"Every trial endured and weathered in the right spirit makes a soul nobler and stronger than it was before." — Unknown
Eve flew back from the funeral feeling drained.
The service had been emotionally exhausting—watching Olga break down, seeing the caskets lowered into the ocean, hearing Nolan's speech. She needed to decompress, to process everything.
The Teen Team hideout seemed like the perfect place for that.
Eve descended through the hatch, her pink energy fading as she touched down in the main area. The place was quiet—most of the team was probably still at the funeral or heading home.
She headed toward the locker room, planning to take a long shower and change into something more comfortable than her funeral clothes.
The bathroom door opened just as she reached it.
Steam billowed out, thick and warm, obscuring the room beyond. Dupli-Kate stepped through, wearing a towel and looking somewhat flushed.
"Eve?" Kate's eyes went wide. "I thought you were at the funeral."
"I was." Eve frowned slightly, noticing Kate's expression—guilty? Nervous? "I'd say you should've been there, but it was pretty bleak. Red Rush's girlfriend had a complete meltdown, and—"
Kate suddenly gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
"You okay?" Eve asked, concerned.
"Hiccups," Kate said quickly. Too quickly.
"Hmm." Eve's frown deepened. Something felt off. "Anything happening? Is Rex around?" She raised her voice slightly. "Rex?"
"Eve, hang on a sec—" Kate moved to block her path.
But Eve was already walking past her toward the shower room, her instincts screaming that something was wrong.
The sound of running water. Steam everywhere.
And then: a male voice. Moaning.
Eve's heart dropped into her stomach.
She flew forward faster, pushing through the steam, and saw—
Rex. In the shower. Not alone.
Another Dupli-Kate was with him, water streaming over both of them, their bodies pressed together.
"You piece of shit!" Eve's scream echoed through the hideout.
"Babe, wait!" Rex scrambled backward, hands raised. "Hang on! I can explain—"
"I knew there was a reason you skipped the funeral!" Eve's hands blazed with pink energy, her power flaring in response to her rage. "Just—just wait a second! Don't even—"
She looked between Rex and the Kate in the shower, then back at the Kate in the towel.
"Oh god. Are you kidding me, Kate?! I can't believe this!" Eve's voice cracked. "I am such an idiot."
The Kate in the towel stepped forward. "Rex said you're dating Invincible now. Said you guys talked about it. That you two were—"
"What?" Eve spun to face her, disbelief and fury warring in her expression.
Rex climbed out of the shower, grabbing a towel. "Oh, don't give me that. It's true! What did you expect, huh? You and Mark have been all over each other since he got back—"
"It's not true!" Eve shouted. "And whatever I expected, I guess I was wrong. About you. About us. About everything."
She turned and flew toward the exit.
"Hold on!" Rex called after her. "This? This doesn't mean shit! They're not even the real Kate!"
Both Kates turned to glare at him.
The one in the towel crossed her arms. "We're all the real Kate. And thanks for lying to me, asshole."
She walked away, heading to the locker room.
The one from the shower just stared at him with disgust before following.
Rex stood there, dripping wet, towel clutched around his waist. "Okay, I... I didn't... That's technically not what I..." He looked around desperately. "But you know what I mean, right?"
Silence.
He was alone.
"Fuck," Rex muttered, and slumped against the wall.
THE PENTAGON - TWO DAYS LATER
Mark walked through the halls of the Pentagon alongside Robot, his black and red Invincible suit drawing curious looks from military personnel and government officials.
The building had been transformed for today's event. An entire section had been cleared out and converted into a massive training facility—reinforced walls, observation areas, equipment stations. All for one purpose: finding the new Guardians of the Globe.
Mark observed the assembled heroes with interest. Some he recognized from the show—Monster Girl, Dupli-Kate, Rex Splode, Black Samson, Shrinking Rae, Bulletproof. Others were new, faces he'd never seen in either the comics or the animated series.
There was a muscular man who looked like he was made of living stone. A woman whose hands crackled with electricity—Throwbolt. A speedster in blue and silver—faster than average but not Red Rush level. A shapeshifter. A guy who appeared to be controlling shadows.
