The Defenders

“Why Is Everyone More Advanced Than Me?”

By Edward Ainsworth

“Whoa,” Banner exclaimed.

He’d been in space before, many times in fact, as the Hulk and as Banner, but this was the first time he’d seen something on such a large…scale. As Galactus looked down at his returning Herald, and the other Defenders with him, explosions of energy cascaded across his form.

Strange erected a shield quickly reinforced with the Surfer’s Cosmic Power as Red Shift bounced off the bubble, a slice leaking energy across his stomach. Terrax charged forwards, hitting Shift in the face with the end of his axe and knocking more energy from the herald’s face.

Surfer looked at Strange, who readjusted himself, but said nothing.

“Go on then!” Banner shouted, as the Surfer broke free from the shielding and hurtled after the two battling Heralds.

“TERRAX” Surfer screamed, as he leapt off his board allowing it to plough into the back of his legs, knocking him backwards as the Surfer fixed himself to the massive grey man's back and fired a bolt of energy down his open mouth.

“Whoooa...” Banner said again.

“The Silver Savage,” Namor commented as he watched the Heralds rebound off each other, portals and energy beams shooting through space. There seemed to be more of them, at least twenty.

The trio watched the Heralds below. They recognized most of them: Terrax the Tamer, a massive grey skinned Geokinetic with an Axe powered much the same way Norrin’s surf board was, had previously been battling against the Herald called Red Shift, who crossed his swords and charged head first into Terrax, still reeling from the Surfer’s burst.

“AWAY FROM HIM!” screamed the artificial construction known as Air-Walker, who crashed into the Surfer’s midsection hard enough to cause a tiny crack in the Surfer’s body. As Norrin uppercut the synthzoid Firelord, another former Herald descended upon them, dousing them both with the power of an exploding sun.

“Firelord!” Surfer managed to say, throwing up a repulsive shield, blasting some of the heat back at the alien. Air-Walker turned mid-fight to punch the burning man into the Axe of Terrax, who had nearly cleaved Red Shift’s arm off.

“This is madness,” Surfer said to himself as the Fallen One charged for him. Norrin braced for impact, only to be saved at the last moment by Lightstar, whose foot, powered by an event horizon, hit the Dark matter powered creature in the back, sending it hurtling below.

“Norrin,” he said. “The Herald War is worsening.”

“Of that I am aware, Lightstar,” Norrin said with a hint of irritation.

“Your friends are speaking with our creator now.” Lightstar pointed towards Galactus as the unified front of Terrax, Firelord and Air walker all sped towards the pair.

“I think we have our work cut out for us here, Lightstar,” Norrin said, pulling her onto his board by the waist.

“I don’t understand,” Strange said, more to himself than anyone else.

“I knew Galactus had a lot of Heralds but…Jeez,” Banner started before Namor silenced him as the giant purple head of the monster above them apparently noticed the magician and his teammates.

A massive hand reached down and scooped them from their free floating position. As Banner and Strange fixed their attention on Galactus pulling them towards his massive form, Namor watched the Surfer battle against Terrax. Another herald, dressed entirely in what appeared to be black plastic, hit the silver guardian in the back with a concentrated dark-matter burst.

“By the Depths…” Namor muttered. How could the Surfer battle against such odds?

“Ya know, it occurs to me,” Banner said, looking to Strange. “That Lightstar lady never did explain to us what was going on…and where did she go?”

-[EXPLAINATIONS?]- Galactus questioned, his mighty voice boomed through their ears. Namor winced, his hearing being much more precise and attuned than the others. -[I KNOW OF YOU, STEPHEN STRANGE; YOU HAVE AIDED ME IN THE PAST. ARE THESE YOUR HERALDS?]-

“I’m not a Herald! I’m a Scientist!” Banner screamed up at the God-like being, obviously annoyed by the statement. Namor fumed silently, waving off the destroyer of worlds and crossing his arms.

“Galactus…What has happened here?” Strange asked as he pulled them inside a field of energy that protected them from the vacuum and desolation of space.

