Part 6
It's been a week since our night in San Francisco.
It was one hell of a night, but everything worked out. There were some casualties, they've been memorialized, but it's not the worst thing that ever happened to San Francisco.
Honestly, I'm just happy that the place didn't burn to the ground. Perhaps you're aware of what happened in 1906, dear readers.
Or, to cite a more recent and more RELEVANT example, what Vulcanus did to Old Las Vegas.
We cleaned up behind us, and things are going back to normal in San Fran. Venom's gone right back to protecting their city, more popular than ever.
There is just one small oddity: Tom's old owner, a lawyer by the name of Michelle Howard, seems to have gone missing. No one who was involved with the evacuation remembers evacuating her, or even seeing her that night, and her office at the law firm she works at was completely trashed.
We think she spent the night hiding there, so that's her last known location.
We asked her bosses, and they said that they don't know where she is, just that, if she ever shows her face, she's mega-fired.
Their exact words.
As I guessed, the fluffies infected by Carnage had their codices purged by the force field. All the tests came back negative.
Whatever Carnage was planning with those codices, he ain't doing it now.
Fortunately, Venom was able to get through the whole thing without their secret identity being exposed.
Well, they spent most of it masked up.
That was a deliberate decision on their part.
The Carnage squad, still to be formally named, has gone back to work, hunting down the remaining scraps of the Carnage Klyntar, and Sander's working on a new spell that should, hopefully, help with that.
He finally accepted the offer to join the team, as did Mervin, who has been diligently working at putting the finishing touches on the Merge-O-Matic with Valerie.
I'm also still working on a name for the magical squad too, which Sander and Mervin will both be on, obviously.
I'm putting Floris the druid on there too. He's already in the Green Thumbs, but he won't be the only member to be on two squads.
For example, Gizmo is on the Nerd Squad and the Monster Party.
Billy's still on the fence about joining. But he can have all the time he needs to think it through before he makes his choice.
He has the wisdom of Odin guiding him.
I'm not sure if relying on the wisdom of a god is the best idea...
Other than that... it's back to the regular routine. Kick ass (or prod buttock), save lives, hunt for our enemies at large, question the ones in our custody.
Danny and Ghost are still training with Akira and Wukong, and seeing if Ghost can do that super ghostly wail too.
Kinda bummed I missed that.
But Symona's almost ready for me and Marley to copy her power.
So when Carnage comes back, that's another trump card in my pocket.
You know, when Danny was just fourteen, his parents built a very strange machine.
It was designed to view a world unseen.
Sadly, Danny's parents are a pair of ghost-obsessed crackpots who had no idea what the fuck they were doing, so the machine never actually worked.
It's not like he got his powers by walking into the damn machine and pushing random buttons.
He's X-Positive, remember? I copied his invisibility and intangibility. I couldn't do that if he wasn't X-Positive.
Even if the machine DID work, why would they put the on switch INSIDE it?
His parents are crazy, but they're not that crazy.
For the record, none of their "inventions" that were supposed to be badass ghost-busting weapons worked, unless an explosion splattering green goop all over the room was the desired result.
Danny's parents said that it was ectoplasm, but he tasted it when they weren't looking, and according to him, it tasted suspiciously like lime Jell-O and diet cola.
He swears that one of those half-baked contraptions was just a big green dreamcatcher on a pole.
And don't even get him started on the "ghost containment unit".
It looked an awful lot like a Thermos with green stripes painted on it...
Argyrum's fully regenerated, and is now staying at Erwin's place, getting settled in.
Hershey is the only one in that house who could be called NORMAL.
Yeah, seeing as her housemates are a scientist who has a riding armor and a power armor, an artificial Omega Class who was once brainwashed to be a Nazi, a robot fluffy with more gadgets than Inspector Gadget, and now, a sentient, shiny, shapeshifting slimeball from space.
And fluffies are only really normal from a certain point of view, even when they aren't robots.
Normal's a subjective thing, Cal. To someone who was born and grew up in a world fulla fluffies, fluffies are normal.
I was a kid when the Hasbio break-in happened. I still remember the world before fluffies. Before Cleveland was destroyed, before... all of this.
Yup, back when everything was nice and peaceful, and the normos didn't know how crowded the universe really was.
And as we've already discussed in the past, the world was never as normal as they thought.
It must have been a relief for everyone else to not have to hide from the normos anymore.
Dude, I can't imagine what it would be like if the ChaotiX had to keep our powers secret.
Doc didn't want us to go full Men in Black.
Erasing someone's memories can actually do a lot of damage to their mind if you're not careful.
There's a reason that burying those memories is the preferred method.
Even if it's not as permanent.
