LNH: Beige Midnight #3: Imperium Hex Part III: 'The Final Piece'

[Arthur Spitzer]

[Cover: A smiling Hex Luthor stands over a large golden globe of the
world that is cracked all over and has a missing piece. In his hand he
holds the missing piece. Various tiny superheroes try frantically to
escape from the inside of the globe, which appears to have flames
shooting out of it. At the bottom in large text is written 'Imperium
Hex Part III'.]

**** <<--BM-->> ****

The place -- Net.ropolis.

The time --

B E I G E

M I D N I G H T

The number -- T H R E E

The Writers -- Arthur Spitzer, Saxon Brenton, and Martin
Phipps

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Joe Ordinary looked through the church window. The windows were
supposed to be made of stained glass but the colours had faded so Joe
could see the sky outside. Except the sky wasn't blue or grey: it was
beige. Joe couldn't tell if it was a clear day or if it was clouded
over: the clouds and sky were now all the same colour.

"I don't know if I can go through with this, John," he said to his
brother.

"You're getting cold feet?" his brother asked.

"It seems silly of me to pretend to be starting a new life when
everything could be about to end."

John shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe the LNH will save us. Or God.
We are in a church after all. Maybe God will save us."

"Right," Joe said. "God saves people who happen to be standing in
churches when the world ends."

"Don't be like that, Joe. This is supposed to be the happiest day of
your life."

Joe took a moment to check his tux. It was black and white when he
bought it. Now it was black and beige. If the world survives this
crisis, how will he explain the wedding photos to their children?

Joe then looked out into the crowd. He saw his Mom and Dad sitting
up front in the pews. They were putting on a brave face: they didn't
want to spoil everything by panicking. Joe decided to do likewise.

Jane's family wasn't there. They were from out of town. Way out of
town. They were probably huddled up together in a church of their own
praying for salvation, not just simply because the world was coming to
an end but because that's what they did. They probably considered
themselves very lucky: the world was coming to an end and they were way
ahead in terms of time spent praying.

"It doesn't look real," Joe said.

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"It looks like... it's like I'm looking at a black and white comic.
An old black and white comic that's been left out in the sun and the
whites have turned beige. It doesn't look real."

"So?"

"So maybe that Vincent Stomper guy was right. You know, the LNH
Doctor. The one on TV."

"Right about what?"

"That nothing's real. That everything was created by Writers."

"Stop it," John said. "This is not the time nor place to convert to
the Church of the Fourth Wall."

"I'm just saying..."

"That's all mumbo jumbo. Like scientology or fa long gong. You need
to keep faith in the old religions."

"So why aren't we all worshipping Zeus then? Or Amon Ra?"

"I'm just saying now isn't the time to lose your faith, Joe," John
argued.

"I don't know, John," Joe countered. "If this is the end of the
world then it isn't exactly what Revelations described, is it?"

Just then the organ started playing music. Joe recognised it as "Here
Comes the Bride". Joe looked down the aisle and saw his wife to be.
Unlike Joe's relatives, Jane actually looked darker: her face looked
like a black ink spot with two beige eyes and bright beige teeth. Her
wedding dress was beige too. If there was a God then perhaps he was
mocking her lack of virginity.

Nothing looked real to Joe. But he had to continue nevertheless. The
last thing he wanted was for everyone to panic. Best they carried on
like everything was normal.

"You look beautiful," Joe said to Jane as she approached the altar.

"Thank you," Jane said, "and you look handsome."

The minister cleared his throat. "Dearly beloved," he began, "we are
gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.

"Now today is a special day, as you all know, so I'll try to make
this a bit quicker than usual. How special this day will be remains to
be seen. But if this is to be the end of the world then rest assured
that if this world fades away then we will all be carried off by the
Lord to the next. And we are here today to make sure that in that world
to come that Joe Ordinary and Jane Smith will be husband and wife.

"I take it you both want to go through with this?" he asked the couple.

"I do," said Joe.

"That wasn't it," the minister said. "I was just making sure you
were ready."

"It's okay," Jane said. "Let's do this."

"Very well," the minister said. "Do you, Joe Ordinary, take Jane
Smith to be your lawfully wedded wife, do have and to hold, to love and
to cherish, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health and till
death do you part?"

"I do."

"Okay," the minister said. "Do you, Jane Smith, take Joe Ordinary to
be your lawfully wedded husband, do have and to hold, to love and to
cherish, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health and till
death do you part?"

"I do."

The minister looked to John, Joe's brother and best man. "Do you
have the rings?"

"They're right here," John said. He gave one to Joe and one to Jane.

Joe took the ring and placed it on Jane's finger.

"Repeat after me," the minister said. "With this ring, I thee wed."

"With this ring, I thee wed."

"Now you," the minister said to Jane.

Jane placed the ring John gave her and placed it on Joe's finger.

"With this ring, I thee wed," she said.

"Alright then. Does anyone here know of any reason why these two
should not be married? If so then speak now or forever hold your peace."

Nobody in the church spoke up.

"Alright then," the minister said. "By the power vested in me by the
Lord God and by the city of Net.ropolis, I now pronounce you husband and
wife. You may kiss the bride."

Joe kissed Jane. Joe's family clapped and cheered. Then, suddenly,
there was a rumble. Everybody looked out the window. A bright beige
light was shining through.

"This is it," Jane said. "It's the end of the world."

No, Joe thought. Not now. He was hoping the world would exist long
enough for them to have a honeymoon.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

IMPERIUM HEX PART III

'The Final Piece'

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Several Days before --

The Gothic Gorilla turned both shower knobs. Hot and Cold water started
to pour out. The Gorilla tested the water with his hand. And then he
turned his head around. Did he hear something? A noise? He went over
to his bathroom door and looked out. Nothing. He shut the bathroom
door and locked it. He then took off his famous black trenchcoat
covered with silver pins and charms and hung it on the door. He pulled
the shower curtain open and stepped into the shower. He grabbed a piece
of black soap and started whistling the Alice Cooper tune, 'No More Mr.
Nice Guy' to himself.

As the Gorilla started to wash his face with the soap, the Gothic
Gorilla's shower curtain began to move. It began to change shape. And
it lunged at the Gorilla. A Pulsating blob poured itself onto the
Gorilla and began to pour its arm right into the Gorilla's mouth and
nostrils. The skin on the blob like creature began to harden and change
into spikes and razor blades.

The Gorilla struggled against the blob like creature, but couldn't chant
a spell as the creature's arm choked him. The battle lasted about 12
minutes, but in the end the Gorilla stopped moving. He just lay there
in a pool of bloodied water not moving. Not moving at all.

The blob changed shape into a more human form. The form of an old
friend of the Gorilla's -- The Very-Disturbed-Scary-Creature Man. He
smiled at his work.

"Not so smug now -- are you? Not so powerful. No. Just dead. Dead.
Just another dead ape. This is how it begins."

He stepped out of the shower and onto a bath mat.

"This is the beginning."

Mr. Nasty laughed.

"The beginning of everything."

**** <<--BM-->> ****

On the other side of the world --

Anal-Retentive Archive Kid sat on a rock beside Lenny and watched the
sunset. Or rather, he watched some of the others watch the sunset.
Lenny himself gazed at the scene of the starkly beautiful and deadly
mountain landscape with the type of Zen calm that most people would find
bizarre from an intelligent squirrel. However, Lenny was a spirit
entity that was literally tens of thousands of years old, and who had
been created with an instinctive understanding that humans often failed
to grasp: that each part of the Earth was important and should be
appreciated on its merits.

By contrast Twitter was admiring the sunset with the enthusiasm that was
typical of her. She stared at it, taking the time to look and see
something new and wonderful that most people would dismiss as
commonplace, and even as she was standing still there was a pent up
energy about her that suggested that at any moment she would race off to
investigate something else mundanely remarkable. Anal-Retentive Archive
Kid wished he had her energy.

It had been a long week, what with having to put a stop to the raids by
the herd of weregoats, the giant stone statue that had been reactivated
by an archaeological expedition and then gone on a rampage, the crashed
spaceship that had been repairing itself with body parts cannibalised
from Coalition soldiers and Islamist insurgents alike, the plague of
frog (there was only one frog involved, but it had rapid-fire teleport,
so persistence of vision made it look like there were thousands of the
blasted thing), and the occasional suicide bombing attack. In between
all that the net.heroes had also been forging ahead with the search for
their mcguffin. ARAK could only assume that the fact that they hadn't
found it yet was an indication that they hadn't gone through enough plot
complications to have 'earned' it. Hopefully that would soon change.

Suddenly Twitter was standing next to him. "This is neat, It reminds me
of some of the pictures of the Bad.LAN.s National Park."

"You've ever been there?"

She shook her head. "I never got to travel much when I was a kid," she
admitted.

A short distance away Fourth Wall Lass was looking thoughtfully at the
nearby terrain. "There," she said to the other members of the Bicycle
Liberation Front, and pointed at a section of rock face that looked
absolutely no different to any other. "There's a chamber complex sealed
off through there, about 200 feet inwards and downwards."

The others came over to see. Throughout this hunt they had been
following hints and oblique references that Anal-Retentive Archive Kid
had been able to ferret out, often from his copy of the Junior
Word.chuck's Guidebook. Then, once they were in the approximate
geographical location Fourth Wall Lass had then been able to focus in on
the hiding place.

Retcon Lad asked, "Do you want to investigate this now, or tomorrow
morning when we're fresh?"

Fourth Wall Lass let out her breath in a harried sound. "To be honest
I'd prefer to get this over and done with, just in case it's another
dead end and we need to move on. I know I keep going on about this, but
I don't think there's much time left."

The others gave her a look of sympathy than nevertheless included a bit
of exasperation. "Well there's irony for you," said the
Net.Elementalist. "Most LNHers have been sitting around going stir
crazy from boredom waiting for the Bryttle Brothers to wake up, but
you've been running yourself ragged."

"Don't I know it," she said, running a hand through her hair and
sounding irritable.

"Maybe you should ease back a bit," suggested Twitter. "I know I'm only
a newbie, but I have learnt enough that there are lots of other people
preparing for Beige Midnight, You don't have to handle everything."

