Cosmic Disruption

Part 3

“Conflagration”

Roll Call:
Jay “The Malleable Man”
Scarlett Speedstress
Iron Maiden
The Cheat
Fenrir
The Midnight Runner
Luna Huntress
Arc Angel
Countdown
Mooncat
Beast Nelson
Lionheart
Pendragon
The Mirage
Solarwind
X-Ray Man
UltraDoll
Got-Gal
Will O’Wisp
Nebula
Whiplash
Runway
Oakheart
White Lightning
Carrumble
Black Mist
The Sentinel

Crowd Control Team:

“You know what, buddy?” Lionheart said as he clubbed away another wild swinging tentacle.  “What’s that?” Carrumble asked.
”I’m getting pretty damn sick of this mutha’, how about we rip it a new one?”
”Sounds good to me,” Carrumble said, “Sooner the better.  Beast Nelson  needs our help.” Lionheart managed to snag a tentacle at the same moment Currumble got a stony grip on another.  “Heave!” Carrumble shouted and the two huge heroes flexed their enormous muscles.  For the first time, the alien beast made a sound.  In a shrill, piercing, undulating cry it screamed as they tore two parallel tentacles free from its body leaving a massive rent that spewed black ichor onto the sidewalk like an overflowing drain.  “Two for the price of one!” Lionheart roared.

Mooncat reached Fenrir just seconds before three tentacles struck the downed hero.  Tumbling athletically she stopped right over the team leader, positioning herself to protect him while he recovered from the fall.  Quick as a flash the alien appendages struck, beating and smashing at her ferociously.  Mooncat was a blur of swift movements, dodging here, ducking there, avoiding the clumsy attacks stylishly.  “You need more practice,” she told the alien, “All this activity is pretty useless when you are so uncoordinated.”  She had held the monster off long enough for Fenrir to climb to his feet, wheezing a little.  “Took a blow there, boss man?” She asked.
“No big deal,” Fenrir told her.  “Nothing I won’t give back in spades on this Lovecraft wannabe.” Grinning, Mooncat joined him in his counterattack, both heroes deadly in their savage assault.

Beast Nelson was getting a sinking feeling.  He could certainly think of better ways to spend his day than being suffocated by the constricting power of a huge green tentacle.  It was just as well his beady eyes were already crimson because the crushing power of the monster would have made it so anyway.  Just then he felt a slight slackening of the beast’s grasp, aware that Lionheart and Carrumble had hurt the monster enough to make it squeal  and distract it.  Beast Nelson took the opportunity to grab a gasp of oxygen before reversing his giant size and shrinking to the scale of a normal man.  Just like that he was free and running.  No time to lose, he thought.  We may have cut a break but this thing could turn the tables again.  We need to end this.

Runway was, quite literally, poised for her moment of glory.  Although people were staying well clear of the dramatic battle she could see cameras and news teams and people with their phones held high all waiting to catch this dramatic victory.  She felt she should say something as she plunged the sharp metal shard into the alien’s eye.  Smiling for the media she declared: “Beauty kills the beast…” but her movement was cut short as the tentacle smashed into her from behind.  Between having the oxygen blasted from her lungs and being aware of her body tumbling through the air she just about had time to think: “Crap.  This is gonna hurt.”  Then she hit the concrete, slid twenty feet and laid still.

The fall of their comrade was enough to send the two really big guys over the edge.  Lionheart, always only a moment away from rage at the best of times, quite literally lost his mind.  The roar he emitted caused friend and foe alike to tremble in the face of his fury.  Joining him came Carrumble, his heavy stone footsteps thundering along the ground as the pair charged the main mass of the alien horror.
” RRRROOOARRR! Let’s shred this thing!” Lionheart cried as he launched himself in a pummelling dive at the object of his wrath.  Carrumble, a little more strategic, first assessed that Beast Nelson was free, then used his sixth sense to pick a good approach.  But once that was done he threw himself on the monster with no less battle lust.

