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This work is © of Shaylinn and Gene Kelly 2006. Please do not archive without permission of creators.

PREVIOUSLY IN HELL ON EARTH...

The mysterious beings called the Horde have attacked the Earth, imprisoning the world's most powerful psychics and magicians in a machine called the Chaos Engine. Their leader, Samhain, has killed the only two beings he considers powerful enough to stop his plans: The Shadow King and the X-Men's founder Professor Charles Xavier. The ensuing psychic shockwave, heralded by the final death cry of Charles Xavier, rips open the barriers between dimensions and the Horde's demon army invades. While Neo-X and the few remaining superheroes struggle against the rising tide of darkness, an unsuspecting populace is swallowed in its wake.

Rubicon Station, 35,790 km above the Earth's surface in a geosynchronous orbit with North America:

"Sh'Kari, come away from there. We have studies to attend to."

Reluctantly I pull my gaze from the corridor window, away from the breathtaking expanse of space and the beautiful blue planet below. As I rejoin my instructor and the rest of the class I am met by a hushed chorus of giggles from the youngest hatchlings. Though I am the eldest of the Shi'ar students aboard Rubicon, I seem to be the most easily distracted by our stay here.

Some of my people would feel it beneath them to spend so much time amongst a "primitive" race like humanity. Such thinking is in some ways the very reason for the intergalactic exchange program. For my part, I could not be more excited. Every day here fills me with a newfound appreciation for mankind. They possess an infectious sense of curiosity and an appreciation for life that seems an innate part of their being. It is a far cry from the more rigorous traditions and disciplines of the Shi'ar Empire.

As we continue down the corridor and towards the staff offices, our instructor speaks. "...Mrs. Cooper has generously agreed to donate some of her time to talk with us on the subject of managing diversity within a group dynamic."

The doors open and close with a hydraulic swish. Commander Valerie Cooper stands on the far end of her sparsely decorated office, making some last minute adjustments to the computer console that will project her presentation to the class.

"Welcome, everyone," she says, turning towards us. Her smile is confident and kind. I find myself envying her, though unsure exactly why.

As she speaks, a holo-projection of the surrounding galaxy fills the air above our heads, a swirling display of light and color. "As you well know, the cosmos is filled with a diverse array of people and species. Can anyone here show me where their homeworld is?"

Some of the children roll their eyes while others quietly slide to the back of the group. I raise my hand.

Mrs. Cooper opens her mouth to speak, but in that instant something happens. Our minds, out very thoughts are assaulted by a horrendous shriek of pain and anguish. The hatchlings fall to their knees, while the older students clutch their ears. Even as our instructor and Mrs. Cooper stagger to our side, Rubicon's emergency claxon sounds.

One noise bleeds into the next, and for a moment I wonder if that "scream" was real or imagined. As Mrs. Cooper rushes from the room, what little doubt I have quickly vanishes. Her way is blocked by a line of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, dressed in combat armor and racing down the corridor as their commanding officer barks orders.

"Let's go, you yahoos! Move! Move!" shouts Nicholas Fury. The man is an imposing and respected figure, though I find his particular Earth dialect to be curious.

"Fury! What the hell was that?!" shouts Mrs. Cooper.

"Something huge is happening earth side, Val," says the hardened voice of Commander Fury, "We've got psychometric telemetry spikes across the board. And Sci-tech has already started to track several locus points of increased mystical energy."

"Locus points? Where?"

"Everywhere, Val," he says. "They're all over the world." And for a moment everything seems to stand still except for the ongoing cry of the claxon and the hammer beat of armored footfalls.

"I ain't gonna' lie, Val," Fury says. "It's going to be bad. We need you ta' get down to command ASAP."

"On my way," she says.

Mrs. Cooper gives our instructor a look, who nods in return, and then she is quickly gone. As we are ushered back to our quarters, the hatchlings crying all the way, I say a prayer to Sharra and K'ythri that they may watch over humanity. If Commander Fury and Mrs. Cooper are this scared, I am doubly so. I can only imagine what horrors humanity may be about to face and I am afraid that, even as I am just starting to know them, I will lose these amazing people that I would call friend.

