A complicated game is being played between good and evil. The entire world is their game board. All the players aware of what is at stake. Make the wrong move and you can be taken out. Permanently.
Sanctioned to monitor metahuman activity around the globe, the organization is split into two divisions: White and Black. The White division specializes in intelligence gathering. The Black division charged with operations. After an operation gone wrong, Sasha Bordeaux, now the organization's Black Queen, recruits Tom Tresser (Nemesis) to assemble lesser known heroes and vigilantes for one time missions.
Though the roster constantly changes, the mission is above all else.
As the Black Queen, Sasha would know about Waller and her Task Force X program - thus the inspiration
As heroes that dwell in the spy game, the team would act in shady areas in the mold of Cry for Justice JL, Extreme Justice, or Task Force - it just would have a heavy rotating roster to not consume dibs for other series, thus the expectation of releases would be always be fluid. It would be a team that does the things that need to be done - especially those missions not optically suitable for the Justice League. Its almost an anthology team series, but no Superman to bail them out and far less consistency than Outsiders.
The type of deep darkness that only lives in the depths of space. The only difference is that there are no stars to guide ones path. In this darkness there is no up. There is no down. One reaches out into the nothingness only for despair to grasp the hand you can no longer see. When it does touch you there is not much one can do. It is like an infectious disease that can spread deep into ones soul and shatter it into a million pieces. One just has to cling onto who they are as a person and hope it is enough.
"I am Will Magnus."
There was a muffled explosion. It was faint due to the distance but Magnus could instantly smell the nitramide and rubber they used in the C-4. He never much cared for it since it always left a funny taste in the back of his throat. His eyes adjusted to the green laser streams that made their way down the corridor he once remembered. His star had finally appeared.
"Sir, we have live one," a voice shouted as his mounted light made Magnus guard his eyes against the pain.
Another light appeared, then another, as the sudden intensity made it feel as Magnus was gazing into the sun. Magnus' eyes slowly began to adjust as someone stepped forward.
"My name is Rick Flag," the man said as he slowly reached out to the guarded Will. "I am part of the United States military. We are here to get you out."
"I am Will Magnus."
"It's nice to meet you Will Magnus," Rick replied. "Can you walk?"
Rick shook his head in his weakened condition. Rick draped Magnus' arm over his neck, instantly noticing his fragile condition. The clothes that adorned his body dangled two sizes too big. There was a low groan caused by the weight of his now long matted head and facial hair adding what felt like a ton to his lithe body.
"Kurt!" shouted Rick. "Tell command we need to EXFIL now with a medical plus one."
"Gotcha, boss man. A couple of birds coming our - what the..."
The sudden loss of words from his colleague made Rick turn as now dozens of lights flooded the room Will occupied. At first glance the team thought the remains to be body parts - arms, legs, skulls, chest cavities opened with rib cages protruding through them scattered everywhere. Upon closer inspection the extremities were not human but made of metal, a robotic graveyard.
"Who are you?" Rick asked with a concerned look.
"I am Will Magnus," he said once more, not wanting to take a look before him he uttered his next words with shame. "What have I done?"
"Did the ancient Mesopotamians speak to people from another planet? Where their artwork and advancements aided by extraterrestrials?"
"In late game heroics, the Gotham Knights pulled off a late fourth quarter drive to get their winning streak to five games."
"As we see from the monitor we have a massive cold front pushing from the North that is going to stall over the region and bring some unseasonable weather to us for a few days."
"Show me the money."
"I couldn't hear you Jerry. I gots to feel it.
"Show me the money!"
"Hello, I am Bethany Snow for Channel 2 News. News from the Pentagon is that a joint military operation in Yemen discovered an American hostage in one of the raids conducted by American Special Operations. According to sources, the American hostage is named William Magnus. Not much is known about William Magnus since the day he disappeared ten years ago from his home in Hoboken, New Jersey. There are millions of questions circulating everywhere from how Magnus got into Yemen to what happened in the ten years between him missing and....
"The news can be quite annoying these days," a familiar voice rang from the door of Will Magnus' hospital room.
Magnus turned, shocked to match the voice with a friendly face. It belonged to a tall, dark haired man with a wiry mustache as it had on the day the had first met. "Thomas Oscar Morrow?!"
