Wednesday, December 15, 2010

DEFENDERS/ TRANZ #3: No. 2, Even a ghost can dream! 12 days

(Ain't that cool?)


Here, I've left my original draft. I created a new piece for here, though.
It's very cool!
http://integr8dfix.blogspot.com/2011/02/alternative-re-write-of-day-2-free-of.html

Perhaps it’s intuition---or some side effect of the increasing ripple effect of the Transmetamorphosis changing the Earth---but the soldier’s aware of another presence suddenly arrived upon the seen. He has never heard of the blessing of the Vishanti, but across time and space, he is aware that heroes gather---perhaps to stop this change rocking the Earth with change, or perhaps, to make sense of it as chaos has its sway.

Holt looks at Blancley, and now both see in their midst a dark stage, figures stabbing the darkness with the lights of their essences, though their bodies assemble from various places across time and space.



To stand before such a door way is to immerse one’s self in facing the direction of all one’s fears, and sense, moving forward, your survival’s path, its methods.

Now both soldiers become aware of aid, not only from the strange non-team of beings diving with Valkyrie into the perilous recesses of the spreading phenomenon...
...but surfing atop turbulence as extra-dimensional energy from the astral plane is the consciousness of Doctor Strange---presently, from across time, in the 19th century!

STRANGE:
In the act of discerning, clarity is everything. Sometimes, an act must be made certain with only the most doubtful perceptions. From the core of his being, Doctor Strange becomes a mental mirror to the crystal ball, an eye rolling over events of no less than a reality storm.

This distorting vision of the interlacing consciousnesses of the soldiers and fire fighters in the distance (as well as the Hulk and Nighthawk) suggests why unprepared humanity and Earth seem destined to shatter from this process of Tranz-Rupture. The adaptation of their minds to the accelerated empathy seems achievable---yet what is this? Those who fear most seem to simply ---vanish! The Eye of Agamotto finds no evidence of them in their passing, save for traces of energy that radiate outward into the corridors of the fifth dimension, hinting out some existence elsewhere in the beyond.


The mystery is not beyond a sorcerer supreme---indeed, the hidden nature of the plan’s abandoned now, as pretense is no longer necessary in the face of naked power.


I discern the source of power for this change, this rupture of normal reality, even such that it is: the M’Krann Crystal Its energies created a blinking of reality: fantastically, all ceased to exist in a barely detected split second, during a battle for the crystal involving the mutant X-Men. The energy was born in waves which proceeded the end of the universe as we experienced it--- save for the destiny of a universal force and its bond with a woman of Earth, an atom-child named Jean Grey.


Once the description of the M’Krann Crystal and its intersection with human life was told me by my fellow Defender, the space faring Silver Surfer:
the artifact source, the M’Krann Crystal, lies within the Shi’ar Galaxy. Its existence before the Milky Way existed has been marked with a special stargate alignment occurring regularly but extremely rarely throughout its existence.

The alignment was manipulated by the mad Shi’ar Emperor D’Ken, whose ties and plans to involve Earthlings remain unrevealed. How now does an object, dormant throughout most of Eternity, shed consequences all the way from the Shi’ar Galaxy now? Return from the 19th Century requires reserves best left exploring the source and nature of this amazing changed landscape.


Reverberations in that very blinking of existence, as recorded by Peter Corbeau via Star Core One on that occasion have been harnessed, with minimal efficiency, into the necessary transformative power to choose an acceleration of evolution in both man and Earth. Is it his duty to put this to a halt? Would this be the manipulations of one sorcerer-for another’s ? Still, the master of the mystic arts can’t take anyone’s master plan for Earth very lightly. In fact, I usually find unfortunate reasons to number in the opposition.

Broken bells rustle by the oak door. Madame Blavatsky has proved a commendable tolerance, even enthusiasm, for these, her two touring guests, Stephen Strange and Clea. Their good conversation has led to quite an eventful afternoon.

As she turns from her wood stove top with a tray of tea, she senses something ineffable at stake, yet, she recognizes benevolent, yet awe-inspiring, energy in the traveling couple---even as she suspects they journey from the very place of Strange’s vision that dances and darts within the crystal set before him.

He looks up. “Thank you. I trust you to understand the strenuous nature of this emergency.”

“Trouble at home?”

“You might say that.”

“Have no fear. You came to me to speak of other places where dwells the soul, friend. Now I must share my impressions with you, as I see outside you while you concentrate so feverishly.”
“Clea seems to be recuperating energy from contact with our friends. The tea is very thoughtful.”



MADAME BLAVATSKY: “Enjoy the ease in its heat, doctor. I feel the need to tell you of the three ghosts who surround the crystal ball’s tempestuous vision. What we gaze upon in this orb seems to be the very dreams of ghosts, lucid in the light of thousand year slumber coming to the threshold of wakening.”

CLEA: “Stephen, do you recognize?”

STRANGE: Their language is Old Norse. They are adepts of some proficiency themselves; their intentions give me some notion what occurs in the most impenetrable place wherein Valkyrie’s astral self seeks breech.

BLAVATSKY: Two are united as one...and the third is united into another pairing, as though merged, captured, contained...by one who is not of this world.

CLEA: I seek to use the Orb of Agamotto’s power to guide Valkyrie at the eye of the material storm opened by the Spell of the Wolf.

STRANGE: Yet the wolf is a pawn, I think, to some greater outside presence!
Nonetheless, Stephen, says Clea, it seems sure that this werewolf enchanter---his body, clearly stolen from another universe---holds the key to humanity grabbing some stake in the actions that cut and paste

The world we know.

He nods. He begins to probe where the energies radiate, how they mix with the very fundamental place where human thought becomes human reality. “But should I discern the nature of this Transmetamorphosis,” he asks himself, “what then?”
Indeed---what then?
Clea’s trance reassembles its contact with Valkyrie, and now Blavatsky, Strange and
Clea all see the two ghosts united of which the Madame spoke.

United as a body of flame, they dance about the sword Dragonfang,

held aloft by Barbara Norse’s arm, while her body holds aloft the spirit of brave Brunhilde.

Her lips carry a soft chant to Freya as her pegasus Aragorn bears down upon the dark arena

where stands the transfixed wolf-man-god: Remus Sharptooth, drawing a echno-sorcerous circuit

triangulating the M’Krann energies and manipulation from the future itself,
as the world of our knowledge shatters.

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