Fenrir could see that if there was ever going to be a moment to turn the tide, this was it.  “We’re doing great, guys,” he shouted encouragement to his team.  He was worried about Runway, but he knew morale couldn’t be allowed to fall or they were all doomed.  “Come on,” he said to Mooncat, “Let’s take this fight right to the freak.” Nodding her agreement, Mooncat tumbled her way up on top of the tentacles.  Fenrir followed, copying Runway’s earlier tactic of jumping from place to place towards the ugly blinking eye.

Beast Nelson used the distraction created by the others to get to Runway and pull her to her feet.  “You okay?” He growled.
”I’ll live,” She groaned, wiping blood from her face.  “Though my pride might take a while to recover.  Do you think the news guys caught that on tape?”
”No chance,” Beast Nelson lied with a grin.  “You want out?  I can take up the slack if you’re hurt.”
“Not on your life,” Runway grinned fiercely.  “This thing has messed up my outfit and my accessories.  Now  it’s personal.”
”Okay then, let’s get back in the fight.”
”Wait,” Runway said, snatching up the shard of metal from where it had fallen, “I have another plan.”
”The last one didn’t work out so well,” Beast Nelson reminded her.
“I’ve improved it,” Runway winked.
”What is the improvement?” Beast Nelson asked her.
“You are.”

The alien seemed to have learnt from its earlier close call.  What had seemed like a rapid ascent towards its eye had turned into a difficult task for Fenrir and Mooncat.  Even though Carrumble and Lionheart were doing a lot of damage and stealing the monsters attention it managed to prevent them getting too close to its nerve centre with a wall of waving tentacles and slithering attacks.  “You’re quicker than me,” Fenrir said, “I’ll go to the side and pull its attacks towards me.  You use your agility to stick it in the brain.”
”Sounds good,” Mooncat laughed, cartwheeling over a flailing appendage as Fenrir slashed and tore the monsters attention his way.

“She’s gonna make it,” Lionheart laughed, adding another ripped off tentacle to his steadily growing pile.  “Twenty bucks says I get more slimy legs in my stack than you do.”
“You’re on,” Carrumble agreed, though he was far from sure if he could beat his friend in this grisly competition.  If there was one thing Lionheart seemed uniquely suited to it was mayhem and violent destruction.  “You make a fine art of gore,” He told the other hero with appreciation.
”Nothing I like more than tearing up on gigantic creatures from space,” Lionheart assured him.  “You just can’t beat it.”

Her gymnastic prowess had almost succeeded in getting her to the creature’s eye and Mooncat could hear the shouted encouragement of Fenrir and the two big heroes.  But a new obstacle  prevented her from reaching her prize.  Just before the eye a dozen tiny waving tentacles sprung from a hidden fleshy sack in the alien’s hide, flashing quickly about, each culminating in a vivid purple stinger.  “Now that’s something you don’t seem every day,” Mooncat muttered.  “Hey guys,” She called back, “Got a problem here.  Can’t reach the eye.  Anybody know how to deal with stinger tentacles?”

“We do,” Said Beast Nelson.  Following Runways cue he surged to full huge size.  Held in his arms was Runway.  Using his higher vantage point and massive strength he threw the heroine through the air in a long, perfect arc.  “Here I come again, big feller,” Runway shouted as she angled the shard at the blinking iris.  “Please do take this personally!”

Still fighting with Fenrir, Lionheart and Carrumble the monster was unable to bring its few remaining tentacles into play.  Having used its last defence to stop Mooncat it had nothing else in reserve.  All it could do was watch Runway plummet through the air, spike extended.  She hit the bulging lens like a bullet and drove the sharp shard into the soft gelatinous mass with every ounce of her strength.  The creatured screamed and screamed and screamed.  It thrashed and bubbled and slurped wetly.  It convulsed and squirmed and writhed.  And then, finally, it lay still.  “I think,” Beast Nelson said with a tired grin, “He finally got the point.”

