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Iron Man: "I believe this is human subterfuge, Captain. If we allow this to go on any further, then we have doomed the
Ex Issue 1
super human community, before this whole ordeal has even begun."

Captain America: "No, Stark. We were already doomed from the start."

- Captain America and Iron Man



Darkness is shown, swirling through the abyss like clouds and trails of smoke. Suddenly, two voices are overhead.

"They've gone to far this time," the first voice, slick and smooth, states. "If Staggerd is elected to presidency, we're going to have an entire world against us. I don't think we can handle that."

"We won't have to," the second voice sighs, its masculine voice low and gruff. "He won't take office, I promise you that."

"You have no control." Echoing footsteps ring throughout a large corridor, vibrations bouncing off the walls as the two converse.

"I always have control," the second voice says calmly.

"Don't let this go to your head. Staggerd has more supporters than Chik-Fil-A's anti-gay crowd."

"I'm serious, Tony."

A light begins to grow brighter, as two figures appear from the shadows. On the left, Tony Stark is shown, his eyes hidden behind a pair of dark shades. He is clad in a sleek, gray pin stripe suit, his tie in a fasionable knot. His hands are in his pockets, left wrist clad by a shimmering, gold watch.

The second figure appears behind him, clad in a blue and white body suit. A red star is emblazoned on the chest, a large circular object strapped to his back.

"And so am I." Tony turns to Captain America, his eyes set on the war heroes chest. "I believe this is human subterfuge, Captain. If we allow this to go any further, then we have doomed the super human community before this whole ordeal even begun."

Captain America, looking past Tony, sighs and points to a televison monitor hanging on a stone wall across from them. Tony turns, looking at the screen with wide eyes. He tips his dark, shadowy shades down as luminescent words flash across the screen:



"No, Stark," Captain America says, as his shield implants itself in the television screen. "We were already doomed from the start."

CHAPTER 1: Speak of the Devil, and he shall Appear (Part I)Edit


Captain America runs down the street, boots kicking up mud as he does so. Gun fire can be heard above, the sound of the wind whipping at his ears. His shield, broken and nearly shattered, rests in his left hand lazily as he sprints. Debris and sharpnel are scattered across the road, lamp posts and flaming cars having fallen in awkard positions.

Turning the corner, Captain America is suddenly ambushed by a pack of rogue androids. They raise their guns, green lights flashing as their plasma beams hum to life. They aim at Captain America, who raises the remaining half of his shield.

"Submit, hero or face the wraith of S.H.I.E.L.D," they chant at once, their voices echoeing throughout the city. They fire, green beams of heat flying off of Captain America's shield. He lunges, slamming into the closest android and dolphing diving over the next. Flicking his wrist strongly, the admantium shield flies out of his hand, ricocheting off of the closest wall and flying straight through the remaining androids' necks.

As the killer androids die down, Captain America sighs deeply. His voice can be heard narrating above from his mind.

"Six weeks. Five days. An unnatural amount of time against the law...for someone like me that is."

He continues running, his eyes dead set forward.

"I remember when Fury died. People mourned. People grieved. We moved on..." He stops, turning a corner and jumping over a pile of rubble. "But hell, if we knew Pickett was going to run this orginzation into the ground, he would never have been elected."

A flashback in Captain America's mind is seen, a mental screen shot of Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanof (Black Widow) shaking hands with Cyrus Pickett, the new director of S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Natasha said his dossier was clean. No records, no files, no physical attempts at trying to take over the world or any balogney like that..."

Another flashback is shown, of Pickett standing where Fury once stood, on the deck of the Helicarrier.

"I guess she forgot to check his mental sweeps."

A fiery flashback of Pickett's face is seen, as he orders hordes of androids to attack the super human agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

"He killed the majority of us; sent the rest of us on some sort of cat and mouse game...can't say I blame the guy, though. He'd taken a big position. But, dammit, I would've rather been fired than this...this...horror."

Captain America is seen standing with Natasha Romanof and Clint Barton (Hawkeye), gazing unemotionally at a burning pire of super huamn bodies.

"Normally, I would've bashed his skull in. But Pickett's got something that Fury never had on his side; the populace. The civilizans love him- they worship him as a savior. And what's worst? He's best friends with the world's first ever anti-super hero United States President."

