The Tales of Sol 84A By Joe at3unit3@yahoo.com
This is a fictional story; it is not intended to imply that any members of the Backstreet Boys, Nsync, or 98 Degrees are gay, or any of the other celebrities mentioned are homosexuals. If you are not old enough to read these stories, do yourself a favor and don't get caught. The same goes for those people whose countries have these sites made illegal. And for everyone else enjoy
Captain Planet and related characters were created by R.E Turner and copyrighted by AOL Time Warner Company and Trademark by TBS Productions
Babylon 5 and all related characters and props were created by Michael Straczynski and copyrighted by Warner Bros.
Star Trek and all related characters created by Gene Roddenberry. Copyright Paramount
Transformers and all related characters, and props are trademarked by Hasbro Inc. Copyright Rhino Home Videos and AOL Time Warner Entertainment CO
He-Man, She-Ra, related characters, and props are trademarked by Filmation 1980s
Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, Angel, and all related characters created by Joss Whedon. Copyright 20th Century Fox.
Batman, and all related characters created by Bob Kane. Copyright DC Comics and Warner Bros.
X-MEN and all related characters were created by Stan Lee. Copyright Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox.
To those who've been reading Tales of Sol. I want you to know that there is sex in this story. That is not its sole purpose and yes I do hope the sex sense makes you all hard and gets you off.
Sol is an adaptation from my childhood favorite show Captain Planet and the Planeteers. The cartoon showed us that the world can be a better place if we take a few moments to care for it.
Tales of Sol is meant to express hope.
It also shows how music can have an impact in our lives. I don't know if my favorite bands 98 Degrees, Backstreet Boys, or Nsync have ever read this. They saw me through some of the hardest moments of my life and offered in their own way hope. To them, I say thank you.
I dedicate the Tales of Sol to all of my brothers and sisters of the US Armed Service past, present, and future.
I like to thank my friends whom I had the privilege of showing these chapters with. They helped with editing and inspiration,
John Rivera, Albert-Russ Alan Rivera-Odum, Derbe.D. Hunte Yvette Ortiz Samuel Diaz Jr for all their help in Making The Tales of Sol an enjoyable story to write.
And I have a few other names starting with the beginner of this universe.
James is the author of Tales of a Real Dark Knight. I still hope to reconnect with you dear friend and all the rest of this series.
Blake the author of Tales of a New Phoenix
Jeremi author of the Tales of Young Mutants
I am adding a few more remarks. I have entered into the 21st century of AI editing, I have been using various AI programs to help with grammar checks, clarity, and improvements to my story.
This story was edited with the help of GPT Workspace, Grammarly, Microsoft Copilot, and Quillbot AI software.
AI Use Disclosure: I used GPT Workspace to generate some text for my story, Grammarly to check my grammar and spelling, Microsoft Copilot to write some code snippets, and Quillbot to paraphrase some sentences. I verified the accuracy and originality of the AI-generated content and cited the sources that I used for reference.
References:
GPT Workspace. (2024, January 9). Version 1.0. [AI tool]. GPT Workspace Inc. https://gptworkspace.com/
Grammarly. (2024, January 9). Version 5.6. [AI tool]. Grammarly Inc. https://www.grammarly.com/
Microsoft Copilot. (2024, January 9). Version 2.3. [AI tool]. Microsoft Corporation. https://copilot.github.com/
Quillbot. (2024, January 9). Version 4.2. [AI tool]. Quillbot Inc. https://quillbot.com/
The Tales of Sol 84A
Learning New Tricks
As morning light filtered through the curtains, the other half of the bed felt stark and unoccupied. In the absence of Brian's warmth and the familiar comfort of his proximity, an emotional chill matched the coolness of the sheets.
A quiet sigh escaped as I made peace with the necessity of his absence; Brian's energy and commitment were dedicated elsewhere--touring, rehearsing, and delivering an escape through music to countless fans. His purpose was grand, his impact tangible, yet knowing the good he did did little to fill the void left behind in our home.
With a stretch to greet the day, I rose and wandered towards the kitchen, pausing by the window to take in the wintry scene. There was still plenty of snow left over from Dr. Blight's blizzard. The remnants of Dr. Blight's destructive tempest had been transformed by nature's hand into a serene view--my backyard blanketed in a layer of pristine snow, a testament to nature's ability to reclaim chaos and carve beauty in its wake.
The dimensions of my property stretched out before me, a reminder of the journey that had brought me here. The house that once shared walls with another had grown with my changes through life--my return from the Navy, my alliance with Dave, and the odd turn my life had taken, now laden with clandestine heroics and brushes with fame.
