Millennium Man tome #24:
“Sacrifice”
By Jacob Milnestein
“Oh god you owe me one more song,
So I can prove to you that,
I'm so much better than him.
Oh god just gonna listen fast,
Here comes the crash,
We're gonna rise above,
We're gotta smash it up,
You won't abandon us again”
- Courtney Love,
‘Mono’
***
Michael Manly stood at the grave of his friend, Bruce Todd. His head was freshly shaved from the operation and whilst still uncomfortable, the pain had eased considerably.
He knew how lucky he was and how much of that he owed to the people around him.
“I know I’m not you, Bruce.” He said silently. “I’m not Henry Burke either but I promise you I’ll do my best. I’ll make both of you, wherever you are, proud of the name Millennium Man.”
The soft footfalls of another awakened him from his melancholia and he turned, just in time to see Victoria Burke place a wreath of flowers at Todd’s grave.
She looked up at him and smiled knowingly.
They said nothing but neither did they need to, for the expressions in each of their eyes said all that was needed.
She nodded once, rose up and turned away, leaving him alone at the graveside.
Michael Manly shrugged, unable to keep the smile from his face.
“I am Millennium Man.” He repeated and turned away.
Behind him, the wind softly gathered the petals of Victoria’s flowers and blew them across the calm, peaceful graveyard finally alighting upon a simple grave.
On its great stone rested the solitary legend:
‘Here lies Henry Burke III, beloved father’.
In the distance the birds were beginning to sing once more.
The ordeal was over.
***
One Year Later…
Feathers drifted across the sky, the final, black blossom of a hideous flower. A sudden crack of sound erupted, shattering glass and tearing the concrete up from the ground in shattered chunks as Anna Romanova flew through the city, her mouth open in a silent scream and her wings beating in slow, powerful arcs. She turned, twisting upwards and slamming her palms down hard together. From deep within an energy ball of sickly black manifested beneath the pale of the flesh, twisting in unstable patterns before launching upwards into the skies above.
The blast connected with Manly’s upper chest, his body erupted in fire and smoke. Above him the hideous dragon writhed in agony, howling like a wounded dog. Romanova dived forwards, the flames of her dark power twisting in ever circling patterns of obscurity over her head like some hideous and blasphemous halo. She fired into the smoke; energy blasting from her palms again and again, rhythmically puncturing the twisting veil and triggering further explosions from within.
The dragon screamed, its jaws frothing with rage as wave after wave of energy blistered against the bruised flesh of its host. Drawing desperate breaths into her tired lungs, Romanova continued her assault for another minute before wilting, her trembling hands falling to her sides.
Agonising seconds passed, the air filled with the thunder of both her heartbeat and the wounded dragons. Slowly the smoke cleared and, from its very centre, the scarred shape of Michael Manly burst forth, his chest covered in wounds and his face bleeding as the tongues of fiery ether that surrounded her twisted across the sky, converging into the body of the great dragon.
Romanova staggered, throwing her arms up as his punches slammed against her with such force that she was driven back across the skies. Her feet stumbling on air as punch after punch wracked her body. Her head spun as a final blow connected with the side of her face, knocking her off balance and sending her crashing down through the edge of a building and into the foundations.
She struggled to her feet, blood seeping down the front of her face and matting her hair. The sheer power with which Manly fought was staggering. Never before had she encountered an opponent so powerful - not even Victoria Burke, at her most disturbed, had manifested such terrifying strength. Desperately she fumbled inside her inner jacket pocket, feeling comfort in the cold shape of Clandestine’s silver scarab. The presence of the otherworldly device was enough to ensure that even if the situation were to continue to escalate there were at least options.
Not that she was particularly keen on the kind of conclusions such options would result in but at present she did not consider herself to be fortunate enough to afford to concern herself with the matter in any great detail. She felt Erlend’s mind slithering at the back of her head, squirming and thrashing like a confined serpent and she remained resolute that she would maintain control.
There was so much of them that was the same person, so much that was a single identity and yet the real differences lay, as with most things, in the subtleties. Her muscles tensed awkwardly and she sped quickly upwards, bursting through the floor of the ruined office complex and darting sideways through the shattered glass as the very building erupted, the force of Manly’s chi burning away the steel and plastic skeleton of the once proud centre of business and reducing it to scraps of rubble and a sizeable crater in the ground.