Fourth Wall Lass glared at her. "Then you'll die."

"Me!?"

"Yes. *You!* Not us. We're established characters. There's no more
chance of us being killed off in an imprint wide crossover than there is
of the Writer's really giving Dekay and Diskolor the opportunity to
destroy the Looniverse. But you're one of the tens of thousands of new
Legion members that the Writers brought in as cannon fodder. The
Writers don't think of us as real people, and they'll sacrifice you with
the same ruthlessness that Hex Luthor would. And so far none of my
plans to help stop it have borne any fruit," she ranted. "Don't you get
it? I've done my best to stall Beige Midnight, I've pointed people in
the directions they need for their own preparations. Fsck! I've even
conspired with supervillains to get them to do their part. But it's not
doing any good! You should run Twitter. Just run, and run, and run,
and find the deepest, darkest hole you can and hide in it until this is
all over, and then maybe you'll live to tell the tale. But don't look
to me, because I CAN'T SAVE YOU!"

The Bicycle Liberation Front stared at her. Retcon Lad put one arm
around her shoulder, and Fourth Wall Lass didn't resist. Despite her
agitation it seemed she was too worn out emotionally.

Finally Twitter demanded, "And what type of a net.hero would I be if I
ran away when the world needed saving?" She looked embarrassed, then
said, "Look, this scares the crap out of me, and maybe I'm doing this
for all the wrong reasons, but you have to understand that I've spent
most of my life locked away in 'special schools' because I had telepathy
that was out of control, Then when my parents heard about the Freedom
Chips they were using to give people superpowers they jumped at the
chance to give me one because if nothing else the Legion had a training
program under the NRAct to deal with super abilities and that was
cheaper than institutional care, Now I find that the Freedom Chips are
about creating an expendable mind controlled army and that pisses me
off, And then there's the fact that maybe my powers will be taken away
after all this is over, and part of me thinks it would better if I just
died fighting Dekay and Diskolor rather than go back to being like that,
I just don't know what to think anymore." She rubbed her face with her
hands, looking every bit as harried as Fourth Wall Lass did. In a more
even voice she said, "What I'd like to do is just try to help, because
that means I can hang out with my friends who treat me like someone with
just another slightly screwball power rather than as a net.ahuman basket
case who's going to accidentally suck out all their memories or something."

"That may be the worst irony of the lot," said Retcon Lad gently. He
briefly nuzzled Fourth Wall Lass's hair with his nose and explained,
"It's all the glory hounds and people who'll want to leave when they
find out the risks involved - the ones who are least worthy of making it
through Beige Midnight - who've got the best chance of surviving. And
all the people who are brave and honest and true are the ones taking the
risks and have the smallest chances of survival."

Fourth Wall Lass pulled away. "Yes," she said. She looked calm now.
Terrifying calm, actually. She placed her hands together and bowed her
head a little and said, "And that is why we need to keep working at this
tonight. We have a lot of work to do and we're running out of time.
Netty, would you dig us a tunnel, please. It's not too far, and the
rock will be solid enough to keep the entrance from collapsing."

"On it," the Net.Elementalist said. His costume turned brown as he
gestured with one hand and began manipulating the element of keystroke
to carefully shape a tunnel in the rock in the direction that Fourth
Wall Lass had indicated. He even went to the trouble of sculpting a
series of regular steps to account for the downward slope.

################
#\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\#
#\ \ \ \ \ \ \\\\\\#
# \ \ \ \\\#
# \ \ \#
# \ \ \#
# \ \#
# ___#
# ____/___#
# ___/________#
# __/____________#
# _/_______________#
#/_________________#

While he was doing this ARAK and Lenny unpacked some breathing masks for
the group in case the air was stale, and once the tunnelling was done
they all took their gear, turned on their lights (Lenny and the
Net.Elementalist using their abilities to create varying types of glows)
and went inside.

"So, uh, what exactly is this plot device mcguffiny thing needed for?"
asked Twitter. "I mean, how does taking out Hex Luthor as President
help defeat the Bryttle Brothers?"

Fourth Wall Lass explained. "When the Looniverse was recently invaded
by the Legion's counterparts from the Evilverse, the Legion was able to
drive them off. Hex realised that the Legion of Net.Heroes was a
powerful force for dealing with invaders and uprisings and villainous
attacks that he could use to secure his power base against assault.
[noted in _58.5_ #29 - Footnote Girl] The problem is that thanks to the
warnings that Bicycle Repair Lad gave us most of the LNH knows he's up
to no good. If he's still President by the time Beige Midnight arrives
then the Legion will be distracted by trying to resist his manipulations
and they won't be able to put their full effort into fighting the
Bryttle Brothers. Therefore we need to expose what he's up to and
decisively discredit any attempts to use his authority. Ah, here we are."

The group looked about the chamber carefully. Anal-Retentive Archive
Kid was almost immediately disappointed. It was a large complex full of
all sorts of incredible decorations and architecture that would no doubt
be of vast archaeological importance, but which was nevertheless not the
type of style he was expecting. So when Retcon Lad looked at him and
asked, "Well?" ARAK replied, "I don't think there'll be a magic wishing
lamp here, but we'd better check anyway."

"Hey, check this out," said Twitter. She was kneeling beside a wall
examining the markings on the wall. They were more of a decorative
pattern than any sort of hieroglyph, but by touching them she had
discovered that they had started to glow a pale blue. That glow now
spread to the other markings about the place, and soon the chambers had
been lit up, showing that if anything they were bigger than they had at
first seemed.

"Ooo. Sparkly," said Retcon Lad, facetiously ripping off someone else's
catch-phrase. Then in a normal voice he added, "Let's be careful about
this. Is there any indication of what we're after?"

"Over here," said Fourth Wall Lass. She had made her way to the metal
door into another room. She opened it, and inside the net.heroes could
see a trio of large metal cylinders, about the size of scuba tanks,
which were covered by a complex network of metal pipes and nozzles.

The Bicycle Liberation Front looked at the metal things. "Those don't
look like genie lamps to me," said Twitter.

"They feel magical," said Lenny. "But they don't seem to have any
spirits bound to them or imprisoned within them."

"So what are they?" asked the Net.Elementalist.

"Some type of thingummy," speculated Retcon Lad.

"They're artifacts," said Fourth Wall Lass with a slightly distracted
tone of voice as she tried to decipher some minimal and truly arcane
narrative descriptions. She frowned. "They were created by... Who's
Url.za?"

"Url.za?" said Anal-retentive Archive, surprised. "Url.za and Mish.ram
were two brothers from, oh, millennia ago. They were
sorcerer-artificers who where at war with each other, and built all
sorts of doomsday weapons."

"Doomsday weapons?" repeated Twitter.

"Those two were really big on doomsday weapons," said ARAK as he looked
at the items with a mixture of interest and disquiet. "Um. Crap. I'd
been kind of hoping that since there haven't been any new issues of
_Digital JUMP_ in almost half a decade that the Dominaria parody that
Andrew Perron had been threatening to do was dead in the water, and we
wouldn't have to worry about any of Url.za and Mish.ram's little toys
cropping up." He began leafing through the Junior Word.chuck's
Guidebook, then comparing the symbols on the cylinders with what he
found in the book. "Hurm."

"Good news or bad news?" asked Lenny.

"That depends. I don't think these are storage containers, so we don't
have to worry about them having gone rusty over the last few thousand
years and be at risk of rupturing and spilling out anything nasty. On
the other hand, I think they're alchemical generators that synthesise
and spray out large quantities of chlorine trifluoride."

Fourth Wall Lass, the Net.Elementalist and Retcon Lad all whistled.
Playing a wide range of RPGs meant that gamers sometimes picked up the
most arcane pieces of trivia about kewl new ways to deal out damage to
things. So when Twitter asked, "What?" the Net.Elementalist answered,
"It's a highly toxic and reactive chemical. At one stage it was used in
liquid rocket fuels. Spill it on the ground and you can literally set
concrete on fire. Nasty stuff."

"Burn everything in sight, and produce clouds of hydrofluoric acid as a
by-product," agreed ARAK. He closed the book. "Forget it guys. Unless
FaWL thinks there's anything else here that's worth our attention, then
I say we get out of here, have Netty seal up the entrance behind us
until we can call in the military and have them take possession of these
things as a specialised case of unexploded ordinance."

They left the room and closed the door behind them. The
Net.Elementalist summoned a small but intensely hot flame to one
fingertip and used it to inscribe the warning 'chemical hazard' on the
metal door. Possibly that was what set off the attack by the sentry robot.

A gigantic figure that looked like it was merely a decorative telamon
column fashioned from time tarnished metal suddenly lurched to life and
tried to pound the heroes. Twitter was instantly running around its
legs and feet, hitting it and trying to find a weak spot. Retcon Lad
yelled, "Destroy that thing before it sets of Url.za's bombs!"

The Net.Elementalist was about to summon up an even bigger jet of flame
to blast the giant, but Fourth Wall Lass got the decisive strike in
first by opening a gap in the fourth wall over its head and sliding it
down around its neck before closing it. The head of the sentry was
sliced off and disappeared into the extra-dimensional space on the other
side of the fourth wall.

It wobbled for a second, and Fourth Wall Lass wondered if she would have
to slice all its limbs off before it would be completely incapacitated.
Then it fell to its knees before collapsing onto the floor. "Huh. I
guess it was built anthropomorphic enough to actually have its brain
stored in its head," she said. Then she opened the fourth wall again
and let the head fall unceremoniously onto the heap with a jarring thud.

"Are there any more guardians?" asked Lenny as they stared around at the
other decorative figures that lined the walls.

Fourth Wall Lass's eyes narrowed as she scanned the narrative captions
for indications of more danger. "No. But an Al-Qaeda Amerika squad is
about to attack us in three seconds from now."

