FAN FICTION: EXILES #10 – SANCTUARY PT1 (DIVIDED PT 3) BY ADRIAN J.WATTS

“He’s gone! And so is Firefly!”

Aleta, panicked, almost flew headlong into Joseph. Finally, after days of being pulled from one timeline to the next, the Exiles had had a chance to relax; and Aleta and Joseph had decided to use the downtime to interrogate their new tag-a-long, Nachtgleiskette, who had claimed to know of a way to resurrect the team’s fallen member, Daywalker.

Only… Nachtgleiskette had disappeared along with, Aleta realised, their youngest member: Firefly.

More than anything else, Aleta worried for their safety. The Exiles were, for all intents and purposes, prisoners in Castle Symkaria – the seat of power for Prime Minister Sakrova and the headquarters of the Wild Pack. They were being treated well, but Sakrova was determined to find out how the Exiles had managed to penetrate a massive energy dome surrounding the eastern European nation and had demanded that the Exiles remain in the castle until their secret was discovered.

If Nachtgleiskette had hurt Firefly, she would hurt him. She knew that. But if, for some reason, they had left the castle together – then she could not help but worry about what might happen if the Wild Pack found out.

“Scamp is gone, too,” Joseph told her. “Only Ph-Eros remains in his quarters.”

“We need to find them, Joseph, before the Wild Pack do. Stand close.”

Joseph stood beside Aleta, so close that their bodies were almost touching. As Aleta closed her eyes and visualised a disc of solid light appearing beneath their feet, he guessed what she had planned and put his arms around her waist. She continued to concentrate and, a moment later, the two Exiles were entirely invisible and floating on the light disc.

They floated past dozens of guards as they searched for an exit from the castle, thankful that the Wild Pack seemed to have retired for the night. They knew from experience that Aleta’s ability to refract light in order to simulate invisibility meant nothing to the Wild Pack*, and they simultaneously sighed in relief as they finally left the castle unmolested.

[ * – see issue eight – All-seeing Adrian ]

“Where should we begin to look?” Joseph whispered.

Aleta shivered. In her entire life, only three men had been as close to her as Joseph was then and each had, in some way, betrayed her. The first was her husband Stakar, who Aleta thought for a long time had allowed their three children to be killed. She learned years later that Stakar had done everything reasonably within his power to save them, but the resentment and sense of betrayal had remained and, Aleta suspected, always would.

The next had been her fiance, Vance Astro. His betrayal was far less intentional – corrupted by a black costume of alien origin, Vance had yelled at Aleta at least twice and, eventually, the suit itself had attacked her before revealing itself as the long-lived ‘Venom’ symbiote**. Aleta did not blame Vance for any of that, but the fact that her becoming so close to her partner was what made her vulnerable made her reluctant to become close to him again.

[ ** – see GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY Y4 ANNUAL, part of the ZODIAC RISING crossover event – Also Adrian ]

It was that longing for closeness that drove Aleta into the arms of Kristoff Vernard***, a young man from the 20th century who had managed, through various means, to effectively become the ruler of Earth in the 31st. Eventually, he betrayed her as well**** – more accurately, he betrayed the Guardians – but in betraying them he also turned them against her, which amounted to the same thing in her eyes.

[ *** – in GOTG #70; **** – in GOTG #72 – Also Adrian Again and Again ]

So what about Joseph? Aleta thought. I still love Vance. We are still engaged… I hope. I don’t know how he has taken my relationship with Kristoff… who I also still love. But Joseph… I may never… NO. I am not doing this. Not again. Not now.

“Aleta?”

Aleta felt the mutant’s breath on her neck and shivered again. “Th-the forest were we first arrived,” she answered, finally. “It seems as good a place as any.”

They rapidly passed over the green canopy of the forest, both keeping their eyes peeled for anything that may suggest the presence of their teammates. After almost an hour of searching, Joseph spotted, in a clearing, the red flash of fire temporarily lighting up the night sky.

“Aleta! Look!” he said.

“I see it!” Aleta began to descend and to gain speed as she did so. The wind whipped past them, and Aleta forgot for a moment that Joseph was not used to her means of flying. She felt him grip her more tightly, and despite her logical protestations, she knew that she did not dislike the sensation… not at all.

“You cannot see them,” Nachtgleiskette calmly told Firefly, “but Aleta and Joseph are approaching, hidden by Aleta’s light powers. They are too far away to see us but have undoubtedly been drawn here by your flaming assault on Namor and Doctor Savage*.

