//------------------------------// // Issue Seven: Headaches and Horseshoes // Story: A Marvelous Rainbow // by ThePartyCannon //------------------------------// Agent Poindexter sat silently, watching his vision blur and swim before him. His eyes betrayed him, showing the room as moving and swaying. He knew it was caused by the heavy loss of blood, and shook his head in an attempt to alleviate his disorientation. But to no avail, the swimming came back tenfold. Finally, Poindexter lowered his gun. It was getting too much for him; he had to do something. He would bleed out before long. Seeking medical attention, Benjamin shuffled along the floor, slowly moving further into the castle. There had to be something in the bare stoney fortress to mend his wound. About halfway across the main hall, he found it. An open door rest to the side of the grand staircase. Inside was darker than anything he had seen before. Through the penetrating darkness, it seemed to go on forever, spiraling downwards into the earth. Despite it seeming inhospitable and abandoned, Poindexter heard something in its depths. The unmistakable pounding noise of machinery. Slowly getting onto one leg, he began descending into the darkness, using the wall for support. With a pounding head and an aching leg, the descent felt impossible. Every fiber of his being was shouting at him to fall to the ground and accept his final fate. But the sheer will to live kept him going, placing one foot in front of the other. After what felt like hours, but in reality wasn’t even two minutes, Benjamin found himself at the bottom, faced with a metal door. Despite Benjamin’s anticipations, the door was unlocked, and swung open freely. What caught him next stunned him. Green lights bathed the room, with monitors posted along the wall, showing everything from the castle he was in, to major metropolitan areas. He recognized New York City, Beijing, and Berlin, but there were many others along the wall. Around them, smaller monitors displayed data, which ran along their surface in an endless tide of numbers and figures. It hurt Poindexter’s head. Off to the side there was a second door, from which the cacophony of noise sounded. A metal locker was bolted to the wall near it, with a large red cross painted lazily over the front. Even through his delirium, he could see the padlock on the front. Without thinking, he picked up the nearest object to him, which happened to be a screwdriver from a near toolbox. With an overarching throw, Benjamin flung the screwdriver at the locker, and used his momentum to tumble his way near it. As he expected, the screwdriver struck true, hitting the padlock clean off. Something moved, forcing Benjamin’s heart into his throat. He looked around, stunned and afraid. He wasn’t alone. “Who’s there?” he asked, his voice weak and tired. “That was an exemplary throw, Agent Poindexter.” The voice was higher pitched, with a hint of a rasp to it. It spoke fluently and marvelously. “Despite a gratuitous amount of blood lost, you haven’t seemed to have lost your touch.” “Who are you?” the agent asked again, drawing his gun tiredly and scanning the room. “I’m nobody. But you, Agent… you’re something.” The voice said with venomous fascination. “I could use you. I know what you want.” “What do you mean?” he replied, finding nothing but shadows. The voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, in every direction. “You want power, as most mortals do. I can give you that power.” Agent Poindexter whirled around and shot once into the darkness. The room exploded with noise, and his head nearly split open from the sound. He expected to find his aggressor, but was disheartened only to find an obliterated pair of wings from the housefly he had just shot. “You missed me.” The voice said, accompanied by a whirling of fabric. The agent could feel the presence of the figure as it stood directly behind him. He tried to move, strained at his own muscles as they disobeyed his command. His mind hurt, but not from any injury; this was different. A tugging feeling. “Now, Benjamin, let’s look into that head of yours!” he snarled as he began pulling out memories. ***** Rainbow Dash clenched her teeth hard as the winged monstrosity known as Elendil charged her from the sky. It barreled towards her, wings drawn in in a cyclone of terror. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the heroic Steve Rogers begin to move to intercept the beast, but he was too slow. Rainbow took the entire weight of the creature, effectively being thrown from the top of the castle’s tower. Elendil’s sharp talons encompassed Rainbow’s lithe body, holding her in a vice-like death grip. At this point, most of Elendil’s prey would suffer from pressure so great, it would essentially liquefy their innards. Unfortunately Elendil wasn’t dealing with normal prey. Rainbow’s squirming body was impenetrable, and suffered no noticeable effects from the crushing attack. Enraged, the winged monster circled the tower, holding Rainbow Dash closer to her body. On his third pass around the tower, Elendil spotted his deadly master, facing off against a gargantuan brute of muscle and madness. Seeing his master falter brought rage to the being, who soared higher into the clouds, piercing the heavens with its shrilling cries. Rainbow’s ears began to ring. There was a striking feeling of familiarity with the monster. Rainbow noted keenly the leathery wings on the steed’s side, which mimicked her own, minus the feathers. It’s equine muzzle, though grotesque and misshapen with the addition of fangs, was nothing new to her. Even the way it spoke, in hellish, shrill whinnies and neighs got to Rainbow. I’ve got it! She thought to herself, momentarily forgetting the life-threatening peril of herself and her comrades, These are future ponies! Obviously they’ve evolved, or mutated by some crazy war or something. Yeah, that makes sense! Satisfied with her newfound explanation of the monster, Rainbow was able to focus her attention on the solution to the problem. Obviously anything she did wouldn’t hurt her, so her possibilities were seemingly endless! “Okay, time for something cool!” Rainbow sprang into action with the likeness of a beached eel. Instead of flawlessly breaking Elendil’s hold, she fumbled and squirmed around until she could get one wing out. Though not the entrance she had anticipated, it would have to do. Using her wing as a rudder, she altered Elendil’s course, decelerating him and causing a loss of altitude. Knowing her window would be small, she readied herself. Elendil, now in a dive, worked to secure his prey, and tried to get a better grip. For a split second he took his talon off of Rainbow to reposition it. At the same time, Rainbow extended her wings as far as she could, basking in the feel of the wind beating against them. Twisting her body, she put herself into a roll, breaking Elendil’s final hold on her. Free at last, Rainbow barreled to the surface. Her trick would only work once, so getting caught again wasn’t an option. She would have to take out Elendil. “Just do something super-awesome to impress them!” Grinning to herself, she centered her focus on the castle’s large northern wall. ***** Grime. Stink. Filth. Just a few words to describe the damp cubicle of masonry in which Agent Clint Barton sat. His jacket was scuffed and torn, and his trousers were covered in mud and blood. Shakily, he tried to stand. Nearly falling, he threw his arms out, catching the first thing they hit; a hanging chain. But instead of supporting his weight, the chain went slack and fell to the slimy ground along with the agent. A clatter of metal and bone surrounded the winded Clint. When he regained himself enough to see, he surveyed the area. The first thing he noticed was the human skull, sitting mere feet from him. Small strings of flesh still clung to the clean white bone. Clint reacted calmly, kicking it away from him with as much force as he could muster. His eyes were drawn up, away from the human remains. He was in a small cell, five feet wide. Stone walls lined three sides, with the fourth replaced by thick iron bars, which allowed only the bare minimum of light through. Clint ran his hands along the stones and used his keen eyes to search for a seam in the stone, but to no avail. Cursing and throwing his fist against the bars, he sank against the wall. “Barton?” The voice echoed across the room, reaching his ears. It sounded like it was only coming from a few cells over. The nonchalance and smoothness of the voice could be only one person, “Stark?” “Yep. Glad to see you’re alive, Robin Hood.” Clint scoffed, “I can’t say the same about your sense of humor, pal.” “You figured out a way out of this?” he asked from across the room. Clint couldn’t see him, but judging by the non-metallic voice, and the fact that he was still stuck in a cell, he assumed his suit had been taken. “Not yet. Why can’t you, mister genius?” “Cut me a break, I’m working