.|. COHERENT COMICS UNINCORPORATED ---X------------------------------------------------------------------------- '|` PRESENTS DVANDOM | -. -. -. | ________| ____ \ ,___ \ ____ \ ________| | .' \ | | / ` | | | | | | | / ___| | | | | ` / | | __| | | < | __| | | | ,--- \ \ | | | \ | | \ ` | | | / | \ / | ___| _______-' ___| ____\ -______-' ____________| #61 - "The End Of The Tour" copyright 1996 by Dave Van Domelen ============================================================================= [cover shows a pictorial roster of Dvandom Force with a red pen poised over it, ready to cross off one or more pictures. Pictures of Lynk, VAXX and Kid Pocky are scattered to one side of the page, as if awaiting the decision of which to add.] ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- One moment, DeFacto stood tall and defiant, ready to shake off the minor inconvenience caused by Spectrum's attack. The next, all that remained was a shower of rubble and two cracked and pitted feet that stood a hundred meters apart. By one of the feet lay Skysabre, Summer and the still, gray form of Kopikat. Nothing moved but the frigid winds and the tumbling wreckage that now bounced across the tundra. Squidman stood up, shaking off the last tatters of his overloaded battle gear, and muttered, "Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair." The job he'd started by killing Sig.Lad was now finished. DeFacto was no more. But how many more had died to accomplish this? Skysabre stirred, and Squidman started picking his way down the rubble-strewn hillside towards his teammate. "Ohhh...I feel like I ran a 220 Volt cable across my temple," he moaned as he unsteadily got to his feet. "Can anyone tell me what just happened? Kat? Hey, Kat...are you okay?" "But Mike, I don't wanna get up..." mumbled Summer. By the time Squidman made it over to the trio, color was starting to return to Kat's body. The last time he'd seen anyone turn grey like that was, well...better not to think about that right now. "Kat, do you remember what happened?" She stirred. "Waurgh. Um, last thing I remember was trying to connect. Must have caused a power surge that broke his concentration, or drew power to an automatic defense system, or something...since he fell apart before I could get us in." Squidman paused for a moment. Normally Kat was incredibly good at covering up any telltale body language she didn't want noticed, but he could have sworn she looked like she was lying. She knew more than she was telling. But that could wait for later...DeFacto was dead, time to go home and recover. "Okay, let's get everyone together and tend to any serious wounds. We'll need to get that power crystal out of the rubble, too, since it holds the Grangers' powers. If Joe and Cobra have half a brain between them, they're long gone by now, but just to be on the safe side I'd like someone to do a scouting run before we leave. Whoever's in good enough shape to try it." Everyone nodded, including Summer, who had been shaken awake by Skysabre. The four set out to gather the rest of the heroes and anyone else who survived. * * * * "Why did I survive?" Kat asked herself as she went about the task of moving through the rubble in search of the power crystal. "The MAC-Smasher should have wiped me out as thoroughly as it did DeFacto." A chill shot through her as she considered the possibility that DeFacto had not been destroyed after all. Panicked, she ran a comprehensive self-diagnostic of memory systems, taking a full minute to do so. No trace of him hiding inside her. She sighed in relief. Still, what had saved her? She put her hand to the ever-growing knot of...something...in her abdomen. Whatever it was, it wouldn't change shape along with her...if it got too much bigger, it might start to seriously hinder her. But could it have something to do with why the Smasher ignored her? It was as if she wasn't worth bothering with, that the Smasher had found her insignificant and passed her over. Maybe the Smasher had its fill when it devoured DeFacto. And maybe if Kat could convince herself of that she could stop obsessing over this.... * * * * In the months that had passed since the disaster, his still-loyal scientists had been busy, oh-so-busy, yes. His crushed and mangled body, clinging to life by sheer obstinance, had been repaired as well as modern medical technology allowed. And where that wasn't enough, experimental and quite possibly highly illegal technologies had been used to compensate for anything still broken or missing. And it had been a promising start, he felt. So promising, he had ordered his doctors to implement even more of these technological marvels of questionable ethics. Against their advice, he had shed old and worn out (but still servicable) body parts in favor of silicon and steel, armatures and armor. Lying there for months, hooked into virtual reality training systems to get his brain ready for the load of his body's new attachments and also keep him from going mad with the need to move, he had waited for this day. Even though he had postponed it many times to add more pieces that he felt would be beneficial in the long run, a part of him was still eager to be done with the work, to have all the pieces integrated so he could once more move freely. His