I hopped up into a tree, looking out over the landscape. “This guy’s range is pretty damn impressive,” I mumbled into the Omnitrix.
“More like crazy,” Kitty complained in my ear. I could see her at the bottom of the tree, looking up at me. “This guy really hunts across 20 acres? Is that normal?”
“Not usually,” Logan said back. I couldn’t see him, which probably meant he was doing all right. “Most hunters range around only 10 acres in the modern day.”
“Modern?” I asked, noting that choice of language.
“I’m starting to have doubts about this guy. I found arrows. Flint and wood.”
Someone landed behind me. I jumped and turned quickly, only to sigh a bit at the sight of Logan. We both dropped down from the tree, landing next to Kitty. “He smells like animal skins along with everything else. But all the modern smells; Smog, plastic and such. They’re new on him.”
“New?” My mind raced through the list of characters I knew in Marvel who might fit the bill. “Maybe this is a caveman.”
“You’re joking, right?” Kitty asked skeptically.
“Only a bit. Literally anything is possible, but that just means we take in evidence without bias, not that we assume things offhand,” I rubbed the back of my neck, sighing. “Still… who is this guy? And who are the people after him?”
Logan spoke softly. “No idea. But they’re avoiding us.”
Kitty looked around. “They are?”
“Yeah. Like the damn plague. Surrounding us, but not moving in.”
“Figures,” I’d noticed. I didn’t have Logan’s instincts, but I’d been at this for long enough to feel when people were watching me. “Let’s keep moving. Sooner we find this guy, the sooner we get answers.
I saw something fly overhead. A drone, flying high. I choose to ignore it for now. Better to wait for my moment.
The three of us moved differently. Logan practically flowed through the woods, like he was a part of it, each step landing perfectly without sound. I was less used to woods. My beat tended to have a lot more concrete and street lights, but I felt pretty good about how quiet I was.
Kitty was less relaxed. She kept stepping on branches, getting leaves in her face, doing the Valley Girl equivalent of Joe Pesci cursing his head off.
Finally, I had enough of that. I reached for the Omnitrix and tapped it. In a flash of light, my body shifted. I became taller and thinner, insect wings floated off my back then wrapped around me like a cloak.
“Big Chill.”
“Here, take my hand,” I said to Kitty.
“Ewww!” Kitty recoiled, staring at me. “Your eyes are like, totally grody!”
I’d have rolled those same eyes if I could have. “You are being too loud and clumsy. And you don’t have to be. Take my hand, Shadowcat.”
Kitty still looked grossed out. Still, she took a hold of my clawed hand. “Wha-”
I shifted to become intangible. And so did Kitty.
“Whoa!” she shivered. “That feels like, so weird!”
“You’re telling me.”
She didn’t feel like Ghost did. When Ghost and I had to interact intangibly, she felt like she was disconnecting from the world around her. Like touching a soap bubble made of power. It was there, but it could disappear at any moment.
Big Chill felt more like a cold breeze. Cold, of course, invisible, but still there. You couldn’t see the air as it blew around you, but you could feel it. It was a part of the world, rather than pulling away from it.
Kitty felt like she was fuzzy. I don’t know how else to explain it. She was still there, but it was like the universe couldn’t quite get a hold on her. Fuzzy and hard to touch.
I lifted off, floating upwards with Kitty in tow. Kitty gasped at the sensation, but otherwise closed her mouth.
“Come on,” I pulled her along, following in Logan’s wake. Without thinking, I started repeating a lesson Nat had once taught me. “It’s fine to learn stealth, but you have natural advantages you can take advantage of. If things can’t touch you, then you also avoid making noise. Noise requires interaction after all.”
We went through a tree together. “How long can you stay like this?”
“Uh, I don’t know? Like, a few hours? I get tired after a while,” Kitty said, floating over the snow.
“A few hours. That’s perfect,” I mused. “Anyways, next time you need to keep under the radar, don’t be afraid to turn intangible. The stuff you’ll run into has no problems cheating, so neither should you.”
“Run into? Like what?” Kitty asked curiously.
That’s when an arrow slammed into Logan’s throat.
“Guh!” Logan fell to a knee, coughing. I pulled Kitty over to him as she screamed in horror, watching as he grabbed the arrow and ripped it out, a spray of blood following the movement.
Another arrow flew at me, but I turned intangible in time, the arrow getting covered in frost as it passed through my head.
“Grrrrr!” Logan snapped, his throat healing in seconds. “Cheap shot!”
He leaped up and entered the brush. A sound filled the air. Metal on metal.
“Who shoots arrows at people!?” Kitty shouted.
“I know a guy,” I tapped the Omnitrix and shifted to Wildmutt form. I could smell Logan and one other person, the person we’d been tracking. I leaped for them, reaching the pair.
