The Infinity Brigade
Chapter 1
SOMEWHERE BEYOND THE REACHES OF SPACE AND TIME, AS IT IS KNOWN TO MOST BEINGS…
He stirred. Groggily, he stirred. He felt like he had just gone toe to toe with the immensely powerful force field that always seemed to surround the most powerful of Daemonite ships whenever his people clashed with them. The funny thing was though, that he couldn't remember having his daylights punched. In fact…now that he thought about it, he didn't even remember there being a fight, or anything that would have had the chance of knocking him out, and not just because he was nigh invulnerable.
No.
The last thing he remembered was skimming along the skyline of a world tens of thousands of light-years from Khera in mid-day…the sun against his back and the primitive mud-brick shanty town of the planet's humanoid populace, it's largest and most gleaming of cities at this point in its history, right below him. They went about there daily hunter-gatherer, farming, and animal husbandry routines like ants from the height he was at. It was one of the few moments of genuine peace his position as a Kherum warlord could afford him in this eternal war with the Daemonites…right before his world, indeed, his entirely universe suddenly became black and he remembered beginning to wake up here. Wherever here was.
Opening his eyes rapidly, he shot up into the sky of wherever he was, attempting to take whoever was responsible for his current predicament, assuming there was one, off guard and quickly analyze the situation from a higher vantage point. Soon after though, he deduced that such an action was a tad bit unnecessary. For in that small window of time, he had discovered, among other things, that there were none around him that would wish him harm. No one at all, for that matter.
He further learned that, wherever here was, up and down probably lacked an intrinsic value, considering that here had a seventy-six point eight-nine-two chance of being another dimension lacking any real frame of reference for there to be a true sense of where up and down was. Another dimension where various gases emitted different shades of light and swirled about against a void that his telescopic vision told him went on for untold distances large enough to fit galaxies twelve times the size of the milky way in every direction without an end in sight.
It looked like some odd painting he once saw a refuge from one of the many worlds his people had liberated made from a type of natural woven tufted fabric in which the cut threads were evenly distributed, with a short dense pile, giving it a distinctive, smooth feel. A Black Velvet painting, if memory served him right, which he knew it did. A Black Velvet painting that one of their alien lot had made, by the looks of it, by taking a bunch of fluorescent neon colors and smearing them at random intervals.
"Considering what went into the creation of this pocket dimension, that train of thought isn't that far off, Majestros of Universe-WS." Another man's, another entity's, voice echoed inside his head, his gut reaction telling him to look around for the source even though he knew he probably wouldn't be able to, and withdraw his Kusar blade in a fighting stance. "After all-"
From his front, he saw a doorway into warp space, literally shaped like a doorway, open up, spilling forth cerulean-blue light as well as a tan-skinned man who remarkably resembled a Kherebim like himself.
"—I am the one who created it." The man finished in the same voice that was previously telepathically speaking to Majestros.
The man then snapped his fingers. For a while, Majestros kept his blade up, but dropped his guard and merely looked at the man with his arms crossed over his chest, saying, "Well?"
"Wait for it." Came the man's simple response, pointing to his own ear.
With his super-hearing, Majestros picked up what sounded like an object…no… two…coming from completely opposite directions…that were about to impact with sufficient force to destroy an early post-atomic age city…right above him!
Looking up, he saw both objects collide inside one of the swirling, multihued nebulae, and felt his cape flutter violently behind him as the ensuing shockwave enveloped him and the strange man in some of the stellar gas comprising it.
After a few seconds though, the cloud had dissipated enough that he could clearly see, without the use of his fantastic sight, what the two objects were given that their collision was only about ten feet away.
One, was another being that resembled a Kherebim, with sharp angular features wearing what he assumed to be an orange training garb befitting of some sort of warrior, with a symbol in an odd script that he did not recognize on the chest, a blue belt, bands around his wrists, blue boots, and raven black hair like his own, except so spikey and out of the norm that he imagined, with no small bit of humor, the eyes he would be able to poke out were he not careful where he moved.
