The next day.
Hawk was up early. Dressed and with his backpack slung over one shoulder, he took the folder Mrs. Snow had given him and headed for the subway.
His original plan had been to take the bus.
Everyone knows the New York City subway is an experience you don't forget.
But Hawk discovered there was no direct bus route from his new apartment to the Oscorp building. He'd have to make three transfers.
At that point, he might as well just take the subway.
At least with the subway, if you had no shame, you could ride for free.
In a word:
You could hop the turnstile. And even if you paid, the fare was still cheaper than the bus.
So, the subway it was.
Except—
The moment he stepped onto the train, he regretted it.
The smell.
God, the smell.
A sensory assault of indescribable odors washed over him from all directions. He shut down his sense of smell so fast it was practically a reflex.
But the smell was only part of the problem.
The car was a rolling circus.
There was a wannabe rockstar with a guitar, howling like a wounded animal, lost in a delusion of future stardom.
Not far from him, a woman built like a Sherman tank had a massive python draped around her neck.
God only knew how she got that thing on the train.
But that wasn't even the main event.
It's a well-known fact that if you were to list the most common places to get pickpocketed in New York City, the subway would be at the top.
And right on cue, a young tough in a hoodie, his face shadowed, locked onto Hawk.
His instincts screamed subway rookie.
A "subway rookie" was someone who didn't ride the trains often, who didn't understand the unspoken dangers of the cars or the darkness in people's hearts.
They weren't always rich, but they were always the easiest prey.
Soon.
The kid in the hoodie, pretending to adjust his headphones, bobbed his head to a silent beat and sidled up behind Hawk.
The next second.
As his hand came down from his ear, a small folding knife appeared in it. He was about to slice open the backpack on Hawk's back.
Just then.
Hawk, his back still to the kid, suddenly lurched backward as if he'd lost his balance.
The kid, caught completely by surprise, was still fumbling with the knife. Hawk's sudden movement slammed the handle of the blade, flipping the point around. With a sickening squelch, the knife plunged deep into the kid's own wrist.
"Aaargh!"
The kid let out a strangled cry, his eyes wide with shock and pain as he stared at the knife buried in his arm.
Blood began to drip, pattering onto the grimy floor of the car.
The train pulled into the next station.
The surrounding passengers stood up and filed off the car.
No one gasped.
No one cared. And certainly, no one asked the kid if he needed medical attention.
Hawk simply moved with the crowd, stepping off the train without a single backward glance.
As he walked away, he felt the burn of a hateful glare on his back, but he just let a small, cold smile touch his lips.
He had been merciful.
If this hadn't been a crowded subway car, if it had been some dark alley or deserted lot, he would have scattered the little punk's ashes to the wind.
Could he not see that Hawk was wearing clothes that, all combined, weren't worth fifty dollars?
He was this broke, and the kid still tried to rob him?
Was there no justice?
No law?
...
"Gwen?"
As he emerged from the subway station, still stewing over the attempted robbery, Hawk saw her. She was standing in front of the Oscorp Industries building, seemingly waiting for someone.
Gwen, who had been scanning the area, spotted him across the street. Her face lit up, and she raised her hand, waving him over.
Is she waiting for me?
Hawk paused for a second, then darted across the street during a break in traffic.
The Battle of New York had been two weeks ago. Now, looking around Manhattan, you could barely see any trace that an alien invasion had ever happened.
That's the power of money for you.
The battle ended in the morning, and the reconstruction of Manhattan, especially Wall Street, had begun by noon.
The Oscorp building's facade had been heavily damaged during the attack.
But now, you'd never know it had been torn open by the Chitauri.
Hawk glanced up at the massive skyscraper, which rivaled the Stark Tower five blocks away, then looked back at Gwen.
"Were you waiting for me?"
"Of course."
Gwen was dressed differently from her school attire. Today she had her hair in a high ponytail and was wearing the standard-issue white lab coat of a researcher. "If I'm not here waiting for you, how else am I supposed to figure out your secret?"
Hawk just shook his head, a wry smile on his face.
"I don't have any secrets."
"Yes, you do. And I'm going to find out."
Gwen said it with a completely straight face, then her expression softened back into a smile. "Okay, I'm just kidding. Mrs. Snow called me this morning. She forgot you don't have a phone and was worried you wouldn't even be able to get in the front door without a security pass. So she asked me to meet you and take you up to see that, uh..."
Gwen paused, looking at Hawk. "Right, what was that guy's name again?"
"Max Dillon."
Hawk said the name of the future supervillain Electro, currently a super-invisible engineer.
Gwen's face lit up with recognition.
"Right, him. Come on, I'll take you to the Bio-Electricity Engineering department."
"Okay."
Hawk didn't refuse.
Gwen stuck her hands in her lab coat pockets and, with a flick of her ponytail, turned and led him toward the entrance. After swiping her own card, she said a few words to the security guard at the front desk.
The guard looked over at Hawk, then nodded and manually opened the security gate.
Once Hawk was inside, Gwen thanked the guard.
A few moments later.
Gwen, moving with the easy confidence of someone who knew her way around, led Hawk to the Bio-Electricity Engineering department on the first floor of the annex building.
--
"Hawk, check these readings."
"One-oh-eight."
"Hawk, I've got to run down to the SL lab. Can you file the papers on my desk for me?"
"No problem."
Today was Hawk's twentieth day as a summer intern at Oscorp Industries.
And he still hadn't found an opportunity to get to Dr. Connors's lab.
In fact, forget Dr. Connors's lab, in twenty days, he hadn't even set foot outside the Bio-Electricity Engineering department.
From the moment he clocked in to the moment he clocked out, he was busy. He was either reading data for someone or on his way to read data for someone.
Or, like right now, cleaning up someone else's desk.
Hawk watched the engineer hurry out of the office and walked over to the man's workstation.
Even though it had been twenty days and he was no closer to his goal, he wasn't worried.
For one, good things come to those who wait.
And for another...
This place might be a madhouse, but the pay was incredible.
Eight hundred dollars a week, plus a free all-you-can-eat buffet in the 18th-floor cafeteria for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
He might have briefly considered robbing a bank last month, but he hadn't actually done it.
Most importantly.
A line in the sand is meant to be crossed, but until he was forced to cross it, Hawk wanted to stay on the right side of it for as long as possible.
Because he was afraid.
Hawk had no idea what kind of person he would become once he finally broke his own rules.
It's a well-known fact.
Transmigrators are a species with a particularly flexible moral compass, and a deep, instinctual detachment from the people and events around them.
Hawk was no exception.
That was why he avoided socializing. Sometimes, when he looked at other people, he couldn't help but feel like he was looking at NPCs in a video game.
It was a feeling of... being the only sane person in a world of lunatics.
