The first storyline in this title served as something of an extended epilogue to Messiah Complex, as Cable skipped into the future with the baby, always staying one step ahead of the pursuing Bishop. Obviously, this formula couldn’t last forever, so after a 2-month gap in which we saw some fairly decent stories featuring Cyclops and Bishop take the place of the title character, the series returns with a new plot thread.

It’s been around 2 years since we last saw the characters, and Cable’s been hiding out in a small farming community in the future, keeping his head low while he raises the baby (who hasn’t been named, presumably to avoid having to confirm her identity.) It makes sense that Cable, an experienced time traveller, would eventually find a way to hide from Bishop, although it appears that Bishop’s come up with a new strategy to achieve his aims.

The main problem with the series thus far is that Cable is quite clearly positioned as the least interesting character in the cast. Bishop has a fairly complex motive and a history that backs it up nicely, even if he does come across as slightly crazed. Cyclops, too, has some depth as an appropriate choice of character for the supporting cast. Even the baby has the central mystery of her identity to keep people coming back. Cable, though, doesn’t seem to have any function in his own title, beyond putting one foot in front of the other. Indeed, his adaptability actually works against him, as the character we’re seeing in this issue doesn’t even feel like the same Cable we’re used to, having spent 2 years hidden away in a retreat in what can only be described as a fairly un-Cable-like situation.

It’s fair to say that the book’s not bad - a little plodding, occasionally a little sterile, but it does seem to have a clear idea of what it’s doing and where it’s going, even if it’s not rushing to get there. The main problem is that it shouldn’t really be called “Cable” at all - it’s not about him, and it doesn’t even want to be. At this point you could quite easily have titled the comic “Bishop” and it wouldn’t have been jarring. For something billed as a solo book, that’s inarguably a problem.

Every Wednesday we take turns to delve into our trusty longboxes, pluck out a dusty back issue, and give you our thoughts. We’ll also try and place it in the context of the time it was originally published.

In the late 90s, the quality black hole that had affected almost every comic released in the past decade was starting to lose its grip, not least due to the efforts of writers like Kurt Busiek, who was producing some top quality superheroics on both Avengers and Thunderbolts. In 1998, all of the Marvel Annuals took a “team-up” approach, and Busiek’s contribution (along with co-writers Karl and Barbera Kesel) was the “Captain America/Citizen V” team-up, which, with series regular Mark Bagley on art, was a Thunderbolts annual in all but name.

Bagley’s artwork was as strong then as it is now, delivering consistent, expressive superhero work that places him alongside the likes of John Romita Jr. In this issue, removed from the traditional urban superhero setting, Bagley gets the chance to render jungles and castles in a story that’s positively swashbuckling, as Citizen V and Captain America team up to fight Baron Zemo and Techno.

There are a few continuity-based oddities in the issue. At this point in history, for example, Captain America was using his bizarre photon-shield, The Fixer is in his “Techno” incarnation, and the current incarnation of Citizen V was pretending to be a man, which is a fairly major plot-point that gets addressed in this annual. Ten years later, it seems odd to see such things being treated as the status quo, but it’s also a constant reminder that any change, no matter how permanent it might seem, is usually just a story with an ending somewhere.

Indeed, even the traditional superheroic actions of Captain America seem far removed from the recent political intrigue of the character, both before and after his death. Busiek’s handle on him is actually remarkably effective, though, as he organises Zemo’s slaves against him and helps Citizen V assume her mantle, inspiring others through his actions. This issue (and ’98’s “Captain America / Iron Man” annual, also by Busiek) both suggest that Busiek’s Captain America might just be one of those great runs that never happened - understandably, given how much control Busiek already had over the Avengers franchise at the time, writing both Avengers, Iron Man and Thunderbolts (which had close ties to the property) but none of that makes it any less disappointing that a Busiek run on Cap never happened.

Taken in isolation, it’s a nice little story that treads some unfamiliar ground with some largely under-used characters who’ve fallen out of favour in recent years, though the issue really shines if taken as the chapter of Thunderbolts, slotting somewhere between #17 and #21. With Busiek’s writing and Bagley’s art, it was never going to be a mediocre turn, though, and it’s certainly worth picking up if you see it cheap.