[ * – last issue – Still the same old Adrian ]

“You have a choice to make, Firefly. Will you reveal your attempts to kill your teammate, or allow them to continue to perceive you as the weak child you have presented yourself as thus far?”

“W-what…?” Firefly stammered. He looked to the skies but, as Nachtgleiskette had said, he could not see Aleta and Joseph. He turned to look behind him, and the Doc Savage, who – after Firefly’s exposure to the strange blue sphere given to the team by Spratt during their trip to 8162 A.D. – had reverted to his less-harmful Mysterious Stranger form and was last seen walking along the river which bisected the cleaning, could no longer be seen.

“Where did he go?!” he roared. “I wasn’t done! He killed Daywalker! He… he…”

Firefly found himself suddenly short of breath. And his muscles ached. And his head hurt. And his heart felt like it was going to explode from his chest. Panicked, he looked down at his body and saw his muscles – practically non-existent under normal circumstances – rapidly growing and bulging beneath his stretching skin.

He touched his face and found that his nose and lips had flattened to sit almost flush with the rest of his face and his ears had become fin-like. His brow began to push outward, his chin to lengthen – and, he realised as his skintight bodysuit tore apart, his skin had turned a rust-like red.

“Interesting,” Nachtgleiskette said.

“What’s happened to me?!” Firefly asked.

“I think that orb of yours has a sense of humour,” Nachtgleiskette grinned and stepped back into the shadows between two trees, his naturally jet-black body becoming entirely visible.

“Where are you goi – ”

“Stranger!” Aleta cried as she and Joseph settled on the ground and she dropped her refractive light field, making them visible again. “What are you doing with the orb?”

Firefly looked down and saw the orb still held firmly in his right hand. He did not know what to do; Aleta and Joseph thought he was Doc Savage. If he revealed the truth, there would be questions – about how he got the orb, what had happened to him, where the real Savage was… questions he was not prepared to answer. He already worried about Ph-Eros revealing his plan to the team!

Still, if he let them think he was Savage, and that he had somehow managed to take the orb from Prime Minister Sakrova… he didn’t know what would happen. So he simply raised the orb and threw it hard towards the river, still burning from his attack on Namor, and ran.

Both Aleta and Joseph took to the air in an effort to reach the orb, and both missed; it hit the burning liquid and sank, and with neither Exile possessing an immunity to fire, it seemed irrecoverable. They turned back to the clearing, where ‘the Stranger’ had been standing, but he was gone.

“We can’t look for him,” Aleta said. “Firefly and Scamp take priority. They are our teammates, and we need to make sure they’re safe.”

Joseph tightly hugged Aleta as she once again formed her light disc and began to refract the light around them. Only a few feet away, hidden in the trees, Firefly began to sob quietly… and in the darkness, he did not notice as his body returned to normal.

The Mysterious Stranger kept walking. Since his experiences in Daywalker’s home dimension*, he had lost all control of his mind and body. All he could do was what came instinctively to the Xin’garoth demon that was the true identity of his ‘Doc Savage’ manifestation. Minutes earlier, the Xin’garoth seemed to leave his body, leaving him able only to keep walking until he hit something.

[ * – specifically EXILES #6 – Fred, because Adrian has run out of asterisks. Seriously, who uses four at once? ]

And hit something he did – the strong energy barrier cutting Symkaria off from the rest of the world. He continued to press against it, unable to think clearly enough to conceive or to turn away. The first sensation was one of pressure but, with each new touch he felt searing, burning pain.

Suddenly, his mind cleared.

Where am I? he wondered. What is this… barrier?

He reached out with one hand and laid his palm against the energy barrier, which immediately vanished. He stepped past it and observed what lay beyond – a dense forest, much of it burned; air, thick with pollution; and dead animals – dead people – laying all around. It was nothing like the beautiful forest he had been able to see when looking out from within the confines of the energy dome, but what concerned him more was the realisation that he was naked.

“That won’t do,” he muttered. He waved his right hand over his body and thick, heavy, red and gold robes covered him from his neck down. He began to levitate, only a few feet when, suddenly, the chaos of his mind came flooding back. He dropped to the burnt, ashen ground and began to walk aimlessly once more.

Inside Castle Symkaria, the news of the barrier’s disappearance was met first with incredulity, and then with fear. Guards who had been posted at the barrier’s perimeter rushed back with news of the devastated landscape beyond Symkaria’s borders and fear for what that devastation may mean.

“Mobilise our reconnaissance forces,” Prime Minister Sakrova ordered, “von Doom was behind this, and he must be confronted.” She turned to Battlestar, the leader of her elite guard, known as the Wild Pack. “Release the ‘Exiles’, but encourage them to aid us in finding Doom. And someone – make sure the barrier cannot reappear!”

