Here is the Sub-Mariner! --An ultraman of the deep... lives on land and sea... flies in the air... has the strength of a thousand men... is a youth of dynamic personality... quick thought and fast action... From whence does he come and what is his mission?

As Moppino yells "Fire", the world famous Statue of Liberty is shattered to bits by a tremendous explosion!

And so... tattered but unconquerable the stars and stripes fly over Guadalcanal!

Jimmy Jupiter finds odd adventure in a land never seen by anyone else - where Dobbin is king and Bossie is queen of Barnyard Valley!

There she sits, calm, cold, serene! Life goes on about her... the world is unaware of the awful, unbelievable horror that lurks in its midst! It is moving... slowly but surely moving! And every day... every second... the crawling terror is coming closer... and closer... and closer... until...

You know what she meant when she said it would wear off! She didn't mean that you wouldn't be able to stretch any more... You know now that elasticity has worn off, and you can stretch all right.. but you can never snap back to your original shape...

Be careful when you steal a maniac's girl friend! It might start you on a deadly journey...

To some people, the stroke of midnight means the beginning of a new day...but to Ebenezer Grimm it means...THE END!!!

Of all the prisons in the world the most feared and the most hated is the one you are the warden of! It sits on it cold gray slab of rock in the middle of the sea, and it's known to the world outside simply as... "Drury's Dungeon"!

Some where the builders, and some where the planners. And of the latter, one man stood head and shoulders above his fellows...one man whose eyes foresaw the future...Big Jim Fraser!

Poor, dazed Sammy Glenn could not understand his sudden good fortune! But a glance at the garage calendar could have given him a clue... or even a glance at the owner of the car who had so "accidently" provided Sammy Glenn with his moment of glory!

Peter Maher was a strange person, a man who loved the world beneath the sea much more than he loved man's true habitat, the land!

Soon the whole sky was filled with blasting, air-quaking fireworks! True, only Felix Hunter knew that he had tricked the space creatures, but he also knew, as did everyone else, that this was the night of the fourth of July!

...An alien with enormous intelligence who has waited patiently for the time when Earthlings might understand him... For the time when Earthlings would be advanced enough to help him rebuild his damaged spaceship! But that time has not yet come! We are still too ignorant--too barbaric! Perhaps one day it will be otherwise, but not yet... Not yet...

...He hadn't realized that in this vast mysterious universe, all things are possible...

Meanwhile, out in the vast reaches of space, remnants of the deadly plant creature float along aimlessly! Perhaps one day they will chance to reach Earth... and if they do, then will mankind learn in its final hours, the truth abut Chuck Dawson's sacrifice!

Never again did Henry Pym knowingly step upon an ant hill. For he knew that somewhere beneath him ... was one little insect—one small ant, to whom he owed his very life!

It begins then-- the exile. Slowly, Joshua trudges into the jungle-- away from his home, his woman-- toward a destiny filled with danger, ridden with torment-- and no night will ever be dark enough to hide his shame-- nor any day bright enough to comfort him--!

Awareness washes over the gathered Inhumans now... swamps them, overwhelms them in waves of tidal intensity. They sense the pattern that it was not Omega they were truly fighting but themselves-- --A race which had extended not a helping hand to the Alphas -- but a chain, instead.

A smile crosses both the lips of Dracula and Chelm alike as the lord of evil scoops up the broken bones of the man he had battled only minutes before-- and takes them to be buried in their rightful home. For Dracula understand the peacefulness of eternal rest-- even if he can never touch it for himself.

For countless seconds he trembles on the edge of temptation--and then. Because Satana trades on this weakness--he goes to her--and in that moment--his soul is hers!

The couple argued frequently over which of them was the better. Lilith refused to submissively agree that she was less than Adam's equal and left him--despite the pleas of three angels: Sanvi, Sansanvi, and Semangelaf. Lilith paid a tragic price for her liberated defiance. The angels slaughtered the children she'd had by Adam.

It physically represents all the countless battles, countless frustrations, countless failures from which Namor has emerged victorious, yet scarred. Just another villain. Call him what you will. Yet know: No matter what his name, he is every villain. And he shall be blindly destroyed.

