General POV
New York, the City That Never Sleeps. The streets are never quiet, people either partied through the night, college students stayed up late to reach their project deadlines, and worst of all. Criminals prowled the streets, searching for their next easy score.
They went unchecked, nobody was sure why. Some people believe that the cops are just simply understaffed, but most assumed they'd been paid off.
Harlem, one of New York's many districts. Leo narrowed his eyes as he observed the neighborhood from a rooftop. Cloaked in darkness, he wore a black hoodie, dark jeans, and a gray cloth mask to obscure his appearance.
The city wasn't safe, and Leo didn't have the power to change that. He had no special gifts, training, or weapons, but he wasn't going to let that stop him.
If he wanted real powers, he'd have to level up.
For now, all he could do was observe and study. Like Grand Admiral Thrawn once said: "To defeat your enemy, you must know your enemy."
Leo POV
"Nana nana nana, Batman." I hummed the iconic theme under my breath, because obviously any rooftop stakeout could use a theme song.
I've been up here for three hours, three hours of cold air, bad takeout fumes drifting up from an alley, and me pretending I wasn't bored out of my mind.
My research flagged a spike of gang activity in the area, Crimson Blade tags covered half the walls within a two-block radius. Their logo looked like it was designed by an emo teen: a silver blade with a twisted handle and a silky trail of red. Clearly, they were master edge lords.
Still, edge or not. They were dangerous, which meant the only realistic plan was patience.
I'd planned this like a DLC mission. Don't go full hero yet. Pick a mark, tail them, learn their routines, follow the breadcrumbs to a hideout. Don't bite off more than you can chew. Leveling up first, then beat the bad guys, maybe rob them.
A scream cut through the night, sharp and high, terrified. It dropped me out of my internal monologue like a brick to the face.
My boots found the roof's gravel odd, firm, measured. Parkour felt like knowing the walkthrough of a game without having ever played it: my brain knew how to move, but my body lacked the experience. The Gacha gifted me Ezio's library of moves, but not the hours or experience that built those reflexes. It's like playing some sort of super realistic sword fighting VR game, and expecting those moves to translate to real life.
I pushed off the parapet, the wind slapped me in the face. The jump was textbook perfection, tuck, roll, use the edge to push off, but my legs screamed like they'd been betrayed. I clipped a gutter on the second hop; concrete came up fast. The city smells, hot metal, subway diesel, and something that smelled sweet.
Below me was an alley, nearly pitch black except for a thin spill of light. Three guys hovered around a girl, circling like sharks that smelled blood. They wore jeans and hoodies, but each hoodie was a separate color, gray, navy, and dark green. Predictable, and ugly.
My brain ran a quick simulation. 'Three opponents, First move: drop onto Blue's back for momentum. Second: cripple Gray's knee with an outward kick. Third: sucker punch Green while he's reeling.' A decent plan in theory, but theories don't always hold up.
One could have a knife, another could have a gun. Hell, one could even be a mutant. I was outnumbered, out-equipped, and under-skilled. The iconic Telltale prompt flashed through my head; This action will have consequences.
Still, I couldn't stand there and watch a girl vanish into a van.
Crouched behind the roof's edge, breath steaming, muscles coiled. My palms felt slick despite the cold. I cracked my knuckles to calm the tremor in my hands, a weird superstition that somehow steadied me.
"Hey, let the girl go!" A voice called out.
'Huh?" That wasn't me.
???? POV
Every day, Harlem got worse. Criminals roamed the streets, gangs shook down mom-and-pop shops for "protection," and young girls went missing.
"Hey! Leave the girl alone!" My voice thundered down the alley.
The three froze, I could see it in their eyes. They were sizing me up, trying to figure out if they could take me.
"Stay out of this!" One of the guys sneered, waving me off like I was nothing.
Wrong answer.
"Trust me, you don't want this smoke." He lifted his shirt, flashing a pistol tucked in his waistband.
I kept walking, steady. "Trust me… that thing won't do much."
He ripped the gun free and shoved it in my face.
"Didn't you hear me? Step off or else, you damn N—"
Oh, hell no.
Before he could finish, I clamped my hand around the barrel.
BANG!
The shot went off point-blank. Sparks danced in the dark. The bullet flattened against my palm like cheap foil.
"… What the-"
I crushed his wrist like it was chalk in my grip, the bones snapped with a sickening CRACK! He howled in pain, the sound echoed through the alley, but I was used to it
With a flick, I hurled him into the brick wall. His body hit hard and slumped, he was out cold.
"You bastard!" The second guy charged at me, his fist slammed into my stomach with all his weight.
Another CRACK! His hand broke on impact. He screamed, cradling the mangled mess of his knuckles.
A quick backhand sent him flying into a dumpster with a thunderous CLANG! The metal caved under the impact.
The last was shaking, pale as a ghost. His mouth ran faster than his brain. "L-Look, I don't even know them! They threatened me! Said they'd burn my house down if I didn't help!"
He was lying, spend enough time in the joint, you can tell who's honest and who's bullshitting.
I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground, his feet kicked helplessly against my stomach. I cocked my fist back, ready to end this. "Final chance. Who the hell are you working for?"
"The- The Crimson Blade!" He gasped.
"Thanks."
With a controlled punch, I knocked him out cold. His body dropped like dead weight.
Leo POV
'Well, that was terrifying.'
Black, buff, bald, bulletproof. Yeap, that's Luke Cage, or as some people call him. Power Man, it's a corny name, but damn, the guy lived up to it.
From the looks of it, he's investigating The Crimson Blade too. It made sense, half their victims were Black girls from Harlem. In most universes, the only reason he becomes a hero is to protect his community. As bad as it sounds, I could use that to my advantage.
This universe was overflowing with danger, and I was outnumbered. Doom had his Doom Bots. Hydra had their Nazi army, and The Skrulls had their whole damn race. Me? All I have is Om Nom and some jawbreakers.
If I wanted to survive Marvel, I needed allies. People who could stand with me when the big fights came, or when the inevitable Civil War broke out.
I had to be careful, Luke wasn't the most trusting guy. Maybe I should pull a Nick Fury, recruit him, and claim I was building a team. Technically, I was forming an organization, but close enough.
'A group willing to protect the world… and fight the fights nobody else could.'
The problem was, I had no skills, resources, or money to back it up.
I sighed. 'Yeah… I think I'll call it a night.'
On Nom POV
🎵 "Come with me, and you'll be
In a world of pure imagination…" 🎵
'It's beautiful.'
"I'm home!" Leo called, stepping through the door. "Are you watching TV?"
'Is that what it's called?'
"And are you watching Willy Wonka?"
'Is that the name of the candy maker? He's incredible.'
Leo sat beside me. "How did you even turn the TV on?"
'I used that black rectangle, like you did.'
He picked it up. "What else is on?" He pressed a button.
The candy man vanished, replaced by a man in a strange outfit: "Cease your simian siege now, Gorilla Grodd!"
Leo blinked. "It's kinda weird how DC exists in the Marvel universe, I wonder if—"
I leapt onto his arm, clawing frantically. 'Go back! Go back!'
"Alright, alright!" He switched the channel.
Willy Wonka returned. Perfection restored.
"Geez, enjoy the movie I guess."
'I will.'