Patsy Walker lay dead.

That much Valkyrie was sure of.

What she wasn't sure about was just how she would get Dragonfang's hilt unstuck from the ribcage of the man who appeared to have killed her. A man who had been hiding from view by unknown means, a man somehow connected with the Moonguard.

She caught Moonstone's eye. There was a hesitation. Moonstone wanted to lie. She wanted to be shocked that the man had been there. In fact, she seemed to be fairly taken aback at his presence, and at what he had done. But it was just as clear that she knew who he was. Moonstone hesitated before speaking... and thus lost the edge.

Gargoyle went into an immediate dive bomb toward the man, his claws glowing with an unearthly light against the night sky. The energy leapt from his hands and connected with the man's armored chest. He didn't budge.

Kyle Richmond looked around frantically between his old team and the new. He looked down at the body of his teammate on both, one of his dearest friends, the former Hellcat. He watched as Valkyrie howled in the night... her features transforming into something dark, something primal and dangerous.

Fire burned in her eyes. Fire and hate.

She lunged out at Maximus the Mad, watching him dodge her first blow, and parried her second with his own armored arm. She danced left, when his body followed suit, she jabbed right, straight into his chest. She pushed her weight behind it. "Odin help me" she muttered as she gave the final push. If by intervention or chance, it pushed clean through. Her hilt was rested tightly against his chest. His smile grew more frantic. His laughter echoed as it turned into gurgled gasps.

"Preserve me" he begged the night sky.

But the night, if it answered, did so only in silent riddles. He stared down at his chest, then up at Asgardian Goddess. Her expression had not changed. Her eyes burned with hate. She flicked her wrist, twisting her blade inside him. He screamed, but did not fall.

"Let him go Val" Gargoyle asked of her, a pleading in his voice. He kept a careful eye on the Moonguard, who stayed perfectly still, as if fearing that any motion would grant them the same fate.

Cecilia Reyes looked on in the same sort of shock. Maximus continued to stand in front of Valkyrie, in spite of it all, he continued to stand. She momentarily wondered what sort of creature the Inhuman tyrant was, about how he could possibly stay upright. Until the truth hit her. He wasn't standing anymore. The goddess' grip on the blade was the only thing keeping him in that state.

"Let him go" the voice said from the darkness. Everyone turned but Isaac Christian, who mimed looking at a nonexistent watch.

"Took your own sweet time," he muttered.

She cast him a look of disdain. "Perhaps I am worth waiting for."

The Choser of the Slain took a glance back at the voice, the flame that burned within daring for the interloper to speak again.

It did.

"Put him down" Moondragon repeated, this time backing up her words with a mental assault.

Valkyrie flinched, nearly losing the grip on her sword in the process. Maximus continued to gurgle out incoherent pleas and clumps of blood. "I'm not the enemy here" she managed to grunt out, as she twisted her blade until she heard the snapping of bones.

Moonstone watched in horror. She didn't move her lips, but she prayed nonetheless.

"Dragons preserve him" she muttered for the man who had done her will, at least until his unexplained appearance. He hadn't been scheduled to meet up with them until later with the new Moontiger. Now, she was dead at his own hand. And he was... well, indisposed.

(He shall be dealt with) the voice in her head reassured her.(His time is yet to come) it told her, followed by a (You must leave).

She looked over to her companions. They were all back in commission: Nekra her Moondancer, Grim Reaper her Moonscythe, and Nighthawk her Moonglider. Only Patsy Walker lay still on the ground. As she looked over the others, she nodded to herself in satisfaction, it wasn't as if she couldn't be brought back to serve the will of the Dragons... after all...

She gave them the hand signal to ready for departure, and watched for her opportunity to present itself. Meanwhile, she shifted in place, hoping no one would have cause to bring the attention back to her group. Valkryie's rage was drawing away a fair amount of it, but Northstar especially was keeping a careful eye in her direction. What was worse, the former Nighthawk was staring at the spectacle before them with the same sort of interest - the interest of someone who, somewhere in his cold dead heart, was still part of

MV1 #189 January Year 4

Central Park

Hannibal King looked down at his arm. It was starting to smoke. Pretty soon, his entire body would be following suit... pretty soon he would be...

A shadow fell across him, blocking out the first hints of the coming of the day. He felt the shadow move across him, almost slithering. He looked up to see its owner, but was greeted by a view of the coming sun. The shadow stayed on him though, searching out his private places and nesting for a moment before moving on. After leaving no part of his body untouched, it slid off of him and back through the force field. It lay on the ground just outside for a moment, as if waiting. Then, it grew upward.