It didn’t occur to Romanova until moments after the event that the building was probably still occupied. She pushed the thought away, driving it down into the depths of her mind. Of course it had been occupied, she reflected bitterly, there was nowhere the occupants could possibly have fled to. The sound of Erlend’s thoughts drifted up into her conscious and for a moment she felt herself engulfed in his presence, drowned beneath the waves and contours of his personality. The shape of her face twisted, his physical features impressed grotesquely upon her own. Her vision turned black and she knew that he had taken her sight from her, forcing his own mind into the spaces at the front of their head and looking out through dull windows across the ruined world.
Time slipped through her fingers and, as her eyes unclouded and sight returned she found herself standing upon a darkened sea of endless night stars. The distant sun was warm upon her face. She looked up and saw the Earth from somewhere very far away, somewhere buried deep within a landscape of distant worlds. Sudden anxiety filled her and slowly she turned, her body sluggish and unresponsive.
‘Your sacrifice and the death of Doctor Todd will result in the Millennial Spirit being spread across all humankind. Every single individual, consciously or not, will become a potential Millennium Man.’ A voice whispered from beyond the stars.
The shimmering light of constellations converged into the awkward shape of Johann Weisz, his eyes distant and tired and his hair lank and greasy. Over his shoulders he wore a torn leather jacket with a single gleaming star on the label. Romanova’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“You never told me you could interfere with time, Johann.” She purred, her voice soft and cautious.
The awkward American shrugged beneath the weight of the jacket, brushing the dirt coloured fringe of hair away from his dull eyes and the bridge of his prominent Roman nose.
“You didn’t ask.” He murmured, his voice far away and filled with the dream static of sleepy lovers separated by oceans.
The remaining light from the distant stars reflected from his badge, mirroring the glare from a larger and somewhat more significant box strapped to his right wrist. She turned her eyes away from it, choosing instead to look directly into his tired eyes.
“What’s going on, Johann?” She asked quietly. “Tell me. I’m the mayor, you can trust me.”
Weisz held her gaze for a moment before turning away, digging his hands deep into the back of his jeans pockets and searching for something to look at - anything to avoid looking directly at her. He sighed, kicking at the emptiness about his feet.
“I wanted you to understand.” He announced finally. “When the army gets here I wanted you to have a chance to escape.”
“What have you done, Johann?” Romanova asked, her voice suddenly darkening. The flicker of her dark power momentarily obscured the distant stars, soft flames of shadow curdling in the abyss.
Weisz looked slowly up.
“I’ve told the US government what’s been happening here.” He said with a heavy sigh, pushing his air away from his eyes once more. “They’re crossing the oceans as we speak, preparing for a forcible invasion of Pacific City with the approval of the Australian government, of course.”
“You little bitch.” Romanova hissed. “I’ll kill you.”
“Don’t try looking for me, I’m already miles away by now.” His eyes met hers. “But I wanted you to know - I wanted you to have a chance. I don’t want them to capture you…I just want an end to the fighting.” He gestured limply with his arms and the small device on his arm caught the light once more.
“You’ve betrayed us all to the very people you despise.” She snarled.
Weisz straightened, shaking the tired dreaminess from his face for the first time during the entire exchange.
“You don’t know anything about me, do you?” He answered, his voice suddenly animated. “I’m not betraying you, I’m ending this situation once and for all. Whilst you and Michael have been kicking each other to death something happened to the planet, something monumental.” He looked down at the shining golden box attached to his arm, inspecting the decorative sun design at its centre and the narrow trench to the left. “We’re all superheroes now, every last one of us.”
Romanova’s eyes fell on his device once more.
“I do believe those cards will be the death of me.” She sighed wearily.
Weisz looked up from his admiration of the lecteur de tarot card reader.
“Can’t you feel it? The world’s energy is different now - it’s as if…as if…” His voice trailed away, the dreamlike stupor of his previous expression settling once more upon his face.
“You’re being used, Weisz. The energy that possesses you was never meant for the whole human race.”
Weisz shook his head angrily.
“No, you’re wrong! I deserve this as much as anyone else!” He shouted, tapping the tarot reader angrily with his finger. “All my life I’ve been deprived of power - first by my father and then by you and Victoria Burke. Well now it’s my turn to be a hero, now I’m Millennium Man.” Contempt flooded his face. “You’re the one who’s always talking about evolution, Anna, you’re the one who insists that we’ve got to evolve as a species. You should embrace this, because with the unleashed Millennial Spirits, everyone can become like Millennium Man - even you.”
Romanova’s eyes narrowed faintly but her expression remained unchanged.
“You’re an idiot, Johann. The power those cards hold is only the tip of the iceberg. If you’d had even the smallest amount of backbone then we could have changed the world.” She whispered, her voice wavering.
Weisz shrugged and turned away.