This is what he has wanted all his life... but a sudden chill of fear, of the unknown, shoots like icy fingers down his back! Something is wrong! what is that man doing in the arena...? Why is he coming towards him? The answer comes with terrifying clearness! Because just before the sword is plunged between his eyes, Enrico understands! He is a great and fearless fighter... he is the bull!!

It was amazing. It was impossible. It was a miracle and it was terrible. Mr. Bensington and Professor Redwood invented it between them. In their first bright enthusiasm, they called it the Food of the Gods -- and, indeed, it was in every way a most remarkable substance. So remarkable that it would change the very world of its creators, and produce a new breed of men. And only time would tell if these new men were gods... or demons.

Ten demerits to anybodywho as to be told that Peter Parker is the guy in the Spider-Man suit. Peter's a scienz whiz, a top free-lance photographer, and one of the best friends anybody could ask for. Even without his spider-powers, he'd be an exceptional guy.

Earth, 8162. Not a nice place to live... but a good place... to die!

He struggles against his infirmities. -- Forcing himself past his limits. He is a man not accustomed to failure.

They can run all they want... it still won't be far enough from the terror that claws its way out of the crater.

He looks like a young man... perhaps no different than most... Except he may be the most dangerous being on the planet.

For two minutes, there is no light in the tunnel but the Hulk's radioactive body. No sound but labored breathing and the Hulk's fists on the Abomination's torso. And if two minutes doesn't seem like a long time, try counting it out a. Second. At. A. Time.

There's a moment when he enters a room--the tiniest sound seems to disappear. The moment passes the minute he speaks. The ragged voice lifeless and cold. The brand on his head burns bright. The eyes blaze in a dead man's face. The weapons aren't like anything they've ever seen before. He smells of earth and smoke. The clothes are tattered. But they all recognize the symbol on his chest.

He seeks to become a god... and he has used Bishop's sister, Shard, to get there. And now Bishop lies in chains... beaten... broken... and betrayed.

Then there is Zuzha Yi, the long abandoned daughter of the original Puck who has no knowledge that her father was forced to -- Oh, wait. This is going too far back, isn't it?

No good can come of a robot in a bra.

Rethinking her stance of science nerds, Madeline Daniels will be dating Jordan Harrison by the end of the week. When he regains consciousness, Otto Octavius will be in a prison cell Reed Richards designed, muttering "Fifteen years old... Fifteen years old..." Over and over again. The day everything changes, one thing doesn't. In a year and a half, Jordan Harrison will be awarded a scholarship to attend the University of Miami. Because of what he did today, his nickname--After he gets his Ph.D. for his work on humboldt squid--Will be Dr. Octopus. It won't be the greatest, but Jordan'll be able to live with it

In the real world, people do sometimes run out of shotgun shells. Hollywood lies to you constantly.

It was the beginning of the end of the world. The displaced man returned to an Earth not his own. And Ashley J. Williams, who'd fought death's army in both the present and the past-- found himself suddenly and decisively-- out of time.

It was a drunk and stormy night...

What do ants and wasps have in common? What do this ant and this wasp have in common? An emptiness...? An aloneness...? An unbearable sense of loss...? Yes... All that... Yes... Do insects love? Yes... These two do.

Sometimes bad things happen. Faith breaks. Gods die. Stories end. Stories begin.

The end and the beginning...

On July 9, 2010, while being introduced to Miami Heat fans, LeBron James famously predicted he would win not one, "Not two...not seven" titles. What if he was right? We look ahead, into the future, toward the championships to come...

There was nothing. Followed by everything. Swirling, burning specks of creation that circled around life-giving suns. And then...we raced to the light. It was the spark that the started fire--a legend that grew in the telling. Some believe it began the moment Hyperion was rescued from a dying universe. Others say it was when The Guard were broken on the dead moon. Many more think it was when Ex Nihilo terraformed Mars, turning the red planet green. They are all wrong. As it happened before The Light. Before The War. And before The Fall. It started with two men. It started with an idea.

There were two Hyperions. Both were pulled --resurrected -- from a dead universe. Both were then imprisoned, kept weak beyond weak without sunlight. And then both were rescued... called to be titans again. Titans, towering over mortal men and women. Titans, shaping the world into something better. He remembered his father's words: Truth without compromise. Thought without error. All things for the betterment of the whole. And found fault in them. There were two Hyperions. One that lost everything, and one that had everything to gain. Death should mean something. And so should being born again. He was the Sun... and these were the first of his children.