As I brewed my morning coffee, its aroma filled my kitchen further waking me up. The practical aspects of my expanded domain weren't lost on me. The space afforded privacy, an essential for someone who played host to celebrities seeking solace from the limelight--and doubled as a superhero whose nightly deeds were known to few.
I chuckled to myself, imagining the complexities of such happenings in the presence of inquisitive neighbors. Secret identities and impromptu pop star hideouts were certainly easier managed without next-door witnesses.
The tranquility of my solitary morning routines might contrast sharply with the vivacity of my double life, but these quiet moments offered both reflection and resolve, fueling the duality of my existence as Mike Pennock and as the guardian Sol.
It felt good to do something as mundane as these chores. The simplicity of shoveling snow was a refreshing change of pace. There, amid the routine task, I was just a regular guy--a neighbor attending to the wintry aftermath. My exceptional abilities, a secret to those in the surrounding homes, didn't quite factor into the equation, even though I felt less bothered by the cold and dealt with the physical exertion with ease.
This chore, so emblematic of normalcy, brought a sense of calm. For a brief period, the layers of complexity that usually enveloped my life were replaced by the straightforward challenge of clearing a snowy walkway.
As I opened the back shed to retrieve my shovel, I realized as I was cleaning a path down the driveway that I'd left the front yard open, lacking a protective fence. It had never been an issue before, but now, with luminaries like Brian and the Backstreet Boys frequenting my residence, an extra layer of privacy and protection seemed prudent.
BEATTI's infrastructure handled the security within the walls of my home with deft precision--the discretion of shutters, and the programmed defense for each friend's safe entry, all under the vigilant control of my digital overseer.
After shoveling snow and being out in the cold, a childhood memory returned, and I instantly went to make a cup of hot cocoa.
Sipping on the comforting warmth of hot chocolate, I gave my instructions to BEATTI. "File a request with the township. It's time we built a fence to encircle the property," I decided, setting plans into motion.
"Request is being processed," BEATTI responded with its typical efficiency, attesting to the blend of daily life and the extraordinary that characterized my world--a world in which snow shoveling and securing permits adjoined the grand saga of superhero duty and friendship.
BEATTI's timely update shifted my plans for the day. "The snowstorm has effectively shut down the base; no need to report in," it indicated with that familiar, neutral efficiency.
"Alright, then it's off to the Philadelphia Geothermal Power Plant as usual," I decided, content with the alternative. A brief and hearty breakfast later, I climbed into my truck, appreciative of its robust four-wheel drive as I navigated the snow-laden streets.
Upon arrival at the power plant, the familiar presence of Matt Christoff, the security guard, was a welcome sight amidst the frosty landscape. "Good morning, Mr. Pennock," he greeted, his voice warm against the chill.
I returned the greeting with a friendly nod. Matt stood as a steadfast figure at the gate, his build solid and his presence a reassuring constant. His shock of white hair, a trait marking his otherwise youthful mid-thirties demeanor, always caught one's eye. I knew a bit about his life--the loving family ties, his wife, and their three kids, the eldest of whom was on the brink of starting college.
These moments were brief, day-to-day interactions, but they painted the community tapestry--each thread vital, each story interwoven with the fabric of shared human experience. It was within this rich tapestry that both Guardian and Mike Pennock found purpose, navigating the ordinary world and the extraordinary with equal dedication.
"Good morning, Matt. How's the family holding up?" I inquired, already lowering my window to chat. It was the kind of ritual that stitched the fabric of daily interaction, the small pleasantries that connected lives.
Matt's grin was bright, a manifest pride for his family lighting up his face. "They're doing great, sir. Thanks for asking," he replied, his voice ringing with the contentment of a family man.
"I heard Jason's about to start college," I added, recalling bits of past conversations we had shared.
His laughter rang out, warm and hearty. "Yeah, he's a bundle of nerves about the whole affair."
I offered a word of encouragement for his son. "Tell Jason that while economics can be tough, it paves the way to a world of possibilities. All the best to him."
Matt's smile softened, parental gratitude softening the edges of his guard's demeanor. "Will do, Mr. Pennock."
I drove through and parked my truck beside Dave's Pontiac Trans Am. It always stood out, a relic from an era of muscle cars long past, maintained with careful respect for its legacy. The scarcity of specialists for such vintage autos meant Dave treated that car with particular care--a labor of love for mechanics and history that I admired.
These were the tidbits of normal life, easy to overlook in the grand scheme of things but essential in weaving a sense of community and continuity amid the fantastic realities I faced daily. They were the reminders of why I worked tirelessly behind the scenes because the ordinary world, with its Matts and their kids venturing into new chapters, was worth protecting.
The geothermal plant's bustling lobby was missing its usual sentinel, Stella, no doubt tending to the myriad of security matters that morning. Instead, Amy McDale's friendly presence welcomed me from behind the reception desk. "Good morning, sir," she greeted me warmly.
