Avenger Assembled

Eventually, after much preparation, the heroes went into action. Avenger, Christmas Crusader, and Jack of all Blades went around past the empty reindeer pens towards the rear entrance of the Workshop, passing through doorways of cunningly shaped pine trees into a long corridor filled with cells constructed cunningly from Tinker Toys. Before Avenger could do more than speculate about why Santa Clause had a jail cell, suddenly a uniformed, bearded figure entered while dragging a white-faced older woman with chubby cheeks and grey hair in a disheveled bun. It didn't take long for Avenger to recognize the massive figure in blue and red, nor the lady he was manhandling. The Nutcracker's got Mrs. Claus! What the hell, he could roll with this. "Jack," he muttered to the swordsman, too quietly for the nutcracker to overhear, the wooden soldier busy with telling Ms. Clause how he was going to beat up all the nice children for Christmas, and take their cookies too, "You and Crusader take this guy. I'm the only one of us who can get through those bars without setting off some kind of alarm. I'll deal with the cells." And with that he slipped off to begin working on the cell doors, leaving Jack of all Blades to rescue a lady in peril! - Outside, no sooner had Victory, Dragonfly, Jill O'Cure, and Miss Americana entered the airspace over the workshop than a flash of ice and smoke erupted in the air nearby and an ethereal-looking woman in white and blue appeared with a look of sinister malice on her face. Through the snowy vortex behind her came a legion of furry giants on jetpacks! "Fools!" Desparia screamed. "You'll never have Christmas, never! All you've won is your doooooom!"

"I will," said Fusion, looking downcast but not defeated. She turned and stared up at the bulk of the equipment, her tentacles folded close around her midsection, as if she was hugging herself. "Since the accident mutilated me, I've spent every day of my life trying to be an example to women that they can still matter however they look, that they don't have to judge themselves or anyone else on the basis of their appearance." A thin smile appeared through her mask. "As bad as today was, at least I know some people don't. Thank you." And with that she flickered to invisibility, and swung away into the shining light of a Freedom City afternoon.

OK, what's next? (Maybe skip things ahead a bit, since we've gotten so slowed down?)

The bees were effusive in their thanks for both Fleur and Phantom, a noisy, fiery family reunion that looked like something from a drug-addled musician's fever dream. There were bee songs and bee dances, and the bees themselves chattering in booming buzzes that was a little hard to follow for native English speakers. There was a lot of work ahead of the bees, but the family really had been reunited, and the two heroines could be more than happy about the victory they'd won.

Phalanx and Psyche's joint effort dealt with the monster of adamantium in seconds: the two titantic teens swept in and pulled Adamant up and away, a well-placed tractor beam from Hellion's orbiting spaceship pulling the immortal, invincible killing machine up into the stratosphere with no more than an anguished howl from the unkillable monster that had posed such a threat to the world for so long. That left Wander, Edge, and Midnight to face off against the Beast of Kilimanjaro itself, a huge, hulking creature with gray armored skin like a rhino that towered as tall as a great bull elephant on two legs. Though it had been nearly double the size of Adamant, and was much larger than any of the kids, the great beast didn't look that formidable...until it suddenly gave a cunning leer and vaulted away in a high, surging arc that carried it over the side of the mountain.

"I'm going home," said Edge simply. "My family needs me, and I need to be there." He turned back and looked at Cannonade as he reached for the grapple gun at his belt, ready to hop his way up and start swinging through the skyscraper himself. "You got a chance to see what kind of man your grandfather was, Cannonade, and I guess I did too. They're both heroes, just like us. The question is, are you the kind of man he'd want you to be?"

"I must go," said Harrier suddenly, looking down at the city beneath them. "To be seen too close to a portal to the Terminus will be difficult for me," he explained with brutal honesty. "I understand that my life here is on the sufferance of the heroes of Freedom City. I don't wish to offend anyone. Victory, you must go and find your answers." His voice was serious as he faced the cyborg. "I will offer you whatever help I can. But fighting alongside me will only make what is already a difficult task harder. I am sorry for that." And with that, he turned and jetted away, his silhouette ominous against the darkening sky.