Morrow smiled as he took a seat next to the few men he recognized as an equal. "Williams Maxwell Magnus!" He found it odd to hear his entire name said aloud. Few had done it. Even fewer knew of it. "How are you old friend?"
"Dr. Morrow," Magnus stammered. "How did you find me here?"
"Tsk. Tsk. I asked first."
Will leaned back on his bed, trying to choose his next words carefully. "They think I have lost my mind."
Morrow's smile straightened as did his gaze on Magnus. "Have you?"
"I...I really do not know." It was the truest answer Magnus could give as he gazed out his window view. "They say I was missing for ten years, but I do not remember any of it."
"That is no reason for people to assume you are crazy," Morrow said. "Men like you and me have always been misunderstood. Our vision is what elevates us from many."
"Can you tell that to the soldier posted at my door?" Magnus urged as both chuckled. "So how did you find me? I have been stuck here for three days with wires everywhere and guards constantly standing at that door. If anything is driving me insane it is the damn guards everywhere." Magnus grabbed his empty urinal with disgust and threw it in the direction of the guard. "I know you can hear me!" He shouted with disgust.
Morrow looked at the military stand firm as he was taught. Morrow reverted his attention back to his friend trying to calm rising tempers. "Many things have changed in ten years Will."
"Yeah! Like what?"
Magnus was beginning to vent and Morrow totally could sympathize for his former colleague. Though he had been missing for ten years, the sudden rage flares brought back many memories of the man before him. He remembered Magnus isolating into his work but there were many times frustration took the better of him. Many did not see those days since he bunkered in his laboratory for days, but Morrow was quite aware of the side of William Magnus that many did not. "Well for starters I work for the Department of Defense."
Magnus' brow furrowed, waiting for the punch line of the joke. "Thomas Morrow works for the American military-industrial complex?"
Morrow himself tried to refrain from laughing aloud at the notion. When he was the age Magnus is now he would have never imagined the thought. His joyous smile straightened as he thought of the things that led him to the very moment he was now. "Things happen, Magnus. Stuff is out there that needs explaining and when it confronts you in the face one either runs or grasps the moment and concur it. Which one do you think I did?"
Magnus didn't answer immediately out of admiration for the man. Morrow had visions of building a technological Camelot, and he himself was a chosen member. If Morrow went to work for the US government than he would trust he did it for good reasons. "I think you did what was best."
Morrow shook his head in appreciation and wanted to return the favor as he knew something Magnus did not. "Congress wants to debrief you in a closed door session, Magnus."
"Congress? For what? I was essentially cleared by medical upon my return. They say I can go home by the end of the week."
"That is when Congress would like to speak to you," Morrow huffed. "Your disappearance have some worried. They never wanted a Robert Oppenheimer in the hands of terrorist. Sadly, you were found in a terrorist headquarters."
"I never worked on anything on the scale of Oppenheimer."
"Not ten years ago," Morrow replied. "But then again you cannot recall the past ten years of your life. I know you as a colleague and a friend and I have to admit your story is something out of a sci-fi fantasy."
"You think I did something?" Magnus asked.
"I don't know if you did. All I'm saying is that when Congress summons you into sessions that I will have your back."
Magnus appreciated the sentiment. Morrow was right about his situation. He was surprised men in black suits did not come and yank him off to some forgotten dungeon. He was unsure of a lot of things but at least knew someone was in his corner during this time. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course," Morrow said.
"What is twitter?"
Morrow snapped his head back and started laughing. "That is something that definitely isn't worth your time." Both laughed as friends do. If Congress wanted to question Magnus then he would be ready for them
He continued into the town, hearing the cries of the dead innocent from years long gone get louder the deeper he ventured. Ghastly phantasms continued to cross his path, revealing the evil that had succumbed all its residents. He managed his way through actions of murder and insanity, all of which he had seen over the centuries, very rarely though is such a confined location. The smell of death lingered heavily in his throat, his senses being bombarded by the stench of sin.
