7:46 pm
Matt was actually in the office for once. It had been less and less ever since the blip ended. And that meant that when he did check in he tried to put in as much as he could. It had been a 12-hour work day so far and he had at least 2 more hours coming afterwards. He probably owed it to Foggy.
His fingers slid across a braille-imprinted paper, a dry document reporting on delays in court proceedings and changes in jury. The kind of thing every instinct in your body tells you that you shouldn't care about but you probably need to. He took the time to remember the names and dictate a couple notes to himself so that he could remember to look into them when he had the time and the energy. As one hand finished reading up the document to make sure there weren't any curveballs thrown at the last minute his other hand was already on the typewriter next to him, typing up a response to the communications with the prosecutor on a different case. A half-automatic response that Matt could type while reading.
His ear twitched. Five blocks away, down on 81st he heard an alarm. An ATM's alarm. It was hard to get a picture of what was going on down there.
A pair of powerful hydraulics retracted and tore an ATM out of the ground. That was weird. A pair of equally as powerful hydraulics then extended and lifted a person 20 feet off the ground while he carried the ATM. That was weirder.
The guy walked slowly, like balancing on a set of stilts. It wasn't exactly imposing, but it wasn't idle either. Each step sent a small quake through the ground, cars would drive up and honk to try and get past and he would step on them and their frames would crumple underneath him.
Matt didn't think that the police would have trouble with an exceptionally tall man, but with firepower like that someone could definitely get hurt. He was wondering if he could afford to hold off on his reports and replies until tomorrow. Actually he was already in the process of standing up and pulling his suit off, when he heard a thwip and someone new was flying in.
He easily recognized Spider-Man, by the web technology and the mannerisms, though it was hard to be entirely sure from just the sound of things happening in the distance. It was also hard because, Matt had to admit, the kid worked fast. He swung onto the scene, blabbing away while he worked but still, within seconds the stilt man was wrapped tightly in adhesive webbing.
He started falling. Matt jerked for the door, but Spider-Man was on that too, catching him in a net between two buildings. The police were arriving now. The stilt man was apprehended in the cleanest way possible. Nothing for Matt to worry about, he supposed.
He sat back down and tried to remember where he left of with his reply.
Matt heard Foggy's footsteps coming back from the bathroom. He opened the door and walked back in and saw Matt frozen at his typewriter.
"Something the matter?" he asked.
"No, just – got distracted and lost my place."
"Oh. Is this the motion to dismiss on the MacMillan case?"
"Nah, I'm gonna finish this and then get to that and then, probably call it a night."
"Alright. Take care of yourself, man."
"Yeah, you too. See you tomorrow."
"You mean it this time?"
"Yes, Foggy, I will see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow then." Foggy gave him a pat on the shoulder and walked out.
Five blocks away, Matt heard the officers pulling the hydraulics off of the stilt man and ushering him into the back of a cruiser. Good. Nothing to worry about. Jessica was right, this whole thing with Mysterio and The Hand, it was all behind him now and he should really focus on his work.
He took another moment to reread what he last wrote with his fingers and then continued typing.
11:58 pm
Jessica was back on . For reasons that were beyond her. She was bored and it was late and there was nothing to do and a gross curiosity pulled her back in.
Newest threads were about New York again. Certainly there were super nutjob attacks in LA or Vegas or wherever.
A guy called Stilt-Man tried to run off with an ATM. Stilt-Man. Jessica looked through the cell phone pictures and mugshots of the guy. He looked like a Stilt-Man. Dumbass extendo legs. Like surely if the cops showed up before Spider-Man they'd just shoot him out of the air, right?
'all that power and he wastes it on petty theft? he should've gone after hawkeye or one of the weaker avengers or something' What a ringing endorsement.
Immediate response to that, 'An ATM isn't petty, that's like grand larceny on some level.'
Jessica responded to that one, 'He's right.' Anonymously of course.
The rest of the thread kind of just followed that trend. Should've fought the Avengers, should've fought the Defenders, should've gone full radical anarchist and blew up some shit. These people really did not appreciate a guy with stupid powers just trying to make a living.
She clicked out of that thread. Nothing much interesting happening in there.
What else was new? A few threads down was one that was just titled, 'Tomorrow's the day boys'.
Oh god was one of these freaks about to go on a shooting spree? She clicked on that one.
No comments. No messages. Looks like the thread was too new. The body of the post was just 'Who's ready for a new world order lads'
Jess... didn't want to just leave that one alone. She put out a reply. 'What's happening tomorrow?'
Refresh. Refresh. Refresh. Couple more replies coming in now. Most of them were the same vagueties, a couple statements sounded like... something. 'Cut off one head and two more will grow back in its place.' That wasn't menacing at all. Someone responded to Jessica's question. 'He doesn't know' and then a drawing of a really smug chick.
Refresh. Refresh.
Someone sent her a private message.
'Hey, saw your understandable confusion lmao. You may just be a lowly anon' thanks buddy 'but I saw you around some other threads earlier. Just try to keep this on the DL.' And then a link to somewhere else on the site. She followed that. It was another thread, though one with a little lock next to the title, though she could still comment. 'Hydra in Switzerland Masterpost [COMPLETE]'.
That wasn't the combination of words she expected to see.
Jessica's eyes glazed over, she skimmed over the page but lost interest pretty quickly. Rumors were going around that Hydra had managed to get some kind of foothold in the Swiss government or something. All of this seemed so far above her paygrade it was insane.
The comments were, obnoxious. 'Hail Hydra', 'Cut off one head' etc. etc. They were just spouting the same copy paste catchphrases.
One guy was like 'I hate the Tony Starks of the world just as much as anyone but does it bother anyone else to be supporting literal nazis like this?' and most of the responses were like 'they're not nazis dude' or the more informative 'You can't just call everyone you don't like a nazi.'
Jessica had no idea what any of this meant or what was evening happening tomorrow, but that was her morbid curiosity sated and that whole page closed out of.
6:21 am
Colleen finished her morning calisthenics, moved over to where her coffee was brewing and turned on the tv while she sipped from the still steaming mug.
She turned on the tv, turned to the morning news, and then proceeded to pay it as little attention as possible.
"-until the Avengers' Spider-Man arrived on the scene to quickly apprehend him, as seen in this footage," cell phone footage started playing of someone looking up at a guy walking past on gigantic, silver-tubed legs before a small red blur swung in and webbed him up in a second and then left. "The perpetrator, Wilbur Day, is still in questioning. More news on this story as it develops."
