Hyperboard Sector 4992150.3c

The eyes of Igor Jr. glanced at the old man that sat next to him. He barely recognized him from the younger man that he used to know on the TOMB he was once a member of. He was hardened - severely hardened. His sunken eyes revealed nothing of his struggle, but revealed everything about the fact that he'd had one.

"What is this?" Igor asked, breaking a long silence. The round table that once occupied the cowled men was empty, leaving only the Sovereign and the boy lizard.

"This is the last resistance," Avatar said, looking Igor in the eye. "This is where we make our final stand against the principalities of Hell itself. This is where TOMB fell. This is where the Message Board League failed."

The mage slowly raised himself from his seat, walking quietly to a small corner of the room, pressing his hand to a small scanning device on the wall. As the device scanned his handprint, the entire wall lit up, revealing the most amazing thing Igor had ever seen.

A trophy room.

Of the things that had belonged to Avatar's friends.

The coat of Prometheus.

The steel hand of Bibbo Bibbowski.

Captain Nemo's possessed sword Ladnikia.

The tattered costumes of dozens of heroes, including Shock, Gooz, and Llance.

Igor watched in awe as he saw this. Avatar stood quietly aside, bowing his head to his fallen comrades.

"This was our last stand," Kreegan said again. "Now, I am all that remains of what the MBL and TOMB once were. Myself and my chief lieutenant."

"And who might that be?" Igor asked, curious.

"You knew him as the Snake-Headed Son, but now, he goes by the name of Guido Cicciolto. He is out fighting the forces of DarkFury for the moment... It is my hope that he returns."

"Why don't you fight?" Igor asked. "Wouldn't your magic be helpful?"

"I forfeited my magic long ago," Avatar explained. "It is for this reason that I have aged into a man you never knew. It is for that reason that I am slowly dying... I have cancer, Igor."

Igor hung his head silently, not knowing what to say. Avatar, however, did know what to say.

"Our world is doomed, Igor," he said, walking over to one item in his memorial to his friends. "You must prevent that from happening..."

The mage pulled Bibbo's ring from the steel hand that once belonged to the sailor and aimed it at Igor.

"Farewell, old friend." Before Igor could even raise his hands in protest, the beam tore into him, transporting him to another Hyperboard altogether.

Across the ethereal plains of the Hyperboard Nexus...

Another Igor Jr. sat solemnly in a hotel bedroom. Around him, the members of the band Mucus Creek lay drunk on their beds. Igor sighed quietly, picking up the same magazine that he had read cover to cover, at least twice, bored out of his mind.

A bright light outside his window caused his attention to shift as a lone figure materialized on the pavement outside the hotel.

"Battle mode..." the lizard whispered. "Shrink to one-fifth normal size..."

"Acknowledged," the tin voice of his armor chirped.

Igor, now small and armed to the teeth, flew out the open window, hovering in the air to get a good look at the new arrival. He didn't need to look long to verify the identity.

It was him...