Sniper Wolf

Sniper Wolf lay prone on the rooftop, waiting for the moment her target would appear. He was a politician, a sympathizer to the Hussein regime, and the very best kind of mark. The kind of mark that cries out for death with every action; seeing him drop to the concrete, limp and lifeless would be the sweetest feeling Sniper Wolf had felt in a long time, likely since she first met Big Boss, her Saladin.

She’d been lying motionless on the rooftop since the target had entered the hotel he was staying in across the street. Judging by the noontime sun, that was about 2 days ago. Various black cars had pulled up and unloaded official looking passengers, but he never left the building. His business came to him, a trend Sniper Wolf was all too happy to oblige.

Suddenly, there he was. Black, pressed suit, greasy hair and a cocky swagger. She knew everything there was to know about him. Where he was born, his parent’s names, his favourite foods, his medical history and even how often he used the washroom. She knew him more intimately than a lover. All for the sole purpose of being better able to end his life.

She didn’t need to calculate the shot. She did that constantly. Every moment, she gauged wind speed, temperature, positions of other bystanders. She didn’t simply wait for the shot to present itself, she was constantly taking the shot in her mind, obsessing over every detail. So, without hesitation, worry, or a final recalibration, she pulled the trigger. She felt the gun jump, heard the sweet crack of it firing- once from the gun and once more when it echoed in the distance, longer and more drawn out. Suddenly, she heard something she didn’t expect – a voice. “Excellent shot, marksman… now let’s see what you’re really made of.”

Before she could even confirm her kill or even see who had spoken, the world went dark.

Deadshot

Arkham City. All of Gotham’s filthy scumbags in one huge barrel. For most, it was a nightmare… but for Deadshot, it was a dream come true. He had come on a contract from Hugo Strange to take out 6 targets for a healthy chunk of change. The money, however, was only half of it… the icing on the cake was that one of those targets was Batman. Not only that, but another was Bruce Wayne… an easier target to be sure, but it was always so satisfying taking out those pretty boys.

Unfortunately it never got that far… he got 3 of the targets and Batman had thwarted him again. The world’s greatest detective was supposed to die at the hands of the world’s greatest assassin, but now he was trapped in this train car and Batman was probably sending some cops to do his dirty work. Deadshot still had his list though… Jack Ryder. Bruce Wayne. Batman. Each of them had a bullet with their name on it. And Deadshot never missed a target.

All of a sudden, he felt uncomfortable, as if someone was watching him… but he couldn’t hear a thing. A voice crept into his mind, “I see you’ve gotten yourself in quite a predicament, marksmen… but I believe that you have more talent than you’ve shown here. So, I offer you this contract: Kill a target given to you by me and I’ll free you. Fail your mission or deny your orders… and you can stay here and rot.”

He needed only a moment to mull it over. Looks like Batman would have to wait… Deadshot had a new hit list.

What do you think? Which sharpshooter will take out the other? Let us know in the comments!

Illustration by Scott Ethan Ambruson

The Fight

Boba Fett quickly adjusted to his new surroundings – the stench of the innards of the Sarlacc replaced by crisp, clear air. He found himself in some sort of city – certainly not on Tattooine. Tall, pristine buildings swooped upward on all sides of him. With a quick burst from his jetpack, the bounty hunter flew to the top of one of these to survey his surroundings. There were buildings as far as the eye could see, but Boba didn’t detect a single life form. Far in the sky above there floated some sort of orbital station. Far below, he suddenly saw another being blink into existence.

When Master Chief awoke, he was not aboard The Forward Unto Dawn any longer – not on any ship by the looks of things. Chief reached back and found his assault rifle attached to his back. At least he was armed. Suddenly a voice boomed from the sky.

“Listen up soldiers, now that you’ve both arrived, here is your mission: find each other. Neutralize your opponent. Use whatever means necessary.”

Master Chief grunted. He didn’t relish the feeling of being used a pawn or play-thing for some unseen creature, but he certainly wouldn’t let himself be caught unawares. He cocked his rifle and began moving cautiously through the streets of this labyrinth of streets.

Boba Fett, however, did not feel any such resentment. Moments ago he was trapped in the maw of some horrendous sand beast. Taking out a single man all alone was a welcome reprieve. He watched from above, his sensors scanning his opponent. The man was built like a tank – huge, and very well-armored. Boba flew down to street level falling behind, the armored man walking through the streets, and pulled out his carbine rifle. He landed, lined up his shot, and blasted Master Chief in the back. The blast dissipated in what appeared to be a personal energy shield, and the man immediately dropped in a roll, diving for cover down an alleyway – he moved faster than almost any man Boba had seen, certainly far faster than anyone so heavily armored.

Master Chief remained crouched behind some heavy concrete slabs which appeared to have been places in the alley for this specific purpose. The man had caught him by surprise, but Chief’s shields were already recharging from the blast. His assault rifle was pointed at the opening of the alley, and when the bounty hunter came flying around the corner, he immediately opened fire. The blasts didn’t seem to overly affect Fett, however they did force him to the ground. Chief’s opponent had also continued firing his rifle, scoring few hits against the soldier behind cover. However, Master Chief knew that he couldn’t take many more blasts from that rifle.

The fuel-tank of Boba’s jetpack had been punctured by a bullet, forcing him to land – not that it really mattered, as he only had about 20 more seconds of fuel left anyway. But, much to the bounty hunter’s annoyance, his prey had holed himself up behind a barrier. Boba ran forward, flooding the air fire from his wrist-mounted flamethrower, hoping to flush out the soldier. The effort was a success, but to Boba’s surprise, the huge Spartan-II soldier leaped over the concrete barrier and charged headlong into the flames, the fire seeming to have little effect on him.

