Two! Two! Two Annuals In One!

 

The year 1979 saw the character of Spider-Man at the height of his popularity, featured in three titles (Amazing Spider-Man, Marvel Team-Up, and Peter Parker, the Spectacular Spider-Man (while also having racked up his share of the Giant-Size books) with, unbelievably, even more on the way. It was fair to wonder at times what depths were being dredged to come up with all the new story material that required taking into account Peter's double life and revolving cast of characters (anyone here remember Marcy Kane?), to say nothing of the artists tapped to churn out story after story of the web-slinger's adventures along with the travails of the stretched-to-the-limit Peter Parker, who somehow, somehow, managed to combine his activities as Spider-Man with his college, Daily Bugle, and family responsibilities while squeezing in something of a social and/or love life and hopefully some sleep, all in a 24-hour period. The coordination between the writing and art staff must have been nothing short of a trapeze act.

The one thing that Peter didn't have to worry about, of course, was a shortage of villains--with one of his deadliest pulling double duty in that year's Amazing/Spectacular annuals which shared the same plot, thanks to writers Marv Wolfman and Bill Mantlo teaming with artists John Byrne, Terry Austin, Rich Buckler and Jim Mooney. To help keep track of the events occurring in both and figure out where things are headed, the PPC ties these two annuals together in one post, as Spider-Man attempts to head off a scheme which could see Dr. Octopus launch his greatest and most ambitious plan--one that might well lead to a nuclear holocaust!

"The Day The Earth New York Turned Green!"

 

The 1982 Incredible Hulk Annual is essentially an exercise in pure adventure, one that sees the mighty Avengers struggle to uncover a scheme which threatens to destroy or enslave the population of the entire world. And as we can assume from the book's masthead, there's one Avenger in particular who appears to be the key to the crisis--though it's his alter ego, Bruce Banner, whom we find is taking the first, desperate steps toward stopping a plan which has already been put in motion.

Producing this story is writer Bill Mantlo (who also scripted the monthly Hulk series) and artists Rich Buckler and Joe Sinnott, with letterer Jim Novak and colorist Bob Sharen (whom we gather is going to have one particular color on hand, to be sure)--an ideal grouping of talent for a 32-page Hulk story which ends up featuring not only Earth's mightiest heroes but also guest appearances by other mainstream Marvel characters.

As we've learned from Page One, Mantlo is just about to initiate the period in the regular book where Bruce Banner finally succeeds in suppressing the Hulk's brutish mind and placing himself in control of not only his transformations but also the Hulk himself--a development which, among other things, will see him once more fighting alongside the Avengers (which Mantlo milks for all it's worth).  But it's the savage, uncontrollable Hulk who appears here and in one way or another ties together the various scenes playing out before us. As for the nature of the danger, the news media have the 411 for us, though it looks like they're in the same boat as the rest of New York City.

Which brings us to this tale's villain--none other than the Leader, who plans to make sure that this "green flu" epidemic that Mr. "Ratner" reports on will soon enough spread throughout the world. But even now, Bruce Banner, the Leader's prisoner, seeks to fight his foe with the only weapon he has available to him--none other than the Hulk, whom Banner hopes to subliminally influence with thoughts and images which his green-skinned raging persona can interpret and act on.

Yet Banner's presence is actually a crucial step in the Leader's plan--which brings us to Dr. Rikky Keegan, an unwitting accomplice who had only wished to cure Banner of his affliction but falls victim to the duplicity of her host and gives the Leader precisely what he needs in order to infect others to either do his bidding, or die in the process.

Yet when Banner's dreaded transformation takes place, the Hulk must first battle for his freedom against the forces under the control of one of his oldest enemies--even as Banner's plan for the Hulk begins to kick in, if only it isn't too late.

Earth's Mightiest Floating Heads!

 

"I like to goof off now and then, too, you know." - (Mrs.) Young-Ja Kim

Always one to take the sentiments of the redoubtable Mrs. Kim to heart (if I know what's good for me), I've finally gotten around to a little goofing off of my own by exploring a subject we readers of silver- and bronze-age comics are all too familiar with: Those aghast, worried, concerned, taken aback, consternated, and certainly conspicuous floating heads on issue covers which appeared out of nowhere to draw attention to whatever and whoever they were casting their piercing gaze(s) on.

