Kang the Conqueror; already glimpsed in his MCU iteration, and clearly being set up as a big bad for the coming phase, yet never the easiest villain to play convincingly. Someone I used to know always referred to him as Kang the Conquered, because for all his knowledge of past and future, his technology and legions and mastery of time, the silly bastard kept showing up in the present day and getting his arse kicked by the Avengers. And if you try to move away from the bathetic and make more of his epic potential, then you run into the trap which awaits any time travel story, especially one threading between decades of previous stories by dozens of different people, because it can very easily become confusing, insubstantial and/or plain ridiculous to have the character hopping back and forth across his own tangled timeline, especially when at least four other Marvel characters have been revealed as versions of Kang at other points in his life.
Still, sometimes it works – Kurt Busiek et al mostly pulled it off in the monumental Kang Dynasty, which will hopefully donate more than just its title to the forthcoming Avengers film, and so do Collin Kelly, Jackson Lanzing and Carlos Magno in this miniseries. I'm not sure how much of the material here is new story, how much simple restatement (because, again, decades of confusing backstory, of which I've only read a fraction), but it gets off to a perfect start with Kang, mournful on his throne, pondering that tale of Alexander the Great which, like Canute on the beach, has too often been not just eroded by time, but turned entirely back to front. Well, not here, and simply for knowing better than to trot out the 'no more worlds left to conquer' bullshit, the book had my attention. From there we flash back – at least within Kang's own timeline – to his youth in the 31st century: "My world was a utopia of pleasure and entertainment. My so-called betters called it post-scarcity. I called it boring." And just as he's finding his own way out of that resented tranquility, who should interfere but – himself, of course, older, wiser, stronger, yet also far more bitter, and determined that his younger self should avoid all the mistakes which brought him to that point. Never realising that all he's become is one more cage for the younger self hellbent on escaping every restriction. Particularly with the older Kang's insistence that the younger should never love, this story of the alienated son of privilege dreaming of blood and glory feels more relevant now than ever, recalling as it does the visions of all those incels and would-be warlords in the dark corners of the net. More than that, though, it's one of the oldest stories there is: wherever you go, there you are. Almost a platitude, yet the grander the scope and the more intricate the genre machinery you use in deploying it, the harder it hits me (see also: Westworld seasons 1-2; Mike Carey's Lucifer). So too here, with Kang always trying to outrun himself, get it right this time, unlose his lost love, yet for all his brilliance and superscience, still doomed to end up beaten and alone. The scale is vast, especially for only five issues; the visuals are spectacular, and especially in the fall of Chronopolis, the writing is magnificent. Never being able to do a proper ending means that Big Two superhero comics aren't usually a natural fit for tragedy, but play it just right and that can be the biggest tragedy of all.