Steve Rogers looked sadly at the grave while the minister spoke. As Captain America, he had fought alongside Wildcat as a member of the Justice Society of America sixty years ago. When Wildcat quit the JSA, he and Cap lost touch. Then Cap had his . . . incident after the war when he was frozen. Since he was revived, he hadn't seen Ted. And now it was too late.

Cap looked over and saw that Alan Scott, Jay Garrick and the blind psychiatrist Dr. Charles McNider were also in attendance. Years ago, they had been known respectively as Sentinel, Flash, and Dr. Mid-Nite. They had also fought along with Cap and Wildcat on the JSA.

Steve moved alongside his three old colleagues. They nodded in acknowledgment of him and the whole group of them listened to the rest of the service. Steve felt very strange, since he was still young, and his three old friends were now so old. Alan didn't age as fast as most people. His ring slowed his aging. But he was still looked much older than Steve did.

"Another one of us gone," Jay Garrick said. "And so soon after Chuck Lane."

"Chuck Lane?" Steve asked.

"Remember the Jester?" Alan asked. "His name was Chuck Lane. He died a few days ago."

"I hadn't heard," Steve said sadly.

Dr. McNider looked thoughtful. "I heard he died of sudden heart failure too."

"Yeah, he did," Jay answered.

"Strange," McNider said. "They were both so healthy. Fitness obsessed. No history of heart problems. It's a strange coincidence that two men who were in such good shape for their age, both former masked adventurers, should die of sudden massive heart failure within a week of each other. "

"You were a super-hero too long," Jay said. "You're still finding menaces in your own shadow."

"You know what they say," McNider said, "just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're not out to get you."

"I wouldn't worry about it, Chuck," Alan said. "We're at that age where these things happen."

"Maybe," McNider said. "What do you think, Steve? You were our leader. If you think there's something to this, we'll check it out."

Steve was feeling very strange. He was feeling guilty for not being old. The rest of them were "at that age where these things happen." But Captain America had cheated time as he had so often cheated death. But Wildcat had not. It was inevitable. We all have to go someday. Still, Dr. Charles McNider--Dr. Mid-Nite--was the most logical, level headed person Cap had ever met. He wasn't the type to create rationalizations to help him feel better about his mortality. Emotions never altered his judgement. When he thought that there was something strange going on, there usually was.

"If your instincts tell you that something's fishy," Steve said, "you should follow them. Let me know if you come up with anything."

"I'll do that," McNider said. "Thanks."

It was harder for Dr. McNider to get permission to examine Chuck Lane's files but he had enough clout to finally get a hold of them. He wasn't surprised to learn that the Jester had also died from a burst heart. This was no coincidence. This was murder!

He immediately phoned Steve Rogers.

"I'm at the Holy Heart hospital, examining the files on Chuck Lane. I already looked at Ted's. Someone killed them, Steve," McNider said.

"What?!" Steve answered shocked. "Are you sure?"

"It has to be," McNider said. "By my estimation . . . "

Steve heard a crash over the phone. "Doc, are you okay?"

"It's the murderer!" Dr. McNider yelled.

Steve heard a strange sound, something like Iron-Man's repulsor rays. Dr. McNider screamed, and then all went silent.

"Doc!" Steve yelled, "Chuck! Are you there?! Are you all right?!"

"Glad you're here, Cap," a cop said, "Looks like we got a super villain perp here. Broke in through the wall, three floors up, and burned this poor guy. Did it all in a few seconds. The staff heard the sounds and got here in about ten seconds, but our killer was gone already."

Cap kneeled down next to the body. He felt a wave of incredible sadness as he looked at his old friend. He had so often relied on the advice of Dr. Mid-Nite, and he was never let down. He should have listened this time. Maybe Charles would still be alive.

"You know this guy, Cap?" the cop asked.

Cap nodded. "Yes, I do. I did. He was a good man."

Cap stood up and composed himself--outwardly at least. He watched as the body was removed. I'll never have Dr. Mid-Nite to advise me again, he thought.

He thought about his beloved wife, who had died many years ago. She used to be Miss America, his partner in crime fighting. They had belonged to the Seven Soldiers of Victory together. Those days were long since behind him now. His days of excitement were over.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw something. He turned to get a better look and saw the strange being floating in the air, staring menacingly at him. He got up and ran. Ran with amazing speed for such an old man. He tried to evade the laser blasts that were firing at him. His heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn't keep this up. He headed for the door.

