The youthful Web Slinger arrived at his initially planned destination, post-win. He crawled along the building's side, only to peer through the stained windows into a completely vacant office space.
"Shouldn't there still be like… equipment here?"
"Yes," Karen agreed. "This misfortune is most sudden. Searching for the latest news."
Peter dropped onto a lamppost just outside a local café. Wandering bystanders already sped off at the mere sight of this "Menace."
"Come on, guys," he threw his hands in the air, "Seriously?"
"Yo Parker!" A random New Yorker shouted from behind.
"Huh?" The gullible boy turned to the call, meeting the bright flash of a cell phone camera.
"Ha! Yuh looked!"
"Gah! Dammit," his disappointed head hung low.
"Everyone! It's Peter Parker!" The pedestrian continued to yell obnoxiously as he walked away. "Thanks for the snap, freak! I'll be sure to tag the Bugle!"
Another concerned citizen voiced her opinion and did so loudly, "Jameson knew you'd come for him! Just get out. Get out of our city!"
More joined the fold.
"You're no Avenger!"
"We believe Mysterio!"
"Justice for Beck!"
"Cape Killer!"
The angry mob was now threatening to call the authorities. Uncomfortable with all the negative attention, the Wall Crawler failed to conceive of any other course of action except to flee the scene.
"I'm sorry, Peter. But there's only more bad news," Karen informed saddenedly.
A video highlight of Jameson's latest podcast began to play in the upper right-hand corner of his HUD. Spider-Man landed on a rusted water tower to take it all in.
"Folks, as you may already know… I'm currently being sued, or should I say attacked by Stark Industries' very own Virginia Potts. Accusing the Bugle of spreading lies. Slander! My fellow listeners know that here at the humble Bugle we spread nothing but the hard hitting facts! Facts that are at times too much for some people to accept. I understand that, but it does not change the truth of the matter. And it definitely does not give gigantic conglomerates the right to silence said truth."
"You've gotta be kidding me with this guy," Peter muttered to himself as he expanded the video to full view.
"I know who you are, Potts." Pixelated images then appeared. "Surveillance footage shows what looks to be a suit of purple armor flying right over Upstate, New York. Then here again departing from an actual Stark facility! No doubt taking after her late husband, Sir Anthony- 'I Am Iron Man' -Stark." The highlight cut back to Jameson, fuming red with passion. "Who, need I remind you of his weapons dealing of an upbringing. These Avengers may proclaim themselves to be 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes', but don't be fooled, folks! They are the same group of dangerous individuals responsible for the unspeakable tragedy five years ago. The destruction to our fair city, twice! And the devastating collateral damage in several other nations. Berlin, Lagos, Sokovia, and, how can I almost forget, Washington!" The raging internet personality at last settled himself to a reserved calm. "Now, folks… I know I'm not supposed to give my opinion. We are an unbiased news source after all. But my only deep lamenting sorrow goes to the great war hero, Captain Steven Grant Rogers. How did he ever get caught up in all this madness, the world may never know. I fear he too may have been yet another victim of this masked menace… Caught in his web of unjust death."
Both Peter and Karen let out an amazed, "Wow," of disbelief.
"In light of this recent, made very public lawsuit, yet another case of the fat cats trying to stomp all over the little guy, I've decided it best for the safety of myself and my crew to move our show, now number one on iTunes and Spotify, to an undisclosed location… as a precaution for when Spider-Man will, no doubt, come looking for yours truly…"
Parker sat in baffled silence, jaw clenched.
"He's still out there, folks. Stay safe. Stay vigilant… and stay tuned in to The Daily Bugle Dot Net! John Jonah Jameson, signing off."
"Peter…" Karen spoke softly and cautiously. "Your anxiety levels are spiking, are you-"
The young boy flopped onto the roof of the water tower, curling his fingers into the face of his mask. A groan swelled to an inevitably loud eruption. He ripped off the mask, screaming up into the night sky in utter helpless frustration.
The dawn of another grim morning clouded over Manhattan's Upper West Side. At the southernmost edge of this busy borough, a freshly renovated office building welcomed its newest tenants.
"Haw haw! At long last!"
The boastful announcement upon entering the space came from none other than Franklin Percy "Foggy" Nelson himself. He kicked open the door for his arms were fully stacked with boxes of supplies. Behind him, entered Matthew Murdock and Karen Page to round out the trio; both working together to carry in their giant fax machine.
