THE MARVEL KNIGHTS GROUP
PROUDLY PRESENTS...
ISSUE #2 written by D. Golightly
The soft grunts of a man working himself to his limit quietly sounded over the New York City skyline. Night had fallen barely moments ago, but already one of its vigilante protectors was on the prowl. Typically, this man dressed in crimson would otherwise be finishing up paperwork at his law practice, but tonight was one of those rare evenings when Matt Murdock could get done early. Leaving the somewhat hopeless cases of his clients behind, Matt leapt off of his building’s rooftop and into the night sky fearlessly. His skills earned through dedication and practice at the hands of a master ninja enabled him to run the gauntlet of fire escapes, high wires, and flagpoles with ease. However, in comparison to his fellow vigilante hunters, Matt Murdock had one disadvantage: he was blind. That blindness, forced upon him the same day he was doused in a bath of toxic chemicals, had been both a blessing and a curse. He would never again see the sun rise, or admire the color of a woman’s hair. Gone were the days of watching his favorite pro team win the championship game on a miracle play. But in place of that missing sense had been left a gift he cherished. He had dubbed it his “radar sense,” a unique form of echolocation that enabled him to see the world in a new way that some would argue was superior to the human eye. By absorbing sound waves in much the same way a bat or dolphin would, Matt was now presented with a three-hundred and sixty degree schematic of the world directly into his mind’s eye. He landed on his feet effortlessly, barely acknowledging the force of the fall. The jump across the alleyway was one he had done many times before, and even without his radar sense to guide him he could have done the leap blindfolded. His suit and tie had been left back in the office where they belonged; the night was where Daredevil roamed. His simple blood red costume with a pair of stylized D’s on his chest left the criminal element scarred silly when he was nearby. The opaque lenses in his mask subtly reflected whatever light was available, making it appear as if his eyes glowed red. A small pair of horns protruded from his forehead, prosthetics, but nonetheless effective when shaking down a general thug. Daredevil continued to run across the next roof without worry, nimbly avoiding the obstacle course made of TV receivers, smokestacks, and power lines. This part of the city was like his home away from home; there were no surprises in the architecture. His radar sense allowed him to outline entire buildings with great detail, making it easy for him to duck under one thing and then vault over another. When he reached the end of the roof, however, he paused. Something was wrong. Something was different and out of place. The air had been charged with something; he could feel that much on his skin. There was a subtle sense of pressure all around him, so subtle that he doubted someone without an enhanced sense of touch could feel it. A thunderclap sounded overhead, but he knew it couldn’t be attributed to a rain cloud. His enhanced sense of touch told him that the amount of moisture in the air wasn’t quite right. The thunder swept over the general area, and while most people wouldn’t give it a second thought, this sound would tell Daredevil more than a pair of eyes ever could. As the wave of noise washed over the buildings, streets, and alleys, Daredevil focused on the information being forced into his head. With each wall that the thunderclap echoed off of, another segment of the city was mapped out to him. It was as if an artist stenciled out the area and then wiped it away a fraction of a second later, but it only that fraction that he needed to confirm his suspicions. The city had been changed. Pieces of the landscape had been simply removed and then replaced by similar components. Like a jigsaw puzzle, the pieces all fit, but were slightly askew once interchanged. Buildings were wedged where vacant lots should have sat. Street corners bore to the left instead of the right. Seamless views were now obscured. It had something to do with the resounding pressure he felt all around him, he was sure of it. He had told Foggy that he needed to cut out early tonight and get some fresh air, but the real trigger for his donning the crimson suit was still echoing throughout the streets. People were screaming. Hundreds, perhaps thousands all around the city. He stepped to the roof’s edge and cocked his head to the side, letting the sounds enter him more sharply. He had heard them even from within his office and knew that he had to get involved. Whatever was doing this, he needed to figure it out before more innocents were harmed. The streets were filled with scared people, not all of them friendly. New York was known for inhabiting lowlifes and vagrants, desperate people that would take advantage of a situation like this. One of the tricks he had adapted to using frequently, almost unconsciously, was hearing