"I DON'T REALLY KNOW WHAT MONEY IZ," the giant bee explained, "BUT ZTATUZ ARE NIZE. I COULD BUILD ONE OF THE QUEEN! OR OF ME! I AM THINKING ABOUT BUILDING ONE OUT OF ROCK THE WAY GAIAN KNIGHT DID. HE'Z A PRETTY COOL GUY, BUILDZ ROCKZ AND NOT AFRAID OF ANYTHING." He bobbed slightly in the air. "ZO DID YOU WANT TO COME IN AND ALL?" The giant bee asked. "THERE ARE ZOME GUYZ JUZT HANGING OUT, AND THE GIRLZ ARE ZEEING IF THERE'Z ANYTHING WILD TO EAT. HEY! THAT REMINDZ ME! BEATRIZZ HAD A QUEZTION SHE WANTED ME TO AZK YOU IF I ZAW YOU, ZO THIZ IZ A GOOD TIME." Reaching out with a giant leg, the bee sketched a pattern as big as either of the two heroes in the dirt. "WHATZ THAT MEAN?"

The happy bees continued their almost-deafening celebration for a while, then the majority of them ducked inside to explore their new home, the sheer vibration of their wings making the earth vibrate ever so slightly under everyone's feet. Beeatriz stayed out to thank the two heroes again, looking as pleased as only a bee-monster can. "WE ARE FOREVER IN YOUR DEBT, GAIAN KNIGHT! WILL YOU ZTAY WITH UZ FOR A WHILE AND BUILD MORE HIVEZ?" she asked ingenously, though from her tone she didn't really expect a positive answer. "OR AT LEAZT VIZIT MORE? WHEN WE HAVE BABEE BEEZ, THERE WILL BE ZO MUCH ZPACE!"

"So that was real, at least," he said, letting out a sigh. "I wondered if it was all a fiction, if all our memories are just lies programmed into us by whoever made us. But if the city was real once..." He walked over and laid his hand on the wall, closing his eyes as he felt the wood beneath, rougher than the metal furnishings he'd known most of his life. "Don't tell people," he finally agreed. "Not until you have something more to show them than this. I can accept what you're telling me," he finally admitted. "Because of everything you've shown me, and because of everything I've been through in getting here. But most people wouldn't. Not even close." He turned back to Gina and took a breath, dismissing the irrational urge to hold his breath and see what happened. After all, he didn't really have lungs. "What do you need me to do?" he asked her. "How can I help you? With me, or with...with anything else? I owe you my life."

"It wouldn't be," said Sharl warily, still not ready to fully accept the reality she was giving him. "I don't know if it would be worse or better if people believed you or not." He sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair. "This wasn't supposed to be like this!" he suddenly yelled. "I was...I was just supposed to find out if aliens were real, and inspire people so they could know we weren't alone anymore. Not find out that nothing's real, and we're talking about my whole world like it's just a badly-built computer. You said the Centurion saved us. Who did this in the first place? Who would do something like this?"

He thanked her for the information and began a slow, measured exploration of the facility, methodically pacing the corridors and rooms as he measured length, width, and height by his own body. Once he'd have stood there at rigid attention for hours when not needed, but he'd lost both the talent and interest for that with soul freedom. He wasn't much for creativity, though, so with his question answered instead he occupied himself with quantifying the space where he found himself. Idle time was never something he'd dealt with the way normal people did.

"It has happened," said Sharl, his eyes widening as he went with the crazy story because it made the most sense...for now. "Or at least, something like it has. Those crazy cultists I told you about, their leaders say that all our reality is a lie, that we're just playthings of greater cosmic forces beyond us, and that all our morality and values are lies because of that." He gave her a suspicious look at that, and added, "If what you say is true, then there have to be ways of seeing through the simulation. Clipping errors, coding problems...or going into the network and coming back, not having any idea what it was. And if it's only getting worse, then that's going to happen more and more. And those cultists are dangerous. People have died."