The butterfly effect, Mark thought. My presence here has changed things. Brought in different heroes.
"Thank you for joining me in this," Robot said quietly as they walked. "Your participation lends significant credibility to the new team."
Mark waved him off. "Wouldn't miss this for the world. Besides, Cecil already agreed to my terms. I'll do my best as co-leader."
"Your father was... amenable to your decision?"
Mark's jaw tightened slightly. He remembered that conversation.
TWO DAYS AGO - GRAYSON HOUSEHOLD
"You're joining the Guardians?" Nolan had said, his expression darkening. "Mark, you're better than that. You don't need a team holding you back."
"I want to be part of something bigger than myself," Mark had replied carefully.
"You're a Viltrumite. You're already bigger than anything on this planet." Nolan's voice had grown harder. "Teams are for humans who need others to compensate for their weaknesses. You don't have weaknesses."
"Maybe I don't want to work alone."
"Then you're being foolish."
Mark had met his father's eyes steadily. "You trained me to be a hero. This is what heroes do. They work together. They protect people. Isn't that what you've been doing all these years?"
Nolan had opened his mouth, then closed it. His expression was unreadable.
"I'm joining the team, Dad. With or without your approval."
After a long moment, Nolan had nodded curtly. "Fine. But when they slow you down, when they become a liability... remember that I warned you."
Mark had changed the subject after that, not wanting to push further. But the conversation had left a bad taste in his mouth.
"My father has... reservations," Mark said to Robot. "But he's not stopping me."
"Understood. Shall we begin?"
They walked out onto the observation platform overlooking the main training area. Below, the assembled heroes looked up at them, waiting.
Robot's mechanical voice carried easily across the space, amplified by speakers built into his frame.
"Thank you all for coming here today. The Guardians of the Globe were more than a group of heroes. They were icons. Symbols of hope and protection for this world. Those of you who pass our trials will be among the elite. The best of the best."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"Needless to say, not all of you will be up to the challenge. Those who are will succeed not just through the uniqueness of your abilities, but through the uniqueness of your tactics. Your adaptability. The agility of your minds."
Robot's green eyes swept across the crowd.
"And perhaps most importantly, through the strength of your character and spirit. That is what truly makes a hero."
Applause erupted from the assembled heroes—some genuine, some polite, some clearly skeptical.
Mark stepped forward, and the applause died down.
"That being said," Mark announced, his voice carrying authority, "we're going to do this battle royale style. I'll be the one you're all facing. Robot and I will assess your abilities, your tactics, your teamwork—or lack thereof. This is your chance to prove you belong among the Guardians."
Dead silence.
Then the reactions started.
"Wait, what?" someone called out.
"All of us against one guy?" another voice asked.
Rex Splode's voice rang out clearly across the training area, loud enough for everyone to hear: "We're toast."
laughter rippled through the crowd some of them nervous. A few heroes shuffled uncomfortably.
A large, muscular man stepped forward. He was built like a bodybuilder—massive arms, barrel chest, no shirt, wearing only shorts that showed off his physique. Blond hair, square jaw, and an expression that screamed arrogance.
"What makes you think you're better than us?" Hank demanded, his voice carrying barely hidden contempt. "Just because you are in an emo suit, doesn't mean you can take all of us."
Mark simply smiled behind his mask.
He walked to the edge of the observation platform, looking down at the fifty-foot drop to the training floor below. Then he looked back at Robot, who gave him a small nod.
"Well, to answer your question—" Mark said.
And then he moved.
In less than a second, he'd crossed the platform, grabbed everyone who'd been looking at him—Hank, the stone man, Throwbolt, the speedster, the shapeshifter, Monster Girl, Black Samson, Shrinking Rae, Bulletproof, Rex, Dupli-Kate, Eve, and a dozen others—and threw them through the open space below.
Robot, standing safely to the side, was the only one left on the platform.
The heroes tumbled through the air, shouting in surprise and alarm.
Rex used his explosion powers to arrest his fall, creating controlled blasts that slowed his descent.