-[MY HERALDS, STEPHEN STRANGE, THEY ARE OUT OF MY CONTROL NOW.]-

“Out of your control?” Banner asked, removing his glasses to wipe them across his transparent shirt. Namor noted that Banner’s moods seemed to be swinging rather violently in between anger and calm; perhaps this was the norm for him, though Namor was unsure.

-[MY HERALDS HAVE BROKEN INTO WAR, STEPHEN STRANGE. A CIVIL WAR.]-

Strange’s jaw dropped as he looked at the scene below. Twenty or more heralds collided with each other using all the elements of the universe as their arsenal, including a few that Strange hadn’t seen before. One of them caught his attention, a female whose golden form swam through space as though she were coasting on invisible winds. There was something very familiar about her.

“By the Vishanti! She’s using Magic!” Strange looked up at the Space God. “Galactus, how can she be using Magic?”

-[THERE IS MUCH YOU DO NOT KNOW ABOUT MY METHODS, STEPHEN STRANGE. I DO NOT EXIST IN THE REALITY THAT YOU KNOW AND INHABIT SINUGULARLY. I EXIST ACROSS TWENTY-SIX DIMENSIONS OF TIME AND SPACE, BEYOND YOUR PRIMITIVE CONCEPT OF ‘STRING THEORY’.]-

“Primitive concept? That maths is almost completely proven, Galactus!” Banner pointed to the massive form before them as Strange shushed him.

-[I HAVE CREATED HERALDS BEFORE, IN THIS VERSION OF THREE DIMENSIONAL SPACE, BUT I REQUIRE MORE THAN THE LIFE FORCE OF PLANETS TO SURVIVE. IT IS SIMPLY NOT SUSTAINABLE.]-

Banner interupted, nugging Namor in the side. “I think we've found the future voice of the WWF,” he said with a grin. Namor shook his head slowly and avoided looking at Banner as Galactus continued.

-[I HAVE EXPANDED MY REACH, STEPHEN STRANGE. I FEED ACROSS MULTIPLE DIMENSIONS, THUS I HAVE MANY HERALDS. ONE SUCH IS BAR-FUN, A MAGICIAN I DISCOVERED A HUNDRED YEARS PRIOR TO YOUR ASSERTATIONS TO SORCERER SUPREME. SHE BRINGS ME SUCH POWERFUL SPELLS.]-

Banner looked to Namor, who looked to Strange. “Did you know this, Magician?” Namor asked, confusion writing itself across his features.

“I did not, Namor. I did not know that Galactus could consume magic, nor did I comprehend that he existed on multiple dimensional fronts,” Stephen admitted, his face torn between shame and sadness. He had disappointed himself, but more importantly, his friends. They looked to him for knowledge and, this time, he had failed.

“It makes a certain amount of sense though, doesn’t it?” Banner continued. Namor noticed a sort of blue hue building within his throat, before it dissipated outwards. “I mean, existing on multiple dimensional membranes is an incredibly obvious thing, isn’t it? A being such as Galactus really couldn’t consume planets forever, especially if the crunch were to occur.”

-[YOUR HERALD IS CORRECT, STEPHEN STRANGE. I CANNOT BE TIED TO ONE REALITY LEST THAT REALITY FAIL.]-

“Not a herald,” Banner commented.

After a moment of thinking, Strange looked up at Galactus. “Is there anything we can do to help you, Galactus?”

Namor and Banner both looked at Strange in incredulity. “Strange, are you mad?” Namor yelled.

Galactus pulled them closer to his head, casting a sideways glance to the Heralds battling around them. -[I ASK THIS OF YOU, STEPHEN STRANGE AND YOUR...COMPANIONS. I ASK FOR YOU TO FIND THE SOURCE OF THE INFECTION THAT LED MY HERALDS TO THIS COURSE, AND I ASK THAT YOU FIND IT BEFORE MY LIMITED POWER FLAGS. I DO NOT WISH TO PERISH AS A RESULT OF THIS.]-

Banner muttered something underneath his breath, something so quiet even Namor didn’t hear. Before Namor could object Strange nodded. “We accept, Galactus. Show us where to begin.”