“Maybe I never wanted to change the world, maybe all I wanted to do was find something I believed in.” He shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter, either way it’s over. Take care, Anna…I’m sorry things had to end this way.”
She stepped forwards, her knuckles white and her expression faltering.
“I’ll find you, Weisz, if it’s the last thing I do, I swear I’ll find you.”
He waved sadly and began walking away, his footsteps echoing amongst the stars. The breath left her, drawn forcibly from her lungs and out into the cold vacuum. There was a sudden shuddering, a distortion in her thoughts as she felt herself torn across space and bound once more to the recesses of her own familiar flesh.
She blinked, striking out and catching Manly’s fists before they could connect. She twisted, instinctively casting her elbow out and slamming it down into Manly’s face with a sickening crunch of blood and cartilage. He staggered backwards across the sky, screaming deep animalistic sounds of pain for a moment or two. Slowly he lifted his face up once more, inch by inch, to reveal the torn and shattered smear of his nose.
The sky cracked above them, pale light streaming through holes in the cloud and casting their shadows wide across the city. Romanova hung in the air, her fists clenched and the dark Mandala of her chi throbbing like the beat of a heart. Her hair was stained by blood and sweat.
Opposite her, standing a short distance from where she had stopped was the shape of Michael Manly. His short blonde hair, twisted in the wind. The warped flames of his spirit aura rose up into the hideous shape of the towering dragon that now drove him onwards. His eyes were sharp, almost unnaturally so, his fists illuminated by the flare of light generated within his own body.
“You’re slowing down.” He remarked, his voice warped by the tones and expressions of the towering spirit dragon that spoke at the same time as him.
“Don’t worry about my pacing, Michael, I haven’t even used the merest fraction of my power yet.” Her eyes narrowed. “Although you’ll forgive me if I mention that I was faintly insulted that you’d felt it necessary to submit yourself to the control of this,” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Card, in order to challenge me.”
“Shut up!” Manly shouted, the flames of his aura growing wilder and ever more uncontrollable. Above him the dragon twisted and turned, breath streaming from its wide nostrils and eyes rolling in its narrow, dog-like head.
“You’re not stronger.” Romanova snarled, her voice twisting in disgust. “You’re just like another weakling riding on the coattails of some force you can’t control - you’ve turned yourself into another Imperial Magistrate and for nothing more than arrogance and self-doubt. You sicken me.”
“SHUT UP!” Manly roared, light rippling out from his hands to form a wall of sheer energy.
Romanova dodged effortlessly, the trail of her jacket igniting and turning to ash as the energy wave passed by, slamming hard into a skyscraper behind them and tearing it from the ground. It hung there for a moment, leaning painfully close to the ground as slowly it shed the glass and metal from its side before toppling over and exploding.
Romanova smiled darkly, ducking as Manly flew across the skies to meet her. She lifted her fist, the knuckles white and raw and connected with the side of Manly’s face. The dragon howled in animal rage as its host faltered in mid-air.
“Listen to me, Michael!” Romanova screamed into his face. “You’re being manipulated. Whatever happened to you on Braeburn has tainted your powers.”
“YOU SENT ME TO BRAEBURN!” Manly screamed back, spittle flying from his mouth as his fists collided against Romanova’s arms. “YOU SENT ME THERE!”
“STOP BLAMING OTHERS!” Anna Romanova screeched back, her voice hoarse. “TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR OWN ACTIONS!”
“IT’S YOUR FAULT I’M LIKE THIS! IT’S YOUR FAULT I’M…” The words died in his throat as he fell backwards, blood trickling out of his nose, his eyes rolling. “It’s your fault I’m…”
He turned, startled by the sudden interruption.
Standing alongside him was a curious creature, composed of twisting light of different colours, wraith-like in appearance and terrifying to behold.
“It’s your fault I’m…Millennium Man…” Tears streamed down his burning cheeks. “You guided Burke didn’t you?” He whispered.
Romanova hung in the air before him, drawing heavy breaths into her chest.
“Yes.” She answered, her voice quiet now, as soft as it had been the first time she had appeared to him all that time ago. “You’ve been manipulated, Michael…by Burke, by Winters, by Licuan, by Ura God…and by me.”
Their eyes met.
“I’m sorry, Michael. The end…the end was supposed to justify the means.”
“I never wanted any of this.” He whispered, his breath shallow and his words trembling. “I never wanted to be a hero…to be an icon…”
Romanova smiled weakly.
“And you never should have been, Michael. You’re too kind hearted, too caring. The world eats people like you, turns them inside out and makes them into dragons.” She glanced hesitantly up at the spirit that clung to the clouds over his head. “I’m sorry.” She whispered again. “I’m so, so sorry.”
