Hi everyone!

Don't worry I haven't forgotten Code Prime - Shattered Glass, its just that this has been floating around in my head for awhile and I'm a fan of Michael Weyer's Infinity Crisis and I thought it be a nice touch to tie in to that. Now you don't have to have read Infinity Crisis to enjoy this story (though if you're a Marvel and DC fan you definitely should) but it would provide some context to some events from the past that are mentioned. With that being said lets begin.


Earth-1898

The personal bedroom inside a famous chocolate factory.

Floating, one can be peaceful in this place, forever floating in in the empty sky.

"Mr. Bucket!"

There's that noise again, anyways back to tranquility. If he can somehow bring people-

"Mr. Bucket! Nothing's working, quick get the juice!

Juice? Suddenly the peaceful sky was replaced by a violent sea that tasted absolutely awful. One moment he closed his eyes drowning in the foul sea, the next Charlie Bucket was sitting up on his bed, covered in disgusting Snozzcumber juice. Why is it that the most healthy food in the world (so healthy that it was possible you could eat it all your life without any ill effects and malnutrition) tricked your brain so that it tasted like the most putrid, rotten, nasty, indigestible thing a person could think of?

"Oh, my head." Charlie was not feeling good. "What happened?" Charlie was being tended to by various doll size men with golden hair while his American accented assistant watched on.

"I told you not to drink that Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster." James Henry Trotter shock his head, if this is how Mr. Bucket acted intoxicated he dreaded to think about dealing with a drunk Willy Wonka.

"The Guide said it was the Best Drink in Existence, it might have made for a good candy flavor. Did I do anything ... odd?"


"Brothers!" A shirtless Charlie called out from the top of the chocolate waterfall, completely unaware that no one was listening to him. "FOR TOO LONG WE HAD TO SUFFERED UNDER THE TYRANNY OF WILLY WONKA AND HIS LITTLE MINION!" Charlie spoke like he was a mad scientist that walked straight out of a black and white 50s b-movie. "THIS MOCKERY OF NATURE SERVE AS A SYMBOL OF OUR OPPRESSION, WELL NO MORE! THIS WILL MAKE THEM BLEED!"

He reached to his crotch and-

*ZIP*

"Oh, there you are. We were-MR. BUCKET, NO!"


"Not important!" For now at least it was best to save his employer the embarrassment of trying to "liberate" the Oompa Loompas by running around in their village shouting "FREEDOM!" over and over again while naked and that was probably the most tame. "Look at this." James handed Charlie a IPad. Looking over the data on the pad, Charlie grew more and more awake as if caffeine was directly injected in his system.

"Sir?" James look at Charlie with worry. "The juice please." James handed him a plastic bottle filled with the repulsive liquid, looking away as his employer messily chugged the entire bottle, small droplets dripped down his face.

"When did this happened?"

"Last night, we've been trying wake you up for hours." Charlie immediately jumped off his bed and crouched down to one of the Oompa Loompa's eye level. "Prepare the Elevator! I'd hate to impose this on you but it is not an exaggeration that it might be a matter of life and death." Charlie's faithful worker saluted and went on his way. "Have a quick breakfast, as soon as its ready we lea - what's wrong?"

James was covering his eyes with a hand. "What do you think?" Charlie felt a slight chill in his, ahem, lower area. His cheeks turned red, "My apologies, you didn't have to see that." James swiftly left the room while Charlie walked to his closet to get dressed. Please let this be no more than random spikes and not an omen for something terrible.


The next day

In a Chines restaurant, somewhere in England, one of the patrons was happy enjoying his meal. He looked normal enough but if one were to take a good look at his eyes they would notice a lack of an iris, just a large pupil. He had plans, have a nice dinner, go out to a bar, find a nice girl and, well, I think you know the rest.

Unfortunately it looks like he'll have to put those plans on hold, so engrossed in his meal he didn't notice a middle age woman enter the restaurant, walk up to his table, and take a seat in the chair opposite to him.

"Mr. Hyde," the woman tried to get his attention. Hyde stopped eating for a moment than quickly went back to his meal, grinning to himself.

The woman took a deep breath, knowing better than to indulge Hyde. "Would you like a repeat of our first meeting."

Hyde dropped his fork with a clang, rolling his eyes and letting out an annoyed groan. He looked up form his meal and gave the woman an large, sinister smile.