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Back in Net.ropolis --

A secret meeting place --

<<This is a sad day. For the world has lost a great hero. A great
gorilla. A great friend." The Ultimate Savior paused after saying that
wiping a tear from his eye. "His death will not be *unavenged*. His
killer will be brought to justice. Yes. We know who he is. He's a
former Coastal City crime boss and enemy of the LNH. A criminal
mastermind. His name is Mr. Nasty. And not only has he killed the
Gothic Gorilla, he also killed another dear friend of mine. My friend
the Very-Disturbed-Scary-Creature Man. And now he's posing as my
friend. But not for long. It's over Mr. Nasty. I'm going to hunt you
down and bring you to...>> A plastic rat interrupted the TV's broadcast
when it flew right into the TV set smashing right through it.

"Lying. Murderer. Going to feel pain. A whole multiverse of bone
breaking fraggin'." The Very-Disturbed-Scary-Creature Man crackled his
knuckles. "Going to find him and make him..."

"Easy there VDSCM," said Fearless Leader trying to calm the Creepy
Crusader down. "This is what he wants you to do. You need to stick to
the plan and..."

"The hell with the plan. Been waiting too long to do what needs to be
done! Get out of my way!"

Fearless Leader shook his head. "Think! Just stop and think! He'll
tear you apart! He's way more powerful than you! I know you want
revenge -- but you can't take him on yourself! The Gorilla and Savior
would have wanted you to stick to the plan. You can save the world and
then get revenge. Or you can be another dead body. They'd have wanted
you to wait."

"You don't know that. You don't know anything."

"Just a few more days. A few more days."

"Fine. Give you three. And after three?"
Very-Disturbed-Scary-Creature Man picked up a small shot glass and
crushed it in his hand until it was just a bunch of broken glass and
blood. "He's mine." He smiled a very disturbed angry smile.

"Fair Enough."

**** <<--BM-->> ****

The White House --

President Hexadecimal Luthor watched his big TV screen and shook his
head. What was that idiot doing, he thought as he watched Ultimate
Savior's speech. Why was he announcing to the whole entire world that
Mr. Nasty was back in action? Hex clicked the TV off.

He was starting to lose control over them. Irony Man had threatened his
life. wReamicus Maximus had been using Catalyst Lass to try and steal
from him. And he was sure the others were plotting against him too. If
only he could have them all killed. Hex sighed to himself. But he
still needed them for now. After Beige Midnight was done he could wipe
them all out. But not now.

He had so much to do. Needed to prepare himself for his state dinner
with the world leaders. Try to find some way to "convince" them to sign
his Freedom Chip Free Trade Agreement. Hah.

Hex's cell phone started to play Ringo Starr's 'You're Sixteen'. Hex
answered it.

"What? You have? You're serious! Ebay? Very well. Trace the address
of the seller and send it to me."

Hex clicked off his phone and smiled. This might not be such a bad day
after all. In fact this might be the best day ever.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

A Freedom Chip Plant for Stork International --

The door crashed open. A couple of men in old time gangster suits burst
into the Plant Manager's office.

The Plant Manager stood up from his chair and picked up the phone.
"What the -- I'm calling the..."

"Relax. Mr. Stork sent us. We've got some new system software for the
Freedom Chips." The gangster looking fellow dug out a flash drive from
his pocket and held it up. "Need to halt production of the old ones and
put this in all of the new ones. Comprende?"

"I'm sorry," said the Plant Manager shaking his head, "But I'll need to
confirm this with Mr. Stork." The Plant Manger began to punch some
buttons on his phone, but before he could finish one of the gangster
looking fellows ripped the phone cord out of the phone.

"No need for that. Got a line to Mr. Stork right on my iTie." The
gangster type fellow pointed to his tie and touched it slightly. A
picture manifested itself right on the tie. It was Toony Stork wearing
sunglasses and sipping a Pina Colada.

<<What? What do you want? I'm busy here!>>

"Sorry, boss. This guy here." The gangster type fellow gestured
towards the Plant Manager. "He don't want to put the new system
software into the Freedom Chips."

<<What? Is this true? I need that new system software in *now*! If
you can't get the job done, there are plenty of people who can do your
job *better*!>>

"Wait! I wasn't -- I just wasn't sure if these people you sent -- I
mean -- this all just a misunderstanding. A Misunderstanding! I'm
right on this! I was just going to -- we'll get the new system software
on the chips today, Mr. Stork. Promise!"

<<Good. Anything else -- or can I get back to my *important*
business?>> Toony Stork said as a pair of feminine hands began rubbing
his shoulders.

"Nah, boss. That's it. Later." The gangster type fellow clicked his
iTie and the picture disappeared.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Spoono's Greasy Spoon Cafe --

Tara Shreds (The Ripping Dancer) sat at a table sipping a cup of coffee.
On the other side of her was the hero and LNH'r Cannon Fodder
disguised as a Heavy Metal fan.

"Doing okay?" said Cannon Fodder in a concerned voice.

"As fine as can be," said Tara as she dug through her purse and pulled
out a notebook. She handed the notebook to Cannon Fodder.

Cannon Fodder gave an appreciative nod and took the notebook. "There
anyway I could convince you to come back to safety?"

Tara shook her head. "Sorry."

"Thought I'd give it a shot. Okay. Here's something you should
probably know. The Big Battle's going to happen 4-16. That will be the
day that Hex and his pals sign some F-Chip Agreement with World Leaders.
It's going to be out in public view. At the D.C. National Mall area."

"Won't there be a lot of innocent bystanders?"

"Yeah. Well, I think Kirby and Occult will do something to whisk them
to safety. I guess." Cannon Fodder shrugged his hands.

"Manga Man's going to be there?"

"Yeah. Think so."

"I see. Well, thanks for filling me in."

"Sure. No prob."

"How's -- umm Felix?"

"Felix? Oh -- you mean, FL? Well, you know. He's always super serious
and grim and stuff. Like he's always carrying the weight of the world
on his shoulders and stuff."

Tara gave a small laugh at that.

"Guess he's fine. Seems like he always is. I guess."

Tara with a sad expression on her face said, "That's good. I mean --
could you -- could you tell him...?"

"Tell him what?"

Tara shook her head. "No. Nothing. Sorry. Just give my love to -- to
the Resistance. Okay?"

Cannon Fodder nodded. "Sure. Will do."

Beginning of Part II

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Back at the secret meeting place --

"Stop Hex Luthor, Guv? That's a question. Now isn't that?" Bicycle
Repair Lad paused and poured himself a cup of tea. He then took a cup
of cream and poured a little in. Then he took a lemon slice and gently
squeezed it over his tea. Finally, he took two sugar cubes and dropped
them into the tea and then stirred the whole concoction till it was
thoroughly blended. And then he sipped the tea. "And a Jolly Good
question at that. Stop Hex Luthor. Stop Hex Luthor. Ah. How to stop
Hex Luthor? Well, only one way really. Only one way that's ever
worked. And will ever work on these dodgy snakey bleeder sort (Pardon
the language). One way. One way only. The Swift Ride of --*Bicycle
Justice*!! Dum-de-dum!!" hummed Bicycle Repair Lad.

"The -- what?" said everyone else in the room.

"Bicycles. Hex can't stand them. Afraid of them, 'e is. 'Is kind
always is. Yes. We need bicycles! Tons of bicycles! I can see it
now! Every member of the LNH will 'ave a bicycle! A flying bicycle!"
A crazed look started to pop up in Bicycle Repair Lad's eyes. "Oh yes!
Flying bicycles! Flying down from the sky! Every one a different
colour!! Hahah!! And maybe -- yes maybe -- a big bicycle!! The
Biggest Bicycle ever!! A bicycle so big that people will look at it and
say to themselves, 'No! No Bicycle can be that big!! It's impossible!!
But I'm seeing it!! It's a bicycle!! And it's big!! It's a Big
Bicycle!!' And I will ride this Big Bicycle into Battle!! Yes!!
Hahahhaha!!! Yes!! Bicycles!!!"

"And for this -- you people rejected my whole 'Knife Fight with Hex
Luthor' idea?" said Knife Fight Dude shaking his head in disgust.

"Look," said Fearless Leader. "Bicycle Repair Lad's been through a lot.
He spent nearly four months in a prison strapped to a bed and forced
to watch Hex Luthor's speeches. I'm sure with a little more rest he'll..."

"No! I'm serious! Bicycles!! We need them! All of them!! Yes!!
Bicycles!!" Bicycle Repair Lad started to laugh again and say the word
'bicycle' over and over.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

The LNHHQ --

Dr. Stomper lifted his eye from the microscope and rubbed it. It was no
use. He was making no progress.

It didn't make sense. He was Doctor Stomper. He understood everything.
Chemistry. Biology. Physics. Mathematics. Computer Engineering.
Continuity Science. Pseudo Science. Anti-Science. He understood it
all. He should understand this. He should understand how this Freedom
Chip worked. But he couldn't. It was like a labyrinth of gibberish.
The circuits shouldn't work the way they were laid out. Even if you
assumed that some circuits were in other dimensions it didn't make
sense. How did Hex Luthor create this? Maybe it was magic. No.
Occultism Kid had already looked at the Freedom Chips. They weren't magic.

Was he ever going to figure this out? He returned to the microscope.

"Stomper? Making any progress?"

Dr. Stomper turned around and saw Fearless Leader. "Not at the moment.
I need more time. You see it's -- umm --It's... uh nothing."

"Well. I'm sure you'll figure it out. You usually do. Did you want to
see me about something?"

"Oh right." Dr. Stomper got up from his chair. "I need to get in touch
with Ripping Dancer. I need to tell her that I will no longer make
potions for her because of her condition."

"Sorry. I'm no longer on speaking terms with -- Wait. What condition?
She's -- Is she pregnant?"

"Pregnant? Hmm. Not that I know of. She hasn't told you about her
condition?"

"No. She hasn't told me a lot of things. So what is it? What's wrong
with her?"

"Hmm. I'm not sure I should be discussing this with you if she doesn't
want you to know about it. Can you tell me how to contact her?"

"No. But I can get you in touch with people who can contact her. As
for potions, it won't matter. She's already found someone in the LNV
that can duplicate the potion for her."

"She's still with the Legion of Net.Villains? I thought her mission was
finished when Bicycle Repair Lad was free?"

"I thought so too. Dancer had other ideas."

Dr. Stomper shook his head with a worried expression. "This is not
good. She can't keep using the potions!"

