For thousands of years under the regime of the priesthood, sexual relations have been discouraged among the populace of Lemuria, as an act that resulted in horrendous mutations, further destabilizing their DNA patterns. Regardless, reproduction has continued, with the offspring often abandoned by both parents to the streets, to meet its fate alone. On the streets of Lemuria, one must either become a wolf, or a rat. Wolves prey upon others, thrive, and become stronger. Rats live in squalor, fight each other for food, and die young.

On rare occasions, a rat might ascend to greater things in its society, should it possess a unique potential, and know the right person. Warlord Kro, a Deviant who had witnessed the highest and lowest of his civilization's peaks, was one such person, and he once had the occasion to meet a most remarkable rat. This rat fancied itself a thinker, an artist, and an actor. It also possessed a gift rarely found among its kind-- mirth. The evening Kro saw the rat impersonate him before a crowd for hilarious effect, he knew this rat must be protected and cherished.

He named the rat "Krona" (meaning "of Kro"), for the rat had no name of its own, and brought him to the City of Toads. Krona would now play before Brother Tode himself, impressing all not only with his wit, but at the remarkable physical resemblance he bore to his benefactor. Aside from his slimmer build and darker skin, Krona was in every way the splitting image of his master-- leading some to speculate the Warlord had more personal reasons for adopting a rat.

With the fall of the House of Toads, Krona became anxious to preserve his life, having not the resolve to take up arms against the priesthood as the other allies of his master did. Kro therefore found his rat a new home, upon the surface world. In a strange land called "Italy", virtually at the feet of the Eternals, Krona melted into the world of the humans, and broke off contact with Lemuria, having finally found a society that respected him. For years now, Krona had avoided discovery by both Deviant and Eternal.

Today, his cover was broken.

The doorbell rang sharply as Krona hurried to his front door, wondering who had awakened him so early in the morning. The postman, perhaps. Yes, he probably had the package from his literary agent he had been expecting. Without thinking of checking his peephole, Krona opened the door. Time among humans had made him soft.

Before him stood four figures, distinct in their sameness. Each man had the same light skin tone, dark hair, medium build, and dark sunglasses. All that divided them was their suits, each with a different color. One wore light brown, another light gray, a third dark green, and the last light green. The light green man was evidently the leader, for the others made no attempt to speak for themselves.

"Good morning, Mr. Krona." said the light green man, in perfect Italian.

"Good morning." Krona replied, a little trepidatiously. "May I help you?"

"I am a messenger. I have come a long way to deliver a message to you." the light green man answered.

"Oh? What is your message?" Krona asked, trying not to look nervous.

"It is from a place far from here," the light green man continued, as though he had not heard Krona's response, "from deep in the Pacific Ocean."

Krona understood his meaning, but feigned ignorance. "I-I am sorry, I do not understand..."

The light green man removed his sunglasses, and looked unflinchingly into Krona's eyes. "It concerns a distant...cousin, you might say."

Krona knew those eyes! He saw no use in further dallying, and allowed the four men to enter his home. As he led them into his sitting room, his mind raced-- where was the Disintigrator Pistol? Bottom of the umbrella stand, he could never reach it. How had they found him? Kro had promised he would be safe...

"You and I have not spoken in some time." the light green man remarked. His three men had sat down, but still maintained a rigid, inflexible air about them.

"I suppose we haven't." Krona replied. "We have traveled in different circles, no doubt."

"As different as the rat from the wolf." the light green man said. His mind seemed to wander for a moment. Then he spoke again: "You remember my uncle, of course."

To Krona, it was as though the holographic illusion surrounding the figure had dropped, revealing him in all his warped glory. "A more reprehensible man there had never been, unless he were a priest...or your father."

Red flashed into the eyes of the light green man, but it soon disappeared. "You tempt so much." he remarked, almost jovially.

"I have precious little to lose, save my life."

"Ah, but you possess something which I do not-- something I would most graciously ask that you loan me."

"Oh? I was raised to believe that toads were raised to want for nothing. What do you desire?"

"An ear."

"You appear to possess two of your own."

"The ear of your...benefactor."

"My 'benefactor' would not wish to speak with you."

"Of that, I have no doubt. I only request that you relay to him a message."

"I possess neither the desire, nor the idiocy to aid you, Tannor."

If Tannor reacted at all to this mention of his name, he did not display it visually. "I can offer you something valuable in return." he nodded his head to the man in dark green, who rose to his feet, removing a small object from his coat.