Master Chief had switched his assault rifle for his pistol, and charged forward. He knew he couldn’t wait the barrage out – his shields were gone and the masked man did not appear to be anywhere close to out of ammo. So he charged, depending on his sturdy MJOLNIR mark VI armor to protect him from the flames. He fired off a few shots, mostly to throw off his opponent as he dove in to tackle him to the ground. Boba Fett’s feet left the ground as the huge man plowed into him, and he tossed his rifle as he fell, reaching instead for his blaster pistol. Before he had a chance to pull it forward, however, Master Chief had the hand pinned in a vice-like grip. His other hand fell again and again with hand clanks against the bounty hunter’s helmet, adding a few more dents, and his heavy foot pressed against the armor plate on his chest. Boba Fett ceased his struggling as Master Chief pressed his pistol against the hunter’s throat. “Surrender,” Chief commanded in his gravelly voice.

Before he even had a chance to respond, Boba Fett vanished from beneath him. Master Chief stood, confused. The voice from above boomed once again.

“Congratulations soldier. You’ve made the team. Now rest up until I need you again.” The world faded to black.

The Outcome

Victory – Master Chief. A very close match, and thank you all for your feedback. Having some technical advantages, Boba Fett may gain an immediate advantage – however, his jetpack can only sustain short bursts of flight, and once the fight is on the ground, Master Chief has the advantage in movement and strength. If the battle comes to close quarters, Master Chief dominates the match.

Blade stalked the straight alleys and streets of the strange new locale, searching for his prey. The strangeness of the situation had not completely washed away, but it seemed the only thing to do was to obey and deal with the outcomes later. Besides, if his opponent was as deadly as the strange voice would have him believe, any hesitation could mean death. Eric had no intention of letting that happen. He held his katana in one hand as he slowly moved from street to street, listening for any sign of movement. In his other hand, he held a UV flashbang grenade. Though devastating to vampiric opponents, it would still stop any other foe in his tracks for long enough for Blade to make a move.

Drizzt moved along the narrow streets, crouched and moving as fast he could. He hoped to find his foe quickly and, using the element of surprise, incapacitate him and learn more of his predicament. The hard ground and clean streets he found himself in made tracking difficult, but the master hunter had his ways. It wasn’t long before Drizzt had a trail and found his opponent; human, by the looks of him, armed with a sword. The large man was doing his best to remain stealthy, darting down streets, but Drizzt was able to tail him without much difficulty. Finally, his quarry stopped a moment and Drizzt made his move.

Blade checked his weapons as he peered down yet another street, seemingly identical to the last. This was proving tiresome. It seemed he might be trapped here longer than he thought searching for this enemy. Not a second after this crossed his mind, Blade was dropped to a knee by a kick to his leg. Using the forward momentum, he rolled away from his assailant and stood, facing his strange foe, sword in hand. The odd creature had dark skin contrasted by stark white hair and wielded two swords. Finally, they could get this over with. Without a word, Blade charged forward, katana held high, to gauge his enemy’s strength.

Drizzt had hoped to talk to his enemy before fighting, but he had weathered his surprise attack well and now seemed intent on combat. So be it. Wielding Twinkle and Icingdeath with incredible efficiency, Drizzt deflected blow after blow from his foe. He was very skilled with the weapon, but Drizzt could feel that he was already pushing himself… while Drizzt was only getting started. He increased the pressure and soon had the human on the defensive, sweat growing on his brow. Suddenly, Drizzt’s gaze dropped to his enemy’s other hand, as it pulled back and hurled the object it contained directly at him. Drizzt rolled back, and the cylinder came harmlessly to rest before him. The dark elf prepared to renew his assault, but noticed his enemy turned away and covering his ears… What could he –

Blade felt the pop of the grenade’s explosion and turned to see the dark skinned creature reel. He covered his eyes and seemed to be far more disoriented than a normal human would be. All the better, thought Blade. He sheathed his katana and drew his pistol, intending to end this from a safe distance. Eric levelled his weapon at his opponent, but as soon as he lined a shot, the white haired man darted away, hand still at his brow. Blade fired two quick shots toward the retreating foe.

Whatever that explosive device had been, it had shocked Drizzt completely. He hadn’t felt so disoriented and blinded since his first days after leaving the Underdark. To make matters worse, some sort of projectile had struck his back as he fled, hitting him after two loud reports came from his opponents direction. His armor protected him, but he could feel the bruise already. This enemy was lethal, a more powerful foe than Drizzt had seen in some time. He would need to call on Guenhwyvar. Drizzt pulled out his figurine and began the process of summoning her from the Astral Plane… no sooner than he began however, did he hear the disembodied voice once more, this time seeming to speak directly to his mind, “Sorry, ranger, you’ll have to rely on your own talents to win this fight…  No reinforcements, this time!”

He was on his own, then. His two swords and abilities against his foe and these new ranged weapons he was using. Drizzt leaned against the corner and peaked around to see if his opponent had moved. He was answered by another loud crack and a whizzing sound not far from his head. He had the ranger pinned down.

Blade crouched low behind a ledge that sheltered him from his enemy’s sight. He braced his pistol on the ledge to offer some increased accuracy… if only he had something with a little more firepower. Unfortunately, his standard array of equipment didn’t include any guns other than his pistols with silver bullets. Still, he was in the better position by this point. Now it was just a waiting game. Suddenly the world went dark and Blade couldn’t see anything at all. His hand still rested against the ledge, but he was completely blind. He fired two more shots into the darkness, trying to remain calm despite being now totally disoriented. He fired the last bullets in his clip toward his enemy’s last known location and then dropped the gun in favour of his katana.

Drizzt circled around the alleyways, coming at where his opponent seemed to be firing from from the side, rather than approaching him head on. A few more loud cracks coming from the area covered in the darkness he had created seemed to say that that had been a wise decision. Twinkle and Icingdeath in hand, Drizzt leaped into the impenetrable darkness, hoping he hadn’t underestimated the man once again.

Blade listened in the darkness for any sign of attack. His katana was directly in front of him and he backpedaled slowly, eventually finding a wall to back against. A sudden sound to his left caused him to raise his sword in defense and he immediately felt the shock of another object slamming into it. His enemy was attacking him and he was blind. Blade remained calm and relied on instinct and sound to carry him through the fight.

