Posts Tagged ‘Great Crime Fighters’


“Fuck me!” the green flames seared metal. The liquifying substance heated that Rick felt on his skin as the spear sears into the armour. Excalibur twists, barely re-forged.

 

Guinevere cackles.

 

Susan aims. Her finger pulls both triggers unleashing a flurry of pellets into the immortal and ancient evil.

 

From around Rick’s neck absorbing the green flame a pencil size dragon emerges. Lightning shooting from its mouth striking Guinevere in the right eye jerking her back. Rick smirks. She won’t release the spear now embedded into his abdomen. The abdomen and armour of the Bionic Knight—the PenDragon—reincarnated—rebirthed—King Arthur of Camelot.  A magic spear that is apart of her form.

He hears Susan open the shotgun again she is searching for more shells.

The Ancient Evil, kingdom destroyer, power seeker… truly what Shakespeare described in absolute power corrupts…absolutely.  She locks eyes into Rick’s as Pen circles. Rick notes the green flames licking at the miniature dragon.

He flashes a grin to Susan, and a wink. Mouths simply, “I love you.”

“Aww, what a lie Arthur.”  Guinevere said.

She was mere inches away from him now. Rick could feel the blood beginning to boil.  He locks eyes on Guinevere.  “For the last time, I am not Arthur. I am Rick Saturn, and unlike you sad power players, that woman over there and I are deeply in love.” Rick nods ever so slightly, as he raises Excalibur up, the green flame flowing around it. “And I end you, so she may live”

A roar of a much larger dragon escapes Pen’s mouth as he swoops up under Guinevere’s chin and chomps down on the shadow neck as the green flame channels through him like a chocolate milkshake through a straw.

Unearthly wail escapes Guinevere’s lips.

Excalibur slams into her side and upward shards exploding inside her as Rick smile widens. “Two simple words queeny! Bionics Off!” the last word capped by a bubble of blood he spits forward.

Lightning erupts.

“Rick!”

Green flame and fog suck in.

Implosion.

Susan stands. Johnny Power and Speedster are still down in need of medical aid. Somewhere in the sound vacuum there is ambulances coming. MacKay pushes himself up to a knee but can’t catch his breath, a broken rib or three. The Great Crime Fighters sidelined. Once more victory left to the Bionic Knight.

Susan’s ears ring as she stares at the spot where the three mystical figures brought to a conclusion a story of hatred and betrayal as old as time.

The silence vacuum ends.

Susan watches as a flash.

The very human form of Rick Saturn lands on the asphalt.

A wound in his side.

His blood on the concrete.

She runs to him.

A hint of fog.

Guinevere’s body.

Still alive.
Decaying like a zombie as she crawls towards Rick. A shard of Excalibur in her hand. “Die Arthur.”

Susan’s boot slams into her jaw.
She hears a rattle from Rick’s body.

She is at his side. Guinevere pushing herself up hissing. But Susan focuses on her husband. Her high school sweet heart, soul mate, the one that made her whole.

Her hand slips into his burned hand.

“Sorry, Susie.”

“Shhhh… Rest. I hear an ambulance.”

Rick shakes his head as a coughing fit over comes him. “Sorry I didn’t make it back.” His voice is fading.

Susan feels the water in her eyes of her heart breaking. When she believed he was dead she chose a new path. Now she knew he wasn’t and to save the world he had again put his life on the line. Only the ancient evil was stumbling in old b movie horror zombie slo-mo towards them.

Susan kissed Rick.

Guinevere’s newly decomposing mouth freezes and for a moment MacKay’s old eyes thinks he sees the ancient evil mouth “No.”

A brilliant golden flash baths the area.

And gray dust is all that remains of the ancient evil.

Susan feels the burned skin of Rick’s body flake away. His rattling chest stops. His eyes close as her tears hit his cheek.

His eyes pop open.

Golden light floods out of his body.

She smiles.

He heals.

Absolute power may corrupt absolutely. The curse of Camelot and the corruption of absolute power is answered…for your see….

As Rick and Susan have always known.

Love wins.

Sealed with a kiss.

Reborn with the water of a tear.

A New Beginning…

 

 

 


Best way to understand the new Johnny Power in action is he reminded him of the Eleventh Doctor, the one that seemed to have adult ADHD or even Hammy off Over the Hedge on the energy drink. It’s usually Speedster’s that have focus issues, but in this new duo it was the leaping over tall buildings and super strength that produced the focus issues.