"This is a Deviatron," said the dark green man. "it is how we found you."

"I was not aware the Empire had technology so advanced--!" Krona started.

"It is not ours." Tannor replied. "The Eternals crafted it. An intelligence operation brought it to the Deviant military."

"I can re-adjust your masking technology to hide it from the Deviatron's sensors." said the dark green man.

"If you do as I ask, that is." Tannor quickly added.

Krona thought over all of this carefully. "What is your message?" he asked.

"You will not relay it until...4:00 PM?"

"4:00 PM." the dark green man assured him.

"4:00 PM. Not one minute before."

"And it is?" Krona asked, impatiently.

"'The blood of toads has done this. Do not pit blood against blood.'"

"It makes no sense to me." Krona remarked.

"That is the other reason why we chose you." Tannor answered.

In a Deviant Raiding Vessel flying high above the Pacific Ocean, Tannor's second finally found the occasion to remark upon what had transpired in Italy. His name was Rayven-- a Deviant coated in dark gray feathers like those of a bird, though he could not fly himself, and he had known Tannor for many years.

"Not only did your course take us in the opposite direction of our quarry," Rayven complained, "but you've as good as leaked our entire mission to that Eternal-loving Kro!"

Tannor, who had been sharpening his teeth, paused to reply: "I do not see how."

"Krona won't wait until 4:00 PM. He'll call Kro once he's certain we aren't monitoring him."

Tannor took the knife he had been using on his teeth and threw it into the floor, leaving it stand straight up. "Let him."

"Kro is smarter than you give him credit." Rayven warned.

Tannor snorted. "Oh, I do beg your pardon, master Rayven. Remind poor Captain Tannor which of us spent two decades learning at Kro's feet, and which of us spent that time AWOL in Subterranea?" Rayven sullenly turned his head away, just as Tannor rapped him in the back of his skull. "You take life too seriously, Rayven." Tannor chided him.

"I'm not the one the priesthood would just as soon kill as look at me. In the name of Tiamut, why are you doing this?" Rayven demanded.

Tannor did not address him, but looked to Snake Hound, the dark green Deviant in the pilot's seat. "Estimated time to arrival, 'Hound?"

"Precisely 9 minutes and 13 seconds." Snake Hound responded, not looking away from the controls. Although he was a gifted engineer, Snake Hound's canine-shaped form made movement difficult at times.

Rayven looked behind him to see the fourth member of their party, Shell, sitting quiet and motionless in its seat. "I've known unusual mutates," he remarked, "but this one takes all. It only speaks when you address it."

Tannor shot a brief glance at Shell. "You'll be glad I brought it in a few minutes. What it lacks in brains, it recompenses in might. Don't fidget so much, Rayven-- you'll be gray before your time."

Rayven took the slight insult, and turned his thoughts to the battle ahead.

The elevator came to rest on the tenth floor, and Professor Colin Hugo stepped out with Alex and Melissa Damian. As they walked down the hallway, Hugo took note of the twins' trenchcoats and grinned. "You look like a couple of private eyes." he remarked.

"Good. It'll only help us when we pump Sersi for information." Alex replied.

"Just remember, she's a super-hero of some kind, and a magician. She gets off on attention, so don't make a scene, no matter what she does." Hugo reminded them.

They nodded, just as the trio arrived at the Loft. Hugo pressed the doorbell, and heard the sound of a violin accompany the action. (clearly a novelty bell) The door swung open (of it's own volition? no, that would be silly), and they stepped inside. At the far end of the Loft, on the balcony, they could hear music playing softly. A voice which possessed a musical quality of its own called to them from there: "On the balcony! Please leave your hats and problems at the door!"

Professor Hugo strode forth confidently, with the two Damians behind him. Arriving at the balcony, they came upon Sylvia Sersi, conducting an invisible orchestra. (piped in by the CD player no doubt) Just as they came into sight, she lowered her baton, and the music halted, abruptly.

"The party doesn't begin for another seven hours, I'm afraid." she said, not turning to face them.

"Actually, Ms. Sersi, I'm here to see a friend of yours-- Dr. Samuel Holden?" Professor Hugo declared.

"Library. Fifth from your left."

"Thank you." he took a slight bow, then departed, motioning the Damians to Sersi with his eyes.