"Hello Teachy," Hyde greeted with his thick Irish accent.

Dr. Zoe Van Helsing started rubbing the sides of her head, feeling a headache coming on. Unlike the other members of their little "club" Zoey did not have the pleasure of only dealing with Hyde during their "business trips" together, but its not like she didn't know what she was getting into when she hired Dr. Tom Jackman for the Harker Foundation and with her years of experience fighting monsters, she was more than prepared to handle Mr. Hyde should he get out of hand, but God he was annoying.

"If your wondering, Dr. Jackman's wife said you'd be at your favorite restaurant."

Hyde let out a humorless chuckle, "I'm surprised she ended up staying".

"Speaking from experience, being dead can make one reevaluate their life," Zoey quietly stated with an uncomfortable look on her face, even Hyde's smile slightly faded at that statement.

Six months, Six months ago about half of the population of the planet turned into dust and a few hours later everyone came back. James, John, and Zoe all got dusted, barley able to recall where exactly they went. As for the two that survived, Sherlock locked himself in his room, jacking up on cocaine and refusing to come out even when the whole thing was over (the drugs made him think that a restored John, Mary, and Basil were not real), and Tom was ready to put himself out of his misery after he watched his family die. If not for the intervention of Hyde, Daddies brains would be all over the floor.

Then the dusted came back. Questions were asked, governments accused each other, the dead that were killed in accidents were mourned, and much like the Tripod War, the world moved on.

"So," Hyde began, his playful yet devious demeanor returning, "question of the day, to what do I owe this pleasure? Are you feeling lonely tonight" Hyde looked at Van Helsing flirtatiously.

Van Helsing resisted the urge to gag, "it's M," she began. "He has called upon our services again"

"Uhhhh," Hyde let out a frustrated wine, not really wanting to deviate from his plans. Well, if he wanted the authorities to continue to "look the other way" he'll have to play solider for now.

"What is it this time?" Hyde didn't make any effort to hide his distaste.


Three weeks ago

Somewhere in the countryside

Hank Morgan was putting the finishing touches on the machine he was ordered to build, it wouldn't be that unusual if he knew exactly what it did as well as the nature of the "man" overlooking his work.

"No, no, NO, you're doing it wrong!" a cranky voice shouted behind him. Coming to Hank's view the owner of the voice turned out to be, of all things, an anthropomorphic orange tabby cat, wearing a striped sweater, who's full height barely reached up to his knees.

A few years ago Hank would have been disbelieving of his eyes but thanks to some personal experience, as well as some world events in the last ten years that have made him reluctantly expand his suspension of disbelief, a talking cat seems normal besides he and the other engineers were briefed on the Moreau incident that led to a new kind of ethnic group, that and Petey came from Piqua, Ohio AKA Weirdtown, USA.

Petey was in a less than good mood. "How have you messed up this time Morgan, what did you ... do ...to... the...uh huh?" Petey complained only to look over the measuring equipment he had Morgan assembled and saw that all of his instructions were filled to a T.

"Well?" Hank asked, a smug, knowing look on his face.

Petey was dumbfounded, everything was just right. The four towers were the right height, the were set up in the right possession forming a small squire, the wires were connected correctly, the satellite dishes were pointed in the right direction, everything, just everything was exactly how it should be.

"..."

"What was that?" Hank leaned towards Petey, a wide smile on his face.

"Good work," Petey begrudgingly complimented, "*DEEP BREATH* We're ready to begin."

Stepping back from Hank, Petey snapped his fingers to get the other engineers and scientists attentions. "Alright everyone get to your posts because we're ready to begin, try not to screw this up!"

Petey and Hank walked out of the danger zone and into the back of a large van. They then joined a younger looking man with nerdy glasses, behind an assortment of computer monitors.

"Everyone ready?" Hank asked, wanting to make sure.

"Looks that way," the young man replied, looking at his phone and seeing the various confirmation texts from the engineers and scientists from their respective vans.

"Well then," Petey started typing a few commands on his personal homemade keyboard, looking at the camera feed on his own monitor, showing a soon-to-be-not empty space. "Prepare to give out the orders Q, lets fire these babies up."


"He won't say anything until we get there," Zoe deadpanned, "like always".