The other…looked like a Kherebum as well, but Majestros wasn't entirely sure. By that he meant, that while the bald figure was indeed like his kin in appearance, and could easily be mistaken for the genuine article at a distance, if one where to get close enough, they would easily have the same doubts that he had. After all, wouldn't you if you saw that this so called "Kherebim" looked stark nude and was covered in a silvery substance from head to toe? Also, despite the force of the impact, his feet were still firmly planted on what looked to be some kind of surfboard like object of the same color. A means of propulsion through space? A source of power perhaps?
In fact…now that he thought about it…despite the force of the collision being sufficient to reduce the typical non-Kherum to their base atomic components…both of these beings looked surprisingly well intact. In fact, if anything, it only seemed to give them a slight nudge to enter the waking world, if the fact that they were beginning to open their eyes was any indication.
"Huh? Where am I?" Asked the silver man, clutching his head as he shook it.
"Mmmm…bacon…" Said the spiky haired man, licking his lips.
The two finally managed to open there eyes, took in the sight of the other, and, rather than panic as Majestros was expecting, remained silent.
"Is…this some sort of peculiar dream?" Asked the Silver man, looking around.
"If it is, where's the bacon?" Asked the spiky haired man, also looking around.
"I'm afraid that this is no product of your subconscious, Silver Surfer." Said the tan-skinned man, garnering the attention of the two, who looked down and noticed him and the Kherum Warlord looking up.
"AWWW!" Bellowed the spiky haired man. "Does that mean there's no bacon?"
"Both of those things, Son Goku, sort of go hand in hand…in this situation anyways…so…yes."
"Darn it!" Said the Spiky haired man, fists clenching and teeth gritting. "Chi Chi was just giving me the best breakfast ever!"
Lowering his head back down to the tan-skinned man and raising an eyebrow at him, Majestros asked, "Would you care to inform me just what this situation is…whoever you are? Furthermore, why have you brought me and these two within this pocket dimension of yours?"
"I too, would covet an explanation." Said the Silver Surfer.
"What's a pocket dimension?" Asked Goku, scratching his head beneath his enormous hair-do.
Not missing a single beat, the tan-skinned man said, "My name is Alex Mercer. Who I am, what I am, is of no importance to you three…yet. What is though, is what I'm about to tell you, so pay attention, because the fate of several thousand worlds are soon going to become placed firmly within your hands. Nod if you understand."
After a moment's glance at the other two, Majestros, the Silver Surfer, and Goku looked at Mercer and did so. "Very well then…Mercer. We're listening." Spoke the Kherum Warlord.
"Good. Now: in another Universe, an extremely powerful extra-dimensional entity tried to invade an earth parallel to the three earths that lie inside each of your own Universes, whether you've discovered them or not." Alex said, eyes lingering on Majestros in particular as he paused. "An extra-dimensional entity known, in human tongues anyways, as Cthulu."
From the scattered remains of the nebulae, a trail of vapor came together, coalescing into an image of some great, horrible looking creature that looked like a freak of nature: a giant cephalopod that was flying through the air of a what looked like a mid to late industrial age civilization crawling with more Kherum lookalikes, demolishing all in its wake with dark and terrible powers.
"It looks like a giant, flying spaghetti monster." Said Goku, no doubt returning to whatever food related fantasy he was having before he had awoken. "Mmmm…spaghetti…"
"Indeed." Came Mercer's one word reply, before the image changed to that of what Majestros assumed to be this earth, slowly being covered by Cthulu's tentacles. "On this other earth, Cthulu managed to take over the world and bring it into his own extra-dimensional realm, the Nightmare City of R'lyeh, where…well…let's just say that the populace of that earth were doomed to eternal torment and damnation."
These last few words caused looks of horror and disgust to sprout on the faces of Majestros, the Surfer, and Goku. So did the images the vapors formed next. Before any of them could speak though, the man continued.