The shadow took on three dimensional form and purpose as it grew, becoming a man. A pitch black, featureless man - but a man without any doubt.

"Who are you?" Hannibal asked.

But the man said nothing aloud. He merely whispered things into the vampire Defender's soul, things that crept there and stayed, and nested, and bore out their young, living lifetimes in moments. He whispered things about despair, and of undying hatred. He whispered out the hopelessness of it all - and of the coming destruction.

The sun seemed to glow from where the man's eyes should have been. The heat seemed to come from where there were no lips.

Then the man spoke of an offer. Of a deal. And reached out his hand.

Hannibal King looked up at the coming sun, and at the hand outreached for him... and passed through the barrier that trapped him by selling the only thing he really had left to give.

The dark man hand's passed through the barrier as if it no longer existed. They picked up the vampire and deposited him outside of what had been his cage. And, then, the dark man vanished without a trace.

Hannibal King looked around for a moment, wondering what had just actually happened...wondering what devil he had just dealt with. He wondered if the barrier itself had been real and reached forward. His hand touched the smooth surface of something his eyes told him should not be there. Something that had almost killed him. Something... that might have done far worse.

He stared up at the sky and wondered, if only for a moment, if he should just lie down and let it take him. Let him die before things got worse.. but then instinct took over and he started to run. He ran for the darkness, ran for his undead survival for the places that would comfort him. Instinct had taken over, he reminded himself later, an instinct to survive - no matter the cost.

SoHo

"So, how long are we going to be waiting here anyway?" Timeslip asked, a bit impatiently. She had felt the tug on her bloodstream from Polaris - but had ignored it.. After all, she justified, grinning at the baby in the bundle... a bundle she wanted to have in her arms... perhaps one day she and Jean-Paul would...

"No," the woman whom she waited with said. "It's not going to happen."

"What are you talking about!?" Rina gasped, knowing full well that her thoughts had either been invaded or shown too well on her face.

"He's... not your type. You might want to consider looking at other... more, um, men more your type."

"But Jean-Paul is so..."

Before her companion could interrupt her with the word "gay", their discussion was called off. A man in a metal mask emerged from a tube of light that had opened up in the middle of the street.

Rina looked around, and realized something... there were no cars, no people... in the middle of New York City... and in it was quiet. She didn't think "too quiet" - she had seen too many scary movies to ever qualify that way - but it was. She looked to her companion for an explanation, but saw her already approaching the metal faced man.

"I told you before - you can't have him," the woman was saying.

The man laughed. "You forget yourself. You can neither give or deny me what is mine. The time is coming - it had already come. It will come again. I must have him. I will have him. I already possess him. There is no stopping what is to be."

Rina focused her eyes, trying to place the voice - trying to remember where she had seen the man's mask before - and his funky armor... somewhere in the New Warriors archives... somewhere in their shared Avengers files... He wassomeone... someone important - she felt it in her bones. But she couldn't place who.

She stayed quiet and out of the way - doing what she had been told - listening to the argument that ensued. But her mind was elsewhere. She opened herself up to the city, a little at first, then a bit more - looking for the past - looking for her answer.

The door slammed shut on her as quickly as it opened. The man stared past the woman in front of him - he stared right at where Rina was standing. "YOU!" he exclaimed, glancing back to the one to whom he had been speaking. "How can you allow her here?"

Timeslip took a step forward before she could stop herself. Her words took on a life of their own, drawing strength, it seemed, from the moment. "I'm here to make sure you don't get this baby. It's not yours to take - and I won't stand by and just let it happen."

The man took a step backward, looking again to the one he thought to be his opponent. "I will claim him despite your tricks - I will..."

The woman looked back toward Rina with a bit of a smile escaping from her hooded features. "You will do nothing - unless of course you wish to harm her in the process. Which, unless I'm very much mistaken, is what you'd have to do to get the boy." Rina nodded in all the right places.

The man looked as if he were going forward despite his better judgment. But, for whatever reasons he had, he stopped and hung his head for the briefest of moments. "We will meet soon enough" he said to the baby, who's smile had long vanished, "And destiny will be done."

"Over by dead body," the woman stated matter-of-factly.

The man stopped his progress back toward the open portal of light. He turned back around with an awful smile, a smile that seemed to twist itself through the metal itself. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Elsewhen

A wizened man sits on his throne and ponders. Somehow, some when... the Spider... He spreads out his mind throughout his kingdom, smashing everything that reminds him... everything that causes him pain.

Somehow... some when...