The Evil was moving rapidly towards the red headed woman dressed for a night out of clubbing. He pegged her age mid-20’s if she was a day…and soon she would join the previous victim. Power is flitting about all over, thankfully Speedster he noted is trying to get a deeper focus with the rumbling skies, flashing lightning and fog.  Fog was new. The Evil was trying to cover its tracks.  He had to stop the advance upon the victim.

What the hell had MacKay been thinking sending these two out into the hunting grounds?

* * * * **

Susan turned to the words. MacKay aimed his shotgun as the dust cleared.

Zed dusted some of the splinters off him. His robes had burn holes.  The skin that was burnt began regenerating as it is what ancient immortal alien beings hiding on earth from those that would destroy them do.

Susan glanced at the immortal being, he appeared to almost be cowering behind MacKay, attempting to still look strong.  The words though kept ringing in her ears. “Bionics on.” Only two others had used that phrase, her best friend and lover, and his best friend. Who was back there?

Pen wasn’t providing any insight, he had startled awake and was softly growling.

Sheath lightning fills the Ashram (double wide) again.

Thunder cracks.

Another voice as the trailer whites out with lightening.

“The Great Crime Fighters I presume.”

* ******

The fog fills in the hunting grounds surrounding the four. He loses track of whom he believes The Evil’s prey to be.

“J somethings coming.” Speedster said.

Power attempts to leap up out of the fog that is at six feet high and rising.

Mystery’s eyes lock onto the prey only… she’s no longer there. “A mirage.” It comes out as a whispering hiss. How could he have missed that.  The Evil was not after another normal mortal but… “a supra.”  He whirls on his wing tips.

The fog turns to fire.

“Fuck me. I know this evil.”

 

* * * * * * *

Another flash of lightening as the dust cleared.

The armour shimmered.

The sword was drawn in a parry formation.

The helmeted eyes crackled with green flame.

“Step aside villain. The godling must perish.” A voice that resounded as a Greek Chorus.

Susan moved in front of MacKay much to his protestations. Her eyes locked on the armoured figure. No recognition from the Knight before them. But there was a pull she felt to look into the reflective helmet.

“Who are you?” Susan asked.

The figure in the armour stepped forward again. “I am the PenDragon. The one this world calls the Bionic Knight. If you stand with this thing called Zed, then you are my foe.” The sword thrusts forward. “And you shall die.”

To Be Continued…

 

 

 

 


He watches the duo that Shotgun, his old adversary, dubbed “Thunder and Lightning”- passionate kids that they are for this line of work. There were two other duos that had the names Thunder and Lightning. Legitimately it wasn’t a nick name to the first, but rather their pseudonyms in a Circus Freak Show that they used as their base of operations for committing crimes. Thunder was the bearded strong woman, Lightning was a mad scientist, she had turned herself literally into electricity. The man remembers his Dad sharing stories of battling them.

The other were young heroes like these two, run away caught up in adventures. Died far too young as a government used them on a message far to dangerous.

But the media had always dubbed the tandem of Johnny Power and Speedster with it. Confusing yes, but wasn’t the world of super heroes such.  These two had done good in their short careers. The man remembered the original Johnny Power that this one had replaced, they had shared many a beer after successful adventures, and saving the universe. This Speedsters grandfather and father he remembered fondly as well. A pretty good BBQ burger maker they were.

Now he watched as they staked out around the hunting ground. MacKay was attempting to keep them safe by giving them busy work. Unfortunately, the busy work had placed them on the hunting path. The ripples of energy were speaking to it. It was back.

He adjusted the kerchief around his face and fixed his fedora. His long trench coat billowed a bit in the wind as his feet floated off the asphalt. The air rippled with thunder, and literal lightning began flashing.  It is coming.

The man floated towards the two standing around the cathedral where the last victim was struck.  The night was falling, and the clubs were opening.

The hunt would begin.

These two would try their best but they are not fully trained, he needed to keep them in sight.

The red head fell behind her group of friends due to the heals she wore. If you could see as he saw, you would see the white teeth glittering from the shadows.

  • * * * * **

MacKay adjusted his worn beaver hide cowboy hat.  The silver highlights in Susan’s hair shimmered with the sheath lightening through the window the trailer dubbed the Ashram. Zed had disappeared into the back bedrooms.

Susan studied her old friend’s face. The crow’s feet were deeper, and the graying whiskers were more salt than pepper now. “This was easier when I was the one playing the villain.”