doctor understood this, and thus did not take offense at any outbursts of cranky impatience. Like the one which even now split his lips (among the few original issue pieces remaining). "When the hell(TM) can I get out of this high tech cradle?" "Just a moment, one more adjustment...there. Now, move carefully, there may be something a little out of alignment that won't show itself until you engage systems fully," replied the doctor. "Aaaaah, these feedback systems work wonderfully!" he exclaimed as he stood from the support racks and flexed his new metal limbs. "It feels like I'm twenty-five again!" He moved around, experimentally at first, and then with greater confidence. "Only I wasn't nearly this tall when I was that age, Doctor Argent. This is wonderful! So much power and agility...but didn't the design specs say the elbows and knees were capable of full universal joint motion?" He moved his forearm back and forth through a constricted normal human range of motion. "Ah, yes. But even with the advanced feedback systems and your extensive course of virtual reality acclimation, there remains a strong chance of developing a sense of body alienation. If your new body feels too inhuman, your subconcious mind may be unable to cope with the changes, which can lead to insanity...usually expressed in a suicidal or at least masochistic fashion. For the moment, there are external brakes placed on your joints to restrict them to normal human ranges. Once you've had a few weeks to get adjusted, we'll start increasing your range of motion bit by bit until you have mastered the full capability of your cybernetic limbs. In an emergency, the external brakes can be broken off cleanly by applying force to them, but I strongly recommend you not do this simply for the novelty of being a contortionist." He nodded. "I take it this is why there's no built-in weapon systems, either?" "Exactly," Dr. Argent confirmed. "Your internal body image does not allow for such things as claws or arm-mounted cannons. However, these weapons can later be added on via a modular system of connectors and data ports. Again, such systems are a subject for more advanced work, once you have gotten used to the basic frame." The cyborg walked over to a full-length mirror to admire himself, then frowned slightly. "What's with the long hair? I look like an aging hippy." "Ah, the hair. Yes. This is your radiator system. The fusion plant in your abdomen can power you for many days before needing to refuel on deuterium and tritium, but the waste heat needs to be vented quickly during periods of high activity. The hair is composed of carbon monowires coated in polymerized copper, with a very high heat conduction rate and high melting point. The large surface area of the hair will allow you to safely vent heat before it an build up and start destabilizing the magnetic containment systems on your fusion plant. The hair is also the one weapon built into your body...because carbon monowires are nearly unbreakable by normal standards, they're like lines of diamond, they can cut through anything that tries to snare or grab them. Opponents may try to pull your hair, and will be rewarded by searing hot monowires slicing through their hands." "I like the idea of that," the cyborg grinned. "And it certainly fits my old nickname from the small time rackets better. Since the Queen Bee dismantled much of my empire during my convalescence, it'll be like the old days again, clawing my way up to the top. You've given me a shot at a second youth, doc. I'm not the Little Man anymore...I'm Coppermane again!" * * * * Skysabre was up in his lab experimenting on the power crystal. Since the only resident expert on dimensional travel they had said it would take at least a day or two to figure out DeFacto's operating systems, and since there had been no sign of Joe, Cobra or ATV Frank in the area, most of Team M.E.C.H.A. had taken the day off to do some touristy things. After all, none of them had been seriously injured or had their mecha damaged beyond the need for minor repairs. Dvandom Force was in far worse shape, having totally lost most of their mecha, but they weren't in any big hurry to replace them, it seemed. Squidman said that it had to do with strength of opposition...if they rebuilt the suits right away, they'd just get saddled with more powerful opponents sooner. Mike couldn't argue with logic like that. He also couldn't really put this off much longer. They'd be leaving soon, Authors willing, and he really needed to talk to Kat in private. And now that the Dvandom Force HQ was all but empty, he figured he'd have his best shot. He knocked on the door to her apartment in the base. "Kat, you busy?" Maybe she really was, and he could put this off again. Go shopping with Summer, or go with Wayne to see what the local version of Detroit was like. Well, maybe not that. Besides, Wayne was off on some mysterious errand. The door opened, seemingly of its own accord. Mike peered in. The room was fairly bare, and unlike most of the apartments of Dvandom Force members, it had no partitioning walls set up to divide it into rooms. Given that Kat's full size was about eight meters tall, this made sense, really. The only furniture in the room was shoved up against the walls, and looked