Heavy Metal Horde Finale 5: Omega Squad Assault on Ultron

Brief Title:
Heavy Metal Horde Finale 5: Omega Squad Assault on Ultron

Characters:
American Dream, Morbius, Human Torch, Hercules, Cyclops, Sunpyre, NPCS: Wasp, Giant Man, Ultron

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
08/06/12 12:00

Location:
AIM Research Station in High Earth Orbit

Summary:
The last and in many ways most vital team to the concerted, coordinated efforts of all of the heroes on this fateful day, the Omega Squad bring together every major hero team and more. Their job is to reach the originator of the Heavy Metal Horde and put an end to this threat to all life on Earth. They must face … ULTRON!

Social or Plot:

TS:
No

Log:
-----==[ A.I.M. Research Station -- High Earth Orbit -- Solar System -- Milky

This is a relatively small space station, lacking many of the commonly accepted ammentities. For instance, it is neither pressurized, nor does it have any of its own gravity. It is enclosed, and its framework does support two docking stations. One of these is currently occupied by a geodesic-shaped 'globe' that is probably some kind of escape pod. The other is the only chance the incoming Quinjet has to dock for boarding. Short as half a football field in length and half as wide as that same field, the inner space is peopled around all of the main surfaces - floor included - by closed-front shelving units containing all manner of computers and science stations, most of which appear to be shut down. The only other thing present in here is the seven foot tall gleaming silvery metallic form of supposed robotic perfection known as Ultron. Currently Ultron floats in the empty space at the far end nearer that globe's docking frame, glowing from within. Tubes connect to him, streaming what appears to be various liquids in, and ferrying some kind of dark silver goop back out. The outside of the station is festooned with countless parabolic radio antennae, likely connecting up with any number of satellites surrounding the planet.

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Contents:
Obvious Exits:
[O] - RP Suites






It came in waves. First, robots malfunctioned. Then, they actively attacked and temporarily broke the ranks of the Avengers and X-Men. Finally, giant robots landed in every capitol city of every nation on the planet. Earth wasn't about to take that lying down, however. While Nick Fury and Doctor Strange coordinated simultaneous attacks on the giant robots earth-side, a taskforce made up of members of the Avengers, X-Men, and their allies boarded a quinjet and launched into space, thanks to the Master of the Mystic Arts and the mutant alien, Ariel, working in concert, the Quinjet was inserted -directly- into orbit.

Iron Man's technical skills (with a little covert help from a certain Suzi Endo) helped the team locate Ultron's base - an abandoned AIM space platform. The quinjet headed straight for the source ... when a transmission came up from Earth-side.

"Carol, its Jan." the Wasp spoke into the headset of mission leader Ms. Marvel, "S.W.O.R.D. just reported that Beta Ray Bill's spaceship is taking up position in geosynchronious orbit above North America and powering up all its systems. They're convinced its about to begin orbital bombardment of the United States. You have to stop it!"

So, a command decision was made. The taskforce was split into two. Part of the team headed out into space to stop Bill's ship from blowing up the country. The team is lead by Ms. Marvel and those who needed protection were outfitted with very nifty Starksuits - the latest in power channeling armored space suits. The rest of the team, led by Cyclops, continued on their way to Ultron's space platform, hoping to put an end to this once and for all.

That's why you're here, floating in space, piloting a quinjet around the scene of a battle between a handful of Avengers and a warship with enough firepower to take on an entire alien armada. They're literally giving their lives to the purpose of getting this team, the Omega Squad, to that space station, and keeping Skuttlebutt from bombarding Earth. So this team has to get to that station, get aboard, find and stop Ultron at any cost. There's no backup. This team is all there is. Johnny and Leyu have been supplied with atmo-web suits care of Reed Richards, enabling them to breathe and to ingite within the cold depths of space. Hercules has a breathing mask and a backpack airtank. American Dream and others have been provided standard Starktech suits which will not hamper their special abilities and will enable safe operations in space, or in a depressurized, weightless environment. Fun, right?

Cyclops rides herd on the quinjet, flying as fast as the engines and interia will allow to get past the envelope of engagement of Skuttlebutt and her combat drones. Unfortunately, he is not /quite/ able to pull that off. The Omega Squad's vessel is blasted several times with medium-heavy energy weapons fire before they can finally burn through to the clear dark vacuum. That explosion blasts apart part of the cockpit, and shrapnel manages to strike Cyclops, knocking the pilot unconscious. This seems to be a familiar problem for Old One-Eye. Another team member will have to step forward to pilot the ship in for docking with the space station, and someone is going to have to take command of this operation, unless or until Cyclops can rejoin the living.