Hyde rolled his eyes, new M same ways of manipulation, so annoying and disappointing.

"Sherlock and John are waiting in the car," Van Helsing continued, "James is waiting for us at Whitehall. We're all waiting for you so please don't bother wasting our time" Zoe pulled back on her jacket, revealing just one of the many custom made firearms she owns.

Hyde looked down at his plate, there was still some food that has yet to be eaten.

Hyde looked back up at Zoe, "Can't I finish my food first Teachy? I'll promise I'll behave at class." Hyde said, though his eyes had a pleading look in them, the corners of his lips were turned upwards.

Van Helsing got up from her chair, she needs to avoid a public scene as much as possible.

"You have five minutes," she compromised and promptly left the restaurant.

The childish man giggled to himself, he always liked to push people's buttons but the woman he called Teachy, after their long history working together (more like Daddy and him work under her and if he steps out of line she'll make sure to put him in a world of sweet sweet pain) something about her reactions when she was pissed off both scarred and exited him.


Q looked at the energy readings that the equipment sent to his computer. 'Wow,' he thought to himself 'this isn't what we expected'.

As a privet man who doesn't bother socializing, Q wasn't as badly effected by the dusting as other people were. Oh, he was certainly shocked and terrified and he did shed tears when his cats were among the dusted but other that that Q didn't have anyone to morn. The man wasn't really close to any of his colleges at MI6, he liked them just fine, but there wasn't anyone he could call friend and as for his family, the less said about them the better.

Hank Morgan observed the people working around him, their computers showing information he couldn't begin to understand. His own computer showed only the camera feeds outside and a few controls for the equipment and tools he helped build. When the dusting happened he was extremely lucky as his own wife and daughter were spared. However he grew increasingly paranoid, barricading his house and letting no one come in or out, threatening to shoot anyone outside of his family if they did so. He quite frightened H.C and even sweet oblivious Sandy could tell something was wrong with her husband.

'This better explain what went on,' Hank held a grim expression on his face, 'I won't let another Camelot happen'.

Petey's frown deepened as he processed the information shown on his computer, 'Disappointing'.

The energy readings were so so close to the ones he recorded when everyone dusted and came back but it still wasn't the same so it looks like he won't get direct answers anytime soon. It was just another day with his son staying over for the week when the Dusting hit. He can still remember Li'l Petey's terrified face when he slowly crumbled away, that image will undoubtedly haunt him for years. After the dusting came and went, Petey worked endlessly day and night creating a machine that detected very faint traces of energy in the spot where his son vanished and came back.

Sending his findings to some of the top minds in the world (of various professions) and they soon formed a network known as 'The Finders' their mission: to find the source of the dusting.

When one of their members (The Quartermaster of MI6's Q branch) detected a particularity large reading in the countryside, the Finders manged to get funding from both the American and British governments for an experiment and well, here they are.

"Well," Hank began standing up from his seat, "We've come this far, seems like shame to stop now."

"I'm not too sure," Q shared his concerns, "All we have is a theory. This isn't even the exact same reading as the other areas, suppose something goes wrong".

"I see what you mean," Petey rubbed his forehead out of frustration, "but we can't come back to our governments with nothing and besides the patterns aren't too different, maybe it won't be that dissimilar from our theories."

The trio looked at each other in contemplation, finally Hank spoke up, "How about we take a vote with the others?"

"Fine!"

"That's a sound idea."


As soon as Hyde left the restaurant, Zoe was there waiting for him an unamused look on her face. An ambulance was behind her at the other side of the road. Its paramedics were carting off a heavily injured man from a back alley.

"What?" Hyde questioned, "You don't think I had something to do with that?"

No part of Zoe moved an inch.

"Ok," Hyde chuckled, "you caught me, but you should know that he was a mugger, he was practically asking for it. Don't worry he'll live if the doctors do their job." And that much was true, the mugger would live but he'll probably wish Hyde had killed him that night.

Zoe turned around and walked back to her car, getting back to business "If you don't want to be bored then let Jackman drive."

"Ughhhh." Hyde groaned, seeing the logic in her words. Around him street and headlights flickered on and off as Hyde slowly closed his eyes.

When the eyes opened it wasn't the black of Hyde but the green of Dr. Tom Jackman. He was older, shorter, hair more messy and looking a bit confused. "What?" Tom looked around him, he took notice of Zoe Van Helsing.