"And where are the Avengers?" the other host picked up. "Well, information is still coming in, but several eyewitnesses report that their jet was seen flying east just after midnight last night. Keep this information in mind when making short term plans-"
She flipped over to a different channel. Two personable morning show hosts were talking across a table at each other.
"-the entire Avengers just packed up and left New York? Like the entire Avengers?"
"The entire whole Avengers."
"Y'all can't even leave us Hawkeye or something? You can't spare us a Hawkeye?"
"Leave Falcon behind or something. How much is he really doing, ya know?"
"I mean, I wouldn't be saying this normally, but New York's been crazy these past couple weeks. We had that building fall on Luke Cage and his girlfriend. We got whoever this guy is," an image appeared behind her of that Wilbur Day guy, "stepping on cars and ripping up ATMs and stuff. And Spider-Man stopped him and all, but ya know where Spider-Man is right now? On a plane to Germany or Russia or something."
"It just seems like – it just seems like a really volatile time for the Avengers to just leave without leaving behind any protection. I mean, I know New York isn't the only city in the world, but still, they've got their headquarters upstate, we were the ones hit in both the attack of 2012 and the Thanos invasion, it just feels like-"
Colleen turned the tv off. Can't anyone talk about anything else anymore?
11:37 am
Luke finished his morning jog and stopped at a local coffee place. Good service, good coffee, Luke knew the owner's mom and she was a nice lady, and he was a nice kid.
He went with a decaf. He had just come back from a run, his heartrate didn't need to be any higher.
Luke took his coffee and sat by the window. As he drank, he stared out at the crowds on the sidewalk, people walking either which way, mingling, loitering, jaywalking. Luke was well aware, that this habit of his was tied directly to his image. People saw him as the ever vigilant protector of Harlem. Always keeping an eye out for trouble. In actuality he just liked people-watching.
He watched the kid with the skateboard try to grind on the curb and trip and stumble and try to play it off like nobody saw it. In all likelihood, nobody cared, but kids are always self-conscious about these things. He watched the guy in a full suit and tie, briefcase at his side and everything, but seemingly not wearing a shirt underneath. Luke wondered if that was just an accident or if he had some ill intentions for later today. He watched a guy with a thick beard and shaggy coat go about yelling at everyone he could see passing him on the sidewalk, almost all of whom walked by him without sparing a second look. He kept pointing down and motioning to the ground, like he was angry about the pavement itself.
Across the street, on the second floor of a construction site, there was a worker leaning over the railing. He motioned back for a friend to come over. Both of them peered down at Luke, their heads bobbed around like pigeons trying to get a good look at him. Then they waved down, trying to get his attention. He waved back, wanting to be nice. They made a lot of motions trying to communicate, making fun of the guy yelling about the ground and shoving each other and giving Luke a few thumbs up.
Then they both paused. There was a crashing sound from the end of the street, but they were in a better position to see what it was than Luke. Whatever it was, their eyes were glued to it. Whatever it was, it seemed like it was coming this way.
People on the sidewalks stopped, looked back, and then ran off, more than a few of them giving a scream. That was enough to get Luke out of his seat.
And then finally it made its way to him. A slate gray prison bus tore by, Luke caught a single glimpse of the three men in the front, and recognized one of them. It swerved off the road and hit the under-construction building with a fishtail before course correcting back onto the street.
Luke rushed out as one of the workers was knocked over the edge of the railing. Arms out, and just in time, he caught the guy before he hit the ground. Had to remember to slow him down, otherwise hitting his unbreakable hands would probably be worse than just crashing into the concrete.
"Hey," the guy said. "Are you going to do something about that?"
"You're welcome." Never change New York. "Yeah. Yeah I think I'm going to do something about that."
He ran off, following the prison bus.
11:39 am
Matt was in the middle of typing up a deposition when his ear twitched. Heavy crashing headed in a straight line through Harlem.
"Hey, Foggy, can you turn on the news?"
"Uh, yeah? Sure?" He clicked a remote and the tv set hanging in the corner.
Less than a moment of static and then "-high speed chase through South Harlem. The three escaped convicts are considered armed and highly dangerous, with several enhanced on board, civilians are advised to remain in their homes."
Foggy sighed. "Well. Go ahead and say it."
"...I should really go and help with this."
"Yeah. Yep. Okay."
"Are you okay with that?"
"What am I gonna say, no? Like O'Grady's property case is more important than that, whatever that is?"
"Really sorry about this, Fog."
"Just go handle it."
Matt was already rushing out the door, "I owe you!"
11:40 am
"Sharon, you've got to be kidding me with that form," Colleen said. "My cat could see through an approach like that. And Jamie, you plod so hard, you're the loudest person walking in this entire park, how would I not be able to tell you were following me?"
"Sorry, sensei," Colleen's morning class bowed and apologized. The whole, 'try to ambush me around the city' lesson was maybe a bit antiquated at this point, but it was unique, it was engaging, and it's what most of her students wanted to do now that she was also the Iron Fist and a superhero and stuff. And a lesson on practicality like this needed a firm hand.
"There's no apologizing you guys. Now, I will say, your strikes had a lot of oomph behind them, I'm very impressed with the hand-to-hand portion of this exercise, but mobility and movement is also important. How you approach a fight is as much a deciding factor as what you do in it."
"Yes, sensei."
"Alright, next what we're going to do is-"
Something crashed into something behind her. She spun on her heels, hand already on her blade's hilt. What she saw was a chunk of the corner of a convenience store tore out and about 5 cop cars full siren blaring after whatever had done it.
"Uh, class dismissed, have a good day, stay safe," Colleen ran off after the sirens.
11:41 am
Jessica was bored out of her skull. Sitting on a fire escape, watching through the window across the street. The guy she'd been hired to tail was talking to his solid 7 of a lawyer and they'd been flirting and making moony eyes at each other for the better part of an hour. Jess wished they'd just start banging on her desk so she could get her pictures and go home already.
They got into position. Pressed right up next to each other. She started tugging his tie loose. Jessica got her camera ready.
A prison bus and like 6 or 7 cop cars shot past underneath. She jumped, they jumped, everyone was so thoroughly spooked by whatever the fuck had just happened that they all forgot all about that moment. The guy was already running out the door.