The sun began to set on the town as he stopped in front of one house. Physically it was no different than any of the other run-down dwellings on the street - mold and decay had claimed it long ago, but something had visited this home. It was faint to his senses, but it was there. It was something ancient. It was something familiar, but unnatural to this plane of existence. He just couldn't quite place it.
His body went immaterial, passing through the laws of physical matter which was the door to enter the home. He was greeted by a still skeleton near the foot of steps, the fracture on its skull revealing blunt trauma and probable cause of death.
"Who is she?" a voice screamed from upstairs. "Who is she?!"
He turned to gaze upward looking for events to unravel. The skeletal remains at his feet faded away as history engulfed the present as yesteryear began to reveal itself to the Spirit of Vengeance. The rot and soot beneath vanished under his feet as the woodened floors appeared brightly as ever. The same happened to the walls as the colors on the wallpaper that had adorned its halls popped vibrantly. The banister began to slowly web together spindle by spindle as he made his way up the stairs until the destruction was made whole once more.
The Spectre had reached the second level of the home as he witnessed the young woman unleash her anger upon her dead husband. Her voice became loud pitches and shrieks of anger, revealing the darkest corner that he had known in much of humanity. She continued the assault, her hand grasping and ramming the dead body on the bottom corner of the wall as blood and brain matter began to spray onto her and through the Spectre's body as he hovered over both. This was the anger of a woman scorned. Even though her husband’s limp dead body remained motionless the attack continued. The body at the door entrance his mistress. He thought many humans denied the existence of the evil corner that lurked deep inside everyone. He knew all it took was a certain trigger to ignite such a beast. For this household it was the revelation of adultery.
There was a sudden quake in the air which appeared like a ripple effect cascading through space and time. The sudden quake brushed away the actions of the past and forced the material present to manifest around the Spectre again. He found the experience interesting as his curiosity peaked. His attention shifted to the tarnished window down the hall. Even through the caked dirt and stain upon the window, he could see a light in the distance. He could see the fire flutter like an exotic dance attempting to lure his own dark corner. He recognized it as a courtesy. An invitation to reveal themselves to each other. It was also something he had to answer.
Time passed differently for the Spectre. Things from the past and the present all blended together before his eyes until he decided otherwise. Now was one of those times, ignoring the phantasms of the past and focusing only on the church.
He passed through the giant wooden doors, now noticing more candles being lit within the sanctuary. A woman scantily cladded was easily seen upon entering. The tattoos which laced every extremity of her body an outside representation of what she represented now that they were in such proximity of each other. She remained seated on the alter steps with her legs crossed, her arms extended while her head rested back on the top step. She was young in body, but he could sense she was ancient. As old as he was yet this was the first time they had ever truly met.
"You are her?” the Spectre asked. "The Jezebel who would tempt Vengeance itself."
Her head rose, her gaze sternly fixed on him. "How do you see me?" she asked.
It was a simple question yet his post-cognitive vision jumped feverishly on request. Her face revealed nothing now, just a blank emotionless shade. Her clothing did change as different eras she had ravaged cascaded through time upon her slender frame. She arose with a devilish and approached, slowly tracing her finger along his cloak and eventually down the side of his face.
“What did you see?”
The Spectre barely moved. “I saw an abomination wandering aimlessly through time. I saw the dust of Babylon at your feet. Civilizations and nations have fallen when you make your presence known. It is much like a plague.”
“Have you not done the same?” She sat her head upon his chest, her hand caressing his chest. “I do recall it was you that went through Pharaoh of Egypt. I spent weeks enjoying the cries of the city.”
“I am the Spirit of Vengeance. I am bound to the divine law,” he said with disgust as she attempted to equalize the two. “I extinguish the fire of the damned. Your deviant spark ignited the fires of Nod or need I remind you.”
“Do not bring up his name. I escaped from him long ago,” she said with trepidation. “I have a name now.”
“What else shall the Spirit of Murder be called?”
She closed her eyes, sniffing the power before her. “They have come to call me Rose Tattoo.”
With her introduction, Rose grasped a hidden blade from her side and shoved it through the Spectre’s chest with lightning speed. A torrent of spiritual force ravaged the sanctuary sending Rose and everything near them flying. A concrete pillar stopped her travel, indenting a large crater within the wall.
