[Sama in the MU] Part 12

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                -Uh, Dyna? Magneto is here. He says he had a standing invitation, and he has a bottle of wine.- came Bobby’s rather panicking /voice.

                -If he’s not in civvies, tell him to go away and come back in proper attire.-

                -Um... he is?- he /answered, rather shocked at my blasé response.

                -Oh, fine then. Send him down to sub-basement two, down to the far end. Don’t bother to follow. I’ve got Herc and Cain here, and Johnny. There’s no danger.-

                -Uh, right?- He was torn between absolute belief, amazement, and disbelief.

                A couple minutes later, there was a polite knock on the door. “Come in, Mr. Lensherr.”

                He pushed the door open without magnetics, stepped inside, and looked around in cool interest.

                He had on a polo shirt and breezy loose pants, looking like he was going out for a round of golf. He also had a bottle of wine in his arms as he looked around the room.

                “Mr. Lensherr, have a seat next to Hercules there, if you will, and don’t step on the runes on the ground.” He could feel the metal in the burning circles, gave me an odd look, and calmly stepped that way, stepping over the glowing ring of silver and gold, and sat down in the chair next to the Greek demigod, who returned his curious glance, but otherwise looked at me.

                “Are you ready for this, Johnny?” I asked him, my Claw out and poised in front of his chest. The leather-clad Johnny Blaze was already sweating, looking at me.

                “I’m really going to be free of this?” he asked me, staring at my Claw.

                “You will be free of Zarathos. As for what comes after... if you don’t want Mephisto fucking with you or your family again the same way, you know what to do.”

                He clenched his jaw and fist the same way. “Go ahead, do it!”

                My Claws surged with Stars and Suns, plunged in, raked down, coming from both high and low. He was screaming as they tore through him, but left no wounds behind, gathering on his heart, and circling around.

                Hellfire rose up around him... and kept rising. There was a laugh, in an unearthly, demonic voice, and the flaming skull of Zarathos began to congeal, growing higher, and higher, and higher.

                My hands circled, claws snipped, and there was an exultant cry as the hellfire fell, down and away, deeper than the ground, pouring off Blaze like water, and was gone.

                In response, a different area of the floor began to bubble and boil. Blaze had fallen to his knees, snot and tears coming down his face beyond his control, but he had almost a rictus grin of ecstasy on his face as he sat there.

                The diabolic figure all in red rising out of the ground twitched to my eyeballs. Eyes of hellfire scanned everyone present, narrowed at the implications, and then focused on me and Blaze. “You have broken our pact, Johnny Blaze!” the unearthly, insidious voice claimed, with a nasty undertone that indicated vengeance was forthcoming.

                “Can you direct me to the line on your compact where it indicated your chaining of Zarathos to a member of the Kale Bloodline could not be broken by an outside force? Ah, right, there isn’t one,” I shot back instantly.

                Now his attention swung fully back to me, and his fingers twitched with hellfire. “You dare interfere in my business, woman? Do you know the consequences for your actions?”

                I smiled at him. My Brand writhed on my face, I flexed my hands, and I laughed at him.

                The mocking, scornful laughter of a Hag is unique in all the planes, even a Rantha’s. His eyes opened wide despite himself. “You dare fuck around on the mortal plane, and you are not aware there are consequences when you are caught? What sort of idiot master manipulator are you?” I snapped my fingers.

                The Runes around Hercules and Magneto rose into the air in a display of ancient, yet beautiful white signs and sigils, geometric and powerful. Over on Cain’s side, the Juggernaut didn’t get up as the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak swirled up around him in an organic sealing pattern... and between the two, the Summoning Circle around Mephisto flared to cold, holy life, and he screeched in alarm.

                “Oh, don’t be a goddamn baby,” I sniffed at the ancient representative of all Evil. “You poked where you shouldn’t, and now you’re going to get punished, just like you should be. Master Lensherr, if you could use the bands under the floor; we need a watertight ball and seal around our unwelcome visitor here. I would like you to dump him deep in the Pacific. Take care not to disrupt the Circle.”