The reason he was still willing to play by the rules, even after awakening his Cosmo, was simple.
The values he'd been raised with in his past life were still ingrained in him: Be a good person. Or, if you can't be good, at least don't be evil.
That was why, even with his incredible power, Hawk still lived a relatively humble life.
Any other transmigrator, on the first day they got powers, would have probably declared themselves the new God of this world.
The most important reason might just be that he was a genuinely good person.
Unfortunately—
Hawk had a feeling that this line he was so determined not to cross would have to be crossed soon, whether he wanted to or not.
But until then, he was happy to follow the rules.
Having been at Oscorp for a few weeks now, Hawk was familiar with the department's rhythm. He quickly organized the scattered papers on the engineer's desk, carried them over to the filing cabinet, and put them away in their proper place.
...
Just then, the office phone rang.
"Haw—"
"I'll get it."
Hawk cut in, walking over and picking up the receiver. "Bio-Electricity Engineering."
"Oh, Hawk?" A familiar voice came through the line.
Hawk raised an eyebrow. "Gwen?"
He hadn't seen her since she had brought him to the department on his first day.
He was busy.
She was even busier.
Even from his isolated post in the engineering department, Hawk had heard the rumors. For the past few weeks, Dr. Connors had been working like a madman.
They weren't just ordering lab rats by the dozen anymore, they were ordering them by the crate.
It was insane.
"Yeah, it's me," Gwen said. "Hey, the voltage in our lab is fluctuating again. Dr. Connors wants you guys to send someone over to take a look."
"Okay, right away."
Hawk hung up and relayed the message to the department supervisor.
The supervisor—a fifty-year-old man with a completely bald head and the Zen-like calm of someone who had given up on life—glanced around the nearly empty office. "Every lab on this floor is reporting voltage drops today. It's probably the resistors again. We just replaced them yesterday... whatever. You, what's-your-name, take Hawk and go down to Dr. Connors's lab. Swap out their resistor."
Hawk followed the supervisor's gaze to a man standing nearby—a quiet, unassuming man with dark skin and a gentle face. The future Electro.
Yep.
A genuinely decent guy.
Max Dillon was a truly good person. He didn't have any of the sly, cunning traits that Hawk had come to associate with others.
In the past twenty days, Hawk had seen it firsthand. If the Bio-Electricity Engineering department had an "Employee of the Month" award for hard work, Max Dillon would win it every time.
If Max had even a shred of office-politics savvy, he wouldn't still be the guy his own supervisor couldn't remember the name of.
But Max himself didn't seem to mind. Maybe he was just used to being called "what's-your-name." He simply nodded at the supervisor's order and headed to the supply closet to get the parts.
A little while later.
Hawk was waiting by the department entrance when Max walked up. "Mr. Dillon."
Max's entire body jolted, and his pupils seemed to contract.
His voice trembled as he looked at Hawk. "You... you know my name?"
Hawk smiled warmly. "Of course, Mr. Dillon."
He had no intention of getting too close to the future Electro, but that didn't mean he couldn't be kind to the Max Dillon of today.
A little kindness goes a long way.
Hawk looked at Max, who now had tears welling up in his eyes. "Mr. Dillon, we should probably get going. Dr. Connors's lab just called again."
Max snapped out of it and nodded eagerly. "Right, right. Let's go."
Hawk smiled to himself and followed Max toward the elevators.
Finally. A chance to get to Dr. Connors's lab.
As they stepped into the elevator, Hawk looked at the floor indicator lighting up, a sense of irony washing over him.
For the past twenty days, he had been racking his brain, trying to figure out a way to get into that lab.
And he had failed, every single time.
This wasn't the local grocery store.
Did he really think he could just waltz into a lab that Oscorp had poured millions of dollars into, a lab that was on the verge of developing a revolutionary regenerative technology that could monopolize the market?
But the moment he had decided to just let it go and let fate take its course, an opportunity had fallen right into his lap.
Patience is a virtue. You can't rush things.
Hawk silently reminded himself, completing his daily moment of self-reflection.
...
Soon.
The elevator doors opened.
"Hawk!" Gwen was already waiting for them. Her face lit up as she saw him step out. She rushed over. "What took you so long? Dr. Connors is about to blow a gasket."
Before Hawk could even say anything, Gwen had grabbed his arm and was pulling him urgently toward the lab.
Hawk was stunned.
But as he looked past her, toward the lab at the end of the hall...
His heart skipped a beat.
--
Dr. Connors's Regeneration Lab was located on the twenty-first floor of the Oscorp building.
The entire space was filled with a dazzling array of complex scientific instruments.
Some of the equipment looked incredibly expensive, even to a casual observer.
But the thing that truly captured Hawk's attention was right in front of him, visible through a large glass window: a strange, dark stone, housed in a transparent, climate-controlled case.
Hawk didn't know what kind of rock it was.
But—
His gut was screaming at him. This was what he had been looking for.
A thought struck him. He turned to Gwen.
"What is that?"
"What?"
Gwen looked up from where Max Dillon was working on the circuitry. She followed Hawk's gaze and then looked back at him.
"Oh, that? It's gamma radiation."
"?"
Gamma Radiation?
A question mark materialized over Hawk's head, and the corner of his mouth twitched. "My physics grades might not be as good as yours, but they're not bad. Since when can gamma radiation be a solid rock?"
Gwen laughed.
She glanced around, making sure none of the other lab techs were listening, then lowered her voice. "Do you remember back in September of '09, when the Hulk tore up Harlem?"
Hawk froze for a second, then nodded. "Of course."
How could he forget?
That day was burned into his memory more than any other since he'd arrived in this world.
It wasn't just because his power had activated that day.
There was another reason too.
He remembered that day with perfect, painful clarity.
Gwen shrugged.
"Then you probably know about the Abomination. He was created using the Hulk's blood."
"Yeah."
Hawk nodded again. Then, a thought occurred to him. He looked at Gwen, a sudden, wild idea in his mind.
"Are you saying that rock is the Abomination?"
"Of course not. Those rocks were brought in from the military base in Quantico."
Gwen explained with a small smile, "The Hulk... Dr. Bruce Banner... he was created in a gamma lab explosion. But something strange happened during that explosion. These rocks were dug out of the wreckage of that lab."
Hawk was floored.
"Then why did you bring up the Abomination?"
"Oh."
Gwen realized her mistake and shrugged. "I just assumed you didn't know the Hulk was Bruce Banner. I mean, you don't have a computer or a phone..."
She trailed off, then another thought struck her. She looked at Hawk. "That phone I gave you. Don't tell me you still haven't gotten a SIM card for it."
Hawk pulled a sleek, iPhone 4-like device from his pocket. "I did."
Gwen had given him the phone on his first day at Oscorp, twenty days ago.
He hadn't wanted to take it, but she'd given him a reason he couldn't refuse.