Monster Girl—Amanda—transformed mid-air into a towering, light-green, muscular humanoid monster with glowing yellow eyes and a distinctly masculine appearance. Her clothing shifted with the transformation into a simple loincloth with thick bands wrapped around her arms and legs. She landed with an earth-shaking thud, her massive, clawed hands cratering the reinforced floor.
Eve adjusted her trajectory with pink energy constructs, creating a slide that brought her down gently.
Shrinking Rae—a young woman in a tight-fitting green suit with various green accents and a prominent yellow "R" logo on her chest, her hair exposed at the top and glasses still perched on her nose—shrank to insect size and grabbed onto Black Samson as he activated his jetpack, the two of them descending in a controlled manner.
Black Samson himself—a tall, imposing African-American man with a shaved head, wearing a sleek black and gold suit with tribal-inspired patterns—managed the descent with practiced ease, his jetpack humming smoothly.
Bulletproof—a tall, well-built African-American man with tightly braided cornrow black hair, wearing a distinctive yellow and brownish-orange super suit featuring disc-shaped armor plates on his waist, shoulders, and chest, completed by sleek visor glasses—just floated down in shock, his invulnerability keeping him safe.
Throwbolt—wearing a white and yellow costume that crackled with barely contained energy—used her lighting to create a cushion that softened her landing.
The speedster—Blue Rush, a young man in a blue and silver suit with lightning bolt designs—started turning his hands at superspeed making a vortex, trying to use his speed to control his descent.
The others fell in a heap, groaning and cursing as they hit the reinforced floor.
Mark floated down slowly, his shadow stretching across the training area as he descended. The lights behind him created an almost angelic—or demonic, depending on perspective—silhouette.
He touched down lightly in front of them, hands clasped behind his back, and smiled.
"...It's because I'm Invincible."
The heroes scrambled to their feet, some faster than others. Mark could see the calculations happening in their eyes—assessing, strategizing, recognizing the threat.
Hank was the first to recover, his pride clearly wounded. "You think you're hot shit because you can fly and throw people around? Let's see how you handle a real fight!"
He charged forward, fists raised.
Mark didn't move.
Hank's punch came at his face with considerable force—the man clearly had enhanced strength, probably somewhere in the 10-ton range based on his muscle mass and speed.
Mark caught the fist one-handed.
Hank's eyes widened. He tried to pull back, but Mark's grip was like a vice.
"Lesson one," Mark said conversationally. "Know your opponent's capabilities before engaging."
He squeezed.
Hank screamed as his knuckles ground together, the bones creaking under pressure.
Mark released him and gave him a gentle push—gentle by Mark's standards—that sent Hank flying backward twenty feet to crash into the stone man, who'd been charging up behind him.
"Lesson two," Mark continued, addressing the entire group. "Coordinate your attacks. One-on-one challenges against a superior opponent are suicide."
Monster Girl roared and lunged, her massive, clawed form moving with surprising speed despite her towering size.
Mark sidestepped her attack, grabbed her by one of the thick bands around her arm, and spun her in a circle before releasing her into a group of heroes who'd been trying to flank him. They went down like bowling pins.
"Lesson three: Use your environment and your teammates. Monster Girl's mass could have been used to create cover for ranged attackers. Instead, she charged alone and became a weapon against her own team."
Throwbolt unleashed a massive electrical blast from both hands—easily a million volts.
Mark stood there and let it hit him.
The electricity crackled across his suit, his body, his skin. It tickled.
He looked at Throwbolt, who'd gone pale.
"Lesson four: Know when you're outmatched. Your power is impressive against some superhuman. Against someone with my durability?" He shook his head. "You're just lighting up the room."
Blue Rush tried next—blurring into motion, moving fast enough that he probably thought he was invisible to normal perception.
He wasn't. Not to Mark.
Mark tracked him easily, his enhanced Viltrumite perception making the speedster look like he was moving through molasses. When Blue Rush threw a punch, Mark caught his wrist mid-strike.
The speedster's momentum stopped instantly, and he yelped in pain as his shoulder nearly dislocated from the sudden stop.
"Lesson five," Mark said, still holding Blue Rush's wrist. "Speed is meaningless if your opponent can track you. And momentum becomes your enemy if someone can stop you cold."
