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arethereanyoriginalusernames · 3 years

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Pushed off the Edge of the North

//Written work. Story, art and characters belong to me

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“Where is my daughter!?”

Skele’s ears still rang from the piercing screams of the ship’s captain. This only added to the pain pulsing all throughout parts of her body. Her hands tied behind her back, roped to the ship’s mast, she could only strain and roll her head back in response to the pain. Beneath her mask, her lower lip quivered as she struggled to hold back whimpers and groans. Her eyes and her throat burned, and, seated on the ground, all she could do was stretch and bend her legs in a fruitless effort to find some relief. She could feel her limbs quiver, her stomach lurch, and her mask was slowly slipping down her face.

She hadn’t felt this pain for years. It hadn’t occurred to her that she had actually forgotten how unbearable this was. This... frightened her. How weak was she? Her mind was seared with the memory of a boot being pressed against her throat, her body immobilized on the ice. The captain’s eyes bore into her, alight with hatred.

“You can abandon your god, monster. He has rightfully abandoned you.”

Gone.

He was gone. Allyon was gone, and Skele was powerless. Powerless as she was the day he found her, injured and dying in front of his shrine. The being who saved her, who gave her the power to conquer the northern seas, who would ease her pain, and who made it so Skele would never have to fear anyone ever again. Gone.

She called out, again and again. She called out to Allyon, to her pod, to anyone who could hear. Nothing. Now her only companion was the sound of the waves accompanying the howling, icy winds. Alone, cold, and overcome by the agony being caused by her own body, Skele fell completely silent, still, trying desperately to fight back tears.

She hardly reacted to the sound of footsteps approaching. A middle aged woman crouched next to her, her numerous bracelets and necklaces clattering against each other as she did. The woman reached out, and pulled Skele’s mask down completely. Skele tried to stare daggers at this, but did nothing as the stranger brushed her fingers over the rips in Skele’s face.

“Marina, is she ready to talk?”

The captain’s voice rang across the deck as she strode over to join the other woman. The woman, Marina, rolled her eyes, sighing. “She’s been turning into an icicle against this pole for the past two hours, Merethe. I doubt anyone would want to talk after that.”

Merethe ignored her, and shoved her aside. She grabbed Skele by the neck, raising her up to put her at eye level. In spite of her condition, Skele met her hard gaze with a glare, and snarled. This only made Merethe tighten her grip slightly. Her voice was cold and steady as she spoke.

“We are taking you back to Atlantis, where I will personally see you thrown in a cell and left to rot. You can tell me where she is now, or we will hunt down every single one of your hoard whales until you give it up.”

“I don’t know where she is, you bitch!” Skele screamed in Merethe’s face, which caused the captain to throw her back down the mast and draw her sword. She used to point of the sword to force Skele to look up at her. Skele could only stare up at her, her head and heart pounding, her entire body feeling as though she was being repeatedly stabbed over and over again.

Then, there was a loud crackle of static.

Marina went over to a nearby radio device, and started fiddling with the dials to get a better connection. Merethe sighed, and looked as though she was about to speak, but stopped abruptly when a voice came through the radio.

“Goddag, mom. It’s Missi.”

Merethe’s head whipped around, eyes wide in shock. She abandoned Skele at the mast and moved quickly to the radio.

“Tak himlen, Missi, where are you?! Are you alright, please tell me you’re alright-!”

Missi cut her off “Where’s Skele?”

Merethe was clearly taken aback, and hesitated before responding. “Missi, what are you-?”

“You have Skele. You took her away from her pod, and she’s gone. Where is she?”

Skele’s breath hitched, and amidst everything she was dealing with, confusion bubbled up. What was that jellyfish shifter doing, asking for her whereabouts? How did she know that she was with Merethe? And.... Merethe was her mother?

Merethe was no less confused, and worry was written all over her face.

“We... we’re taking her to prison. Why-?”

“Let her go, and I’ll give you coordinates to find me”

A hush fell over the boat. Merethe looked over at Skele before responding.

“Missi, this young woman is a crim-.”

“I’m not compromising. If you want coordinates, let her go.”

Missi’s monotone voice cutting off her frantic mother for what felt like the umpteenth time was somewhat comical to Skele. Had the situation been different, this would have been one of the funniest things she had ever witnessed, and she cracked a small smile.

Her smile faded however, as she was yanked roughly to her feet. While she was untied from the mast, Merethe left Skele’s hands tied behind her back as she promptly tossed the orca shifter over the side of the boat. She nearly screamed as she was engulfed in the freezing water. She instinctively shifted into her orca form, and swam away as quickly as possible, adrenaline helping her ignore the pain for a brief moment.

But the adrenaline soon started to fade, and Skele managed to find a stray piece of glacier to rest on, returning to her human form as the pain made swimming near impossible. She lay face down on the ice, the lower half of her legs still submerged in the water, unable to pull herself out completely. Stars swam in front of her, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t move. Not even as she slowly slid back into the water.

Before she went under, Skele was suddenly grabbed by the back of her shirt and pulled upwards. Her saviour had some trouble, but was able to pull Skele up beside her. As Skele leaned against her, unresponsive, Missi patted the neck of the kelpie she was riding, motioning it to move.

The kelpie took off, blazing across the large stretch of ocean. Missi held onto Skele tightly, making sure that she didn’t fall off. Skele, however, had faded out mentally, and only really noticed the sudden feeling of her wet hair slapping across her face. Finally, the kelpie slowed down and stopped near a coast Skele had never seen before. Since they were in shallow waters, Missi simply hopped off and helped Skele walk to the shore.

With Missi’s arm on her shoulders, the pain started to lessen, and Skele started to be able to focus again. She was still exhausted, and she had definitely sustained some injuries from fighting Merethe. She figured that it must be those healing powers Missi has, though she wasn’t sure how effective they would be in her situation.

The two marine shifters set foot on dry land, and Skele would have fallen had Missi not been holding her. The ground was a slippery mix of dirt, rocks, melted snow and seawater, and the two made a beeline for the one of the various, randomly placed patches of ... plants?

Skele stopped abruptly, staring at her feet. Missi, noticing her expression, pointing downwards at the green strands covering the ground.

“Grass. Eighty percent of Greenland is covered in ice... plus you’re usually in the ocean... I take it you don’t get much of it.”

Missi’s arm dropped, and she gazed out across the terrain, which was a wide canvas of snow, dirt, grass and small mountains.

“Looks like it’s turning to springtime here. That’s good. Springtime is good.”

They both stood in silence for a moment, before Missi dropped her arm from Skele’s shoulder, pulling a device out of her pocket.

“This is River, calling base. I’ve got Skele with me at designated location...”

Her voice faded away as Skele felt the familiar stabbing pains spread slowly, torturously, throughout her body. Her new injuries definitely didn’t help, but she could almost feel as though the pain, like little pins and needles poking into her, were finding and trying to reopen all sorts of old wounds. A sudden jolt to an area near her diaphragm caused her to double over, and, with a gasp, she fell backwards onto the (thankfully) soft ground.