Every employee had to clock in and out.
Oscorp was no exception.
And she hadn't given him a chance to say no, just shoved the phone into his hand and walked away.
Hawk gave the phone a little shake, then steered the conversation back on topic, his eyes fixed on the strange rock in the glass-walled room.
"What's a rock from Quantico doing here?"
"Because Dr. Connors's research is partially funded by the military."
Gwen explained.
To be more precise, most of Oscorp's major research projects had military backing. Some were even direct partnerships.
Oscorp and the military had always been close.
The company had started out as a herring cannery, but when the wars came, a young Norman Osborn had seen an opportunity. He'd sold off the cannery and converted the factory to produce weapons and ammunition.
These days, Oscorp was out of the arms business, but they still maintained a very cozy relationship with the military.
Take Dr. Connors, for example.
His project was a joint venture between Oscorp and the Department of Defense. The lab was just housed here for convenience.
After all, Dr. Connors had been a military surgeon before coming to Oscorp.
Hawk nodded, finally understanding.
Inside the glass-walled lab, a technician was preparing a vial of an unknown serum. Another was using a robotic arm to carefully lift the so-called "gamma stone."
"What are they doing?"
"A regeneration serum trial."
"The lizard serum?"
It was no secret that Dr. Connors was studying reptiles, trying to unlock the secret of their ability to regrow lost limbs.
His research papers were all publicly available.
But most of the scientific community was skeptical.
There were a lot of reasons why.
Hawk had never bothered to read them in detail. He'd never had any ambition to be a scientist, either before or after awakening his Cosmo.
So, Gwen wasn't surprised that he knew about it. She just nodded. "Dr. Connors thinks that combining the lizard serum with gamma radiation might be the breakthrough he's been looking for."
Hawk nodded slowly, his eyes still on the stone being held by the robotic arm. An idea sparked. He looked at Gwen. "Can I go in and get a closer look?"
He had to be sure.
Gwen remembered seeing him reading that research paper in the library.
"Don't tell me you're actually interested in the stuff that turns people into monsters."
"Not the radiation. The rock."
Hawk said, shaking his head. From a scientific standpoint, gamma radiation couldn't be stored. The moment it was emitted, it was gone.
What's that?
This is the Marvel Universe, and science doesn't apply?
Okay, fair enough.
Gwen thought for a moment. She decided that letting him get a closer look wouldn't spoil any of Dr. Connors's secrets, so she nodded.
A jolt of excitement went through Hawk. As he followed Gwen toward the lab entrance, he called out to Max Dillon. "Max, I'm just going to go check out that amazing rock."
He didn't call him Mr. Dillon. Max had insisted against it. It seemed that just by knowing his name, Hawk had accidentally made a friend.
...
Max looked up from his work, a gentle, good-natured smile on his face. "Okay. I'm almost done here anyway."
Hawk said a quick "thanks" and then followed Gwen as she swiped her keycard and opened the door to the inner lab.
And then.
The moment Hawk stepped across the threshold, the moment his eyes locked onto the gamma stone clutched in the robotic arm...
Instantly.
A message, clear and undeniable, surged through him from the depths of his Cosmo.
That's it.
That's the one.
Gammanium.
--
A gentle tap.
"Pa."
The moment the stone in the transparent containment unit was fractured, a strange light, invisible to the naked eye but perfectly clear to Hawk, burst forth.
And in that same instant, his Cosmo surged.
The message was unmistakable.
His Cosmo was telling him one thing.
Gammanium.
He had found it.
As the information from his Cosmo settled, Hawk finally understood what Gammanium was. A wry, almost exasperated smile touched his lips.
The reason was simple.
Gammanium, put simply, was stabilized gamma radiation. Once an uncontrollable energy, it had somehow condensed into a storable solid.
That was Gammanium.
Yep. It sounded ridiculous.
But it didn't matter. What mattered was that Hawk now knew where to find what he needed.
Quantico.
The lab where Bruce Banner was caught in the gamma bomb explosion.
Gwen, who had taken on the role of temporary tour guide, saw Hawk staring intently at the fractured stone. She gently nudged him with her elbow.
Hawk snapped back to the present and looked at her.
His eyes were clear.
"Hm?"
"What are you thinking about?"
Gwen's brow was furrowed. "You're not actually thinking about turning yourself into a monster like the Abomination, are you?"
She had seen the entranced look in his eyes and had gotten the distinct feeling that Hawk was contemplating leaving his humanity behind.
Hawk pushed aside the sudden urge to bolt for Quantico and shook his head. "Of course not. I was just wondering if Dr. Connors's experiment is close to a breakthrough."
Gwen was about to reply.
Just then.
Dr. Connors, who had seen Gwen bring a visitor into the lab, walked over. He overheard Hawk's comment and chimed in, "Scientific progress is a long road of trial and error. But yes, I do believe we are on the verge of success."
Gwen turned to greet him.
"Doctor."
"Curtis. Curtis Connors." Dr. Connors, also in a white lab coat but with only one arm, smiled and extended his left hand to Hawk. "And you are...?"
Hawk met his handshake with his own left hand. "Hawk. I'm a classmate of Gwen's. I'm working in the Bio-Electricity department for the summer. I came over with Mr. Dillon, and I asked Gwen if I could see the lab. I hope I'm not disturbing you, Doctor."
Dr. Connors laughed. "I heard what you said to Gwen. Do you really believe my experiment can succeed?"
Hawk smiled back. "I've read your papers, Doctor. It's clear that if your experiment is successful, it will be a tremendous benefit to mankind."
It wasn't flattery, it was a fact.
If Dr. Connors's regeneration research succeeded, it could mean the end of physical disabilities for the entire world.
Of course, that was assuming he could actually create a regeneration serum, and not just the lizard formula that turned him into a monster.
But... That seemed unlikely to happen here.
In the other story, Dr. Connors only became the Lizard because of a push from Spider-Man.
And while this Dr. Connors looked just like the one from the movie, there was no Andrew Garfield Spider-Man in this universe.
There was a Spider-Man, sure.
But he was interning at the Daily Bugle. He wasn't likely to show up here.
So—
The probability of this Dr. Connors becoming the Lizard was probably lower than the probability of Max Dillon becoming Electro next year.
Hawk chose his words carefully.
He didn't say whether he believed in it or not, only that its success would benefit humanity.
Dr. Connors was clearly pleased. He laughed again and, just before he walked away, he turned to Gwen. "Gwen, feel free to show your classmate our current progress."
It wasn't often he got such positive feedback. Besides, Gwen wasn't involved in the core research, and the progress was all unclassified. There was no risk of a leak.
Gwen nodded. Once Dr. Connors was gone, she stood next to Hawk again and whispered, "Do you really think his experiment can work?"