                The mutant master of magnetism raised an eyebrow, and then bands of steel below the floor began to writhe out and slowly and precisely seal together around the circle in a globe of metal.

                “Zarathos is free, by the way, and the feedback from severing the artificial bond to Blaze you gave him has restored his memory.

                “You’ve the power to break that circle, but it will cost you. Regardless, in a month it will ineffective, and you will be free, despite entering it of your own free will.” I looked forward and smiled at him widely. “I look forwards to seeing how long you decide to let Zarathos rampage over your realm and take back what is his. I can tell you that Cyttorak is watching from his Crimson Throne, and probably laughing his bloody arse off.” Flaming eyes looked over at the Juggernaut, whose eyes were glowing like brilliant rubies, giving off a distinct aura of ironic glee.

                Sheets of metal melded and merged together, sealing Mephisto from sight, and those floating runes of white and scarlet flowed together onto the metal, sealing it yet further.

                The roof of the sub-basement split open wide smoothly and soundlessly, and a great ball of rune-scribed steel launched to the skies, picking up speed rapidly as it headed west.

                “Thank you, Cain, Lord Cyttorak.” Cain slapped his hand to his head, got up and took a step forwards, breaking the Strands as his eyes returned to normal. “Johnny.” I looked down kindly at him. “You and Hercules are going out for some stiff drinks. You’re going to pay some hard attention, because whether you like it or not, your bloodline has ties to demons and gods, and specifically Spirits of Vengeance. You can’t get away from them as long as you live, and that goes for any children you might have, too.

                “Herc can talk to you about the legendary and mythic implications of what you are, and what you can be. But Cain Marko is here to show you he’s not afraid.

                “The number one force that kills Juggernauts has been Spirits of Vengeance.”

                Johnny’s eyes got really wide as he looked up at the looming Cain, who just put a huge hand on his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. Hercules came over and helped him to his feet, his big grin somehow grim, and already talking about how they would drown their sorrows like proper men.

                In a minute, only I and Lensherr were left in the room.

                “Shall I close the roof?” he asked politely, getting to his feet.

                “Please.” He gestured, and it silently swung shut. “Good timing. It would have been annoying to have to lift and fly that out there myself.”

                “It’s not every day one gets to participate in an exorcism, a summoning, and a banishment,” he murmured, as I gestured him towards the door. I walked out behind him and shut it behind me.

                “And meet one of the Princes of Hell, with an archdemon looking on and laughing as another archdemon is freed,” I added. “But, hey, superheroes, gods, demons; they all get mucked up together.”

                “Indeed.” We headed up the stairs, and he paused at the top for me to indicate where to go. I gestured out to the veranda, and led the way out to the table out there.

                “Several of your companions seem rather nervous around me,” he noted drily, doubtless aware of Iceman and Angel keeping out of sight.

                “Drake, Worthington, chop chop. If you’re going to peek, sit right here and don’t say anything.” I pulled a case out of my Masspack, set it down, opened it up, and brought out four glasses, and another bottle of wine. His eyebrows rose as my hair got everything ready, motioned for his bottle, received it, popped the cork, offered it for a smell, I smelled it myself, made a face of approval, and as Bobby and Warren hesitantly walked in, began to pour.

----

                We talked for hours. Once he realized that he couldn’t just use power to get his way, and remembered what it was like having to deal with other people equally or more powerful than he was, Mr. Lensherr proved to be intelligent, sociable, and erudite. There were elements of his beliefs that were uncompromising, but, surprisingly enough to him, I actually didn’t have problems with much of what he believed; I just wanted him to expand them, not change them!

                I gave him those three sets of folders that made Bobby and Warren puke. He looked through them with cold eyes, and his control said that he’d seen and lived worse.

                “There are people who want power, Erik,” I went on, having been given permission to call him by name some time before. “They are willing to do anything to get it. Human, mutant, mutate, alien, Deviant, gods, demons, wizards, vampires... the list does not end. They will prey on normal people to do it, they will prey on mutants, mutates, they will grow clones simply so they can do unspeakable things to them... they are ALL simply evil.

