Hell's Kitchen.
A black and red figure moved through the buildings, as light as a falling feather, silently blending into the city's eternal Shadow.
Elektra didn't go looking for Alexandra.
William Rodriguez's plan was good, rational, like a perfect risk assessment report.
But rationality has never been Elektra's guiding principle. The collar around her neck was undone, and the long-suppressed dark power known as black sky was awakening in her veins, like a hungry Beast, greedily breathing the air of freedom.
She had only one goal.
Matt Murdock.
That man was an indelible mark in her life, her only light when she was immersed in darkness, and the obsession that pushed her into the abyss.
She understood The Hand, and she understood Matt even more.
She knew where he would be.
At the top of a Gothic church, the place where he had struggled, repented, and listened to the city's sins countless times.
Elektra landed in the shadow of the cross like a ghost, without making a sound.
She saw him.
A figure stood silently beside a gargoyle, like a statue merged with the night.
But it wasn't the familiar dark red.
Instead, it was a pure black that seemed to devour all light.
A brand new battle suit, with more ferocious lines, ominous spikes on the shoulder pads and gauntlets, and a strange, non-metallic, non-stone luster under the faint moonlight. The battle suit seemed alive, rising and falling with his breath.
"You've changed your style, Matt."
Elektra stepped out of the shadows, her voice carrying a complex emotion she didn't even realize.
The black figure slowly turned around.
"Elektra."
Matt's voice came, calm and deep, but lacking all its usual warmth. It was the indifference of a deity looking down at his followers, as if everything in the world had lost its color in his eyes.
"I thought you were dead."
"I thought you were dead too." Elektra walked to face him, maintaining a distance from which she could launch an attack at any moment. "It seems we both made it through."
"I have been reborn," Matt said. "You too. The power of black sky has made you stronger."
He could sense it.
The dark and vast power within Elektra was like a sleeping giant, resonating with her.
"So, you're the leader of The Hand now?" Elektra crossed her arms, her tone full of sarcasm. "The guardian demon of Hell's Kitchen has become the king of ninjas? That's a truly cold joke."
"This is no joke." Matt's tone remained calm. "This is order. Hell's Kitchen needs true order, not endless chaos and violence. I am giving it peace."
"By The Hand's methods?" Elektra laughed, her laughter particularly harsh in the silent night. "With slaughter, with fear, with those resurrected walking dead?"
"Necessary sacrifices are for ultimate peace." Matt spread his arms, as if embracing the entire sinful city. "Elektra, join me. We were once the best partners. Together, we can end all evil here and establish an eternal kingdom."
Elektra gazed at him.
The man before her was both familiar and strange.
His heartbeat, his breathing, every subtle movement of his, were still Matt Murdock.
But his soul had become something else.
"Have you killed anyone, Matt?"
Elektra asked suddenly.
This question, like an ice-cold dagger, sharply pierced the feigned calm between them.
Matt was silent.
The wind on the church roof rustled the hem of his black battle suit.
After a long time.
He slowly spoke, his voice carrying a finality that ended everything.
"I personally ended Bullseye's life."
Elektra's pupils contracted sharply.
Bullseye.
The madman who killed her with her own weapon.
Matt... killed him?
The man who clung to his ridiculous bottom line, who would rather be bruised and battered than take the life of any criminal... actually killed someone?
An unspeakable emotion exploded in her chest. Was it glee? Was it sorrow? Or was it the absurdity of watching her most cherished thing being shattered by his own hand?
Just as Elektra's mind was reeling, a red and blue figure swooped down from the sky, its web sticking to another distant stone statue, and after a graceful flip, it landed between the two of them!
"Matt!"
Spider-Man adopted a fighting stance, his voice full of urgency and pain.
"Stop it! Look at what you've become!"
Matt didn't even glance at him; his attention remained on Elektra.
"Peter, you shouldn't be here."
"If I don't come, should I just watch you continue to make mistakes?" Spider-Man's voice trembled slightly. He pointed to the shadows of the distant street. "You're ordering those ninjas to attack those... even if they are criminals, they don't deserve to die! You have no right to judge them!"
"I do."
Matt's voice was firm and resolute.
He finally turned to Spider-Man, his eyes, covered by the black mask, seeming to radiate endless authority.
"Now, I do."
Before he finished speaking, his figure instantly vanished from its spot!
The Spider-Sense screamed frantically in Peter Parker's mind! The intensity of the alarm was several times stronger than when he faced the Green Goblin!
He instinctively rolled backward, using all his strength, but it was still too late.
A black Iron Fist, carrying terrifying power far exceeding anything before, seemed to break the sound barrier, slamming heavily into his chest!
"Pfft!"
Peter felt as if he had been hit head-on by a dump truck traveling at full speed; a grating crunch of breaking bones echoed from his chest. He flew backward like a broken kite, crashing hard into the church's bell tower, the solid stone wall instantly covered with spiderweb-like cracks.
He was no match at all.
Absolutely no match... Peter Parker's thoughts, amidst the intense pain, drifted back to a few weeks ago.
Back then, everything was still fine.
Thanks to the intelligence provided by Mr. William Rodriguez, he and Daredevil finally found the key evidence to bring down Kingpin.
That period was when they cooperated most seamlessly.
By day, he was Spider-Man, tracking Kingpin's financial flows among the city's skyscrapers, like a true private detective.
At night, Daredevil would appear beside him, using Hell's Kitchen's darkest intelligence network to complete the last piece of the puzzle for him. One in the light, one in the dark, they were like two perfectly coordinated blades, precisely cutting through Kingpin's vast criminal empire.
The dawn of victory seemed to be just ahead.
But then, one day, suddenly.
Daredevil didn't show up.
Peter didn't think much of it at the time.
He thought Matt was just tied up with some case in Hell's Kitchen. That blind lawyer was always busy, busy fighting cases for the poor, and busy delivering justice at night.
He continued to pursue the clues alone.
But since that day, Daredevil had never appeared again.
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