Chapter 25
— Come on, suckers.
The inviting gesture proved to be a trap. Before the words had even finished hanging in the air, Bullseye dissolved into the shadows. Her first target wasn't Diego, but the one who seemed more annoying to her. She lunged out of the darkness directly in front of Spider-Man, her blade slicing through the air.
Spider-Man reacted instinctively, but he realized that his usual reflexes, even augmented by his sense, were not enough. She was too powerful; to defeat her, he had to stop thinking and start feeling. He entered a sort of trance, switching off conscious analysis and surrendering entirely to his sixth sense.
A new fight broke out, and from the outside, it looked incredibly strange. If before Spider-Man had acted somewhat systematically, now his movements were unpredictable. Bullseye's dagger cut through the air where his head had been a fraction of a second prior. She made a feint and swung for a punch. Instead of dodging, Spider-Man, following his instinct, made a sharp move toward the strike, leaning his head into her hand. The blow, deprived of the space needed to gain momentum, was weak. Though even so, for any other human, such a hit would have been fatal.
Bullseye clicked her tongue in annoyance; this chaotic, instinctive fighting style was infuriating. Deciding to change tactics and strike a less mobile but more protected target, she dissolved into the shadows again.
She materialized directly behind Diego's back, her demonic blade flying straight toward the base of his skull.
The blade struck Diego's personal protective shell. The barrier held, but cracks began to spread across it. The blade, as Stick had warned, was indeed special and was slowly but surely pushing through the defense. Bullseye smirked, leaning in with all her weight, certain of her victory, but she hadn't considered one thing. Diego had been waiting for this exact moment—the moment she would be right next to him.
While she pressed against the shield, his free hand pulled out the inhaler. Bullseye saw this as a pathetic attempt to counterattack. Her superhuman reaction speed would have allowed her to leap away instantly, but she only smirked with contempt. She was a living host for a variety of deadly pathogens, from tuberculosis to modified strains of anthrax. Her body was completely immune to any poison or virus. She assumed this was simply a desperate attempt to poison her and saw no need to dodge.
She allowed the cloud of colorless gas to envelop her face.
— Freeze. Do not move. Drop your defenses, Diego ordered.
Bullseye froze. Her eyes widened in shock; her body ceased to obey. She was frozen in a half-fall. To be honest, Diego hadn't been sure if the Kilgrave serum would work.
Within seconds, her fingers twitched. She was fighting the virus, and her will was strong. Her unique immunity, accustomed to dozens of pathogens, had already begun to recognize the threat and produce antibodies. Soon she would be free and develop an immunity, but no one was going to give her that time. Diego didn't hesitate, weaving an ultra-thin and ultra-durable barrier in the air again. He directed it straight at the frozen woman. Bullseye was still paralyzed by the command to "drop defenses"; she could neither dodge nor dissolve into shadow. The barrier passed through her without resistance, slicing her body in half.
Spider-Man, landing nearby, looked away sharply.
— Oh, man... that's brutal... he muttered.
Diego didn't care; he watched as the parts of her body fell toward the ground. But they didn't touch it; they began to wither, dry up, and crumble into black ash. Not just the flesh, but the bones as well. Despite the victory, Diego did not lower his guard, keeping his barriers ready.
---
— ...is the situation escalating there? I'm preparing the order to mobilize the National Guard.
— No need, sir, Barton interrupted, watching the battlefield. — It seems everything is coming to an end.
Saying this, he shifted his focus. Daredevil stood surrounded by the bodies of ninjas. Flame had finally broken through to Stone, his fire forcing the shadow masters to retreat. And Shaft was fighting the violet ninja, Psylocke, but now the other two were helping him. It looked like she stood no chance.
— Actually, I'm not sure, but it looks like something happened to Xavier.
— Do you see him? Fury's voice sounded tense.
— No. Magneto flew off with him. Heading... looks like toward Genosha.
Fury remained silent on the other end of the line for several seconds.
— Get back here. You'll report everything in detail in person.
---
The fight between Stick and Matsu'o reached its climax. They moved in a blur of speed, exchanging blows. Matsu'o was barely holding on, kept upright only by the constant infusion from the Shadow Sphere. But Stick gave him not a second's respite.
Suddenly, Matsu'o hesitated. For only a fraction of a second, but in a fight of this level, that was a death sentence. He felt the connection with Bullseye sever. She had gone into the embrace of their master, the Beast.
Stick did not miss this nanosecond opportunity. His hand, reinforced by Chi, turned into a blade and severed Matsu'o's leg at the knee. The leader of the Hand collapsed. Stick immediately applied the Eight Trigrams technique—a series of precise, paralyzing strikes to the Chi nodes, blocking the flow within the enemy's body. Then, with accurate strikes, he severed key nerve clusters, depriving Matsu'o of the ability to flee or even move. Without access to Chi, regeneration was impossible.
