“Greetingz, Nihel. You may call me Dr. Menace.”
“Certainly.”
“If I may inquire, what bringz you to our world?”
He tilted his head to one side as she spoke. “You have a most curious accent, Dr. Menace.”
“I am from Romania,” she said.
“Ah, Romania. In your Earthim year 1859, with the support of the ‘French,’ Cuza was elected to the thrones of Moldavia and Wallachia, creating a national state which would later take the name ‘Romania’ in your 1862 I believe.”
Dr. Menace was taken aback.
“It would seem I have some explaining to do,” he said in answer to her surprise.
“Indeed. But not here. Perhapz back at my lab?”
“An Earthim scientific establishment? It should prove interesting.”
“It iz not far from here.”
It was his turn to give a quizzical look. “We know that you Earthim have strange customs, but to build your institutions of scientific experimentation in these conditions?”
And it was her turn to almost laugh. “Yez, well. You could say that my conditionz are a bit unique.”
“Do tell.”
“You may find thiz quite a surprize, but I am conzidered to be something of a villain by my society.”
“Ah,” he nod and looked at the sky. It was mostly blue save for a shock of thick clouds three or more layers deep by the horizon. “I get that as well.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we?’
She slid her arm to interlock with his, “Yez.”
__________
10:26 a.m., Eastern Standard Time.
“So what you’re telling me,” Nuklear Man said. “Is that the N on your chests don’t stand for Nuklear Man, but for Nihel.”
“Yes,” they answered in weary unison.
“I see.” Nuklear Man paced back and forth. He was afforded little space in which to move thanks to the circle of alien villains around him.
“Finally,” Dakael mumbled. Variel leaned in his direction which was more than enough to silence him.
“In that case,” the Hero proclaimed, pointing to the heavens, cape billowing. “This Nihel character is in direct violation of our copyright laws which, I might add, frown heavily on this sort of blatant plagiarism! I could sue.”
Each of the five groaned.
“I could, you know. I know this lawyer, Count Insidious. He’s got a cape and everything. He’s so good he put me in jail for crimes against humanity that I didn’t even get the chance to commit, or so I’m told, which is a shame ‘cause they sounded pretty fun. Heh, yer in for it now. He’s ruthless. I hope you can swim, ‘cause yer goin’ up the creek without a paddle!”
The five were silent.
“Hm. How about, I hope you’ve got exact change because you’re about to go on a bus ride?”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Safriel snapped.
“Silence!” Variel nonthundered.
“Stuff it, Var. You can preach about Nihel’s righteousness until you’re, well, less black in the face, but Arel here is obviously out of his mind.”
Nuklear Man blinked. “Y’sure you don’t mean Carl?”
“Please forgive her insolence, Lord Arel,” Variel said while bowed on one knee. His piercing silver stare shot to Safriel, “She is young and impetuous. She knows not what madness she speaks.”
“Well, that makes two of us, I can tell you that,” Nuklear Man said.
“There does seem to be something
amiss
with his Lordship,” Gadriel meekly offered. “Perhaps he is suffering from some malady, temporary of course, from which we must liberate him.”
“So who is this Arel guy anyway?” Nuklear Man asked. “And do you shmoes have last names or what? I’m certain that’s the kind of pertinent detail my lawyer will want so I can sue each of you.”
Dakael stepped forward. “It’s almost as if the Arel whom we know and fear has been subsumed by this, this,” he searched for just the right word.
“This living incarnation of the endless drivel produced by this planet,” his partner Kadael finished. “Not that we mean any disrespect, of course.”
Variel shook his head, his eyes nearly communicating dismay before glimmering with their usual unblinking quality.
“Oh, hey!” Nuklear Man said, his face alighted with joyous realization. “Have you guys seen five villain types tearing up the city? They’re supposed to be around here somewhere. I think. My mind tends to wander when ol’ Doc Genius is talking, if ya knows what I means. Winkity-wink.”
“This is embarrassing to witness,” Safriel groaned.
“Wait a second.” The Hero’s Nuklear Quick Brain kicked it into high gear. “You guys are here, you’re committing copyright violation, and there’s five of you, give or take.”
“Here it comes,” Safriel announced with mock enthusiasm.
“
You
guys are the villains!”
“Lord Arel,” Variel said. “You must remember your Fate.”
