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Time: start of August 2025
My name is still Tony Faye, I’m still thirty years old, and I still live in Jessup, Maryland.
I was flipping pancakes with one hand and pouring orange juice with the other. There was jazz playing low in the background — that old-school kind with horns and grit — and Arianna was on the couch trying to beat my high score on Tony Kart Galactic.
“You know you can’t drift worth a damn, right?” I called out, flipping the next pancake.
“Shut up and serve breakfast, wise guy,” she shot back, not looking up from the controller. “I’m in the zone.”
I laughed and shook my head. After everything — the portals, the fights for the omniverse, the evil scientists and world-ending weapons — we were finally back home. Jessup, Maryland. Earth. Safe. Boring. Perfect.
“You ever think about taking a real vacation?” she asked as I dropped a hot plate in front of her. “Like... beach, umbrellas, no orcs?”
“We were on the beach once. Remember what happened?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Right. Giant space beast. How could I forget.”
We ate in peace. No alarms. No magic artifacts. No screaming soldiers or war drums in the sky.
And yet...
Something gnawed at me. A pull in the air. Like the first faint tremble before a storm.
Later that day, I stood out in front of the house, sipping from a bottle of root beer, staring up at the clouds.
That’s when my wristband lit up — a glowing glyph in emerald.
I tapped it.
“Message from Solberry Command,” a voice said. “Unknown broadcasts traced to deep space. Signature anomaly… name pinged: Nova Cage.”
“Nova who?” I muttered.
I turned and saw Arianna step out, her Vans scraping the concrete.
“Who’s calling?” she asked.
I showed her the wristband.
“Someone new.”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Let me guess. We just finished saving the omniverse, and now it’s time to save it again.”
“You know how the song goes.”
“Then let’s make some noise.”
The camera of our lives panned up — two best friends on a suburban sidewalk, the cosmos already stirring above them.
And somewhere, in a place without stars…
Nova Cage smiled.
We were airborne in the Faye’s Sledgehammer before noon, cutting through Earth’s stratosphere like a blade through silk. The ship thrummed beneath us, clean and smooth, like it knew the rhythm of this dance.
Arianna leaned back in the co-pilot seat, arms folded behind her head.
“So. Nova Cage. Sounds like a rejected wrestler name.”
“Or a synth-pop band from 1987,” I added. “Playing one night only on the moons of Saturn.”
“Opening act: the Galactic Shakedown.”
We both cracked up. It felt good. Light. After months of darkness and blood, even this subtle peace tasted like a feast.
“Where are we going first?” she asked.
“Solberry,” I said. “They’re trying to triangulate the anomaly.”
“You sure we’re not just doing this so you can show off your haircut?”
“Hey, this fade took time.”
“Time we could’ve used practicing your flying.”
I side-eyed her. “I land this ship perfectly.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You landed us in a lake once.”
“It was a controlled submersion.”
“You screamed the whole time.”
“Battle cry.”
“You yelled, ‘OH GOD OH NO.’”
I didn’t respond. Just grinned and turned my focus to the stars.
The ship hummed as we entered Solberry’s space lane. The green-blue world spun calmly ahead, her towers catching the sunlight like blades of glass.
We landed on one of the rebuilt landing platforms outside Archer’s Landing. The Castle of the Gargantuan stood just beyond, massive and proud.
As we exited the ship, a young Republic officer saluted.
“Tony. Arianna. Welcome back.”
“No parades today?” Arianna asked.
“Not unless you brought cake.”
“We should’ve brought cake,” I muttered.
Inside, we were led to a side chamber. Clean. White marble floors. A low table stacked with relics and intel slates. And standing over it—
A hologram.
Flickering. Faint. But clear.
A mask.
Chrome. Angular. Almost beautiful.
Eyes like frozen suns.
A voice crackled beneath it. Smooth. Controlled.
“I am Nova Cage,” it said. “I’ve seen your little wars. I’ve watched you burn galaxies and stitch them back together like children with tape. But I am not here to fight.”
It leaned forward.
“I’m here to replace you.”
The hologram vanished.
Arianna stood there for a long second.
“Okay,” she said. “So… that’s ominous.”
“More than ominous,” I replied. “That was a declaration.”
“Of what?”
“Of war.”
We looked at each other. The weight hadn’t hit yet. It was still light enough to joke about.
But behind our eyes, we both knew—
This wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
We spent the night in one of the guest chambers at the Castle of the Gargantuan — big room, tall windows, marble floors so clean you could see your soul in 'em. The beds were like clouds, the kind of luxury that almost made you forget you were in the middle of a galactic cold war.
Almost.
I couldn’t sleep. My mind kept replaying that voice.
“I’m here to replace you.”
Nova Cage. The name echoed in my skull like a low war drum. Not angry. Not loud. Just constant. Cold.
I sat by the window, hoodie up, sipping a mug of lukewarm tea someone left behind. Arianna was knocked out on the couch, snoring softly, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito.
She stirred.
“You’re doing the brooding thing again,” she mumbled without opening her eyes.
“It’s my brand.”
“You could try sleeping.”
“Tried. Brain’s on fire.”
