They came to a stop, shortly followed by Spider-Man and then by Eddie on his skates. There was no need for them to speak. As Axel and Blaze shared a look, both of them knew what the other was thinking. Some things never changed. Wood Oak City, even when it had become subject once again to Mr X's criminal endeavours, retained its glamour. The heavy rain had ceased, taking with it daylight. Flashy neon signs added to the general modern splendour and made otherwise drab buildings into locales for stalkers of the night to frequent. On a good night, the nightclubs lining the street would have been full and had long lines outside. But not even the wildest of party animals was crazy enough to try and get access into what had turned into one of the all-seeing crime lord's private venues.
When Axel took a quick look around, he took in the air. A feeling of familiarity washed over him. These streets were that friend he hadn't seen in years or that uncle who only came to every other family reunion. His fists were tight, coursing with adrenaline only matched by Blaze who with a deep inhale readied her fighting stance one fist apprehensively up while the other was down. Staggered back, most of Blaze's weight was shifted to her right leg, poised and ready to kick. She looked over at Axel as he got into a stance similar to that of a boxer. He put on a serious, almost grim face, too focused to notice her smile. Blaze knew him well and knew better. He was as excited as she was. Excited, and determined to rescue their best friend.
Spider-Man on the other hand felt no such familiarity. He was a stranger in a strange land. The neon lights only reminded him how far away he was from New York and how the entire city seemed to glow after the midday sun started to retreat. There was one thing Spider-Man shared in common with Axel and co. He too wanted his loved one back. His sweet Mary-Jane. And, though he would leave voicing such dark thoughts to Wolverine or the Punisher, he wanted vengeance against Mr X. Felicia had told him too little about him. He had kidnapped his wife. Knowing that was enough. Head forward, and with a goal in mind that seemed more far off than the thugs in the distance, Spider-Man crouched in position.
Eddie would be lying if he said his arms were only shaking because he hadn't brought a jacket, leaving out only in his sunshine-yellow shirt. He was wracked with fear. Utterly terrified. He could never tell the others that, or it would prove right what everyone thought of him; that he was just a child. No. He wasn't a child. He was every bit as strong and capable as his brother was. No - he was twice as capable.
If only Eddie believed that truly.
The group could not idly stand by any longer. Off in the distance, a group of punks with mohawks and gaudy-looking yellow jackets (Blaze hated that particular brand of thug more for their crimes against fashion than their punchable faces) noticed a sight for sore eyes. They grinned collectively. Beating Axel and Blaze black and blue would be a delight, and would surely earn the respect of their new boss. Adam's brother was the icing on the cake. They didn't think much of the guy in the costume. Although, to Spider-Man, with their agonizingly bright outfits, they looked more like the superheroes that fought similar goons than actual goons.
Like a pack of wolves, they slowly began to advance.
"Eddie. Stay behind me," Axel ordered in a tone that would make the most unruly of children obey. The boy didn't have time to nod, much less verbally voice his frustration with how he was clearly considered as nothing more than a liability. Slow footsteps had turned to shuffling and then full-on sprinting, the distance between the heroes and their foes rapidly decreasing as they both ran towards each other.
With two of their opponents being a year out of practice, the third wearing an outfit that wouldn't look out of place at a Halloween bash, and the fourth a mere child, Mr X's employ thought they would come out on top.
Fortunately, they did not.
The fight did not turn in Axel and co's favour. It was in their favour from the very beginning, from the first grunt sent flying into a pole from the blonde's Grand Upper, it was clear that going twelve months without combat meant nothing. To the ex-cops, slugging out came naturally. It was as if it was part of their very being. Glass shattered as heads were knocked through windows by Blaze's graceful but fierce kicks. Spider-Man turned the tide of battle further, using web fluid to encase one foe in a sticky cocoon and then throw them into an incoming horde of their allies. Eddie even managed to manoeuvre around on his roller skates and get a few sneaky hits in. He was shocked by how hard he hit. Or maybe his opponents were just that weak, growling after being hurt and then getting back up to take another beating. Their language was fittingly uncivilised. Instead, their communication was through distorted grunts and growls, almost animal-like in nature.
"Hey, what's with these guys? How come they don't talk at all?" Spider-Man questioned. His Spider-Sense alerted him to a goon trying to sneak up behind. An elbow to the chest dealt with him quite swiftly.