His name shall be Arel, the true name of fire.
“Hey,” Nuklear Man protested. “Get your crazy voices out of my head, there’s enough of those up there already.”
What has been written will be burned in his flames. What will come to pass shall be no more.
“I mean it, stop or it’s smashin’ time.”
Fate, unmade and rewoven, a new tapestry by the design of gods who have thrown off their shackles.
“Last call.”
In the flames there will be purity. There will be rebirth. And from the ashes, there will be a choice where none existed before.
“That did it. PLAZMAAA BEAM!!!”
__________
Issue 51 – A Long Time Ago, on the Other Side of the Galaxy…
Mighty Metallic Magno Man, Shiro the Tetsu Samurai, and Angus the Iron Scotsman exited the Metroville Museum of Natural History and walked down the wide stairs that led from it to the street. Norman’s wide strides skipped every other step as Angus and Shiro’s legs pumped so fiercely that they were blurs of motion just to keep up with him.
“Slow down, ye daft metal-skinned ox!” Angus barked between gasps for air.
The Tungsten Titan came to a stop whereupon Angus ran into one of Norman’s legs as Shiro did same to the other. Both fell one stair back onto their armored arses.
“Norman-san is the success at being heavy with size. Like dragon of falling mountain unto who is me,” Shiro observed while readjusting his Tetsu: Samurai Helm. Its demon-visage mask wasn’t deployed. That was used purely for business purposes.
“Tell me about it,” Angus grumbled. The Surly Scot did a double take at the narration with a very audible
ker-boink
sound. “Ah’ve goot ta lay off the whisakey. That laddie’s startin’ to make sense!”
“Hey, sorry guys,” Norman said. He turned around to help them up by offering a pointer finger to each.
“Hai. Of favors are large with you,” Shiro thanked.
Angus’s armor rattled as he shook with rage.
“Just kidding,” Norman said in a laugh. Each of his hands enveloped one of their little arms and hoisted them up simultaneously. “There.”
They continued down the stairs, this time at a pace more befitting the shorter heroes present.
“Well,” Angus said, slapping his Iron Gauntleted hands together with a metallic clank sound. “What’d everybody think o’ the exhibit?”
Shiro opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it. His eyes darted left and right to look for the perfect answer. “Angus-san is of having, um, interesting.”
“Aye, ye damned tootin’ it was interestin’. How about ye, Norman?”
“Er,” Norman donned a pair of superfly cool shades even though it was barely eleven o’clock in the morning. “I don’t know quite what to say.”
“Aye,” Angus resounded with his first true smile of the story. “It has that effect, ye know. It’s majestic. It’s profound. It’s—”
“It’s a bunch of wax statues of guys wearing plaid skirts,” Norman finished.
“Thems be
kilts
, laddie,” Angus said with a calm monotone that, when combined with the twitching of his right eye, was more terrifying than his usual furious roaring.
Norman shrugged. “Still looked like skirts to me.”
Angus quaked and sputtered. “They be the mark o’ bravery, the garb of a true warrior, ye soon-to-be pummeled oaf!”
They reached the sidewalk and Metroville’s late morning foot-traffic swarmed around them, probably in search of early lunches. “Yeah,” Norman said. “You’d have to be pretty brave to run around in women’s clothing.”
“That does it!”
Shiro pulled his helmet down to hide from the ensuing devastation that was sure to follow.
“DWARF-A—”
KLONG
“...What?!”
Norman had magnetized Angus’ Iron: Battlesuit to his tungsten leg so the Dwarven Warrior couldn’t budge. “Settle down. I was just messing with you.” He released the magnetic vice grip and Angus fell onto his armored arse again.
“Bah. Kilts ain’t nothin to be jokin’ around about. Ye laddies today don’t have respect. Back in my day—”
“Waiting is now,” Shiro interrupted. “Essence of time, like the hour glass that fading. Eleven o’clock.”
“Hm,” Norman said. He inspected his Magno: Watch. His face twisted in disappointment. “Man, this thing hasn’t worked right ever since that Chrono-Dork fooled with it before Nukie’s party.”
Angus checked his Iron: Watch. “Aye, its eleven. We needs to get a move on if we’re meetin’ Atomik Laddie an’ Rachel at the maall, it’s on the other side o’ town.”