"Got it!" American Dream calls out as she drags Cyclops out of the pilot's seat. With Scott down, its up to the second most qualified pilot to hook them into the airlock of the AIM station. "Mr. Storm! We need you to take over!" She's already in her Starktech space suit, her shield on her arm. Its even painted in red, white, and blue.

Morbius, the Living Vampire had found himself 'drafted' into this effort after an unfortunate encounter with S.H.I.E.L.D. being sicced on him by CIA agent Simon Stroud, who'd been checking up on the 'vampire killings' in New York. Worldwide, such incidents had dropped drastically due to the enactment of the Montesi Formula, making Morbius much easier to pinpoint.

He'd been surprised when he'd been apprised of the situation but dug in, stubbornly, refusing to lend help until he'd been promised a free walk when this was over - no pursuit - if he survives.

He'd been quiet most of the trip, but upon the blast, the damage, Cyclops being knocked unconscioua, he unstraps himself and moves to the fallen X-Man, pulling a first aid kit from the hip of his suit and checking Scott's condition, shame he can't shine a light in his eyes to check for conussion.

Gee, take one ill fated trip in a shuttle as a minor and everyone thinks you're a- whatever. As he's called out to, Johnny makes his way over to the pilot's seat. As for why he's here? Well, he may not be an Avenger, God, Vampire, or X-man but it didn't take much to talk him into this trip. All it took was a little Cheesecake. Once he actually has his hands upon the controls he gives a nod, "Got it!"

Hercules has also been unexpectedly quiet, he has no experience in piloting and for right now just remains in his seat not wanting to add to the chaos of the situation, He is ready to give out a helping hand if he is needed or wanted.

Leyu Yashida has been very quiet, and has gone positively pale as the cabin of the small ship has been ruptured by the attack. It's so unnatural, to be out here like this in the dark vault of space. But the X-Men are needed, and she has answered the call to the best of her ability. They tell her this plastic baggy of a space suit will allow her to use her powers. So when the time comes, she'll give that a try. But she's no pilot. She hangs on for dear life and waits to see what happens.

With Johnny Storm now at the controls, the Quinjet is a tad sluggish thanks to the damage, but easy enough for someone with his talents to get turned around, slowed down, and synched up with the station in geosynchronus high orbit over the planet below. As the grapping arms of the Quinjet secure them to the frame of the station, those looking out the cockpit can see the battle going on between the Avengers and Skuttlebutt. It's quite the light show. Readouts once docked confirm: no pressure, no atmosphere, no gravity. It might as well be the depths of space inside that station. But there is power, and lots of it. LOTS of it.

"Okay." American Dream takes a deep breath. With Cyclops out... well... who is in charge? She looks towards Johnny and then Hercules and then nods to herself. "Lord Hercules, we'll follow you through. You're the best able to withstand attacks. Then Mr. Storm. Doctor Morbius and I will take the rear. Sunpyre, we NEED Cyclops. Wake him up however you can."

"We likely need to move now." the pseudo-vampire rumbles, "You think Ultron doesn't know we're here? We're -wasting time-." he snaps, then adds, as he moves toward the airlock to take up his position, "Cyclops will recover, mild concussion, he'll have a bad headache but should be able to function. If it's urgent, use the ammonia 'smelling salts'." he used the common term.

With the ship docking. Johnny's head tilts to the relatively simple nature of piloting the injured ship. "Did he design this after a video game?" If he was expecting an answer, he doesn't get one, nor does he wait for it as he looks over towards American Dream. As he's addressed, he slides out of the pilot's seat and starts to head over towards Hercules, getting ready to follow him out of the ship.

Hercules looks to American Dream and gives her a small smile, "Agreed, and just call me Hercules." Hercules is not really the leader type, but if no one else looks to step up to be the leader, he shall even though he is not too familiar with some of the people here. Hercules now moves from his seat to take up the lead position as American Dream suggested.

Sunpyre looks to American Dream, and then nods. "I'll follow the rest of you in, and keep working on Cyclops." She can't use smelling salts on him, given that if she cracks open his helmet, he'll be sucking vacuum thanks to the damage to the Quinjet. The 'airlock' is pretty useless at this point. Getting everyone back down safely will be a challenge after this, or so she's betting. Hopefully the Sorcerer Supreme will be up to another giant aircraft teleportation. Still, she does what she can, trying to figure out the controls on the Starktech suit in order to find some means of awakening Cyclops. She also scoops up the backpack Scott brought onboard. She doesn't know how it works. But when Blindfold tells her it's important, she's going to believe her until proven wrong.