Hawk was watching the technician who had fractured the gamma stone walk over to a centrifuge. He turned to Gwen.
Just as he was about to shake his head and say no, he sensed something. He looked up at the ceiling.
The fluorescent lights overhead flickered once, twice.
The next second.
POP!
With the sound of a bursting bulb, the entire lab was plunged into darkness.
"Thump!"
"Holy—"
"Squelch!"
In the sudden blackness, a series of sharp, violent sounds echoed through the room. Hawk instantly felt a wave of pressure rushing toward—
Gwen.
Without thinking, almost on pure instinct, Hawk shot his right hand out, shielding her.
"Thwip!"
"..."
A sharp pain lanced through his palm. He gritted his teeth as the lab's emergency lights kicked in, bathing the room in a scary red glow.
The scene they illuminated was horrific.
A female lab technician lay in a rapidly growing pool of her own blood.
She was clutching at her neck, where a shard of the destroyed centrifuge had embedded itself. Blood bubbled and frothed between her fingers.
A few white lab mice scurried across the floor.
"HOLY SHIT!"
"Mia?"
"JESUS CHRIST!"
"Mia!"
The people in the lab, their faces pale in the red light, began to panic. Some ran out to get help, while others rushed toward the fallen woman.
Gwen's eyes were locked on Hawk, who had quickly pulled his right hand back and hidden it behind him.
Her gaze was sharp. She moved to stand directly in front of him.
"Show me your hand."
"What?"
Hawk feigned confusion.
Gwen didn't say another word. She just reached out, grabbed his arm, and pulled his right hand out from behind his back, forcing it open.
And there it was.
Hawk's palm was completely unharmed, except for a small patch of skin in the center that looked brand new.
Gwen stared, speechless.
Hawk just smiled and pulled his hand back. "My hand's not as pretty as yours."
Gwen didn't reply, her brow furrowed in thought.
Just then, Oscorp's paramedics and security team burst into the lab and began clearing the area.
In the ensuing chaos, Hawk grabbed a dazed-looking Max Dillon and slipped out of the lab.
Gwen remained standing just outside the door, her mind racing.
She was certain she hadn't imagined it.
The moment the lights went out, she had felt that wave of pressure, that sense of something moving through the air. It was gone in an instant, but she had seen it—in that split second, she had seen a few drops of blood fall right in front of her.
But Hawk's hand was fine.
Wait a minute...
A thought struck her. Her eyes lit up. She walked back to the entrance of the lab and looked at the spot where she had been standing.
There, on the pristine white floor.
Were a few distinct drops of blood.
A lab mouse with a severed tail scurried over. It sniffed at the drops, then its eyes seemed to brighten, and it began to lick the blood from the floor.
Shit.
Gwen snapped out of it and rushed back into the lab.
--
Evening.
On the rooftop of the new apartment building.
His workout finished, Hawk tugged at the hem of his shorts and sat down, leaning his back against the cool metal of the ventilation shaft. He grabbed a Coke from beside him and took a long drink.
Just then.
A thought occurred to him. He put the soda down and opened his right hand, palm up.
The spot where Gwen had seen a patch of new skin was now completely gone, without a trace.
After awakening his Cosmo, his strength, speed, and durability had all transcended the limits of a normal human.
Even without burning his Cosmo:
His strength could easily shatter boulders, demolish thick walls, and even bend steel.
His speed, if he pushed it, could break the sound barrier.
His durability was just as impressive.
He could withstand impacts that would kill a normal person instantly, even without the protection of a Saint Armor. And if he did get injured, his Accelerated Healing allowed him to recover from fatigue and minor wounds far faster than any human.
That piece of shrapnel from the centrifuge today was a perfect example.
If he hadn't intervened, Gwen wouldn't have stood a chance. The shard would have killed her instantly.
But that wasn't what was bothering him.
The important thing was...
Hawk replayed the moment in his mind, his left hand tracing the spot on his right palm where he'd felt the impact.
He frowned, lost in thought. Just then, the phone lying next to him began to ring.
Hawk snapped out of it, surprised. Since he'd gotten the SIM card, this was the first time it had ever actually rung.
He answered.
"Hello?"
"...Yeah, it's me. Are you there?"
"Okay, I'm on my way."
He hung up.
Hawk sprang to his feet. In a blur, his figure vanished, reappearing a moment later by the fire escape. He slipped back through his window, grabbed five hundred dollars from his backpack, and headed out.
...
Ten minutes later.
At the entrance to Queensbridge Park, across the street.
Hawk stood by the gate, scanned the empty surroundings, then pulled out his phone and dialed the only number in his contacts.
A moment later, the headlights of a parked van down the street flashed once.
Hawk's eyes snapped toward the vehicle.
The driver's side door opened, and a young Asian woman with long, thick brown hair, looking to be in her early twenties, stepped out. She held up a phone, showing him his own number on the screen.
Hawk looked at her face and raised an eyebrow.
Skye?
Skye, standing next to her van—which also looked like her home—called out the agreed-upon code phrase. "Faster than a speeding bullet?"
Hawk nodded. "But not as strong."
That was the signal. Skye didn't waste any more time. She pulled a laptop from the van and handed it to him. "Just like we discussed online. Three years old, but in great condition. I've already wiped it and installed a fresh OS. Check it out. If you're happy, you can pay me."
Hawk took the laptop without a word.
After all, this was a five-hundred-dollar transaction.
If he had been a little less proud, he might have just asked Gwen if she had an old laptop he could have.
Again.
A line in the sand is meant to be crossed.
He had already accepted the phone Gwen had practically forced on him.
But, Hawk thought, a man's got to have some dignity.
Still, he never would have guessed that the random seller he'd found on a used electronics forum this afternoon would turn out to be another major player in the Marvel Universe.
Skye.
The future Quake.
Hawk shook his head at the irony. He opened the "girl's old laptop" and ran a quick diagnostic, confirming that it booted up and ran the basic programs without any issues. Satisfied, he closed it and handed over the five hundred dollars he had brought.
Skye took the five crisp hundred-dollar bills and inspected them just as carefully.
A moment later.
She pocketed the money and extended her hand. "Pleasure doing business with you."
Hawk shifted the laptop to his left hand and shook hers. "Likewise."
No small talk.
Just business.
The transaction complete, Skye got back in her van, started the engine, and drove off without another word.
...
Hawk returned to his apartment, placed the "girl's old laptop" from Skye on his folding table, and set the "girl's old phone" from Gwen next to it.
Comparing them like this, Gwen was better.
Wait, what am I thinking?
Hawk frowned again, shaking the distracting thoughts from his head. He connected the laptop to the mobile hotspot from Gwen's phone.
Next step.
Quantico.
He opened a satellite map and zoomed in on the coordinates of the military base.