Susan looked at the haunting in the man’s green eyes. He wasn’t lying to anyone, he had been cast in the role of mentor for this new generation. Not the role he was comfortable in, the old villain turned hero still struggled with the code of villainy in his new reality. But without John and Rick, he was what they had. Hopefully J.P. and the Speedster were up to the challenge of battling the ancient evil.

Pen rested nuzzling her neck. “Probably was, but you wear the white hat well kemosabe.” Susan said. A creaking sound from the back room in the double wide. MacKay’s hand picks up his 12 gauge and he motions with his finger for quiet. He slowly pulls back the triggers. Zed had been levitating, he wouldn’t be creaking.

“Zed?!” MacKay shouts.

Door splinters and an ancient godling alien fly down the hallway with two simple words in a burst of lighting inside.

“Bionics On!”

To Be Continued….


It is weird the things that run through your mind as a disembodied journalist, who has a theological background (though comics and myths already alluded higher meaning to me). As Rick floats through this weird limbo since imploding the dimension once known as Camelot.  Must be Anglican guilt speaking to him (it’s like Catholic guilt, but the inner voice comes with a British Accent) …for it is the story of Salome that speaks into his mind when he notes the small portal spark open and mind push Pen through to his wife.

Time to change things up. Time to be able to step through the horrors forced to be apart of. A child, used a lecherous offering by a megalomaniac villain. Herod Tetrarch. The Herod family was not about their faith or their people, they were about power. They played all sides of Roman Civil wars to ensure they always maintained power regardless of the winner. As Rick sends Pen through he sees the Ashram, Zed reminded him of the Herod family.

Yet this Herod may or may not have killed his own brother to wed his brother’s wife. But only to legally get to the niece.  This is the activity John the (Harbinger) Baptist called him out about publically, and was imprisoned for. But the line about the woman scorned. For it was Herod’s wife/sister-in-law that saw the need to go further. One of Rick’s favourite versions is found in Levi’s reimagining of the Cosmic Christ story in the early 1900’s the Aquarian Gospel.

But it is the lecherous uncle that truly wants Salome, and gets her to dance/strip in his drunken party.  And when she has him so wound up, he states he will give her anything, and that is when the mother strikes stating for her daughter to ask for John’s head on a platter…and yes it does not go well for the young Salome presented with this dead head on a silver platter.

The pursuit of absolute power pushing out anything else. The drive for revenge and being “right”. All warnings for any hero.  Warnings to ensure decisions made do not affect the young or that trauma is not passed down.

Rick’s astral projection was not alone in these ruminations. For next to him, was his old partner, John MacCurtis. Believed dead. Unable to be redeemed after he had been possessed by an insane alien entity seeking to destroy all.  The death if the truth was fully leaked out would have left him tarnished, cast away as a traitor, a fraud. His long hero lineage not seen.

Which brings Rick back to ancient ponderings around the child Salome, and the woman Salome at the tomb. The ultimate healing-redemption for this traumatized-abused child assassin.   For there is growing thoughts after the head on the platter she fled to the streets, and found home within the Christines. Even so to become part of the strong inner circle of women that stood their sacred ground at the darkest time.

“Rick what’s the score?”

“About the same Johnny.”

“Funny I thought we used to have bodies.”

“Okay maybe a bit worse off than usual. But I got Pen to Susan.” Rick said.

Rick’s mind was reeling, they had to get back. Pen was a toggle back to the mortal realm, the earthly what was usually known as Midgard. But there without him, the ancient evil had re-manifested. He could hear the echoes. The implosion of the realm that trapped him here had kept him trapped had allowed for the cell to break open.

John glanced at the small portal as it was about to close. Rick was his friend. Had been for most of his life. Partners in many world saving ventures. Rick had stood by him when he lost his family. Stood by him through the craziness with the Thor possession. Stood with him through the mayoral race. Through being mayor. The dark time and the re-emergence. And even with the darkness seizing his soul again. Yet even with dying so that the world could be saved, and being on the wrong side of good in that moment. His friend came for him again.

But it was time.

Time to truly pay him back.

“Rick!”

His friend turned.

Focus complete.

Energy shared.

Peace earned.

With two final words

“Bionics On!”

As his fist knocked his friend towards the portal that he was tethered to Pen through.

John MacCurtis winked at his friend.

“Give Susie a hug for me.”

Rick’s astral body struck the portal before closure.

A flash of lightning.

As the limbo remaining from Camelot.

As John MacCurtis.

Winked out.

