Escanor(Marvel)

"One glass of lager, please," came the voice of one of the customers.

The image surfaced in my mind, like puzzle pieces suddenly clicking into place. The glass I held in my hand cracked along the rim. How could I have forgotten him? It was a long time ago… He used to come to my home, running some tests. And only now did I realize: even back then, they knew I was a mutant I had just been living in an illusion of safety.

And now he's here again. A coincidence? Or a cruel joke of fate?

I glanced down at the cracked glass in my hand, then at the man sitting before me. The same eyes, the same face I remembered from back then. I placed the glass behind the counter, grabbed another one, filled it with beer, and set it in front of him.

"Decided to stop by for a drink? Haven't seen you here before," I said, meeting his gaze.

"Yeah. Heard the bar reopened. A lot of people have told me about this place. It really does have a nice atmosphere," he replied.

His name… What was it again? Right. Phil Coulson. But was that his real name?

"I see. So, you're not local," I said evenly, keeping my voice steady.

"That's right. Came to New York for work," Coulson answered.

"Mind sharing what kind of work?" I asked.

"I'm just a regular office worker. Filling out forms, filing reports. Just a short business trip to a local branch," he said.

"Well, I hope you enjoy your time here," I replied.

Maybe it was just a coincidence. But my gut told me otherwise. He knew who I was. And he wasn't here by chance.

If he knew… why this small talk? Where was the strike team? Or had he really just wandered in by accident? But if he didn't know... Should I act first? I had no clue who he worked for or what his real motives were. Attacking him blindly?

Time passed. He sipped his beer slowly, as if savoring it. Three pints total not much for a regular, but enough for someone who rarely drank. Yet he didn't seem the least bit tipsy. As if he simply didn't care.

For a second, I even wondered had I actually poured him beer?

He spoke to no one, just sat there, occasionally glancing at the TV.

By the bar's policy, we usually asked customers to leave before closing time. And it seemed he was genuinely waiting for the place to clear out.

"Would you like anything else?" Josie asked Coulson.

"Yeah, I think I'll have one more for the road," Coulson replied.

"Leon, take care of the customer. I'm going to get some rest," said Josie.

"Sure," I replied.

Josie headed to her office, but I didn't reach for the tap. Instead, I locked eyes with Coulson.

"So... why are you really here?"

"A strange question. But you've already asked I'm here for work," he replied calmly.

"Cut the spy games. I remember your face perfectly, and I know you're not here by accident. Speak, while I'm still in a good mood. If you had anything to do with my parents' deaths, you won't leave here alive," I said, my voice cold.

Though, truth be told, I doubted I could do much even if I tried. The night was at its peak. He had chosen the perfect time when I was drained and had no strength left. If I had my energy, I would've thrown him out already. But now? Running wasn't an option.

"So... should I call you Escanor? Or Leon?" Coulson asked.

"Leon. Here, I'm Leon," I replied firmly.

Coulson gave a small nod, took his final sip, and set the glass down on the counter.

"Leon, I have a proposition for you. How do you feel about working for S.H.I.E.L.D.?" he asked.

So, he was with S.H.I.E.L.D.

I couldn't fully hide the tension, but I did my best to keep my composure.

"No. I'm done with all these secret organizations," I said.

"I understand. You've been through a lot. But S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't just another secret organization. We safeguard the entire world. And people like you we need them," Coulson replied calmly.

"For what exactly?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"There's a special initiative The Avengers. A team of individuals with extraordinary abilities, formed to handle threats anywhere on the planet. You would be a perfect fit. Your powers alone could make many enemies surrender without a fight," Coulson explained.

"You weren't there when I needed help the most. So why should I help you now? I refuse. And if I see any of your agents near me, nothing will stop me from wiping them out," I said coldly.

"I get it. But perhaps you shouldn't be so quick to burn bridges? Some people… might not take it well," he said, pulling a business card from his pocket and placing it on the bar counter. "Here's my card. Call this number it's a secure line. You'll reach me directly if you change your mind or ever need help. All I ask in return… are your skills."

Coulson rose from his seat, lingered for a moment, and gave a small nod.

"Thanks for the beer. I can tell you put your heart into bringing this place back to life. Just… think about my offer."

"Will you be watching me?" I asked.