She sat up, rubbing her face. “Alright, fine. Let’s talk. What’s eating you?”
I sighed and leaned back.
“It’s not just Nova. It’s the way he said it. Like we’re just… placeholders. Like the fight we fought — all of it — was just a prologue to whatever he’s bringing.”
“You think he’s bluffing?”
“No. That voice doesn’t bluff. That voice plans.”
She stood, grabbed the tea from my hand, and took a long sip.
“Then we find him before he replaces anybody.”
By morning, we were back aboard the Faye’s Sledgehammer, engine coils humming low and calm. Solberry Command had decrypted part of the signal. The source wasn’t a planet — not entirely.
It was a refitted mining rig floating in the debris field of a long-dead star. No known crew. No registered coordinates. Off the maps.
Perfect place for a shadow to grow.
As we broke through the jump gate, the Sledgehammer dropped out of hyperspace and there it was: a rusted titan of a ship, drifting above a glowing purple star remnant. Massive drilling claws still attached. Power signature minimal — but something was on in there. Something faint. Something alive.
“Creepy,” Arianna said.
“You love creepy.”
“I tolerate creepy. I love vintage bookstores and stabbing bad guys.”
We docked.
A long, narrow corridor welcomed us. The walls were scorched. The lights flickered. Something had happened here — a long time ago.
“No signs of life,” I said, tapping my scanner. “But we’re not alone.”
“That’s not ominous at all.”
We crept deeper. Into the heart of the station.
And there, in the central data chamber, was a monument.
Not to a man.
Not to a people.
To an idea.
Nova Cage.
His name, etched in twenty languages.
“Oh no,” Arianna muttered. “He’s got a fan club.”
I reached for a glowing orb on the pedestal. The moment my fingers touched it, the entire chamber lit up.
And a projection appeared.
Nova.
Same chrome mask. Same voice.
“Welcome, seekers. I hoped you'd find this place. Because only those who remember the old wars are worthy of witnessing the new.”
The projection leaned in.
“You thought the final battle was behind you. But history doesn’t end… it resets.”
“Hell no,” I whispered.
The projection flickered… and turned to look at us.
“See you soon.”
Then the rig began to shake.
Arianna looked at me. “We’re leaving, right?”
“Faster than last time.”
We ran like hell.
We barely made it out of the rig before it went up in a blaze of violet flame.
The blast rippled across the dark side of space, silent but immense. The Faye’s Sledgehammer held firm, shields humming with heat, systems groaning.
Arianna sat beside me, fingers white-knuckled on the controls. "Well. That escalated."
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Someone wanted us to see that. And live.”
“You think it was a trap?”
“I think it was an invitation.”
Meanwhile, across the far reaches of the Andronic Vortex — in a realm beyond normal spacetime — a citadel of gleaming silver hovered over a dead planet. A fortress carved from the bones of stars.
And inside it, Nova Cage stood before his army.
Tall. Slender. All power and grace.
His skin shimmered like polished chrome, but it was no armor — it was him. Silver, smooth, and ageless.
In his right hand: a katana etched with golden runes.
In his left: an obsidian spear that pulsed with a heartbeat of its own.
And behind him — tens of thousands of silver-plated soldiers, motionless, waiting.
Not droids. Not clones.
Converted.
Former knights. Wizards. Mercs. Soldiers. All re-forged in Nova’s image.
Their armor hummed with arcane energy. Their eyes glowed like cold suns.
Nova raised the spear and walked into the center of a great hall — a cathedral of war. Screens flickered. Tactical maps spun like spells. A digital projection of the omniverse unfolded before him, alive with stars.
“They escaped the message rig,” one of the captains reported. “The Faye and the Demigoddess.”
Nova didn’t blink.
“Good,” he said, voice smooth as smoke. “They will carry my legend forward. They always do.”
He stepped toward the edge of the command dais.
“Begin deployment. Phase One. Send the Vanguard.”
“Where, my lord?”
“Earth,” Nova said, calmly. “Solberry. Tonyworld.”
“And the lesser realms?”
He looked to the stars.
“All of them.”
With a flick of his hand, dozens of warships powered up — silver, sleek, monstrous. The hum of magic and tech sang in unison.
Nova turned and slowly unsheathed his katana. It rang like a bell from the end of time.
“Let them resist,” he said softly. “Resistance is the root of myth. And myth… is the fuel of gods.”
Back in the Sledgehammer, Arianna looked over at me.
“Do you feel that?”
I stared out at the stars — and felt it.
Not fear. Not yet.
But something deeper.
A presence.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “He’s here.”
We touched down on Solberry just after dawn. The air was still cool, the sky glowing orange above the city spires of Archer’s Landing. Everything looked peaceful, calm — but it felt like standing in the eye of something big.
The moment our boots hit the landing platform, a scout from the Solberry Republic sprinted to us.
“Tony. Arianna.” He was out of breath, sweat gleaming on his forehead. “Artemisia requests your presence. Immediately. It’s urgent.”
“Lead the way,” I said.
“Isn’t it always?” Arianna added, brushing dust off her leggings.