The Spectre huffed loudly as he clutched at the exposed site. Rose could see the effects of the attack affect her victim, smiling with glee as she licked her blood which now dribbled down her lip.
“You are quite powerful,” she said loudly as she appeared grasping two blades now. “I can tell though you are restricted from all of your power. Are you having daddy issues?” With speed that rivaled her opening attack, she flipped the blade in the air until her fingers grasped its blade and sent it darting toward the Spectre.
Aware of the threat before him, the Spectre raised his hand forcing the projectile to slow its trajectory until it was drained of forward momentum. The blade fell to his feet as both combatants focused on each other.
“You are an obscenity to this existence,” barked the Spectre.
Rose smiled again as she flung her other blade with greater force and speed as the previous attack. That blade too was halted, but Rose used that distraction to leap in the air toward the Spectre. Her attack would have been a fatal blow to most, but the Spectre dissolved into the floor as her knee made contact with his cloak.
Rose looked around, looking for the next possible attack as the Spectre’s cloak slowly melted into the cracks of the floor. Many had fallen by her hands throughout time. Many had fallen by just the mundane objects in the sanctuary alone, yet she knew the Spectre was more than any subject she had killed before. The excitement alone made her spine shiver.
“You dare try to strike down Vengeance itself, Rose Tattoo!” The voice was clearly of the Spectre, but it resonated from every direction, as if he was the church itself. A shadow began to expand from behind her as she quickly turned to see no one. Her attention shifted to the main church glass mural above her position. Where once a cross with random patterns of reds and purples formatted the design was but a memory to Rose as only the green cloak of her adversary formed the design upon the mural now. Slowly each other mural in the church contained images of the green cloaked Spectre. She tried to stay focused but with every instinctive blink the images changed until they all pointed at her.
A sudden explosive force filled the room as all the glass murals shattered, sending thousands of shards of glass downward. Rose sought cover from the falling debris as her arms guarded her face. The shards continued to fall as if they were rain drops from a storm. Across the sanctuary a pile of glass shards began to take form of the Spectre. The hooded form’s cowl arose as his eyes locked once more with Rose. His hand rose, her heart skipped. He summoned a giant shard from the ground and with a gesture it hurled itself at immense speed across the room. She turned to defend herself as the shard imbedded itself into her back. He clenched his hand shut commanding the wooden bleachers to crash into each side of Rose. She snarled at the attack only for it to be snapped into a small scream as three more shards impaled her body. She could not defend herself as she noticed now that the glass shards were dancing in the air at the command of the Spectre. Another shard sliced across her leg as he dropped to a knee. Another shard pierced her achilles tendon forcing both knees down to the ground. Each attack were small cuts but they came with no end. Each slice tearing a piece of skin until only muscle showed and continued until nothing but a skeleton remained in a pool of her own blood.
The shards of glass stopped their attack with a command from the Spectre. He walked upon the remains of his adversary, his post-cognitive vision gazing upon the skeletal remains before him. His vision was different this time as the face of the woman he had just battled revealed a life not connected to what he had encountered. The battle may have ended as her body had failed yet the spirit itself continued somewhere else. He would meet this spirit again. He could feel it, but it would not be tonight. Tonight, only the Spectre remained.
The day had ended like most days for Charles Neubert. He exhaled a sigh of relief as he finally made it home. His mind was focused on just pure relaxation to recover from his exhausting day. He had envisioned himself jumping into his sofa, kicking his feet on the coffee table and just vegetate on hours of Netflix binge watching. As he entered the house he was greeted with a fresh aroma of burgers and hotdogs originating from the kitchen. He followed the enticing trail to witness his long-haired beauty await him.
“You read my mind, Hun!” He said as his stomach began to rumble from the smell. “I was starving.”
She leaned back against the counter, giggling as she tossed a hand towel at him. “I thought about going out for Italian tonight, but at the last minute I just didn’t feel the urge to get dressed.”
“I know that feeling all too well,” Charles snickered. “You ready to eat?”
“You can eat but I am still making my salad.”
“That sounds like a plan to me,” he replied as he took a seat at the table while preparing a plate. “I don’t really think I could have lasted another hour waiting in line to get served.”
“How about we go to eat tomorrow though?”
