Interlude 1

"He is coming" they muttered under their breath, not daring to speak of his coming in normal tones, fearing his enemies would somehow hear, that they were somehow find a way of interfering with what was supposed to be. It was not logical - after all, the coming of Chthon had long been foretold.

His name was legend, his coming was prophecy. Even the mention of his name radiated power in their souls.

And yet, time after time, one mortal fool had stood in their path, in the path of the might of their God. And time after time, they had found some bit of trickery to prevent Chthon's full and rightful dominance over the mortal sphere called Earth.

The New York branch of the Cult of Chthon sat in their reserved room in the New York City Public Library and quietly chanted the words in the charred book that sat open in front of the Leader.

Once, they might have been able to perform the proper ritual in their sanctum. But being a follower of the Great God Chthon had not been enough to get anything with rent control, and the sheer cost of trying to maintain a headquarters anywhere other than Jersey without asking for a boon from the main assembly had led them to grab whatever they could.

The room was nice enough, with plenty of chairs. They had been warned however, about marking up the furniture in any way, and not to set any fires. That included candles. Apparently the last cult group that had met there had done a great deal of damage to the facilities...

"We call you Chthon" the leader invoked.

"We call you Chthon" the followers repeated.

"I wouldn't call you that," Sam Buchanan said as he pushed open the door, "A bit on the slow side perhaps, but not a demon of darkness. That seems a bit harsh."

The cult members sprang to their feet.

"Get him!" the leader bellowed.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," a voice from behind the Interpool agent declared, stepping out of the shadows.

He wore a costume of midnight blue, with a red flowing cape adorned with golden trim. He stepped into the room with power, with purpose.

This face was clad in a midnight blue mask, hiding his features from the world.

"It's Strange!" The Leader proclaimed, his heart jumping up into his throat. Dr. Stephen Strange had stood in the path of Chthon's destiny before. He had stood against the wonder and light, and had suffocated it with his own darkness.

The cult members rushed at him as one.

The masked man shook his head and raised his hand. His assailants were thrown backward into their chairs.

"I'm not Strange" the mask man said with a certain amount of amusement in his voice, "I'm Strangeman."

"And we'd like to ask you gentlemen a few questions," a woman's voice said, mere moments before Victoria Montessi entered the room, "About a book in your possession, and about what you know about the coming of Chthon."

The Leader sneered. "You can not stop him. No one can."

Strangeman looked at the smile on Sam's face and nodded, the mask concealing his own amusement. "Why don't you just let us decide that for ourselves." he said, as he levitated the Leader into the air with a gesture.

Victoria looked over to Sam with a look of confusion; "Is it just me?" she mouthed.

He shook his head. "No" he returned.

Strangeman, the Stephen Strange of Counter Earth, had always been a much weaker version of Earth's Sorcerer Supreme... now though, he had been gaining strength, using more and more power every time he tapped into the magic around him. He seemed, more confident. Maybe even a bit more dangerous.

Victoria stared at Sam for a long moment, communicating without words or traditional telepathy. He nodded and turned back to where Strangeman was interrogating the Cult members.

They were going to have to get down to the bottom of what was happening to their teammate sooner or later, or the Index could well be finished.

End Interlude 1

Isaac Christians hit Slither jumped out of Slither's path, wondering if his humanity was a blessing or a curse. At least, he mused, his brush with the Phoenix force while removing the curse of the Gargoyle that had been the price of his betrayal to the forces of darkness * had not restored his true age as well. It had taken at least 40 years off... unfortunately, that still had left him well past his physical prime. It still left him as a liability rather than an asset, especially now...

(* In the classic Defenders #94! - GD)

The Hulk was swatting blindly at Nighthawk.

Shocker was going after Northstar, but the mutant seemed to be one step ahead of him.

Cee Cee was holding off both Moonscythe and Moondancer with her force field. "For now" Isaac muttered, wishing that he had stayed within its confines instead of striking out on his own. At least then he could have held her hand... felt her touch, if things went wrong.

He glanced a bit further out, there was a large group of sword bearing warriors, fighting against a man and a woman, their battle coming on the fringes of his own. Isaac wasn't completely sure that there was any connection between the two battles, but in the matter of minutes, he was certain that there soon would be no real difference...

He punched Slither in the chest, or tried to... his serpentine foe twisted out of the way, before reaching out and wrapping himself around Isaac's body, entangling him... squeezing...

Isaac Christians struggled until he thought he was seeing stars... trying to free himself from his freakish foe...who continued to hammer on his head as he squeezed tighter.

"Make way!" he heard a woman shout, as something came crashing into him.

He gave way, smashing Slither beneath himself. There was something on top of him... SOMEONE. It jumped off of him and rushed back the way it had come.

Isaac looked beneath himself. Slither was pinned under him, struggling. Isaac hit him in the face several times, until the reptilian threat ceased to struggle.

He got to his feet, satisfied, looking around for his next...

Isaac looked over in the direction the person who had hit him had come from and did a double take. There was Buzz Baxter, the Mad Dog, literally fighting tooth and claw against someone wearing the old yellow and blue costume of Hellcat.

He took a second look, noting the change in hair color. It wasn't flaming red. But then again, since Patsy had returned in a new form, she had gotten used to being a brunette.

He watched her fight for a second, before having to duck under what might have been a random blast that would have fried him where he stood.

"That's not Patsy" he muttered to himself. "But why is Jennifer March wearing her costume?" he asked, as he turned to face whatever new foe was coming in his direction.

No answer was forthcoming.

Satanna parried another blow from the Asgardian Riaod the Swordsman, then twisted in time to block the opening blow from the disposed Demon Lord Belasco.

Once upon a time, Belasco had ruled the nether realm known as Limbo. He had ruled there, until his protege and prisoner, Illyana Rasputin, the mutant some called Magik, had taken her revenge, and her place as his heir. She had supplanted him on the throne, and even following her death, he had been too weak to take back what he still longed for.

His lackey S'ym had even taken it for a time. But time had no meaning when it came to Limbo. Every piece existed together, each overthrow; each techno virus infesting the realm happened side by side the next. Every piece was valid. Somewhere, Satanna knew, in the vast uncharted realm, was a Belasco who continued to rule, a Magik who would never die, only repeat herself - a S'ym who would do anything for power.

She looked into his eyes as she batted away his jab with ease. This was not that Belasco. This was not a Demon Lord full of pride and dignity. It was a fallen one, one who longed for what he did not have. What he could never have again.

Satanna had ruled Limbo after the Hells War. She had ruled from there for quite some time, until coming to Earth to do her brothers bidding.

She turned Riaod's blade in time for it to come crashing down on Belasco's thrust.

The Demon Lord howled in pain as his mystical extension was destroyed on a primal level. He drew back, continuing to howl.

Satanna turned her eyes back to the Swordsman. Belasco was part of some greater attack she knew, a larger, deadlier attack. But he would not be attacking her again until he could refocus his energies.

The blade in Riaod's hand had shattered a piece of his being. More than that, it had completely erased it from existence.

She couldn't allow it to even scrape her, not without drastic repercussions...

She didn't look around, keeping her eye on the godling in front of her, and hoping that her teammates were faring better than she was.

Chloe Boudreaux, the former Fist of Khonshu, had been running toward the sounds of battle.

A half step behind her had been Janine De Loup, the former Spirit of Vengeance and Eric Simon Payne, the Devil Slayer.

Now though, she had stopped running.

Something was standing in her path. Or rather, someone.

A young, naked hermaphrodite someone. "Why can't He see you?" the hermaphrodite said in astonishment, as if someone was forcing the words through his/her throat. "I can see you here, but he can't there."

Janine and Chloe exchanged a look. When Halcyon had taken them away from their lives, he had claimed that he had done so to keep them from death. Kang had wanted to eliminate them from a future battle, and would have done so if he did not already think them dead and gone. He had also said that he wanted to hide them from the eyes of a younger version of himself. Was his power masking them from the hermaphrodite's master's gaze, or was it a byproduct of something else?

They wondered quietly if Kang, or the younger Halcyon, was behind putting a naked hermaphrodite in their path, and what possible meaning it could have.

Devil Slayer started forward. The hermaphrodite raised his/her hand; a talon of fire lashed out, knocking him backward.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you past" He/she said calmly. "We can not allow you to interfere in what is none of your business."

"This IS our business" Chloe said, her features going cold, "Who are you to stand in our way?"

The hermaphrodite laughed, a laughter that seemed to shake the world, "I am Cloud." He/she said, stretching his/her arms out to the side, a giant flaming bird manifested behind his/her form, "I am the Phoenix!" *

(*Last seen in Defenders Giant Size #7! - GD)

Devil Slayer turned to Janine and mouthed something. She did not quite catch what it had been, but it had started with the word "Oh".

The legions of the dead continued to attack, and continued to fall at the swirling blades of Fandral the Dashing and his companion, the Valkyrie known simply as Mist. Fandral cast an eye at the other battle, almost close enough to touch, and getting closer.

The Defenders were fighting against the Hulk it seemed, plus a number of Midgard's villains. He wasn't all that sure who they were, he had no doubt that the Prince Thor would be able to tell him on sight, but he was hardly an expert on the matters of Midgard.

What he was an expert at, he continued to do. Or rather, he continued to do it crudely. There was no room for the flash and technique that personified his existence. There was only hack and slash, hack and slash... as the army of the dead continued to move forward.

Mist cut down another warrior, and then lifted her blade in the air above her head.

Fandral wasn't sure what she was doing, anymore than he was sure why the woman they had been sent to watch, Jennifer March, had put on a yellow and blue costume and had rather blatantly separated herself from them during the combat *.

(*Last issue - GD)

All he knew was that she was leaving herself open to the attacks of the swarms of undead warriors coming toward her.

He started to make his way toward her, hoping that he could get there before she had been cut to ribbons... hoping to...

She opened her mouth to speak, and he froze. Her pleasant features had been replaced by those of a cold and hard Chooser of the Dead of Valhalla. "Be gone" she bellowed at the masses of undead warriors, "This is not your time nor place. Ragnarok shall come, but it is not today. Return to your mistress and tell her that she must fight her own battles on this day!"

The undead warriors started forward, eager to claim her as a kill. They started forward and then stopped as if slapped by powerful magicks.

They turned away from her, and closed in on where Fandral was standing. The Dashing One lashed out at a couple of them, taking a whole arm here, another slice decapitating an undead warrior. They continued to advance on him, as if to overwhelm him by sheer numbers...

"Be gone I say!" Mist's voice returned, piercing through the sounds of battle, "It is your Mistress who must pay this day the price that shall be paid!"

As the warriors turned their attention back to Mist, Fandral considered the opportunity to strike, but held his swordarm in check. They were no longer fighting after all... they were nodding... and vanishing, one by one.

"I call thee Hela!" Mist shouted at the skies, "I call thee to do your own handiwork on this day!"

Fandral stared at Mist with wonder. He had faced certain death at the hands of the Mistress of Hel, but at the side of his fellow warriors, or at the side of the Odinson. A lone Valkyrie calling forth her wrath onto the plane of Midgard... that was in invite far worse than death.

"I summon thee Hela!" she invoked.

Fandral watched in horror as the Goddess of Hel stepped through a door of light, her feet levitating inches above the soil of Midgard.

"I am here" Hela proclaimed, "So come sweet child of Odin, let us see who has the ear of death on this day."

The man in green watched and waited, in anticipation. He heard the chants of the mystic Kulan Gath, felt the change coming that would revert the Earth into the dark ages. He saw Hela take her first steps onto the mortal plane. He felt Belasco's pain, as well as the energy quickly building up within him again. The next strike would not be with mortally conceived weapons, but with real hellfire.

The man in green knew this. He licked his lips, anxious for it.

The Dweller of the Dark and Nightmare were coming, slowly seeping into the reality... he saw them making their way, cautious as ever. He kept an eye on them. It would not do for them to escape doing their part. If they tried to stand clear until the end, they would pay. It was that simple.

They would come forth and fulfill his will, or they would be punished.

