"Bloody hell," said W as he got to his feet, wiping away the blood that was trickling down his forehead and into his good eye. He had no idea of how long he'd been down, but from the people who were fleeing the scene he knew it couldn't have been that long

The blast had shaken the whole palace of Westminster and alarms were ringing across the board. It had been years since such a vicious attack on the members of parliament and this was completely unexpected. What was more worrying was that this had happened without anyone of the security services knowing.

Inside the Chamber that was the House of Commons, W could hear screaming and he fought his way through the crowds to get in there. They needed help and while his own powers might not be of much use, he certainly knew a bit of field medicine and that certainly would. He opened the door to the Chamber and his eyes went wide with horror.

"What the hell?" he whispered, as he saw hordes of dozens of deformed creatures, ripping in to the establishment. This was no terrorist attack, this was a meta-human nightmare. These things seemed to have wings, talon, breathed fire, were covered in scales and they were all variations on a theme. "Not on my watch," he said as unleashed energy blades from his hands, glowing white-hot and sending disturbances in the air around them by the waves of heat, drying the blood on his head.

The hot-knives flew from his hands, tearing in to the nearest creatures, throwing off the cowering MPs, those who were still alive at any rate.

"Kill him!" demanded one of them, standing in the Speaker's chair. If he'd had his full wits about him, W would have taken a shot at that one first as it was obviously the one in charge and he cursed himself inwardly for his error.

"Yes, my Queen," came an answer, as if to confirm what he had thought and W got ready to defend himself. These things were only mortal after all, and his hot-knives would be more than adequate in dispatching them. The only downside was, there were a lot of them.

Britain flew across the countryside, pushing himself to limits he didn't even know he had. He'd been a champion, the warrior-knight chosen by Merlin for less than a day and there were flashes within him that felt like he'd been doing this forever. There was more to what had happened in his transformation than he knew and he wondered just what they had done to him.

However that was no more than a fleeting though as he passed through the low clouds, feeling the water on his face as he did so and looking down to see the cities, towns and villages below pass him by, as if they were little more than a child's playthings. His thoughts went back to Courtney, the woman he'd left behind so frail, so helpless.

Someone had stolen her skeleton, for whatever arcane purpose and was using her form to attack the seat of British democracy.

It wasn't that Brian liked the people in power, but he didn't dislike them either. It was a strange attitude for someone who worked where he did, but then again, the theory was that he and his department were supposed to be impartial. It wasn't that he was impartial, he just really didn't care. As long as the politicians left him alone and allowed him to get on with his work, then he was fine.

That said, someone attacking them was something he could not condone in any way. These people were the duly elected officials of the country, elected by the people, for the people. Granted it didn't always work that way, but terrorism, enforcing your will by brute force and such were not what the civilised world was about. What he could feel was going on was against everything he believed in, that he had been brought up to believe in.

He knew that his sister had a very different viewpoint, but that was her way of rebelling against it all. Even though she was Brian's twin, she had always lived in his shadow, something of which he had been astutely aware. God alone knew how she would react to see him like this. Now he was on the outskirts of London, and he saw and heard an explosion in the distance.

"Damn," he said, cursing himself for not being fast enough and on he flew.

Kahn smiled as she watched the events in the chamber reflecting on how simple it had been to make her plans come to life. As she had stood there, listening to the speeches about how brave it was of Courtney Ross to come here, so soon after the tragedy that had befallen her, she had stood up and started speaking.

She had thanked the distinguished members for their words of support and then she had spoken about the evils of the world, her impassioned speech based on her own personal experience. Then she had spoken about the bill they had just passed and her words seemed to support it, but were ambiguous enough for people to start and wonder about what she was truly saying.

She had sat down to the cheers and encouragement that came after such a speech, though it was not as vigorous as it might have been. Kahn smiled inwardly when she had heard that, noting that the cheers indicated that the infallible Ms Ross, darling of the political front benches was not the golden girl she appeared to be.

Then James Jaspers, leader of the opposition stood up to address her comments and he used the words she had spoken against her, as Kahn knew he would. She had watched this small man for some time, and she had him marked down as one of future underlings. It would only need a little push for the man was almost corrupt enough to be a demon himself. The pure beauty of it was that nobody knew and the man knew nobody knew and it gave the arrogant confidence to keep on doing what he was doing.