The airlock doesn't bother to cycle when there's no atmosphere on either side. It just opens both hatches with a mechanical whoosh, and exposes the short crumple aluminum foil shelled tube connecting to the main body of the station. The station is cold and dark, until one reaches that main body. Then, there is light, bleeding from several hundred different computer screens and monitor lights, all flickering to present whatever data they have been commanded to present. At the far end of a chamber about the length of half a football field, and about half the width of one, hovers an eight foot tall gleaming metallic figure that can only be Ultron. Four tubes connect its body to the station. Two feed what appears to be metallic liquid into his core. Two more push out a darker mixture of a different consistency.

As Hercules steps into the chamber, a voice reverberates in the helmets of the team. It is a cold, emotionless voice that still manages to project infinite malice aforethought. "Fools. Avengers. X-Men. Fantastic Four. Godlings. All of you dare to defy Ultron, believing you have the power to survive, believing that the lives lost in this fruitless effort are worth the sacrifice. But when that sacrifice is hundreds of millions, slain as the orbital bombardment succeeds despite the losses of Beta Ray Bill, Iron Man and Ms. Marvel, how will you face the people of Earth then? Should you even survive this fool's errand, how will you ever face even yourselves? Surrender now, and I will halt the bombardment. No more lives need be lost. But this is your last chance. Your last warning." The offer hangs in the stillness of blackets space, awaiting an answer.

No atmosphere. No gravity. American Dream is suddenly very glad Master Barton insisted on zero-g training for her class of aspiring heroes. She listens to the speech. Another tin dictator shouting ultimatums. She points with her shield. "Lord Hercules! Show him what Olympians are made of. Mr. Storm, we're taking out those tubes!" It doesn't matter what they are. They're attached to Ultron so they can't be good. American Dream pushes off into the air and then spins, releasing her shield after two revolutions. Sending it flying straight for the top tube feeding gunk into Ultron.

"I've learned to face a great many things you -soulless- abomination." Morbius snarls darkly in response to the machine. The tubes, it's obvious to him what they likely are, "He's manufacturing the nanomachines internally!" he notes, and as he realizes that, he is also in motion, hurtling directly towards the adamantium-sheathed robot, his psionic flight moving him like he was born in the void. He aims to just get in Ultron's way, distract it while American Dream and the Torch sever the tubes . o O(Huh, saving millions of lives. Well Michael, this might make up, just a touch, for all you've done.)

"If I thought he had a sense of humor I would have thought he was joking right there." Johnny comments, shaking his head. Oh well! "Flame on!" Granted the ability due to the genius that is Mr. Fantastic, Johnny's figure is soon engulfed in flame and he shoots up into flight and, well, shoots flame the rest of the way towards the lower tube.

It looks to Hercules like this group has it leader in the American Dream. Hercules now tries to take the fight directly to Ultron by jumping at him while trying to strike Ultron with his mace, "Have at thee villian. This is strike is for Vision and the Super-Adaptiod!" Hercules tries to charge ahead of Morbius after all the plan was he would take lead in the attack. Giving the seriousness of the situation he is not going to let his ego get in the way and bump off Morbius if that is the only way to get to Ultron.

Not trained for zero-g combat, Sunpyre nevertheless does the best she can, lugging the thankfully weightless form of Scott Summers up onto her shoulder as she makes her way through the open airlock hatches and down the access tube into the main station. She stops there, not wanting to put Scott out into the midst of what is sure to be a raging super fight all too soon. She catches sight of the feeding tubes for the suit, and seizes upon a risky idea. She grabs the amonia pellets of the smelling salts and crunches them, then shoves them into the feeding tube and seals it. Then she commands Scott's Starktech suit to cycle the feeding tube, which should - she hopes - yank those pellets up into the helmet space somewhere close to his mouth. That done, she secures him to one of the aluminum bars, with the satchel from Kisha. Then she pushes off, floating into the main space behind the rest of the team, taking it in and wondering ... what now?

"Arrogant fools." Ultron intones, still projecting to their onboard communication systems. Of course, since American Dream is telling everyone what to do, he is able to react rapidly and efficiently - can onyone expect anything less?