“Damn you to Hells, Strange,” Namor said, gritting his teeth.

“Trust me, Namor. This will benefit us all.”

“You said we would find my wife, you bewildering idiot!” Namor clenched his fists and lurched forwards.

-[TO ME, MY SILVER HERALD!]- the booming voice of Galactus once again tore through their minds. The Surfer, accompanied by Lightstar, shot towards the gathering.

-[I SEND YOU NOW TO THE SOURCE OF THE INFECTION. I SEND YOU TO THE HOME WORLD OF THE BEINGS KNOWN AS THE PLODEX]-

Strange nodded and looked to Namor, who had his thumb and forefinger pressed against the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “By the deep Strange, you cannot know the ways in which I hate you.”

“If we’re to face these Plodex creatures, we are going to need weaponry?” Banner asked, pausing to look at Strange before continuing. “These things are clearly very, very durable. They’re able to pollute the Heralds of Galactus, who command the powers of the Universe and 25 others dimensional realities. We’re going to have to have something REALLY powerful at our sides.”

“I agree,” Strange said. He pressed his hands together, his ring fingers touching and bending. As he opened his palms, the eye of Agamotto blinked itself awake and began to push the large, metal trident through itself. Alongside it a fragment of metal dropped on top of its longer companion.

Dropping onto the surface of Galactus’ hand, the Trident gleamed with what appeared to be more than its original power. Namor knelt down and picked it up. “I don’t understand. It feels the same but…different.” Namor said, narrowing an eye at Strange “What have you done to it, magician?”

“You will know when the time is right, Namor.”

“Hrnf...” Namor huffed as Strange looked across his four companions and then up to Galactus himself.

“We are ready to leave, Galactus,” Strange asserted as Banner knelt down to clutch the smaller piece of metal in his hand, holding it close to his chest.

-[SO BE IT!]-

A great flash enveloped the group transporting them across space and the dimensions Galactus inhabited.

-[GOOD LUCK, STEPHEN STRANGE.]- Galactus muttered to himself, as the Heralds Stardust and Plasma exploded into battle against his massive cheek.

Kyle Richmond needed the Defenders more than ever. Wong had turfed him out after the rest of the Defenders headed off into space, and his omission from this turn of events left him extremely annoyed. He rubbed his forehead gently as he stood inside his apartment, looking out onto the city beneath him. He’d called Patsy after the main event but she’d made some excuses, something about not being able to come over because she was in a hot tub with four men from a Rugby team or something to that effect. Why didn’t Kyle ever get to be in a hot tub with someone?

“Doesn’t even matter anyway,” Kyle said to himself, scratching the back of his head and turning to look at the flare gun and other somewhat outdated technology set before him on the table. “We’ve always been a non-team but…I always had a better relationship with the little three than with Hulk, or Strange or even Surfer; Namor just doesn’t care,” Kyle narrated to the captive audience before him.

Before the Defenders were formed, or rather the adventure that truly cemented their need on this planet, there was a machine created by the Technological Magician Yandroth, a machine called the Omegatron. It had been defeated a number of times, but Kyle had restored it as not only a piece of Defenders memorabilia but for someone to talk to about his adventures.

The stark angular features of the Omegatron simply stared back at Kyle as he narrated, silently wishing to die in binary.

“So, I know Valkyrie lives in New York and both Daimon and Gargoyle would feel something on the ethers, so I am putting out feelers. I want them to know the Defenders are needed once more!” Kyle announced, leaning out of the window awkwardly and shooting a flare into the sky. It exploded into a giant ‘D’ hoping to call the Defenders into action. At the same time he set loose the only mystical artefact Strange had ever let him keep, something to call all magicians associated with the Defenders.

Now, all Kyle would need to do was wait.

“Fancy watching some more Battlestar, Omega? I’ve heard it gets really good about Season Two.” He dropped himself down on the couch and flicked on the TV. Silently, the repetitive zeroes and ones screamed for release inside the Omegatron’s head.

