My chest pounded with the intensity of a bass drum as I looked down into the pounding orange mouth that yawned before me. There was once more a demand for an act of faith—or, rather, another risk intellectually weighing among an illimited few. The door was the portal into the Absolute Universe, and beyond that stood possible rescue, not awful defeat. The world's fate rested heavily upon me, but only one thing could possibly make it lighter, and that was to find someone who could protect Earth for me—someone whose nature was as inexorable as this steel-reinforced concrete labyrinth that was the home I called my own.
I walked in, the fabric of the world stretching and popping along my skin like cosmic bubble wrap. The air was denser, the hues deeper—like the contrast level of the world had been turned up. The earth was solid under my orange boot-soled feet, the gravity close. Starving. I breathed in, the metallic sting of something not-of-my-world remaining. This was raw, rawer—everything a tougher, more concentrated iteration of the same. It was entering into a comic book drawn in some nutty visionary's hand—everything bolder, riskier.
And there she was. Pure, unadulterated Wonder Woman. A column of power in black and red, sparkling under the bright lights of an uncontrolled world. Her armor had never been made by the hands of man, but possibly the gods themselves—keen and invulnerable. The Godrend Blade at her belt was its own unspoken threat, its statement that it wouldn't do to cross her. She was that type of beauty that didn't just turn heads—rocked foundations. Her red eyes slitted when she regarded me, her back set. She didn't just stand—she took the space around her, a queen looking over her kingdom.
"Who are you?" It was a tempest in her voice, hurling at me waves of authority. It was an interrogation that shook the stars, but I confronted it with the assurance that comes with knowing you're the best in what you do.
"Bastion Prime. Protector of a second Earth, here to sign an intergalactic treaty with the multiverse's toughest broad." I growled, thick Chicago accent as thick as molasses, the words hanging in the air like a threat.
Her red eyes glared into me, a thousand battles' pressure bearing down upon them. "What deal?" she asked, question and mistrust intertwined.
The portal's orange light went dark, and we stood in an empty alley. The structures here were warped combinations of hi-tech steel and rotting ruin—a reminder of her world's turbulent history. The scent of rain-washed stone filled the air, mixed with the scent of ozone. "My world's in danger, Absolute WW. The Viltrumites are arriving, and I'm going to need someone to guard its six while I take down the Viltrumites. You've got the juice for that?"
Her gaze never flitted, but I could sense that she was listening because of the tiny shift she had when she eased forward over her blade. "The Viltrumites?" she repeated, her voice like thunder in the alley. "Why should I care about your world's battles?"
I moved a step closer, growling. "Because if you don't, then millions are going to be killed while I'm off fighting to keep 'em from taking over the entire galaxy. You're a hero, aren't you? This shouldn't mean nothing to you."
Her eyes narrowed, the red irises burning like molten stones under darkness. She didn't blink in responding to my assertion, but something stirred within their depths—a glimmer of something wild, something gaunt. "Heroes aren't for hire, Bastion Prime," she snarled, her declaration an affront.
And then she astonished me. She drew back her blade and moved forward, her hand reaching out to caress the brim of my Roman armor. Her fingers brought shudders with them—a bolt of lightning that never flared but ignited something within me. "But perhaps I can be persuaded," she breathed, and the alleyway narrowed down to encompass us.
Tension between me and her was a living, breathing thing—a snake coiled, ready to strike. Her gaze ranged over mine, and I knew she wasn't merely discussing the survival of my world anymore. There was something else in her eyes—something that had little to do with worlds or planets tipping the scales. It was raw, unbridled hunger, and it hit me like a sledgehammer in the stomach.
Her hand strayed from my cuirass to the edge of it, her touch light but electric. For a moment, I forgot the war that lay ahead of me, the lives it would claim in the billions. For now, I was only a man, but she was gods. And she appeared to want me.
"All right, I'm in," she answered, her voice a purr that could melt steel. "But I do expect compensation."
Her hand never stopped tracing my chest as she pushed into me, her breath heating down the length of my neck. I could sense the heat of her, the power wound in her very self, and it was addictive. I opened another portal with a thought—this one to Chicago, where I currently was living. The orange light cut across her face, and she looked like one of the warrior queens of legend. We stepped through it, the alley disappearing in the light.
The moment we crossed over, the tension between us released like a rubber band. The acrid smell of car fumes and distant sirens hung in the air—the sweet sound of the city that never sleeps. The buildings loomed upwards like skyscraper guards around us, a stark contrast with the alien territory that I was just in.
Wonder Woman's eyes widened, drinking in the neon-lit Chicago streets. Her black hair flew around her as the breeze tossed it about, as if she had just stepped out of myth into real life. The sounds of the city were noise all around, but for the moment, it was all I could do but listen to the thudding in my chest, the throb in my head.
