Escanor(Marvel)

POV Wilson Fisk

The magnificent city of New York a place of a thousand lights, a thousand desires, and a thousand deaths. A city that draws in millions chasing a dream that may never come true.

Hell's Kitchen was my home. I was born here, raised here, and here the old "me" died when my father sold me for a bag of money. That was the price of family bonds.

Prison made me who I am. And I realized one simple truth: to be on top, you must understand that nothing in this life is eternal. Money, power, connections, and family.

Money? It gives you a sense of omnipotence, turning you into a weak-willed, spineless person. And when you become weak, the world will devour you.

Power? The moment you indulge in it and drown in its allure, you'll be dragged into the abyss.

Connections? They're built on mutual benefit, and once you lose that, you'll find yourself alone.

Family? My father taught me a lesson: family ties are an empty sound. I am attached to nothing.

I strive to take the place that rightfully belongs to me. The world will remember my name. I am Wilson Fisk, known in certain circles as the Kingpin. New York will be mine. No matter what it takes. The mayor's office is within reach. Once I take that seat, the city will truly become mine, and I will reshape it to my will.

I lit a cigar, inhaling the aromatic smoke. The bitter taste filled my throat.

The office doors burst open, and a breathless subordinate rushed in. Seeing my gaze, he swallowed nervously; his hands trembled noticeably.

"Sorry, boss, but the shipment was intercepted," he stammered.

Silence hung in the air, thick as the smog outside the window. I slowly rose from my chair. Each of my steps made him shrink more and more.

"That deal would have secured my path to the mayor's office, and you're telling me we lost it?" I said in a calm, almost lazy tone.

"I'm sorry, boss, but... it was the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. We tried... but he took out our men and stole the cargo," he muttered without daring to meet my eyes. He collapsed to his knees, his forehead hitting the floor with a dull thud.

"Are you telling me Daredevil took the antiques I paid a hundred million dollars for?" My voice remained calm, and it was that calmness that terrified him most. There is no place for emotion in business. Only occasionally do I allow myself anger. And right now, I was brimming with it.

My foot came down on his head with a sharp motion, crushing his skull into a bloody pulp.

I exhaled slowly.

"Now you, blockhead, tell me exactly what happened," I addressed one of my trusted men standing nearby.

"Daredevil somehow found out about the deal and came prepared. He cut the power and then attacked. In the panic, no one could mount proper resistance. We... we don't know where he took the case," the blockhead reported.

"This happened under your watch. You failed me." I flicked the ash from my cigar. "I'm giving you one last chance: find Daredevil. Get me that case. If you don't you're dead."

"Yes, boss!" he bowed and hurried out.

When the door closed behind him, I wiped the blood off my shoe.

Trust no one. These incompetents ruin everything. The deal with Silver-Haired would have opened the doors to power for me. That Old Fool only wanted to extend his miserable life. A fanatic, stuck in his delusions, yet still holding the invisible threads of New York in his hands.

And once again, Daredevil has stood in my way. This time, it's unforgivable.

******************

POV Escanor

I'm here again. Hell's Kitchen. You could say it's become my home.

The story of how I came back deserves a separate tale, but... not now. I don't want to remember. Let's just say I ended up with nothing but a pair of pants and empty pockets. I had to get creative with my words in ways I never had before. Somehow, I managed to get hold of an old hoodie and some boots, then hitchhiked my way back.

But one problem remained. All the money I had was in that briefcase I threw away. Stupid? Yeah. Back then, I was too careless.

And now? There's no one left to take revenge on.

I saw the news about Bolivar Trask's death. The article lacked details, but in one of the photos, his body looked... lifeless. He's dead. And now I don't know if anyone else from that organization is still out there, or if this was the end.

Too many questions.

What should I do next?

Maybe it's a sign. To start over. Leave the past behind. Just try to live.

"Father... Mother... What do you think I should do?" I asked the empty air.

Mom would probably say: live the way you want. And Dad... Dad would probably hope I'd continue his work.

But one thing I know for sure.

If I become Escanor again, I'll paint a target on my back. And it won't matter who it is sooner or later, someone will find a way to use my weakness. Or just shoot me in the back in broad daylight.

For now, all that's known is that I was spotted in Washington. Nothing more.

My sun is just a flicker for now. But who knows when it might blaze again?

My legs carried me to Josie's bar on their own. Once, thanks to my efforts, the place became cleaner, though it was still far from its former coziness. There was still a lot of work ahead.

"Leon?"

A familiar voice made me look up. Josie stepped outside.