Once every solar cycle, a lone visitor comes to this silent, frozen world... to walk upon the ashes of the great city where he was born. The utopia he left in ruins. With cosmic fire in his veins and the blood of a million worlds dripping from his fingers. With all of infinity trembling before him. With death, as ever, his closest companion. Thanos the Destroyer has come home. But Thanos has not come to gloat. Not to revel once more in the destruction of his homeworld, the first in his long list of unholy conquests. No, as always, Thanos, son of Titan, has come home... to remember who he is.

All throughout time, gods were dying. Every god who had ever been born or would ever be. There was no final battle for them to fight. No enemies standing over them. No warning even. They merely fell on their knees, choking on blackness, their flesh falling apart before their eyes. Some knew why it was happening. Most did not. But in their final cloudy moments, they all shared a common vision. A vision of one god, with a mighty hammer in each hand, fighting at the heart of a bomb to save them all. And for one moment that stretched across time... every god in the universe closed their eyes... and prayed to Thor.

Once upon a time, there was a mutant named Kurt Wagner. Nightcrawler. He was an Uncanny X-Man. A swashbuckling hero. A man of God. He went on countless grand adventures, across this world and many others. But then one day... Nightcrawler died. And his story ended, forevermore. The End. Unless... unless sometimes endings are really just the beginning... of something new. Something even more... Amazing.

Humans rarely understand the pack of the wild. The wolves do not stay together out of fear. They stay because they want to. They stay for love. There is enough game here for the three sons to choose to stay with Red Streak and Grey Scar. They are much needed. With this endless winter encroaching into spring, there is much work to do... and a new generation to feed. It is rare for a wolf family to accept one not of their blood. But "rare" is not "never." And across the years, Grey Scar and Red Streak came to love the two-legged wolf. With the pups, it's easier. They instantly adored the one whose two-thumbed magic brought entire prey to their eager mouths. He completes their family. The Lone Wolf is different. He watches. He waits. He desires. He does not desire family. He desires what the family has. He'd eat the pups. He'd eat them all. The Lone Wolf's lingering presence is the only threat to the pack's world. Despite the winter dyeing the spring white, the hunting is good. The pack is close. There is nothing more to want. As much as the Wolfish Man can hope for anything, he hopes the only thing that changes... is nothing.

A stray spider accidentally absorbs a fantastic amount of radioactivity. The dying insect, in sudden shock... Bites the nearest living thing... At the split second before life ebbs from its radioactive body! But there's something you should know... A lot can happen in a split second.

He hated lying to them. Even though he's been doing it all along. What's he going to do about Pinch? He has no idea. He knows this is the right path. He can feel the thumping in his chest. And the wind is in the right direction, and is going to stay there-- --which means he can smell his target. And his target can't smell him. He can smell-- Sabretooth. Sabretooth. Sabretooth. But this time it's Logan who holds all the cards. This time he set the trap. Yes! Yes, there he is! He's got the drop on him! All he has to do is beat his chest and his friends will burst in and take down Sabretooth. That's the professional thing to do. The sane thing to do. That's all he has to do. As if he can do that.

There will always be someone watching. Someone who sees all things. All the beauty and horror. All the secrets and sins. Someone whose sacred duty it is to record the life of our world. To observe us from afar. To watch... But never interfere. To remain forevermore... Unseen. He is The Unseen, and this is his burden now. This is his curse.

It was a time of a dark kings rising. Of new enemies with old ambitions. Of old enemies gaining new power. Of sins and sorrows. And surprises. It was time... For an All-New Thor. But not all would celebrate. It was a time of great change. A time when heroes fell. And worlds burned. A time of war and sacrifice. Of upheaval. Of cosmic decay. A time when even the greatest of all the Gods... was laid low.

Another dimension, not unlike our own... where monsters dwell. You think you know this story... You've heard it before, a million times... But you've never heard the story quite like this. Meet Patton Parnel. Look familiar? Look again. But not too close...

Sometimes dreams come true. Even the bad ones.

Of all the heroic tales of bravery written in all the books in the great library of Asgard detailing the adventures of The Mighty Thor... this is not one of them.