“Letting those who is us now to be rolling!” Shiro declared.
“What are ye talkin’ about? We walked here.”
“Hai,” he answered with a proud bow.
“Ye could at least make sense when ye ain’t makin’ sense!”
__________
A huge iron door slid to one side, cutting a blade of light deep into the darkness. The wound opened wide until it boomed to a stop. Two shadows invaded the rectangle of light that had been thrown against the dusty floor. One slender, moving like liquid; the other seemingly carved from marble. They stepped through the doorway, the smaller figure reaching straight out to one side, her hand resting on a panel set against the inner wall. Tiny positive sounding beeps echoed through the immense structure. The beeps terminated and the great door rushed shut with an impact reverberating through the complex. The blackness persisted for a second or two before a collection of lamps some twenty feet overhead flickered into illuminated life. Only the areas around Evil: Projects in various stages of design, production, and testing were well lit. The intervening distance between them was like the dark of space.
Nihel surveyed the Evil: Lair’s contents with several sweeps of his cold gray eyes. “Fascinating.” He walked into the vast warehouse like an archaeologist entering a perfectly preserved ancient city.
“Yez, well. I do what I can.”
“Then you do it quite well,” Nihel said while walking deeper into the catacombs.
“I’m sorry if the decor izn’t to your liking. I am a villain, you know. I have certain standardz I’m suppozed to adhere to for the sake of appearances,” Dr. Menace apologized while following him inside.
“I know how that is,” he said while surveying the various Evil: Equipment scattered throughout the Evil: Lair.
“But why, not that I’m complaining of courze, why did you chooze to vizit thiz area of the city firzt?”
Nihel turned to face Dr. Menace as he walked among her creations. “Simple. It is well documented in the Great Disk that your Metroville is the greatest civic accomplishment of your people. I was curious to see its wonders first hand. I decided to begin in the most decrepit area possible and then work my way up to its population and business centers. Any suggestions?”
“I’d say the mall, but you should be quick about it. It’z hell to go there once all the annoying little high zchool bratz start running around.”
“The mall. Yes. That’s such a perfect slice of your bland Earthim consumer culture. I wouldn’t think you much of a frequenter of one, though.”
Dr. Menace grinned. “The closezt RadioHutt iz there. It iz an anarchizt’s bezt friend.”
“And here I thought you wished to change the world. Instead, I find a mere anarchist?”
“Deztroy the prezent society and anarchy reignz. The people, lozt, alone, afraid, they will want a strong, charizmatic leader to tell them what to do. If a temporary anarchy servez to further my inevitable domination, then so be it. I will not shy away.”
“Ruthless.” He approached the remains of the Evil: Negaflux Super Charging Chamber. Dr. Menace hadn’t removed it after Superion’s rampage a month previous.
Nihel crossed his arms and scrutinized the remains of the bulky device and its exposed innards with a piercing stare. What parts remained intact suddenly disassembled themselves. The machine unraveled into its component pieces which then hung in mid-air like some kind of technical diagram brought to life.
“Hm,” Nihel said. “This is, or rather was, some sort of Intrinsity Transformer, yes? It could imbue a subject with a vast array of powers based on the theory of Intrinsic Negation Field Force Manipulation.” He examined a few parts more closely.
“Temporarily at any rate.”
“Yez, but how did you...?”
The pieces reassembled themselves into the fractured whole once more. “I take it, by the unfortunate state of the device, that you were not able to compensate for the extreme psychological trauma engendered by the process.”
“Correct.”
“And also, due to your overall stable demeanor, it was not
you
who served as the test subject.”
“Correct again. But how did you know?”
“Not all civilizations welcomed the message of peace and learning that the Galactic Council carried between the stars,” Nihel said. “Similar devices were constructed to form an invincible army to be unleashed against the Core Worlds of the Council, especially Zurai. Unfortunately, they met with results similar to yours, only more widespread. They destroyed their own planet before they could ever wage their war against Zurai. The army, though insane to the last soldier, was functionally invincible even while floating uselessly in space. That is, until their powers ran dry without any more sessions in their Transformers. A Council ship investigating the planetary explosion found a prototype of the device, remains of documents concerning the invasion and other evidence on a colony or moon or some such. Devices such as this one have been forbidden within Council boundaries, as is understandable.”