We moved through the castle fast — halls of shining stone, banners hanging tall, sunlight hitting ancient murals of gods, monsters, and battles long past.
But today wasn’t about the past.
Today was about now.
Artemisia stood tall in the War Room, surrounded by shimmering maps and glowing sigils that hovered mid-air. Her raven-black hair was tied back, and her blue eyes were locked on a star chart glowing red.
She turned the moment we entered.
“You’ve seen him,” she said.
“Nova Cage,” I replied.
“The Silver Warlock,” Arianna added. “He’s… something else.”
Artemisia nodded gravely.
“I’ve felt this energy before,” she said, voice steady. “Not him, exactly — but the kind of ancient arrogance he carries. It doesn’t come from this age.”
“Where does it come from?” I asked.
“Something older than even the Omniversal Wars,” she answered. “He’s gathering power fast. And his soldiers… they’re not just armor and steel. They’re people twisted by arcane conversion. They can’t be reasoned with.”
“Then we don’t waste time talking,” Arianna said.
Artemisia waved her hand. The sigils shifted, zooming in on several points — Earth. Solberry. Tonyworld. Other stars. All blinking red.
“He’s moving quickly. I need you two to be faster.”
“What’s the plan?” I asked.
She stepped closer to us — regal, commanding.
“Return to Earth. Rally what allies you can. The Justice League has already been contacted. Clarissa Vale’s en route. Faye-Archer has begun diplomatic summons to the Elves of Rivendell and Mirkwood, and to the Dwarves of Erebor. Cyclops is awakening the X-Men. Armies across time and space are hearing the call.”
“You’re pulling out the legacy playbook,” I said.
“This is a legacy war now,” Artemisia replied. “If Nova Cage wants myth, he’s about to get it.”
“What about you?” Arianna asked.
“I stay here. The Castle of the Gargantuan must be protected. It will serve as the last bastion if the worst comes.”
I looked at Arianna.
She looked at me.
We both nodded.
“Guess we’re going home again,” I said.
“Let’s bring the old crew back together.”
We left the War Room and stepped back into the sunlight. The wind picked up just a little. Banners flapped hard. I swore the stars above shimmered more than usual.
A storm was coming.
And this time, the entire galaxy would be watching.
The return to Earth hit different this time.
Not because of the danger. Not because of the shadow in the stars. But because everything looked the same. It was jarring. Like walking into your childhood home after twenty years of war.
The Faye’s Sledgehammer broke through Earth’s atmosphere at sunset. The clouds parted with a warm glow, and Jessup, Maryland appeared beneath us like a memory you’re not sure is real until it punches you in the chest.
“Still smells like fried food and bad decisions,” Arianna said from the co-pilot seat.
“Home sweet home,” I replied.
We landed behind my house — the ship’s cloaking field kicking in as soon as we powered down. The old neighborhood stood quiet, like it hadn’t noticed the world had nearly ended… again.
I stepped onto the grass and took a deep breath. That mix of Earth humidity, cut lawns, and gasoline. A summer breeze blew in and for a second, I felt like I was 19 again.
“Do you want to knock, or just walk in like a legend?” Arianna teased.
“A legend has keys.” I held them up.
She snorted. “You have one key. And it’s to the mailbox.”
The inside of the house was still ours. Dusty. Lived-in. Honest. The living room smelled like old carpet and warm nostalgia. Our stuff was still where we left it. I collapsed onto the couch, kicking my Chucks off.
“I’m making cereal,” I said.
“Tony. It’s almost dark.”
“And?”
“Cereal at night is chaos.”
“Exactly. We live in chaos. We fight interdimensional despots. Let me have my damn Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”
She laughed and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard her grab a soda. Something fizzed.
“Hey,” she called, “if I drink the last cherry cola, are we still best friends?”
“You’ll be haunted by me forever.”
“Worth it.”
We didn’t talk about Nova Cage that night.
We didn’t talk about armies or war or the end of things.
We played some old fighting games. We watched an episode of Batman: The Animated Series. Arianna fell asleep with her feet on the coffee table. I stayed up a bit longer, watching the sky through the living room window.
The stars looked peaceful. But I knew they were lying.
I woke up late.
Arianna was already downstairs, frying eggs and bacon like it was Sunday morning 2012.
“Don’t say it,” she warned.
“Say what?”
“Don’t say ‘domestic bliss.’”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Liar.”
I grinned and flopped into a chair.
Then the wristband on my arm lit up — a soft emerald pulse.
“Incoming message,” a voice chimed. “Nova Cage has mobilized a fleet. Outer Rim defense stations have gone dark. No survivors.”
Arianna stared at me.
“So it begins,” she said quietly.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “It really does.”
We finished our food in silence. Then we stood up and grabbed our gear — parkas, swords, my lucky switchblade, her shoulder rig.
We stepped outside.
The grass was still green.
But the sky no longer felt safe.
The alert hit us just after noon.
I was outside with Arianna, kicking back in a pair of lawn chairs, sipping a ginger ale like the world wasn’t about to collapse again.
“Is it weird,” she asked, “that I keep expecting something to explode?”
“You’re not wrong,” I said. “We just don’t know where it’ll explode first.”