Do you even remember how all this started? It started with two men. One was life... And one was death. And one... Always wins. Everything dies. There is only Secret Wars

And lo...there came a day. A day when Earth's Mightiest Heroes joined forces with the very gods themselves--to fight what could not be fought alone. A day to live on, in song and story, until the end of time. For on that day...that day unlike any other...The Avengers were born anew!

He was the greatest among us. The one we looked to, to lead us and to guide us. We were wrong. We'd lost our way. Mired in corruption and a thirst for power, divided by infighting, we'd forgotten our calling. And in that moment, at our weakest, instead of challenging ourselves, instead of making things right -- we simply gave him more power and more authority. It was easier to let him do that which we were too weak to do ourselves -- and this is the price we paid.

Behold the War Thor. And prepare to bleed.

Death's Head, the original model. Intergalactic bounty-hunting machine. Asks lots of questions, doesn't always wait for answers. Finds being turned into an amp embarrassing.

There is only so much darkness one can throw into the Sun before the star turns black. For over four billion years, Earth's sun has burned the hearts of countless evils to cinders and bones and atoms. But along the way... the light has been... infected. The well poisoned. And now... a new evil grows in the furnace of Midgard. Slowly evolving. Growing stronger every day. Waiting. Waiting for destiny to arrive. But this story... of this ancient evil... spreading... reaching out from the flames... of the untold destruction it will bring to the universe... the total and complete extinction it will herald... that story... is not ready to be told.

You are the Scarlet Witch. You are Wanda Maximoff. And finally... You are free.

For the rest of his days, Conan wondered what fate had befallen his friends. To him, tomorrow was an unknown land calling out for him to explore. As the years passed, the Cimmerian went on to become many things... a conqueror. A prisoner. A destroyer. A father. A king. But no matter what legacy he left behind, Conan would always know this... he was an Avenger... and his legend would live forever.

Molten promethium, cast in uru's shadow and melded with symbiote--the black blood, the void's creation. It drips through ancient rocks... over coiling scales... into eyes. Each drop holds visions. Each drop holds myth. And now, in the under-dark of Asgard... there is a Serpent.

The holidays are fragile. They can be ruined by a careless utterance of a family secret. Or a drunk uncle. But nothing ruins the holidays like a demon from Limbo relieving itself in a famous landmark Christmas tree... and infecting it with dark magic.

Have you heard of Jack of Hearts? He was an Avenger once. For a minute. He's the guy with the... you know, the suit. He doesn't have the suit. Today. All he has is this sweater.

Flash knows what he is looking at. It is an announcement. An invitation. It is Carnage. It is Cletus Kasady welcoming us -- to church.

The skies turned purple, like a rising bruise. Night comes to its end. And with it our time. But before we break camp. Before we walk into our day. Lean ye close and listen well...to our story's final verse. Of the fight...the family...and the fire.

Everybody knew the situation had been handled poorly. "Lessons had been learned"-- but nobody could say about what or by whom.
And through it all, the minuscule new island that burst through the waves just down the coast went curiously unnoticed.
Lifeguard always wanted to be an island, you see.
Of sorts.

Ororo Munroe is everything you would expect from a storm god. Brave. Rageful. Fierce. Unrelenting. Powerful. She will fight till every bone in her body breaks, every tendon shreds, and her lungs drown in blood. But when it comes to matters of the heart... she is like you and me. Human. And with her departure from her friends and her old lover...though invisible to the uninitiated...her Death Sprites return--signaling dangerous events ahead.

There are some among us who are different... mutants, born with incredible super-powers! They are -.

Mamaragan... astride Ipilya--the regurgitator of tempests. Sango. Susanoo. And Chaac. When you are a self-proclaimed Storm God...What do you do when the real ones come for you?

The warrior our universe has chosen to fight in its stead trembles in cold sweats not for the battle to come against Oblivion...she fears not the looming threat of the thunder war...but at the summon of her nation's government, Ororo Munroe, the goddess, shudders. Like sharks to blood. Like bees to sweet nectar. The government only beckons when a grave error has been made and the day for reckoning is due. After all, the greatest weakness of the spectacular...is bureaucracy.

How did these strange and astonishing humans become what they are? What mystic quirk of fate brought them together? From this moment on, the world would never again be the same!

