Synergy ducked instinctively as the telephone pole whizzed over his head, splintering against the brick wall behind him and landing with a resounding crash beside him. “Holy cow, that was close,” he muttered, and lunged forward in an attempt to come to grips with the creature that had thrown hit at him.

	Darkenwulf had identified it as an ‘Annharath’, a creature resembling a cross between a ten foot tall gorilla and a reptile, that was to the Domain what apes were to humans. Its blue, leathery skin was at least as thick as Hauler’s, and it seemed interested only in trashing the landscape around it out of fear. “Remember,” howled the lupine alien, “this creature is not malevolent. We must calm it down, not destroy it!”

	Black Tiger grunted from his position around the annharath’s neck. “Ugh, easy for you to say, Hauler’s still trying to get the really big critter over there quieted down.” Unfortunately for the feline hero, the annharath took that moment to reach behind it, and pluck him from its back, and hurl it into the path of the onrushing Synergy, sending both tumbling head over heels.

	“Come on,” cried Flamestrike, “I’m pretty sure I can toast it!”

	Standing beside her, well back from the brawl, Silverlance stopped her. “No, it’s just a dumb animal, we don’t want to hurt it. However... once they’ve untangled themselves, hit Synergy in the back of the head with your flames. He said he gets stronger when he absorbs energy, and this should be the time to find out just how much he can take.”

	While this discussion was taking place, the creature roared a challenge, pounding the ground with fists even larger than Hauler’s.  The result was that it cracked the pavement at its feet, and began to lose its footing. Confused and angry, it began attacking the ground in earnest, ripping up huge chunks of asphalt, and hurling them in random directions. One such block narrowly missed Darkenwulf, whose own bestial instincts saved him from being brained by a particularly large chunk. However, this also gave Synergy and Black Tiger time to get to their feet.

	“Synergy!” Hearing his name, the older hero turned to Silverlance. “Flamestrike is going to ‘charge you up’, so to speak! If you do get stronger, I want you to try and get that thing in a wrestling hold, something to incapacitate him!” called the albino leader of Legion. The older man nodded, and stood his ground.

	The street was bathed in a golden light as bright as the sunlight streaming down on this bright summer’s day, as a bolt of yellow-white flame raced at incredible speeds from Flamestrike’s outstretched hand, impacting squarely with the back of Synergy’s head. But rather than being harmed by it, the hero stood straighter. His skeleton seemed to almost glow briefly inside him, and when the bolt had run its course, he even looked slightly younger. He flexed his muscular arms a bit, then rushed the confused beast, and leapt full on to his back.

	Still obsessed with destroying the pavement that had seemingly betrayed him, the creature barely noticed the pest that hopped on its back. However, when one arm snaked around its neck, and began to slowly but surely apply pressure, it certainly noticed. It was confused, for it could still breathe, but began to weaken. It rushed backwards, slamming its back and the pest into a brick wall and caving the wall in, but the pest did not dislodge. It stepped forwards to try again, but its foot faltered, and it fell to one knee. Roaring, it reached up to wrench the annoyance away, but found that this creature was far stronger than the earlier, black furred one. A few moments later, it passed out, unconscious.

	The five heroes gathered around the unconscious creature. Silverlance turned to Darkenwulf. “So you think that a Domain zoo ship may have crashed here? Or ws this just an attempt to sow chaos? If so, why here?”

	The lupine whuffed in thought, and scratched at his nearly black fur. “I do not know. One would think that any dischord they sought to create would be centered on Patriot City. And, yet, there would be no reason for the Zoo ship to be anywhere near Earth space. We shall ponder on it later, we must find out how Hauler fares with the Shardox, and how the others fare with the smaller creatures.”

	About that time, Calvin sniffed the air, and looked at his feet nervously. “Umm, guys, the ground’s starting to shake... and I smell that really big thing again.”

	Sure enough, a rhythmic pounding was soon audible to the ears of the gathered heroes. “That is not the pace of a Shardox,” said Darkenwulf. “I suspect our strongest member was forcest to render his target unconscious, regrettably.”

	Less than thirty seconds later, the huge form of an unconscious alien quadroped became visible around the corner of a building. Of course, said quadroped was not walking, but being carried, and was not unconscious. Instead, it looked indignant, and confused, yet did not argue as the eight foot tall metahuman carried it over his head. Though the creature was twice as tall as an elephant, with the build of a rhino, he easily managed the incredible mass. “So... what do we do with them now?” asked Hauler.