She reached out her hand to him, her blood-spattered coat flowing in the space between them. He looked up with eyes clouded by tears and reached back towards her.
“I tried to force destiny…” She whispered, her voice becoming increasingly soft. “I tried to make you all stronger and now…now Victoria’s dead and you…” Her mouth continued to move but the words stuck, lodged like poison in her throat.
With a single flicker of energy, Manly crossed the distance between them, his movements faster than even she could have detected. She felt his fingers searching for a hold in her mouth, his muscles tensing. Bile rose up in her throat as she suddenly realised his intent. Her eyes widened, tears streaming down her face as she felt the tear of flesh and muscle. With a sudden flare of dark flames, she forced her chi outwards, her mouth giving birth to a hideous scream that drove her attacker stumbling back.
Consumed by rage she fell upon him, her fists beating a relentless tattoo against the exposed flesh of his chest and arm. Blood rippled beneath her fists, the flesh cracking open in thick gashes as she continued her endless assault, the skin of her own knuckles eventually cracking and breaking open.
His hands, which flew up in defence, were too late, desperately trying to parry against the sheer ferocity of her attacks and failing. His body was knocked further and further backwards by her attack, the scars of his flesh seeping precious blood.
With a sudden decisive strike he launched his fists outwards, his own knuckles intercepted the cracked and scarred flesh of Romanova’s own. For a moment their eyes met, hatred rippling between each of them before both combatants pulled away, spirit flame igniting from their bruised bodies.
The building to her right shattered, turning to dust and ruin as she crashed into its side, rebounding and kicking away with the heels of her heavy boots. Over the city, black feathers and unnaturally white snowflakes filled the skies. Her dark hair flew away from her pale face, illumination flickering eclipse-like across her features as her hands cupped and her body twisted away, the spark of spirit energy igniting and tearing away across the heavens.
Michael Manly twisted effortlessly sideways, the force of her chi slamming into the PCN building and wiping it from the face of the wounded city. Relentlessly he moved forwards, snow tangling in his messy blonde hair and blood streaming down his forehead from a wound inflicted by the debris. She rose up to meet him and their fists collided, bruises emerging beneath pale skin as together they tore across the city, knuckles breaking on hardened flesh. They moved faster than the human eye could detect, tearing their way up 11th and Carnival Street and shattering the glass of every building they passed.
Blood erupted from her mouth as the back of his fist flew across her face, smashing teeth loose and sending her head reeling to the side. Before she could react he had taken hold of her hair. In her head, Anna Romanova’s eyes rolled. The world swelled and in that instant she felt her heart leap into her throat. Over a year of careful planning, of chance and gambit as much as foresight and consideration all ruined in this one solitary instant.
“You best sit down.” Manly hissed in her ear as the ground rose up towards them.
“Thank you,” She murmured, tears streaming from her face and freezing amongst the snowflakes. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
They crashed into the ground, her body arching as her wings bent, creaking slowly before finally giving under the pressure. Bone splintered and her head rolled, mouth wide open in a piercing scream. Light flickered in the corner of her eyes once more and the hiss of burning ozone filled her nostrils. She moved her head and screeched louder as a sun-bolt detonated upon the cold, exposed flesh of her stomach, tearing open a wound the size of a fist.
She dropped to the ground on broken wings, scrabbling and bucking in the filth and dirt as Manly lifted his charred hand up from her chest. Between the fingers blood ran in delicate trails. Her body writhed for a moment longer, his fists descending and then she snapped upwards, throwing herself forwards, bringing her right hand up in a fist. The dark fog of her chi ignited about her hand as she threw him off his feet, overbalancing him and thus reversing the situation. Her fist made contact with the right side of his face and kept on moving, burning away flesh and crushing bone as the skin tore open upon her bleeding knuckles.
The remnants of buildings squatted low in the skyline surrounding them, their once clear veneers now torn away and spilling office refuse upon the streets. Along with its mentor and the spirit of its hero, Pacific City had died a terrible death. Its once proud streets were reduced to ruin, pathways of the spiralling destruction that had erupted between its chosen son and the spiritual head of its superhero community.
After years of staggering beneath the weight of its protectors and the terrible influence of the supervillains the place attracted, the city had finally fallen. Wave after wave of energy exploded outwards from the fighting, slicing through the remains of buildings and reducing them to endless seas of ash and dust.
The wind gathered about, blowing dust and falling snow around as Romanova struck out, snatching hold of Manly’s fists and holding him fixed before her.