Drizzt had found his enemy in the darkness after he heard him thump against a wall of some sort. Unfortunately, he was just as blind as the enemy, but at least this stopped him from firing on Drizzt from a distance. With darkness everywhere, Drizzt, too, relied on sound and instinct to carry him through the fight, each swing of the sword was a brush stroke intended to etch out a painting of the enemy before him, how he was standing, how he moved. Drizzt let his instincts take over and his blades swung faster and faster, occasionally finding only air, occasionally bouncing off the opponent’s sword. Finally, Drizzt felt the familiar resistance of flesh. With that, the darkness vanished and Drizzt found himself standing alone in the alley, his enemy gone. He crouched, ready to find a new vantage point and defend against ambush, when the now familiar voice spoke again.

“Well fought, Dark Elf. You proved to be the stronger of the two combatants, even overcoming a severe disadvantage in terms of ordinance. Welcome to this man’s army, soldier.”

The Outcome

Victory – Drizzt. Blade’s abilities are absolutely devastating to undead and vampiric opponents, but more ordinary enemies can give him trouble. While the UV certainly hinders Drizzt due to his light sensitivity, it doesn’t harm him as it once might have due to his long stay on the surface world. Blade’s guns will certainly give him the upper hand, but as the bullets are hollow point, they don’t have the penetrating power to puncture Drizzt’s armor, which will act much like a Kevlar vest. Drizzt is a smart enough fighter to recognize the need to limit Blade’s ranged capability and once he does so, he is by far the better swordsman.

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Steve looked around at the desolate city surrounding him. It was like nothing he had ever seen, alleys twisting into abrupt ends, light seeming to emanate from everywhere and no matter how far he moved towards or away from the spire in the distance it never seemed to get any further or closer. All this was pressing on the back of Cap’s mind as he focused on his primary objective: find this enemy and deal with him. After that, this mystery could be unraveled. Finding this elusive foe could prove to be the more challenging endeavor, however, as it was nearly impossible to get one’s bearing in this labyrinthine city…

Leonidas stalked the streets of the great arena. He silently moved from alleyway to alleyway, building to building, hunting his prey. A lifetime of harsh Spartan life was perfect preparation for this macabre challenge, and Leonidas was glad his hunting skills were not dull. He had yet to see his enemy, but had seen traces of him. Traces of tracks left by his thick, booted feet had given Leonidas the clues he needed to hunt him down and execute him. Suddenly as Leonidas crouched and rounded a corner, he saw his quarry. He was walking away down the nearest alley in a ridiculous costume of brilliant red and blue. Leonidas couldn’t imagine what sort of fool would ever wear something as vibrant as that, let alone into battle. No matter, however, as the fight would now be over nearly before it even began. Hefting his spear into his hand, he prepared to deliver a devastating ranged strike and hamstring his opponent.

Captain America began to get the strange feeling of being watched. A split second later he heard a slight shuffle as a foot slid along the dirt and he whirled to see the spear flying towards him. He moved his leg away from the projectile, but not before it cut a gash into his calf. With barely any time to react, the nearly naked man roared and charged toward him, sword and shield in hand. Relying on his battle instincts now, Cap drew back and threw his shield with all his might. It rocketed towards the enemy warrior, sure to stop him in his tracks. However, the man leaped and, in an astounding show of acrobatics, rolled his body above the flying disc before landing in a small cloud of dirt.

Leonidas certainly hadn’t been expecting that. The shield seemed to be his foe’s only weapon, what sort of fool would throw it away for nothing? Leonidas pulled his shield from the holster on his back, treating the man in the strange outfit warily. This would no longer be a quick fight, as the man had strength he had not foreseen, as shown in the might with which he hurled his shield. Leonidas waited for the enemy to charge and continue the assault, but he did nothing, only waited. Was he waiting for a continued attack and hoping to defend better than attack? Or was there something else… Leonidas’ battle sense acted almost before his mind comprehended. He swung around to see the shield returning towards him, with no less force than it had the first time he dodged it. He raised his own shield quickly and was knocked backward by the force.

Steve saw his shield slam into his opponents and immediately gained immense respect for the warrior. Somehow he had managed to realize what was happening and raise his own defense. The warrior’s own shield shattered from the impact, becoming a useless hunk of metal, and Captain America’s shield clattered away down a nearby alley. He had to strike now. Steve ran towards the enemy and landed a blow to his back, but the warrior soon turned, sword in hand. A delicate dance of swing and dodge began until Cap landed a debilitating blow to the foes wrist, knocking his sword to the ground. Relief washed over Steve… things were finally starting to go in his favor and that would prevent any further nasty gashes like the one on his leg.

Leonidas smiled and stepped back for a moment. Both combatants were left with nothing but their own might, skill and knowledge. A true warrior’s test. “Well fought, soldier” spoke Leonidas, “The Elysian Fields will welcome you when I squeeze the life from your body. Know that your loss brings you no shame.”

This fellow was really something else. Cap had a hard time thinking of when he’d had a closer fight, but before he could respond, the warrior charged towards him and they locked arms. He was incredibly strong, far more than Steve had been expecting. Soon the fight had them both on the ground, struggling for advantage and wrestling in the dirt and dust of the arena. They grappled for what felt like ages, each gaining control over the other for a few moments before losing it again, until finally Cap found himself under the weight of his opponent. He drew back a fist to begin pummelling Steve. The blow came down square into Steve’s face, but unknown to his opponent, he had been hoping for exactly that. The force of the punch had forced the weight of Cap’s lower body and allowed him to free his legs. In a fluid movement, Steve Rogers bent his body to wrap his lower legs around his foes neck in a deadly triangle choke. He squeezed with all his might while the burly soldier struggled and rained blows onto his chest and against the arms Cap had raised to protect his face. In a few moments, the enemy went limp and suddenly disappeared.