The attacker had incredible aim. Even at the speed Frank was moving, the attacker caught him in the back with a laser blast. Robert Frank screamed and fell to the ground. He couldn't move his legs. He looked up and saw the creature floating towards him.

"Who are you?" Frank asked. "Why are you doing this?"

"I am doing what I must," the creature said with no emotion, "and you must die."

The attacker reached down for the former Whizzer and snapped his neck.

He looked over the old records. He felt that the killer was someone from the past. Some old enemy out for revenge, not against any one hero of that old days but against all of them. He needed to find a likely suspect. Someone who was around back then and is still around now. Someone who fires laser blasts. Someone strong enough to break though a wall and still silent and stealthy enough to get the drop on the Whizzer. Someone who could cause a human heart to burst. There couldn't be too many people who fit that description. Cap searched through the files with determination. It seemed like an eternity ago that he and Dr. Mid-Nite made these files. Another life.

He reached over and turned on the radio.

Namor had received a signal, one he hadn't heard in many a year. The JSA emergency signal. It was been transmitted under the sea and picked up by the advanced receivers of the Atlantean communications network. The Atlantean technicians had brought the news of the mysterious signal to their King's attention. Namor recognized the signal and told his people that he'd be gone for a day or so. Leaving his loyal aid Vashti in charge, Namor headed for the surface.

As he approached the coast, he saw someone hovering in the air, apparently waiting for him. The strange being was humanoid in shape. He was mostly green except for his face which was red. He had golden boots, gloves, belt, trunks and cloak. On his chest was a gold diamond emblem. On his forehead was a crystal of some sort.

Namor looked at him curiously and tried to go around him. But the creature moved to block his path. Namor hovered, studying the being. The creature stared at him with no emotion.

"Who are you?" Namor asked. "What do you want?"

The being just stared coldly.

"Be warned," Namor said. "You are risking the ire of Namor the Second, the true Sub-Mariner! My wrath is the stuff of nightmares! Move aside!"

"You will not pass," the being said.

"How dare you!" Namor roared. "This is intolerable!" Namor realized that this creature had obviously been waiting for him. But how did he know Namor would be coming? Had he intercepted the JSA signal? Or worse, had he gotten hold of the old JSA frequency and sent this message as bait for Namor? And then placed himself between the source of the signal and the approximate position of Atlantis to await Namor's arrival. Whatever the reason, Namor knew that this was an enemy. He lunged forward.

"Defend yourself, fool!" Namor roared.

To his amazement, Namor past right through his foe. Namor looked back. "What are you? An illusion? A hologram?"

"I am the Vision," the being said, "and I must kill you." Namor saw the gem on the Vision's head glow and suddenly a beam of solar energy shot out striking Namor. Namor convulsed in pain from the heat, and fell into the water.

The Vision looked down, without reaction. He waited patiently to see if Namor would re-emerge from the sea. After a few seconds, Namor did just that with a vengeance!

"For the honor of Atlantis, I will destroy you," Namor yelled, streaking like a missile at the Vision.

"You will lose," The Vision said. "You will die."

"I do not fear death! I do not fear anything! I am the greatest warrior of the seven seas! I am the king of glorious Atlantis! I fight for the honor of my people! Imperious Rex!"

Namor evaded the laser bursts of the Vision. At least for a little while. One of them finally hit the mark. Namor gritted his teeth from the pain but kept going, ignoring the burns. He reached his foe. He swung mighty blows at the Vision but his fists past harmlessly though. "Coward!" Namor yelled.

The Vision reached forward and placed his hand through Namor's chest and into his heart. Then the Vision returned his hand to solid form . . . inside Namor's heart!

Namor screamed. He had never felt such pain. His chest felt like it was on fire. He felt like his heart was about to explode.

"And now, you die!" the Vision said.

Namor screamed. He felt like his heart was about to explode. The being called the Vision had used it's power to become unsolid to reach through Namor's chest and then to solidify his hand inside Namor's heart. Namor was in unbelievable agony. He kept screaming for thirty seconds. Then he sagged and went silent. He didn't move.

The Vision removed his hand and watched emotionlessly as Namor fell into the sea.

After a few minutes, Namor's incredible recuperative powers, combined with the soothing embrace of the ocean, brought him back to consciousness. He was still weak but also too proud to back down from a fight. He shot up to the surface, full of fury and thoughts of revenge. But his foe was gone. Namor knew that his foe must have come from the world of the surface men. Namor headed there to find this "Vision"!

