by The Eurostar
"Again?" shouts Grimm, hitting his steel gauntlet on the desk. The desk does not break, but deep cracks enlarge from the impact point. Kit Piper, present, looked up helplessly as he thought about the invoice for yet another new meeting table.
Agent F7 gives grimm a hard look. "What does it mean, again? Whoever was in charge of that dome, he simply took use of the changing of the time stream. We could have defeated his schemes, but that doesn't change a pound for us. Our future has been cancelled. We are all destined to die. No, not to die, to vanish, to be erased from existence in a mere three years, and with us a world and six billion humans... and a whole universe, too, replaced by this reality, which is far worse than ours."
"Far worse? A fascistic global state of metaheroes would be better than this? Are you so sure about that?" says Drake, who has been silent until now.
Rhyme Guardian stands. "Don't you dare call us fascist, kid! I fought Hitler and Mussolini when your parents weren't yet born!" he shouts.
Ozzy slams his open hand over the desk, finally cracking it. "You don't know who you're talking to, Aussie! That man is a living legend!"
Lorena laughs. "You don't know who YOU are talking to. Rhyme Guardian is the embodiment of heroism, not your small-town vigilante!"
Baxter stands up. Lorena raises her hand toward the ex-boxer. "Freeze, love!" says Grissom, pointing a just-materialized revolver at the Latino woman.
"Put down your gun!" orders Zed, pointing his gauntlets to Grissom. Suddenly, he feels a cold and sharp arrow tip stinging his neck.
"Hands raised, man!" commands Brianna, pointing her armed crossbow at him from behind.
Guns, axes, and bare hands able to shoot laser bolts are quickly pointed at each other across the two sides of the splintered table. And the determination of each hero overcomes the pacifying thoughts of Tayden, who feels totally helpless. The air is tense, filled with anxiety and rage. It would take just the buzzing of a fly to trigger the first shot.
Rhyme Guardian speaks. "There isn't any reason to be worried. Gooz has accepted the X. It will just take hours before the time stream realigns itself, with Gooz not renouncing the X in 2001, and all will happen as Continuity planned. The heroes will win, the Courts of Light and Circles of Darkness will be defeated, and an age of prosperity for Earth will begin."
At that exact moment, the lights flicker and dim, and out of the darkness coalesces the familiar-yet-chilling presence of Prometheus X.
He looks at the heroes with his piercing, neo-purple eyes, and, much to the surprise of all those present, a gleaming tear, a single drop shining like silver, runs down his cheek. He grits his teeth and then whispers, "I... renounce... it."
The Earth is shaken, the sky becomes instantly clouded, and rain begins to pour down. Nature is crying.
Where Prometheus had stood now stands Ritchie Stevens. Outside, clouds dissipate, and the sun returns to glowing over the island.
The MBLers look at their former member in shock. The Vanguardians breath a sigh of relief.
Ritchie looks at his former allies with a sad look. "I... can't... change my mind, guys. What I chose three years ago was for the best. I... know how you can feel, but the war was something too... big... too evil... too unbearable for the world. Hell got loose on the surface... many lands were totally destroyed... and people experienced eternal damnation during their normal lives. You understand? There was no possible redemption! People went mad! All!"
Smasher frowns. "But we saw the future... the right future. It was a utopian world, not what you're telling us!"
Gooz smiles and shakes his head. "What you saw was the year 2003, yes... but the years were restarted after the war! It took two thousand years to rebuild a civilization... and it was a civilization of only metahumans, the descendants of those few metas that survived the war and colonized the planet. The humans... the normal humans... all die within one generation. Is that the future you want for the planet, Patrick?"
"You choose out of an egocentric point of view, Ritchie," says Smasher, sweating. "You choose personal peace at the cost of humankind. We could have fought back the damnation. Rhyme Guardian could have healed the minds and bodies of all humankind, if necessary."
"And who says the Rhymer was still with us?" observes Ritchie with a sad expression. "I choose this pact. I have chosen a normal life, with a woman and soon a son, renouncing godhood. I had the power to reshape galaxies, and now I edit video clips in my spare bedroom. Do you really think it's an egocentric choice, Patrick? This new history is experiencing a bad moment for the metahumans, that's true, but humans, with and without the metagene, have the resources to overcome this.
"Here Hell has never walked over the surface, and the only time it tried to do so, it has been stopped. It cost valiant lives, but it was just like a bad dream for the people. The soul of humankind did not have to suffer, Leaguers." He went to the windows, one of the few looking to the outside of the Complex. He looked at the sky. "You really think a world where the Warlord, the Arch-Moderator, Rae, or the Hypertime Entity are on the loose is better than this?"
"It's our world, Gooz!" says Lioness, desperately.
He opens his arms. "So is this! Each of you lives or have lived here. Things were just different. But what was important -- friendship and love -- were the same," he says, looking at Lioness and at Agent F7. "You must understand that, how much the time stream can bend and twist, it will never take away your lives. And be aware..." he says, looking first at the MBLers and then at the Vanguardians, "...be aware that, if time changes your lives into those of normal people, you don't have to despair, because there will always be new heroes."
All of them remain silent. Ritchie Stevens looks around, whispers a farewell, and crosses the door, leaving their lives, heading for his normal life.
The MBL returns to 1999, with the knowledge that time travel always makes memories fuzzy, and soon the bitterness of knowing their destiny would leave their minds. The only good they leave with is knowing that strange future is in the hand of their later successors.
Vanguard happily begins the arrangements for both the metahuman parade and the parties for Christmas and New Year. The adventure with the MBL is one of those things out of the ordinary, that seems so frequent those days, like the mission with Paragon and the Clockmen, or the merging of the Earths with TOMB. But there remain the good sensations of having accomplished something really big, next to the regret for not having discovered who was behind the experiment to bring the Hypertime Entity into their time continuum.
The man looks at the wreckage. What stands before him, to an unaware onlooker, appeared as mere rocks and ravines in the middle of the sand like every other part of the Sahara. But he knows that it concealed the largest advanced scientific laboratory of Earth, and now it has been destroyed.
The man shrugs. Another defeat at the hands of Vanguard. Luckily he was himself able to save the cadets just before the explosion. And although they were senseless, all was taped, so they would remain faithful to him for the rest of their lives.
But Vanguard... ah, Vanguard... what power, what resources hide in those men and woman. If only they would agree to be directed by him, trained by him to become the bone of his Strikeforce.
Jack Merlin looks at the desert one more time and then walks away, leaving the mess behind him.
The sun sets over the gulf. Two men of middle age sit at the table of a little bar looking over the beach and the sea behind.
"A carrot juice!" orders one of the two. The other looks at him, smiling, finding in that request so many memories of the past.
"And for you, sir?" asks the young waitress.
The man thought for a moment, and then shakes his head. "The same, thanks."
The other one explodes into a hearty laugh. "I thought I would never have seen you drinking carrot juice!"
"Things change," he says. Then, looking around, with a bitter tone in his voice, says, "Things change for real."
The other man nods. "But not for the worst, Zed. Not for the worst. I really can't say my life today is less entertaining, or worthy, than the previous one."
Zed nods at the waitress as she returns with the juices. He sips his own and then asks, "What do you do now, Cadet?"
"What do I do? I'm a researcher at MIT, working on virtual reality systems helping to recreate vision for blind people. And you?"
Zed leans back on the chair. "I'm a fireman."
The End