Captain America stood, dazed and shaking. Blood poured forth from where his nose had split open. His hands were weak and beginning to swell and bruise. Slowly, he walked towards where his shield had fallen as he heard the voice once again.

“Excellent battle, soldier! Never have I seen such ferocity, such finesse! Well done… now collect your iconic shield, and come … meet your new team.”

The Outcome

Victory – Captain America. Leonidas is a truly imposing warrior, and an exemplar of human fitness and near-perfect conditioning. However Captain America IS at perfect human performance levels. This coupled with his knowledge of multiple martial arts and battlefield tactics gives him the advantage, however slim, over the warrior-king, Leonidas.

Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed as he un-clipped his lightsaber from his belt. The blade of light flashed open with a hiss. He focused on the presence of his opponent, and approached cautiously.

“I have a bad feeling about this…” he muttered. He walked down a narrow corridor, tall, crumbling stone walls on either side. His bright blue lightsaber hummed and illuminated the shadows. As his Jedi senses told him that he drew closer to the unseen stranger, the corridor opened into a wide clearing.

Obi-Wan paused for a moment, then leaped into the clearing, prepared for anything. His eyes swept around him as he raised his lightsaber, ready to strike – but there was no one to be seen.

The T-1000 oozed up from a pool of liquid metal behind the human holding the glowing tool, silently taking form. Analysis of the item reported plasma within a containment field – most likely a weapon. It must be neutralized.

As soon as the machine had taken his humanoid form he moved with inhuman speed, reaching his hands around Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan spun at the last instant, detecting the danger, but not quickly enough to stop the T-1000 from knocking the lightsaber from his hand and sending it clattering across the clearing. The Terminator’s steely grip squeezed around his throat and forced him to the ground in one fluid movement. Lights danced in front of the Jedi’s eyes as his oxygen supply diminished. The T-1000 raised its other arm to strike, morphing the forearm and hand into a long, silver blade, its gleaming tip poised to plunge into Obi-Wan’s face.

The Jedi gathered his will and channeled the Force, thrusting both hands between his body and the strange being straddling him. His Force Push blasted the T-1000 off of him and through one of the crumbling walls of the adjacent buildings. Obi-Wan struggled to his feet.

“Shapeshifters.” he grunted, and moved toward the hole in the wall. As the dust settled he saw his opponent lying still, several broken metal pipes protruding through his body.

Suddenly, unbelievably, the T-1000 melted away into a puddle of silver, before inching forward and slowly regaining his shape. In a moment, he stood fully formed before Obi-Wan once more. His arms now both flowed into long blades. In a burst of motion, he sped towards the Jedi, blades flashing in a whirlwind.

Obi-Wan flipped backwards, just out of reach of the metal blades, pulling his lightsaber from across the clearing and activating it in an instant. The glowing blade flashed once, twice, and the metal bladed arms fell to the ground.

The T-1000 paused and looked up at Obi-Wan, smirking. No sooner had his arms hit the ground than they turned to liquid and reformed with his body. Once more the blades formed, and with inhuman speed whipped outward, stretching to cover the distance between the two opponents. Obi-Wan quickly spun to avoid, but one blade slashed cleanly through his bicep. He cried in pain and once again slashed off the metal appendage. With a powerful blast of Force energy, he grabbed the Terminator and pinned him to the ground. Leaping to cover the distance, his lightsaber flashed again and again in a dance of blue light, slashing off every limb and slicing the torso into tiny chunks. Splatters of liquid metal flew out in all directions.

Finally, Obi-Wan plunged his blade directly into the blankly staring face and held it there. The T-1000′s head quickly melted and warped as it desperately tried to compensate for all the damage.

Then, an instant later, the T-1000 was simply gone, and Obi-Wan Kenobi knelt on the ground, lightsaber blade hilt-deep in the stone street. A familiar voice boomed from above.

“Well done, Master Jedi. You overcame a particularly difficult foe. You can rest now, and meditate… but don’t worry, I see that I will have need of you again soon enough… “

The Outcome

Victory – Obi-Wan Kenobi. The T-1000′s main advantage is in his resilience and ability to heal himself, but it is not a “perfect” healing factor – accumulated damage will eventually take its toll. Obi-Wan matches the Terminator in terms of speed and surpasses in terms of fighting ability – combined with his Force Powers and Lightsaber, it is close, but he will take the fight.

Wrex came to his senses quickly… He’d been taken to some other place by this disembodied voice, for what? To fight? As strange as the situation was, Wrex found himself smiling. Finally, a chance to see some action instead of preventing petty infighting between his people. He was hopeful that his opponent would be worthy… but doubtful this would prove to be the case. Unlatching his shotgun from his back, Wrex fired two shots into the sky. “I am Urdnot Wrex, Chieftain of the great clan Urdnot! I’ve got a planet to run, so let’s get this over with!”

Bane heard the shots nearby. Apparently his opponent was an utter fool. Giving up any possibility of surprise? Smiling beneath his mask, Bane took off as quietly as his hulking frame allowed heading towards the noise. Before long he was close. He slowed his approach and edged near the corner of a crumbling stone structure.
Bane’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his opponent… he was like nothing he had ever seen. He was huge and hulking, much like Bane himself with yellowed skin, a huge hump and a jagged scar down his face. He paced a large courtyard, surrounded by tall stone buildings and a dried fountain standing in its middle. Bane would not be intimidated, however. Waiting for his opponent to turn his back, Bane leaped from cover and charged towards the alien creature.

Wrex whirled at the last minute to see a man, larger than any he’d ever seen, charging at him with ferocious speed. It was all he could do to raise his shotgun and fire a quick blast before the brute was upon him. The shot was a definite miss, but it grazed the man slightly. He didn’t slow at all, however. Wrex was pushed backwards, barely managing to keep his feet by wheeling his arms behind him, a weakness his foe exploited by wrenching the shotgun from his hands and throwing it across the courtyard. The two giants stood feet apart, staring each other down.

“Weapons?” laughed Bane, “Fight me like a man!”