Alex and Melissa both felt somewhat uncomfortable standing on the balcony with a near-naked woman whose back was turned to them. Each of them struggled to find the appropriate words to open communication, but Ms. Sersi beat them to it: "You two look a little cold. Perhaps we should step inside?" she said. It seemed strange, given that she was the one in a swimsuit, and couldn't even see them from where she stood, but they assented. As she turned around, her beauty, despite having seen pictures of her before, astonished Alex. He wanted to drop a corny pick-up such as, "Your pictures do you little justice", but thought better of it.

The twins sat down upon a sofa, while their host lounged across from them upon a divan.

Melissa cleared her throat. "Ms. Sersi--" she began.

"Yes, Melissa, what is this burning issue you and your brother Alex wish to discuss with me?" Sersi inquired, interrupting.

She knew their names somehow...how disconcerting. "Since you know who we are, Ms. Sersi--" Alex started.

"Yes, we might as well cut to the chase, mightn't we?" Sersi again interrupted.

"Ms. Sersi, our cousin was Margo Damian, and we were wondering if you could tell us a little about her." Melissa said, proud to complete a full sentence.

"Well, she was your cousin, I should think you would know her better than I. Weren't you a close family?"

"We mean in regards to her death." Alex responded.

"Well, I wasn't there, of course. Yes, she drowned in the ocean, never found."

"Are you certain that was all--" Melissa started.

Sersi suddenly cut them off, and arose from the divan. "Pardon. Telephone." They hadn't heard any phone ring. Ms. Sersi stepped in front of a painting of Elvis, and began to converse with it. "Yes? Well, I should think so! And it is? Heavens, I've already scheduled at least a dozen parties, you could hardly expect me to abandon my guests. Well, what about Sprite? Yes, I think that will work out fine." then she returned to the divan, apparently still talking to herself. "That Ikaris..." she seemed to muse.

Alex tried to roll with the punches. "Yes, about Ike Harris-- he was present with Margo, and with our uncle Dan when they died. In fact, I understand you were also present when uncle Dan died."

"Yes, another dark tragedy-- pillar fell on him."

"Again, no body." said Melissa.

A smile crossed Ms. Sersi's lips. "I believe I understand the true purpose of this little visit. You're interested the black arts, aren't you? Necromancy?"

Alex was appalled. "Most definitely not!"

"Well, do let me know should you ever need a body. Every body needs some body some time."

Melissa scowled. "How can you say such horrible things?"

Ms. Sersi waved her hand playfully. "My dear, I could write a book on 'horrible' and that wouldn't even make it into the appendix!"

Alex nearly bit his tongue. "Could you please be more helpful, Ms. Sersi? This is a delicate topic for the two of us."

"Well, you'll beg my pardon I'm sure if I don't share in this egg-like sensitivity? Death comes to us all, my good twins."

"Ms. Sersi-- allow me to place all our cards on the table." said Melissa.

"Oh, please do. We can play baccarat later."

"We suspect that our uncle and cousin succumbed to-- foul play." said Alex.

"They succumbed to isolated cases of drowning and crushing." Ms. Sersi maintained. "I'll never understand this fascination of yours, to look for duplicity behind every corner."

"We never accused Mr. Harris of killing them." Melissa reminded her.

"I can see that one of us is speaking to a stone wall, so allow me to make this plain: Ikaris did not have your relatives killed. It was nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence that he was present in both instances. He may be a block-headed, stone-faced clod, but he is not a murderer. Well, not of humans, anyway. Defenseless humans."

"You'll forgive me if I don't believe you." said Alex.

"My, isn't that presumptuous, to assume my forgiveness is so easily granted?"

"Ms. Sersi--" Melissa started.

"I forgive you." said Ms. Sersi.

Reunited in the hallway, the trio compared notes on what they had learnt. Professor Hugo had spoken to Dr. Holden, and convinced him that they should return to Peru, and attempt to recover Dr. Damian's body. He asked the twins if they had learnt anything important from Sylvia Sersi.

"Did Dr. Holden take psychiatry?" Melissa asked.

"No, I don't believe so." Professor Hugo replied.

"Well, she should certainly be committed." Alex remarked.

In the manor home of William Amos, located outside New York, the organization known as the Underground Legion has made their base. Comprised of both humans and Deviants dedicated to thwarting the forces of Lyonesse, and working in conjunction with American authorities, they had only recently achieved their greatest victory in the seeming destruction of Lord Tantalus, at the hands of his own son Lucian.

But victory remains fleeting...

Wildwind's mind was distracted as she went to answer the door. During the final battle with Tantalus, she had learnt she was not, as she had assumed, a super-powered human, but an artificial lifeform, built by Dr. Oliver Broadhurst. Conflicted over her own identity, she wished Mammoth could be with her...but it wasn't possible just now.

