***

The Gulf of Mexico:

The two airborne Avengers known as Binary and Quasar faced the near-impossible task of battling Klaw, Man-Killer, Cyclone, Flying Tiger, and Tiger Shark--the new Masters of Evil--and, not so unbelievably, they were close to defeat. But surrender, submission--they never entered into the two warriors' minds, for they had James Rhodes' tanker to protect--even more, they had a name to uphold--that of the Avengers.

"If we can split 'em up--" Binary suggested as she dodged a diving Tiger Shark, "--you take the two flyers, I'll take the three on the ground--I think we'll have a better chance."

"Good plan," Quasar replied, setting his sights on Klaw, Man-Killer, and Tiger Shark. "But it would sure be nice to have another body to help us out."

Binary slammed a fist into Flying Tiger's midsection. "Who? You mean Jim? He's probably ducking for cover right now, regretting ever loaning us his tanker as our new base!"

Quasar shot a golden blast of quantum energy at Klaw, which the scarlet villain effortlessly countered with his own sonic blaster. "No, I mean one of the Avengers--seeing as how they're back in OUR world, according to that radio report!*"
(*see last issue--Sam)

"Quasar, we ARE the Avengers," Binary replied, soaring through a gust of swirling wind erected by Cyclone with a blast of energy from her weakening white-hole source.

And the battle raged on.

***

New York City, Four Freedoms Plaza:

"YOU?!" Baron Zemo shrieked upon seeing the wavy red cloak of the hooded nemesis he knew as the Crimson Cowl* standing in his otherwise vacant weapons chamber. "What the blazes are YOU doing HERE...and NOW of all times?!"
(*from THUNDERBOLTS #3--Sam)

The Cowl failed to answer. Instead, she asked a question of her own. "Where is the rest of your band of insidious villains?"

"No doubt still scurrying from the public's outrage at learning that the Thunderbolts were really the Masters of Evil, led by me!*" he replied, even now a sense of pride evident in his raspy voice.
(*it happened in THUNDERBOLTS #10--Sam)

The blank eyes beneath the Cowl's red hood widened with shock. "You've...you've let out your own secret?! NO!!!" Her flowing cloak sliced the air behind her and undraped itself from her body as she leapt toward Zemo, tackling him, then slamming a fist across his masked face. "All those people--betrayed!" she cried with regret.

>From beneath the Cowl's raging, unmasked body, Zemo stared at this woman, whose beauty even HE had to appreciate. And then, he recognized her--the long, soft face, the drifting raven hair.

"Touché! I should have known! You're the young Avenger," he gasped. "The one called Limbo. There IS no Crimson Cowl!"

The young woman's dark eyes turned to slits. "I AM the Crimson Cowl! And I will be your death!"

CH-BANG!

Her ramming fist was redirected by a pain in her stomach, as red flowed behind her once again--this time, the red of her own blood. Her hands immediately grasped at the source of her pain, and they were quickly made red as well. And then, the gleam of a pistol caught her startled eyes.

Zemo waved the firearm in front of her mockingly. "Tsk tsk, Cowl. You're good, but I am much, much better." He shoved her shivering form from on top of him and onto the ground of the chamber, and rose proudly, dusting off his purple outfit. "Your corpse will make an excellent trophy for me--but an even better one for that pathetic disgrace of an Avenger, the Black Widow--a constant reminder that the might of Zemo can never, EVER be matched."

"I can...still beat you," Crimson Cowl muttered determinedly as she lay in a widening pool of her own blood, pouring from both her stomach and her backside. "If not me, then my allies...."

"Your allies? The Avengers? Ha!"

She shook her head, slowly, weakly. "No. Like you...have, the Avengers have betrayed me--they are...as much my enemy...as you."

Zemo clicked his tongue. "A shame to kill a girl with such an inviting attitude."

Just then, the doors across the room hissed open, and the bulky, metallic form of Techno emerged, confusion apparent on his glistening face. "Zemo? What's happened?"

"I'll explain momentarily. For now, help me dispose of this whelp--and quickly, before the other Thunderbolts regroup here. Though as of fifteen minutes ago, they no longer pose as heroes, I sense they are already too close to defection--we need not offer them this girl as a martyr to their potential cause."