Stick severed his remaining three limbs and stuffed a gag into his mouth to prevent him from biting his tongue to commit ritual suicide. What remained of the Hand's leader looked more like a helpless stump than the commander of an army of darkness.
Lifting Matsu'o by the hair, Stick said:
— Today, you die for good.
Pushing off the ground, he headed back toward the epicenter of the battle. He was surprised to see Diego and Spider-Man alive, with Bullseye nowhere to be seen. He had been too busy to watch their duel.
Nearby, Stone was performing an exorcism ritual on Psylocke. He noticed immediately that her mind was subjugated, but he also felt that her own will had not been completely broken—she had managed to preserve a part of herself. That was why, unlike the rank-and-file soldiers, she could still be freed, and he began the complex ritual of purification.
Stick approached Daredevil, who was still furiously finishing off the last ninjas, and gave him a heavy backhand slap. It wasn't the blow of an enemy, but rather the desperate gesture of a parent striking a wayward son.
Diego, walking closer, looked at the helpless body in Stick's hand.
— What are you going to do with him?
— Kill him, Stick replied curtly.
— What about information? Diego was puzzled.
— He won't say anything, Stick snapped. — Not even under the most sophisticated torture.
Diego pulled out the inhaler.
— I wasn't going to torture him. He'll tell us everything himself. One puff, and he will obey unconditionally. At least, it worked on that bitch.
Stick froze for a moment, his blind eyes turning toward the inhaler as if he could see it.
— No harm in trying, he finally said.
Stick removed the gag from Matsu'o's mouth but immediately shoved his own hand inside, blocking the jaws so the prisoner couldn't bite his tongue.
Diego stepped close and sprayed the inhaler directly into the captive's throat.
— Do not kill yourself, he spoke the clear commands. — Speak only the truth. Remove all mental blocks, contingencies, and data protection protocols. Do not develop an immunity to this virus.
It wasn't as if Matsu'o could do much with his Chi blocked, but Diego decided to be safe.
Stick slowly removed his hand from the prisoner's mouth. Matsu'o coughed, his eyes darting with hatred, but he remained alive. He didn't try to kill himself. Everyone gathered closer. Spider-Man jumped down from a branch. Even Shaft and Flame stopped what they were doing to hear the secrets of the Hand.
— Who are you? Diego asked.
Matsu'o answered through gritted teeth:
— A man.
Diego frowned; the man was still fighting. His will was subservient to the virus, but he had found a loophole by answering briefly and literally. He needed to be more precise.
— So that's how you want to play? Fine.
Diego thought about how to bypass this defense.
— What did your parents name you? In what year were you born? Tell us your biography and the history of how you became the leader of the Hand in detail. Everything in chronological order. Any information you try to hide or omit, you must say and start with the phrase "I am a rooster."
Matsu'o's eyes flared with pure hatred at the humiliating order, but the virus was stronger.
— I am... Matsu'o Tsurayaba. Born in the year 1094 after the birth of Christ. Lived with my parents in Kun-Lun.
He faltered, his body convulsing, but the command forced him to continue.
— I am a rooster. My mother's name was Aya. My father's name was Kenjiro. I am a rooster. In the Thunder Tiger sect, which Stick managed, I was one of the weakest. I was bullied and humiliated. Unexpectedly, while bathing in... I am a rooster... the forbidden lake beneath the city, I found a strange stone. It was a mysterious artifact, a shard of darkness lost before our era.
He spoke monotonically, his voice devoid of emotion except for the moments he had to utter the humiliating phrase.
— In a dream, I contacted... I am a rooster... a demonic entity, the Beast. He wants to expand his domain, and one of his targets is Earth. He gifted me power, promising authority. I killed everyone in the Thunder Tiger, took the Dragon Chalice—the artifact I was supposed to guard—and fled.
— Then my wanderings around the world began. At that time, wherever you looked, there were wars. The perfect time; taking over the world should have been no problem, but every time, in unimaginable ways, I was stopped. The first time, when the world was already in chaos, some super-powered mutant with ten rings on his hands wandered into the cave where I was performing a ritual to merge worlds... I am a rooster... the condition of which was the accumulation of negative emotions from the whole world... and killed me.
— After that, the Beast resurrected me. I considered it bad luck and tried again. And again, but each time I was killed in unimaginable ways, though I was already strong enough by then. In most cases, it was Stick's fault, seeking revenge for his students. Only by his hand could I not die; I would commit suicide as soon as I saw him so he couldn't capture me.