In the doorway stood four men, each garbed in a different color of suit.

"What do you want?" Wildwind asked.

The man in dark green produced a small cylinder from his pocket. "You." he answered. Suddenly, the object fired a tiny mechanical device at Wildwind, striking her in the head! In pain, she lashed out with her powers, generating a storm that lifted all four men into the air!

"The brain mine was ineffective!" Snake Hound yelled.

"You think?" Rayven replied.

"EMP, now!" Tannor boomed.

Snake Hound drew forth a new device, and pressed a button. Wildwind suddenly doubled over, collapsing onto the floor-- and taking the four of them with her!

As Tannor regained his composure, he turned on Snake Hound: "I told you to use the EMP on the android!" he growled.

"Sorry, Captain. They all look alike--"

"Initiate Plan B!" Tannor commanded. "Move out and find your targets!" he drew a small energy pistol, and ran up a nearby staircase. The other three paused only briefly before setting after him.

Tannor climbed two floors before catching sight of his quarry. She was standing on the fourth floor near the railing, apparently on her way down. He recognized her as Sparrow, a mutant. He fired his pistol, but she dodged, and returned fire. Tannor threw himself back against the wall, and dropped to his knees. She had to be taken down quickly. Reaching behind his back, he drew his Z-Ray, then rolled to the edge of the railing, and fired a blast straight into the air!

The powerful energy discharge tore through the ceiling above the stairwell, and out the roof, causing debris to rain down upon Tannor. He shook it off, and ran over the fallen slabs of wood and plaster, ready to continue the fight-- but found that Sparrow was already unconscious, struck down by the debris. Without missing a heartbeat, he produced a needle, and shot her with a powerful sedative, then continued on his way to find his second target.

One floor down, Shell found itself facing a lithe, female figure-- the half-Deviant Lady Trident. Slow and lumbering, Shell was unable to evade her powerful throwing trident, which stuck into the middle of its chest, spreading the Black Legacy of her former master Lord Tantalus into it. But Shell made no sign of pain as it removed the trident from what was now a gaping hole in its chest. Lady Trident was truly startled by this-- in all her life, she had never seen a being so powerful that it could fight the Black Legacy itself! And as she hesitated, Shell moved closer...

Circling to the other side of the staircase, Rayven followed his Deviatron's sensors to one of the bedrooms. It was surely the dwelling place of Mammoth, his designated target. As Mammoth was superhumanly strong, Rayven knew he would have to strike hard and fast to succeed. He flew open the door...

...And fell into a barren, snowy wasteland. A gray sky was above him. He was back in Siberia, back at the scene of his desertion nearly twenty years ago. He turned around, praying he would find an exit, but instead came face to face with General Krun.

"Back to your position, Corporal!" the general ordered. Rayven just stood there, unable to form words. "Did you hear me?" the general asked. "No wonder you were turned down for field service for three years! You haven't got the determination to be a soldier! We don't need you to help take Polaria! Why don't you run off to Subterranea and live with the Moloids? Do you like the smell of worms?"

Rayven crumpled up and fell to the ground. "It's not real. It's not real." he repeated to himself. But the rushes of cold air made him think otherwise. He needed a fire. He took out his gun, hoping to use its powerpack to ignite a blaze...but he didn't have kindling! Angrily, he fired his pistol into the air...

...And suddenly the cold was gone. Rayven was sitting before a ragged figure, sprawled on the ground. He recognized her as Schitzo, another target. A laser blast had cut through her stomach-- it took Rayven a moment to realize it was from him.

Before he could take in any more information, he felt a pain in his left arm as blood spewed forth! Another target-- the human-like Touchstone-- had appeared. Dimly, Rayven recalled she was Schitzo's sister, and would take exception to him assaulting her. Rayven attempted to fight back, but with his right hand covering up the wound her razor-sharp fingers had cut into his left arm, he had difficulty matching her quick, sharp moves.

Just then, the situation was taken entirely out of his control; powerful hands took hold of Touchstone, and immobilized her. It was Shell.

Rayven wiped the sweat from his brow. "Stupid Mutate. I had it under control."

Shell made no response.

