Marvel Template System:Spectrum

- Take a closer look...

A little boy, about seven years old, listened to his father's words and focused on what was happening. Or rather, on the colony of ants.

They were building entire logistical highways to transport the resources they needed. Dozens, hundreds, thousands of ants were working for a single goal.

It might seem like an ordinary sight, but if you look closely, the small—seemingly insignificant—details begin to take on new colors.

Not that Chris was particularly inspired by this spectacle, but he always listened to his father with utmost attention.

- How fragile they are...

His father's words weren't always clear to Chris, or rather, the subtext and hidden meanings often eluded him. Even now, Chris didn't understand why his father emphasized the "fragility" of these creatures.

But the next action made everything crystal clear.

His father's boot mercilessly—almost indifferently—crushed a multitude of insects. And again. And again, until all that remained before Chris were the crushed bodies of the ants that had been a colony just seconds ago.

- Why did you do that? - The lives of the ants meant nothing to him. But the "pointlessness," the almost casual cruelty with which his father had destroyed the helpless insects... It left a mark on his memory.

- The value of life is only realized at its end... - His father replied, as always, thoughtfully and melancholically. - And it will be worth exactly as much as YOU decide.

- We went to church recently, - Chris was drawing meaningless patterns in the dirt, just to keep his hands busy. - And the priest said that every life is sacred...

- Life... is so fragile, so fleeting. It clings to every opportunity, to every breath, like a trembling candle in the dark. But the true value of life isn't in its endless reproduction. Life is precious not because of its abundance, but because of its rarity, its limitations, and its uniqueness.

- Even so... - Chris frowned. - Does that give me the right to take it away?

- Death is part of the cycle. Without it, there is no life. Every death, every destruction, is a step toward saving something greater, - his father crouched down and gently patted his head. - Don't kill out of hate, son. Kill out of love.

- Out of love? - Chris's confused expression made it clear that his father's last words had only further bewildered the little boy. - But love is... love is about good things, right? What's the connection between love and hate, Dad?

- In time, you'll understand that love has killed just as many as hate, - his father closed his eyes. - Killing isn't the sublimation of cruelty, but an act of mercy. And no one can take that right away from you. Only you determine the value of life, remember that.

- Killing... - The little boy lowered his gaze thoughtfully. - Is an act of mercy?

- Truly so...

*****

Trish looked skeptically at the decor of the basement bar. Seeing the questionable name, the questionable location—some back alley where homeless people often slept—and the questionable... clientele, Trish... well, to put it mildly, wanted to leave.

But the only lead on her sister's whereabouts had to be here.

Patricia, "Trish," Walker was a beautiful blonde with a confident gaze, a strong walk, and the charisma honed by years in show business. In a bar like "Sister Margaret's," a "proper" and attractive girl like her would've been groped long ago, but something in her aura and unwavering stare made it clear that this blonde wasn't some innocent lamb. Though no one stopped the patrons from undressing her with their eyes, of course...

Trish hated bars, especially ones as... sketchy as this. At first glance, it was clear that the "upper" dregs of Hell's Kitchen were the main clientele here. But she had no other leads.

Her sister, Jessica Jones, had gone missing after yesterday's explosion at the building where she lived and worked. The problem was that no one—absolutely no one—had died! The building had collapsed in on itself and then burst into flames like a matchstick! And no one had died!

When she arrived there, terrified out of her mind, she found only the strange sight of firefighters, medics, and police officers trying to pry grenades out of civilians' hands.

The whole thing wasn't just strange—it was lethally abnormal!

Putting two and two together, including Jessica's disappearance and her lack of response to calls, Trish realized her sister's direct involvement.

Trish... hadn't spoken to her sister in a long time. At least, not as sister to sister, but as... something else.

After her "return" six months ago, Jessica... had changed. She became withdrawn, cut off contact, and drowned herself in liters of alcohol. None of Trish's attempts to reconnect had succeeded. Well, she did learn some details about where Jessica had been for that whole year, but...