Her hand traced down the length of my waist, her fingers gripping the material of my clothing. She thrust against me, her breath warm along my ear. "Show me this city, Bastion Prime," she whispered. "Make me believe it's worth fighting for."
I swallowed. The sirens in the distance were in my head. Her arm was around my waist, and my body was screaming at me to close the gap between myself and her, make her mine. The universe, though, had other plans.
My earpiece shattered. "Zandale, we've got a problem." It was Cecil, and his voice was as tight as a stretched wire.
I swallowed the thunder down my gullet, collected myself. "Talk."
Cecil's tone was a cold slap. "A Viltrumite named Anissa came to Earth. She tried to enlist Invincible to her cause."
I could feel the bottom dropping out of my stomach. Anissa.
"Tried to hire him?" I repeated once again, going for an even voice. "And what'd he say?"
"Declined," he replied, and relief washed over me. "But she threatened him, Zandale. Warned him that someone else is on the way. Someone who's going to put him right."
Cecil's voice was a sawing knife in my ear. The kind of news that made one's blood run cold. "Who?" I growled, fully knowing, of course, who was coming. Conquest. That was his name.
"Unknown," he answered, and the quiet was like a blow. "But the empire backs her completely. And she's not sitting here drinking tea."
The universe weighed heavy on my shoulders, as heavy as a star imploding. The war began. Abruptly. Ruthlessly. Just that. And, with the aid of Allen, this date, this moment, Nolan would break through his Viltrumite prison—and this was where the Viltrumite War began, as far as I could tell. I thought of Absolute Wonder Woman, her gaze on me, waiting.
"Ahhh, found someone," I gasped into the earpiece, voice like sandpaper. "Someone.... Different"
Cecil's voice turned harsh. "Different—how."
I looked at her—All Wonder Woman, eyes fixed on me like twin fires. "Someone... Absolute."
Cecil's voice was skeptical mumbling. "Absolute how?"
"Stronger than everyone in this universe put together, even me. And she has the willpower along with it," I reported over the comms unit, not overstating in the least how strong she was.
There was quiet down the line for one instant, then, "That is quite frightening, Zandale."
Cecil didn't know anything. That woman in front of me could blow the world in two if she sneezed. But I wasn't going to let fear guide the distance I walked. I needed her close, around me.
"Bring her to the Pentagon," Cecil whispered into my ear. "Let's get down to strategy."
I nodded, the lips curved upwards. "Sure thing," I replied, the words freighted with something besides geography. Wonder Woman's eyes didn't blink. She knew. There was a kind of electric tension between us, as if a storm was on the verge of breaking.
It took one instant, where gravity's grasp relaxed, and we blasted upward, my cape streaming after like a war banner. The takeoff thunder smacked into our faces, but she didn't blink. The city lay spread out before us like a chart of light and darkness, a box of human aspirations. I nodded toward the Sears Tower, the lake sparkling like a gleaming band of moonlit glass, where the world had been sullied—where heroes had perished, where villains had met their ends. She took it in with the concentration of a warrior, nodding, her eyes not only surveying the land, but the battles it had known.
The Grand Canyon lay before us—a mute witness to the fierce beauty of time. I watched her eyes go wide, the wonder unmasked, and somethin' inside me moved that had nothing whatsoever to do with war and destiny. We stood like this, frozen in mid-space btween earth and sky, and into this moment, she leaned in—by an inch, palm on chest, close enough to feel the warmth of her.
"Ever had anybody, Bastion?" she asked, her hair whipping in the breeze, its shade midnight. "Anyone who'd comprehend what it is you do? Anyone who'd want to bind you down?"
I waited. The peaceful stretch of coastal city down below appeared like an oversize toy held in the hands of a giant. I had been with five. Each with their goals and their enjoyment. But never, ever really comprehended me. Not ever. They comprehended the face. They comprehended Bastion Prime. They comprehended Zandale even. But never grasped who the person was under the face. An isekai with a cheat which was overpowered.
"Ahh, well, I've had my own fair share," I finally answered, my voice whipped across the lashing gale.
She had absorbed my gaze in pursuit of something beyond words. She was seeking my reality that I was not giving to her. I did not owe her anything, even with my adaptive skills kicking in, shattering her wide like a walnut.
Wonder Woman sang softly, like a quiet husky song. She drew closer to me, the touch of her breath along my cheek, and breathed softly, "Take me somewhere more... intimate, Bastion Prime."
My apartment was the last human space I felt like introducing a war goddess to, but one takes what one can. We swooped down out of the darkness, wind a muted scream around us, as we landed on my old apartment building's roof. My apartment door had a more promising future ahead of it—a few more kicks and it would swing open with all the elegance of a sledgehammer opening it. It was home. Or, you know, at least it was.
You'd figure once I made as much as I wanted, I wouldn't be living here. Nope. Never had to. Either I was at the Pentagon, my old place at the Guardians of the Globe Headquarters, or Carla's.