He released the speedster, who stumbled away clutching his shoulder.
Black Samson, Shrinking Rae, and Bulletproof attacked together—finally showing some coordination.
Samson came in high with his plasma weapons from his gauntlets. Rae shrank down and went for Mark's eyes. Bulletproof charged straight at Mark's center mass, his yellow and orange suit gleaming.
Better. Much better.
Mark dodged Samson's plasma bolts with minimal movement, plucked Rae out of the air when she got close to his face—holding her gently between two fingers, careful not to crush her tiny form—and caught Bulletproof's charge with one hand on the hero's chest.
"Lesson six: Coordination is good. But you need to understand your opponent's capabilities. I can perceive threats at multiple scales simultaneously. I can react faster than any of you can attack. And I can output more force than all of you combined."
He set Rae down gently on the ground and gave Bulletproof a light push that sent him sliding backward, his boots scraping across the floor.
Dupli-Kate multiplied, creating twenty copies that swarmed Mark from all angles.
Rex started setting off explosions in a pattern, trying to herd Mark into a kill zone.
Eve created constructs—barriers and projectiles—trying to limit Mark's movement options.
Now they were thinking like a team.
Well, they were on a team before
Mark smiled and decided to up the difficulty.
He flew straight up, taking the fight vertical. The Kate's who could jump high enough, tried to follow, but Mark was already moving, weaving between Rex's thrown explosions with casual ease.
He came down in the middle of the Kate swarm and spun, his arms extended. The shockwave from his rotation sent all twenty copies flying in different directions.
Rex tried to tag him with a point-blank explosion.
Mark caught Rex's wrist before he could make contact and squeezed just hard enough to make the point. "Explosions require contact. What happens if I don't let you touch anything?"
Rex's face went pale.
Mark released him and turned to Eve, who'd been building a massive construct—a giant hammer made of pink energy.
She swung it at him with all the force she could muster.
Mark caught it.
The construct shattered against his palm like glass.
"Molecular manipulation is impressive," Mark said. "But matter is matter. Enough force breaks anything."
Eve floated there, breathing a bit, staring at him with a mix of frustration and awe.
Mark surveyed the training area. Heroes were scattered everywhere—groaning, nursing injuries, trying to get back up.
"Let's try this again," he announced. "But this time, I want you to think like heroes. Not warriors. Not fighters. Heroes."
He flew back to the observation platform where Robot waited.
"What's the difference?" Hank shouted from below, still clutching his injured hand.
Mark looked down at them.
"Warriors think about defeating their enemy. Fighters think about landing hits. Heroes think about protecting people. So, here's your real test: Robot, release the civilians."
Robot activated a control panel, and suddenly holographic civilians appeared throughout the training area—men, women, children, all programmed to act like panicked people in danger.
"Your objective isn't to beat me," Mark said. "It's to protect them. From me. While I'm actively trying to 'harm' them. You have five minutes. Begin."
And he dove.
What followed was chaos, but purposeful chaos.
Mark moved through the training area like a force of nature, targeting the holographic civilians. The heroes had to intercept him, block him, distract him—all while making sure they didn't hurt the "civilians" themselves.
And slowly, grudgingly, they started to work together.
Dupli-Kate created a network of bodies that could relay information and provide coverage. Rex used his explosions more carefully, creating barriers instead of weapons. Eve built protective structures and evacuation routes. Throwbolt used her electricity to create light shows that distracted Mark's attention. Blue Rush became a messenger, coordinating between groups with his super-speed.
Monster Girl acted as a mobile wall, her massive body shielding civilians. Black Samson and Bulletproof worked together to physically move civilians to safety, Bulletproofs invulnerability allowing him to shield people while Samson provided aerial support. Shrinking Rae scouted from small sizes, providing intelligence on Mark's movements.
They weren't winning. Not even close.
But they were learning.
Mark was impressed despite himself. These were people who'd been training individually, thrust together with no preparation, and they were adapting. Finding synergies. Covering each other's weaknesses.
When the timer ran out, Mark stopped attacking and flew back to the observation platform.
