So...bit of an oddball chapter. Some people expressed an interest in a Moon Knight flashback and I figured it'd be good to have a teaser. This chapter's shorter than my usual updates because I wanna test the waters first.

This is a flashback taking place 10 years before Looking Glass. I'm going for a 'Gotham' kind of vibe where we see the characters we know before they became who they are. It's also an experiment for writing a different kind of protagonist since Moon Knight is a different kind of anti-hero compared to Noir.

Side Note - I put up a poll on my profile asking if you guys want Noir to have webswinging capabilities or not. I've had certain reviewers arguing he deserves to have it since it's a staple of every Spider-Person. I'm cool with adding it to an extent so on to the poll it goes. Vote if you guys want or not.


Back in New York.

Moon Knight knelt over the edge of the high rise building's roof and looked down at the bustling city below. He only recalled vague memories of living here. He spent the first eight years of his life in this city before his father took him to Chicago. He never understood the sudden move and his father was tight-lipped when asked.

Marc never cared all too much. He was too young to consider New York his home and by the time his father died he didn't consider Chicago his home either. It was what made his shift to the life of a soldier and, later on, a mercenary easy. Moving from place to place, being deployed in far off corners of the world to do someone else's killing, it appealed to him and everyone else who had no home to go back to.

And now he was back here, all at the behest of the patron that gave him a second chance at life.

'This place brings back memories.' Jake said next to him. His ethereal form stood at Marc's right side while Steven took up his left. Another benefit from his patron. One man, three roles. A mask for every situation, 'Remember that little girl you had a crush on?

'If I remember correctly her father threatened to beat you for being a...what was it? A 'dirty little Yid with a worthless Shyster for a father?' Steven shook his head, 'That man was certainly...creative with his prejudice.'

'It does not matter. We did not come here for memories,' Marc replied. The only reason he had come back here was at Khoshnu's behest, and because both Marlene and Frenchie had ties to this place. More Marlene and Frenchie. Apparently her father had contacts here and it was easier to hide from Bushman among the bustling metropolis than somewhere more covert.

'You guys ever wonder why our new boss brought us over here?' Jake asked, 'I mean we were already in Egypt and we've been to Africa and South America. Plenty of scumbags over there who need their teeth kicked in but the bossman sends us over to the land of the 1% instead. What's the deal?'

'It's not our place to question, Jake,' Marc said.

Taking a deep breath, he jumped from the building and spread the cape of his wings to fly down towards the streets below. Despite Jake's protestations this city was as corrupt and bloated as any other; they simply hid it better under bright lights and intricate symbols to keep the populace docile and uncaring.

The information Jake had gathered was clear enough. They'd heard rumors of homeless people disappearing and some investigation led them to an organ trafficking ring tied to the reigning Maggia crime families.

Even when he was a child he'd heard rumors about them. The conglomerate of the strongest crime families in New York all banded together under a tentative alliance. A part of him still didn't believe it even now. Men like Silvermane and the so-called Hammerhead were predators, not content to split the prey with others of their kind. If they were anything like he expected them to be he could only guess any sort of alliance was due to necessity than want.

Regardless of his belief, the victims were all too real.

The four men in the alley looked upon him warily when they saw his approach, 'Perhaps we shouldn't have worn white,' Steven hummed.

'Screw blending in. Let em see us and they'll piss their pants.' Jake grinned. Moon Knight hummed slightly in agreement. Khoshnu did not want them slinking around in the darkness like rats. They were to be seen and incite fear in their enemies, to let them know that Khosnhu had come to take his pound of flesh for the sins they had committed. That there would be no escape from the Moon Knight.

"Who the hell are you?" The suited man in front asked. They were armed and made no attempt to hide it, "Halloween was last year, pal. Now screw off if you know what's good for you."

Moon Knight grabbed two of the crescent darts and threw them. The first one impaled one of the suits on his right shoulder while the other gouged clean through another one's left eye, "Holy shit!" One behind screamed. The two unharmed sentries raised their firearms and he moved.

He took out his truncheon and threw it at the jaw of the third gunman. He fell, blood and tooth flying from the impact, while the fourth managed to fire off a shot, 'Heads up.' Steven said. Moon Knight ducked before he pulled the trigger and the bullet whizzed overhead. Before he could fire once more Moon Knight grabbed the fallen truncheon and struck the gunman three times in the head with surgical precision.

