The city was shifting, its balance crumbling as the war Alexander had started began to spiral out of control. AIM, SHIELD, and Kingpin were all making moves. But Alexander had never been one to wait.
Tonight, he would strike first.
Wilson Fisk's empire ran deep, stretching across the city like an unbreakable web. His fortress-like compound, hidden behind layers of security, was thought to be impenetrable. No one dared to challenge him directly.
Until now.
The night was still, an eerie silence hanging over the vast estate. Guards patrolled the perimeter in shifts, their eyes scanning the darkness for threats. The air was thick with tension, yet none of them realized the inevitable had already begun.
The shadows moved.
A guard at the main gate felt a sudden chill at the back of his neck. Before he could react, a hand of pure darkness gripped him, dragging him into the abyss.
Another guard heard the muffled struggle and turned, his rifle raised. His lips parted to shout a warning, but a shadowy blade pierced his throat before a sound could escape. His body collapsed soundlessly.
From the control room inside the compound, a security officer tapped on his screen, frowning as several cameras flickered with static. He leaned closer to the monitors. "Something's wrong…"
A second later, the feed cut to black.
Panic rippled through the compound. Guards scrambled, issuing orders into their earpieces. But the enemy was already among them.
Within minutes, the outer defenses were dismantled.
From the rooftop of an adjacent building, Alexander observed, his violet eyes glowing like an omen of death. His black coat billowed slightly in the cold night breeze as he surveyed the chaos below.
Noctis appeared beside him. "We're inside. Fisk's security won't hold."
Alexander's smirk was unreadable. "Good. Then let's deliver the message."
Fisk sat in his private office, completely unaware of the storm brewing within his walls. He was reviewing intelligence reports, his enforcers feeding him updates on Alexander's movements. But their information was already outdated.
A soft chime echoed through the room.
Fisk's eyes narrowed as he pressed a button on his desk. "Report."
Static.
A flicker of annoyance passed over his massive frame. He tried again. "Status update."
Nothing.
He reached for his communicator, dialing his head of security. A single ring. Then silence.
Fisk's expression darkened. Something was wrong.
Then the lights flickered.
The massive chandelier overhead swayed slightly. The air grew unnaturally cold. The shadows in the corners of the room deepened, stretching unnaturally across the walls.
And then he heard it.
A whisper. Low. Menacing.
"You've been looking for me."
Fisk turned sharply, his fists clenching. "Show yourself."
The shadows twisted, coalescing into a figure standing in the dim light.
Alexander.
His violet eyes glowed, his posture calm, unshaken. "Your men have been quite busy trying to find a weakness in me." He tilted his head slightly. "It's a shame they won't be reporting back."
Fisk's jaw tightened. "Do you think you scare me? I own this city."
Alexander chuckled. "Not anymore."
With a flick of his wrist, the abyss surged forward.
Fisk barely had time to react before his entire office erupted into chaos.
Shadows erupted from the walls, latching onto furniture, tearing through the room like a living entity. His desk was consumed in an instant, shattered into splinters. The very air around him seemed to pulse with an oppressive, crushing weight.
Fisk grabbed a custom-forged steel cane, reinforced to withstand immense pressure, and swung it at the approaching darkness. The cane whistled through the air, but it passed through empty void.
Alexander was faster.
In a blur, he was in front of Fisk, a blade of pure shadow pressed against the crime lord's thick throat.
"You've built your empire on fear," Alexander whispered. "Tonight, you'll learn what real fear feels like."
Maria Hill's voice was sharp over the comms. "Fisk's compound is under attack. We have eyes on a shadow-based entity—this is our moment."
Nick Fury leaned forward, watching the satellite feed. It was happening too fast. Guards disappearing, surveillance cutting out—SHIELD had never seen anything like it.
"Move in," Fury ordered. "We need him contained. Now."
A tactical strike team had already been mobilized. Black SUVs sped through the city, racing toward Fisk's compound with military precision. Armed agents prepped their weapons, their orders clear: engage the unknown target and bring him in.
Inside the compound, Fisk's heavy breathing filled the air, his massive frame still as the cold blade of darkness hovered near his throat. Sweat beaded along his temple, but his expression remained defiant.
"If you kill me, you'll be starting a war," Fisk growled.
Alexander leaned in slightly, his smirk deepening. "You think it hasn't already started?"
Before Fisk could respond, a deafening explosion rocked the compound.
The room shuddered as SHIELD's strike team breached the perimeter. The sound of heavy boots stomping through the halls echoed through the air, orders being shouted over comms.
Alexander's eyes flickered toward the doorway. "Looks like we have guests."
Fisk saw his opportunity. With a sudden roar, he swung his steel cane, aiming for Alexander's ribs. But the attack met nothing but air.
The moment Fisk blinked, Alexander was already gone.
The last thing Fisk heard before darkness swallowed the room was a cold whisper in his ear.
"This isn't over."
The War Had Officially Begun.
And Alexander was in the center of it all.
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