* * * * *

Dearborn Grove Elementary School, The Pacific Northwest:

I always enjoy the beginning of my day in the solitude of the faculty offices. I tend to get to school at least 30 minutes before any of my fellow teachers, but I got here even earlier this morning so I could finish up the spelling test my fifth graders will be taking. I turn on my CD player and get ready for the day. With my headset on and the noise from the copier I'm in my own little world, until a sudden and terrible scream erupts in my ears.

I throw my headphones to the table, gasping as my heart races furiously. For a moment I convince myself that it was just some kind of electrical feedback, but my head stings and I can still hear... no, I still feel the after echo in my mind. I'm so rattled I don't hear Rachel calling from the doorway. And it isn't until she touches me on the shoulder, "Cecilia?" causing me to jump that I even realize I'm not alone. She startles me, but the look on her face truly frightens me. "Rach, what's just happened?"

She shakes her head in fear and confusion. "C'mon."

"Come where, Rachel? What's going on?" She doesn't say any more as she grips my wrist hard and pulls me down the hall to the teacher's lounge. It's one of the few places in the school that has a television hooked up to outside channels.

When we get there she points to the TV screen, "That's what's happened!"

It's on one of those cable news channels and they're showing live pictures of a massive red and black cloud looming over New York. Even knowing we're safe here on the opposite side of the country, the scene is frightening and surreal. As we watch, the clouds suddenly shatter, bathing Central Park and all of Manhattan in scarlet light. A cascade of dark forms, seemingly untouched by the light, drop from the torn sky onto the city below. The on-the-scene news reporter isn't saying anything. A few moments pass - moments that feel like forever. Then the camera jerks wildly, tilting down to the ground, focusing on a host of shapes darting in and out of the trees of Central Park. Then the figures burst forward like a dark swarm and the signal is lost in a hiss of static. But before it does, in those final horrifying seconds we see them, leathery wings and faces straight out of nightmare. The only word I can think to describe them, demons.

The teacher's lounge is deathly silent.

"Thank God it's not happening here," whispers David, one of the sixth grade teachers. I want to scream at him, but then the news report continues. David's wrong. It's not just happening in New York. That same horrific scene is taking place all over the country. They say those things are coming. It's just a matter of how soon.

I shudder and reach blindly for some place to sit down. I barely notice my fellow teachers as I sink slowly into the frayed embrace of the nearest couch. I know that whatever this is, whatever we were watching, will be one of those moments. A moment that partially resulted in me being here now - a fifth grade teacher.

Years ago, what started out as a normal September morning in Ms. Daniels' class at Emma Booker Elementary became something else entirely as my whole class watched the president being told of the attack on the Twin Towers. The whole world saw how he reacted that day but to those of us in her class it was how Ms. Daniels handled it, and us, that made her a true hero and a role model for me.

We're all still sitting here together when the first of the children begin arriving. I look around once before leaving my fellows behind still staring at the TV in disbelief.

Whatever those creatures were on the screen I know what I have to do. I have to be like Ms. Daniels and be there for my students. To answer their questions, calm their fears, to just listen to them. But how do I do that when I am so unsure and scared myself? How do I answer them when the monsters are real?

* * * * *

Rio de Janiero, Brazil:

I'm supposed to be watching my little sister but I can't resist the beautiful day and climb out the window of my room to the roof. The sky is so clear, the breeze warm and wonderful. Mama doesn't like me being up here but I love looking down the hill at the beach, hearing the samba. And if I turn around I can see Lord Christo on his mountain - Corcovado - looking down on us all. The turistas all want to go up to see Christo Redentor but I know the best view is from down here below, in the arms of his blessing. At least that is what Mama says, just like she tells me that I am blessed to be born in Rio de Janeiro. I do as Mama would want and say a prayer of thanks.