All the while, Crimson Cowl could only murmur the same dogged words: "I can still...beat you."

***

Meanwhile:

Natasha Romanoff--Black Widow--having arrived in New York via Jim Rhodes' bi-plane, had set the plane down in a more remote location of the city and made her way to Four Freedoms Plaza on foot.

Now, as she peered up at the high-rise building from her spot on the ground--just one of hundreds of on-lookers who had come knowing that if the now-fugitive Thunderbolts would show up anywhere, it would be here--she thought on all the history this famed building had been a part of as home to the recently-returned Fantastic Four. How much history would be made here today? How much of it tragic?

None, if she could help it.

She nudged her way out of the swarm of police and citizens posted around the front entrance of the building, and walked briskly to the outskirts of the herd, searching for a path into the Plaza that, somehow, none of the authorities knew about. As she eased out of the last remnants of the mass of people, her shoulder caught that of another woman standing dejectedly among the crowd. When Natasha turned to apologize, she recognized the woman--her shoulder-length red hair, her glasses.

"Excuse me, are you Miss Riordan? From the Mayor's office?"

The woman's eyes shot up from the ground, startled. "Um...yes, yes I am. Dallas Riordan."

"I thought I recognized you from a few meetings...back in my Avengers days."

Riordan gazed up and down Natasha's dark costumed body. "You're the Black Widow. What are you doing here?" she asked, and then quickly, regretfully, answered her own question. "Oh," she said, waving a hand up at Four Freedoms Plaza. "That's why."

"What's the situation," Natasha asked.

Riordan gave a sigh. "Believe it or not, the Thunderbolts have been revealed as the...Masters of Evil. Now Atl--now they are loose in the city, but it is believed Baron Zemo--formerly known as Citizen V--and possibly a few of the others have returned here, to Four Freedoms Plaza."

Black Widow cocked an eyebrow at Riordan's apparent unease. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's just...it's just, we've thought for months that the Masters of Evil were back--under the leadership of the Crimson Cowl." Dallas lowered a mournful head. "Turns out--the REAL Masters were right under our noses the whole time."

Black Widow felt for the young woman, for she sensed that there was something more to her disheartened words that she was not revealing. If only Riordan could feel useful somehow--not so helpless--

"Miss Riordan, the city needs you, now. The people need you. I've got to get into the building. Is there any chance of that happening?"

Riordan shook her head. "The Mayor and the Chief of police don't want anyone going in there for fear of booby traps and sneak attacks."

Natasha bit her lip out of frustration...

...but Riordan continued. "However, I do know of a more secret entrance into the building. And...I suppose I can trust--" Reminders of the Thunderbolts' deception must have poured into Riordan's mind, for she stopped abruptly.

Natasha set two gentle hands on Riordan' shoulders and stared intently into her mirrored eyes. "You CAN trust me, Miss Riordan. You can."

After a silence between the two, where the clamor of the anxious crowd around them crept in, Riordan replied, "I...I've got to do SOMETHING to keep myself from going mad over this." She took Widow by the arm and led her into the shadows of the high-rise.

Once in the relatively barren section outside of Four Freedoms Plaza, Riordan and Black Widow approached a rusted, yellow fire hydrant.

Riordan knelt down to twist the nozzle cover from the hydrant, but Black Widow intervened.

"Please," she said, "allow me."

Riordan waved her away as she twisted, straining. "Naw...I used to be a cop. I'm not afraid to get a little...dirty." Finally, the nozzle top spun off, but instead of water shooting from the nozzle, a sudden, powerful hiss of air blew scraps of litter from their place on the street.

"It's letting out pressure," Riordan said. "There are a couple of these things around the city, actually--they're supposed to be secret. I guess it goes to show that not ALL secrets are bad--" Again, Natasha noted that Riordan's thoughts were preoccupied with the Thunderbolts.

"There, that's a good attitude," she replied.

"--just most," Riordan finished coldly as she pushed the depressurized hydrant up, and with it, the slab of artificial concrete in which it was embedded, revealing a stairway that led directly into the darkened basement of the Plaza.

Impressed, Natasha stepped down, but was held back by Riordan's cautious hand.