The struggling blonde continued her best to lift her end of the bulky unit. "Watch the corners."
"Yes," The blind man blessed with superhuman senses replied with a slight chuckle,"I know where the corners are."
"Right," she apologized.
"Let's just place it against this wall here. Right by the outlet."
Together, they did so quickly.
"Jesus, that thing." She wiped the sweat from her forehead and air dried her clammy hands.
Foggy dropped his full boxes onto his already situated work desk. Surrounding said desk was the rest of his piles. "Hey, it was your idea to bring that dinosaur with us."
"I know I just… I couldn't bear to leave it behind." She fixed her long, straightened hair behind her ear. "Nostalgic, sentimental purposes, you know?"
"Yeah, we know. Hardly works half the time when we actually need it, but, heck, it's been with us since the beginning."
"First thing you ever bought for the office, while you were…" Matthew adjusted his frames and crossed his arms like a parent. "I'm sorry, doing what again exactly?"
"Let's not dip back into one of my many, many reckless and life-threatening endeavors. Best to leave them all in the past with the rest of that junk."
"But not this junk." Foggy pointed to the old apparatus. "This junk is special."
"It is." Karen giggled.
Murdock hunched over to plug in the last of their technical equipment. He stretched back upright with a slight grimace for he was sore from the night before.
His best friend patted him hard on the back. "You okay there, gramps?"
Matthew faked a laugh, "I'm alright, Foggy. Just… took a hard hit last night is all."
"Still pursuing the Maggia?" Karen asked worriedly.
"Yeah, I was following a lead. Until… some idiot came along and ruined everything."
"Ruined it how? Who even?"
"It was just some kid off the street. Wrong place, wrong time." He shrugged the topic off. "Not worth getting into."
"Okay." She decided not to pry. "Well just be careful. Everywhere from the AM to the Bulletin to the Times is investigating these strange disappearances. They don't seem to be slowing down. It's only getting worse."
"All the more reason to track them to the source, and for the record," He smiled at her in reassurance. "I'm always careful."
The lovely blonde could not help but smile back with hints of blush on her fair cheeks. "Alright then erm, I should… I should go bring in the last of our things."
"Cool. We'll start unpacking." Nelson waved her off as she stepped out. Once clear, he grinned childishly at Matthew.
"What?" Though blind, he could tell.
"I didn't say anything!"
"You didn't have to."
"Oh, get out of here with those heightened senses of yours."
"Foggy," he laughed.
Both began unloading all their files and other office supplies onto their desks and into their proper cabinets.
"I'm just picking up on some sparks is all."
"There are no sparks. We're just friends now. Besides, she doesn't react the same way towards me." He elaborated as he fidgeted about. "Yes, she still cares, I can feel that. But, no, not like before. I would know."
"Course you would. I swear, man. It's like you refuse to be happy. Even for a split millisecond."
"There's too much going on."
"Uh huh," Franklin closed in to jest. "Like throwing out your back?"
"I did not-" Matthew shoved him away playfully.
He kept it going. "You should be lucky she's still interested. A strong, beautiful, able-bodied young woman like herself. We were blessed to have skipped those five years. You on the other hand, pushing forty now."
"You done?"
"Grey's coming in nicely."
Murdock rested his hands on his hips as a forewarning.
"Okay, alright." Nelson surrendered with his hands up. "Then go on. Tell me about what happened last night. About the idiot."
"You're not gonna believe who it was."
"Try me?"
"Spider-Man."
"The Masked Menace guy!?" Franklin put a pause to his filing, for his full attention was captured.
"Yeah."
"He's been all over the news lately. But, god, his voice…" Foggy recalled how the boy in question sounded based off Beck's viral confession video and his own public press conference. "You got your ass handed to you by a twelve year old, Iron Man-obsessed psycho?"
"He wasn't twelve. But… yes." Matthew admitted with some shame. "He was strong. Insanely strong."
"Like Luke Cage strong?"
"Maybe stronger."
"Whoah… you came out lucky then. Is he working for the Maggia?"
Nelson knew all that his best friend was up to as Daredevil. From the slew of missing persons to the Maggia somehow being involved. He kept no secrets from his closest anymore. They were all on stable ground. Their relationship, healthy. Matthew was incredibly relieved and grateful to have had them back after the Snap. Though it was not enough to fill the hateful void he carried within.
"No, I don't think so. He was clueless to the whole situation. Far as I could tell, he's not the murderer they're saying he is."