"Zoe?" Tom was about to ask Zoe something before Hyde mentally sent the memory of their conversation in the restaurant earlier. "Oh."

"Come on," Zoe urged Tom to fallow her, grinning as she did so. Tom was much more nicer and easier to be around, no doubt about it.

"You know I can still hear him in my head." Tom complained as he walked up to the back passenger seat of Zoe's car. "And we thank you for your sacrifice," Zoe snarked as she stepped into the drivers seat.

Dr. John Watson was already in the back seat when Tom stepped in and he had to scoot over to make room for Tom letting out a quick hello. John put down the newspaper he was reading, he was on an article that talked about a "Jay Gatsby" being murdered.

"He's asking about your "boyfriend"," Tom's face told them Hyde won't stop.

"It's an interesting subject" Sherlock Holmes spoke up from the front passenger seat.

"He's not my boyfriend!" Van Helsing started the car and drove off.

"If he wasn't a homicidal murderer, you could have fooled me." John shrugged.

Despite their teasing they do bring up a worrying feeling. Dracula hasn't been seen since that whole business with his Other League. One moment Dracula, Ms Utterson, Dr Alphonse Moreau, and Sebastian Moran were being transported to a maximum security prison, the next they and the transport vehicle were gone, and absolutely no trace of them was left. Its like all signs of them are gone, even back then when she didn't see Dracula for months he always made sure she found his "left overs" to let her know he was still around but now: nothing. Sherlock thinks that either he and his minions are planning something big (which Zoe would believe if the count was still leaving his markings everywhere) or something took them. If that something were to take Dracula away, they have to have someway of restraining or controlling him and she'd admit, something that powerful terrified her, she really hoped that wasn't the case. Zoe had enough to worry about without wondering where Dracula was, after all other vampires were still roaming around the country, idiots thinking they could work with or control demons, so called witches always on the hunt for little children, and that wasn't taking in the fact that, yet again, Her Majesties government called upon the serves of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.

Zoe stopped her musings and focused on the road ahead, it was going to be a long drive.


The vote came in, a majority felt they should go through with the experiment. They soon stared up the secondary activation sequence.

What happen next, no one could have expected.


Zoe's car finally made it to the currently temporary headquarters of MI6 Whitehall (the passengers having made small talk with each other during the trip) getting through the necessary security precautions. When they entered the courtyard of the MI6 headquarters there, waiting for them, was the final member of the group, 007 himself, James Bond dressed in one of his usual fancy suits.

"Afternoon," James greeted his colleagues, shaking each of their hands. "How are your families"?

"Thank you for asking," John smiled, "Rosie and Mary are doing fine."

"Me and Claire are doing better," if there was one thing Jackman was grateful to the Dusting for is that it made him and Claire reevaluate their marriage, "my boys ... are still themselves." it was generally agreed that something about Tom's sons, Eddie and Harry, was creepy, not evil or even malicious in any way, just off putting.

"Boring!" Sherlock called out, but everyone knew that deep down he really cared.

All together, side by side, at first glance these were ordinary people but these people posses particular skills and talents that when put together form something extraordinary. They are the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen or simply the League or LXG (because who would be intimidated by legs), a group that the British government formed to investigate and combat threats that are considered "strange" and "unusual". Though not always getting along with each other, they do their job well enough and when the League is gathered a few things were guaranteed: It's gonna be scary, thrilling, a little bit exciting, and when it's over the world will look a little less sane.


The machine was supposed to eliminate a trail that could potentially lead to the origins of the Dusting. Instead a ball of purple lighting started spontaneously generating in the center of the square. At first it was just throwing out a few sparks, but then it rabidly grew to small strikes, much the the confusion and concern of the assembled group.

"I've turned everything but the cameras off!" a panicked Hank called out, "what about your end?"

"Oh, sh**," Q was looking at the message bored. All of his colleagues had the same idea as Hank, "nothing's working!"

"RATS!" in a fit of anger Petey threw his own keyboard on the ground, smashing it. The cat looked over at Hanks computer to check outside with Q soon joining in.

The lighting stopped suddenly and then the ball turned into a swirl of purple clouds that quickly grew in height and with until the swirl was roughly the same size as a small van.