On the basement level, Snake Hound made his way to the laboratory, where he presumed he would find his target-- Dr. Oliver Broadhurst. He didn't anticipate much resistance, although he understood Broadhurst had an alien robot under his control. Opening the doors, he was surprised to find the lights off. To a Deviant who had lived in the tunnels of Lemuria all his life, it was surely a weak tactical advantage. Still, not wanting to run any risks, 'Hound drew out his EMP device-- just as a massive figure crushed it in his hands! Before he could react, the figure kicked him, hurling him across the lab! He struck the wall, and slid to the floor, bleeding internally. This alien robot was clearly more dangerous than the briefings had indicated! Without the EMP, he had no weapon capable of damaging it-- if only he had been the one carrying the Z-Ray!

He listened breathlessly for the sound of the robot's footsteps, but heard nothing...wait, a sudden movement! Too clumsy for a machine... 'Hound smelt the air. There were humans in the lab! Humans, he could deal with! He grabbed a gas grenade, and hurled it in the direction of the noise! As he donned his gas mask, he heard the crumple of bodies striking the floor. But he had little time to appreciate his cleverness-- the robot was upon him again! Panicking, 'Hound ran for the nearest wall, climbed straight up, across the ceiling, and down to the other side of the lab. He could outrace the robot any day, but could he defeat it? He could always call the others for assistance...but after years of squalor in Lemuria, praying for the opportunity to prove himself a true Deviant, he was reluctant to admit the futility of his attack.

He had a plan. First, he turned the lights back on. Now he could see the robot fully, and recognized it as a Kree Sentry. He also caught sight of the two humans he had KOed, Dr. Oliver Broadhurst himself, and Dr. Caitlin Maddox. The robot was moving towards him in pursuit, but he was prepared. He waited until it was nearly within arm's reach, then flew upon its back, laser torch in hand! Before it could reach him, he struck it in the eye with the torch! As he had hoped, its circuitry was vulnerable there, and he flung himself free without injury. Then, he armed himself with his pistol, waited for the Sentry to turn around...and blasted it in the head.

Minutes later, the four Deviants met together in the laboratory for a quick appraisal of their actions.

"Final tally, 'Hound?" Tannor asked.

"Two humans, one mutant, two artificial life-forms, two Deviants, and one corpse."

Tannor looked sharply at Rayven as Snake Hound finished. Rayven looked away, ashamed. "What about the other two targets?" Tannor asked. "We found nothing of targets Mammoth and Blackwulf."

"I made a brief sweep of their database, and believe I have the answers;" 'Hound explained. "According to logs, Mammoth departed two days ago for Olympia, apparently with the intention of forming an alliance."

"Oh, that's just great." Rayven pouted.

"Blackwulf?" Tannor asked, ummoved.

"I found the answer in a videotape log. It seems he...well, you had better see this for yourself." Snake Hound took up the videocassette and placed it in a VCR.

The tape depicted Blackwulf, his skin still ebon black from absorbing his father's Black Legacy, lying upon a sofa, his Shadowlance nearby. Suddenly, a golden figure emerged from the Shadowlance, and began to converse with him.

"Audio?" Tannor asked.

'Hound touched the volume controls. "--masters have determined that while you have completed the task we begun," the gold figure was saying, "your absorption of the Black Legacy places this entire planet at risk."

"My father is dead!" Blackwulf replied. "I want nothing to do with his legacy!"

"Irrelevant. The Celestials cannot permit you to continue your father's Holy War. It is their solution that you be placed in the Desecration Annex-- for all eternity."

Tannor stared at the image. "Is there a jump in the film, 'Hound?" he asked.

"No, captain. They both vanished."

Rayven was on the verge of a breakdown. "The Eternals and the Space Gods! Any chance that we might be interfering with the Avengers, High Evolutionary, and Galactus as well?"

Tannor ignored him. "We're two minutes behind schedule. 'Hound, Shell, I want those explosives planted now. We're out of here within four minutes, no excuses."

While Snake Hound and Shell unpacked the explosives, Tannor motioned for Rayven to follow him back to their craft. Once they were out of sight, Tannor struck him in the face, tearing out a clump of feathers. "You may be my best friend, Rayven, but when you're within sight of my troops, you will demonstrate professionalism!"

Rayven rubbed the wound. "So we are friends, then? I wasn't sure, being in the dark on this mission. For one last time, in the name of the House of Toads, why are you helping the priesthood? What did they offer you? Warlord?"

Tannor continued walking. "Brotherhood."

"Pardon?"

"They offered me the throne."

"Then...Kro really is out?"

"For a long time now."

"You're insane, Tannor. Either Ghaur will kill you within a year, or he'll wind you around his finger. How can you be so gullible?"

"I'm not gullible, Rayven. I'm an optimist."