on it. Just gotta give me time.” A slight rumble from above them caused Clint’s stomach to turn, “I don’t think I can do that, Stark. You gotta hurry.” Suddenly, the room was filled with the loud jingling of chains, clattering of metal, and scraping of bone. Though unseen, Clint knew Tony was working a way out of his cell. And from the lack of swearing, he figured it was going smoothly. His thoughts were confirmed seconds later by the crashing of the iron door. From his restricted viewpoint, Clint could see Tony, shirtless and bleeding, stumble out of his prison. “I’m out.” “I can see that.” Clint deadpanned. “Well… good job. Just because you’ve got eyes like a-“ “A hawk?” he finished, grinning. “I was gonna say finch.” “Just get me out of here.” Tony didn’t reply, and instead scoured the room for a solution. Finding it in the form of a ring of iron keys, Tony rushed to the aid of his companion. Quickly throwing the door open, he came face to face with his fellow SHIELD member. Clint on the other hand was worried for Tony’s health. Not only was he cut and bruised over his entire body, but his arc reactor shone dimmer than usual. “Is that gonna be a problem?” Clint asked, pointing to Tony’s bare chest. “Let’s hope not. What’s the plan?” Clint thought, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I just want to get the Hell outta here.” Tony nodded, “Sounds good. You do that. I’m gonna find my suit.” Tony began meandering across the room, walking in a wavering line for seemingly no reason. Thought it seemed he had an idea where he was going, something wasn’t right about him. “Come on, man, you’re hurt. Forget your suit, don’t you have a dozen of those?” Clint pleaded as a second wave of rumbling resonated the room. “What’s that noise?” Tony asked, seeming to ignore Clint. “I can tell you one thing; it’s not good. So let’s get going. The quicker we’re out of here, the better.” Clint said, taking Tony by the arm and pulling him in the other direction. His resistance was persistent, but feeble. “I think this is the way out.” Clint said, reaching a thin metal door on one end of the long room. Pushing it open with one arm and pulling Tony with the other, Clint entered the room. Immediately, he regretted his decision as nearly two dozen figures rushed at him, eyes glowing green. The sound of metallic joints squeaking filled the air, and became louder and louder as they approached. Backing out of the room proved fruitless as they ran into another figure. Clint spun around on his heel, ready to throw a punch, but hesitated at the sight of the man. His normally tidy black hair was tussled and covered in blood. He had ruined the pristine SHIELD suit, which rest over his shoulders practically in threads. In one hand, Benjamin Poindexter held a trio of throwing knives. “Poindexter?” Tony asked, disoriented. His only response was a flick of the wrist, sending a shard of metal hurdling towards Tony’s midsection. It impacted without a sound, save for the slight splatter of blood splashing on the floor. Clint rushed forward, prepared to tackle the rogue agent, but stumbled as his eye caught a second figure. From over Benjamin’s shoulder, a tall, gaunt figure stood, one hand outstretched. In dismay, Clint lost grasp of the situation, and took Benjamin’s right hook straight to the jaw. For the second time that day, Clint was knocked unconscious. ***** “Let’s hope this doesn’t hurt…” Rainbow gulped, nearing the castle’s wall. She was approaching it at an angle, hoping to crash land in one of the bottom levels. Her mach cone was weak, and nowhere near the speed needed for a sonic rainboom, but it would suffice. A quick peak over her shoulder revealed Elendil was still hot on her heels. Closing her eyes tight, Rainbow readied herself. The first impact couldn’t even be felt; she tore through the masonry as if it were tissue paper. A split second later, the wall took a second, larger projectile, followed by cries of pain and agony. Rainbow smirked as she neared the stone floor. This one would hurt. And it did. Despite her nigh-invulnerability, her face tingled as it took the front of the impact. Her meteoresque approach successfully carved a path through the castle’s floor, leading to the basement. Elendil followed, taking hit after hit on his way down. Emerging from her pile of rubble, Rainbow Dash looked around. Elendil lay a few meters away, unconscious or dead, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was she was resting beneath