Some Hours Later…

A knock came at the door and Kyle snapped awake. He’d dozed off somewhere between an hour and two hours ago. He grabbed his mask from the table and slid it over his face, even though he was wearing a loose T-Shirt and a pair of jeans with no shoes. Opening the door, the entirety of the Defenders and a few others stood.

“My…symbol worked! We should have done this in the old days,”

“No, Kyle, we should not. Why didn’t you simply call one of us?” Hellcat asked, pushing her way into the flat followed by an irritated looking Daimon.

“Congratulations, Richmond, you’re an idiot.” He shook his head as Patsy shot him a skull melting glare.

“Oh, right. Exes. Crap. Sorry guys. Wait…Who are you lot?” Kyle asked, as a couple of other non-Defenders filtered into his flat.

“Right, pleasure to meet you,” the man dressed in a blue military suit with a large shield emblazoned on it reached out a hand to Kyle.

“Blue...Shield?” Kyle asked, arching an eyebrow as a woman with giant red wings and straight arrow hair pushed her way in and headed towards the fridge.

“Uhh...help yourself? Sorry…Is it Blue Shield?” Kyle asked again, the man smiled and nodded fervently.

“You’ve heard of me? I used to work for Project PEGESUS but...”

“Uh. No, I haven’t, I’m afraid, but you’re dressed in blue and have a massive shield on your chest. It’s a bit on the nose, isn’t it?”

The Blue Shield’s face dropped and he just walked into the flat. Another old friend pushed passed and waved a phone at Kyle.

“You never call!” Gargoyle spat as he trudged into the kitchen. “Do you have tea? I want some tea.”

“I have tea in the cupboard, Issac. It’s nice to see you, but I don’t have your new phone though…is that a Blackberry?”

Looking around the room Kyle noticed that everyone had a mobile phone, iPhones and Blackberrys, trading numbers and pictures. Daimon was apparently showing Devil-Slayer an email that might interest him.

“Wait…does everyone have mobiles here? Like, really expensive ones? How do you all afford this stuff?” Kyle asked, as Valkyrie finished kissing her boyfriend. Was it her boyfriend? He had a long face and two large curling horns growing from the back of his head. His cloven hooves clicked as he walked through the thresh-hold

“Greetings, Kyle Richmond, I am Woodgod.” He extended a hand, or paw, to Kyle as Valkyrie slapped him on the shoulder.

“Kyle, you really have to get with the times. I saw the signal first, I was with Woody in the park, and I emailed everyone your address. Blue Shield and Red Raven have been working with Woody and I recently,”

“What are you, the color corps or something? Ugh, everything’s changing here,” Kyle thumbed over to a somewhat inhabited spot of his flat, gesturing for Valk to follow him. Alone.

“Samantha, what’s happened to your accent?” Kyle asked. Maybe she’d lost her powers.

“Brunnhilde left me, sort of,” Samantha revealed, leaning on Kyle’s kitchen counter. She looked obviously sad about it, but wasn’t quite ready to open up. “I’ve got her blessing and some power but…I’m not quite the warrior woman I was,”

Kyle nodded and pointed to the other Defender mainstays.

“Devil Slayer and Daimon are getting on well, I see,”

“Yeah, they speak to each other a lot. They’re both independent contractors now. Daimon got ousted from Hell about six months ago, and tried to return to his life as a paranormal detective and exorcist. There’s a rumor going around that he is trying to get ordained again,” Samantha said, as Patsy Walker breezed past the pair, moving directly toward the Blue Shield.

“How’s Patsy taking his return?” Kyle asked, more than a little worried for her. He’d always been attracted to the former model, but had said nothing. He didn’t want to upset her or put her off. Their friendship was important to him, as were so many of the heroes who worked with the Defenders.