To Be Continued…


Walt Longmire. Leichtman (Lie to Me); Sherlock (from Elementary); Sherlock (from Sherlock); Spenser; Jesse Stone; Rake and Patrick Jane (Mentalist) were his type of main characters.  Susan chuckled at the thought as she stood on the steps. She clearly stated he had a type, Rick would always deny it saying what is so similar about them all? She pointed to the A-hole with a golden heart scenario.

Every time before he had vanished, over the last few decades…five for sure the world thought he was dead.  Each time he claimed her as his lightning rod. The Lois Lane to his Superman (thanks to the New 52 there may be a generation that will never get that reference) or the Linda Park to his Wally West (Flash). Every time he spoke the simple mantra, Bionics On; or leapt into some social justice war zone (literal and figurative) for his life as a journalist.

Twins. Special needs. One income through a dying entity—the free press. Now conglomerated and shrinking, the City news room continually being shrunk. Yet Rick Saturn survived.

Until their Mayor died.

The mayor, John MacCurtis. Childhood friend. The three of them dubbed the Three Musketeers; the Scooby Gang of Canadian Super Heroics as she back benched the Bionic Knight and PinBall. Then later The Bionic Knight and Bionic Archer. Then de-powered Archer, sought a life, was married, had a child, a dog…ran for mayor. Revealed to the world the truth of who he was.

And won.

Stood over as the heroics turned dark.

Stood with the re-united Great Crime Fighters and revealed the PinBall was live again.

John MacCurtis.

Mayor. Possessed by an alien entity. Finally, freed. Died. Rick believed at his friend’s grave his spirit spoke to him unsettled.

Cashed in savings.
Took a leave of absence.

Rick began a quest to free his friend to eternal rest or new life.

Susan pushed the blue hair out of her eyes. Staring up at the steel and glass building that reflected sunlight. Fresh rain beaded off. News cameras always were around. Always a free podium. How John would use these vultures to get things done for the better.

Money had run out at home.

Interim mayor has been arrested on embezzlement charges.

Election time according to Municipalities act is stipulating the time for election is nigh after four years with no incumbents.

Rick promised he would return. Promised it would work out.

Now there was no musketeers.

Just her.

And a city that needed help.

Kids that needed a Mum with a job.

Susan wipes the tear from her eye. Chasing John’s ghost took her soul. “But I’ll be damned if he’ll take my love.”

Susan steps to an empty podium, pulls off the white sheet covering it from the rain. A reported looks at her, she nods. Taps a microphone to a burst of static.

More turn.

“Hello, my name is Susan Kobwash-Saturn. You knew my friend, John MacCurtis as a hero and your mayor. You read my husband in the Chronicle as he battled for what was right. Today I honour both of their lives. Today I look at our amazing city, and realize it is not the city that I grew up in. It is not the city that I want to continue to raise my daughters in. I could just leave, but that is not the answer. No. I want tmy city back. So today I take the first step in reclaiming this city for its citizens. Today I Susan Kobwash-Saturn, put the big money candidates on notice. Today I am running to be your mayor.”

In the far back in a lumber jack jacket with well worn wrangler jeans, a grizzled looking man with long salt and pepper hair watches the announcement. A sheep skin work glove takes a half smoke cigar from his mouth. His one good eye winks at the lady on the stage unknown to her. He lets out a guttural chuckle and ponders that fifteen years ago it was this spit fire that had driven the tip of a dagger through his left eye to save the life of the Bionic Knight and changed the course of his life from villain to hero.

William “Shotgun” MacKay tips his fedora as he walks away from the reporters shouting questions at someone he once wished dead who had become a friend. “Bout time ya lived your passion Susie.”

The Election Begins…

As the storm rolls back after dark…

As in a public plaza an woman watches a man.

A flash of steel.

A scream.

To Be Continued…


Movies like Star Trek First Contact romanticized first contact with alien species as the ushering age of a golden age for humanity out of the dregs of war. Some Ancient Alien theories show this throughout history as well as laid out through archaeology and religious thought.  Some just benign indifference or is it more like H.G. Wells in War of the Worlds? Stephen Hawking one of, if not the, smartest man in the world has cautioned that alien life attempting to contact Earth may not be benign or ushering in a humanistic golden age.