DeathUrge was watching everything carefully, as if waiting for his own moment to reveal himself. The man in green nodded. He had expected that much, but DeathUrge would not be able to stay his hand forever.

He also watched the Dragon operating out of body of the Inhuman tyrant Maximus the Mad. He could feel the presence of others... as if, they too were waiting for something to happen.

He shook his head in disgust. They would not stand in his way. They would be allowed to do whatever damage they could to weaken the Defenders... but the final blow would be his.

He had declared it long before, he had declared it, and now it would be brought to fruition.

Kang was facing down the one called Timeslip, in several places. He too had brought minions to the fray. The man in green scoffed. They would be pawns of the greater pieces before long. That was the way of the world. The lesser was consumed by the greater...

He watched Chthon, pacing in the astral plane, waiting to be summoned - or perhaps for some of his prey to come to him. The Dark Lord wanted to destroy everything, and did not want to wait any longer to do so.

The man in green smiled, knowing that the wait would soon be coming to an end.

Moondragon didn't have time to gasp before the Dragon of Moon bore down on her in the form of Maximus the Mad.

She didn't have time to do anything other than to scramble out of its path.

"Come back Heather," Maximus beckoned her, "Come back and be our little plaything."

Dragonfang, the sword of Valkyrie stuck out of his chest like a trophy. His eyes were glazed over with a series of black swirls, and a darkness that was as much akin to a shadow as it was a nightmare, was growing around him.

"It's manifesting here again," Moondragon thought to herself, remembering a time that seemed to be so long ago, when she was the one that the Dragon spoke through, a time when she was nothing more than a container for its evil might.

She blasted Maximus with a mental bolt, staggering the body of the Dragon if not the being. The blow would have been enough to take down anyone else, but the level of Maximus's insanity and the presence of the Dragon within him, a Dragon who knew her as well as she did herself - perhaps better, shield him from the greater impact on his brain.

He started laughing, hysterically laughing... the blackness in his eyes shifted, as if it wanted to jump out at her... as if it wanted to take her...

"Come with us Heather" a familiar voice declared.

She turned to see Century, the man who had become her lover*, as well as their friends Paul Morrow and Victor Bergman.

(*During the Defenders/Space 1999 saga - GD)

"Come with us" he repeated.

She didn't say "But... you're dead." she didn't need to. He spoke to her mind directly, telling the tale of the death she had perceived aboard her starship, the Dragons Eye, and of the lies she had been led to believe. He told of how the Dragons had taken him in, how they had taken all of them in. And how they wanted her back... about how they wanted Rina Patel's child to grow beside his father in the grace of the Dragons.

"All you have to do Heather," he said, stepping forward, with an eager smile, "Is take my hand."

She glanced at him, then back at where the Dragon of the Moon held Maximus's form and itself at bay while the offer was made. She turned back to Century with a smile... and an outstretched hand full of love.

Full of love... for

	December- Year 4
	#200

Interlude 2

He stared up at her and smiled.

Brunnhilde the Valkyrie had been crucified on the Yggdrasil, the tree from which life had sprang, as had been foretold. She was there to gain knowledge, to learn the lessons she would need to have in the future. Or so he surmised. Perhaps though, perhaps she was being punished for something... perhaps this was the penance she had do for her sins.

He licked his lips. He liked that option much better... much better indeed.

A humbled Brunnhilde, one weakened in form and influence, that suited him well indeed.

With Hela away from the realm on other business... and one of his most hated foes taking herself out of the action... things were looking up indeed.

"Halt!" someone called.

He turned in time to see the approach of a lone warrior.

"Who dares to look upon this one in this hour?" The warrior demands.

He watches the warrior approach, finally recognizing the one known as Harokin, Leader of the Legions of Valhalla. He smiled; his enemies were coming to him then... so much the better.

He took a step backward, as if from fear.

Harokin took another several forward, his heart made brave in the face of cowardice. "Stand and be known!" he demanded.

He let his hood drop as he turned to face Harokin. "I suspect I don't need to give my name to you of all people." he gloated.

Harokin drew his sword, "Indeed not villain! I know not how you have returned but no harm shall come to the noble Brunnhilde on my watch!"

He raised his hand, releasing the magicks he had been preparing for such a response. He had never imagined it would be from Harokin though... that was simply a bonus.

Harokin grasped his sword arm as his blade fell impotently from his hand. He fell down to one knee, gasping. "You will never..." he started to say, before falling flat on his face, quite dead.

Ollerus the Unmerciful kicked the body of the fallen warrior twice before turning away from him. Then he turned and kicked him again. "If only he would stay dead," he thought with a certain amount of disgust. He knew that those of Valhalla spent all day long slaughtering each other, so that they could rise once more to join in a great feast... with drinking... and dancing... and...

Ollerus the Unmerciful stared at the limp body of Harokin with delight as he started his chant. Once completed, the spell would take care of the majority of his foes in one shot.

He cackled to himself, delighted with his own fiendish cleverness. One simple spell that would forever free him from the torment of his enemy's resistance. One simple spell - that would give him everything he wanted... and more.

All he had to do - was wait.

End Interlude 2

Lemar Hoskins, Battlestar, flipped over of Boomerang's signature weapons, sending it flying into Nitro, who merely shook it off before continuing after the vampire Hannibal King. The sky had gone dark with ash long before, when the Sanctum of Dr. Strange had exploded. It was darker now... as if the entire body of evil was pushing down on the sky. "Maybe it is" he thought he himself, as he blocked another swing by Anvil. Hammer was trying to pursue Mr. Immortal, who was trying to keep them as far apart as their attaching chain would allow them to be so.

Lemar nodded, it was sound strategy, even if it was from a complete lunatic.

Satanna was still fighting against the Swordsman who had appeared just as they were approaching the Sanctum.

He shook his head, realizing that if not for the attack, that they might have been far closer to the center of the explosion. In fact, they might have been inside!

He felt the footsteps on his grave, sending shivers down his spine moments before Boomerang tried to send him straight to that place without the wait. It exploded against his energy shield with enough force to knock him off his feet. "Concussion" Lemar muttered to himself, wishing that he had the time to study what else might be in the arsenal of his various opponents.

He only hoped the battle wouldn't last long enough for him to find out.

He cast a look back at Satanna, noting that the demon that had attacked her earlier was coming at her again, this time with a sinister glow coming from his hands instead of a blade.

"Look out!" he shouted, noting her turn just in time to dodge the opening blast of his new opponent.

She nodded in his direction before going back to her business.

Lemar smiled as he leapt forward, full of confidence. When the Princess of Hell acknowledged your presence, it helped put you in a new pecking order he told himself, one in which he wasn't about to let himself be beaten by a group of petty crooks.

He connected with the body suit of Boomerang, knocking the villain off his feet completely. Boomerang looked up to him, flinching as he expected the finishing punch to the face that would knock him out of the fight for the duration.

He flinched, and then turned back to Battlestar with a sinister smile on his face, "Do it!" he mocked.

Battlestar looked at him in pity, shaking his head, "I'm not going to hit a man who's down." he said, "I'm going to give you this chance to divest yourself of your toys and give yourself up before things get worse."

Boomerang laughed, as his eyes filled with black swirls, "Foolish mortal" he mocked, "Things have already gotten much worse... for you."

The Dragon within him lashed out with a blast of dark energy, knocking Battlestar completely off his feet again.

Lemar landed hard... knowing that he was going to hurt in the morning, and wondering if he'd be lucky enough to enjoy that pain, as the Dragon-possessed Boomerang moved in for the kill.

Mephista watched from her realm, wondering where her father had gone. She could see the others, could feel the pressure they were exerting on the prime material plane, but not Mephisto, nor could she truly locate the man in green.

She knew where he was though, not so much by his presence as much as the lack of it. He masked himself from detection, for now, but if you knew he was there - it wasn't that hard to find him. She vowed to keep an eye out for his activities, hoping that she would be able to mask herself during the chaos enough to do so with impunity.

She also felt the Lord of Hell... nearing the mortal city of New York, streaking through the air in his chariot of fire. He was coming for his friends, not realizing... she shook her head, wondering if she should warn him of what she suspected.

She sat and watched as he approached the two battles taking place in the city between two different groups of Defenders, and two different sets of foes. She wondered which one he would go to first... but only for a moment, cursing herself for not seeing it at once. There really was only one answer to that question, and unfortunately for Daimon Hellstorm, it was no doubt going to be the wrong one.

Rina Patel, the woman known as Timeslip, held her baby close to her bosom, wondering what her next move should be. She had come to help her friends in their hour of need, she had come to stop Kang the Conqueror from killing her baby... who would one day, perhaps, grow up to become Kang himself.

It was a confusing situation to most, as time travel tended to be. But to her, it made sense that there were three other versions of herself at the battle, and the fact that there were also multiple Kangs had not been the shock it would have been to most.

Once upon a time, she had been a relative novice at time travel, but time had a way of grabbing hold of you and pulling you along in its wake.

She looked over to where her future self was fighting at the side of the Defenders against the Crime Cartel. She had wanted to go aid them, and perhaps that was why she had come earlier to join them at the site. For now though, Kang was standing in her path.

"I was hoping I'd find you here." the self-titled Lord of Time mocked, "Now surrender the baby and we can all go on with our lives."

Rina shook her head, calmly, from side to side.

Kang the Conqueror smiled, "I was hoping you'd say that" he said, moving forward.

Rina Patel, known as Timeslip stood her ground as Basilisk tried to blast her. "Oh please" she mocked as she slowed down his attack and then reversed it, so that the beam simply went back where it came from.

The villain shook his head for a moment, trying to figure out what had happened to him, and where his opponent had gone!

Rina stepped through the seconds between them and grabbed hold of a baseball bat that had been carried by a six year old boy named Tommy one day in 1968 as he had innocently walked by the Sanctum of Stephen Strange on his way to the park. She re-phased in with the rest of reality and clobbered Basilisk over the head with the bat.

Despite his body armor, his head still was unprotected enough to give against the force of the bat.

He dropped like a sack.

And suddenly rose again, smiling.

"No wonder" she muttered to herself, in frustration, "He did seem a bit distracted."

In knocking out the Basilisk, she had disrupted his own mental battle for control... he rose from the ground, smiling, with black swirls in his eyes and the total destruction of her and the Defenders on his mind.

Kulan Gath spoke the last word of the spell, feeling the very air around himself start to shimmer, "It is coming," he muttered in delight, "At last this time shall belong to me!"

"Wouldn't that be nice?" a voice said from behind him.

Kulan Gath, the greatest wizard of his age, felt his magicks being ripped from the surface of the world...

One moment they were seeping into reality, beginning the process that would revert the modern world back to a far better one. The next, it felt as if a great hand had simply reached out and pulled the strings upward, never to touch the ground, never to do his bidding.

The aged wizard turned toward the intruder, ready to smite him with a carefully worded spell. But, as he turned, he stopped... "Why?" he mouthed.

The man in green held the spell to bring back the days of yore in his hands, its energy pulsating in between his hands, "Maybe because I need this more than you do," the man in green answered, "Or maybe," he smirked, "Because you should really know better than to take ME at MY word."

Kulan Gath released the spell of his lips, causing a ball of fire to leap from his fingertips at the man in green. His opponent simply glanced at the ball as it came closer and closer, until it simply disappeared.

The man in green shook his head in amusement, "You really didn't have to go and make this harder for yourself..."

He reached forward toward the aged mystic... sucking forth the magic from his body as he did so... absorbing the strength of Kulan Gath...

The mightiest sorcerer of his age fell to the ground, completely drained. The man in green watched for a moment, of what was left of his "ally" slowly crumbled to dust. He watched for a moment, as he placed Kulan's spell to his chest, feeling the power of the old days flow once more into his veins.

The days of Kulan Gath, of swords and sorcery, had been good ones for him - powerful ones. He felt the old power return, and turned his eyes back to the battles that yet raged before him...

Buzz Baxter, Mad Dog, grabbed Jennifer March by her hair and slammed her head into the ground. "Patsy used to like when I did that." he laughed, "Maybe, since you've taken Patsy's new body - you might want her old husband too - howsbout it baby?"

