"This is Trish Tilby, reporting live from downtown New York City, right in the heart of the Big Apple. As you can plainly see behind me, the Friends of Humanity continue their protest today, for the third day in a row. Strained relations between humans and homo-sapien superior, or mutants in laymen's terms, has manifested itself in many ways. Some pro-mutant groups voice their side, but many, like the Friends of Humanity, are vehemently anti-mutant."

"Ever since the Onslaught a few years ago, and the death of the heroes, mutants have been hated and feared more than ever before. Despite the return of the Avengers and the Fantastic Four, many men and women still blame mutants for their demise. Many of those men and women, and even their children, are members of the Friends of Humanity. I... excuse me for a moment..."

"This just in, on a related note. Apparently, the mutant known as Avalanche, former member of the government-sponsored Freedom Force, now a wanted man, is engaged in combat with the troops of S.H.I.E.L.D. in Central Park. Although many ordinary citizens of New York City view S.H.I.E.L.D. as a shady, secretive organization, apparently they are prepared to accept a devil they don't know in exchange for a devil they do: Avalanche. It appears..."

(Strategic Hazard Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate - Eric)

Avalanche, his silver helmet gleaming in the waning sunlight, stood firm against the onslaught of the S.H.I.E.L.D. troops. They swooped around him in small flying craft, blasting at him with various weapons. Earthen shields rose up from the very ground, blocking the shots and sending some of them back toward their origins.

"Give it up, Avalanche!" said G.W. Bridge, former head of S.H.I.E.L.D. After Nick Fury returned and took control of S.H.I.E.L.D. once more, Bridge was reranked as a Commander. Thanks in no small part to his experience as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s head of Mutant Affairs, Bridge was put in charge of bringing Avalanche in. Lowering the bullhorn to his side, Bridge watched as the S.H.I.E.L.D. troops tried in vain to tag the villain with their energy blasts.

Without warning, the ground behind Bridge and the six troopers near him lurched upward, sending the men sprawling. Bridge immediately jumped back to his feet and whirled around, coming face to face with an animated creature made entirely of rock. Small bits of grass stuck to the hard exterior of the creature. Swinging forward, the rock creature entered the fray, knocking swooping S.H.I.E.L.D. agents out of the sky. Bridge glared at the creature's back as it made it's way closer to Avalanche.

Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the creature dissolved. Small bits of dirt, rock, and grass fell to the ground as Avalanche's creation dissipated. Bridge smiled thinly... Avalanche's concentration was waning! Only a matter of time before he slipped up...

A flash of light briefly illuminated the area, temporarily blinding Bridge. Rubbing his eyes, the SHIELD leader looked back to where Avalanche was standing. Now, instead of Avalanche, Bridge and his troops had to deal with Wildside and the Mutant Liberation Front, who had appeared thanks to their newest recruit, the Vanisher. Cursing, Bridge watched as the mutants surrounded Avalanche, forming a makeshift defensive line. They broke after a few moments, wading into any trooper foolish enough to get close.

"Yee-ha!" Wildside shouted, kicking a nearby S.H.I.E.L.D. trooper in the head. The man staggered backward, dropped his gun, and fell to the ground. Wildside was on him in an instant, tearing and ripping with his claws. "How many of you morons do we have to kill," growled Wildside, knocking another trooper off of his feet, "before you get it through your thick skulls that you don't stand a chance against us?!"

"You tell 'em, sweet-cheeks!" said Feral, wrapping her long orange tail around an agent's feet. With one slick motion, the man found himself on the ground, attacked by Feral's sharp talons.

Strobe blinded a half dozen troopers, allowing Spoor to leap into them and knock them all out of the fight. Bridge watched in horror as the hairy mutant lifted a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent off of the ground and tossed him casually against a nearby tree. The sickening crack of the man's spine as it shattered drifted over to Bridge's ears.

"Damn it all!" Bridge growled, reaching up to his radio.

The Vanisher suddenly appeared behind Bridge, along with Phantazia. Energy crackling from her hands, the white-haired woman reached down and gave Bridge the shock of his life... literally.

"I... oh no!" Phantazia cried out, the energy building up within her. She let go of Bridge and took a few steps backwards, energy pouring out of her. "I can't control it!"

A bolt of energy lashed out, striking Wildside. It knocked him off of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, sending him crashing to the ground. Shaking his head, he glared angrily at Phantazia.

"What is wrong with you?" he roared, getting to his feet.

Phantazia shut her eyes, concentrating with everything she had. Finally, after a few moments, she got her powers under control, back to normal. "I don't know, it just..."