So… is anyone actually reading Powers any more? It may sound like a stupid question, but it appears to have become a series that nobody really talks about. I closed this issue feeling like I’d just read the absolute end of the series - but surely if that were the case, it would have made news somewhere? And with solicitation evidence in the letterpages contradicting me, I hopped online to try and clear things up - only to find barely any mention anywhere that this ish even existed (Comics Daily might, for the first time, be about to hold the distinction of being the only site to review a particular comic - and one, lest we forget, released under the Marvel umbrella).

So is this the end? A recent interview with Bendis suggests not - although the series is due to take a break before apparently relaunching with volume three, next year so that “#31″ solititation would appear to be out of date after all. But to be perfectly frank, even if this issue isn’t the end, its contents suggest that it really should be. Because if the series is to carry on from here, it’s going to have to do so without Deena Pilgrim.

Yes, closure is the order of the day here - while nothing terminal happens to her, this really is the end of Deena’s story. She’s cured of the powers virus, she’s out of the force for good, she’s out of the country. We’re finally given an answer to the long-standing question of whether she really did murder Johnny Royale - and we even see the resolution of some long-standing sexual tension as she and Walker “break an unwritten rule” and share an affectionate, firmly platonic hug. Unless Bendis is planning a major, major fakeout - and even if he were, it’d be hard to see exactly where he could go with the character - then that’s it.

And it’s no surprise that the end of Deena’s story feels like the end of the book as a whole. Despite Bendis’ attempts to lay focus on the background of Christian, she’s always been the real heart of the story. The last time she was out of the book, it suffered - not that “Forever” wasn’t an intriguing tale, but it didn’t really feel like Powers. And neither will any other series without her. But then, you could argue that Powers hasn’t felt like Powers for some time. It’s painful to say it, because every arc up to and including the shocking “The Sell-Outs” was better than the one before (and it started off as one of the best books out there), and as such it’s been a book I’ve been rigidly loyal to. But despite the odd good moment or issue, it hasn’t really felt right ever since the first hiatus and relaunch. Scheduling problems haven’t helped, of course - especially in a book where each arc reads better in one go - but the series has felt increasingly like an afterthought rather than the important, vibrant comic it used to be (for another example of this, see Ex Machina).

Still. It’s perhaps premature to write Powers‘ obituary just yet, so let’s hang fire until Bendis gives a clearer idea of just what he plans to do with it. Instead, I should at least spend a bit of time talking about the issue itself. And as it happens, it’s one of the better ones for some time. With the main plot details of this latest arc all but wrapped up, it’s simply a case of dealing with, and reflecting on, the aftermath. And this is the sort of thing that Bendis does well. The character beats are strong - if subtle, and meaningful only to long-time readers - and there’s tonnes of dialogue (a reader coming to the series for the first time would probably laugh out loud at the layout of one double-page spread in particular - but sod it, it’s Powers, it’s always been like this). Tonally, it does feel like you always imagined Deena’s departure should.

If there’s a disappointing aspect of the issue in isolation, though, then it comes on the art front. It’s not that there’s anything particularly wrong with Oeming’s storytelling, his style or anything else (I mean, I’m sure there are people out there who don’t really like his style - but they’re not going to be reading Powers. Me, I’ve liked his work since day one of this book) - in fact, the issue as a whole is deeply atmospheric, the visual tone suiting that of the story. It’s just… well, maybe it’s the lengthy gaps that occur between issues nowadays, but he seems to be losing his handle on the characters - Christian in particular. Indeed, Walker looks so different nowadays to his “classic” look that I wonder if it’s a deliberate stylistic choice - gone is the chunky, grizzled, square-jawed cop of days gone by, replaced with someone taller (ludicrously tall, in fact), skinnier and, even, younger-looking. The double-page I mentioned earlier actually features perhaps the worst example of this - I know Oeming employs a cartoony style, but like all good cartoonists, he’s still usually spot on with consistency in his figures even as he’s exaggerating them. Here, though, Walker just looks wrong. And if I’ve dwelt on that a bit too much, perhaps it’s just that it’s symptomatic of how different the book feels to the days of “Who Killed Retro Girl?” and “Supergroup”. Deena herself, meanwhile, even looks inconsistent from page to page at times - but then, there are chunks of the issue that do feel like they were drawn a fair amount of time apart, with even the inking weights looking variable.