Wrex smiled and raised his hand. The air around his hands warped and turned purple before a bolt of energy shot forth, slamming into Bane’s chest. Bane was launched clean off his feet and through the stone wall behind him. It would be some time before his implants recharged enough to perform another manoeuvre like that, but Wrex wasn’t concerned. As the dust settled, Wrex smiled and shouted, “Fight me like a krogan!”

Pulling himself from the rubble, Bane struggled to comprehend what had happened. This Wrex, a… krogan, was it? Was incredibly strong… He would need more than just his mind and natural abilities to defeat him. Venom was the only way. Bane reached across to his wrist and greatly increased the Venom injection rate. Now this alien would know who he was dealing with. Bane was suddenly flush with vigor as the Venom poured through his veins; his muscles bulged and he threw himself forward, knocking away any rubble that stood in his way.

Wrex saw his opponent charging and realized immediately he had underestimated him. He seemed to be even larger and was bearing down on him with a speed that was decidedly inhuman. He steeled himself for the impact. Bane slammed into him with such force that both of the brutes went flying backward through the air, demolishing another stone wall. There would be much damage before this was finished. Bane landed on top of the krogan, covered in debris, but didn’t slow himself for a second – he couldn’t afford to. He gripped the alien’s suit with both hands and grunting with effort tossed him back into the courtyard.

Bane rushed back into the open after his prey, hoping to avoid any falling debris by moving the fight into the clear courtyard. Wrex had managed to regain his footing and prepared himself for a close quarters brawl, which Bane was all too eager to oblige. The two titans locked arms, trying to wrestle the other to the ground, the only sound the heavy breathing and enraged grunting of desperation. Slowly but steadily, Bane began to push his foe back, until the krogan threw back his head and delivered a monstrous headbutt to Bane’s masked face. Startled, Bane slid back and Wrex started to gain the upper hand. Regaining his composure, Bane drew his own head back, and returned the favour, cracking his skull into the krogan’s bony head-plate. This time, it was Wrex’s turn to falter.

The huge human capitalized on the momentary lapse and began swinging at Wrex. Blow after blow rained down on him and it was all Wrex could do to keep them from landing unimpeded. His implants had recharged enough that he was able to throw up a biotic barrier to mitigate the damage, but for the first time Wrex was concerned it wouldn’t be enough. His thick, krogan arms were able to stop the powerful assaults, but only for so long and his own attacks couldn’t come as fast as the human’s could. Wrex had to hope he could wear his enemy down.

Bane threw another titanic punch to his opponents gut. He was powerful and Bane knew he would wear out before this creature did, as he barely seemed to be breaking a sweat, even though Bane was landing multiple shots. “You’re strong,” he said, “but you have to be more than that.”

He threw another fist at the krogans face, but it was deflected. Bane’s other fist managed to connect to his enemy’s side, but it seemed to do little damage. His skin and armor was nearly impervious to damage. “A true battle… against a worthy opponent… is like a game of chess” Bane spoke between throwing punches and trying to find weakness, “If you throw all your might at the enemy… you will only waste your power.”

A blow to the thigh did nothing to stumble Wrex, he was weathering the damage incredibly well. “Better to gauge and assess weakness… to let your foe throw his pawns away in vain…”

He aimed a mighty kick at the krogans oddly shaped legs and succeeded in staggering him, the alien’s head ducking forward. Finally, Bane had his chance. He clasped his hands together over his head and slammed them onto the hump on Wrex’s back. “And when your opponent betrays his weakness,” Bane said, grabbing the now prone krogan by the neck of his armor and his waist, “you must crush him without mercy.”

It took all of his strength, but slowly, Bane lifted Wrex above his head. Wrex struggled constantly, but once he was clear of the ground, there was little he could do to stop the incredibly powerful human. His implants had not recharged from the last use and he was helpless. With a roar of primal rage, Bane brought the huge alien crashing down over his knee, pressing downward until he felt the satisfying crack of his armor and then his spine. Exhausted, he let his limp opponent fall to the ground. “Checkmate,” he muttered.

Bane stood and walked away. He was utterly exhausted and damaged from the fight, but glad he had gotten the beast down quickly. His strength was incredible. Suddenly Bane heard a loud blast and was thrown to the ground, his back stinging with white hot pain. Turning slowly and agonizingly, he looked back and saw the krogan standing, smoking shotgun in hand.

“You talk too much,” he snarled.

Wrex wasted no time and leaped upon his downed opponent raining blows onto his face savagely. He was so filled with bloodlust that it was moments before he realized that his fist was now punching a crater into the dirt and that his enemy had disappeared.

“Excellent fight, krogan! Deliciously ferocious and wonderfully feral,” boomed the disembodied voice from all around Wrex, “Take your leave and rest until I call upon you once more…”

The Outcome

Victory – Wrex. Both are hugely strong brutes capable of inflicting massive damage. While Bane may have a slight edge in terms of strength and intelligence, Wrex is able to weather damage of a larger magnitude for far longer than Bane, and krogan organ redundancy only makes it nearly impossible for Bane to incapacitate him and gives Wrex the advantage.

Ezio leaped across the rooftops of the strange new city he found himself in. Though crumbled and decaying, they were more than adequate to support him; in fact, they were not unlike the crumbling buildings of old Rome. Ezio wondered to himself where he was and how he’d gotten here… but there wasn’t much time for questions. Whoever had brought him here hadn’t seen fit to give him many answers, other than that hesitation could mean death. The master assassin had no desire to see what would happen if he ignored the voice’s warnings. Finding a higher vantage point, he scanned the ruins with his eagle eye.