The heroes below were exhausted, battered, and some were nursing serious bruises. But they were standing. And more importantly, they'd saved most of the holographic civilians.
Robot stepped forward to the edge of the observation platform, his mechanical voice carrying clearly across the training area.
"After careful evaluation and analysis," Robot announced, "we have made our selections for the new Guardians of the Globe."
The training area went silent. Every hero stood or sat at attention, waiting.
"The following individuals will report for duty tomorrow at 0800: Rex Splode. Dupli-Kate. Atom Eve. Invincible. Black Samson. Throwbolt. Monster Girl. Bulletproof. Blue Rush. Shrinking Rae."
Cheers erupted from some. Others looked disappointed or resigned.
"Those whose names were called—congratulations," Robot continued. "You have earned your place among Earth's greatest defenders. Those who were not selected—thank you for your participation. Your efforts today were appreciated, and there may be future opportunities."
Mark looked down at the new team. His team.
Rex and Dupli-Kate, despite their personal drama. Eve, brilliant and powerful. Black Samson experienced and reliable. Throw bolt with her electrical powers. Monster Girl with her incredible strength. Bulletproof, nearly invincible. Blue Rush, their new speedster. Shrinking Rae, perfect for reconnaissance.
And himself, the co-leader alongside Robot.
This is it, Mark thought. The new Guardians. Not the same as the originals, but maybe that's a good thing. We can build something different. Something better.
We have to. Because the threats are coming.
Eve floated up to the observation platform, landing beside Mark. She still looked exhausted, her suit showing signs of wear from the training, but there was a light in her eyes.
"We did it," she said softly. "We're Guardians now."
"Yeah," Mark replied, looking down at their new teammates. "We are."
Robot approached them. "This is only the beginning. Tomorrow we begin formal training protocols. Team coordination exercises. Emergency response simulations. You will be pushed harder than you've ever been pushed before."
"Bring it on," Rex said with a grin.
Rex walked over to the medical station, pointedly not looking at either Kate or Eve. Dupli-Kate—all her copies merged back into one—stood with her arms crossed, glaring daggers at Rex's back. The team dynamics were going to be... complicated.
That's a problem for tomorrow, Mark decided. Tonight, we celebrate. Tomorrow, we start preparing for what's coming.
Black Samson flew up to join them on the platform, his jetpack humming. "Invincible, Robot—just wanted to say it's an honor. I worked with the original Guardians a few times. They were... they were the best. I hope we can live up to their legacy."
"We will," Robot said with certainty. "We must."
Mark nodded. "We've got the talent. We've got the power. Now we just need to become a team. A real team."
"Then let's get to work," Black Samson said.
As the new Guardians gathered together for the first time—some excited, some nervous, some still nursing grudges—Mark felt a weight settle on his shoulders.
I know what's coming, he thought. I know the threats. The enemies. The disasters. And I have to keep these people alive through all of it.
No pressure.
But looking at his teammates—flawed, human (mostly), but willing to risk everything to protect others—Mark felt something else too.
Hope.
"Alright, Guardians," Mark called out. "Tomorrow, 0800, we start for real. Get some rest. You're going to need it."
As the team dispersed, heading to medical stations or locker rooms, Mark stayed on the platform with Robot.
"You did well today," Robot said. "Your performance was... impressive."
"Thanks. You did good too. This team—it's solid. Better than I expected."
"The interpersonal dynamics will require attention," Robot observed. "Rex, Eve, and Dupli-Kate have unresolved issues."
"Yeah, I noticed. We'll deal with it."
"And your father?"
Mark's expression hardened slightly. "What about him?"
"He does not approve of your participation on this team."
"He doesn't have to approve. This is my choice."
Robot's green eyes studied him. "You are... different from what I expected, Mark. Older. Harder. Thirteen years in the Flaxan dimension changed you."
"Yeah. It did."
"Good. We will need that strength. That experience. What we face in the coming months..." Robot trailed off. "It will test us all."
You have no idea, Mark thought. But we'll be ready. We have to be.
"Come on," Mark said. "Let's go review the footage. See what we can learn about our new team."
As they walked back into the observation room, Mark took one last look at the training area below.
The new Guardians of the Globe.