"How so?"
"Because, in our fight, he wasn't trying to kill me. And he easily could have after leaving me strung up in this weird substance of his. Smelled like hot nylon and vinegar."
"That explains this." Nelson walked by to pull a stretching gunk of web from behind Matthew's ear.
"Really?" He sighed with irritation. "I thought I scrubbed off the last of it this morning."
"If he captured you like a fly, how'd you get away before the cops showed?" Foggy asked as he tossed out the dried strings of fluid.
"I got lucky…"
That late, eventful evening the rotating sirens of parked responders lit the dark alley in glaring red. Policemen approached the target webbed up before them, weapons aimed and ready. Daredevil felt the faint heat of their flashlights on the skin of his exposed mouth. He mentally prepared himself to fight his way through the authorities once he was released from his entrapment. It would not have been the first time in his vigilante career. Already he had counted the set of footsteps that surrounded him. To his relieving surprise, a familiar voice then ordered the officers to stand down.
"Lower the guns, boys. Like it or not, he's on our side." The commanding detective strutted right up to his old acquaintance, resting his hands above his belt. He could not help but take in some minor enjoyment from this rare view. "You sure have a knack for getting caught up with these whack jobs, friend."
"Mahoney?" Foggy guessed.
"Mahoney," Matthew answered. "After they cut me down, I told him what happened."
"That Spider boy let the Maggia goon get away while making you look like a fool."
"He was trying to do the right thing, sure. But this is a kid we're talking about. He didn't stop to think. Just jumped in assuming I was the bad guy."
"Well with how brutal you've gotten these days, can you blame him?"
Their conversation took a more serious tonal shift.
Matthew, already annoyed, "You sneak this in every chance you get."
"You enjoy beating on people. I get that. Quite a character flaw, but I get it and I accept you." So began another of Franklin's deeply concerning lectures. "But you don't just stop there anymore. You don't simply beat them… now you break them."
"You're not out there like I am. You haven't seen-" He stopped himself, repressing horrid memories. "You don't know the extent of what these people- this city is capable of."
"Maybe not. But I'm seeing what you're capable of. I've seen some of your handy work courtesy of Detective Mahoney."
"Oh please." He turned away, dismissing his concerned friend's warning.
"You're walking that dangerously fine line again, Matt. Next thing you know you'll be just another Frank Castle!"
"I'm not killing anyone. That's not who I am-"
"You've always struggled with this. How many times have you wanted so desperately to kill Fisk!?"
"But did I!?"
"Almost! I like to think we helped a great deal in talking some sense into you. Which is what I'm trying to do now."
"And I appreciate that. Really, I do, but trust me, I'm fine."
"No you're not. Not with how far you've been going!"
Matthew paced about, wiping down his face in frustration. His heart pumped with aggravation.
"Snapping limbs, leaving muggers completely comatose. You even paralyzed a guy!"
He had reached his boiling point. "It's what they deserve!"
"He was tipping over an ATM!"
Matthew stopped at the opposite end of the roomy space, needing a break from this heated escalation. The 23rd floor view of Central Park stretched before him. The dying leaves in vibrant contrast beneath the overlaying bleak sky of grey.
His dear friend inched in with caution, voice now softened with sincerity. "What happened to you, man? Throughout all the violence, least when it really came down to it, it was always about saving people. But when's the last time you actually did that?"
He remained silent, refusing to respond.
"Now you're just… hunting. Hunting down any excuse to viciously hurt these people. Anyone who so much as litters. It's nerve racking, downright scary. The only time you seem yourself is when you're with us. Really, man… what the hell happened?"
Vile memories erupted from his traumatized past "...the rapture happened."
One traumatic memory in particular… scorched onto his daily thoughts. One of Murdock in his black vigilante attire, drowning in a loud sea of chaotic sin. His hand dangled above all the wrestling bodies of greed and selfishness, grasping desperately for freedom… for hope. Both devoid of reach, abandoning the warrior of God to fight the overwhelming wave of madness alone.
Nelson placed his hand onto Matthew's shoulder, which jolted him back to the present. His defensive reflexes involuntarily kicked in, flinching away into a quick boxing stance.
"Easy! Easy… it's me."
"I'm… I'm sorry, Fog. I didn't mean to…"
"It's okay," He nudged his arm, "You know, eventually you're going to have to tell us what went on with you while we were gone."