What the fuck was that about?
She hopped the railing and fell to the ground. Footing was kind of weird, but she was drunk. And she walked it off anyways.
She followed the sounds of sirens, it was a skill she had unfortunately become pretty good at. There was a weird... dip in the crowds as she made her way through the streets. She'd heard once that when a tsunami is coming, the tide suddenly goes way far away and then all the sudden a giant wave appears. It was like that. A lot of people running away and then, all of the sudden, the streets were empty. Not a soul except herself. And then as she turned a corner, there was the flood. A massive crowd surrounding a police barricade. She tried to stand on her toes to see over it, but everyone in the back was doing that, so she didn't get much.
Jessica's plan then was to back up, take stock of the situation, and then probably go home. She wasn't exactly an ambulance chaser, the incident with Kara and Berkhart had her on edge, but if this wasn't related to any of that, then she didn't need to bother.
Or at least she thought she didn't. As she was backing away she glanced up and spotted Colleen jumping across rooftops, clambering up fire escapes, generally heading for right across the barricade and into no man's land.
Something gross bubbled up in the pit of Jessica's stomach. This wasn't weird, this wasn't weird at all. Colleen was always running into big disaster areas. But Jessica couldn't shake the feeling.
So instead of just leaving like a sensible person she instead pushed through the crowd to make it to the front. More than a few people got knocked to the ground when they wouldn't get out of her way. She was about to lift up the barricade and walk past, but the sane part left in Jessica's brain told her that getting shot sucked and there were cops holding the line here.
"Hey," she yelled out the nearest boy in blue. "I need to get through here."
"Sorry ma'am, we can't let anyone through right now it's dangerous."
"Can you at least tell me what's going on."
He looked over to his partner before answering. "A couple supers escaped from a prison upstate. We've got the situation under control, but we need your cooperation right now."
Supers escaping from prison. And Jessica supposed her luck wasn't good enough for these to be any old random supers who decided to come tear up Manhattan after escaping prison upstate.
"I need to get through," she said again. "I live down here, I need to get back home."
"Ma'am, please, just give us some time to resolve the situation."
His partner looked over, probably at the commotion Jessica was making. "Hey, isn't she one of those superhero types?" she said.
The first cop looked back at her. Then at Jess. "Is she?"
"She was the one who uh..." she snapped her fingers to try and remember. "She took down like... some bad guys. Or something. She was on tv once, I recognize the jacket and the attitude."
Now that's the kind of respect for citizen lives that they drill into you in the academy.
The cop gave a deep huff and looked Jessica up and down. "Well, I don't know how much you can do to help, but if you really want to lend a hand..."
When did Jessica ever mention helping. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just don't shoot me."
She vaulted over the barricade, ignored the renewed yelling from behind her, and walked down the deserted street.
The prison bus sat on its side in the middle of the street. A little dinged, big dent in the roof, but not too damaged. Not yet at least. Jessica jumped up onto its side. Looked down through the windows. Dead empty. The door had been torn off completely.
She hopped off the other side and continued down the street.
Something sat at the far end of her vision. At first she thought it was a shadow, but it wasn't, like, attached to anything. It wasn't on the ground or on... anything. Just sat in the middle of the air. She thought it might've been a floater in her eye but it didn't move with her gaze. It was something actually just stuck in the middle of the air.
She approached. Cautiously. Ready for... whatever the fuck this thing was.
In the air right in front of a now abandoned 7-11 was a big black spot. She looked around at it from every angle. It was 2-dimensional. Trying to see it from the side, it was flatter than paper. Completely invisible when looked at from the right angle.
She went back from the front and reached out to touch the thing. Then she pulled back and put out her other arm. If she was about to lose something then she'd rather it be the left. There were a couple of sensations she was expecting, smooth stone, fur, searing pain, a rapid numbness. Instead she felt nothing, and her hand just kind of, slipped through the thing. Up the elbow was as far as she wanted to go, she reached around and grasped around on the inside of the spot, and didn't find anything, so she pulled her arm back out. Creepy.
There was another one just ahead, across the street. A third farther down.
What did Luke say? Matt fought some guy who made portals?
Shit fuck god fucking dammit.
"Colleen," Jess called out. "Yo Wing. Where you at."
No response. Jessica went in deeper. Coming to an intersection, she looked down the side street and saw the trail of black spots grow thicker. While there were only a couple where she was now, down this street there were about a dozen.
She turned and walked down it. Once the barricade she'd come through was out of sight, there wasn't another human person that she could see in any direction. For a regular person it'd be unnerving, for a New Yorker it was a completely alien feeling.
Jessica's eyes were constantly moving. It was an ordeal - and ultimately impossible - to keep her eyes on every single spot at every single moment. But she didn't trust any of this. As soon as her back was turned, she knew something would happen.
The spots clustered thicker at the mouth of an alleyway. She peered down. Straight shot to another street on the other side. And the whole thing was filled to the brim with these spots, even more on the other side.
This was a trap, this was definitely a trap. Jessica thought about how much this was blatantly a trap as she took a running start and leaped over the chain link fence dividing the two halves of the alley and came stutter-stepping to a stop on the other side.
Out here she was surrounded on all sides by black spots, taking up more of her vision than the buildings around her. She also saw another person, though not the one she expected.
"Luke?"
Luke Cage turned to look at her, equally confused. "Jessica? What are you doing here?"
She wanted to respond with 'I should be asking you that' but, no, it definitely made more sense for Luke to be at the center of a weird supervillain attack in Harlem than her. "I don't really know myself."
"Still thinking this is all over and behind us?"
"Fuck off."
Luke shrugged that off and nodded. "Noted."
Jessica's eyes couldn't stop wandering. Every one of these spots put her teeth on edge.
"I saw Colleen come through here earlier, have you seen-"
Poof clang. Huh?
It took Jessica a second to figure out what had just happened. There had been a sound like a burst of air and then metal on metal from, right next to her, where Luke was. There was another sound, like a burst of air, and as she looked over it was just Luke.
