The Fury races towards its target. There is nothing graceful in the way it moves. It runs like a retarded child… a flailing engine of unhindered force, not designed to meet human standards of poise and beauty. But it is very fast and very strong. It is a beast of singular purpose. Its purpose is to find. Its purpose is to follow. And to kill. Really, it doesn’t care what it looks like.
Without care, it races towards a horrified, already badly injured Captain Britain and begins to mercilessly pound at him. Ignoring his weak Don’t…. It tosses him though a wall.
Elsewhere, a crooked god reviews his paradise of ruins. He feels so angry that he wants to go to sleep. However, seeing the humor of the situation, he weeps instead. He is lonely, but he is also God and he makes friends easily. With that thought, James Jaspers creates the Crazy Gang from scratch. He addresses the five newborn distorted versions of ‘Lewis Carroll’ characters, announcing that he is Jim Jaspers. Mad Jim Jaspers actually. They can call him “Mad.” He made them.
I made everything, actually Jaspers cheerfully and madly continues. I made the sky. I made the tiger and the lamb. I put the bop in the bop shebop shebop and the ram in the rama lama dingdong. He continues the litany while Captain Britain , still carried onwards by the force of the Fury’s blow bursts through one of Jaspers’ campaign posters just at the back of the real Jaspers. Following him on the heels is the Fury, intent on finishing its work. Jaspers gives the creature an irritated look. Well, I don’t remember making that! he announces decisively and walks over to the Fury which is just about to finish Captain Britain off.
I say! You, Johnny footballface Jaspers addresses the Fury as he walks towards it. Sorry to intrude but I happen to be God in this neck of the woods. He gets lost in thought, wondering if they have met before He has this strange sensation of deja-vu… Does it ever get feelings like that?
The Fury too studies the man in front of it carefully, its actual prey, Captain Britain, all but forgotten. Its creator had been man named Jaspers. A man very like this man, He had created it to destroy every superbeing in its continuum except for Jaspers himself. It had always found that vaguely frustrating, an irritation deep within its chip-encrusted cortex. It had wanted to kill Jaspers, but its programming said no. Of course, that Jaspers was dead. This was a different Jaspers.
It drops Captain Britain as Jaspers walks off, bored. Foreigners! I ask you, he informs the Crazy Gang, while pointing at the Fury. The deadly creature, in the meantime, has come to a decision and is now making preparations. It points at Jaspers with its gun-hand. Oh, hello. What’s this he’s doing, Japers asks, amused and clueless. Shake hands? You want shake hands great white god from over water? Hmm?
The Fury fires. Nothing is left of Japers, save a scorched skeleton. And then the skeleton moans as its flesh begins to regenerate. Jaspers now is dressed as a boxer with a superior physique. Now I say, old horse. That simply isn’t shuttlecock, is it? That isn’t shuttlecock at all! He takes an angry swing at the Fury, transforming it into a ball.
A month ago, the transformation would have killed it. It has battled the parahumans known as the Special Executive since then. It has absorbed a computer the size of a cave. It learns, adapts. Retaliates. The Fury globe attacks Jaspers and dissolves him. Jaspers in turn becomes several little floating balls. The Fury fires at them, popping them. Jaspers turns into a cloud of acid rain, the acid becoming spikes to attack the Fury from within. Both of them wildly change shapes in their battle. Hiding behind some rubble, Captain UK and Saturnyne can only watch in horrified fascination.
On Otherworld via a viewscreen, Roma sees the battle as well. She angrily addresses her sitting father, Merlyn, demanding to know what is going on. The game is disintegrating, she announces. But the multiverse depends on the game. That’s what he said. Is this the end? He’s lost, hasn’t he? They’ve all lost. When Merlyn doesn’t reply Roma angrily shakes him. He just falls over to the ground clearly dead already. Merlyn? his daughter whispers in disbelief.