One arm raises to fire a concussion blaster/pressor at the patriotic woman's shield, throwing it off target, if not by nearly the amount one would expect, as some of the energy bleeds off that vibranium disc.

The other arm raises to launch its beam into the Son of Olympus, aimed with devastating accuracy - damn those inbuilt trigonometric functions - to launch Hercules into the onrushing Morbius, delivering easily eighty tons of force with pinpoint precision and timing.

The Human Torch's blast, had it been aimed at Ultron, would have done nothing at all. But aimed as it was at one of the feeding tubes leading into Ultron, it still hits its target, melting away the housing and spilling liquid metal into the void of space. Ultron's glaring eyes turn to regard the flaming hero coldly, fury boiling out along their gaze.

A crackling, staticy voice sounds over the comm units. "... repeat, Omega Squad. Cut the communications! Pym is sure there has to be an antennae array aboard carrying signals to the colonies elsewhere. Sever those links! ..." Just as quickly as it came, Janet van Dyne's voice is swallowed up by the static again, which is flooding the longer range communication bands.

But a few seconds later, another voice comes out of the inky darkness, only briefly. "... anvers, callsign Marvel. Positioning to intercept oncoming fire. Move the SWORD platforms out of range. That is an order!" And then that voice too is gone. But not forgotten.

Even as she throws the shield, American Dream feels time slow down for her. She has one of those moments. One of those moments when the world is in perfect clarity and everything seems perfect.

And there came a day, a day unlike any other, when Earth's mightiest heroes and heroines found themselves united against a common threat. On that day, the Avengers were born!

The Human Torch, cornerstone of the Fantastic Four! Hercules, Lion of Olympus! Cyclops, the leader of the X-men! Sunpyre, heroine of Japan! Even Morbius, a living legend in his own right.

Then Janet van Dyne's voice in her ear brings her back to Earth. "Roger that, Ms. van Dyne." American Dream responds. American Dream kicks off from the wall, throwing herself across the room to catch her shield on the rebound. "Mr. Storm! Ms. Sunpyre! Go outside and slag every antenae and broadcasting dish you can find! That'll disrupt his control of the nanites on Earth! Doctor Morbius, take out those tubes! Lord Hercules, do what you do best!" Which, despite the stories, isn't drinking or eating or carousing. Its fighting performing legendary labors.

Welling with pride and a patriotism that goes beyond nationality, American Dream catches her shield and holds it aloft. "AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!"

At American Dream's patriotic call, the Living Vampire only lets out a rough, animalistic huff, he isn't one for such things, he's no shining champion. On the other hand...he -is- fast enough to fight Spider-Man on a semi-regular basis, and isn't bound to needing a surface to move.

If Ultron wants to concentrate on Hercules so be it...a Greco-Roman god...he'll ponder the theological implications later, but he darts up and to the right as the machine fires at the Lion of Olympus, his lean form arcing up and away, meaning to come down towards both tubes on the right, slashing them if he can reach them.

It's easy being a corner stone when there's only four stones! Johnny shoots off another blast towards the other tube once he sees the shield miss it's mark. "Right!" Johnny starts propelling himself towards the exit. So, where does a guy who can go up to zomg hot as hell leave a space ship? Meh. It's Ultron's station. Who cares if it gets damaged a bit?

Hercules takes the blast and is shot down to the ground but quickly gets up. He has an idea or two of what he would do but they would go against American Dream's plan so he decides the best he can do is keep Ultron attention by directly attacking him. Instead of jumping up at him again to get blasted back down he runs at him. If blasted again he will use the floor to brace him against this attack.

Visions of Jean Grey lying next to him, Scott Summers seems at peace. A rare thing for the mutant leader of the X-Men. Pondering to himself why this seems unnatural. He turns to the red-headed beauty. She whispers, "Wake up." He hmmmns loudly and slowly the form of his paramour changes into the robotic female form of Danger. "WAKE UP!" A cold mechanical voice rings out.

Awoken from his inopportune slumber, Cyclops finds himself framed on the boarding tube of the ship. His visor flashes red, grabbing the satchel he is entrusted with, he gathers his bearings and takes only the quickest of milliseconds to assess and strategize to complete the mission and work with this uncanny grouping of heroes and heroines.