She could hear Missi run over, telling someone called “Trix” to locate medical assistance. As soon as she was close enough, Skele’s hand shot out and grabbed Missi’s arm. Surely enough, the pain began to numb. Missi didn’t say anything; she simply knelt next Skele, helping her sit up. Skele avoided her gaze. She already hated how pathetic she was acting, and she wasn’t about to let the petite shifter see her crying.

Neither said anything, and what felt like an eternity passed between them. Finally, Missi spoke up.

“You don’t seem to have any wounds. If that helps.”

Skele groaned in response, and glared at the ground.

“It’s not a wound. It’s... everything.”

She chanced a look back at Missi, who just tilted her head in confusion. Skele sighed, exasperated.

“Allyon’s gone.”

“Huh?”

“He’d normally... help. But...”

She was interrupted by a finger being pressed to her forehead. Missi was looking deep into her eyes, and, after a few seconds of silence, spoke one single word.

“Sleep.”

“What?”

“You need sleep. We’ll be here for a while anyways.”

Skele snorted at the suggestion, but still laid down. She didn’t fall asleep immediately, but eventually her eyes grew heavy. It felt surprisingly good to just not move at all. Missi stayed by her side, hand on her arm.

Before sleep finally took her, a question surfaced in Skele’s mind. Well, two questions, actually. She felt herself asking Missi, but fell asleep before she could hear her answer. The two questions were quickly pushed aside in favour of dreams, but they still lingered in the back of her mind.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Why didn’t you let me die?”

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kirch · 3 years

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WHEN ATLANTIS RULED THE EARTH [A Film Synopsis]

The title appears in letters that look like blocks of stone piled on top of one another to form a kind of step pyramid. It is followed by shots of the earth as it looked thirty thousand years ago, during the great ice ages, showing woolly mammoths, saber-toothed tigers and Cro-Magnon hunters, while a narrator explains that at the same time the greatest civilization ever known by man is flourishing on the continent of Atlantis. The Atlanteans do not know anything about good or evil, the narrator explains. However, they all live to be five hundred years old and have no fear of death. The bodies of all Atlanteans are covered with fur, as with apes.

After seeing various domestic scenes in Zukong Gi-morlad-Siragosa, the largest and most central city on the continent (but not the capital, because the Atlanteans do not have a government), we move to a laboratory where the young (one hundred years old) scientist GRUAD is displaying a biological experiment to an associate, GAO TWONE. The experiment is a giant water-dwelling serpent-man. Gao Twone is impressed, but Gruad declares that he is bored; he wishes to change himself in some unexpected way. Gruad is already strange—unlike other Atlanteans, he is not covered with fur, but has only short blond hair on top of his head and a close-cropped beard. In comparison to other Atlanteans he seems hideously naked. He wears a high-collared pale green robe and gauntlets. He tells Gao Twone that he is tired of accumulating knowledge for the sake of knowledge. "It's just another guise for the pursuit of pleasure, to which too many of our fellow Atlanteans devote their lives. Of course, there's nothing wrong with pleasure—it moves the energies— but I feel that there is something higher and more heroic. I have no name for it yet, but I know it exists."

Gao Twone is somewhat shocked. "You, as a scientist, can talk of knowing something exists when you have no evidence?"

Gruad is dejected by this and admits, "My lens needs polishing." But after a moment he bounces back. "And yet, even though I have my moments of doubt, I think my lens really is clear. Of course, I must find lie evidence. But even now, before I start, I feel that I know what I will find. We could be greater and finer than we are. I look at what I am and sometimes I despise myself. I'm just a clever animal. An ape who has learned to play with tools. I want to be much more. I say we can be what the lloigor are, and even more. We can conquer time and seize eternity, even as they have. I mean to achieve that or destroy myself in the attempt."

The scene shifts to a banquet hall where INGEL RILD, a venerable Atlantean scientist, has called together prominent Atlanteans to celebrate a space research achievement, the production of a solar flare. Ingel Rild and his associates have developed a missile which, when it strikes the sun, can cause an explosion. He tells the marijuana-smoking gathering, "We can control to the second the timing of the flare and to the millimeter the distance it will spring out from the sun. A flare of sufficient magnitude could burn our planet to a crisp. A smaller flare could bombard the earth with radiations such that the area closest to the sun would be destroyed, while the rest of our world would suffer drastic changes. Most serious of all, perhaps, would be the biological changes these excessive radiations would bring about. Life forms would be damaged and perhaps become extinct. New life forms would arise. All of nature would undergo a tremendous upheaval. This has happened naturally once or twice. It happened seventy million years ago when the dinosaurs were suddenly wiped out and replaced by mammals. We still have much to learn about the mechanism that produces spontaneous solar flares. However, to be able to cause them artificially is a step toward predicting and possibly controlling them. When that stage is reached, our planet and our race will be protected from the kind of catastrophe that destroyed the dinosaurs."

After the applause, a woman named KAJECI asks whether it might not be disrespectful to tamper with "our father, the sun." Ingel Rild replies that man is a part of nature and what he does is natural and can't be construed as tampering. Now Gruad interrupts angrily, pointing out that he, an unattractive mutation, is the product of tampering with nature. He tells Ingel Rild that the Atlanteans do not truly understand nature and the order that controls it. He declares that man is subject to laws. All things in nature are, but man is different because he can disobey the natural laws that govern him. Gruad goes on, "With humanity we can speak, as we speak of our own machines, in terms of performance expected and performance delivered. If a machine does not do what it is designed for, we try to correct it. We want it to do what it ought to do, what it should do. I think we have the right and the duty to demand the same of people—that they perform as they ought to and should perform." An aged and merry-eyed scientist named LHUV KERAPHT interrupts, "But people are not machines, Gruad."

"Exactly," Gruad answers. "I have already considered that. Therefore, I have created new words, words even stronger than should and ought. When a person performs as he or she should and ought, I call that Good; and anything less than this I call Evil." This outlandish notion is greeted with general laughter. Gruad tries to speak persuasively, conscious of his lonely position as a pioneer, trying desperately to communicate with the closed minds all around him. After further argument, though, he becomes threatening, declaring, "The people of Atlantis do not live according to the law. In their pride, they strike the sun itself, and boast of it, as you have, Ingel Rild, this day. I say that if Atlanteans do not live according to the law, a disaster will befall them. A disaster that will shake the entire earth. You have been warned! Heed my words!" Gruad strides majestically out of the banquet hall, seizing his cloak at the door and sweeping it about him as he leaves. Kajeci follows him and tells him that she thinks she partly understands what he has been trying to say. The laws he speaks of are like the wishes of parents, and, "The great bodies of the universe are our parents. Isn't that so?" Gruad's naked hand strokes Kajeci's furred cheek, and they go off into the darkness together.

Within six months Gruad has formed an organization called the Party of Science. Their banner is an eye inside a triangle which in turn is surrounded by a serpent with its tail in its mouth. The Party of Science demands that Atlantis publish the natural laws Gruad has discovered and make them binding on all with systems of reward and punishment to enforce them. The word "punishment" is another addition to the Atlantean vocabulary coined by Gruad. One of Gruad's opponents explains to friends of his that it means torture, and everyone's fur bristles. Ingel Rild announces to a gathering of his supporters that Gruad has proven to his own satisfaction—and the demonstration runs to seventy-two scrolls of logical symbols—that sex is part of what he calls Evil. Only sex for the good of the community is to be permitted under Gruad's system, to keep the race alive.