No, past Luke, but way past him, there were three men who had not been standing there moments before. By the powers of deduction, probably the three supers that had attacked Matt, Luke, and Colleen. There was an albino guy, covered in black spots, like the ones that hung in the air around them. No guesses for figuring out what he did. There was a burly one with a buzzcut, taller than the other two, with one hand pointing towards her, but instead of a hand there was the shape of a pistol in fleshy pink. That would be gunhands man, it was a lot less funny now that she was looking down the barrel. And then, situating himself back into place, was a crackhead looking guy, with greasy, slimy black hair pulled into a ponytail, poking out from underneath a silver bicycle helmet and black ski goggles. And with a pair of giant mechanical boots on his feet. By process of elimination, this was the fast guy.
Gunhands steadied his gun hand and took his shot. Jessica flinched and Luke moved to step in front of her, but a red blur flew down from the nearby rooftops and knocked his hand down. The bullet hit pavement. The blur flew back up.
Daredevil caught the baton as it returned to him. He then flipped down to the much shorter building next to him, bounced off a hot dog cart's umbrella, and landed on the ground next to Jessica.
"Hmm, weird," said the crackhead. He leaned forward.
Colleen ran forward, from where Jessica wasn't sure, but she was here now. And in a burst of air there was another clash of metal. Jessica hadn't even seen him move but the crackhead was now several meters closer with a pair of knives raised and crossed and blocking Colleen's unsheathed sword. Burst of air and he backed off.
Colleen took a few steps back, lined up with the three of them.
"Ah, good, we're all here now." Jessica wasn't sure who was talking. It was probably the albino, but... "Defenders of New York, I believe this is what you would call, round 2."
"What do you think you're going to do?" Luke shot back. "We kicked your asses 1v1 and now you're outnumbered."
"Butcher you like pigs, I hope," said the crackhead.
"Give up," Daredevil said. "Put your weapons down and this won't be a problem."
"Well, now that you've said it so politely." The albino shook his head. "I suppose it's back to prison for us, gentlemen."
Gunhands lifted his gun hand again. "My suggestion to you is make peace with whatever god you think is real."
"Jesus, edgy much," Colleen said. "Can we get to the part where we beat you into the ground already? Luke was right, you don't stand a chance."
"Beautiful," the albino said. "Perfect pre-fight banter, I'd expect nothing less from heroes of such caliber."
"Fuck the small talk," the crackhead said. "Let's just start the slaughter already."
"Then come at us." Luke got his fists up.
Jessica sighed and got her fists up as well. Goddamn superhero bullshit.
Gunhands flipped his arm around and pointed a sub-machine gun at them and opened fire. Jessica took a moment to cover her head, which now that she was down here, she realized wouldn't actually accomplish anything. But whatever. Luke stepped between them and got wide, the open air was filled with the sound of ricochets.
There was a burst of air and the crackhead was gone. The albino stepped back into one of his big spots and disappeared as well.
"Watch your six," Daredevil said as he ran past. One thrown baton and he knocked away gunhand's aim and a moment later he crashed into him with a flying kick.
It took a moment for it to even pierce Jessica's skull what 'her six' even was, but in her confusion she did turn around and see the crackhead tensing while pointed straight at her. Two stiff arms out, a burst of air later, and she was in the unfortunate position of grasping at his gross, sweaty prison jumpsuit.
"Stop doing that," she said. She lifted him overhead, continued into the motion, and hurled him across the street. He hit hard, fell on his neck. Didn't seem bothered by it though. He was already scrambling back up to his feet.
A little farther down Luke and Daredevil were brawling with gunhands. He brought up a pistol, Matt twisted out of the way just as it fired. And Luke came up from behind, grabbed his hand and yanked it back.
And while she was looking away something hit Jessica over the back of the head.
"What the – fuck." She looked back. The albino was waving back at her as he popped back into a spot.
Jess massaged the back of her head and swore some more cause it made her feel better.
"Jess look out!" Colleen yelled.
Jessica whirled around to see the crackhead, already on his feet and knives brandished. Colleen lunged in front of her and there was a burst of air. In the next instant, his knife clashed against her sword, a few hot sparks flying off from the collision, and then Colleen was shunted back. She stabbed the tip of her blade down into the pavement to try and slow down. More sparks, the grinding sound hurt Jessica's ears.
"Thanks," Jessica said.
"No problem." Colleen ran back in. One slash of her sword had the crackhead backing up again. One burst of air and he shot backwards and slammed into the wall behind him. Then a second one and he was gone.
Something rushed past Jessica's ear and nicked into her shoulder. She didn't realize she was bleeding until she touched the wound.
A blur of orange and white and silver exploded out of one of those big spots hanging in the air, and by the time Jessica had registered seeing it she'd already been cut in her side.
"God-"
Jessica stumbled back. Not really tactically or with a purpose, her brain just wanted to get out of the situation and her legs seemed to agree.
It didn't help much. Two bursts of air and Jess was hit with a one-two divided by some measurement of time too small to bother knowing the name of. They felt like punches. Strong punches. Like a 6 out of 10. And Jess had a high bar for a 10.
At this point her eyes were going crazy, trying to latch onto any ounce of movement they could find and ultimately doing way more harm than good when they moved on too fast for her to actually see what she was looking at.
There was a burst of air and a blur of motion from one of the floating spots and despite the fact that Jessica was looking right at it when it happened, she didn't have enough time to do anything but squeeze her eyes shut.
Ping.
Well that didn't sound her intestines spilling out of her stomach. She peeked one eye open enough to see Daredevil's red baton fly off behind her and the crackhead collapse backwards onto the sidewalk. She turned back. Matt did a dumb flip off the nearest banister and landed next to her. Without looking, though Jess supposed, why would he need to, he threw the baton again to his left, disrupting gunhand's aim and giving Luke some room to back up and rejoin the group.
Gunhands let his hands stay down and caught his breath, down on the other end of the street. With a burst of air and a blur of movement, the crackhead was standing next to him. The albino then stepped out of a spot to join them.
"You guys aren't doing too well," Colleen said.
"Yes, I suppose we aren't," the albino said back. "I suppose then, it is time to stop, ah, fooling around. It's been fun to watch but, honestly, trying to keep track of all of you at once, it's giving me a headache."
And with that, he stepped back into a spot. Jessica never knew what the bad guys meant by this whole, 'no more fooling around' business. Like no one fights bad for a bit just for shits and giggles.
The crackhead shot forward again, Jessica flinched back but nothing hit her except for a slipstream. She looked up. He was gone. That was confusing.
"Shit!" Colleen yelled out. Jessica turned towards her.