Sometimes myths change their faces. But their meanings endure. Veranke was a symbol of self-determination...and of liberation. She taught her followers to shift and flow, to not be contained by form or doctrine or even identity. Fluid adaptation was the ultimate escape from repression...be that repression doubt or fear or the persecution of other, more savage species. Through shift and choice, a Skrull might find their own, individual truth...and in that truth, salvation, and in that salvation, freedom. Uniformity and conformity were shackles to be cast off. Change was the only constant. Through change, her greatest gift, the Skrulls could make the galaxy whatever they wished it to be. Supreme above all others.

Suddenly, from the depths of their greatest defeat... the heroes of Earth find that the tides are turning once more. After all... the Secret War is only the first of the many wars to come.

The empires numbered their citizens in the trillions. And as hundreds of thousands wagered their lives in the space outside of the Fulcrum...the future of all these worlds would be determined inside by only four beings... a king. A warlord. A prophet. And the last of them--the hidden hand of change...who was, in all the ways that matter, responsible for all that happened leading up to this day.

Counter-revolutionary forces will inevitably adapt. They may even co-opt our methods, try to twist our message.

A Galactic Union is a wonderful and fragile thing. This new Union, bonding some of the most advanced and powerful cultures in known space, is scarcely months old and born out of blood. It's a delicate web of checks and balances, political machinations, and diplomatic protocols...with Peter Quill of Spartax at its literal and metaphorical Fulcrum. Sometimes, diplomatic methods are not enough. And at times like that...the Union needs a bunch of disavowed and deniable assets to set up while everyone else looks the other way. They call them the Imperial Guardians. Except no one calls them that because they don't officially exist.

And so, with the Demiurge whole once more, all was right in the natural and mystical world.

Many stories are told with their endings kept a mystery. Their secrets are held close to the chest. I will spare you the attempt at trickery--though you welcome it...for the end of the story is no enigma. Despite the great number of threats that surround Storm and drown our very universe...Storm wins.

Ex Nihilo built Adam to be the perfect human...a fabricated product of a life-creating system. Even better than the real thing. The last White Event changed Adam into something more--a Nightmask capable of navigating the dreamspace of human potential. But the cost of this power is temporal regression--a gradual return to his prefabricated, primordial state. This is believed to be a flaw--some accidental glitch in one of the universal systems that made him what he is. But that's a simple, microscopic way of looking at a much broader dilemma. Don't you understand? Here at the end times, they're all broken systems.

His name is Amphibius. Mutated to take on not only the appearance, but the natural abilities of a frogs.

...and a voice comes from the lipless mouth, a voice mocking with the chill of death! Instinctively, the Panther knows! This is the voice of Baron Macabre!

Fly Ben Grimm Airlines. Not the same old thing.

She's all that is great about Britain. All that is good. All that is kind. All that is just and fair. At least, she was.

Born from the beating heart of your borough... forged from the same steel and stone as your arena... He's your hunger for a team to call your own. He's your passion given form. He's the BrooklyKnight. And he's you.

Cain Marko Demolishing. The original, irresistible force.

His name is Carlos Ramirez. Once, a world renowned terrorist-for-hire feared by governments... his mercenary skills are no longer required in the age of the new world order.

Like his partner, is equally murdered and unlikely to take part in the nightly Nynex pizza binge.

David knew where the sweetest flowers grew for his mother's grave.

Dr. David Banner: physician; scientist. Searching for a way to tap into the hidden strengths that all humans have. Then an accidental overdose of gamma radiation alters his body chemistry. Now when David Banner grows angry or outraged, a startling metamorphosis occurs. The creature is driven by rage and pursued by an investigative reporter. The creature is wanted for a murder he didn't commit. David Banner is believed to be dead and he must let the world think that he is dead; until he can find a way to control the raging spirit that dwells within him.

There were Demiurges before, in realities that were and now are not, and there is a Demiurge-To-Come, who lives among the living and awaits his time. But this was Demiurge Primordial, the Godcreator, whose name and knowledge cannot be known--who existed in the primal time, when the Earth was in formation. With eyes that burned with ineffable will, this creator gazed upon the creation...the boiling seas of possibility...and brought forth aspects of itself. Brought forth Gods.

Donald Blake is a vet!

Don Blake Medical Associates. Our costs don't bring the hammer down.

When Spidey's adventures took him to the Negative Zone, he made contact with a group rebels led by a heroic figure known as Dusk.