"I will. Yeah. It's just-"
"I know… A lot going on." He finished with a kind smile, always willing to be there for him at his best and worst. Never would he be the one to break up Nelson and Murdock again.
Laughter filled the buffet beneath a prestigious new condominium in Sunnyside, Queens. A complex that was now comfortably housing the diverse group of friends. The unfortunate victims of the Snap had finally found a home.
"I'm telling you! I was at a hotel party!" Whelan attempted to convince his companions of an outlandish tale.
"While I was out freezing my ass off in the Chicago weather, you were living it up at the LondonHouse?" His longtime friend was appalled.
"I'm still getting over the fact that you traveled all that way for a women's march." Lucia remarked as she took a sip of her mimosa.
"Oh, we been everywhere, Duchess."
"It's true." Jake returned to his seat beside her with his third plate. "They brag about it every chance they get."
"Wanderers across this great nation of ours." Edward proclaimed, brushing his hand across the air. "Fighting for unalienable rights far and wide! They called us hippies back in the 70's."
"Mm hm," Harold finished chewing his hashbrowns, "and animals the decade before that. Plenty of civil rights marches in our day. We even heard King, himself, speak."
"Supporting rightful causes." Whelan neatly cut into his fluffy pancakes. "Supporting good people. At times grateful people. The sweet, enlightened college babes were so moved by my words, they invited me right up to the balcony."
"I call BS." Blurted the young boy.
"Tell em, Junior." Harold slapped the table. "You ain't got the swagger like me, white boy."
Lucia could not help but giggle off in the background.
"Lovely view of the Magnificent Mile. Endless champaign." His hand gestures practically painted a vivid picture. "Folk asking for my handle? Wanted to 'peg' me or something. I don't kno-"
"Tag you!" The young woman corrected him, sharing a laugh with the other Zoomer at the round table.
"Whatever. Told them I wasn't interested. Went back to telling this group about my take on Socrates. Which, Lucy, honey, I should absolutely educate you on. A real shady character the education system never dares tell you about. In fact, he's-"
"Get on with it, Ed!" His best friend nudged him on track.
"Toilet!" He exclaimed, turning the heads of the other residents of this cafeteria.
"I'm sorry?" She uttered completely lost.
"I really had to use a toilet." Whelan finished his bite and adjusted his hair before continuing to the punchline. "There I was, mingling when my body suddenly went… Ten… nine… eight, seven, six- I hauled ass to the room!"
Jake and Harold's jaws of disbelief were nearly at the surface of the table as Lucia tried to contain herself.
"I unleashed a raging five pounds and poof… from the corner of my eye… there they were. A couple making out in the tub right beside me."
"No!" The foreigner clamped her hands up to her mouth in shocking awe of the embarrassing situation.
"And that's when it happened, friends. I raised my hand to wave hello, and I saw it. That's when I began to disappear. Snapped right off the crapper!" The group was so unshakably captivated at this point. "Till this day, I still ask myself the deep, metaphysical question of all the multiverse… did I really leave a heaping, steaming pile of remains for the poor two, or… did my shit vanish with me?"
A silence lingered for an engrained moment before the three all looked at one another. It was in that instant that the group of friends burst into hysterical laughter.
"Ed, you crazy son of a bitch." Harold smacked his pal's back.
"All that set up for a shit punchline?" The youngest could not believe this nonsensical story.
Lucia placed her hand on Jake's arm. "A real shitty one."
The cackling amongst them all continued.
"True story, folks. True story."
Once the table settled down, Lucia wiped away a tear of joy. "Wow…" She then told her friends with heartfelt vulnerability, "I never thought I'd be able to laugh about this."
"Can't let it keep us down." Edward replied humbly and sincerely. "In time, we all have to find a way to move on."
"And that we have." Harold raised his glass of orange juice. "The food, the condo, the company… Sharing a laugh with y'all, is a hell of a start."
She smiled at the lovely blessings around her, joining her glass. "To a fresh start."
The four united in their toast to a new beginning. A tender moment that was then interrupted by a sudden stomach growl for all to hear. It bellowed from the boy after he had downed another breakfast sandwich; triple the patties.
"How many is that now?" Lucia asked him.
"Pace yourself, boy." Edward pointed his fork at him from his already finished plate.
"I'm good, guys. I'm-" A prolonged yawn escaped Jake. "Oh man."
"Junior's getting hit with the 'Itis' now, huh." Harold commented, summoning shared chuckles from the others.