She looked tired: sunken face, dark circles under her eyes. And yet... her condition was noticeably better than before. It seemed she'd clawed her way out of depression and found the strength to move forward.

"Yeah, it's me," I nodded. "Had to leave for a couple of days on business."

"I was starting to worry. I didn't know where you were, and your phone was off the whole time..." She sighed heavily but then smiled after a moment. "But I'm glad you're back. Thank you for not abandoning me and helping with the bar. It means a lot to me. Here, take this."

She handed me some money.

"This is for your work. I never paid you, and you've been working from morning till night."

I took the money without arguing.

"Thanks."

I knew how much she hated when people refused her help.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Josie asked, peering at me with slight concern.

"Not yet," I admitted.

"You can stay with me until you find one. Or... until the bar's fully up and running," she offered.

"I gratefully accept your invitation," I said, allowing myself a faint smile.

Not so bad after all, right?

I glanced at the sign above the bar. Nearly burned through, it barely hung in place, but... it still stood.

**************

Hell's Kitchen. One of the alleyways.

A small rat squeaked, twitched nervously, and scurried toward the smell of food. Reaching a trash can, it sniffed it cautiously. Sensing no threat, it dove into the waste.

"KHHAAA!"

A sharp gasp pierced the night silence. The rat froze, then darted into the nearest crack.

Daredevil was coming to his senses. Pain coursed through his body like fire, every cell screaming from exhaustion. Taking a shallow breath, he tried to get up... only to collapse back down.

Pressing his back against the cold brick wall, he gasped for air. Kingpin's hunters gave him no respite. They pursued him relentlessly. It seemed like Kingpin had hired every mercenary in the city and now each of them was hungry for his head.

But he couldn't give up.

He had no right.

If he gave in, Kingpin would only tighten his grip on the city. And then no one would be able to stop him.

Straightening with immense effort, Matt forced himself to move. He had to get home. At least try to recover.

He climbed the stairs, entered his apartment through the window, and collapsed onto the floor, lying there for several seconds, breathing heavily.

Then, summoning what little strength he had left, he slowly began to peel off his torn suit. Every movement brought fresh waves of pain. Bruises, abrasions, cuts... Some wounds were unmistakably from bullets.

Reaching the bathroom, he turned on the cold water and washed the blood away. Ice on his skin. It helped clear his mind a little. When he came back out, his senses immediately latched onto the small case lying on the couch.

Matt moved closer, running his fingers over the ancient stone tablet.

"What's so special about you?.." he muttered.

Kingpin was desperate to get it back. Willing to go to any lengths.

Matt clenched his teeth.

"I need help..." he whispered. "I can't handle this alone. I'll have to ask him..."

There was no other option.

The weight of exhaustion crashed down on him again. His eyes closed on their own.

This time, he didn't fight it.

*********************

POV Escanor

Ding-ding...

That annoying sound again. Where is it coming from?

Sleepily, I reached out and smacked the alarm clock to silence the irritating ringing. A crunch followed. The sound stopped.

I sat up, ran a hand over my face, and headed to the bathroom. Grabbing the door handle, I pulled it toward me...

CRASH.

I froze, then slowly looked down.

The wooden door was no longer on its hinges. Its shattered frame remained in the doorway, while I held the door itself in my hand.

"Is it really..." I muttered, staring at my palm.

Carefully setting the broken door against the wall, I stepped inside and looked in the mirror. The familiar face I hadn't seen in a while stared back at me. Closing my eyes, I felt the fiery power surging within.

Power level: 5000

Strange...

It had only been a week since everything happened, yet I felt it all returning so quickly. Day by day, the energy surged back into me. But I never expected it to happen this fast.

I'd been waiting.

Waiting too long...

To feel that strength in my veins again. To revel in that power.

But now... what do I even need this power for?

Thankfully, it didn't come back while I was still staying at Josie's place. Good thing I got myself a room.

Life was finally getting back on track. The bar was nearly restored. Soon, its doors would open again.

Honestly, I'd even started to enjoy the work.

I was already thinking about opening a place of my own someday.

For now, I let myself enjoy the familiar strength coursing through me before gradually suppressing it. I wouldn't let the world know my name again just yet.

Today's a good day for a training session at the dojo.

Sure, I could easily crush anyone with my raw power now, but combat skills remain crucial in any form. And... Colleen company might help me clear my head.

I quickly got ready and headed out.

Minutes later.

My body felt as light as a feather today. Reflexes, strength everything was at its peak. No matter how I tried to suppress my power, its influence was impossible to fully contain.

It had been so long since I'd felt like this...

