by The Eurostar
"Who's up for a burger?" asks the lava elemental, Johnny Monolith, entering the meeting room of the current MBL Headquarters, a former military base given to the team by the U.S. government after the previous headquarters was destroyed during the battle with the Hypertime Entity.
"I am!" yells Beer-Drinking Lad, the young mascot of the league. The tall youngster stands up and, with an ample gesture, sends an empty can of beer across the room to precisely land in the dust bin. "I am the best, Johnny!" he says, talking to Monolith. "Let's go!"
"Wait, Lad!" says the imperious voice of Rhyme Guardian, as the Australian metahero enters the room from the open window. "With Gooz, Marv Velo, and Nightwatch on leave of absence, and Kid Bucket, Renegade, and Morpheos Konstantin quitting, we are shorthanded like never before. You are assigned on permanent monitor duty until the next recruitment drive!"
"What? I have to eat, Rhymer!"
"Eat? I thought you were on a liquid diet! Anyway, eat in front of the screens. We can't let any of our enemies try to level our city again." Rhyme Guardian takes his seat at the oval table at the center of the room. Johnny Monolith leaves, just to return a few minutes later with a pack of Oreo cookies. He sits down, throws one of the cookies to the Lad, and starts munching over one himself, with a long face.
One by one, the other members of the League arrive, taking their seats, waiting for the meeting to be put to order. The silence is broken only by the crunching of teeth on overly baked biscuits. All eyes go to the Rhymer, who is looking at his wristwatch. When the time is exactly four o'clock p.m., he raises his head. "Okay, guys and gal, let's start this meeting. As I was saying to the Lad, we are really in bad shape as a team right now. Our headquarters has been destroyed... for the fourth time. Our ranks right now are nearly halved. I dare to say it, as we all know how things turn out when we do one, but I fear it's time for a recruitment drive."
"Now? Sorry, Rhymer, but I don't think it's the right moment" says Zed. "We're stuck in this leftover base. We don't have even a training room! A fully geared training room, I mean. I say let's wait for the next assignment of federal funds before crowding this place with hot-headed kids without any preparation."
Agent F7 leans forward. "I see your reasoning, but we are really at a low, now. Today was easy because the Warlord is just an uberpowered loon, but what if Rae shows up again with the IBG? If the Arch-Moderator returns, maybe WITH the Hypertime Entity, like last time? Or Viper? I say better to be many metaheroes, even if not fully prepared, than just us eight!"
"Nine!" shouts the Lad.
"Nine. Whatever!" grunts the British secret agent.
Daniel Elwyn O'Boyle, the ageless man behind the mask of Rhyme Guardian, sighs. He knows that in the end the decision will be just on him, as he is the wisest and oldest of them all, in the game long before World War II, when he fought alongside the Mysterymen Board Society. Simpler times, thinks Rhyme Guardian.
"Steve? Lorena? Patrick? Any opinion?" asks the Rhymer, a quick glance at the eyes of Disco Stave, Lioness, and Smasher. "Cadet? Can you express some thoughts instead of sipping that damned carrot juice?"
Suddenly, the lights of the room begin to flicker, and then to dwindle, until a complete obscurity wraps the oval table and its surrounding. A white, blinding cone of light illuminates the center of the table, like a spotlight over an acting stage.
"No... not now..." whispers the Rhymer.
"I come through the ephemeral mists that separate the universes..." a deep, yet musical voice comes from the white nothingness. "I... COME TO WARN YOU ALL... the future... GONE... whole timelines ERASED... I... CAN'T STOP HIM!"
There is a flash of primordial light as seven galaxies flare in defiance, followed by a cosmic wail that shudders the foundations of a million worlds. The veil between universes ripples and pools, a hand slowly emerges through into the physical plane of existence, and Prometheus X appears. Tall, wrapped in a gray trench coat, his usually piercing neo-purple eyes now are open in agony, looking blindly in the dark.
"...SO MUCH... DEATH... must warn others... NO! ANOTHER one IS DYING... HE'S COMING..."
The stranger turns slowly, facing each member of the League without really seeing.
"NO... I am BEING DRAWN away AGAIN... MILLIONS OF timelines... SCREAMING in AGONY... A DEATH knell... HE'S COMING... HE'S COMING... you MUST SAVE your universe... YOUR WORLD..."
And, with that, the stranger turns and melts through a nonexistent doorway as the lights return in the meeting room.
Rhyme Guardian is sitting with his eyes closed, his arms on the table, his chin resting over his hands. Then his eyelids slowly open to look at his teammates. "It seems we have an emergency, people. The meeting is adjourned. Prepare for leaving. Lioness, you know what you have to do."
Less than one hour later, the Rhymer is in Lioness' quarters, looking at the otherdimensional witch performing one of her enchantments. The white-dressed woman sits in a lotus position in the dark room, where the only light is shed by perfumed candles. The woman is still, only her head rotating slowly in an orbital movement.
"Yesss...." whispers Lorena. "I... see it. The barrier... a solid wall that dams the time stream."
"When?" asks the Rhymer.
"Two... two years from now... I can't see on the other side."
"Try, Lorena. We need to know who is behind this. The Arch-Moderator again... Gerald Forrest..."
"Nooo.... I cannn't. Wait! There is a portal! I can go through! Arghhhh!"
The Lioness jumps on her feet, screaming, her eyes wide open.
The Rhymer takes her between his arms, trying to comfort her. "It's okay, Lorena, it's all okay!"
The door opens, and Agent F7 appears. "Lory, what happened?" asks the British agent, worried. The woman leaves the Rhymer's arms to hug the man. "Nothing honey, nothing."
Agent F7 looks quizzically at the Rhymer, who just shakes his head.
Lorena sits down again, over her oriental cushions. Agent F7 opens the windows, letting the sun's rays light the room.
"There is a sort of time barrier near the end of the year 2001. I couldn't see on the other side, but there is a huge portal. Time exists on the other side, I just couldn't see it. But I can travel there, bringing you along."
"Okay, then," says the Rhymer. "There is nothing much to plan. Prepare a spare costume and your civvies, and grab a toothbrush. We are going to the future!"