It seemed a rare day when we saw such bodyless faces appear in titles featuring a solo character, since both hero and villain(s) were occupied in full-size poses slugging it out on a given issue's cover--but in group books, they were all the rage, carefully placed on valuable cover space to provoke a reaction in the comics browser that what awaited within was momentous enough to merit spending their hard-earned change on. It also goes without saying that they were also useful in a marketing sense when other characters in the group didn't make it on the cover but rated a head shot in order to let the prospective reader know that whoever they might have been most interested in still showed up in the story.

Both Fantastic Four and The Avengers featured a prodigious amount of floating heads in their first volumes, but it's the latter title which offered more variety when it came to its characters given the sheer amount of different Avengers to choose from. As for the approach we'll take with this, it became more interesting for me to present these "floaters" on their own and out of context rather than blending in with whatever else was on the cover. It turns out that, in just over 400 issues, there were only a mere twenty-five instances where these heads appeared before tapering off around 1990. Nevertheless, they made their mark, and are not to be confused with groupings of other, equally familiar floating heads:

And so let's get to it--though it seems that three of the Avengers have already taken a glance at this collection and are less than pleased with the direction we're headed in. You'll have to take up your grievances with Production, gentlemen!

Artwork by Gil Kane and John Romita (Prior framing art by John Buscema and George Klein)

The Cover That Failed!

 

Following a launch in early 1972 that saw its first four issues apparently competing with Marvel's Greatest Comics as a reprint title for older Fantastic Four tales, Marvel Triple Action then shifted its focus to offering reprints of The Avengers--its covers for the most part mimicking MGC in retaining the original cover art of a story, interspersed with new covers drawn by contemporary artists of the '70s. Arguably, there may have been no Avengers cover more in need of a makeover* than that of the December 1966 issue, rendered by artist Don Heck and pictured here with Rich Buckler's interpretation of its events nine years later.

*Though I'd put the cover to issue #38 in the running.

As we can see, there are two schools of thought as to where the Avengers' fight with the Living Laser comes to a head. On the right, we see a deadly struggle taking place on a bridge in New York City--while on the left, our heroes are on the defensive with the Laser in the Central American country of Costa Verde (a locale which may sound familiar to you from another '70s story). Both covers retain the captions featured on the original--the title referring to Goliath sabotaging the Laser's powerful laser cannon, while Goliath's big change has him regaining his size-changing powers after becoming trapped at ten feet not long after rejoining the team.

While both covers have their peculiarities, it's the original which seems most in need of improvement. Even those behind the scenes in production seemed to recognize that, with what appears to be a last-minute substitution of the Captain America figure with one drawn by Jack Kirby, taken from an issue of Tales Of Suspense published in the same month:

As for the other figures, little thought has been given to what everyone is supposed to be doing (with the exception of the Laser's aggression). Even the Kirby figure's positioning is poorly chosen, having been dislodged (presumably by the Laser) from the cliff, with the Laser either opening fire on Cap's shield or Cap blocking the blast, both superfluous at this point. In the Laser's case, he's already sent Cap plummeting--why continue to fire at his target, much less at the wrong angle? And why should Cap worry about blocking a blast that would miss him?

And speaking of angles, who or what is Hawkeye aiming at? This marksman isn't going to hit the Laser at the angle he's positioned--maybe goons unseen off to the left? That leaves Goliath, who makes a great target for the Laser with his back turned to him; but at the moment, we can't be sure whether he's trying to save Cap, or if he's the one who threw Cap off the ledge in the first place.

On the MTA cover, Buckler's depiction is actually representative of the events taking place in the prior issue's story. But while the activities of the Laser and the Avengers are in the vicinity of the bridge, our motorists are only in the line of fire insofar as an attack by the Laser from miles away, and Buckler taking just a tad of artistic license with presenting a battle scene (and a bridge disaster) that never occurred.

Obviously Buckler is making better use of Cap's shield--but since we've already spent a good deal of time piling on and detracting from the merits of each of these covers, this may not be the time to mention the fact that Cap really has no shield to use at this point, given that his one-of-a-kind, indestructible shield was earlier destroyed by the Laser. (Buck up, Cap! Is that why you're jumping off a cliff?)

Crowd Control

 

Comics stories derive a good deal of their drama from groups or crowds of ordinary people being present while heroes go about their business in major cities or other populated locales, whether interacting with those on the street or in offices or being mindful of those caught up in battles with foes which tend to endanger innocents who are unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yet on issue covers, which having the opportunity to convey a powerful image with large crowds who find themselves in the midst of a situation involving the title character(s), crowds are often elbowed out of the picture in order to present the story's main characters, including of course whatever individuals are responsible for selling the book.