	“Good god... that’s one big critter!” marvelled Synergy, as the energy charge he held slowly faded, and he returned to normal.

	“Yes,” agreed Darkenwulf, “an impressive specimen. That individual is perhaps nearly fifty tons. Perhps as much as one of your military’s tanks.”

	Silverlance had grown used to seeing hauler perform such incredible feats of strength, and turned his gaze to the skies. “And the others?”

	Right behind him, Dragonlord landed from the sky. He was covered in multi-colored splotches, and bore a disgruntled look on his face. “I fear, m’lord, that the apprehension of yon avian aliens is not meant to be this day. It appears they took out their frustrations on mine form... in the time honored manner of terrestrial avians demonstrating contempt for statues.” he then stood proudly, ignoring the outbursts of laughter and mirth. Even the Shardox seemed amused at the sight.

	“So where’s Wingstorm?” asked Silverlance when he could catch his breath. 

	“I know not. After they... assaulted me, she flew off after them, and their greater speed soon had them out of my sight.”

	“And Jarhead?” asked Black Tiger. “He was going after the smaller ones.”

	“When last I saw him, he was racing after some rodent-like creature, with three horns and a knob on its tail, whilst carrying a crate filled with what specimens he had already gathered,” answered the green scaled hero.

	“Ah, a Halcycabra,” said Darkenwulf. “They make excellent pets if raised from a youngling.”

	About this time, they heard a ragged “Haaaaalp!” coming from around the building to the east, and saw their erstwhile companion running as fast as he could, carrying a box full of cute, fuzzy creatures. Behind him, however, was a not-so-cute fuzzy creature. Resembling the a cross between a warthog and a sloth, with the worst traits of each, it was snarling and pumping short clawed legs furiously in an attempt to get to the two-legged entity that had dared to try to pick it up.

	Black Tiger stifled a chuckle, and hopped over the running jarhead, stopping directly in the path of the ugly thing. It paused, and stared at him. So, Calvin did what came naturally - he roared. The explosion of sound rattled windows down the street, and terrified the creature so badly it passed out cold at his feet. Calmly, he picked up the critter, and deposited it in the box that Jarhead was carrying. “There ya go. not so difficult now, eh?”

	“Gee roar at it, why didn’t I think of that?” quipped Jarhead. “That’s the last of ‘em, by the way.”

	“No, it’s not,” said Silverlance, “and I’m beginning to get worried about Wingstorm. She’s almost as young as Calvin, and she’s not back yet. None of those avians were dangerous, were they, Darkenwulf?”

	“One may be. The Ulcastrian Roc is normally docile, but can be as horrible a foe as the Anharrath when angered. That is the source of the particularly large grey splotch on Dragonlord’s back,” answered the lupine.

	As Dragonlord grumbled something about laundry and a bath, the others were suddenly treated to a magnificent sight. Bursting from the low-hanging clouds like an angel descending from heaven, young Wingstorm was swooping through the sky in slow, graceful arcs. Around her, dozens of alien birds in every color of the rainbow danced, a living symphony of color and form. Their songs mixed with her laughter as they played in the air, and they were soon joined by the bass of their aerial song, a massive bird the size of a horse, covered in burning read feathers. It, too, looped around her, exulting purely in the feeling of the freedom of flight. “They like me,” she called down, before returning to her aerial ballet.

	Even the Shardox, still being held aloft by Hauler, stared at the sight. They were all overcome by awe at this, and at the amazing rapport the young lady had developed in so short a time with these creatures from the skies of a dozen alien worlds. Eventually, she made her way down to the ground, where the birds settled on her shoulders, or on the ground around her. “They’re beautiful,” she breathed to Darkenwulf. “But how do we keep them from flying away again?”

	“I have come into contact with Mentor, of Freedom Force,” he answered. “He is sending over some of his allies in what he calls the ‘Freedom Transport’, to ferry these creatures back to the Freedom Fortress. From there, friends of his in the Rebellion against the Domain will smuggle them back to their respective homeworlds.”

	Jarhead caught the hidden statement in that. “Even ol’ ape-thing over there?”

	A grin spread across Darknwulf’s muzzle. “Even him.”

	“Where, exactly?”

	Darkenwulf seemed to ponder. “I shall discuss it with mentor, of course... but I was thinking that perhaps inside Lord Dominion’s palace would be a good home for the anharrath.”

	The gathered members of Legion started laughing, and did not stop until Mentor and the Freedom Transport arrived.