"Get bent," she shouted, feeling the strength that flowed through her body, feeling the power that seemed to swell inside her. She had decided to wear Patsy's costume, decided to, at least for the moment, to step into her old costumed identity, that of the Hellcat... but that didn't mean she needed any of Patsy's old baggage. She grabbed Mad Dog's hand and tore it away, hoping that he didn't yank any of her hair in the process.

She hit him once in the face, knocking him to the ground. Buzz got back up to his feet again though... and was smiling at her.

"What the hell were you thinking Patsy?" she muttered to herself, wishing that she could figure out why exactly someone who could earn the trust and friendship of some of the most powerful people on the planet would have ended up *married* to such a psychopath.

"Just for the record," Jennifer said, kicking Buzz in the chest as he started to get back to his feet, "She stole MY old body - I didn't take hers..."

Mad Dog leered, "I know that I certainly enjoyed it when she made love to me..." he said calmly, "Maybe you'd like it if you got to enjoy what your body already has..."

Jennifer stopped in her tracks... how long had Patsy been in charge of her body? How long had she and Buzz not been together? Was it possible that she had... carnal knowledge of Buzz while in HER body? Barring that - what had Patsy done in her "new body" that Jennifer didn't yet know about. Who had she met? What had she done? What sorts of effects would Jennifer one day be feeling as a result of Patsy's possession?

Before she could think too much about it, Buzz jumped to his feet and tried to rake her with his claws. She repaid the compliment, but was better at it. She sliced into his face.

"My eyes!" he screamed and fell down to one knee.

She reached out with her mind... it felt natural, touching the madness that was Mad Dog. She stayed where she was, knowing that he was prepared to reveal his feign the moment she showed a moment of concern. She pushed a little further, back into his memories... pushing...

"Thank god" she muttered to herself, realizing that he had lied about what had happened between himself and Patsy, at least as far as her body was concerned... there were other memories... much deeper ones that...

Something pulled at her, something dark... pulling her mind further into the psyche of Buzz Baxter.

Be with usThe Dragon manifesting itself in Buzz's mind invited, reaching its dark tentacles out to her. You belong with us

She shook its tentacle off of the mental projection of herself, while turning to leave the mad mind of Buzz Baxter.

We can help you The Dragon promised, We can make you whole again.

She stopped at the edge of the mind, listening to the words, feeling her mind start to go black... as the Dragon started to come closer... as something started seeping into her own body...

She felt the darkness of the Dragons... and blasted them with a mental bolt.

"I've never done that before" she muttered to herself.

"Of course you have" a woman's voice answered in her head, "It's been with you the entire time."

She blasted the Dragon approaching her again, and released her presence from Mad Dog's mind, reaching out as she did so, and closing the door behind her.

The Dragon that was starting to come into her body recoiled, she reached out with her mind and grabbed it firmly in her mental grip. "I didn't invite you here," she said forcefully, the words coming to her from someplace beyond. She flung the Dragon out of her body...

She opened up her eyes to see Mad Dog lying on his back on the ground, the whites of his eyes staring into the sky...

Rina Patel stared across the distance and saw Paul Morrow, the father of her baby, and his friend, their friend, Victor Bergman, attacking Moondragon. She had smiled when she saw Century and the others appear, glad to have the allies in their time of need. After all - the Dragons were coming... they had learned that much in space... they really didn't have the time to waste on battling the Inhuman, or a former teammate.

She started to glance toward the Hulk, to ponder why he had gone mad again... but Moonstone stepped in her path.

"But how?" she started to ask herself, trying to think of how she had been able to spot her in the ten microsecond bubble she had been keeping herself in, away from the fray. That answer, she knew, was one that she had learned before she had left for space, before she had gotten pregnant in the first place.

"Kang sent you, didn't he?" Rina asked.

Moonstone nodded with a smile, "But, believe me, this is going to be fun for me as well."

Rina shook her head, "No" she declared, "I don't think it will be."

Moonstone raised her hand to destroy the teenager, but when she let the energy blast free from her fingers, she found herself in front of Victor Bergman instead.

"Who?" the Dragon within him wondered for a split second, before the Dragon-enhanced abilities of Moonstone smote him where he stood.

The Dragon howled in pain, and leapt toward Moonstone.

She cried out to the Dragon of the Moon, as its sister burrowed its way into her brain...

Rina Patel watched as Moonstone fell down to one knee on the other side of the battle, silently thanking the pathways of the city beneath her feet for their assistance...

She stared out of her bubble in time, watching as what appeared to be the Avengers and other heroes, coming to investigate what had been placed beyond their kin. They would not be allowed to get involved, she somehow knew that... whatever force had jarred them out of synch with the normal flow of time, had also been enough to keep anyone outside of the anomaly from truly perceiving it.

"We're alone," she told herself, watching as some of the greatest minds, some of the mightiest heroes, shook their heads and even passed right through the battles... and finally left the scene never knowing what they had nearly stumbled upon. Once again, the Defenders would have to face their enemies by themselves.

"You will never be alone," Kang declared, pushing his way through her bubble, "You'll always have me, mother."

"Come back here Birdman!" the Hulk bellowed, "Why does Birdman not let Hulk hit him?"

"Maybe because I'm not stupid," Kyle Richmond, the dead man who was Nighthawk, thought to himself. Then again, if he hadn't been stupid, he would probably have not found himself in such a spot.

"Come down and fight!" The Hulk said, but in a completely different tone. Kyle could see a dark shadow form around the green man mountain, "Come down and die!" it said, sending a talon of darkness into the air, grabbing him in mid-flight.

You are ours the Dragon in his mind told him, You were brought back for us. You shall serve our will

Kyle Richmond, the dead man called Nighthawk stared out at the battle and headed toward where Northstar was finishing off Shocker, striking the flying mutant from behind.

Jean-Paul fell to the ground, hard. Kyle landed next to him, casting a dark shadow over his prone form, and smiling with the heart of a Dragon.

The Dragon pushed itself into the mind of Mr. Immortal as he fought against both of the recently possessed Hammer and Anvil.

It pushed itself into his mind... trying to get a grasp. Then - it struck something... something deep within his mind...

The Dragon of the Storm screamed inside the mind of the man known as Mr. Immortal... screamed and kept screaming... it tore at itself, raging within his form, as if trapped there.

The Dragons within Hammer and Anvil made their mortal forms take a step back from their foe.

Their smiling foe... their laughing foe.... Mr. Immortal let out a burp as the screams in his head ceased, and what was left of the Dragon of the Storm ceased to be. "Who's next?" he challenged.

The Dragons within Hammer and Anvil glanced at one another, and spoke without words. They charged at him with all their might within their own beings, as well as that of their possessed forms.

Mr. Immortal stood on top of Hammer's back, with one leg propped up on Anvil, as they lay defeated on the ground, laughing hysterically...

The ground shook, knocking Mr. Immortal from his perch. The Lord of Hades, Mephisto, burst forth from the ground, bigger than life and twice as ugly, and stared down at the tiny form of Craig Hollis and grinned. "Someone has to die first mortal." he hissed, "My guess is that it will be you."

Mr. Immortal looked at the giant demon and shrugged, "I laugh at death," he said, "But then again, death seems to laugh at me a lot as well..." He leapt at Mephisto, with reckless courage on his mind, and a song in his heart.

She hadn't always been Janine De Loup, nor had she been the Ghost Rider for long before her world had collapsed. Before that time, she had been Jean De Wolff... she had been a cop, a damn good one.

Leaping at the Phoenix wasn't what a good cop would do, but giving her friends time to do something better was. She felt her feet leave the ground before she even knew that she was going to do it. She just closed her eyes and leapt forward, hoping to get off a hit or two before the destroyer of worlds was able to deal with her like a gnat.

"Gaea protect me" she mummered to herself, feeling the emptiness in response... feeling the... presence...

Janine's fist connected with the chin of Cloud/Phoenix, knocking the creature complete off his/her feet.

Janine landed on her palms, crouched. She looked down at her hands; they were glowing with the power of Gaea... not fire, but light, not vengeance, but love...

Cloud stared up at her in shock...

"No!" Halcyon slammed his fist into the table from the safety of his time-displaced home of Chronopolis, feeling his influence slip off of the Phoenix, "I will not fail!"

"Of course you will brother," someone said from behind him. He turned to see a much older version of himself sitting in the chair behind the desk. "You will fail, and continue to fail, until you learn all you need to know."

The younger Halcyon started forward, to wipe the smug look off of his face. But the older one simply raised his right eyebrow and stopped his counterpart in his tracks, "You don't honestly think you can beat ME do you? I'm you - but with more experience, more power. I've learned the lessons - he wouldn't let me kill him when I was you... and neither will I. You have to become me the old fashion way, get here by age, by wisdom."

"How did my pawn fail?" The younger asked, "There were none left that could have stood against it..."

The older smiled, raising the veil he had placed around his own pawns, "Except of course THEM," he revealed.

The younger nodded his head in respect; "I had thought them removed from the board. I now see my folly... and acknowledge my better, this time..."

The older smiled, "As it should be..."

"You are my sister in Gaea" Cloud said, her/his eyes wide in wonder. She/he simply rose back to his/her feet; "We are ashamed to have stood in your path. Tell us how we may aid you."

Janine looked over to Chloe and Devil Slayer... they both were relieved, they both were smiling like they had something specific in mind.

"we are ready" Nightmare cackled

"ready" The Dweller of the Dark agreed... "ready" he repeated over and over again as a litany against the light.

"The man in green" had promised much... all they had to do was to come forth to Earth and kill the Defenders... Nightmare giggled insanely as they pushed the rest of the way through the web of reality and the astral plane, slipping between the threads of sanity...

The one called the Wasp stood in front of their spot of manifestation, with some sort of orb in her hands, "You didn't really think we were just going to LET you in did you?" She asked, arching her eyebrow.

Nightmare and the Dweller of the Dark looked at each other in panic as they started moving forward of their own violation... the very negative beings finding themselves sucked into the kyanite center of the orb... sucked in and trapped...

The man in green looked on in both disgust and amusement. He had hoped to absorb their powers as well, when the time presented itself... using their might in the meantime, but it amused him to see the Wasp holding the gem in her tiny hands. It was their Ace in the Hole; the one that they should have kept hidden until things looked the bleakest. He snickered to himself, knowing that that moment was coming soon.

Doctor Cecilia Reyes had seen many strange and wonderful things since coming into her mutant powers. She had fought beside the X-Men, she had found love in the eyes of a what many would think of as a monster, she had seen that love (and the power of the Phoenix) transform Gargoyle back into a human form, she had even gone out into the depths of space and returned. Now, as Lifeforce, she led the group of Defenders that had gone into space...

But what she hadn't quite been prepared for was what had happened when the two members of the Moonguard; Moonscythe and Moondancer, with the darkness of the Dragons now fully filling their beings... hit her force shield at full tilt.

She had tensed, waiting for the impact that would surely be enough to break through her biofield... but instead she was greeted by a great flash of light that blinded for a moment... she opened them again to see a great bird of fire returning to her shield, having reduced both attackers to ashes.

She glanced at the charred remains of the two... and quickly looked away. There was still much fighting to do, still a lot of people she loved to keep safe... there would be plenty of time for regret later.

Hela, the Norse Goddess of Death, stood towering over her, answering her challenge. Mist closed her eyes, and increased her own size to match that of her foe. It wasn't something that the Valkyrior did very often, particularly when on Midgard, but it was useful at times.

The Goddess of Death nodded in approve, then looked off into the distance, as if staring through molecules, she smirked at something there, "So, that shall be your game," she whispered, "Very clever, but I assure you, it is ultimately in vain."

Mist noted the Goddess with her concentration elsewhere, and fumed. She had called forth Hela's attention and expected to be worthy of it.

She raised her sword in scorn," Defend yourself!" she declared, striking out.

Hela, although distracted, still had enough speed to meet the Valkyrie's blade with her own. She pushed back Mist's blade with her strength, and made a lunge with her own.

