23

With neural implants, Riri summons her developing Iron Platoon; a work in progress. Airborne prosthetics surround She-Vulture, and take her vulture harness apart, one piece at a time.

"Well, She-Vulture," Riri says, still hanging from her parachute, smiling, "looks like you don't know the nuts and bolts of staying airborne!"

The harness is gone. Trachtenberg starts falling.

The Iron Platoon's prosthetics surround her, and create a cocoon of gold-titanium around her. Soon, she's trapped in one of Riri's exosuits. Via her neural implants, Riri elevates Trachtenberg up to where she is in her chute-fall. She caresses Trachtenberg's "helmet" with her ebony hand, and grins.

"Don't be so glum, dear Jewish princess. Life in the Raft isn't as bad as you think. It beats being dead. And it beats being duped by spoiled Brooklyn Jews into thinking that you're destined to become anyone more than just another little human in Earth's more-than-dominating population of them."

With that, Riri commands FRIDAY to plot a flight path to the Raft. And with that, the prison transport/exosuit flies away, leaving Riri to finish her parachuting to the ground in peace.

Below, college students are playing an intramural game of soccer, on the grounds of Deseret University. Waiting for either team to score is just about monotonous...

Lo and behold, Riri's parachute lands on the fifty-yard line. Suddenly, the enrollment could care less about the game. They surround Riri, and sing praises to her epic aeronautics-as they'd call it. Riri's scared; most of the enrollment here is white-and therefore, less likely very receptive of a black girl-even if she is smart and popular...and not to mention Ironheart...

All around the referees blow whistles and throw flags, demanding that the game be restarted professionally. But you know, every time you think a college student has figured out what he needs to do to get his life in order...he pulls just one more stunt that makes you wonder just how progressively evolving he really is...

In the forest, Simmons/Deathlok takes Huntress's lever-action rifle by the barrel, and swings it against the trunk of a pine tree. Its buttstock shatters to splinters.

Huntress watches in despair, as the lever of her ex-rifle's lever action ricochets across the ground, and into the undergrowth. She watches in even more despair as Deathlok takes the late rifle's barrel in both her hands-the birth one and the prosthetic-holds it just behind her neck, powers her prosthetic arm, and bends the barrel into the shape of a horseshoe.

Kershen screams in rage. Deathlok sighs, and hits her over the head with the bent rifle barrel. She blinks, falls over, and loses consciousness. Deathlok stands over her, grins, and kisses the bend in the barrel.

At long last, the berserkers arise from the forest. They surround Kershen. The lobo/berserkers are licking their chops. The coati/berserkers arrive with iron-forged chains, and deviously wrap Kershen up in them.

With this, Deathlok bows out. A badger/berserker brings her a sack of gold coins, and takes his leave.

Chanting excitedly, the berserkers take Kershen to Ulvgaard with them. They've got her on a human-sized silver platter. At long last, they've attained revenge for their fallen she-wolf. As harsh as this is, it is more peaceful that killing the rest of the Sacrilegious Six.

They take her to the body forge. They leave her in the chamber, and wait outside.

Inside, the smiths remove her clothing. Beneath her intimates, they find many tattoos that canonize her perpetual Jewish faith and heritage. They also find diamond, sapphire, silver, and pearl jewelry-all with Jewish-themed designs, of course. The smiths smile, chuckle, and discard all this Jewish memorabilia.

They put Kershen in the forge. She's waking up. She barely gets a chance to scream before the smiths seal her inside. They activate the forge, step back, and wait.

Outside, the other berserkers anticipate. They can't wait to behold the majesty of the brand new Kershen...whatever her post-rebirth name is.

Inside, a gear in the forge automatically plucks a switch that rings a bell, signalling completion. The forge pops open. Steam overflows from it. It's tainted ginger.

A rugged redhead climbs from the body-forge. She's in the buff. Her eyes are grey. Her hair is curled.

"Welcome to Ulvgaard," the smith says, smiling, "Kara."

"Kara?!" She looks down at her new white body. She holds her new burgundy hair in her hands, gaping. "WHAT IN NIFLHEIM HATH THY DONE TO ME, YOU HONKIES?!" She brakes, and trembles. "Wait...why can I not say 'Niflheim?!"

The smiths laugh. "It is time to meet your new people, Kara."

They push her outside, as she is still in the buff. She seems confused.

And then, she sees the lobo pack, the coati pack, everyone who brought her here, and the thrill-seekers who live here. She looks around at them with big eyes. They're terrifying-yet dreamworthy. She's forgotten that she's naked.

Everyone laughs. Some of them make coy mating calls.

Frantic, Kara looks for one of her Star of David tattoos. It's an Asgardian one instead. She looks down...and realizes she's still naked. She holds her head in her hands, and screams in rage and despair.

As she does, her pupils narrow. The beast is in gestation within the berserker...

In the lake, Scarlet Witch is desperate for relief. She remembers Vision, her synthezoid boyfriend. She remembers her West Coast Avengers teammates. She finds reality, and imagines that Elektra doesn't have any powers.

With that, the water spouts disperse. The fish return from the shallows. Above, the lightning dies. The dark clouds clear, and there is sun over the lake again.

And now, Dijana is unconscious underwater. She'll drown when she wakes.

Scarlet Witch swims to her, and puts a spell around her. "Slinging" her, Scarlet Witch levitates herself from the lake, and floats away to West Coast Avengers HQ.