"You fucking-" The two behind were regaining their bearing. Moon Knight turned and, with small glint from the light of the moon, struck his cestus covered fist right towards the one with the injured shoulder.

He fell, leaving the last gunman to fire blindly before the next strike of the cestus against his throat made him crumple as well. Moon Knight looked down at the whimpering sentries for a moment before he raised his foot and stomped the closest one's head. It was cruel, but it was meant to send a message. Heroes from the likes of Jennifer Walters would use only as much force as necessary to stop a crime. It made the criminals complacent, made them believe that no true harm would come to them and that their punishment could be ignored.

He was to prove them wrong.

Moon Knight opened the door that led down, leaving behind the broken bodies of the parasites to serve as a warning to the rest, 'Man, you shoulda let me do that! I'm better at this stuff than you are.' Jake said loudly. Marc ignored him.

'I'm more worried about how we'll clean up after. White may fit our motif but it's a pain to wash the blood off.' Steven sighed.

The sounds of struggling could be heard from the door at the end of the hall. Without another word he kicked the fragile wood down and strode inside, "What the fuck?!" One man screamed. He was old with skin like leather and not a single strand of hair on his pale head. The bloodstained surgical gown and gloves he wore fit perfectly with the rusted brown and bloody interior and the hollowed corpses of those they stole from.

Cowards who took from the weak deserved no mercy under Khoshnu's gaze.

"Wh-Who the hell are you?!" The man stumbled back, holding onto the edges of the makeshift surgical table behind him for balance. There was a passed out man there who had yet to be cut, "Y-You from the Gnucci's? Cause I told you the Kingpin guaranteed our protection!"

The man fumbled back for something and suddenly produced a pistol. He dodged to the side behind a slab as the man fired in a panic before turning to leave the other way. Moon Knight slipped out and tossed a crescent dart at the back of the man's left ankle. The barbaric doctor crashed headfirst into the back of another slab and turned around frantically to fire off his remaining bullets. He was so dazed that he barely had to move to avoid them.

Soon enough the telltale click of an empty chamber echoed around the room. It was time.

"Enough. This ends today."

"Not yet!" He tossed the empty firearm at him and Moon Knight simply tilted his head to the side to avoid the pathetic projectile, "Wh-Why can't I hit you?!"

"I'm not real."

His punch sent the 'doctor' crashing through the slab and against the wall. He pleaded and begged, promised a cut of his blood money if he was spared and promises of retribution should the warning not be heeded. Moon Knight ignored them all. He grabbed the scalpel from a nearby table and did unto him what he had done to countless others. Another warning to his masters.

He placed him on one of the hooks and left him to hang there as he squirmed weakly. He was dying now, there was no saving him anymore, but he deserved to suffer at least a fraction of the pain he had caused others.

Moon Knight looked down at his white, bloodstained hands. He was no stranger to killing. From the marines to the CIA to mercenary work and even fight clubs in third world countries. He'd spent many years of his life killing, but never for a true purpose. He killed for the sake of money or for the sake of some ideal suited men and women touted as virtuous. It was all so empty. Hollow.

Now he was bringing punishment to those who believed themselves untouchable.

He was about to leave when he heard a faint ringing from the man's pockets, "Hm..." He fished out a bloodstained flip phone and saw the name 'boss' on the screen. He accepted the call and pressed it against his ear.

"Mr. Morrison, your shipments have come in late." A smooth, deep voice said from the other end, "I'm very disappointed. You came in highly recommended and yet your performance has been wavering as of late. Do not make me regret placing my trust in our mutual contacts." A pause, "Say something. Silence will only make me doubt you even more."

"Your pawn is dead." Moon Knight said. The man said nothing but he heard a faint noise of surprise that he tried and failed to suppress, "Let his death serve as a warning to others of your ilk. I'm coming for you."

"...I don't know who you are, but you've made a fatal mistake." His words were calm and quiet, but Moon Knight felt the raging anger underneath, "You will regret this, I can promise you that."