Just then the huge body of the Beast shuddered and collapsed in upon itself.  From the seething and stinking corpse something, or rather someone, emerged.  A woman cloaked in sheets of dark green and swirling grey was poised there, her hands dancing enigmatically.  Her face set earnestly in concentration.  “Hey lady,” Lionheart roared, “You’re too late.  We already killed it.”
“I can see that,” the strange woman said sweetly, “If you hold on a minute I’ll just summon another.”
“You’ll what?” the heroes gasped in unison.
“Shall I talk more slowly?” the woman asked, her hands moving faster.  “To help you understand what is about to happen to you?”

Rescue Team:

The Scarlett Speedstress found Midnight Runner at the blocked doorway looking helplessly at it.  “Hey!” he shouted.  “Over here!  Help!” In a blink the girl was standing next to him grinning: “That’s what I’ve come to do.”
”We need to move this beam.  I’m not strong enough.”
Scarlett looked at him askance: “Do I look like a brick to you?  I’m really, really fast.  That’s about it.”
”How fast are your hands?” Midnight Runner asked her.
“Like I said, really, really fast.”
“Okay,” Midnight Runner said, “I’m going to try something new.” He took the girl’s hands in his and squinted his eyes, concentrating.  Although he couldn’t share his force field with another over their whole body, maybe, just maybe, he could protect her hands.  Sure enough, an invisible band of energy snapped into place from her wrists down.  “That’s very nice,” Scarlett said, “But what good does it do?”
”I’m making a human power tool,” Midnight Runner said, eyeing the timber beam before him.  “Start chopping lady, I don’t know how long I can keep this up.”

The Cheat was hanging from the bottom of the elevator, directly over the roaring flames below.  It had seemed a good idea at the time, stretching up to the trapped metal box to get closer to the people he wanted to save.  There was a hatch on the base of the elevator, but it wasn’t an escape, it was a service access point and was riveted into place.  Dangling there, feeling the flames singe him as they crept higher up the shaft, he was unsure how he would get these people out.
”Help,” Came a man’s voice from within.  “You said you’d help us.  We’re cooking in here.”
“I’m cooking out here,” The Cheat muttered, but he continued to use his flexible fingers to cling on and work at the tough metal bolts.

The stranger walked casually through the smoky corridor towards Whiplash and Arc Angel.  He was grinning beneath his black face mask.  “I’m going to enjoy this,” the villain said.  “I know I am.”
Arc Angel was whistling an obscure British song, “Last Christmas.” The two men ignored her.  ”Don’t bet on it pardner,” Whiplash flexed his weapon and raised an eyebrow.  “I’m gonna whip ya harder than an ornery mule.”
”You’re going to try,” the man said.  “That’s all.”

When the villain came at the two heroes he did so with surprising speed.  But it was not the speed which set him apart, it was the odd disjointed movements that were difficult to follow.  Whiplash found it hard to keep track on the man’s trajectory with his vision.  “S’okay,” Whiplash said, closing his eyes.  “No need to see to hit something with ma’ whip.  Learnt this trick years ago.”  He flicked the weapon and the air thrummed with vibrational power, literally lighting up the corridor with the force of its focused might.  Craaack!   But the villain was not there.  He was precisely where Whiplash had thought he would not be.  “Whuh?”
Before he could react, Whiplash caught a knee to the stomach and an elbow to the side of his head, sending him reeling.  The mystery villain grinned again.  “Fun, like I said.”  Arc Angel felt his gaze fall on her and began to back away, golden eyes glowing softly.  “There’s no need for violence,” She told him.
“Lady,” the man said, “Wash your mouth out.  There is always need for violence.”