Through Wildmutt’s superpowered senses, I could tell the man was tall. A giant of a man really, around Thor’s height. He was wearing a deer hide as a cloak with wolf fur trimming his arms and legs, but was otherwise nearly naked, his body running hotter than most people. He had a sword in each hand, one of which had been sliced in half by Logan’s adamantium claws.
Apparently he’d learned his lesson though, because he parried the claws instead of meeting them head on now, dodging when he could, and sliced into Logan several times.
I kept quiet as I lunged at him, trying to catch him off guard.
I don’t know how he sensed me. But as I was about to hit him, he spun around and stabbed me in the chest, kicking me back moments later.
“RARRGH!”
Gaaaah, that hurt. Getting stabbed in the chest hurts no matter how many times it happens or whatever form you’re in. You don’t get used to that shit.
Logan rushed in. His right claws whistled through the air, barely missing. The large man retaliated with a stab, which Logan took in the shoulder, trading it for a chance to kick his leg. The man rolled as his leg left the ground, swords slicing out to parry Logan’s follow up.
Then the two stood in front of each other and began moving at top speed. In Wildmutt form, I couldn’t see it, but the sounds of the clash was clear as day to me. Metal ringing over and over, painting the world in vibrating air, bits of heat as swords and claws clashed, the breathing of the two men going fast and hard, sending clouds of warmth into the warm Canadian air. The smell of sweat and blood mingling with the muddy snow flying up around their feet.
Both of them moved faster than anyone not on super-soldier serum should have been able to, bouncing back and forth. Cuts flashed across Logan’s body, healing near instantly. The man got similar wounds, but ignored them, focusing on the battle.
The man slashed downward at Logan. Logan blocked it with his forearm. The blade sliced through his flesh and stopped with a metallic clang that surprised the barbarian.
Logan smirked. “Metal bones don’t break.”
“Get away from him!” Kitty threw a rock. The giant man slashed it out of the air without looking and continued his duel with Logan. She then surprised me by rushing in and throwing the most clumsy punch I’d ever seen.
It landed on his cheek. He didn’t flinch. He did, however, lose the hood that had been covering his face when her hand caught on it and pulled.
I was getting up, covering the hole in my chest, but I almost froze at the sight of Arnold Schwarzenegger. In a headband, with tanner skin, and much more youthful than the former California governor. But close enough that all three of us stared in surprise.
He took his chance to let loose a casual backhand towards Kitty. I knew what he expected. To send her flying, then continue his fight with Logan.
He stumbled when his giant fist flew through her with no resistance. Kitty screamed and punched him again, surprising him further.
Logan and I moved at the same time. I tapped the Omnitrix while Logan rushed him.
I still got there first.
“Fasttrack!” at super-speed, I punched Conan (Because who else could this barbarian with swords and an action star’s face be?) in ribs, shifting to let Logan slash at him as I ripped a sword from his right hand.
Conan roared in rage, as loud as any animal, and parried Logan again.
I took the sword in hand and swung with superhuman speed, slicing off his cloak. Conan’s eyes widened. Then they closed.
When I swung again, he parried it. Despite my superspeed.
Holy shit.
“Logan, back up!” I shouted.
“Are you kidding, brat!?” Logan snarled.
“This guy doesn’t have guns!” I answered.
He understood instantly. If we were surrounded by enemies, then Logan would be the one who could detect them first. Reluctantly, Logan backed off.
I twirled my stolen sword and rushed Conan. He rushed back. And just like that, I was in another sword fight.
Conan was good. Scratch that. He was the best I’d ever dueled. Natasha, Melinda May, Clint, they would have been in for the fight of their lives.
The closest I’d ever fought that compared to him was Thor. Thor. The 1500 year old warrior, who had fought everything possible to fight. Conan was almost as good as him.
In Fasttrack form, with my blue fur getting bits of snow in it, I could match and surpass him, but I felt admiration fill me at the sight of his swordsmanship. He adjusted to my speed by slowing down, not trying to overwhelm me like he had Logan, but instead flowing with me, eyes taking in my whole body. Sparks flew with every blow, the swords in our hands shaking on every contact.
I felt bad for what I did next, but I didn’t have time to waste on admiring his swordsmanship.
Conan raised his blade to slash at my neck, and I stopped holding back.
Fasttrack was not as fast as XLR8, but he was still insanely quick. If I gave Conan enough time, he might be able to counter him, clever and skilled opponents could do it. Couldn’t give him that time though.
I ducked under his slash then bashed his sword with mine with all the strength and speed I had, knocking the blade from his hand. Then I swung my own sword so the blade was placed against Conan’s neck, tickling his adam’s apple with the point. A small amount of blood came from the point.
Conan stared at me. Then he spoke. And I couldn’t understand it.