Dijana's sais sink to the bottom of the lake. Walleyes and bass swim past them, as if they were nothing.

On an airship in the sky over the Dakota Territory, Director Mackenzie, of SHIELD, shakes rookie Agent Marya's hand. Sandgirl is now a SHIELD agent trainee.

"You'll be on probation for a while," Mack tells her. "But if you make it without disappointing us, or world peace, we just might have better work for you to do."

"Thank you, Director," Marya says, smiling. "It's good to see that foreigners can still look an Arab in the eye without barfing."

Mack half-smiles. "We've got a telepathic dog named Cosmo on-board. Earlier this morning he deposited his breakfast in the rear hatch. You know how to clean that, I presume?"

Marya frowns, sighs, and seeks out the cleaning equipment. Seriously; it was just a figure of speech...

"Don't overthink it," Quake says, smiling. She leans against a pillar, with her arms crossed. "You're Sandgirl, after all. Just cake it in sand, and scoop it up."

Marya half-grins. "It's good to see you too, Quake."

"Call me Johnson. If I warm up to you, you can call me Daisy."

Slingshot shakes Maria Hill's hand, with one of her own prosthetic arms. "I hope you're not wrong about her, Maria. She can't shatter the planet to bits like Quake could, but she can sure bury it."

"I trust her," Hill admits. "But if I'm wrong, SHIELD can feel free to imprison me."

"Don't count on it. We, at least, know you're bueno."

With that, Hill takes up a parachute, opens a hatch, and leaps out of the airship. In a heartbeat, Slingshot uses her superspeed to close the hatch.

Through Ole McGee Canyon, a cowboy, Charley Russell Stamey, an ancestor of a musician named Dave Stamey, rides his mule through the canyon, plucking an instrument. On either side of him, his coworkers play their instruments; one sings backup during the choruses.

Their senses are fading. They don't suspect that a boy spider and a girl octopus are having at it, many yards above them, between the canyon walls.

Stan Lee straggles behind them, aback a jackass/pony hybrid. He doesn't seem to approve of the song that's being performed up ahead: "Old McGee Canyon."

"Aw," he complains, "my granny sang better songs than you old greenhorns!"

Atop, Spider-Man and Dr. Octopussy have their last stand. Both tire. But neither can reveal that. Spider-Man just needs a wide-open space.

In twelve decades, they'll make a movie called Benji the Hunted. If Peter could just see it, what he's about to do next could've been inspired by that movie's climax...

Spider-Man runs up a slope. He stops where it dead-ends at a drop-off. Octopussy is chasing him...but can't see him. KAREN activates his suit's virtual camouflage, and waits...

Dr. Octopussy arrives. She mistakes the rising slope for a flat-topped hill. With her prosthetic tentacles, she does cartwheels up it. She flies right over it, and high over the drop-off.

Still virtually camouflaged, Spider-Man watches her flight. Both her birth limbs and her tentacles flail to grab anything that might save her. Alas, there's nothing between her and the flat rocky ground her trajectory's taking her to.

Maintaining the camouflage, Spider-Man uses his wingsuit to catch up with her. He shoots her abs with a web, and uses his wingsuit as a parachute to slow her fall.

She hits bottom. Her octopuss harness is destroyed, and she breaks more than a few bones.

Spider-Man abandons his camouflage, and attends to her. He sprays her in the face with a blinding chemical-one that's only a little more refined than pepper spray.

Peter tells KAREN to message Hill and FRIDAY, and takes off his mask. Oseku is still moaning about her broken bones, her totaled tentacles, and the pain from the spray.

KAREN deploys the suit's medical protocol, and via Spider-Man, patches Oseku up the best they can. She'll need a hospital in the long-term...but hopefully that's SHIELD's problem now.

Peter bends over Oseku, smiling. "Close, Oseku," he reminds her, "but no webbing!"

"Shut up," Oseku sneers. "This WILL happen again. And next time..."

"If you didn't need a big airway, I'd SO web your mouth shut right now."

Oseku growls in rage. The fallen Dr. Octopussy has no choice but to wait for an ambulance...however forgiving it turns out to be.

Somewhere in the Atlantic, the Raft has three new inmates. Without powers, they're all kept in separate cells in the maximum block of the human wing.

On the upside, they won't get executed here. On the downside, Trachtenberg and Oseku are not in the mood to help Dijana escape...yet.

Months later, Dijana gets a letter from a strange sender. It bears a Greek-themed postage stamp. She opens and reads it.

To my convincing imposter,

Well-done. I never would've thought to use my sais as vessels for channeling generated electricity. Heard you caused quite the natural ruckus in Deseret, with the lightning and the maelstroms and Scarlet Witch.

As impressive as you were, I still prefer the more manual means of sai-fighting. Because of your impression, I'm letting you off with a warning this time. But should you ever smother my image less honorably, I might not remain so elusive-OR merciful.

Good luck on better prospects when and if you get out of the Raft,

Elektra Natchios

P.S: if you're ever in Hell's Kitchen, stay the fuck away from the blind vigilante they call Daredevil. He's forever mine.

Dijana sighs, and files the letter inside a brick in the wall of her cell. "Inspirational ninja," she admits. "Daredevil's no idea how lucky he is." She pauses. "I also didn't know she was from Greece. If I ever go back home to Bosnia, I just might look her up..."