E8: Flash #5

[Spider-Man Beyond]

E8: Flash #5

Written by Jollyoldsaint
Edited by Daniel Dyer (Spider-Man Beyond)

Rip Hunter cracked his fingers.

"That's right, magic. It's real. Just like time and space machines. Also the afterlife, though that's considerably less complicated."

Rip's leg bent suddenly, as if someone with an invisible appendage was attempting to trip him. The seemingly disembodied head of Argus Kovak did little to hide his childish act of violence. With a grunt, the head floated up, presumably because Argus had taken to a standing position.

"Sturdier than you look... magic, eh? Why not, seen stranger. Myself included. But you don't look psychic. So how'd you know the invasion would strike a chord? The report on the '82 crisis was forged. No one outside of IITYIHTKY and this nut here should know what really happened. But if you're from the future... did they really break the deal, then? Did they come back?"

The young Hunter's confident expression turned to one of alarm. "Come back?! What are you... no... you've seen them?! That can't be right. 1982? They don't appear until... unless... no, it's impossible... we'd have known... wouldn't we? Aagh, the detailed records are in the old ship! Bullocks on a sharp stick! LL should've re-"

"They came back?!" Roy Bivolo interrupted. "What do you mean, they came back?! After the deal? After everything I went through?! They actually..."

John Fox stopped listening when the boy mentioned magic. He rubbed his head, having recently used it to cushion the impact of the cell wall. Feeling the absence of his hair, he couldn't help but feel irritated by the recent events in his life.

Tapping his right foot, John rubbed harder on his scalp. As he did this he felt something familiar. Not that it mattered to Fox; he was surrounded by useless neanderthals and a time-traveling vigilante magician. He knew the name "Hunter" was familiar; the youth's profile was stored at the Museum of Time. John never gave it a second glance, but he recalled the boy was killed at eleven. Yet there he was, in his teen years at the least. None of it made sense. John's anger swelled as he rubbed harder.

A crackle alerted the room of what John was doing.

Roy paused for a moment. He then cursed in several languages while repeatedly glancing to and away from Fox.

Rip Hunter seemed preoccupied talking to himself, but eventually he too flinched at the sight of the 27th century man.

Argus merely whistled as he stared at the blue and black suited Fox.

John needed no mirror to tell him what had happened. His greatest friend and worst bit of luck had both returned at once. Fox's arm was still twitching erratically, though he could feel the surge of power fading.

Unsure of what else to say, John asked, "How's it look?"

Bivolo continued cursing.

Argus' head faded out of sight as he turned away.

"You already look like a wanker with a floating bit of lightning," Rip stated after a moment. "That in mind, your hair looks fine. Black, pretty long. Sticks up straight, looks like it came from a cartoon. Messed up down the middle, there's a gray stripe. Which oddly curves like a lightning bolt... all in all, could've been worse. But try it again and you might go bald for good. Thanks for confirming that I’ve got the right guy… Back to business, Argus, what happened in 1982? What kind of invaders did you see? What did they loo-"

Hunter was interrupted by a woman's voice echoing throughout the ship.

“Rip! He found us!"
"Rip! He found us!"
"Rip! He found us!"

Rip snapped his fingers.

"Snick, snack, snorum!"

John Fox fell over and lost consciousness. After staggering, cursing, and nearly punching the underage Hunter, Roy also fell. Assuming his spell worked on the unaccountable Argus, Rip ran back into the halls of the Clock King. The energy-based wall of the cell closed once more. Argus Kovak, who had followed Rip to his freedom, wisely suppressed his snicker.

It appeared that magic could not change a person biologically incapable of sleeping.

* * *

[Spider-Man Beyond]

The box factory in the lawless section of Keystone was a poorly hidden front for a fine art factory. It was there that Cain Dables made his fortune in machine-manufactured counterfeit masterpieces. He joined the Network organization as a means to escape the ruined and emptied Keystone, so he was naturally disappointed when the Network had him watch over the group which ruined and emptied Keystone.

An abnormally large man, Cain supported himself with a candy-shaped cane. Whenever asked, he claimed it was to lighten spirits. Afterwards he would pointedly beat to death whoever asked about it. His employees found his humor slightly confusing, especially as Cain preferred to be called "Candyman". He would also beat to death whoever asked him about this title.