Some of the more classified buildings were blurred out.
But it didn't matter.
With a single glance, Hawk found it: a ruined, fenced-off structure on the edge of the base.
He spent the next half hour cross-referencing information, confirming that this was, in fact, the remains of the lab where Bruce Banner was exposed.
The internet was a powerful tool. After the Avengers were revealed to the world, and with Banner's own public incident back in '09, his history was all out there.
His life story, how he became the Hulk, when he became the Hulk... it was all online.
Even the gossip about his past relationship with Betty Ross had been dredged up.
But that wasn't what Hawk was focused on.
Sitting in his new apartment, one hand propping up his chin, the other scrolling on the trackpad, Hawk stared at the satellite image of the abandoned lab, a thoughtful, calculating look in his eyes.
Hawk had a feeling he was about to cross that line.
He had no choice. He had no money, and even if he did, the military wasn't about to sell him a piece of a top-secret Gamma experiment.
But he needed that Gammanium.
His Saint Armor depended on it.
However...
Stealing the Gammanium from a US military base was not the same as stealing Vibranium from Wakanda.
To put it simply:
If he stole the Vibranium and got caught, the world wouldn't come after him. It would be like starting a raid and having the rest of the server automatically join his team. The world would come after Wakanda. The five permanent members of the UN Security Council would undoubtedly demand that Wakanda share its resources, or at the very least, allow a UN peacekeeping force within its borders.
So, he wasn't worried about Wakanda.
Hawk stared at the satellite map on his screen, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
--
The next day.
On the subway ride to Oscorp, Hawk was still thinking about the gamma stones stored at the Quantico military base.
He had a plan.
If he was going to hit a place like Quantico, there was only one way to do it.
A lightning raid.
Get in, get out. No hesitation.
After all, he was talking about storming a United States military base, not some random warehouse.
The FBI Academy was there.
The infamous CIA headquarters in Langley was just down the road.
Robbing Quantico was the equivalent of taking a dump on the heads of the US military, the FBI, and the CIA, all at the same time.
...
"Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst."
"I need to make a trip out to Quantico first. Do some recon."
"At the very least, I need to scout the place out and map an escape route."
Lost in thought, Hawk swiped his keycard and walked into the Oscorp building, heading up to the Bio-Electricity department.
And then. He was immediately called into his supervisor's office.
The future Electro, Max Dillon, was already there.
The supervisor looked uncomfortable. After a long silence, he finally spoke to Max. "Starting today, you're being transferred to the maintenance division."
Max Dillon looked stunned.
"Sir, I—"
"I'm not finished."
The supervisor cut him off, then turned to Hawk and sighed. "Hawk, you're being let go. You can collect your final week's pay."
"..." Hawk just blinked.
He wasn't as shocked as Max. He had already figured out what this was about. He looked at the supervisor, his expression calm.
"May I ask why?"
"The accident in Dr. Connors's lab yesterday."
Knew it.
Hawk thought to himself.
Max was frantic. "Sir, what does a power outage have to do with us? Our department only supplies the building's general power. The specialized equipment in the labs runs on a completely different—"
The supervisor rubbed his forehead. "That's enough. This isn't a negotiation, it's a decision. You can go... Hawk, stay."
Max stood frozen for a moment, then looked at Hawk.
Hawk just shrugged.
"It's okay, Max."
"Alright."
Max looked like he wanted to say more, but he just hung his head and walked out of the office.
...
Once Max was gone, the supervisor sighed again. "I'm sorry, kid. I pulled every string I had to keep Max, but there was nothing I could do for you. You're a good worker, Hawk. If there's anything you need, just ask. I'll do what I can."
Hawk smiled slightly. "It's fine. Just make sure you explain the situation to Mrs. Snow."
His only reason for coming to Oscorp was to find the Gammanium. Now that he had, there was no reason to stay.
His original plan had been to ask for a few days off, not get fired.
After all, this job was a favor from Mrs. Snow. She was a good person who had always looked out for him, and he didn't want to make her look bad.
But now he didn't even have to ask for time off.
The supervisor looked relieved. "Of course. In fact, I just got off the phone with Selena. I know this wasn't your fault, or, uh, what's-his-name's..."
Hawk prompted him. "Max."
"Right, Max." The supervisor's brow smoothed out. "I know it wasn't your fault. But... my hands are tied."
Hawk just shook his head with a small, knowing smile.
The truth was, Max had been right. The Bio-Electricity department's power grid was for the building's basic needs.
Those eels could only generate limited juice.
It wasn't nearly enough to power the dozens of labs with their massive, energy-guzzling equipment.
But you can't fix stupid.
The whole mess had started because some idiot executive at Oscorp thought the Bio-Electricity department could handle a bigger load.
And now that there had been an accident, that same executive was refusing to take responsibility.
Yep.
Scumbag move, but it fit the corporate profile.
It was that simple.
Hawk didn't linger. He took the eight hundred dollars for his final week's work, walked out of the office, and left the Oscorp building without a backward glance.
"Hawk, wait!"
Just as he was about to cross the street to the subway, Gwen came running out of the building.
Hawk turned and watched her catch up.
"Did Mrs. Snow call you?"
"Yeah."
Gwen stopped, leaning over with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
She'd run down as soon as she'd gotten the call, but by the time she got to the Bio-Electricity department, they told her Hawk had already left.
Good thing she'd caught him.
After a moment, she straightened up and looked at his face. "Are you okay?"
Hawk shrugged. "Never better."
He hadn't let Mrs. Snow's favor go to waste, he was free to head to Quantico, and he'd gotten a free week's pay out of it.
What was not to like?
He saw the genuine concern in Gwen's eyes and gave her a reassuring smile.
"Don't worry, I'm really fine. The supervisor said I could even come back and work here during winter break."
The supervisor did indeed say so.
He had no intention of coming back, but he hadn't turned down the offer either.
You never know.
Never burn a bridge. Never say never. A lesson well learned.
...
Gwen seemed to relax, seeing that he was genuinely not upset. "So, what are your plans now? You've still got over a month until school starts."
"Probably just stay home and read. You know how it is. It's too late to find another decent summer job now."
Hawk shrugged, then started to turn away. "Anyway, you should get back inside. I'm really okay."
Gwen nodded. "Alright. Well, if you get bored, we could go study at the library sometime."
Hawk paused for a second.
But Gwen didn't give him a chance to reply. It seemed that ever since she'd given him the phone, she'd figured out the best way to talk to him was to not let him talk at all. She just smiled, turned, and with her hands in her pockets, walked back into the Oscorp building.
Hawk watched her go, a small, genuine smile on her face as she waved at him one last time. He frowned slightly.
The next second.
He turned and walked away.
Time to get to work.
Quantico.
Here I come!
--
Vroooom!
2:30 PM.