"No. That, I can promise you," Coulson replied, pausing by the door. "I came here alone. No one knows why I'm here. We understand your caution… and your vulnerability."

With that, he stepped out of the bar.

I looked at the business card. My first instinct was to toss it. But something inside told me to keep it. For now.

The bar was up and running again, and I helped Josie get everything back in order. Life as usual, as if nothing had happened? Hardly. The last few weeks had been too chaotic my head was spinning from it all. I needed time. Time to think and make a decision with a clear mind.

Should I trust Philip Coulson? Or should I disappear? Again. Slip back into the shadows and forget all of this.

To hell with fear. I'd lived with it long enough. It was time to stop running.

Finishing up the closing routine, I locked the bar and headed home.

A good night's sleep would bring clarity.

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

Hell's Kitchen never slept.

TRR-TRR-TRR!

A burst of automatic gunfire ripped through the night. Shell casings clattered against the pavement, a metallic rain beneath the roaring blaze of bullets shredding the building ahead. Only sporadic return fire crackled from a few windows brief, desperate bursts, few and far between.

Daredevil was cornered. He could do nothing but take cover behind crumbling walls.

"When you came to me asking for help, I was surprised," roared The Punisher through the chaos. "But you know… I'd have loved to tell you no. Hell, I'd have put a bullet right between your eyes… for leading a damn army of mercs straight to us."

His face was covered in wounds. His only weapon a single pistol with a couple of spare magazines. The rest of his gear was already spent. They had been driven into the building, with no way out.

"I didn't know that relic was this important to them," Daredevil said grimly. The overwhelming noise was distorting his senses.

"We're gonna die over some trinket? Tell me you've got a plan," The Punisher snapped coldly.

"I'm sorry…" Daredevil whispered. "I made a mistake. You shouldn't have to die because of my stupidity."

"No time for that crap! We're getting out of here alive." The Punisher cut him off sharply. "We push deeper inside. I'll draw their attention, you take them out while I cover you. And don't start with that moral high-ground nonsense about not killing. It's us or them."

"Let's move," Daredevil said firmly, making his decision.

"Then let's work." The Punisher nodded.

He slipped further into the room, away from the windows, as they began preparing their ambush inside the building.

Outside, the gunfire had stopped. The mercenaries were talking amongst themselves, eyeing the entrance warily.

"Are they dead?" one of them asked.

"We're going in," ordered Hammerhead.

His boss was breathing down his neck. Either he brought back Daredevil's head to cool off some of Kingpin's rage… or his own head would end up on the chopping block.

[image]

The mercenaries moved cautiously through the building, checking every corner, peering into the dark corridors. Two of them led the way until a soft click echoed beneath their boots.

They looked down. A tripwire.

"Shit!" one of them cursed but it was already too late.

An explosion ripped through the hallway, tearing them apart.

The Punisher's traps went off one by one, shredding their ranks. The survivors barely had time to regroup before Daredevil crashed into them like a force of nature, knocking them down and tearing through them in close combat. The Punisher followed, methodically gunning down enemies and scavenging weapons from the fallen.

They moved as one, as if they'd fought side by side for years. The mercenaries' numbers dwindled. Until they came face to face with Hammerhead.

Hammerhead fired several shots, but the bullets lodged harmlessly in Daredevil's suit. Realizing his gun was useless, he charged forward for hand-to-hand combat.

Daredevil struck first, aiming for the head but instead of the familiar thud of flesh, there was the sharp clang of metal. A split second later, his opponent's fist crashed into his face, sending him staggering backward.

"You're dead, you parasite," Hammerhead growled, raining down blow after brutal blow.

Daredevil quickly understood headshots were pointless. He shifted his focus to the body, driving his punches into the torso. But Hammerhead didn't flinch. He kept coming, his hits devastatingly heavy and ruthlessly precise, each one driving the breath from Daredevil's lungs.

The fight turned against him. Daredevil's defenses slipped, and more punches found their mark. A crushing strike to his ribs sent him crashing to the floor, the impact knocking the wind from his chest.

Hammerhead seized him by the throat, fingers tightening in a deadly vice.

"Tell me where the tablet is," he snarled, voice thick with venom, "or die choking on your own failure!"

The world started to fade. Darkness crept into Daredevil's vision.