heartbeats. He could instantly tell if a person was lying just by listening to their heart skipping a beat. It was useful in the courtroom, but it also made it very difficult for someone to sneak up on him. Daredevil whirled around, clutching his club in one hand. He had detected four heartbeats, only two of which he recognized. The first heartbeat made sense, given the oddness of the current peril and the abrupt manifestation of the four people on the roof with him. “Doctor Strange,” Daredevil remarked as he let his stance go slack. “Figures you would be involved. I take it you know what’s happening to the city?” The cloaked Sorcerer Supreme nodded. “Good evening, Daredevil.” Matt noted that the Doctor hadn’t used his real name, when typically he would have. That meant the other in their presence might not be trustworthy enough with that information. “Time is short,” Strange continued. “You’re invited to come with us to my Sanctum. I will have need of your skills.” “Who are they?” The man possessing the other heartbeat he had recognized grunted. “That blindness must finally be catching up with you. You and I have danced around enough to know each other by now,” the Punisher commented. “Not you, Castle. You’re lucky I have bigger concerns tonight, otherwise I’d be trying to bring you in.” Daredevil pointed the end of his club toward the other two standing just a bit behind Strange. “Them.” “Allies,” Strange replied. “Doctor Fate and the Batman can be trusted. I vouch for their sincerity and assure you that their interests match our own.” “So then what’s happening? The whole city is under fire…” “In short, a merging of cosmic proportions. If we waste much more time then we’ll be unable to stop it. Please, come with me.” Daredevil remained apprehensive, but knew better than to second guess Doctor Strange. His time spent on Strange’s team of misshapen Defenders had taught him that. He finally nodded and relaxed again, returning his red club to his thigh. Doctor Strange made a series of motions in the air, and in a whisk of energy, the five heroes were gone, stolen away by Strange’s magic. The roaring black plague of shadowy evil continued to rein down on the city, all the while guided by unseen hands. “Ten bucks says this ain't Gotham,”
a broad-shouldered man wearing a green tunic muttered. The moonlight
would have reflected brilliantly off of his costume if not for the twisting
and discolored skyline overhead. “Not by a long shot.” “They
cannot succeed.” The disembodied entity floated through the city then, smiling at the turmoil he had caused. The denizens of both New York and Gotham, each so sure that the place they were now in was their own home, ran amok in the streets like wild animals. The safety of what they knew had been decimated, struck down by the simple ritual he had committed. “Do not take me for a fool.” The man tilted his head to one side as he spoke, saying, “I would never endanger our unique…relationship. Not at this juncture. Not when we are so close.” His head tilted to the opposite side when the reply came, oddly, from his own mouth. “Even if you control this body we now share, I still have enough influence over your soul to do you harm. Betray me and face the consequences.” “To betray you would be to betray my master. Dormammu is a god the likes of which you have never seen and I dare not jeopardize myself by going against you. Have faith, wizard. Our task will soon be complete.” “Your Dormammu cannot compare to my own Lord…but this is not the time for petty squabbles. Those repugnant heroes could be a thorn in our plans. Since, as you say, this is primarily your dimension, what do you suggest we do? The ritual must not be disturbed by the likes of them!” “They gather forces to oppose us. Therefore, we shall gather forces to oppose them.” The man felt an inwardly sense of satisfaction, which no doubt came from the other entity he was now bound with. He saw another dark cloud of blackness swing down into the city and pick another structure, replacing it with a different one, and felt a sense of connection with the act. His own soul, after all, had undergone the same process. The only difference between what had happened to him and what happened around him, was that he had called the change to himself willingly. With the merge of his soul with a kindred one, his power has doubled easily. Perhaps even tripled now that avenues of magic previously unknown to him were as open as they could be. As proof of that the two Doctors has been oblivious to his presence, an act that never could have transpired before he had merged. “Where do we start, Baron Mordo?” his doppelganger inquired. “We begin the same way they did, Mordru. We collect allies. Then…we attack.” A shimmering portal enveloped
a room deep in the Sanctum Sanctorum, briefly illuminating the entire
space for a split second, and then it vanished, leaving behind more
than a half dozen costumed men and women. Their number had grown to
eight before Strange had deemed it necessary to return to his lair.