Colleen was splayed out, face down on the ground. Gunhands, now with his normal hands, was holding her by the ankle. He gave a yank. She flew back and disappeared into one of the black spots.
"Colleen!" Luke charged him. Gunhands jumped back into the spot himself. Luke barreled in after him.
And then there were two. Jessica turned to Matt. "Can we not do the whole splitting up thing. I really don't want to do that."
Matt nodded. "I'm with you."
And as soon as he said that, his head jerked back around. One baton was already up, and just in time as he was, all of the sudden, clashing weapons with the crackhead.
"Shit." Jessica took a few cautious steps back.
Then someone grabbed her by the neck of her jacket and pulled her back.
It wasn't gunhands, cause the tug wasn't that strong. Like a 2 out of 10. But it was enough. Enough to make her take a few, stumbling steps back. And she felt something odd wash over her and then she was staring into one of those big floating black spots.
"Matt. Matt!" Jessica jumped back through.
No Matt. No crackhead. No anyone. She was still alone, and not where she'd just been either. This was a different stretch of street, with different stores and different signs and different turns.
So that's what he meant.
12:32 pm
Colleen rolled to a stop. Sharp gravel jabbed into her arms and her side. She pushed herself to her feet, slow and steady and still catching her breath from what just happened.
Now, now that she was thinking about it, she didn't remember there being any gravel pits on the street she had just been in. So Colleen got up, took a look around, and saw she was about 20 feet higher than she had been just moments ago. On top of a roof she didn't recognize. Absolutely alone but surrounded by a dozen of those creepy floating spots.
Colleen drew her sword and held it out front. Defensive stance. Ready to swat away any incoming attack. A slash from this position wouldn't deal a whole of damage, but it would have to be enough.
It was very hard to watch your own back. Colleen was turning on her heels every half second, the gravel crunched underneath her sneakers, she'd turn, study one of the spots, not see any movements, turn to the next one. Over and over and over and nothing was happening and it was driving Colleen up the wall.
It was only just as she was beginning to think that she wasn't under attack anymore that anything happened. Burbank, the man with the prosthetics that had attacked her at the outdoor market before, stepped out of one of the black holes. His left hand was a normal hand, his right hand was a pistol pointed directly at Colleen's head.
Colleen tensed. Her eyes were so focused she could feel them bulging out of her head. Staring directly at the muzzle of the gun. The second it flashed, she needed to be ready to react. One wrong move and he would use that opening.
She waited. And waited. And waited.
Colleen had no idea what he was waiting for. For her to make the first move? Maybe he was thinking the same thing she was. She risked a glance up, away from the barrel of the gun, and towards his face. Burbank gave her a smirk.
There was a rush of air and a blur of movement and a stinging pain in her cheek. She looked to where the movement went, and just saw the black void of a hole in space. Just as quick, she looked back to Burbank. Gun still pointed at her. Both hands kept a grip on her sword. She didn't need to check. She knew she'd been cut.
That same blur of movement, Joss Shappe, flew out from the hole just behind Burbank's shoulder, and by the time Colleen had even registered seeing it, an impact rocked her chin and knocked her back a few steps. There was a burst of air, another impact slammed her over the back of her head, and Shappe was immediately gone again.
Colleen knew, from every source of training she'd ever gone through, that panic was the killer in a fight to the death like this. As soon as she started panicking, she'd make costly mistakes, leave herself wide open, and get destroyed by a calmer opponent. And that knowledge was the only thing keeping her from flying off. She was faced, at such a disadvantage, by one opponent with the range on her, another with a wide speed lead.
She knew what she needed now. Her one advantage. The iron fist. If she pushed all that energy into the ground, she could send all the gravel flying into the air, it would trip up Shappe's next attempt to run in and provide her enough cover to get clear of Burbank's aim. Shifting one hand to just below her sword so she could ball it in a fist, she took a deep breath, channeled her chi down to her hand, then shot straight down and launched a punch into the roof of the building.
Her knuckles hurt.
Her eyes tore from Burbank in disbelief. She tried channeling her chi again. No glow in her fist, no emanation of power, she just looked down at her normal, regular hand.
"Wha-"
What was wrong? A million ideas rang through her head. Had someone done something? Was there poison in that cut? Did she do something wrong? Did she lose her muscle memory in channeling or physical form?
One answer resonated back to her. The image of blood slowly leaking from under that cheap Mysterio costume.
While Colleen was thinking about this, she neglected the fact that she was surrounded by two men who wanted her dead. There was a blur of movement that, Colleen wasn't even in the right headspace to acknowledge, and suddenly there was a kitchen knife sticking out of her stomach.
Her vision pulsed. The pain hadn't hit quite yet, but even before she felt anything her body had given up on her. Her knees buckled and her back gave out and she just collapsed back onto the roof. Heavy breathing. Heavy breathing. Oh, there the pain hit. Her hands gave up on keeping her sword close and instead went to clutch at the wound, for all the good it would do.
At the far end of her tunneling vision, she saw Burbank looming over her. Pistol pointed directly between her eyes. Her thought processes were starting to leave her now, or at least she hoped they were, as her first cognizant thought after realizing this fact was the idea that maybe she deserved it.
Burbank just stared down into her eyes for another second. Then his aim went lower and a white hot bullet tore through the far side of her chest instead. She screamed out in pain, since there wasn't much else for her to do. Then Burbank dug his boot underneath her shoulder and kicked her over, off the roof.
She fell. Turned in midair. Not from any conscious decision, just through momentum and wind resistance. As she turned, she saw that she was falling down into one of those black spots in the air. She kinda thought that, like, she'd enter some otherworldly plane, drift through a space without gravity or something, that something would slow her down and catch her.
Instead she passed right through, hit the ground, and broke her arm.
12:32 pm
Luke Cage came barreling out of the portal-thing aggressive, arms swinging. He didn't know what was gonna be on the other side of this so he went with the best defense being a good offense kind of approach. He didn't want to give Burbank any time to try anything, especially since Colleen was in danger.
But as soon as he passed through the darkness of that hole in the air, he didn't see Burbank or Colleen. Or anyone really.
It took a second for him to realize where he was. The Willis Avenue Bridge. Middle of the road too, but no oncoming traffic. At least he was still in Harlem, but he was blocks away from where the fight first broke out. And he had no idea where Colleen was now.
On the Bronx end, there was a police barricade in front of a line of cars and an angry mob of people. That was good, at least. He heard a couple shouts of his name. Probably people trying to make their way back home.
