Gotham City – 6:48 p.m. – Wednesday
Frank Gallo just wanted dinner.
Not a conversation. Not a misunderstanding. Not police lights or neighborhood drama or someone mistaking him for a debt collector.
Just meat.
Specifically, the $5 meatball sub from Vinnie's Deli on 8th. No lettuce. No mustard. No eye contact. That was the dream.
He stepped through the door—hood up, shoulders hunched, tired from lifting Mrs. DiLorenzo's new washing machine up three flights of stairs—and immediately felt the shift.
The quiet.
The kind of silence that meant something was wrong.
Vinnie's was usually a madhouse. Greasy smells, yelling cousins, a broken radio coughing out Sinatra. Now?
Dead quiet.
Frank's boots hit the tile like gunshots.
He looked up. Froze.
A Robbery in Progress
Two guys in ski masks stood behind the counter. One had a pistol. The other had Vinnie—who was red-faced, furious, and mid-argument.
Vinnie: "I said that's the change from the register, not the safe, you pizza-faced—!"
Gunman #1: "Shut up or I'll—!"
That's when they noticed Frank.
Six foot two. Broad-shouldered. Brow like a stone slab. Hood shadowing his eyes. Silent as a ghost.
He looked like a man who'd snapped a dozen necks just to get warm in the morning.
Gunman #2 (panicking): "Oh shit! It's him!"
Gunman #1: "Is that—?! No way!"
Frank blinked. Pointed toward the sandwich station.
Frank: "…I just want a meatball sub."
Gunman #1 (to his partner): "He's not here for us. He's here for Vinnie! He's cleaning up!"
Gunman #2 (backing up): "We're dead, man!"
Frank: "No, really—just the sandwich—"
They bolted.
One leapt the counter. The other knocked over a display of breadsticks. The front door slammed behind them as they disappeared into the Gotham dusk like panicked pigeons.
Vinnie – Covered in Marinara and Confusion
Vinnie (panting): "What the hell just happened?"
Frank: "They thought I was gonna kill them."
Vinnie: "Were you?"
Frank: "No."
Vinnie: "That's why it's scary."
He tossed a paper-wrapped sub onto the counter, still shaking.
Vinnie: "On the house. You saved my ass."
Frank: "I just stood there."
Vinnie: "Exactly."
Two Hours Later – GCPD Precinct
Detective Renee Montoya reviewed the security footage, brow furrowed, coffee in hand.
Montoya: "So let me get this straight. Two armed men robbing a deli flee in terror when a regular guy walks in and does nothing?"
Officer Ramirez nodded.
Ramirez: "Witnesses say he just pointed at the meatball subs."
Montoya: "You're telling me a meatball stare-down ended a robbery."
Ramirez: "Technically, yes."
She paused the footage. Zoomed in on Frank's face.
Montoya (quietly): "Gallo."
Flashback – Montoya, Ten Years Ago
She remembered him.
Seventeen. Brought in for breaking a guy's arm. That same blank stare, like a storm cloud with a pulse. The guy he beat? Twice his size, holding a knife to a woman's throat. Frank didn't say a word then, either.
Montoya had vouched for him back then. Said he was just trying to help.
They didn't listen.
Now he was back on her radar.
Frank's Apartment – 11:37 p.m.
Home was quiet.
Dim lamp. Piles of books he hadn't read. Mr. Tibbles curled up in his sock drawer. Frank sat on the floor eating his sandwich, finally, in peace.
Until someone banged on his door.
He sighed.
Stood.
Opened it.
Neighbor (sobbing): "Frank! Help! I think my cousin's OD'ing!"
12:01 a.m. – Fire Escape, Covered in Blood and Tomato Sauce
Frank carried the man—half-conscious, barely breathing—out the window and down the fire escape when the hallway turned out to be blocked by a busted radiator flooding steam.
He used his jacket to keep pressure on the guy's arm. Called 911. Waited by the curb. Didn't say a word to the responders.
Two minutes later, his photo was on GothamCitizenAlert.com with the headline:
"Masked Vigilante Saves Addict With Brutal Efficiency"
He wasn't wearing a mask.
Or being brutal.
Or a vigilante.
Meanwhile – On the Other Side of Town
Black Mask got the report.
The name "Gallo" came up again.
Sionis (snarling): "Two stick-up kids run screaming from a deli because of this guy?"
Goon: "Word is, he's the Icebox Ghost. Doesn't say much. Doesn't have to."
Sionis: "He working for Dent? Penguin? That clown?"
Goon: "We don't know."
Sionis: "Figure it out. If he's a freelancer, maybe he can be bought."
Goon: "And if he can't?"
Sionis (smiling): "Then let's find out what breaks first—his fingers, or that face."
The Next Day – Coffee Shop Incident
Frank just wanted coffee.
That was it.
No sugar. No milk. Just caffeine.
But the guy ahead of him in line started yelling at the barista. Screaming about almond milk. Throwing his cup. Spit flying.
Frank gently put a hand on the guy's shoulder and said:
Frank (calmly): "Apologize. She's just doing her job."
The guy turned, saw Frank's face, and fainted.
Right there. On the floor.
Karen – Watching from the Corner Booth
Karen, from 3C, had just wanted a scone.
She saw the whole thing.
She also saw the two people whispering about Frank in the corner—one recording, the other Googling "intimidating Gotham man meatball robbery vigilante."
She slid into the seat across from him.
Karen: "Frank. You're going viral."
Frank: "I'm not sick."
Karen: "No. Online viral. Like… people think you're some kind of Batman-lite."
Frank: "I'm just trying to eat."
Karen: "That's exactly what makes it worse. You never deny it."
Frank: "Because there's nothing to deny."
Karen: "Frank. Buddy. You look like you'd win a staring contest with death."
Montoya – Watching from the Shadows
She tailed him for the next two days.
He:
Helped carry a couch up six flights for a grandma.
Broke up a fight outside a nightclub by saying "stop."
Rescued a kitten from a drainpipe.
Got accused of stealing the kitten.
Everywhere he went, things got better—and he got blamed for them.
Back at Frank's Apartment – 9:00 p.m.
Frank fed Mr. Tibbles and turned off the lamp. The city buzzed outside his window like a swarm of bees drunk on neon.
He didn't ask to be this person.
Didn't want people whispering when he walked by.
Didn't want criminals thinking he was a rival.
He just wanted quiet.
But Gotham had decided.
Frank Gallo wasn't just a man anymore.
He was a myth.
Whether he liked it or not.