"Good to see you, Amy. How's the day treating you?" I replied, matching her buoyant tone.
Her smile was playful. "Well, I'm here, aren't I?" she joked.
"Seems so," I laughed, exchanging the comfortable office banter as I navigated towards Dave's office.
Stacy Ketchum, Dave's assistant, greeted me and had everything well in hand. Her efficiency and precision were a breath of fresh air after Margaret's time with us. Stacy didn't just manage the schedule; she unearthed details that had slipped through the cracks, like finding Dave's overlooked charitable contributions. Dave was going to be relieved that had not gone missing.
Handing me the papers, I passed through into Dave's domain. "How's your morning going, Mike?" Dave inquired, catching the undertone of my response.
"Feels empty," I admitted as I relayed the morning's little adventures, drawing a hearty chuckle from him.
After a brief pause, Dave broached a more personal topic. "Mike?" he began.
"Yes?" I turned to him, curious.
"How's everything with you and Brian?" he ventured, the sincerity of his question unmistakable.
The fondness in my response was undeniable. "I love him," I said, my affection for Brian was evident in my voice and undimmed by any distance between us.
"That is good to hear Mike, I know you two will make it work," Dave said my mentor's affirmation bolstered my spirits further. His confidence in my relationship with Brian mirrored my own, and it was a soothing balm against any latent worries. We delved into various discussions, one of which was the recent home improvement project I'd embarked upon. Dave's generous offer to liaise with Upper Darby Township seemed to lift a weight off my shoulders, and together we reviewed potential designs for the new fence, seeking a balance between security and aesthetics.
The morning progressed with our review of the expected proceedings at the geothermal plant. "I'm really impressed with Stacy's work so far," I commented, appreciative of her contributions to the smooth operations here.
Dave nodded in agreement. "Stacy coming aboard was quite the fortuitous encounter--I'm glad you found her," he added, the satisfaction evident in his voice.
Our review was punctuated by intermittent phone calls that Dave fielded with practiced ease. I poured over the daily activity reports, finding nothing that raised any alarms.
Gazing out the window, the snowflakes' graceful dance across the meadow caught my eye--a serene contrast to the previous storm's ferocity, the lingering chill offset by the promise of the sun's warmth.
That tranquility was shattered by the distinct ring of my cell phone--the direct line to the Lair that Dave and I used for urgent communications when public calls would be inappropriate.
BEATTI's report was immediate and urgent, "Sir, multiple Sentinels have been spotted near the studio where the Backstreet Boys are practicing."
The words sank in, a chill of a different kind settling over me. With a hurried glance towards Dave, his subsequent wave was all the confirmation I needed. Duty called, and there was no choice but to spring into action.
Excusing myself, going to the secret passageway that led to the subway lines that linked the power plant to the Lair. I was ready to confront these robotic rejects.
Personal ties to the Backstreet Boys aside, the Sentinels were an issue larger than any one person's concern--they were a danger to all. Of course, saving my love and my friends was mixed in there as well as a fortune happenstance. When the L-6000 approached the platform. I stepped on, ready to deal with this invasive problem, I knew that swift and decisive action was crucial. It was time for the Guardian to intervene and ensure the safety of my friends, and the peace of the city they currently called home.
Upon reaching the Lair, the sight of the silo capped with a thick layer of snow presented the first task at hand. Tapping into my powers, I summoned a whirlwind, gathering the snow with efficient control. Within moments, the white blanket was evenly distributed into both our lakes, proving once more the convenience of superhero capabilities for even the most domestic of chores. Of course, I didn't have nosy neighbors so I was free to use my powers.
With the way now clear, I made my way to the heart of the silo where Sea Dragon awaited, our eco-friendly behemoth of the skies. As the lift hummed to life, the vibration of ascent reverberated through the structure, a sure sign of readiness. I ran a swift preflight check, the panels and gauges of the cockpit lighting up in response to my deft touch. Then, with a symphony of mechanical precision, the silo doors parted, inviting the winter air into our warm cocoon of operations.
With a gentle push of the controls, the Sea Dragon's blades sliced through the air, stirring the remaining powder into a flurry. The helicopter, a CH-53C reimagined with green innovation in mind, was lifted with purpose. Its maiden voyage as a guardian vehicle followed a period of re-engineering--introducing solar power and high-capacity batteries to its energy matrix--a project initially interrupted by Count Mullack's chaos.
Now, as we ascended into the frigid sky, Sea Dragon roared with life, marking the official launch of its heroic duties. There was no time like the present to prove its mettle as the skies opened up to embrace us on our urgent course toward justice.