"Where is he?!" Namor asked angrily. "Where is the Vision?!"

"The Vision?" Cap asked. "The one who helped us back in World War Two?"

"No!" Namor growled, looking around for any sign of his quarry. "This one is different. Powerful and emotionless. His power didn't seem to be of magical origin like our old ally. This one seemed more science powered."

"Are you all right?" Cap asked.

"The creature did it's best but still I stand, and I hunger for revenge!" Namor bellowed. "Do you know something of this ‘Vision', Captain?"

Cap nodded and related the story of the murders of the four aged heroes. " . . . And so we believe that this ‘Vision' has found the identities of many of the World War Two heroes and is systematically killing us off. You would have been victim number five."

"We will find this monster together, Captain," Namor said. "And then the Sub-Mariner will see that he pays the price!"

His dark Fey, Smudge, warned him that someone was coming. The Shade wondered if this had anything to do with Dr. Doom. Curious, the Shade decided not to put up a fight to stop them from entering. He ordered Smudge to let them in.

Soon, the little winged creature called Smudge had directed Captain America and King Namor to the Shade's study, where the Shade was sitting calmly in a big, comfy chair.

"Welcome to my home, Gentlemen," The Shade said. "Please sit. Would you like some tea?"

"We did not come for tea!" Namor snapped.

"No doubt," The Shade said. "Still, it's polite to offer."

Cap signaled for Namor to be calm. Cap sat. Namor reluctantly sat, too.

"Congratulations on finding me," The Shade said. "Whom did you ask for directions? Ted Knight or Jay Garrick?"

"Jay," Cap said.

"Ahhh. Dear old Jay," The Shade said. "The Flash was quite a foe. I respected him. I can't say I think much of this new prat who's wearing the colors. The young git you've let into the Avengers League. Jay Garrick should sue him."

"We're not here to talk about the new Flash or the old Flash," Cap said. "We need some information."

"And I'm supposed to give it to you, am I?" The Shade asked. "Why should I want to do that?"

Namor rose to his feet. "Because if you do not, I shall force the knowledge out of you!"

"Dear, oh dear," The Shade said. "I imagine I should be quite frightened at the moment. Strange that I am not. Perhaps if you threaten me again I shall be more scared the second time. Perhaps not."

Namor started to move forward, but Cap blocked his path. "Namor, please. Let me handle this."

Namor sneered but stepped back. Cap turned his attention to the Shade. "I understand you knew the Jester."

"Charles Lane, yes," The Shade said. "Good man."

"We've learned that he was killed," Cap said. "He, Wildcat, Dr. Mid-Nite and the Whizzer. All killed by a creature calling himself the Vision."

"I wasn't aware of this," The Shade said. "I . . . owed Charles a favor. And I respected Dr. Mid-Nite. There are so few classy, intellectual men in your line of work. Too many grunting macho men. Like our Atlantean friend here."

Namor rose again. "I will take no insults from you!"

The Shade only smiled. Cap continued, trying to pull the conversation away from the subject of Namor. "Will you help us or not?"

"I believe I shall," The Shade said. "In memory of two good men. And as I said, I owe Charles Lane a service. What do you want to know?"

The CrossBreed members had aged and been replaced by a new generation of religious protectors. But Toro hadn't aged all that much. Having received his power from the Demi-god son of Vulcan, Toro also received a gift of longevity. He would live for hundreds of years. And so had not changed all that much in the last sixty years. Physically, he looked to be in his twenties.

Toro was praying in his chamber when some movement caught his attention. He turned to see the Vision. Toro rose to his feet. He noticed that the Chamber door was still bolted. How had this creature entered? "Hello, brother. I am Toro. Can I be of some assistance?"

The Vision was silent for a moment, studying Toro as if he recognized him. Finally, the Vision spoke."You can die." The Vision said, firing a laser from his gem. The lazer hit Toro, knocking him back. But although the blast was painful, Toro's body was designed to absorb heat. And a lazer was merely concentrated heat. Toro got back up. "Flame on!"

Toro burst into Flame and began to fly around the chamber. "Are you a demon, creature?" Toro asked. "Whatever you are, you'll find the Human Torch of the CrossBreed no victim!"

