By the time Rex Viper reached the site that supposedly needed him the most, the situation had already spiraled completely out of control. What should have been a straightforward firefighting operation had turned into something absurd and surreal, like the entire scene had been hijacked by madness.
The firefighters who had rushed in to control the blaze were no longer fighting fire at all. Instead, they were drenching everything in sight like it was some chaotic water festival, laughing loudly as if they'd forgotten why they were there in the first place. A group of burly men shouted crude jokes, cursed without restraint, and began stripping off their gear—and then their clothes—until what followed crossed straight into something wildly inappropriate.
The entire scene was shocking to witness, and as more clothing hit the ground, the atmosphere became increasingly unhinged and ambiguous. It felt less like an emergency response and more like a deranged performance spiraling out of control.
Several police officers who had just arrived stood frozen, their eyes wide as they tried to process what they were seeing. One of them muttered under his breath, clearly stunned, as if questioning every career decision he'd ever made. No one had signed up for this kind of insanity.
From a nearby building, flashes of camera lights burst repeatedly through the windows, capturing everything.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Rex raised his weapon without hesitation and fired several precise shots, shattering the cameras filming from above. Glass exploded outward as the lenses went dark, cutting off the spectacle from being broadcast any further. Without slowing down, he charged straight into the group of out-of-control firefighters and knocked them unconscious one after another, his movements fast and efficient.
Before anyone could even react to what had just happened, he was already gone.
He didn't have the luxury of staying. There were more situations unfolding across the city, each one worse than the last. According to what he'd heard, somewhere nearby a group of drugged-up men had completely lost control, turning another location into an even more chaotic and disturbing scene.
"David, what the hell is happening at the other sites? Can Daredevil even keep up with this?" Rex growled into his headset as he sprinted through the streets. His tone was sharp with frustration. "Damn it, if I hadn't started those fires, I wouldn't even be dealing with this mess!"
His focus slipped for just a fraction of a second as he vented, and that was all it took.
He rounded a corner and ran straight into a police unit.
Both sides reacted instantly. Hands moved to holsters, tension snapping tight in the air like a drawn wire.
In the distance, flames lit up the skyline while sirens wailed endlessly, turning the city into a battlefield. But here, in this narrow stretch of street, the moonlight felt eerily calm, like the quiet before a storm.
Rex opened his mouth to speak, ready to defuse the situation or at least stall—
"Shoot him!"
The command came without hesitation.
Rex didn't even bother rolling his eyes this time. He dropped low and darted behind a nearby van just as gunfire erupted.
Before he could even catch his breath, another threat revealed itself. From the dark alley ahead, several gun barrels extended into view, all aimed directly at him.
"Seriously?!"
He moved again, barely staying ahead of the barrage. Bullets slammed into the ground behind him, sparks bursting at his heels as he dodged. The air filled with the crackling chaos of gunfire, rounds tearing through space like a storm of steel.
Then his senses flared.
With his enhanced mental state kicking in, a sharp warning surged through his mind.
Danger.
He rolled once, then again, then again—barely evading the impact as heavy sniper rounds struck the ground beside him. Fragments of shattered stone blasted into his face, stinging, but he didn't stop.
Still not safe.
His vision shifted as his compound-eye ability activated, slowing everything around him to a crawl. In that distorted perception, he saw it clearly—trajectories cutting through the air in unnatural arcs.
Not one bullet.
Seven. Maybe eight.
Each one sealing off every possible escape route.
"...A pro."
The realization hit instantly, and his focus sharpened to a razor's edge.
There was no time to think. No time to hesitate.
He lunged forward, angling his body toward the least lethal path, forcing his chest into the line of two incoming rounds.
"Boom!"
A dull impact slammed into him, knocking the air from his lungs.
"Ugh—!"
His body trembled under the force, but he didn't stop. He pushed through it, sprinting the last few steps before diving into a nearby alley.
The moment he broke line of sight, the gunfire shifted, losing its precision.
He leaned against the wall, breathing hard as the immediate pressure eased. Slowly, he reached down and touched his chest, where two scorching points burned through his vest.
The bulletproof layers had held—barely.
If he hadn't worn double protection, that would've been the end of it.
"David!" he snapped into the headset, anger bleeding through his voice. "What the hell is going on? Why is everyone suddenly trying to kill me? I'm completely surrounded! Have they all lost their minds?!"
