Age of Villains

BY : Masterdudemind
Category: Marvel Verse Comics > no category yet
Dragon prints: 4426
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men, the Avengers, Fantastic Four or Inhumans comics, or any of the characters from them. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

History would look back on it as the beginning of a modern dark age.

An age when human rights became a joke, the superman ruled with an iron fist, society fell backwards while technology stumbled ahead.

Countries fell as their surviving civil servants fled for their lives.

Ancient feuds reignited when it was realized there was no government to stop them.

And worst of all, the rights of women fell back to the Dark Ages. They became chattel in nearly every country, the world over. Young women were traded, bred, bartered and sold, and those with super powers soon became the most precious commodity, as they became tools, mass producers of weapons, in a superhuman arms race.

And as irony would have it, it was all because of a self described super feminist.

$$$

New Mexico, secret lab

“Finally,” the villainess known as Superia breathed, “I’ve done it!”

She was in her private lab, funded by AIM, and after years of toadying, of sacrificing her self respect for loathsome men like Norman Osborn and the self declared Advanced Idea Mechanics, she’d finally come upon her ultimate goal.

Pretending to be Norman’s supporter, she had stolen classified intelligence from Osborn, and had access to AIM’s archives, all with one purpose in mind. None of them ever knew what Superia had taken from them, and they never would, until it was too late. Superia was still amazed at the stupidity of the modern villain, waiting only weeks or months before enacting a plan of conquest. A true genius would plan years ahead, purchase everything they needed legally and no one would be any the wiser.

And now, because of that, because of her genius and patience, her lab was bathed in such power, such energy, Superia felt as if she were in the presence of God herself.

And in many ways, she wasn’t far off. After years of studying, research and calculated observations, she’d finally created a devise that could grant her fondest wish. A technological genie created by science.

A cosmic cube.

It had the ability to warp reality itself, and it was believed that it was even a nascent sentient being. AIM themselves had long since given up on creating a new cosmic cube years ago, due to a few bad experiences and close encounters with total annihilation. The risk wasn’t worth the reward, they judged.

But Superia knew how to avoid their pitfalls. She was female, after all. The superior gender.

All it took was a few altered calculations to lobotomize the primal intelligence that resided within the cube, and now it was slaved to her commands, to her innermost wishes.

Superia nearly drooled, despite herself.

“Now my will be done,” Superia stepped up, trembling in anticipation. She placed her hand over the cube, “…how I’ve dreamed of this moment, of this day!”

“Now…,”Superia felt the power connect to her mind, and it felt more intoxicating than any drug, “I wish that all the male heroes of the world would be destroyed, and that all women are returned to their rightful place, to their rightful status!”

At first, nothing happened. Superia frowned. Had she been wrong, had she created nothing more than a cosmic paperweight?

Superia’s disappointment turned to fear, then terror as she saw cracks beginning to form on her cosmic cube, and she didn’t even have the time to scream before a wave of purple and yellow exploded out of the cube in every direction.

Waves of unbridled cosmic power exploded out of the lab, and washed over the planet like the morning sun.

Captain America didn’t see the reality wave coming, too preoccupied with the squad of Hydra agents in front of them. The wave washed over him, and when it passed, all that remained was his legendary shield, falling to the ground in a clatter.

The Hydra agents had no idea what to make of it.

Peter Files, first year patrolman, was writing his first parking ticket when he saw the wave. He barely had enough time to feel the shock of seeing a wall of energy barreling towards him before he was no more.

Daniel Rand, Iron Fist, was in the midst of throwing himself at dozen Hand ninjas when the wave overtook him. The ninjas looked at one another, baffled by what they had just seen, Iron Fist vanishing before their eyes.

Captain Jacob Knight was going through the preflight checklist, when he was hit by the reality wave. His last thought was a simple prayer that he wouldn’t have to land his plane in emergency conditions yet again.

Wolverine was in a bar when it happened. He raised the glass to his lips, and when it was done, the glass fell to the ground and all that remained was a metal skeleton.

T’Challa, Namor and Dr. Strange were in conference in Tibet when the wave struck.  Not a trace of them remained when it was over.

Scott Lang, Ant-Man, saw the wave coming and shrank down on instinct. It wasn’t enough to save him, but as his vision blurred and he thought he saw a beautiful sight. His last words were…

“Cassie? Honey?”

Commander Gold, of Shin Bet, simply closed his eyes as the wave overtook him.