Charles merely gestured with a nod as his mouth was full of food. He closed his eyes with extreme satisfaction as he enjoyed every bite. Before he could swallow and take another bite, the sense of sharp metal raced across his neck. His eyes opened wide, as he could feel the warm sensation of his own blood race down his neck and his hands as he attempted to stop the bleeding. He fell to the floor, wondering what had just happened. He turned to see the woman he loved stand over him with the bloodied blade in her grasp.
It was something in her eyes that was different. Something almost inhuman. As he tried to cling to his own life he could tell this was not the woman he loved. She walked over his body as if the pooling blood on the floor was but a nuisance. His vision began to blur and then there was nothing.
She walked into the bathroom, grabbing a pair of scissors and began hacking chunks of hair off at a time. When finished she stared at her own reflection, her hair just gracing her ears in length now. She wiped her bloodied hand over the mirror, stepped back and just smiled.
“My name is James Corrigan…”
“Anything else?” the officer asked.
“That is all I know,” He said with a desperate tone. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes were on the brink of tears. “I swear to you that is all I know. I could never do this.”
Two detectives watched the interrogation through the two-sided glass that separated the rooms. The man they stared at claimed amnesia. He was also the lone surviving man in the middle of human graveyard with blood covered all over him. He carried no identification and every database on the known planet came back with nothing on the man. Either this man committed their crime or the universe completely screwed him and placed him at the wrong place at the wrong time.
“How did you get there?”
He placed his head into his palm, his other hand trembling with fear on the table. “For the eighth time, I do not know. I just know my name. I do not know how I got there. I never do.”
The officer perked at his last sentence. “Never do?” he said aloud. “This type of stuff happens to you regularly?”
Jim Corrigan couldn’t respond as he could feel his throat tighten with the answer. He merely nodded the confirmation. The lights in the building began to flicker as his eyes opened wide, fear causing him to sweat profusely. Both his hands clenched his hair as he feared the inevitability he had witnessed countless of times. He would be flung from one part of the world to another, not knowing how he got there. He would get to a certain moment in a place and then it happened. Everything after a complete blank slate.
The lights flickered more intensely as the interrogation room went completely dark. It was two seconds but Jim Corrigan was gone. The two detectives looked bewildered. The man was in a locked room in hand cuffs and two seconds was all it took to vanish before them. The hairs on their arms began to rise while both of their spines shivered as if both sensed something unnatural. Something did move, something barely able to grasp a description from either of them. They knew something was there. Something definitely was there.
There was a time during the last century that the town was a stereotypical example of rural America. The town was filled with white picket fences block upon block. Everyone congregated to the local church and extended outside its halls into their houses. There was an aroma of apple pie in the wind and kids laughter scattered aloud randomly. For those that lived in Liberty Hills, Nevada, this was the American dream.
One day the sun had set in the town only for it not to rise again. It had become a fading memory to many. To some just a myth. Whatever happened to the town things were never the same again. No one had graced the town since that day. No one but the Spectre.
The Spectre walked into the dilapidated town, his green cloak dragging upon the streets that hosted many of parades and town festivals in its time. Disrepair and ruin lingered throughout as far as he could see. He came up onto a school playground where rot had eaten away at the seats of the swing set while rust had choked the metal chains that suspended it. He closed his eyes, ignoring the wretched noise of death when the wind blew upon the swings to only remember the laughter that once filled the seat.
"Hello," a voice uttered. "You want to play?"
The Spectre opened his eyes to see the apparition smile before him. She was a young girl with pig-tails, no more than seven, with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. Her color in her cheeks solidified a deep red as if they had never left her. Others appeared on the playground laughing and screaming with immense joy on the playground, not knowing the fate that had consumed the town long ago.
"What is your name, little one?" Spectre asked.
"My name is Amanda," she replied quickly. "Amanda Johnson. My daddy is the mayor."
"It seems that you have plenty of friends to play with here, Amanda Johnson." The Spectre could see nothing but the innocence in the girl before him, which made what happened long ago a greater travesty. "How come you are not playing with the others?"
The young girl smiled. "My brother is in the nurses station. They said he was sick. I think he has a cold. He keeps coughing. I guess the others do no want to get sick, but I am healthy."