He should probably go over there and talk this over with the police. Let them know what was happening. Or at least, he was going to. There was a spray of gunfire, a familiar pinging sensation in his back. He turned and saw Burbank stepping out of one of the portals, with his left hand in its machine gun configuration.
Luke tried to get wide, soak up as many bullets as he could, while yelling down at the barricade. "Go! Get out of here! Get down!"
There were a few screams, and a ripple of motion, but it didn't look like many people were leaving. People always had to watch.
Alright, the plan was this. Bridge the gap but don't make any moves yet. Luke didn't want crossfire to hit any of the pedestrians behind him. As soon as he saw his opening, he'd get in Burbank's range, keep him from aiming in this general direction at all, and take him down. Luke got his fists up and started sidling forward. Burbank steadied his gunhand on his normal hand. Crumpled bullets gathered around Luke's feet, discarded shells fell at Burbank's.
Click click. Hiss. The machine gun swung back into his arm.
Luke made his move. He swat away the machine gun with a backhand then got even closer and hit Burbank with an elbow to the chin. Grabbed him by the shoulders to keep him from getting too far away. Knee to the gut, knee to the gut, then got one hand on his chest and shoved him back. That should've been enough to lay him out. His whole body hitting the iron bars on the side of the bridge would knock any normal guy out cold.
Burbank though, stuck both hands out behind him and caught himself. His body never touched the side of the bridge. But as he pulled himself from it, his fingers left behind deep grooves in the metal.
Burbank spun his right arm, drawing his pistol and aiming. Not at Luke, but at the crowd down the street. Luke ran in and yanked his arm straight up. Three shots went into the metal overhead. And while Luke was doing that, Burbank laid a hook into his face.
It actually hurt.
Burbank swung two gut punches into Luke's abs. Each one knocked Luke back a step, but keeping in close was still his priority. Luke swung wide, bring his hand around to clap Burbank on the ear. But Burbank snuck his arm in and stopped the swing cold.
And then something rammed into him from the side at an absurd speed.
Luke's attention went off Burbank. Probably a mistake but at this point he was just confused. Staggering back was, in his pads and helmet and big silver boots, Joss Shappe, the speed freak or whatever he called himself.
While his attention was off Burbank, he hit Luke's cheek with a cross. Then Shappe shot forward with a burst of air and slammed his head into Luke's chest. Back and forth, they pushed Luke, until his back was up against the metal bars on the opposite side.
Burbank went for a straight to Luke's chest at the exact same time that Shappe charged into him. He felt the metal behind him bend. They hit him again and it buckled outward. One last hit, and it tore, and Luke fell back, off the Willis Avenue Bridge.
He didn't hit water. If only. Instead he slammed into the concrete island that kept up the bridge's central support. And even down here, he was surrounded by those goddamn black spots.
Luke slowly pushed himself to his feet. The concrete under him now had a spider web of cracks, marking his landing point. Luke was sore all over. But he wasn't out of the fight yet. He didn't have unbreakable skin for nothing.
"Ah, Mr. Cage, right on cue. I appreciate punctuality in these things."
"Huh?" Luke turned and caught a glimpse of John Ohnn, the super who made all these spots in the first place.
He caught a glimpse as Ohnn jumped up, wrapped his arms around Luke's throat, and tugged him backwards. One misstep, one slip from being tired and caught unaware, and the two of them collapsed back into Harlem River.
Luke struggled and squirmed in Ohnn's grasp. Ohnn also struggled and squirmed. It was taking all of it out of him to keep that vice on Luke's neck and pull him below the surface.
Luke had no idea what Ohnn's plan here was. He was going to run out of air before Luke did, thrashing like he was. But it wasn't like Luke wanted either of them to drown. He'd like to just elbow this guy in the ribs and get them both out of here. But being in the water was slowing down his swings, and whenever he connected with something, his elbow or his shoulder or his boot or whatever just kind of, sunk in.
Luke paused. He really wanted to catch his breath, but for obvious reasons that wasn't really feasible at the moment. But as he paused, he noticed.
Ohnn's chest still had a rhythmic rise and fall. It was faster than normal, but Luke could feel it underneath him. Somehow, Ohnn was still breathing. And for all his great power, Luke couldn't do that.
Panic set in. Luke started to properly thrash and that was enough to shake Ohnn off of him. He swam for the surface, but he was a heavy guy, in big, thick boots and a jacket. And he couldn't tell how far away the surface even was. His vision went dark. His lungs were on fire. He couldn't take anymore.
His mouth opened and he sucked in cold water.
12:32 pm
Matt Murdock saw Harlem through a kaleidoscope.
He recalled having a similar thought back when he fought Ohnn in his apartment. That it was like seeing his apartment through a kaleidoscope. This was entirely different. With a few of these distortions placed around the perimeter of his apartment, getting a map of the whole thing was hard cause the barriers became jagged and copied over each other and undefined. But with so many of the centralized distortions spread out across blocks, not surrounding a target but just floating in space, what Matt saw when he tried to map out everything was... disorienting to say the least.
There was still a bit of that jaggedness. Walls taking unnatural angles and jittering out of and then back into place. But Matt could also feel his way through those distortions, and what was on the other side of them. What Matt could see was essentially, dozens of Harlems overlaid on top of each other at different angles. With dozens of Matts and dozens of Lukes and dozens of Johns and no way to tell which was the 'real' versions. And that was a bad situation to be in, because he really wanted to know how to regroup and regain the numbers advantage.
Matt was suddenly surrounded. Hundreds of identical figures in a tight ring, each one overlapping and melding with the one next to it. The man with the mechanical boots. Easy to guard against if you knew which direction he was coming from. But that had gotten a lot harder.
Matt had heard a fun physics fact once, back in high school. The reason that side mirrors in cars say that objects may be closer than they appear is because as light rebounds off of reflected surfaces and into the human eye, the eye judges distance by both the distance from the object to the mirror and the distance from the mirror to the eye. It was a concept that Matt hadn't had much use for in the meantime, but it somehow stuck in his brain for all these years and refused to make way for more important information.
That was the closest comparison he had to how he could pick out the real man from the reflections. Most of these images of the man, they appeared right next to Matt, but they still 'looked' like they were far away. Fuzzy, unfocused, and faint. Some more than others. Picking the real one out of the lineup came down to finding two or three or four that were closest and going back and forth or, more often, going with his gut. Matt had his guess. No time left for betting. He just prepared his guard.