"Don't worry. That overblown giant squid got his come-up-ins in the end." Said Mercer, brushing aside any concerns they might throw at him with a wave of his hand. "Cthulu got cocky and thought he had what it took to begin invading other earths besides his to add to his ever expanding domain. The problem with that plan though…was that he tried to take over the earth protected by this guy—"
The image then changed to that of man, if it could be called that. He was tall, with red, rock like skin, white hair spiked up to great lengths than this Son Goku's, if such a thing could be believed, several arms with half of their length being covered in some sort of metal, and intense, brilliant white eyes, standing atop some sort of space station floating in orbit over what Majestros assumed to be this man's own earth.
"—Asura."
Pausing for what the three warriors could have sworn was dramatic effect, Mercer pressed forward.
"Long story short with this guy: he's a space demi-god from a pantheon that governed this earth: one of the eight Guardian Generals who led their legions into battle against a race of foul, impure beasts called the Gohma. However, he was betrayed by his kind, framed for the murder of their emperor, had his wife killed, had his daughter tormented to keep some machine running as some sort of living battery, and went on a rip roaring rampage of revenge against those most responsible, dying a couple of times on the way, but nevertheless, triumphing in the end."
The image then changed to Asura, being pushed down into a planet by the finger of a large, rotund entity almost as large as the world itself, struggling to push back.
"Also, when angered, his power soars exponentially. He's much like your Incredible Hulk, surfer: only already starting from a godlike state and with a much higher capacity for rage."
The three of them then saw Asura in the image manage to, in a maddened flurry of frenzied fists, destroy the planet sized being, much to their visible surprise.
"Like I said: exponentially." Stated Mercer, before the image returned to that of Asura standing atop his orbital mountain, only with him looking up as an obsidian rift in the fabric of space and time opened up, spilling forth Cthulu and thousands of beasts almost as foul as he was. "Anyways, Cthulu, genius that he was, tried to take him and his earth down."
The image then changed to Cthulu, heavily injured and leaking his foul life essence into the vacuum of space, which was filled with the lifeless remains of his army. They had all apparently died in various, gruesome fashions that reminded Majestros of battles he himself had partaken in, while their leader retreated back into the rift from whence he had come.
"It didn't end well for him. Even worse, as it turns out."
The three then saw Cthulu completely enter the rift, an angry Asura not far behind, but unable to prevent him from escaping.
"Though the demi-god was unable to stop him from retreating back into his realm, he was able to use his own energies to reopen the rift and continue giving chase to Cthulu."
The image then changed to that of Asura, standing victoriously over the corpse of Cthulu within the depths of his nightmare city.
"There, he managed to put an end to Cthulu, his realm, and save the people of the earth he had taken from their terrible fates."
The image then changed to that of Asura, standing atop the corpse of the dead Cthulu, surrounded by a crowd of human onlookers that were cheering his name and the death of the Elder One.
"Pardon me, but, I fail to see the logic behind you whisking us away here." Said Majestros.
"I concur. Even by your own admission, this 'Asura', managed to defeat Cthulu by himself and end his evil for all eternity. What use, then, do you have of us three?" Asked the Surfer.
"Well…" trailed off Mercer, looking up and towards his right. "Afterwards, Asura sort of, kind of, blew up that earth he had freed in a fiery cacophony of genocidal fury—"
The image then showed Asura leaping high off into the air and impacting the planet with such raw power that it did exactly what Mercer said, and exploded much to the horror of the other three present.
"—and has since been repeating this little temper tantrum of his to other earths all across the Multiverse."
The three remained silent in their shock, which was clearly visible on each of their faces.
"But…why!?" Yelled out the Surfer.
"Yeah! You just said that the guy was a hero! Why would he suddenly decide to turn around and destroy that earth like that!?" Said Goku.
"Why indeed." Said Mercer, cryptically. "But, the reasoning behind this course of action, I'm afraid, is for me to know, and for you to find out for yourselves, or not, as the case may turn out."
