by Eurostar
"What peril?" asked Rhyme Guardian, frowning.
"Relax, man!" said Meta 7 with a smile. "The Golden Age ended forty years ago."
"Why have you gathered us here, sir?" asked the Trout, hurt by the sarcastic remark on the Golden Age, of which he was an obscure but valued star.
"Well, Trout..."
"You can call me Mark. Mark Harris," explained the Trout.
"Aren't you of Italian origins, like me?" asked Exile.
"I am. But I changed my name when I went to America in 1942," he said. "America has been very good to me. They even named an aquatic television hero 'Mark Harris' after me."
"Oh, right!" said Spark, snapping his fingers and causing the moisture in the air to suddenly freeze and fall upon the table as a tiny whiff of snow. "The Man from Atlantis! I've seen reruns of that show on cable. Was that based on you?"
"Well, only very loosely," the Trout said, grinning. "Now, if our host could explain why he has called upon us five..."
"Six, actually," Exile pointed out.
"Ahh... so there is an invisible man! I thought I smelled something strange!" exclaimed the Trout.
All the other heroes turned to the empty seat, waving their hands in that direction. "Settle down, gentlemen! Settle down, please," shouted Meta 7. "I will explain all in a moment." Everyone returned to his own seat, not stopping to look at the empty one.
"I have contacted you for a mission that requires your amazing power. Each one of you is a master of different arts and powers. Some of you are, or were, heroes. Some from the Golden Age, and now retired, like the Trout, who is an amphibious meta able to breathe underwater, see in the dark, and who has an enhanced sense of smell and is able to resist to high pressures. Another from the Golden Age, but at full power, like Rhyme Guardian, who in the '40s and the '50s was a member of the Mysterymen Board Society and the All-Adventurers Squadron."
"Who did you protect during the 'Pin-Up Girl Crisis,' Rhymer?" asked the Trout, whispering.
"Myrna Loy."
"Me, Betty Grable. But only for a month."
"Please, gentlemen," Meta 7 said, raising the tone of his voice. "There are other heroes also, new ones like Spark, who as you have seen has ice powers. He can create ice and control all ice. Useful powers for the task you are asked to accomplish. Then there are metas involved in... different activities than being a hero. Sente, here, is a villain."
At the word of Meta 7, Sente stood, wondering how could they have discovered his secret. Before he could act, he was encased in a bubble of orange energy by Rhyme Guardian.
"As I was saying, Sente is a villain. How do I know? Well, I must first present you Exile," continued Meta 7. Exile smiled. "Exile is another gifted human who has followed a different path from the metahero career. He is a mentalist with telepathic and telekinetic powers. An FBI special agent for years, since he finished high school, he has recently left the feds and works as a professional. Sorry, Sente, but we know everything about you, including your false identity of Pietr Dragunov. You have come here to destroy something called the 'MBL,' but there is no such group here on this Earth. You see, coming from the future, you have stumbled on a different version of your past. The only known groups of heroes on this Earth right now are the Living Legends Brigade and the Seven Senses, and we're not them. Sorry. But I offer you a deal, Sente. Your death-vision could end up being very handy for the mission. Join us, and I will send you back to your proper time at the end of the mission."
"And if I don't join your pathetic mission?"
"I will kill you, Sente," said Meta 7 emotionlessly.
"It's a deal."
"Rhymer, can you free him?" asked Meta 7. The orange bubble dissolved, and Sente went back to his seat. "Okay, this leaves us with the last of you. Gentlemen, I'm pleased to present the Invisible Man!"
From the space above the empty seat, a voice distant like a forgotten dream said, "Pleased to meet you, good sirs."
"The Invisible Man is a hired professional. He is quite powerful," explained Meta 7.
"What kind of professional?" asked the Trout.
"The killer kind," said Exile. "A dandy with power."
"Oh, my! What a rough use of words, my boon companion," the Invisible Man commented sarcastically. "I prefer, first and foremost, to think of myself as a cultured gentleman of refined taste."