《He-Thing and the Cabal of the Cosmos》The Plains of Misery *REVISED*
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He-Thing
rode his trusty steed,
War Dog,
across
the Plains of Misery.
Seeded by blood,
and the ancient ruins
of forgotten galaxies,
the abyss of grains
undulated before our
titanic hero
like a woman’s hair.
A grim dawn of storms
fomented on the horizon ahead.
They had departed
the blessedly divine
Castle Brave Bone
33 days ago,
embarking on their latest quest:
To save the Omniverse
from the machinations of the
Cabal of the Cosmos,
and its evil, undead cyborg agent,
Skullatroid.
He-Thing was huge
for a man,
with bulbous biceps,
and other rippling coils
of arrogant muscle
packed into his body
like dust into a rock.
He wore nothing
but his pink skin,
and a loin cloth,
handed down from his father,
which held back
the sheer force of his manhood
through the Gods’ wills alone.
His black hair
was cut in a cascading mullet
with softness
rivaling the finest threads
of the Denailopax Coast.
On He-Thing’s back
hung his legendary sword,
the Nebule Blade,
which he had used to cut down
many opponents and villains,
and which he trusted
far more
than any man
or faithless deity.
Forged from ancient nebulae,
the weapon could be wielded
only by him,
for he was He-Thing —
there were none who compared.
He-Thing spotted
a shimmering in the sky
like a black feather
dancing in the wind,
and he peered to see what it was.
Lightning flashed;
but he knew what he had seen.
He reached down War Dog's flank,
and pulled open a saddlebag,
letting his fingers linger over
the sandpaper-like Olodian leather
for the briefest sentimental moment.
He pulled his spyglass out,
its dense, delicate weight
mere air in his strong hands,
as he lifted it to his eye.
He-Thing saw that the flash
had not been lightning,
but the shimmer
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of a great, winged robot,
flying across the smoldering sky.
Forged out of elaborate kaleidoscopes
of nonlinear metals,
and
casting trapezoidal
arcs of light
that shone like dark water
in the darkest dreams,
the giant, winged robot
was an awesome machine,
the likes of which
He-Thing had never witnessed before
in all his immortal years
in the Omniverse.
The great, winged robot
glided upon the wind,
floating upon its vast wings
and propelled menacingly
by fearsome rockets.
Gazing at it, He-Thing sensed a deep
question,
and could feel
the river
BENEATH the river.
Was this monstrosity their enemy?
Or some simple beast?
He lowered the spyglass and sighed.
Time, as always, would tell.
to be continued...
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