Jessica never seemed interested in fully restoring their relationship. Just the occasional phone call and... that was it.

Just imagine.

Your sister disappears for a whole year.

She comes back with depression and cuts off almost all contact.

And then, at some point, her building explodes, and she goes missing!

If it weren't for a lucky conversation during their first "reunion," Trish wouldn't even have known about Kilgrave! Who, judging by the "hypnotized" residents of Jessica's building, was involved in this whole... mess.

And for some reason, the only lead in this case was... some Christopher, for God's sake, Wallace!

- Hm, - the bearded bartender, nicknamed Ferret, just snorted mockingly. - You're too late, lady. Biggie Smalls died ten or more years ago.

- I'm not... - Trish took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. - Do you know Jessica Jones?

- Which Jessica?

- Brunette in a leather jacket, short... - Noticing the blank look on the man's face, Trish played her trump card. - Drinks like a sailor and swears like a hundred of them.

The Ferret's eyes immediately lit up with recognition. Of course, why bother with a physical description when behavior speaks for itself? And Jessica knew how to... be expressive.

- "Trainwreck," - the Ferret nodded. - So, what's this got to do with Biggie Smalls?

- I don't know, - Trish sighed for the hundredth time. - Maybe some code or cipher? I have the address of this bar and the name "Christopher Wallace"!

- Let's check, - the Ferret nodded and turned to the other end of the bar. - Hey, Chris!

In that direction stood the Ferret's partner, a skinny brunette of average height with a gloomy expression, who was just serving a customer.

- What? - The man replied tiredly.

- You know anyone named Christopher Wallace?

- That's me, - Chris shrugged. - Who's asking?

- Your mother, your name's Christopher Wallace?!

- Excuse me, - Trish couldn't care less about funny or ironic names. She wasn't here for that. - But I need to talk. I'm Jessica's sister. You can call me Trish.

That statement had an effect. If before Chris had seemed like a corpse indifferent to everything, now a spark of life returned to him. But not enough to show friendliness.

- What do you want? - Chris sighed.

- I want to know where she is, - Trish's gut told her this guy knew something. - Jessica hasn't answered calls since yesterday's "explosion," and no bodies were found in her building. She just vanished!

- No idea, - Chris replied indifferently. - I'm not her brother, not her friend, not her mom. I don't keep track of her movements. She's probably with Kilgrave...

- So he's alive! - Trish immediately perked up, though on the other hand, there wasn't much to be happy about. All the facts pointed to Kilgrave being behind the explosion, and Jessica leaving with him. - Do you know where she went?!

- Like I said, no idea, - Chris replied irritably.

- You... - Trish looked at Chris skeptically. - You don't care?! But Jessica's your friend!

- Not anymore, - Chris smirked bitterly. - She doesn't need my help.

Now Trish understood that Jessica was a sore subject for this guy. Behind the feigned indifference was resentment. But... there was no real indifference here. And that could be worked with.

Trish decided to approach it from another angle.

- What do you know about Kilgrave and Jessica?

- Some crazy bastard obsessed with Jessica, who can control people, - Chris spat out.

And that description... fit Kilgrave perfectly. Trish was sure Jessica couldn't have said it better, unless "better" included a ton of swearing.

- Listen, - Trish spoke carefully to her interlocutor. - Jessica spent a whole year as that... bastard's prisoner. But six months ago, she managed to escape! And apparently gained some immunity to his powers! Wherever she is, Jessica's in her right mind. And she needs our help.

- Six months as a puppet, - Chris muttered under his breath. - Just like those poor victims...

- Exactly, - Trish nodded patiently.

- Why did you come to me? - Chris switched to a businesslike tone for the first time during the conversation.

- Yesterday, I suspect shortly before the explosion, - Trish pulled out her phone and opened the last message from her sister. - Jessica sent me this address and your name. She said that if anything happened, I should seek protection from... - Trish glanced skeptically at Chris from head to toe. - You.

- Jessica... - Chris looked at the phone screen in surprise. Trish thought he looked touched. - Jessica listed me as her emergency contact?