"I'd certainly help if you need--"

"No," Black Widow replied, easing the poor woman's hand from her arm. "I've said it before--a Widow works best alone. I'll do what I must--you do what you must."

Somewhat disappointed, Riordan gave a curt nod and saw Black Widow down the stairway, where the Avenger was lost to the darkness.

Black Widow eased her way through the basement and up to the first floor, cautious of the security devices in the complex. When she encountered none, she realized that the advanced security system must not have detected her intrusion due to the fact that she had entered from the basement.

Hopefully as much luck would follow, she mused as she neared Zemo's chambers higher up in the building--with any luck at all, the Thunderbolts would still be loose in the city, and Zemo would be the only Master present.

As the sliding doors heralded her arrival at the chambers, she noted that, indeed, luck was on her side. But the red streak of blood that stretched across the metal chamber floors told her that the same did not hold true for someone else.

And then, to her dismay, she discovered who.

"Beth!" she gasped as her widened eyes met the dim gaze of former Avenger Bethany Hallsworth--once known as Limbo, now calling herself the Crimson Cowl--clapped up in an imposing, metal contraption, her arms spread, locked tightly in place by two half-capsules, her feet in the same position, hovering stiffly two meters over the floor. However, this did not startle Natasha so much as the stream of blood that flowed from the red mess of her stomach. Beth's once soft-red bodysuit was now as crimson as the cloak she once wore proudly--and that cloak, it lay lifelessly on the ground across from its owner.

If the ailing Beth was going to acknowledge Natasha's sudden presence, she was beaten to it by the scratchy voice of Baron Zemo, as he stepped from behind a console across the room, followed by a large, robotic form that must have somehow been inhabited by the Fixer.

"I should have known it would not be long until you came to capture your monster, Widow," Zemo grinned beneath his mask as he pulled his pistol from his side. "Fortunate, for as I understand it--though the girl will not admit she is parting with this life--her dying wish is for YOUR death!" He held the pistol an arm's length away, pointed at Natasha. "I do aim to please."

***

The Avengers' tanker:

Quasar pulled himself free of the grasps of two of Klaw's human-shaped solid sound constructs, and formed a thin saber with his quantum bands, cutting the two beasts down with one sharp swipe.

"I've looked forward to getting my hands on you, Klaw," Quasar said as he lifted into the air and over a solid sound tank. "after you laid your sick hands on my Beth back in Central Park!*"
(*see #146--Sam)

"YOUR Beth?" Klaw replied, then gave a satisfied grin. "Why, my dear Marvel Boy, YOUR Beth hired me and the rest of the Masters here to take you down. It seems YOUR Beth doesn't have a very high regard for you!"

"How dare you...!" Quasar furiously shot bolts of quantum energy down upon Klaw.

Meanwhile, high above that battle, Binary was engaged in her own dogfight with Flying Tiger and Cyclone.

"Less-than-gentlemen, this two-on-one combat is getting us nowhere," she grunted through given and received punches alike.

"Eet eez working fine for us!" the Frenchman Cyclone replied as he weaved a path through the air and around Binary and Flying Tiger and shoved a fist into her back.

"Ungh!" Fed up, Binary resorted to the only plan she could think of. "Come along, boys. Let me take you on a little tour of our humble abode." As she escaped her foes' incessant attack long enough to gain a clear path back down to the tanker, she streaked through the air and broke through the top deck and into the innards of the old vessel.

"Sorry about that, Jim," she muttered under her breath upon reaching one of the many winding, cluttered corridors within the tanker.

Sure enough, Cyclone and Flying Tiger followed her in.

Despite their overpowering numbers, she had an advantage: after many nights of drunken wanderings through the creaky old tanker, Binary had gained quite a knowledge of the different trails through the many decks of the old tub--all she had to do was force herself to recall those groggy memories--hopefully, she would not need Professor Charles Xavier's help for THIS particular recollection.

Around corners and down straight-aways, she led the two Masters through nearly the whole of the ship, taking every turn she could--

--and, at last, it paid off.

KPOWWW!!!

The impact of Flying Tiger careening clumsily into one of the walls of the corridor at a high velocity reverberated through the entire deck.