There was a burst of air from blocks away, in the moment it was hard to tell which direction it had come from. And in the next instant the man was on him.
Matt secured his baton with both hands, and even then the impact was harsh. He was pushed back, and only barely kept his footing firm. As soon as the opportunity showed itself, he pushed back. The man was surprised. Wide open. Matt slammed the baton into his face, then followed through with a right hook. Took a spinning jump and slammed his face with two kicks, both feet, one after the other. He hit the ground low, forced to straighten back up, then grabbed him by his ratty shirt and shoved him forward, back through the distortion. And then it shifted and he was gone.
Matt ran to the nearest alley. Or at least, close enough. It took some feeling about. He kicked off of a dumpster and onto a fire escape. Started clambering up floor after floor. What he wanted right now was the high ground. To be above all the distortion so he could hear everything just a little better.
The higher he got, the more the noise flattened. The mirages, the ghosts of people fading in and out from his view, turned to static. Much easier to distinguish. But then, harder to keep track of what was coming in on him.
There was a fuzzy, staticy, flat image of the man with the prosthetics approaching. Multiple actually, in the exact same ring pattern as the man with the boots. When, in a split second, he suddenly became a lot more solid. A lot more real. He flipped his left arm and replaced it with a sub-machine gun, and pointed up at Matt.
There was no click of a trigger being pulled. That threw Matt off. He was focused on so many other things that he neglected to notice that. By the time Matt heard the bullet click into the chamber and the hammer strike down, it had already fired. And it was quickly followed by more.
One quick burst, partway through Matt had been able to duck behind the railing, but there was really no cover up here. Most of the bullet ricocheted off of the metal grating that was the floor, one grazed the side of Matt's arm. It would certainly left a bruise, but his body armor kept it from tearing into his flesh.
Then a second burst. He was trying to push Matt out of cover. And it was working. Matt couldn't afford to sit up here and be a still target.
There was a third burst, and Matt needed to act. As soon as it ended, he threw his baton, bounced it off the wall opposite of him to fly back and hit the man in the chest. His aim was thrown off for the fourth burst. Flew into the street next to him instead. Matt pushed off the railing of the fire escape onto the wall opposite. His boots caught onto the brick. Just a bit. Just enough to push off again. With as much momentum as he could preserve, Matt jumped off the wall and caught the roof. He had only barely pulled his legs over when the man on the street below recovered enough to fire again. Now Matt had the entire building to cover him.
The man on the ground grumbled and stepped back through a distortion. And he quickly disappeared as well.
Matt had a moment to catch his breath. But he didn't want to wait here long.
He took another scan of the city. He was still plagued by fuzzy, confusing overlays, but underneath that was a much clearer image of where everything was. The farther away he got, the harder it was to separate what was really there and what was a reflection from somewhere else.
The only person clearly in range was Luke, a few blocks away on the bridge over Harlem River. That man with the prosthetics appeared through a distortion near him.
Matt took off in that direction. He stuck to the rooftops to keep a hold on that strong visual. Normally he was much faster than this. But the shaky radar made him cautious. He didn't want to fall again.
From up high he could see what was happening a little more clearly, the scene only got clearer and clearer the closer he got to it. He saw Luke fight with the man with the prosthetics, then the man with the boots showed up and the fight turned one sided. Luke was cornered. Matt picked up his pace a little further. He saw Luke get pushed off. Concerning, but Luke was a tough guy. He didn't hear anything serious. At least not from this distance.
And then Luke got pulled into the water. Matt wasn't sure what happened after that. Except that John came up a minute later, and Luke didn't.
Matt poured on the speed. There was no longer any time to lose. He was only a block away from the river at this point but it still felt so far away. John clambered back onto the island under the bridge and disappeared into a distortion.
Matt placed one boot on the lip of the last building on the block and pushed off. Then pushed off of a lightpole to make it across the street and the grass to the river. And he dove in the water.
If things were clear up on the rooftops and hazy on the ground, they were worse than murky under the water. Matt's senses went haywire. Smell and taste were out completely, and sound travelled faster down here. It felt like Luke was right beneath him, but he reached out and felt nothing. And surely the river wasn't 2 feet deep.
So Matt pointed himself and he just kept swimming. And swimming. And as he swam he swung his hands out in front of him feeling around for wherever Luke could be, despite the fact that he never seemed to be more than a few inches in front of him, no matter how deep he got.
Matt's lungs were beginning to buck. He had no idea how much farther he had to go and he had no idea when he would need to turn back or how far it was back to the surface. He felt sandwiched between the surface and Luke without being able to move any closer to either.
He felt something. The riverbed. A bit more feeling around, and he latched one hand on Luke's leg. He pushed that last bit forward and got his arms under Luke's and hoisted him up.
Then he pushed off. Straight up. His lungs were beginning to burn now. He should've been moving slower, he knew he probably was, but there was no way to tell. The surface felt like it was inches away from his fingertips. And the bed felt like it was right below his boots. The only thing he could do was paddle and kick up, and pray.
Matt had blacked out before. He knew what it felt like. But it was hard to visualize when he couldn't literally "black out". He could feel his consciousness slip away as his body screamed to breath, but there wasn't that blackness creeping into his vision, telling him when he was getting close. The only thing that would tell Matt when he ran out was if he ran out, and then he'd be joining Luke.
A hand broke the surface. And Matt had suddenly hit the finish line without realizing. His head broke first and began gulping down deep breaths of air. He still felt light in the head but he was alive and he was still up and he wasn't done working yet. He paddled to the shore. Away from Harlem, towards the Bronx. Shoved Luke onto land and then climbed up himself. He knelt next to Luke's still unconscious body. His lungs were full of water. Heart was still going but it was slowing down every second. Matt started pushing down on his chest, rhythmic, practiced, precisely where and how strong he was supposed to. But something wasn't right. Luke's chest didn't yield an inch. It was like pushing down on a brick wall.
There was a heavy thud a few feet off. He turned to listen to it. That was Colleen, and that was a broken Humerus.
"Colleen!" he yelled out.
She groaned and lifted her head. "Ma- Daredevil?"
"Are you alright?"
"Y-" She winced. Matt could smell multiple open wounds all across her body. "I've been better."