like it was mainly there for the convenience of guests, not for Kat's use. "Come in," said Kat, who was seated in human form at a table in one corner. "I guess I can't put this off forever." "What?" Mike did a doubletake. "You know why I'm here?" He'd heard Kat was good at reading people, but this was creepy. "Hm? Oh, I suppose you have some message for me from Spartacus. I saw that on your face during the first meeting. Not hard to guess what it is, either...I'm a danger to myself and others. Heard it before, and yes I know I am. Spartacus doesn't know the half of it. But that's my problem to deal with. No, if you hadn't come here, I'd have had to go looking for you. It has to do with Summer, and what happened in the final battle yesterday." "What? Is she infected with DeFacto's mind or something?" "No, nothing so melodramatic. But before I go on, you have to swear to secrecy. I don't want this getting around the rest of my team, and I don't want you worrying Summer with it unless it becomes a problem. But you're her big brother, and someone should know in case she starts to... remember." Mike hesitated, but the look on Kat's face told him she was deadly serious about this. If he didn't swear to secrecy, nothing he could do would make her talk. He sighed, then replied, "Okay, I promise." Kat nodded, she could tell he was sincere. "When Summer joined me and Skysabre in a mental attack on DeFacto, we weren't kicked out immediately like I told everyone. It was a hard fought battle which lasted for some time at that scale...but only about a millisecond to the outside world. And we were totally outclassed. I kicked everyone else out and activated a sort of cyberspace doomsday device. I'm still not sure why it didn't take me with it, but I kicked the others out first so it wouldn't get them. And as a result, they had their short term memories scrambled, they forgot everything that happened in the fight." Mike's face betrayed an expression of dread. "Something terrible happened in that fight, didn't it?" he asked, knowing the answer to be yes. Kat nodded. "Summer was...violated. DeFacto did something very nasty to your sister, something I would only wish on my worst enemies. She seems to have totally forgotten it, and I hope it stays that way. But I don't really know how her memory systems work, there may still be bits and fragments of those memories left in her head. She may start to remember things without knowing where they're from. I think you can understand, though, why I don't think she needs to be told about this now. She's young, she has a lot of growing to do emotionally before she's ready to handle something like this. It could be months, even years, before any of this starts to surface, presuming it will. But if and when it does, you should be ready for it." There was silence for a moment. Mike opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally, he said, "Summer's probably more mature than you give her credit for, but I still hope you're right about the memories being erased. This all happened in her mind, and it's been wiped...so it never really happened, right?" Kat sighed, a mannerism obviously intended to create the proper emotional impact, since she didn't breathe. "Probably. And remember, it may not seem as bad to her as it does to me. I've had generations to build a mindset based on MAC lifestyles and assumptions. Summer still thinks like a human...what DeFacto did to her may have no more impact than being shot full of holes. An assault, but only on the body, not on the spirit." Mike nodded. Summer had indeed been shot full of holes before, and seemed to have completely recovered in all respects. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Still.... "I'm not sure I really wanted to know this, Kat. I've had enough angst in my life as it is." "I figured as much, which is why I've been broadcasting subliminal conditioning at you for the last several minutes. We learn a lot of tricks for dealing with human minds as Guardians, such as things that might be considered like hypnosis. It works better on a somewhat willing subject, which is why I asked you to swear to secrecy," Kat explained. "Once you leave this room, you won't be able to think about what I've told you until and unless it becomes relevant. If Summer never remembers, neither will you. But I felt you had to have the knowledge somehow, and this is safer than encoding it on disk." "Thanks, I think," Mike replied. "Y'know," he added as he turned to go, "I thought this was supposed to be a silly, lighthearted place, this 'Looniverse.'" "It is," Kat replied after Mike had closed the door and left. "Which makes the tragedies all the more painful by contrast...." * * * * "I have good news which can also be seen as bad news," Skysabre began. Everyone had returned from their various errands, including Wayne, who looked rather pleased with himself. They were all gathered together now to hear what 'Sabre had been able to figure out about the power crystal. "Great," Mike whispered to Summer. Skysabre ignored this and continued, "I've figured out how to release the energy from the power crystal and generate a dimensional gate. I've even managed to determine a way to make sure you get home within a few weeks of when you left...although to