SAN DIEGO -- The geek shall inherit the Earth!

Their dominion begins at Comic-Con, the weird capital of the world. An estimated 130,000 fanboys and girls descended on San Diego over the past five days to visit the mecca of fanboy-dom, the place all true believers must make a pilgrimage to once in their lives. If you speak Klingon, this is your Disneyland, a place of full-throttle fan frenzy with a mind-bending galaxy of Daleks, Trekkies, zombies and steampunkers.

Over the years, Comic-Con has grown from a ragtag comic book convention to the epicenter of American pop culture, where movie studios and television networks spend millions to promote their upcoming films and shows (not all traditional fanboy fare). The official guide to events is 200 pages long, and there are plenty of unofficial programs. The event sells out almost instantly, hotel rooms are scarce and the big panels are almost impossible to get into.

Josh Hutcherson, left, and Jennifer Lawrence attend the &quot;The Hunger Games: Catching Fire&quot; press line on Day 4 of Comic-Con International on
Josh Hutcherson, left, and Jennifer Lawrence attend the "The Hunger Games: Catching Fire" press line on Day 4 of Comic-Con International on Saturday, July 20, 2013 in San Diego. (Photo by Todd Williamson/Invision/AP)

This year, "Breaking Bad" and "How I Met Your Mother" share the limelight with "Hunger Games," "The Walking Dead," "Doctor Who" and "Game of Thrones." There were also huge interactive installations plugging the new "Dracula" show and the "Ender's Game" movie starring Harrison Ford. Oh, and did we mention the Metallica concert to plug the rock gods' new 3-D documentary?

The event, which began as the Golden State Comic Book Convention in 1970 in the basement of a San Diego hotel, is now a massive gauntlet of panels, screenings and parties that spills out of the San Diego Convention Center and into the surrounding area.

Myke Seaworth, 25, has made the trek all the way from Great Britain each of the last three years. Like many in the nerd herd, he comes for the sense of solidarity.

"All the like-minded people you meet make it worth it," says Seaworth, a gamer and "Game of Thrones" fiend. "Especially when it's geeky interests that would usually make you a social recluse in a lot of circles."

Laura Royce, a sci-fi buff, even credits her high hopes for the event with getting her through a recent battle with cancer.

"I was 18 years old when I first went, and arriving at Comic-Con was like coming home," says the 30-year-old from Rowland Heights. "It was the family I didn't know I had. Within a few minutes, I'd met up with a random cadre of Klingons."

"I love Comic-Con. These are my people," says Bryan Fuller, executive producer of NBC's "Hannibal." "This is the rare place where it's acceptable to show unbridled enthusiasm for the things you love."

In the past, Seaworth has suffered the disappointment of standing in line for eight hours but still not getting a seat for the hottest sessions. So this year, he is joining the legions who camp out in line overnight. They refer to the lawn in front of the coveted Hall H, the Mount Everest of venues, as Camp H.

"The experience is loads of fun," says Seaworth, "usually you're at a party the night before so you come staggering drunk to the line at 12 to 3 a.m. ready to pass out, sober up and in the morning make mates with all the folks around you."

Some Comic-Con vets say the sacrifice is worth it. (Celebs, such as Ian McKellen and Joss Whedon, sometimes make surprise visits to the encampment.) But others say that it has become "line con."

"I don't do lines," sneers Kat Greenhill, 60, a retiree dressed in a Renaissance/pirate mashup. "It's not worth it to me."

The truly devout also show their loyalty to the sci-fi and fantasy realms through "cosplay" (costume play) as an Ewok or a Vulcan. Many a tiny tot is enlisted in the superhero homage so there were hundreds of mini-Captain Americas and wee Wonder Women. AMC also tempted gore-hounds with the "Walking Dead Escape" zombie obstacle course at Petco Park. In this paradise of putrefaction, you fork out $80 to be part of the brain-eating horde or $75 to be part of the human buffet.

One reason Comic-Con has exploded in recent years is the lure of escapism in uncertain times. "We all need an escape from reality, which can get really dark and hectic," says actress Emilie de Ravin, who plays Belle on "Once Upon a Time."

"The world can be a scary place."

Another reason for the boom in believers is the rise of the fangirl movement.

Kellie Rice, a 29-year-old hobbit-cum-novelist who lives in Santa Cruz, says it has finally "become socially acceptable for girls and women to overtly express their passion without being accused of being fakes."

However, some purists fear that the event has lost its soul and gone glam instead of geek. The surge in VIP-only, red-carpet soirees would seem to bear this out. Has Comic-Con sold out to Hollywood?

"Yes," says Karl Madsen, a middle-aged comics junkie, his voice thick with nostalgia. "I remember when the convention was by comic book fans for comic book fans."

"For Hollywood, it's just about hawking products," agrees Rena Wiriaatmadja, a 37-year-old "Doctor Who" fan (or Whovian) from Manteca.

Still, the scope of the geek extravaganza is what draws this cosmos of fans.

"Sure, the indies hate Hollywood and Hollywood, hates the indies but everybody has a place here," says Greenhill. "This is a no-judgment zone."

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