It’s not as if there’s no hope for Powers. Bendis is still, after all, one of the industry’s strongest talents - the fact that he’s kept Ultimate Spider-Man so consistently good is evidence of that - and this is his baby (it used to be one of two - ahh, remember the glory days of a new Powers AND a new Alias every month?). It’s not inconceivable that he’s had this relaunch idea up his sleeve all along, to give the series new life at a previously-undetermined point of steam loss. But the question remains - without Deena, is there any kind of point? Whatever happens, this certainly feels like the end of the book as we previously knew it - and a surprisingly low-key one, at that.

X-Force has quickly confounded expectations. On first announcement, it seemed like Chris Yost & Craig Kyle had grown tired of the constraints of the X-Franchise’s “Younger Reader” book, and had decided to balance things out with a gory rampage. While the Angels & Demons arc accordingly delivered buckets of blood, it was the willingness to casually reintroduce old X-Men plot threats into the action that literally marked the title as being for older readers.

To understand this approach, it’s worth considering a comment by Yost, who described the second arc’s use of the Vanisher as being a follow-up to Angel’s recent clash with the character. When the writer says “recent”, he means 100 issues and 8 years ago, adopting the perspective appropriate to a series of this length, if not to the normal definition of comics readers’ memory. The creators’ policy is to determinedly look at the X-franchise as being one continuous story, from which useful elements can be pulled without preamble. They don’t get caught up in resolving tiny inconsistencies in the past, simply cherry-picking plotlines which could be continued as a means of driving the franchise forward into new territory. What’s particularly interesting about X-Force is that the writers have abandoned the practice of including expositionary dialogue for the elements they reintroduce. While New X-Men cunningly engineered considerable discussion on the subject of the Nimrod Sentinel before it became a part of the plot, this issue’s cliffhanger relies on the reader instantly recognising the significance of the Vanisher’s target.

As the opening to a second arc, Old Ghosts’ first issue seems well judged; allowing the team some breathing space while the book’s main plotline develops outside of their control. A few minor issues are resolved as the writers sure up the book’s “secret team” premise, and a chilling montage shows Bastion beginning his work in earnest. Mike Choi and Sonia Oback’s art is spectacular, marrying detail with some superb storytelling. The pair’s experience of working with these writers shines through, making them a natural choice for secondary art duties. Choi is able to work in some of his trademark touches, such as Cyclops’ habit of wearing his New X-Men jacket over his present outfit, while keeping to the established style of the book. Also laudable is his actually making the cloned X23 resemble Wolverine, a detail that is often forgotten by other artists. The only misstep comes with Warren’s transformation into Archangel- where Clayton Crain was able to convey real horror in issue four, here a straightforward “turning blue” approach is adopted.

The series’ risk-taking ultimately pays off, however. While some plot points might leave casual readers of the franchise either confused or unmoved, the result is arguably a more essential purchase for X-Men fans than some of the core X-books.

Sigh. It’s getting incredibly hard not to sound like a broken record when reviewing the Secret Invasion tie-in issues of New Avengers. Once again, we only get cursory appearances by the New Avengers cast (though Spider-Woman-Skrull just about counts, I suppose) and once again, the issue serves solely to plug a continuity gap. Usually that means the issue is delivering the kind of revelations that should be in the main series, but in this case it feels a little more like an exercise in plugging continuity leaks, explaining exactly how the infiltrating Skrulls could make it through House of M unrevealed.

It’s not a particularly satisfying explanation, and for all the hints at some deeper Skrull involvement in the events of House of M, it turns out they were mainly just along for the ride as much as anyone else. It seems that it was all a happy coincidence that M-Day occurred just when the Skrulls needed the mutants gone.

What’s worse is that the material “Spider-Woman” had in the original House of M mini doesn’t remotely support the suggestion that she was the Skrull Queen back then. While some of Bendis’ “They were a Skrull all along!” revelations make sense, this one feels like it’s been really been hammered to fit into continuity, and no attempt is made to address incongruous scenes - instead they’re glossed over entirely.