"Gentlemen!" An elder man in a professional black coat and matching leather gloves and cap approached them. It was their driver. "And madam."
Already the cheer fled her face at his mere presence. Here came the catch of their arrangement. One she was still cynical about. Even after having bathed, slept, and ate at such an accommodating building.
"Apologies for interrupting the feast."
"Not at all, Phil." Whelan tossed his napkin on the table after cleaning off his hands and lips. He was already well acquainted with the chauffeur from previous trips. "You caught us at the tail end."
"Splendid. Well rested and well nourished, you're all set for this afternoon's appointment."
"Some of us a little over nourished." He said, looking to the youngster.
"I need to lay down." The seventeen year old yawned out as he stretched from his chair.
"Jake will get to stay in, regardless. Being not yet of the consenting legal age."
"Awesome. I'll be in my room."
The group stood from their beyond pleasant meal as the man informed them.
"Car's waiting outside. Please, take the hour to freshen up. It will be a long drive."
North of Hell's Kitchen, Page returned to the office from her car with the last of their important documents. "And that… is the last of the case files." She placed them onto her corner desk at the reception area.
Franklin groaned. "I purposely forget we've stacked up this many."
Matthew, already recollected, adjusted his tie as he added on. "Lots of vanished victims want their property back, their homes."
The two instinctively agreed it best to keep their escalated discussion between themselves for the time being.
"Yeah and Manhattan, already being as densely populated as it is," she began filing the folders into her drawers alphabetically, "just happened to also take one of the heaviest hits in the whole country."
"That's the bad. The good news is that New York extended the years to reclaim one's estate from three to five under our CLS."
"Due to extremely unprecedented and universal circumstances." Nelson further quoted the state's law change to Karen.
"Exactly," Murdock sat at his desk to organize his braille setup to his satisfaction. "Now it's up to our legal system to process through it all. Which is where we come in to do our usual representation of defending those rightful claims."
"But the cases just continue to flood in!" She exasperated with the stacks of binders scattered throughout their new place of work.
"Business is booming! This is what we wanted, right?"
"Be careful what we wish for has never rung truer." Page brushed her hair back. "Told you guys hiring some extra hands would've been beneficial."
"With what money?" Franklin blurted out in his finely tailored business suit and designer Salvatore shoes, swiping through his latest high-end smartwatch. This invited the silent glares of his friends. "Oh, no no no. Don't you two stare at me like that. I put all my Hogarth money into leasing this place!"
"And thanks again for that, Foggy." His best friend was truly appreciative. "Especially for keeping us close to Hell's Kitchen."
"I haven't forgotten my roots. But yeah, how about we close some of these cases, then we can look into expanding 'Nelson, Murdock and Page'. We have the room now, after all." He gestured over to the adequate office space, capable of fitting a good amount of cubicles.
The spare area stretched directly beside the large waiting lobby. His order of guest chairs were already neatly placed. Even went as far as to bring in some of his and Marci's art paintings for decor. This wonderful high-rise was an impressive example of how far they have all come in their professional careers. A long way from their humble beginnings at the former Van Launt building.
Matthew stood with a deep breath. "Best we can do then, for starters, is keep deferring our clientele to get their updated photo ID's if they haven't already." The blind lawyer suggested. "Process should give us a good two, three weeks to situate ourselves. Hopefully by then, Congress finishes up their new Saved Immunity Act."
"And the nation's debt skyrockets yet again." Foggy proclaimed theatrically. "Seriously, the amount of financial backing and manpower it will take to build and sustain new affordable housing, alone. Samson Development really has their work cut out for them."
"They can't expect to keep moving saved residents to the tents in Yankee Stadium all year." Karen pointed out. "The rich are doing their part, celebrities mostly. There's various donations from all over. And plenty of high tier enterprises spearheading relief efforts."
"No Wall Street brokers though." Matthew snarked.
"Ha," his friend laughed sarcastically. "Those wolves are curling up in their dens with what they've got left until this all blows over."
"What surprised me was the Department of Education. A woman coming in from Austin called our old office, said UT was letting homeless victims stay at their dorms."
"Columbia is doing the same. Any free housing they can spare over at River Hall."
Franklin returned with his cynical realism. "The ED just wants to come off nice before they eventually push federal to reopen everyone's lost debt. And colleges won't be the only ones."
