Humpday 3

Artwork by: Written by:

The overall setting:

Ultrawoman is owned by and is used with the permission of: Welcome Back!

Concussion and story concept by
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BOOK ONE: CONCUSSION STRIKES

Angel Falls time 8:30 am, Wednesday

Berlin time ?, 1945


She didn’t know what happened, but the first thing she remembered was darkness. One second she was looking over the diagnostic of her cannon, the next, she was falling backwards and everything blacked out. Then there was thunder as she came to. She could feel heat on her face and heard people screaming.

When Ultrawoman opened her eyes, she was in an alleyway. She pushed herself up from the cobblestone paving and lurched unsteadily to her feet. There was an explosion and she fell to the ground. She felt nauseas and didn’t like it. Vyr-Na was homo supremis, damn it, and she was not supposed to be sick.

Taking some deep breaths to settle herself, she looked up to see the opening of the alleyway. Something seemed familiar about the buildings across the street, but it was hard to tell since they were on fire. She pushed herself up again and strode purposefully to the street to get a better bearing on where she was and what was happening.

There was another roll of thunder and the ground trembled. She kept her footing this time and reached the opening. At the street, her breath caught in her throat.

She knew where she was. She rarely saw the grand old stone structures and ancient streets from this vantage when she was a super-powered operative for the Third Reich, but she knew the location almost instinctively. The red-and-white flags with the eagles emblazoned beneath the swastika were a dead giveaway, too.

This was Berlin.

This was Berlin as it was bombed to oblivion by the Allied Forces in the last days of what would later be called the Second World War. This was once her home.

But why was she here!?

She wandered the devastated city in a daze. Soldiers ushered civilians to shelters, children cried, and more bombs exploded.

It wasn’t Ultrawoman’s first time travel rodeo. She didn’t waste time thinking she could change anything. Berlin was still going to burn, regardless of her influence. If she had anything to do with what happened now, it would happen. What concerned her, instead, was how she got here and how she was going to get back home to her plans.

“Of course I would find myself in a situation like this,” she muttered to herself, her head shaking a little in agitation, “Just when everything’s going right, something has to go wrong.”

She decided to head back to the alley she had awoken in first. If there were any clues to be had, they would be there. Vyr-Na had to act fast or she risked an errant explosive destroying her only way home.

The alley hadn’t been destroyed. The great stone buildings framing it had been hit, but stood resolute against the onslaught. Inside the passage, she found some garbage, but little else. Kicking the detritus aside, she cursed. There was nothing here except what would normally have been here. No devices, no creatures, no…

She smelled something. A cologne. Narrowing her eyes, she thought about her last moments before winding up here. That smell had been there… Alcohol mixed with something that was supposed to be similar to the ocean. For her sense of smell, the cheap stuff was almost always foul, and this stuff was definitely cheap.

“Whoever you are,” Ultrawoman growled, tossing her head back to get her golden hair out of her face as she turned to scan the street, “You have something to do with my being here. Come out where I can see you, and tell me how I get home!”

“I’m right here, Vyr-Na,” a cold, gravelly voice replied behind her, in the alley where she had just been looking, “Oh, excuse me, I seem to have some phlegm in my throat…”

The owner of the voice growled to clear his throat, finally spitting on the ground. The black-and-white clad woman turned to face her tormentor. She was surprised to find a man in jeans and a T-shirt. He was simply unremarkable.

“You have five seconds to explain yourself before I tear out your spine.”

“Such a temper,” the man chuckled, his voice now low and even, “My father always worried about upsetting you. I never understood why. You seemed so beautiful… How could you possibly be cruel?”

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Ultrawoman asked, “Who are you?”

“Of course, after a time, I learned the truth about you. How you use everyone around you, have no room in your cold heart for romantic notions or even close friends… Indeed, even before your grand ‘master stroke,’ you had your support staff and closest allies retreat to Earth because you simply didn’t want them taking away from the glory… You had to conquer the world, all on your lonesome…”

“Alright, I’m done with this,” Ultrawoman narrowed her eyes and twin beams lanced toward her opponent’s leg.

The lasers struck, causing the blue jeans to glow briefly. Looking closely, Vyr-Na realized that some form of energy field had absorbed her attack. The man chuckled again.

“I know what you’re thinking. Energy field… No. I simply pulled in the nearby dust and dirt, compacted it with extreme pressure and put it in the way…”

Ultrawoman quirked her eyebrow at the man now. He was certainly more than he appeared, and she cursed herself in the back of her mind for thinking things would be so easy. She assumed an offensive stance, looking as if she were preparing to lunge for her enemy.

He reacted predictably. An arm shot up and a lightning bolt lanced out at her. Ultrawoman dove back into the burning streets and rolled away. She could have flown, but she had a bad feeling about this encounter.

“My father worked so hard for you,” the man growled as he stepped into the street after her, “He was your loyal servant, like so many other loyal servants! I looked up to you! But when he was arrested, you did nothing! He rotted away in prison, and you let him die!”

“Boy,” she replied coldly, “Sometimes, people have to pay the piper. If your father were smart, he’d have gotten away.”

“We believed in you!” the young man shouted again, throwing another bolt of lightning her way, “You could have broken him free!”

“Kid, there are so many things that could-!”

“Shut up!” the man was livid, his eyes were glowing and energy was crackling around the two of them, “You’re not talking your way out of this, you ice-hearted bitch! I brought you here, where you first learned the taste of failure, so you could suffer! You’re so self-centered, you can’t even see the importance of this event…”

“I came to terms with my role in this,” Ultrawoman snorted back.

“Then I will simply have to think of something else to make you suffer,” the man replied as he raised his hand, “Before you go to sleep, you will know my name is Concussion.”

So much ran through Ultrawoman’s head in that instant. Finally, this nonsense is over. What the Hell kind of name was “Concussion?” What was his or his father’s connection to her? How did such a pointless-looking goon gain such tremendous power?

There was another bright flash and the world went dark again.
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