A scientist called TON LIT exclaims, "You mean we must be thinking about conception during the act? That's impossible. Men's penises would droop, and women's vaginas wouldn't get moist. It's like—well, it's like making the shrill mouth-music while you are urinating. It would take great training, if it can be done at all." Ingel Rild proposes the formation of a Party of Freedom to oppose Gruad. Discussing Gruad's personality, Ingel Rild says he checked the genealogical records and found that several of the most agitated-energy people in all Atlantean history were among his ancestors. Gruad is a mutation, and so are many of his followers. The energy of normal Atlanteans flows slowly. Gruad's people are impatient and frustrated, and this is what makes them want to inflict suffering on their fellow humans.

Joe sat up with a jolt. If he understood that part of the movie, Gruad—evidently the first Illuminatus—was also the first homo neophilus. And the Party of Freedom, which seemed to be the origin of the Discordian and JAM movements, was pure homo neophobus. How the hell could that be squared with the generally reactionary attitude of current Illuminati policies, and the innovativeness of the Discordians and JAMs? But the film was moving on—

In a disreputable-looking tavernlike place where men and women smoke dope in pipes that they pass from one to another, while people grope in couples and groups in dark corners, SYLVAN MARTISET proposes a Party of Nothingness that rejects the positions of both the Party of Science and the Party of Freedom. After this we see street fighting, atrocities, the infliction of punishment on harmless people by men wearing Gruad's eye-and-triangle badge. The Party of Freedom proclaims its own symbol, a golden apple. The fighting spreads, the numbers of the dead mount and Ingel Rild weeps. He and his associates decide on a desperate expedient—unleashing the lloigor Yog Sothoth. They will offer this unnatural soul-eating energy being from another universe its freedom in return for its help in destroying Gruad's movement. Yog Sothoth is imprisoned in the great Pentagon of Atlantis on a desolate moor in the southern part of the continent. The Atlantean electric plane bearing Ingel Rild, Ton Lit and another scientist drifts, trailing feathery sparks, to a landing in a flat field overgrown with gray weeds. Within the Pentagon, an enormous black stone structure, the ground is scorched and the air shimmers like a heat mirage. Flickers of static electricity run through the shimmering from time to time, and an unpleasant noise, like flies around a corpse, pervades the whole moor. The faces of the three Atlantean sages register disgust, sickness and terror. They climb the nearest tower and talk to the guard. Suddenly Yog Sothoth takes control of Ton Lit, speaking in an oily, rich, deep and reverberating voice, and asks them what they seek of him. Ton Lit lets out a terrible shriek and claps his hands over his ears. Froth slips from the side of his mouth, his fur bristles and his penis stands erect. His eyes are delirious and suffering, like those of a dying gorilla. The guard uses an electronic instrument that looks like a magician's wand topped with a five-pointed star to subdue Yog Sothoth. Ton Lit bays like a hound and leaps for Ingel Rild's throat. The electronic ray drives him back and he stands panting, tongue hanging loose, as the Pentagon first and then the ground begin to soften into asymptotic curves. Yog Sothoth chants, "la-nggh-ha-nggh-ha-nggh-fthagn! la-nggh-ha-nggh-ha-nggh-hgual! The blood is the life ... The blood is the life ..." All faces, bodies and perspectives are skewed and there is a greenish tinge on everything. Suddenly the guard strikes the nearest wall of the Pentagon directly with his electronic wand and Ton Lit shrieks, human intelligence coming back into his eyes together with great shame and revulsion. The three sages flee the Pentagon under a sky slowly turning back to its normal shape and color. The laughter of Yog Sothoth follows them. They decide that they cannot release the lloigor.

Meanwhile Gruad has called his closest followers, known as the Unbroken Circle of Gruad, to announce that Kajeci has conceived. Then he shows them a group of manlike creatures with green, scaly skin, wearing long black cloaks and black skullcaps with scarlet plumes. These he calls his Ophidians. Since At-lanteans have a kind of instinctive check on themselves that prevents them from killing except in blind fury, Gruad has developed these synthetic humanoids from the serpent, which he has found to be the most intelligent of all reptiles. They will have no hesitation about destroying men and will act only on Gruad's command. Some of his followers protest, and Gruad explains that this is not really killing. He says, "Atlanteans who will not accept the teachings of the Party of Science are swinish beings. They are a sort of robot who has no inner spiritual substance to control it. Our bodies, however, are deceived into feeling as if they are our own kind, and we cannot raise our hands against them. Now, however, the light of science has given us hands to raise." At this meeting Gruad also addresses his men for the first time as the "illuminated ones." At the next meeting of the Party of Freedom the Ophidians attack, using iron bars to club people to death and slashing throats with their fangs. Then the Party of Freedom holds a funeral for a dozen of its dead at which Ingel Rild gives an oration describing the ways in which the struggle between Gruad's followers and the other Atlanteans is changing the character of all human beings:

"Hitherto, Atlanteans have enjoyed knowledge but not worried over the fact that there is much that we do not know. We are conservative and indifferent to new ideas, we have no inner conflicts and we feel like doing the things that seem wise to us. We think that the things we feel like doing will usually work out for the best. We consider pain and pleasure a single phenomenon, which we call sensation, and we respond to unavoidable pain by relaxing or becoming ecstatic. We do not fear death. We can read each other's minds because we are in touch with all the energies of our bodies. The followers of Gruad have lost that ability, and they are thankful that they have. The Scientists dote on new things and new ideas. This love of the new thing is a matter of genetic manipulation. Gruad is even encouraging people in their twenties to have children, though it is our custom never to have children before we reach a hundred. The generations of Gruad's followers come thick and fast, and they are not like us. They agonize over their ignorance. They are full of uncertainty and inner conflict between what they should do and what they feel like doing. The children, who are brought up on Gruad's teachings, are even more disturbed and conflict-filled than their parents. One doctor tells me that the attitudes and the way of life Gruad is encouraging in his people is enough to shorten their life spans considerably. And they are afraid of pain. They are afraid of death. And even as their lives grow shorter, they desperately seek for some means of achieving immortality."