Mist sidestepped the effort and took a swipe of her own. Hela blocked it with ease.

Hela started forward again, feeding her power through her blade and using her superior strength to push Mist back a few long steps. Hela took another step forward, and screamed out in pain. She looked down at her right foot and howled in fury.

Mist followed her glance downward. While the two women had been fighting at an increased size, he had been using his comparative diminutive stature and superior swordsmanship to slice open a sizeable portion of Hela's right foot, severing several major arteries. The blood of the Goddess of Death was flowing freely from her injured foot.

Hela kicked out with her left foot, but the smaller Fandral rolled out of her way, causing her swinging left foot to instead connect with her right. Hela once more howled in pain, only to follow it a moment later, when, taking advantage of the situation, Mist plunged her own blade straight through the chest of the Goddess of Death.

Hela's eyes went wide with panic, and rage.

Mist barely had the time to pull her blade out, before Hela's came crashing down on her right shoulder.

It was Mist's turn to scream in pain as the power of Death seeped into her body from the wound.

Mist's sword fell from her hand, transforming as it did so back to normal size, clattering on the ground. Fandral scooped it up, and moved away quickly before Mist fell to one knee as she held her shoulder with her left arm. She looked up at Hela with a look of defiance. "Sisters!" she called out to the skies, "To me!"

She scanned the skies for the coming of the Valkyrior. Hela laughed. "Don't count on them," she mocked, "They have their own problems right now."

Hela moved in for the kill... expanding her powers toward the Valkyrie, laughing...

The laughter died in her throat as her eyes rolled upward and she slid to the ground, powerless.

The man in green stood behind where she had stood, larger than life. He smiled down at Mist.

Her eyes expanded, recognizing him, "S..."

"Set" he said abruptly, "Yes, I am indeed Set."

She shook her head, but found her voice had momentarily failed her.

The man in green nodded, "At least for now I am." he explained with a smile, and disappeared once more.

Kang the Conqueror turned away from Timeslip to see what was happening. His Crime Cartel had been taken over by mystic beings... who were still keeping the Defenders too occupied to interfere in his plans.

He had expanded the influence of his time field to include Rina Patel and her child, knowing that she would be unable to do much to use her abilities within it. Granted, his own powers were hampered as well. But that was where the fact that he was still an armored powerhouse came in.

He glared at the baby in Rina's hands, stepping forward. "Give him to me!" he demanded.

"Over my dead body," she declared. Kang could see the look of concentration on her face, she obviously thought that she was going to be able to simply step through time and get away... or somehow harm him with the field.

He laughed, "Foolish girl! You may play with time - but I am its master!"

"I've heard that somewhere before," A voice said from behind him, "But funny enough - I don't believe he was referring to you."

Rina Patel smiled, recognizing the people she would soon regard as friends.

Kang though was confused; he turned to look, only to be met by a blade to his throat.

"I wouldn't expend too much energy trying to fight us," Devil Slayer explained, "I've had a rather rough time of it lately, and to be honest, I've decided that you're close enough to a devil to count."

"How..." Kang mouthed.

"How did we find you? How did we get through your bubble of time? How much of a chance to you stand against us?" Chloe offered.

Janine provided the answers, "We found you because you're just too cocky to change your energy signature, one that all of us have been exposed to," she explained, "We got through due to the fact that you really can't stop the Phoenix from doing whatever it wants to do... once she puts her mind to it..."

Cloud smiled.

"And as for the last bit," Devil Slayer supplied, "I'd recommend that you get the hell out of here before you have to find out."

Kang felt the blade on his neck, and stared into the eyes of Eric Simon Payne. There was clearly murder dancing in the man's eyes.

Kang the Conqueror dropped the time bubble, phasing back into reality... he glanced once again at the group he had taken over from his older self *, the Crime Cartel, now merely puppets... they had not been enough to get the job done. He silently vowed to do better next time... and stepped through the portal of time, in order to do so.**

(* As detailed in Defenders # 198; **Emerging sometime before Defenders #187 - GD)

"Thank you," Timeslip said, with a grateful smile, "I really don't know what we would have...."

"You have to go after him." Cloud interrupted.

"What?" Rina exclaimed, "Why do I... " She stared into the eyes of the hermaphrodite Phoenix host, "I understand she replied, I need to set things in motion don't I?"

Cloud nodded solemnly.

She/he reached out and touched Rina's forehead, transferring energy, and knowledge into the girl, "This should give you the edge you will need."

"Thanks," Rina Patel replied with regret. She smiled at the friends she hadn't made yet, at this time at least, wishing she could tell them goodbye in a way that they would understand. She looked over to where the older version of herself was still fighting for her life. Perhaps she would be able to tell them what it had meant to say goodbye. Even better though, was the younger version of her, no doubt still fighting over in Times Square. She would be the one who was able to say "hello".

"Let's get going little one," Rina Patel, Timeslip said to her infant son, "There's a great big past that's waiting for us." She stepped forward into a portal of time, vanishing beyond its veil.*

(* And reappearing in Defenders #188 - GD)

Hannibal King returned from the mist, at the signal, to connect with the face of Nitro. "I'm not here huh?" the vampire muttered with delight. When Timeslip had sensed that Kang was safely away, she had sent a pulse into the energy "fog bank" that he had, during the course of the battle, merged with.

Nitro went down like a rock. The Dragons were far too powerful to be dealt with by mortals, but by encasing themselves in physical bodies, before having the time to prepare those forms to deal with their energies - they were essentially making themselves beatable.

Hannibal looked around. Solarr was the only one of what was left of the Crime Cartel still standing. Timeslip had taken out Basilisk and Battlestar had somehow over-come Boomerang. Only Solarr remained. Unless of course, Hydroman was still somewhere around, holding back. He doubted it though... with all of the chaos, there was no real reason for anyone to stay their hands from attacking.

Mr. Immortal's charred corpse fell in front of him, dropping from the sky. Mephisto's laughter filled the air, as the demon continued to expand. Hannibal felt a stirring within himself, a dark feeling in the pit of his stomach, calling out to him... saying that he was on the wrong side. Saying that this might well be the time he died, forever.

He stepped over the body of Craig Hollis, muttering a few words from the Lord's Prayer... and hoping that there would still be enough Defenders left to pick up the pieces when everything was over, and that there would be something left to pick up...

The magicks crackled in Belasco's hand as he moved into position. Satanna was still occupied with the swordsman, playing cat and mouse. He moved with care, not wanting to overplay his hand... not wanting to get too close to the sword of Endless Night. It had harmed him, deeper than he had believed he could still be hurt.

The Swordsman would pay for that as well, but for the moment, he had to focus on the task at hand. He rose his hand, the spell that would utterly destroy the pretender to the throne of Limbo at his fingertips, waiting for release.

"Didn't I tell you not to harm her?" a dark voice stated, "Did I not tell you that you were to keep her busy - and that your accession to your rightful place would come from that?"

"But, I thought that it would be easier if I just..." Belasco countered, not daring to stare the man called Set in the eye.

"Never try to out think me demon," Set replied, raising his own hand.

The magicks on Belasco's fingertips danced there for a moment, before being pulled through the air and into Set's hand.

"How?" Belasco exclaimed.

Set smiled, "Never try to out think me," he said, unleashing the magicks onto the deposed demon lord of Limbo.

Belasco howled in pain, as his powers were stripped from him. Set rose his arms out to his sides, sucking up the energy being drained from the demon's essence.

The screaming stopped abruptly, as the dried husk that was Belasco hit the ground and shattered to the winds.

Jean-Paul kicked upward, catching the possessed Nighthawk in the stomach. Nighthawk took a couple involuntary steps back, which served as enough for the mutant to regain his feet.

"Aren't you supposed to on our side now?" Northstar inquired, "Or has this all just been one long sham?"

Nighthawk didn't reply, he simply lashed out with his fists.

Northstar was three steps ahead of him, grabbing his arm as it passed, and using the dead man's momentum to throw him into the ground.

Northstar stepped on his throat. "I'd suggest you surrender - before I crush your windpipe."

Nighthawk laughed, "Harm this vessel all you want" the Dragon within him replied, "There will always be another."

Northstar shrugged, and kicked Nighthawk in the face with his free leg.

The face of Kyle Richmond slid to the side, unconscious. The Dragon within him howled, trying to reawaken his tool. Failing that, it fled the body - returning to the sky to join the rest of its brethren... who were... gathering...

The Dragon roared in protest as Maximus the Mad pushed it away from his mind. "I am my own!" The Inhuman declared. "I do your bidding as my own man - not as your puppet!"

You are what we say The Dragons hissed, as the one who had attempted to bond with him joined the gathering swarm in the sky.

Maximus stared up at their masses, at their might, and laughed in defiance. "I am what I say I am!" he declared, bearing his own teeth at them. He grabbed hold of the hilt of the sword of the Valkyrie embedded in his chest with both hands, jerking it free from its sheath of flesh.

The Dragons raged, flying toward him with death in their eyes.

He stood fast, sword in hand.

The first of the Dragons swiped at his face. Maximus swung the blade, severing the Dragon's talon of darkness. The Dragon shrieked in pain and amazement. Its fellows broke off their attack to consider.

Maximus the Mad stood, the sword Dragonfang in hand, waiting for the end to come, and laughing in savage delight.

Clea, Earth's Sorcerer Supreme, could feel his coming... even through all of the mystical interference. Mephisto was closer, but Chthon's aura was stronger. "He's coming," she muttered to herself, knowing that they had to deal with Mephisto, and the Dragons, first. Otherwise - all was lost.

"Finish him off," she shouted to Satanna. The Demon Mistress of Limbo smiled and nodded.

Riaod started to laugh; after all, he had kept up with her stroke for stroke throughout the battle, giving as good as he had gotten. The thought that she could do anything but delay her own demise was far from his mind.

Satanna struck again with her sword, missing by a wide margin. Riaod the Swordsman's smile died on his lips as he saw his legs disappearing in a circle of light, moving quickly upward.

"Enjoy Limbo," Satanna laughed at the rapidly disappearing Asgardian, "I'm quite sure it's going to enjoy you."

"No!" Riaod called out in anger; "You cannot do this to me! I will not..." he plunged the Sword of Endless Night down into the light that was consuming him.

The light flared from mellow yellow to bright red, completely consuming him. His screams echoed throughout the battlefield for a moment, and then faded, never again to be heard on the mortal plane.

Seeing that task handled, Clea turned her sights on the looming figure of Mephisto.

Interlude 3

Someone once sang that they'd left their heart in San Francisco. Chances are good that if they happened to go for a drink or two at an exclusive club that went by the unlikely name of Helzapoppin', they weren't speaking figuratively. People left their hearts there all the time, and their spleens... and assorted body parts.

That was one of the perks of being on the invite list to one of the few truly Satanic nightclubs in the Bay Area. Sometimes you got to take things home with you. And sometimes things took you home.

Al Staitan sat nursing a drink, watching and waiting... there were major things happening in New York. Universe-shaking things. He wanted to keep his senses when it went down. He wanted to be able to offer...

"Who's in charge around here?" a woman's voice called out.

Staitan looked around, the place was literally packed full of nervous energy. Those who could feel anything past their own fingertips from several states around had been gathering in San Fran for the past couple of weeks. Some of the foolhardy had gone to New York... Shaitan had shaken his head at that. "Let him come in his time," he had warned. But some people just had to learn their own lessons.

He looked around for the woman. She wasn't hard to spot. She was the only exotic Oriental woman holding a battleaxe, that was heading in his direction.

"Shit," Staitan muttered to himself. The last thing he needed now was some sort of personal issues. He just wanted to stay in the club he had created and wait for what was to come in peace.

But sometimes, he knew, the universe just didn't let you do that.

"That would be me," he said, waving her own with whatever courage he could find the time to muster.

Her eyes focused in on him with grim determination. The crowd parted for her. Staitan couldn't blame them.

"What can I do for you?' he asked when she finally was in range.

She stopped a few feet away, fidgeting a bit with the axe in her hands. "My name is Typhoon." she declared, "I'm here for my husband."

