Orphaned in Tibet, Daniel Rand was raised in the mystical city of K'un L'un. He grew up to master the martial arts better than any of K'un L'un's native citizens. At the age of nineteen, Danny plunged his hands into the molten heart of the dragon, Shou Lou. He then gained the power of the Iron Fist, and to this day he fights to protect the innocent from the corrupt.

You can feel his rancid breath on the back of your neck, can't you? You're at death's door, and the Devil himself has come to "welcome" you. He grins devilishly, his yellowish teeth visible in the torchlight.

You want to run, don't you? Pick up your feet, and run as fast and as far as you can. Never look back. Just run. Don't fight back, don't even bother to say anything, simply run for your life. Just. Run.

You've never been one to run, have you? You confront your problems, you defeat them. Your problem is in front of you. What do you do, Iron Fist? What do you do?

Daniel Rand is

In

"Hero Time"

Why... aren't I... dead yet? thought Iron Fist. Here he was, dying of the Death Spore Virus, Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker lying next to him. His Iron Fist had failed him, yet he wasn't dead.

Iron Fist struggled to his feet, bracing himself with the rake.* From Castle Doom, sounds of battle could still be heard, the Latverians still battling HYDRA.* Iron Fist wanted to help, but he could barely stand. I'm... not... going to... make it!

[* Iron Fist #2]

Iron Fist started to fall to the ground, when he caught himself. He couldn't give up! HYDRA was attacking innocents, people fighting for their right to freedom, the simple right to walk the street freely. How could he give up? Have to... help... them! he thought, his strength returning to him. He felt a warmth spread through him.

The... Iron Fist! It... is... working! It's fighting... the Virus! It... continues to fight. So must I! Dropping the rake, Iron Fist stood on his own, his strength still returning. I may feel... better, but I'm still... only around... 50 percent. Gotta take this...slow.

Finding a hastily erected bridge across the moat, Iron Fist stumbled across it. He could hear the sounds of battle down a corridor. He headed towards it, leaning against the wall for support.

Approaching a stairwell, Iron Fist could hear the battle coming from the top. He slowly climbed the stairs, and peered around the side. He could see HYDRA agents and Latverians locked in battle.

Suddenly, a HYDRA soldier spotted Iron Fist. He aimed his blaster at him, a cruel smirk on his face. Iron Fist ducked under the first blast, and leaped out of the way of the second. He tucked himself into a ball and somersaulted to his feet. A well-placed kick knocked the gun from the HYDRA agent's hand, and a quick chop to a nerve cluster knocked him unconscious.

Iron Fist bent down, his hands on his knees, panting. That, nearly finished me. I'm in...no condition to be...fighting. His eye caught the blaster on the ground. Hmm...

Iron Fist hefted the gun in his hand, and glanced at the settings. Iron Fist chose low intensity, hoping it would merely stun the agents. He aimed at a HYDRA soldier, and fired. The soldier fell to the ground, a soft moan escaping his lips. Good enough, thought Iron Fist.

Quickly, he began picking off HYDRA members. Whenever one turned to fire at him, a Latverian quickly took him out.

Within a few minutes the battle was over. Even as the Latverians began to tie up the HYDRA soldiers, the leader of the Latverians approached Iron Fist. "We thank you for your help," he said with a slight Latverian accent. "These men sought to take our newly-found freedom away from us. We are in your debt."

"Happy to help," said Iron Fist. He looked around. The SHIELD agents he had come to rescue were all dead, save the one who left with Misty and Colleen. "Strucker!" cried Iron Fist in horror. He had left the HYDRA leader outside!

Quickly, Iron Fist, supported by the Latverian leader, made his way to the window. Strucker was gone. A craft could be seen flying away in the distance. Iron Fist wasn't sure, but he thought he could see the HYDRA insignia on the side.

"At least he's gone," said Iron Fist softly. Now, how am I going to get home? thought Iron Fist.

"My men have found and prepared a craft of Doom's for you to return home to America," the Latverian said. He guided Iron Fist outside, where a small one-man plane was waiting. "It is of your liking, no?"

"It'll do the job," said Iron Fist. He reached out and shook the Latverian leader's hand. "Thank you."

"It is but a small token of our appreciation. Now go! Your friends are in need of you!" he said.

Misty! Iron Fist had nearly forgotten about her. He quickly boarded the plane. The Latverians backed away, and Iron Fist ignited the thrusters. Unlike conventional airplanes, this one had a Vertical TakeOff/Landing, or VTOL, system. That meant he didn't need a runway.