“Badly. She’s been rebounding from man to man and, most recently, she’s been trying to talk to Brother Voodoo about getting down with him. He’s a strong man, our Jericho,” Samantha said with a smile. Woodgod was talking to Red Raven as the rest of the group milled around Kyle’s small flat. “Why did you call us up here, Kyle?” Samantha asked. It was only now that he noticed that her costume wasn’t a costume at all. The only tell tale sign of her involvement with heroics was the sword attached to her waist. She looked very odd.

“No costume, either?” Kyle asked, arching an eyebrow.

Samantha smiled it off and waved a hand at him. “Times change, Kyle. You know most heroes don’t wear costumes anymore. I only wear the Valkyrie costume for Woody when we’re…you know.” She gave a nervous smile to Kyle who winked at her and looked away.

“Well, so long as the parents approve I suppose…”

“They don’t, which is…more wonderful than you can image, Kyle.” She beamed at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Kyle knew Samantha’s parents were over bearing, rich and foolish, pouring their money into resources and ideas that shouldn’t have money put into them. Kyle remembered Sam telling him of her first meeting with the Hulk, after her Father tried to ‘save him’. Sam had calmed the Hulk down, but her father had taken all the credit.

“I know what you mean…well, I suppose I should get this show on the road,” Kyle said, clearing his throat.

The room went quiet, well all except for Daimon who tried to continue his conversation with Devil Slayer. Fortunately for Kyle, Eric Payne was somewhat more well mannered than the Son of Satan.

“Fellow Defenders, and well, New Defenders?” Kyle questioned, holding his hands in the air. “Those of you who I’ve fought side by side with know that the so called ‘Big Four’ never really had much love for us. They were wrapped up in their own individual things, Namor with his Kingdom for example, they never really took the time to get to know us beyond our role in this ‘team’.” He made movements with his fingers to put the emphasis on team.

As he paced towards the group from behind his kitchen table, he continued. “They’ve gone now and the world probably needs the Defenders more than ever…”

“Probably?” Red Raven scoffed, causing Hellcat to nudge her in the arm while stifling a laugh herself.

“Yes, probably. We’re needed, all of us, or as many of you who’re willing to step up to the challenge of being a Defender. We’re not the Avengers, we’re not in this for accolades or fame, we’re in this because it’s the RIGHT thing to do. We’re heroes, dammit! It’s time we started to act like it and step up to the challenge,”

“If we’re not Avengers, then what? They’re the biggest group of heroes this side of the X-Men, how can we compete with them?” Blue Shield asked, with Daimon this time scoffing at him.

“Boy Scout.,” he muttered under his breath, shooting a mischievous smile at Hellcat, who ultimately ignored him after a minute of holding his gaze.

“You’re looking at it wrong, Shield,” Kyle continued, removing his suit jacket and taking off his mask finally. They must have thought he was mad. “We’re not trying to compete at all. We’re the Defenders; we’re not rival corporations and, trust me, that’s something I know about. We’re super-heroes and we’re out there to save lives, not face. The Avengers can Avenge something, we’re here to DEFEND,” Kyle shouted, looking at the gathered people before him. Valkyrie started off a faint round of applause that began and ended with her. She looked slightly embarrassed.

After a few moments of silence, Gargoyle put down the tea he’d made himself and leaned back in Kyle’s kitchen chair, cracking his back and stretching his wings.

“I'm in, Richmond,” he said in no uncertain terms.

“Count us in as well,” Valkyrie said, speaking for herself and Woodgod. The Blue Shield nodded, as Daimon shrugged his shoulders.

“Why the fuck not, right?” He smiled, as they all began to congregate around Kyle. Devil Slayer handed Kyle his mask and pulled something from his shadow cloak.

“Kyle, I have something for you,” he said quietly. Richmond smiled, wondering what it could be. Some ancient talisman to give him good luck, a weapon to further augment his strength in darkness. “If you’re going to do this you need to get in contact with us a better way than a flare.” Devil Slayer opened his hand and Kyle’s thoughts were waylaid for a short period with shock. “It’s a Blackberry with our numbers on it, Kyle,”

“Hrmph. Defenders Assemble,”

To Be Continued...

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