Then there's Ugly Sweater Guy, who has gone back to playing his game with Chaos.
He's starting to feel more comfortable around me, but it's not like he wants to be friends.
At best, he's begrudgingly tolerating my presence, and only for so long.
So I haven't really spoken to him a lot since our chat at Oracle Park, but Chaos and the people I've got keeping an eye on Ugly Sweater Guy will keep me updated.
He's no hero, but he's not purely a villain, either.
Perhaps it was for the best that Chaos began playing the game when he did.
Yup. It gave Ugly Sweater Guy a good hard push away from the Asshole Event Horizon. If he was still abusing fluffies in Detroit, associating with his abuser friends...
I don't want to think about that scenario.
But you're right yet again, Niv.
Ugly Sweater Guy is on the road to redemption, but he's still got a long way to go.
I'm planning to have Alpha and/or Dave go talk with him, and share their stories.
Dave's totally on board with Al's idea of a support group for former villains, and has the idea to do the same for former abusers.
Well, technically, Al is both. "Projekt Caldroid" killed a LOT of fluffies.
Those were Hans' kills, not Al's.
And I'd be surprised if there weren't any other fluffy-killing robots out there in our branch of the multiverse.
CQK-1 told me about one robot in particular on the O.M.A.'s watchlist. I think it's got four lights on its face instead of, well, a face.
And CQK-1 reassured me that the O.M.A. is ready to intervene the moment a version of that robot becomes a multiversal threat.
They would love to arrest every version of that robot now, but the rules they abide by forbid it. They're supposed to deal with threats that can't be contained to a single timeline. Problems too big for only one of me to solve.
Naturally, they're also ready to act against the Devourer and the Light of Peace, which are, to be frank, much worse threats than a robot that kills fluffies.
If that robot goes from killing fluffies to killing timelines, though, then the O.M.A. will be allowed to stop it.
You think Anti-Calvin might recruit an alternate of that robot? He already recruited another Al, didn't he?
You're forgetting the fact that he's recruiting alternates of ChaotiX members, Niv.
Yeah, and I wouldn't recruit a robot like the one Numero Uno told me about without having Val program an entire new personality for it first.
Madam Valerie has done it before.
Anyway, we've got more important things to talk about.
Like those support groups for former villains and abusers.
There's a bit of overlap sometimes, so Dave and Al will be working together on this.
Dave says that he'd be happy to invite Ugly Sweater Guy, if the guy is willing to show up.
Which isn't likely, because Dave and Al are both ChaotiX members.
I hope that Ugly Sweater Guy is at least willing to give it a go, because he could really use something like that. Alcoholics have AA, but there should be something like that for recovering fluffy abusers too.
If they want to atone, if they truly regret what they've done to fluffies, they deserve a second chance.
If they don't regret it, and won't stop hurting fluffies until they're stopped by force...
Well, we have plenty of force to stop them with.
Let's see which way Ugly Sweater Guy chooses to go.
Right now, me and Marley are on the Snowflake, where Zephyr's concert in orbit is in full swing.
Seth was in San Francisco too, using his Guitaxe to rock the Carnage out of those fluffies so Andre could pull them to safety.
That's his guitar with the retractable axe blades. He's not using that guitar today.
The room is packed, the band rocking out on stage, the crowd singing along with Seth.
The band's fluffies are chilling over in the meeting room, which is serving as the green room right now. It's a bit too loud for the average fluffy here.
🎵 "Teeth like scythe blades chomping! And blue burning ey-eeee-eyes! Through the jungle stomping! As the T-Rex diiii-eeee-iiiies!" 🎵
It's one of their songs from the album with the band riding the Death of Tyrannosaurus Rexes on the cover, if that wasn't obvious.
I look up at Marley, floating above the crowd, singing along too.
For once, it's nice for the two of us to not be in the spotlight.
What happened in San Francisco last week wasn't really about us, but it became about me anyway by the end.
If you're curious about the logistics of this concert, we portalled everyone up here in groups, and we'll be portalling everyone straight to their homes after the concert. Harry's here, Moe also in the meeting room, the rest of the band's families are here, so are multiple ChaotiX members, and I've already bumped into Bulk too.
Akira brought Venny, and they made a beeline for the living quarters. Betcha can't guess what THEY'RE doing right now, dear readers!
I don't think they need to guess, Niv.
If you remember Seth mentioning that Bulk would be coming, you can probably imagine what Bulk looks like.
He's the Australian Hulk Hogan. Use your imagination.
Before you ask: yes, he trims his chest hair in the shape of Australia.
It was a gigantic pain in the ass to prepare the Snowflake and get everyone up here, but the band thinks it was worth it to be the first band to hold a concert in orbit.
