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Inside the police station, Nathan was sitting in the interrogation room, nervously shifting in his seat. A male and a female officer sat across from him.
"Nathan?"
"Yes, officer," Nathan replied timidly.
The female officer smiled.
"Relax, Nathan. This isn't an interrogation. You're just the only survivor from the scene, and we have a few questions for you. Hope you don't mind."
"Sure, officer."
Seeing how cooperative he was, the two officers nodded.
"Can you tell us exactly what happened inside that building?"
Nathan told them everything he saw—every little detail. But as he spoke, the officers gradually started frowning.
A while later, the two of them stepped out with the transcript of the interview.
"So? Did he spill everything?"
The female officer nodded.
"Yeah, he talked. The thing is..."
"What?"
The male officer handed over the report and sighed.
"Just read it."
The other officer flipped open the notebook and read word for word.
A moment later, his eyes widened in disbelief.
"What the hell? Vampires? A vampire hunter?! Are you sure this guy isn't just making stuff up?"
The female officer shrugged helplessly.
"We wish he was. But judging by his facial expressions, he wasn't lying."
"Couldn't he just be faking it?"
"Doesn't seem like it. Even pro actors can't fake microexpressions. Besides, we checked his background—guy's clean."
The officer flipped back through the records. Sure enough, Nathan's file was thorough. According to it, he was just some kid who graduated high school and started working right away. Last night was actually his first day on the job at Eustor Company.
"Man's first day at work and he walks into this nightmare. Talk about bad luck."
"What are you guys chatting about? Done with the reports yet?"
Just as the officers were trying to wrap their heads around things, a stern voice rang out. A man in uniform walked into the station.
"Chief George!"
"Morning, Chief!"
"Good morning, Chief George!"
"Not a good morning for me. Can someone please explain what the hell is going on?"
George Stacy—the head of the NYPD. A tough-as-nails leader. Under his watch, the city had remained relatively stable.
But today? Today he was not in a good mood.
He got a call first thing in the morning saying some major incident went down in downtown New York. He was so rattled, he skipped breakfast and rushed straight over—didn't even get a chance to drive his precious daughter to school.
"Here's what happened, Chief..."
The female officer stepped up and gave a full rundown. As George listened, his frown deepened.
"A shootout inside Eustor Real Estate? Eight weird dried-up corpses? Dozens of employees vanished overnight? And the CEO's missing too?!"
George rubbed his temples. He was starting to wonder if he was still dreaming.
"Any leads?"
"One, sir. There's a survivor who witnessed everything. But..."
"But what?"
"I think he's... mentally unstable. Might be delusional."
She handed over Nathan's statement.
George read through it, and his eyebrows just kept furrowing deeper.
"Chief!"
A young officer ran into the room.
"What is it?"
"We pulled the security footage from Eustor last night."
Hearing that, George finally looked a little relieved.
"Good. Let's go take a look."
But before they could leave, several men in black suits and sunglasses walked into the station.
The one leading them took off his glasses and gave a friendly smile.
"Who the hell are you people?" George demanded, clearly annoyed.
"Good morning, Chief. We're from the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. Name's Coulson—here's my badge."
He handed over his credentials.
George gave it a glance, then waved off the other officers and invited Coulson into his office.
"Agent Coulson. What can I help you with?"
"About the incident last night—we're officially taking over."
"And why's that? You think we can't handle it?"
George sounded less than pleased.
"No, not at all. This came straight from the higher-ups."
Coulson handed over a classified document.
George looked it over in silence.
Seeing this, Coulson continued, "Chief, I hope you understand. This case involves things way above your usual jurisdiction. We're talking supernatural stuff. If word got out, it could cause mass panic. We really need your cooperation."
George let out a long sigh. On one hand, letting S.H.I.E.L.D. take over meant he wouldn't have to deal with this mess. On the other hand, it felt like they were saying the NYPD wasn't good enough.
"I'll let you take it. But only after I see the surveillance footage."
"That might not be possible. Orders from above—"
"Agent Coulson, that's my only condition."
"...Fine."
They sat down and pulled up the footage from the night before.
What George saw completely shattered his understanding of the world. In all his years on the force, he'd never seen anything so insane.
After the video ended, Coulson took the file—the only copy.
"I'd appreciate it if you kept this to yourself, Chief. Technically, I already broke protocol by showing you this."
"I understand."
"Thanks for your cooperation."
Coulson shook his hand, put his sunglasses back on, and left.
Once he was gone, George rubbed his temples again, still processing everything.
"Chief! That guy just took the witness with him!"
An officer burst in to report.
George waved his hand.
"Let him. We're done with this case. Tell everyone—it's top secret. Not a word gets out."
"Yes, sir!"
High up aboard a S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, a bald man with a single eye stared at the surveillance footage from Eustor Company.
"Director, everything's been handled."
Coulson walked into the office to report in.
"You've worked hard, Coulson. Go take a break."
Without saying much, Coulson quietly left the room.
The man narrowed his one remaining eye, staring at the two figures on the screen.
"Blade and the Punisher… What are the odds? Those two running into each other. But maybe that's a good thing—two unpredictable variables in one place are better than scattered all over."
The screen suddenly shifted, showing a new red silhouette.
"But who the hell is this guy? Is that you, Stark? Or someone else?"
The image became clearer—no doubt about it—it was Drive, in his Speed form.
"....."