Gruad tells a meeting of his Unbroken Circle that the tune has come to intensify the struggle. If they can't rule the Atlanteans, they will destroy Atlantis. "Atlantis will be destroyed by light," says Gruad. "By the light of the sun." Gruad introduces the worship of the sun to his followers. He reveals the existence of gods and goddesses. "They are all energy, conscious energy," says Gruad. "This conscious and powerfully directed and focused pure energy I call spirit. All motion is spirit. All light is spirit. All spirit is light." Under Gruad's direction, the Party of Science builds a great pyramid, thousands of feet high. It is in two halves; the upper half, made of an indestructible ceramic substance and inscribed with a terrible staring eye, floats five hundred feet above the base, held in place by antigravity generators. A band of men and women led by LILITH VELKOR, chief spokeswoman for the Party of Nothingness, gathers at the base of the great pyramid and laughs at it. They carry Nothingarian signs:

DON'T CLEAN OUR LENSES, GRUAD— GET THE CRACK OUT OF YOUR OWN

EVERY TIME I HEAR THE WORD "PROGRESS" MY FUR BRISTLES

THE SUN SUCKS FREEDOM DEFINED IS FREEDOM DENIED

THE MESSAGE ON THIS SIGN IS A FLAT LIE

Lilith Velkor addresses the Nothingarians, satirizing all Gruad's beliefs, claiming that the most powerful god is a crazy woman and she is the goddess of chaos. To the accompaniment of laughter she declares, "Gruad says the sun is the eye of the sun god. That's more of his notion that males are superior and reason and order are superior. Actually, the sun is a giant golden apple which is the plaything of the goddess of chaos. And it's the property of anyone she thinks is fair enough to deserve it." Suddenly a band of Ophidians attacks followers of Lilith Velkor and kills several of them. Lilith Velkor leads her people in an unprecedented attack on the Ophidians. They storm up the side of the great pyramid and throw the Ophidians down to the street, killing them. Amazingly, they succeed in wiping out all the Ophidians. Gruad declares that Lilith Velkor must die. When the opportunity presents itself, his men seize her and take her to a dungeon. There an enormous wheel has been constructed with four spokes in the shape [of a modern "Peace" sign]

Lilith Velkor is crucified with ropes, upside down, on this device. Several members of the Party of Science lounge about, watching her die. Gruad enters, goes to the wheel and looks at the dying woman, who says, "This is as good a day to die as any." Gruad remonstrates with her, saying that death is a great evil and she should fear it. She laughs and says, "All my life I have despised tradition and now I despise innovation also. Surely, I must be a most wicked example for the world!" She dies laughing. Gruad's rage is unbearable. He vows that he will wait no longer; Atlantis is too wicked to save and he will destroy it.

On a windswept plain in the northern regions of Atlantis a huge teardrop-shaped rocket with graceful fins is poised on the launching pad. Gruad is in the control room making last-minute adjustments while Kajeci and Wo Topod argue with him. Gruad says, "The human race will survive. It will survive the better purged of these Atlanteans, who are nothing but swine, nothing but robots, nothing but creatures who do not understand good and evil. Let them perish." His finger strikes a red button and the rocket hurtles on its way to the sun. It will take several days to reach there, and meanwhile Gruad has gathered the Unbroken Circle on an airship which takes them away from Atlantis and into the huge mountains to the east in a region that will one day be called Tibet. Gruad calculates that by the time the missile strikes the sun, they will have been landed and underground for two hours. The sun rides blinding yellow over the plains of Atlantis. It is a beautiful day in Zukong Gimorlad-Siragosa, the sun shining down on its slender, graceful towers with spiderweb bridges spiraling among them, its parks, its temples, its museums, its fine public buildings and magnificent private palaces. Its handsome, richly furred people gracefully stride amidst the beauties of the first and finest civilization man has ever produced. Families, lovers, friends and enemies, all unsuspecting what is about to happen, enjoy their private moments. A quintet plays the melodious zinthron, balatet, mordan, swaz and fen-drar. Over all, however, the great eye on the side of Gruad's pyramid glares horrid and red.

Suddenly the sun's body rages. Coiled flames, balls of gas, roll out. The sun looks like a giant fiery arachnid or octopus. One great flame comes rolling toward the earth, burning red gas which turns yellow, then green, then blue, then white.

There is nothing left of Zukong Gimorlad-Siragosa, except the pyramid with its upper segment now resting on the base, the antigravity generators having been destroyed. The baleful eye looks out over an absolutely flat, burnt-black plain. The ground shakes, great cracks open. The blackened area is a great circle, hundreds of miles in diameter, beyond which is a dark brown and still desolate wasteland. Thousands of cracks appear in the brittle surface of the continent, the strength of whose rocks has been destroyed by the incredible heat of the solar flare. A tide of mud starts crawling over the empty plain. It leaves only the top of the pyramid, with the great eye, showing. Water sweeps over the mud, at first sinking in and standing in pools, then rising higher so that only the tip of the pyramid sticks out of a great lake. Under the water enormous parallel fissures open in the ground on either side of the blackened central circle. The midsection of the continent, including the pyramid, begins to sink. The pyramid falls into the depths of the ocean with cliffs rising on either side of it to the parts of Atlantis that still remain above the ocean. They will remain for many thousands of years more, and they will be the Atlantis remembered in the legends of men. But the true Atlantis—high Atlantis—is gone.

Gruad stares into his crimson-glowing viewplate, watching the destruction of Atlantis. The light changes color, from red to gray, and the face of Gruad turns gray. It is a terrible face. It has aged a hundred years in the last few minutes. Gruad may claim to be in the right, but deep down he knows that what he has done isn't nice. And yet deep down there is satisfaction, too, for Gruad, long tortured by unreasonable guilt, now has something he can really feel guilty about. He turns to the Unbroken Circle and proposes, since it appears that the earth will survive the cataclysm (he was not really sure that it would), that they plan for the future. Most of them, however, are still in shock. Wo Topod,; inconsolable, stabs himself to death, the first recorded time that a member of the human race has deliberately killed himself. Gruad calls upon his followers to destroy all remains of the Atlantean civilization and then, later, to build a perfect civilization when even the ruins of Atlantis have been forgotten. The great beasts that inhabited Europe, Asia and North America die off as a result of mutations and diseases caused by the solar flare. All relics of the Atlan-tean civilization are destroyed. The people who were Gruad's erstwhile countrymen are either killed or driven forth to wander the earth. Besides Gruad's Himalayan colony there is one other remnant of the High Atlantean era: the Pyramid of the Eye, whose ceramic substance resisted solar flare, earthquake, tidal wave and submersion in the depths of the ocean. Gruad explains that it is right that the eye should remain. It is the eye of God, the One, the scientific-technical eye of ordered knowledge that looks down on the universe and by perceiving it causes it to be. If an event is not witnessed, it does not happen; therefore, for the universe to happen there must be a Witness. Among the primitive hunters and gatherers a mutation has appeared that seems to be spreading rapidly. More and more people are being born without fur and with hair in the same pattern as Gruad's. The Hour of God's Eye has caused mutations in every species.

From the Himalayas the rocket ships of the Unbroken Circle, painted red and white, swoop out in squadrons. They sweep across Europe and land on the brown islands where Atlantis used to be. There they land and raid a city of refugees from the Atlantean disaster. They kill many of the leaders and intellectuals and herd the rest aboard the ships, fly to the Americas and deposit the helpless people on a vast plain. Far below their route of passage lies the Pyramid of the Eye at the bottom of the Atlantic. The base of the pyramid is covered with silt and the break where the upper part of the pyramid had floated on antigravity projectors is also covered. Still the pyramid itself towers over the mud around it, taller by three times than the Great Pyramid of Egypt, the building of which lies twenty-seven thousand years in the future. A vast shadow descends upon the pyramid. There is a suggestion in the darkness of the ocean bottom of giant tentacles, of sucker disks wide as the rims of volcanos, of an eye as big as the sun looking at the eye on the pyramid. Something touches the pyramid, and enormous as it is, it moves slightly. Then the presence is gone.