"One down," Binary smiled to herself as she continued to let the stale air of the interior blow her blonde streaks behind her.

"Bravo, Avenger!" Cyclone mocked as he continued to trail Binary. "But you will find that I am tres agile, and not so absent-minded as my striped friend!"

"I never doubted that, Pepe," Binary replied as she veered around another corner, then down to the next deck. "And while you're nowhere near as strong as me--weak as I am--you can only hope your swimming skills match those of your OTHER Tiger friend!"

With that, she took a deep breath, rammed two fists through the desired bulkhead, and quickly escaped through the hole created as a flood of salty ocean water flooded into the dank quarters, the rush of the water capturing Cyclone before he could follow Binary through the only available exit.

And, underwater, as Binary kicked her legs to the surface, she noted, "I definitely owe Jim a drink for this!"

Meanwhile, back on the top deck, Klaw had worked Quasar to the railing between the top deck and the ocean dozens of feet below--and Quasar knew it--

--knew it, but did not care. Klaw would pay for ever hurting Beth.

"How far are you willing to go for a love lost?" Klaw asked tauntingly as he shot heart-shaped pulses of solid sound from his sonic blaster.

Quasar merely seethed and extinguished each ridiculous piece of energy.

"This far?" Klaw asked as he suddenly crawled up the railing, then leapt down, diving toward the ocean. And then, with a wave of energy from his blaster, he created a platform that held him only feet above the ocean.

Without fear or hesitation, Quasar soared down to meet the villain on the solid sound platform.

"You ARE a brave one, Marvel Boy."

"I can fly, Klaw," Quasar replied. "Or have you forgotten that fact?"

"No, I'm perfectly aware--but even the Protector of the Universe can be taken by surprise!"

Suddenly, Klaw stopped the flow of sonic energy to the platform they both shared--!

--but only Klaw himself felt several feet below into the water.

Quasar smiled proudly from above, on his own quantum energy platform, as he looked down at his floating foe. "You hoped to trap me in the water and encase some sort of field over me, correct? Well, it looks like YOU'RE the one who was deceived this time!"

The disappointment in Klaw's inhuman face gave way when his thin eyes brightened with sinister gratification--

--and Quasar turned to the sight of Man-Killer, who had sprung down from the tanker, and now bounded menacingly toward him through the air, looking to live up to her name.

Quasar gasped, and just as he could smell Man-Killer's husky scent, a sudden HISSSS! collapsed the feral female onto the golden platform at Quasar's feet.

Again, Quasar turned, this time to a comparatively pleasant surprise.

"Iron Man!" he exclaimed as his eyes grew bright upon gazing above him at the golden armor of his fellow Avenger. "You're back!"

"Not really, no," was the reply from the hovering suit. Iron Man flipped his glistening face mask up, revealing the familiar grin of Jim Rhodes.

"Well! That's a surprise," came the approaching voice of a soaking Binary.

"After all that's happened lately," Rhodes said, "shouldn't you realize that things--and people--are rarely what they appear to be?!"

Quasar and Binary simultaneously smiled at Jim's assured observation.

He continued. "This is just one of the old suits that were lying around the Stark-Fujikawa facilities, unused. When I left there, I decided to take a little momento with me--without their knowledge, of course," he smiled slyly.

Klaw's grating voice interjected, "Well done, Avengers! But with or without the Crimson Cowl, the Masters of Evil shall return! I promise you this!" With that, he was pulled into the water by Tiger Shark, while Flying Tiger retrieved Man-Killer and soared away alongside Cyclone.

Quasar looked to Binary. "On that note, I think we should get to New York to help Natasha out."

"Right," Binary nodded, "but first, come with me to the bottom deck of the tanker, Quasar--you can use your quantum bands to patch a little leak down there."

"A WHAT?!" Rhodes replied.

"What? I said a LITTLE leak!" Binary blushed.

***

Manhattan:

The sound of Techno's metal fingers clicking against various commands on the consoles in the Four Freedoms Plaza chamber was rivaled only by Zemo's devious prattle as he held Black Widow at gunpoint.

"Don't think to make a move to save your former ally, Widow," he warned, pointing to Beth, who was heavily restrained across the room. "Techno can have Crimson Cowl vaporized in that device in a split second upon my command--no trace of her will ever exist for anyone to find."