But in response my head is filled with screaming. The sound is so loud it hurts. I don't understand. Then I hear Gabriela's sudden crying and I start to crawl back to the window. Mama will be angry for sure and I do not want her to catch me. Just before I leave the roof I take one more look at the Lord Christo. What has happened? And where did those horrible clouds come from?

"Timo? Where are you? Can't you hear your sister crying?" Mama's voice. She sounds scared. Did she hear that too? I should go, but I can't take my eyes off the black and red clouds above the Christo.

"TIMOTEO! Up on the roof again and your baby sister alone in her bed! What would your father say? Can't I trust you..." She is standing in the street below my window but my back is turned to her. It has started raining, and something more than water is coming from the clouds. "Timo, look at me when I talk to you. What are you staring at?"

I just point to the clouds. "Mama, I'm scared."

"Mae do deus!"

There are winged monsters in the sky now and the clouds have swallowed the statue of Christo Redentor. The raindrops are starting to hit the roof here. I cannot move.

"Timoteo, come inside NOW!" Her voice breaks me free and I'm in the window. "Get your sister!"

Gabi is still crying in her crib but when I pick her up she quiets a little. Mama comes back from the kitchen holding a tiny bottle and Gabriela's baptismal cross. She puts the cross around Gabi's neck then holds up the tiny bottle. "Salt, Timo. Demons hate salt. Now where is your Rosary?"

"Here, Mama." I pull it from my pocket.

"Good," she takes it from me and drapes the loop around my neck. A loud crash and the rain gets much worse. Worse than I have ever seen it. We can't even see across the street. Mama looks at me, then out the window at the hillside above us. She puts on her own Rosary before taking Gabriela from me.

"Now pay attention, querido. We can't stay here. We're going to the church. Father Rafael will know what to do."

The only other thing Mama takes from the house is a tiny photo of Papa. Gabi starts crying again as the rain soaks us, but that small sound is nearly lost in the noise of groaning and creaking as the rain turns the hillside above us into goo. Mama has to give Gabriela back to me as we get closer to the church. The streets are filled with others who have seen the demons, and like us they are headed for the sanctuary of God.

The rain lets up a bit as we get farther down the hillside and as we turn the last corner onto the street where the church is I hear a scream.

Up the road a man and woman are running, and in the rain behind them are dozens of hazy shapes. With each step though, the shapes become larger and clearer. And then from out of the rain, the demons.

I am frozen again, watching the demons laugh, grabbing the woman and pulling her to the ground. The man gets a step farther before he's swallowed by the horde. I see one of the monsters open its mouth wide and bend over the fallen man before Mama grabs me.

"GO, TIMOTEO!" I nearly fall as Mama pushes me towards the church. "Go to Father Rafael."

I run. In the doorway of the chapel I turn. Mama is standing in the middle of the street with the tiny box of salt in her hand. I turn to Father Rafael to hand him my sister. "Take her, Pai. Mama needs me!"

He grabs my arm, "No, Timo. Your Mama needs you to watch over Gabriela." As I try to pull away Mama throws the salt at the demons. They laugh. And, as if triggered by their laughter, the hillside groans once more and lets go. Father Rafael pulls me inside the chapel, closing the door just before the liquid of the mudslide reaches us. "MAMA!!"

Handing Gabriela to Old Senhora Cardosa, Father Rafael pulls me into his arms. "It's in God's hands now. Come with me. We will pray."

Tears blur my vision as he leads me past the others in the church to kneel in the front row. Father Rafael is on one side of me and Senhora Cardosa is on the other with Gabriela. Father Rafael begins "Our father..." The rest of us join him, stranger and friend alike... "who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name..."

* * * * *

The suburbs north of St. Louis, Missouri:

"...forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen."