The pentagonal trap in which the people of Atlantis had heroically and brilliantly caught the dread ancient being Yog Sothoth has been, amazingly, undamaged by the catastrophe. Being on the southern plain, which was relatively uninhabited, the Pentagon of Yog Sothoth becomes the center of a migration of people who survived the disaster. Emergency cities are set up, those dying of radiation sickness are treated. A second Atlantis begins to take root. And then, from the Himalayas, the ships of the Unbroken Circle come swooping down on one of their raids. Lines of Atlantean men and women are marched to the walls of the Pentagon and there mowed down by laser fire. Then explosive charges are placed amid the heaps of bodies and the masked, uniformed men of the Unbroken Circle withdraw. There is a series of explosions; horrid yellow smoke goes coiling up. The gray stone walls crumble. There is a moment of stillness, balance, tension. Then the piled-up boulders of one side of the wall fly apart as if thrust by the hand of a giant. An enormous claw print appears in the soft soil around the ruins of the Pentagon. The masked men of the Unbroken Circle race frantically for their ships and take off. The ships dart into the sky, stop suddenly, waver and plummet like stones to explosive crashes on the earth. The surviving refugees scream and scatter. Like a scythe going through wheat, death sweeps among them in great arcs as they run in massed mobs. Mouths open in soundless screams, they fall. Only a handful escapes. Over the scene a colossal reddish figure of indeterminate shape and number of limbs stands triumphant.

In the Himalayas, Gruad and the Unbroken Circle watch the destruction of the Pentagon and the massacre of the Atlanteans. The Unbroken Circle cheers, but Gruad strangely weeps. "You think I hate walls?" he says. "I love walls. I love any kind of wall. Anything that separates. Walls protect good people. Walls lock away the evil. There must always be walls and the love of walls, and in the destruction of the great Pentagon that held Yog Sothoth I read the destruction of all that I stand for. Therefore I am stricken with regret."

At this the face of EVOE, a young priest, takes on a reddish glow and a demoniac look. There is more than a hint of possession. "It is good to hear you say that," he says to Gruad. "No man yet has befriended me, though many have tried to use me. I have prepared a special place for your soul, oh first of the men of the future." Gruad attempts to speak to Yog Sothoth, but the possession has apparently passed, and the other members of the Unbroken Circle praise a new beverage that Evoe has prepared, made of the fermented juice of grapes. At dinner, later that day, Gruad tries the new beverage and praises it, saying, "This juice of grapes relaxes me and does not cause the disturbing visions and sounds that makes the herb the Atlanteans used to smoke so unpleasant for a man of conscience." Evoe gives him more to drink from a fresh jar, and Gruad takes it. Before drinking he says, "Any culture that arises in the next twenty thousand years or so is going to have the rot of Atlantis in it. Therefore I decree a noncultural time of eight hundred generations. After that we may allow man free reign on his propensity for building civilizations. The culture he builds will be under our guidance, with our ideas implicit in its every aspect, with our control at every stage. Eight hundred generations from now the new human culture will be planted. It will follow the natural law. It will have the knowledge of good and evil, the light that comes from the sun, the sun that blasphemers say is only an apple. It is no apple, I tell you, though it is a fruit, even as this beverage of Evoe's that I now quaff is from a fruit. From the grape comes this drink and from the sun comes the knowledge of good and evil, the separation of light and darkness over the whole earth. Not an apple, but the fruit of knowledge!" Gruad drinks. He puts down his glass, clutches his throat and staggers back. His other hand goes to his heart. He topples over and lies on his back, his eyes staring upward.

Naturally, everyone accuses Evoe of poisoning Gruad. But Evoe calmly answers that it was Lilith Velkor who did it. He was doing research on the energies of the dead and had learned how to take them into him. But sometimes the energies of the dead could take control of him, so that he would be just a medium through which they act. He cries, "When you write this tragedy into the archives, you must say, not that Evoe the man did it, but Evoe-Lilith, possessed by the evil spirit of a woman. The woman did tempt me, I tell you! I was helpless." The Unbroken Circle is persuaded, and agree that since Lilith Velkor and the crazy goddess she worshipped were responsible for Gruad's death, henceforward women must be subordinate to men so such evils will not be repeated. They decide to build a tomb for Gruad and to inscribe upon it, "The First Illuminated One: Never Trust A Woman." They decide that since the lloigor is loose they will offer sacrifices to it, and the sacrifices will be pure young women who have never lain with a man. Evoe seems to be taking control of the group and Gao Twone protests this. To prove his dedication to the true and the good, Evoe declares, he has had his penis amputated as a sacrifice to the All-Seeing Eye. He pulls open his robe. All look at his truncated crotch and immediately retch. Evoe goes on, "Furthermore, it is decreed by the Eye and Natural Law that all male children who would be close to goodness and truth must imitate my sacrifice, at least to the extent of losing the foreskin or being cut enough to bleed." Kajeci comes in at this point, and they plan a great funeral, agreeing that they will not burn Gruad as was the Atlantean custom, signifying that one is dead forever, but will preserve his body, symbolizing the hope that he is not really dead but will rise again.

There follow several thousand years of warfare between the remnants of the Atlanteans and the inhabitants of Agharti, the stronghold of the Scientists, who now call themselves variously the Knowledgeable or the Enlightened Ones. The last remnants of the Atlantean culture are destroyed. Great cities were built, then destroyed by nuclear explosions. All the inhabitants of the city of Peos are killed in one night by the eater of souls. Chunks of the continent break off and sink into the sea. There are earthquakes and tidal waves. Finally, only outcroppings like the cone-shaped island of Fernando Poo rise alone from the sea where Atlantis had been.

About 13,000 B.C. a new culture is planted on a hillside near the headwaters of the Euphrates and it starts to spread. A tribe of Cro-Magnons, magnificently tall, strong, large-headed people, is marched at gunpoint down from the snows of Europe to the fertile lands of the Middle East. They are taken to the site chosen for the first agricultural settlement and shown how to plant crops. For several years they do so while the Unbroken Circle's men guard them with flame throwers. Their generations pass rapidly, and once the new way of life has taken hold the Illuminated Ones leave them alone. The tribe divides into kings, priests, scribes, warriors, and farmers. A city surrounded by farms rises up. The kings and priests are soft, weak and fat. The peasants are stunted and dulled by malnutrition. The warriors are big and strong, but brutal and unintelligent. The scribes are intelligent, but thin and bloodless. Now the city makes war on neighboring tribes of barbarians. Being well organized and technologically superior, the people of the city win. They enslave the barbarians and plant other cities nearby. Then a great tribe of barbarians comes down from the north and conquers the civilized people and burns their city. This is not the end of the new civilization, though. It only revitalizes it. Soon the conquerors have learned to play the roles of kings, priests and warriors, and now there is a kind of nation consisting of several cities with a large body of armed who must be kept occupied. Marching robotlike in great square formations, they set out over the plain to find new peoples to conquer. The sun shines down on the civilization created by the Illuminati. And below the sea the eye on the pyramid glares balefully upward.