"Wait, I thought a person's debt carried over to their cosigners or immediate family?" Their 'Office Manager', as she liked to be called, inquired.
"Cosigner, maybe, if the person's estate doesn't fully cover the balance." The successful, blonde lawyer educated her. "But spouses, parents, any of that, no. It's a common misconception, but there's actually zero familial obligation to pay off one's debt."
"They just want you to think there is." Matthew told her with a smile.
"Your debt is your own. Once you die, it dies with you and creditors scream into the abyss." Foggy finished with his fists in the air, again, ever so theatrically.
"No wonder why my student loans and credit cards have stopped cluttering the mail."
"Enjoy it while it lasts."
She completed emptying the last of the document boxes into her drawers and filing cabinet behind her desk. "Well, our doors officially open tomorrow. It will be a lot, but I'm already in the right frame of mind." Their friend then stood, grabbing her bag as she headed out. "You guys finish putting together your work spaces. I'm going on a coffee run. The usual?"
They both nodded and replied in unison. "The usual."
"Got it. Be back in a few."
After Page exited the floor once more, the sound of her heels fading down the long hall, Nelson turned to Murdock.
"Ready for the big day?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You've got a lot going on remember? I just want to make sure you'll be focused. We're gonna be drastically outnumbered in this uncharted legal territory moving forward. I can't have you bailing on us when we absolutely need-"
"Relax, Foggy. You may be paying the bills for the moment but we're still partners here. Don't start talking to me like my employer. I'll be there." He reassured him. "I like to think that I've gotten the hang of this whole lawyer by day, vigilante by night thing over the years."
"Okay… just throwing it out there. We're counting on you, Matt."
"I know… Now lets just," He cleared his throat. "Let's finish all the preparations. We've both got places to be today before rush hour."
The two longtime friends carried on with their preparations for the inevitable waves of clients that would flood through their doors. Clients in desperate need of saving in this unprepared new world, post-decimation.
Lucia stared out the tinted window of the black vehicle they were being transported in. She and her friends had a delightful stay in Sunnyside. They were all well taken care of for the first time since her return to this world. Yet the quiet ride continued to trouble the young foreigner.
"Still nervous, Dutchess?" Harold asked, smelling fresh with his strong aftershave.
"Aren't you? They wouldn't even tell us where we were going."
"Just standard procedure." Whelan assured her. "I've been taken to three separate places already. They've got research labs all over the city. Don't want the press or competition knowing about what they're cooking up and where."
"And I'm sure testing new pharmaceuticals on the poor, uninsured, unrepresented homeless would be bad for their public image."
"Baby, this is the way it's always been." Her elder friend attempted to explain.
"Yeah, yeah…" She rolled her eyes. "Trippy, fun times in the 80's. You've told me."
"And don't be surprised if they give you a paper to sign. Gotta agree to keep our lips tight on whatever goes on in there for us to get paid."
"Again, standard procedure. No biggie." Whelan tagged onto his pal's correct statement.
"Not like there's anyone out there who'd listen to us." She continued brooding out the window.
"We have arrived." Their driver announced.
The car pulled into a loading dock behind a warehouse in another part of Queens.
Nothing appeared suspicious to Lucia yet. She searched for a logo on the building and side of the semis, but nothing was within her eye line. The nameless organization remained as such. Before no time, they were escorted inside by standard security, carrying no firearms in sight. Tasers at most.
Within the operating compound was even less to be concerned over. The workers were dressed as to be expected; in casual jeans, safety vests, and protective gloves. They seemed to be operating minute machinery that labelled and packaged bulks of sports vitamins.
"Welcome to our prep and storage facility, SW-1." A plain looking man in a lab coat greeted them. "My name is Alvin. I'm the supervising researcher here, and I just so happen to also manage the entire warehouse." He chuckled awkwardly. "Work's a little tight these days, I'm afraid. Um, my station's actually downstairs. Please, follow me."
The party made their way over to the elevators. Lucia followed closely behind the bow legged scientist. His mere nonthreatening appearance eased her mind of all its foreboding thoughts. He reminded Lucia of all her equally nerdy and socially inept peers back at her tech startup.
"As you can see, we package performance enhancements here. Newly formulated pre-workouts, supplements, things of that nature. All non-addictive, of course, and in line under FDA guidelines. Once nicely wrapped in a neat bow, I make sure to oversee inventory before our trucks load up the product for distribution."