Sharl quieted in a hurry at the thought of further demonstrations of what this place was really like. "I feel okay," he said with a teenager's neutrality. "Not as scared as I was, anyway," he added. Gina wasn't as scary as where he'd just been, even if he was worried about the consequences of making her angry. "When I go back, will I be able to come this way again?" he asked her. "Maybe...maybe some way different than I left?" He'd asked her a lot of questions, but she obviously knew much more about this situation than he did. "Getting here was awful, but this world you're showing me is fascinating. I'd like to learn everything I can."

"I guess I do," said the young man uncertainly, getting up and walking around the rooms. "How do you do that?" he asked her. "That trick with the plates, I mean. I thought you were just doing holo-programming outside before, but you just made that stuff appear and disappear. And it's got to be real, because a simulator couldn't make food I could actually eat." Unspoken was what she'd told him about the true nature of his reality, something he still didn't want to believe...evidence or not. _Is she telling the truth?_ "Are you just sitting at a desk with an avatar somewhere?"

“I knew it!” He snapped his fingers. “I knew aliens had been visiting us! All the stories about government conspiracies and mysterious contacts, it had to be real.” He asked her about several apparently famous cases that Gina knew nothing of, and he subsided a little. “Can I see it?” he asked her. “For real, I mean, not just in 2-D,” he said with a gesture to the TV screen. Thinking belatedly of his parents and family, he added, “I mean, uh, till you figure out how to get me back home. I’d love to see a blue whale before then, or a giraffe. Or a superhero,” he added.

She’d lost Sharl some time earlier, but he was already eating by then and she didn’t seem to notice. “It’s good to know for sure we’re not alone,” he commented as he ate. “Even as strange as this place is, it’s obviously based in reality somewhere. I know people who think that there’s nothing at all besides Tronik, that the Cataclysm destroyed all life but us, or that we transported ourselves to an empty part of the galaxy. And that there are people here as friendly as we’d be to strangers.” When he was done eating, for lack of a better idea he stacked the glass on top of the tray as if he was waiting for a recycler. “Thank you for the food, Gina. That was really nice.”

“That’s handy! You could fit a whole meal in your hand that way, even eating from unprocessed food like this.” He took a few bites of the hamburger the right way, making approving noises at the taste. “Well, uh, not everyone eats the way I do,” he admitted. “I mean, my parents like food that’s been cooked more, or in different ways. I eat junk food when I can.” He thought for a minute about her question, then said, “Well, we’ve got people who have more body fat than others, but I guess I never really thought about people that way.” He thought more about the world he’d seen through that TV screen. “Do people get fat because they take food away from other people?”

Cautiously, he took a few bites, the salty taste of the crinkled sticks immediately turning him to drink. “It’s good,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “It tastes a lot like fried carb sticks. I guess some things are universal. We use more salt when we eat, but this is still good.” He picked the pillowy top off of the hamburger and started to chewing on it. “And this is good too. Interesting texture,” he commented. “Is this a Big Mac? I saw a commercial for one on television.” Commericals, too, were something that ran between both worlds. _Or one world. Wherever she’s from._

“Amazing!” Short or not, her description had certainly caught the young program man’s attention. “It must be wonderful to have a whole world to live in, and so much space. I didn’t see real, natural land until I was 12 and my parents took me to the mountains for my birthday. Do you really have that much space to yourself?” he asked her. “Is that why you can afford all this advanced equipment?”