Captain America returns to the present, as he skids to a halt in front of a broken down wine shop.

"Cyrus Pickett and Tobias Staggerd," Captain America narrates. "What a lovely couple."


Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, is seen sitting at a poker table. Blood poker chips and cards are spread out across the stained wood, coffee cups filled with mold toppled over on the surface. Residue of web fluid is seen dripping from Peter's web shooters, as he sulkingly looks at the cards.

Captain America enters, notcing Peter who is dressed in his white and black Spider-Man suit, save the mask.

"Parker. What are you doing here?" he asks, tossing his desicrated shield into a large, infero-like furnace to the right. Flames and embers fly out of the cube like incenerator, as Captain America closes the door.

"No where else to go, is there?" Peter says, without looking up. Captain America sits across from him, his hood sliding off of his head. His jet blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes become vibrant in the light, as he runs a finger over his scarred cheek.

"I guess you're right..." Captain America replies, sighing and looking at the blood cards and chips on the table.

"One for each, huh?" Spider-Man asks, gazing at the items as well.

Captain America nods, covering his mouth with his hands, fingers interlaced. "That was the idea."

The cards are seen, the blood thin and transparent now. Each card is a trading card from the 2000's. The most noticable one seen is Nick Fury.

Spider-Man slides his fingers over the card, blood dripping off of his glove. He picks up the card, glaring at it intensely. "Wish he was hear to get us out of this crap..." Peter sighs, tossing the card across the table.

It lands in front of Captain America who refuses to look at it. "He died an honorable death, Peter."

Peter stands, the chair shuffling with a loud thud to the side. "Honorable death? Uh, last time I checked, 'Death at the hands of a diabolical deadly robot' isn't an honorable death." Peter begins to walk away,grabbing his black mask off of the back of the chair.

"Peter, I meant-," Captain America begins, but Peter cuts him off. "No," he says, pulling the mask on. His voice becomes muffled as he looks back at the super soldier. "I know what you meant. You meant, 'Oh, Peter's just a kid. If I tell him it's alright, he'll stop mopping around and actually do something productive, won't he?' News flash, big guy- I'm not a kid anymore."

Captain America opens his mouth once more to speak, but Peter is already out the door. The hero sighs, slamming his fist into the wooden table. It shatters from the force, and he groans again.


Steve Rogers opens his eyes, the edges of his vision distorted and blurry. Ice surrounds him, his body shivering under the frigid temperature. His heart seemed to be convulsing as oxygen rigorously struggled to crawl through his lungs.

A face is suddenly seen above the ice, glaring from the otherside of what seemed like a whole other world. The face is bony, skeleton-like almost, and blood red. It is attached to a body, clad in a black pin-stripe suit. The ice suddenly breaks, and Captain America falls onto the floor. Blood and bile drips from his cracked, dry lips as he struggles to maintain his balance.

His legs, frozen cold, are black and blue. As he drags himself towards the close support, a foot slams into his back.

"How you lived is beyond my imagination," the German accented voice hisses. "What simply matters now, however, is your death. And, oh, what a sweet death it shall be."

The voice becomes louder, resonating throughout Captain America's entire mind. "I will make you beg for mercy. You will ask for refuge, for relief. And I will give you none. I have survived in hell for my entire life; now you must take your sample, Captain. You must take your turn..."

A sharp pain sears into his back, as blood begins to drip from his hands. The body of Natasha Romanof is seen in his hands, and suddenly his skull is on fire. As screams fill the night, Steve Rogers snaps awake.

Rogers looks hastily around the room, sweat pouring down his body. He sweeps his legs around the side of the bed, burying his face into his hands.

"Nightmares," he says, his thoughts narrarated aloud. "They've plagued me for years; ever since I went in to the ice...but they've become more frequent now. I've never day dreamt before, but I do now. I wouldn't even call it day dreaming, though...more like thinking about hell..."

Captain America walks over to the window, looking out the shredded, black curtains. The city outside is on fire, and spotlights search the dark, melevolant horizion.

"Welcome to my world," Captain America sighs, his voice trailing off as the last page closes off. "Welcome to our exodus."



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