Then my comm buzzed.
“This is Command — Faye, Reynolds, report: Jungle moon colony on Harlon-6 is under siege. Repeat, under siege. It’s Nova.”
I locked eyes with Arianna.
“It’s started.”
Harlon-6 was a paradise moon. Dense emerald jungles. Blue waterfalls. A peaceful science outpost hidden under the trees.
Now it was smoke.
The Faye’s Sledgehammer dropped through the atmosphere fast, its engines howling. Beneath us, giant plumes of flame pierced the jungle canopy. Silver-plated soldiers moved like a plague across the landscape — elegant, efficient, merciless.
We landed on a scorched helipad.
The second we touched down, a young medic ran up to us — face covered in ash, blood on her sleeves.
“They came from the clouds,” she panted. “They didn’t speak. They just… took.”
“How many survivors?” Arianna asked.
“A few dozen. We’ve been hiding in the tunnels beneath the outpost. They’re hunting us.”
“They won’t get far,” I said, unsheathing Dairy Wizard.
Arianna drew her broadsword.
We moved like lightning — into the jungle, into the fight.
The Silver Soldiers weren’t just brutes. They were graceful, like dancers dipped in steel. They moved as one, like they were wired into a single mind.
But we’d danced before.
I hurled spells — arcs of emerald flame slicing through the trees. Arianna crashed through their flank like a storm of iron and rage. One swipe from her sword and three of them folded like paper.
They tried to flank.
We burned them.
They tried to encircle.
I summoned a wall of silver lightning and threw it through their ranks.
“You know,” Arianna shouted over the chaos, “they don’t scream.”
“Creepy, right?”
“I hate it.”
We found the survivors. Led them out. The tunnels collapsed behind us — booby-trapped, pre-rigged. They didn’t just want to win.
They wanted to erase.
As the last evac ship cleared the canopy, the jungle moon burned behind us like a funeral pyre.
I looked out the viewport of the Sledgehammer and tightened my grip on the controls.
“He’s coming,” I said.
“To Earth?” Arianna asked.
I nodded once.
“Next target.”
We barely got back into orbit when the comm crackled again.
“This is Earth Command. Confirm: We have incoming. A fleet. Silver ships. Dozens. They’ve crossed the Mars perimeter. ETA twenty minutes.”
My heart stopped. Then started again — burning.
Arianna stood beside me.
“Then we go home,” she said.
“And we hold the line.”
We hit hyperspace.
Earth was next.
We dropped out of hyperspace and Earth filled the viewport like a memory reborn. Blue, green, glowing. Our home.
But it wasn’t alone.
Above Earth, space burned.
Dozens — no, hundreds — of silver warships circled the planet like vultures. Nova’s fleet had arrived. Smooth, angular vessels, all glistening with a mirrored sheen, drifting through the stars like they owned the place.
They didn’t speak.
They didn’t warn.
They opened fire.
“Shields up, now!” I barked.
The Faye’s Sledgehammer spun as bright bolts of silver plasma flew past. Arianna was already at the co-pilot seat, flicking switches, activating cannons.
“We’re outnumbered, outgunned, and out of our minds,” she said with a grin.
“Story of our damn lives.”
Then—they arrived.
The stars behind us split open.
From the far corners of the omniverse, they came in waves — the legacy warriors.
First came the Justice League, their flagship warship cutting through the darkness, its hull blazing with the sigil of unity. Superman, cape rippling in the vacuum. Wonder Woman, sword drawn. Batman, standing still as shadow.
Then, from the western quadrant, a fleet of X-Men warships arrived — led by Cyclops, visor glowing like a second sun. Storm summoned lightning across the void, riding the wind even where no air existed. Wolverine locked and loaded, claws out.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” I muttered.
“Look!” Arianna gasped.
To our left, the Elves of Rivendell and Mirkwood emerged aboard moon-forged vessels, arrows already nocked and glowing with enchantment. Graceful and deadly.
From below, the Dwarves of Erebor and the Iron Hills launched hammer-shaped dreadnoughts — chunky, loud, full of firepower.
And then—Clarissa Vale.
Her command ship — black and gold, shaped like a blade of judgment — tore through Nova’s formation like it was nothing. She stood on the bridge, eyes locked forward, her voice ringing through all allied comms.
“This is Clarissa Vale. Hold your ground. No silver tyrant will take this world.”
“What do we do?” Arianna asked, eyes wide.
I grinned like a lunatic and threw the Sledgehammer into gear.
“We lead the charge.”
We dove into the fire.
All around us, chaos — starfighters twisted in dogfights, warships exchanging volleys of magic and tech. Elven arrows streaked through vacuum. X-Men charged across enemy hulls like meteors.
The sky roared.
I blasted through a formation of enemy fighters, flipping us sideways and letting Arianna fire twin cannons into a carrier’s engines.
“That was close!” she yelled.
“I’m always close!”
Nova’s forces were relentless. But we had something they didn’t — legacy. Rage. Hope.
“This isn’t their galaxy,” I said through clenched teeth. “It never was.”
And just when we thought the tide might turn, one final ship arrived.
