[center][sub][h1][img]https://i.ibb.co/3mBGLY7B/moon-knight-header.png[/img]
[b][color=black] I S S U E  # 1[/color]
[color=lightcyan]I S S U E  # 1[/color][/b][/h1][/sub]
[sub][h2][b][color=black] E Y E S  W I T H O U T  A  F A C E[/color]
[color=lightcyan]E Y E S  W I T H O U T  A  F A C E[/color][/b][/h2][/sub]
[sup][h3][b][color=black] P A R T  O N E[/color]
[color=lightcyan]P A R T  O N E[/color][/b][/h3][/sup][/center]
I'm falling into an endless ocean of stars. I try to scream, but no sound comes. Lights sear my eyes as I fall further into the abyss. I don't know how long I've been falling, but eventually I come to a stop, my body landing on the ground with a dull [b][i]THUD[/i][/b].

[b]Aʜ. Tʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ, Mᴀʀᴄ.[/b]

I pull myself to my feet, dusting myself off and looking at my surroundings. Ancient Egyptian architecture, hieroglyphs carved into the walls. I look ahead and see Khonshu before me. The sight of him with his bird skull head and tattered white robes would be intimidating if he wasn't currently lounging in a throne, looking almost bored. [color=lightcyan][b]"Khonshu? Where am I?"[/b][/color]

[b]Wᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅꜱ. Tʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ I ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇ.[/b]

[color=lightcyan][b]"Why am I here?"[/b][/color]

[b]Sᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴍᴀʏ ᴡᴀʀɴ ʏᴏᴜ. Tʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴏʀᴍ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ Hᴜʙ Cɪᴛʏ, Mᴀʀᴄ. Oɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ.[/b]

There was always a storm coming to Hub City. It had been through hell in the last few years. I had looked into it, heard about the mayor's manor burning down, then the at the time newly elected mayor getting shot and put into a coma, and the societal collapse last year that brought the city to its knees. There had been a vigilante in the city, one who tried to fix it, but even he seemed to have given up. No sightings of him at all in the past year. I'm not sure if I could do any better.

But dammit, I have to [i]try[/i].

[color=lightcyan][b]"What can you tell me about it?"[/b][/color]

[b]Yᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴀɢᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ. Aᴍᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏʟᴅ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, Bᴜꜱʜᴍᴀɴ.[/b]

Just hearing his name sends a spike of rage through me, my pulse quickening. [color=lightcyan][b]"Bushman's coming? When?"[/b][/color]

[b]Iɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴍʏ ꜱᴏɴ.[/b]

Shit.

[color=lightcyan][b]"... Thanks for the warning. Not a whole lot of good if you can't tell me when it's coming, but... I appreciate it nonetheless."[/b][/color]

[b]Yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ.[/b]

[color=lightcyan][b]"So, how do I get out of here?"[/b][/color] I ask.

[b]Sɪᴍᴘʟᴇ. Wᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ.[/b]

He reaches a hand out to me, touching my forehead.

I jolt awake in my bed covered in a cold sweat. I look to the alarm clock on my nightstand. 9:14 PM. Shit. I slept for twelve hours. Patrolling all night and getting into fist fights was pretty damn tiring, all things considered. Still, I needed to be better about it. No excuses.

I grab the earpiece off of my nightstand and stick it in my ear. [color=lightcyan][b]"Jean-Paul, you there?"[/b][/color]

[color=olive][b]"[i]Oui[/i], Marc. We've got something,"[/b][/color] Frenchie's voice comes through loud and clear.

[color=lightcyan][b]"What's that?"[/b][/color]

[color=olive][b]"Police have found a body that surfaced in zee Hupert River down in the Wedge. Nearest address is 4510 Ditko Street. Detective O'Toole is on zee scene."[/b][/color]

O'Toole. One of the few friends I had on the force so far. Asked him why he was willing to work with a vigilante and he said that he was used to it already. Plus, I didn't need to go there as Moon Knight. I had a persona already crafted that would allow me to step in as a... [i]Concerned citizen.[/i]

[color=lightcyan][b]"Get the chopper ready. I'll be there in five."[/b][/color] I get out of bed and walk over to my closet, opening the door and grabbing the white suit hanging on the rack.