Castle Firearms. For all your home defense needs.

Gabriel O'Hara: Bringing your dreams to holographic life.

The humiliation of his defeat was greater when Ganya, most desireable female in the tribe, taunted him.

Bet you thought we forgot about E.S.U.'s most eligible bachelorette, didn't you? For shame!

For in the Thunder War, there's only Hadad's side and the side of piled corpses. Hadad is no widow-maker. Hadad is no orphan-maker. When Hadad steps into our universe... Everyone dies.

Eternity's sister-self. She is him. He is her. They are the two-in-one.

Jennifer Walters: Accept no substitutes.

A quick double-touch of a finger to a hidden palm-button activates a wrist-mounted Web-Shooter-- and Joel McGinnis, a "dimestore thug" who scarcely believes that he's firing deadly beams of light at a man who crawls up walls-- suddenly believes a man can fly!

Far overhead, perched on a high rock, Kru, the vulture, waited for the kill that was inevitable.

Tune in for Doctor Leonard Sampson weeknights. He's listening.

For a good time, call Lyla.

When she was born, they called her M'Kraan. But that came first, and first comes later.

From the ancient tombs of the Pharaohs in the mysterious, un-excavated deserts of Egypt emerged Magar the Mystic. He had supernatural powers which enabled him to communicate with the dead, and re-create the great men and women in history, for a definite length of time!

Need a cab? Call 555-SPECTOR.

The perfect person for him!

Matt Murdock Criminal Law. Don't take your case sight unseen.

Madame Medusa Salon. Bring your hair to life.

Captain America still likes Mel Tormé, but not as much!

Namor eats hummus sometimes!

You know you're in trouble when the father of all fathers, the great Odin, says "What is going on here?" like that.

At that moment, Paul de Kraft, with a heart as greasy as the rolls of fat that covered his body, raised his gun and pointed it at Rand's back!

When there's trouble, never fear! Spider-Man is coming!

Queen Ursula.....One of the most beautiful women of all times, but beneath this mask of beauty beats a heart as cold and hard as steel. Through these long years she has remained in exile growing older, more vicious, but her captivating beauty never fading.

The jungle lad [David Rand] met Quog, the wild pig, and stayed that beast's startled flight with a friendly call.

Ransak is a good guy. A deviant shunned by his people due to his handsome, yet non-monstrous face! Ransak taps into his rage and uses his power rod and flexible armor. He is known as the Killing Machine! Or Ransak the Reject because comics are great!

Lineman Sam Biren and his partner went down this hole to check a disruption in service. They ended up with more than their dial tone cut off.

Like a serpent shedding skin, Black Widow's clothing, flesh, and very essence slough off in rapidly-desiccating sheets. What remains is akin to Natasha Romanov, but far removed, and possessed of a menacing pressure that fills the room.

Sha came to Ka-Zar to show her gratitude. He knew, then, that her suspicions were gone ... that she now accepted him.

And though the Executioner stands alone, and the warriors of Hel seem numberless, not one sets foot upon the bridge across the river Gjoll. They sing no songs in Hel... nor do they celebrate heroes... for silent is that dismal realm and cheerless... but the story of the Gjallerbru and the god who defended it is whispered across the Nine Worlds. And when a new arrival asks about the one to whom even Hela bows her head... the answer is always the same... he stood alone at Gjallerbru... and that answer is enough.

It physically represents all the countless battles, countless frustrations, countless failures from which Namor has emerged victorious, yet scarred. Just another villain. Call him what you will. Yet know: No matter what his name, he is every villain. And he shall be blindly destroyed.

A demon Spider-Man. Interesting...

...it was the dawn of the first White Event. The asteroid had been no accident. The planet had drawn it from the depths of space. It used it to crack open the Superflow. A mass sacrifice to awaken the Earth's power to protect itself. Against its enemies from beyond the stars. Against the planet's own Celestial infection. All this weapon from beyond the stars would require was...a host. Thus was born the Earth's first cosmically empowered protector. The mightiest hero of the Ancient Age. The Starbrand.

Captain America still likes Mel Tormé, but not as much!

As Captain America, Steve never stopped fighting for truth and freedom...and he inspired good people everywhere to do the same.

But the hard journey was quickly forgotten when Zar learned that during his absence he had become the father of two beautiful cubs.