The room he had brought them to, deep within the bowels of his home,
was large and round with a pillar nearly waist-high in the exact center.
The stone walls were devoid of any artistry save for a few randomly
hung tapestries, all of which were made of dark tones. Their souls were now intertwined thanks to the spell, and each could feel the other standing near them without having to look. Their heartbeats began to thump in rhythm with each other, which was immediately noticed by the man without fear, Daredevil. It was an odd sensation, and once the spell took full effect, there was a surge of power that blanketed the entire room. Each of the men and women felt the breath being sucked out of their lungs as the power quickly condensed and them rushed out of them like a vacuum. Energy spiraled out of their bodies, fueled by their own souls, and spun itself into the Prism waiting quietly on the pillar between them all. The process, which seemed to happen so quickly, actually took nearly a quarter of an hour. Time seemingly stopped by their perceptions, clouded by the effort of concentration and the mystical ramifications of Strange’s spell coupled with the drawing power of Fate’s talisman. The energy built up inside the Ja’ti Prism, swirling inside its thin edges like a torrential storm ready to be unleashed upon the world. A soft, pink film extended out from the Prism, coating it in pure magic. A brief moment later, the film hardened and rocketed out in all directions, swiftly moving through and passed the encircled heroes. “Holy—” Spider-Man began to say. “Focus!” Fate called out. “Keep your thoughts in line with each others!” The nearly inaudible thrumming beat of the Prism had grown in decibels to a nearly blaring noise that rattled the teeth of those present. The wall of pink magic pushed by them and through the walls of the chamber, reaching out through the entire Sanctum and into the night air of the chaotic city. It moved gracefully throughout the landscape, brushing over the inhabitants and the structures like they didn’t even exist. Soon a pink bubble had formed over the entire city, solidifying in place once it reached just passed the outer fringes. The pressure against their minds vanished and the heroes all let out a collective breath. “That…was weird,” Green Arrow said after taking in a few deep breathes. Catwoman wobbled unsteadily on her feet, but quickly regained her composure. She studied each of the heroes around her before looking for an exit, thinking that her role in the matter was now done. Regardless of whatever benefits she might reap from their company, she was much too insecure being surrounded by the vigilantes. She wasn’t one of them, not really, no matter what the Bat said. “What exactly did we just do?” the Punisher said as he stretched his arms over his head and cracked his knuckles. “Felt like a train bowled over us when that bubble popped out of the Prism.” “The Ja’ti Prism projected a barrier out through the city, closing it off to stop the spread of black magic,” Doctor Fate explained. “The merging of our realms will stop for now, but it is not a permanent solution. We must find Mordru and whoever he is working with before it is too late.” The Batman stood completely still, apparently unaffected by the trial they had all just undergone. “Is only magic cut off by the barrier?” he inquired. “No,” Strange replied. “For all intents and purposes, the city has been shut off from physical interaction as well.” “So we’re the only good guys in long-johns that are available to save the day?” Spider-Man asked rhetorically. “Piece of cake. Webslinging always beats out spellslinging. God, I am sooo not ready for this…” Before anyone else could add to the conversation, Daredevil grew tense and stepped to the center of their circle. He cocked his head to one side, as if listening intently to something that no one else could hear. His hands, which had hung gently at his side, were slowly bunching up into fists as he noticeably grew uncomfortable by something. “Someone’s coming,” the man without fear said. “Doctor Strange…who was it you said was upstairs guarding us?” “My apprentice, my assistant, and my wife,” the Sorcerer Supreme answered. His brow wrinkled in question to Daredevil’s inquiry, and then he closed his eyes to reach out with his own senses. “There’s a lot more than three people headed for us,” Daredevil said. “I can hear their feet in the hallway. Something’s wrong.” Strange’s eyes suddenly blared open as he screamed, “Everyone get back!” But before any of them could move to take cover, the large wooden doors leading out of the chamber were shattered from the outside, sending shards of wood into the room. The fist that had broken the doors open with a single punch pulled back from the threshold, covered in