Well, the first band from Earth, but let them have this.
Maybe we should think about expanding this place.
Can't be that hard with the tech we've got, right?
As the song comes to an end, the crowd cheers, the band all basking in the applause.
Then Seth takes the mic.
"We all having a good time, folks?"
Again, the crowd cheers, confirming that yes, they are having a good time.
"Great! Because I've got something to say before we start the next number! Now, as those of you who have been following us since our humble beginnings probably know, we weren't performing as Zephyr when we started out. We used a different name back then! And considering certain developments that have unfolded since then..."
Wallace, Terrence and Cindy all grin knowingly, and Void rolls her eyes, blowing her bangs out of her face.
Seth continues.
"We've been talking, and we've made a decision: over the next few months, we will be going back to our original name, which turned out to be very fitting in hindsight!"
He points up, at the word "ZEPHYR" floating in glowing letters above the stage.
An illusion, conjured by the band's pyrotechnics wizard waiting off stage.
He's a literal wizard, and not wearing a robe.
"So say goodbye to that, folks! Soon, you'll be seeing a different name above the stage! Say goodbye to Zephyr..."
Seth glances at the wizard off stage, mouthing the word "Go."
I see the wizard nod, and hear him whisper a spell.
And the letters above the stage change, Seth grinning widely.
"And say hello again to... the Elementals!"
Meanwhile, down on Earth, in the small town near Blueberry's Forest, a brown Subaru Tribeca parks outside the motel, across the street from the KFC.
The driver, a man with rather shark-like features, gets out.
"Here we are. This is as close to fucking Korkeaopolis as I'm gonna get."
After grabbing two suitcases from the trunk, he looks at the motel, and grins.
"Ooh, cozy. Alright, let's get checked in."
And as he walks into the filthy, sleazy motel, he snickers softly.
"I need to make a very important phone call soon. I hope my best buddy hasn't changed his number..."
Somewhere in the Canadian wilderness, the Octovirate of Darkness' camper van drives down a forest road.
Dehak, sitting in the passenger seat as usual, turns to the Hungry Rider, driving as usual.
"Remind me why we aren't just taking the direct route there, Rider?"
“We're taking the back roads because we don't want to draw attention. Haste makes waste. That, and we don't have a lot of money to pay tolls, which limits our possible routes.”
"When we rule this world, there will be tolls to be paid on every road. And it won't end there, I'm trying to work out a way to make people pay for air, too. I've always felt like it's best not to let the peasantry have too much money. Better to have them stay poor, struggling to survive from day to day. It keeps them busy, so busy that they just don't have the time to rebel. I'll welcome any excuse to shake them down and deprive them of money they could put towards, say, escaping from our rule, or trying to fight us. It's a win-win."
“Dehak, my man, you are going to LOVE America.”
"You say that, Rider, but when we got to Ah-lass-kuh, it seemed dreadfully dull. I've lowered my expectations for Ammy-rika."
“For the last time, it's America, A-MER-I-CA, and it's not ALL as boring as Alaska. There's forests, deserts, plains, badlands, mountains, you name it, it's SOMEWHERE in the country. One of the things I've always loved about America is that, if you don't like the part of it you're currently in, you're GUARANTEED to find somewhere else that's more to your liking, without ever leaving America's borders.”
"Your tales of your homeland fascinate me deeply, Rider. I'd love to see it for myself."
“Well, if you can figure out how to get us past the tollbooths without spending any money, using any magic, AND drawing any attention, I could get us there faster.”
"You know, I have money. I cleaned out my vault before I left the crypt, I've saved up enough gold drakes over the centuries for us to unlive like kings. It's easy to save money when you don't need to eat."
Varney, lying on the overcab bed and reading a book from Dehak's bag, idly turns a page.
"But paying in gold coins bearing a language barely spoken on Earth and faces no one recognizes from their history books is bound to draw attention. And look at us. We're a very strange group. So we are extremely lucky that we haven't been spotted yet."
“The closer we get to Korkea's city, the more likely we are to be caught. We're playing a dangerous game, here.”
The Many is curled up with Varney.
"An dey am makin it weawwy hawd tu git back intu Ah-mewwih-kuh."
Shadow Calvin is still sitting on the bed in the back, utterly silent.
The Rider scoffs.
“Just be glad that we're not trying to get in via MEXICO, guys. THOSE poor bastards have it harder than us. And I've never heard anyone complain about CANADIANS stealing jobs, even though like half of Hollywood is Canadian...”
Dehak raises a stringy eyebrow.
"So what is the other half of this... Holy Wood?"