But while rare, those cover images are noteworthy, and in some cases memorable depending on the circumstances of the story and the creative talent of the cover artist--and today you'll see a collection of such covers from the first volume of various titles where ordinary people do their part to help establish whatever crisis our heroes must face in the pages of the issue's story. As for a starting point, there's only one cover which stands above the rest in capturing this post's theme perfectly--pictured here with its homage cover rendered nearly twenty-eight years later.

Demolished!

When you take into consideration the fact that the story of the character known as Deathlok--the cyborg assassin/military operative tracking his targets in a not-too-distant post-apocalyptic future--took place not in his own series, but as a mid-1970s feature in the Astonishing Tales title, you would have to consider him something of a success story at the time, having managed to establish a steady readership even on a bi-monthly publication schedule that would delay each story installment for an interminable sixty days. Reader loyalty appeared far from the mind of Editor Marv Wolfman, however, when the final Deathlok story hit the stands in 1976*, without warning or acknowledgment of its cessation--its cover giving every indication of continuation for the series.

*As it happened, the last issue also coincided with the end of the Astonishing Tales book itself.

Certainly not the first issue to end a publication run abruptly and leave a big question mark hanging over its place on the spinner rack as to the resolution of its current storyline. (Silver Surfer #18 being one such example that comes to mind.)

Yet Deathlok's sudden disappearance following his encounter with the mysterious individual called Godwulf would be followed up with several spotty appearances that would have him interacting with individuals and timelines which existed nearly a decade before his own dismal future--appearances taking place in three separate titles in a span of over six years, though given that length of time it perhaps comes as no surprise that there seemed to be no story plot in effect that would tie these instances together coherently. Still, thanks in part to the covers being produced for those appearances, it's to Deathlok's credit that his character was still capable of attracting reader interest.

In essence, each story would make use of Deathlok as both a deadly threat and a victim of the circumstances he'd found himself in, as seen through the eyes of the respective books' writers at the time: David Kraft, Marv Wolfman, Mark Gruenwald (with Ralph Macchio), and J.M. DeMatteis. It was DeMatteis who would finally break the cycle of Deathlok "guest-starring" in Marvel continuity and make an effort to resolve his situation in his own timeline--but stringing together his prior appearances in the past to get to that point would take some doing.

"Havoc In The Hidden Land!"

Invaders from the 5th Dimension have taken control of the Great Refuge of the Inhumans! Holding the royal family captive is their conqueror, Xemu, who intends to employ his sonic amplifier, the "thunder horn," to sow the seeds of war with the nations of Earth, using the voice of Black Bolt as a weapon of mass destruction--and to ensure the former monarch's cooperation, Xemu has dispatched Quicksilver to New York City to retrieve Medusa, a member of the Fantastic Four but also Black Bolt's betrothed, as the means by which Black Bolt will have no choice but to concede to Xemu's demands.

But Xemu's patience wears thin, and time is running out! As the FF blast off and head for the hidden land of the Inhumans, will they be able to challenge a ruthless invader willing to shed the blood of his hostages?

"Invasion From The 5th Dimension!"

With writer Roy Thomas back in the driver's seat following Gerry Conway's twenty-month stay on Fantastic Four, artist Rich Buckler continued to make his mark on the title, handing both writers a number of successful tales to work with in a run which lasted over two years (though taking a break for a few issues). One of the earliest of those tales was just after Thomas had re-dipped his toes in the FF's waters by joining Len Wein to wrap up the Dr. Doom/Silver Surfer plot which had entangled the team; from there, Thomas moved to guest-starring the uncanny Inhumans, along with a villain who had the misfortune of crossing paths with one of the FF well over a decade before.

In the 1975 two-part tale, Zemu is dusted off and instead reintroduced as "Xemu," though you can continue to pronounce them the same, courtesy of the dizzying spin applied to the error by the letters page armadillo tasked with explaining it away:

(TBH, I happen to prefer "Xemu," though I can't bring myself to high-five the writer of that response when they couldn't cough up a simple "Oops" and leave it at that.)