The Sentinel’s wide range of senses were picking up multiple problems.  In the first instance there was a scent on the air that was most unsettling.  Somewhere in the building something which just didn’t belong here was walking the corridors amongst his friends.  But above him his powerful hearing could pick up the panting of The Cheat’s breath, close to panic.  Who to help?  Where to go?  He dashed back to the window and shouted out to Oakheart.  “On the floor above, near the middle of the building, The Cheat’s in trouble.  If you can get someone in there, do so.  I’m going to deal with this other thing.” Flickering out of sight, The Sentinel paced into the building’s interior to hunt out the foe.

Oakheart waited, but nobody came.  He hadn’t seen Scarlett Speedstress or Midnight Runner.  He didn’t know where Arc Angel and Whiplash were.  But the Sentinel had said there was trouble.  Made of wood or not, Oakheart couldn’t sit here and leave an ally in danger.  He pulled himself into the second floor window, shrinking to as near to normal size as was possible for him as he went.  “I’m coming friend,” he promised, trying to ignore the intense heat all around him.  “I hope I’m not too late.”

Scarlett’s hands were a blur as the speedstress used them both to chop at the wood.  Able to move incredibly fast the intense velocity turned them into devastating cutting tools.  Of course, this would have smashed her bones to powder normally, but with the force field protecting them she was able to make short work of the wood.  As the log fell away Midnight Runner laughed.  “You’re the prettiest lumberjack I ever heard of,” he said.  Ignoring him, Scarlett Speedstress open the door a crack.  Smoke came pouring out of the room beyond.
”Please, please,” a female voice gasped.  “We’re trapped.  We’re going to die!”
”You are not going to die! I won’t let you!” She assured them.
“Wait,” Midnight told her, “Check the room first.  Look,” He indicated the ceiling, bowing under the weight of its buckling capacity.  “Let me go, I’ve got the force field.”
”Okay,” Scarlett said, “Be quick.”
Midnight Runner dashed into the room, using his heightened eyesight to pick out the woman and her son that were crouching and coughing in the corner.  He snatched the pair up and dashed from the room just as the ceiling came down from above in a burst of flame, dust and rubble.
”Wow,” Midnight Runner gasped outside the door.  “That was close.”
”What happened to your forcefield?” the Speedstress asked, looking at his dusty shoulders with surprise.
”Used all my power protecting your hands,” Midnight Runner grinned, carrying the civilians along the hall before she could indignantly respond to his bravado.

“Okay then,” Whiplash growled.  “You gone done and asked for it now.”
”Have I?” the Villain’s lip curled as he looked away from the girl.  “Really?  Have I?”
”Yep,” Whiplash came at him fast then, snapping off one crackling blow after another so that the whip filled the corridor with its power.  “Not so easy to dodge when there’s nowhere left ta’ go, is it?” Whiplash asked.
“Sure it is,” the Villain said, moving behind the hero in a bizarre dance that didn’t seem to obey the laws of physics.  A sliced blow from the side of his hand struck Whiplash on the neck and sent him, numb and temporarily paralysed, to his knees.
”I’ll take care of you in a minute,” the Villain smiled, “But first let’s see what the lady can do.  My money says … not much.”

Arc Angel held up both hands placatingly.  “Listen,” she tried, gently.  “I don’t know who you are, but you don’t seem to be an alien.  If you’re just some super-criminal looking for easy pickings then we don’t need to fight. I’m here to rescue people.  Loot if you want.  Although it would be better if you would help us rescue some folks.” The black-garbed man smiled cruelly and let his cold gaze burn its way into the heroines mind.  “I’m not just some villain,” he said. “I’m much, much more than that.  I’m not here to loot, I’m here to kill superheroes.  I knew you were coming.  I’m here for you.  First the cowboy here, then you, then the walking tree and all the others.  One by one I’m going to take your pathetic team apart.”
”Oh dear,” Arc Angel said, her voice a little shaky.  “That sounds very threatening.”
“It is supposed to,” He chuckled, pushing Whiplash over with his foot as he took methodical steps closer to the woman.
“Well then,” Arc Angel told him, “I suppose you force me to do this.”
Arc Angel appeared suddenly next to the stranger and put both arms around him.  He was surprised enough to not react immediately and that was a big mistake.  Ten seconds later she appeared outside with him still in her grasp shouting: “Get him Oakheart.” But Oakheart wasn’t there.
”Good plan,” the man told her.  “Sorry it didn’t work out.  Now you die.”