That is what Speare is discovering lately, the intersecting of alien life and the body politic, the rips in the atmosphere and the weird sky effects causing evolutionary leaps for humanity and creating the persons known as Supras. The way the Canadian government used a super-secret agency and two specific aliens who may or may not be immortal, and each of them who had been visiting the world throughout millennia each took a lead—one of “Prophets” that became known as media darlings, The Great Crime Fighters. The other, a covert black ops team, known as Martyrs.

In their final stand the entity that had possessed the mentor was finally exorcise and believed destroyed.

Then a mysterious woman turned up dead.

The journey revealed that even though the exorcism broke the one known as Natan, the entity had survived and now was back making the Martyrs literally their name sakes. Reesa, Daemon, and Malcolm. Now they were truly gone.

Yet there was a nagging question about the murder that started it all, and that is why Speare was standing in the urbanized garden in a shopping mall. It had been closed for a time as someone had started a grow op in it. Yet here he was, as a bookseller had contacted the other immortal alien to speak with him, for Sax had to care for his lover and spouse, Natan who was formerly in a wheel chair with oxygen, but now stood in a black linen suit that caused his faded red skin to glow almost crimson as they waited for the other.

The saffron robes were a give-away.  The one who had formally been known as Zeus, during his time in Canada and being a super hero, had adopted the name Zed, he was simply known as a mystic-Tibetan Buddhist Monk.

And this is what Speare struck upon. “Aren’t you supposed to be a Greek?”

“Seriously, you have google in this era, and literally have every ancient work at your fingertips and you glanced over the whole golden shower I once was?”

“Point taken. So why?”

“A monk. It was time to take my holistic self seriously, and to learn what it truly meant to be human I felt it was necessary to enter into the life of a refugee driven from home by an oppressive regime.”

Speare nodded. “Any advice on taking out Thor?”

Zed smiled, he had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Sadly he has always been a competitor. When he took over John MacCurtis it was because something had snapped, and the dark place this once great warrior had gone through.” There was a visible shudder by Zed. “I was overjoyed when the Martyrs disbanded, and Natan,” he nods to the red man, “had reported Thor’s destruction, the locking of the bunker. Even with the price paid, it was a good day for universal relations.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious.” Sax said. It looked to Speare as he was scratching his palm, he had never noted his friend looking this uncomfortable. “But what do we do to shut Thor down for good?”

“Is he back in MacCurtis?”

And that was the golden question to be answered.

Natan smirks as he looks at Zed. “This all started when we believed Reesa was murdered, but what if Reesa was Slick, and Slick was—“

“Thor?”

 


Thunder booms, lighting cascades like a sheet, but still no rain. Speare scratches the stubble on his face, fighting the urge to take up smoking within this situation. Never was one, just seems like something a tough PI would normally do in the old Noir’s like Spade and Marlow, or maybe gourmet cooking like Spenser or drinking like Stone. But instead he is in the plaza of city hall, outside sipping on a double double hoping not to get caught in the rain, waiting on a coffee interview.

The interviewee will hopefully shed some light on the Prophets/Martyr dynamic and the memories surfacing. Sax walked away from the whole thing telling Speare it was a lifetime ago, but did give him this number to call. The number brought him to an active switchboard for the Great Crime Fighters (G.C.F.), the Super Hero set of Canada.

Yes he investigated weird as shit, ghosts, cheaters, the odd demon…but really the super hero stuff he liked to avoid as it was just a whole other level of strange.

The voice was low but echoey, almost mechanical. “Speare I presume.”

He turns, lets his hoody fall away from his bald head as he refocuses on the armoured individual. Scientific bionics, or mythical magic of Merlin, it really didn’t matter what you believed, the golden armoured individual before him had been a Canadian institution for years. “Pendragon.”

“I have recently gone retro and am using Bionic Knight again.”

“My apologies, so Mr. Knight?”

“B.K. will be fine.”

“B.K., thanks for agreeing to meet with me, my book dealer Sax passed on the switchboard number.” Speare looks into the reflective eye slits, was there some way to tell through this armour a reaction, it covers the body, and makes his usual reads impossible. Passerby are gawking.  The mayor had done the big reveal on Election Day officially retiring from his past, but the rest of the G.C.F. had remained masked since their reformation. “It seems that you are all tied into a mystery.”

“And what is this mystery?” The Knight begins walking alongside Speare, in such a way that he begins to manoeuver both of them towards City Hall.  Speare makes a note as they enter the double doors, and Bionic Knight waves off security as they step on the escalator and ride up to the level of offices.

“A woman’s death, I only have a first name and it is…”

“Reesa.” Just outside the Mayor’s office door, John MacCurtis steps out. “Her name is Reesa, that is all we ever knew as well. She killed my family.”