Yet aside from the threat Xemu poses, in the spirit of FYI there are a number of takeaways from this story which are notable. For one, it marks the end of Medusa's lengthy stay in the book as a member of the FF, instated by Thomas as a replacement for Sue Richards just after the team helped the Inhumans come to terms with their personal shame in the form of the construct called Omega; in addition, Medusa's departure not only coincides with Sue's decision to return to the team, but also with Johnny Storm's decision to return to his original blue costume, having adopted the costume colors of his namesake, the android Torch, at the same time Medusa had decided to join the team.  (Though Johnny's later decision to do an about-face on his costume choice actually had more to do with the real-life editorial decision implemented to avoid confusion in regard to the reappearance of the original Torch in The Avengers.)

On a more humorous note, Ben Grimm, the Thing, once more is cajoled into attending the opera with his lady, Alicia Masters--and as we can see in a comparison with a prior story from 1963, the circumstances he encounters after the performance are equally disagreeable.

While Johnny finds that, where women are concerned, clothes don't necessarily make the man:

And do you remember when Sue was toying with the idea of becoming a private eye?

A line of work she appears to have a talent for, as seen in her 2019 series where she flies solo as a secret agent--an occupation made retroactive to shortly after she gained her force field powers.  But the scene actually appears to be more of a nod to recent letters that wanted Sue to be more of a force in her own right post-reconciliation with Reed, with one letter's response hinting at a new development for her:  "...in the next issue or two, ... you'll see Sue begin a whole new career--the last one you ever thought she'd pick!"  Apparently toying with the idea was as far as it went.

Other items of interest include the fact that the Baxter Building has had a secret entrance all this time, which either Quicksilver, the Inhumans, or their foe have knowledge about:

It also turns out that Quicksilver is now considered an Inhuman, by decree and by himself:

Yet as to the main story, regrettably you'll find that it lifts a good deal of its content from an earlier FF two-parter from 1969 while simply replacing the threat of Maximus with Zemu Xemu. Though where Maximus achieved his goal from the use of hypno-potions, Xemu, while no stranger to deposing rulers through the use of force, makes good use of dimensional transport to bypass any perimeter defenses which the Inhumans have in place and basically take the royal family by complete surprise.

The End Is Nigh, Where Ride... The Four Horsemen Of The Apocalypse!

When we're talking about the end of all there is, you'd be hard-pressed to find more fearsome characters to adapt for a comics story than the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, the harbingers of the Last Judgment who originate from the Book of Revelation. Let's face it: If you subscribe to the beliefs of the Bible and you spot four horsemen descending from the clouds, it's fair to assume that your number is up--that everyone's number is up, given that the task of the Horsemen is to "set a divine apocalypse" upon the world. That sort of wording isn't likely to put a happy face on the event, since no matter how you slice it an apocalypse is still an apocalypse; in addition, though it's comforting to know that Heaven will have horses, it's anyone's guess why a domain with winged angels would need to send harbingers galloping down on horseback. Nevertheless, you can't help but appreciate the notion that God has been interpreted to have a sense of the theatric.

"Four Horsemen of the Apocalpse"

Painted by Russian artist Viktor Vasnetsov, 1887

From left to right: Death, Famine, War, and Conquest

In terms of these characters being represented in comics, you may remember the Four Horsemen of Apocalypse--that is, the ancient mutant who adapted other mutants to fulfill his plans for global conquest, and whose credo has been "growth, judgment, and destruction" throughout his centuries-long life span. Apocalypse depended on science and technology to create his horsemen...

...but for his final convert, Death, he took advantage of the injuries of Warren Worthington, the Angel, replacing his amputated wings with razor-sharp equivalents and sending him out with the other horsemen to do his bidding.

That story played out in the fall of 1987. But years earlier, in 1974, Gerry Conway and Marv Wolfman, along with artist Rich Buckler, created Marvel's earliest version of the Four Horsemen--aliens who would return to Earth to conquer it anew, and, this time, maintain their grip on it forever!

And since we're talking about four horsemen, it stands to reason that it would be the Fantastic Four who would fight to deny them their prize.

In Victory, Defeat!

Previously, we've seen the Fantastic Four as well as the Silver Surfer drawn into a scheme set in motion by Doctor Doom in order to bind the Surfer to his service--a plan that depended on Doom's marriage to none other than Shalla Bal, the Surfer's long-lost love from his homeworld of Zenn-La, in order to force the Surfer to destroy the FF in exchange for Shalla Bal being released from her vows. Initially, the Surfer was prepared to comply--but instead of slaying them, he delivered them to Doom at his castle in Latveria as his prisoners (with the FF's covert cooperation).