Ra’s al Ghul was also busy at work preparing for this unexpected showdown. He had decided to hole up and take a defensive approach to the fight. He had no idea what to expect from his opponent, so he would take no foolish risks. With the meager equipment he had on him when he was transported, Ra’s was busy rigging the building he had found himself in with traps to cripple his opponent. It was fortunate he had been busy at work when he was taken here. He still had many of his alchemical concoctions on hand, many of which would prove vitally useful. A vial of acid atop a creaky door would give his enemy pause. Childish and simple, certainly, but it would get the job done. He drank a potion himself to bring clarity to his mind and strength to his arm. Ra’s toyed with the vial of hallucinogenic that was intended for Batman – certainly it would give an advantage. He kept it on his belt and would only use it if absolutely necessary. It had taken far too long to synthesize to warrant use on some simple fool.

A yellow glow through the mist alerted Ezio to the location of his opponent. He was hunched over, tinkering with something. Then Ezio noticed a few minor reddish glows through his eagle eye… traps! His opponent was no fool and had been preparing for him. Ezio smiled to himself and leaped from the building he stood upon. He approached the door silently and cautiously, carefully being aware of any other possible traps that he had not yet seen. The best approach would be fast, silent and ferocious. Ezio checked his hidden gun one last time. Hopefully, this would be quick and simple. With a powerful kick, Ezio sent the door swinging inward. The vial that had been waiting for his head smashed harmlessly to the floor. In a single deft movement, Ezio raised his arm towards the cloaked figure across the room. He took aim and fired, but a moment too late. His adversary had thrown something to the ground and disappeared in a flash and puff of smoke. This may have been a mistake.

Ra’s was pleased. His opponent was no simpleton, but had known the best possible method for flushing him out of his hole… he was skilled, indeed. However, he remained unconcerned as he approached the white clothed figure from behind. He knew not who he was dealing with, and that would be his downfall. As Ra’s drew his sword quickly, his opponent whirled, drawing his own sword. A duel, then. Ra’s was all too eager to begin.
The two swords clashed, the clatter ringing through the abandoned city. Ra’s pressed forward with his scimitar with unbridled fury and inhuman strength lent to him by his potions. It was all Ezio could do to keep the sword from biting flesh. He was pushed back through the doorway as blow after blow rained down on him. It was clear that he would be victorious in this manner. Ra’s continued forward, smiling toothily. A few more moments and his opponent would be worn down and defeated. Ezio felt the stone wall against his back and knew he would have to change this situation or face the cold bite of his enemy’s steel. Desperately, he dove forward using all his strength to push his opponent back. These vials he had seemed to be the key to his power… perhaps Ezio could use them to his own advantage. With a mighty swing, he pushed the saber away and reached forward to the orange vial on his foe’s belt. It came loose easily and Ezio raised it above his head. Ra’s realized what was happening, but too late. He cried out as the vial came crashing down.

“No, you fool!”

The world exploded in an orange haze and Ezio wasted no time. He turned and ran out the opposite door to regroup. There was no way he would defeat his enemy head on like that… he was far too powerful, a master swordsman. As Ezio climbed atop the neighboring building and leaped to the next, he noticed something was different… the light was clearer, sunnier. Was he home? As he looked over the cusp of the building, he realized what it was. The city was no longer deserted. Crowds of people bustled to and fro conducting mundane business. Was this some new trick to keep things interesting? No matter, Ezio thought – he would try and use it to his advantage to trap his opponent.

Ra’s was fuming. This imbecile had destroyed months of work in an act of futile desperation and in so doing had complicated matters. Now they had these imaginary crowds to deal with. Ra’s however, knew he had the advantage. He was well aware of how fake this was, that it was merely a figment of his imagination. He also knew, however, that the two of them would be sharing the hallucination. Therefore, perhaps he could use this new development to crush his foe.

Ezio stood within a dense group of folk that were headed toward his foe. He had seen the yellow glow through his eagle eye and knew that his only chance was to beat the enemy assassin with stealth. As they approached, Ezio flexed his arms and tested his sword in its sheathe. One last chance.

Ra’s scanned the crowd intensely. No doubt this enemy assassin was frightened and would be hiding or regrouping after his last embarrassing defeat. He’d have to scout him out and destroy him as quickly as possible, before he had a chance to collect himself. Whirling around noticed a group that looked strange… and was getting oddly close. At the last possible second, he realized his mistake. He drew his saber and cut through the apparitions and connected with his foe’s sword. He had to act so quickly that both swords went clattering away down the open courtyard.

Ezio was shocked that he’d been discovered so quickly, but he wasted no time in compensating for it. He leaped toward his enemy and both began exchanging blows. Ra’s was pleased that it had come to this as he was unconcerned about a close physical confrontation. A blow to the chest sent Ezio sprawling and Ra’s capitalized by leaping atop him and sending the two assassins to the ground. Reaching into Ezio’s bandolier, he drew a throwing knife and pushed it toward the assassins throat. Ezio caught his wrist and pressed against him with all his might. Slowly, very slowly, the knife approached his throat. Ezio raised his other arm and clawed at al Ghul’s face, trying to buy himself a few more seconds. With a snarl, Ra’s pressed harder. Ezio’s hand slipped down his opponents face, but he managed to get it to his neck and with a flick of his wrist, sent his hidden blade into Ra’s al Ghul’s throat.

The world went white and Ezio laid his worthy adversary to the ground. “You fool,” said Ra’s, “You’ve ruined all my plans… and likely doomed my world. I was so close to convincing Batman… to gaining his aid.”

“Batman?” said Ezio, “I’m afraid I don’t know any bat people… I’m sorry, friend. Know that you fought well… and that if I ever see this man, I will let him know of your passing and that you fought bravely and ferociously. Requiescat in pace.”

With that, Ra’s disappeared and Ezio was left alone.

“Well done, master assassin!” the ethereal voice boomed,  “You truly are the master of your trade. Now rest until I call you again… you’ve certainly earned it!”

The Outcome

Victory – Ezio. While Ra’s is the greater combatant, Ezio’s eagle eye ability will always give him the advantage of surprise, while keeping himself from being caught unawares. Coupled with his unorthodox willingness to try anything in a fight that could give himself the advantage, Ezio has the advantage over Ra’s al Ghul.