I'm headed to the kitchen for a soda when I hear the prayer and can't help wondering what's going on. I'm here at the Walsh's just about every afternoon doing homework with Zach and I've never heard Mrs. Walsh sounding like that. She's kneeling in front of the television but I can't see what's on the screen. I'm debating whether to go over and look when Zach's dad opens the front door. I didn't even hear him drive up. He walks in, sees Mrs. Walsh, and crouches next to her for a few moments before gently pulling her to her feet and steering her towards the couch.

"Joanna, honey. Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Oh, Aaron! They're coming and it's so horrible." She points a shaking finger towards the TV. "I saw them. HERE. In St. Louis!" When I get a chance to see the TV it's tuned to one of those 24-hour news channels, but it's just another report on the situation overseas in Genosha.

"Sweetheart, you know you haven't had a premonition since the Phalanx Attack. And the doctors said you wouldn't." He rubs her back as he talks. I start to sneak back towards the stairs as he reaches up to smooth her hair.

"DAMMIT, AARON! I know what I saw!" she screeches, batting his hand away.

The yelling brings Zach and his twin sister Izzy barreling down the stairs, Izzy in the lead. "Mom? Dad?"

"It's okay, Isabel. Your Mom's just not feeling well. Why don't you, Zachary, and James head back upstairs? We'll call and order a pizza later on."

Mrs. Walsh stands up, the anger plain in her expression, but before she can say anything I speak up. "It's okay, Mr. Walsh, I really should be going. I have to pick up my brother from my Grandma's house. He was sick today and Dad couldn't get the day off." I turn, "Zach, you and Izzy want to ride along?"

Zach looks at his parents, "That'd be cool. Izz?" she nods. "It cool with you Dad?"

"That's actually probably a good idea. Your mother and I need to talk. Make sure you're back before dinner time."

I head to Zach's room to pick up my book bag and Zach and Izzy grab jackets. Their dad's voice follows us up the stairs. "And don't forget your phones!"

"We won't," Zach and Izzy call back in unison. I shake my head. Twins. I'm a mutant. I can see and hear though the eyes and ears of animals, but their twin thing still freaks me out sometimes.

Mrs. Walsh doesn't look happy, but we're out the door before anyone can change their minds. I unlock the passenger side of the piece of junk I call a car when Isabel gives me a quick hug from behind. "Thanks for inviting me too, James. I hate listening to Mom and Dad fight."

"No prob, Izzy. I've been there. Hey, Zach?" He looks up as I toss him the keys. "You need all the practice you can get." He salutes me with one finger and we all laugh as he backs up and over the curb before straightening out and heading for my grandma's. Still, I'm kind of relieved traffic is fairly light when we pull onto the interstate.

The more I think about it the more what Mrs. Walsh said weirds me out. Finally I give in to the feeling and do something I normally wouldn't consider. I spy on Mr. and Mrs. Walsh.

I never did hear the full story on what happened to Mrs. Walsh during the Phalanx Attack four years ago. I know lots of people were pretty traumatized though. Alien invasions will do that. Luckily, my powers are doing just fine. I can see and hear through animals, and since I know Zach and Izzy's dog Bailey so well the distance shouldn't be a problem.

I make sure Zach remembers the way to my grandma's house, then close my eyes and watch the Walshes from the viewpoint of Bailey the beagle.

Mrs. Walsh is staring out the window, tears rolling down her face. Bailey is just close enough for me to understand what she's saying. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of death, I will fear no evil: For thou art with me..." As Mr. Walsh comes back into the room, Bailey turns his head and hops down from his perch on the back of the couch. I lose sight of them but can hear more clearly.

"Joanna, please come sit down and let's talk about this."

"There is nothing to talk about, Aaron. You've just sent our children out there. I told you not to let them go, that they would be in danger but you didn't listen to me! You always believed my visions before."

"The doctor said you wouldn't have any more."

"DOCTORS CAN BE WRONG! And maybe this vision didn't come from my gift. I was praying when I saw it. Maybe it came from GOD! Have you ever thought of that, mister agnostic?"