The timing could have been better. Indeed, I would have much rather pitted the robustness of this heavy-duty helicopter against something like SHIELD's famed helicarrier than the relatively fragile Geocruiser. Nevertheless, what's done is done. My new engine design, inspired by Sol's influence, was now a core component of the Sea Dragon, enhancing it in ways I couldn't have foreseen without the collaborative synergy with the Geocruiser and Ecocopter.
I tasked BEATTI with evaluating both vessels to extrapolate modifications conducive to the Sea Dragon's new systems. A pivot from traditional solar panels, the helicopter now boasted sophisticated solar arrays nestled under domes bearing the likeness of the Planeteers' insignia, a tribute to their enduring legacy interwoven with our own ongoing mission.
Among the unparalleled benefits of this advanced power system was the considerable reduction in noise pollution. The Sea Dragon, now operating in near-silence thanks to the combined prowess of the solar arrays and the battery cells, afforded me a level of stealth previously unattainable. As a silent giant, it became an asset of inestimable value, capable of clandestine maneuvers without detection.
The crown jewel of these enhancements was the holographic emitter system. With Sol's insight, these devices were refined to perfection, providing the chopper with an invisibility cloak from radar and various electronic surveillance. The Sea Dragon, once a mere chopper, had transcended to become a paragon of green technology and espionage capability. The convergence of eco-consciousness and subterfuge in one formidable machine was evidence of the heights that innovation could reach when spurred by noble intent and elemental wisdom. Now after close to a month of work, the solar-powered systems were now fully operational.
The Sea Dragon was now a ghost in the skies, its presence unnoticed by those below, a modern marvel of ingenuity and stealth. It brought me back to the incident with Devin--Brian's former tormentor--except this time, the Sea Dragon's newfound capabilities meant that even a venue as iconic as Madison Square Garden would remain oblivious to the helicopter lurking above.
As Veteran Stadium came into view, what I saw ignited a fury within me--Sentinels indiscriminately firing into a panicked crowd, with no regard for bystander safety. Their reckless abandon fueled my resolve; these mechanical giants needed to be stopped. I didn't have the same reserves for Sentinels as I did for humans or any living being. These tin cans were about to meet their match.
An added motivation, however, was the practical benefit their commandeer presented. "Who knew saving the day could also mean salvaging the day?" I mused to myself.
"What can I say, I like this whole recycling bit," I said to myself.
With the procurement of Sentinel parts, I could not only halt the chaos but also reclaim valuable technology for BEATTI's communication upgrades.
The Sea Dragon's recent solar enhancements made the aircraft more responsive than ever, the controls fluid under my touch as I maneuvered the craft with increasing familiarity. Yet amid the seamless operation, a thought crossed my mind--a partnership with the Navy could refine my piloting skills even further. There was much to gain from advanced training, a potential collaboration that could redefine aerial tactics for the better.
The mission was clear. Subdue the Sentinels, gather their remains, and ensure the safety of Philadelphia. With the Sea Dragon at my command and my dedication ironclad, I dove into the fray, ready to turn threats into opportunities and adversaries into advantages.
The unfolding chaos at Veteran Stadium served as a golden opportunity for the covert observer perched atop a nearby factory roof. High-tech binoculars in hand, the Hispanic agent watched intently, knowing well the Guardian's inevitable involvement in the crisis. It was a predictable move; the Sentinels' ruthless attack demanded intervention, and the presence of the Backstreet Boys, especially the Guardian's significant other, guaranteed an immediate response.
Shadowing the Guardian had borne fruit, yielding insights into the hero's movements and operations. The band's routines and locations had unwittingly become a beacon for the Guardian, and in turn, for anyone tracking the hero's actions.
A flicker of movement caught the agent's eye--the Guardian's Sea Dragon had appeared, asserting its formidable presence before fading into invisibility. The aircraft's cloaking capabilities remained a baffling enigma, evading even the most sophisticated detection tools the agency had at its disposal.
All the agent needed to do now was watch the unfolding spectacle. The Guardian would face the Sentinels and the agent's mission--gathering intelligence on this elusive hero--would progress unhindered. It was a waiting game, with high stakes and the promise of valuable intel on the horizon.
Landing my helicopter in a parking lot that was not being used Ensuring my helicopter was concealed from prying eyes and enemy targets, I employed the hologrid, rendering it innocuous to any passerby or potential threat.
Confronting these repulsive robotic rejects. The ominous Sentinels were in active assault shooting lasers at the frightened people. A few had hit the snow, causing it to melt. "Time to give these bastards the slip," I said, quickly enacting my instant plan. The melted snow presented the perfect opportunity. "A little slip and slide should do the trick," I muttered, blowing a concentrated gust across the water. Instantly, it froze, transforming the parking surface into a treacherous sheet of ice. As one Sentinel stepped forward, its metallic feet flew out from under causing the metal monster to lose its balance, crashing down in a clumsy display. Hitting the concrete hard. A throng of onlookers, once in peril, now found reprieve.
