Civil War Prose Novel

by Stuart Moore

  Then Reed had vanished, spirited up to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier in the company of Tony Stark. I’ll meet you on-site, he’d said. And then, too quickly as always: Love you.

  Now Sue stood, backed up against a cracked concrete wall, watching a reborn thunder god call down lightning from the heavens. Thor’s hammer cracked and flashed, and rain began to sheet down onto the ruined factory. Up above, S.H.I.E.L.D. copters wheeled about, swerving to avoid the unearthly lightning bolts.

  Sue was still invisible.

  Tony’s metallic voice crackled in her earpiece: “Everyone stay back.” She watched through driving rain as She-Hulk, Ms. Marvel, and Spider-Man backed away from the source of the lightning. She couldn’t see Cap, but some of his Resistance—Luke Cage, Dagger, Patriot and Hulkling of the Young Avengers—moved in slowly toward the thunder god.

  Falcon dropped down out of the sky. “Thor?” he said.

  Thor turned dark, flashing eyes toward him.

  There’s something different about Thor, Sue thought. He looks…bigger than before. Massive, coiled with power. Malevolent.

  “Thor, what are you doing? It’s me, man. Falcon.”

  Hawkeye frowned, swept rain out of his eyes. “We all thought you were dead, big guy—”

  Thor didn’t speak. Just narrowed his eyes in anger, in godlike distaste. A drop of spittle formed on his curled lip, then vanished into the flood of rain.

  He raised his hammer again and hurled it, incredibly fast, into the assembled Resistance members. It struck Falcon in the stomach, knocking him off his feet, straight into Hawkeye. Tigra leapt away just in time to avoid their flying bodies.

  The hammer soared on, arcing upward as if nothing had interrupted its flight. It grazed Goliath’s cheek, drawing blood. Stature, the size-changer of the Young Avengers, shrank down just in time to avoid its path; but Dagger wasn’t so lucky. The hammer struck her straight-on, sending her flying into Speed and Patriot.

  Luke Cage stepped forward, yelling “I got this!”

  Cage’s skin, Sue remembered, was steel-hard. But not hard enough. Cage gritted his teeth, puffed out his chest toward the flying hammer. It struck him with tremendous force—and he flew backward, clear out of the factory. He soared out over the water, massive arms flailing, and came down with a distant splash.

  Sue looked around frantically, searching for Reed. There he was: on the far side of the chemical plant, a blur of stretching blue. Eyeing every move, like a biologist watching a new type of microorganism being born.

  Sometimes Sue hated his scientific curiosity.

  She allowed herself to become visible, and waved to him. Reed caught her eye, tried to smile, and motioned her toward him. She grimaced, nodded, and willed herself invisible again.

  She started toward him, skirting around the action, keeping a careful distance from Thor. The thunder god just stood, sneering, his brutish eyes following the long arc of his hammer through the air.

  As she circled the edge of the factory, Sue caught glimpses of several mini-dramas, each illuminated by a series of lightning flashes:

  Flash: On the edge of the plant, Daredevil and the Black Widow chased each other up jagged walls, through shattered windows, looming in and out of view through the sheeting rain. At the top of a disused chemical urn, Daredevil stopped and looked back down at the Widow, disappointment etched in the set of his mouth.

  Sue thought his mouth formed the words: You don’t know what freedom is.

  The Widow took careful aim with her stingers, firing off several bolts. Daredevil tried to dodge, but he was too slow. The bolts struck him; he arched in pain, then fell from his perch.

  When she caught him, the Widow’s expression was a mixture of contempt and regret.

  Flash: A bolt of lightning lanced down, over in the corner where Wiccan and Cloak lay drugged and unconscious. Hulkling—the Young Avengers’ resident strongman—leapt up and took the bolt before it could reach Wiccan. Hulkling screamed as the bolt burned through his chest. Then he fell on top of Wiccan’s unmoving form.

  He’s got a healing factor, Sue remembered. I think.

  Flash: Dagger pulled herself up off the floor, grimacing in pain, her tiny frame dripping wet. “Oh my god,” she said, her high voice barely audible over the storm. “This is wrong. We’ve got to get out of here. This is really really wrong—”

  Thor reached out a meaty hand and clasped it around his hammer, halting its flight. Lightning flashed from it again, like a further warning from the gods.