Painful as it was, Natasha was forced to admit to herself that Beth was only in this predicament because she had put her there; she was the one to recruit Beth in the first place; she was the one to reveal to Beth the truth behind the Thunderbolts' agenda; she was the one to set in Beth's mind the idea--the tainted idea--of what the Avengers were; and she was the one to light the fuse that now set her on this explosive path for redemption and vindication against Zemo and his Thunderbolts--the very same path Widow herself had just recently abandoned.

Yes, Natasha had accumulated the responsibility for a lot of tragedy in her time, but none so directly as that of Bethany Hallsworth: innocent turned villain.

She had to be saved--and no one could save her but Natasha.

"You may as well let us go, Zemo," she said. "After all, the Avengers are alive, your game is up, and we have nothing that you want."

Zemo waved the gun contradictorily. "Ah ah. I would have the Cowl killed by now--I would have YOU killed by now--but I would rather you die together, to see in your final moments what you have truly lost as a result of EACH OTHER." He looked tauntingly across the chamber at the quickly-fading Beth, "You, who wanted nothing less than revenge," and then, back to Black Widow, "and you, who wanted nothing more than justice." He grinned proudly. "And then there is I, who--with your deaths--will be rid of a nuisance that should have been exterminated long ago--you so-called 'Avengers'."

Techno's robotic voice called out from behind a console, "The explosives are set, Zemo."

"All of them?"

"Of course."

"Good, then let us await the remaining Masters' arrival downstairs."

As Zemo followed Techno out of the chamber, he looked back at Widow confidently. "I'll not even seal the door behind me, for I know you won't try to escape--not as long as you, in all your weak-willed compassion, can still save your fallen heir, Widow."

With that, he stepped calmly out of the room, holstering his pistol.

And, curse Zemo, he was right, Natasha thought. She wanted nothing more than to, at last, put an end to his reign of terror against the world--but as long as Beth remained locked in place, bleeding to death, she would have to rely on the heroes returned--thank goodness--to stop Zemo while she saved Beth, and diffused the bombs Techno had apparently set.

Black Widow rushed across the chamber and punched a key on the console next to her, with a hiss, releasing the mechanical restraints that had held Beth. The young woman's bleeding body crumbled near-lifelessly forward, held up by the Widow.

Natasha drug Beth across the chamber and to the console that Techno had earlier been manipulating.

She gasped at the various commands she saw that Techno had placed in the computer.

"My word! Zemo has bombs rigged here in the Plaza...at Avengers Mansion...at Times Square--all over the city! Apparently they will detonate on his command--and that could come at any time! But why would he do this?"

Immediately, she began work diffusing the explosives from the console. While she had never claimed to be a computer expert, she knew her way around the equipment well enough--it would have to be well enough, for she did not have time to summon Reed Richards or Anthony Stark!

"It's his sick way...of saying goodbye..." Beth gurgled from her seated position on the floor.

"Goodbye? What do you mean?" Natasha asked as she shut down two of the bombs.

"He told me...earlier...that he has a plan...to launch himself and...the other Thun--Masters...of Evil into space while he...takes over the world with what he...called a bio-modem."

"Sick coward!" Natasha cursed. Two more diffused.

"At least...we agree on...something...." Beth replied. "That hasn't happened...in a while. What made you...change...Widow?"

Natasha continued to work furiously as she answered the question. "A lot of things, you could say. After months and months of pain, I finally managed to see all the hurt I had caused the Avengers--all that I had done to Herc and Carol and Wendell...and you--all because of an overzealous sense of justice. After the Onslaught, I felt like the legacy of the Avengers had fallen on MY shoulders, and when I discovered Zemo's threat to that legacy of justice, I reacted--I suppose I overreacted. It took me a long time to realize that--" she looked down with regret at the dying Beth, "--TOO long. But I suppose...I suppose I forced MYSELF to change--to be better."

Three more diffused--Natasha's eyes lit up.

"I've got all the bombs diffused, Beth--except for the one here in the building."

Beth rose determinedly, to Natasha's surprise.

"Can you...detonate it from here?" Beth asked.