The call ended. Moon Knight let the cellular device drop the bloodstained floor and walked back up. It did not take a scholar to surmise who was on the other end. The doctor of death mentioned the Kingpin and there was only one man in the entire city to fit such a description.

Wilson Fisk. A business man and so-called philanthropist who controlled both sides of the law. While people celebrated his charities that gave children a chance to escape the gutters the same man was lining his pockets selling other innocents as slaves. Murder, theft, drugs, human trafficking, even the occasional snuff films. The man wanted everything and took and took because he thought himself entitled. He was more a personification of gluttony than a human being.

'You know what they say; bigger they are the harder they fall. Let's make sure the fatman falls and breaks his everything,' Jake said with a grin.

'But first we need to recuperate, and I have business deal planned for tomorrow. We can't fight crime without our fancy toys and those cost money,' Jake said after.

A bright line shined in his face as soon as he stepped foot outside. Moon Knight covered his eyes with his right hand before a voice cried out, "Freeze! Hands in the air." He lowered his arm slightly and looked ahead. Two police officers - a man and a woman - with their guns pointed at his chest. Someone must have heard the screams. Good, saved him the trouble of calling them himself.

"I said hands in the air!" The male officer screamed again. He was an older man - older than him, at least - with light brown hair and a goatee that already had some some small streaks of gray. The woman beside him was younger with light, auburn hair and a much more inexperienced grip on her pistol. He knew the type all too well.

He didn't bother explaining himself; they wouldn't have believed him. Moon Knight raised his hands in the air and they didn't notice the small pellet that dropped from his gauntlets. A bright flash engulfed the alley and the bloodstained warrior shot a grapple line up to the roof while they stumbled in confusion.

He knew coming in that the officers of the law wouldn't approve of him. While some treated criminals with the disdain they deserved others believed in the rule of law and thought themselves wholly righteous despite their ineffectivity. But also knew that he could not survive long without contacts in the law, especially if he was to fight the Kingpin. He needed an alliance, and to do that he'd need to find someone willing to set aside enmity to combat the greater threat.

He arrived at his safehouse and shut the door behind him. He had many such places across the city - one could never know where they would need aid - and this one was of the more crude variety. An abandoned apartment building with barely any furniture save what little he could transport without drawing attention. It would have to do for now. At least he received no injuries in this excursion.

Marc removed his mask and briefly lingered on his bloodstained reflection before he washed away the crimson with cold water, 'Really thought those coppers were gonna shoot you right there.' Jake said behind him. Marc didn't reply, 'You know the boys in blue are just gonna be even bigger pains in the asses now. Far as they're concerned you're the same as every other lowlife in the city.'

'Not to mention how many of them are under the Kingpin's payroll.' Steven added, 'Even those who aren't directly in his pocket are likely to be encouraged to treat you like you're a leper.'

'I do not doubt that. Police Chief Simon Matheson is likely to be under Wilson Fisk's employ. We need to find one who is incorruptible,' Marc said.

'Tch. Yeah, fat chance of that! Anyone like that's not gonna wanna work with crazies like us.' Jake scoffed.

'I did not say it would be easy, but this is a war that we cannot fight alone,' Marc replied.

'I guess so.' Steven sighed, 'This is going to be complicated.'


Weeks passed and the private war continued. While the citizens continued to praise Fisk, unaware of the gluttonous demon underneath, they fought. He, Marlene and Frenchie undermined his operations wherever they could. He brutalized his men and strung up the ringleaders to serve as a warning to the others, the severity of the punishment matching their crimes.

And yet more and more it began to feel pointless. For every operation they stopped, for every man and woman he left as a warning, more always came. Men and women who were brave, stupid or desperate enough to risk their lives earning scraps while the Kingpin feasted on suffering. They were scared of him, but Fisk scared them more. He was a bogeyman while Fisk was all too real.

And as he expected the police did not make his job easy. Many times he'd stopped a crime only for the police to be there as he left. Many of them didn't even bother to try and force a surrender. He expected that Fisk told Matheson to give a kill on sight order for him and those that were either bribed or too apathetic to question their orders all followed suit.

Except for two people.

Marc covered his mouth with his right hand and focused on the screen of the bulky computer. Gathering information discreetly was difficult at the best of times, but to do so for a police officer was even moreso.