Ten minutes later and Frenchie is landing the chopper on a roof a few blocks from the site of the murder. I step out of the helicopter and look back at Frenchie, waving him off. He takes flight again and heads out, waiting for the next time he's needed. Making my way down to the street via a fire escape, I stride through back alleys and side streets to the scene of the crime.

[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/vC1YfjtS/mr-knight.png[/img][/center]

Before long I've reached the cops, ducking under yellow police tape despite the protests of the officer watching the perimeter. O'Toole is standing there over a stretcher, his bulldog face twisted into a grimace. The cop standing guard reaches me and places a hand on my shoulder. [b]"Sir, you can't be here. This is a crime scene,"[/b] he says. At his voice, O'Toole looks over in our direction.

[color=orange][b]"Cool it, officer Ryder. He's a consultant,"[/b][/color] O'Toole says.

The officer drops his hand and looks stunned. [b]"Are you kidding me, detective? He's a vigilante!"[/b]

[color=orange][b]"Mister Knight here is a [i]concerned citizen[/i], is what he is. One whose input will be invaluable."[/b][/color] O'Toole steps up to me and shakes my hand. [color=orange][b]"Good to see you, Mister Knight."[/b][/color]

[color=lightcyan][b]"Good to be here, O'Toole. Tell me what we know."[/b][/color]

[color=orange][b]"Got reports of a dead body floatin' in the water. We fished her out of the river half an hour ago."[/b][/color] He steps back over to the stretcher. [color=orange][b]"Cause of death was a slit throat. But there's something else... Take a look at her face."[/b][/color]

I step over to the stretcher and pull back the cover hiding her face. I almost reel from the sight. The skin on her face has been removed, just raw meat with dead eyes bulging out. O'Toole shudders a bit as he looks at her from over my shoulder. I pull the cloth back over the corpse for both our sake.

[color=lightcyan][b]"We got an ID on her?"[/b][/color]

[color=orange][b]"Had one on her. Name's Rachel Blake. Twenty-four years old. ID's from Indiana, so she's not a native. Nothin' more than that yet, have some guys workin' on gettin' her background and contacting next of kin."[/b][/color]

[color=lightcyan][b]"Let me know when you have something on her,"[/b][/color] I say. I look over the rest of the scene, not really seeing anything of note. Likely the woman wasn't killed here, and this probably isn't even where the body was dumped anyhow. The River flows quickly this time of year. I won't be able to find anything substantial here. [color=lightcyan][b]"You still have that radio I gave you?"[/b][/color]

O'Toole nods. [color=orange][b]"I'll reach you as soon as we get somethin'."[/b][/color]

[color=lightcyan][b]"Good. Take care, detective."[/b][/color] With those words, I leave the crime scene, ducking under the police tape and making my way back to the alleys. Using my truncheon's grappling hook, I zip up to the rooftops and make my way back to where Frenchie dropped me off. [color=lightcyan][b]"I'm done here, Frenchie. Come pick me up."[/b][/color]

[color=olive][b]"[i]Oui, mon ami.[/i]"[/b][/color]

As I wait on the roof, I rack my mind for any possible motive the killer could have had. Was it some kind of twisted sadism? Someone who watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre too many times? Maybe the killer wanted to... Steal the woman's beauty? I don't know anything for sure yet, but I can't nix any theory yet.

The helicopter touches down in front of me and I climb into the co-pilot's seat. [color=olive][b]"What do we know, Marc?"[/b][/color] Frenchie asks.

[color=lightcyan][b]"Dead girl, missing a face. We got an ID on her but no idea what she was doing before her death. All we know is she's not from the Hub."[/b][/color]

[color=olive][b]"[i]Les yeux sans visage[/i]."[/b][/color]

[color=lightcyan][b]"Huh?"[/b][/color]

[color=olive][b]"Eyes without a face. Describes the dead girl well, no?"[/b][/color]

I shift uncomfortably at that, recalling the sight of her face. [color=lightcyan][b]"Yeah, I suppose so. Where'd you get that?"[/b][/color]

[color=olive][b]"An old movie from my home country. Eerie similarities between the plot and our case, at least so far."[/b][/color]

Maybe that's the movie the killer watched too many times. Guess I'll find out.