Fantastic Futile Waste Of F***ing Time, is what this should be called. Tripe. Smelly, cliche, badly doodled, artless excrement. I wouldn't waste my urine on this if it was on fire. This is mewling fanboy crap, this is the stuff that gives comics a bad name. It's microwaved left-overs from fifty years ago. Whomever commissioned this, was involved in creating it, or who reads beyond the fifth page for anything except reviewing purposes, should be hung, drawn and quartered, their left overs eaten by syphilitic lepers that bugger the corpses of Marvel commissioners.
Why is it bad? We don't have page room, or the ability to hire lawyers to defend the swearing and intended atrocities I would promise to commit to those that proport to call this anything other than a random robot-brain driven derivative fleck of seagull spit, but I'll give a few: awful art, like a child's version of what it was told they looked like, where, despite how many years in the future is this set, the Richards children look the same age as Reed and a somehow still nubile, wrinklefree Susan, resulting in Johnny looking the same age as Reed. A story that is so hackneyed and devoid of anything except for the desire to show 'cool' fights or explain the vapid plot, that by the end you can't remember what is going on.
You know what, I can't even be arsed to waste my life reviewing this any more it's so bad.