The air was crisp as Alexander stood atop a high-rise building, gazing down at the city that never slept. The lights flickered below, oblivious to the new force moving in the shadows. The world was reacting to his presence—SHIELD was watching, crime syndicates were whispering, and HYDRA's remnants were scrambling to regroup. Yet, amidst all of this, another power was stirring—AIM, Advanced Idea Mechanics.
Noctis appeared behind him, his voice barely above a whisper. "We intercepted communications. Kingpin, AIM, and The Hand are making inquiries. They want to know who took out HYDRA's Manhattan division."
Alexander smirked, his fingers tracing the railing lightly. "They'll find out soon enough."
Vasili emerged next, his expression void of emotion. "AIM has ramped up its security. They suspect interference in their latest black-market dealings. There's a shipment scheduled for tonight at the docks. Weapons-grade technology."
Alexander turned slightly. "Stark's?"
Vasili nodded. "Stolen prototypes. If AIM distributes them, the balance shifts."
Alexander cracked his knuckles, a shadowy mist seeping from his fingers. "Then we shift it back."
The docks were quiet, save for the hum of cargo loaders moving crates into an unmarked truck. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter, their weapons gleaming under the floodlights. At the center of it all, an AIM scientist in a sleek, reinforced suit monitored the operation. His name—Dr. Alrich Vaughn, a mid-level AIM researcher with clearance over weapons manufacturing.
He tapped into his communicator. "ETA on the final shipment?"
A voice crackled back. "Ten minutes. Make sure the tech is intact before transport."
Alexander observed from a vantage point, his shadows flickering restlessly. Noctis and Vasili were already in position, their presence undetectable. This wasn't just a typical black-market deal—AIM was arming factions that would reshape the battlefield in ways that threatened both civilians and power players alike.
A low voice crackled in Alexander's earpiece. "On your mark."
He gave the signal.
Like a storm rolling in, the abyss surged forward. Shadows wrapped around unsuspecting guards, pulling them into the void before they could react. Suppressed gunfire rattled through the air as Noctis eliminated the perimeter defenses with swift precision, slicing through the throats of AIM operatives before they could scream.
One of the remaining guards managed to shout, "We're under atta—" before Vasili's blade silenced him.
Dr. Vaughn turned, confusion flashing across his face before realization set in. He reached for his communicator, but before he could issue a distress call, the darkness surrounded him.
From the shadows, a voice murmured, "Going somewhere?"
Alexander stepped out, his violet gaze locking onto the scientist with an eerie glow.
"You're interfering with my business," Alexander said smoothly.
Vaughn swallowed hard, his eyes darting between the shadows shifting around them. "W-Who are you?"
Alexander tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening. "Your nightmare."
The crates around them began to disintegrate as abyssal tendrils wrapped around them, pulling the stolen Stark tech into the void. AIM's hard-earned shipment—gone in an instant. Vaughn stumbled back, his breathing shallow. He knew what AIM did to failures. He wouldn't make it out of this alive, not if Alexander didn't kill him first.
"You don't know what you're doing!" Vaughn stammered. "You think you can stop AIM? We have resources beyond what you can imagine!"
Alexander took a step forward, his presence suffocating. "I know exactly what I'm doing."
With a flick of his fingers, shadows lashed out, pinning Vaughn to the metal container behind him.
Alexander studied him for a moment before glancing at Noctis. "Make sure he delivers a message."
Noctis smirked. "Consider it done."
The last thing Vaughn saw before the abyss consumed his vision was the flicker of violet light in Alexander's eyes.
Nick Fury stood in front of a screen displaying surveillance footage from the docks. The operation was executed with surgical precision—no evidence, no survivors except one, and no trace of the stolen Stark tech. It was as if the entire shipment had been swallowed by an unknown force.
Maria Hill folded her arms, her brows furrowing. "This is getting out of hand."
Fury's expression was unreadable. "No ordinary criminal group pulls this off. This was deliberate."
Hill turned to him. "We know it wasn't HYDRA, and it wasn't the Avengers. So who?"
Fury's single eye narrowed. "That's exactly what we need to find out."
Hill hesitated. "What if whoever did this already knows we're watching?"
Fury exhaled slowly. "Then we're already playing catch-up."
The penthouse was dimly lit, with only the glow of the city skyline visible through the massive glass windows. Alexander sat in a sleek leather chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest. A glass of dark whiskey rested on the table beside him, untouched.
Noctis and Vasili stood nearby, waiting for their next move.
"We've disrupted their operations," Vasili stated, his tone measured. "AIM will be forced to rethink their distribution strategy."
Alexander swirled the whiskey in his glass, his expression contemplative. "Good. But this was just a message."
Noctis smirked slightly. "And what's the next step?"
Alexander's violet eyes glowed as he looked out over the city. "We make sure they never forget it."
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