"Joanna--"

Suddenly my head explodes with pain, jolting me out of my contact with Bailey. Someone is screaming in my mind, crying out in agony. The Walsh's conversation is lost to me and the tires are screeching as Zach slams on the brakes. He and Izzy are feeling it too. Everyone ahead is breaking hard and I brace myself for an accident. Is this what Mrs. Walsh's vision was about?

A few minutes later everything is eerily quiet. Eventually the traffic begins to move again but I don't know what the hell just happened. It almost feels like that weird calm before a tornado. The anticipation of the funnel, where the world goes all still and the sky takes on a greenish-grey hue. This is similar. But then I realize the clouds aren't green, they're pink - with red lightning.

"I think we need to get off the road," Izzy says staring out the window, her breath fogging the cool glass. The clouds get darker as we continue south on I55, and before long the interstate is dim except for the angry red glow of taillights up ahead. Zach looks like he's getting a little squirrely looking for the next off ramp. As we get closer to the city, a giant crash of thunder and lightening backlights the Gateway Arch and scares us all silly. A huge cloud seems to hover just above the arch, wrapping around it like giant arms. A second crash of thunder - this one gently rocking the car - and the clouds crack open and a dark figure steps out onto the top of the Arch.

I rub my palm against the window for a clearer view. It looks like a woman, a purple winged woman! And in the clouds around her are countless shadows, moving every which way.

Suddenly I remember the TV report about Genosha. These clouds, this same thing was happening there too! Now I'm wishing I'd paid more attention to that damn report. I turn to Zach and Izzy. "Guys, did you see--?" But when I turn back, the woman's gone. Did I just imagine that?

"Zach, look out!" screams Izzy.

Suddenly, Zach hits the brakes and I slam my forehead on the dash. When I look up, a huge traffic accident is blocking the road. I count at least twenty cars just on this side of the median and the other direction's even worse with a semi and a car hauler involved on that side. Zach pulls off to the emergency lane to see if there's a way past the snarl but it's blocked by an overturned SUV.

Passengers are starting to get out of their cars and yell, everyone blaming the other for the wreck. I hear a screech from behind us and another car skids through the lane we had just occupied. It slams into the car in front of it with a resounding crash. Apiece of rubber door trim bounces off our side view mirror and Zach looks ill.

"Everyone's just yelling at each other. We should try and help her." Izzy says, pointing to the driver who was just rear-ended. Half her vehicle was a mangled mess.

"You're right, sis. Here, James." Zach turns off the car and tosses me the keys. "It doesn't look like we're going anywhere soon. Izzy, call Mom and Dad and let 'em know we're okay but we're gonna' be late."

It doesn't take Zach and I long to get the lady out of her car. A few quick pulls by the two of us and the door pops free. Fortunately the driver's just stunned. With a bit of help we get her over to my car and sit her down against the guardrail. People up the road are still honking and yelling at each other.

Isabel comes to meet us as we get the lady settled. "Zach, gimme your phone. Something's wrong with mine." She holds up her cell. No signal. Zach pulls his out and starts to toss it to her, but his has no signal either. A quick check of mine makes it unanimous. All of our phones are dead.

A flurry of curses gets our attention and we all look towards the pileup. Things are getting louder, and much worse. Punches are being thrown. We aren't safe. "Izzy, Zach, we need to get out of here."

We run for the exit ramp, Zach and I blocking a few stray punches and random objects thrown our way. What the hell is wrong with these people? I'm getting more pissed off by the second. Looks like Zach and Izzy are too, but then this is Zach's fault - we wouldn't be on foot if it wasn't for his terrible driving. Wait. That's not right, is it? It's almost like I can hear a voice in my mind egging me on, stirring me up. I'm about to smack Zach when I catch myself.

The off ramp takes us downtown and we quickly realize it isn't any safer down here than on the interstate. Cars are stopped in the middle of the street, strangers yelling at each other for no reason at all. Suddenly someone throws something through one of the storefront windows. From there things get really crazy.