"How long has your brother been sick?"
Amanda shrugged. "He only got sick today. I thought it was my daddy that would get sick though."
"Why do you think your daddy would get sick and not your brother?"
"He hasn't been acting the same. Has not played with me in a couple of days."
"Does he play with you often?"
"All the time," she smiled.
"Can I ask you another question?" Spectre asked.
"Yes, sir," smiled Amanda.
"Have you noticed anything different in town?"
Amanda thought deeply, her face contorting to various different angles as she searched for an answer. "Nothing I can think of, sir. There was a new person that came into town though. She had these tattoos on her hand that looked like a flower."
"How long ago did this happen?"
"The same day my daddy stopped playing with me."
The Spectre smile vanished as he looked down the street deeper into town. It was as if the town itself was pleading for vindication. The school bell rang and as young Amanda Johnson ran back with her classmates, a piece of her broke off and fluttered away. Piece by piece would be blown away from them all as if they were made of dust until nothing remained of them but a memory within the Spectre. The children of the school all died from a strand of small pox. He could smell it the moment the apparition spoke to him. They had not caused the death of the town, but did succumb to its tragedy and the Spectre knew he would have to go deeper into the town to discover the origin of the calling.
"You were caught illegally crossing over into our borders," a stoic voice uttered. "Who are you and what are your intentions?"
Digger Harkness looked around the room as he dangled in the air from metal shackles which had encased his hands and wrists. "I told Rick that we should have made that bloody left at Albuquerque. One squabble led to another and the next thing we know we are crossing over your border. If it wasn't for all those soldiers with automatic weapons stopping us when they had we probably would have ended up somewhere like Afghanistan."
The interrogator arose from his seat, slowly moving toward Digger, grasping his chin in admiration. "You have spunk. That is easily seen." With a quick motion he unleashed a blow onto his prisoner's ribcage, followed by another and another. "That will not help you here. I will make it simple for you. We can start with your name."
Digger was easily effected by the blows, blood visibly trickling down his chin from the effects of the punches. "You couldn't have started with that," Digger huffed. "My name is Inigo Montoya. I am looking for the man who killed my father. He had six fingers on his right hand. By chance, can I see your right hand."
"You still jest," the interrogator said. He raised his right hand as per the request, showing it to Digger only to move it to a pair of frayed wires that extended from a car battery. The interrogator then grabbed a bucket which was filled with water and tossed it upon Digger. Digger spat out what he could, not being able to see the wires which had now made contact with his skin.
Digger screamed a roar of immense pain as the shock of electricity surging through his body shocked his eyes open onto his torturer. "Hello," Digger continued. "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."
The interrogator shook his head in disbelief as he made contact with Digger yet again. Once again Digger screamed loudly, his wrist now bleeding from the metal shackles cutting into clenching fist. "I can do this all day until you answer my questions truthfully or until you die. That is up to you."
Digger began to search for his breath as it was hard for him to talk let alone breathe. He dangled limp until he found energy for a mumble. "Hello! My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."
my replies are in spoilers while I dissected yours into quotes. Key word is dissected
Counter to Ultron's Hacks
Impressive stuff for Ultron although trying to hack The Maker is gonna be Ultron's downfall.
Reed's AI, The City was able to hijack an Omega Level Omniopath with ease and afterward killed him. The Mind Stone of the Ult. Universe, Anthony, also stated that one would need either 500 years or a supercomputer the size of a solar system in order to hack Reed.
Wait, what! You and me remember the end of Ultimates differently. Either you forgot or you are trying to redirect around the subject. I mean, I have nothing to hide cuz Im giving you the series and some issue numbers if you want to double check context, but the above is a little off.
First off, Anthony did hack the Dome...the entire Dome, so much that Knife, Spears, and even the Giant Iron Man that fought Hulk, as shown below
secondly, even from the Ultimate series, the omnipath did break in. Omnipathy is more TP related, but even with the two scans Reed even says so
Maker even says in the 2nd scan that, "." Now the omnipath did get owned on counter-measures but it was still breached
and then there was the time in New Avengers (vol4 issues 14-17 (2015)) that Maker's tech got hacked yet again, and brought down.
but even when he regains his usual self when the universe collapses, Maker's tech still gets hacked by 1610 Iron Man in Ultimates 100.
