The rain came down in sheets across Cumberland, Kentucky. Sam Guthrie stood by the window, silently counting the drops as they struck the glass pane. He wore a white dress shirt and black slacks, with black suspenders. The suit jacket lay on his bed and a black tie was around his neck.

"Sam?"

The door to his room opened and Sam looked away from the window just for a moment to see the older woman who stepped in. Lucinda Guthrie, his mother. She wore a simple black dress and when she saw him standing by the window, she sighed.

"Samuel Zachary Guthrie, why are you just standin’ there?!"

"Just thinkin’, that’s all," he replied.

"Your tie’s not even done properly. Come here."

Sam turned to face her and Lucinda buttoned his collar. She proceeded to put the tie into a Windsor knot. Her hands moved quickly and expertly, and Sam felt like he was a little boy again, when she would tie it for him before church on Sundays.

"Y’know, your father was never able to tie his own ties," she said. "That man hated to dress up. But Lord knows he cleaned up nice. If it weren’t for my naggin’, he’d have probably worn a clip-on to our weddin’."

"Mama, now that Daddy’s gone, what are we gonna do?" he asked.

"Don’t you worry about that, we’ll get on just fine," she replied. "Y’know, we never had much money to begin with, but we made do. We’ll continue to do the same."

"I wanna help."

"That’s sweet of you to say, but you’ve got that scholarship to worry about," said Lucinda. She pulled the tie tight against his collar. "There, perfect."

Sam stretched his neck out a bit and tugged on the collar.

"Stop fussing with it. Now c’mon, I need you t’ help me get your brothers and sisters ready." She kissed him on the cheek and walked towards the door.

"Mama…"

"What is it, baby?" she asked.

"I’m gonna turn down the scholarship."

Lucinda Guthrie turned to face her eldest son, and there was a look of shock on her face.

"No you’re not," she said. "With that scholarship, you can be anything, like a doctor or a lawyer. You can make somethin’ of yourself."

"You can’t handle it by yourself," he said. "Look… I’ve already spoken t’ the foreman. He said he’d be more than happy t’ let me have Daddy’s old job."

"No," she said. "I won’t have you working yourself to death in those mines like your father did."

"I gotta," said Sam. "Mama, you know you can’t do this on your own. We need the money an’ family comes first. You and Daddy sacrificed a lot for us. Now it’s my turn to sacrifice something for you."

"I don’t want you throwing away your future."

"Just for a little bit, then," said Sam. "Until we save up some money. That scholarship will still be there when I’m ready."

Lucinda walked over to the window. She sighed and lowered her head. The only sound that filled the room was that of the rain striking the glass. Sam looked at his mother and saw her eyes beginning to tear up. She quickly hid her face and wiped them away.

"Y’know it’s funny that it rains today," she said. "God’s probably up there, cryin’ tears of joy since your father is with him now."

Sam stepped up to his mother and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Her arms instantly encircled him and she held onto him tightly. She broke away a moment later, sniffling just slightly.

"Now you go help your brothers and sisters get ready," said Lucinda. She wiped the remaining tears away. "Last thing we need is to be late for your father’s funeral. So get goin’, Sam."

"Sam!"

"You hear me? I said go on."

"Sam!"

Samuel Guthrie nodded his head and left his mother standing alone in his room. He closed the door behind him and walked down the short hallway to his brothers’ room. He opened the door and saw them there.

"Hey Sam."

"Sam!"

Eyelids snapped up, revealing blue orbs. Sam Guthrie found himself staring into the face of a beautiful blonde woman who wore a black domino mask over her eyes. She was dressed in a tight-fitting black costume that clung to her curves and had a large lightning bolt on the front of it.

"Good, you’re awake," she said.

"Carol?" he asked. He pulled himself up to a sitting position. His head throbbed with pain and he rubbed the back of it. "Must’ve been dreamin’…"

"How convenient."

Sam looked past Carol to see a third figure sitting in the small pod with them. He had short, black hair and was dressed in a sort of wetsuit. He sat against the wall, one leg straight the other bent at the knee. There was arrogance present in his voice, but Sam had already come to accept that from Namor, the monarch of Atlantis.

"You hit your head pretty hard when the escape pod ejected," said Carol.

"I’m assumin’ we won, then, right?" asked Sam.

"Ohmphalos detonated, but I think we all got to escape pods," replied Carol. "I doubt Nick will be too happy about losing his space station."

"I couldn’t care less about one of Fury’s toys breaking," said Namor. "We have more pressing matters to worry about."

"What do you mean?" asked Sam.

Avengers Mansion

"Any luck?"

"Nothing yet, Cap." Iron Man sat at the massive computer, his faceplate lifted up to reveal the handsome visage of Tony Stark.

Captain America stood behind him, shield strapped to his back, and his mask around his neck. He leaned on the back of Stark’s chair. By his side was the android known as the Vision, who just hovered and stared at the screen in silence.

"Nice little set-up y’ got here, Rogers." Leaning against the wall with a cigar gripped tightly between his fingers was Colonel Nick Fury, the Director of SHIELD. "Two teams of Avengers—one here, one on the west coast—both are missin’ in action."

"Don’t start, Fury," said Tony.

"Just what the hell happened with the west coast team anyway?" asked Fury.