                “I don’t have a problem with you defending mutants. I have a problem with you defending JUST mutants, when you have seen what mutants AND humans will do to their own kind.”

                I opened the first folder. “Do you know who Irene Adler is?”

                His eyes flashed. “I have heard the name associated with Mystique...”

                “She is a mutant precog referred to as Destiny. Every week she makes a phone call, and the fortune she made from stock picking in a certain account was transferred into the operating budget of this facility.” His eyes opened slightly. “She sacrificed weak mutants for the purpose of cracking the code to the mutant gene. She believed it a right and necessary sacrifice.”

                I ignored the slight magnetic tremors as I took the second and the third folders, opened them to specific pages, and paused to give him an annoyed look. The magnetics calmed down. “Welcome to Nathan Sinister, who was once the most gifted doctor in charge of Hitler’s eugenics program.” The photos of the two men were not similar. “He is a mutate born in the late 1800’s, and has been experimenting on humans and mutants for nearly a hundred years. The source of his mutation is a fellow called En Sabah Nur, who Hercules has confirmed has been around since the time of the pharaohs, and is very likely the world’s oldest surviving mutant.

                “Also experimented on and a servant of the Celestials, and thus a contemporary of the Eternals, however unwillingly, and obsessed with a survival of the fittest doctrine. Since Sinister experiments on the weak and makes the strong stronger, En Sabah Nur doesn’t mind his experiments at all.

                “He is rumored and known in the mutant community by the far more appropriate name of Apocalypse.”

                Bobby and Warren swore aloud. Lensherr looked absolutely frigid.

                “The Nazis? For all their evil, they were pawns and puppets to a madman obsessed with genetics, who is in turn a servant to a fanatic Darwinist, who is turn a slave to the Celestials who made him who he is.

                “Humans, mutate, mutant, and uncaring Star Gods. Who exactly are you opposed to?

                “And before you get pissed at the Celestials... Hercules has also confirmed that it is the Celestials who gave the mutant gene to humans in ancient times, as well as creating the Deviants with their random heritages, and the Eternals in their ageless guardian duties. It is common knowledge among the divine pantheons.

                “Everything you are, in every way, you owe to the same entities... on both sides of the board.”

                His nostrils flared, and myriad emotions flowed across his face. He had a terrible history behind him, and that the mutant nature he was most proud of was given out by the same forces ultimately responsible for the hell of his youth...

                “Uncaring star gods, indeed...” he murmured. “So, are we puppets of these alien entities? Is our will not our own?” he had to ask.

                “We’re guardians,” I informed him coolly. “Our intended purpose is to guard the planet until the Celestial Seed within it hatches, consumes the world and possibly the Solar System, and arises to join its brethren.”

                Everybody jerked. Magneto stared at me. “You are not jesting...”

                “Nope. The sum purpose of mankind from their design is to evolve into fine defenders of a big egg. That is the only reason the Powered gene exists.”

                “And you have confirmed this?” His blue eyes bored into mine.

                “Yes.” I held up my hand, and a hologram flickered into existence over it. The Earth was chopped apart, and there it was, down near the core, floating in the lava at the heart of the world. “Located it by its neutrino shadow. It’s about the mass of Manhattan island, completely impervious to energy.”

                Everybody stared at it. “And how many people know about this?” Magneto asked faintly.

                “The pantheons. You three, me,” I ticked off. “The Eternals. Possibly the highest levels of the Deviants. Assorted supernatural entities.”

                “Are we in any danger of it hatching?” Bobby had to ask.

                “Not for millennia more. The birth of a Celestial is a rare cosmic event, because there’s something that goes around eating the eggs.”

                It took them a moment, and their faces were all strange. “Galactus?” Warren finally guessed.

                “Yeah. The lives of most worlds are tied to the egg they might have, as it draws power from the ecosystem. Galactus goes around eating the celestial eggs, and the worlds die as a side effect as he sucks it all up. Mostly because he doesn’t take the egg away to digest it in peace, he just eats it on the spot. The ecosystem and the inhabitants are generally going to die either way, and a fast death is generally better than a slow and terrible one.”