More windows are shattered. Cars are overturned. It quickly, horrifyingly becomes a full-fledged riot. Izzy reaches down and picks up a rock. Before Zach or I can stop her she lobs it at some random person and we're swept up in the chaos. I have no idea how long we're caught up in the insanity - everything is noise and bodies - but I'll never forget the sound that snaps me out of it. A sickening thud and Isabel's scream. "ZACH!" I look down to see Isabel kneeling on the sidewalk, cradling her twin brother in her lap. His head's bleeding badly and a lump is quickly forming on his temple. The bloody rock that caused the damage is lying beside him.

"Oh my God, James, what are we going to do?" she asks, shouting over the sound of the angry screams around us.

I bend down and together we lift Zach to his feet before answering, "Survive." And I start praying for it to be true. But for a moment, I can swear I hear quiet laughter and I look up into the clouds again to see dozens of shadows swirling about as dark figures move above us - waiting.

* * * * *

Dearborn Grove Elementary School, The Pacific Northwest:

We make it to lunchtime when we finally realize that none of us - teachers or students -are really concentrating on schoolwork. Especially since a number of parents had already come and gotten their kids when they heard the news. I wonder where the other parents are. After lunch the principal decides to try and distract those of us still in class. Someone found an old Disney movie and the younger students are sent to the auditorium to watch it on the projection system. The fourth and fifth graders are given the option of going to the auditorium or the gym. About half stay to watch the movie. Only two of my students choose to stay, so after making sure Rachel would keep an eye on them I follow the rest of my class to the gym.

The kids are divided, most sitting in small groups in the bleachers, some playing basketball and a few clustered together with some of the teachers in the far corner. Someone has managed to find a television and hook it up to the outside feed and the group is avidly watching yet another news broadcast. The news anchor is standing in front of a wall of video monitors. Each monitor shows a different scene of destruction. I can just make out what looks like Jerusalem, Hagia Sophia, and the Vatican. The anchor explains, "It's been confirmed that the attack on New York was not an isolated incident. Around the world today the faithful awoke to scenes of horrific destruction. Numerous Mediterrean and Middle Eastern religious sites have been severely damaged or destroyed. As you can see from these images the domes of both Hagia Sophia and the Vatican have collapsed and the four minarets of Hagia Sophia were toppled as well. There is also significant damage to the Temple on the Mount in Jerusalem and al-Haram, the great mosque in Mecca. This destruction of religious sites has some of the more extreme religious groups suggesting this could be the end of the world or punishment for a corrupt and sinful world. Many radical religious and political groups are also using this to justify resuming hostilities with old enemies..."

I slip between the students and turn the TV off. "Enough of that for now. It isn't going to help any of us to watch any more of that and nothing has happened here, so we should be thankful for that and maybe say a prayer for everyone in New York and the other places that have been attacked."

"Ms. Emerson?"

I turn to see one of my students, "Yes Robin?"

"Ms. Emerson, my parents are in New York. On business. I've tried calling, but they don't answer."

Oh, how do I answer this? I take her hand as my mind races through the possible things I can say. "They may not be getting the call. There have been a lot of problems with the phones."

"You think?"

"We can hope, sweetie." I give her hand a reassuring squeeze, then I notice one of my other students over near the locker room, pacing back and forth.

"Seth, what's wrong?"

"This sucks, Ms. Emerson. This sucks just waiting here. It doesn't... feel right," he says. "No one's talking about it but I can tell. Those things are going to come here too, aren't they?"

How did he know that? "Now, Seth. We don't know if--"

His next words come out as a scream. "Daniella! The movie. Something's wrong!"

I try to grab Seth but he's too quick for me as he snatches a bat and heads for the doors. For a moment I don't understand, but then I remember. His cousin is a second grader in Rachel's class. She's in the auditorium. I grab a bat as I yell to the other teachers, "Something happening in the auditorium. You have to get these kids out of here!" I hit the door hard, nearly breaking my wrist on the stiff release bar, and tear down the hall after Seth. I catch up to him just as we get to the auditorium and we go through the doors together. There's a hole in the roof overhead and I can just see two shadowy fingers taking wing against a darkening sky. We're too late.

