"Block off the entire zone. I want nothing to leave. Put the drones in the air," Special Agent Knight barked. The order cut through the tactical chatter like a guillotine. "I don't care about red tape. I'll take the blame if it all comes crashing down."
Red Hood wouldn't escape. So be it if she had to turn Hell's Kitchen into a war zone to stop him.
In car three of the convoy, Detective Jessica Jones gripped the steering wheel tighter than she should've. Her knuckles whitened. She hated being the driver.
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder—firm, grounding.
"Shouldn't we use the sirens?" Luke Cage asked from the backseat.
Jessica's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. That half-second lapse cost her.
The light was red.
Tires screeched. Horns blared. She yanked the wheel hard, dodging a white SUV by inches.
"Shit," she muttered, heart hammering.
Misty had done this on purpose. Knight was splitting up Northstrider's people, sowing distrust. Jessica had been sidelined into playing chauffeur while the city boiled over with vampires and secrets.
____________________________________
If anyone knew more than Sandy Carmichael by now, it was this Chunin.
Cole gave the man a moment, a breath, a reprieve before judgment. Jeremy wouldn't have. Mercy unraveled him. But Cole wasn't sure what he'd become if he kept pulling that thread.
The pain of his lineage burned deeper than any blade. Rage smoldered in his eyes.
He tapped into the Chunin's anger—amplified it, twisted it.
Hiryu Nagami's eyes locked with his. The Muramasa blade in his hand hissed with whispers. He gestured for backup, only to stop himself.
Tradition forbade it. The Candidate must stand alone.
"You're the spawn of that woman," the Chunin spat.
His voice dripped contempt, but Cole was already dissecting the words. His old instincts—and something newer—went to work. Jeremy's legacy whispered through him.
"She was part of the Hand, wasn't she?" Cole asked, voice low, haunting. The sound chilled even the loyal shinobi watching from the dark.
"The mongrel learns," the Chunin growled. "Your mother was a bitch of ours. A traitor—"
He didn't finish.
Blood exploded from his mouth.
The Muramasa blade rang, clashing with something unseen—a brutal strike too fast to follow. The Chunin flew backward, armor sizzling and dissolving mid-air.
How? he thought, stunned. The wielder of Muramasa wasn't supposed to be touchable.
Another blade came—spinning like a guided missile. Nth-Promethium. It carved into him, bypassing the armor and slicing clean through flesh.
"Tell me her name," Cole said coldly, his katana hovering like a guillotine.
The Chunin surged forward in defiance—but froze mid-lunge. Something unseen held him.
Cole's hand was outstretched, trembling with fury, but steady with restraint. A faint shimmer of energy bound the ninja in place.
"Name," he growled. His fingers sparked with electricity, rage humming in the air.
The Red Lantern Ring's aura ignited around him, violent and visceral. He could tear the man apart. But he needed answers.
With a roar, Cole flung the ninja through a stone wall. Dust and debris filled the corridor. His glare turned on the remaining shinobi.
They all looked away.
[System Notice] — Force Sensitive Unlocked
The Force is an energy field that binds all living things. This is not a mutant ability.
Force Powers Gained: Push. Hold.
Cole felt it again—growth through conflict. Steel forged in fire.
The rubble exploded outward. A new figure rose: a samurai clad in obsidian-black armor.
"Is that it, mongrel?" the man sneered. "Is that all you've got?"
He dashed forward—fast, brutal.
Behind Cole, his shadow twisted. Wings unfurled—batlike, spectral. A spirit took shape above the battlefield. It wasn't fighting. But it was watching and feeding him.
"Regardless," the samurai said, voice overlapping with a deeper, darker tone, "my victory is inevitable. Let me see how you fare against the full might of the blackened blade."
The enemy's sword descended—but Cole caught his wrist mid-swing and answered with a devastating punch.
The samurai flew backward, embedded into stone, then kicked clean through it, out into the freezing dark.
The rage didn't fade. It sharpened. Evolved. Only the Mandate kept it in check.
[Integral Mission Update]
Jeremy's Legacy
Red Hood and the Hand are now irreconcilable enemies.
You will seek them out wherever they hide. There is no turning back.
The Hand will now hunt you and your allies.
Memories tied to your mother's betrayal have begun to surface.
Reward(s): Hidden
York Enterprises Expansion Unlocked
A howl split the night.
Cole smiled.
His allies were already knee-deep in their wars. Astrid. Lance. Hammerhead. All of them are fighting the long fight.
He centered himself.
"If I ever want my birthright… the Hand must be dismantled."
A name echoed in his thoughts: Black Sky.
Five years ago—Nobu Yoshioka. Fisk. His father had stopped them. But not all of them.
Nagami rose—bloodied, cracked, but defiant.
"Fight me," he demanded. "No tricks. Her technique versus mine."
Cole's eyes narrowed.
"Tell me her name. I'll give you that fight."
A long silence.
"Yuki Amatsu."
The name stabbed at something buried. It didn't make sense—but it meant something. Too familiar. Too close.
He couldn't place it—but it clawed at the back of his mind.
Cole raised his hand. The hammer dropped into it—Steel's hammer. The one weapon that felt right in his grip.
The Chunin flinched.
"You never said I couldn't use other weapons."
The short handle twisted, extending with a hiss of energy.
Cole hurled it.
It struck Nagami in the chest with a thunderous crack, folding him in half. Before the ninja could recover, Cole advanced, spinning the hammer, slamming it into his mask, shattering the faceplate.
Nagami collapsed to one knee.