THE END

#Discordia #Erisians #Atlantis #Illuminati #Illuminatus #Graud

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wearepaladin · 5 years

Text

Unconquered

A story of Primeval Thule

Three things cannot be long hidden. The Sun, The Moon, and the Truth.

-Buddha

On the continent of Thule, in the age after Atlantis was consumed by the depths, and before the time of all consuming ice, magic was a force feared and little understood by humanity at large. For most, what little that was understood fell under the domain of superstition and fear, for it was a force not natural to humanity, and those who did seek to understand and wield it would be considered outcasts by most, their souls forever corrupted by the taint of the arcane.

The argument could be made that this belief was born of prejudice and superstition, and that magic, like any form of power or knowledge, depended on who grasped it to be considered good or evil. It might even be true. But those who make that argument find it little comfort in the conquered city of Thran, where those with arcane power rule unquestioned.

The origins of the Black Circle, the cabal of arcanists that hold sovereignty over Thran is a deliberate mystery, with those seeking answers often unsatisfied or left in no state to share what they learned. What is certain is that one day, the old leadership of Thran vanished in a swift coup, and rising over the city appeared the Orb, an obsidian fortress sphere that put the city in a perpetual state of eclipse. From there, the will of the Black Circle enforced itself on Thran, subduing the city by way of spell, legions of undead and other monsters that found no sunlight to burn or hinder progress, a terrifying display of arcane and necromantic power that has instigated a Long Night upon Thran.

Now, whenever people question the danger of magic, they need only cite Thran as an example to chill doubting hearts. The city has been under the thumb of the Black Circle for nearly a decade now, with those who challenge them quick to disappear...

Or be made an example of.

Deep beneath surface, in the heart of Thran’s Iron Colliseum, an arena crafted by the will of the city’s master, a solitary soul awaited his end. He could feel the crowd before he heard them, their enthusiasm a palpable thing even deep beneath the arena. The prisoner had long grown familiar to the roar of bloodthirsty enthusiasm, and it no longer evoked either the fear or excitement it once did.

For the crowd desired only his blood now.

“Up, Lemurian.”

The guard who spoke emphasized his comand with a meaty kick upon the cell door, the sound doing more to rouse the prisoner from his thoughts than anything spoken. The prisoner met the guard’s gaze squarely through his one working eye, the other red and swollen from being struck an hour before. The “Lemurian” rose with an effort that barely betrayed the presence of the many bruises and wounds that currently decorated his form.

“It’s time. Come. Better to meet your fate in the arena than down here.”

The guard chuckled, and the Lemurian grimaced in agreement, despite himself. The alternative of being slowly beaten to death in a cell was only slightly less appealing than being made a spectacle of in the arena.

--------------------------

In another time, in another place, another prisoner waited in the dark. She was draped limply upon the floor, her arms and torso held aloft by great chains of metal that she no longer had the power to strain against.

Once, she might have willed those chains to less than ash, such was her power in times past, or simply made herself elsewhere. Even now, she might have strained and heard iron scream and submit to raw force, but those who kept her prisoner had prepared for her confinement. Runes of Eclipse of and Cloud kept her dim light smothered, and here, deep beneath the earth, moonlight would be hard pressed to find and restore her.

For even the forgotten goddess of the moon still had sway with her domain. But here, in the deep darkness, Selene could find no comfort in the promise of that absent light. Or at least, that’s what her captors believed...

Eyes closed, her body limp with the facade of defeat, she focused herself in the darkness, imagining, remembering, to be a deeper darkness than night, the hidden moon obscured in the shadow the world. As a goddess she’d had many aspects, but in this phase, the umbra, she was the hunter in the dark.

The hunter knew how to be unseen, and more importantly, how to be patient.

-------------------------------

Light spilled into the corridor, prompting the Lemurian to shield his eyes, granted no period to adjust as a guard pushed him forward, his exposed knees scratching themselves on the sand. As he was pushed closer to the entrances, the smell of blood filled his nose even as the roar of the crowd filled his ears. With a will, he stood straight, wincing as one of his recently inflicted injuries found itself pressed down by his escort.

“Will you not allow me even one weapon to defend myself?”

The guard gave another hollow chuckle.

“The lords of this city desire not to see you fight, Lemurian. They wish to see you die.”

And with that he was pushed forward into the light, the gate closing immediately after, the Lemurian finding himself facing the arena. All around him, the crowd undulated at his presence, pulsing with the thought of seeing him dead. The living and the undead sat side by side, the promise of violence enough to bring both sides of that divide together. Or at least that’s how it seemed.

He looked up at the source of the artificial eclipse that dominated the sovereignty of Thran. The diluted light of the sun seemed more illustrate the dark sphere the overlords of this place resides than provide true illumination to the world below. Others, be they living or dead, tried to avoid looking at it, as though their upward gaze might offend their betters.

The Lemurian glared upward, unafraid.

“Still defiant, even now.”

The voice of the Speaker, the United Presence of the Black Circle, the only evidence of most would ever witness of the people behind the magocracy above their heads, rang over the arena. The crowd was silent, daring not interrupt.

“I defy only what others accept out of fear.” The Lemurian answered, still focused on the Orb, resisting the urge to blink his eyes away. The sun still burned even in this false eclipse, but with death so close, he didn’t want to grant the Circle any perceived submission.

Or at least, that was the image he was trying to project. The sun no longer burned him as it did most, but that was a secret he would not unveil. Not yet.

“They accept the will of their betters. For all you’ve done in resistance to our mastery over this world, you forget that ultimately what we do with our magic is just an extension of our humanity, where it is our nature to submit to greater strength. Be it with spell or axe, we will rule this city and this world to come by making it in our image.”

From the sphere above, a broken sword fell, planted in the sand. Forms of deeper darkness pooled around it, taking the shape of nightmares. The Lemurian recognized them as his executioners. The moment was here.

He stood to meet it.

“And yet for years I have not submitted to you. Through slavery, torture, violence, even trying to force my mind under your chains, you could not break me. I am proof that your shallow philosophy is as thin as any shadow.”

He limped forward, one of the wounds inflicted in his confinement opening, blood draining down his leg. He grasped the broken knife hilt, and turned to face the nearest form of living darkness, meeting its deadlight gaze squarely.

“I need only show these people that they can yet remain unconquered. That there is a light they share that you cannot smother.”

The crowd had gone utterly silent at this point, the nervous tension deep enough to cut. One of the nightmares surrounding suddenly struck the Lemurian, talons as cold as midnight circling his heart.

“And how shall you do that?”

The Speaker intoned, sarcasm laced with a grudging irritation. The talons grew jagged, forcing a rictus of agony on the Lemurian’s face.

A sight that promptly faded into a calm smile, even as his blood pooled on the sands of the arena.

“Like this.”

He raised his knife high. And the sun answered him, the once pale light of the arena banished in favor of a storm of fire and light. A moment later, where a once dying man stood bleeding before a visceral execution, creatures of darkness ready to slowly pull him apart for the amusement of their masters, now stood a man made whole, crowned with a nimbus of light, a once broken knife in hand made unto a solar blade of purest edge.

“Now. Let us begin.”

—————————

Selene heard the footsteps, and girded herself, the power she’d been slowly gathering to strike. It almost hurt at this point, like a blunt knife edging out of her skin, but kept it still. She would only have once chance.