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I find that hard to believe Mr. Staitan, considering that this was the last place he was seen."

Staitan shrugged, as if he really didn't care, keeping a careful eye on her lovely hands, "Lots of people come here. What was his name? Maybe that would help."

"Oliver Cutlass.”

Staitan controlled his features. Or at least hoped he did, "Never heard of him." he lied, trying not to let what was going on in the basement from reaching his face.

She moved faster than he would have given her credit for, positioning the edge of the axe against his throat. "I think you're lying." she hissed.

Staitan saw his bodyguard/doorman/bouncer Bruno moving up behind her.

His eyes shifted nervously down to the blade, "I wish I could help you, but I really can't."

"That's not saying you don't know where he is." she countered.

"You're right," Staitan answered with a smile.

Bruno caught her around the neck, pulling back sharply. Staitan jerked his feet back to avoid gaining a new nickname when the battleaxe clattered to the floor.

She struck hard with her elbow to Bruno's midsection, but he was able to hang out to her. He readjusted his position to pin her arms back. She kicked backward, driving her heel into his groin.

Bruno went down on one knee, letting her arms go.

There was a flash of movement, with her hand slapping Bruno across the face. Bruno fell backward onto the floor, barely breathing.

Typhoon turned back to Staitan. He eyed the battle-axe at his feet.

"You could try that I suppose," she offered, "Wouldn't do much good, but you could try it. Or, you could just tell me where to find my husband."

He picked it out of thin air, a way to tell without telling, "Ask Rufus Hackstabber" he replied.

She bent down quickly and grabbed up the axe, making him glad that he had not decided to make a play for it. She would have undoubtedly gotten there first. She nodded, "I will," she replied, "But if he doesn't have the answers... I'm coming back for your head," she menaced.

Staitan smiled, "I have no doubt that you will find Rufus more than able to tell you what has happened to you husband." he replied, knowing that the statement was as true as it was misleading.

Typhoon didn't waste her time with another threat. One warning had been enough to make her point. She simply turned and left. No one tried to stop her.

Staitan stared after her for a moment, cursing himself for being short sighted. He hadn't thought that the trail would lead back to him, or to his establishment.

He sighed. It couldn't be helped though. HE was coming... and he would need to be properly welcomed.

End Interlude 3

Moondragon stepped over the prone form of Century with regret. Regret for having to strike him down, for almost fusing his brain together in order to free him from the influence of the Dragons. Regret for having brought this upon them all, by her actions of the past. She was the one that the Dragon of the Moon had approached, many years before. SHE had been the one that had been weak of spirit... and forethought. It had been her defiance, and the sacrifice of her friends * that was now bringing the might of the Dragons combined against them.

(*Defenders #152 - GD)

She could see the Dragon-possessed Paul Morrow; he had broken off during her fight with her lover, to approach his own. Timeslip still hadn't seen that he was coming... or maybe she had. She was talking to someone, and motioning with her hands.

Moondragon pressed her telepathy toward them, in hopes of figuring out if Rina would need her immediate assistance.

Instead... all she felt was a pressing blackness. A sheer darkness of the soul. A darkness that she had felt before, a darkness she had prayed never to face again, "Chthon," the name rebounds in her mind, filling the quiet areas. Thoughts of his last coming... of the time when she and Stephen* had been together, back when... she pushed the thought out of her head, banishing it back to where it belonged.

She was going to need all of her strength, they all were - and whatever they could borrow... for Chthon would soon be there.

"I'd say you have more immediate problems," answered a familiar voice.

Moonstone stood between her and where the others were still fighting against the Hulk. Between her and Rina. Between her and where Maximus was making her stand against the might of the Dragons.

"I still don't understand," Moondragon asked, "What is this all about? I thought that the Moonguard was supposed to be heroes..."

Moonstone laughed, "I still can't believe that you idiots bought that. We've been playing you for fools..."

"Toward what end?"

Moonstone waved her arms, "Toward THIS of course," she confided, "The Dragons wanted us to set things in motion here on Earth, so we did!"

"Why? I've been in the thrall of one before, I can't see why others would willingly do their bidding?"

"For the power of course," Moonstone cackled, "It's always been about the power. They brought me back - made me better than ever. They gave me a new life - a new face... But it's always been about the power..."

Moondragon shook her head sadly, "Then I pity you - for the power that they offer is but an illusion. All they truly offer is slavery."

Moonstone smiled slyly, "We'll see. Some people aren't quite as stupid as you were baldy..." she stopped for a moment, considering, "You know, its sorta fitting that it's down to the two of us isn't it? We're sisters, in a way. Sisters of the Dragon folk... daughters to power... I've been waiting for this moment for quite some time."

A touch of a smile inched forward on Moondragon's lips. "So have I." she answered.

Moonstone hands were enveloped in dark energy. "Then lets enjoy this..."

The smile came full to Moondragon's lips, "I know I will..." she replied.

The fist of the Incredible Hulk connected with the skull of Moonstone, suddenly and completely.

Moondragon heard the sound of part of the skull caving in, and a last cry for her mother...

"Stupid moon girl think she can trick the Hulk!" the man beast growled, "But Hulk showed her! No one tricks the Hulk into fighting his friends!"

Moondragon nodded to the Hulk, and to the assembling Defenders behind him. "I don't think she'll ever be tricking anyone again Hulk..." she replied, "Ever again."

"You can't hurt me," Rina Patel explained, "I've already met myself after my son is born."

Kang stood with his arms folded in front of him, "Very astute of you," The self-described Lord of Time answered, "But also quite untrue. Time flows, the stream you have seen may indeed not be the one that is to come." He unfolded his arms, poising his gauntlet above his head, pointing down at her. "For instance..." he said, as he released an energy blast.

Rina stood smiling as she removed the blast from the time stream, "Thank you," she replied, "I'll sure I'll find use for later."

Kang watched her for a moment, pleased with what he saw. "You will make a fine mother of Kang," he said finally, and then vanished back beyond the scope of mortal kin.

Timeslip took a deep breath, and felt around for anomalies in the area - anything that would indicate the continued presence of Kang... he was gone. "For now," she muttered to herself, secure in the knowledge that her peace would not last.

"Forever," The voice of Paul Morrow spoke into her ear, "No one will ever trouble the two of you again."

She turned to see the man she had fell in love with during her journey through space. A man that she had thought she had lost forever during the journey back to Earth. A man... she stared into the blackness of his eyes, "A man I've lost again," she told herself.

He reached out his hand in love.

She reached out with her powers and grabbed hold of Paul's genetic structure, turning the clock back on his development.

The Dragon within him howled in dismay as it quickly found itself in a situation both new and unexpected. The Dragon reverted back to an egg, before ceasing to exist at all.

Rina picked the man she had loved up off of the ground, staring deeply into his eerily familiar eyes. The infant Paul Morrow stared up at her with total love, and complete trust. She held him close to her bosom, and wondered about the nature of the future.

"Isaac"

Isaac Christians heard the voice, but upon looking around, saw no one there.

"Isaac" The voice repeated.

"Clea!" he exclaimed, realizing the astral connection that was being attempted. "Where are you? Where are the others?"

"Our team is at what is left of the Sanctum."

"What is left...?" Isaac started to ask, but Clea cut him off.

"You'll see later. But for right now, we need to get our two teams together. Are Moondragon and Rina still with you?"

"Yeah."

"Good - here's what you need to do..." she explained.

Isaac committed it to memory, knowing that lives literally were hanging in the balance.

"We'll get right on that from our end... "Isaac replied, "It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you as well... although something seems to be different about you."

Isaac smiled. She still hadn't seen him as a normal, if much younger, human. Apparently his spirit was still nearly the same as it had always been... almost, but not quite. He wondered if that was good, or if it was a bad thing? Was he a man or a monster there? Isaac Christians or the Gargoyle?

He wondered if there was even a difference anymore, and prayed that there was.

Daimon Hellstorm hit the barrier again. He could *feel* his friends on the other side, he could feel the sheer evil that was present there as well. He urged his steeds onward, toward the barrier once more, raising his trident of power before him. It felt like the old days.

Except, he thought, looking over to where Jaine stood behind him, he would have been wishing that the woman riding with him were Patsy...

He looked over to Jaine again, as the barrier finally allowed him access, closing behind him. Perhaps it was more like the old days than he had thought.

Clea and Satanna Hellstorm combined their might against Mephisto, hammering him back... step by step. He continued laughing though, and gave as good as he was receiving. He lashed out with a blast of hellfire, which bounced off of a hastily raised shield from Clea.

Battlestar stood in awe, watching the battle between the mystics... and wondering what he could possibly do to help. Hannibal King stood beside him, ever watchful for a new opponent.

"Good job against Solarr," the vampire commented.

"Thanks," Lemar responded, not completely understanding how he had survived the ordeal.

He glanced back over to the fight with Mephisto. There was still a very good chance that he wouldn't be surviving... and there wouldn't be very much he could do either way to determine his own fate.

He simply had to watch, and wait. And hope... hope was something he could do plenty of.

He looked over to the charred remains of Craig Hollis, waiting for the incredible Mr. Immortal to hop to his feet with a spring in his step... but thus far, the body had simply stayed put. And still.

"Is he going to..." Lemar started.

Hannibal shook his head, "I don't think he will." he replied gravely, "Granted, I don't know a lot about the extent of his abilities... but that looks pretty bad."

Lemar nodded reluctantly, taking his eyes back to the living... and the living's only hope.

"I don't imagine you'd care to explain yourself?" Cecilia Reyes asked, her arms folded purposefully in front of her.

"You'd assume right," Jennifer March answered defiantly, "Besides - we're still not out of the woods yet."

Lifeforce glanced over to where the Dragons were gathering, high above the awaiting Maximus, who was waving Valkyrie's sword in the air, and spouting things that were making her ears hurt.

"We'll talk about this later then," Cecilia offered, hoping that Jennifer fully realized what she was doing by taking on the costumed persona of Hellcat, the alter ego of Patsy Walker. She glanced over to where Isaac was standing, clearly concerned about the situation.

"Now - or later," Jennifer responded, " My answer won't change."

"I would imagine that it would," whispered a cold voice at her shoulder.

As the new Hellcat turned, a dark figure reached his cold hand toward her, offering the same fate he had imposed on her predecessor.

"DeathUrge!" Isaac Christians shouted in horror, "You're supposed to be dead! *"

(* As of Defenders #155 - GD)

There was an amusement in DeathUrge's voice when he replied, "Aren't we all?"

Hellcat jumped back from his swipe of doom, keeping a distance from the harbinger of death.

Cecilia spotted Northstar break off from his protective flight pattern around the spot where Moondragon and Timeslip were preparing... she shook her head sharply, causing him to return to his sentinel duty. She looked off in the other direction, hoping that her sight wasn't failing her, and that her faith would be rewarded.

Events were coming to a head. She still could not be certain of the outcome, but it was clear enough that whatever it would be, would come soon. Mephista sat on her throne of bones, feeling the magicks at work. Time and mind were already converging, their force being used to bridge the distance between the two groups... magicks would be imployed soon, unless, she chuckled, she provided her own.

Mephista reached out beyond time and space, playing with the subtle strings of the universe, plucking each lightly but with firm fingers. She could feel it in the air, the anticipation that radiated from the two creatures called Moonstone and Timeslip, the two mortal creatures playing god. They were waiting for someone to strike up a lively tune of magic at the other end that would solve their problems. Mephista smiled to herself, as she answered with a cadenza.

Mephisto could feel his own smile faltering against the combined might of Earth's Sorcerer Supreme and The Mistress of Limbo. Alone, he knew he could take either one easily. Clea, although a formidable foe, was still no Stephen Strange. Satanna, no matter her heritage, was still nowhere as experienced as any of her relations. That, and the fact that he felt himself holding back against her... He felt the eyes of Set upon him, waiting for him to falter, waiting for an excuse to devour him as he had done the others.

At first, Mephisto had played with the idea that the dark one had been rewarding betrayal, or incompetence... however a different idea had infiltrated his twisted mind. "He's using us," Mephisto realized, "Using us up, and disposing of us one by one." He felt the eyes of Set upon him, and wondered if there was anything that he could do to forestall his own fate...