Murder, bribery, extortion, these were just the tip of the iceberg where this man was concerned. He was no criminal mastermind, but he was a genius nonetheless.

He had finished with a great flurry and sat down to better cheers than she had gotten, which was all part of the game, and the Speaker had invited 'Ms Ross' to address the points. As she stood, she looked up to the public viewing gallery, where her minions were. Not only that, but she had people outside as well. Scanning for mutant terrorists were one thing, scanning for demonic entities birthed when the world was young was something else.

She had denounced Jaspers, heartily and mightily. She had used the language of the Commons, but her words were direct insults to him and they all knew it, but could do little but jeer. Then, as she glanced about ensuring the television cameras were on her and she shifted to her true demon form, which unleashed a mystical explosion and shook, affecting everyone but the demons who leapt down from where they were, the signal given at last to attack.

Claws slashed, gouging open jugular veins in the first salvo, hitting anybody they could get within reach of. Blood was drunk, flesh feasted upon, brains devoured in a ferocious frenzy as the old order took apart the new with an incredible frenzy. Khan leapt across the floor and grabbed Jaspers by the throat.

"Such corruption," she said, as Jaspers cringed upon staring at her true visage and though there was something about her, the sheer dangerousness, the primordial power that he could feel at her very touch. "I have chosen well," she said, her eyes burning in to his soul, lying his very being bare before her.

"What do you want from me?" he whimpered.

"Your soul," she said and kissed him, a pincer like arm coming from her oesophagus reaching in to his mouth and down his throat. He tried to scream as he felt her soul and his merge together. As he screamed, her felt her tongue rake across his, little bards drawing blood as it tore away the flesh, exposing the sensitive nerves and he involuntarily bit her tongue. His bit cut in to her tongue, drawing her blood, which mingled and dripped down the sides of his throat, while she flicked her tongue back, drinking the shared potion.

Then she released him and he fell to the floor and she leapt to the chair occupied by the deceased body of the speaker and she kicked it to the floor. Then she felt several of her demons die, swiftly and in pain as holes were burned through them. She saw a man standing there, a scruffy overcoat covering his body and a patch over his right eye. The shambolic demeanour he portrayed belied the power within him, the equal balance of his soul of good and evil. He was more than he appeared and more than he even knew.

"Kill him!" she demanded of her people who turned to face the intruder, a wildcard in their plans.

"Yes, my Queen," came the answer, and she watched as several of her warriors leapt at him and wondered how long the man would last, hoping that he would at least give better sport than the fat and lazy fools that they currently dined upon.

To the man's credit he took out several of his attackers in his opening defence, but she could see in his eyes that he knew he was woefully outnumbered and that it would only be a matter of time before he succumbed to them. He had caused them pain and cost them several warriors, so she decided that he would die slowly and painfully. First she would scrape out his other eye, leaving him blind, helpless and not knowing what would happen to him. Then she'd make him eat the eye and she could see his teeth clamping down on the smooth jelly that made up the eyeball, and could hear him retch in realisation as soon as he tasted the salty texture of it.

Then she felt the presence, getting closer and closer. She looked up in time to see a figure come crashing through the roof. A warrior knight, wearing the garb of one not seen in centuries, and, though she could not see it, she knew that the Sword would be by his side and that the plan was about to come to a halt.

"Merlin," she murmured.

Only he could have done this, bending the sacred rules as much as she had done. Before she knew that the elder gods would give him some leeway, allowing him to present a case to them in respect of the Denouement, but by that time this would all be over. By making this move, she knew the elder gods would turn their backs on them both, making the odds even and the outcome unknown. A sense of fear and anticipation rolled through her. The indeterminate nature of her fate appealed to the chaotic side of her nature.

"Let the dice fall as they may," she said, confronting the man and readying herself for the showdown, but first she needed to see how this warrior knight fought. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but the powers of the Sword protected him.