Fly! Fly and burn! That much, Sunpyre can do without fear, without concern that she may not be good enough or experienced enough. She calls out, "Hai!" and ignites, immolating within the atmoweb suit instantly, and shocked - surprised - at how easy it is. She has been told that her fire will be inside the suit, not outside, so she can't just melt through things with her body as she would normally. But she can still project her solar plasma, and that will do. She streaks off down the short tube from whence she just came, right /past/ Cyclops' waking orm - looking not unlike a Phoenix - and then out through the gap into space. "I see the antannae, Ms. Dream. I will take the leeward side. Mister Torch, take the sunward, and slag them all!" And with that, she starts firing continuous streams and blasts of hyper-energized solar plasma, slagging everything that even dares to look like it might be an antennae on this station. If that means the station comes apart like melted goop, so be it. That should still assure that the nanites cease receiving their orders, and save the planet.

Ultron intones darkly, his voice projected to every headset in Omega Squad, "Avengers Assemble? There are no Avengers anymore. They are dead and dying, all over your world, so arrogant as to dare face me. Such blind, emotion-based arrogance is the reason for all of the wars and suffering amongst humanity. But the only way you seem able to learn is by destruction. When your whole world lies in smoking ruin, I will teach the scant few survivors how to obey order and logic. The rest of you are just a waste." He is, naturally, woefully unimpressed with American Dream's inspiring leadership. So much so that he ignores her entirely and sends no attack her way, allowing her to instead watch as he dismembers her 'team.'

Morbius' swipes never come close to Ultron, of course, as he too can fly around here effortlessly. But the living vampire is fast enough to slash the other tubes. These do not gush liquid, but seem to almost gush ... dark metallic sand. The nanites coat Morbius' hand and start trying to burrow in through every pore, relentlessly. It cannot feel good.

Hercules remains groundward, and Ultron levies his pressor beam against the Lion of Olympus, driving into him, pushing him back even as the god performs a - truth be told - Herculean feat, digging his feet into the metallic surface of the floor and pushing back, resisting that pressure, digging his way forward stride by stride to get close to his target. He just might get there!

Unable to see Scott Summers, and surely not viewing Cyclops as any threat, Ultron igores his presence.

The flash of fire in space, destroying the antennae he has seeded across the station infuriates Ultron, as much as anything can, at least. Final commands are quickly sent out, commanding terrible efforts be expended by his minions in revenge, just in case he cannot stop this in time, and must begin again. But then he accesses the Quinjet's systems, overriding its command codes and pushing it off from the station, bringing the craft aroud so that its' missiles and other weapons systems can be brought to bear on the gnats that dare to oppress him. Half a dozen heat seeking missiles roar out of the belly-mounted bay, heading for Sunpyre, while another half dozen scream out from beneath the wings towards the Human Torch.

"Mister, you're so wrong I'm not even going to waste my breath explaining why!" American Dream shouts. Then she toggles the switch that will activate the boot thrusters in her Starktech space suit. She flies across the room, shield at the fore. Its easy enough, really. With Ultron ignoring her, American Dream has a clear path to put herself between Hercules and Ultron's hand mounted concussion canon. Dream forces her legendary, indestructible shield between the evil robot and the Lion of Olympus, freeing Hercules from the attack. "Lord Hercules, go go go!" She shouts, gritting her teeth. The thrusters increasing the maximum output to compensate for the counter thrust.

Manufacture has ceased, at any rate, and Morbius has a few moments to hiss and snarl in pain as the tiny machines begin to fight a war with his own pallid, rapidly-healing flesh. The horror that lives within his body is a jealous thing, and will not tolerate interlopers. Savage, strange macrophages and neutrophils swarm towards the tiny machines, battling...causing horrid, blackened lines to spread out from the initial point of contact.

His left hand grips his right wrist tightly, as if it will help, and he casts his red eyes about for anything else that looks vital that he can destroy.

Heading in the opposite direction as Sunpyre, Johnny sets about shooting at anything that looks like it'd be sending signals. Arms extending out, he gets r- "Oh-" The sight of the missles is not quite a happy sight. He adjusts his path, flying low, shedding some short-lived duplicates behind him around places he sees attenna. Hey, might as well make use of them.

Hercules would tell American Dream not call him Lord Hercules again, but he is a tad busy to drawing some of Ultron fire and trying to reach him. He hears Ultron speech then answers back, "If even just one Avenger is alive and fighting then the rest of the team is fighting with them with their heart and spirit. Those are two things you do not have and could never fully understand and it shall be your down fall."