keep you from getting back before you left I'd have to send you to about a month after you left, margin of error and all that. However...I've also determined that the power can be given back to the Mighty Muddy Power Grangers. And since it's their power in the first place, I think they should get to choose how it gets used. Keep in mind, though, that this may be your only chance to get home for a while. Our Sidestep Device was destroyed in the battle and we don't have the means to create another. All the dimension-hopping superheroes we know are currently very hard to get ahold of. We could try invoking a higher cosmic power, but even if the one we got had the power to affect your home reality, you might not like the terms of the bargain. The Dvandom Stranger, for instance, would probably send you on some long mission involving time travel. So," he leaned back from the table, "What will it be?" "Ah jest wanna go home," Pinto Sally sighed, tired of the long jaunt and eager to be done with it now that her cousins had been rescued. "No way!" Hellhound griped, "I want my powers back! Being a wuss sucks!" "Huhh, huhh...you were a wuss *with* powers," Reaper chuckled. "Shut up! I'll kick yer ass!" "Whut?" asked Mule. "Mebbe we should talk 'bout this over a few drinks," Bull suggested, figuring maybe once properly tanked up, Mule might have more to contribute to the situation. Besides, Bull wanted to go home too, and the moron twins would be easier to toss into the portal if they were out cold. Bull had a secret...he still had his mechanical intuition. As the only one with any sort of powers, he'd have a better chance of getting the others to follow him when they got back home. "B'fore we do anythin' so drastic as get pukin' drunk," Sally interrupted, "let's all have a show a' hands t' see who wants ta go home. All who wanna go home?" Sally raised her arm, causing her chest to shift in interesting manners that a text medium cannot properly convey and which caused the room temperature to shoot up five degrees despite liberal applications of Dr. Science's hormone blockers. Bull slowly raised his hand as well. Mule said...well, you know. "All, like, deposed or something?" Reaper asked, raising both hands. Hellhound followed suit. "Raight, three t' two, we're goin' home," Sally said smugly, crossing her arms in a manner calculated to enhance the percentage of her bosom visible through her zipped down top. "What? No way!" Reaper protested. "It was a tie!" Bull smirked. "Mule voted yes, idgit! He said 'Whut?' after the yes vote but not after the no vote. Ain't that right, Mule?" "Whut?" "See?" "This SUCKS!" Hellhound muttered. "How'm I supposed to score if I don't have any powers?" "Ya didn't score when ya DID have powers, dummy!" Bull retorted. "Oh yeah, that's right. Okay, let's go home," Hellhound assented. "Dumbass," Reaper mumbled. Skysabre stood back up. "Okay, now that that's been settled, I do have a few details to go over and a few warnings. First, I'm going to call the main LNHQ and get Errand Boy over here...we need to have someone who can unerringly find any traces of Robo technology DeFacto may have transmitted to your universe and wipe the files. His power should let him come back along the weak link between our realities when he's done. Next, you may not all arrive at exactly the same time or in the same place. You shouldn't be separated by more than a few days or a few hundred meters, but don't expect to all arrive together. Especially the Grangers...your affinity with the power may push you further along or drag you back, depending on if you lose more power in the process or absorb some back from the power crystal." Bull hid a smile. This should give them enough edge to escape before Team M.E.C.H.A. could arrest them. Skysabre continued, "Another thing to keep in mind is that there's no guarantee this leap will take you home. Plot devices are, if anything, more common here than in your home reality, and one at either end could force you off course. Finally, in case Errand Boy is unable to destroy all traces of DeFacto's tech for whatever reason, I'll be giving Dr. Science a set of disks carrying some technology that should help balance the scales against anyone who might find DeFacto's leavings. "Anyway, make any other preparations you want, it'll take at least a few hours for Errand Boy to get here, presuming a flight.thingy is available. If there isn't one, I'll have to go fetch him, which will probably push departure back until tomorrow." * * * * Dr. Zwarghoff watched as the various heroes and erstwhile villains said their goodbyes, shook hands, hugged and all the various trite and cliched things most people did upon parting. He'd never had too much use for such behavior himself. Of course, he'd never really made any kind of meaningful human contact. Between science and his deep-seated drive to prove he was superior, he had little time or inclination for friendships. Still, he would miss this place a little. And he would miss the company of his only true equal...the other version of himself. The other Dr. Zwarghoff had managed to slip out in the confusion after the final battle with the help of that toadying ATV Frank. Hopefully he wouldn't end up in jail too soon...it wasn't pleasant thinking that a