"Wha-," Hank was dumbfounded, "I i-is that ... possible?"

"Morgan," Q began as a matter of factly, "think about what happened over the last few years and define possible, hell, look at who we're in the van with." Honestly although Hank is a brilliant engineer and mechanic he could also be frustratingly skeptical.

The trio continued to look at the camera feed, unsure of what to do. Hank suddenly noticed something in the almost transparent center of the circle. Call him crazy but was that ... a hand?


The League came to M's door where Eve Moneypenny is at her usual possession.

"Afternoon, gentlemen." Eve greeted, not looking up from her work "and lady."

"Thank you," Zoe shook her head, why their bosses kept that old Victorian name is beyond her.

"Monneypenny", 007 looked at Eve a little longer than the others something that Sherlock took notice of. Based on Moneypenny's nail polish, neatly applied makeup, and expensive perfume she had a date soon. Looking at James, Sherlock saw an element of disappointment on his usual stoic face, and a change in his breathing indicated he was interested in more than just another one night stand with Monneypenny which considering this is James Bond was quite surprising.

Suddenly the lamp on Eve's desk and the lights in the room flickered on and off, everyone became alert at Tom. The flickering soon stopped and thankfully Tom was still Tom. "He wants to say hi" Tom said to Moneypenny. Eve just went back to work, not wanting to acknowledge Hyde.

"I know he's a psychopath but he has to know she'll always react the same right?" John asked Tom, "That won't stop him from trying."

M's office door opened and out stepped Bill Tanner. "Afternoon League, M's ready for you."

'Finally', Zoe led the group into the room where behind a sat the newly appointed head of MI6, Mycroft Holmes or M.

"Mycroft" Sherlock was the first to speak up, his brother disapproved.

"I know that in all likelihood you'll not care but, much like my predecessor, when you are on missions you are to refer to me as M or Sir." M stood up form his desk, looking at all of the members of the League. The other members didn't have to be Sherlock to tell that something had spooked him.

"Well now," M began, "you should be informed that this mission is of a very delicate matter." M got out the case files and handed a copy to each person,

"Exactly how delicate are we talking about?" Tom asked.

"It ties into the Dusting." And on that bombshell all of the League, most notably the ones who were victims of the Dusting themselves, grew tense and a bit fighten.

"How much is it connected?" Zoe asked.

"Open the files," the League did so. In the files were some blue prints and several photographs, one depicting an overhead view of the testing area where the Finders performed their experiment, several showing not just the purple cloud swirl from the original experiment but several more swirls in a multitude of locations taken from various angles, and a group photo showing the present Finders a few hours before preforming that fateful experiment. It was this last one that M brought attention to.

"If you haven't noticed, look at what's next to the American's knee."

"Sorry, which one's the American?" even though Tom was looking at M it was James who answered.

"He's the one wearing a stetson." Tom turned his view at Hank Morgan. How did he not realize that? Next to Hank stood Petey doing an obviously fake smile.

"Oh wow," John was surprised at Petey, much to the confusion of Tom, "Did you forget Moreau and that Paddington station sighting?"

"No, it's just that he looks a lot less creepy then that film." Zoe chuckled at that, James found that silently amusing, Tom could here Hyde's laughter, and Sherlock had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. Either way it was a nice little joke that relieved some of the tense atmosphere.

"Getting back to the point," M got everyone attention, "When the Dusting happened this ... feline's son was among..."


"Did any of you see that?" Hank asked his colleagues.

"How can you miss that ... whatever it is," evidently Petey had no idea what Hank was talking about.

Q on the other was more willing to listen, "What do you mean?"

"I've - I thought - nevermind I'm just-" there it was again and this time it stayed long enough for the others to notice it. "What the," Q was confused. The hand came more and more into view soon revealing the outline of a head and the top half of a torso. The trio was astonished, "there's a man in there," Petey spoke up. The hand soon came out of the swirl where the Finders could view in clarity, it was covered in a black glove and the arm having a blue sleeve with a golden cuff. Abruptly the arm was pulled back and it looked like the man was struggling with something no one could see before his outline faded away.

"He's in trouble," Hank spoke up with urgency, "he needs help NOW!"