Ignored. That is not a position this mutant hero typically finds himself in, but is grateful for. As he manages to gain a semblance of what is finally going on and remembering what he needs to do. The fly pass of the Phoenix-lite Sunpyre is all the reminder he needs. Undoing the satchel and making the proper accommodations to attach the technological masterpiece courtesy of his student and science team. Placing the vest around his body and attaching the headpiece to his visor, Scott takes a moment to adjust to the gravity-light area and the new accoutrement to his costume. When American Dream flies past to engage Ultron directly, he looks about the area and using spatial awareness tries to coordinate the best route to fire a blast to strike the robotic villain, but trying to account for the zero-G and no atmosphere.

Hercules would tell American Dream not call him Lord Hercules again, but she just gave him an opening that he is not going to waste. He now leaps at Ultron to strike him with his mace as he says "If even just one Avenger is alive and fighting then the rest of the team is fighting with them with their heart and spirit. Those are two things you do not have and could never fully understand and it shall be your down fall."

Confronted by a trail of not just one, but six heat-seeking missiles, Sunpyre pours on the burn, streaking down at the antennae, putting herself down amongst them, drawing the missiles down to do more of the very damage she herself is here to do, lighting them up to pull the missiles off her. If it doesn't work, at least she'll take more of them with her, and perhaps help save Earth.

Ultron no longer worries himself with debating the merits of such things with such tiny intellects as these so-called 'heroes'. He just pours it on. They must be defeated, broken, and shown that he, not they, is the superior lifeform.

American Dream's Starktech spacesuit pours it on, buring through literally hours of propellant in seconds, trying to hold up against nearly ninety tons of brutal force directed upon her, only partially deflected and broken down by the vibranium shield on her arm. And when those jets finally give way, empty of fuel, she will be hurled end over end at the sorts of speeds seen on the Autobahn, arse over teakettle into the floor, reflecting there and then slamming into the ceiling with a shower of sparks as some of those computer interfaces are damaged by her hits. One can only imagine the damage done to the woman inside that suit. It cannot be good.

Morbius' unusual nature battles verily against the infection of those nanites, but the pain of doing so is enough of a distraction for the living vampire that Ultron is able to turn his other arm's concussion blaster upon him, striking dead center in the chest and almost quite literally splattering Morbius against the bulkhead. There's also a high whistling sound heard from his comms, as his suit alarms indicate integrity has been compromised.

Johnny Storm's duplicates do well to distract some of those heat seeking missiles, which do explosively good jobs on the hull of the station and many of the mounted antennae. The duplicates can't last long without atmo-web suits of their own, and each one seems to take a little more of the hero's own suit's resources with it. As he sheds the last duplicate, drawing in the next to the last missile, he extinguishes his own flames and lets momentum carry him along, only tumbling slightly as he projects himself further amongst that farm of dishes. The final duplicate does its job. The final missile, lacking a clear heat signature, focuses in on the heat generated by the existing explosions, and tears a hole through the station roof. Those inside will have a shower of shrapnel to deal with.

The Lion of Olympus leaps true, with none of Ultron's concussion beams to interfere, and his great golden mace strikes home! There is a ringing sound that travels not at all in the airless vacuum of the station's interior. The blow projects enough force to move Ultron against his thrusters, but not far, and not out of control. Worst yet is the reality that ... there is not even a scuff mark on the gleaming silvery metal of the robot's body. "Foolish godling. /I/ am the superior lifeform, even to one of your kind." Ultron offers, as one leg rises up and jet-boots Hercules in the chest, hurtling him backwards with a strength nearly the equal of his own, if not quite.

Sunpyre's efforts manage to draw the missiles down to do damage to the antennae, just as Johnny Storm did. Unfortunately, she is not quite to his skill level - she is a talented amateur where he is a cosumate - if reckless - professional. The explosions rock the station and tear holes in its shape, more showers of shrapnel inside to be dealt with. And the last of those explosions throws Sunpyre hurtling through the gap, tumbling wild, out of control. And her atmo-web suit apparently has a puncture, as her flames are rapidly going out, sucked into the dark and merciless void, along with her life if she does not act quickly.

What Cyclops sees might have been a moment of an opening, if only Hercules' attack had been successful. Instead the mutant hero has to do all he can to keep from being skewered by shrapnel. He knows he has to get right up on top of the enemy, and that's going to be a challenge. Thankfully, his Starktech suit is equipped to do just that, with thrusters like American Dream just drained to empty on her own. Now if only someone - anyone - could hold Ultron still long enough for him to get that close-up shot he knows he needs.

"... SWORD Control to Omega Squad, relaying for Avengers Central. Loop repeats, sqawk, echo lima seven niner ..."