A sleek green and gold cruiser. From it, stepping onto the battlefield like he owned it—
“Faye-Archer,” I whispered.
He appeared mid-battle, riding a broomstick that launched from his vessel like a lightning bolt. Laughing. Sword out. Eyes blazing.
“Sorry I’m late!” he shouted. “Traffic was hell!”
“What took you so long?” Arianna grinned.
“Had to comb my hair!”
He flew past us and crashed through a fighter, spinning with pure chaos.
“Now it’s a party,” I said.
The Battle Above Earth had begun.
And we weren’t backing down.
If Earth had ears, it would’ve gone deaf.
The battle above the planet was fury incarnate. Blazing lights streaked across the black like war-born fireworks. The Faye’s Sledgehammer twisted through them, cutting impossible turns, plasma bolts ricocheting off our shields. Every second, another explosion.
“They just keep coming!” Arianna shouted, firing both forward cannons at once.
“So do we!” I yelled back. “We’re just louder!”
To our right, an elven cruiser tore a silver destroyer clean in half. Below, a Dwarven hammer-class dreadnought crashed into a Nova warship like a meteor of vengeance.
Then Faye-Archer’s voice came through on all comms.
“Sledgehammer, this is Archer-One. I’m boarding.”
“You’re what?” I barked.
“You heard me. Nova’s got a command ship — big, ugly, full of secrets. I’m bringing a welcoming party.”
Arianna and I looked at each other.
“He’s serious, isn’t he?” she asked.
“He’s Faye-Archer. He’s never serious. That’s what makes him dangerous.”
I pulled the Sledgehammer alongside Archer-One, his smaller, sleeker ship. On his viewscreen, he was grinning like a kid with a stolen grenade.
“I’ve got elves, I’ve got dwarves, I’ve got one pissed-off Martian, and a Jedi Knight who hasn’t spoken in six decades.”
“You’re flying a circus,” Arianna said.
“It’s not a circus.” He winked. “It’s a strike team.”
He nodded toward the distant vessel — Nova’s command ship, obsidian and steel, bristling with cannons, shields shimmering with ethereal light.
“Going in through the hangar bay. Keep them busy out here, will ya?”
“Try not to get killed,” I said.
“Only if it’s poetic.”
And then — boom — he was gone, plunging headfirst into the lion’s throat.
While Faye-Archer made his mad dash for glory, we kept the skies blazing.
A wave of silver-plated fighters locked onto us.
“Evasive!” Arianna shouted.
I banked hard left — stars spinning. Twin engines screamed. The Sledgehammer danced through wreckage and flame like a demon on rollerblades.
“Three on our tail!” she said. “Give me an angle!”
I dropped altitude, spun through the debris field of a shattered cruiser, then pulled vertical. She fired blind — bullseye. One down.
Two more still tailing.
“Try something stupid!” she yelled.
“I’m always trying something stupid!”
I hit the retro-thrusters, and the ship jerked back hard. The enemy fighters zoomed past.
“Now!” I screamed.
Arianna hit both rear cannons and turned them into molten scrap.
Then came the voice.
Faye-Archer, breathless, half-laughing, half-wheezing.
“I’m in. Big damn corridor. Silver walls. Smells like robot armpit.”
“Find the power core,” I said. “Shut that bastard down.”
“You got it. Also found a room full of… eggs?”
“What kind of eggs?”
“Don’t wanna know.”
He cut off.
Suddenly, the command ship lit up — a golden pulse racing across its surface.
“What was that?” Arianna asked.
“Nova knows.”
And then — a new wave of fighters launched.
Bigger. Heavier. Faster.
“We hold until Archer gets out,” I said, gripping the controls tight.
“Or we go in after him,” she replied.
I nodded.
“Then let’s make some noise.”
And so we did.
With the sky ablaze and the world watching, we tore through the stars.
Heroes on fire.
The second Nova’s silver dreadnought broke through the upper atmosphere, I felt it in my bones. The air pressure shifted. The clouds turned gray. Birds scattered.
And somewhere on Earth?
The ground wept.
“We’ve got boots inbound,” Arianna called out, scanning the skies. “Or whatever they have for boots.”
The first wave hit Jessup like an earthquake — clank, clank, thud — as silver-plated soldiers dropped like metallic meteors into streets and rooftops. They moved without sound, their eyes glowing with that eerie amethyst hue. Robotic limbs. Smooth armor. Cold precision.
“And here I thought we’d have lunch,” I muttered, pulling Dairy Wizard from its sheath.
“Next time, we schedule war around your appetite.”
“You say that every week.”
Then, from the western horizon, thunder cracked — but not from a storm.
It came from a LEGO Quinjet.
I blinked.
“No way.”
“Are those—”
“Oh yeah.”
The LEGO Avengers dropped in like tiny divine hammers of justice.
LEGO Captain America rolled off the jet with his shield raised.
“LET'S KICK SOME BRICK!” he yelled.
Behind him, LEGO Thor came crashing down with a clap of thunder and a soundbite straight from 2012.
“Another!”
LEGO Iron Man hovered overhead, pixel-perfect repulsor beams firing from his minifig palms.
“Earth is under my airspace now, boys.”
