by Eurostar
The ship lands softly on the sandy surface of the Moon, and the motor drives it deep inside the rocky surface, so that in the end only the top half of the sphere is visible over the ground. Still, at five miles in diameter, it is large enough to be seen with the naked eye from the Earth's surface.
"The end," whispers Rhyme Guardian. "Mission accomplished. Let's find a fighter and fly back home, Disco," he says, looking at the bare, white surface of the Moon.
"So it ends like this? No big victory, no reporters, no people to applaud us?" whispers Disco Stave.
"No. Not this time." A few minutes later, a Murmulan fighter leaves the ship, heading for Earth.
Later, after the little fighter is too far out of reach for any human eyes, two figures materialize inside the ship, in the room where the four heroes had been kept caged.
"Meta 7," says one.
"Prometheus X," acknowledges the other.
"Your men performed well."
"It cost most of them their lives," says Meta 7.
"Some of them, yes," agrees Prometheus X. "To others, it was simply... a change of place. Do not worry."
"The ship is on the Moon, as you requested," says Meta 7. "The aliens have been destroyed. There isn't a single gray alien left on Earth. The sword is here." At that, they both look at the sword called Ladnikia.
"The sword is mine, Meta 7. It was the sword of my nemesis, long ago, in a fabled land. It will be the sword of a man of the past, who will live in the future. A dire time awaits us all. You have seen how powerful metahumans can be when teamed against a great menace. Well, a great darkness is spreading over the cosmos, Meta 7. A dark god named Viper is about to be reincarnated. I ask you to build a great team of heroes, to prepare for the fortification of the Earth. This ship will be their moon base, a watchtower from which to guard over your planet. I will be back when you will need me. For now, farewell." And the black-cloaked stranger vanishes.
Meta 7 looks at the little blue marble up in the black sky, then goes to the nearest computer console. A call, he thinks. A clarion call for every member of the metahuman community who wants to fight for the safety of the Earth, like the seven heroes who today had fought, risking, and in some cases losing, their lives.
The fingers of Meta 7 run over the alien keyboard, preparing a message to send over the Internet to every metahero on the planet through the networking site operated by the Meta Board of the U.N. A message that will give the birth to the greatest organization of heroes the Earth will ever see. A simple, yet powerful, message:
"Which seven heroes should be in a Meta Board League, and what are their powers?"
The Beginning