The flight from New York touched down, taxiing smoothly to a stop at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport in Washington, D.C.
Half an hour later.
Traveling light, Hawk walked out of the airport, went straight to the taxi stand, and got into the back of the first cab in line. He gave the address of a motel in Quantico Town to the young driver.
The driver nodded, started the meter, and pulled away from the curb.
Just because the FBI Academy was in Quantico didn't mean the area was off-limits to civilians.
You just couldn't waltz onto the military-controlled parts.
Quantico Town itself, the area surrounding the base, was open to the public.
Any disciplined man is a person of action, and Hawk was a man who had thrown ten thousand punches a day for a thousand straight days.
His ability to act was second to none.
The moment he'd left the Oscorp building that morning, he had gone straight to the airport and bought a ticket for the next flight to D.C.
He hadn't even gone home to pack a change of clothes.
Fortunately, he had spent all of last night studying the satellite maps of Quantico, roughing out a plan for how he was going to get his Gammanium.
Otherwise, he'd be stumbling around completely lost.
...
"Plan A."
"Get in quiet, get out quiet."
"But if I'm spotted, switch to Plan B immediately."
"Overwhelming force. No survivors!"
Sitting in the back of the taxi, Hawk silently reviewed his plan, then turned his gaze to the scenery passing by outside the window.
And then...
Without changing his expression, his eyes flickered to the young driver in the front seat. He casually pulled his phone from his pocket, the one he'd forgotten to turn back on after the flight.
The phone booted up.
A series of dings announced a flood of incoming text messages.
Hawk's eyebrow twitched. Just as he was about to unlock the screen to see what spam his carrier had sent him this time, a low voice, accompanied by the black, unblinking eye of a gun barrel, filled the car.
"DON'T MOVE. GIVE ME THE PHONE."
"..."
Hawk froze.
Who am I?
Where am I?
What am I doing?
No, seriously.
I'm on my way to rob a military base, and I'm getting robbed the second I land?
Damn it.
This is the nation's capital. Is the crime rate really worse than New York's?
In an instant, Hawk's opinion of Washington, D.C. plummeted.
The young driver, watching him in the rearview mirror, saw that he was frozen. He growled, waggling the gun. "I said, don't move. Hand over the phone."
Hawk snapped out of it.
"Do you want me to not move, or do you want me to give you the phone?"
"..."
The driver fell silent for a moment, processing the question.
The next second, he seemed to snap.
"Motherfucker, don't get smart with me, give me the f—"
Ring, ring!
Just as the driver was losing his cool, Hawk's phone began to ring.
It was Gwen.
Hawk answered the call and put the phone to his ear.
"Hello?"
"..."
The young driver broke.
He watched in the rearview mirror as this kid, completely ignoring the gun pointed at his head, not even bothering to pretend to be scared, just casually answered his phone. He had a full-blown meltdown.
The next second, he slammed on the brakes. The taxi screeched to a halt. He twisted in his seat, lunging for the back.
"Motherfucker, I'll f—"
"Thump!"
"Aaaaaaaargh!"
"..."
On the other end of the line, Gwen, who had just been about to speak, heard what sounded like a pained scream.
"Was that someone screaming, Hawk?"
"...Yeah. Some guy walking by was watching a movie on his phone. Probably some violent action flick."
"Sounds like it. That scream sounded exactly like someone getting their ribs broken."
"Uh..."
Hawk, who was now leaning over the front seat, one hand clamped over the driver's mouth, looked down at the exact spot on the man's ribs he had just struck. "You can tell where someone's injured just from the sound of their scream?"
A laugh came from the other end of the line.
"Of course. My dad's a police captain. And between you and me, I'm probably more qualified than most of the rookies at his precinct."
"...I can see that."
Hawk was speechless.
What could he even say? A genius is a genius. They learn everything faster and better than anyone else.
Just then, Gwen's laugh became bright and clear.
"I'm kidding. Of course I can't."
"...Right. You had me for a second."
"So, why was your phone off? I've been trying to call you."
"What's up?"
Hawk maintained his position, one hand silencing the driver, the other holding the phone to his ear.
"Come downstairs."
"What?"
"Dr. Connors found out you were fired and that you were the scapegoat. He felt bad, so he prepared a little something for you. But I couldn't reach you, so I just came over. Are you not home?"
Gwen, who had just parked her yellow Corolla in front of Hawk's new apartment building, tapped an envelope sitting on the passenger seat and peered up at his window.
Hearing that Gwen was right outside his apartment, Hawk went silent for a second, then it clicked.
"Right, I'm not home. Can you just hold on to it for me? You can give it to me when school starts."
"I'm already out of the car."
Gwen closed her car door and started walking toward the building. "You're on the top floor, facing the street, right? Your window's open. I'll just take the fire escape and leave it inside for you."
Hawk was stunned.
He wasn't surprised that Gwen knew where he lived. She had probably seen his address on his employment forms.
But...
"How do you know that?"
"I saw your shorts hanging in the window."
"Uh..."
"You've had those for three years. And if I remember correctly, they used to be pants, right? You cut them into shorts back in tenth grade."
"Anyway, I'm just going to drop this off. I've gotta get going."
"..."
--
Hawk listened to the dial tone for a moment, then pocketed his phone.
The next second, his mind was racing.
He wasn't worried about Gwen being in his apartment. He was worried about what she might find. He quickly ran a mental checklist of anything embarrassing or incriminating.
Embarrassing?
Nope.
He didn't own any posters, let alone magazines or videos.
He was too broke.
In his younger years, when he had too much energy, he would just go up to the roof and punch the air until he was too exhausted to think, then go back inside and sleep.
Incriminating?
He didn't think so.
The five Chitauri weapons were wrapped tightly in a bedsheet and shoved all the way under his bed.
She probably wouldn't find them.
So—
Whatever. Let her.
Time to deal with the problem at hand.
With that thought, Hawk's focus returned to the present. The warmth in his eyes from his conversation with Gwen vanished, replaced by a chillingly cold indifference.
The young driver, his mouth still covered, stared at Hawk with wide, terrified eyes.
Hawk savored the fear in the man's gaze. A slow, handsome smile spread across his face.
"Now..."
"It's my turn to rob you."
"..."
...
After hanging up, Gwen put her phone away and walked over to the fire escape on the side of Hawk's building. She climbed effortlessly to the top floor.
She pushed aside the pair of shorts that had been hanging in the half-open window—shorts that, on closer inspection, looked like they had once been a pair of sweatpants—and slipped inside.
She looked around.
The living room was small. A secondhand sofa and a folding table with a laptop on it took up two-thirds of the space.
But it was clean.
Not spotless, but neat and orderly.
Gwen's first impression of the place was that it was... comfortable.
She had never been to Hawk's old apartment, and this was the first time she'd seen his new one.