The Cheat had unscrewed about half the bolts when the heat overcame him.  The flames were now only twenty feet below and the temperature in the shaft was incredible.  Unable to leave the people in the elevator to die he had kept on too long.  He knew it as his vision began to swim.  “What a way to go,” he muttered as his grip failed and he fell towards the flames.  But seconds later he did not fall into the waiting inferno.  Two huge tree-like arms reached into the elevator shaft, caught him, and pulled him out to safety.  “Need some help?” asked a smoke-blackened Oakheart.
”Glad to see you,” The Cheat grinned.
”What’s going on?” Oakheart asked.
“People,” Cheat gasped, “Trapped in elevator.”
Oakheart climbed in, ignoring the intense pain of the fire below him he extended his wooden limbs to the sides of the shaft and begin to climb.  Reaching the metal base he smashed in the hatch with one powerful blow.  Sweaty faces peered anxiously down from above.  “Please,” Said a woman, “Get us out.”
Just then The Cheat stretched up and made a rubbery slide of his malleable body.  “One chute to safety, folks,” He grinned, “Quick as you can.  It’s hot in here.”

Arc Angel lay on the ground groaning.  She had tried to fight, but the man was a demon in combat.  Everything she attempted was blocked with casual ease and followed up by a jarring kick or a devastating punch.  He seemed to be everywhere and nowhere, an impossible enemy to strike.  Now, his foot was poised over her throat as he gloated viciously.  “This is not a move known for its finesse,” he crowed.  “But it will probably paralyse you from the neck down.”  Before he could deliver the deadly blow a wave of energy knocked him from his feet and sent him skittering along the floor.  The Sentinel flickered into view, his hands glowing ominously.
”Hit a man from behind, would you?” the Villain asked.
”Hit a woman would you?” The Sentinel countered.
”Doesn’t matter,” The villain chucked, “You wont be hard to beat.”
Crack-kow!  The air lit up as a flickering whip flashed from a rent in the wall and took the mystery man in the knees knocking him down once more.
”Hey there,” Whiplash said, stepping from the darkness.  “This is where ya’ll got ta.  Did ya’ miss me?”

“Still not enough to stop me killing you all,” the man sneered.
“How about now?” Came another voice.  One by one Oakheart, Midnight Runner and Scarlett Speedstress emerged from the burning building.  For the first time, the villain’s manner changed.  He looked worried.  “What’s the matter?” Whiplash asked.  “Not so quick with the small talk now?” The Villain took a step backwards, assessing the situation, calculating his odds.  He didn’t seem to like them so much anymore.
”Perhaps we do not need to fight,” The black-garbed man said, looking around for a way out.  The heroes had surrounded him.
“Wash your mouth out,” Arc Angel sang sweetly. “It’s always time for violence, remember?”

Espionage Team:

Black Mist passed effortlessly through the steel door, intangible as a ghost he passed into a dark chamber.  So utterly black that he was unable to see anything.  For one brief second he had the terrible idea he had moved through an outer wall into space, but then his logical mind acknowledged that he couldn’t see stars, or the Earth, just blackness.  Not knowing what else to do he solidified and felt around for a light switch or some alien equivalent.  His hands touched the walls, flat, cold, metallic.  Then his fingers found a wheel and he realised this was the other side of the door.  Quickly he turned it until the door spun open revealing his friends peering in from outside.  Light flooded in from the corridor.
”Suuuurrrrprise!” Black Mist said.
”Not really,” Will-O-Wisp told him.

