New York City, 18 years ago...

The bearded man stood outside the window of Macy's watching the television as the cold night wind blew about his tangled hair. He could hear the words of the television announcer through the window yet distorted and muffled though it was he could hear the words clearly. It was one of the many things that disturbed him about himself, his feet, his ears, and his lack of memory. He knew there was a time where he had been greater, had done greater things but he could not for the life of him work out what they were.

Now he was just another homeless man on the streets of New York, shunned by respectable people, taunted by those who were less respectable. This was not the life he wanted but it was the life he had all the same, and if this was his destiny all he wanted out of life now was to be left alone. However there was something on the news that sparked his attention.

"The mysterious being known as Onslaught left another mark on New York today when power fluctuations across the city spelt out ONSLAUGHT in Morse Code. City engineers were baffled by these extraordinary happenings as no intruders had been detected, nor were there any signs of tampering. This marks the latest occurrence of the 'Onslaught phenomenon' who has committed many terrorist acts in the last few years." The announcer paused and looked down quickly at his notes then looked back again.

"The FBI case file is still open by it is widely known that the Federal Bureau of Investigations have no leads on any of the acts. This fact has created many problems within the upper echelons of Government and is believed to have led to the exit of former FBI Director J Edgar Hoover two years ago. The FBI are also working on the rising rate of disappearances of several children and young adults across the country, however there is currently no reason to suspect that there is a link between this and the Onslaught phenomenon. In sports..." the announcer went on about how the Yankees were doing, but the single viewer outside Macy's was not interested in that and trudged down the street towards the mission on the harbour. There they would feed him and give him a bed for the night, and that was all that mattered now.

He checked his pockets for change, to see if he might get a coffee from a street vendor along the way, as it had suddenly grown cold as he walked down the street. It was then he noticed how quiet it had become, that the people had seemingly vanished from the normally busy street. It was then he felt the power emanating from only a few feet away, a force probing his mind and he realised he was no longer on the floor but in the sir. A fear gripped him and he fought to free himself but to no avail.

{You are still a fighter,} came a voice from the ether. {I was afraid that it was lost with the rest of your memory.}

"Let me go!" he shouted. "Put me down!"

{As you wish.}

The force that held him shifted and he was thrown towards the harbour, and he scrambled through the air, thinking the sensation familiar but unable to place it. Then he saw the water coming at him and closed his eyes and braced for impact as he hit. However it was more the impact of returning memory that gave him the most pain, as his mind returned and he was Namor, the Submariner, King of Atlantis, once more.

"I REMEMBER!" he shouted as he flew up, the water dripping from his body, looking for the being that had restored him, knowing that whomever it was had power, knowing that the being could destroy him if he so wished.

{Good,} said the man at the docks. {I have restored you for a purpose, first among mutants. I am Onslaught, and you are to be my Prelate.}

"Why?" demanded Namor, as he landed. "Who are you?"

{I have told you my name and that is sufficient. You will help me take this world, remove the genetically inferior and recreate the world in my image.}

"I heard these words many years ago when I was an Invader. I will not accept them from you, as I did not accept them from Axis powers, for you must surely include Atlanteans in your vision to purge the genetically impure. First and foremost I am their king."

{Do you know how easily I could crush you?"} said Onslaught casually. {My powers are manifold, Lord of the Sea. Do not stand against me.}

"Do not force me to," said Namor with equal causality. "Destroy the other races but leave Atlantis and my people alone. They do not come to the surface as they are unable and with my return I can segregate them from humanity."

{Not good enough,} said Onslaught, and began to pull at Namor's limbs with telekinetic might. {You refused me, now die.} Namor began to think and quickly. If he died now, he could not save his people.

"Wait," he said. "What if I rule them as your voice? Become your governor of Atlantis? I speak with your voice, using the people to be your eyes and ears in the sea. You cannot defend all fronts."

{Your people would live and die at my command?} said Onslaught, holding off on his execution.

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," replied Namor.

{But not of the one,} interjected Onslaught. {I know your intentions, Submariner. I see you thoughts the instant you do. You have no secrets from me. Your people are now my people to do with as I please. You are the voice of Onslaught. However you must prove your loyalty to me.}

"How?" asked Namor.