“Listen to me, Michael,” She whispered, his voice drained and worn. “In a matter of hours the American army will be here. Now we can either continue this stupid grudge match of yours or you can try seeing some sense. Something has changed you, Michael, whether it was Ura God or that bastard tarot reader of Burke’s, I don’t know, but something’s influencing you and if you carry on like this then all of us are going to die. Do you understand me? We’re all going to die; not just you and me but people like Regina Darling and all your other little friends and love interests. All of them will be ash, Michael. All of them.”
“You’re lying!” Manly snarled, his face contorting with doubt.
“What reason do I have to lie?” Romanova snapped in return, pushing against his balled fists. “Jesus, Michael, were you always this dense?” A small smile crossed her cracked lips. “Trust me, I’m not lying to you. Weisz sold us out. The Americans are on their way and when they get here they will kill everything.”
She pushed with the palms of her hands forcing him to stagger backwards in the air.
“You can change the future, Michael.” She said, throwing the tattered remains of her coat back and thrusting her hands deep in her pockets. “Do it now.”
With trembling hands he clutched at his head, the shimmering flesh of the silver dragon howling above him. He faltered, falling slightly before regaining his balance, his very limbs trembling with the force of exertion. The screams of the dragon grew louder, rising to a final tumultuous roar that broke over the city like a terrible wave of sound. Upon his shaking arm, the gold paint of the lecteur de tarot cracked, falling away in flakes and drifting downwards into the snow and ruins.
His whole body convulsed with pain, trembling with such violence that the flames of his chi threatened to rise up and consume him. The tarot reader shuddered upon his arm, sparks of power crackling across its burnt, rusted metal surface. With a final roar, the dragon erupted, dissolving into shards of chi energy and dissolving in the cold morning light.
The black decay of the tarot device fell away, revealing a new pristine device as white as the snow that fell steadily across the surface of the ruined city. Slowly he lifted his head, blood and tears streaming down his face.
Romanova smiled weakly, the soft glimmer of tears in her own eyes.
“Welcome back, Michael.” She whispered.
He blinked, slowly taking in the ruins of the city around him.
“I-I-I’ve been used haven’t I?” He whispered, his voice dry and harsh.
Romanova nodded slowly.
“I’m afraid so.” She smiled weakly and dug into her pockets, pulling out a single card and threw it to him.
He caught it with trembling hands, turning it over in his scarred hands.
“Abare-ru Hattatsu Siege Henshin Armour.” She said. “You’ll need it.”
“I-I-I don’t know if I can use it.” He said, looking down at the shimmering surface of the new lecteur de tarot device upon his wrist.
“You’ll have to, I fear.” She said, her voice firm despite the physical exhaustion that wracked her body. “And when you prove you’re up to I’ll return the missing card from Burke’s Millennial Tarot too.”
He looked up, his eyes narrowing.
“You knew?”
She smiled dismissively and brushed her blood stained hair away from her face.
“I guessed.” She answered.
He nodded sadly. In the distance came the rumbling sound of something ominous, something fearful.
“And now…?” He asked, his voice fraught with concern.
Reaching once more into her pocket she lit a last cigarette and looked up.
“And now we face the future.” She whispered.
From the heavens the fearful rumble died into sheer silence. The skies ignited with brilliant white light before either of them could react. Romanova’s mouth opened but the words were drowned by the sheer lack of sound. From above the light washed over them, deconstructing the remaining spires of the city, reducing them to a final and decisive ash. Manly turned, losing track of the mayoress and finding himself engulfed in pure white, alone at the centre of an endless expanse of nothingness.
There was silence for a moment and then the world caught up, reality snapping back into place. His body burnt into flame and he was thrown from the heavens by the sudden, heart wrenching shockwave that expanded outwards from the very point above the city he had previously occupied. He fell, screaming in silence as his flesh tore open. The pain that wracked his body became so intense, so powerful that the core of his mind erupted in agony and began to close down second by second. Before his eyes eventually rolled up and he lost consciousness he saw the ground beneath him. It was rock and dirt, carved and deep.
The clouds parted and he felt the warmth of the sun upon his back once more. He looked down. In the place of the city there was nothing. From his mouth erupted a terrible and pained scream that echoed across the scarred geography as his head turned upwards to the heavens once more.
Crowding the skies were the underbellies of an impossible space fleet. The Imperial Magistrate.
His eyes flickered and he dropped from the sky, his body spiralling downwards and into the dust and sand. From the belly of the vast space fleet the first invaders began to immerge and slowly Michael Manly crashed into the ruined desert, the last survivor of a dead legacy.
Solemnly the armies of the Magistrate continued their descent.