The New York City skyline was a jagged tapestry of glass and neon, a sprawling concrete beast that never truly slept. High above the gridlocked streets and the rhythmic thrum of the subway, Danny darted through the frigid night air. The wind whipped past his ears, a piercing whistle that would have been deafening if not for the dampening tech in his cowl. A manic grin was plastered across his face, the kind of expression that usually preceded a very expensive mistake or a legendary success.
"Artemis, give me a read on the stabilizers," Danny said, his voice slightly muffled by the mask. "I feel like I'm dragging a bit on the banking turns."
In his vision, a sophisticated Heads-Up Display (HUD) flickered to life. Transparent cerulean schematics overlaid the dark buildings below, highlighting wind speed, altitude, and his own physical vitals.
["Current velocity is Mach 0.8 and climbing,"] Artemis's voice rang in his ear, crisp and slightly judgmental. ["The 'drag' you're feeling is likely the fact that you're pushing this prototype suit thirty percent beyond its recommended tolerances. Also, your heart rate is elevated. Are we having fun, or are we having a stroke?"]
"A bit of both, Arty," Danny chuckled, tucking his arms close to his sides and putting himself into a steep dive. The world blurred into a streak of lights. He pulled up at the last possible second, the G-force pressing him into his suit as he leveled out just above the rooftops of Hell's Kitchen. He landed on the edge of a weathered brick tenement, his boots making a soft thud against the stone.
He sat there for a moment, legs dangling over the ledge, watching the city breathe. It was beautiful from up here, but Danny was soon bored. He needed some action. "Artemis," he murmured. "I'm bored. And when I'm bored, I get into trouble. Scan the local frequencies. Tell me someone's doing something they shouldn't be."
["Scanning… accessing NYPD precinct feeds… monitoring social media distress keywords… crossing-referencing with local CCTV,"] Artemis replied. A second later, a red icon pulsed on his HUD, roughly three blocks away. ["I have a match. Audio sensors picked up a scream in a nearby alley. Thermal imaging shows five individuals. One is stationary on the ground. The other four are… well, they're being assholes, Boss."]
Danny's expression went flat. He tapped a button on his wrist, and a small digital window opened in his vision, displaying a grainy, high-angle feed from a nearby security camera. He watched as a group of men cornered a young girl against a dumpster. One of them had a hand over her mouth; another was already reaching for her jacket.
"Really?" Danny sighed, standing up and stretching his shoulders. "A girl being harassed in a dark alley by a bunch of low-lives? It's so fucking cliché. Do these guys not watch movies? This is how you get your ass kicked by a masked vigilante 101."
["The statistics for street-level crime rarely account for narrative tropes, Boss,"] Artemis noted dryly. ["Shall I call the police?"]
"By the time they finish their coffee and navigate the traffic, it'll be too late," Danny said. His body flickered, the black and white of his suit shimmering like a heat haze. "I'll handle it."
Danny simply stepped off the ledge and vanished into the air.
—-------
The alley smelled of stagnant rainwater, piss, and old garbage. It was a dead end, shadowed by the towering walls of a warehouse that had seen better days.
"Shut up, bitch! Just make this easy!" one of the men hissed. He was a greasy-looking fucker in a stained tank top, his knuckles white as he pinned the girl's wrists against the cold brick.
The girl was terrified, her eyes wide and rimmed with tears that tracked through the grime on her face. She tried to scream, but the hand over her mouth muffled it into a desperate, pathetic whimper. The other three men stood around, laughing, their eyes glassy and vacant—the look of men who had spent the evening snorting something they bought off a corner.
"Check her pockets first, man," another goon said, flicking a butterfly knife open and shut with practiced ease. "Maybe she's got some cash we can hawk. Then we can have our fun."
"Ahem, ahem"
The sound was sharp, deliberate, and entirely out of place in the grimy alleyway.
The four men froze. They spun around, blinking into the darkness. Standing near the mouth of the alley was a figure that looked like it had stepped out of a comic panel. He was draped in a sleek, matte-black bodysuit that seemed to swallow the light, accented by sharp, glowing white stripes that traced the musculature of his frame. A full-face mask hid his features, leaving only two glowing white lenses for eyes.
Danny had his arms crossed over his chest, leaning casually against a dumpster. "You know," he said, "I was having a really nice night. Enjoying the view, thinking about getting a burger. And then I see you four absolute shit-stains ruining the vibe."
The leader—the one pinning the girl—let go of her and turned around, his face twisting into a sneer. "Who the fuck are you? Some kind of Power Ranger wanna be?"
"I'm a disappointed citizen," Danny replied, shaking his head and clicking his tongue like a tired parent. "And honestly? Your technique is terrible. The pinning, the whispering… It's amateur hour. If you're going to be a criminal, at least have some fucking class."
"Kill this motherfucker!" the leader barked.
The guy with the butterfly knife didn't hesitate. He lunged forward with a snarl, swinging a heavy hook at Danny's jaw. Danny didn't move. He didn't even uncross his arms.
The punch connected—or rather, it should have. Instead, the man's fist passed straight through Danny's head as if he were made of smoke. The momentum sent the goon stumbling forward, nearly tripping over his own feet.
"Huh?" the man gasped, spinning around. "What the fuck?"
"Whoops," Danny said, his tone dripping with fake concern. "You missed. Must be all that cheap speed you've been snorting. Your depth perception is shot, buddy. Try again. I'll stand still this time, pinky promise."
Infuriated, the man lunged again, this time trying to tackle Danny. Once more, he passed right through the black-clad figure, slamming face-first into the brick wall behind him with a sickening thud.
"God, that looked like it hurt," Danny remarked. "Arty, are you recording this? This is gold."