But his vow held him. He was the mightiest sorcerer of his age - but he was bound by his own word*. Bound...

(* As detailed in the classic Defenders #183 - GD, who's just glad it didn't HAPPEN to be an issue sooner*g*)

"But not tied," a voice reassured him. He looked around, but there was no one...

There. There they were, not on the physical, but the spirit world. A world beyond time and matter. He reached across to hear them out.

"What is it that you mean?" He asked the largest of them, a red creature that evil seemed to glow off of.

"Your word is your bond," the creature spat in disgust. "You cannot touch the Spider. Directly or indirectly."

"But," the man in green with the devilish smile interjected, "she never said anything the others... did she?"

The mightiest mage of his time lost himself back in thought. "Would that not be harming him indirectly?" he asked.

The woman, also in green, who gave him more chills than the others shook her head. "Harming her would be indirect. On the other hand – the Defenders helped him... they were the ones responsible for your defeat. You have no responsibility - no vow, not to harm them in any and every way possible."

A smile escaped from his lips for the first time in what seemed eons. A nasty, evil, twisted smile that lingered on his thin pale lips for a very long time.

United Nations

Hydroman watched from offshore, careful never to let his head form above the water line. Somewhere, up there, were his teammates... not really teammates but at least fellow employees. Somewhere also up there was some major league scuffle that seemed to begin after his people had been pretty much been taken out of the game.

He glanced at the trademarked "shiny poles" that marked the street in front of the UN. Sure enough, Basilisk was still there, pinned to the St. Vincent and the Grenadines yellow, blue and green emblem. Hydroman chuckled for a moment, shaking his head. His fellow Cartel member wasn't moving, but then again WHY would he? After all - he was stuck on a ... he looked again, checking the rest of the poles. Sure enough... he looked one more time to make sure.

All the rest of them were topped with round balls. Not spikes. All but this one. It was as though someone... or something had changed the very structure and function of the flag topper for that purpose. He shook his head, trying to remember everyone he had seen, everyone he had encountered during their two fights... but no one fit the bill. He did his best to see what was going on on the shore... to see who had entered the fray... But in the end, he figured, it wasn't worth it anymore.

If the Boss wanted to find him... he would. There was nothing to be done about it... nothing to spread himself as thin as possible while staying coherent, let the currents take him - and hope for the best.

The Mansion of Janet Van Dyne

She knocked on the door. Several times. Then rang the doorbell.

But no one was home. Not the mistress of the house. Nor her servants. Nor the Defenders. All the blinds were closed up tight. All the doors and windows appeared to be sealed. It was empty, desolate. It was - perfect.

The door swung open at her gesture. There was still much to do before her hosts returned home. There was still so much...

"I guess no one taught you that it's impolite to enter without permission." a husky male voice said from the couch.

She took a step backward in shock, before taking one forward in curiosity. "In that I suppose we had the same teacher."

Hannibal King leaned forward from where he was sitting. "I doubt it." he said, "*I* have permission to enter. I truly doubt that you do."

The woman smiled and dropped her coat from around her shoulders. It fell hard to the ground revealing a blood red skin tight leather jumper and not much else. "Oh, but I do" She grinned, "I claim passage by right of my brother. By his right I claim Sanctuary."

United Nations

"We've got to end this Mexican stand-off" Janet Van Dyne, the Wondrous Wasp whispered to Cecilia Reyes. "Pretty soon people are going to start coming into work here - tourists are going to start showing up. It's a wonder the police haven't already stumbled on our little lovefest here and tried to get to the bottom of things."

Cecilia shook her head. "We're one step ahead of you on that." Sometimes, she thought, it paid to be an X-Man with connections on the Manhattan force. "They know where we are - courtesy of Heather" she nodded to Moondragon, still locked in a duel of wills with the leader of the Odin's handmaidens. "And what's going on. Once it's safe to come in, they'll do so."

"I don't suppose they'll like it much to see someone stuck to the top of a flagpole - and someone else with a major league sword being yanked around his insides." The Wasp commented, "Any plans on dealing with that?" she snapped." We need to get a handle on this situation before it gets any worse."

Cecilia looked her in the eyes and nodded. "Agreed" she said and started off toward the fray.

"But ..." Janet screamed after her. "We need a plan of action."

Beside her, Isaac smiled and placed his hand on her shoulder, "I think she just found one." he said, "Either that - or she just wants to go stab someone too."

She found a smile spread to her face in spite of everything. Then she looked back over to where Maximus was still being held up by the edge of a blade and she shuddered. "You're a strange, strange man Isaac Christian."