the castle, in a large cavernous room. It was filled to the brim with clunking machinery, churning away in its autonomous state. The noise was deafening, and confused the pegasus. “The buck is this?!” she exclaimed, throwing her hooves around, “More future stuff! This is getting old!” Her voice would have echoed, if not for the ear crushing noise of the factory. Manufacturing lines circled the caves, carrying an assemblage of parts across. Rainbow followed them with her magenta eyes, trying to find the end. But the machines were vast, and so many that it took ages to scan through the production. Eventually, she ended, and her eyes rest upon a group of humanoid figures. Though she was new to their forms, she could easily tell something was wrong with them. For one, they were made of metal. And second, most humans she had met didn’t have guns coming out of their arms. The figures charged her, spraying the area with a volley of bullets. The pinging and clanging of the projectiles surrounded her. The bullets’ impacts were hardly felt through Rainbow’s hide, but she knew there were many. The casings alone from their automatic assault were enough to smelt down and construct an entirely new robot. Rainbow made no attempt to find cover. She was her own cover. Standing proud and heroic among the carnage and destruction caused by her own face, she met her aggressors head-on. They attacked her up close, grappling at her hooves and throwing mediocre punches. It was too easy for Rainbow. They stood no chance for her invulnerability. She could hit them as hard as she could without injuring herself, and that’s exactly what she did. A wild haymaker to the right struck a robot in the head, shattering its plastoid skull and spilling its mechanical brain all over the floor. She took two robots by the shoulders and rammed them together with all her might, conjoining the two in a messy pile of shrapnel and debris. A bucking kick successfully sliced one of the robots in half from the force. As Rainbow tore through the waves of robots, she began to construct new, unique ways of dispatching her foes. After tearing one’s head off, she would use the body as a bat, crushing additional robots with their own fallen comrade. Or, using uncanny strength, she would crush one under the debris she had brought with her through the castle. Finally, as their numbers dwindled, Rainbow developed a growing sense of accomplishment. It was almost exhilarating to her, having so much power. Before, in Ponyville, she had always been the toughest, but there were times when that just didn’t cut it. Certain things, like manticores or dragons could put up a fight against Rainbow. But in the future world, where everything was fragile and weak, she was unstoppable. The elation was almost too much for her. As she crushed the final robot’s skull under her hoof, she looked around. No challenger showed themselves to her. She was victorious. “Awww yeah!” she shouted to the destruction she had caused, “You robots don’t have anything on Rainbow Dash, Fastest Flier in-“ “-Equestria.” Her neck snapped to the source of the noise. A trio of men approached Rainbow Dash. The middle man, tall and skinny, was obscured by shadows and darkness. But the two men flanking him received just enough light to be viewed, and, upon examination, proved familiar. Agents Barton and Poindexter walked towards rainbow, each brandishing a weapon. Poindexter held a short knife, and Barton had traded his traditional bow for a simple pistol. “Guys?” Rainbow asked, upon realizing the identity of two-thirds of the group. “I apologize for interrupting, Miss…” the voice paused for a second, stopping in his tracks. For a moment, Rainbow’s mind went numb, and she felt a vague tugging at the back of it. “…Rainbow Dash. Peculiar name, for sure.” The voice continued. “Who are you?” she asked, not threateningly. She was merely curious. “Oh, I’m nobody. Just a face in the crowd.” He explained in his raspy voice, “But you… I’d like to get to know you.” He finished sinisterly. ***** Captain America had finished his descent through the now ruined castle. As he emerged onto the front yard, it didn’t take him long to find his target. The gigantic green behemoth stood out like a sore thumb. At his side was the dreaded Black Knight, now comically small compared to the Hulk’s bulk. The Captain sprinted in to help his ally. But the Black Knight was persistant. He had withstood over ten minutes of nothing but assault from the Hulk; an