“Uh, okay...” He thought for a minute, trying to put things into words that he’d never had to explain to anyone before. “Like I said, I live with my parents on the eighth level of the 30th District. That’s the name of the building,” he added, “I saw that you call neighborhoods districts instead of buildings. It’s a nice place to live: it’s not nearly as crowded as the warrens down below, and we’re close to the rest of my family. There’s a good view when the weather’s right, and the anti-gravs in the upper floors aren’t nearly as loud as some people think. My father makes computers: he doesn’t program, he runs the quantum sculpting machines that actually build the processors, and my mother’s a doctor, she works mostly with old people. My sister is a sculptor. Uh, I had a pet slime colony till I was 12, but it eventually got a fungal infection and died. My favorite thing to do is VR, I guess, when I’m not monster-hunting.” He wondered if this was all a particularly sophisticated version of VR, in fact, but didn’t mention that. “What’s your home like?”

“Gina!” He took a few steps toward her, but didn’t quite touch. “I never thought I’d see someone real again,” he said apologetically, remembering how she’d pulled away when he asked for more information before. “Food would be...good.” He hadn’t really thought about eating. “Come to think of it, I’m not hungry,” he admitted. “And I should be. But I’d still like to eat,” he said, “It feels like a long time since I ate anything.” She reminded him of his mother, a memory which made his heart twist at the thought of what she must be going through. “What’s a flavanoid?”

“I’m sorry...” he said aloud, wondering if the question had chased her away. _I won’t ask that again!_ he thought a little desperately. He got up and paced nervously, listening to the ringing of his footsteps in his ears. _See, everything is still the way it’s supposed to be,_ he thought. _Nothing’s different...but, of course, it wouldn’t be, would it?_ For all that he was fascinated by the paranormal and other bizarre phenomena, Sharl wasn’t a deep thinker: he pushed aside the lingering fear of the network and quiet worries about Gina’s words, and concentrated on his simulated environment. And it was simulated; he had to believe that from how easily Gina had manipulated it. How else would she have so much space to use? Focusing on the television, he began flipping through channels. The world Gina was presenting to him was a strange one, that was for sure, a reflection of his own that was also very different. He was surprised to see almost nothing but humanoids on screen, and a relatively narrow range of skin colors and appearances at that. The strangest thing was probably the Sun in the sky: their sun was tiny, several times smaller than Bantam, but from the science channel he found it kept the planet much much warmer. _Look at all that land,_ he marveled. _And it’s so green!_ There was an incredible diversity of plant and animal life, absorbing his attention with fascination as he watched a dozen different nature shows. On closer inspection, though, this wasn’t such a utopia. The technology here was low, much lower than he’d ever heard of a civilized planet having, and people suffered for it. He fell into a world of war documentaries and crime dramas, wincing at every death his own world could have prevented, all those who suffered where they didn’t need to. _How do they live like this?_ It wasn’t until he found the local Freedom City news, who knew how many hours later, that he saw one answer. His first superhero was Dark Star, a heroic champion of glowing power rescuing people trapped underneath a collapsed bridge in a distant city, and soon there were hundreds more, so many that he was still watching when Gina got back online.

He thanked her again, flipping on the screen and watching as the 2-dimensional image sprang to life before him. Flipping through a few channels showed him a world very different than his own, one of vast open spaces combined with strange technology and people, though of course he’d need a much longer time to figure out what was really going on. A thought occurred to him, and he asked, “Can I see you?” ignoring the hotel commercial playing as he looked up at the invisible voice all around him. Maybe Gina would say no, if she was some kind of weird alien, but he was still curious enough to ask.

“Okay.” Still shell-shocked after the experience of nearly being torn to piece on the Internet, the teenage program rose to his feet and took a seat on the bed, running his fingers over the spread, clicking the light on and off, and exploring the new world that had bubbled to life alongside him. “Holy fuvg,” he muttered tiredly, “is this an incandescent bulb?” It wasn’t that he was unfamiliar with the concept, really, just that this sort of primitive gear was not what he’d expected the incredibly powerful Gina to produce. He kept his skepticism to himself as Gina produced the televiewer and computer screen behind him; he was not about to do _anything_ to alienate himself from the powerful entity who was his only friend and protector.