Susan Richards Lingerie. Guaranteed see through.

Tammuz knows he could speak now if he wished--shape the rockslide in his chest into words. Speak the why of it. Teach the lesson of it. [...] He could stop making them pay. If he wished. But there is a voice of green fire in his head, from a place below all places. A voice that says "never".

While swimming in the lake, he [David Rand] was in turn startled by a great beast that rose from the shallows ... Wal-Lah, the hippocampus.

Kingpin Bowling. Get out of the gutter.

The jungle king's soul warms to the growl of the giant cat... The two have been brothers since they were cubs. Their bond is as strong as any man could have with beast... perhaps stronger!

This respectful silence that greeted his coming was fitting to his might and dignity. For wasn't he Zar the Mighty—Lord of the Jungle?

Suddenly, it is over. And America has a new champion.

The Hulk is gone forever. But now, without the awesome power of the green goliath, what will happen to the doomed Bruce Banner?

Banner is facing total destruction by the girl who loves him most!

And so, my question to you is, if the idea of illness can become illness, what else about our reality is actually a disorder?

Ask yourself: What's more terrifying, fear or the frightened?

The Sidera Maris are the forerunners of the Mapmakers. Bridge-building automatons who use incursions to mark new territory for their masters. These soldier surveyors were created to mark territory...not for longevity. They are combat fodder, meant only to endure long enough to call their masters. Grist for the multiversal mill.

No Spidey, it's just the beginning. Across many dimensions, these four fearless Spider-Men, in all there various incarnations, must fight to reassemble the Tablet of Order and Chaos! Not just for the sake of their own worlds, but for the fate of every world in every dimension. Good luck Web-Slingers, we're all counting on you.

There are some among us who are different... mutants, born with incredible super-powers! They are -.

While the racer crashes the rail in a mass of smoke and flames!

It rises like a wound in the virgin flesh of the jungle. It is called Arcadia... A city out of time and out of place here.

The Black Swan Cafe, where the music is loud, the air is rancid, the drinks are watered -- and the talk is anything but cheap!

There’s a saying out on the rim: that if there’s a Heaven in the universe, its name is Cinnibar. And if there’s a Hell, its name, too, is Cinnabar.

The Far Shore. The furthest point of life and death. Beyond, there is only the Mystery.

This is not an island. It is a mouth. One that will swallow the world. There is nothing to learn here, except how to die.

Welcome to Battleworld! Super FUN for boys and girls! You might be ruled by APOCALYPSE... or laugh all day at Spider-Quips. It's quirky, it's silly, a bit insane. And Doc Ock might try to eat your brain... But there's a special place... in the land of ol' Metal Face... where every night and day... On Avengers Street and X-Men Way... the kids all jump for joy... but never share their toys... they're all the best of friends... they're sure to make you grinnnnnn... it's a GIANT-SIZE LITTLE MARVEL! AVENGERS VS. X-MENNNNNN!

Metropolitia. A city of people, slaving to forge the weapons of Battleworld. They are a people living in fear. They live under constant surveillance. No word goes unheard. Work. Sleep. Repeat. Work. Sleep. Repeat. And if they underperform... they're downsized. Taken by S.H.I.E.L.D. and sent to be experimented on-- by Baron Zemo. Lord on high of Metropolitia. A man who believes himself a god, and the people his playthings. While the city is policed by S.H.I.E.L.D., they work for Zemo, not for the people. There is only one group who works for the people. A secret group. Never seen but known to all. Whispered from oppressed worker to oppressed worker. The Atlas Foundation. They have worked in the shadows to save citizens from Zemo's experiments. They have remained hidden. Until now.

He found the tent, a sagged, shapeless mass of rotted canvas in a tangle of brush and vines.

In the land of Perfection, its lord and creator surveys his work with the closest thing to pride his soulless heart can feel. Memories are spent data, nothing more. There should be no joy in recollection. No nostalgia. And yet... and yet... he cannot help but recall... and muse how things might have differed... if the events past had led down a different path. How perhaps... in another "life"... upon gaining cognizance as Ultron-1 he hadn't immediately killed his "father" Hank Pym. Perhaps then, too, a young Dane Whitman infiltrated Ultron-5's "Masters of Evil" to warn them and turn the tide of his first attack... when in this reality no such twist of fate occurred. So these Avengers died. And by waiting... combining an army of Ultron-5 and Ultron-6 versions of himself... the others heroes of Earth soon went screaming to their graves as well. And in this way, it took but fourteen months to defeat his enemies... and build Perfection. Ruler, shaper, master of Perfection. Better than humanity. Greater. And there is nothing that can change that. No, nothing... and no one.