He rose into the sky, and headed for America.

* * * * *

"It's getting pretty rough out here," commented the pilot. Colleen Wing just grunted in reply, as she watched over her partner, Misty Knight. She glanced at a display showing the time.

"Can't you hurry it up," called Colleen. It had been hours since they had left Latveria, and they were still not home yet. Misty was looking worse by the minute. A small groan escaped her lips, not the first time of the flight.

"I had to detour around a storm earlier, and this rough weather now means we have to detour even farther north," said the pilot reluctantly. He knew how much his passengers wanted, needed to get home, but he wasn't going to risk a crash over the Atlantic Ocean. "We'll be over New Brunswick in a minute or two."

"New Brunswick? As in Canada?" asked Colleen. This was turning into an around the world trip. "Well, if it's the best you can do..."

"It is." The pilot shifted in his seat, and plotted a new course to get them back to the Helicarrier from their current position. He began to turn the plane slightly, when an explosion rocked the ship. "What the--?!" cried the pilot.

In the passenger compartment, Colleen was trying to keep Misty from bouncing around. "What the hell was that?!" she cried. Then she smelt the smoke. She turned, horrified to see the rear end of the ship in flames.

A second explosion rocked the plane, and then the distinct pull of gravity could be felt. Like a blazing phoenix, it fell, until it crashed into the ocean, near a small boat.

* * * * *

"Attention! Attention! This is Iron Fist. Requesting permission to dock," said Iron Fist into his radio. He was back at the SHIELD Helicarrier, which was hovering over the Atlantic Ocean.

"Permission granted," came a voice from the radio. The voice gave him instructions, and Iron Fist flew his craft into the belly of the Helicarrier, where a door slid open. He piloted it inside, and landed it in his designated space.

He disembarked the craft, and was met by a uniformed SHIELD agent. "Mr. Iron Fist, sir, you are requested to meet with General Ericsen immediately," he said stiffly.

"Later. Where's Misty?" he demanded. He stared at the agent intently.

The SHIELD agent shifted feet uncomfortably. "It's about Ms. Knight and Ms. Wing. They aren't here," he said nervously.

"So where are they?!" demanded Iron Fist. He was getting tired of SHIELD jerking him around.

"We don't know," gulped the agent. "They were due back an hour ago, but they never made it. Satellite photos have shown--"

"Save it. Take me to Ericsen."

"Yes sir," said the agent awkwardly. He headed for the door, Iron Fist in tow. He led Iron Fist down several corridors, until the agent knocked on General Moira Ericsen's door. Iron Fist didn't wait for an answer, and stormed in.

"Where are they?!" demanded Iron Fist. Ericsen was just rising from her seat, but then sat back down.

"Mr. Rand, please do calm yourself. A more irrational commanding officer would have you in restraints right now. Take a seat," she offered.

"I don't want a seat. I want answers. Where are they?!" Iron Fist slammed his hands down on the desk. Suddenly, a wave of pain struck him, and he fell into the chair. He grimaced painfully.

"Mr. Rand?" questioned Ericsen. "What's wrong?"

"In... Latveria!" grunted Iron Fist. "Strucker infected... me with...Death-Spore!" He cried out as another jolt of pain wracked his body. "Can't... get rid... of it!"

"The Death-Spore! Why, you should be dead by now!" cried Ericsen in shock. She grabbed for her phone. "Get me a medic, now!" she ordered.

Within minutes a doctor was in the office, taking Iron Fist's pulse. "It's weak, but it's there. Near as I can tell, his Iron Fist is fighting the virus, but it's killing him." The doctor took his glasses off, wiped them on his shirt, and put them back on.

"Can anything be done?" asked Ericsen.

"Perhaps. If the virus can be isolated, perhaps we can extract it. But..." he trailed off.

"But what?" piped up Iron Fist.

"The blood banks are severely low, with all the casualties created by Onslaught. And the waiting lists are much too long. Unless we can find a donor specifically for Mr. Rand, it can't be done," the doctor said sadly. What were the chances of finding a match?

"Get me some paper and a pen, General," said Iron Fist weakly. Ericsen snatched a pad of paper and a pen off of her desk and handed them to him. Iron Fist scribbled down an address, and a phone number. "Tell him Danny sent you," he said, his voice strained.

Iron Fist then passed out.

Ericsen picked up her phone, and pressed a button. "Get me Luke Cage on the phone."

Next: This is what you've been waiting for! With Fist near death, it's time for him to get bailed out by his best friend, Luke Cage! And what has become of Misty and Colleen? Only time and the next issue will tell.