Port of New York, Pier 23.
The sea breeze carried a strange mixture of salt, rust, and cheap diesel.
This was no longer an orderly cargo transshipment station.
It had become a fortress.
An ugly fortress built from anger, despair, and uncontrollable power.
Dozens of dockworkers had occupied the place.
They used cranes and shipping containers to construct crude fortifications.
The man leading them was named Frank.
A team leader who had worked here for twenty years, his hands covered in thick calluses.
Until last week, he was just an ordinary man who complained about his boss in bars and bragged about his strength in his youth.
Now, he could lift a forklift with his anger.
"We just want justice!"
Standing on a shipping container hovering in mid-air, Frank roared at the Police who had set up a cordon in the distance.
His voice, amplified by a battered megaphone, echoed across the empty dock, sounding hoarse and distorted.
"We gave our lives to this company, yet they won't even pay for our children's medical bills!"
"Now that we have power, they call us thugs?!"
A blue shipping container rose slowly behind him, casting a massive shadow.
That steel giant, weighing over twenty tons, was as light as a child's toy under the control of his will.
This was the stage Dr. Hannibal Lecter had chosen for them.
It was also the first "sponsorship" he had given to these radicals from the Awakened Mutual Aid Society.
Catalysts that could amplify their power, but were extremely unstable.
Vought Tower, Public Relations and Brand Management Department.
Motoko Kusanagi was presiding over the meeting temporarily.
On the screen, the standoff at the dock was being broadcast in real-time.
"The Police's negotiations have failed three times already."
An analyst reported.
"Frank's emotional state is extremely unstable. His abilities are directly linked to his anger; any provocation could lead to catastrophic consequences."
"The media has already defined them as'Super-powered Thugs'. Our stock price has risen slightly because of this, and public support for the 'Act' has increased by two points. This counts as good news."
Motoko Kusanagi pulled up several hero profiles.
"Soldier Boy's image is too official; it will exacerbate class conflict."
"Starlight is too saintly; she cannot empathize with these workers rolling in the mud."
Her finger finally stopped on an avatar with short pink hair.
Vi.
"But Officer, Vi's psychological evaluation report shows she has a strong anti-authoritarian tendency. Sending her to handle this kind of grassroots protest incident is risky..."
"Her backstory is 'from the bottom, using her fists to break injustice'."
Motoko Kusanagi interrupted him.
"Send her. This is the perfect application scenario for her persona."
She looked at everyone in the conference room.
"Someone who was once one of their own, now standing on the side of order, personally ending another riot that belongs to their former self. This story is very persuasive. It will tell everyone that it is not your background that determines your value, but your choices."
"Choosing Vought is choosing the light."
...
Vi descended from the sky.
The roar emitted by the Hextech Gauntlets upon landing made the nerves of both sides in the standoff tense up.
She stood up and looked around at the familiar scene before her.
Rusted sheet metal.
Filthy ground.
The smell of sweat in the air that never seemed to dissipate.
And the faces of those workers.
Dark, rough, and filled with exhaustion and the madness of being pushed to the edge.
The trademark arrogant smile on Vi's face faded a little without her realizing it.
She remembered her own days in the past.
In that sunless Underground City, fighting until she was bruised and bloody for half a piece of moldy bread.
Looking at those people who were so similar to her past self, somewhere deep in her heart was gently touched.
"Hey!"
She shouted at Frank on the shipping container, her voice less provocative and more complex than usual.
"The company has heard your demands. There's no need to make things so ugly."
"Heard them?"
Frank let out a sorrowful and angry sneer.
"They heard them, and then sent you? Vought's lackey!"
"You are just like us, crawled out from the mud! But now you stand on their side, ready to raise your fists against us! Have you forgotten who you are?! Have you forgotten what it tastes like to starve?!"
Vi's fists clenched subconsciously. The Hextech Gauntlets emitted a faint hum, their blue energy cores flickering.
Just then, a gunshot rang out.
It was some over-nervous PoliceOfficer, an accidental discharge.
The bullet hit the shipping container at Frank's feet, sending sparks flying.
This gunshot became the straw that broke the camel's back.
"They want to kill us!"
Frank's eyes were bloodshot, and he fell into a complete rage.
He manipulated the blue shipping container behind him, aiming it at the outside of the cordon where reporters and civilians had gathered, and smashed it over fiercely!
Screams erupted everywhere.
Vi's pupils contracted sharply.
She sprinted towards the shipping container, smashing her fist with all her might into the out-of-control steel giant.
"Boom—!"
Vi's fist collided with the shipping container, producing a deafening sound.
With that punch, she forcibly pushed the steel mountain over a dozen meters to the side.
The shipping container finally smashed into the sea, kicking up a monstrous wave.
Vi shook her arms and turned around, her eyes gradually becoming somewhat sorrowful.
"Frank! I gave you a chance!"
The battle erupted.
Frank manipulated all the movable metal on the dock—abandoned cars, crane booms, reinforced concrete blocks—and smashed them at Vi like a violent storm.
"Traitor! You damn traitor!"
Vi did not hold back anymore.
Her figure shuttled through the steel at high speed, and every punch shattered an incoming "weapon".
This was a battle broadcast live from start to finish.
The audience in front of their televisions could not see Vi's inner struggle.
They only saw a wild girl with pink hair struggling against a monster that could stir up a steel tsunami.
Vi smashed a flying forklift with one punch, the shattered parts grazing her cheek and leaving a bloody scratch.
She just silently charged and punched.
Finally, Vi seized an opening and broke through the impenetrable metal barrage.
She leaped high, the energy cores of the Hextech Gauntlets shining to their limit.
One punch, hitting Frank squarely in the chest.
Frank fell from the shipping container, landing heavily on the ground, and passed out.
With his fall, all the hovering metal lost its power and crashed to the ground.
Vi stood in the center of the chaotic ruins.
She looked at her own invincible iron fists, then looked at the man on the ground who, just like her in the past, just wanted to seek justice.
In her eyes, there was no joy of victory.
Only a sense of bewilderment.
On the giant screen in Times Square.
The news anchor's voice was calm and authoritative.
"We have seen it; this is uncontrollable power. Even if its original intention is worthy of sympathy, it will only lead to an irredeemable disaster in the end."
The image froze on Vi's dust-covered face, and the anchor concluded in an admiring tone.
"And Vought is that very leash that can restrain the Beast, the last line of defense protecting our fragile civilization."
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