What is Marvel's version of Kingdom Come?

Was just reading someone elses thread and it gave me this idea; what is the Marvel Universe equivalent of Kingdom Come? My initial response would be Marvels, but this might be mainly due to the fact that it's painted by Alex Ross. But when i think about it more, i think it might actually be Civil War. They both feature heroes gone out of control and even though i don't think they're quite on the same level of excellence, thematically they seem quite similar.

What do you think? What's the Marvel equivalent of Kingdom Come?



What arcane

and twisted mind

could dream of such structure?

Could will such a forged blade

into such bloodied existence?

Where were the hands that saw such arcane beauty

made so tawdry

by madness

and deceit?


And betrayal?

And where stands the knight

clad in the finest of silver

who would stand against the tide

of such madness?

Where would such a man

find the strength to face down

such twisted malevolence

as that which hides in the face of the charlatan,

the jester,

the henchman

and the eternal?

What foul airs would such a man,

such a myth

have to be steeped in?

What stone would he be carved from,

what eldritch gloom

would be granted skin to wrestle such demons?

To fall into darkness

whilst ever dragging the souls of those it fights for

forever back into the light?

What place could build such a being?

What walls could let one climb so high?

And where would its people stand,

but forever bracing against his left hand,

whilst forever held secure in his right.

A dark knight

for a dark people,


for a city,

deserving of both.



A wise man once wrote

that courtesy is a silver lining

around the dark clouds of civilization.

And here,

the city makes it’s tracks from the stuff,

lines its streets and fortifies

its soul with it.

Tempered and graceful,

it dips its azure crown

into the inky blackness of night

and rewards us with its newfound knowledge by day.

Yet what best it give us,

beside motherly platitudes

and fatherly love,

is best personified

in the sky streaking heir

of greater promise.




A messenger of the Gods,


made flesh

Stretching a lining all his own

of blue and arch red

across the tapestry of the skies,

beneath which the little people

no longer feel so

and the smallest of them

know what it is to touch the Gods.

For the Gods have taken it upon their already troubled brows

to touch those

who have,

in essence

breathed them into existence.