impressive feat for anyone. His strategic mind and surprising agility kept him in the fight long enough to keep the Hulk busy. Now his mettle will be tested as a second foe joined him in the fray; the great Captain America. His first attack was simple to dodge; a generic right hook. “Doth thou insult me?” he jokingly asked, “Such a trivial attack couldn’t possibly have faltered my defense.” Steve knew he was right. If he could take the Hulk on one-on-one for as long as he had, a textbook approach wouldn’t work. What he had to do was stop the Black Knight from gaining the upper hand. To his side, lying in the damp grass not far from his enemy was the Black Knight’s lance. Save for the Ebony Blade, his lance was the deadliest weapon in his arsenal. Going for broke, the Captain rushed the Knight and charged for the lance. At the same time the Hulk worked his way around the tiny Captain Rogers, and flailed his arms at Nathaniel Garrett. Unlike Steve, who used military combat and textbook attacks, the Hulk used his own fighting style. Mostly because the Hulk couldn’t read or remember what textbook attacks were. Instead, he used his massive bulk as a wrecking ball, flailing around and hoping it would hit something. Unfortunately, the Black Knight was far too experienced in warfare to be fooled by such a barbaric tactic. A simple sidestep was all it took to give the Black Knight the opening he needed. A simple swing of the ebony blade struck true to the monster and, though it didn’t cause any physical harm, the psychic link to the blade and its bearer began to affect the Hulk. The Hulk’s mind, being weak of will, was easily overcome by the dark powers of the ebony blade. The Hulk brought his massive hands to his head, screaming to the sky in agony. It was a pain he had never felt before; like his brain was being fried in boiling oil. Smirking beneath his black bucket helmet, Nathaniel Garrett turned to his second target; Captain Steve Rogers. But Steve had different plans. While the Black Knight was dealing with the Hulk, Steve had gone off to the side to acquire Nathaniel Garrett’s lance. He held it in front of him, putting a good ten or twelve feet between the two men. The Black Knight wasn’t swayed, however, and casually advanced on the American. “An interesting piece of knowledge, mine friend,” the Black Knight said, toying at the end of the lance with his blade, “Whilst fighting thine Man of Iron, I had fallen victim to the simplest of counterattacks. I had mine own weapons turned against me.” Rogers tapped one of the several buttons on the lance’s hilt, hoping some defensive mechanism would activate. “Thou can thank your Man of Iron for inspiring me. I have had mine weapons installed so that only their true master could command them.” A thick black gauntlet grasped near the shaft of the lance, and viciously yanked it out of Steve’s hands. Without saying another word, the Black Knight drew his sword back, preparing to strike down Captain America. Steve closed his eyes, not wanting to see his fate as it was thrust down upon him. He readied himself for the pain. … Nothing. Slowly, Steve opened one eye. No one stood in front of him; all he saw was an incapacitated Hulk, lying prone on the grass, and the ruined castle on the horizon. It was as if the Black Knight had vaporized. Steve looked to his left, where the ground smoked in a hazy ring of singed grass. Following the trail made in the ground, Steve’s eyes eventually landed on the Black Knight, lying on the ground twenty yards to his right. The unmistakable figure above him gazed at the Captain. His red cape billowed in the late morning wind, and the hammer in his hand shone with a mystical blue light. Slowly, a smile crept across his lips. Steve sighed and gave a meager wave of his hand, “Thor…” he acknowledged. “Greetings, my friend.” Thor exclaimed heartily, “Quite the skirmish, yes? I’m lucky I arrived when I had.” “Sure are,” Steve said softly, pointing at the castle, “Tony and Clint are stuck in there, as well as one of our new agents.” An annoying jab at the back of Steve’s mind forced him to add, “Two agents, actually.” “I’m aware.” Thor said, making his way towards the castle, “Your newest arrival; the alien. I need a word with her.” “And what kind of word might that be?” Steve asked, jogging to catch up with the god. “With any luck, a peaceful one. If not,” he stopped, and grasped his hammer Mjolnir tighter, “I would suggest you find somewhere safe to hide while we ‘talk’.”