This initial intervention was a mere stopgap, I knew I had to take more action against these overgrown toy soldiers. The scene before me called for a more effective and lasting solution against these automaton assailants. "What would Cap do in a situation like this?" I pondered tapping into the ingenuity that Captain Planet would employ against such forces as these Sentinels. was known for, accessing a solution from the natural world--vigorous vines that could subdue and contain with the unassuming might of flora.
"Now seems like the best time for me to branch out my new abilities and explore new areas," I declared as curled into a ball in a flash of light, my body changed into a multitude of withering vines projected at the first robot, wrapping the robotic reject from head to toe.
Reforming back to human form atop the incapacitated machine's ugly metallic nose, In a sarcastic tone that Captain Planet would have been proud of, "Having a 'vine' time down at the stadium, are we?" I said.
I couldn't resist another comedic jab. "Looks like you're all tied up at the moment," I quipped, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
Assured in the vines' strength, I watched as the Sentinel struggled futilely. "Vines are deceptively strong aren't they," I mocked the robot as it tried to escape.
I flew to the top of its head and placed a finger down. "There is always time to unwind," I touched down upon its head and let loose another volley of humor. "We all need a bit of a 'twist' now and then," I chuckled before I spun the metal monster until the vines wore it down to a sprocket. Ready for recycling. I made a note of this pile for our purposes.
"Boy talk about weight loss," I remarked sarcastically as I took off after the three remaining Sentinels, wondering what else I could do.
I was curious if Captain Planet could only shape himself into plants. The rich heritage of Captain Planet's powers lingered in my thoughts, a legacy of elemental prowess honed over countless centuries. In contrast, my tenure as Sol was still fresh, I only had his powers for a few months. leaving me acutely aware that the depths of these abilities remained largely unexplored I have barely scratched the surface--a repository of potential waiting to be unlocked.
"I need to go back to the X-Men to relearn my powers, but for now, let us experiment," I wondered as I watched the three remaining Sentinels blasting everything in sight.
While this wasn't the time to do so I was still pondering the flexibility of my powers, I considered a return to the X-Men for further training. Their understanding of abilities that transcended the normal human experience would be invaluable. But in the here and now, the immediate threat demanded immediate action.
"For now, let's put theory into practice," I resolved quietly to myself, eyes trained on the Sentinels wreaking havoc. Their relentless barrage against the landscape around them was a call to action I could not ignore.
With the spirit of experimentation guiding me, and the need to safeguard the innocent pressing upon my resolve, I prepared to push my elemental transformation to new limits. The time for exploration was at hand, and within the chaos of Sentinel fire, I readied myself to implement unknown facets of Sol's abilities against the towering threats before me. It was a dual quest--defending and discovering all at once--a test of the very powers that connected me to the Earth and its energies.
As the Sentinels towered like steel behemoths over the cityscape blasting away, I figured I might as well try and go big here. "What this situation calls for is one giant taking on another," I said
I recognized the call for an equally imposing challenger. "Size might just be the key," I mused, deciding to take a bold leap into the vast unknown of my capabilities. "Let's scale up the response."
Feeling the surge of transformation ripple through me, I embraced the prospect of embodying a behemoth from Earth's ancient past. In a blur of sensation, I began the metamorphosis into a towering Brontosaurus. My vision sharpened and expanded, my perspective elevated as I grew in size and stature, hands and feet elongating into the sturdy limbs of a dinosaur.
A tail unfurled behind me for balance, and my neck extended skyward, granting me the guise of the gentle giant of the Jurassic. My skin took on the tough texture of scales, and a formidable weight settled into my newly colossal frame.
Completion of the transformation signaled an awe-inspiring sight: I was now the thunder lizard, imposing yet serene. Casting my gaze through the window of a nearby building, the shock of office dwellers tumbling in surprise and coffee accidents could have been comical if not for the pressing circumstances.
The reflection of my new form in the glass brought a wash of satisfaction over me. "I'd call this a `big' success, Talk about rising to the occasion," I chuckled internally
Yet, self-congratulation would have to be brief -- the Sentinels were still a threat, and with the might of a Brontosaurus at my disposal, it was time to engage, to protect as only a guardian of my stature could. The work of a hero never ceases, and though I had triumphed over my own limits, the true battle was just beginning.
The rhythmic exertions of the Backstreet Boys mirrored the intense skirmish unfolding outside. The stadium acted as a juxtaposition of creativity against conflict, with the performers perfecting their routines and the Guardian locked in his larger-than-life struggle with the Sentinels.