***********************************

	“I must tell you, Darkenwulf, it is good to see one of your kind that has extricated himself from enslavement to my people,” said Mentor, shaking the much larger lupine’s hand.

	“And it is good to see one of the Domain who has forsaken the aznar method, and allowed his form to remain in its natural state, instead of becoming the bizarre mockery of your race that Lord Dominion, Praetor, and the rest have become,” was the response. “I suspect that it may be the aznar method that has led to your peoples’ megalomania.”

	“I would not doubt it. Now, my friend, Minuteman, would like to speak to your assembled Legion.” he stepped back, and the familiar sight of the Star Spangled protector of Patriot City stepped out from the Freedom Transport.

	Silverlance noticed Synergy and jarhead both snapping to attention, and resisting the urge to salute, and held back a chuckle. He stood as straight and as tall as he could, and looked at the eyes of the hero approaching him. “It is good to meet you, Minuteman. Mountainrock may be a more peaceful place than Patriot City, but we would like to think that we are doing as good a job of protecting here as you are protecting your home.”

	The Silver Age Sentinel smiled proudly. “And so it appears you have, Silverlance. You’ve gathered a rather powerful group, there, from what Mentor tells me. Although I do have to ask... why does only one of you wear a mask?”

	“Well,” began Silverlance, “it’s simply because trying to maintain a secret identity would be problematic. Since everyone would know where we were based out of, anyway, the hostel would be a target no matter what. Also, most of us have no friends or family outside of the hostel and each other, so we don’t need to protect them, either. And as mentor can agree with, for some of our members, a mask would do nothing to conceal identity, such as Hauler, Black Tiger, Wingstorm, or Darkenwulf.”

	Minuteman nodded. “This is true. However, once we get these creatures back to the Freedom Fortress, and transferred to mentor’s allies, I would like to speak some more with you. Perhaps develop some means by which either team could contact the other in times of great need.”

	“Sounds good,” said Silverlance. “At least we aren’t doing what the heroes of the comics books usualy did, and fight the first time they met each other.”

	“Yes, that would be a bad situation,” laughed the Patriotic Protector. “Well, it seems that Supercollider and Hauler have managed to get the last of them on board, so we’ll be leaving. Be vigilant, Silverlance!”

	While the two team leaders had been discussing between themselves, Mentor had caught sight of Black Tiger. Frowning, he approached the teen. “And of what race are you? I know of no felinoids with your phenotype.”

	“Huh?” said Calvin. “I’m human, mutated by Energy X, like almost everyone else here.”

	“No, you are not,’ said Mentor. “I can feel the very presence of Energy X. And I tell you, you have never been touched by it. What is more, according to your aura, you are not, and never have been, human.”

*************************************

	Beyond the reaches of even mentor’s nearly priescent psionic powers, a shadow frowned. “The boy must never know the truth,” it rumbled to itself, and wrapped itself closer in the shadows. “At least, not until the time is right to rip the truth from his soul, and destroy it.”

	The shadow rolled over in its throne of darkness, and shifted its perception to another region. “Black Blade... how fares your operation?”

**************************************

	“It goes well, my Master,” muttered Black Blade, as he beheld his Doom Guard at work. The Government had hidden a secret military base not far from Mountainrock, in fact just outside Rock Springs, in the mountains there. But their defenses were not prepared for the supernatural invasion that was to come, and the Doom guard had either killed or captured every single soldier present. They manned the appropriate stations, now, keeping regular, if fabricated, status reports, to maintain the illusion of a properly running base. 

	Having sent his message to his dark lord, Black Blade strode out of his quarters, and sought out his chief lieutenant, Vampyre. The swordsman’s black armor seemed to glisten with an unholy sheen, as if reflecting the grim satisfaction he felt in this accomplishment. As he passed various members of the Doom Guard in the hall, they saluted or bowed as was appropriate for their station and function, showing the deference he felt he was most certainly due. After a few minutes, he arrived at the door to the command center. “Vampyre. Please report what you have discovered.”

	The inhumanly beautiful entity, once a mere mercenary, bowed elegantly. “Of course, m’lord. It seems that this base held another secret, one which I have finally pried from the mind of the base commander by means of the... talents our master has granted me. It seems that this base controls fully half of the nuclear arsenal of the united States, including many stationed in secret locations around the world, against several treaties signed by the president.” He smiled at this, baring fleaming, needle sharp fangs. “I do believe that should please you, yes?”

	“Most certainly, Vampyre. Have the Doom Guard prepare every available nuclear weapon for launch. This world shall end in fire, and the next shall begin in darkness.”