At the sound of the words ‘Human Torch', the Vision hesitated. But then he fired again. Toro evaded the blast, and retaliated by throwing a fireball at the Vision. The Vision de-solidified his body and the fireball past harmlessly through. The Vision fired again and his laser-beam hit the mark. Toro was stunned. The Vision then increased his molecular density, the same way he had earlier decreased it to become unsolid. Now, the Vision became as dense and hard as a diamond. He gave a backhand slap to the stunned Toro and sent him reeling. The Vision stood over the semi-conscious Toro and was about to put his hand inside Toro's chest, to explode his heart. He got a close look at Toro's face. The Vision hesitated, staring at Toro.

At that moment, the chamber door burst open and the six members of the CrossBreed entered. Noah, the eldest and the Abbott of the monastery, held up his staff. "Evil one! Begone!" He concentrated all his will, and the others joined in, adding their will power to his. Suddenly a wind kicked up. The Vision increased his molecular density to it's heaviest. But this was no ordinary wind. The Vision felt as if something powerful had grabbed him. Before he knew what was happening, he was thrown through the outside wall with tremendous force. And he was still being dragged away. He was almost a half mile away before he was free of the force that was dragging him. He debated going back to finish the job but logic told him that he was not prepared to deal with these newcomers, and it was probably best that he put off the death of Toro until a later date. Besides. there was something about Toro that made the Vision feel . . . conflicted.

After Jay hung up, he went to see Alan Scott--once known as the Sentinel--and discussed the situation. Alan convinced Jay to go home and let the younger, stronger Cap deal with it. Namor was all the help Cap needed, he reasoned. Jay agreed and left. But no sooner was he gone than did Alan Scott put on his power ring. He knew Jay wasn't up to a battle, and didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him to stay behind. Alan began to re-charge the ring with the power of the rock that contained the energy of the Starheart. Alan spoke his old oath.

"I shall shine my light over the darkness. For the dark things cannot stand the light of Justice!"

Putting on his old costume, the Sentinel used the power of his ring to send out a call. A call reaching all over the world, aimed at certain people whose assistance the Sentinel wanted. But would they respond?

The Shade had told them about a recently formed group called the Collective, which was buying a lot of technical equipment off the black market, and hiring a lot of henchmen from the Taskmaster. Also, they had asked the Shade if he wanted to join, because his knowledge of the "old time heroes" would be of great help. The Shade had turned them down.

Now, Cap and Namor had snuck in the back door and, concealed by a pile of crates and barrels, spied on the proceedings. The being called the Vision was there. Along with five elderly men and a group of young, disinterested men who were obviously the hired lackeys that the Shade mentioned. And there was one other man. Cap didn't recognize him. He was slightly pudgy, with shaggy, scraggly hair. He wore a purple jumpsuit. He had the wide-eyed stare of a crazy man. The five old men were arguing with the shaggy haired man. Cap recognized the old men. They had changed a lot over the years, but it was definitely them. Isbisa, the Reaper, the Junkman, the Blue Bullet, and the Gambler. All mediocre, second rate villains of the past. Sixty years past. What were they up to? And who was the other guy?

"Your brilliant creation failed again!" Isbisa shouted at the shaggy haired man.

"That's twice now!" The Junkman added.

"Those are not good odds," The Gambler said.

"We're paying you good money for this!" The Reaper remarked angrily.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" The Blue Bullet demanded to know.

The shaggy haired scientist seemed bored by the whole conversation. "Your outbursts were not unexpected. And must I remind you again that when we made our deal, I informed you that there was an 11.7 percent chance that one or more of the intended victims would survive their encounters with the Vision due to unforeseen circumstances. The Vision had performed perfectly in four out of six encounters. And now with the proper reprogramming, he will succeed where he failed before. I will see that he does not make the same mistakes twice. Within 8.5 hours, Toro and the Sub-Mariner will join Wildcat and the others in the grave. And after that, all the other surviving heroes of the second world war will be dead within fifteen days."

Namor could tolerate no more. Before Cap could stop him, he leaped out from behind the crates and charged at the Collective. "Villains! Your vile deeds are at an end! Face the unrivaled wrath of Namor the Second, the mighty Sub-Mariner, warrior King of Atlantis!"

Cap sighed and followed Namor into battle.

Isbisa pointed at the heroes. "Vision! Attack! Kill!"

The Vision stepped in front of the Collective protectively. "You will not pass. I must destroy you."