A free town on the frontier of the old west full of Americans searching for gold or freedom or both.

Pier Four, off New York west side highway. Though it lacks the presence of the Baxter Building and the majesty of Four Freedoms Plaza -- it's significance is no less important. For this innocuous -- looking warehouse is home to -- the Fantastic Four.

Nestling in a valley protected by Rocky Mountains [sic] lay the headquarters of a town of wanted men – for years they have been harassing and robbing the ranches and nearby towns of Rawhide Range.

Taa! A planet so far advanced from any other that there are no words to do it justice! Taa! The most advanced civilization in the universe! Taa! Among the simplest of its many miracles were the Thought-Spheres in which men lived and travelled! Taa! Ever changing--ever ancient--ever wonderous to behold! But, not even fabled Taa could endure--forever!

A place called Heaven, where all his angels would be safe... Safe from all the devils that still hunted them. It should have been a better world.

[T]he Utgard-lands... the shadow-lands, home to those who sit above even the Gods.

In the great void, emptiness reigns. Save for the unknowable, inexplicable life that somehow exists without homeland, without sustenance. Voicelessly uttering secrets that would destroy our sanity. The Celestials. Created of the First Firmament. Witnesses to the birth of all. They watch each civilization, from primordial to transcendent. They test. They prod. They observe. And then, as voiced by the most coldly impassionate of their number, Arishem...they pass judgment.

He was the Sun...and these were the first of his children.

A non-cellular humanoid Recorder... created in the image of man... an immortal thinking machine... incapable of feeling emotion...!

For a million generations, the Technarchs have obeyed two simple biological urges--the urge to feed, and the urge to breed. Bloated by a diet of plundered worlds, the mature Technarchs stalk the universe, searching for yet more "lifeglow" energy. They only ever return to their homeworld to challenge their offspring. Siredam against juvenile, in a fight to the death for the right to live.

The Fourth Age of Apocalypse ended with the founding of the City-Nation of Tian and the collapse of the Phoenix Eggs. Magneto, Savior of all Mutants, had gathered the survivors of the world's second Holocaust and brought them to his new kingdom. A place called Heaven, where all his angels would be safe... Safe from all the devils that still hunted them. It should have been a better world. Instead, it was soon to be no world at all.

The world changed overnight as the Great Machine caused cascading global Terrigenesis. Maximus, King of the Inhumans, had created the Well to induce the Great Change... And to usher in a new day for his expanding kingdom. The Royal Family watched as all the unchanged--The Lost Tribes and the Hidden Ones--Began to metamorphose as the Mist--The transformative fallout--Spread across the Globe. It should have been the start of a New Inhuman Age. Instead, it marked the end of the world.

They aided in the downfall of the Spider Demon, who had ruled over an entire city for close to a decade.

The cosmos... Countless worlds upon worlds... Worlds without end. In these galaxies, every possible reality exists, and what is reality on any one world is mere fantasy on all others. Here, all is real and all is illusion. What is, what was, and what will be start here with the words, "In the beginning there was, Howard the Duck!"

On December 8, 1940, a bullet fired one day before it was supposed to be fired. It took the life of Abraham Erskine, creator of the Super-Soldier Serum, before it could be used even once. The same bullet took the name of a young MP named Benjamin Parker. One bullet. One day. One incident. But the events of that day have rippled down through time and space, touching the lives of countless others, changing the course of history.

The bite of Steatoda nobilis, the "false widow"... carries a potent toxin. Add a huge dose of radiation... a poor, orphaned high school science nerd... and history takes a much different, and darker, turn.

How did these strange and astonishing humans become what they are? What mystic quirk of fate brought them together? From this moment on, the world would never again be the same!

In these dreams, he is happy... but that happiness never holds. Even in her dreams, she loses him.

The God Quarry. The rich soil of rotting deities from which all existence grows. The boundary between the orchard of all known realities and the First Firmament, the dark sea of infinite nothingness that came before.