I stared at him, uncomprehending. Since I’d gotten to the Marvel Earth, the only time I’d had trouble with language had been when the Omnitrix had shut down. Conan said something else, trying a different language.
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“What’d he say?” Kitty asked, confused.
“I have no clue.”
“...haf na clo.” Conan mumbled, repeating the words thoughtfully.
I backed away from him and tossed his sword back to him. Conan’s eyes widened, catching the blade with ease. Then I tapped the Omnitrix. In a flash, I was back in human form again. He didn’t seem that put off by my transformation, only raising an intrigued eyebrow.
“What are you doing?” Logan asked me, snarling. Conan clenched and unclenched the blade.
“Conan.” I said.
The man in question now looked truly surprised. I pointed at myself. “Dial. Logan. Kitty.”
He watched me point at each of them. Then he said something else. Gibberish. The Omnitrix fluttered with colors on my wrist. Conan added something.
“-manner of demon?”
“Not demons,” I said. I raised my Omnitrix up. “You have swords. But in this world, weapons have evolved a good amount.”
“You speak good now?” Conan’s voice was deep as hell. He twirled his sword, not sheathing it just yet. His speech was also not what I expected. He sounded like the Heavy from Team Fortress. Slow, deep, using simple words. Like the Omnitrix was having trouble translating him.
Conan wasn’t dumb. For his time period, he was a fucking Renaissance man. I had to remind myself of that as his speech was butchered to pieces.
“Weapons. Hmf! Weapons like coward. Sneak knife, metal bone, ghostly wench and beast men. You are sorcerer?”
“I know your legends, Conan. Are any of those things you haven’t encountered before?” I asked.
“...No metal bones. You say not demons. Then what?”
“Superheroes. Which kind of makes us weirder than demons,” I tried to joke. He didn’t seem to get it, only scowling. “Look, we aren’t with those guys who were tracking you.”
“The worthless ones?” Conan cocked his eyebrow. He had inky-black hair I noticed, something that further separated him from Ahnold. “Hmmm.”
That was a growl. A deep and rumbling one. Okay, so he was pissed.
“What want then?” He pointed at me harshly.
“Honestly, to get you out of trouble. You aren’t supposed to be here.”
That was an understatement. The Hyborian Age was what, 10,000 years ago? Further? Had he been left here because of the Rio Timequake?
“Who is this guy?” Kitty asked.
“A man from an age way before ours,” I walked over to the sword on the ground and picked it up, noting where Logan had sliced through it. When I handed it to Conan, he put it away without looking.
“...Hmf,” he turned and began to walk away.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Away. Leave me.” Conan growled, continuing on.
“So you can keep getting hunted by assholes?”
He seemed surprised by the last word, stopping to chuckle. “Funny, beast-man. I Conan. Need no one.”
Logan frowned. He sniffed the air. “Whatever the hell you two are talking about. Stow it. We got company.”
I felt a run of frustration fill me. God fucking damnit, I had to get him out. I had no time to waste on this. Whoever was tracking him, they’d cause trouble-
Magic. It was in the air. Sudden and rushing. I was no wizard, but time with Fantasma had gotten me used to the sting of it in the air. Magic had different flavors from person to person. My favorite witch girl had a different feel from Wanda’s more chaotic or Agatha’s ancient and controlled versions of magic, for example.
This magic felt like a baby being strangled. It was horrific. Poisonous. And it covered us all.
Conan snarled, looking around. “Sorcery!”
Logan was looking around as well, though more confused than anything. Kitty shivered, grabbing at her arms. “Like, what is that?”
“Magic,” I reached for the omnitrix, looking around with wide eyes. “Logan-”
It came from beneath me. A claw of pure ice separating the snow as it reached for my crotch with lacerating spikes. I leaped back, screaming a bit higher pitched than normal when the claws caught briefly on the armor protecting me. I slammed down on the Omnitrix.
“NRG!”
In my armored form, I grabbed the claw and ripped it upwards.
The creature was around four feet in height. It was made entirely of spiky ice except for its green eyes, the two wings on its back giving it the appearance of an imp.
“Mephit!” Conan snarled.
The creature screeched, breathing pure ice onto my helmet.
So I breathed nuclear radiation into its face.The creature didn’t have enough time to respond before its grinning demon head melted.
Then the earth snapped up beneath me, another creature, this one made of dirt and stone, punching me, followed by gunshots.
“They’re here!” Logan extended his claws and went to rush forward. Only to trip as the ground beneath him began to soften, pulling him under. “Crap!”
“AH!” Kitty screamed when another earth imp looking thing rose up and swung at her, getting nothing. She grabbed Logan and pulled him out of the mudlike-earth, letting go of him once he was out.
“Thanks, pipsqueak!” Logan dug his claws into the imp and ripped it in half, taking several shots in the back with spurts of blood. He rushed for where the bullets had been shooting at him from, leaping into the woods.