"Morgan," Q stated quickly, "I understand the situation but how-"

Q was cut off as out of nowhere, Hank pulled out a lasso, kicked open the van doors, and ran outside towards what he now thinks is a portal, Q and Petey fallowing soon after. "Wait," Petey called out, "did you have that rope the whole time?"

As soon as he got to the portal Hank threw one end of the lasso into the portal and waited. I was at this point the other scientist and engineers got out of their vehicles to check out what's going on. Hank then felt a few tugs on his rope and began pulling, unfortunately something stronger than him pulled back, moving him closer to the portal. "Help," to say that Hank was in need assistance would be an understatement, "I can't do this on my own"! At that Q and Petey went to his aid, grabbing other parts of the lasso, but because Q wasn't very strong and Petey was, well, a cat they weren't much help. The other Finders soon joined in on pulling the lasso and after some struggle they finally pulled the man out landing on the ground face front.

He was breathing hard, wearing a dark blue trench coat. The Finders gathered around the stranger, Hank crouched down and turned the exhausted man around, revealing the fact in addition to the trench coat the man was adorned in a golden, eagle shaped armor plate on his chest and he had a strong chinstrap beard. "Hey," Hank got the man's attention, "you alright?" The man sat up and looked at the people (and cat, whose appearance he strangely took in stride) around him, a scene of relief growing. "Humans," he muttered to himself, "are you with S.T.E.A.M.?" suddenly his relief was was gone in a moment.

*CHA-CHINK*

"Appendages in the air," everyone turned around and saw a small green creature, about the same size as a child, with large ruby eyes and short antennae on top of his head, carrying an advanced looking rifle. "You are all know prisoners of the glorious Irken Empire." Spider like mechanical limbs pop out of the Irken's back, using them to make himself look taller.

"If you all want to live do as he says." Although the man appeared to be surrendering a quick glance at Hank's hip told the mechanic all he needed to know. "If you all corporate we might not experiment on you," as the Irken look over his "prisoners" Hank discreetly reached to his hip and got an old fashioned cowboy style revolver with the Irken non the wiser. By the time the Irken realized what Hank was doing it was too late. *BANG* The bullet went through the side of the Irken's torso. The alien quickly turned his attention at Hank, seemingly no bothered by the gaping hole on his side, he took aim with his rifle. *CLICK* Nothing. *CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK* The Irken looked at his gun then back at Hank, back at his gun then back at Hank again. The human was grinning side to side and the Irken's own grin was sheepish. "How about we pretend that didn't happened and continue where we were, deal?" The only response the Irken got was a gun aimed between his eyes, "aw man."

Hank proceeded to empty his gun into his enemy's rather large forehead. The Irken stumbled forward then backward before collapsing. "Did you know his gun was not loaded?" Hank asked, the stranger nodded in conformation. "If it was loaded you'd hear it powering up." The adrenaline rush the stranger felt started to fade.

"Excuse me," Q spoke up. "You asked if we were with ... steam? I think? What exactly is that?" The stranger's exhaustion meant he didn't register Q's questions. "Ge-get ... Liberty.."

"Somebody call an ambulance he's gonna-" Too late, the man collapsed right on top of a unlucky cat. "GET HIM OFF ME!" Some of the Finders picked up the fallen man, one called the paramedics, while the others went back to their work stations to summarize and report their findings. Petey was left on the ground, more angry than ever. He picked himself up and stormed to Q and Hank. He had a few choice words about bringing a gun to an experiment. As for the alien body: it was completely abandoned.


"After the man loss conscience he was escorted to a nearby medical facility. He's quite alright, only suffering from minor injuries and exhaustion. When he woke up he had quite the story to tell." For the last half hour M has going over the events surrounding the finder's experiment, the League would be in various states of disbelief if not for the Dusting and the fact that M wouldn't joke about this.

"What happened to the body?" Zoe was very interested in the chance to do a dissection.

"Its gone," M noted grimly,

"What do you mean gone?" 007 didn't like the possibilities.

"We lost contact with the agent that was assigned to bring it in for study. When we eventually found him all that remained was his charred corpse and a car with a rather large hole, there was no sign of the alien body."

This did note bode well. "Someone stole it?" Tom asked. "No," M began, "the creature got up, murdered the agent, ripped open the car and walked away."

James Bond raised an eyebrow, "Sir?"