George Stacy and Jean DeWolff. Stacy was a veteran of the force with 20 years of active duty. At 41 years old he was beginning to feel the weight of his age but he showed no signs of slowing down any time soon. He was an honest cop. From what he could glean from his records the man had numerous solved cases and a surprisingly low amount of kills. A man on a mission, it seemed.

DeWolff was a rookie. 24 years old and a fresh graduate of the police academy. If he had to hazard a guess she was partnered with a man nearly two decades her senior so she could gather experience. It might have saved her integrity. If she was paired with anyone else she might've been corrupted into one of Fisk's attack dogs or become another gullible pawn in his chessboard.

The same two people that nearly arrested him on his first excursion. Coincidence or fate?

'You ain't seriously thinking about this, are ya?' Jake huffed, 'Sure the guy tells you to put your hands up first but that doesn't mean he's on our side! He'll put us in prison then we get a little shanking accident!'

'He's the best choice we have.' Steven put a hand on his chin, 'Regardless of what he thinks of us these files indicate that he hates Kingpin even more. He could not be bought or coerced so an alliance is to our mutual benefit.'

'He has stopped his investigations recently due to threats against his daughter.' The only family he had left. His wife died a few months prior to cancer and from what he gathered there was no contact with extended family, 'We could come to an arrangement. He feeds us information and we disrupt the Kingpin's operations. It won't fall back to him and it puts us both one step closer to the fall of Wilson Fisk.'

'I still think this is a shit idea, but Marc's the one with the controls.' Jake grunted, 'Fine then. Just don't say I didn't warn you.'

It didn't take much difficulty to arrange a meeting. A letter left at his desk talking about Wilson Fisk's threats and the man was willing to do anything. Moon Knight watched as the suited officer walked down the length of the alley with his gun raised and his stance wary. His head snapped to the edges of the rooftops - looking for snipers, perhaps? - and he turned around as soon as Moon Knight landed behind him after a quick jump.

"...You were the one who sent the letter." George Stacy kept the gun trained to his armored chest. His grip was firm and his finger was a scant distance from the trigger, "Did you come here to turn yourself in?"

'Looks pretty trigger happy. Careful, Marcy.'

'Sure I shouldn't be in control for this? I'm more adept at making deals.'

"I come with an offer."

George Stacy laughed. It was soft and bitter, "You must be joking. What makes you think I'd listen to anything you say?"

"We share a mutual enemy." The older man's eyes narrowed and, just barely, his gun lowered, "Wilson Fisk. I know what he has done to you. He threatened you and your daughter to ensure that you would not investigate his wrongdoings. He was scared of you. He understood that you were one of the very few people capable of taking him from his throne."

"...What are you getting at?"

"Work with me to stop him. He is both our enemy and we gain nothing but playing right into his hands if we remain in conflict. Give me the information I require and I can ensure that those who do his bidding cannot escape their dues."

"I've seen what you've done. The people you brutalized, the bodies you strung up on hooks...what makes you think I'd do anything with you?"

"Strange times call for odd bedfellows. Should you reject my offer could you live with yourself knowing that you let innocents suffer and die because you could not stomach a compromise?" Again the gun lowered, "When you first found me how many innocents had been saved because of my actions? Would you have preferred if those men, women and children were harvested in order to spare the suffering of their tormentors?"

He was silent for a few moments till, eventually, he let out a held breath and put the gun back in its holster, "...Why are you doing this?"

"My reasons are my own. I won't ask why you entered the police force either." People did not understand. To them Khosnu was but a figment of his imagination, "Just know that our goals align, if not our methods. Whatever hatred and distrust you have for me is nothing compared to the enmity we both share for Fisk. Until he has been dealt with I propose an alliance."

"...Why me? There are other cops in the city."

"You are the only one who cares. Surely you've seen it. Those you call your compatriots throw themselves at the Kingpin's feet, and those that don't are blind, willfully or otherwise. You tore away the veil and tossed aside his temptations for the sake of your own values. Not many in this city could make the same claim."

And he understood there was no other way. If he came across any of the Kingpin's machinations his superiors would order him to cease and desist. Then they would follow through on their threats if he didn't comply.

