[Hellfire]

This was an excellent wave! Congrats to all who have been involved. I'm glad to see everyone is enjoying the new cards.

I apologize for the late update of the OP here ... but it's done now.

To make it up to everyone ...

... Just when you thought the story was over, check out the Johnny and Lord Pyre encore (aka epilogue).

EPILOGUE:

WASHINGTON D.C.
1:16 PM EDT | 9/2/12

The slick sound of a sliding door catches Nick Fury's attention. "Stark," he says, with a nod; the futurist has brought a bouquet of flowers, obnoxiously bright and colorful.

"Consider it a 'get-well-soon' gift," he says, sitting by the hospital bed. Nick Fury does not take sick days. But - with his legs shattered and his back in traction - he is willing to work from bed.

"Very flattering. I assume you're here to report."

"Who, me?" he says, looking around the room. "You remember that I don't really work for you, right?"

"I said report."

They lock eyes - or, in Fury's case, eye. After a moment, Stark speaks. "Helicarrier's smoked - again. Maybe take out some insurance on it next time? Only thirty-six causalities overall. Speedball's not so speedy but should make a full recovery. Batman's been seen around Gotham, so I presume he got out of there fine. Ghost Rider - can he even die? I feel like he probably can't die. I'm fine, by the way."

"Speaking of which," Fury interjects, "how exactly are you... alive? Ultron tossed you from ten miles up."

"Don't worry about it, Nick," he says with a wink. "Little something I'm working on. Never leave home without it. Can't really talk about it now, you know, proprietary stuff. Next time."

Fury raises an eyebrow, but does not press. "Continue."

Leaning back, Stark shrugs. "You probably know better than I do. When I got back to the carrier it was beached in SoCal. Brainiac barely an inch from dead, currently incarcerated, Ultron nothing but scrap..."

"What about Cloak and Dagger?"

"Who?" He ponders. "Oh, yeah, those two. I dunno - MIA, I guess. I'd assume they were killed, but after seeing that guy's powers in action, I wouldn't be surprised to see them around again."

Fury shakes his head. "It's a shame, too; they would have been great for a project I'm working on."

The man in a sharp red suit leans in. "Care to elaborate on that one?"

He snorts. "Next time."

UNKNOWN LOCATION
12:22 PM CDT | 9/2/12

"Damn that Superman... Brainiac defeated, Ultron defeated, Helicarrier full of people saved, and he doesn't even bother taking credit for it! Not that he deserves the credit. He was merely a tool in my all-too-capable hands! No more than a soldier's sidearm, a conductor's baton! LEX LUTHOR was humanity's savior! And no one has even bothered to thank me!"

A tremendously ugly man in a sickly green suit stands before him. "Thank you, Mr. Luthor," he says, with an unpleasant smile.

"And who, exactly, are you?"

"A friend, Mr. Luthor. A friend. And not the last friend you'll meet today - if you'd be so kind as to join me."

With a wary glance, he nods and follows.

WASHINGTON D.C.
1:24 PM EDT | 9/2/12

"So, Nick. I didn't come here to talk about things we're not going to talk about. I came here to talk about, well... this."

From beneath the flowers, Stark takes out a smallish package. Lifting up the cover, he removes its contents and lays it across the hospital bed before them. "You think he's back?"

Taking a tattered red cloth in his hands, Nick Fury, despite himself, smiles. "Yeah," he says. "I think he's back."