During that time, we also learned that Doom's true purpose in involving the Surfer was to gradually draw off and adapt the sky-rider's cosmic power to reside in an artificial being of his own creation--a plan now revealed as the FF escape their imprisonment and search the castle for Doom in order to finally strike back at their foe.  Meanwhile, the Surfer continues to brood at his helplessness in being so near to the woman he loves and yet so far, due to an apparent loss of her memory presumably inflicted by Doom. And to raise the stakes in this three-pronged conflict, the deadly Doomsman is summoned to life!

We've reached the climax to this three-part tale from early 1975--

and from the looks of its cover, there's plenty of "doom" to go around.

When Ambushes The Silver Surfer!

While marked by some measure of controversy, artist Rich Buckler's nearly two-year stint on Fantastic Four in the mid-1970s is generally regarded as one of the more successful and noteworthy runs by an artist in the book's long history. Taking the reins from another of the title's most acclaimed pencilers, John Buscema, whose stay on the book is often described by such words as "classic" and "definitive," Buckler began his assignment by arriving at a pivotal moment, with the team disbanding following the decision of Reed Richards to shut down the mind of his son, Franklin. The grim circumstances notwithstanding, it was an opportune time to arrive for any artist fresh to the book--a chance to chart a new course for the FF without having to necessarily conform to what came before.

On that note, while there's a good deal of Buckler's style to be seen in his FF work, there was also an effort made to conform to the prior work of Jack Kirby, the book's original artist (and an archtype, to be sure)--with Buckler being one of several pencilers to mimic his style, as well as, unfortunately, to virtually duplicate Kirby's panels and/or forms therein. That's partially why it seems apt to spotlight a story from early 1975 which is (for the most part) free from such distraction, while allowing the reader to not only focus on Buckler's standout style which carried the book through twenty-one issues, but also on two of the Fantastic Four's most prominent guest-stars: the deadly nemesis known as Doctor Doom, who was also featured when Buckler was getting his feet wet with the book in '74, and the reappearance of the Silver Surfer, whose previous Fantastic Four appearance was in mid-1972 when Stan Lee was scripting his last few issues for the title.

And to add a twist, it looks like Buckler, along with writers Roy Thomas and Len Wein, have the two of them teaming up--against the FF!

The Art Of The War

Following up on a previous post that explored the launch issue of the Amazing Adventures series "War Of The Worlds" from 1973, it was evident that the acclaimed yet troubled series would be off to a shaky start, with its writer and artist moving on to other commitments soon after the book's second issue saw print--and only a semblance of direction for moving forward provided by its creator, Roy Thomas, the series now waiting for whoever would pick up its reins. After Marv Wolfman stepped in to script the third issue, the writing position, at least, was secured when Don McGregor joined the book for what would be the entirety of its run, while pulling double duty with the "Panther's Rage" storyline in Jungle Action.

But who to pencil and ink the series from this point? We know that artist Craig Russell would come aboard eventually (with the tenth issue) to add his talents to McGregor's and provide the series with the distinction it still carries to this day; in the meantime, the upside to the book's artistic direction being in flux is that readers were treated to a succession of different hands that brought their interpretations to the concept and the characters. That would be, in order of appearance, Herb Trimpe, Rich Buckler, and Gene Colan, with a number of inkers that included Frank Giacoia, Klaus Janson, and Frank Chiarmonte. Below are brief samplings of their contributions to WOTW, though you'll certainly want to enjoy their respective issues in their entirety.

After The Rage

With the events of "Panther's Rage" having at last reached their conclusion, we rejoin the Black Panther two months after the fierce raid of Erik Killmonger virtually wiped out all that stood in central Wakanda, as its ruler and its people begin putting their country and their lives back in order. Writer Don McGregor appropriately titles the story "Epilogue!", though an exclamation point seems out of place considering the destruction and loss of life; perhaps it's in the spirit of transition, and moving on. Yet while there is no celebratory spirit resonating among the Wakandans, there is no cloud of sadness hanging over the country, either; rather, the mood is one of resolve and continuation, for the traditions and commitment of these proud people endure and will be reclaimed. Lives have been upended, but not abandoned.