But as she pulled Dr. Connors' envelope from her pocket and set it on the folding table, her gaze was drawn to the closed laptop.
It wasn't that she was surprised he owned a computer.
It was...
The stickers on the lid.
"Are these..."
"Unicorns?"
Gwen couldn't help but laugh, looking at the cutesy, girly stickers plastered all over the laptop. She wondered which of his female friends had sold him the computer.
It never even crossed her mind that Hawk might have put the stickers on himself, or that a girl might have given him the laptop as a gift.
Impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
No one knew Hawk better than she did.
She had no doubt that if she had tried to talk to him after giving him the phone, he would have just handed it right back to her.
That was why she had deliberately avoided him for the past few weeks.
With that thought, Gwen's eyes returned to the envelope on the table. She turned to leave.
But as she turned, the sleeve of her open jacket caught the air, creating a small gust of wind that lifted the envelope from the table.
It fluttered through the air and drifted into the adjacent bedroom.
Gwen sighed and walked into the room. She bent down to pick up the envelope, which had landed just short of the bed. As she stood up, a faint, greenish light pulsing from under the bed caught her eye.
She froze.
Her eyes darted to the space under the bed.
She could just make out the shape of a large, tightly wrapped bundle.
The bedsheet it was wrapped in was clearly cheap.
It wasn't opaque.
A faint, greenish light was pulsing from within, like a slow, rhythmic breath.
The light was dim.
Even in the daylight, she wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't caught it out of the corner of her eye.
What is that?
Gwen crouched down, peering under the bed, her brow furrowed in curiosity.
Just as she was about to stand back up, her gaze shifted. She saw a cracked picture frame on the nightstand.
Inside the frame was a photograph.
The background was Times Square. The subjects were a boy and a girl, both looking to be about fourteen years old, their clothes slightly faded and worn.
The boy, Gwen recognized.
It was Hawk.
He was smiling. A wide, genuinely happy smile.
Gwen couldn't remember ever seeing him smile like that.
But the girl?
Gwen's frown deepened. She put the envelope down and picked up the photograph.
The picture must have been taken when Hawk was fourteen, not long after he started at Midtown.
Gwen was sure of the date.
She recognized the pants Hawk was wearing in the photo.
They were the same ones she had just been mentally teasing him about—the ones he had worn for three years, and when they got too short, had cut into shorts instead of throwing them away.
The very same shorts that were still hanging in his window.
But who was the girl?
Gwen studied the photo, her eyes drawn to the girl with the pale complexion, who was also smiling happily, her arms linked tightly with Hawk's.
His sister?
He's never mentioned a sister.
Gwen saw the subtle family resemblance in their features.
She racked her brain. Hawk had never, ever mentioned her.
Is she gone?
Gwen thought of the most likely reason for his silence. She gently placed the picture frame back on the nightstand, stood up, and walked out of the room.
As she reached the living room, she stopped, slapping her forehead.
She had forgotten the envelope.
"Huh?"
"Where'd it go?"
Gwen walked back into the bedroom, confused. The envelope was no longer on the floor where she'd left it. Then, she realized what must have happened. She crouched down again.
Sure enough.
The envelope had slid under the bed, probably blown there by the breeze when she rose.
Gwen sighed, reached under the bed, and felt around for it.
Soon.
Her fingertips brushed against the edge of the envelope.
And at the same time...
They brushed against the tightly wrapped bedsheet.
The moment her fingers made contact, she felt it. A cold, hard sensation, like touching metal, shot from her fingertips to her brain.
--
A remote backroad, thirty miles north of Quantico Town.
Hawk had studied the satellite maps. He knew the general layout of the area and the route he was supposed to take from the airport.
So, the moment the young driver had veered off the main road, Hawk knew something was wrong.
His memory was already sharp, but after awakening his Cosmo, it had become flawless.
Hawk got out of the car and scanned his surroundings.
Remote.
Muddy.
A perfect place to rob, murder, and bury a body. No wonder the kid had driven him out here.
Behind him, still in the car, the young driver was bruised and bloodied, but alive. He was still screaming.
Hawk hadn't killed him.
Not yet.
After a moment, Hawk turned, opened the car door, and with a single, effortless motion, dragged the whimpering driver out of the car. He tossed him onto the muddy dirt road.
"Splat."
The driver, dizzy and disoriented, scrambled to his feet, driven by pure survival instinct. He fell to his knees in front of Hawk, his voice trembling. "Please, don't kill me. Please. I'm sorry. I was wrong."
Hawk looked down at him—the man who had been so arrogant just minutes ago, now so pathetic.
His voice was cold.
"You're not sorry you were wrong. You're just sorry you're about to die."
"..."
The driver's body went rigid, his pleas becoming even more desperate.
Hawk's eyes narrowed. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."
The driver's mind raced.
He looked up at Hawk, his face a swollen mess, and babbled, "You can have the car. My money. I have money. You can have all my money."
"Not good enough. If I kill you, the car and the money are mine anyway."
Hawk shook his head, his expression unchanged.
"Try again."
"...You can't kill me. If you do, you'll be a wanted man. If you let me go, I swear, I won't tell anyone. I won't say a word. Please, don't kill me."
The driver's words tumbled out, his eyes wide with a desperate will to live.
Hawk glanced at him, then looked down, as if considering it.
He seemed to be weighing the odds of the man keeping his word.
"..." The driver, seeing Hawk's gaze shift, felt a flicker of hope.
He kept begging, his voice cracking, while his right hand slowly, carefully, crept toward the small of his back.
The next second.
"Hyaaaaah!!"
He whipped a folding knife from his waistband and, with a guttural cry, lunged at Hawk, his face twisted in a snarl. "DIE!"
Hawk looked up. His eyes were like ice. He didn't even flinch. He just slapped him.
Whump-whump-whump!
The driver's head began to spin, as if it were a top that had just been wound.
Faster and faster.
Tighter and tighter.
Until—
SQUELCH!
His neck, twisted into an impossible shape, tore loose from his shoulders.
Splat.
Thump.
Hawk looked down at the head that had just rolled to a stop at his feet, the snarl still frozen on its face. A contemptuous smile touched his lips.
"I was actually going to let you go..."
"A pity."
"I gave you the one and only chance I might ever have for weakness in this life, and you thought it was fear."
Hawk's gaze shifted to the headless body, which was now gushing blood onto the muddy ground.
He hadn't been lying. He had actually considered letting the man live.
It wasn't just because he had business to attend to and didn't want any complications.
There was another, more important reason.
The line.
Just as he had thought, once that line was crossed, he had no idea what he would become.
Killing is like a valve.
Once it's opened, the sanctity of life is gone.
This was especially true for a transmigrator, someone who already had a flexible moral compass.
The Chitauri had been different.