"Can you get up?"
Painfully, she sidled up onto her knees. "Maybe?"
"Luke's – he needs help. He needs CPR but I- he's not- I need an iron fist."
Colleen's heartbeat spiked all the sudden. Her breathing got even more shallow.
"Colleen?"
"I- I – I can't-"
"What?"
"I can't- I can't! I can't. Not- I can't."
"You can't what, why can't you?"
"I can't do the iron fist right now Matt! I tried, I can't!"
"Shit," Matt muttered. "Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Okay. Come over here anyways."
Colleen pushed herself up to her feet and stumbled over. "I'm sorry Matt."
"I need you to give him mouth to mouth. I'm going to try the chest compressions again."
"Can you even get through his skin?"
"I can try."
Colleen looked at him. Looked down at Luke. Matt could tell she'd lost a bit of blood, probably wasn't feeling great in the head.
"Quickly."
"R- Right." She ducked back down onto her knees, steadied herself with her good hand, and put her mouth to Luke's. Deep breaths out pushed air back into Luke's lungs.
Matt brought his fists up. Braced himself for half a second, and then began punching. Full force, as hard as he could, down into Luke's chest.
Left. Right. Left. Right. The rhythm was the same but now he was striking like he was trying to knock someone's head off their shoulders.
Left. Right. Left. Right. He felt his knuckles crack and bleed under his gloves.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Luke's chest barely gave, but the impact was doing something. Matt began to shout with every swing. Any ounce of effort he had he gave to Luke, trying to jumpstart his heart while Colleen pushed his lungs to circulate.
Luke sat up. Knocked Colleen's head away while doing it. Immediately he was coughing and retching up water into his lap. Then he just started retching. And when he couldn't retch anymore he began to dry heave. No words, but they weren't needed right now. Matt leaned back. He could take one moment to catch his breath. Colleen did the same, but she more fell back.
"What the hell happened in there?" That was the voice of Misty Knight. She was approaching.
Matt jumped to his feet. Took a few steps back. Ready to book it if he needed to.
"We got separated," he said. "They took advantage of the homefield."
"I can-" Luke fell back into a coughing fit. "We can – go back in."
"Like hell you can," Misty said. "The both of you need to see an EMT. And I don't know what you're hiding under that suit, but let's be better safe than sorry."
"I'm fine," Matt said. "You take care of these two, I'm going back in."
"Absolutely not." She looked down at Luke. "Look, I let you and your friends in cause I trust you, and you're good at handling crazy shit like this. But if it comes down to civilians, which you all are, getting severely injured, I'm sending the cops in to do their jobs."
"Misty." Despite his coughing, Luke managed to stand up. "I know you're worried – but really – if you give me a moment – to catch my breath – I can still bring this back."
He pushed to walk past her. Misty pushed back with her metal arm. He buckled easily. "Luke. Stand down."
Luke had no response. Just hacking.
"And as for you-"
Misty turned to where Matt had been moments ago. He was already back crossing the bridge over to Harlem. Keeping out of sight, but still in earshot. His own earshot. Not hers.
"Shit," Misty said.
"Hey," Colleen mumbled from the ground. "If that EMT offer is still on the table, I'd be happy to accept it."
"...Shit." Misty kept a grasp on Luke with her metal arm, and helped Colleen to her feet with her other one. "Come on, both of you."
Luke wheezed and coughed and looked between the two of them? "Wait – where's Jess?"
12:50 pm
Jessica Jones was absolutely lost. She wasn't super familiar with Harlem to begin with, but being dumped in some random location? No, absolutely not, she was not finding Luke or Matt or Colleen, the best she could do is find her way home.
She kinda wanted to do just that.
But, her life never went so simply. Before she could make it back to a police barricade or something, the albino popped out of one of the big floating black spots in front of her.
"Oh good," she said. "Don't even have to work for this one."
"Ms. Jones," he said. "I've been looking all over for you. You really ought to learn to sit still."
Jessica responded by grabbing him by the shirt and lifting him off the ground. Her fist squinched into the fabric.
"...Why are you wet."
"Oh, it's not important."
"...Whatever. Look. I don't know what you think you're doing, I don't know what your whole fucking plan was, but now's the time to give it up."
"Because we're doing so poorly, I'm sure."
"Your boss is dead... I killed him myself. You're not going to get anything from this, it's over. Give up and go home. Or go to jail. I don't really care which."
"Ooh. You are a poor, poor liar Ms. Jones."
She snarled at him. "Read my lips asshole. He. Is. Dead."
"Oh, I believe you on that point. Or, rather, I believe, that you believe you."
Her eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at."
"Ah. My apologies. It was nothing. Forget I said anything."
Jessica responded by throwing him across the street into the nearest dumpster. He crashed into the side with an "Oof!" and fell to the ground in a slump.
He was barely getting to his feet again when Jessica walked over and had him once again in the air. "I'm going to ask you again. What are you playing at. What do you know about Berkhart. Where is he. What's he hiding. What's the plan here."
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" He shook his head slowly. "He wanted so much to be the one to tell you, I shouldn't, I won't. You're right, he is dead."
"Talk!" She gave him a shake. "Or you won't hit asphalt again until Queens."
"Please, Ms. Jones. I have a pounding headache and you are not helping with all this yelling and shaking. Give me one- one second."
She slammed his back against the brick wall of the building next to her. "No."
"Ahhh! One second. One second. Please, just give me- Ah, there she is."
"Stop with the fucking mindgames. What are you saying."
"I say what I meant, she finally showed up."
Jessica furrowed her brow. Then looked back behind her.
Kara Kilgrave walked out of one of the black spots. "Hey there, Jones."
Jessica froze, eyes wide. Then she moved to hurl the albino back at her.
"Ah ah ah!" She put her hands up. "Don't move!"
She froze for real that time. Not a single muscle twitched. The albino still suspended in the air. Watched as Kara walked towards her, dragging a baseball bat behind her.
"Could you uh," Kara said. "Turn back the other way. I need a clear shot, so..."
Jessica turned back. Face to face with the albino. She knew what was coming. It was plainly obvious. But she didn't want to move in the slightest, and she wanted to face this direction. She wanted these things more than she wanted anything else in this moment. Her only solace was the fact that the albino didn't have a face so she couldn't see whatever smug look he was giving her.
Then there was a sharp pain in the back of her skull and everything went black.