"What is the meaning behind those words?" Asked Majestros, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
"Why, the reason I've summoned all three of you here of course: to stop Asura before he manages to achieve his goal as a band of powerful, life-wiping, planet busting fighters: a brigade of sorts, you could say. I don't imagine the three of you, paragons of decency that you are, would need much motivation what with the billions, trillions, and possibly quadrillions of lives at stake and the very likely possibility that he will reach your own individual earths, perhaps even Khera, and…well…reenact the display you just saw him put on and reducing your worlds to nothing but—"
Mercer, using some form of telekinesis, coalesced the nebulaeic vapor into the palm of one of his hands and with a huff, dispersed it until it somehow disappeared into a particle trail that the naked human eye couldn't possibly hope to follow.
"—dust in the wind."
In his other hand, appeared some sort of high tech, red and black rectangular device with a screen on it and an infinity symbol a few centimeters below it.
"To aid you in your quest, much like the Greek Gods of yore often did to their bastard, wayward, demigod offspring, I am giving you a means with which to track Asura's movements across reality as well as to follow him."
Mercer tossed it towards Majestros at a speed roughly equaling that of orbital velocity. Casually plucking it out of the air, the Kherum Warlord gave it a quick inspection, putting a thumb over the infinity symbol of the device and realizing that it was a button of sorts to activate it. It was a moment later, looking back to the strange man facing him that a question formed in his mind that he soon voiced. "Your repository of knowledge seems to be quite vast, Mercer, so tell us: why don't you deal with this 'Asura' yourself if he presents such a gargantuan threat?"
To his surprise, the man merely smiled. "Goodbye Majestros, Norrin Radd, and Kakarot." He said.
Suddenly, the three assembled warriors felt the sudden urge to shield their eyes as a bright yellow light began to seemingly envelop the pocket dimension they were inside of as well as their mysterious host.
"Just do me a favor, and try not to die within the first three times you go up against him, would you? It'd be so tiresome to have to fetch three more of you…"
With that, their words became yellow completely, before coming as black as unconsciousness once more.
A New Word From the Author:
Well folks, today, it finally happened. finally shipped in Majestic: Strange New Visitor and I FINALLY decided that, between than and Captain Atom: Armageddon, that I had enough of a grasp of Mr. Majestic, his character, and his background to replace him with Silver Age Superman for this story and rewrite this chapter from his perspective instead. Honestly, I think this will make things turn out for the better.
Silver-Age Superman, after all, though I love him, was so powerful he could just SNEEZE and solar-systems would fly away and Majestic is just slightly less powerful than Post-Crises supes, which is a much better fit for this story and would leave less people wondering why he just doesn't end it right then and there after being told the danger Asura poses while still also possessing the vast knowledge and capacity for it both Supes are depicted of having. Plus, Majestros, out of all three of the groups, would be less likely to pull his punches and, thusly, lend himself to more immediate action inside of the story as well as more drama between himself and his generally less brutal compatriots.
Plus, I can just imagine the God of War 3 soundtrack whenever Majestros does something awesome as well as Darth Vader's Imperial March a lot easier with him.
An Old Word from the Author
The above is a plot bunny I've had for the last few days or so. It was written within the course of a day, mostly between the hours of 9:47 AM Eastern Standard Time and 11:47 AM Eastern Standard Time. I'm unsure if I will be continuing this, given how wanton, capricious, and down right scatterbrain my drive for writing stories and sticking to them is (as the people who were waiting for me to update Morning Salvation and are STILL waiting for me to Update Sins of a Solar Empire: Domination will undoubtedly).
However, today was one of those few days where I just shut up, focused, felt the magic, and just started typing away at my computer man! The product of that is a first chapter over 2500 words long that, usually, would have taken me over a week to finish on my own and that would be an absolute PAIN to have to sit down and type if I had written it first in a notebook (which I usually do).
I wish I could bottle up the warm fuzzies of such moments to save for writing at later dates. Sure would have helped me in the past, and sure would help me in the future…
Anyways, enough of my rambling. Here's to hoping that someone somewhere out there digs the product of only a few hours of work from me…
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