{Cut off the wings of your feet. No longer will you fly.} Metallic particles coalesced around him, forming a knife, which floated in to Namor's hand. {Cut them off. Now.}

"As you command," said Namor and knelt down, taking the knife to his ankles. He knew he had no choice and in a swift movement the first winged appendage fell to the floor. Namor did not cry out as he repeated the job and Onslaught smiled.

{This is the price of your 'freedom', Namor,} he said. {The time is almost at hand. Return to your people, Submariner. Await my command.}

Onslaught then faded from sight as if he had never been there. Namor glanced down at the wings that had given him flight and then dove in to the waters and returned home.

There were preparations to make.

(Federal Bureau of Investigation - Benn)

Latveria, 10 years ago...

"My Lord, you are summoned."

"So," said Victor Von Doom as he looked out of the window. "The time has come at last." He removed his facemask, exposing his face to the air. His master did not approve of the mask he wore, nor the armour he had constructed. However, Doom was a realist and he knew the power of Onslaught and his minions would not be contained by magic alone. He sighed as he looked out of the window once more, down to the lush green landscape below. "Announce a week of mourning," he said to his herald as he turned to exit the room and head for the west wing of the castle.

"Yes, my Lord," said the herald and went to make the preparations as Doom went to see the Ancient One for the last time. As he entered the main bedchamber of the wing, the servants quickly departed leaving alone the acolyte and the master. Doom knelt down before the man who had been more than just a master to him. This was a man to whom he had given a special name.

"Father, I am here," he said taking the old man's hand.

"Do not grieve, my son," he said, his eyes barely opening. "Soon I shall be one with the universe. My final reward."

"You have served this realm well, Father," said Victor and the old man's head turned.

"My performance has been adequate," he said. "Things are not right and the coming of Onslaught has weakened the doorways between the realms. If things progress and become worse then this reality will be under eternal siege from the forces of darkness."

"You must not allow that to happen."

"But Onslaught..."

"Is a secondary concern. He is too obsessed with rule and control, and knows nothing of what is truly out there."

"Surely his meddling in the way of the world is what is causing this catastrophe?"

"We have been through this before, my son," said the Ancient One, a gentle sorrow in his eyes as he looked at the young man before him. "You are a great strategist, but you must start to look at the bigger picture."

"But, father," started Victor.

But the Ancient One shook his head. "You are Sorcerer Supreme now," he said. "You have wider concerns. Yours is the power of the Eye of Agamotto, the lore of the Vishanti and the magics of the Darkhold. Use them wisely, my son. Wisely and well."

"Father," said Doom, but it was too late. The Ancient One was dead. "Oh, father, dear father. I am looking at the wider picture. Onslaught is as big a threat to this realm as Dormammu, Mephisto, Belasco and all of those you spent your life defending this world from. The Sorcerer Supreme should be a defender of the world in all its aspects, not just from the unknown darkness." He exited the room to hear a single pair of hands clapping at his speech. Doom turned on his heel to face the door of the room he had just left.

{So you are Doom,} said Onslaught as he stood before him, gripping the new Sorcerer Supreme by the armour that surrounded him, pulling his arms and legs wide in different directions, holding him up so the two of them were face to face.

"And you are Onslaught," said Doom, not struggling in the slightest, the disdain in his voice evident. "What do you want here?"

{Your destruction, novice magi,} said the mutant. {Without your face plate, your mind is an open book to me. I know your thoughts even before you know them. Your sorcery and science are no match for my power, foolish, pitiful creature.}

"Really," said Doom. "Then destroy me, if you have the power."

{So welcoming of death are you?" Onslaught laughed. "Your wish is granted.} He began to close his fist and the armour began to tighten slowly around Doom like a vice. Then it stopped moving. {What is this?" demanded Onslaught.}

"Science," said Doom. "Did you really think you would be able to take me unawares like that, mutant? I am Doom, and I am not so easily defeated."