Battlestar rushed out of Sakrova’s throne room and hurried to the wing of the castle to which the Exiles had been confined. He moved from room to room but found them empty; all save one. He crossed the room, to the bed where Ph-Eros lay sleeping. He pulled on the naked Exile’s right arm and dragged him from the bed, then pressed him hard, face-first, against the cold stone wall.

“Where are your friends?” Battlestar shouted the question. “Do not lie to me!”

“I… don’t know,” Ph-Eros answered. “To be honest… if they aren’t here, I’ll be kinda peeved that they left without me! Although I could probably forgive them for thinking I loved your unique hospitality!”

Battlestar jerked his knee hard, sending it into the small of Ph-Eros’ back. Were he not being held upright, the Exile would have fallen to his knees from the pain. Instead, he momentarily lost conscious control of his powers, and exposed to Battlestar, something he had worked hard to keep hidden from the moment he and the Exiles were brought together; his back, arms, neck, face and chest were marred by raised scars; his lips, mouth and nose were twisted as if in a permanent, deliberate sneer. Ph-Eros concentrated, and the scars seemed to vanish instantly – prompting a surprised Battlestar to let him go.

“What did you just do…?” Battlestar asked. He immediately threw himself again Ph-Eros again and held him back against the wall. “Actually, I do not care. Tell me where your friends are.” He tightened his grip on Ph-Eros’ arm and began to twist it slightly. “Now.”

“I told you… I don’t know!” Ph-Eros shouted. “And you really want to let go of me.”

“Do I? Why is that?”

Ph-Eros whispered, and Battlestar let go. The Wild Pack leader crossed the room and began to remove his red-and-black striped costume. When he was completely naked, he handed the costume to Ph-Eros, before finally running headlong into the wall and falling back, unconscious.

“That’s why,” Ph-Eros said as he slid into Battlestar’s costume, fully aware that he not only waited too long before making his clever remark, but that there was no-one there to hear it.

The costume, which had tightly hugged Battlestar’s slim but athletic body, was a little loose on Ph-Eros’ lanky frame; but they were roughly the same height, so he knew that he could “grow into it” if he really wished to. The boots and gloves fit perfectly, and he quickly located a small button inside the right glove that caused Battlestar’s rectangular shield to materialise and anchor itself to the same glove.

Awesome, he thought.

Ph-Eros appreciated his existing powers, but he was also completely cognizant of the fact that there were some foes he would simply never be able to fight in the same way as Aleta or Joseph. He had never had any intention of becoming a ‘superhero’, and certainly no intention of all but mugging Battlestar but, as with every other major event in his life, he was not going to pass up an opportunity to get what he wanted – regardless of how he had to go about doing it.

“Just like becoming an Exile.”

Ph-Eros was not sure if the voice in his head was his own; that certainly was not something he was likely to think. Becoming an Exile had not been the result of a spontaneous opportunity, and almost definitely not something he would have chosen to do. But the idea had entered his mind nonetheless – and the realisation that the thought may not have been his own terrified him.

The Wild Pack, unable to find their missing leader, had deployed themselves across the country in an effort to control the mass exodus of Symkarians, willing to subject themselves to the ravaged world beyond the fallen barrier rather than risk being trapped should it rise again. So focussed was the Wild Pack on their assigned task that they failed to notice the squadron of futuristic fighter jets crossing the city.

They could not help but notice the giant, armoured, floating head that appeared above Castle Symkaria, or the words that emerged from its holographic mouth:

“People of Symkaria, I am Victor von Doom, ruler of Latveria,” it said. “For months, your nation has been secured behind an impenetrable barrier of my own design, to create a sanctuary, immune from the suddenly-escalating dangers of the outside world – a world which, you can now see, has been ravaged by war.

“Yet you have met my kindness with distrust, and destroyed the barrier that protected you. Doom has no desire to safeguard a people who do not desire his protection. You have two hours to evacuate your country. At that time, the Latverian army will take charge of Symkaria – and any Symkarians remaining within your borders will swear allegiance to Doom… or perish.”

The image faded abruptly and the Wild Pack turned to one another for a reaction; but, met with a universal shrugging of shoulders, they simply began to redouble their efforts to assist the fleeing people of Symkaria. Prime Minister Sakrova would know what to do… they hoped.

NEXT ISSUE: Someone takes a Savage beating in the finale to ‘Divided’!

Written by Adrian J. Watt’s of SoftPixels