But as the building began to tremble, an instinctual reaction seized Brian. Driven by concern, his feet carried him offstage, the other band members swiftly trailing behind him. They moved as one, their unity as undeniable in crisis as it was in harmony on stage.
Hank's voice, tinged with exasperation, trailed after them, futile against the pull of the moment. "Guys! Get back here, we are not finished yet!" Yet, his protests fell on deaf ears--there were larger concerns at stake.
Tony, sensing the disruption, arrived on the scene, his worry palpable. "Hank, what's happening here?" he questioned amidst the chaos.
The choreographer's frustration was evident as he pointed out the unusual break in the band's discipline. "They've just up and left mid-practice."
The Guardian's confrontation with the mechanical titans outside, unknown to those within, had inadvertently spilled over into the Backstreet Boys' realm, disrupting the cadence of preparation and prompting an interruption that was as unexpected as it was understandable. In these moments, the lines between their worlds blurred--a reminder that even in the pursuit of art and performance, they could not remain isolated from the battles fought to maintain the peace and safety they so often celebrated in song.
Just outside the stadium, the Backstreet Boys' precipitous exit came to an abrupt standstill as they beheld three Sentinels beleaguering the frightened crowd. The harrowing sight captured their full attention, and their hearts raced with concern.
Suddenly, amidst the attacks, a staggering strike of force impacted one of the Sentinels. A significant, weighty appendage--seemingly a tail--delivered a crushing blow. The robot's metallic body imploded under the might, scattering its components across the vicinity in a hail of debris.
"Did you see that?" Nick voiced his disbelief, eyes wide at the sudden turn of events.
Howie, equally stunned, pieced together the startling visual. "Yes, I think... it was a tail," he said, the pieces falling into place as they considered what--or who--could wield such force.
The band members exchanged glances, each aware of the unprecedented spectacle unfolding before them. Unspoken questions hung in the air, their concern now compounded by a new sense of awe at the display of raw power that had temporarily turned the tide against the oversized assailants.
The remaining two Sentinels were now all firing at something in the distance.
Brian, along with the rest of the band, stood at the threshold, a scene that defied belief and logic unfurling beyond. There it was--a real, live dinosaur, battling the technological tyranny of the Sentinels. The sight was so surreal it commanded complete attention, leaving them momentarily paralyzed in wonder.
Kevin was the first to find his voice, barely a whisper, breaking the shared trance. "Is that... a dinosaur?"
Nick looked out, squinting as if doing so might rearrange the impossible into reality. "It looks like a Brontosaurus?"
AJ, with surprising surety, nodded. "Yes it is a dinosaur, and yes, it's definitely a Brontosaurus."
Confusion reigned, as Howie voiced the obvious question echoing through each of their minds. "How the hell did a dinosaur get here?"
The Brontosaurus was an imposing force of nature, its sinewy neck releasing a powerful attack that crumpled another Sentinel crushing it like an oversized soda can
Kevin, ever the voice of reason, paced through the baffling occurrence. "I am not sure, there's been nothing in the news about giant prehistoric creatures stomping around Philly."
"And aren't they supposed to be, you know... extinct?" Nick added, voicing a fundamental fact that seemed to have escaped reality's grasp.
Howie glanced at the snow-covered ground, considering another inconsistency. "Aren't cold-blooded animals like dinosaurs supposed to dislike the cold?"
AJ couldn't resist a chuckle, despite the urgency. He gestured outward, towards the lumbering herbivore now marked as their new friend. "Maybe you'd all like to explain that to our Jurassic friend over there."
Their flurry of questions went unanswered, the extraordinary sight before them a mystery in need of solving. Amid the snow, beneath the shock and amusement, lay the knowledge that whatever this creature's origins, it was on their side. And in that realization, the initial trepidation gave way to a united front as they watched the gargantuan beast take on the Sentinels in a battle as ancient as it was unforeseen.
The final Sentinel attempted to rope the ancient creature, perhaps sensing its inevitable defeat, the Sentinel made a last-ditch effort to subdue the prehistoric titan before it. Chains shot out in an attempt to bind the Brontosaurus, only to prove futile against the immense strength of its muscular form. With an effortless shrug, the dinosaur shed the metal bonds as though they were mere ribbons.
Amidst the chaos, a knowing smile graced Brian's face--a look that sprang from recognition and a touch of amusement. "Babe, only you would do it," he said under his breath, his laughter a gentle echo of his realization.
Kevin, confused by the incongruity of Brian's reaction, questioned him. "Brian?" he probed.
"What?" Brian answered through chuckles, his expression revealing an inner joke shared with none but himself.
Kevin persisted, curiosity growing, "Why are you smiling, Brian?"
The playful sarcasm was thick in Brian's voice, "Was I smiling?" It was the smirk that spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of the truth lurking just beyond their immediate understanding.