Axel allowed two Y-Signals (he'd chosen that name for this particular variant of punk due to the insignia on their jackets resembling said letter) on either side of him to throw punches. Before they could connect, he jumped into the air, drawing blood and then some with a spinning kick. "Probably too busy getting their asses kicked," He remarked with a rare smirk brought on by the fun of battle.
"And why are they all wearing the same outfit? Is there some kind of group discount at Bad-Guys-R-Us?"
"Spider-Man, are you always this talkative?"
"Actually, I'm in one of my less quippy moods," he replied to Blaze. Fighting alongside each other, her leg strikes took care of what he couldn't web up.
Eddie had no problem taking on his share of Y-Signals and the like. His problem was that there were so many of them. For every one knocked down there seemed to be about ten more, an endless amount of goons replacing their comrades taking a nap on the street corner. If the quartet of crime fighters didn't kill them, their medical bills surely would.
For all their effort it looked as if no progress was being made, and the longer they went on, the more chance Mr.X got tired and ended up changing his brother's fate on a cruel whim. The reality was these grunts were naught but a distraction from the true goal. Alas, the others would never see things his way, unable to consider a child being the voice of reason. Eddie didn't bother letting them know he was going and slipped out of their sight as the three were distracted.
Neon lights brighter than fireworks faded into obscurity as Eddie skated down an alleyway. He'd been warned by Adam that this was no place for boys his age, especially at night. His fear heightened. Gone was the wideness of Wood Oak City's streets, replaced by walls that closed in and choked the air itself. Eddie certainly felt as if he couldn't breathe, what with the fear clogged in his throat. He shouted out, hoping someone would come to his aid, hoping to hear Axel's familiar cry. No one answered. He skated faster. The alleyway was so pitch-black that someone could've been right behind him and he wouldn't have known. Suddenly, he felt himself collide with someone. Or something. Whatever it was, they had a chest harder than stone. Eddie snuck a quick glance as he adjusted his cap, and had to crane his neck up. Stood in front of him was a man with a bright orange mohawk and psychotic eyes that stared into the depths of his being. The more Eddie stood, frozen in place by terror, the more the man's pupils dilated. He'd heard the stories of Mad Jack. Eddie never figured they were anything more than just that, and here he was, face to chest with the man. Mad Jack was 6'3 and giddily twirling a knife. All the while his eyes did not move from his next victim.
"Hey! I recognise you. Adam's little brother, right?"
Eddie did not answer. Words wanted to, fought to, but could not come out.
"If I can't nail the man himself, I'll just have to settle for brother dearest!"
Mad Jack's fighting style was every bit as unhinged as his appearance suggested. His assault was frenetic, each attempt at making a dent in flesh full of more energy than the last. Eddie found it in him to move and weave around the knife. He fought for his life. His assailant revelled in his prey's desperation, so much so that he cackled throughout.
He slashed. Eddie dodged. He slashed again, managing to make a small tear in Eddie's shirt. That was when Eddie gave in to the voice in his head telling him that alone, he would not survive this night. At the top of his lungs, Eddie screamed.
At the sound of Eddie's cry, the trio abandoned the few grunts still left standing and followed the sound. He was in danger. Blaze looked down at a closed fist. She blamed herself. Had she not been so preoccupied, he would have noticed his absence. Blaze led the charge, Axel running by her side. Someone had hurt Eddie. That someone would receive no mercy from either of them. Frantic legs descended upon the street and turned into an alley, and she gasped at a man simultaneously familiar and loathed! Axel quickly grabbed poor Eddie. Later he'd certainly scold him, but for the moment his priority was keeping the boy away from that madman's clutches.
"Mad Jack." Blaze faced indiscriminate chaos with an undaunted gaze. She'd bested Mad Jack before, with and without Axel's help. She wasn't scared. Creeped out, yes, but not at all scared.
"Blaze Fielding.."
She cringed at his utterance of her name, eyes on and all over her in the same way so many eyes had been on her during her time as a dance instructor. What made her nose turn up even more was how his smile had twisted, corners of his mouth upturned in a position that looked like it would put any normal person through hell to maintain. Blaze figured he'd lost his humanity a long time ago, like her fellow officers. Good people corrupted by money and other such vices.
"Still looking as hot as ever, I see." Feeling leering eyes, Blaze folded apprehensive arms around her chest and scowled at his words. Wearing a strapless red tube top and a short skirt of the same colour, Blaze knew the gaze of strangers all too well. She did not wear what she wore for them. She did it for her own personal comfort. On more occasions than she would've liked, she had to remind her opponents to keep their focus on the fight and not her body.