{I see what you have done,} said Onslaught reaching in to his opponents mind. {Your armour is proofed against my magnetism, matching the frequency of my powers and aligning the armour with the EM field of the Earth. However that will not stop my telekinetic powers crushing you, like an egg underfoot.}

"Perhaps," said Doom and unleashed two bolts of plasma at his opponents from his hand gauntlets. "Except you only see that which I wished you to see." Onslaught deflected the bolts with ease, but in doing so released Doom, who floated down to the floor, thanks to the cloak around his shoulders. As he did so he placed the mask back on his face, whipping it out from beneath his cloak.

{This is not possible,} said Onslaught, his fury evident.

"The powers of the Sorcerer Supreme include unleashing an astral spirit," said Doom, the fire in his eyes glinting from beneath the mask. "I have been trained in these arts and a low level telepathic scan such as that means nothing to me. You were ill-prepared, mutant, now I shall finish you."

{Not today, Sorcerer,} said Onslaught starting to fade away. {I have minions who will deal with you. You are not worth my efforts.}

"Let them come," said Doom as his enemy vanished. "I shall be waiting."

Once Onslaught had disappeared, Doom gave a sigh of relief. It had taken everything he had to unleash those plasma bolts and luckily Onslaught had been distracted long enough for the psionic buffers within the mask to kick in and block his thoughts. However it was not Doom's way to show anything less than courage and disdain to his enemies.

He had faced his foe and found himself wanting, but today was the first day of the rest of his life and there would be other battles. He turned and with a flourish of his cape, the Sorcerer Supreme went back to his study.

There were preparations to make.

El Tatalicos, the Present Day.

"Damn it," said Forge as he cast a quick spell of protection. Onslaught may have had his prelates working on other things right now, but he still found time to send in the minutia against them and so far they had already lost Mordo and Druid. It was not the fact that they had been lost but that they had been lost so easily and so quickly. There were times when he wished Doom were not so concerned with the other aspects of reality. He knew full well the threat that Onslaught represented - that was why he had gathered the Flight in the first place.

As two of them converged, a third got up from the floor, his seemingly fatal injuries at the hands of the flames of Faltine a temporary death at best, and Forge muttered a silent prayer to the gods he still kept faith with.

"Get behind me, Stephen," he said as he powered up his bionics, and summoned the arcane powers that were part of his heritage as the latest descendant in a long line of shamans of the tribe. It was in every fibre of his being, his blood, and his very soul. It was almost as if they were linked with his being a mutant. The latest of Doom's faithful stood back to back with his other mentor. He had been training with Doom and Forge for several years now and while he was not in their class, Stephen Strange could hold his own. Without hesitation, he quickly cast a spell of darkness, so that the light in the area they were fighting in suddenly became something less than half-light. It would even up the odds a little.

That said, it had been even before when the five of them had attacked the four mystics. Now two were dead and the five were still coming. Mordo's crushed body flew through the air, landing just short of Forge's feet, but his concentration was intense and even the broken, bleeding mess of a form that had once been his friend would not distract him. The same could not be said of Strange, who had seen his share when he was a surgeon, but nothing like this as Druid hit the floor in front of him, leaving a small crater and a mass of broken bones.

Mordo had been powerful but even he could not stand against the bludgeoning weight of the hulking behemoth that had appeared from behind. She had swatted him like a fly and Mordo was so rattled that he did not have time to cast a spell in defence. Then she grabbed him, her giant arms snapping his spine as she crushed him under the weight, blood spewing from his mouth and nose as his internal organs were forced to become a giant lump.

Druid had been dispatched even easier than that, his senses telling him of danger but not where from as some high frequency sound pierced his head, confusing his senses. Only too late did he manage to counter it as she swooped down, and lifted him high in to the air. Druid fought to take over her with his hypnotic gaze but the frequency changed to counter it, blocking every move he made and when she was high in the air she dropped him. He cried out, trying to cast a spell of levitation but the noise in his ears meant that he could not and he hit the floor with a sickening thud.