Now, since it’s Bendis, it’s not a complete train wreck, and she does squeeze some decent character moments out of the situation. Seeing Veranke overwhelmed by the situation and briefly reverting to her Skrull form (in private) is a rare moment of vulnerability for a previously unflinching character, as is her emotional reaction to discovering the events of the Annihilation crossover. It’s worth noting that this is the first time, I believe, that Veranke has been shown reverting to Skrull form, so if the notion that the real Spider-Woman has pulled a switcheroo on Veranke is true, it did at least occur post-House of M.

The issue’s real saviour is Jimmy Cheung, who can’t seem to put a foot wrong. His widescreen style and ability to pack in characters makes him a perfect fit for a universe-spanning book like Avengers. The only shame is that he can’t draw more issues, because under his artistic direction, even a weakly-plotted issue like this seems perfectly executed. Of all the various Secret Invasion tie-ins that have turned up in New and Mighty Avengers, this one genuinely does appear to be the least essential of the bunch.

Next issue, New Avengers is finally back to the present with a story about The Hood and his band of villains resisting the Invasion. The snap back to current events doesn’t come a moment too soon after months and months of retcon action.

To put Hulk and Ultimates 3 out on the same day once may be regarded as a misfortune. To do it twice looks like carelessness. Yes, almost three months after the inaugural Jeph Loeb Day, Marvel have managed to do it again. Amazingly, though, this ploy actually works in favour of Ultimates - because finally, with its last issue, it manages to rise ever-so-slightly out of “worst comic ever” territory, and into the heady heights of “pretty bloody rotten”; and in doing so, actually avoids being the worst title of the week thanks to its bigger, uglier, stupider cousin.

Of course, not for a minute am I suggesting that Ultimates 3 has in any way managed to redeem its pitiful existence at the final hurdle. In fact, the attempts that Loeb makes in this issue to show people that yes, look, he really did read the Millar/Hitch series are actually even more offensive, because - from the hitherto-unemployed device of flashbacks to that series, to newly-minted rapist Pyro acknowledging that he “was in the X-Men once” - they’ve clearly just been thrown in at the last minute to deflect further criticism. That is, unless Loeb really does want us to believe that he structured the plot of an entire series around a single throwaway gag that Millar made in volume two. I’m not kidding - that’s where the motivations for all of Ultimates 3’s events spin out of.

So despite the fact that Loeb does at least bother to clean up the series’ underlying “mystery” (which is more than can be said for Hulk), and despite the fact that there aren’t anywhere near as many instances of excruciating dialogue or proto-adolescent attempts at “adult” “edginess” (just two that I counted - an awful, awful pun from Hank Pym that once again relies on knowing what the @$&! substitution means, thus defeating the point of even using it; and a gratuitous and brutal decapitation-and-whatever-the-word-is-for-chopping-hands-off sequence), this is still woefully misguided stuff. We get a “big reveal” that I imagine was supposed to be a surprise, but which simply makes us laugh at the fact that Loeb thought it would be a surprise; we have a continuation of the complete absence of any understandable character motivations; we have sloppy storytelling from Joe Mad that at one point sees a complete collapse in any kind of sequential progression; we have Janet Pym thinking she’s somehow authorised to override the US Government by allowing Hank Pym to be freed from house arrest for all that murder and terrorism to which he was an accessory; and despite the fact that the story ostensibly “ends” (rather surprisingly, actually - I expected a “To Be Continued In Ultimatum” blurb), there’s suddenly a massive “revelation” at the end that simply goes against all established rules of storytelling (because not once was it ever hinted at before - and that’s simply not playing fair).

In fact, I actually enjoyed the series more when it was one of the worst things I’d ever read - because the first few issues were incredibly easy to laugh at. But this… this is just lame. It’s badly-thought out, badly-told rubbish, and a waste of everybody’s time. “Disaster” is a word that’s probably overused in the hyperbolic circles of online comics criticism - but in using one of the most revered and groundbreaking superhero properties of recent years to tell a juvenile, simplistic and ultimately rather pointless tale, without showing any kind of interest in maintaining consistency in style, continuity or character, a disaster is exactly what Loeb has created. It won’t be missed.