[center][img]http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D2lHz46fBCc/VoRECqoROEI/AAAAAAAABrA/aS4tseDuy18/s1600/Netlix%2BMarvels%2BMoon%2BKnight.jpg[/img] [hr][b]The Bronx, New York City[/b] | [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2sb5TszDqYE]Mood Music[/url] [hr][/center] [indent][i][color=gray]The decaying, mutilated body of the teenaged girl in front of me is a reminder of why I continue to push myself; why I need to live up to my promise. It’s never easy looking through the eyes of the dead, especially when the dead is a fourteen year old girl two days from her quinceañera.[/color] [/i] Even for someone like Marc Spector who had tasted death’s embrace once before, it was a feeling that was unnerving. Marc’s brows narrowed as he crouched down in the alleyway, his hands touching the eyelids of the corpse in front of him. A remorseful sigh left his breath. [i][color=gray]A young life taken before it could really experience the world. A unfair reality, but one that was sadly all very much a commonality.[/color][/i] [b]“Don’t worry, Alanna. It won’t be all for nothing.” [/b] [i][color=gray]I whisper, as if I am assuring her that her death has some meaning. I know she’s already dead. I know there is no “purpose” to her death and that it is meaningless to whisper to a corpse. But I do it. Every single time. And I’ll continue to do so until darkness takes me for the final time. I suppose it is proof positive that I am genuinely insane. Captain America doesn’t have conversations with the dead. [/color][/i] Marc turned around, his white cape fluttering behind him as he looked for the streets. He could feel it. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had unearthed the largest unspoken domino and dropped it – and because of that domino every single criminal was like a rapid dog that had finally broken free of their leash, gnawing at whatever they could find until it was picked bone clean. But what was the alternative? Let Fisk do as he wanted because he had a monopoly on New York City? Let good people suffer under the hands of the fat man? [i][color=gray]I cannot forgive carelessness, but I understand it.[/color][/i] The best thing for any vigilante to do was to give New York all of themselves; and ensure that the new regime couldn’t take a foothold and protect everyone they could, no matter the toll it cost. And that was [i]exactly[/i] why Marc was in The Bronx on this night. He was going hunting.[/indent]