He felt something in the air, a shift, a change of some sort... he couldn't completely put his finger upon it, but there was something in motion. He reached out with a small portion of his consciousness, exploring the gaps that his two opponents had left in their attacks. He reached out, and felt his daughter's hand on events... he felt it, and smiled.

Perhaps there was hope after all - or, at least, he would not fall alone.

Set watched in delight, feeling the change in the air - feeding on the sheer chaos. DeathUrge had finally played his hand. Mephisto was playing his own role, possibly overplaying it. Set kept his eye on the aspect of the Devil. Mephisto was known for his deceit, but like most con men, he could only take those who didn't know who they were truly dealing with.

Set knew... he more than knew.

He felt Mephista's bungling hand attempting to twist things to her own will. He examined her handiwork, wondering for a moment if he should have paid her more mind and personally invited her to take an active part in his endeavor. He took a closer look at the way she had twisted the work of the two Defenders and shook his head in the negative. He had been correct to exclude her; she was far more useful as an outside agent. He reached out, with a maestro's hand... altering her alterations in a far more subtle manner than she would be able to detect. She had the right idea, just not the right attitude.

He laughed to himself, wishing he would be able to see her face when things went south for her, when he emerged triumphant over the forces that had stood in the way to his goal. But then again, he reminded himself, he would at least be able to see her just before she died at his hands... and that would have to suffice.

There were still a couple of things that yet stood in the way though... things that would have to be eliminated. He rose his voice to just above an astral whisper... and invited the Dark God Chthon into the waking world.

He heard the Dragons shriek as the dark hand from the sky scooped them up in their entirety. Maximus the Mad could only stare in awe and calculated envy.

"Pretenders to Hate!" The Dark God Chthon addressed as he crossed over into the mortal plane once more, corrupting the earth beneath his feet. "This plane now belongs to the glory of Chthon! These mortals' deaths belong to Chthon! You too now belong to his glory! You belong to his everlasting hate!"

The Dragons roared in response, fusing together into a Great Dragon of Darkness... lashing out with every ounce of power at their disposal.

The Dark God Chthon stumbled backward, but quickly recovered his footing. "You have spelled your doom!" he bellowed, grabbing the Great Dragon by its throat. "Even such as you shall fall to the might of Chthon!"

Maximus could feel it in his gut... through the link that the Dragons had formed within him - the link through which they had tried to exert their ownership of his body and soul. The Dragons were afraid... it was an emotion that had never truly entered their vocabulary as something that pertained to themselves. They were the creators of the fear, never the receiptant. It intrigued them as much as it unnerved their greater being. He felt them start to phase out of the mortal plane seconds before he could see it with the naked eye.

He stared at the Dark God Chthon, gauging what he would do to his retreating foe. Maximus took a look back to where the Defenders were engaging some dark creature with a scythe. Perhaps he would be content with them, he mused, perhaps he would simply let the Dragons from his sight so that he could get on with his business. It was a gamble.

Maximus chuckled to himself as he resheathed Dragonfang in his own chest. He had gambled his entire life, going against the odds in hopes of gain that never seemed to come. He reached across the divide, grabbing hold of the thin strand that yet connected him to the Dragons... grabbing hold of whatever he could.

He felt them fade completely from the mortal plane... into, something different... he felt his own Inhuman body follow in their wake, riding their figurative tail to whatever lay beyond.

"You can't keep this up forever!" DeathUrge mocked as he hammered at the force field that Lifeforce had extended over herself, Isaac and Hellcat.

"We don't have to," Hellcat returned, "Just long enough... for..."

"I believe she's dramatically pausing for effect," Fandral spoke up from behind the dark figure, "And I believe the next word would be..." "THIS!" Mist spat out through the pain. She slammed her bare palm against DeathUrge's head, holding it there.

DeathUrge screamed, dropping his weapon and to one knee.

"You talk of Death," Mist snarled, "But somehow I doubt that you truly know what it feels like... I doubt that you know what it is like to have it pouring through your very being..."

Fandral glanced at her festering shoulder. She had told him that she was all right, but her face had been completely pale and drained when she said it, giving little credence to her bravado.

DeathUrge continued to scream. She pressed her palm harder into him, leaving an indentation in the back of his skull. "Feel what it like to be on the receiving end for a change," she added, but he was beyond hearing.

DeathUrge dropped the rest of his way to the ground... reeking of death.

Cecilia stared at her in horror. "What did you just do to him... it?"

Mist stared coldly, "No more than it deserved." she answered.

"You're a Valkyrie?" Isaac asked, recognizing her garb.

She nodded.

"Where is Brunnhilde?" Isaac asked.

No one answered him. He started to ask again when the shriek of the departing Dragons reached them.

They turned as one just in time to see Chthon staring at them, with their slow and painful deaths dancing in his eyes.

"Onward!" Daimon Hellstorm, Lord of Hell, yelled as he spurred the steeds that drew his chariot directly into the path of the looming Dark God Chthon.

"Oh my god," He heard the voice that sounded vaguely like that of the Gargoyle exclaim from below.

"Not even close," Daimon joked as he placed his flaming chariot between the Dark God and the Defenders.

He raised his trident, and summoned his black halo forth, declaring for one and all his true nature as the One Ruler of the Vastness That Was Hell.

"Stand aside," Chthon growled. "My conflict is not with you."

Daimon felt the soft touch of Jaine at his shoulder. He gave her a slight smile, hoping that his former friends below would be able to hear his words... hear, and understand. "It is now."

Janet Van Dyne had always felt small and insignificant. It was a simple fact of life that she was shorter than most people. It was by choice that she was the Wasp. Which, by its very nature, made her even smaller on the spectrum. The drawbacks were many... so were the advantages.

One of the major ones being that people tended to forget that you were there, and underestimate the "flying bug" even when they didn't.

She flew in, close to Mephisto, carrying the Pym molecule treated kyanite orb with her. She whispered a private thank you to Timeslip for thinking of that last bit. She had seen the advantages, once explained, of something that absorbed negative energy being enhanced through magic in a battle that promised to be full of negative forces. But she hadn't thought of shrinking it down so she could carry it with her as she flew... so that, she could get close enough...

She enlarged herself to almost her full height - with a wingspan to match.

Clea let loose with a volley of spells, with Satanna keeping her magic indirect at the moment, merely keeping their opponent off guard. Otherwise, Janet mused; the orb might absorb her hell-spawned powers as well... perhaps her entire being. She glanced down into the orb, wondering how Nightmare and the Dweller were enjoying their new home... and wondering what they would think of having company.

Mephisto felt a ball of light hit him in the face despite his countering spell. He looked around in panic... somehow, inexplicably, he was getting weaker... he felt his expanded form slowly shrinking.

He howled to the dark powers, looking around frantically for whoever was draining him.

He smiled when he caught a glimpse of the Wasp near his left ear, carrying some sort of orb.

He felt himself being drawn into it.

Clea unleashed another spell against him, binding his arms with energy bands. He tensed his muscles, pooling his might and broke free... at the cost of more of his being. The more power he used, the faster the orb seemed to be draining it away.

He howled again and swatted at the potentially deadly pest. The Wasp flitted out of range.

Mephisto didn't feel the other presence until it was too late.

Set simply stepped in behind his depleting form with a "We can't have that."

Mephisto felt his energy literally being torn apart in two directions. Part of him was going toward the orb; the other part was being absorbed into the greater Set.

The one who was called the Lord of Lies examined his options, the orb or Set... and shifted his being in the direction of his dark master.

Set smiled as he absorbed what was left of Mephisto, as the physical form of the demon vanished from existence. He looked up at the Wasp, and tipped his figurative hat.

Battlestar slammed his shield into the back of his head. Set shrugged it off, turning around and grabbing the energy shield in both hands. "Amusing" he said, tearing it from Lemar's hands without effort, "Bordering on funny." He turned to Battlestar with a smile, "But not quite."

He flung the shield back into the man in midnight blue, catching him in the stomach. Lemar Hoskins went down without a sound. Set turned back to the assembled heroes, as he felt Satanna and Clea, combining with Timeslip, begin their part of the coming folly... he smiled to himself, continuing to keep his pretense. "Who's next?" he asked, and was answered only by the silence.

The hands of power reached out to each other, grabbing each other tightly. Time and space merged, for a moment, spanning the distance, shifting the entire host from Times Square to reunite with those in front of what remained of the Sanctum of Stephen Strange... in theory.

Mephista smiled as she felt the spell take effect...transporting BOTH teams of Defenders, and their opponents... into the depths of Hell itself.

She laughed to herself at the irony - Hell was always coming to Earth. It only fit that this time a bit of Earth should instead come to Hell.

She felt the Defenders themselves, unable to fight what they had not detected until too late, transported against their will. She felt her addition consuming the one calling himself Set and the Dark God Chthon as well... felt it, until she no longer did.

She stared blankly for a moment, waiting to feel their presence in Hell... but was met with only their absence.

She peered back to Earth, finding them face to face instead.

Daimon Hellstorm, the Lord of Hell, was uncounted for as well... there was no telling what had happened to him during the process. Perhaps she had unwittingly cleared herself a spot at the head of the pantheon of Hell... perhaps...

The tips of the trident of the bearer of the Black Halo pressed against her throat.

She looked up to see the snarling face of Daimon Hellstorm looming above her suddenly helpless form.

"I would not suggest," Hellstorm warned, his eyes blazing with hellfire, "That you interfere with the dealings of your betters ever again."

Mephista wanted to nod in agreement, but knew that doing so would only drive her throat into the points. Instead, she gulped. The Lord of Hell nodded in acknowledgement and vanished from her presence.

Mephista, daughter of the Lord of Lies, shuffled off the nearest corner to ponder her next move... and to shake uncontrollably for a very long time.

"Oh god," Isaac Christians muttered, "Not this again!"

Mist looked around her, "It feels like the depths of Hades... only worse." she declared.

"Isaac?" Clea asked, in wonderment, at seeing her old friend returned in a new, younger body, "I know this isn't the best time for this... but, my god!" she said with a smile.

He smiled back, "Yeah - that's a story for later."

"Hulk hate smelly place..." he mumbled to himself. Hannibal King put his hand on the confused giant's shoulder, "Believe me old friend," he said with a smile, "I couldn't agree with you more on that one."

Northstar raced over to embrace a startled Wasp in a bear hug. "Looking good Jan," he said with affection.

She smiled brightly, "Why Jean-Paul, I do believe you've actually missed me!"

Northstar dropped his hands to his side, "Nothing of the sort." he replied, straight-faced, before breaking out in a smile again, resuming his hug, "You'll never guess half of what we've been up to over the last couple of months..."

Janet smiled, "Neither would you," she said, "Neither would you."

The younger Rina Patel held the infant Paul Morrow in her arms as she approached her older self.

"This isn't..." she started.

Her older self merely smiled, "I guess you'll just have to wait and see," she replied, before breaking off to speak to Moondragon.

Heather Douglas, the Titan trained Moondragon stared at Jennifer March for a moment, "I hope you know what you're doing, wearing that costume."

With Fandral supporting Mist at her side, the new Hellcat nodded, "I know enough to know what I don't know about this." she replied. Heather nodded with a slight smile, "A good start," she replied, more to herself than anyone else, "A good start."

"Do I know you?" Lifeforce asked Satanna. "You look awfully familiar."

The Princess of Hell only smiled, keeping a few steps away, hoping that the life giving powers of Cecilia Reyes would not react negatively to her own Hell spawned abilities.

She looked over to where the older Rina Patel was talking with Moondragon, considering approaching, but dismissed it, knowing Moondragon would surely know who she was.

"What's Satanna doing here?" Isaac muttered to Clea.

Clea looked at him sternly, "Being a Defender," she answered.

He looked at her for a moment, wanting to press the issue, but relented when he saw the look in the eyes of the new Sorcerer Supreme. "Good enough for me." he said finally.