There was a brief pause before David's voice came through, strained but steady.
"I got hit with a counterattack while monitoring police channels. Just cleared it."
Rex frowned. "And?"
"…Knight, you're in serious trouble."
"What do you mean 'serious trouble'?"
"The NYPD Commissioner himself is mobilizing nearly half the city's force to bring you in."
Rex froze for half a second, disbelief flashing across his face. "You've got to be kidding me. How do they even know it's me? I didn't leave anything behind!"
David let out a dry laugh. "Commissioner George Stacy said there's only one person in New York capable of pulling this off. He'd rather take you down by mistake than risk letting you go."
Rex's jaw tightened. "George Stacy, huh? Fine. He better keep a close eye on his daughter, or I might just pay her a visit."
"The people shooting at you earlier weren't just police," David continued quickly. "A lot of them are mercenaries and street thugs chasing the bounty on your head. There are more of them than cops right now."
Rex exhaled sharply. "Figures."
"But that's not the worst part," David added. "There's a specialized hunting team that just entered the field. They're the ones using sniper rifles. The ones who hit you earlier."
Rex's eyes narrowed. "Who are they?"
"Give me a second… got it. Maya Lopez. Codename Echo. Adopted daughter of Wilson Fisk."
David chuckled under his breath. "Told you—going up against a crime boss over a woman never ends well."
Rex rolled his eyes. "Yeah? Just wait. I'll make Fisk regret everything through Vanessa."
"…There's more," David said after a beat. "There's a guy with a bow tracking you too. He had multiple chances to shoot but didn't take them."
Rex frowned. "Hawkeye?"
"Most likely. And he's not alone. Agent Phil Coulson is with him. They don't look friendly."
Rex let out a low whistle. "Wow. Everybody showed up for the party."
"Knight… maybe we should cut ties," David said hesitantly. "You've got too many enemies now."
"What are you scared of?" Rex shot back. "You're already supposed to be dead."
"I faked my death!" David snapped. "Do you want me to make it real?! Do you even understand what you're dealing with? You're one man against an army!"
For the first time, Rex hesitated.
He had only wanted to complete the system mission. Maybe do something useful along the way.
So how the hell had it turned into this?
"God…" he muttered under his breath. "I'm supposed to be your guy here. You don't mess with your own like this."
Gunfire continued to echo outside the alley, relentless and unforgiving. Bullets came from both ends now, sealing him in.
If he stepped out, he'd be shredded instantly.
And somewhere in the dark, at least two expert shooters were still waiting.
He clenched his fists.
No way out?
No. That wasn't happening.
"David," he said suddenly, his tone sharpening with intent. "Call the police anonymously. Tell them all six explosion sites are drug operations tied to Kingpin. Make them shift resources to rescue."
He tilted his head, catching the distant hum of a helicopter overhead. He'd seen it earlier—it belonged to a news crew.
"And tip off the media. Send everything you've got on Fisk—every crime, every scrap of evidence. Push the narrative that tonight's chaos is his doing. Say he's trying to flood the city with drugs."
David went quiet.
Rex continued, voice steady. "Throw in dirt on other gangs too. Mix truth with speculation. Make it loud. Make it impossible to ignore."
"…Are you sure?" David asked carefully. "It'll cause chaos, sure. But it won't be enough to bring them down. If they slip through this, they'll go deeper underground."
Rex chuckled, low and cold. "You're right."
Then his voice hardened.
"But the law needs proof. I don't."
"If they escape justice this time…" he said quietly, "I'll handle it myself."
"…Got it."
Outside, movement shifted again.
Figures approached the alley entrance, each holding something round in their hands.
Grenades.
Even the police and hired guns paused firing, their focus aligning on one goal.
Kill him.
But the moment those attackers stepped into view—
Shots rang out.
Precise. Clean.
Bullets tore through their foreheads before they could even react. The grenades slipped from their hands, clattering to the ground before erupting in a violent blast seconds later.
Rex stayed crouched in the corner, teeth clenched as heat and shockwaves rolled past him.
"...That their move now?"
Before he could finish the thought, something changed.
Through the wall beside him, a faint, distorted silhouette appeared—like a shadow phasing through solid matter. The figure carried something heavy on its shoulder.
Rex's eyes widened.
A split second later—
A blazing red beam tore through the space.
"BOOM!"
The wall in front of him exploded outward, bricks and debris blasting into the air.
....
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