Another punch, and the heavy bag snapped off its chain, slamming into the wall with a loud thud. The sound broke Colleen meditation.

She turned to me, blinking in surprise.

"Okay, that's definitely not normal," she said finally. "Either you've juiced yourself with super-soldier serum, or I'm hallucinating..."

Controlling this isn't easy...

Looks like I'll have to relearn how to hold back.

"Sorry," I tried to joke. "Must be the nice weather... lots of energy today."

But no ordinary person could've done that sent a heavy bag flying with one punch.

Colleen narrowed her eyes, suspicious.

"Yeah? Let's find out." A sly smile spread across her lips. "Get into a stance."

I sighed internally. Just don't hurt her...

I accepted her challenge and raised my guard.

Her attack was immediate. A sharp kick but to me, it seemed like slow motion. A slight step back, and her heel grazed past my face by mere millimeters.

Colleen frown deepened.

She followed with a flurry of strikes at my torso, but none connected. She tried to close the distance, something she hadn't done before. To give her a chance, I lowered my guard slightly.

A mistake.

Her fist struck me square in the chest.

A dull crack.

Colleen recoiled instantly. Her face twisted in confusion. She looked down at her hand and flexed her wrist with the other.

I kept my stance, heart sinking. My secret wouldn't last long at this rate.

Crunch.

Her dislocated wrist snapped back into place.

"What are you made of?" she exhaled, giving me a scrutinizing look.

Damn…

Now I was starting to doubt she was just an ordinary human.

"I could ask you the same question," I drawled, watching her closely.

Colleen narrowed her eyes.

"You didn't use to have such a solid body…" She tilted her head as if analyzing something. "And that tattoo on your back it's exactly like Escanor's from the battle in Washington."

She smirked.

"You are him, aren't you?"

I clenched my jaw.

That damn tattoo… Inked in bad times, and now it had betrayed me. Getting it removed wasn't an option. That would only draw more attention.

"No, you're imagining things. Just a coincidence," I chuckled. "You don't actually think a regular guy like me could have that kind of power, do you?"

"I absolutely do. No doubt about it," she said firmly, her voice filled with certainty.

I let out a breath.

"Alright, you got me."

Colleen grinned in satisfaction.

"But not a word to anyone," I added, admitting defeat. "I don't want the extra attention."

She scoffed.

"Relax, I have no reason to expose you. You're my friend."

She studied me thoughtfully.

"Though now I am curious… Why are you living here, in Hell's Kitchen? What happened to you? Why have you changed?"

There was genuine curiosity in her gaze.

With a sigh, I had no choice but to share an utterly unheroic story one of my own foolishness, pain, and loss.

"I'm sorry for making you relive all that…" she said softly after hearing my story.

"It's fine. I've come to terms with it. And I've already gotten some revenge. Everyone who had a hand in it has paid the price," I said.

The sergeant who carried out the order to kill my parents, the one who gave that order, Sedoy, and Bolivar Trask one of the people responsible for it all… But I had a feeling it wasn't over yet.

"Don't lose yourself in revenge," Colleen said calmly, pulling me into a hug.

"Thanks, I'll try," I nodded.

"You know, suddenly cleaning up the dojo for you doesn't seem like enough," she said with a playful smile.

"Then help me out. We'll do it together," I replied.

I could swallow my pride and accept help from someone who had done so much for me. If you push everyone away and care only about your own ego, eventually, you'll have no one left.

Once we finished cleaning, I headed back to the bar. Just a little more work, and we'd be ready to open for business again. I had promised myself I'd help Josie see this through to the end then I'd figure out my next steps. I had no real reason to stay in Hell's Kitchen any longer.

As I stepped inside, I ran my hand over the new tables. A lot of work had gone into this place.

"Leon!" Josie called, emerging from the kitchen.

"So, the grand opening is today?" I asked.

"Yeah, almost everything's ready. Honestly, I wouldn't have managed without your help," she admitted.

"Then let's finish what we started," I said.

We got to work immediately arranging furniture, stocking the bar. The kitchen was already preparing a few appetizers. The routine kept me so busy that I didn't even notice when evening fell. And then, the "OPEN" sign lit up on the door.

At first, the place was empty, but word about the bar's reopening spread like wildfire. Within an hour, people started pouring in. I took my place behind the counter, pouring drinks while Josie handled the orders.

"A pint of lager, please," a voice called out from one of the customers.

I barely turned to him when a memory surged forward.

A man who had appeared when I was just a child. He had been much younger back then, but forgetting him was impossible.

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