"Why, Doc? Why? What's wrong with her? Tell me."

Dr. Stomper sighed. "I suppose you'll find out sooner or later. Very
well. She has cancer."

Fearless Leader stepped slightly back and hesitated before speaking.
"Cancer?" A beeping sound came from one of Dr. Stomper's machines. Dr.
Stomper went over and switched it off. "Cancer?" Dr. Stomper took a
flask of liquid out of the machine and poured another liquid into it.
"Why didn't she -- why didn't she...?" The liquid turned into a bright
assortment of colors. Dr. Stomper stirred it a few times and turned his
attention back to Fearless Leader. "Cancer? How -- how long?"

"It's hard to say." Dr. Stomper took off his glasses and wiped a spot
off of them with his lab coat. "She was diagnosed a few weeks ago.
With proper treatment and a little luck, she could last a long time."

"And if not?"

"Well, if she doesn't get any treatment and keeps using those potions.
Maybe two months at the most. It's hard to say."

"Why didn't she -- why didn't she...?" Fearless Leader rolled up his
hand into a fist and punched the wall. A large hole formed in the wall.
"Damn it! Damn it!!"

"Do you know why she's still with the LNV, Fearless Leader?"

"No. I mean -- yes. She told me. Love. She said she was in love. In
love with someone. Someone. I don't know. She fell madly in love with
someone. Just like that. A few weeks and she falls in love. Goddammit."

"Hmm," said Dr. Stomper as he cogitated about this. "That does seem
rather quick. Falling in love that rapidly. Hmm. Would Romanic
Innuendo be with the LNV by chance"?

Fearless Leader's eyes blinked. "Romantic Innuendo? Of course. Why
didn't I think -- Why didn't I -- that has to be it! That has to be --
they've got her brainwashed! They've got her -- I've got to -- I've got
to..." Fearless Leader looked back at Dr. Stomper. "Got to go, Doc.
Got to go and..." Fearless Leader rushed out of Dr. Stomper's office.

"Wait!" Dr. Stomper said trying to stop Fearless Leader before he left.
But he was too late. He hoped Fearless Leader wouldn't do anything
foolish. He could be wrong about Ripping Dancer. Maybe she was in
love. A real love.

He looked at the flask. The colors were all gone. It was one color
now. Beige. Dr. Stomper looked at the flask and then at the hole in
the wall. Oh well. He couldn't do anything about it. He needed to
work on stuff that he could fix. Like this Freedom Chip.

Sooner or later he'd figure it out.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

LNV Headquarters --

Vector Sublime looked at the sleeping form of Dr. Virus Love.
Completely asleep. Something she never had to do. She looked over the
room she was in. She could hear something. Something that no one else
could hear.

Voices. Voices in a frequency of sound only she could hear.

<<Have you delivered the Virus Maker, little one?>>

<<Yes,>> thought Vector Sublime to the voice in her head. <<No one
suspects. Mynabird is too obsessed with his vendetta to think about the
consequences. And everyone else is too greedy for power. They don't
know. They don't understand.>>

<<Good. You will be well rewarded when we wake.>>

<<No. I don't want a reward. Just revenge. That's all.>>

<<Don't worry little one. We will satisfy you.>>

The voices went away.

Vector Sublime looked at the sleeping form of Dr. Virus Love. She
wondered what being asleep would be like.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

An Apartment Complex in East Net.ropolis --

The door burst open and a number of bullet-vested agents with guns came
through it.

Dizzy Collar swiveled his chair towards the pointed guns and dropped the
bag of wReamos he had been chowing down. "Whoah! This about all that
internet music on my drive? Cuz I can explain..."

"No," said a man who looked exactly like President Hexadecimal Luthor as
he passed through the wall of armed men. "This is about your artifact.
Where is it?"

"Damn! You're a dead ringer for the President!"

"See this man here? He'll shoot you in the kneecap on my order. Show
me the artifact. I don't have patience. Show it to me."

"Oh. You must be talking about the fragment of the Cosmic Plot Device I
have. Interested in buying it?"

Hex Luthor shook his head. "I am not here to buy stolen property." He
turned to one of the men with guns pointed at Dizzy's kneecap. "Shoot him."

"Whoah! Whoah! Wait!" said Dizzy quickly getting out of his chair.
"I'm getting it! I'm getting it!" Dizzy rushed over to his closet and
took a shoebox off the top shelf. "Here it is! Honest!" Dizzy handed
the box to Hex Luthor.

Hex Luthor opened the box up. There it was. Immersed in crumpled
newspaper. Was this it? It looked so ordinary. Hex's hand trembled
slightly as he picked it up. He put the shard in his pocket. "Arrest
this man."

"What? Hey! I did what you said. What am I under arrest for? What?"
One of the bullet-vested men handcuffed Dizzy.

"Selling stolen property. Now shut up."

"Wait! What about my rights? I got rights, don't I? I want a lawyer!"

"Rights?" Hex Luthor laughed. "Okay. Here are your rights. You have
the right to shut up. And if you don't -- if you keep blabbering away
-- then these men right here are going to do a whole lot worse than
simply put you in jail. A whole lot worse. You understand?"

Dizzy nodded his head.

Hex Luthor, Dizzy, and the rest of the gunmen quickly walked out of the
apartment room.

A few minutes later in the empty apartment, a dimensional crack opened up.

"Dude! That was wicked!" said Dizzy Collar coming from the crack.
"Hope my webcam got all that!"

Occultism Kid followed him and held his comm.thingee wristwatch up to
his mouth. "Decoy has been taken. Phase II: Complete."

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Back in the Middle East...

The fight was short as these things went, and only finished with the
bloody murder of one of the combatants. It also ran nothing like what
the Al-Qaeda Amerika net.ahumans were expecting. Unlike their attacks
on ground troops of normal humans, their hit-and-run tactics gave them
no significant advantage against the Bicycle Liberation Front's ability
to predict and neutralise their abilities. Had they been paying proper
attention to the BLF's progress over the previous week they would have
realised this and planned accordingly, but it seemed that Retcon Lad's
injunction that the BLF's opponents would overlook this basic tactic
matter was holding firm despite the known presence of another reality
manipulator on the other side.

No sooner had Fourth Wall Lass said her words of warning than Twitter
was off and running. Once she was alerted to the danger her own
telepathy allowed her to home in on her enemies' location, and her
hyperactive impulsiveness made it inevitable that she'd run in straight
away. She actually managed to take out two of AQA before the one called
Sahar, the 'Evil Eye', jinxed her with a badly sprained ligament and
brought her down screaming in agony.

Meanwhile there was a briefest moment's gap while the Net.Elementalist
swapped from the powers of flame to lag. In this moment attacks could
have gotten through, but Fourth Wall Lass opened up small holes in the
threshold of the fourth wall to intercept and whisk away the energy
blasts of the two AQA who had ranged attack powers, while Retcon Lad
used his abilities to cause jamming failure in the weapons of those who
did not. However, Anal-Retentive Archive Kid's warning about the
Iron-Fisted Imam, the Al-Qaeda reality manipulator, was weighing on
Retcon Lad's mind. If he were able to undo the net.hero's retcons then
a lot of the Bicycle Liberation Front's advantage would vanish like
morning mist.

As the Net.Elementalist lagged the super terrorists and their incoming
attacks - and mercifully used the stasis to nullify the pain of Twitter
until medical help could be brought to her - Retcon Lad called to the
others, "We *don't* want a fight scene anywhere that might set off that
chlorine trifluoride. FaWL, take us all to the other side of the fourth
wall. Netty, drop the lag so she can grab the bad guys, then be ready
to lay it back on as soon as we're all on the other side."

The Net.Elementalist nodded. "Dropping lag in three, two, one... now,"
he said. Fourth Wall Lass opened up her portals, and everyone that she
could sense (including those still up on the mountainside) toppled
across the threshold. Then the lag slammed back into effect. The
shapeshifter known as Menagerie - one of the few AQA operatives that
Retcon Lad was able to recognise straight off - was fast enough to react
in the interim, beginning a transformation into something horrible while
in mid leap at the net.heroes. Then the Net.Elementalist's lag caught
him again, and Menagerie was frozen just like most of the others.

Yes, most. As Retcon Lad had feared, the Iron-Fisted Imam had somehow
made himself resistant to the Bicycle Liberation Front's super powers.
No surprise there; opposing reality manipulators soon learnt that
undermining an enemy's impositions with conditional exceptions was just
as potent a weapon as a direct physical assault. With each passing
instant the grip of the lag field on the IFI grew weaker as he brought
more of his power of faith to bear against it. "I believe!" the Imam
thundered. "Your devil-spawned powers will not hold me."

The Net.Elementalist tried to focus more lag against the Iron-Fisted
one, and Retcon Lad tried to reinforce it. But even before the
Net.Elementalist called out the warning, "It's not going to hold him!"
Retcon Lad knew the IFI would break free, and the net.hero began to
steel himself for another head-to-head reality war. He was sanguine
about this; he'd come a long way since his first battle against Retcon
RACC.coon when he'd had his butt handed to him. However Lenny launched
himself at the Iron-Fisted Imam before Retcon Lad could make his move.

The Iron-Fisted Imam was both angry and disdainful. "I believe. Burn
in the fires of Hell," he ordered the squirrel-shaped yabon. He had
enough time to be surprised when the squirrel blocked his attack, and
then Lenny was upon him. He scrabbled across the Imam's face, then
over his shoulders and onto his back, leaving scratches in his wake.
These were distractions, nothing more. Bound as he was to this material
form, Lenny's physical attacks were absurdly weak compared to his
spiritual abilities, and he needed physical contact to begin true
spiritual combat.

Lenny - or Lundji, to use the non-anglicised version of his name - was a
Dreamtime equivalent of an Abrahamic angel, and knew true spiritual
power when he encountered it. The Imam was not some random net.ahuman
whose powers derived from science or pseudo-science. Nor was he a mage
using personal power hidden behind the pretence of the name of his god.
The Imam was a true priest wielding real miracles.

