Rick Jones sighed as he waited for the Greyhound bus which would take him away from New York City, and into the wilds of Kentucky. He recalled the night before, and his most recent encounter with the Skrull Spymaster...and his warning that so long as Rick didn't have control over his abilities, he was dangerous to himself -- and to others.

"At least in the Blue Mountains the most I can endanger is a couple of squirrels" he mumbled, sipping at his Fresca. With luck, he'd discover what he was now -- part human, part Kree, and all confused, and before other Kree, the Federal Agents searching for him, or anyone else could catch up to him.

Moon Knight stares down into the alleyway, watching over a couple of small children playing. Around him in the neighborhood are robbers, thugs, rapists, con men, gangsters....threats which the Moon Knight feels comfortable handling, improving the quality of life in the same place he operated in his previous life. He glances at the stump at the end of his arm; he can feel it tingle, feel the moon's life-giving energy slowly regrow it. His Avengers communications link remains at his apartment, hidden in a hold-out cache behind the kitchen sink; his latest adventure with them has made him pensive. Defending the planet from an alien invasion, and the nuclear threat of a mad Norse god... Moon Knight shook his head. All too much, too fast. Give him a good old-fashioned mugger, or rapist, or...the flash of steel under a street light grabbed his attention, echoed by a scream. As he launched himself towards the action, he thought "This is what I'm meant to do - making a real difference for real people."

Thor sits in his apartment, a case of Becharts Mead sitting on his kitchen table, ignored. In the center of the floor, resting on its mallet head, is mjollnir, which Thor and his compatriots have succeeded in moving to his apartment. His hands are out-stretched, and a blue nimbus plays in the air between his fingertips and his old friend.

The Black Knight tosses another beer can into the corner onto a large pile of remainders. The next soap opera was about to begin...

Jarvis brought in the tray of tea and set it on the table. The current Baron Zemo doesn't even look up from his newspaper, so engrossed in the cartoon pages has he become. As he sips his tea (made perfectly, as usual), he hopes that his technical staff will be able to include some of the Kree technologies in the next version of his armor, before he goes out again.