Of the two magi remaining, Forge reacted first, quickly sending out a blast of power from his arm cannon on to the other ground force, but the enemy had seemingly turned invisible and intangible so it passed by him. In reality he had just shifted his dimensional status to 2D and moved so the blast passed him and that he was simply impossible to be viewed by the naked eye. However to Forge's bionic eye, he was there and he knew who they were up against.

Stephen's reaction and the response to that had proven Forge right. Another figure had appeared and rushed towards them, and Stephen had summoned the flames of Faltine against this foe, frying him to a crisp in moments. Moments later he stood up and was coming at them again. Forge knew of these mutants and that was why he and Stephen now stood back to back. He knew of them for Doom had them on their guard at all times. The reason half of Forge's body was bionic was because of an attack on them by Wolverine. If it hadn't been for Doom he would have died for certain, and he knew that each day was one more than he should have by rights.

They mutants were run of the mill mutants, looked on as jokes by their peers and seemed to be no threat at all to their enemies. That was until Onslaught had taken them under his wing as more recruits in to his ever-growing army. He trained them, renamed them, reorganised them and made them in to a pale shadow of what they had once been.

'Storm Force' they were known as, and Forge could see how this had happened in his mind, his thoughts racing to make sense of things. Thanks to the abilities of the one they called Gate, the other four could attack from any side using one of his portals, rifts in time and space. That was how they had been ambushed so easily. Onslaught must be getting desperate he thought, to resort to this.

The lack of light hampered everyone but Forge and so he was calling the shots. They could feel the footsteps of the Thing as she stomped towards them. 2D was facing the right way so he could see him coming as well, but of the Undying there was no sign. Above them they could hear the sonic cry of Sauren, their heads pounding. Forge cut off the feed from his bionic ears, and cut off the noise. His sensory input allowed him to tell what frequency was and he unleashed a burst of white noise to counter it and suddenly she began an uncontrolled descent.

"Onslaught should have trained you better," he muttered, tapping Steven's heel with his own. It was their sign for a reversal manoeuvre. Strange tapped back with the other heel signalling that he was ready, and Forge's internal booster kicked in and he flew up and over the head of Strange, who spun on his heel and then both were facing the other way. Forge's bionic eye picked up on the portal half a second before it was fully opened and fired a blast right at it. It caught Undying as he was half emerged and it pushed him back in, the negative feedback on Gate causing him to collapse in psychic pain. The Undying would be with them shortly, which left just Thing and 2D to deal with.

"The flames and the darkness have taken a lot out of me," said Strange, as Forge turned to face the oncoming foes who were rapidly getting closer. "I don't think I have much left, especially with the earlier sonic attack."

"Keep 2D busy. I'll deal with the Thing," said Forge. He knew she was fairly invulnerable in her obese form, and there were very few things that could harm or affect her. Not only that her increased bulk was muscle, not fat, making her incredibly strong. "I'll try a reversion spell," he said and began to quickly recite the Navaho incantation as he ran towards her, hoping his metallic body would be able to withstand the stresses he was about to place upon it.

The use of a soul spell was not a move he would have chosen to make under other circumstances but he had no choice. This would be difficult, for if he miscast the spell his own soul would be caught and the reversal would affect him instead. She grasped hold of him with her mighty arms and began to squeeze, and the metals held, but under considerable stress so she began to push harder. Forge could feel what was still human beginning to crack and condense under the pressure as he muttered the words, refusing to give her the scream of pain that she craved, but he was having incredible difficulty casting the spell.

Strange was having no luck against 2D who avoided his attacks with ease, and began to wrap himself around the neophyte, constricting and preventing the mage from breathing. At the end of the day the magi was still human, after all. He still needed the basics of food, water and air. Then he felt a pair of arms grabbing him about the neck, trying to twist it and snap his neck, and he knew it was the Undying, seeking vengeance. When he recovered, his brain could not handle the regenerative stresses and it reduced him in nature to a feral creature, who wanted one thing: revenge.

Strange could feel himself starting to black out due to lack of air, and wondered what would get him first - that or having his neck broken. Then all of a sudden he could breathe and the pressure on his neck was released.