“Weird,” Luna Huntress said.  What little they could make out appeared to be huge screens mounted on the walls, connecting by pink pulsing cables that had the tinge and texture of new flesh.   “We are on an alien ship, miss,” Will-O-Wisp reminded her, “It’s likely you’re gonna be seeing some strangeness.”
”Yes,” Luna Huntress told him.  “But it’s not just the look of the place.  It feels weird too.  Wrong.”
”There are buttons on those screens,” Black Mist pointed out.  “Is it just me or are they crying out to be pressed?”
”Ye’re a man after me’ own heart,” Will-O-Wisp assured him.  “Let’s see what they do then.”

“You look human,” Countdown told the brightly-clad stranger.  “What are you doing here?  Are you part of one of the other teams?”
”Like I said,” the man smiled, his powerful form oozing menace and danger in equal measures.  “I’m here to crush some bones.  Your bones.  It’s been a while.  I might take it slow.”
”You seem very confident,” The Mirage told him, “But you should remember there are two of us and only one of you.”
”It does seem unfair on you,” the man said.
The Mirage’s hands lit up with glowing laser light.  Countdown gestured and three Viking Warriors appeared next to him, axes at the ready.  The heroes waited for their enemy to make his move.

The man in the bright costume was like a tsunami of power.  He flashed into the Vikings midst and smashed the hapless linear summonings to pieces with thunderclap slaps from his mighty hands.  Laughing jovially, he shrugged off a point blank full-power laser blast.  Both heroes fell upon him punching and kicking and the man stood still, hands on his hips, absorbing the blows without flinching. When they were done he clapped his hands and the force of the collision knocked both heroes off their feet.  “Gentlemen,” the man said, “You are vastly overmatched.”
”Think so?” The Mirage asked, pointing a finger and firing a stream of energy into his eyes.  The man blinked and smiled.  “Yes, I do.”
But then he stopped absolutely still.  The Mirage looked to Countdown, whose fingers were curled as he struggled to hold the man frozen in time.  “This,” Countdown gasped, “Is much harder than usual.”
”How long can you hold him?” The Mirage asked.
”Not long.”

The boys were clearly excited and so Luna Huntress allowed waves of relaxion to flow from her, keeping them calm and careful.  She didn’t tell them she was doing this, but she felt more confident with her two excitable companions not being too hasty.  “You ready for this?” Black Mist asked, his finger hovered over a button in front of him.
“I was born ready,” Will-O-Wisp told him.
Black Mist pressed the button and the screen hummed to life, displaying a picture of space with the Earth hanging serenely in its center.
“Oh,” Black Mist said, “A viewport.  Not that exciting.”
”No,” Luna Huntress said.  “You’re wrong.”
”What do you mean?” Will-O-Wisp asked.
”Look.  That’s not quite Earth.”
They looked  and she was right.  It wasn’t quite Earth.  Some of the continents were slightly wrong.  The Polls were too large.  It was similar, but not quite Earth.
”Now that IS weird,” Black Mist breathed.  The others nodded.

“Perhaps,” said a voice from the back of the room, “You could tell me what you think you’re doing?” All three would have probably jumped out of their skins, were it not for the calming effects Luna Huntress was emitting. Instead they stared coolly at the new arrival.  A man, bare-chested, his skin covered in tribal tattoos, hovered with crossed-legs a few feet off the floor.  He was powerfully-muscled and had a green gem embedded in his forehead.  “I wondered how long it would be until heroes of your Earth arrived.”
”I think I speak for us all when I say, I hope you are on our side,” Will-O-Wisp told the man.
”I’m afraid,” the newcomer said with icy malice, “That is not the case.”