- Correct, - years in show business had taught her to read people well, and Chris, no matter how hard he tried, was an open book. - That means she trusted you...

- Trusted... - Chris repeated, as if in a daze. - Trusted... me?

- And I'd like to think that her trust is an extremely rare thing, - Trish decided to drive the point home. - Chris, I have no idea what happened between you and Jessica. And believe me, I'm well acquainted with my sister's... difficult personality. But you need to know that Jessica is a good person! And she needs our help!

Chris didn't respond immediately. It was as if he wasn't even there! In general, the guy was in his own world, but...

- Yeah, - Chris smirked. - Jessica... is a good person. The best I've ever known...

Trish felt encouraged, sensing that her interlocutor was already on board.

- Are you some kind of crime boss? Undercover agent? Do you have the resources to get Jessica out of Kilgrave's clutches?!

- Well, - Chris awkwardly twitched his neck. - I'm... kind of homeless.

- ... what?

- Well, technically you can't be "kind of" homeless, so just homeless is more accurate.

- ... what?

- By the way, - Chris leaned in slightly and lowered his voice to a whisper. - Can I crash at your place for a bit?

- ... what?

*****

- General, - the pilot of the military ship addressed the gray-haired man in uniform. - Forty-five minutes to New York.

- Understood, - the man nodded, turning to his deputy and the head of the operational team. - Captain Blonsky, do you have the data?

- The target is heading to Samuel Sterns, a cellular biology expert at Grayburn College, - Blonsky nodded. - But why would he do that?

- Probably wants to get rid of his "condition," - Ross snorted.

- Naturally, that's not acceptable to us...

- Of course! His blood, his flesh, his unique case could elevate our country to unprecedented heights! Emil, weren't you amazed by his power?!

- Absolutely amazed, - Blonsky smirked bitterly. But in his smirk, there was a hint of... obsession. Unfortunately, General Ross didn't notice. - We must capture him. Bruce Banner... no. The Hulk.

Jessica was used to feeling... well, like crap. It's worth noting that alcoholics don't just happen.

First, she'd been kidnapped. Well, that was a bit—actually, a lot—of an exaggeration. After all, Jessica had gone with Kilgrave willingly and saved him from Chris. Not that she didn't want to wring Kilgrave's neck herself, but Chris was so relentless in his desire to do so that it inadvertently sobered Jessica up.

Kilgrave couldn't be killed there and then. Otherwise, countless innocent people would've been blown to pieces. Jessica had long since sworn off helping every random person, and her childhood desire to be a hero had been chalked up to childish naivety, but...

Apparently, Jessica wasn't as indifferent to others' lives as she wanted to believe. The mere thought that her indirect actions would lead to deaths filled her with horror.

And that led to the second reason for her terrible mood.

She'd hit Chris.

SHE'D HIT CHRIS!

Actually, sitting in Kilgrave's apartment and reflecting on it, Jessica concluded that she hadn't done anything "wrong."

Chris hadn't been in control.

Wait, no... It was much worse.

Chris had been in control but deemed those people's deaths acceptable. And Jessica still couldn't believe she'd been so wrong about her... little hamster.

Because Chris... well, he was so harmless! So friendly, sometimes shy and timid. Genuinely happy to make new friends, trying to help... God, he even genuinely listened to the problems of those bar regulars who had no one else to vent to! He actually sat there and listened, not just pretended to!

Turns out, "genuineness" in all things doesn't give you the full picture of a person. Though all the signs were there!

Chris...

Well, Jessica would be the first—as his best friend—to admit that Chris wasn't all there. He wasn't firing on all cylinders. His marbles were regularly rolling off the table. "Not of this world," as people liked to say...

But in short...

Chris was a complete psycho.

Anyone would fall for his harmless appearance. I mean, what harm could this scrawny guy with doe eyes do? Oh no, this "scrawny guy"—if you pissed him off—would break arms and legs like it was nothing! Crush teeth, slam your stupid heads into the bar... And a lot more. In short, it only took the bar a couple of days to realize that Chris... well, he wasn't normal. And in a place like that, that said a lot.

