Post by dans on Apr 1, 2024 0:25:02 GMT
| Prior Appearances of Master Mystic The Golden Age Origin of Master Mystic Rango the Ravager Read all the chapters in the introduction to 'The Greatest American Movie' Chapter 1: Blue Fire in: Out of Circulation Chapter 2: Black Zero in: Submarine Sabotage Chapter 3: Lady Fairplay in: Mississippi Mayhem Chapter 4: Mirror Girl in: Kidnapped Chapter 5: Dr. Diamond in: War Zone Fort Rosecrans Chapter 6: Fearless Flint in: Intrigue in Washington Chapter 7: Willow Wisp in: Cold Justice Chapter 8: Master Mystic in: The End of the Beginning (Read me last!) |
About a week ago...
The Burden of the Oval Office
Well past dark, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt still sat at his desk, alone for the moment in the Oval Office, trying to shake off the weight of the world that lay heavy on his shoulders. It had been a long day, but there was one last task he needed to address today, perhaps his most important of the day. Certainly one of today’s more pleasant tasks, as well! With a tired hand but a smile on his face, he reached for a folder on his desk and pulled out a stack of typed pages. He read each one carefully, pausing to reflect on the lives and sacrifices of each of the heroes addressed by the letters. Signing his name with a flourish, he added his official stamp to each page - a small but powerful gesture to honor these brave men and women. Carefully folding each page, he placed them into pre-addressed envelopes.
As he began reading the last letter, a chill filled room as it suddenly brightened with a new white glow, coming from high up near the ceiling. FDR's heart was pounding as he looked up to see a ghostly figure slowly float through the ceiling and descend toward the carpeted floor in front of him. With a twinge of fear, he had instinctively reached for his pistol, but before the figure landed, he was placing the gun carefully on the blotter next to the pile of sealed envelopes.
The ghostly figure stood in front of President Roosevelt, its ethereal voice echoing through the room.
"President Roosevelt, I come to you with an urgent message. These letters...they hold importance beyond what you can imagine. They project they describe may hold the key to the morale of our country in these trying times!" As the figure spoke, its glowing white form slowly began to change colors, until standing before the President behind his desk was a man clad in a vibrant green and silver costume, his head entirely concealed behind an eerie silver helmet - a man the President recognized as Master Mystic, the very hero named in the letter he was currently reading. It could not be a mere coincidence that Master Mystic had chosen to appear at this exact moment!
"Next time, can't you come through the door like anyone else? The Secret Service will be frantic if they find out how you got in!" Roosevelt barked in exasperation as he breathed deeply to quiet his heart, still pounding from the shock of Master Mystic’s sudden appearance.
Master Mystic chuckled softly at that. "I'll attempt to leave without causing any panic for the Secret Service," he promised in agreement. "They have an important job to do, and I don't want to make it any harder for them."
He paused, then changed the subject. “The reason for this unexpected visit is the very project you are addressing this evening. While I appreciate the great honor of being selected by you as part of this important patriotic project, I must insist that I not be included. I must avoid the public attention that would necessarily be engendered by my participation." His intense voice was deep and grave. "My name must be spoken only in cowering terror behind closed doors by those who fear my swift and merciless retribution, not blaring in lights on every flashy theater marquee across the nation!"
A chill ran down Roosevelt's spine as the ominous words, spoken in Master Mystic’s deep sepulchral tones, reverberated in his mind. The idea of being relentlessly pursued by an unstoppable phantom seeking merciless revenge sent shivers through his entire body. Despite knowing that this ghost would never have cause to pursue him, he couldn't entirely shake off the trepidation provoked by that thought.
With a reluctant nod, FDR's expression softened as Master Mystic completed his request. "I completely understand," he said in a calm and understanding tone. "I'll make sure to notify the director tomorrow and have the necessary changes made. Your fearsome reputation will remain intact," he promised sincerely. His internal trepidation was thoroughly erased by the next request.
Although Master Mystic's voice still held its deep and resonant quality, it no longer induced the same sense of awe as he continued speaking. In fact, FDR could have sworn he detected a hint of good humor in the hero's tone. "Thank you for graciously granting me your valuable time and attention, Mr. President," Master Mystic nodded, possibly even offering a small bow. "Before I take my leave, I do have one further request to make of you. Would it be possible for me to keep the letter that you will no longer be sending me as a memento of this great honor? I will give it a special place of reverence in my Sanctum Sanctorum, within my mystical tower."
Roosevelt's eyes sparkled with amusement as he nodded in agreement. "Your unwavering service and support of law and justice is greatly appreciated!" Despite the pain he always felt upon rising, he stood tall and straight and handed the letter to Master Mystic, then the two men exchanged a warm handshake. "Be sure to leave discreetly - the Secret Service has been giving me a hard time about my secret meetings," he added with a mischievous grin
Master Mystic carefully tucked the letter into his belt and floated towards the ceiling, fading from green and silver to a bright white glowing outline of a man which passed through the ceiling, and the President was alone in his office once again.
President Roosevelt swiveled his chair to face the speaking tube that connected his office to that of his long-time assistant. "Missy! Please see that these important letters are sent in tomorrow's mail. It's time to wrap up for the day, my dear."
He let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in his plush leather chair. In the world outside his office, the war raged on, and he could never truly find peace until it was over. But he was pleased with all that he had accomplished today.
Meanwhile, Back at the Sanctum Sanctorum
A vanishingly short time after he'd left FDR and vanished through the ceiling of the Oval Office, Master Mystic appeared in his spacious Sanctum Sanctorum, a vast room inside the polished marble globe that sat atop his towering spire on Mount Mitchell, the highest mountain east of the Mississippi. Above, a crystalline dome allowed the Sanctum’s occupant an unobscured view of the majesty and mysteries of the Milky Way. In one corner of the room, bookshelves laden with tomes ancient and modern lined the walls. Settling into a luxuriously comfortable recliner, Master Mystic opened the envelope he had been given by FDR. As he read through the detailed description of FDR's proposed "Greatest American Movie" project, he couldn't help but feel both illuminated and intrigued by the potential of this grand project.
Finally, the Letter
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As he read the letter, Master Mystic couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping into the back of his mind, where his mind-over-matter power operated. His intuition was telling him that there was something hidden beneath the surface of FDR's grand project. "I better stay vigilant and keep an eye on this 'Greatest American Movie' endeavor," he thought to himself. "This is bound to be intriguing."
Next Appearance of Master Mystic
The Greatest American Movie