"Once you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true," M explained. "Other than the Finders no one but the agent and myself knew about this and the car was ripped open from the inside."

"Just having a bit of trouble believing in all of this." James admitted to M.

"Come now 007, surely after your experiences a person surviving being shot multiple times isn't unprecedented." James had to nod at that statement while Sherlock huffed with annoyance, what ever happened to good old rationality and order.

"Returning to the subject of our man, like I already said his claims are quite fantastical. Apparently he was a prisoner of more of the same people as our visitor. They're called the Irken and there are three things about them: they're loud, dedicated to conquest, and, barring a few exceptions, very idiotic or at most have average intelligence, however it seems that they are even more advanced and just as destructive as the ones from the Tripod War." Considering that to this day no one could figure out how the Tripods worked, that was saying something.

"There's something else." Sherlock knowingly stated, M nodded in confirmation.

"Since the original experiment there have been several spikes in energy all around the world. They're quick and fleeting, located in areas with little to no areas by the time we get there every thing was normal, no Irkens or portals. That all changed last night, as you can all see several of them have opened up, we can't figure out how to close them."

"We're gonna have another invasion?!" Zoe barley kept it together in the inside. Humanity only won (a stretch to say even that) the Tripod War because of the Earth's bacteria, from the sound of things either the Irkens have no ill effect from the Earthly microorganisms or they found a way around that issue.

"Everyone's in agreement, given our man's description of the potential invaders and the last time our planet was visited its best that we prepare before it starts." M moved from his desk and made a "follow me" gesture. "I have a car waiting for us. It's best if you heard the rest from the man himself."

The League soon began following M out of Whitehall. "Wait," John called out, "What's the man's name? I mean we can't keep calling him the man." His teammates nodded in agreement. M took a deep breath, "The closest thing we have to his identity is the least fantastic about him that will stretch even your suspension of disbelief. Apparently he is non other than the 16th president of the United States, Abraham Lincoln."

At that all of the League stopped in their tracks, looking at M for some (very unlikely sign) he was joking. Well, can't say he was wrong.


A few things of note:

I'm altering continuity to feutered series a bit. The version of James Bond I'm using is the reboot Daniel Crag version, all of his films are cannon expect for parts of Spectre, though I do plan on bringing some elements from that film. Jekyll happened the same way as in the show, ditto for Sherlock except for series 4 so Mary's still alive, no Eurus and Sherlock was called back to England because M (Judi Dench) wanted him for the LXG (sorry for all those liked series 4, it just wasn't for me). As for Dracula 2020 the events in the 19th century happened closer to the original novel, only with Steven Moffat's Dracula and at the end it turns out Dracula could only die by starving, so the group settled for chaining him up in his coffin and dropping him in the ocean. Unfortunately a modern day diver found the coffin and now Dracula's loose in the modern world, fighting Abraham Van Helsing's decedent Zoe (also from Dracula 2020).

Unlike the main comic I'm only gonna use (outside of Invader Zim) characters that had their origins in books (of all kind) or adaptations of books.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen have been gathered together four previous times:

- The first was when a mad man named Emilio Largo was collecting weapons and genetic experiments to construct two giant war planes and start World War III all to seemingly profit off of selling weapons. Dr. Zoe Van Helsing was recruited to lead and organize, MI6's best agent (though don't let him know that) James Bond as the fighter and spy, Sherlock Holmes as the brains and detective, Dr. John Watson as the medic and strait man (he wasn't originally part of the team but Sherlock insisted) and lastly Dr. Tom Jackman/Hyde who was in France with his family, hiding from Klien and Utterson. Despite a few difficulties and squabbles their were ultimately effective together and managed to defeat Largo. As he laid dying Largo revealed that money was not his main goal (it was just a nice bonus) before expiring.

I'll reveal the other three missions as we go along.

Literary references:

Snozzcumbers originated from the BFG by Roald Dahl.

The Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster and the guide that informed Charlie about it is from Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series.

Basil is Basil of Baker Street series by Eve Titus.

The Tripod war is a reference to War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells.

The murder of Jay Gatsby is depicted in The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Moreau is from The Island of Dr. Moreau by H.G. Wells.

The Paddington station sighting is from the Paddington Bear series by Michael Bond.

Please like and review. Constructive criticism is welcomed, I'm not sure if I got the Holmes brothers right.