"I shall deal with the Vision!" Namor shouted. "You can have the rest, Captain."

Cap nodded. Namor swung at the Vision and once again, his fist went through. Then the Vision became diamond-hard and punched Namor, sending him ten feet across the room. Then he used his gem laser-beams on the Atlantean. And this time, unlike in the earlier encounter, Namor didn't have the healing power of the sea to help his regain his strength. Namor tried to move toward the vision but the beams kept knocking him down, dehydrating him, weakening him.

Captain America tore through the army of lackeys like a tornado. They were all well trained by the Taskmaster, but this was Captain America they were dealing with. Shield in hand, he knocked the henchmen around like ragdolls.

The shaggy haired scientist watched the battle calmly. He grabbed a small metallic object. He waited until Captain America's back was turned towards him and pointed the metal object. An electric stun ray was emitted and hit Cap in the back of the head. Cap staggered, stunned. Then he was buried under a pile of henchmen.

John Britton, formerly of the RAF, also known as the Iron Ace, was the last to arrive. His metal body made him a bit slow and also made it necessary for him to find less public ways of travel. Back in WWI, the Iron Ace had been one of the Air Aces, an elite group of fighter pilots. He retired after that war but was pressed back into service in WWII. After an accident left his body ruined, the great doctor Clark Savage built him a mechanical body.

He looked around. What the bloody hell is this, some sort of WWII reunion? he wondered. He noted that everyone present was very well preserved for veterans of the big one!

Aquaman was there, and Atlanteans had very long lifespans.

Queen Hippolyta, the former Wonder Woman was there also. Supposedly, she was immortal and so hadn't changed a bit.

Hourman, who he had long ago learned was Rex "Tick-Tock" Tyler, the pharmaceutical mogul, had come as well. It was probably the chemical formula which gave him his "Hour of Power" which slowed his aging.

Alan Scott, the Sentinel, had a magic ring which expanded his life.

The Iron Ace wasn't sure who the young guy was. It looked like the Torch's old sidekick. What was his name? Oh yes, Toro. The Iron Ace surmised that Toro had received the gift of a long life somehow, also.

The Sentinel addressed the group. "Thank you all for coming on such sort notice. I'm sorry to disrupt your lives this way, but we have a problem which concerns all of us."

The Sentinel explained the deaths of Wildcat, Dr. Mid-Nite, the Whizzer and the Jester, and the attempted murders of Toro and Namor. "Let Toro tell you what happened to him."

Toro stepped up and told his story. The Iron Ace was very interested in why the Vision had hesitated. They were missing something there. The Sentinel took over the discussion again.

"Those people were friends of ours," Sentinel said. "The rest of the world may have forgotten them but at one time, they were great heroes and the world owes them quite a lot. We can't let their deaths go unavenged. We can't just forget them, as so many others have. And let us not forget that we could be the next targets. Let's not sit around and be victims. We have to show whoever is behind this that the warriors of the past are still a force to be reckoned with, even in a new century. We avenge our own and we can take care of ourselves! There is fight in us yet!"

The Sentinel raised his ring and a green light shined out, like a flame of victory. "This is for everything we once were, and can be again! Are you with me?"

There were no refusals or objections. Everyone was in. Good old Scotty, The Iron Ace thought. He sure knows how to make a speech.

"Two more stupid war heroes that we can cross off our list," Isbisa said.

"We hold a winning hand," The Gambler said.

"What's this all about?" Cap asked, frustrated.

"Should we tell them before they die?" The Blue Bullet asked.

"Why not?" Isbisa said. He kneeled down in front of Captain America.

"You're not laughing at us now, are you Captain?" Isbisa asked. "Well, no one will ever laugh at us again. Back in the 40's, we each had plans that would have made us rich, or famous or whatever our goals were. But you so-called ‘Golden Age' heroes kept getting in our way. You left us with nothing. And now, in our old age, what do we have? Nothing! And no one even remembers us! They remember the Red Skull and the Shade and Vandal Savage. But does anyone remember us? Not many, and the ones who do, think of us as a joke? Why couldn't you big-shot, morally superior, goody good, super-heroes just attend to the war or alien invasions and leave us little guys to deal with the police. We could have handled the police. But no! You had to butt in and ruin our lives. Our futures. You left us with nothing! Recently, I ran into the Gambler and we started getting together to commiserate. Then we formed a sort of ‘poor villains' support group. The five of us got together regularly to gripe about you super-boy scouts and what you did to our lives. Then one day, a miracle happened! The Junk Man still likes to excavate ground and look for junk. It's and old habit. They die hard. One day, he found the remains of the Human Torch."