Legolas silently observed. He had quickly moved to higher ground upon finding himself in the arena. His elf eyes had easily detected the strangely-garbed human, clambering over the rubble; yet he sensed that he was not evil. And so the elf waited cautiously, his steel-tipped arrow remained held loosely in the elven longbow.

Hawkeye flitted from rooftop to whatever remained of rooftops in the ruins of the abandoned city. He had also moved to higher ground in hopes of seeing his opponent and quickly taking him out, but no such luck. The archer had notched a blunted electrical arrow to his bow – he had no desire to kill this stranger, but the charge on one of these arrows was enough to take down 10 men. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, an arrow whizzed past his head. Clint instantly dropped to a crouch, bow cocked and aimed directly at the trajectory of the offending arrow. A voice called out to him.

“I could have hit you, but I wish to know who you are. ”

“I’m called Hawkeye. I’m an Avenger,” Clint called back.

“And I am Legolas, son of Thranduil, of the Woodland Realm. I have no quarrel with you, Avenger. Surrender and let’s be done with this foolishness.”

“No offense, buddy, but I have no reason to trust you,” Clint replied. As he spoke, he locked on to the elf – almost impossibly far away – and drew his bowstring taut. “Why don’t you surrender to me instead?” he loosed the arrow.

Legolas had not expected a man to be capable of such power and accuracy from such a distance, and it cost him. The electrical trick-arrow struck home squarely in his narrow elf chest, shocking him. He collapsed to the ground. Had he been a mere man, that may have been the end of it. However, elves are a sturdier stock, and by the time Hawkeye came leaping to the rooftop to retrieve his arrow, Legolas was nowhere to be found.

“Damn… ” he muttered. This would not be over quickly.

The electrical bolt had hurt, but Legolas continued to move. Although his feet normally left few traces, his body was not used to the effects of electrical current, and Hawkeye managed to pursue him. A game of cat-and-mouse developed, with Hawkeye’s trick-arrows ensnaring and slowing down the swifter and more durable elf, but Legolas tirelessly continued.

The hours grew long as the fight went on, until Clint bordered on exhaustion. He knelt momentarily in an alley, catching his breath, as he suddenly felt screaming pain pierce through each of his calves. Legolas’ arrows tore through the muscles and into the dirt of the ground below. Hawkeye cried out in pain, reaching back to draw an arrow. Another arrow pierced the hand in motion.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, Hawkeye – but you left me no choice. You must yield.” Clint heard the sound of the bowstring being pulled taut behind him. His bow slipped from his hand, but before even hitting the ground it vanished, along with the Avenger himself. All that remained were the expended elf arrows lying bloodied on the ground

Legolas whirled, prepared for anything, but suddenly the ruins around him faded to black. The familiar voice boomed from nowhere, and everywhere at once.

“Excellent job, archer of the Elves. You’ve done your race proud! But now I’m afraid I must make you wait, for an even bigger challenge lies ahead of you… “

The Outcome

Victory – Legolas. Although matched evenly in terms of archery and skill, Legolas can outpace the human Hawkeye.

Lion-O leapt through the glowing portal to follow the strange, blonde man, but when he came through the other side, the stranger was gone without a trace… along with Cheetara. What’s more, this land was unfamiliar… Lion-O was no longer in Third Earth. The sky was a strange, pinkish hue, and even the pull of gravity felt different.

It had been but a moment ago that he had been hunting down the blonde brute. He had appeared without warning, capturing the ThunderCats in bizarre traps, one by one in the Cat’s Lair, before picking up Cheetara and fleeing towards the Forest of Silence.

Lion-O noticed a castle in the distance. He began running towards it, clutching the sword of omens in his fist. “If only I had been there…” he thought to himself. Lion-O had been out on a walk in the forest when the attack occurred. If he had not been returning to the Lair as He-Man left, he may not have even seen the direction he fled. He may not have heard Cheetara’s plea for help.

He-Man had been out on a walk as well, this day, when something caught his keen eye. A strange, feline-looking man was charging toward Castle Greyskull, sword in hand. He-Man urgently charged out to intercept him.

Illustration by MiKO

As He-Man approached him, he called out. “Ho there, Cat Man. I cannot allow you to approach Castle Grayskull so armed. Are you friend or foe? You look like you could be a spawn of Beastman..”

To Lion-O’s ears, the words sounded senseless and threatening. “You may have gotten the drop on the other ThunderCats, but not I! If I find that you have harmed Cheetara, I will destroy you. HOOOOOO!” as he cried out, the Sword of Omens extended to its full length. Lion-O swung the sword, sending out blasts of energy towards his opponent, and He-Man barely had time to draw forth his Power Sword to deflect the volley. He-Man charged forth, and the duel began. The two mighty swords rang as they clashed together, time and time again.

Such a display of swordsmanship is seldom seen – where He-Man overpowered with brute strength, Lion-O dodged and outmaneuvered. As easily as the Sword of Omens blasted energy at He-Man, the Power Sword just as easily dispelled it. For hours they fought, but He-Man is tireless, and invulnerable. Each swing of his sword had the power to shatter stone, and eventually he wore down his opponent. As Lion-O collapsed, He-Man sheathed his sword, and held out his hand.

“You fought nobly, and well. I seek no enmity from you.”

Lion-O looked up at He-Man in confusion. “Who is this man, who would kidnap a ThunderCat, and then holds out his hand in peace? Something is amiss… ” he thought to himself. He held up the sword of omens, reverted to its normal length, to his eyes and spoke the phrase “Sword of Omens, give me Sight Beyond Sight!”. As he looked up at He-Man, he saw clearly the hex placed upon him by Mumm-Ra. Looking further, he saw a strange man with a yellow skull face, holding Cheetara.

“I have been a fool,” Lion-O said, and He-Man looked in surprise, suddenly understanding. The Eye of Thundera had removed the hex. “We have been tricked into fighting one another by a creature known as Mumm-Ra. I see another at his side, a man with a yellow skull for a face.”