"Of course, but...why?" Natasha replied. And then, the firm, dark look in Beth's eyes gave her the answer. "No, Beth. I'm not going to do it."

"You must...Widow. Destroying Four Freedoms Plaza while Zemo...is still here...is the only way to defeat him...once and for all...before he can escape to outer space!"

Natasha shook her head. "No, I--"

"Curse you, Widow! Are you afraid...to sacrifice your life...in the explosion? Is that what...kept you out of the battle...against the Onslaught all those months ago? Just do it--I can teleport us fr--"

Natasha turned and pointed an accusing finger at the young woman. "You're way off base! I won't destroy this building because there is still a chance that the Thunderbolts will revolt! I've planted the seeds for that revolution, and I won't see it die simply because you want to take on the world--I've gone that route, Beth--IT WILL NOT WORK!"

Beth closed her eyes despondently, and for the briefest of moments, Natasha thought she had gotten through to her.

And then, "I'm just doing...what the Black Widow would want."

"What?" Natasha replied, baffled. "This isn't what I want, Beth."

Without warning, Beth shot a hand up at Natasha, striking her face with an open fist. "Not YOU, fool!" She gathered her strength and kicked Natasha in the stomach--the Widow doubled over and fell to the ground. "You're soft! I mean the TRUE Widow! The STRONG Widow, willing to do anything for justice, for the people, so they will never be betrayed or deceived again!"

Natasha struggled to rise to her feet--the last explosive was still set, and she had to diffuse it--but Beth kicked her back to the ground with every opportunity.

"That's not me," Natasha wheezed. "THIS is me--THIS is who the people need."

Beth put a fierce foot in Natasha's lip.

"'This'? 'This' is just like every other 'hero', unwilling to do what is necessary--ultimately leaving me open to betrayal again and again--like YOU betrayed me!"

Another of Beth's raging legs sliced the air, but Natasha flipped backward in time to dodge it.

"You betrayed YOURSELF, Bethany--" Natasha replied as she planted a desperate foot in the woman's chest. "--when you let your eyes see nothing but the prospect of justice, until it finally blinded you to who you once were."

Beth gathered herself after Natasha's attack and swung a fist through the air, which the Widow grabbed and threw back in Beth's face.

"I came here not just to stop Zemo--" Natasha continued as she planted a fist of her own into Beth's face, dropping her to the floor, "--but to help YOU. But I've been where you are, and I know that no one--NO ONE--can help you but yourself!"

Black Widow looked down at the defenseless girl, who was now lost in thought, or in regret--words had not swayed her--action had done less.

But she refused to declare this a lost cause.

KA-THOOOOOM!!!!!

The chamber rocked with the roar of what Widow determined to be the Masters of Evil's escape craft.

And as the bellow of that vessel grew, Natasha's hope for Beth began to dim significantly.

"Come on, Beth! Zemo just left--the bomb could go off at any moment!"

As Widow rushed to the girl's side, Beth did not move--it seemed she had not heard the Widow's warning.

Instead, filled with reverie, she breathlessly muttered, "I've always had to...help myself--they have always betrayed me--never, ever helped me--never--"

KRAKA-SHOOOM!

The bomb exploded with a sudden intensity, and it's blast enveloped Beth in a flash that, Natasha hoped, she never even acknowledged--and it raced toward Black Widow as she leapt out of the chamber, rolled over and into a crouch, and sprung through the glass of the window in the next chamber that lead to the open air high above the city--and as she dove through the debris, across the void between structures, and toward a rooftop below, she felt the raging fire reach out past Four Freedoms Plaza to take her--to take her back--but it could not have her again.

Her arrival on the rooftop dozens of feet below was not as graceful as she had desired. She flipped from her hands to her feet, and knelt down to avoid the falling chunks of concrete that once made up the top portion of Four Freedoms Plaza.

As she peered through her shielding arm to inspect the debris plummeting down, she honed in on an eye-catching, crimson cloak that had managed to remain in tact despite the explosion. It flittered down on its long journey to the bustling street with a sense of dignity--as if it had a right to survive.

Natasha watched that cloak until it passed down below her view, and then she heard a familiar voice from behind.