"How?" he asked and looked around to see his saviour hovering in the air, his body astride the subservient form of Sauren. "Doom," he whispered as the Lord of the Flight looked down on him. 2D was 2D no longer, the powers Doom had summoned glowing in the darkness, slowly rendering him as a one-dimensional being, no longer capable of interacting with the world.

"What of the Undying?" asked Strange, and Doom simply pointed to the floor, where there was a red blob, simply lying there. "The Crimson Bands," said Strange and Doom smiled. Even though it could be barely seen beneath his mask, his eyes betrayed his smile and he nodded to his young apprentice.

"He will die and resurrect and die and resurrect for all eternity, trapped in a living hell" said Doom. "A fitting end." He pulled on the reins around Sauren and she landed and he dismounted, taking Strange by the shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked and Strange nodded. "Good," he said and then they looked towards Forge. The Thing gave a scream and she collapsed, releasing the magi and with a considerable effort on his part, he fell to the floor and rolled out of the way before she landed on him.

"What did he do?" asked Strange, as they ran over to him.

"He showed her the truth of her soul. There are very few who can bear such a sight. She could not and her only defence was a total mental shut down of the facts. That created a conflict in her brain and it killed her. An aneurysm, to be precise." He knelt down beside him. "Impressive play."

"We lost Mordo and Druid," murmured Forge.

"The gift of surprise is often a great ally," said Doom and he activated the magnetic generators in his gauntlets and lifted Forge off the floor. "As these poor fools found to their cost."

"What of the bodies?" asked Strange, looking at their fallen comrades.

"Yes," said Doom, "I had not forgotten. The Eye of Agamotto that hung around his neck slowly opened, creating a light that ate away the darkness spell, and Doom motioned to the two dead mages, who rose in to the light, where their bodies slowly became ethereal and eventually faded in to nothingness.

"The Flight is diminished," said Doom.

"But we will endure," answered Forge and Strange. Then Doom turned and walked over to Sauren.

"Return to your master," he said. "Report what has happened here this day. The war continues." Sauren was silent as she flew away.

"How?" asked Forge.

"Later," said Doom. "We must return to the Flight. There are dark forces at work on the Earth plane."

Atlantis

Deep within the depths of what remained of Atlantis, it's ruler sat on his throne, his slave chained to the floor.

"So, Namor," he said. "It appears that Doom has finally discovered what is transpiring here. He has discovered what Onslaught can and has not." He looked out of the window and the city, a city in flames, but a city expanding at an exponential rate. "Between Onslaught and the X-Men in all their forms of existence and the changes wrought on this plane, they have allowed for my coming."

Namor looked at him in defiant subservience but did not answer. In truth he could not. He had traded one dark master for another, and this one was slowly corrupting his subjects and making them a people of his own possession. The demons were slowly invading the Earth and using Atlantis as their starting point.

Namor had done Onslaught's bidding for a long time, but then came Galactus. The power of the man had been awesome, cosmic and vast. Galactus had come to devour the Earth but Onslaught's armies had driven him away, with the aid of some of their most implacable foes. In such an emergency a truce had been called but it did not last. Now Galactus was gone, trapped within a pocket dimension discovered by Doom, where they too had their own heroes and people and places.

Doom had discovered it just prior to the arrival of the world eater and he had surmised that it was a twin of sorts to our own possibly created in some kind of cosmic battle before recorded time, however he never had a chance to test those theorems as once Galactus was there, he and Onslaught had sealed the dimensional gates allowing access from one world to the other. Galactus was exiled to that universe forever, and was someone else's problem now.

However during the conflict Atlantis seemingly vanished, along with its entire people. Onslaught could find no trace of his underwater kingdom either psionically or by using his agents for a physical investigation. Therefore it was only logical to assume it was destroyed in the battle. The truth was indeed different.

Galactus had a herald whom Onslaught had confronted as ruler of the planet. The silver being had been unprepared for the defiance of the power of Onslaught as he ripped through his mind, learning the truth about his presence. At the same time, Onslaught removed the damage done to the beings mind by his master, restoring his conscience and morality. Then Onslaught had cast the creature away and went to prepare.