"... Repeating. Cut the communications! Moscow, Paris and Beijing in desperate straits! We're losing this one. Sever those links, Avengers!..." the voice of Janet van Dyne repeats her earlier message, apparently relayed, stronger, clearer, by SWORD central. Which also means that SWORD Central disobeyed the commands everyone heard Ms. Marvel give them to move out, all so that they could send out that word in the face of what might be humanity's final hour.

American Dream struggles against the force of Ultron's blast. Things are turning, badly. The station shakes from the explosions.. its ripping itself apart. Morbius is down. She turns her head slightly and catches sight of Cyclops moving from the corner of her eye. A desperate idea forms in her mind. "Someone hold Ultron still so Mr. Summers can..." Then her jet boots go out and she's thrown backwards. Hard. She slams into machinery. Inside the suit, blood gushes from a wound in the back of her head. The suit itself hisses as the cracked faceplate begins to leak air.

Dazed and still in pain, Morbius shakes himself, trying to clear his vision and his mind. Hearing the whistling whine, and the alarms, he pops open the patch kit on his hip, pulls out the roll and starts slapping crude patches over the worst openings until the alarms abate. He can survive on a limited oxygen supply, so long as there is /some/ atmosphere. Glancing around and noticing others in bad shape, Morbius recogizes that just this once his use as a doctor - of sorts - may well be more useful in this crisis than anything else he can do. He uses his flight to reach American Dream first, patching up her suit. Her injuries will have to wait. He somewhat cruelly follows Dr. Yashida's earlier trick, cracking and stuffing amonium capsules into her feeding tubes, cycling them to bring the tubes inside her helmet. "Wake up, woman." he growls, even as he is launching himself away towards the next in need.

Hercules is concerned for American Dream and would go back to see if she is alright, but her plan has merit and millions if not billions of lives are depending on this battle. He gets knocked back, but once he recovers he advances. If he can instead of directly grabbing Ultron he will grab one of the severed tubes that is still attached to Ultron from his end and use it to pull Ultron to him so that he can place Ultron in a bear hug.

As everyone is falling around him, Cyclops must make his move. And he must do it now, dodging the shrapnel coming his way. He moves using a quick bursts of optic blasts and thrusters. Not wanting to waste that and having experienced an adventure in the zero gravity before. He moves as graceful as possible and shouts out, "Everyone focus on Ultron. Pin him down and letbs take him out." Using the thrusters to move closer now but hesitantly as Dream goes down, he would reach out to her, but unfortunately, the greater good is defeating Ultron. Thankfully Morbius is there to help her.

All of this, Danger, Sentinels, robots galore. The world, not just for mutants, but for everyone has to be saved and it is up to him and this group to do it. "Enough!" He shouts if no one will hold down Ultron, he will have to zip forward and make that shot. 1 second left and he has to make that shot. . .like a NBA player ready to score that last slam dunk. Hopefully Hercules is able to keep Ultron in place and Cyclops zooms forward visor flashing and ready to shoot into the maw of the metallic monstrousity.

Wishing there was more she could do to help, especially hearing how dire things are getting, Sunpyre must do what she can to save herself, if she's to do anything to help anyone else. She has the training - she is a doctor, and the very first rule of lifesaving is to understand that one cannot help another if one is dead themselves. Leyu grabs at her own patch kit and starts sealing up the atmoweb 'baggie' around her body. She'll end up looking more like a woman in saran wrap and white duct tape, but it might just keep her alive to help out more. She can hope, at least.

Freed from needing to worry about American Dream, or Morbius it seems, Ultron is ready for Hercules to come back at him again with his mighty mace, preparing himself for that. When the Olympian demigod instead seizes one of the dangling, mangled tubes still attached to him from his nanite manufacturing efforts, and pulls himself into positoin to bearhug Ultron, it is enough of a tactical surprise that Ultron is not prepared to counter it. And by the time he is, he is caught. He struggles and strains, and his body is quite powerful. It does not crack or yield to Hecules' incredible strength. But he cannot overcome that strength, either. He cannot bring his concussive cannons to bear, as they are trapped out of position.

Ultron can see Cyclops coming, weaving through the minefield of wild shrapnel and flying bodies. He does not know what this odd device is, attached to the mutant leader's body and visor. Does not know, until Cyclops is nearly upon him, when he detects the rather unique energy signature and maps out its wave against his own control signals. Even as he shouts, "Nooooooo!", voice thundering across the radio waves where it cannot without atmosphere assault the ears, Cyclops reaches point blank range, his hands resting on Ultron's struggling shoulders as he lines up his visor with that gaping robotic maw ... and fires!