  Dagger’s right, Sue thought. Something was very, very wrong. She looked up and around, searching for Reed again.

  When did the world turn into this?

  The Resistance was beginning to regroup. Patriot, Speed, and Stature formed a line, protecting their fallen comrades. Hawkeye and Falcon exchanged frantic words, pointing at Thor.

  Thor just hissed, raised his hammer slowly into the air.

  Tony, Sue thought suddenly. Where is the all-powerful Tony Stark?

  Then Thor seemed to lurch forward, throwing all his weight against his hammer. It slammed into the ground like a pile driver. The floor seemed to explode upward in a blinding flash of light.

  Chaos, screams. The Resistance members were closest, so they were hardest hit; but Sue saw Reed’s coiled, flailing body whip up into the air, too. Her force field kicked on almost by instinct, blunting the worst of the impact, but she too found herself knocked off her feet. She landed hard against a wall, grunted in pain—

  —and saw, not eight feet away, Captain America. Bloody, battered, his face twisted in pain. Lying propped against the wall, rain puddling around his body, with the powerful form of Iron Man standing over him. Spider-Man stood, half-crouched, just behind Tony.

  “Cap,” Tony said, “Please don’t get up. I don’t want to hit you again.”

  Cap grunted, moved a hand to his back to brace himself. Tried to rise, and failed.

  “Your jaw’s practically hanging off,” Tony continued. “Just surrender and I’ll get you medical attention. S.H.I.E.L.D. has medics standing by.”

  “S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Cap said. It sounded like a curse.

  He grimaced, rose to his feet with great difficulty. Raised rheumy, furious eyes toward his red-and-gold enemy.

  “You really think I’m going down,” he hissed, “to some pampered playboy punk like you?”

  I should say something, Sue thought. I should stop this. But she felt helpless, almost paralyzed.

  This, she realized, was what it had come to: an irreconcilable battle between Iron Man and Captain America, each of them absolutely convinced his cause was just. Nothing could stop them, not gods, not villains, not even their fellow heroes. This battle would continue until one of them was dead.

  Spider-Man stepped forward. “I got this, Tony.” He moved in toward Cap again, gleaming like a newborn insect.

  But Tony shook his head, backed up a step. Pressed a stud on his glove.

  “Iron Man to all points.” His voice was loud, now, in Sue’s ear transceiver. “Activate your audio blocks.”

  Then he turned back to Cap and said: “This is going to hurt.”

  A horrible, screeching wail filled the air, seeming to stab right through Sue’s inner ear. Scorching, unspeakable agony. She fell to her knees, clutching her head.

  She smelled Reed before she saw him, felt his long, winding fingers dance across her face. He reached into her ear, flipped a switch on her transceiver. The noise subsided to a low, barely audible whine.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t have time to brief you on that part of the plan. Good thing you became visible, when the frequency-wave hit.” He smiled, a very tired smile. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  She stared at him for a moment. His familiar sheepish smile, his winding, elongated neck. His cheek touching hers.

  Then she heard the screams. The Resistance members writhed on the ground, moaning in agony. They had no protection against Tony’s aural assault.

  Captain
America rose to his knees, his mouth wide open in a silent scream.

  “You’re a tough old bird,” Tony said, “I’ll give you that. This frequency puts the human brain into shutdown. But look at you, still trying to get up.”

  Cap looked down, spat through his pain.

  “I’ll make this quick,” Tony continued. “Just close your eyes and you’ll wake up in our new detention center.”

  “This is horrible,” Sue whispered.

  “I don’t like it either,” Reed said. “But at least this way there’s no broken bones.”

  Another bolt of lightning cracked down. Reed turned to look at Thor, standing majestic and cruel in the center of the carnage. Rain dripped off his long golden locks, barely touching him.

  “Thor,” Reed said. “Stand down. The S.H.I.E.L.D. cleanup squad can handle things from here.”

  “Peter,” Tony said. “Take charge of the prisoners. We need to inventory them before—”

  “LOOK OUT!”

  Tony whipped his head up—too late. Goliath loomed over them, at least 20 feet high—taller than Sue had ever seen him before. His roar of pain filled the air; he had no protection against the frequency-wave. But he held above his head a massive, severed chemical vat, dripping with green liquid.