He forced a smile and looked back to where his teammates were, "Sometimes you have to be,” he said, before motioning her forward. "Let's go see if we can salvage anything from this."

Moonstone glanced over to her own team and nodded. A blanket of light consumed them, transporting them far away from the fray.

Northstar turned back from watching his teammates just in time to see the face of Kyle Richmond, the once Nighthawk, as he vanished into the light, and the hand signal.

They locked eyes, two goddesses, struggling to exercise their own will. The sweet was pouring off the bald brow of Moondragon. She pushed with all her might, trying to find a weak spot. But the rage within Brunnhilde the Valkyrie refused to budge. She continued to hold the bleeding, twitching Inhuman like a trophy, impaled on her blade, refusing to allow him to pass, refusing to allow the murderer of her best friend in the worlds to have a moment of peace.

Valkryie tensed herself for another volley of mental attacks, and found herself being hit hard from behind as a consequence.

Her personal bioshield sprang to life as Cecilia Reyes lunged toward her target. She knew that, no matter what else, she was going to need it. Either to protect her from the impact - or worse.

She hit Brunnhilde hard in the back, knocking her off balance, and finding herself draped over the fallen Asgardian goddess on the ground.

Her sword fell out of her grasp, but did not fall. Maximus somehow found the strength to yet stand, and the hilt projected out of his chest, while much of the rest of it could be clearly seen from the back.

Somehow, he found the strength to laugh. Then he looked to the morning sky and whispered a word of prayer, and found it granted.

Northstar tried to move, but found his feet unable to do so. He frantically looked around and saw his companions in the same state. Maximus was laughing at all of them, and playing with the sword hilt, knocking it back and forth, tearing apart his own insides. "I like it" he muttered to no one in particular, "I think I'll keep it."

His eyes went to the sky and before anyone knew it, he had completely vanished from view.

Cecilia was the first to move. "Heather," she commanded from her spot atop the still stunned Valkyrie.

Moondragon nodded, renewing her assault on the goddess' mental state.

Cecilia felt the form beneath her go limp for a second, then heard the now calm voice, "I think you'd appreciate it if you got off of me now, before I had to do it myself." the voice said. She looked down and saw Brunnhilde's half smiling face.

"Sorry," she said as she got up," but I had to..."

"I know..." Brunnhilde said, her eyes searching out where Patsy had fallen.

The Wasp and Gargoyle were already there, as if representatives from the two teams she had once called her own, paying their last respects. Brunnhilde approached cautiously, with the others.

Polaris and Northstar stood back and watched, seemingly detached from the tragedy. Lorna looked at Jean Paul, who merely nodded in silence, and hung his head. There were some things that never needed to be said between them, and this was but one.

The leader of the Valkryies knelt down beside her friend, placing her hand on Patsy's breast. "How many times must I lose you" she mouthed.

Isaac put his hand on Janet's shoulder and motioned for them to take a few steps back. Janet, wiping away a tear that had found itself rolling down her cheek with it's mates, nodded and followed suit. Cecilia walked up behind Isaac, putting her arms around the man that she loved, feeling his strength, and just being together.

The Valkryie knelt beside her fallen friend, and spoke to her for what seemed like a lifetime.

She spoke of their lives together, and of their times apart. She spoke of losing her before, and losing her now.

She spoke of many things, and when she was done, she reached over to close the eyes of the woman who had been Patsy Walker. "I commend thee to your God" she muttered, as her fingers brushed the eye lid of her dearest friend.

A hand shot up, grabbing Valkryie's outstretched fingers and pushing them away. The eyelids of Patsy Walker sprang open.

No one moved. No one that is, except Valkryie, who jumped to her feet and took a step back, wishing she had her sword.

The veil of death was written large on the face of Patsy Walker as she sat up. "Who are you people? What's going on?"

"Patsy?" Valkryie asked cautiously.

Her friend looked confused. "I think you've got the wrong woman miss" she muttered. "What happened to me.... One minute I was... Oh my god, where are my children!!!!"

"What are you talking about Patsy? You don't have any..."

The woman who had been Patsy Walker forced herself up from the ground, getting to her feet, "I told you -my name's not Patsy. It's Jennifer... Jennifer March - and I want to know where my children are!"

NEXT: Who is Jennifer March and what is she doing in Patsy Walker's body? Who has claimed sanctuary in the home of the Wasp and what will it mean for everyone's favorite non-team? What will happen with Rina and her new companions? Who next will be brought into the conspiracy of evil? And the return of the most requested Defender ever !