Harold let out a loud yawn. "Man, good thing we left Junior at home. Would've had to carry his bored-to-sleep ass."
"Boring is good." Whelan whispered to Lucia.
They entered the spacious elevator. No guards, solely the three volunteers with the Supervisor.
"So, as Mr. Whelan might have already told you, yes, our company has several other facilities around New York. Yet we are still, how do I put it? Struggling afloat."
"Because of the Tragedy?" She asked.
"Indeed. Many companies went under during those five years. Entire workforces suddenly vanished. Now? Everyone's back and desperate for jobs again. But we just don't have the hours to go around. Our staff is short as you saw. Heck, I'm the entire management team."
They descended several floors below.
"The only reason we survived was because of left over funds from an initial military contract at the industry's inception."
"What did the military have you researching for them?" She hastily inquired.
"Not too far off from what we are still doing. Enhancing the body to achieve its maximum potential. Only to a more extreme extent. We were toying with hypotheses of biotech. Even began development. Our head scientist, ugh. Brilliant! Truly Brilliant, and such a workaholic. One of his kind. But alas…"
Harold snapped his fingers.
"Correct," responded Alvin. "Half our entire staff, gone. Government took it upon themselves to refocus their military efforts on restoring order to the country, defending their own valuable assets from the imminent possibility of another alien attack."
The doors opened, welcoming the party to a clean, white laboratory. Same floor size as the warehouse above, only appeared smaller due to the increase in rooms. The dozen or so brains of this operation seemed to be just as spread thin. Some looked fresh out of undergrad. The visitors embarked down the main hall as the head researcher continued elaborating.
"Please, right this way. So yes, my quote on quote, science division… is spread just as far few in between as our labor force above. I keep sending emails for much needed support, but our high stakes entrepreneur of a CEO made a huge property investment in downtown years back. He's still trying to flip that into a profit. Thus, here we are for the time being. We uh work with what we have."
A well postured lady, also in a lab coat, awaited everyone at their turn of the corner.
"Are these the volunteers?" She asked politely.
"Why, Grace." A bit startled. "Yes, erm. Here they are, present and accounted for. Everyone, this is Grace. My assistant, I suppose."
She smiled, fixing her circled frames. "Please, an underpaid intern at best."
"She's quite a kidder. But, yes, under different circumstances, we'd normally put the word out around local campuses. Pay the participants of the experiments a fair sum. But, once again, due to the confining circumstances and the secrecy of what we're trying to develop, we've had to resort to the unlikeliest of employ."
"We still getting paid though right?" Harold made sure to seek clarification.
"Yes, you already have." The supervisor laughed. "Our employer has his connections. What we lack up front we hope more than made up for with your housing and career opportunity. The details of which you'll all go over in your paperwork. Lady Grace, I leave them in your hands." Alvin bid farewell to the trio. "It was a pleasure, um, thank you all for agreeing to this. You're complimenting us an enormous favor."
Off we went, checking his clipboard as he exited down the hall.
"Right this way, miss." The woman called to Lucia's trailing attention. "This room right here."
She then directed the men to wait patiently in separate rooms across the hall, explaining that she would be with them shortly.
The interior was laid out much like that of a checkup clinic's with the glass wall cabinets, countered sink, and overall blandness. Except there was a simple long table in the middle instead of the common family practice version. Lucia took her seat at its end. Grace planted herself on the wheeled stool and pulled out a folder and capsule container from the drawers. She then slid over to join Lucia.
"Alrighty," The assistant attempted to pronounce the volunteer's full name. "Lucia von-"
"Don't bother." She quickly stopped her.
"Sure, okay well, let's get this out of the way then." A legal form was handed over. "An agreement to your full compliance and discrepancy. Read through it carefully. If you change your mind, that's perfectly understandable. Just know you will also forfeit your new place of stay and employment position."
In other words… if Lucia refused to sign, she would be right back to where she first began. Homeless and hopeless. All that she witnessed here was as legitimate as could be. Nothing sketchy or out of the ordinary. Except for one thing…
"That man. The one who first picked us up in the Bronx. The big one. His head was sort of-"
"Ah, you must be referring to the ex-con leading our scouting division. Again, this company nearly went under after the Decimation. We still haven't recovered the manpower we used to have. The way it was explained to me, we've had to outsource that particular task from another unlikely well. Much like how we've been forced to gather individuals such as yourself for our experimental groups. But the higher ups believe in second chances, so don't let their presence frighten you."