“Did we… just get saved by toys?” Arianna asked.
“They’re not toys.” I smirked. “They’re legends.”
Then, the ground opened again.
A LEGO Batwing sliced through the sky and LEGO Batman flipped into action.
“I’m Batman. Also, this isn’t my first brick rodeo.”
Behind him, LEGO Wonder Woman lassoed two silver soldiers and yeeted them into a dumpster.
LEGO Flash blitzed past in literal frames-per-second.
“I got this. I got this. I got this. I got thi—WHOA—” Crash!
“Okay,” Arianna muttered, “this is actually awesome.”
We joined the fight.
I slashed through a silver brute with Dairy Wizard, sparks flying as steel met spell-forged blade. Arianna danced between enemy lines, her broadsword swinging wide, felling two soldiers at once.
“Tony, six o’clock!”
I spun, magic bursting from my palms. A blast of emerald energy sent three bots flying back into a mailbox.
“Sorry, USPS!”
The LEGO Justice League worked in tandem — tiny yet devastating.
LEGO Superman lifted an entire tank and tossed it into the Chesapeake Bay.
“Up, up, and into orbit.”
LEGO Hawkeye fired three arrows at once — two missed, one hit a rogue trash can.
“Still counts!” he called.
But then—Nova spoke.
His voice cut through all comms, all minds.
“You fight with plastic. You fight with memory. I fight with eternity.”
And in that moment, his true army emerged — giant obsidian constructs stomping across Earth’s surface, firing dark beams of corrupted magic.
“Oh no,” I muttered. “He sent the Anathemas.”
“What do we do?” Arianna asked.
“Same thing we always do.”
I grabbed her hand, pulled her up onto the nearest rooftop, and faced the towering enemy.
“We bring the pain.”
The LEGO heroes rallied behind us, miniature weapons raised.
Earth stood united — bricks, blades, and blood.
And the war was just beginning.
The Faye’s Sledgehammer soared through Earth’s atmosphere, skimming clouds as the battle below and above churned like a storm without end.
I sat in the cockpit, fists clenched on the controls, eyes focused, heart racing.
Arianna sat next to me, hair pulled back, face smudged with smoke and fire. Her blade was resting across her lap. Her breathing was calm, but I knew her soul was vibrating just like mine.
We were dressed like shadows — me in my usual black-on-black bamboo tees and sweatpants, Chucks laced tight. Arianna rocked one of my old oversized tees with yoga pants and her worn-in Vans. Comfortable, free, and ready to fight like hell.
“He’s up there,” she said, her hazel eyes fixed on the stars. “Watching. Waiting.”
“He’s scared,” I replied. “That’s why he’s hiding behind metal and soldiers and magic. He knows what’s coming.”
“And what’s coming?”
“Everyone.”
Meanwhile, aboard Nova’s Command Ship...
Nova Cage stood in the center of his obsidian throne room — a circular chamber pulsing with violet light and lined with whispering runes from a dead language. His silver skin glistened under the glow. His obsidian spear hovered beside him, humming with energy.
In front of him stood a massive holomap of the omniverse. Earth blinked red. Paxalor blinked purple. Solberry pulsed gold.
Nova’s voice rumbled across his ship like a slow-moving avalanche.
“They are gathering. And so will I.”
He waved a hand.
Dozens of silver generals — soldiers, witches, machine-augmented creatures — stood at attention. Silent. Obedient.
“Send the Anathemas to Rivendell. Wipe out the last Treeborn. Burn the archives of Erebor. Mute the last stars above Earth.”
He narrowed his glowing eyes.
“And find me the Demigod Princess and her companion. Bring me their heads.”
Back aboard the Sledgehammer…
“We need more than a battle,” I muttered. “We need a reckoning.”
Arianna turned to me.
“You’re thinking of calling in every realm.”
“Every one that still breathes.”
She smiled, the kind of smile that could slice a god in half.
“Then let’s do it.”
I activated the Quantum Beacon, a silver pyramid hidden in the Sledgehammer’s command deck — a relic from the Solberry Vaults.
“This is Tony Faye of Earth and Solberry. To all realms, timelines, dimensions, and echoes of resistance — this is your signal.”
I looked at Arianna.
“Let’s finish the message.”
We spoke together, voices firm:
“The time has come. Rise from your halls. Leave your tombs. Cross the stars. War has come. And Earth stands defiant. Join us. Stand with us. Fight back.”
The signal echoed outward, across space, time, and legend.
From the ruins of Old Asgard, warrior spirits awoke.
From the cities of New Krypton, red-caped figures turned their heads to the stars.
From the deep forests of Tonyworld, druids raised their staffs and cast their wards.
From the high peaks of Solberry, ancient dragons stirred and took flight.
Even the shadowed gates of Themyscira opened.
A booming roar echoed across the omniverse — not from a beast, but from hope.
Arianna looked at me, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.
“You really think we can win?”
I looked at the blinking stars filling the nav screen. One by one, the lights of allies began to pulse.
“We’re not alone anymore.”
“Then let’s bring the fire.”
I stood in front of the cockpit mirror, eyeing myself.