In her focus, she almost did not notice the hurried alacrity of the footsteps, but was barely given to ponder before the door to her cell opened from outside. Her captor, the merchant prince Mheriz, stormed in, a contingent of his guards surrounding him.

“We need to get her out of here. Lock the door, and prep the circle. The buyer is not someone we can afford to allow their prize to slip away.”

He ordered, a pair of his guards swiftly locking the door while Mheriz’s pet mage began activating the teleportation circle beneath her feet.

Selene grit her teeth. The power she’d been saving to break her chains would mean nothing if they could simply whisk her away. But the circle was not something she could break free of...not as easily anyway. She would be exhausted, vulnerable...

Finally betraying signs of life, she looked at the door, willing herself to divine what was behind it...and saw a glimmer of hope.

With a deep sigh, she gathered her power, and with everything she had, the gifts of a scant few believers from every age she’d known, began to whisper the first thing any god had shown mortals.

She prayed.

The circle beneath her cracked in two, three, a dozen pieces, it’s power to ensnare and transport her to wherever Mheriz intended ruined beyond any swift repair, the mage who’d begun activating it sent flying into the wall with a wet crack. Exhaustion racked her body, and the goddess Selene slumped, her power diminished.

She remained conscious only long enough to hear Mheriz howl in outrage, and witness the doors to her cell shatter open.

—————

The sound of battle quieted, and a lone figure stared at the unconscious body of the moon goddess, her form deceptively mortal, if not for her great size. Mheriz’s dying ambition, to use her as a bargaining chip to buy into the ranks of some of the more unholy factions on Thule seemed all the more abhorrent at the sight of her. His fragmented remains seeming a minor punishment for the offense. If he’d had the time, the lone figure might have eaten the man’s heart for this crime. As it was, enough time had been wasted in thought of the dead merchant prince. There was a greater duty to uphold now.

The sword of fire and light ignited in his hand, and cursed iron shattered with each strike. The goddess crumpled slowly, before righting herself with a great deliberation, straining against exhaustion and pain. Never the less, she rose with a dignity the lone figure found beautiful beyond words.

She met his gaze, seemed to look through him, to his heart and soul. A thoughtful frown graced her face. “Your are a warrior of Mithras, the Unconquered Sun. Son of Sol Invictus, in my memory, your people were enemies of my children. The memory of Lemuria and her wars with Atlantis still chill my heart. Why have you assisted me, in this, my darkest hour?”

She asked, trepidation clear on her face.

The lone figure paused, before sheathing his blade, and removing his helmet. His Lemurian features clear in the silver light of her presence. He considered answering with tenets of his oath, of Mithras’ code of justice and light. All seemed inadequate, even in their truth. Slowly, deeper truth bled out of him

“My name is Atreus. I have been made a slave before, and whatever old hatred between my people and yours, I would never wish that on you, or anyone else.”

The goddess blinked, tears precious as crystal briefly escaping her eyes, before she reached to engulf his hand with her own. He accepted it with a smile.

#primeval thule #paladin story #long post #oath of devotion #selene #broken gods of light #atreus #the first devoted paladin

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jokerfan99 · 5 years

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Dc+Marvel Character Fusions by RobertMacQuarrie1 Part 4

31. Namor + Black Adam= The Black Prince

Centuries ago, Prince Namor ruled the kingdom of Atlantis with a firm yet honorable hand. Renowned for both his skills as a warrior and as a just ruler, it was these qualities that he was chosen by the wizard Shazam to serve as his champion. Imbued with incredible magical energy, Namor's incredible power was magnified a thousand fold. Initially, Namor used his powers wisely and justly. But soon the power began to corrupt Namor, as he soon believed the best way to bring peace to the land was to use his powers to lead the armies of Atlantis to conquer the world. With Namor leading the way, the armies of Atlantis cut a bloody swath across the land, decimating entire nations. Soon, Namor became known as "The Black Prince," and civilizations began to fear his name. Eventually, the wizard Shazam intervened, and punished Namor and his kingdom for abusing his gifts. Shazam used his incredible might to sink Atlantis beneath the waves, while imprisoning Namor in a crystal sarcophagus deep beneath the ocean, hoping to teach the Black Prince humility and to respect the powers at his command. However, Shazam's punishment had the opposite effect, making Namor even more twisted and cruel. And when the Black Prince was accidentally revived by undersea explorers in the modern age, Namor swore to use his incredible might to conquer the world and restore the majesty of Atlantis to it's former glory.

32. Punisher + Deadshot = Deathwish

Floyd Castle was a former mercenary who gave up his former life when he fell in love. Marrying the love of his life, Floyd became a doting husband and eventual loving father. However, Floyd's life was changed forever when he and his family were caught in a crossfire of a political assassination, with only Floyd surviving. Enraged that the killer was to avoid punishment for his crimes due to his political connections, Floyd repurposed his old mercenary gear and became the bounty hunter known as Deathwish in order to hunt down the criminals out of the normal reach of the law. His name has a double meaning, however, as Floyd secretly wishes his time on earth to be over, so he can see his family again, caring little whether he lives or dies. Taking any job, as long as it allows him to eliminate the "right people," Deathwish cuts a bloody swath of destruction across the criminal underworld in any part of the world.

33. Deadpool + Harley Quinn = Jester

Harlene Wilson was a promising- if naive and gullible- scientist, working under the charismatic Dr. Killbrew. Harlene fell in love with Killbrew, never realizing that he didn't reciprocate her interest and was only using her for his own ends. When Harlene contracted an untreatable form of cancer, Killbrew manipulated her into being a guinea pig for his experiments with cellular regeneration, using the cells culled from the mutant Deathclaw. Killbrew had no intention of curing Harlene, but he hoped to learn from the experimentation on her form to further his research. His treatment on Harley ravaged her body and destroyed her mind, causing her to break from reality in order to cope with the pain. Finding out about Killbrew's betrayal of her trust, Harlene broke out of captivity and slew Killbrew in a rage. With her newfound abilities and a powerful healing factor, Harlene took up the identity of the Jester, becoming a merc for hire, figuring that if the world was one big joke, she might as well look the part.

34. The Leader + Hector Hammond = Hector Sterns

Hector Sterns was just an ordinary janitor of slightly low intelligence working at a government lab. Jealous of all the intelligent scientists working above him and secretly believing they were mocking him behind his back, Hector yearned for power to show up all he believed wronged him. He got his wish when he was exposed to a strange meteor that was brought to the lab he worked at for study. Hearing that the meteor had strange mutagenic properties, Hector broke into the storage chamber and exposed himself to the gamma radiation emitting from the stone under the hopes that it would grant him incredible powers. Hector got his wish, in that he developed increased intelligence and amazing telekinetic and telepathic abilities. However, it came at a horrible cost, as it caused him cranium to swell to a massive size, while atrophying his muscles and bones. He was gifted with a genius level intellect and powerful mental abilities, but at the cost of his physical form. But along with his mind, Sterns' ambition also increased. Now, simple revenge would not be enough to satiate him. Sterns wished to rule the world, and turned his incredible intellect towards that task. So far, only the might Orca has been able to halt his plans, pitting his brawn and Sterns' incredible brain.