It's a scene right out of a horror movie. Bloody bodies tossed with abandon, the dead and the dying heaped indiscriminately. Two of them? There were only two and they did all this? I try to shield Seth from the horror of that room - even as I feel like wretching myself - but he pulls away from me, walking in to look for his cousin. We find Daniella and Rachel together near the stage. "Seth, I'm sorry. There's nothing more we can do for them."

He sets down the bat long enough to hug the body of his cousin before answering me. "No, Ms. Emerson, that's not true. We can find the things that did this to them and make them pay."

In the distance I hear sirens, the kind the county uses for emergencies and natural disasters. Only I know it's not a tornado that's coming. The sky outside is growing dark and sickly red. Those two were just the beginning.

* * * * *

The South Bronx, New York:

It's always warmer in the subways. Chilly days in the fall ain't so chilly down here. Even the steps are warm. The concrete. Probably the trains generatin' all that heat. Probably all the people moving about too. Me, I got nowhere I need to be. Nowhere to go. And there's always people here.

I ask 'em for change as they pass. Spare a dollar. Spare a dime. Most of 'em don't look at me though. Even the nicer ones smile but don't meet my eyes too often. Maybe too embarrassed, I don' know. Once in a while a nice couple or a college kid'll give me something. Some even talk with me for a couple minutes. It's nice. But most just want to pretend I ain't here, while others, others you can just see the disgust in their eyes. Mr. Businessman with his polished shoes and eighty-dollar hair cut. Like my very existence gone and spoiled his day. He doesn't know what's it like. He ain't gone days without eating. Ain't had the crap kicked out of him by some white boys who don't like the way he smells. Ain't like I chose this. Ain't out of work on purpose, you know.

'Course people got a different perspective on things now. Ever since that day. The day the sky broke. Sure there were crazy things in the city before. I once saw a superhero hit by a subway car, then jus' get up and brush herself off like it ain't nothing. That ain't like this though. Ain't nothing was like this. The sky broke. The sky broke and it was raining monsters.

The trains ain't running anymore, so we make our way through the tunnels, hiding as best we can. All kinds of folk. Entire families, or just what's left of them. The parents are tryin' to keep their kids safe. The businessmen ain't got no businesses to go back to anymore. We got a member of the National Guard down here too. Last of her unit. Despite everything, she still seems like a kind woman. All of us are together now, just trying to stay alive. I figure we'd have been dead days ago if we wasn't on the move all the time. I've seen what happens if the monsters get you. I've seen the bodies, what's left of them. Guess we should feel lucky.

But where we gonna' be if this don't change? People gonna' be raising their kids on the run, in the subways and the trash? If someone don't put this right, how we gonna' get by? Even if we manage to keep on livin', Lord knows this ain't no kind of life.

* * * * *

Somewhere on the outskirts of the Vatican:

We were always taught Hell was underneath us, that the devil's minions come from below. But it turns out we were wrong. They came from above. My wife and I were newlyweds, chaste until our wedding day. Devout and blessed to be starting a new life together. We honeymooned in Rome and traveled to see the Vatican. It was the most wondrous day of our young lives. That's when the sky was torn asunder and the devil made manifest his legions on Earth.

Now my wife is gone and all I'm left with is my prayers and my fear. A fear that shames me. A fear that a man stronger in his faith would not possess. Forgive me, Father. I'm afraid. I'm so very afraid. Where are your soldiers? Where are the people who are supposed to save us?

* * * * *

Washington D.C., The United States of America:

Far beneath the White House lies a specially constructed bunker intended for the safety and survival of the leader of the United States and members of his staff. For an emergency command center it is luxuriously furnished and surprisingly comfortable, but to be honest I hoped I would never have to use it. Much like the Oval Office, the presidential seal adorns the floor beneath my desk and the American flag hangs proudly at my back. It's an inspiring sight, and there's rarely a day that goes by that I'm not humbled by my position as President. As I switch off the holo-viewer at my desk however, my thoughts are most un-Presidential.