If Speare could see the expression under the helmet, he could’ve sworn this hero was shocked by the Mayor’s admission. “You realize Mr. MacCurtis then that…”

“Makes me prime suspect number one, possibly, but I ain’t no Martyr.” The lightening bathed the sky causing the lights of city hall lights to dip.

Another flickering of the lights. This was the type of things that made Speare strongly dislike working mysteries within the super hero community, they rapidly became conspiracy theories wrapped in science fiction with a dash of occult on a good day. On a bad day you are standing in a hall way in city hall, with the mayor claiming a dead woman killed his family, and a mystical knight beside you as the power was deciding whether or not it wanted to stay on.

The door opens again, and Jaqueline “Shade” Slick steps out with her gun already drawn. Speare couldn’t help but roll his eyes. What truly was this about at this moment?

“Mr. Mayor you need to come back into the office so we can secure it, there are reports of the storm.” Shade said.

“I am tired of the euphemismistic bullshit. It is not a storm you are worried about, you think he is coming for me.” John retorted.

Euphemisms, another layer, just like a bloody Bond file. Speare felt the pain behind his eyeballs returning. He looked from the Bionic Knight to the body guard to the mayor. “Who is coming?”

John looked Speare straight in the eye, his eye contact unwavering. The type of eye contact held that makes someone feel like they are being looked right through. The rumbles of thunder getting closer to the flashes of lightning. The Knight breaks the silence, “we can’t tell him, national security.”

“Fuck, B.K., this has nothing to do with national security, they were bloody kids and we fucked—I fucked up royally with them.” MacCurtis was yelling at this point, other office staff were beginning to move out of their offices, he motions the motley crew back into his office and Slick secures the door behind them.

The Knight lowers himself into an arm chair to the left of the desk, while Speare takes a load off in what can only be described as a womb chair. MacCurtis still visibly shaking moves behind his desk and sits down. John leans back in the chair and steeples his hands as he exhales slowly.

“Speare what do you know about world mythology?”

Speare scratches his head and looks at the mayor. Not where he was believing this conversation to go, but it was a question that touched upon an area of interest for him. “I dabbled a little in Egyptian mythology in grade school, but really Classic and Norse resonated with me quite a bit in Junior and Senior high, probably because of liking Thor and Wonder Woman comics as a kid. What does this have to do with the dead woman?”

Before MacCurtis can answer, Bionic Knight speaks. “Because it is rooted in those ancient tales, truth, and that truth is what caused the Effect many decades ago.”  The Effect was a sky effect that has happened a few times, looks like the Aurora Borealis on steroids cascading across the earth, each time a new wave of Supra beings morphs into reality. “And as much as I hate to admit it, it also speaks to the truth behind Paleo-Seti research and theory.”

Speare smiled, the hero was attempting to use technical terms to baffle him, and so he possibly wouldn’t fan boy out by the governmental agent’s admission that Ancient Aliens held truth. “And the truth of the Ancient Aliens is?”

MacCurtis burst out laughing. “Ah he’s got you there B.K., the truth is not out there, it is here, and has been here for many centuries and millennia. The Effect releases dormant DNA evolutions hidden within some of us. Two of these old buggars are a well-known secret to the Canadian Parliament.  One is well known to the world at large, Zed.”

Speare smirked, where these two having him on. “Zed is an immortal Tibetan monk.”

“Zed is short for Zeus ya dumb ass.” Slick said.

Speare looked at her as she smirked at him. “And don’t get started on Zeus being Greek and Romanized, the man impregnated throughout life as beams of light, ganders, etc…he wants to currently exist as a Tibetan he will.”

“Point taken. So what is so important about Zed?”

“Simple, he guides the heroes, the Prophets, those that break ground on justice and make things right with the world. Currently our little band calls themselves the Great Crime Fighters.” Bionic Knight said.

“And Jung showed us that there is always a shadow.” MacCurtis said.

To which the lightbulb went off, “The shadow were called the Martyrs?”

The Knight nods. “Yes, the Martyrs were a group of lost souls needing direction found by an entity known as Thor. The entity as far as we know had no physical body, it possessed John for a time that this group was up and running, aged him rapidly so he was an old man, played an Xavier role if you will, and this group of lost souls did things to save our world no one can never fathom.”

“Sax was part of this team.” Speare clicked the thoughts together.

“With Reesa.” John MacCurtis confirmed.