Namor had come across the silver being and they had battled until the silver being had come to his senses and he sympathised with Namor's plight and had used his powers to hide Atlantis from Onslaught, trying to make amends for leading his former master here. With Galactus gone, he was free to return home and he left the Earth, leaving its inhabitants to their own battle.

But the battle had not gone unnoticed by other beings in the universe, who had been watching Galactus and his herald for a long time, plotting to take them for his own. Now he would only have, could only have the silver being and the denial of Galactus made him angry and so he vowed revenge. As time went by the dimensional walls weakened due to the damage done by Legion, by Onslaught's actions and by Doom's defending of the Earth realm.

Eventually there had been sufficient space to enter the Earth realm and merge Atlantis with a portion of his own. With the mask created by the silver creature, he entered unnoticed by any and slowly began his takeover. Namor had been the first to fall and the rest of Atlantis soon followed. Now his plans had been discovered, but it had only been a matter of time before he was betrayed by one of his associates.

"Come Namor. There are preparations to make."

El Tatalicos

Back at the Inca temple that Doom had taken for his base of operations for the Flight on the small island of El Tatalicos, he sat down in his chair as he made entries in the book of Vishanti, the chronicle of all things magical and mystical, and Forge entered.

"Stephen is resting," he said. "Dahkim and Amanda are looking after him."

"He will endure," said Doom, without looking up "He is strong, and he has great potential." He turned towards him at this point looking over the new modifications made. "How are your new bionics?"

"I've lost another part of my humanity. There are days I wonder how much of it will be left."

"The most dangerous people I know are those who are damaged," said Doom. "They know they can survive." Forge nodded. It was not yet his time and he knew it as well as Doom.

"You said there was a disturbance."

"Yes. The Dark Dimension has been subdued. Behold..." He lifted his hands high, his middle two fingers bent in and pressed in to his palms, the other two pointed out and his thumbs pointed out towards the walls. A tear in time and space opened to a place Doom referred to as the Negative Zone. Here he stored many items of a mystic nature, separated from the rest of the universe and out of harms way, guarded by a being called Annhilus, in return for domination of the Zone. In a glass cage waiting to be taken away was something that Forge knew. "The head of Dormammu."

"After all these years," breathed Forge. "I take it you and the lady Clea were successful?"

"Yes," said Doom with a smile. "She is there, her forces from Faltine are finishing off the Dark Dimension. I knew there was a trouble when the flames were summoned and I came as soon as I could finish Dormammu. The combination of science and magic was too much for him."

"So the war is over?"

"Faltine's war, yes. However I learnt something that disturbed me. Earth realm has been invaded. Dormammu gave me the information in exchange for his life. I wasn't feeling generous."

"But how could you not know?" asked Forge. "Surely the Eye..."

"This is something hidden from even the Eye of Agamotto. The power cosmic is in play here. It has hidden the golden realm," he whispered.

"Where?"

"Pay it no mind," said Doom. "However, there is an army of demons and half-breeds on the Earth realm, hidden from all." He gestured and the dimensional doorway closed.

"Whose demons are they?" asked Forge. There were that many realms out there with their own kinds of demons it was almost impossible to guess who commanded those that were on Earth.

"Mephisto - Lord of Hell, or at least one version of it. Long have I searched for him, and now I know why I have been unable to find him. I must confront him directly or soon nobody will be able to challenge them."

"I will prepare..." started Forge.

"No," commanded Doom. "You will stay and rest. Await the return of Clea and then come to me. She will know where to find me."

"Of course." Doom and Clea had been romantically linked for years now and they had a connection beyond anything the others could claim.

"Take care. Onslaught's forces are scattered far and wide. The X-Men are striking out. There is more afoot than this and with the opposing forces so divided, now would be the time for a cataclysm. The signs are there. Be wary. Be cautious. Find out what you can but be aware for an attack from some quarter."

"Yes," said Forge and took his leave, to announce the departure of the Lord of the Flight and to make preparations. Nobody ever accused Doom of being overly cautious and Doom looked up Mephisto in the book of Vishanti. There was more behind this than the invasion for Doom. Mephisto had the soul of his mother.

"I will free you," he said. "I swear it."

There were preparations to make.