"That vile little shit! That pampered bastard wouldn't have lasted a week in Harlem!"

A moment ago I was given an ultimatum by Roberto DaCosta Jr. Most know him as an industrialist and humanitarian. But he's also a member of the Hellfire Club, and one of the most ambitious and unscrupulous men on the planet. DaCosta has a reserve force of seven hundred Sentinels at his disposal. Seven hundred! Good Lord. The entire planet is under siege and that bastard won't lift a finger to help - not unless I guarantee him the Presidency next term.

It's a sick joke. Four years ago, the U.S. government had its own Sentinels. During the Phalanx attack they were used to keep order while the nation was under a temporary state of martial law. In the time since, the program was disbanded. Due in large part to mutant rights groups and other political factions - factions DaCosta is known to have ties with. At the time I agreed whole heartedly with the decision, but in hindsight... How long has he been planning this?

My com-screen feeds me the latest reports, the riots in the streets, the latest death tolls. It's not enough that a legion of demons wants to destroy us all, but now the people are turning on each other. Worse still, there's been no word from my wife since this madness began, and here I sit, safe in my bunker. Being the most powerful man in the free world has never made me feel so helpless.

"Damnit all!" I scream, slamming my fists against the desk.

My personal body guard, Andrew Davis of the Secret Service, is startled by the outburst as he enters the room. "President Wilson?!"

"Andrew." I stand at his arrival, eager to hear his report. "My family...?"

"Your wife and kids are safe and on their way here right now, sir."

My shoulders sag in relief. "Thank God."

"Do you know how long we've been waiting for a black President, sir?" Andrew laughs. "I'll die before I let those demons get near you or your family."

His Sig Sauer P229 sits in his shoulder holster beneath his suit coat. I don't doubt him for a second. Andrew's a good man. I pray it doesn't come to that.

"I don't have any doubts about you or your men, Andrew," I say, smiling even as I try to mask the sadness in my voice. No, the President will be safe in his ivory tower. All these lives, these sacrifices, is it all just a stopgap? Am I that much better than DaCosta, sitting here while people die?

"We've also received the latest round of casualty reports. It's not good."

"I know," I reply, sinking back into my chair. I think about DaCosta's proposition and something hot writhes in the pit of my stomach.

"Sir, even now Commander Fury is mobilizing S.H.I.E.L.D. agents both earth side and on Rubicon station. The second the demon's made their presence known the Commander was on top of things."

"Of course he was. And Captain Spartan's unit?"

"We've been unable to contact the Elite. Out last communiqué placed them on the other side of the world."

"Damnit."

Where've all the heroes gone? We lost the Avengers and the Fantastic Four years ago. Now we're left with a handful of unorganized mutants and well-meaning youths. Where did it all go wrong?

"Andrew," I say "the other matter I asked you to look into?"

"As you know, when President Rogers stepped down from office he declined continued Secret Service protection, as is his right. Well...we tried keeping tabs on him anyway, per your orders, but..."

"But even at 106, the man is still Captain America," I say, a knowing but disappointed smile on my face. "Of course. He couldn't be followed if he didn't want to be. I just wish I knew what he was up to."

In truth, I miss him dearly. Over the years we were more than just allies, we were close friends. I think of our time together as Avengers and I can't stop myself from thinking that he would be handling this better if he were still here. But no, Cap never had to sit and wait for his team to return from missions. He fought with them side by side. Just like I wish I could be doing now. Instead I'm looked upon to make choices no human being should have to make.

"I need a team to hunt down DaCosta's launch silos."

As far as I'm concerned, Roberto DaCosta Jr. just declared war on the United States himself. And he's going to answer for this. But first, we have a nation to save.

"Hell on Earth" continues in Neo-X #50

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