["Recording in 4K, Boss. The slapstick value is high."]
Two other goons pulled out rusted blades. "What the fuck! Stop playing tricks with us, asshole!" one of them yelled, charging forward.
Danny's playfulness vanished. In a blur of movement, he caught that man's wrist and squeezed. The sound of bone snapping echoed in the narrow alley like a dry twig breaking.
"AGHH! MY ARM! HE BROKE MY FUCKING ARM!" the man shrieked, collapsing to his knees, his hand hanging at a grotesque, impossible angle.
"So fragile," Danny muttered, his voice cold.
The second man swung a pipe, but Danny phased his arm through the weapon, grabbed the man's throat, and delivered a punch to his gut that lifted him three feet off the ground. The goon flew backward, crashing into a pile of wooden pallets at the end of the alley and went silent.
The first guy, the one who tried to hit Danny first, looked at his fallen friends and then at Danny. He hesitated, his knees shaking. Then, in a moment of sheer, drug-fueled stupidity, he tried to kick Danny in the ribs.
Danny caught the leg and looked the man dead in the eye. "Bad choice."
He delivered a swift, brutal kick directly into the man's groin. The sound was… definitive. The goon's eyes bulged, his face turned a shade of purple usually reserved for eggplants, and he crumpled into a fetal position, making high-pitched wheezing noises.
"Congratulations," Danny said. "You're now officially maidenless. Hope it was worth it."
Finally, he looked at the leader. The man had grabbed the girl again, pulling her up and pressing the edge of a jagged knife against her throat. He was shaking, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "S-stay back! I'll kill her! I swear to God, I'll slit her fucking throat!"
Danny stopped. His entire aura shifted. The air in the alley seemed to drop ten degrees, and a faint green aura began to bleed from the white stripes on his suit. "You really want to go there?" he asked, his voice now a low, resonant vibration that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
"I mean it! Get out of here or she dies!"
Danny slowly raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay. Easy there, tough guy. You've got the knife. You're the boss."
He pointed a single finger at the man's forehead.
"What the fuck are you doing?" the leader stammered.
"Focusing," Danny said.
A beam of emerald-green energy erupted from Danny's fingertip. The beam hit the man square in the center of his forehead with the force of a professional boxer's jab. It didn't burn through his skull—Danny had spent days practicing his output—but the kinetic impact was enough to snap the man's head back and send him flying five feet into the air. He hit the dumpster with a loud clang and slid to the ground, unconscious before he even landed.
The girl fell to her knees, sobbing. Her blouse was torn, and her hair was a mess of tangles and dirt. She looked up at Danny, her eyes filled with absolute terror.
Danny's posture softened immediately. The green glow faded, and he approached her slowly, hands visible. "Hey," he said softly, his voice was much kinder now. "It's okay. They're gone. You're safe now."
As he got closer, he realized she couldn't have been older than sixteen. A kid. Just like him. A wave of white-hot disgust for the men on the ground washed over him. He wanted to go back and break a few more bones, but he forced himself to stay calm.
"Don't touch me!" she gasped, scrambling backward.
"I won't," Danny promised, stopping a few feet away. He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a small, metallic disc. He pressed it, and a warm, thermal blanket unfolded. He gently tossed it toward her. "Put that on. It'll help with the shock."
She hesitated, then grabbed the blanket, wrapping it tightly around herself. Her shaking began to subside. "Who… who are you?"
"Just someone who hates bullies," Danny said. He looked over his shoulder. "Artemis, did you scrub the feeds?"
["CCTV within a two-block radius has been looped. Any digital footprint of your arrival has been erased,"] the AI replied. ["I have also placed an anonymous 911 call from a burner relay. Response time is estimated at four minutes. I suggest we depart."]
"Right." Danny looked back at the girl. "The police are coming. Stay here, okay? They'll get you home."
Before she could say another word, Danny flickered and disappeared.
—-----------
The flight back to his house was different. The "hero high" was real—a buzzing sensation in his chest that felt better than any upgrade. He soared through the clouds, doing barrel rolls just for the hell of it.
Is this what those heroes from the comics feel when they save a life? he wondered. Damn that feels awesome.
["Boss, your adrenaline levels are still extremely high,"] Artemis noted as he approached his balcony. ["I would recommend a cool-down period before attempting to sleep. Also, your suit sustained a minor scuff on the left gauntlet from when you punched that individual into the pallets."]
"He was wearing a cheap watch," Danny grumbled, phasing through the glass door of his room. "Remind me to add more reinforced plating to the forearms."
He stripped off the suit, feeling the cool air of the room hit his skin. He felt energized, yet exhausted in a way that made his bones ache. After a long, scalding shower to wash the smell of the alleyway off him, he sat at his desk, towel draped around his neck.
"Arty, pull up some new suit designs please," Danny commanded.
A holographic interface bloomed over his desk. "I want better HUD integration. If I'm going to be doing this, I need real-time facial recognition and a deeper connection to the city's infrastructure."
["Understood. And what of the 'hero' aspirations?"] Artemis asked. ["Are we making this a regular occurrence?"]
Danny leaned back in his chair, looking out at the city lights. He cracked his knuckles, a determined look in his eyes. "Someone has to look out for the little guy. And I'm pretty sure I'm the only one in this city who can walk through walls. So yeah, Arty. It's going to be a regular occurance."
"Also, get me info on every crime report in the city. High-level stuff, low-level stuff, I don't care. If someone's being a prick, I want to know about it."
["Very well, Boss. Commencing deep-web data mining. Welcome to the neighborhood."]
Danny smiled, closed his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he finally knew exactly what he was supposed to be doing.