                “Galactus... is being merciful when he eats planets?” Magneto asked, astounded.

                “I’m banking on it,” I admitted.

                That got their attention. “You say that with purpose,” Magneto noticed.

                “Well, I’d like to build a machine that can sever the egg from the biofield of the planet, then simply be swapped out and removed with an equivalent amount of mass replacing it. However, it would take a lot of juice to use, and ability to manipulate space. The only way I could do it right is with a lot of practice.”

                “Or helping Galactus to do the same?” Magneto guessed, and I nodded at him. “You seem to think he will return...”

                “The Silver Surfer, his Herald, is trapped on this planet. Of course he’ll be back. We, an underdeveloped non-spacefaring race way under the tech curve, chased him off. The Celestials are probably beaming with pride at the success of their experiment. There’s an egg here, he’s going to eat it; it’s just a matter of time and appetite.”

                “Okay, gotta ask... how do you have the power to do something like that?” Bobby had to speak up. “We know about your Null and ability to shut people down, we’ve all seen it enough... but you’ve never shown anything like that level of power. That would be like... the Phoenix Force, or something.” His voice got a little hushed.

                “There’s about six or so different ways to go about it. I have two of them.” All three men looked at me. “Ah, the basic one is from that AIM base we knocked over about six months ago. Remember that cube the Red Skull was waving around and doing stupid shit with?”

                “Oh, yeah! They were calling it the Cosmic Cube, or something grandiose.” He rolled his eyes at the name. “Didn’t really do anything. He barely got away as I remember, and dropped the Cube.”

                “That Cube has the power to alter reality, albeit in a limited area. I could, for example, go back and change the primary timeline of the planet by killing Hitler. Not even creating a branching timestream, it’s powerful enough to change the primary line. If you know something about quantum physics, that should tell you how powerful it is.”

                Only Magneto looked serious, the other two looked impressed. “That sounds like a very impressive toy.”

                I smiled slightly. “The reason it didn’t do much is because I was around. The Red Skull was attempting to alter the world, and with me around the world just doesn’t get altered. He could barely spit energies out of it, let alone turn the world into a Nazi Empire with him as the immortal Reichsfuhrer.”

                “That little cube could do that?” Bobby and Warren both gasped.

                “Yes. Of course, lose the Cube, it all reverts back to the way it is supposed to be, and the rest of the universe isn’t changed at all, of course. But it truly has what is called the ‘power cosmic’, transcending psionics, magic, and science. However, such power operates on very high levels, requiring inhuman levels of control and discipline, as it sensitive to EVERYTHING. All the little wishes, dreams, and desires it will pick up on, and start making things you want to happen, happen, even if you aren’t purposely trying to make them so.

                “And the Skull didn’t get away, I blew him into dust and vapor. Arnim Zola cloned him a new body. I haven’t managed to find all that freak’s bases yet, so the Skull, Strucker, and all them damn Nazis are going to be around until he dies.”

                “Cloning them new bodies?” Magneto’s voice had several shades of ice to it. “Has this Zola done that with Hitler?”

                “Yes, with upgrades, and increasing reluctance, given how nuts the idiot is. The Hatemonger is the public identity of the Fuhrer.”

                Magneto’s face underwent several rippling color changes. “I see. I have been impressed by your senses. How have you not been able to find this Zola?”

                “One, he’s a typical human paranoid supergenius, so he takes precautions. Two, he’s died multiple times, and just downloads himself into a new body every time, he’s not even remotely human anymore. Three, he has multiple bases set up, and is making more constantly, so he has places to run. Over the last two years, I’ve only found four of his bases, and that’s because Hydra and AIM knew about them, and the data fell into my hands. I figure he has at least two dozen, all over the world.

                “The only way to find him would be to have someone with global awareness of the electromagnetic spectrum able to detect the particular fluctuations that represent his mind being transmitted to a new body, and following those to locations with his lab experiments standing guard... some of whom are sentient, and little more than slaves.”

                Erik Lensherr studied me, an odd light shining in his eyes. “You’ve been waiting to talk to me for a long time, haven’t you?” he asked softly. Bobby and Warren looked startled.