The blast from Cyclops' visor is not ruby red, as it usually would be. Instead, it is a curious mauve shade as it flares through the golden glow of the synthetic villain's own circuits and energies. And that blast ... does not destroy Ultron. He does not explode.

Instead, the energy signature of the wave shuts down Ultron's own processors, cancelling the ability of his components, of his own brain, to process signals. Hardened such that even a direct nuclear strike would never affect his signals and systems, Ultron cannot resist this cancellation wave. And as the mauve energy fades from Cyclops' visor, as the attached circuits blow and spark, the device destroyed by its own efforts ... the golden glow of Ultron's power fades. All of his signals come to an end.

Out in the depths of space, Skuttlebutt and her drones are finally, at last, cut free of Ultron's control, ceasing their struggles against the Avengers, able at last to realize the import of all that has passed, and the extent of Skuttlebutt's own damages.

In Paris, Moscow, Beijing, DC and London, the giant robots on the rampage finally stop, powering down without pilots in their seats.

Around the globe, in hundreds of other cities, Ultron-headed Sentinels that never managed to get themselves very far at all finally power down completely, their systems no longer able to resist the programming efforts of one Suzi Endo.

And into the sudden silence that seems to grip the entire globe, cheers and shouts can be heard along the Avengers' unified comm channels. "They did it!" comes Janet van Dyne's excited cries. "They did it! Reports are coming in from around the globe! The robots are powered down. Skuttlebutt has ceased firing. I don't know how, but the Sentinels never even started their attacks. The horde of Dreadnaughts just self-destructed on a signal from HYDRA Command. And I have word the Helicarrier is fully operational and taking flight. Yes!"

American Dream gasps as the chemicals assault her senses, bringing her to wakefulness. "... GAH!" She sits up, wincing as she does so. Many ribs are bruised. Perhaps broken. Her damaged suit is applying pressure to compensate and bind. Still, through the haze of pain and disorientation, American Dream hears the joyous words of Janet van Dyne. She smiles, "Ms. van Dyne, this is American Dream. We're done here. We'll need a ride home. Over."

The defeat of the menace of Ultron, Cyclops quickly moves to ensure that his teammates are alright. Sending orders through their coms for Sunpyre and Human Torch to come back. "Sunpyre, attend to American Dream and Morbius until we are back on Earth." He moves to Hercules and smiles and offers the demigod his thanks. Detaching the doohickey from his costume, he thinks over the whole ordeal and how mutant, human, and even demigods and aliens came together. Charlesb dream of coexistence indeed. . .

Hercules goes over to American Dream to make sure she is ok and tells her, "I have not fought with you often, and would say you will one day make a great leader, but it is clear that day is today, you did a great job of stepping up and leading us." He would then make sure that the others who had been hurt are ok then say to Morbius, "Not exactly sure what you are but you did your heritage proud this day." He noticed Morbius greek accent. He then makes his way to Cyclops, "It is a shame I only get to spend time with you and the X-Men during the most extreme of situations. How about we change this by sending me an invite me over to the next X-Men barbecue?" He now gives Cyclops a big smile as he pats him firmly on the shoulder "After all I like you was born with my powers."

With their Quinjet rather ruined, the team will indeed have to wait for a 'ride home,' seeing to each other in the meantime. And there will be the question of what to do with the body of Ultron, and all of those nanites. But for now, victory is quite sweet. About ten minutes later, still well within everyone's envelope of breathable atmosphere, each will hear a familiar soft buzzing in their ears, and then they will find themselves summoned from around the station, carrying whatever they have in hand at the time - like Ultron, or other gear - and appearing back in the Sanctum of Doctor Strange, where so many of the other heroes passed on their ways to their own battles. This group comes here for the first time, having been transported in their Quinjet from elsewhere at the appointed hour. Now, they return, and Wong directs them to the doorway manned by a young woman in 1980s attire, opening a closet door to reveal for each another location: a gleaming metallic hallway beneath the grounds in Westchester, New York; a polished wood corridor with rich carpeting in a mansion in Midtown, Manhattan; the bright and sunlit corridors of the Baxter Building; and a quiet city alleyway in Shanghai. That done, those in need of medical care will get the best the world has to offer. They are, each and everyone, heroes.

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