Hawk had seen them without their helmets. They were insects.
A human doesn't feel guilt for killing a bug. And Hawk wasn't about to apply his moral code to a race of overgrown cockroaches.
But this man was different.
And yet—
Just as Hawk had suspected.
Even though this was the first time he had truly killed a human, as he looked at the headless corpse, he felt nothing. No revulsion, no guilt. Not even a flicker of emotion.
No, wait.
He did feel something.
This feels no different from killing a Chitauri.
Hawk closed his eyes for a moment.
He had no intention of trying to close the valve again.
Some things, once done, can't be undone.
The floodgates were open. Whether he liked it or not, from this day forward, killing would no longer be something he shied away from.
...
With that final thought, Hawk turned away from the head in the mud and the bleeding corpse. He got into the taxi, glanced up at the clear blue sky, then started the engine and drove away.
He didn't bother to bury the body.
The valve was open, and it wasn't closing. Whether the body was found or not was no longer his problem.
Killing one is still killing.
Killing another, or another hundred, was just a matter of numbers now.
However—
"I can kill."
"But I must not revel in it."
"A true warrior always maintains a humble heart."
Hawk thought to himself, steering the taxi back onto the main road. He glanced around, got his bearings, and headed toward Quantico Town.
He might not have a driver's license in this life, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to drive.
As the taxi disappeared down the road, the backroad returned to its usual quiet, desolate state.
About half an hour later.
A footstep broke the silence.
Then a second, and a third.
Soon.
Three men in dark sunglasses walked onto the scene. Their eyes fell on the head in the mud and the headless corpse, its bleeding finally stopped.
--
Hawk didn't drive the stolen taxi all the way into Quantico Town.
About ten miles out, he veered off the road, sent the taxi plunging into a reservoir, and started walking.
But his luck was holding.
After about a mile, a car pulled over. The driver was a military wife who lived in the town, on her way back from a supply run.
When she heard where he was headed, she cheerfully offered him a ride.
Hawk didn't refuse.
Once they got to town, there was no awkward drama. She didn't find it strange that he was alone or invite him to stay at her place.
She just dropped him off in front of a clothing store, and from there, it was a short walk to the town's motel.
Hawk paid for the room, got his key, and went up to the second floor.
Before he went inside, he paused and looked out over the town. He could see it from here, not too far in the distance: the main gate of the Quantico Military Base.
The entrance was heavily guarded by soldiers.
Every vehicle, every pedestrian, had to stop and be searched.
Hawk only looked for a moment before turning away.
It was too late today.
Tomorrow.
Recon during the day. Strike at night.
And then—
Get the hell out. By the time the driver's body was discovered and the investigation eventually led back to him, it would be weeks, if not months.
In some countries, a murder might be a big deal, a case to be solved overnight.
But here, there were a lot of nobodies.
Hawk figured that by the time the authorities even had a name, he'd already be wearing his Saint Armor.
And at that point...
I am inevitable.
Besides, Hawk didn't think they'd ever track him down.
Here's a joke: the security camera at the airport taxi stand was broken.
Hawk had seen it when he got in the cab. The one and only camera that might have recorded him had been decapitated.
That was another reason he hadn't bothered to hide the body.
He didn't care, and he had a very realistic understanding of federal law enforcement's efficiency.
The different agencies didn't talk to each other.
To put it simply, if you committed a crime in New York and left fingerprints, and then committed another crime in California and left fingerprints, the authorities in California would have no way of matching them.
The state databases weren't connected.
And more importantly...
Hawk had been a model citizen in this life. He had no criminal record. His fingerprints weren't in any database, not even New York's.
So even if they found the body and his prints all over it, they'd have no one to match them to.
...
Half an hour later.
After completing his ten-thousand-punch routine in the motel room, Hawk took a shower.
When he got out, he saw his phone, which he'd left on the bed, ringing. He had just picked it up, before he could even see who was calling, when the screen went black and the ringing stopped.
"Huh?"
"Dead battery?" Hawk shrugged. He didn't give it another thought. He didn't bother looking for a charger.
Just like before, he had no one to talk to. And no one who wanted to talk to him.
He tossed the dead phone aside, pulled back the covers, and got into bed.
Time to sleep. Big day tomorrow.
Within three minutes, he was fast asleep, a soft snore filling the quiet room.
...
New York City.
In her bedroom, Gwen frowned as her call to Hawk went straight to a "this number is no longer in service" message. She put her phone down, tapped it against her chin, and then turned to her laptop. She opened a website, glanced at a two-factor authentication code on her phone, and typed it in.
A moment later, a map appeared on her screen.
There was a single, pulsing dot on it.
But the dot wasn't in New York City.
It was—
Washington, D.C.?
Why is Hawk's phone in D.C.?
Did it get stolen?
Gwen thought to herself.
She swore she hadn't meant to track him.
When she'd gotten home, she had received an automated text from her phone provider, a security alert stating that a device linked to her account had logged in from an unusual location.
That's when she remembered.
When she'd given Hawk her old phone, she had wiped all the data, but apparently never logged out of her account.
Now, seeing that the phone's last known location before it died was in Washington, D.C, her first thought was that it had been stolen.
After all, New York City had a lot of thieves.
Gwen thought back to the first phone she'd ever bought, the one that had been stolen less than three days after she got it. A wave of resentment washed over her.
Whatever. I'll just give him another one when school starts.
She shook her head, closed the tracking website, and then pulled up a different page: a digital copy of a newspaper.
It was an article published right after the Battle of New York.
It had a picture.
A picture of a block in Jackson Heights, Queens, that had been completely leveled.
Gwen scrolled through the article, reading the details.
Just then, she heard footsteps in the hallway.
She looked up.
The next second, her eyes lit up. An idea struck her. She closed the webpage, jumped up from her chair, and ran to her bedroom door, pulling it open.
"Dad!"
"..."
George Stacy, who made it a point to check on his daughter every night when he got home, was startled by the sudden appearance of Gwen, her eyes shining with excitement.
A slow smile spread across his face. "Sorry, kiddo. No new intel on Spider-Man for you tonight."
Recently, a masked vigilante in a ridiculous red and blue suit had been swinging around the city, playing hero.
The NYPD was not amused.
Their official stance: if vigilantes were so effective, what was the point of having police?
But everyone else was fascinated.
The media loved it. They had a new headline.
The internet was buzzing, with forums and message boards dedicated to figuring out who the man behind the mask was.
Gwen was curious too.
Especially since her father was a police captain.
Gwen shook her head. "I'm not interested in Spider-Man, Dad."
George chuckled. "Then yesterday you..."
"That was Mary Jane. She was the one who was curious, not me." Gwen cut him off, then got to the point. She looked up at him, her eyes wide.
"Dad, can I ask you for a favor?"
"..."