                I tapped Files Two and Three. “These are ongoing.” All three men looked startled. “What, you think I shut them down? I got these from raiding one of Sinister’s labs I stumbled across. He visits them to keep them on track occasionally. I didn’t have the ability to rescue the people and get them out of there easily, and using the Cube would leave definite traces they could capitalize on with any hack of a sorcerer or mentalist.”

                “But the mutant master of magnetism doing so...” he mused in self-irony.

                “And spreading their files to their world, so the media can call them the murdering bastards they are...”

                He nodded slowly. “That... is certainly something within my power. What is in it for me?”

                “Your reputation. You need to move past thuggery and stupid speeches to being what you intend to be... the protector of the Powered, and those people who would exploit them mercilessly grasping after the secrets of the Powered. Just because you are ready and willing to kill is not a reason to fear you, Erik Lensherr... IF you are doing that to protect innocents from those who are truly vile and should be taken out back and shot in the head.

                “So, I want to broaden who you protect. I want to point you at the scum of the world, and I want people to know you are doing it, and what and why.”

                I sat back as he watched me, and Bobby and Warren looked scandalized. “As for Zola... I want you to find him, yes, and all his bases. But I don’t want you to lift a single finger otherwise. They don’t need to know you are looking for them, that you remember what was done to you and your people. There are things that should be done in the light, and things that should be done in the shadows, and then ripped open and exposed to the light. Let those who can do the fight openly do the fight openly, while you snicker.

                “On the other hand, if you happen to track down the Hatemonger and he dies repeatedly in a few car accidents like a hapless idiot while we close in on Zola, I’m totally cool with that, too.

                “Remember that making the true enemy look like they fucked up, even if you don’t expose them instantly, is a massive media win. The objective is to get everyone thinking that doing that stuff to ANYBODY, not just mutants, is unacceptable, and that the people that do it to mutants would be perfectly happy to do it to them.” I kept his stare. “There are no mutants. Humanity all has the potential to be Powered. There are only those who get power for free, for cheap, and for too goddamn much sweat and labor... and so want to steal it from others.

                “I want Magneto to be the Guardian of the Powered, and the foe of those who will do that shit to the innocent in their hopes of becoming Powered. The victims are exactly the same, and they need the same person standing between them and the vile shit.

                “The instant you stop caring about one side, you alienate the world against the other. Don’t make divisions that aren’t there. Don’t be a Nazi and say you are better than others because of your birth. All of humanity holds the same damn gene that gives you your power. There is no mutants vs. humans, there is only good men vs bad men, and the justifications each takes for their actions. No more, no less.

                “Be a good man, Erik Lensherr, because you definitely haven’t been showing it in the past, and there are a whole lot of people glad to have a poster boy for the mutants-are-evil hate talk.”

                “I do not say this lightly, but you have expanded my horizons somewhat,” he admitted slowly. “You have given me many things to think upon.”

                “Good, let’s keep that intellect of your stoked.” I smiled over his shoulder, and he looked back as Natasha walked up on the veranda, and her eyes met his. He flushed despite himself. “Meet our resident expert in geopolitics, ruthlessly manipulative government assholes, and the dark underbelly of civilization. I’ll send more munchies over while you two have a chat. I’m sure a German who got screwed over by the Nazis and a Russian who got screwed over by the Communists are going to have considerable common ground.”

                “Indeed?...” he trailed off, as I gave him a knowing smile, and he looked slightly uncomfortable as I yielded my seat to her, yoinked Bobby and Warren out of there with a thumb, and strolled on out.

                “Is she going to be safe with him?” Bobby had to ask softly, as we walked away.

                “You’re asking if the most dangerous spy on the planet is going to be safe with a man ashamed he was trying to peep on her in the shower.” The two of them blinked as I laughed softly. “He is a gift handed to her on a silver platter... and they are very close to the same age.”

                They digested that as I headed for the kitchen and some munchies. There would be more talk going on, as two experts in the shit humanity shoveled upon one another had some words about it, and what could be done in the future.

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