Gauntlet, serving in Iraq, was enjoying some downtime with his unit, when the wave took. When it passed, only five men remained.

When the wave struck bus driver Simon Gaines, his bus jumped the median and struck a family of four.

$$$

When the reality wave faded, it had encompassed the world twice, turned the sky purple, damaged sixty percent of the computers in the world and killed over a billion people.   

Superia was thrown on her back, but when she realized what had happened, she began laughing hysterically, still laying sprawled out on the ground.

“It worked! My Goddess, it worked!”

 “Yes, yes it did. You’ve just put Hitler to shame.”

Superia stood up, and turned to the voice.

It belonged to a blond woman in her twenties, wearing a jacket emblazoned with the trade-mark X of the X-Men, and an M tattooed over her right eye. She carried a gun in one hand, and held it steady on Superia.

“Who are you?” Superia demanded. She was on her feet in seconds.

“My name’s Layla Miller,” she said, “I know things.”

“Am I supposed to care?” Superia scowled, “you’re too late! I’ve won!”

“I know, you killed all the male heroes, but I wouldn’t call that a victory,” Layla sighed, “and believe it or not, trying to stop you would have ended mankind.”

“That’s a misnomer, now!” Superia said, smugly, “womankind will rule now!”

“Will we?” Layla said, with a raised eyebrow, “you remember your wish, correct? You wanted all the heroes killed. And you didn’t kill only the spandex crowd. You killed my next door neighbor, Mr. Nguyen. Do you know why?”

“I don’t even care,” Superia scoffed.

“Because he rushed into a burning building to save his niece. You killed a Jacob Marks, a man who saved his aunt by giving her CPS for two hours. You killed Dr. Barnes, a man who operated a free clinic in Harlem, and that’s not even the tip of the tip of the tip,” Layla said, “do you see what I’m getting at?”

“I’ve won?” Superia smirked, “I already knew that.”

“No,” Layla growled, “you killed all the good and great men in the world. Who do you think is left? In the police, in the army?”

“That’s…”

“And what about the supervillains?” Layla said, “you didn’t kill more than a handful of them. They’re still out there, you stupid bitch! Doom, Red Skull, Mr. Sinister! That’s just the tip of a very big iceberg!”

“I’m not scared,” Superia said defiantly.

“You should be,” Layla hissed. Her eyes began to water, and her gun hand trembled, “the death toll from the wave itself was in the hundreds of millions. But the aftermath? All the plane crashes, car wrecks? The loss of human intelligence? You’ve sent us back to the stone age!”

“Women will survive and thrive,” Superia said defiantly, “it is our destiny!”

“That might be a more realistic delusion if women were an equal part of the armed forces and police,” Layla said, “but we’re not. The chain of command in every army is Swiss cheese, and any surviving soldier, every government on the planet, has automatically lost credibility in the eyes of the public. You killed the good men, but the okay or self loathing men? Still alive. Only they’re left to wonder why they weren’t good enough to die. And the bad men? Well, what do you think?”

Superia said nothing.

“I’ve got to hand it to you,” Layla said, “most extremists only drag their fellows a few inches backward with them. They threaten to create the world they fear, but none of the have done it until you. Well done.”

“I think you’ve wasted enough of my time,” Superia said. She channeled a small surge of energy into her hands, “and I should be rid of you before I take charge of my revolution. Don’t think that gun will help you.”

“I’m Layla Miller, I know things,” Layla said, “those were my first words to you. Why do you think that this is an ordinary bullet?”

Layla pulled the trigger, and shot Superia in the lungs. The villainess screamed, despite herself. She had an extraordinary pain threshold, but whatever the bullet was made from effortlessly surpassed it.

“That bullet was my last favor from Dr. Doom himself. You’re going to die, slowly,” Layla said flatly, “then I’m going to use my mutant powers to resurrect you, only without your soul. Not that you’d notice. That way, soon, you’ll be tortured on earth, while your soul suffers in ways a few dead men could ever hope to understand.”

Layla watched Superia bleed out, and when she breathed her last breath, Layla sent her power flowing into the villainess. Superia, still in shock from dying, simply laid there, trying to grasp what had happened.

Layla walked away, and sighed.  Her children, born only two precious weeks ago, were safe. She’d seen to that.

Now she had to decide if being a brood sow for the next generations of mutants for the rest of her life was worth it, for the sake of a grandson who would reintroduce the concept of human rights as a cultural norm to the world.    

“Decisions, decisions,” Layla said, as she examined the gun in her hand.



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