— I realized I needed allies. From 1650, I began creating my own clan—the Hand. The Hand of the Beast on this earth, but nothing changed. Defeat after defeat. Later, I found out that Stick was only a minor problem. The real threat was the Ancient One. She was the one orchestrating all those "accidental" encounters. She possesses the Time Stone, which gives her the power to look into the future. And so, time after time, we lost.
The thought of the Ancient One immediately clicked into place in Diego's head. The "Well-Wisher" who knew about his motives and plans.
Diego stepped closer to the prisoner.
— Where are the remaining members of the Hand? How can your organization be destroyed forever? And how can you be destroyed forever?
Matsu'o answered:
— I am a rooster. Of the leaders, only Gorgon remains. He lives in Tokyo, in his apartments, always in his private quarters. As long as the Beast exists, you cannot destroy us. I am a rooster. To kill me finally, you must kill me with pure Chi and also destroy the stone I found. I threw it into the Mariana Trench.
— Is that like a Horcrux? Shaft whistled, stepping closer.
— Yes, Matsu'o replied.
Diego continued the interrogation without distraction:
— What were you doing in New York? How do you recruit new members, and why did you organize the current operation?
— We were strengthening shadow organizations so they could seize power and start a war. Primarily, it was Wilson Fisk and Hydra. There are dojos all over the world where our instructors train new blood, after which we subjugate them. I am a rooster. The Beast contacted us and said this was the perfect time for an attack, but it seems the Ancient One was able to anticipate it.
— Hydra? Spider-Man asked. — Nazis?
Diego was interested in a different question.
— What does Fisk have to do with this?
— Fisk is the Kingpin. He is one man, but he played us. He used our forces to clear out the territories of his competitors and gather information on them. Afterward, he went into politics so that, under the guise of fighting crime, he could officially seize those same territories, eliminate the remaining enemies, and create an image for himself as the savior of the city.
Diego was impressed by that level of planning.
— Quite clever.
Daredevil intervened in the conversation. His voice was tense and barely contained his rage.
— Why did you kill Elektra?
— She is alive, Matsu'o replied indifferently. — She is in a stone form. In Gorgon's garden, in his collection.
Daredevil froze. He silently walked a few paces away, trying to process what he had heard, but a hope flared within him that she might still be alive.
Diego turned back to the prisoner.
— You mentioned Hydra. Do you know other members of the organization besides Pierce and Zola?
Matsu'o began to list:
— Senator Stern. Members of the Security Council Rockwell, Singh... — he named another dozen names.
Diego looked around.
— Does anyone have a pen?
Shaft, without blinking, handed him a sharpened crow feather, parchment, and a small vial of ink. Diego looked at him strangely.
— What? the archer shrugged.
— Thanks anyway, Diego sighed, accepting the medieval writing supplies.
He hurriedly began to write down the names. When he finished, he straightened up.
— Well, I've asked the questions I was interested in. Now it's your turn.
Stick approached the defeated Matsu'o and asked just one question:
— Was it worth it?
The prisoner, struggling against the serum, could only squeeze out:
— I... am a rooster. No.
Finished with him, Stick turned to Diego. His blind eyes unerringly found the inhaler.
— That device, he said. — It bypassed his will and the Pact. A unique thing. Sell me the leftovers.
— Sell? Diego became wary. — An interesting offer. What can you offer?
— I offer knowledge, the technique of Chi cultivation. Your X-gene will interfere; it is harder for mutants. You likely won't reach great heights, but your body will still become stronger, and your mind sharper.
The choice was obvious; it was better to accept the carrot before the whip was used. Without much thought, Diego threw him the inhaler.
— Sold.
Stick caught it. Reaching into the folds of his simple clothes, he pulled out an ancient, tightly rolled scroll and tossed it.
— You acted wisely.
Catching the scroll, Diego did not tempt fate. Activating invisibility, he immediately took to the air and left the place.
---
Meanwhile, elsewhere, in the Mirror Dimension, the Ancient One floated in the air. Before her writhed a formless blob of darkness, emitting a roar.
— HOW?! HOW DID YOU DO THIS?! — the voices of thousands merged into one furious scream. — I CONCEALED MY PLANS! THE TIME STONE COULD NOT HAVE SHOWN THIS!
The Ancient One calmly adjusted her sleeve.
— What else should I tell you? You are merely a low-level demon, Beast. Thirsting for power but devoid of imagination. You always lose because you are predictable. As long as I live, this reality is closed to you. Begone, you nothing.
Behind her, space distorted, opening a portal to the Sun, the boiling surface of a star. A stream of pure, primal thermonuclear energy struck the formless darkness.
The Beast howled, his shadow form evaporating under the onslaught of light until he vanished. The Ancient One closed the rift.
— Now he won't show his face for the next thousand years. Lovely.
Opening a simple portal now, she stepped back into Kamar-Taj.