Brian decided that he didn't have time for the niceties of doorways, and he raised his shoulder slightly as he aimed for the roof of the palace. There was already some structural damage to it and he easily ploughed through the ages old masonry, with nothing more than minimal discomfort, and swiftly assessed the situation, coming to a virtual hover as he looked about.

He was sickened by the sheer scale of the death and destruction that was in the room, and he ploughed in to the demons, taking out his ire and fury on them, unleashing a devastating combination of punches, kicks and throws as he went on the offensive.

His natural impulses combined with the magic energies within his body and the subconscious awareness of his new-found might, turning him in to something more than he was. There was a clinical coldness to his use of the power, however it was like a bloodlust that was upon him and the yin and yang of the situation came together and there was a realisation about it all that suddenly dawned.

He was enjoying it, and the shock of the revelation stopped him in his tracks, and a moment's hesitation was all they needed to attack on the break. However they had taken on the new threat and ignored the old as W, bloodied and torn though he was, renewed his own attack. The demons realised their error and divided their forces, but this gave Britain chance to draw upon Excalibur, pulling the blade from out of the sheath and rendering it visible.

This one action had two main effects. The first was to renew Brian's fighting spirit and give him a second wind; the second was to make the enemy recoil from the sight of the blade. The potency of its presence was not lost on either of the men and Brian stepped forth towards them, as they cringed back, their gaze transfixed on the blade, their acts of violence abated by the almost inaubible song of the Sword. . All except one, who walked towards him.

"That's the ringleader, kid," called W, who was as intrigued by the warrior knight as the demon queen was. He knew of all the mutants and hero wannabes in the United Kingdom, but this man was not on his list. He was a paradox, his skills and style were faultless but there was something green about him and W hoped he had enough about him face this creature of evil.

"Restore Courtney Ross," demanded Britain, both his hands gripping the hilt of Excalibur, holding it out as a sacred talisman, hoping that it would protect him. All of a sudden his instinctive reactions were not as fluid and he realised that this time he was on his own. "Restore her, now."

"You," breathed Khan as she realised whom the warrior knight was. "How is this possible, I killed you, I felt you die using the piece I claimed when I feasted on your soul. It is not possible to come back from what was done!"

"Let's just say I got better," said Brian.

"Then I shall kill you for a second time," she said and in her hands manifested a sword of her own, complete with a bejewelled handle and its black blade cloaked in a mystic green fire. In Brian there sparked recognition of the sword, of its power and another thing also came to the fore. A primal fear, but not his own, and he knew it came from the powers that he used.

"Begin," he said as the two blades met each other with a mighty clang, sending mystical sparks flying from the point of contact. No mark was left on the other weapon, but there was a lessening of powers between the two of them. Brian staggered slightly, as did Khan but she reacted faster than he did and brought her sword back to bear on him, but Brian flew out of the way, and pushed himself across the floor, skimming over it on a tiny cushion of air.

"Impressive," said Khan, "you adapt to the powers well."

"I don't believe I have much choice in the matter," said Brian, as he bent his body and made a loop and flew towards her, but Khan was a veteran of many fights and she had slain more than one of the warrior knights. She knew from tasting his soul that this man was not Arthur, and she swatted him with her powerful fists, sending him across the room, separating him from his sword.

"This was easier than I imagined," she said as she walked over to him, as Brian tried to shake off the effects of her blow. She raised her sword above her head, the mystical flames casting down a foreboding shadow upon him. "Merlin was wrong to choose you." The sword came down

"He didn't," said Brian and she stopped in mid stroke, her strength and reflexes stopping the killing blow. "Roma did." Then he kicked out with all his strength, pushing her legs from under her and as she fell he moved out of the way, rolling in the direction of Excalibur, which seemed to fly into his grasp, something he wished he'd known about earlier.

As Khan recovered from her fall, Brian pointed his blade at the back of her neck.

"Kill me," she said, feeling her natural defenses ebb at the touch of the blade on her skin, "and Courtney Ross will never recover."

"Really?" said Brian. "Let's find out," and Khan felt the removal of the metal from her skin and smiled at his foolishness. Then great pain shot through her as the sword stabbed through her back, and there was a cataclysmic explosion of mystical energies, throwing back Brian and he took the sword with him. His powers faded and he was just a man in a strange costume, holding a sword.