"...Fuck." He shut his eyes briefly and took a deep, slow breath, "Only until Fisk is behind bars. You hear me? We aren't friends and this isn't a permanent arrangement."

"That is all I require. I will be in contact soon."


He had gotten careless.

Moon Knight stumbled across the rooftops, right arm pressed against his chest as his vision swam. Foolish, foolish, foolish. He had overestimated himself and this was his punishment. Khoshnu was laughing at him now, he was sure.

George Stacy had fed him information - his sixth one - about an operation concerning the smuggling of various drugs into the city. He thought it would be just like the rest but his timing was fortuitous; or at least he thought so at the time. Fisk had come to personally inspect the site and ensure that everything went smoothly. Just him and a few bodyguards.

He'd never be more vulnerable. His penthouse was a fortress - bulletproof glass, state of the art alarm systems and dozens of soldiers willing to die at his command. He would never get a chance to get to Fisk like he did at that moment.

And he failed.

'He kicked our asses!' Jake raged. Steven said nothing and just watched his broken arm, 'How the hell did humpty dumpty beat us?! I don't get it!'

'We were careless. We assumed him weak and vulnerable due to the success we've had the weeks prior.' Marc looked down at the ground. He'd fought him in combat and the gluttonous demon had more than proved his match. His right arm was broken and it took all the chi manipulation Khonshu had gifted him to even return it to a barely functional state. Aside from that he had multiple cracked ribs, his left eye was swollen shut and he likely had a concussion.

'We should've prepared more. Instead we got greedy, figured we could end this war here and now,' Steven sighed, 'We should've known it wouldn't be that easy.'

The sounds of soft, rhythmic taps drew his attention. Moon Knight pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and stared at the man walking towards him. He was young, perhaps the same age as he, with light red hair and a neatly pressed gray suit. His eyes were covered by thick, crimson shades and in his hands he held a polished wooden cane that he tapped in front of him as he walked.

Anyone else would've assumed he was a blind man. Moon Knight knew better.

"Well now, that was interesting show." The bespectacled man grinned. It reminded him of a shark's smile, "To think you'd be so brazen as to attack Mr. Fisk. My, my but aren't you a bold one!"

"Matt Murdock." The Kingpin's lawyer and his right hand. One didn't get to a position like that without a ruthlessness that would make even the most hardened criminals pale, "Have you come to kill me?"

"Now why would I do that? Mr. Fisk was very adamant that I keep a low profile so you can think of this as an...informal meeting." He smiled, "I'll admit I was curious on who would dare stand against the Kingpin. Mr. Fisk as most of the city bribed, cowed or left ignorant and yet here you are, waging a one man crusade. And for what? Some antiquated sense of justice? Or do you just like to kill people and are looking for acceptable targets?"

"I will not entertain your questions, pawn. Leave and return to the side of your master."

"Well now, isn't that rude?" His shoulders sagged, "Fine then. I'll leave a present behind, though. To commemorate our meeting."

He snapped his fingers and, as if they materialized from thin air, ninjas of the Hand fell around him. The first one immediately attempted to slash at him and Moon Knight blocked it with the gauntlets of his left hand, "The Hand are connected to Fisk..." He kicked the puppet away and when he looked back found Matt Murdock gone. He was one of their students, then.

There were ten of them. At any other time they would've been manageable, but it was difficult now in his current state, 'Hey, I ain't taking over for this one. You fucked this up so you gotta clean up the mess,' Jake said. Again Marc ignored him and cut the stomach of a ninja with his bladed cestus. He wasn't planning to relinquish control just yet.

He managed to take three down before sheer numbers overwhelmed him. Four of them held him against the wall while the remaining three aimed their blades at his vital spots. Moon Knight struggled and growled, but their holds remained firm and death inched ever closer. It wouldn't be the end. Khoshnu would bring him back so long as he remained useful.

It did not mean he would go easy, however.

Just barely, he heard what sounded like the fluttering of wings overhead before the three poised to strike were suddenly convulsing on the ground. The ninjas looked to their fallen comrades in surprise and their grips loosened. Moon Knight cut one's throat before he grabbed another and headbutted him.

