That night, Bella returned to her rented apartment.
Since her sophomore year, the university no longer required students to live in dormitories. Bella had already discussed it with Angie and agreed they would rent a place off-campus together. Bella preferred it this way—her freshman dorm experience had been... exhausting. Too many hormone-driven boys, too many love confessions straight out of rom-coms, and a constant stream of awkward situations. Some of those boys even came from wealthy families and believed money could buy anything—including her affection.
Even if her roommates hadn't directly encouraged them, they certainly didn't discourage the drama. Some even accepted small gifts or favors, enjoying the attention and chaos. Bella had grown tired of the spectacle.
Their new apartment, located on 116th Street in Manhattan, was situated in a quiet and upscale neighborhood. The price was a little high, but neither Bella nor Angie was concerned. Bella could afford it easily, and Angie came from a stable middle-class family—her father was a dentist, well-off enough to give his daughter a comfortable college life.
When Bella stepped into the living room, she immediately noticed the peace. Angie was probably at school studying—she had an upcoming exam and had been cramming hard all week. The living room was silent except for the soft humming of the refrigerator and the occasional clack of Bella's laptop keys.
Dressed casually in shorts and a loose tee, Bella sat cross-legged on the sofa. Her long, fair legs were stretched out comfortably as she browsed various financial sites on her laptop, checking on the small investments she had made over the past two years.
Beside her, a large, chubby blue British Shorthair cat waddled up and rubbed its face against her knee, meowing sweetly for attention.
"Nina, if you keep getting fatter, you're gonna turn into a pig," Bella teased with a grin, scooping the cat into her lap. She gently grabbed the cat's stubby little legs and pretended to nibble on them in mock frustration. "Seriously, Angie's cat is getting chunkier by the day. At this rate, you'll crush your imaginary husband to death."
"Meow~" Nina responded with confidence, as if to say, I'm fat, fabulous, and proud.
Bella laughed softly and shook her head. She stood and made her way to the kitchen to pour some kibble into Nina's bowl. The satisfied sound of crunching followed her as she returned to her laptop, still checking her stock portfolio. She had been playing the market for some time, mostly for fun—but she was starting to get the hang of it.
Then something caught her eye.
A news notification.
Breaking: Tony Stark Returns
Bella's pupils sharpened. "Tony Stark is back?"
Her thoughts churned. Three months ago, she had read about the billionaire's mysterious disappearance in the Middle East. She hadn't paid it much attention then, but now that he had returned alive? That could only mean one thing—Iron Man was about to make his debut.
Bella sat back, eyes gleaming.
Everything was lining up with the timeline she remembered. The pieces of the Marvel universe were starting to fall into place.
She'd already considered her strategy. All she needed to do was buy up a modest amount of Stark Industries shares over the next few days. Nothing flashy—just enough to ride the upcoming wave. Her power was one thing, but she wanted to be financially secure too.
Bella closed her laptop and stretched. Watching Nina devour her meal made her stomach rumble, so she decided to fix herself something as well. She tied on an apron and entered the kitchen.
That's when it hit her.
Screams. Gunfire. Cries for help. Panic.
Bella's ears twitched, her senses picking up distant chaos. Her super hearing—though not as overwhelming as Superman's—could filter noise across vast distances. She couldn't hear the whole world, but she could pick up on anything significant happening within half of New York City.
And right now, something bad was happening.
"Wait… kids? No—!"
Her expression hardened. She vanished from the kitchen in the blink of an eye.
Manhattan Bridge
It was supposed to be a quiet night.
Instead, it had become a war zone.
Vehicles were jammed together in twisted heaps of metal, flames roaring as gasoline-fed explosions painted the night sky orange. A chorus of screams filled the air as people ran in every direction.
At the center of the destruction, a hulking creature—two meters tall and grotesque in every way—was rampaging across the bridge. Bone-like spurs jutted from its back, and its heavily muscled form looked as though it had been ripped straight out of a nightmare. With every step, the concrete cracked beneath its feet.
With one sweep of its powerful arm, it hurled a car across the bridge like a toy.
It stomped down again, and the bridge shuddered with the impact.
Terrified civilians who had been caught in the traffic jam pulled out whatever firearms they had—handguns, shotguns, even a few makeshift rifles. But their bullets sparked harmlessly against the creature's hide. Nothing worked. If anything, the attacks only enraged it further.
The monster let out a guttural roar and continued its advance, smashing through barriers and vehicles without pause. Its destination? The heart of New York City.
Media helicopters hovered overhead, broadcasting the entire event live.
"Oh my god! We're here live over the Manhattan Bridge where chaos has erupted!" the female reporter shouted over the rotor blades. Her voice was strained with panic. "An unknown creature has appeared on the bridge and is rampaging uncontrollably! Police forces are stuck outside and unable to enter the bridge!"
"We have confirmed hundreds of casualties and millions in damages. This thing came from the direction of Manhattan Island and bulldozed its way here!"
Her cameraman zoomed in, catching the creature as it slammed another car into the side rail. Flames erupted. Glass flew everywhere.
Then the camera panned—and the world held its breath.
Just fifty meters ahead of the creature was an orange school bus, stalled in traffic. Inside, children stared wide-eyed, their faces pale with fear.
Dozens of them.
The traffic in front of the bus made it impossible to escape. Some brave adults tried to pull open the doors and get the kids out, but there wasn't enough time. The monster was closing in fast.
"No! No, no, no—please, someone stop this!"
"Goddamn it, where are the superheroes when you need them?"
"Useless police! They're all standing there doing nothing! Those kids are going to die!"
Across New York, people watched in horror—at home, in bars, in restaurants. Women covered their mouths, tears running down their cheeks. Men cursed and shouted at their screens.
Everyone felt helpless.
And then, a flash.
A black blur streaked across the screen, crashing down between the monster and the bus.
Gasps erupted across the city.
Even the creature paused for a moment.
The dust cleared.
Standing tall, her arms outstretched to shield the children, was a young woman in a black suit and white gloves. Her V-shaped mask gleamed under the moonlight. Her Oxford shoes clicked as she stepped forward.
The Butcher of the Night. The Goddess of Judgment.
She had arrived.
And she was furious.
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