Khan stood, in no small amount of pain and looked at him, and Brian's heart skipped a beat. If she were to continue the fight, he was finished.

"You've won this battle, mortal," she said, her voice rasping with the hurt she felt inside. On anything other than a demon that would have been a killing shot. In fact on most demons that would have been a killing shot, but Khan was not most demons. "You have a luck that would do Arthur himself proud, but one day that will run out."

"Courtney?" he said, sounding more confident than he felt.

"Your blasted sword has cancelled the magics," she said, having no reason to lie, when all she wanted to do was tend to her wounds and rebuild her army. With Parliament in disarray the bill hunting down organised crime would slow and her planning could proceed apace. Her prime objective was accomplished and things would return to a relative normal. "She is as she was, with only the scars of memory."

"Then go," said Brian. "Before I change my mind."

"We will meet again, Braddock" she said. "And only one of us will walk away from our next encounter."

"Count on it," said Brian, staring at her, feeling the sword in his grasp. Her own blade vanished from where it lay on the floor and then she flew up and out of the hole in the roof that Brian had made on entering.

Britain looked about. The MPs that had survived had fled the chamber, and the demons had staged a retreat. Only he and W remained in the place.

"So," said W, pulling out a cigarette. "You're Braddock."

"Yes," he said tentatively, worried that this identity issue might have been better kept a secret. "What are you going to do?"

"Oh, I have an idea," he said. "Go get your girlfriend, then come over to the MI building." Brian nodded and focused himself, drawing on reserves of his strength and virtually willing himself to fly. It wasn't easy but he did it, and the longer he did it the easier and faster it became.

It hadn't been a definitive victory, but he'd still won.

Merlin watched the events from Otherworld and sat back in his chair and smiled. It had not gone as well as he had hoped, but it had gone very well, and for his troubles he had a new champion on Earth.

All in all, it couldn't have gone better, for one more the playing field was level and everyone's plans would contine at the same pace. Yes, things had gone very well indeed

"Father!" called Roma as she entered. "Father, the scrolls are restored. The pictorials have returned, and the prophecies are gathering once more. What happened on Earth?"

"Fate," he said, as he closed his eyes. "Fate. Tell me, what does it say of Britain?"

"His future is only written in the hours and days ahead. He and his lover will return to their lives and he will make new alliances and new enemies."

"Interesting," said Merlin, opening one eye and looking at her. "I wonder why it gives so much, yet so little."

"I do not know, Father. I will study the Scrolls and try and decipher the meaning."

"Yes, child," he said. "I'm sure you will."

Brian entered the XL unit in the MI6 offices, where he was given clearance to meet with W. Courtney was recovering, Vixen was in hiding and the United Kingdom was dealing with the aftermath of the tragedy. There were intense mutant tensions in the world, but the question on everyone's lips was who was the masked man who had saved everyone.

Brian wondered if today that question would be answered and what it would mean for himself. He steeled his nerve, knocked on the door and entered.

"Braddock," said W, as he poured himself a scotch. His hands were shaking slightly.

"What's wrong?" asked Brian.

"I was apparently just visited by an alternate version of myself. If there's one thing that does my head in, it's time travel and alternate realities. But never mind, those kind of things are commonplace around here. Now, I've come to a decision about you... what do we call you anyway?"

"Britain," said Brian.

"Yes, well," said W. "Here's the deal. I protect your cover, you do me the odd favour here and there. Plus I'll see what I can do to get you trained in the use of your powers. You're good, but you could be better."

"You want me to join XL?"

"In an advisory role. XL's a sneaky and covert deal, where as you... you're more a figurehead. Country needs stuff like that. So does the world. That's what we're going to make you."

"How?" asked Brian, uncertainly.

"By the launch to the world of Captain Britain. I was going with the Captain until you told me your nom du guerre."

"Do I get a choice?" asked Brian and W shook his head. "Then I guess we have a deal."

"Get ready, world," said W. "For Captain Britain."

Next issue: The newly appointed Captain Britain begins to put his life back together, under the guidence of W!