My hair? Picked out to perfection. My afro stood tall and proud, my black afro pick jammed in with the gold fist handle shining like a crown. My two plain black bamboo tees layered smooth, sweatpants crisp, and the black and white Chucks double-knotted. No armor. No cape. Just power. Just me.
Arianna walked in behind me, her blonde hair wild and loose, draped across her shoulders like golden waves. No ponytail. No braid. Just raw, untamed chaos in motion. She wore one of my old oversized black tees and black yoga pants like it was battlewear forged in legend. Her Vans scuffed, but ready.
She looked me up and down and smirked.
“You look like you’re about to host a soul concert and burn a spaceship down.”
“That’s exactly the vibe.”
“And I…?”
“You look like a goddess who woke up, said ‘no,’ and wrecked the moon.”
We bumped fists, tight and silent.
The nav beeped. Nova’s command ship loomed ahead like a dead star with teeth.
Elsewhere...
Faye-Archer slammed a silver soldier into a wall, breathing hard.
“Hold the flank!” he yelled as an elven archer loosed arrows behind him.
A hammer-wielding dwarf screamed beside him, bashing another enemy into scrap.
“This ship’s a graveyard!” the dwarf shouted.
“Yeah,” Faye-Archer replied, dodging plasma fire, “and we’re the ghosts.”
They pushed deeper — toward the heart. A dark corridor opened up. Cold. Too quiet.
And then...
Nova.
He stepped out from the shadows, obsidian spear in hand, katana at his back, his silver skin glowing with hatred.
“Fools,” he said, voice like thunder whispering. “You tread upon a god’s breath.”
Faye-Archer froze. So did the rest of the strike team.
One of the warriors tried to lunge.
Nova didn’t even move. The air around the soldier twisted, and the man crumpled.
Faye-Archer swallowed.
“...Yeah, we’re leaving.”
They ran.
Back in the Faye’s Sledgehammer...
“Strike team’s pulling back,” Arianna said, checking the comms.
“Nova’s there,” I said. “He’s waiting.”
“And so are we.”
I pulled the Sledgehammer into a tight spin and locked onto the command ship’s hangar bay.
“Let’s knock.”
We blasted through the barrier — sparks, debris, the smell of metal and fire. The hangar roared to life, alarms blaring, turrets activating.
“Time to dance,” Arianna said.
“Then lead, milady.”
We leapt from the cockpit.
I landed hard, rolling into a strike — Dairy Wizard slicing through the first silver soldier. Arianna flipped beside me, broadsword flashing like a sunburst.
“Tony,” she shouted, “this is suicide!”
“No,” I growled, blasting a wave of fire from my palm, “this is justice.”
We moved like gods among machines. I conjured spectral chains and hurled them at a mech-knight. Arianna stabbed through a war-golem’s core and kicked its head off.
“We find Nova,” I said, breathing heavy.
“And then?”
“Then we end this.”
The corridor ahead pulsed with violet light.
We stepped in.
Nova was somewhere inside this tomb of steel.
And we were here to bury him.
The Faye’s Sledgehammer thudded down into the hangar like a falling meteor. Metal shrieked under her hull as sparks flew off the landing gear. Inside the cockpit, everything rattled, but Arianna didn’t even flinch. I tightened my grip on the throttle, breathing slow. Focused. Ready.
“We touch down, we keep it quiet,” I said. “We don’t need the whole army on us.”
“Too late,” Arianna muttered, nodding toward the sensors. “Half the hangar’s already moving.”
I stood up, grabbed Dairy Wizard, and cracked my neck.
“Then we go loud.”
We dropped the ramp.
The hangar was massive — silver-plated walls gleaming with static magic, runes glowing red-hot. Soldiers patrolled in perfect formations, their heads snapping toward us the second we stepped out.
“Showtime,” I whispered.
The first wave charged. I raised both hands and cast a blast of kinetic force, throwing a dozen of them into the air. Arianna slid low, cleaving through the ankles of a war-knight before flipping up and headbutting another in the chin. Blood and sparks.
We fought like shadows with teeth, dancing through steel and flame.
Then we saw him.
Nova Cage.
He dropped from the upper deck like a silver comet, landing in a crouch with his obsidian spear in one hand and katana in the other. His eyes locked onto us — those glowing, unnatural slits full of hate and eternity.
“You’ve come far,” he said, standing tall. “But not far enough.”
He moved fast. Too fast.
I barely raised Dairy Wizard in time to block his katana — the clang echoed like a bell across hell’s rafters. Arianna charged, slashing with her broadsword, but Nova twisted, catching it with the spear and knocking her flat.
He backhanded me across the jaw and I hit the ground, rolling.
“You fight with passion,” Nova hissed. “But passion fades.”
“So does your breath,” I spat, “once I cave in your chest.”
I launched a fireball. Arianna followed it with a shoulder charge.
Nova vanished in smoke.
We staggered to our feet, panting. My lip was bleeding. Arianna’s shirt was torn at the shoulder.
“He’s running,” she said. “Coward.”
“He’s heading for the escape pods.”