  With a howl of agony, he dropped his burden straight on top of Iron Man.

  Dagger—her eyes wide in agony—fired off a volley of blinding light-bolts. The vat hit Iron Man; the bolts struck the vat; and the vat exploded in a massive fireball.

  She-Hulk, caught on the edge of the fireball, screamed and ran, her costume flaming bright. The Black Widow rushed to help her.

  The flames flared high, grazing the cabin of a hovering S.H.I.E.L.D. copter. It lurched, rolled through the sky—and slammed into the airborne Ms. Marvel. She cried out, stunned, and tumbled to the ground.

  Good god, Sue thought. Have they killed Tony?

  Slowly the fireball subsided. And at its center, crouched on one knee, the silhouetted form of Iron Man faded into view.

  “I’m okay,” said Tony’s voice, through Sue’s transceiver. “Little singed.”

  And then she noticed: The whining in her ears was gone.

  The fireball hadn’t killed Tony, but it had deactivated his frequency-wave. The Resistance were climbing to their feet: Hawkeye, Falcon, Tigra. Dagger and the Young Avengers.

  Captain America raised an arm and yelled, “Attack!”

  Then he slumped forward and fell to the ground.

  Once again, the world exploded into flashing costumes and power blasts. Spider-Man faced off against Speed, snapping tentacles struggling to catch the fast-moving teenager. Falcon took to the air, dive-bombing the Thing. Hawkeye struggled to draw a bead on the Black Widow, who shot stinger-blasts back at his dodging form.

  Ms. Marvel rose slowly from the floor of the plant, winced as she put weight on an injured arm. Her eyes were red with rage.

  Captain America lay still, facedown on the concrete floor. Falcon called down to Hawkeye: “Hawk! Get to Cap. We’ve gotta get him out of here!”

  Sue turned urgently to Reed. “Reed. We have to stop this.”

  Sue thought she saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. “I’ve already deactivated Thor.”

  “What do you mean deactivated?”

  Tony Stark staggered forward, his armor audibly creaking. The explosion had done him some damage.

  “Regroup,” Tony said. “We’ve got to—”

  But Goliath had turned his huge body toward the assembled Avengers. He crouched down, grabbed at the jagged floor beneath their feet, and pulled. They toppled and flew up into the air. Force-blasts went wild; Ms. Marvel tumbled through the air. Spider-Man shot out with his webbing, grabbed on to a half-collapsed support beam.

  Thor turned to watch the chaos. Lightning sparked.

  Falcon swooped out of the sky, carrying Hawkeye in his arms. Hawkeye pointed down toward Cap’s prone body.

  Slowly, the thunder god reached out with his hammer.

  Goliath turned to him. “Get ready for the shortest comeback in history, Thor.”

  No, Sue thought. Oh, no—

  Thor’s hammer glowed bright, brighter than ever before. With a deafening crack, lightning flashed forth from it, plowed straight through the air—

  —and punched a hole straight through Goliath’s chest.

  Then there was blood and lightning and rain, and Goliath’s twenty-foot body toppled back into the far wall of the chemical plant. Landed with a crash, shattering plastic and metal and concrete.

  Still invisible, Sue crept up to him. She didn’t care what Reed thought. She didn’t care if S.H.I.E.L.D. grabbed her. She didn’t even care if Thor’s lightning flashed out again, claiming her as another victim.

  She touched Goliath’s cold, meter-long hand, saw the smoke rising from the hole where his heart had been. And she knew: He was dead.

  Rain continued to pound down all around. But the battles had stopped. Ms. Marvel held her arm, wincing in pain. She-Hulk was down, burns covering half of her body. Iron Man still knelt unsteadily, rebooting critically damaged systems.

  S.H.I.E.L.D. hovered above, watching with cold, mechanical eyes.

  Everyone else just stood very still, staring at the 20-foot corpse of a hero who had dared to defy the Superhuman Registration Act.

  Sue felt nothing. She felt cold. All she could think of, the only thing that came to mind, was a phrase Tony Stark had uttered during his famous press conference: “Stamford was my moment of clarity.”

  This, she realized, is mine.