version of one's self could end up in jail so easily when he had the service of a RoboMAC. Even a pathetic one like Frank. Dvandom Force hadn't turned him over to the local authorities, preferring to leave him to the justice of the reality to which he was about to travel. They had, however, fitted him with a tracking beacon so that if he arrived earlier or later than Team M.E.C.H.A. they could find him easily enough. Aha, the vortex had been formed, and everyone was forming up to try to enter as close together as possible. The closer they were on entry, the better their chances of arriving together. Team M.E.C.H.A. had formed Bahamode Sigma, so they were definitely going to get back all at once, ruling out any chance of ambushing them one by one. Not that Zwarghoff held any hope of taking on even a single M.E.C.H.A.n himself. Or planned to try. As soon as he entered the swirling, purplish mists of the dimensional gate, he lost sight of everything. He tried holding up his hand in front of his face, but couldn't see that either...light waves must not be able to travel normally in this interdimensional pseudoreality. Then vision came back, bright and glaring in the hot summer sun of southern Missouri. Shielding his eyes from the Sun, he looked around. Nothing. No one was present. He'd arrived alone. As quickly as someone who had spent the last several years in a relatively sedentary position could, he sprinted over to the collection of shacks which formed the Granger team's home base. He was in luck! Not only had he arrived alone, he had apparently arrived first! Inside the base was exactly how he hoped to find it. Computers, spare parts, half-completed mecha, all there for the taking. Of course, he had to be careful. Errand Boy would hunt him down to the ends of the Earth if he took too much. Acting as quickly as his excitement would let him, Zwarghoff got out blank disks and copied as much of the hard drive's memory as he could, then tucked the disks into his pocket. A few seconds with a cutting tool and he had the homing device off his wrist...a few seconds more and it had been destroyed, cut into a random assortment of pieces and tossed into the scrap pile. Gunning the engine on a ramshackle motorcycle, Zwarghoff raced off into the Missouri farm fields. He might not be able to elude capture for very long, but he only had to keep away until the way back was closed. After all, he wasn't wanted for any crimes in this reality...nor was the other Zwarghoff a felon in the Looniverse. All in all, a rather satisfactory exchange.... * * * * Errand Boy found sensation returning after the interdimensional trip. The first thing he was aware of was the oppressive summer heat, despite the shade of the awning he was under. The second thing was the sputtering sound of an unhealthy-sounding motorcycle wheezing in the distance. Probably just a local kid on the cycle he bought with Pizza Pit wages. If they had Pizza Pits here, of course. When he got his bearings, he could feel his power kicking in. The data he was looking for was inside this building...his power must have helped pull him closer to the spot, or something. Entering, he found a workshop in disarray and covered in a large amount of dust. Except...there were footprints in the dust. Carefully, he went over to the computer against one wall and put his hand to the casing. It was warm to the touch, warmer than even the sweltering heat in the unairconditioned room. He cursed to himself...someone had just been here, and probably took part of the stuff he was sent to get rid of. "Well, better just nail what I can. Skysabre didn't say I had to get all of it before I could come home, just as much as possible." And he could feel the faint tug of home, ready to snap him back along the tenuous connetion between here and there as soon as he finished his errand. After a moment or two of digging, Errand Boy found what looked like a rather large explosive charge with incendiaries attached to the sides. [The bomb they were going to use to wipe out Wayne's weed. - Ed] It looked pretty simple to use, probably because it had been built for those terminally thick Granger dipsticks. He read the instructions, printed on the side. "1) Push Button. 2) Run very far away. 3) Get behind cover." Seemed simple enough. If there was anything left, he could always come back and stomp on it or something. He pushed the button and ran like hell(TM). After a few seconds, he dove into a blast crater, probably formed during the fight that started this whole mess. He was nearly singed as the blast tore out from the shack, levelling everything in the area. Good thing all the local underbrush had been burned off by the stray shots of the battle, or this one might have started a serious fire. Errand Boy could feel it, the errand was basically over. Whatever had been taken away, it wasn't enough to oblige him to stay. So why wasn't he going home? Why couldn't he feel that tug anymore? And where was everybody else? [To be continued in future issues of Team M.E.C.H.A. and Stirge's new Errand Boy series, only on SUPERGUY (and maybe crossposted to RACC)!] * * * * The swirling mists settled back down into a steady whorl within seconds of the various visitors passing into it. "Well, time to shut the thing down, open