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"What is this place?" he wonders as the mist clears.
The one thing he knows for certain is...he is tired.
It seems as if he's been traveling forever. Beginning with his the journey throughout SHC...and then moving on to the known universe before finally breaking the interdimensional walls which contain the multiverse.
But no matter where he was, one thing remained constant.
The struggle.
Meeting foe after foe, a seemingly endless parade of aliens, villains, demons and monsters. A never-ending Rogue's Gallery with no chance for a lasting, permanent triumph. That's because as soon as one threat is dealt with, another would immediately arrive.
Trapped in an endless loop of combat, he never stepped away from the fight, even when the odds were hopelessly stacked against him.
He gained many friends and allies throughout his travels. Unfortunately, he also earned the enmity of a large number of formidable foes.
But no matter the circumstances, there were always those in need of protection, in need of help, in need of a hero.
Since that fateful day years ago when he inhaled the strange vapors from an underground seam, he had gained powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men.
He chose to use those powers for good...to protect the innocent and proudly stand against tyranny.
But...oh what a price he had paid for his decisions. A savior to some, a devil to many more. His was a restless, challenging life for neither the weak-willed nor for those lacking on conviction.
Certainly he could walk away. No one on this new world, in this new universe was even aware of his arrival. He could take off the mask, doff the cape and live a normal, safe life among the millions of those not gifted with his powers nor cursed with his convictions.
Yes, he could hide amongst the masses, looking up to see the gods of this world engaging in the never-ending battle.
But that would be contrary to his character, an anathema to his soul.
He had never run from a fight in his life. He saw no need to start running now.
This may be a place where he would make no impact. Perhaps his name had been long forgotten, cast upon the lost shores of history and memory.
But maybe, just maybe...he could make a difference here. Similar to his previous contributions, which had made a difference in the lives of many...but most importantly, his own.
This was another place to make a stand...refusing to bow to the forces of evil, to those who would corrupt power in order to pad their own existence at the cost of their fellow man.
Would he ever be successful? It was too early to tell...and frankly...he no longer cared about the definition of success nor the pursuit for personal glory.
He only existed for the fight. For the moment to stand and be counted. When others are running away from the fire, he would be one racing toward it.
There was a time when his name was both lauded and cursed. There are those who called him friend and others who spat out his name...whether they thought he was a formidable opponent or an insignificant irritation.
There was a time when his name stood for something.
Perhaps that time will come once again...but for now, he sets out to explore his new world, to see what he shall see...and endeavor to find his true place in the vast cosmic order.
Excelsior!!!!
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ID# 10962