  The Resistance were scrambling around, traumatized. Falcon and Hawkeye had made their way to Captain America, scooped him up. The Young Avengers moved to join them, with Dagger close behind. “Fall back—regroup,” Falcon said. “We’ve got to get out of here or we’re all—”

  Thor turned toward him, raised his hammer again. His eyes narrowed with inhuman cruelty, and lightning shot forth again. The same force that had killed Goliath, aimed now at the entire, assembled Resistance.

  Iron Man flew forward, his damaged armor wobbling in the air. “Thor!” he cried. “NO—”

  —Reed started toward them, but shrank back from the godlike assault—

  —and then Susan Richards, the Invisible Woman, founding member of the Fantastic Four, leapt over to join the Resistance. She gritted her teeth, raised her arms, and erected the largest force field of her career.

  Thor’s lightning flashed, sputtered against the field, and stopped short.

  Iron Man and Spider-Man darted eyes and sensors around, searching for some new enemy. Behind the force field, the Resistance members were equally puzzled. The Falcon held Cap’s limp form in his hands.

  Sue stepped outside her own force field, facing Thor, Iron Man, and Spider-Man directly. She willed the field, behind her, to full strength.

  And became visible.

  Ben Grimm, the Thing, lurched forward. He stared at her, astonished. “Suzie? What are ya doin’?”

  Tony Stark swiveled his eye-lenses from Reed to Sue, then back to Reed.

  Thor fixed her with a murderous glare. Began to raise his hammer.

  Reed coiled his way forward, snaked his head in front of the thunder god. “Emergency shutdown code!” he said. “Authorization Richard Wagner, 1833-1883.”

  Thor’s eyes went blank; for the first time, his expression softened. The lightning-energy faded, and the hammer slipped from his limp fingers, clattering to the floor.

  Sue gritted her teeth; the strain of maintaining this huge force field was enormous. She turned, glanced back at the Resistance. “Get out of here,” she said. “Now.”

  Patriot gestured across the floor, at the limp bodies of Wiccan, Hulkling, and Cloak. “What about them? Our wounded?” They lay across the room, out of range of the force field.

  “She’s right,” Falcon said. “We have to leave.”

  Sue turned, reached out her hands…and the Resistance began to disappear. First Hawkeye and
Tigra, then Patriot, Stature, Speed, and Dagger. At last there was only the Falcon, still carrying their fallen leader’s unconscious body.

  “Susan,” Falcon said. “Thank you.”

  Then they too were gone.

  Sue’s power was invisibility, not teleportation. The Resistance would have to make their own escape. But at least she’d given them a head start.

  To Sue’s surprise, no one made a move toward the rebels. Black Widow was busy bandaging up She-Hulk and Ms. Marvel. S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed confused, conflicted; their copters wheeled up and about, surveying the landscape but not moving to pursue. Tony’s movements were still jerky, uncoordinated. Thor stood stock still, a statue in the rain.

  Ben and Reed, Sue’s teammates and family, just stared at her. They seemed stunned, shell-shocked.

  Spider-Man sat crouched on a wall, staring at the smoking body of Goliath.

  Reed snaked an arm toward Sue’s waist. “Darling—”

  She flinched away, whipped her head around. “Don’t even speak to me. Not one damn word.”

  And then, one more time, Sue Richards vanished from sight.

  DATA assaulted Tony Stark from all sides. Medical reports. Routing checks on the new prisoners. Statements from Congressmen. Maria Hill’s voice, like sandpaper, requesting a strategy session. Reports on the Initiative training camps being constructed in Arizona and elsewhere. Funeral arrangements. Hundreds of emails from reporters, mostly asking what the hell had gone down today on the west side of Manhattan.

  Beside Tony, in the elevator, Reed Richards snaked his head up and down absently, muttering to himself.

  Tony flipped his helmet up off his face, cutting off the data flow. “Reed? You all right?”

  Reed’s head was up by the ceiling now. He stared at a light fixture, his lips moving almost soundlessly.

  “Reed.”

  “Mm? Sorry, Tony.” Reed’s head snapped back down onto his body, like a turtle retreating into its shell. “I was running those Negative Zone calculations in my head.”

  His eyes looked wide, haggard.

  “She’ll come back, Reed.”