Observing Brian's demeanor, Nick recognized the signs, "Brian, that's no coy grin--that's an all-out sarcastic beam."
The attention of the entire group shifted towards Brian, their interest piqued.
AJ's intuition flickered like the twinkle in his eye. "You know something, don't you?" he teased, his laughter joining Brian's.
With a nod, Brian leaned into the levity of the moment. "Perhaps I do," he confessed, his joy spilling over as he witnessed the heroic absurdity before them.
Howie, still piecing together the marvel they were witnessing, asked, "What's the deal here, Brian?"
Brian's response was cryptic yet clear. "It's not so much a matter of what, but who," he mused, his gaze fixed on the mighty Brontosaurus as it rose to its full, majestic height, dwarfing the mechanical adversary it faced.
"And who else would be bold enough to throw a dinosaur into the fray against Sentinels?" Brian questioned rhetorically, gesturing to the spectacle unfolding before their eyes. His pride was evident, a reflection of his admiration for the cunning and courage that such an audacious move represented--traits he knew all too well in his partner.
The realization hit Nick in a wave of clarity, the unusual pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place. "Mike?" he blurted out as the understanding took hold.
Brian's affirmative nod confirmed Nick's epiphany, eliciting smiles from the group while punctuating the extraordinary scene. The giant Brontosaurus, a miraculous conjuring of Sol's power, descended with earth-shaking force, its enormous legs pressing down with a sound befitting its moniker as the thunder lizard. The impact reverberated through the stadium, a kinetic display that left no doubt of the Sentinel's fate--flattened into no more than metallic scrap.
Grinning at the spectacle, "They never stood a chance," AJ remarked, his amusement shared by the other band members.
Kevin expressed his acknowledgment of the power play they had witnessed. "With powers of the Earth at his command, the odds are always in Guardian's favor," he observed, his appreciation and admiration for Mike's formidable abilities clear.
At that moment, the sheer awe of witnessing a modern miracle--a dinosaur manifesting to protect--was joined by the unity of the group. Brian's love for Mike, the band's fellowship, and the unyielding spirit of their guardian friend blended into a feeling of shared triumph against the mechanized forces that had sought to disrupt the peace.
The Brontosaurus, a majestic emblem of Sol's might, seamlessly reverted back to the human form of the Guardian, his cloak fluttering in the wind as it reformed. The metamorphosis was a brilliant testament to the Guardian's adaptability and control over his powers.
"Shit!" Howie's excitement was palpable, his admiration for Mike's abilities clear as day. "Seriously, first he alchemizes oak tables into titanium, and now he's busting out the dinosaur act!" he exclaimed with a mix of awe and humor. The sight of Mike's dual transformations had left everyone at the stadium enthralled.
Surveying the aftermath, the Guardian observed the once-threatening metal behemoths now reduced to inert piles of wreckage. His whirlwinds stirred to life, wrapping around the Sentinels' remnants. Benches emerged, and new trash cans took form where formidable adversaries once stood--a final act of reclamation.
Deciding to underscore the event with a touch of light-hearted bravado, AJ couldn't resist a quip. "Guardian's taking the whole 'reduce, reuse, recycle' thing to new heights!" The spectacle drew both amusement and wonder from the band and the surrounding onlookers, as Guardian and the remaining Sentinels dissipated into nothingness.
Nick's laughter mingled with the thrill of the moment. "It's a charming solution you gotta hand it to him, that's one heck of a cleanup."
As the Backstreet Boys trooped back to resume their rehearsal, the echoes of laughter filled the stadium. Howie's mirth was touched with a hint of concern, his thoughts drifting to potential adversaries. `What's Hades planning with Mike wielding such power?'
Brian's response was a prideful demonstration. "Ah, but you haven't seen anything yet. Trust me, Guardian's capacity for the extraordinary is just getting started."
The remarkable display had bolstered their spirits, reinforcing their bond and turning their focus back to the artistry awaiting them on stage. Yet underpinning the friendship and awe was an understanding that the Guardian--Mike--was an invaluable companion, a source of protection, and indeed, full of unforeseen wonders.
Howie harbored the realization like a closely guarded secret, tucked away in the recesses of his mind where only he could access it. "If there's a way out of Hades's clutches, it has to be through Guardian," he contemplated the thought almost a whisper in the back of his consciousness.
This belief was more than a mere wish; it was a beacon of hope in the darkness Hades had woven around him. Yet, the urgency to communicate this revelation to Mike, his trusted friend and the embodiment of protection, was met with an equal measure of caution. Howie was acutely aware that risking the ire of the god of the underworld was a dangerous gambit--one that could weave a more treacherous web around them all.