Jay woke up in a glass box.  He looked around trying to put together where he might be.  The room was clearly aboard the alien spacecraft, but he couldn’t remember how he came to be here.  Trapped in some kind of force cell he peered out at the long table with chairs around it.  A lone figure stood staring at a gigantic viewscreen, watching as a host of giant robots closed upon a group of tiny floating heroes.

“Your allies are about to die,” the person told Jay, not turning around.  “These ones in space and all the others too.”
”Why?” Jay asked.  “What do you want?”
”The same thing we always want,” the voice, Jay recognised it was female, told him.  “The destruction of the Earth.  And the next.  And the next.”
”I don’t understand,” Jay stood up, feeling weakness in his limbs.  Had he been drugged?  “Who are you?” He gasped.
Finally the woman turned around and Jay gasped in surprise.  He was awed by the thrum from the power armour the female wore.  He was horrified by the energy he could feel rolling from her in waves, enough to crush him thrice over in a second.  But most of all he was terrified, because he knew her and he didn’t understand what was going on.
”Doctor Magenta?  How?  I don’t get it.  You’re dead.”
”Appearances,” the woman sneered wickedly, “Can be deceptive.”

Space Combat Team:

The Robots really were huge.  As big as houses they dwarfed the heroes as their horde zoomed closer.  Ultra Doll, probably due to the fact that she had her own sealed armour rather than government-issue, was at the front when the forces collided.  Using her metal body like a battering ram she smashed into the first robot at high speed.  In space, it had been hard to gauge momentum but it was clearly quite something because the robot took the blow badly, its chest plate crumpling like the bonnet of a car as it spun helplessly backwards.  “Hey!” Ultra Doll grinned, “We’re in with a chance here!”
”You got lucky,” Solarwind’s voice came over on the intercom.  “How did you know that would work?”
”Who says TV & Comics never teach you anything!” Ultra Doll laughed.  But her frivolity was cut short as two other robots came in from either side, looking for some mechanical payback.

Iron Maiden and Got-Gal were next to join the fray, on the left and right flanks of Ultra Doll they peeled into her attackers.  Got-Gal struck hard and fast, her enhanced strength combined with the speed she was flying enabling her to tear an arm from a giant robot.  Although it was the size of a garage, in space it was weightless and Got-Gal used it to club the rest of the robot back into space.  “”Ever since I was a young boy I’ve played the silver ball…” she sang through the intercom despite persistent complaints from their leader.  Iron Maiden was stronger still, though perhaps less agile.  She chose to punch her way into the other robot, shredding its armour-plating and tearing out handfuls of wires from within.  The lifeless ‘bot floated off into the void releasing plumes of grey smoke which were quickly swallowed by the vacuum.

Pendragon was in his element.  Such was his power to produce flame that even the cold void took time to snuff it out.  As he accelerated towards the enemy he was surrounded by a glowing nimbus, a beautiful inferno in the darkness.  But it wasn’t flame that dealt damage to his opponent, it was blow after mighty blow from his relentless fists.
“Things are getting hot, can you take the heat like I can?” he asked the robot.  The mechanoid remained silent, buckled and shredded by the force of his attacks.  “I guess not,” Pendragon laughed, ripping the head from the machine and hurling it away.

X-Ray man sighed as he squared up, hovering in space before a robot that dwarfed him in scale.  “Robots?  Come on.  Do all super-menaces have a stock in trade of them?”  The Robot took a massive swipe at him, but X-Ray man flew backwards, releasing radioactive energy in a cloud between them.  With the power of his mind alone X-Ray Man tried to shape the energy into a lasso.  It had seemed like a fun idea, but now he realised that his power wouldn’t allow for that.  Other heroes had energy known as ‘constructs’ that did things like this, but his nuclear power just wasn’t as controllable as that.  “Ah well,” he said, “Mushroom cloud it is then.”
Seconds later the force of his attack turned a hulking metal ‘droid into molten slag.