And in a universe of four-colour superheroics, where every pantheon of
world mythology and more beside were real and rubbed shoulders with one
another, that made the Iron-Fisted Imam just another powerful but
generic cleric.

The Iron-Fisted Imam quickly strengthened his spiritual defences against
Lenny's unexpectedly proficient attacks on his soul. Unfortunately for
the man Lenny's tens of millennia of existence in the Dreamtime included
a lot of experience in spiritual combat. The Imam's counter attacks
were the psychic equivalent of physical assaults from lightning blasts,
weapons fire, explosions and swords and death rays, but these were too
clumsy and lacking in subtly to seriously threaten the yabon's soul.

Then, amidst the frenetic fighting, the Iron-Fisted Imam realised what
Lenny was. He almost laughed out loud. So *that* was what the evil
creature had tried to keep the Imam from discovering with this all-out
assault. The squirrel was in fact a spirit creature who had not
submitted to Allah. In other words, a devil.

No more skirmishing then. A full-force banishment by the power of the
Name. "In the name of God the All-Powerful, begone from this place
servant of evil!"

Nothing happened.

Except that Lenny had the opening he had been waiting for.

The yabon had seen something like this once before. More than twelve
hundred years ago, as mortals measured time, the Archangel Uriel had
declared the non-Abrahamic pantheons to be impure and had launched an
assault to destroy them all. A host of angels had entered Alcheringa
with the intention of razing it. Uriel had made the same
if-you-aren't-with-us-you're-against-us mistake that monotheists were so
susceptible to, and believed that all spirits not of Yahweh were
inferior demonlings. Uriel had still believed that right up until the
moment that he had tried to smite the powerful guardian spirit Mulunga
with his flaming sword, only to see the sword snap in two. Mulunga had
used the instant's worth of surprise to catch Uriel off-guard and bite
the archangel in half and swallow the pieces in one gulp. Thereafter
the only Abrahamic angels who had survived were those who had retreated.
Lundji himself had been involved in the battle that day, and had
inflected final soul-death on one of his opponents.

Lenny had been waiting for the same moment of shock and hesitation in
the Imam. It was not a wavering of faith, but rather a half second's
worth of WTF reaction as he tried to think of what to do next. It was
an instant when the Iron-Fisted one's defences were weakest, and Lenny
used it. With ruthless efficiency the yabon began ripping into the
human's spiritual being in the manner most likely to cause permanent
damage, violating the Imam's immortal self and critically maiming his
soul. The Iron-Fisted Imam screamed and tried to resist. It was too
late. Lenny was already past his defences and wreaking havoc.

The Iron-Fisted Imam quickly collapsed insensate. As far as the Bicycle
Liberation Front could see there were only a few scratches on him, but
they were only seeing physical damage. "So you've knocked him
unconscious?" asked the Net.Elementalist, who was ready to try and lag
the Imam again as soon as Lenny moved away.

Lenny rolled his eyes. It was only out of courtesy that he kept to
their superheroic code of 'no killing unless necessary'. "His body is
not dead, if that's what you mean," the yabon began. But before he
could continue with his brief explanation that he had maimed the man's
soul, there was an energy blast from off-panel that vaporised the
Iron-Fisted Imam's head, sending Lenny flying away from the force of it
and splattering gore all over the place.

"Then if he is not dead, he should be dithpatched with all due speed,"
announced ApocaLISP, lord of the programming languages.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Back at the White House --

"Hold all calls. No one is to come into the Oval Office. No one! I am
not to be interrupted for the next 15 minutes. I don't care what
happens. If nuclear war breaks out, I don't want to know about it.
Nothing! Do you understand me?! Do you!? That will be all." Hex
Luthor hung up the phone and then disconnected it. And then he went
over and locked all of the doors to the Oval Office. And finally he
walked over to the Abraham Lincoln painting and dumped it on the ground.
After retrieving the Cosmic Plot Device fragments he had in his safe,
he walked over to his desk and placed the very cracked somewhat fixed
piece on his desk. And then he took out the piece he had in his pocket
and held it up.

His heart started to beat faster as he looked at the piece. It was so
unremarkable. Just a brownish piece of pottery. He wouldn't be
surprised if it didn't work. It looked like a fake. But he had to try
it out.

The last piece. The final piece in the puzzle. He placed it carefully
right in the spot it was supposed to be. He had glued the rest of the
parts, but he had a feeling that he wouldn't have to glue this one. And
he was right. Something was happening. A bright light started to fill
in the cracks. It was molding together. This was it. This was the
real deal. It was whole.

He picked it up and held it in his hand. On some level it was like a
jewel. A piece of crystal. It was also a metal like gold. It was like
everything. He could see everything in it. It was becoming like a
liquid. Fluid. He could shape it into anything. He stopped looking at
the device and began to look at the world around him. It had changed.
Things that he had never seen before became completely obvious. He
could see colors that only gods could see. He could hear sounds only
gods could hear. He could smell scents only Gods could smell.

He started to float in the air. It was amazing. He could do anything.
Anything he could imagine. He was beyond everything. He looked at a
fruit basket on his desk and willed one of the apples to come into his
hand, which it did. He looked at the apple and then dumped it on the
ground. Then he gazed at the apple and said, "Let there be life." And
the apple sank into the carpet and a small tree started to grow from it.
In a few seconds, it became a nice sized tree filled with apples. The
perfect apple tree.

Hex plucked one the apples from the tree. Perfect. The Perfect --
Wait. What was this? There was a hole in the apple. He looked more
closely at the hole. Something was coming out of it. Oh god!

Hex dropped the apple on the ground with a disgusted look. It was some
kind of worm. A two-headed worm that was incredibly pale. The heads of
the worm looked slightly human and they were staring at him. What the
hell was it?

And as if to answer his question the worm started to speak. xXx
Greetings, President Hexadecimal E. Luthor III. I am an emissary from
the Lords of Bryttle. They have sent me to ask you if you will have an
audience with them when they awaken. They are prepared to offer you a
very generous gift if you should choose. xXx

"A gift? I'll bet," laughed Hex Luthor. "Tell your masters that the
Looniverse has room for only one God." Hex Luthor then gazed at the
apple using the Cosmic Plot Device and set the apple aflame.

The worm looked slightly amused by the fire. xXx Very well. You
should know, however, that my Masters' gift was that you would be
allowed to live after Beige Midnight. But I will tell them that you
have chosen death instead. Good day, sir. xXx The worm vanished
leaving just a blackened smoldering apple. Hex Luthor scowled. He
focused the power of the Cosmic Plot Device on the tree and apple
causing both to vanish completely.

They were afraid, thought Hex to himself. They had to be. That's why
they wanted to talk to him. That had to be the reason. But what if
they weren't? What if they were so powerful that the Cosmic Plot Device
was meaningless to them? No. He wasn't going to think about it.

Don't think about it. Just be happy. You're so close now.

He shifted the shape of the Cosmic Plot Device till it resembled a gold
pocket watch with a gold chain. And then he stuck it in his pocket.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Juliet Valentino looked at the notebook in her hands. The paper in it
was so brittle. Even barely touching her pencil to the paper caused it
to flake away.

She looked over at her patient lying on her couch. Her patient was an
obese man by the name of Romeo Inman. He was dressed in a type of Don
Juan costume. He had delusions about being a supervillain.

"You need to let it all out, Romeo. I need to know everything. All
your secrets. How your powers work. I need to know why you do the
things you do Romeo if I'm going to help you. We need to get to the
root of these problems. These problems of yours. Don't be afraid."

"No, Juliet. You don't want to help me. You just want these powers for
yourself. You want to destroy me. And you already have. This is the
past you're looking at. I am already destroyed."

"What -- what do you...?" Juliet looked at her notebook. What was
Romeo talking about? It was no use. She couldn't use this notebook.
It was flaking away into nothing. Did she have another notebook? "I'm
not sure what you're talking about, Romeo? Why do you believe I'm
destroying you?"

"That already happened Juliet. It was love that destroyed me. My love
for you. And now you are Romantic Innuendo. But you will be destroyed
someday too."

"What? Who? Who is going to destroy me?"

"Love. It destroys us all. The curse of being a Romantic. It will
destroy you Juliet. Someday, when you least expect it. Now you need to
wake up."

"Wake? What do you...?"

"You need to wake up. You're in danger. Deep danger. Wake up. Wake
up. Wake..."

"Wake up -- Innuendo."

Romantic Innuendo opened her eyes. The lights of her room were on. And
she could feel a cold hard metal touching her head. A familiar feeling.
A gun with a silencer attached to it.

"Look at me."

Romantic Innuendo's heart started to beat faster. How concerned should
she be about this? Did Homage send someone? Was this it? The end?
She turned her head around to see who it was -- and once she saw whom --
a contemptuous smirk made its way across her face. And she started
thinking of ways to control the situation.

"Ooh -- baby, baby." She licked her lips. "How'd you ever guess,
Fearless Leader? My biggest turn on? A psychopathic hero breaking into
my room? With me -- all alone in my bed -- wearing only a tiny pink
see-through nighty for protection?" Romantic Innuendo pulled the sheets
covering her down. "Of course I always imagined him as looking like
Antonio Banderas. Oh well. You'll do."

"This isn't a joke."

"Oh. I hope not. I do so hate a tease. So. What can I do for you --
Fearless Leader?" Romantic Innuendo batted her eyelashes. "Need a
pretty girl to fall in love with you?"

"You know why I'm here. Ripping Dancer. Stop it. What you're doing --
stop it. Stop messing with her mind."

"Ripping Dancer?" Romantic Innuendo's fingernail traced her lips as she
pretended to think about the name. "Oh, right. That young pretty
thing? Right. Have I done something to her?"

"You know what you did. You made her fall in love with someone."

"Oh? That? That's what this is about? Her falling in love with Thread
Bear?"

"Thread Bear? That's -- that's who you... Thread Bear!"

"I think they make an adorable couple. I can see the wedding bells
already." Romantic Innuendo let out a small giggle.

"You think I won't use this on you?" Fearless Leader pointed the gun at
Romantic Innuendo's face. "Do you!?"