I grabbed my own earth imp by the shoulders and pulled, ripping its arms off before twirling them to beat the creature to rubble with its own limbs.
Then ice covered me instantly, keeping me in place. I couldn’t see it, since I was frozen, but behind me Kitty yelled out again, rushing towards Conan.
The quintessential barbarian had circled around me, using me as cover from the bullets bouncing off my new icy prison, only for a water imp to flow out of the snow and soak him in a blast of fluid. He sliced through the attack, removing the lethal aspect of the attack but covering him with water. In the middle of the snow.
I raised my temperature, exploding from the ice around me as Kitty passed me and blasted the water imp, evaporating it in clouds of steam. I tried to keep my radiation contained while my heat was high, a trick I’d practiced with Bruce, and Conan sighed in relief at the rush of heat that filled the area.
“What are these things!?” Kitty shouted, letting an ice one's claws go through her before pushing it back, Conan smashing it apart with his sword.
“Conan, give me info, comrade!” I shouted in NRG’s Russian accented tones.
“Mephit! Spirit of nature they are!”
That fit. We were surrounded by them. Ice, earth, air, water, imps of various types. Or mephits, I guess. A rock smashed into me, hard enough to send me stumbling back. Then ice surrounded me as a ball of wind hit Conan in the back.
A hail of bullets from the treeline was concerning as well, Logan’s rage filled voice coming from that direction. The bullets went through Kitty, nearly took Conan’s head off, and smashed apart an earth imp.
This was too much. We had to deal with the problems separately.
“Kitty, get Conan to Logan!” I shouted. “Conan, shut down the honorless ones!”
Conan took in the sight around us, then growled and nodded. Thank god he wasn’t dumb. Logan and he could easily deal with the gunmen. But the mephits, whatever they were, required a more powerful touch.
Kitty grabbed Conan and pulled him, only for the giant of a man to spin her around and take her into his arms.
“Eep! Like, what are you doing, you creep-AHHHH!”
Conan took off, running faster than anyone I’d ever seen who wasn’t on super-soldier juice, rushing past the monsters without care.
He adjusted fast, that was for sure.
“Now,” I raised my fists, the armor around them beginning to glow with red hot power. The mephits around me screeched and charged. “Let us party, comrades!”
The demonic forces of nature rushed me. I ran forth and unleashed all the power within me on contact with an earth mephit, exploding in radiative power. My fist split the air before exploding inside a water golem.
Then I was dogpiled. I punched, grappled, blew fire, as the dozens of mephits clawed, blew various types of breath at me, and screeched.
“Yes, cry some more!”
----------------------------------------
Kulan Gath
“Cry some more,” Kulan shook his head, chuckling. “A man after my own heart.”
On a television screen in the small room he’d been given, footage of Dial fighting the mephits was playing live. Kulan hummed to himself.
He raised a hand to his beard, only to stop himself. “Oh, that would have been embarrassing.
His hand was still covered in blood. Getting that in his beard was a sticky endeavor to clean.
Kulan looked over at the calf he had been cutting into. Still a babe in truth, the living creature was bleating weakly with its entrails spread out across the floor. Its pain, youth, and blood were all feeding into the entrails arranged into ancient patterns across the concrete, bringing forth the neutral spirits of the elements and binding them to Kulan’s will.
Kulan idly kicked the calf, trying to feed just a bit more pain into the spell, but otherwise smiled.
This was good. His powers were, if anything, more potent than ever. Perhaps because his particular brand of magic had less users in this world. The ‘pool’ he drank from had less competition.
And summoning the mephits would prove to be immensely useful. The elemental spirits were neutral, but easily binded to a sorcerer who knew what they were doing. Enough of them could cause damage, distract, and use subterfuge.
They had weaknesses. They could only be formed from their environments. Thus why Dial was only fighting spirits of ice, earth, air, and water. In the right settings, lighting, fire, and much more could be added.
Still, as a beginning test, Kulan was satisfied…
Except. Conan.
On the screen, Kulan watched as Conan approached a soldier, the barbarian savage slicing into the armored man’s throat. Conan. Always Conan.
Kulan believed in Crom. How else could a barbarian somehow overcome odds over and over again, if not with the aid of a god’s strength? Conan was no superhuman. He was skilled, strong, but he had no true power. And yet, he survived. He won. Over and over again.
Pain in his palms drew his attention. When Kulan looked, he had driven his pointed nails into his own hands. Kulan relished in the pain for a moment, allowing it to bring him back to reality.
Conan would be dealt with. Dial, the Avengers… and eventually, even AIM. All would become his.
Until even his benefactor would become his thrall.
Kulan raised his palm, covered in the blood of the calf and his own, and licked at it idly, smiling at the screen.