Season 2, Episode 19 — City of Rumors (Interlude)
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Cold Open — News at 11
A newsroom lit too bright. The anchor shuffled papers she didn't need and looked into the camera with eyes trained not to blink.
"Developing tonight: the mysterious 'steel-faced vigilante' who helped bring down what witnesses describe as a floating cathedral on the Hudson. Hundreds were rescued from what officials refuse to call a terrorist incident. The Coast Guard has confirmed wreckage, but bodies recovered so far are… wrong."
Footage rolled. Chopper cam: Zack on the sinking deck, Hearthchain dragging a line of civilians. Luna hurling herself into a Priest's chest. Silas on the bell, coin flashing.
"Some are calling them heroes. Others—vigilantes. City Hall has issued no comment. NYPD cites an ongoing investigation. But one thing is clear: New York is not sleeping."
The anchor shuffled her notes again. The smile she gave the camera was paper-thin. "And neither is the internet."
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Act I — Hashtags and Teeth
Phone screens lit the night across boroughs.
• #SteelFangs trended first. Clips showed Zack's eyes glowing like weld arcs. Memes spliced him into Marvel posters: The Invincible Intern.
• #AxeQueen trended second. Luna's spin with the fireaxe got slowed down, set to pop songs, captioned "When she's toxic but she saves your life."
• Silas didn't trend. Instead, grainy stills called him the Coin Man, half urban legend, half dad joke: "NYC finally got Batman's accountant."
Comments scrolled:
• He's not human.
• He saved my cousin. I don't care if he eats batteries for breakfast.
• Saw them in the subway. The axe girl swore at me while she dragged my aunt out. I'd die for her.
• If the city is alive… maybe he's its teeth.
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Act II — First Responders' Table Talk
Firehouse 47 smelled of coffee, sweat, and smoke that wouldn't wash out. Real firefighters sat at the scarred wooden table, bandages on arms, exhaustion in faces.
One captain slammed her mug down. "I don't care if the kid's a vampire, a robot, or Batman's nephew—he kept my crew alive."
Another shook his head. "You don't get it. I saw the way people moved around him. Like the crowd wanted to obey. That's not training. That's… something else."
A younger firefighter, barely shaving, leaned forward. "Maybe it's the city. You know how we say New York breathes? Maybe it finally grew lungs."
They all went quiet for a beat. Coffee steamed.
"Doesn't matter," the captain said finally. "If he shows up on my scene, he's one of us. End of story."
They clinked mugs. Not cheers—solidarity.
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Act III — Streets & Shadows
In Queens, a bodega owner told customers about the boy who punched a monster through his lottery stand and left a wad of cash in the till as apology.
In Harlem, a graffiti mural bloomed overnight: Zack's steel grin and Luna's axe raised high. Beneath, sprayed in silver: PRESTIGE OR DIE.
In the Bronx, a group of kids played tag on rooftops. One wore a dollar-store mask with silver paint on the mouth. "I'm Steel Fang!" he shouted, leaping between buildings. His friends laughed, until one whispered, "Don't say it too loud. What if he hears?"
In the shadows under a viaduct, two Shades watched the mural. Their voices rasped like gravel being chewed.
"He's growing too fast."
"He won't live long enough to matter."
"Unless he does."
They melted into the wall.
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Act IV — Marrow's Broadcast
Every screen in Times Square blinked at once. Adverts dissolved into static, then into Marrow's face. Bone-white suit, calm smile.
"Good evening, city. You've met my apprentice, haven't you? Bright boy. Steel in his skin, oath in his chest. Very telegenic." He leaned closer. "But let's remember: heroes are myths we eat when we're hungry. And I'm very hungry."
The screens went black. The square buzzed like a kicked hornet's nest. Some cursed him. Some prayed. Some filmed. Everyone remembered.
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Act V — Apartment Roof
Zack sat on the tenement roof, hoodie up, steel veins dimmed. Luna sharpened her axe against the ledge like it was therapy. Silas flicked his coin and caught the city's reflection.
"You're trending," Luna said. "How's it feel?"
"Like a target," Zack muttered.
"Good," she said. "Means they see you."
Silas exhaled smoke. "The Tribunal is already recalculating. Marrow's broadcasting. The Leviathan is restless. The city loves you now, Zack. Tomorrow, it will demand you. And the vow doesn't let you refuse."
Zack stared across rooftops, down to streets humming with rumors and murals and hashtags. His HUD whispered a new line he hadn't seen before:
CITY STATUS: Awakening.
Crowd Flow → Strong resonance.
Public perception now influences Oath trajectory.
He clenched his fists. "Prestige or die."
The city answered in car horns, shouts, subway rumble, and a mural sprayed fresh three blocks over.
Luna smirked. "Guess we're celebrities. You think they'll ask for autographs?"
"I'll give them scars," Zack said, standing.
Silas smiled faint, cruel. "Same thing."
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Stinger — The Broker
In a skyscraper office smelling of wet stone, a man in a black suit with gills on his neck poured wine that wasn't wine. He took a call on a rotary phone that rang underwater.
"Yes," he said, voice bubbling. "The Leviathan is ready to surface. The boy has teeth. We'll see if he can bite a river."
Outside, through the window, the Hudson rippled. Something vast rolled just under the skin.