some brews and kick back until the next big crossover," Sidewinder sighed, arching his back and stretching his arms out. Skysabre didn't shut the gate down. "Well?" Kat added. "Not quite yet," Skysabre said. "I've been giving this a lot of thought. I don't really belong here...this hasn't really been my home for nearly a decade. And with DeFacto gone, you don't really need me anyway. I'm going home." There were murmurs of shock and surprise. "But..." Kat started to protest. "No buts, Kat," 'Sabre interrupted. "There's still a whole world that needs to be put back together after the centuries of DeFacto's rule there. And there's a woman I love there as well, if she's still alive. I want you all to know I'd stay if I thought I was needed...even in this short time I've come to think of you all as friends. But I'm as much a visitor here as Team M.E.C.H.A. was, and I have another life to return to." He took off his helmet, and his eyes were bright with the beginning of tears. "I'm going home." No one said anything else as he adjusted the controls and stepped up to the vortex. With one last backwards glance at Kat, a look she read in an instant as meaning, "Maybe we could have been good together, but I'm sure you'll find someone else," he stepped into the mists and was gone. Then, with a brief sputter and a few sparks, the power crystal cracked and went dark. And Kat stepped out of the repair bay and into the winds on the roof to be alone. Squidman looked around. It seemed like he couldn't keep teammates. He looked into the faces of the others, hoping not to see any sign of wanting to leave there. In Kid Macro's face, thought, he found an expression of puzzlement. "Doug," Squidman asked Kid Macro, "what's wrong? You look confused or something?" "I...I think exposure to all that plot devicey energy just caused my origin to kick in...I remember my old past, with Lord Ebon banishing me and all that, but now I remember a new past too." Squidman relaxed. He could see the signs, the next few issues would be a solo spotlight recounting Kid Macro's newly-remembered origin. He knew *he* could use the rest. "Why don't you tell us about it?" he asked. * * * * The young man was getting out of breath. He was in great shape, but no taxi driver was insane enough to want to drive a man dressed in colorful garb into the net.hero part of town. So he'd been running the last two miles. But now he was there, the Dvandom Force building in downtown Sig.ago, center of net.hero activity in the Midwestern Loonited States. He was so distracted looking up at the odd lights at the top of the building that he almost ran into a woman and her hulking companion. "Whoa, watch where you're going," the woman admonished. "Sorry! Are you a member of Dvandom Force?" he asked. "Well, sort of. I quit, but I'm back to rejoin. You can call me Lynk, the big dumb guy with me is VAXX. And you are?" "Kid Pocky. There's a matter of life and death, you've got to..." he started, before being interrupted. "Sorry, Kid, but the next four issues are a solo spotlight. It'll have to wait. In the meantime, I think I can get us up into the Lobby, you can start filling out any forms they have...." ======================================================================== NEXT ISSUE: No more crossover! It's over! Gesphincto! Now it's time for a Mark Waid homage as we learn the origin of Kid Macro in a four-parter we just had to call, "BORN TO BE RUN!" Also, find out what happened to Team M.E.C.H.A. in the next dozen or so issues of their own title, coming Real Soon Now! IMPORTANT DISTRIBUTION NOTICE: With the crossover over, I will no longer be posting Dvandom Force to the Superguy list. If you don't currently read RACC and want to keep reading Dvandom Force, the issues will be put up on my homepage (http://pacific.mps.ohio-state.edu/~dvandom under the Writings link) soon after they are posted. Author's Notes: Well, it's over. A crossover that started over half a year ago, and was greeted with more than a little skepticism is over. And some of the skepticism is still there. }-> Of course, I'm not totally done with the LNH/Superguy idea, and Stranger Tales #7 will present the way things could have gone if Chris and I had decided to get a little more...drastic...in Dvandom Force #55. Be there for "Fusion," also known as Amalgam Done Seriously. I'd like to thank the following people for use of their characters and concepts over the course of this crossover: Chris Meadows, Mike Escutia, Lawrence Brown, Jesse Taylor, Mason Kramer, Stirge and the assorted weirdos I hang out with on the net every night, and you know who you are. Most of the other information was contained in the various and sundry footnotes scattered through the issue. Kat's subliminals power is nowhere near as strong as Mouse's, nor as useful in most situations, but she has been shown to have limited powers in that regard back in Constellation #30-31, Kid Macro's old origin. And so, I enter a new 12-issue mega-arc, wherein at least one of the following danglers will be wrapped up: Kid Macro's origin, Kid Pocky's origin, Acton Lord's Choice, Where the heck the Sig.Force got to, and why Kat wasn't killed by the MAC-Smasher. Maybe I'll wrap up all of them. Maybe I'll generate more than I wrap up...it's part of my charm.