Cap was shocked. The Human Torch! Cap's old teammate!

Isbisa was still talking. "We don't know how he got to be buried in the dirt under the dump, and we don't care. We took what was left of him and plotted what to do with our discovery. We still have some sources in the underworld and heard about our friend here . . . The Mad Thinker!"

The Shaggy haired man . . . the Mad Thinker . . . smiled slightly, but still seemed generally disinterested.

Isbisa continued. "He used to be one of the government's top brains in the field of robotics and artificial intelligence. He was accused of selling his services for profit and was arrested. He escaped and offered his services on the black market. We knew he was the man for us. He could rebuild the Human Torch and improve him. Make him into a weapon that we could use to avenge ourselves against our oppressors. Our android would kill the golden age heroes."

Cap looked at the Vision, finally comprehending. "Torch? Jim? Is that you?"

The Vision tilted his head to one side, eyeing Cap curiously.

"He's not the Human Torch anymore," Isbisa said. "He's the Vision now. Slayer of heroes! We left him some of his memories so he could remember the identities of the old heroes and track them to their homes. Toro was harder to find since the Torch apparently had no knowledge of his whereabouts, but as I said, we had some sources and were able to find him. This was a well planned out scheme, Captain. It took every cent we could save, borrow or steal to finance this project. To hire the Thinker, the materials we needed, the men. But it's all worthwhile to see your face as the Vision kills you. Vision! Kill!"

The Vision hesitated but then began to squeeze and choke the life out of Namor. Cap struggled to get free. "Jim, don't do it!"

Suddenly, the wall came crashing down and in came the cavalry. The Sentinel, the Iron Ace, Aquaman, Hippolyta, Hourman, and Toro had arrived, and they were angry. The Vision threw Namor to the side and headed for the newcomers. He fired his gem beam at the Sentinel, who's forcefield was more than capable of blocking the Vision's lasers. He fired back. The ray went through the Vision. Sentinel looked curiously and then created a cage around the Vision. The Vision tried to pass through the energy cage but the Sentinel changed the energy frequency and disrupted the Vision. The Vision jerked spasmodically and fell to the ground. He tried to rise but the Sentinel blasted him with another green flame burst.

Meanwhile, Captain America, Aquaman and Hourman had easily taken care of the group of henchmen. Hippolyta bent a metal pipe and tied up the five Collective members. The Iron Ace went after the Mad Thinker. The Thinker used an electro-disrupter to scramble Iron Ace's metal body functions temporarily. By the time his control came back, eight seconds later, the Thinker had escaped through a trap door.

The Vision was knocked down again by the Sentinel. He landed at the feet of Toro. He looked up at the flaming man with recognition. Toro was about to bathe the Vision in flames, but . . .

"Stop!" Cap ordered. "That's Jim! The original Human Torch! He's been rebuilt by these guys!"

Toro looked closely at the Vision. So that's why he hesitated to kill him before. Somewhere deep inside, some of the affection that the Torch had once felt for Toro was still there. "Jim? Is it really you? Do you recognize me? It's Toro?"

The Vision slowly rose. He and Toro looked at each other. The Vision opened his mouth slightly, "T . . . Toro?" The Vision said.

"Yes, it's me," Toro said, smiling. "It's your friend, Toro."

The Vision backed off, confused. "I . . . I must kill . . . "

"You won't kill me," Toro said.

"You're among friends here, Jim," Cap said. "Come back to us."

The Vision looked around, torn. He didn't know what to do. He had to get out of there. He flew out through the roof.

"Should we pursue him?" Hippolyta said, "I was always very fond of the Torch. He and I lived together in the mansion of Aphrodite for years."

"No!" Toro ordered. "Leave this to me."

Toro landed next to him. The Vision jumped up, ready to fight, but something stopped him. "Toro," he said. "Toro, I'm . . . confused."

Toro put his hand on the Vision's shoulder. "I know. I understand. I can help you. Let me take you to the people who helped me. Come to the monastery. You'll find peace there. And maybe I can help you start a new life."

The Vision nodded. Somewhere inside him, a part of him that was the Human Torch, was glad to be reunited with an good friend. Good friends never forget.