"I do not believe you survived that," Binary gasped as she landed on the rooftop. "I absolutely DO NOT believe it!"

The last scraps of debris piled around them, and Black Widow stood to reply. "Zemo tried to blow up half the city--I encountered...problems...and wasn't able to diffuse the last bomb. Unfortunately, Zemo got away."

"At least he DIDN'T destroy the city!" Binary replied. "You have to look at the bright side, you know?"

"Believe me, Carol, I am--finally, I am...."

***

Later:

Quasar rose up, up into the air in flight and reflection, inspiration empowering him as much as his quantum bands.

Yes, he had lost another love in Beth--as he had recently learned--and perhaps her death was partly his fault. After all, had he not been so concerned with his title as Protector of the Universe--and the effects on that title of the Thanos-clone's death at his hands--he could have acknowledged Beth's uneasy emotional state, and could have even helped her. As Protector of the Universe, he had done all he could to keep her alive--but he had not done enough to make her life worth living.

And it was this realization that led to an even greater one: it was not enough for him to keep ANYone alive as long as they lived with distress--he owed it to the legacy of his title to make the lives that he saved BETTER.

He could not be concerned with his own life, and with fulfilling the cosmic expectations placed on him as the universe's protector--he had to hold those who he protected in higher regard.

And--as the logic of the universe would have it--with this knowledge, he would not HAVE to worry about his contribution to the quantum bands' legacy any longer.

He rose into the darkness of space, perhaps its brightest star.

***

Meanwhile:

Carol Danvers sat alone atop a barstool in Greenwich Village--an increasingly familiar sight these days.

She had come to this bar to stare into the gaze of a half-empty beer bottle, and watch it's reflection--a practice she had found more and more enjoyable since her troubles with Black Widow and the Avengers.

Now, after Widow's near-defeat of Baron Zemo, and the returned Avengers' current effort to end Zemo's control of much of the world, Carol's troubles with the Avengers were over. She was satisfied that the Widow--with her help--was able to redeem the good name of the team, even if it was all done without the public's knowledge.

Yes, Carol could be proud to call herself an Avenger again.

She swallowed down the last of her sixth beer, and started her seventh.

The Avengers had assembled an ad-hoc team to stop Zemo's domination of Earth, and even now were traveling to space to meet Zemo head on--but Carol had not been recruited to that team. She had no hard feelings--she could live with that...

...but not for long.

She took another drink.

It was time for her to rejoin the team, and not simply to serve as a member, but to flourish! For too long had she been dependent on others, like the X-Men and the Starjammers, and for too long had she stayed out of the limelight. It was time for a change.

If her white hole powers refused to cooperate, than she would adjust--change her name, change her game.

If the new Avengers would not accept her due to her turbulent past with the team, she would have to change their minds.

If ever she felt weak, and sought to fall back on others, she would have to change her attitude.

Curse anything that would stand in her way--Carol Danvers would be an Avenger again--

--and she would be at her best!

She took another drink.

***

While in Iowa:

Following his days in recovery after a mysterious attack left him gravely injured and somewhat amnesiac, Hercules had traveled the countryside seeking out evil in all its forms, as only the son of Zeus could.

The good Doctor Stephen Strange had managed to recover many of Hercules' memories, from the time months ago when Black Widow had offered him a position with her new Avengers, which he refused--an assemblage that ultimately never panned out, Strange had informed him--to his dealings with the Hulk, Sabra, and Blackheart. Even now, he found it difficult to place these events--not that he distrusted Doctor Strange with his memories--they were just abnormally...fuzzy.

Nonetheless, he left the Sanctum Sanctorum filled with gratitude--and restlessness.

And then, he heard the news: the Avengers had returned from seeming death!

Oh, how he looked forward to fighting the good fight alongside his heroic comrades once again, if only for a brief period of time. After all, as long as there was evil in the world, it had to be matched, and who better to fight it with than Earth's Mightiest Heroes?

"Aye, it has been too much time since the Avengers have fought bravely beside one another--" Hercules lamented as he journeyed back toward New York on foot, "--and, indeed, too much time since I have fought under that fabled name...."

***

Avengers Mansion:

"Madame Widow, I thought you might like to know that the news reports that the Masters of Evil have been dealt with," Edwin Jarvis poked his head into the study from the hallway, "and that the Avengers are currently on their way back to Earth."