We sprinted through the corridor, slicing down soldiers as they poured from side hatches. A wave of silver-plated troops rushed us. Arianna screamed and hurled her blade — it spun like a wheel of death, cutting through three before returning to her hand.
I dropped to one knee, planted my palm, and summoned a wall of spectral spikes — impaling six enemies.
We charged through the breach.
Up ahead, Nova was at the pod controls, typing in escape coordinates.
“Not today,” I growled.
We tackled him just before the hatch closed. He lashed out with the spear, cutting my arm. Arianna caught the blade of his katana with her bare hand and punched him so hard he hit the bulkhead.
“You want out?” she barked. “Then crawl.”
Nova tried to rise.
I hit him with a wave of raw magic that pinned him to the wall. Sparks danced around him as his armor cracked.
“You’re not a god,” I told him. “You’re just another tyrant with a story that ends in blood.”
Nova screamed, pulling against the spell. But Arianna jammed her sword through the floor beside him, crackling with enchanted steel.
“Stay down,” she growled.
He finally slumped, breathing hard.
“You think this is victory?” he rasped. “You’ve delayed the inevitable.”
“No,” I said, standing over him. “We rewrote it.”
We cuffed him in enchanted manacles from Solberry and dragged his broken, snarling self back toward the Sledgehammer.
Nova Cage was done.
But the war?
It was far from over.
The Faye’s Sledgehammer pierced Solberry’s upper atmosphere like a dagger tearing through silk. The skies above Archer’s Landing were scorched black, still reeling from the battle that shook the stars. Below, the lights of the Castle of the Gargantuan blinked to life.
We landed hard.
The ramp lowered, steam and smoke trailing behind us.
Arianna and I stepped off first. We were quiet. Focused. I held Nova Cage by a thick enchanted chain wrapped tight around his neck and wrists, the links glowing with runes that burned his silver skin every time he resisted.
He was weak now.
Broken.
But still defiant.
“You could rule with me,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, cracked. “You don’t have to serve anyone. You could burn the realms down and build them better.”
“Better?” I repeated. “You turned galaxies into mass graves.”
“You call that power?” Arianna snapped. “That’s fear. And fear is a leash. We don’t wear those.”
We reached the courtyard gates. The people were waiting.
Hundreds of citizens of Solberry, warriors from Tonyworld, survivors from Earth. Elves. Dwarves. Humans. Even a few gods. All of them gathered beneath the twin banners of the Solberry Republic and the Tonyworld Empire.
On the high steps stood Queen Artemisia, her war-cloak billowing, blue eyes like frostfire, her greatsword strapped across her back.
“Bring him forward,” she said, voice ringing with divine judgment.
We did.
Nova was forced to kneel.
He looked up at Artemisia, and for the first time… his eyes flinched.
“Nova Cage,” she said. “You’ve committed atrocities across realities. You’ve enslaved worlds, slaughtered billions, and brought the omniverse to the edge of extinction. What say you now?”
He coughed blood, spit it at the ground.
“You’ll all fall eventually,” he sneered. “You just don’t know it yet.”
“We’ve heard enough,” I said.
“Way too much,” Arianna added.
Artemisia raised one hand. Her blade appeared — a flash of light, heavier than judgment itself.
“Nova Cage,” she declared, “Your reign ends here.”
She swung.
A single strike.
Clean. Final.
Nova Cage's head dropped to the stone with a heavy thud.
Silence blanketed the courtyard.
And then…
Lots of cheers. Deafening, thunderous, unstoppable cheers.
The people roared. The skies cracked with light. The evil was dead.
Later, after the crowd dispersed and the realm settled, Arianna and I stood on the balcony overlooking Solberry.
“It’s done,” she said softly.
“For now,” I replied.
We didn’t speak for a while.
Just stood there.
Breathing.
Alive.
The stars were soft that night.
We’d left Solberry with nothing but silence between us. No fanfare, no parades. Just a nod from Artemisia and the humming engine of the Faye’s Sledgehammer lifting off into the cosmos.
Arianna was asleep in the co-pilot’s seat, one arm over her face, the other clutching a half-eaten bag of hot fries. Her breathing was steady. The way it gets when she’s at peace. The way it should always be.
I looked at her and smiled.
“We made it,” I whispered.
The ship coasted through Earth’s atmosphere just before sunrise, the edges of the clouds kissed in gold. Below us, the quiet neighborhoods of Jessup, Maryland blinked like starlight trapped in windowpanes.
We landed behind my house like we’d done a hundred times before — smooth, low, no attention drawn. It was still mine. Untouched by Nova’s war. The grass a little high. The porch light still flickering.
I opened the door.
Smelled like home.
Arianna kicked off her Vans the second she stepped in.
“Your house smells like... old popcorn and shampoo.”
“That’s because I’m a mystery wrapped in comfort.”
She laughed and fell backward onto the couch.
“Tony?”
“Yeah?”
“I need, like... three days of pizza and cartoons.”
“Say no more.”
I put the kettle on. She grabbed the remote. And for a moment, there was no war. No omniverse. Just two weird best friends in a crooked house in Jessup, surrounded by old action figures and the scent of microwave burritos.
We didn’t say much that night.
We didn’t have to.
We were home.