So to counter what Anthony said in your scan, every showing after that scan has proven that Maker tech has been hacked...multiple times
If Ultron decides to try and hack the placet as you claimed in your opener Reed could simply transport the City and all of his forces into another reality like the Negative Zone and prep in there. Not to mention Ultron's technopathy is gonna take an extremely long time to acct terraform the planet in Reed's perspective. 0.19 seconds in the Dome is a year in real time according to Reed so Reed's gonna have all his prep done even before Ultron's even got 20% of the planet taken over. Not to mention the Virus would probably die if it got close to the Dome due to the harsh gravity.
From what I know of battle and prep, prep cannot extend to the battlefield before the battle actually starts. It usually is contained in the area. I was more stating the techno-hack of Titan as a showing of pure size of ability. Your Dome is a city size object in Germany. Titan is a moon. Moon > then city
As for time manip with Maker, Pym has defeated said feats against 616 Reed
As for harsh gravity, the sheer science of Pym particles has also defeated such measures
As a reminder, Pym particles has escaped not only nuclear fusion of the sun but also escaped its gravity
So utilizing Pym particles, as Ive shown Pymtron has actually used, it also escaped Chthon's planetary reality warp which took out Asgard in Oklahoma, X-utopia in San Francisco, and even Baxter Building, yet inside Pym particles they were safe and also teleported into the reality warp via Infinite Mansion teleportation doors.
If Pym particles can escape sun gravity and heat and also Chthon planet reality warp with no effects, I think I will be fine against the Dome's harsh gravity.
The City/The Dome
The Dome is Reed's base of operation it has some pretty OP self-defense plus it has an AI that's able to combat Ultron's technopathy assuming he tries to uses it. Besides that The City can take over for Reed if he chooses to leave and attend to something.
Scan 1: The City can increase the density of The Dome to yank Thor out of the air when's fifty miles out of range.
Scan 2: The City can hide The Dome from SHIELD's scanning
Scan 3: The City can predict possible outcomes of an event
Scan 4: The City can enable The Dome to fly
Scan 5: The City can create almost anything as seen it creates a giant Iron Man armor that can fight evenly with a Giant Man version of Ult. Hulk.
The Dome is pretty much tech. Its definitely Artificial Intelligence. And actually would go under the hacking
Not only does Ultron have planet level technopathy compared to your city
But as stated above during Rage of Ultron which they merged, Hank has tech that can shut down Artifical Intelligence tech.
This is an actual invention I mentioned in prep to counter Maker. This isn't WIS like the Pym virus that killed Ultron. So much so that Pym created it to counter such an event
I might sound blunt but Ultron's drones honestly have nothing on what Reed's children. Let's take a look...
These things are physical monsters and Reed has a lot of these things.
Scan 1: Overpowered a Captain who's on par with 1610 Thor
Scan 2: Overpowering the actual Thor
Scan 3: Blitzing Iron Man
Scan 4: Showcasing enough strength to overpower 616 Black bolt
Scan 5: Firing energy blasts powerful enough to kill 616 Groot and Rocket Raccoon.
These things serve as Reed's bodyguards and each of them is a solid high tier on their own.
In only 2 scans we see these things tear stomp the Ultimate Version of Thor with a speed blitz and 3 hits. What makes this showing more impressive is that unlike 616 Slowdinson, 1610 Thor has been able to keep up with FTL 1610 Quicksilver and Hyperion with no trouble.
Its debatable on feats of such clones. I mean I have clones that have powers of Avengers and have also infected said Avengers on the level I think you are talking about as shown above
I mean the Children are valid. They can fight against 1610 Asgardians. I wont deny that, but I like to point out two points again:
1- they are using tech vs Ultron clones. Did you not see my scans of Ultron clones using Vision's intangibility and Scarlet Witch's hex bolts?