The story spends less time than you might expect on the characters "picking up the pieces," so to speak, from the prior issue, though we can easily presume that much of the labor and administrative tasks have been well underway for the past sixty days. That leaves just a few loose ends to tie up that involve secondary characters. For instance, the former operative of Killmonger known as Venomm, who intervened in the final battle when another operative, King Cadaver, attacked the Panther's communications commander, Taku, whom Venomm had struck up a trusting relationship with during his incarceration. We don't know the extent to which Venomm may have worked against Killmonger's interests that day; perhaps he simply abstained from further action on Killmonger's behalf.  Whatever occurred, it's clear that he's being released, perhaps even on his own recognizance.

The mixed signals McGregor and artist Billy Graham are sending in regard to Venomm's current status don't leave enough room to speculate much further on the subject. Led around in chains (wouldn't handcuffs do?), Venomm appears to still be considered a threat in the eyes of Wakandan authorities--yet the Panther is supplying a craft to return him to America, in essence letting him go free (unless he's being extradited, in which case he would have remained bound). At the very least, his departure provides one last look (in the truest sense, as it turns out) at the hapless trials of Kazibe and Tayete, formerly in the service of Killmonger but in time rejecting their allegiance to him.

There is also T'Challa's security head, W'Kabi, to check in on, who fell victim first to Venomm and then became further injured when one of Killmonger's dinosaurs crashed into the hospital where he was recovering. Today, we find him not only having lost his family, but something that even Wakanda's technology can't fully replace.

Later, W'Kabi joins the Panther in investigating the deaths of two men, whose murders are in the style of one who was only recently dealt with. Both men, unfortunately, will fall to the merciless foe who ordered these recent deaths--or, rather, the one who acts in her name.

The story of the man called Mute and his mistress, Madam Slay, has already been recounted elsewhere in the PPC, serving to bring to a close this saga of over two years which became a well-regarded feather in the cap of McGregor, Graham, original artists Rich Buckler and Klaus Janson, and Graham's predecessor, Gil Kane.

---

Along the way, there were some noteworthy moments in "Panther's Rage" aside from the pages of the story itself. Additional insight into the story's plot and implications could be found in the book's letters pages, which, thanks to its bimonthly publication, were printed with as little as a two-issue gap between story installments rather than the usual four. There was unfortunately limited space for letters, for the most part; in fact, it's a fair observation that with a few less "filler" pages (as one letter-writer put it) of artistry and recaps, letters pages could have been expanded more frequently. In addition, many letters pages featured letters from the same writers repeatedly--among them Dean Mullaney, Ralph Macchio, and Peter Gillis (the latter two you may recognize as future Marvel Comics writers); it would have been nice to hear from a broader spectrum of readers, particularly since there was no lack of notices reminding readers that voicing their thoughts on stories made a real difference. (Though even one of Macchio's letters was omitted due to space limitations, it should be noted.)

And speaking of Machhio, he had the following food for thought on the deeper role that the boy and unexpected hero of the story's climax, Kantu, seemed to personify.

"When Erik Killmonger is pushed off the precipice in the climax, he is not pushed by either the Black Panther or Kantu. He is forced over the edge by the basic id portion of the Wakanda chieftan, T'Challa, for in truth, that is what Kantu really is. ... T'Challa and Kantu are inexplicably entwined, for each is but a different side of the same coin, with each emerging dominant in response to a given situation."

There were also two Editor forewords from those pages that followed the series and gave a virtual "Whew!" to the effort involved. Distilled and consolidated, they read as follows:

"It's all over.

"Two years and 209 pages later, the concept that began back in 1973 is finished. Oh, that concept changed subtly with the passage of time, as ideas reached their moment to become comic book reality: and the initial thrust expanded with each new chapter, sometimes adding more sagas to the entire "Panther's Rage" than had been originally planned: but even with the changes and expansion, it has ended.

"Don didn't realize what a controversial hornet's nest he was ramming into when he had T'Challa saved by that 'younger version of himself,' Kantu. Some were outraged by it. Some thought it negated the entire series. Others claimed that they didn't care how it ended except that was a stupid way to end it. On the other hand, there were positive responses also, and many of them, especially, were from you people who have been steady followers of the Marvel mythos."

Finally, to close out these PPC posts on "Panther's Rage" (and may I repeat:  "Whew!"), a sampling of splash pages which highlight the art of the letterer, so nicely coordinated with the work of Buckler and Graham.