"Well, to be honest -- no." Romantic Innuendo looked straight into
Fearless Leader's eyes. "Your type of super-dooper-boy-scout heroes
can't really even hit a lady -- much less blow their brains out. So you
might as well put down the..."

"No. You're wrong. You're very wrong. Haven't you been paying
attention? Haven't you? Haven't you noticed that the world's been
changing? That everything's changing? Look outside! Look at the sky!
Night's not black! Day's not blue! It's beige! Beige! 24 hours a
day. Beige. The world's changing, Romantic Innuendo. And I'm
changing. And you're changing. And everyone's changing. And it's not
the good kind of change." Fearless Leader shook his head. "No. It's
the bad kind."

Fearless Leader stepped back and looked at the gun in his hand. "You
know -- I've been having dreams. So many dreams. Every time I go to
sleep they come. They tell me what I should do -- and what I shouldn't
do. And they all end in death. That's how they end. They all end with
me failing. That's how they end. And for the past few days I've been
hearing -- heh. Voices. Voices. And I'm wondering if I'm -- I'm going
crazy. I must be going crazy. Only crazy people hear voices. But I
can hear them. They're telling me -- they're telling me to kill. Kill
all the evil people. That's the answer. The answer to defeating the
Bryttle Brothers. Kill enough evil people and they'll disappear. And
I'm trying -- I'm trying to resist the voices -- because -- because I
think the voices are lying to me. I think the voices are trying to
destroy me. But -- I don't know. I don't know the answer. I don't
know how to stop the decay. Do you? Do you know the answer?"

Romantic Innuendo's heart started to race. She shook her head.

"No. I guess you don't. And you don't know what I'm capable of. Do you?"

"You're not capable of murder, Fearless Leader."

"Maybe. I hope you're right. But -- no. I don't know anymore."

"Look. Blowing my head away isn't going to solve anything. You know
that. Sit down. Put your gun down. Let's discuss this like..."

"What? What is there to discuss? You're going to stop using your
powers on Ripping Dancer. There's nothing else to discuss."

"It's -- it's not that simple. Stopping this love -- of hers could be
-- could be -- well, bad. Are you aware that she has cancer?"

"Of course I'm aware! That's why she needs to come back to us! So she
can get help! Get treatment!"

"Oh, she's getting treatment, Fearless Leader. The best treatment
Mynabird's money can buy. Lagneto is lagging her cancer."

"Lagneto?"

"Yes. Lagneto. She'll die of old age before her several tumors can
kill her. But I guess you could take her back. I'm sure Dr. Stomper
could whisk up a cure for cancer for her. Couldn't he? Doesn't he do
that? Cures for cancer? Oh wait. No. I forgot. He doesn't do that
-- does he? The LNH doesn't do cures for cancer. They just stand by
while all of the cancer patients in the world beg for help -- and watch
them as they die. That's what they do. Isn't it? That's the LNH way
of dealing with cancer."

Fearless Leader shook his head. His eyes were filled with anger. "No.
That's -- that's not..."

"Oh. That's completely fair. And you know it. You know Dr. Stomper
and Organic Lass aren't going to save Ripping Dancer. No. At best
they'd just lengthen her death sentence."

"No. You're not... you're not going to..."

"Save her? That's what we've been doing. Saving her. Yes, Fearless
Leader. It's for the best you know. She has a place here. She can use
her potions without worry. She's got someone she's in love with. Here
she has hope. Really, it's for the best. What could you offer her? A
couple of months of hugs?"

Fearless Leader was silent.

"I can see the emptiness in you, Fearless Leader. I can taste it. I
could fix that. Any woman you want. Any. Just name her. I'll make
her love you. Anyone. And I'll make you love her. And you won't care
about the dreams. Or the voices. Or the beige skies. You'll just care
about her -- and she you -- and nothing else will matter. Anyone."

Fearless Leader shook his head. "No. Wouldn't be right. Wouldn't be
real."

Romantic Innuendo laughed. "Love is never right. And real? It always
feels real."

Fearless Leader pointed his gun back at Romantic Innuendo. "She will
not be hurt. No. Never hurt. If she is hurt -- If she is -- I will
kill that person. And I will kill you. And I will kill. And I will
kill. And I will kill. Understand?"

Romantic Innuendo nodded her head.

"This is not over." Fearless Leader then touched a button on his belt
and teleported away.

"Oh, it never is." Romantic Innuendo felt a chill. Romantic Innuendo
pulled her sheets over her. And clutched at her pillow tightly.

The world felt cold.

The Beginning of Part III

**** <<--BM-->> ****

The White House --

Hex Luthor took a sip from a glass of red wine. "So. How's the grub?"

French President Nicolas Sarkozy put the Texas style spare rib he had in
his hand down and slightly licked his fingers. "Good. However, a bit
messy for a state dinner. No?"

Hex nodded his head. "Yes. Messy. But very rich in symbolism."

"Enough!" said Russian President Vladimir Putin. "Let's get to the real
reason we're all here! The Freedom Chip Agreement!"

"No!" boomed Alt.verian Supreme High Master-Lord Dr. Boom. "Not till
Boom gets his towelettes! Moist towelettes!! Boom demands moist
towelettes!! The moist towelettes shall be *MINE*!!!!" Dr. Boom
slammed his barbeque sauce drenched metal fist on the table.

"Quit your incessant whining, Boom. If you keep it up, I will be forced
to invade your pathetic little country. Don't test me Boom." Vladimir
Putin gave a dark gaze to Dr. Boom.

"Invade?! Invade?!! No one invades Alt.veria!! No One!! Except,
BOOM!! Only Boom can invade Alt.veria!! Only BOOM!!!!" Dr. Boom stood
up and pointed his barbeque sauce dripping BOOMING finger at Putin.
"Prepare to be BOOMED, Putin!!"

"Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Please!!" shouted Hex as he tried to get back
control of the dinner table. "You're both right! Vlad's right about
how we have very important subjects to discuss and Boom's right about
how we need more moist towelettes! And..." Hex watched as a bunch of
servers surrounded Dr. Boom with trays full of moist towelettes.
"They're finally here! Well, looks like that crisis is over."

"Pfah!" boomed Dr. Boom as he grabbed an iron fist full of moist towelettes.

"Well. Now that that's all settled, I suppose we should get to why I've
brought all of you important World Leaders together -- here. The
Freedom Chip Free Trade Agreement. Simply put -- this is about the
safety and future of the world. Gentlemen and..." Hex gave a wink to
German Chancellor Angela Merkel, "Ladies. The future of the world is in
grave danger. You've seen the news footage of the Bryttle Brothers.
You remember 1992. Beige Noon. We can't let that happen again. No.
We need to put aside our differences and band together to defeat these
menaces. We need to sign the FCFTA. And we need to sign it now."

"But as I understand the agreement," said British Prime Minister Gordon
Brown, "It makes regulation of the Chip impossible. Anyone can buy one.
Anyone can sell one. And we don't even know if they're safe to use.
The European Union..."

"Nonsense," said Hex waving his hand. "It's been thoroughly tested by
my scientists. It's perfectly safe. Why -- I even have one in my
head." And to demonstrate this Hex got out of his chair and floated up
from the ground till he reached the ceiling of the State Dining Room.
And then he floated back to his chair.

"Impressive," said the Chinese President Hu Jintao. "But this 'Freedom
Chip' would give everyone in the world a 'superpower'. That is
unacceptable! It would be chaos! There must be control!"

"Believe me, Hu, I understand that concern," nodded Hex. "That's why
there are special codes embedded into the chips that will give the state
control over the individual should that individual get out of line."

"Wait," said Angela Merkel. "What does that mean? The government can
control the individual? What do you mean by that?"

"Look," said Hex. "All I'm saying is that it will be up to the
governments how they use and control people with chips. We're getting a
little sidetracked here. What we should be talking about is the Bryttle
Brothers threat. That's what we should be talking about. And if we're
going to defeat them then we're going to need a whole lot of heroes. A
whole lot of people with Freedom Chips in their heads. We need to..."

Before he could finish the sound of gunfire burst through the room. A
big vehicle with a big magnet attached to it crashed into the room. A
number of masked men in paramilitary outfits jumped off the vehicle and
pointed their guns at the World Leaders. The masked man who was driving
the vehicle pushed a button causing the 'Big Magnet' to activate.
Secret Service guns and other metal objects began to fly towards the
magnet. Dr. Boom's metal suit, to his own horror, couldn't resist the
magnet. In a few seconds Dr. Boom's whole body was pinned to the
magnet. "No!" boomed Dr. Boom. "My one weakness!! Big Magnets!!"

The leader of the band of terrorists looked straight at Hex Luthor.
"Okay. If you know what's good for you, you'd better do as we say. If
you do -- no one will get hurt. If you don't -- well, guess you're
going to have to die. Our demands are simple. We want Bicycle Repair
Lad and all the rest of your 'War on Terror' prisoners to go free. And
if you don't free them within 16 hours, we will start executing people.
We are the Bicycle Liberation Front. Oh, yeah -- In case you were
wondering -- our guns are magnet resistant."

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Back in the Middle East...

"ApocaLISP!" exclaimed Retcon Lad. He adopted a dramatic stance for the
imminent confrontation. "What are you doing here?"

The powerful net.villain crossed his arms and said, "I have come to
claim my son," which needless to say threw a curveball into the whole
situation. He paused for a beat to watch in satisfaction while everyone
who was still conscious, not lagged and not dead stared at him in
surprise. Then he uncrossed his arms and with a single gesture used his
own net.ahuman abilities to cancel the powers and effects of the powers
of everyone else present. Twitter suddenly gasped in pain as the
Net.Elementalist's lag was turned off. Similarly the forces of the
Al-Qaeda Amerika team were freed from the lag and returned to awareness,
but this did them little good since ApocaLISP was now using his own
power to hold them all immobile, Al-Qaeda Amerika and Bicycle Liberation
Front alike.

"The one called Sahar is mine," ApocaLISP said. There were snarls of
derision from one side and protests that the AQA would be going to trial
for terrorist acts from the other. ApocaLISP ignored both groups and
focused his attention on Sahar, who was the only one who wasn't making
noises of dissent. He held out his hand and said, "Come to me, my son.
It is your desthtiny."