slick, gray, scaled skin. Its owner’s appearance matched it, along with a broad smile that flashed several rows of sharp teeth that looked like that belonged to a shark and not a man. In his other arm he carried a large, green, fur covered biped with horns protruding from its forehead. The creature hefted the thing off of its shoulder and tossed it into the room for the heroes to see. It tumbled over until it finally came to a stop on its back, where Doctor Strange saw the unconscious face of his apprentice, Rintrah, who had been charged with their protection. “That one didn’t put up much of a fight once his tricks were shut down by my new buddy,” the gray creature in the doorway said. “And that lady and that Asian guy, too. They sure did scream though…” “Who dares violate my Sanctum?” Strange demanded as his own fists balled up. “Who?” “His name,” the Batman offered, “is Killer Croc. And I don’t think he’s alone.” Five others of varying horrific design approached from behind Killer Croc, each studying the collected heroes over as if ready to pounce like wild animals. One wore a green cloak and had a face reminiscent of a certain bird of prey, from which he had taken his namesake, the Owl. Another wore a mask with straw brimming from behind it, and jagged teeth within his covered mouth, looking like the scarecrow that he portrayed. Still another wore a purple and yellow costume and had a thin mustache over his upper lip, and playfully bounced back and forth on his feet like a spring ready to launch. Batroc the Leaper had the look of death in his eyes. “Odds are in our favor,” another of their number said as he stepped into the light. One half of his face looked just like any other white male’s, but the other half was hideously disfigured and twisted into a grotesque mask that would give a child nightmares. He flipped a coin casually in one hand; the trademark of the gangster called Two-Face. “Mmm…it feels so good to be out of Ravencroft!” a sultry female voice said as she walked up to Two-Face and leaned on his shoulder. “Is that the spider I see over there? Oh, this day just keeps getting better!” “Shriek,” Spider-Man whispered to himself. “Crap. This just can’t get any worse, can it?” In silent response to his question, the last man behind the villains floated to the front of their pack. He dragged a pair of bodies through the air by way of a levitation spell he had bound to them. Once he came before the heroes he guided the two unconscious bodies to the knocked-out Rintrah and let them collapse on top of each other. One was a short Asian man that was completely bald; the other was a woman with silver hair. “Wong,” Strange muttered. “My beloved Clea…who are you? I demand to know the name of the man I am about to kill!” “My identity is known to both you wizards,” the leader of the villain’s pack replied. “But it has also been changed. I applaud you on your success in stopping the crossing, but it was all for naught. As soon as I spill every last drop of blood out of your bodies I plan to destroy that crystal bauble that keeps the spell in place, and then I will rule this cursed land and turn it into my own version of Hell on Earth.” “I sense Chaos Magic in you,” Fate said. “But you are not Mordru.” “Nabu’s lapdog speaks! No, I am no longer just Mordru. My power has doubled thanks to the crossing, and I daresay you don’t stand a chance against me now. Nor do you Strange.” “The Baron,” Strange said. “I sense the dark power in you that the Baron adores so much. Baron Mordo…” “Finally you begin to understand! This body, this amalgamation, has been infused with the power of both Mordru and Mordo. Power enough to bring our masters together. Power enough to kill you all!” With a wave of his hand, the dark sorcerer created several pockets in space that sucked the heroes up into a void. Neither of the doctors could devise a counter spell quickly enough, as they both felt a numbing sensation spread throughout their arms. Mordru, or Mordo, whichever was in primary control of the shared body, somehow locked down their magicks with ease. Each set of villains behind him chose smiled and then leaped in after the heroes, broken up into pairs. Both Strange and Fate watched in horror as the heroes they had gathered were divided, split up and lost to wherever the madman had sent them. “Their deaths will be quick, but you…both of you, will know what it is to feel true pain!” Dark energy swirled in the evil sorcerer’s hands as he charged the two awaiting heroes, cackling like a mad fool the entire time. They fought to raise a defense, but still found their arms numb and unable to move. Horribly, terrifyingly, the two began to realize that they might be outmatched… TO BE CONTINUED… Make sure you check out the City of Chaos one-shots that help to further expand on this story! |