“To be blunt, the other half is mainly Jewish, but, in all fairness, the Jews pretty much BUILT Hollywood. It's the same as Jews and banking: Christians were forbidden from lending money with interest, so the Jews started doing one of the few jobs they were ALLOWED to have, and now they're stereotyped as greedy money-grubbers. What the fuck did the Christians THINK would happen? You treat someone like a dog, they'll start barking sooner or later.”
"I don't know a damn thing about Kristy-yuns or Joos, so I'll just have to take your word for it, Rider."
“They're both religions here on Earth, Dehak.”
"Oh, then they're both going. Even the gods will come to fear the might of the Devourer, gentlemen. I've always wanted to start my own religion, anyway. I could call it--"
“Dehakism?”
"Very lucky guess, Rider."
“Look, we've been working together for a while now, and we've been living, or UNLIVING in this camper since Russia. By now, I've got an idea of what makes you tick. You love to self-promote.”
"It's hardly my fault that I have to remind the drooling, gibbering, idiotic masses of my greatness so frequently. It should be evident to even the most foolish of fools."
Varney turns another page.
"We have not forgotten that you are the one who brought the Octovirate together, Dehak. You do not have to remind us."
"As long as you haven't forgotten who wears the crown around here, Varney."
"Yu nu am weaw-in a cwown."
"No, but give it time. I'll have a bigger and better crown than Lorik's."
“So what will you do with HIS crown?”
Dehak chuckles.
"I think I'll have it melted down. While it's still on his head."
In Oakland, California, a rat crawls through the sewers, looking for food.
The rat smells something unusual up ahead, and it doesn't smell like cat, so the rat decides to investigate.
From a storm drain, something red and slimy is dripping down into the sewers, forming a puddle.
The rat cautiously crawls up to the puddle, nudging it with a paw.
"Squeak?"
Then the slime springs to life, and latches onto the rat.
"SQUEEEEEEEEEE... ...ueeee hee hee hee..."
Up above and across the bay, on the rooftop of the law firm that Michelle Howard once worked at, Anti-Venom watches Venom swing past the window of her former office.
thwip
Venom doesn't realize that they're being watched.
The scent of Anti-Venom's inverted Klyntar has been altered so much to become unrecognisable.
And undetectable.
"The stupid shitrat doesn't REALLY think I still work there, does he?"
Anti-Venom turns around and runs, leaping away via the rooftops.
"I think I'm meant for GREATER things than getting white-collar criminals off the hook for their crimes, anyway. Heh. White-collar."
They're still working to clean out Michelle's office after she spent all night hiding in it.
Her bosses learned the gross way where she was going to the bathroom.
But all their efforts to render that office inhabitable again may be for naught.
You see, when the ChaotiX began investigating Michelle's disappearance...
Victor learned how crooked the firm is.
Far beyond reality, in the obscenely named headquarters of the Anti-ChaotiX, Anti-Calvin and Anti-Pierre meet in the laboratory.
Anti-Pierre is holding a test tube, filled with a translucent red liquid.
"As you can see, Boss, the formula was finished with time to spare. It's ready to go. So will you be using it now?"
Anti-Calvin, masked as always, takes the tube, putting it in a pouch of his battle suit, stolen from one of his counterparts after murdering him in cold blood.
"Not yet. This time, my pussy twin and his Marley aren't just going to stand there and gawp like a pair of morons while I use it. As long as I use it before I run into them, I'm good."
"And do you have any idea when that is?"
"When we're ready to make our move, Anti-Doc. Speaking of, who do we have lined up to recruit next?"
"Let me check the files..."
Elsewhere outside conventional time and space, in the Gilgamesh, M-62 sits in the command center with his allies from Timeline-1989.
M-62 is wearing the helmet that allows him to control the Gilgamesh mentally, his tendril harness obediently waiting in the corner.
"Are you ready, gentlemen?"
Gaspar nods.
"We've been ready for a while, Marley."
"Weww, nao da wait am oba."
M-62 grins.
"That's right, Zebby. Now, we'll be one step closer to getting what we need to finish our pet project: temporary vessels for the souls we've yet to extract."
"Can we nu jus put dem in a jaw?"
"Souls are kind of intangible, Zebby. And don't forget, if there isn't anything binding them to the living realm, a soul can't stay there for long. You need specialized equipment to store a soul for long, you know. And hopefully, we'll find something like that on this salvage run."
Melchior speaks up in an impatient tone.
"So let's get going already, so we can find those vessels and do lunch."
Belthasar shrugs.
"I'm not really hungry, but you are right. Marley, get this thing moving."
M-62 grins as he assumes direct control over his vessel.
"Next stop: the Edge of Eternity. Fingers crossed, gentlemen."
"Zebby nu eben haf fin-guws."
"...I'll see if I can't do something about that after this, Zebby."