2- their organic nature can also be transformed as stated above when they did the Avengers or just by pure dispersal like he did back in Avengers West Coast 66 and also did it in Rage of Ultron on a planetary scale
Probably the weakest of Richard's army but they bring something unique to the table and that's being able to scan the drones, identify their weakness, and adapt. The Geneticists can also transfer their information to Reed and The City(I'll bring up later) who can work on a way to neutralize them while The Children protect the Dome
Scan 1: Evolves in order to see Magic
Scan 2: Performs scans on superhumans
Scan 3: Performs 4591 scans On Tony Stark in a matter of seconds and informs The Maker of her discoveries
Scan 4: Combat wise they are faster and stronger than Spider-Woman.
The more people you have I understand helps you with prep but. if he wanted to, Hank could just copy his brain patterns into more Ultron's. That is who Ultron is anyways: a copy of Hank Pym. Hank was the one that transferred Wonder Man's brain patterns to Vision, and by separation Wasp's to Jocasta
But even if it wasn't used, and Ultron just wanted mindless clones, which he usually does, let me counter such feats vs your Geneticist with pure Hank ability
Hank has been able to see magic
Hank's brain is so advanced even 40th century tech cannot understand it
But there is one thing I know your Geneticist cannot do...
like punching through Magus chest - who I find to be on Ultron tier
Ultron first has to get close to The Maker which is already beyond him not to mention Reed isn't going down as easily as you claim but I'll showcase that if you somehow provide proof that Ultron can get past The Dome and The Children.
[Query: Invalid://Summary Closing://]
I responded to every single subject your brought up. I think its a fair assumption that if your main strategy is to attack me with tech and biology vs an expert in biology and tech with actual feats against your strategy along with 616 Reed as well, I think Im getting past your Children and Dome with tech spores/transformation.
I hear those teleportation doors opening through Pym space now. Hello. Reed. Are you ready...
"There came a day, a day unlike any other, when Earth's mightiest heroes found themselves united against a common threat - to fight the foes no single super hero could withstand!" There was a slight pause as Immortus stared at the eight figures gathered before him. "How I loathe that day."
"I hate to break it to you, but you are not that high on our friends list either," Yellowjacket replied. His response was sarcastic, yet expected from the moment in time where Hank Pym suffered his most profound mental break - making him being exiled from the Avengers and divorced from his wife, the Wasp.
"Can someone explain to me who this man is. I mean it is obvious he has a clear disdain for us gathered here?" Ant-Man asked, much like Yellowjacket he too Hank Pym, plucked out of time where he was a founding Avenger who questioned his role on a teams of gods and legends.
Miles Morales, a Spider-Man from an alternate dimension where the famed originator died, looked around the group, "Can someone please explain to me who you people are?"
"We are Avengers, Spider-Man," the white bearded Avenger spoke. "The man that is trying to bash our existence is named Immortus, the future self of Kang the Conqueror. I agree with Yellowjacket, he isn't high on the Avengers friends list." Simon Williams, once known as Wonder Man to many of the heroes gathered, had long thought he would never see such a gathering of heroes and friends. From his perspective, they had all long perished from the moment the Martians invaded his Earth. He continued the fight as Hollywood, a being of ionic strength and durability, but time itself had even taken its toll on one so mighty.
"That is impossible," Swordsman spoke. "But then again, I was on the verge of dying and here I stand." Jacques Duquesne words spoke true, as he was plucked from the moment where he would be the first Avenger to die in service of the team.
"The ebbs of time cannot be fully understood unless one views it from outside our physical dimension," Dr Druid said, as he hovered in the air while his legs maintained crossed in a lotus position. He had just betrayed the Avengers, manipulating them to a cause not of his own, while being flung through the center of time itself until winning a battle which landed him back in his timeline, only to be recruited into service.
Kevin Connor's eye wandered to everyone around him. The last thing he remembered was just being a normal college student. Every thing else was hazy, just a big blur of white in his memory, making him question everything currently happening. "Did the floating guy make any sense to anyone here?"
"The face before this one I know all too well," Mantis replied. "This one is always hesitant, especially with the revelation that he is also Kang, but Mantis somehow feels that Mantis should stay amongst you gathered." She spoke softly, grateful that her love stood whole next to her, yet angry staring directly at a Kang. She was trained by the Priest of Pama in ways of mind and body, but also of the workings of the universe as she held the title of the Celestial Madonna.