Satanna stood at the edge of the group, staring out into her brother's realm, wondering when he would arrive to acknowledge their coming. A hand fell on her shoulder.

Wha..." she started in surprise as she turned, wondering what new question or lingering doubts she would have to field next.

She was met by the smiling face of the younger, and very pregnant Rina Patel. "Hi - I'm Rina." she said, holding out her hand with an innocent enthusiasm.

Satanna smiled as she took her hand, "Nice to finally meet you," she answered, "My name is Satanna."

She glanced over to where the older Timeslip was talking to Moondragon. The older version was looking over with a smile on her face, nodding in approval.

They stood in the midst of Hell, old friends and new, Defenders all... waiting for an end that was surely coming...

What was left of the Dark God Chthon fell at his feet. Set kicked it away as an afterthought.

With the powers of Hela, Belasco, Kulan Gath and Mephisto combined with his own growing might... he had been able to surprise the Bastion of Hate by going toe to toe with him. More to the point, he had been able to keep the Dark One busy while he absorbed his being...

"And now - for the final step," he chuckled with glee, "My time is at last here! Set shall have his revenge."

"If you're going to go around talking in the third person," Cloud commented as he/she unleashed the Phoenix force, "You should at least use your real name."

Set batted aside the bird of fire. "Ah," he said with delight, "An actual surprise. How delightful."

"I doubt you're going to be delighted for long." Janine De Loup declared, unleashing her own piece of Gaea toward her new foe.

He staggered back for a moment, but quickly regained his footing. Devil Slayer charged forward with his sword, hoping to finish him... but Set grabbed the sword from his hand before he could strike.

"Eric Simon Payne" Set proclaimed, "I was wondering what had ever became of you." he threw the sword back at Devil Slayer, deliberately barely missing hitting him in the head. Devil Slayer stopped in his tracks, staring. "Still as pathetic as ever." Set declared after a moment of appraisal, "It's nice to see that some things never change." Set giggled to himself, a giggle full of childlike mischief, "But then again, I guess some things really DO change..." he declared, turning his attention to Chloe Boudreaux, "Like the fact that the four of you are going to die at my hand... I'd say that was a pretty big change, wouldn't you?"

Chloe started toward him... but stopped when the voice came out of the sky.

"STAND ASIDE MORTALS"

They looked up to see the descending chariot driven by Daimon Hellstorm, the Lord of Hell.

He stared at Cloud for a moment, then nodded in recognition, "Retrieve the Defenders from Hell," orders falling from his lips freely.

Cloud stared back at him for a moment, then back at Set, before nodding. He/she enfolded the rest of the group in wings of fire and teleported away... leaving the Daimon Hellstorm and the man called Set to stand face to face.

"Hello Father," Daimon said calmly.

"Set" smiled, shifting out of his green suit disguise, and into the more comfortable form of the horned Devil, Satan.

"I was wondering how long it would take you..."

"I'd know your foul stench anywhere..."

"You flatter me."

"No, you flatter me. I assume that all this, the attack on the Defenders, the gathering of your dark army - I assume that this was all to get me here."

"Now you flatter yourself."

"But I'm also right."

Satan nodded with a smile, "I never claimed that you weren't. Although gaining power once more, enough to strike you down, was certainly a perk."

"That remains to be seen." Daimon replied coldly.

"Yes, yes it does..."

"I do have to say that Death seems to have done wonders for your inflated self-worth."

"As life has done for you my son."

"So, where did we leave off?"

"I believe you had killed me *."

(* Between Marvel's Hellstorm #11 and #12 - GD)

Daimon nodded, "Ah yes, I remember that quite fondly."

Satan smiled as he raised his hand to strike; "Now I think I'll repay the favor."

“YOU!"

"YOU!"

Clea and Lifeforce put themselves into between the newly arrived Janine De Loup and Satanna. "Stand down!" Lifeforce ordered, "If what Chloe here is saying is true, we haven't got the time to settle our petty squabbles.

"Petty squabbles!" Janine barked, "Do you have any idea of who she is? Do you know what she's done??? To MY FAMILY! *"

(* As seen in the pages of MV1's Ghost Rider - GD)

Satanna looked at her, regaining her calm, "They are doing fine."

"You witch!" Janine screamed, attempting to unleash the power of Gaea at the object of her hatred.

She felt the power remain within her.

"I wouldn't try that again," Satanna warned, "Not here of all places. Gaea isn't the most welcome person in Hell. I however..."

"Cool it!" The Wasp ordered, "Unless you want to find yourself back on the wrong side again."

Satanna looked down at the former Avenger, the fire dying in her eyes. "As you wish." She stared down for a moment longer, then looked away.

"What is she doing here?" Janine demanded, "Why is she with you?"

"It's a long story," Isaac explained, "Although I could ask the same of you." he turned to where Cloud was standing, "ESPECIALLY you. What are you doing here?"

Cloud stared back at him, "As you said, we don't have the time right now for explanations. Perhaps later," He/she offered.

Isaac nodded, "Yeah," he said, "I'd love to hear this one."

"Talk talk talk" The Hulk mocked, "When is Hulk going to get to pound something?!?"

Devil Slayer turned to him with a smile, "Soon old friend - soon."

They gathered together, with the powers of the Phoenix and Clea humming throughout the depths of Hell... spanning the distance to the mortal plane... transporting them from the fires of Hell to the brimstone on Earth.

Interlude 4

He stood at his window, looking out at the beauty of the heart of time itself. He studied the spirals, the loops, even the lines that just kept moving into infinity... the fabric of time itself. He studied the moments, for a moment, before turning back to his master.

"There is much I do not understand," The young man said, breaking the years long silence between the two.

"As it should be," The old man known as Halcyon replied, "After all, that is why I am the teacher and you the pupil."

The young man nodded, "Of course," he replied, "But I do not understand your fascination with this particular time period, nor with that particular grouping of mortals."

Halcyon looked at the spot in time that his pupil was pointing to. "Ah," he said, once he realized. "You want to know WHY I am so interested in the Defenders then?"

"Yes." The pupil replied, "I've checked throughout the near cross-sections of time, and they really aren't all that remarkable compared to other groupings of mortals."

Halcyon laughed, "So it must seem to one so young..." he explained, "But look closer. Look at the shape of their struggles, the pathways of their lives."

The pupil did as he was asked. He stared for a long moment before looking back to his teacher, "Curious." he said.

Halcyon nodded, "Most mortal groupings have a specific time they are of. The Avengers. Invaders. Kree. Guardians of the Galaxy. They exist for a certain period in history, some longer than others... some glowing more brightly than the others... but the Defenders..."

"Are marked on the horizon." The pupil offered, "Although I'm not sure what that means."

The teacher smiled, "The fate of the Defenders is never to reach that potential innate in all creatures - they never really reach their zenith, but rather find themselves constantly oriented to the horizon."

"But what does that mean? I mean, really?"

"It means that their time will never be reached, that they will always be another struggle to overcome, another wrong to right. The horizon of time can never be gained, it can never be touched, it is always just a little further away."

"So you have told me."

"So you will learn during your own time with the Defenders." Halcyon said with a smile.

"Is that time soon?" The pupil asked.

"Soon is all relative to such as us." The teacher scolded, "It will be soon enough."

The pupil nodded, "You said that the Defenders are on the horizon..." "More OF the horizon than ON."

"Of the horizon..."The pupil corrected himself, "But how can that be - are they not creatures of the past?"

Halcyon shook his head firmly, staring out into the intersecting twists and turns of time. "No." he replied, "That is one thing they are not."

"Then what are they?"

Halcyon smiled, "They are the future," he said simply, before turning and walking away, leaving his young pupil behind, to continue, to grow and learn.

End Interlude 4

"Daimon!" Isaac Christians screamed as he reappeared on Earth. Seeing his old friend, his old master, brought up mixed emotions. He glanced over to where Jennifer March was standing in outfit of Hellstorm's former wife, the Hellcat. Her expression stayed fixed firmly on her face. It was one of curiosity, rather than fear - of thought rather than emotion.

He was even more mixed in his feelings toward the situation. The figure Isaac recognized as being Satan stood over his fallen friend, who was struggling to his feet. Satan was laughing, and moving in for the kill.

On one hand, it was a fitting end to someone who had been a monster in the last few years... on the other hand, this was Satan they were talking about, killing someone who despite conflicts, had once been counted a friend.

Daimon Hellstorm looked up at the coming of the Defenders and smiled. He locked eyes with his former slave. "Do it" he whispered, his voice echoing in Isaac's soul.

Isaac turned back to his assembled teammates, "All right people - this is it!" he commanded, drawing his frail mortal form up, "Let's show him what it means to be Defenders!"

A cheer rose from the masses as they rushed forward toward Satan.

The dark one turned away from his fallen son, smiling at his oncoming foes. "How pathetic." he said, lashing out with a ball of fire.

Satanna, at the fore, batted it aside, "You're going to have to do better than that Father." she declared.

Satan smiled back at her, "If you insist." he said, unleashing something far more deadly.

Lemar Hoskins, Battlestar, stumbled to his feet, shaking his head to get rid of the spots in front of his eyes. "He took me down like an amateur." Lemar muttered to himself, "Maybe I am."

He heard the sounds of battle, following them with his eyes. The Defenders, plus a large group of others, were fighting against some sort of big demon. Lemar shrugged as he found where his shield had fallen. "Guess that's about par for course." he said, running toward the action.

Northstar fell from the sky, burning. He hit the ground, and rolled, hoping to exhaust his flaming costume. Doing so, he glanced around the battlefield. Isaac was down, as was Hannibal King, Hellcat, Chloe and one of the Timeslips. He couldn't tell which one it was... he glanced over to where one was still holding a baby behind a shield. He nodded; it was the older one that had fallen then.

Lifeforce and Cloud had joined hands, unleashing the brunt of the Phoenix Force onto Satan, who seemed to be drinking it in.

Clea was hammering him with spells, but they didn't seem to be doing much of anything against him.

Moondragon was on the ground, holding her head, trying to keep back the invading darkness that seemed to be threatening to consume her.

The Hulk was pounding into the giant Satan's calf, as was Satanna... nothing seemed to phase him... it was as though...

He looked around for the Wasp; she was nowhere to be seen. Jean-Paul smiled, and took to the air again, resuming his role in the distraction.

At the signal, Satanna drew back from her father, reluctantly. The Hulk pressed his attack harder for her absence.

Daimon Hellstorm rose to his feet, grabbing up his trident from the ground. He stared at the Defenders, and at once, realized their gambit. His father though, seemed to not be noticing it.

"Better that he does not." Daimon whispered to himself, expanding his own form to match that of his father, "Better to give him something else to worry about."

"Have at!" Fandral screamed, as his blade cut into Satan's toes. The former lord of Hell kicked the Asgardian away. Mist raged forward to take his place.

Satan roared with a mix of fury and pain as Daimon's trident penetrated his back. "Back for more whelp?" Satan declared, turning to face his son.

"Back to deal with you once and for all..." Daimon declared, spotting the Wasp approach.

"Are you sure?" she mouthed.

He nodded slightly.

She returned the gesture, growing to near her full height.

Daimon Hellstorm grabbed onto his father's shoulders, holding tight. He unleashed the full power of the Black Halo unto its former host. Satan released his stolen might as a response.

The assembled Defenders covered their eyes from the dark display of power... its energy crackling around them... knocking back the Hulk and Mist from their assault. The energy crackling, and being pulled into the kyanite orb in the Wasp's tender hands.

She closed her eyes tightly against the assault on her senses, hoping that it would be enough - and that Satan would be too occupied to take notice of her until it was too late.

Daimon and Satan screamed and clawed at each other with their free hands... bloodying each other in more than a physical way, their mighty forms shrinking as they did so, faster with the more energy that they depleted from their beings.

Their screams filled the air. Satan, realizing what was going on, sought to escape from his son's grasp. "You cannot do this to ME!" he declared, attempting to break away.

Daimon held him tightly, refusing to budge. "Yes we can." he said coldly, "And we will. You must be stopped, no matter what the cost."