"Unfortunately, we don’t know," replied Captain America. "I dispatched Wanda and Hank to form a west coast branch at the request of the mayor of Los Angeles. Shortly after departing, we lost contact with the team. We would have tried to figure out the source, but we got embroiled in the Luminstan conflict and then, obviously, came Noh-Varr’s attack."

"And now the Avengers West Compound is a smokin’ crater," said Fury. "Perfect."

"Fury, do us all a favor and shut up," said Tony. "I can do without the snide comments, thanks. I’m a little busy trying to track down our teammates."

"Oh yeah?" Fury took a drag on his cigar as he approached Tony. "And while you’re busy doin’ that, I’ve got every known supervillain on the planet runnin’ loose. Plus, we’ve got intel that a new Masters of Evil is poppin’ up."

"Fury, I am seriously not in the mood for this…" muttered Tony.

"Then how about you do your job an’ hop inside that tin can of yours?"

"Y’know, we wouldn’t even be in this situation if your boys at the Cube were able to properly detain an intergalactic terrorist," said Tony. "You have ways of getting in touch with the Shi’ar Empire, Fury. So why didn’t you guys just deport him?"

"I wasn’t in charge of SHIELD when this little bastard popped up," said Fury. "The Cube break-out was the first time I ever heard his name."

"That whole temporary death excuse really works out nicely, doesn’t it?" muttered Tony.

"Y’know, that’s pretty funny comin’ from you, Stark. Weren’t you the one who went nuts an’ almost killed Jan?"

Tony nearly jumped to his feet at that remark, but Captain America leapt between the two men.

"That’s enough, both of you." He looked at Fury. "Nick, we’ve already dispatched all available reserve Avengers to contain the situation as best as possible. Right now, four of our teammates are missing, not to mention the entire west coast team. So you’ll forgive us if I think Tony’s efforts are best directed to finding them."

"Captain, could I please speak with you for a moment?" Up until that point, the Vision had remained silent during the entire exchange.

Captain America looked from Tony to Fury. "I hope you two can play nice while I’m gone. Or do I need to get Jarvis down here to babysit?"

Fury just huffed in reply and went back to chomping his cigar. Tony returned his attentions to locating the signals of their missing teammates.

Once the two of them left the communications room, Captain America faced the Vision, who hovered a few inches above the ground. "What’s on your mind?"

"I believe we are overlooking a possible lead to the whereabouts of our missing friends," said the Vision.

"What would that be?"

"Rick Jones and Captain Marvel are bonded at the molecular level. While one is present in this world, the other inhabits the Microverse and the two share a psychic bond with each other. If we were to reach Rick in the Microverse, we could potentially locate Captain Marvel in this world."

"That’s actually not a bad idea," said Captain America. "I’ll see if I can get in touch with Reed Richards. If we’re going to go into the Microverse, we’ll need his help to get us there. But Genis wasn’t with the others in the escape pod, was he?"

"No, he was not," said the Vision. "I have worked out a possible solution to that problem as well. If our missing teammates are lost in space, then it’s possible they’re out of reach of the satellite signals for their ID cards. But what if we boosted the signal?"

"Get with Tony on that, I want you two to do whatever you can to see about boosting the signal," said Captain America. "Meanwhile, I’ll try to get in touch with Reed."

"As you wish," said the Vision. He began to hover back towards the communications room.

"Vision."

"Yes?"

"I know how you feel about her and it’s okay to be concerned for her well-being," said Captain America.

"I appreciate the gesture Captain, but my concern for Wanda is purely a concern for a fellow teammate," replied the Vision.

"I wasn’t talking about Wanda."

The Vision stopped in his tracks and thought on Captain America’s response. He put aside his thoughts and concerns for the moment, however, and continued into the communications room.

Well… this is certainly an interesting experience. I’m out here, floating in space. I can’t see anything. The sun seems so distant. I feel like I’m lost, trapped inside my own body. A prisoner.

Yeah, you’re not the only one.

Who are you?

Who do you think I am, Marv? It’s me, Rick.

Rick? Who’s Rick? Who’s Marv for that matter?

Oh for the love of… don’t tell me you’ve got amnesia…

Hmm… I suppose that’s a possibility.

Y’know, with that whole Cosmic Awareness thing, you’d think you could avoid these kinds of pitfalls. After all, you were the only one who knew Kang and Loki were responsible for that illusion.

Yeah, you would think that, wouldn’t you? By the way, what’s Cosmic Awareness? And who are Kang and Loki?

Oh nevermind… Look, we have to get back to Earth.

So we really are in space, huh? And I’m talking to myself. Well… not really, because you can’t hear anything in space, but you know what I mean. So how am I not dying of lack of oxygen right now?

Because the Nega-Bands allow you to survive in space without protection.

That explains a lot. Thank you, mysterious crazy voice. Hey, does this mean I’m a schizo?

Ugh… this is not my day...

"The pod was damaged in the explosion," said Carol. "Pilot controls, navigation systems, even communications are all offline. We’re out of satellite range, so our ID cards aren’t transmitting either."

"So basically we’re lost," said Sam.

"Basically," said Carol.

"It gets better," said Namor. "Go on, tell him."

"Tell me what?" asked Sam.

"Even though our systems are offline, it looks like the thrusters were still active for a time," replied Carol. "We’re drifting towards a destination, but probably not the one we want."

"What’s that?" asked Sam.

"The sun."