Black Widow gave a slow-motioned nod. "Thank you, Jarvis."

Jim Rhodes stepped away from the mantle, where he had been admiring the various momentos the Avengers had gathered over the years, and approached Natasha, who lounged back in the gleaming leather love seat situated in the center of the study. "Makes you wonder how our Avengers would have been different if we had Jarvis around, huh?"

Natasha gave a brief smile. "I always thought of YOU as our Jarvis, James."

"Yeah, I suppose if Jarvis made nothing but macrel sandwiches for breakfast, lunch, and dinner," Rhodes replied in an equally amused tone. "Why DIDN'T we bring the old boy to the tanker to serve as our butler, anyway, Natasha? I'm sure he would have preferred it to feeding S.H.I.E.L.D. Spam and eggs for the past few months. And you know your secret would be safe with him."

"Yes, I do know that for a fact, actually," Natasha replied. "It turns out, Jarvis has suspected I had reformed the Avengers for quite sometime--he told me earlier."

Rhodes grinned and shook his head in disbelief--though he would not put this feat past Edwin Jarvis. "Should have known...."

"He had a few stories to tell, too," Natasha continued. "Things to rival even our adventures. Eventually we spun a yarn that he can tell Cap and the others if he's ever pressed."

"I'd love to hear it sometime," Rhodes said as he checked his watch, "but I really should catch a plane and head back down to the tanker."

"Thanks for seeing me here safely, Jim."

"You? I just came to see the disappointed looks on those S.H.I.E.L.D. agents' faces when they found out they had to leave the Mansion," Rhodes replied with a hardy chuckle.

There was a silence as Rhodes walked out of the room, and then, "Jim, you won't...?"

He turned and ran his fingers across his lips. "Not a word--I promise."

She smiled at his esteem as he left the study, and in her quite solitude, she felt a rush come over her. A warmth of relief, for all was at it should have been, for the most part.

She would always regret what she had put the Avengers through as chairperson of her secret band, and she would always remember with grief the desperation that shrouded Bethany Hallsworth's face only moments before she died--

--but she would also remember the depths to which she herself had fallen, and had managed to lift herself out of. And for that reason--perhaps that reason alone--she would be able to face the returned Avengers once again--and proudly.

The End

***

The Beginning:

Among the pile of debris that once crowned Four Freedoms Plaza, but now lay in disgrace along Manhattan's streets, city crews searched for equipment from the many chambers of the plaza that would be best left out of the hands of the ordinary folk who would no doubt clamber for a piece of history.

Dallas Riordan had joined that crew in their search, for she wanted to do SOMETHING--she needed to feel...needed. After aiding the Black Widow, she had grown uncomfortable once again. She had been blaming herself for that feeling, but by now she realized that her former lover, Atlas, was to blame. HE was the one to make her look foolish--to betray her. HE was the one who turned a grown women into nothing more than a helpless child. HE was why she felt as she did now.

And while Dallas helped the city crew, she was baffled as to how anyone could see anything worth taking from this debris. In her eyes, it was all tainted with the rage and betrayal with which Baron Zemo--and her own former lover, Atlas--had plagued the once majestic tower. Anything that would be taken from this site would be disgraceful--cursed, even.

And then, Dallas' foot was caught in the debris, and she fell clumsily into the rubble. As she cursed this day's terrible luck and removed the wavy, crimson cloth from around her foot, she was startled to recognize the cloak; her mysteriously-disappeared friend, Beth, had stuffed this cloth into a tote bag only days earlier.

Surely it could not be THIS particular cloth--how could it have made it's way to Four Freedoms Plaza? Absurd, Dallas convinced herself.

Still, as she took a more comfortable seat in the rubble and ran the long cloak through her hands, she was reminded of the eerie words Beth had spoken days before, and--she did not want to believe it--she identified with them. Now she knew what Beth must have somehow been feeling that day--as she had put it, "That feeling you get when you realize that everything you know and adore is a fraud...."

Dallas pulled the crimson cloak closer to her--somehow it felt...warm...soothing.

Yes, Dallas knew JUST how Beth had felt...