One of the remaining two was hit with what looked like a bolt of lightning and joined his convulsing allies. Moon Knight tackled the remaining one to the ground and stomped hard on his face twice before doing the same to the one he'd headbutted. Ninjas of the Hand learned to use chi in order to shut down their pain receptors. The only thing that could take them down was overwhelming and precise force.

Panting and barely keeping upright, Moon Knight stumbled forward and used a nearby vent to keep himself balanced. Someone had come to his aid, someone he hadn't formed an alliance with beforehand.

"That was messy." A woman landed in front of him. Even among himself and the incapacitated ninjas she stood out. A black and yellow suit that covered every inch of her body with two sets of crystalline blue wings at her back. Her head was covered with a helmet before she tapped its side and it suddenly retracted back into her suit to expose the face underneath.

She was beautiful. Her face lacked any scars or imperfections wand his short, auburn hair was styled in a short cut that complimented her features. Her mouth was quirked upwards in a cocky smile and she regarded him the same way one would look at a passing amusement.

He knew who she was. Janet van Dyne, alias the Wasp. It was difficult to live in New York without being aware of her identity. A scientist who founded the Dyne particles, the head of her own company, the owner of her own fashion line and a model in her own right. And also Superhero. Magazines touted her as a true modern day woman, someone for all to aspire to the same way one would Tony Stark or the fictional Captain America.

"Wasp...why did you help me?"

'Is that really the first think you should say?' Steven shook his head.

"Well, that's an odd way to say 'thank you'. From where I'm standing I just saved your life." She crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly, "Come on, it's not that hard. Say 'Thank you, Wasp'."

"You have my thanks." Regardless of her motivations he owed her his life.

"Could be a bit more sincere, but I'll take what I can get." She shrugged lightly, "As for why I helped you...well, when you see ninjas about to kill a guy out on a rooftop you get curious. These are the Hand, right? I've only seen them on videos but I know they're bad news. I figured that if you were fighting them you were either a good guy or a bad guy got on their bad side. Which one are you?"

"That would depend on your viewpoint. I found myself in conflict with their master and they saw fit to end my life."

"Wait...are you the ghost that's been running around trying to give Fisk a heart attack? Huh, I knew I should've recognized you. The white outfit's kind of a giveaway." She looked him up and down, "Well, it's mostly covered in blood, but still. Wasn't even sure you were real. No one had any videos of you and it sounded like some kind of scary story criminals tell themselves around a campfire."

'Quick, tell her you're not real. Maybe that'll scare her.' Jake snickered.

"You should not have gotten involved. If Fisk finds out of your rescue then he will come for you."

"What, you think I'm scared of an overgrown egg? I've dealt with worse." Cocky. She thought herself invincible. It would be the death of her if she wasn't careful, "I'm not exactly quaking in my boots here."

"If you are certain." No use in arguing with her.

"So I'd love to stay and chat with an actual bogeyman but I've got some stuff to do. Need me to take you to a hospital or something?"

"I have my own means of healing myself. Do not trouble yourself on my account."

"O...kay, if you say so. Maybe I'll see you around." She walked to the edge of the roof before she turned around, winked and let herself fall. The fluttering of wings came after and soon she was out of sight.

'Hubba hubba, I think I'm in love,' Jake whistled.

'It was an...interesting meeting. Perhaps she could be a useful ally?' Jake said.

Moon Knight said nothing and returned to his safehouse. As before he followed the same routine of patching over his more grievous injuries then spending the rest of the night meditating to heal his remaining wounds. Khoshnu could not give him abilities beyond those of humans, but this 'chi' allowed him to function beyond even normal limits. Oftentimes it was a necessity in this line of work.

The morning sun was high in the sky by the time his meditation finished. Marc dressed himself in a (slightly worn) suit and stepped outside of the abandoned building. He had failed. The operation would likely continue elsewhere and Fisk had gained a victory over him. He needed to convene with George Stacy in order to plan their next move.

Marc knew where he lived. A house in the suburbs of Queens that he moved to a few years prior. He took the train to the address and walked along the streets to the household. It was an odd experience. The last time he'd lived in anywhere similar was almost a decade prior. He left his family to join the army at 17 and hadn't gone back to Chicago outside of attending his father's funeral. His brother never forgave him for that.