"Axel, keep Eddie safe. Spider-Man, you go with them. This one's all mine."
"So it's just me and you then, doll?" A full set of razor-sharp teeth showed as the madman grinned.
"Doll? DOLL?!" She repeated, outraged. "Blaze Fielding is nobody's doll!"
The flames of battle already in Blaze grew higher with his words and her fists made contact with his face. In her mind, she wasn't just beating up some knife-wielding maniac. Using Mad Jack as a stand-in for all the men who had belittled or demeaned her, Blaze held back nothing. Mad Jack felt the full force of her fury and staggered back onto a brick wall. Blow after blow, merciless punch after merciless punch, was unleashed upon him for what felt like hours, until, if only for a moment, she stopped. The ex-cop had exhausted herself, chest heaving. While Mad Jack had not faded into a world of unconsciousness as she may have hoped, a busted upper lip and a bruised, swollen left eye suggested he wouldn't be fighting back anytime soon.
"Am I still your doll now?" But her wit would receive no reply.
Perhaps they had both underestimated each other; for, out of the corner of her eye, Blaze noticed a knife rushing towards her stomach quicker than even her reflexes could block. She felt a searing pain like nothing she'd ever felt before as the knife pierced her stomach, blood splattering onto the floor. Now lying at his feet, she groaned, her legs refusing to work. Blaze couldn't believe it. Bested by some mere criminal?!
Powered by prideful anger, Blaze rose to her feet. A look in the woman's eyes, fiercer than the brightest fires of hell, managed to unnerve Mad Jack.
"Probably thought you got me real good, huh? Thought I wouldn't get back up?"
"I…" Blood sputtered from his mouth as he attempted to utter a syllable.
"BLAZE FIELDING LOSES TO NO ONE!"
Her legs promptly struck him across the face more times than he probably deserved, knocking out any remaining teeth. She drove her fists into his already bleeding face, again and again, over and over, until it only vaguely bore a resemblance to anything human. Blaze would have continued to beat him; had she not heard a familiar blonde calling her name. Dropping a long unconscious body, she ran towards the voice without care for Mad Jack's fate. Frankly, he deserved what she'd done to him, and more.
"Yeah? Everything okay, Axel?" She tilted her head, unsure of why he was staring at her with such wide eyes.
"I could ask you the same question! There's blood all over your face and stomach. What kind of trouble did you run into?"
"Oh, it was nothing." She groaned. Axel's reminding of her wound brought back a world of pain. Suddenly Blaze tripped on a rock that wasn't there.
Oddly, she had not fallen flat onto her face. Blaze instead found herself in the arms of Axel.
"My hero," she cooed, smiling weakly as she looked up at him. He smiled back. Axel's eyes, slightly squinting, were a gateway to emotion that his face seldom showed.
One part of Blaze considered it a curse that these quiet moments between them only occurred whenever Wood Oak City was on the brink of collapse. Another thought it was a blessing they happened at all.
Eddie turned his head, placing a finger on his tongue in disgust and protest. Adults weren't supposed to do lovey-dovey stuff while other people were around. It was wrong. Not to mention totally gross.
Spider-Man interjected, coughing loud enough to bring them back to reality.
"If you two lovebirds are done, I think I've found our next lead."
The two "lovebirds" looked to him, then to what his costumed fingers were pointing at; the local bar. Despite a swanky new LED sign, the interior retained a quiet, rustic charm.
Except that charm was no longer there. Great commotion inside was complemented by even greater destruction outside, some windows half-cracked, others fully broken into. Eddie peered through, out of childlike curiosity, his heels as far from the ground as they could possibly be without jumping. Even then, he could barely see.
"Looks like some more o' those guys from earlier, and...no way." Eddie's jaw stayed wide open. Swords. Katanas. Masked warriors. It looked like a display straight out of a kung-fu movie, except the seemingly impossible acrobatics were not being performed by stunt doubles, and these men were certainly not acting.
By the time they had entered the bar, Mr.X's paid muscle were more than taken care of. Some had been made to lie face-down in a pool of their own blood. Others suffered a far worse fate. Others died.
"These guys," Spider-Man said to the others, stepping past piles of unconscious men, "I know them. They're The Hand. A group of ninjas from my neck of the woods. But what're they doing here?"
He found an answer sooner than any of them anticipated. From a darkened, previously invisible corner of the ceiling, a slender form leapt in front of them.
NEXT: Enter...Elektra!