"This would be faster if you'd just come and get me," she grumbles. But she knows he won't. 'The journey is the destination,' he'd say, or some such circular nonsense disguised as wisdom.

Nemesis doesn't have time for that. There is justice. There is vengeance. She is their instrument.

And in her case, the journey ends in both.

She grits her teeth and jumps again. Almost there.


(SPYGOD is listening to Tin There (Underworld, Wipeout Remix) and having a Barcelona) 

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