Nurturing the thought, Howie sought a path--a means of conveying the urgent plea without tipping Hades off to his intent. It was a delicate balance to strike, requiring tact and astuteness. Mike, as the Guardian, symbolized a way out--a potential savior from the god's sinister designs. But the message had to be relayed subtly, a challenge fit for a mind as astute as Howie's.
Perched upon his throne, Hades' disapproval painted his face as he watched the uneven scuffle between Guardian and the Sentinels on his viewing globe. Watching the nincompoop alter his form multiple times. Each transformation and display of might only deepen the god's scowl. "This is not good," he muttered under his breath, his disdain for the unfolding scene as palpable as the power he felt surging from his adversary.
"I was hoping he would not know how to use most of his powers until after I have rearranged the cosmos," the Greek God scoffed. "He is indeed powerful."
He had hoped that Guardian's grasp of his vast capabilities would remain limited, at least until Hades' grand designs came to fruition. "I expected his ignorance to be a boon, not a curse," Hades sneered. "Yet, here he stands, awakening to the full breadth of his powers even before the heavens shift."
The realization propelled Hades into a precarious corner; his schemes teetered on the brink of unraveling at the hands of this powerful Guardian. "Time grows short; I must concoct a plan with haste, or all of my planning will be for nothing," he resolved.
Amidst his plotting, Hades recognized Guardian's potential vulnerabilities. One, in particular, stood out--the bond with Brian Littrell. Such a focal point of affection could be exploited, yet Hades was conscious of the wrath that would surely follow if direct harm befell Brian. Sol's vengeance would be swift and fierce, a risk he wasn't yet willing to take.
"I do not have to harm the poof's lover; his devotion to his favorite band will suffice," Hades laughed.
A malevolent smile twisted Hades' lips as an alternative stratagem emerged. "Why use brute force when subtler threads can entangle," he mused, reveling in the notion that sometimes emotional associations could serve as a more piercing weapon than the sharpest blade.
His gaze fixed upon Howie once more, the unwitting tool in his elaborate chess game. "Your trust in Howie will be your undoing," Hades cackled with twisted delight. While Guardian wielded elemental might, Hades armed himself with a different sort of power--one of manipulation and deceit. In the brewing storm of cosmic conflict, solace rested on uncertain grounds, and every friendship's faithfulness would be tested to its limits.
Perched with a vantage point that allowed for thorough surveillance, the Hispanic agent scanned the battlefield with binoculars enhanced by the pinnacle of optic technology. Still, the reality unfolding before him defied any expectations set by his organization's briefings and intelligence reports.
Transformation--Guardian's newfound ability, or rather, an unrevealed facet of his capabilities--challenged the very foundations of the agent's understanding. There before him, Guardian manipulated his form with unparalleled control, initially condensing into tendrils of vine to ensnare one of the mechanical giants.
But it was Guardian's subsequent metamorphosis into a formidable dinosaur that truly astounded the observer. With astonishing might mirroring that of the prehistoric beast, Guardian swiftly rendered the Sentinels inoperative, their frames crumbling under the sheer brute force of his attacks.
This display was more than tactical prowess--it was a show of evolutionary wonder, a combination of raw strength and environmental mastery that the agent hadn't anticipated as within Guardian's wheelhouse. The stakes had undeniably shifted, and the implications of Guardian's ability to shape-shift demanded a reassessment of the strategies in place to monitor him.
These revelations carried significance beyond the agent's mission. The mutant community--often maligned, feared, or revered--would undoubtedly take interest in Guardian's demonstration. His actions might, in some ways, kindle a shared sense of triumph or perhaps deepen the mystery and caution that accompanied such power.
Resolving to keep a keen eye on both Guardian and the reaction his actions might incite within the mutant circles, the agent recognized a new critical element in the monitoring of this guardian of Earth. The unfolding saga of Guardian's capabilities was a chapter laden with potential alliances, threats, and the ever-present need for keen observation from those tasked with discerning the true scope of his impressive powers.
To be continued
With the newfound ability to change his form what other boundaries can Mike cross as he learns to use the powers, the late Captain Planet bestowed on him? How will they play out in the future and how will our hero keep from being tempted to use them for his own selfish desires? Even more, how will they affect his inevitable encounter with Hades, and how Howie D fits into the picture? Just as troubling is the unknown forces who are also using the Backstreet Boys against Guardian. How they fit in this story and the ultimate reasons behind their surveillance of the hero.
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I also recommend the following stories. It was because of them I got into writing in the first place.
"Tales of a Real Dark Knight" by authorjames
"Marvel Knights" also by authorjames
"Tales of the New Phoenix" by Blake
"Tales of a Superhero Band" by Leo
"Tales of a Young Mutant" by Jeremi
"Tales of a Thunder God" by Tony Justiss