The crime lord yawned as the screams around his office grew louder. Keystone's upstart group of thieves appeared to have lost their will to cooperate with the Network. The Candyman hardly raised an eyebrow as an armed man walked out of a portrait in his office.

"Guess I'm here first," said Evan McCulloch, the self-proclaimed Mirror Master.

Cain merely smiled, unconcerned by the green-and-orange clad Scotsman or the strange gun in his hand.

"Quite. Then tell me, Mister... Mirror Master, was it? What's small and furry and goes faster than a racecar?" Cain asked.

"Eh? Well, a mongoose," McCulloch answered. "Wee bastards'll claw your eyes like, wait, where are ye going with this? You aren't gonna riddle your way out of this like the last guy..."

The Candyman pointed behind McCullogh.

Feeling clever, McCullogh shot a ring on the white-suited villain's hand. As Cain was being sucked into the ring's reflective world, McCullough spun around to find the most hideous creature he had ever seen in his life.

* * *

[Spider-Man Beyond]

Rip pressed his watch in while dashing to the bridge of the Clock King.

"I need extra hands! One, two, and skip a few! Emergency formation!"

A white haze seeped out of the watch. In moments the mist turned into several copies of Hunter. Fully clothed, these copies made several more copies. Argus had to double back to avoid them. Not wanting to push his luck, the invisible Argus then decidedly followed a different path than the original Hunter.

Dodging whenever a duplicate passed, Argus began looking for anything along the lines of an escape shuttle. He was put off by the metal doors and poorly marked areas.

Locked... locked... locked... alien warning sticker... locked... wait, that was Hebrew. And still locked. Hey, what have we got here?

One of Rip's doubles had opened a door to a room with four spires. Intrigued, Argus stepped inside. He was then disoriented with a strikingly familiar sensation. It had been so long he almost forgot it, but he knew the feeling. The light of a sun was in this room.

Argus' body was held by means beyond standard human conception. He could shift every cell in his body to match his surroundings. Theoretically this would make him intangible, but his fears of falling through the Earth kept a semi-physical form. Unfortunately, this trait was added to his body with a great shortcoming. The light of the sun would weaken and expose Argus for unknown reasons. He felt a pulse from sunlight, a pulse which could not be replicated by artificial means. It was Argus’ only shortcoming as a spy.

A glowing panel lit the room he was in. Somehow, Argus knew, a condensed star was leaking its energy through that panel. Argus’ armor would have protected his body, but he wasn’t wearing his helmet. He was already visible and too dazed to move.

The double of Rip's right arm changed into a spike. He used the left arm to punch one of the spires, which then lit up. In a monotone voice, the clone recited its orders.

"Emergency protocol one. Eliminate any and all intruders. Protocol two. I am to stall you by speaking ten seconds before engaging. Two... one..."

Well, shit, thought Argus. Good while it lasted...

Suddenly, a pike flew in from the doorway. It impaled the clone's chest and reverted it into mist. Following the pike was a man in blue spandex somewhat akin to John Fox's suit. Argus recognized the stranger as Chronos, but he was now wearing a dark green cloak and a talisman over his neck. His left arm was also bleeding.

Chronos grabbed Argus, threw him out the doorway, and picked up his pike. As he left the room he threw the pike at one of the spires. He spun to the side to avoid the following explosion.

"Last set," Chronos muttered. He then looked at Argus.

"You did wonderful. Everything's going as planned.... give or take a few details. Now go get John and Roy, the security'll be down for half an hour while the ship's in self-repair. I've set a warp over Central City, we'll be approaching it soon. Just one obstacle left."

Chronos reached into a pouch strapped to his side. He pulled out three rings and tossed them at Argus.

"Those'll let you fly to the ground. I'll need them back later. Now go get John and... excuse me."

Dozens of Rip Hunters were dashing in from either side, their appendages turning into various sharp objects.

Chronos cracked his knuckles.

"Rip, I have the utmost respect for you. But you're a goddamned fool if you think this'll slow me down."

-To be continued