Sahar stared at ApocaLISP. This couldn't be right. He felt... strange.
He knew that he belonged with the imposing ApocaLISP, but he could not
say *how* he knew. It made no sense! Sahar's place was with the forces
of jihad. But somehow he knew in his heart and soul that ApocaLISP
represented something so much more important than that.

The Bicycle Liberation Front and Al-Qaeda Amerika members watched as
Sahar transformed. His skin turned ash grey and his face developed
distinctive markings very much like those of ApocaLISP himself. More
dramatic was the way he grew in size by a good half metre, ripping out
of his clothes as he grew spiked chitinous body armour.

Sahar stepped forward to stand by ApocaLISP's side. The lord of
programming languages flicked his disdainful gaze to the remaining
net.ahumans. "He will take his plathe as one of my Horsemen," ApocaLISP
announced.

"Wait!" said Anal-Retentive Archive Kid. "What about Dekay and Diskolor?"

"What about them?" ApocaLISP asked. "They want to desthroy the world.
I doubt if they will suctheed. But even if they do, what of it? The
strong will sthurvive. And from among the ashes the sthurvivors will
arise and one day throw down the Bryttle Brothers and enact bloody
vengeanth upon them."

"The Bryttle Brothers want to erase the entire Looniverse," warned ARAK.
"There won't *be* any ashes for survivors to survive in. We have to
stop them, and we'll need all the help we can get."

ApocaLISP looked amused. "Life exisths where life can," he observed.
"In those places where life cannot, it sthimply takes longer." And then
he and Sahar teleported away. The Net.Elementalist had been ready for
this, and immediately slammed his lag onto the remaining AQA members.

"Is he always like that?" Twitter snarked through her pain.

Fourth Wall Lass raised an eyebrow. "Arrogant, condescending, turns up
to taunt everyone that their long term plans are all flawed attempts at
utopianism that must inevitably fall before blind survival of the
fittest, and a general pain in the butt? Yeah, pretty much."

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Back in the LNHHQ --

"I just heard on the news about it," said Fearless Leader rushing into
the LNHQ lobby. "What are we doing about it?" he said looking straight
at Irony Man.

"You look like hell, Landers. When was the last time you had some
sleep?" said Irony Man glancing back while he handed some papers to Fred
the Receptionist.

"I don't know. Doesn't matter. I need to know the situation, Toony."

"A team already has been sent to deal with it. That's the situation.
Go get some sleep."

"Who's on it?"

Irony Man shrugged his metal suited shoulders. "I don't know. A bunch
of new Freedom Chippers. And the Ultimate Ninja. He picked out the
team himself."

"Wait. You're telling me that the Ultimate Ninja picked a bunch of
'inexperienced heroes' to deal with this? These are Leaders of the
World we're talking about! This is far too important to -- Christ!
I've got to get a team ready to..."

"No." Irony Man shook his head. "You're not in any shape to lead a..."

"Not in Shape?! Out of all the people in the LNH, I'm the one that's
best prepared to deal with this! I've dealt with more that I can
remember -- hostage situations! Get out of my way."

"No. This is an order. I'll send a team of heroes to stop you and your
team -- by any means necessary. Get some sleep. The Ultimate Ninja can
handle this."

"The Ultimate Ninja? Maybe several months ago. I don't know about this
one. The hell with this." Fearless Leader walked away from Irony Man.

What was he doing? Where was he going?

Christ, he was tired. This whole thing was strange. This wasn't the
real Ultimate Ninja. This Ultimate Ninja never went on missions. Was
this a set up of some sort?

Was he just going to stand by and do nothing? It looked like it.

He could hear something in the back of his mind. The Voices. Kill
Irony Man, they said. Fearless Leader laughed. It was completely
absurd. Kill Irony Man. Save the World. Kill Irony Man.

Of course he wasn't going to do that. Kill someone because a voice in
his head said to. He couldn't do that. Of course there was always the
possibility that the voice was right. That killing Irony Man was the
answer. And that the world would die because he couldn't do that.

He was going crazy. When was the last time he slept? Irony Man was
right. He needed to sleep.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

The White House --

Hex glanced at the man in the surgeon scrubs who came out of a closed
door. "Last one?"

The surgeon nodded his head. "We've got them installed. All of them.
They should be fine in an hour or so."

"Good. Well, guess I better call in the rescue team." Hex gave a wink
to the surgeon and a small chuckle came out of his mouth.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

LNVHQ --

"What do you want?" The top of Mynabird's black helmet quickly closed
up and he turned his chair around.

"Sorry. Not interrupting -- am I?" said Ripping Dancer who looked very
uncomfortable.

"No. Just thinking about..." Mynabird paused as if he was about to say
something else, but decided against it. "What do you want?"

"It's about Easily-Discovered Man Lite..."

A red light started to flash on Mynabird's helmet. "Go on."

"He's going to make his move. On April 16th. Washington DC. The Mall
area. A big event is planned. He along with President Hex Luthor and
several World Leaders are planning on signing something called The
Freedom Chip Free Trade Agreement. We need to stop this from happening
because if it does -- then Easily-Discovered Man Lite will be unstoppable."

"Really now." Mynabird folded his fingers as if to meditate this new
bit of information. "If I remember correctly -- weren't you the one who
told me that it was necessary for me to get Bicycle Repair Lad because
he was the only one who knew how to stop Easily-Discovered Man Lite?"

"Well," Ripping Dancer dug her fingers into the pockets of her shorts,
"I kind of lied about that. To tell you the truth, Bicycle Repair Lad
knows nothing. I needed the LNV to help me get him out of prison. The
complete and honest truth is that," Ripping Dancer took a deep breath.
"I'm the only one who knows how to defeat Easily-Discovered Man Lite."

"I see. So how do I defeat him -- Easily-Discovered Man Lite? Do tell."

"It's Hex Luthor. You need to destroy Hex Luthor."

"I need to assassinate the President of the Loonited States?"

"Yes. He's Easily-Discovered Man Lite's power source. He's not really
a man. He's just this cosmic object that looks like a man."

"A cosmic object? A cosmic object?" Mynabird shook his head. "Really,
Ripping Dancer. How stupid do I look?" Myabird's right hand started to
sparkle with a very deadly energy crackle.

"Wait!" said Ripping Dancer as she slightly back away. "This is the
truth! Why would I lie about this? What would I have to gain? Why
would I make up such an absurd sounding lie? If it's a lie, you'll find
out and you'll kill me. But it's not a lie! But if you don't believe
me then Easily-Discovered Man Lite wins! Is that what you want? For
him to win?! Then ignore me, but don't blame me when he enslaves the
world -- enslaves us all."

"Very well. I'll give you one more chance Ripping Dancer. But that's
it. And if this turns out to be another lie -- then you will die. And
it will not be a gentle death."

Ripping Dancer nodded. "I know."

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Back in the Middle East...

"If we, shad, have offended.
String us up, for sushi blended,
For you have but stumbled here
While night-fishing off the pier.
Though my quacking idle seem,
Though these shoals with horrors teem,
Swimmers, you'll not drown tonight:
We shall fish you from your plight..."

There was a knock at the door. The LNH flight.thingie was built with
warp spaces so that it was big enough on the inside that everyone had
their own small but private cabin. Anal-Retentive Archive Kid looked up
from the trade paperback he'd been reading. "Come in," he said. The
door opened to reveal Twitter. She was on crutches, with her legs
bandaged after the damage done to her ligaments, but the fact that she
was up at all was testament to her high speed metabolism.

"Hi. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, just rereading some old Suicide Squid stories," he answered. He
put aside the TPB and said, "What can I do for you?"

"I, uh. I wanted to ask if you'd like to make out."

ARAK stared at her in surprise. "You do know..."

"Yes yes," said Twitter. "You're HIV pos. But the thing is I can tell
that the Net.Elementalist won't cheat on his wife, and Retcon Lad won't
cheat on his girlfriend, and Lenny's a squirrel..."

"Lenny's just *shaped* like a squirrel," he corrected.

Twitter waved this away. "...and your problem at least can be overcome
with a condom and a promise not to do any tongue kissing."

He gave this a bemused second's thought before saying, "Yeah. I suppose
that's about right. But look, what brought this on? I mean..."

"Because I'm scared," she exclaimed. "There's a good chance I'm going
to die in the next few weeks, and I want to do all the things that
normal people before I go. And even if I get through this, well, I'm a
late starter, okay? I want to get on with my life rather than being
packed away in some special school."

"Oh. Okay," said ARAK simply.

"Okay?" Twitter repeated in surprise. She'd been more than half
expecting to be knocked back. Anal-Retentive Archive Kid had an aura of
suppressed anger about him on this subject. He'd withdrawn from the
dating game some time ago, mainly because potential dates avoided him
like the plague, but also because he considered it more trouble than it
was worth to risk some litigious piece of fluff suing for damages from
shock and trauma after 'discovering' that he had HIV.

He shrugged. "I'm a guy. Guys think with their dorks. I'm not going
to say no to sleeping with a beautiful woman."

She blushed. No one had ever called her beautiful before.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

The LNHHQ --

"How's work going, Kid Kirby?" said Cheesecake Eater Lad as he spotted
the Kirbian on his way to the cafeteria.

"The Infinite Flying Bicycle Making Machine has already done the
required work! Still, my fellow legionnaire: the Man of Contraptions...
and I, have yet to finish Bicycle Repair Lad's Really Big Bicycle of All
Bicycles... There have been complications! But we shall finish before
the Great Cataclysmic Battle takes place! You have my word on that!
And you -- my friend the Cheesecake Wielder -- how goes progress in
locating our Ninja of all Ninjas?!"

"Not so good. But I guess I have till the 16th to find him."

"Yes! We still have time -- on our side! Very well... I must go back
to work!"

"Yeah. Suppose I should too." As Cheesecake Eater Lad watched Kid
Kirby leave he could feel a presence. He looked up at the ceiling.
"UN?" No. Nothing. Just shadows.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Fearless Leader's eyes opened up. He looked over at his clock. Noon.
How long had he been asleep? Need to wake up. Get up.