BANG!

Hammerhead collapsed to the ground, motionless.

"You were losing ground," The Punisher said flatly, lowering his smoking gun. His voice was tight with exhaustion, his free hand pressed against his side. Blood seeped through his jacket some rounds had found him. He trudged forward and offered Daredevil a hand, pulling him up.

"Thanks," Daredevil rasped, coughing as he sucked in a breath, his vision clearing.

"What's next?" The Punisher asked, his voice edged with fatigue. "You wanna keep playing whack-a-mole with these mercs, or you got a plan?"

"I… don't know," Daredevil admitted, still catching his breath. "But we need to find out what makes that tablet worth dying for. I know someone who might help an archaeologist. Works at the Hell's Kitchen Museum. We find her. Tomorrow."

The Punisher nodded once. "Then we move."

As their footsteps faded down the hallway, the impossible happened.

Hammerhead twitched.

Then, with a groan of metal and sinew, he pushed himself up to his full, towering height. Reaching behind his head, he dug his fingers into the back of his skull and pulled out the crumpled bullet. With a flick, he tossed it aside.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a phone.

"Boss," he growled into the receiver, his voice low and cold. "I know where they're going. And where the tablet will be."

He stepped over the bodies of his fallen men without a glance. The metallic stink of blood filled the air, but his mind was elsewhere on the voice at the other end of the line. Kingpin.

A voice that promised him one thing.

Failure meant death.

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

POV Escanor

The sun… How long has it been since I last felt its warmth permeating every cell of my body? It's been two days, and I still can't get used to having my strength back. Lying there for a long time, lost in anxious thoughts about the future, I reflected on everything.

I want to live a normal life, far from all these secrets, organizations, and the darkness that inevitably surrounds them. But I understand I no longer have that choice. Too much power means too much responsibility.

Could I really stand aside when a danger so great arises that no one but me can stop it? Should I not show those who dare to cross the line what consequences their choices will bring?

If the world needs me I will come. In this madness, S.H.I.E.L.D. might be useful, but they can't be trusted either.

Return to the X-Men? Maybe once, I wanted that. But not now. For now, I'll be on my own.

I was about to head to the dojo for training and had just stepped out of my house when I noticed a familiar van. Though it had been repainted, a couple of bullet holes were still visible.

The Punisher is here?

Approaching the van, I opened the door and stepped inside. I immediately noticed him sitting there.

"How did you find me?" I asked.

"It wasn't hard," he replied calmly. "I'll get straight to the point I need your help. I saw the… impressive display you put on recently. I don't know why you never used that kind of power before, but that's none of my business."

He knew. Or at least, he had put the pieces together. It wasn't hard to figure out who I was, considering a few obvious facts.

"I can help," I said, fixing my gaze on him.

"Kingpin is after some trinket. Daredevil managed to intercept it, but we have no idea what it is or why Fisk wants it. To find out, we need to visit an archaeologist. Problem is, everyone knows my face, and Daredevil is barely standing, let alone jumping across rooftops. I've got no one else to ask but you. You're the only one strong enough to handle whatever consequences might come our way."

The Punisher paused before continuing.

"Daredevil wanted to bring in some of his friends, but I talked him out of it. You don't go up against Kingpin with people you care about that's exactly what he wants. If you refuse, I'll understand. Hell's Kitchen belongs to him, no matter what anyone says. Half of New York is under his thumb."

"I'll help you, no doubt about it. I owe you one, and I sure as hell won't leave you hanging not after what you did for me," I said firmly. No matter the threat, I would face it head-on. Fear someone now? No, not anymore. Besides, staying undercover wouldn't be an issue. No one would suspect frail Leon was actually Escanor.

"Thanks," Castle nodded. "We nearly died yesterday. The bastard sent so many mercenaries that the whole city is crawling with them now. So, what exactly are your powers? Can you use them all the time?"

"Yeah, that won't be a problem. At least during the day," I replied.

"Got it. Then let's get to work," the Punisher said curtly.

Author's Note

In general I have ideas and would like to see your opinion, I decided to put them on patreon in general free access while there is nothing there I will fill everything gradually. On Escanor on patreon will be only one additional chapter earlier, it will be for those who just want to hold me.

patreon.com/ValikMurigov