"Even yourself?" Satan hissed, looking for his opportunity.

Daimon nodded. "That's what being a Defender is all about." he answered, as the last of his energy and that of his father swirled its way into the orb.

Janet opened her eyes, staring at the two men in front of her, hanging onto each other for support.

The depleted Satan pushed Daimon away, "I kept enough," he said defiantly, "Enough to hold myself together, in reserve, you have failed!"

His son stumbled and fell to the ground, completely drained.

"I wouldn't say that," a voice came from behind, as the shield of Battlestar crashed into the back of Satan's skull.

The former Lord of Hell fell to the ground, with what little remained of his being flowing up to the orb in Janet's hands... leaving not even dust in its wake.

Battlestar reached down to help Daimon Hellstorm to his feet. The now mortal Lord of Hell muttered his appreciation.

Lemar smiled to his teammates, "Does this mean that we've won?"

Clea stared at the man in his arms, then over to where Mr. Immortal's charred body still lay, she looked over her wounded comrades, with her eyes finally coming to the remains of the Sanctum of Stephen Strange, she shook her head, "I wish I could answer that Lemar," she replied, wiping the tears and sweat from her face, "I really wish that I could."

NEXT: That's right - after the big issue #200, there's still a next issue*g*! What's going to be in it? I guess you better come back and see!

And now, since you've been so good and eaten all your veggies - a special back-up story!

He picked the lice out of his hair, placing them on his tongue...feeling them squirm around before finally crunching down on the tender bits.

He stood for a moment, scratching at his butt, wondering what to do next. He eyed his feet... staring intently. Perhaps they would try something... perhaps they were out to get him. Maybe he would have to strike first.

Maybe he would have to...

He went upright, stretching to see what was going on.

Someone was coming... more than one someone in fact.

He scampered up the nearest tree, hiding in the branches.

"Monkey!" one of them called, "Hey Monkey!"

"Thou are bordering on high treason mortal" his companion warned.

"Is he a monkey?" the first one asked, "Did we want him to come out and see us?"

His companion seemed unconvinced, "Still - it is hardly the way to address one's sovereign."

Craig Hollis, the amazing Mr. Immortal shrugged it off, "He's not MY sovereign."

Fandral the Dashing, famed throughout the known worlds as a member of the Warriors Three, shook his head. "He IS mine" he countered, "and I take this thing seriously."

"You take someone turning Balder the Brave into a monkey SERIOUSLY?" a gruff voice came from behind. "I would have thought you would be laughing your head off."

Fandral turned with a forced smile, "Somethings, my dear Dr. Banner, fail to amuse even me."

Dr. Robert Bruce Banner, the man behind the mass of moving destruction known as the Incredible Hulk, smiled. "It is pretty funny though..."

Fandral kept his expression perfectly straight, "I fail to find the humor." he said, looking straight ahead.

"What I want to know though, is how he got into Central Park?" Ororo Munroe, the mutant mistress of the tempest known as Storm queried of no one in particular.

"He came for the Polish Springs?" Mr. Immortal quipped, "He stayed for the Nathan's?"

"We have to find him before someone else does." Fandral said, ignoring his comrade.

"Where would we go finding a monkey in the middle of Central Park?" Banner wondered aloud.

"Check the zoo?" Ororo offered.

"Maybe we could get a giant banana..." Craig pondered aloud.

"Maybe we could get someone to turn YOU into a monkey..." Fandral said, raising his left eyebrow slightly.

Craig looked over to his companion with a sudden burst of glee, "Do you think we could???? That would be so cool... I could fling my own feces... and...hang upside down... and... and... fight the Champions to a stand still and..."

"Forget I mentioned it" Fandral said, trying hard not to smile... trying oh so hard. After all, this was serious business... of a sort.

It was the sort of serious business that required allies.

Allies of a unique sort.

The kind of allies that went by the name of

Greenwich - The Sanctum of Stephen Strange

She stared out the window, looking for rain.

Not so much as looking, but hoping. Maybe if it rained, it would lessen the change that anyone would actually see them. Not that she was ashamed of them... far from it...well, maybe not that far from the mark - but they were the best she currently had at her disposal.

With Stephen busy - and being on the outs with the Defenders as it was *, she didn't want to bother Isaac and the others with what seemed so... well, silly. Not that someone turning the Light of Asgard into a monkey and dumping him in Central Park was silly... well, not too silly... no, Clea decided after a moment, it was pretty damn silly.

Certainly too silly to call the Avengers in on - or Thor. Granted, he was another heir of Asgard who'd wandered around New York for a bit in a rather humiliating form **. But still... he was a busy guy.

(* Which may or may not give you a decent idea of the time frame that this story occured. ** He was turned into a frog...yes, a frog. No, I wish I was, but I'm not joking... - GD)

She had gathered the team before certainly - following in Stephen's footsteps, to handle things that other groups just weren't prepared to deal with. The Very Odd Case of Dormmanu's Debacle came to mind as one of their... finer(?) moments. Mr. Immortal had actually managed to fall onto Wolverine's claws during that fight, several times. It had taken them a few minutes to catch on, and it was finally Captain Marvel himself who had stopped the man who couldn't be killed from actually JUMPING in the little hairy mutant's way.

This time was proving to be no different. Other than, of course, the fact that they were operating in broad daylight and trying to track down a monkey in the middle of one of the largest public parks in North America. Other than that, which really shouldn't have surprised her all that much when she got right down to it... things were going pretty much as she had expected.

She watched the sky, wondering if she should just push a cloud this way or that. But then Ororo would sense it and counteract her magic. There were somethings that even spells weren't much use against. Women who were in many ways Goddesses of the Tempest were on the top of that list, at least when it came to putting your will against theirs in weather control.

Central Park

Balder the Monkey swung over to the next tree, then the next. It was certainly a great deal of fun, this being a monkey.

Certainly better, he reasoned, then oh say getting hit by a sprig of mistletoe - which he had been. More of them than he could count.

In fact, if it hadn't been for the unlikely coincedence of being transformed into a monkey during that barrage - he would have been forced to risefrom the dead, again.

And if there was one thing he hated - as a man as well as a monkey - it was rising from the dead.

That bit was probably the least appealing part of being the Sun of Asgard. Everyone was constantly trying to kill him just to see if they could bring about THE END. After all, he was supposed to rise when it was all over and build the new kingdom, even better than the old one, right? So why not, they reasoned, take him out now and get on with it already...

Balder shook his head. He hated those people, and often asked Karnalla to see what she could have done about them. A favor for a "favor" after all...

But this being a monkey, in and of itself, was pretty darn neat. He flung himself toward the ground, catching himself at the last possible moment with his prehensile tail. He briefly considered running around the park showing off how he stroked his "Heir Apparent" to the monkey crown... but decided against it... at least for now, perhaps later, he decided in his little monkey brain. Perhaps latter.

"He's over there" Ororo said with certainly, her head raised to the wind.

"Do you use the wind to locate him?" Dr. Banner asked.

"Or just following the smell of monkey butt?" Craig wondered.

Fandral stared at the sky, "I had thought most of Midgard did smell of such." he carefully moved his hand to cover his widening grin.

"Hey!" Craig exclaimed.

" I second that 'hey'" Banner added,"Although considering we're in New York I might have to forgive you...."

Ororo shook her head. "I actually saw him - or thought I did...over in those trees." she said, pointing to a nearby cluster.

Much Later

Clea stared into the cage that Balder the monkey was doing his level best to turn into a pigs sty. Or more accurately, into a monkey's cage. She could only hope that Stephen would be gone awhile longer so she could sort everything out.

"... and that's when I said to Eternity - hey, man who gave you that giant moustache anyway? *" Mr. Immortal was recounting in the other room, she stuck her head out to see what trouble the Secret Defenders were getting themselves into...

(* Extra points to anyone who knows! - GD)

Storm was sitting on the couch, looking very much at ease. Even Bruce Banner, who's alter ego had often called the sanctum the "stupid magician's house" seemed to be making himself at home.

"What did he say then?" Wong, Stephen's friend and former man servant, inquired, leaning forward.

Mr. Immortal shook his head, "He didn't get to say much of anything - since that was right when Paste Pot Pete attacked us."

"Isn't he the Trapster these days?" Bruce asked.

"Isn't he dead?" Ororo added.

Bruce shook his head, "Not that I know of - its just he might as well be."

"He was calling himself Paste Pot Pete, no matter who he was... and he walloped Eternity so hard that his top hat fell off..."

"Top hat?" Fandral asked.

Craig nodded, "Yeah - that was back when Eternity was wearing that big magician's hat..."

"And the fake moustache right?' Bruce added.

"Yeah," Craig revealed, "Something to due with the fact that he wasn't too good at playing chess..."

Clea watched them in the other room for a moment, before turning back to the monkey at hand.

She muttered a few words, and made a few passes with her left hand over the cage.

Then she reached down and undid the latch.

The monkey heir of Asgard literally leapt at the opportunity... he slammed against the door before she could open it... knocking the barred door the rest of the way open.

He shrieked in delight, and jumped from his cage onto the floor.

His feet touched the floor... and the monkey froze in his tracks. He shrieked one more time... as he was transformed once again into Balder the Brave.

"You have my thanks" Balder declared, "If not for your spells I would have..."

Clea put a single finger to her lips and motioned for him to move closer to the door, "Those are the people you need to thank. If it wasn't for them, you would have been on the loose in New York longer than the window I had to perform the spell.

"Then I must go thank them...."

Clea listened to the sound of Bruce Banner's laughter as Craig Hollis went into another one of his exploits. She looked at Ororo Munroe lounging on the couch... saw the smile on Fandral's face... and the dreamy look in Wong's eyes as he took it all in. She turned back to Balder, "Then let them be for a while... there is time for thank yous later... for now, just let them be..."

First, a couple about previous issues from Steve Crosby!

Ok, now you're just making this ridiculous. Mephisto, Hela, the Dragons, at least three Kangs (I know they're controlled by one, but still) Halycyon, the Crime Cartel, the Moonguard, Maximus and Hulk, Chython, Nightmare, the Dark Dweller, some guy called Godot, Hellstorm,. Mephista, and I don't know how many others, all dog-piling on the Defenders. Unless that's an Ultimate Nullifier Lorna's making, I just don't see how they can win. I might as well make my guess as to who the man in green is. Someone that Mephisto, Hela, Hellstorm, and Chython all fear. It's too much to hope it's that Godot guy that got mentioned. I'm gonna say Dr. Doom! He has a green cloak, and he's second-in-line for Sorceror Supreme. He's also the ultimate badass who once beat Mephisto at his own game, so he'd would be feared by even these heavyweights. Plus, its about time he focused more on his magical heritage. I predict that either: a) Greg, the new Sorceror Supreme, appears for the big battle; b) the conflict between him and Chython occurs in his own book (like when you take over); or c) that you and Will have a crossover planned. I'm gonna have to pick a title quick, so we could plan something huge together. (Maybe Avengers or AWC, I have a massive MOE story in my head!) So far, Gary, my head is starting to hurt. So many characters! Defenders 200 will probably end up being longer than Jess Nevins' Liberators 25 (and that's including all the extra story pages)! But hey, I've read the whole Wheel of Time series in one week, so I can take it!

Wise Steve Solomon, hurt that his earlier letter wasn't in the issue.

Now one from MV1's poster boy - Sam Everett.

What's up, The God (that's your new nickname, by the way--don't let it go to your head)! : )

Sam Everett

We even got a very flattering letter from the one and only Bob Gansler!!!! (If you haven't been reading his Space Squadron serial here at MV1 - you NEED to!)

Gary,

Sam Everett

We even got a very flattering letter from the one and only Bob Gansler!!!! (If you haven't been reading his Space Squadron serial here at MV1 - you NEED to!)

Gary,

Bob

Thank you to everyone who took the time to write in with their comments about the Defenders. I appreciate the support. Thank you also to both Barry Reese and Jason Snyder for various responses they've given me over the last few issues that I received but quite frankly couldn't find in time to make this issue! *g* Sorry guys!

Send mail to: Gary Dreslinski