"I see," She continued reading through the fine print.
"No marketing team. Our trucks aren't even in-house. All independent contractors. And as I joked before, new members to my department are just underpaid biochem majors. Borderline interns. We're not the same without our reputable government involvement, no. But I share Alvin's sentiment. We work with what we have. So…" She handed her a pen. "Any other questions? Concerns?"
Lucia answered by signing on the dotted line below the company's title. "No. No worries anymore." She was fully onboard with Oscorp Industries, wondering why she ever had such premature reservations.
"Wonderful."
"So, first up is a sleeping pill?" The young volunteer surmised from the contract she just read.
"A bit more than that," She passed her the container. "We've engineered it to further relax the muscles during rest, increasing their O2 intake. The intent is to aid with injuries, repairing the body stronger than before, no matter how severely torn."
The assistant poured her a cup of water. After swallowing the pill. She felt… nothing.
"When will it take effect?"
"Not for another hour or two, least in theory. Once you start getting sleepy, feel free to use the sofa here. It's more comfortable than it looks."
Her final few words began to echo out as if underwater. Lucia's vision then blurred into doubles, triples. Her senses became disoriented.
"I'll go ahead and continue on over to your friends. If you need any- Lucia? Lucia! Are you alright?"
Her heavy head dropped onto the surface of the table. Muffled poundings then stunted her hearing. Someone had barged in through the door. As her vision narrowed into darkness, she only heard vague fragments.
"What on earth do you think you're doing!? Storming in here like this!"
"We're moving the test subjects."
His voice… She recognized it. Even as low and tunneled as it was, that gruff accent was unmistakable. It was the man from their initial ride. Their recruiter.
"You can't just- we weren't informed!"
"Don't matter. Change 'o plans."
"On whose authority? Y-you thug."
"The Big Man, himself."
All sound had drowned out into dead silence. Any grasp of time or awareness had completely escaped Lucia. Her mind adrift in the void. Then faint hints of drills awoke her senses. After the drills, an echo of voices followed.
"Alright, alright, alright…" It was a man, clapping for everyone's attention. His tone was smooth and confident; a natural public speaker. "Let's see what sticks, people!"
Her vision slowly returned though still heavily blurred and darkened. She knew naught where she was, if she was even in the same facility. All she could make out was the speaking silhouette standing on an elevated catwalk before her.
"I want results! My business partner shares the same urgency. Let's make it happen!" He clapped his hands once more with spirit. His figure was tall and slender; sounded like the man in charge.
"Sir!" A distant voice alerted from below. "Her vitals have come online. She's waking up!"
"Impossible!" The leader cried in outrage. "All the other subjects remained under through the whole procedure. Why is she different?"
Another out of focus worker contributed. "Her bio readings, Sir! She had some sort of implant, augmenting her internal physiology. It's causing an extreme reaction!"
"She's… already enhanced?"
As Lucia grew closer and closer to full consciousness, she began to feel a strange sensation of… weightlessness.
"Appears so. Should we abort, Sir!?"
"Don't you dare! This could be the missing variable."
More cleared before her eyes. She noticed rows of computers beneath the catwalk, manned by personnel in white. The head figure above appeared to be wearing a black business suit. His arms were firmly gripped onto the railing, leaning forward to stare intently at her. Just as his face was about to become visibly clear…
"Proceed."
Lucia experienced what she could best describe as a flurry of electrically charged needles stab completely through her all at once. She screamed out at the excruciating jolt of pain, her back arched. The shock fully reactivated her senses. Flailing her head about violently, she saw that she was in a large containment tube. Floating in a gel-like liquid of green.
"Up the dosage! I want full symbiosis."
"But, Sir?"
A distressing alarm rang off in her very eardrums.
"I do not repeat myself."
Air bubbles filled her field of view, for she let out an appalling shriek as the needles suddenly popped in diameter. Every single atom of her being stretched with torturous agony. Then she got a look at her hands. Utterly obliterated. Replaced with elongated blades and bizarre moving mechanisms that trailed up her forearms.
What have they done to me!?
She caught a horrific glimpse of her misty red blood meshing with the green ooze of the human chamber. Then the final image that violated her forced awakened sight was that of a sinister grin from just beyond the glass. The slender man in black had made his way up to her. This green tinted smile of his widened ghastly with the curvature of the tube. Lucia had already guessed what heartless monster she was dealing with before blacking out from the torment… The Big Man.