“Skeletor.” He-Man replied. He pulled Lion-O to his feet. “I know not this Mumm-Ra, but where Skeletor is, trouble is sure to follow. Let us fight them together, friend!”

The Outcome

Victory – He-Man. These two are matched in skill, and their swords counter-balance each other. However, He-Man is the most powerful man in the universe, and eventually he will over-power Lion-O.

Bonus Round – Who has the more flambouyant outfit?

He-Man’s blonde bob, combined with furry boots and panties and a belted chest-piece, vs Lion-O’s red, flowing mane combined with blue singlet with bared midriff and booties.

I’m gonna have to give this to Lion-O. But both are trumped by Prince Adam’s outfit.

Dr. Manhattan stood at his laboratory computer. He also stood across the laboratory pondering the results from the latest experiment. He was trying to figure out what exactly the latest test results could mean. The feeling was very similar to when Veidt used the tachyons to cloud his vision of the future, but at the same time… different. This current set of experiments, once concluded, should put his mind at ease, but thus far the results were baffling. Omnipotence was not all it was cracked up to be.

Suddenly Manhattan sensed he was not alone. He turned and found a thin, pale man cloaked in a dark robe standing in the doorway and watching him. “I was wondering when you’d finally arrive,” said Manhattan, “After I rebuffed the last, I was sure I’d meet another of you. Fascinating. The forces of the universe… Or at least , the forces of the LIVING in the universe. Your female friend was Death, I presume, considering what she wanted. And you… who might you be?”

“I am Dream, of the Endless,” spoke Morpheus quietly, ” And your time has come. My sister will return shortly and you will go with her.”

“Dream! Interesting. Not exactly a force I would assume was necessary for life, but I’m sure you would disagree with me. At any rate, I won’t be going with your sister. You both are forces that… transcend the physical. I am the physical. I control every atom in creation. I could change the entire Universe to lead if I so chose. We’re not so different, you and I.”

“You are living. Therefore, you are in our jurisdiction. And you will be dying tomorrow.”

Manhattan turned, all his forms but one disappearing. “I will not.” he said, and with a thought, Dream was dissolved into a pile of sand. He turned back to his work.

Moments later, Manhattan felt a tickle in his nose. With a thought, he dismissed the mote of sand that was causing it. He turned again and saw exactly what he expected. Morpheus stood once more in the doorway. With a scowl, Manhattan spoke, “I told you. I’m every bit as powerful and omnipotent as you. I won’t be dying.”

Morpheus only stood quietly. With a wave his hand, a new form appeared. Janey Slater. “I… Janey?” Manhattan stuttered.

“Jon… it’s time, honey. You’ve got to let go and accept that you’re human… like you were. Please Jon… come with me. We can be together again…”

Manhattan moved towards Janey slowly… how tempting it was to leave all of this behind. Ignorance truly was bliss. Perhaps it would be easier to just die. Whatever might await beyond. Manhattan raised a blue hand to Janey’s cheek… and she collapsed into dust. Manhattan closed his eyes and sighed. This was going to be difficult. Another thought and Morpheus was once again a pile of sand. It was time to leave.

The Martian landscape spread out before him. Maybe he could hide out for a little while before Morpheus found him again. Unfortunately this wasn’t the case, as Morpheus reappeared within seconds. “I will be rid of you!” screamed Manhattan.

This time he encased Dream in a cube of lead. That should stop him for a little while. No sooner had Manhattan had that thought than the lead began to ripple and boil. It slipped away from Morpheus’ body slowly, revealing The Endless beneath, unscathed. With a cry of rage, Manhattan blasted him away again and transported himself to another place, another time.

This went on for what seemed like eons, the two titans battling through the time stream. Doctor Manhattan trying some new trick to destroy Dream; turning his body to gold, the air around him to acid. Even going back to the beginning to try and find him at his birth. All to no avail. It seemed that this would go on for eternity. Unless…

With a final epiphany Manhattan realized what he had to do. It was drastic, to be sure… but it was the only way. And in time, all things would flourish again.

“I can’t defeat you, dream lord,” admitted Manhattan, “You have all the power of this universe at your hands. You can’t destroy me, but neither can I destroy you.”

“Go with my sister, then. Accept Death as the inevitability that it is.”

“I won’t… I may not be able to stop you, but I can still defeat you,” said Manhattan. He closed his eyes and began to focus. He began to feel the earth beneath him shift and draw up inside him. The air around him did the same. Soon the entire planet they sat upon was compressed into Manhattan’s body. Morpheus floated in front of Manhattan momentarily and smiled, before disappearing. Manhattan was unconcerned. The universe was a large place, but the Endless couldn’t live outside of creation. This was the only way.

More and more began to be drawn to Manhattan, faster and faster. Planets, entire stars at first and then even more. Solar systems, galaxies, nebulae. Black holes, quasars, pulsars. Planets with life were drawn in just like those barren and lifeless. It hurt Manhattan, but it was all for the best. To start again would be glorious. A world without the Endless… where the living were their own masters. A world without Death or Dream, or whoever else there may be. A world without Jon Osterman.

Soon there was nothing left. All of creation was contained within Manhattan. He began to compress himself, drawing it all into a tiny, super dense, super energetic point. Manhattan smiled and finally felt whole and complete. He was the Alpha and Omega. With this final, glorious revelation, he let go and gave birth to the Universe.

Morpheus walked over to Dr. Manhattan’s body in his laboratory. The power of the livings minds never ceased to amaze him. He truly believed all that had happened in his dream and that he had recreated the Universe and the power of that belief had wholly incapacitated him. Tomorrow, Death would come by to take him away, so he could truly be at peace and perhaps even see Janey again. Morpheus felt an odd bit of melancholy this time, though. Jon Osterman was a remarkable being and he felt sad that he had to do this him. But as all things dream, so must all things die. Morpheus sat down beside the glowing, blue body and waited. He would keep vigil over the greatest and wisest human he had so far met until his sister came to take him over. He owed him at least that much.

Victory – Morpheus

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