"Enough!" growled Wildside, his ire raised. "Vanisher, we got what we came for." The feral mutant glanced toward Strobe, who had her hand on a very exhausted-looking Avalanche's shoulder. "Get us out of here!"

"Can do!" the Vanisher replied.

Another flash of light, and Bridge was left with a mass of S.H.I.E.L.D. troops and an empty clearing. Shaking off the effects of Phantazia's shock, Bridge tried to click his radio on, but the mutant's electric bursts had shorted it out.

"Damn!" Bridge muttered, slowly getting to his feet. "Fury's going to have my head for this!"

Back at the Vanisher's trendy uptown apartment, furnished with many stolen goods, the members of the M.L.F. sat down for a 'welcome to the team' dinner for Avalanche.

"This chicken tastes like crap!" Spoor spat, gnawing on a tough piece of barbequed chicken. He swallowed once, washed it down with half a glass of beer, and then belched. "Then again, wash it down with a good brew and it doesn't taste so bad!"

The Vanisher looked offended, "I'll have you know that this recipe was handed down to me by the finest French chefs..."

"Bull!" replied Spoor, "You stole it from some television cook's cookbook!" Picking up another piece of chicken, the mangy mutant waved it in front of Feral's face. His temporary quarrel with the Vanisher was forgotten. "Kitty want a scrap of food?" Spoor taunted, subtly using his power on Feral.

"Shove off," growled Feral as Wildside coughed, instantly getting everyone's attention. Well, almost everyone's.

"Hey," Spoor said, addressing Strobe, who sat across the table from him. "Pass me the potatoes, wouldja. At least they taste like potatoes are supposed to taste!"

The Vanisher grunted quietly, while Wildside's face scrunched up in anger. He banged his plate down on the table, staring at Spoor. "Done?"

"No," replied Spoor, egging the team's leader on. "Phantazia, gimme the..."

"Shut up," Wildside said loudly. Spoor stopped what he was doing, looked back at Wildside with a small smirk, and got quiet. "Good. I want to talk about where this team is headed." Wildside paused, shoved a spoonful of potatoes into his mouth, and continued. "We have enough people," Wildside chewed. After a few more moments of silence, he swallowed the food. "Now, I want to do what we're here to do... make humanity fear and respect us!"

"Ooh!" Spoor awed. Wildside ignored him.

Feral spoke up, "What do you call all that crap with S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Mistakes," replied Wildside. "We were forced to defend ourselves, an' I'm sick of defending!" He waved his spoon around, absent-mindedly tossing bits of potato onto Phantazia. The white-haired woman simply sat there, not noticing the food on her clothing. In fact, she had hardly heard a word Wildside had said. "I want offense, and lots of it!"

"Hear hear!" said Spoor sarcastically, and in a flash Feral was out of her seat, knocking Spoor to the floor.

"Don't get blood on the carpet!" Vanisher said, leaping from his seat.

Feral raised her taloned hand into the air and held it there. "Gimme one good reason why I shouldn't gut ya right here an' now!" she said to Spoor. A thin ribbon of spittle dripped from her mouth onto Spoor's face, but he didn't seem to care. "Just one!"

"Feral," Wildside said, looking conflicted. In fact, he was conflicted... most of him wanted Feral to gut the moron, the other half thought it would be bad for the team. "Not now." The white-haired man grabbed Feral around the wrist and pulled her up.

Oddly enough, she let him do it.

"Look at Mister Conscience," Spoor said from the floor. Turning his attention to Feral, Spoor narrowed his eyes. "You'll have yer chance, girl. When you least expect it, you'll have yer chance."

"Enough," said Wildside, trying to take control of the situation once again. Strobe, who had been staring at the confrontation with anxious eyes, looked at the team's leader. Avalanche, who had been poking at his chicken, also turned his attention to Wildside. "We leave tomorrow, for Cleveland."

Spoor barked laughter, "Why the hell would we want to go to that godforsaken hole?" He got up off of the floor, brushed himself off, and sat down once again in his chair. Shooting a glance toward Feral, the shaggy mutant snagged a chicken leg and tore a chunk of meat off with his sharp teeth. "I mean... Cleveland?"

"Not that I have to explain to you," Wildside growled, "but the Friends of Humanity are planning a massive rally in the middle of the city, to protest the fact that the mayor's son was recently revealed to be a mutant." Wildside paused, realizing that he still had his hand wrapped around Feral's wrist. Wildside looked at his hand curiously before letting go.

"We're gonna rain on the FOH's parade..."

In M.L.F. #5: Yes, the team really is going to Cleveland! The M.L.F. take on the always-nasty Friends Of Humanity, but are surprised to find that the FOH aren't the only nasty surprises in Cleveland!