White Lightning and Nebula had a plan.  Side-By-Side the two heroes flew towards a small cluster of robots.  “You ready?” White Lightning asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” Nebula agreed.  Between them the two heroes may have been the team’s hardest hitters in the energy stakes.  They had decided to see what a double-team might achieve.  The robots, whether through their own automated intelligence or through some exterior design, slowed up and approached cautiously, as if sensing there was something particularly dangerous about these two.
”What’s the matter?” White Lightning called.  “Not got the stomach for a fight now?”
Perhaps the robots didn’t care, perhaps they did.  There was no way to know, but a second later the group came at them full speed ahead.
”And….. now!” White Lightning Cried.

For just a moment space become charged with energy as the bright flash of massive lightning joined the simmering mystery of cosmic power and the two forms of force surged between the combatants.  The explosive was truly impressive, sending chunks of metal, bolts and loose steel parts in every direction.  When the attack was done the six robots were no more, reduced in a single instant to component parts by the power of the joint assault.  “Now that,” crackled White Lightings voice, “Was fun!”
”That it was,” Nebula agreed, “But let’s not get cocky.  There are more robots where they came from.”

Solarwind was furious.  All the other heroes were stealing the limelight.  It seemed their powers were greater than he had anticipated because they were all beating the crap out of the enemy without even breaking a sweat.  Solarwind knew he had to make his mark and soon.  It was important that he stood out above and beyond the others. That the world saw him and knew him for the legend that he was.  Drawing in his cosmic and dimensional energy, Solarwind let the currents of the void carry him into the center of a cluster of robots.  He gathered his strength ready to release his power and obliterate them all.  It would be startling.  It would be spectacular.  It would be awesome.

Got-Gal was enjoying herself immensely scragging alien robots and cutting loose in a way she never could on Earth.  But there was a worry playing at the back of her mind that threatened to spoil all the fun.  She couldn’t shake the feeling that something must be controlling these robots.  But where?
”Listen,” Came Pendragon’s voice over the intercom.  “We need to know exactly what we are up against, here.”
“Not knowing doesn’t seem to be doing us any harm,” White Lightning said as another electrical bolt shredded a giant robot in short order.
”Something is wrong,” Pendragon insisted.  “I’m sure of it.”
“This is fun,” Iron Maiden laughed.  “Almost as good as sex…almost.  But Pendragon is right.  This seems much easier than we’d thought.  Almost too easy.”

UltraDoll was busy crushing robots by floating at them feet first and then kicking with her cybernetic legs.  The power of those two-footed attacks had already crushed several robots and sent two others spinning off into space on a very long journey to nowhere.  Nebula and X-Ray Man floated into view, the former looking grim and determined, the latter surrounded by the dull green glow of radiation, making him eery and surreal in the darkness of space.  “The robots are falling back.  Is everyone here?” X-Ray Man asked.
“I think so,” Got-Gal said.
“Hang on,” Pendragon muttered, “Where’s our full-of-himself leader?”

The radio frequency was cut by a horrible scream.  It blasted through the intercom and into their ears, a mixture of terror and agony.  For a moment they were confused, but then the heroes looked to a large cluster of robots some distance away.  Upon their inspection the robot group came apart revealing Solarwind in the center.  He was just a torso now.  His arms and legs had been torn off and were floating free in space.  He was still alive.  Still screaming.  Though the blood was being sucked out of his terrible wounds by the power of the vacuum.  He would be dead in seconds, and thankfully so.  There was something different about those six robots.  Their metal had a golden sheen.  They moved more intelligently, more dangerously.  They seemed to be working together in a strategic way.  “These others were a diversion,” Nebula said.  “But why?”
X-Ray Man provided the answer: “To pick off Solarwind.  He really was the most powerful of us.  They wanted him out of the way first.”
”He was an arse,” Pendragon told them,  “But he was one of us and a hero.  We need to teach these robots, golden or not, what happens to hero-killers.”
The others nodded their angry agreement and flew as a unit towards the golden robots.