He stumbled out of bed. Still wearing his uniform. Must have fell
asleep in it.

He wondered what the hostage crisis was like now. He went over to his
sink and poured himself a glass of water. After swallowing the water,
he made his way over to the lobby.

As he walked into the lobby, he noticed the room was filled with
paramilitary types. He saw the Ultimate Ninja speaking to some of them.

"UN. The situation. An update?"

The Ultimate Ninja turned his head towards Fearless Leader. A number of
paramilitary types began pointing their guns at Fearless Leader. "Why
ask, Fearless Leader? You already know the answer. Arrest him!"

"Put your hands in the air!" said one of the gunmen.

"What the...?" said Fearless Leader as he raised his hands slightly.
"Wait. What the hell is going on?"

The Ultimate Ninja clicked a TV remote in his hand towards the big TV
screen in the lobby. "As you should know, the mission was successful.
Take a look."

Fearless Leader saw black and white footage of a battle between Freedom
Chippers and the Terrorists. One scene showed a battle between the
Ultimate Ninja and the terrorist leader. The terrorist leader was
putting up a very good fight. As the terrorist leader made his escape,
the Ultimate Ninja ripped the mask right off the terrorist leader's face
to reveal a face that Fearless Leader knew very well. The face was
Fearless Leader's face.

"That's -- that's not real! I was nowhere near -- look, Irony Man can
vouch for me. We were talking together yesterday. Irony Man?"

Irony Man shrugged his arms. "I was talking to someone who looked like
Fearless Leader. Could have been a shapeshifter or..."

"You lying..." Fearless Leader glared at Irony Man and then turned his
attention to the Ultimate Ninja. "Let's quit the game. You know this
is BS. And the idea that I could escape from the 'real' Ultimate Ninja
is laughable. Or the idea that I would come back to the LNHHQ after I
escaped from him."

"Are you suggesting something?" said the Ultimate Ninja as he pulled his
Ginsu katana out of his belt.

"Yes. There's something wrong about you, UN. The way you hold that
katana suggests you don't know how to use it. That look on your face --
is a nervous look. A look that says you can be beaten. You never have
that look on your face. At least you didn't. I guess now days though
you need a squad of paramilitary types to beat someone. You need to
hire actors and shapeshifters for your victories."

"You're delusional. I'll take you on right here."

Fearless Leader laughed and shook his head. "No. Not today. And not
me. I'll leave you for the real thing. He's out there. And he's
watching."

"Coward," sneered the Ultimate Ninja.

"I guess you better take me to jail."

A couple of paramilitary types put handcuffs and leg cuffs on Fearless
Leader.

Fearless Leader shot a look at the Ultimate Ninja. "Oh, yeah -- and
wReamicus -- enjoy this. Enjoy it all. It's all going to end very soon."

wReamicus Maximus, in his cloned Ultimate Ninja body, looked at the
Ginsu Katana in his hand and then at Fearless Leader and his men.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Take him away! Take him away!"

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Some bar --

Mr. Homage tapped one finger on the table as he watched the two other
people who were sitting with him. One was a man whose face and hands
were all different colors. The other was a man wearing a cowboy hat
with a shirt that read 'Will Have Sex For Beer!' "Who is this person
you're with Color Error Man? I told you to come alone."

"Oh, he's cool, Mr. Homage. He's my Brother-In-Law! You remember my
kid sister Donna? She married him."

"Yeah. Color Error Man's Brother-In-Law. The one. The only. Except
No Substitute." Color Error Man's Brother-In-Law pumped up his fist in
the air. "Yee Ha!"

"I see." Mr. Homage took a pretzel out the bowl. "Look. I'd really
prefer that we speak alone." He snapped the pretzel in two with his
fingers.

"Oh, sure! I understand." Color Error Man turned his eyes towards his
Brother-In-Law. "Why don't you get us some drinks -- umm -- what do you
want Mr. Homage?"

"Vodka Martini. Shaken. Not Stirred."

"Umm -- and get me -- oh, I don't know -- anything with a lot of color
in it."

"Gotcha!" Color Error Man's Brother-In-Law slapped Color Error Man on
the back. "Gonna get me some Hair of Dawg -- see you ladies later!"
Color Error Man's Brother-In-Law headed for the bar.

"Um -- sorry for that, Mr. Homage. Please don't have him killed. It
would break Donna's heart -- I mean..."

"Relax, Color Error Man. Just need the inside scoop on what's happening
with the LNV. Ever since Rumor Monger disappeared my info line into
what's happening has been cut. Speaking of -- you don't know what
happened to Rumor Monger, do you?"

"Nah. Can't say I do. All I know is Mynabird wants him dead or alive."

"What's the mood like over there? Ripe for rebellion?"

"Hmm. It's okay I guess. People are okay with Mynabird. He gets us
what we need. Helps us get out of jail. I think most people are
satisfied."

"I see." Mr. Homage snapped another pretzel into two. "But there have
to be some that want a different direction. Right?"

"I guess. Want me to make a list of names?"

"Yes. That would be good. What is his goal anyways?"

"Goal? I guess killing that Easily-Discovered Man sidekick. What's his
name? That's his goal."

"A sidekick? No. You don't create a vast supervillain army to kill
some sidekick. No. It must be something bigger. Something grand. He
wants to destroy the LNH. He wants to rule the world. Am I right?"

"I guess."

"What is his next action?"

"Oh -- um. Assassinating the President? Yeah -- that's what's up next.
Yeah."

"Assassinate the -- Why? What reason could he have for doing something
like that?"

"Umm -- don't know. I think it's all tied to killing that sidekick."

"Killing a sidekick? Killing a --? No. It has to be for some grand --
I can't even think of why. It seems idiotic. Why would -- wait. No.
He couldn't be that clever. Could he? That would -- that would mean
he's almost as clever as -- as I am! That can't be! Could it? Have I
been underestimating him? Is he on the same level of cleverness that I
am? Unthinkable! But what if it's true?! Damn! My God! When is he
doing it? Assassinating the President?"

"Umm -- April 16th, I think. You gonna do something, boss?"

"Hmm." Mr. Homage stroked his metal plate chin. "I suppose more
patriotic person might warn our President. Am I that person? I need to
think about that."

**** <<--BM-->> ****

The White House --

Can't sleep.

Hex Luthor walked over to his window and drew open the curtains.
Nighttime. Of course you couldn't tell anymore. It was all Beige, the
sky. No stars. Or moon. Just Beige.

He had big day tomorrow. Everything was going to happen. There was
going to be a big battle. Filled with heroes and villains. The heroes
were going to make one last attempt to stop him. One last attempt to
halt the inevitable. Bicycle Repair Lad would be there. Yes. He
would. They would battle for one last time. And he would kill him.
Yes. He would finally kill him.

A New World was coming. A New Age. And Bicycle Repair Lad would have
no place in it.

No. There would be new heroes. Him. Hex Luthor. The Savior of the World.

He took out the Cosmic Plot Device hidden in his pocket. Tomorrow. It
would all change. Tomorrow.

He looked at the time on his watch. Midnight.

Well. What do you know? Tomorrow is already here. Hex Luthor smiled.

And closed the curtains.

**** <<--BM-->> ****

NEXT: The Conclusion of Imperium Hex...

**** <<--BM-->> ****

Credits:

Ideas for Beige Midnight by Saxon Brenton, James Enright, Lalo Martins,
Martin Phipps, Rob Rogers, and Arthur Spitzer...

Dekay and Diskolor, The Bryttle Brothers created by Todd "Scavenger"
Kogutt, used with permission...

Hexadecimal Luthor created by Chris Hare and reinvented by Saxon Brenton...

HexFire Club

Manga Man - Craig Thomas Judd
Mr. Tiddles - Saxon Brenton
Mr. Nasty (Ultimate Savior) - Martin Phipps
wReamicus Maximus (Ultimate Ninja) - wReam
Irony Man - Doug Moran

LNH'rs

Bicycle Repair Lad - Chris Hare
Catalyst Lass - Elisabeth Riba
Cannon Fodder - wReam
Cheesecake Eater Lad - M. Jotham Millheiser
Dr. Stomper - T. M. Neeck
Fearless Leader - Dave Van Domelen
HellCatalyst - Jeff McCoskey
Kid Kirby - Jameel Al Khavitz
Knife Fight Dude - Arthur Spitzer
Wikiboy - Tom Russell

The Bicycle Liberation Front - Saxon Brenton

Fourth Wall Lass - Saxon Brenton
Retcon Lad - Saxon Brenton
Anal-Retentive Archive Kid - Saxon Brenton
Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy - Jamas Enright
Lenny the squirrel - Saxon Brenton
Net.Elementalist - Jamas Enright
Twitter - Rob Rogers

LNV'rs -

Legion of Net.Villains - Unknown
Color-Error Man -- Drizzt
Color-Error Man's Brother-In-Law - Arthur Spitzer
Dr. Virus Love - Arthur Spitzer
Mynabird (suit) - Rob Rogers
(mite) - Arthur Spitzer
Mr. Homage - Drizzt
Ripping Dancer - Arthur Spitzer
Romantic Innuendo I - wReam
Romantic Innuendo II - Martin Phipps (?)
Vector Sublime - Rob Rogers and Arthur Spitzer

Others -

Al-Qaeda Amerika - Saxon Brenton
ApocaLISP - Saxon Brenton
Dizzy Collar - Arthur Spitzer
Dr. Boom - The Saint
The Gothic Gorilla - Arthur Spitzer
Iron-Fisted Imam -- Saxon Brenton
Jane Smith - Martin Phipps
Joe Ordinary and his brother - Martin Phipps
Sahar - Saxon Brenton
Ultimate Savior - Arthur Spitzer
The Very-Disturbed-Scary-Creature Man - Arthur Spitzer

Arthur's Notes:

A quarter of the way through...

Oh and just incase you're wondering, Beige Midnight takes place around
March and April 2008...

If you're confused about this story you can read these...

http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Infinite_Leadership_Crisis
http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Beige_Countdown
http://www.lnhq.info/wiki/Beige_Midnight

(Probably won't help)...

Arthur "Tired of this..." Spitzer