The Stacy house was plain, almost picturesque in a way. Marc made his way to the door and knocked twice.

"I'll get it!" A loud, high pitched voice shouted. The door pulled back and he was greeted with a small blonde girl who looked up at him with curious blue eyes.

Marc forced a smile, "Hello. I'm here to see-"

"Gwen, who is it?" George Stacy stepped out of the kitchen and stopped when he saw him, "Um...can I help you?"

"Yes. We need to discuss our...partnership." It was vague enough, but judging by the way the older man's eyes hardened he understood. He stepped in front of the little girl and put her behind him, "Might we speak alone? This business is private."

"Gwen...go play with Peter for a bit, okay? I have a meeting."

"Okay. I'll see you later, dad!"

Gwen Stacy hugged her father briefly before running next door to her neighbor. Marc caught a brief glimpse of a brown haired, bespectacled child greeting her at the door before George Stacy suddenly grabbed him by his shirt collar and pulled him inside, "What the hell are you doing here?!" He snarled, slamming him against the wall with enough force to tip over a nearby vase, "Coming to my home? Are you insane?!"

"Plans have changed. I failed my mission a night prior and the Kingpin will be put on the defensive. I could not afford to wait."

"What do you mean you failed?" His grip loosened.

"Fisk was present at the site. I attempted to fight and I lost." Even now it still felt bitter to admit, "Now we need to continue on the offensive else we could lose whatever advantage we've mustered. Do you understand?"

"...Let's not talk here. There's a park I know around here." He put on a coat hanging nearby and grabbed his gun, "...Don't come to my house ever again."

"Understood."

He followed George outside. As they passed the garden he found his attention drawn to the two children playing on the neighbor's front yard. Gwen Stacy and her friend. Nothing more than ordinary children, but for some reason he felt the tug of Khoshnu at the back of his mind. He shook his head and ignored it. It wasn't his concern. Right now his only focus was the Kingpin.


End of the first (and possibly only) Moon Knight chapter. As mentioned above I'm going for a more Gotham vibe so we see some changes in the characters: Moon Knight is mostly the same but hasn't gotten used to switching personalities yet; George Stacy is active and in an angry place since it's after his wife's recent death; Wasp is cocky and egotistical rather than mature and the voice of reason etc etc.

This also allows me to show off a bit of Wilson Fisk since he was killed off-screen in Looking Glass. Here he's Moon Knight's main antagonist while Matt plays more of a support/observer role. We know Moon Knight is doomed to fail stopping Matt but Fisk and other baddies are fair game.

Questions:

1. So what do you guys think of the chapter? Like it? Hate it? Interested in future updates? Regardless of the answer the next chapter will go back tot he Morbius arc so we can get some lighter stuff and more NoirGwen couple-y interactions.

2. This is more a character question, but do you guys consider Cindy to be Laura's mom or not? A friend mentioned that Cindy felt less like a mother and more like a big sister or a glorified babysitter than Laura's parent given their interactions.

Review Answers:

rc48177 - Jessica and Luke didn't really 'settle down', though. They're both active heroes. Also, Lana and Noir are fraying? I don't recall writing them as arguing or becoming distant.

RedHood001 - Why would Gwen have to reveal herself? As long as Peter doesn't let anyone follow him back home Gwen can keep her identity secret. Not like they're the type to have a public wedding.

Brave2000 - She's not 100% symbiote, but she's a superhuman with a unique genetic structure making her immune to radiation. Also, sexual tension? Lana's moving on from her crush.

ToastyIce - Problem is telling the kids that their dad is a killer vigilante.

Demon dark mezzo sangue - The Batfam is also memetically dysfunctional with Bruce being a terrible father in a lot of story arcs. As for Tony providing Noir tech...why bother? Moon Knight already provides Noir with technology. His guns, the motorcycles and various other gadgets come from Moon Knight. That and Stark likely doesn't care about Noir. He's too small time to bother with.

Krolikson - Why criticize if people keep asking for it? Also, not a fan and don't plan to watch.

Yohart Meltz - The problem is kids. Hard to raise a kids when one is a Superhero and the other is technically a wanted vigilante.