35. Nova + Firestorm = Sunstorm

Travelling through space, a dying alien from the Nova Corps was searching for a suitable being to inherit his incredible abilities and take up his role of protecting his sector of space. Coming across Earth, the alien was met with a dilemma- he could not find one being who fit the specific requirements needed to inherit and use his abilities. The alien did find two people who had some of the traits he was looking for. Richard Raymond had the spirit to wield the powers of the Nova corp, and was a perfect physical specimen, but he did not have the discipline nor the intelligence. Dr. Martin Rider had the vast intellect and maturity to handle the powers, but was physically weak. Left with no choice, the alien made a desperate gambit, choosing to merge Richard Raymond and Martin Rider into one form, using the strongest elements from both- Richard's body and Martin's mind. Coming to term with their merging, the duo christened themselves Sunstorm, taking up their alien benefactor's mission to protect the solar system, using their newfound abilities of flight, super strength and the ability to alter the molecular makeup of any inorganic object.

36. Hawkeye + Booster Gold = Goldeneye Mockingbird + Blue Beetle = Bluebird

Clint Carter was born in the 25th century to a group of carnival performers. He had honed his natural abilities to become an incredible archer. However, in his time period, the common citizens weren't interested in stuntmen and feats of physical strength anymore, and were more interested in the popular holo-vids. Seeking fame and fortune, Goldeneye decided to head back to the 20th century to wow the audiences with his abilities. However, Clint landed late in the 21st century, where archery skills weren't as highly regarded as they once were. However, Clint decided to stay in this time frame and use his archery skills along with his futuristic technology to become a superhero, taking on the name and identity of Goldeneye. While initially using his abilities for fame and fortune, Clint eventually evolved into a true- albeit flawed- hero.

Bobbi Kord was a genius inventor and agent of SHIELD. When she was passed over for field work, she quit the agency and returned to head Kord Industries. Bobbi combined her combat training along with the resources of Kord Industries to develop a wide arsenal of crime fighting tools, and took up the identity of the Bluebird. She served as a solo adventurer for a while before eventually meeting up with Goldeneye. The two became crimefighting duo and eventually lovers, being partners both on and off the field.

37. Apocalypse + Vandal Savage = Vandal Sa'Vag Nur

The being who would become known as Vandal Sa'Vag Nur began life as an ordinary caveman. Brutal by even the standards of that more savage age, Vandal was cast out from his clan and became a nomad. His entire existence changed the day he investigated the site of what seemed to be a meteorite. In reality, it was the remains of a destroyed Celestial starship. Coming into contact with it, Vandal was exposed to the alien technologies and transformed. Wrapped in a life sustaining coccon, the ship slowly changed Vandal over the course centuries, eventually emerging into Ancient Egypt where he gained his name- Vandal Sa'Vag Nur. Transformed into a being of incredible power, Vandal realized the alien machine transformed him in order to improve the world and make it stronger and better than it was before. However, Vandal interpreted this directive as that the only way the world can improve is through struggle and conquest. By knocking down what came before in order for the world to build a better society in its' place. From that point on, Vandal would use his newfound might to topple civilizations and bring ruin and destruction to the world, under the belief that only the strong could survive, often returning to the same alien cocoon that birthed his new form to slumber for centuries between his conquests. Now, he has awoken in the modern day, and plans to once again destroy civilization as a whole in order for the weak to be weeded out and for the strong to survive. And in this new age of heroes, Vandal believes that with this new breed of humanity, it is the perfect opportunity to wipe the slate clean of humanity and populate the world with living Gods.

38. Arcade + The Riddler = The Gamemaster

Edward R. Cade was a spoiled brat of a wealthy New Gotham couple who grew up loving puzzles and games. The only thing that Edward loved more, however, was murder. After killing his parents to inherit their wealth at a young age, Edward dedicated his fortune in order create the most gruesome and imaginative murders possible. He enjoyed spending his fortune creating elaborate deathtraps to lure his victims into. His puzzles and mazes would be filled with lethal traps and consequences, but he always prided himself on playing "fair." If his victims solved his puzzles or escaped his mazes with their lives intact, he would let them go, no questions asked. Eventually, Edward- now calling himself the Gamemaster- solicited his services as a master assassin to wealthy clients around the world, under the condition that he is allowed to dispose of his targets his way. With this new source of revenue, the Gamemaster set up "Murderworld" amusement parks all over the world. His actions, however, would eventually draw the attention of many superheroes who would either be caught up or try to stop his insane schemes. The Gamemaster doesn't mind, however, as superheroes are just a new challenge for him to refine his skills and come up with even more creative puzzles and games to eliminate his foes.

39. Ghost Rider + Demon = Demon Rider

In medieval Camelot, Sir Jason Blood was one of the most noble Knights of the Round Table. When his son was stricken ill, however, Sir Jason turned to the dark arts in order to find a way to save him. Summoning a powerful demon, Jason pledged his soul to find a way to save his son. The demon agreed, curing Jason's son of his ailment. However, Jason was later betrayed, in that while his son was cured, the demon arranged it so that he would later die from accident while riding a horse. Calling upon his payment, Jason was bonded with a powerful demon called Zarathigan, transforming him into a mindless, savage monstrosity who then proceeded to ravage the kingdom. Jason's rampage came to a end when the wizard Merlin cast a spell to separate Zarathigan from Jason, transforming Jason back to normal. However, Merlin's spell could not completely sever the tie, only weaken it, as Jason's bloodline would forever be tainted with Demon blood. And some day, a future generation would one day again be bonded to Zarathigan and once again be transformed into a powerful demon. That day came centuries later when Sir Jason's descendant, Jason Blaze, would be transformed on his 18th birthday and once again be bonded with Zarathigan. But having never pledged his soul to the darkness, Jason Blaze still retains some control over Zarathigan's bloodlust. As such, Jason Blaze uses his newfound powers as the Demon Rider to avenge the innocent and wage war on evil, while struggling to control the demon within.

40. Psylocke + Huntress = Mindhunter

Helena Braddock was the daughter of a notable crime boss in New Gotham. Under siege by other mobsters, Helena's father turned to the mystical sect known as the League of the Hand for help. The League agreed to wipe out his enemies, but for a price- he would turn his daughter over to them. Helena's father agreed, and she was taken by the League and trained to become their greatest assassin. Undergoing a brutal regime to make her into one of the greatest warriors on the planet, the League also tried to transform Helena mystically, to give her even greater power. Their efforts paid off, and Helena's latent mutant abilities were activated, granting her incredible psionic powers. The League trained her to refine her powers, eventually allowing her to focus her telepathic abilities into her Psionic Knife, the focused totality of all her telepathic abilities. However, Helena was never loyal to the League, filled with a burning hatred for both them and her father. After a decade of training, Helena broke free of her captivity, slaying her captors, and returned to New Gotham to avenge herself on her father and his organization. Now, as Mindhunter, she wages a brutal war against the criminals who take advantage of the innocent, and isn't afraid to use lethal measures to end a threat.

#dc comics #fusion #marvel comics

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