Rage just... flowed through his veins. Smoking oceans and lakes of fury that, given the chance, would tear you to pieces. The scariest part of it all was the speed with which Chris went from "how can I help you?" to "you'll pick up your own teeth and clean up your own blood."

Chris had full-on bipolar disorder! A mental illness where you constantly alternate between two opposite emotional states!

So, is Chris a psycho? Well... yeah.

Does that mean Jessica doesn't want to talk to Chris anymore? Of course not.

In fact, Jessica understood that she'd done the right thing by sending Chris flying, but... She hadn't wanted to hit him. Sure, Jessica loved putting jerks in their place, but... Chris wasn't a jerk.

Standing between Chris and Kilgrave, Jessica understood Chris much better. His internal issues, which had led him to this state.

In fact...

Chris was a child who'd been hurt by the world. He'd endured and endured all his life, unable to fight back. But once he gained strength, once he found his footing, his inner demons just... exploded. The control cultivated over years didn't just crack—it was incinerated by Chris's rage!

He'd grown up in the ghetto, surrounded by gangsters and other kids with no prospects. And then he'd been sent to a mental hospital, where they tried to "fix" him. Though Chris himself said they hadn't done anything "bad" to him in the psych ward, Jessica understood that growing up in that kind of environment couldn't lead to anything good.

And Jessica understood that if Chris stayed on this "trajectory," then...

The world would pay for his pain.

At this rate, Chris would realize that control meant nothing to him. That it only held back his potential...

And Jessica, with a clear conscience, realized she couldn't abandon her friend. Even if they'd had this... disagreement, only she could stop Chris from falling into that pit. Especially since... Chris had genuinely wanted to help her. Her life meant more to him than anyone else's. That was wrong, but, let's be honest, it was endearing.

But Kilgrave would be small potatoes compared to Chris. Especially given the unclear nature of Biggie Smalls' abilities. He was growing stronger at an unreal pace!

In short, she needed to deal with Kilgrave once and for all and then focus on "raising" Chris.

Speaking of Kilgrave...

- Useless... - Kilgrave's trembling hands gripped his own face. - Useless pieces of...

- Shit, - Jessica helpfully finished for him and then added. - Not as useless as you, of course.

- Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! - Kilgrave screeched hysterically. - This is all your fault! You're the one who wouldn't obey!

- Yeah, - Jessica yawned boredly. - Whatever you say.

Kilgrave was a very complicated "villain."

His signature ability—subjugating people to his will—had cultivated traits like narcissism, arrogance, and pride.

He wasn't used to disobedience. You could say that for him, someone else's will was just a strange curiosity. Like looking at a particularly amusing animal.

Unquestioning obedience from everyone around him was Kilgrave's objective reality. People obeyed him, end of story.

That's why he became obsessed with Jessica when she managed to escape and gained immunity to his powers. And "subjugating" Jessica was a kind of achievement for him. Success in this task would confirm his "extraordinariness."

Jessica wasn't even surprised when she saw the numerous photos of her face in Kilgrave's apartment. Well, Jessica cursed under her breath, called Kilgrave a sick son of a bitch, and went looking for the minibar.

What was it to her, Jessica, another psycho? She was a psycho, her best friend was a psycho, her nemesis was a psycho. Just another Tuesday, really.

But Kilgrave didn't like surprises. You could say he couldn't stand them. That's why Chris's appearance in "I'll kill everyone" mode had affected him so much. Because Chris, well...

Had screwed Kilgrave over.

First, he'd not just resisted but shown some form of uncontrollable immunity. Second, Kilgrave's years of hostage tactics had failed when Chris spat on the innocent from a great height.

If it hadn't been for Jessica, Kilgrave would've become Kilgrave the corpse.

All these factors had led to the hysterical outbursts of a little child named Kilgrave. Well, a very nasty and unbearable child.

And Chris, in his rage, had managed to destroy almost all of Kilgrave's firepower. The remnants were only in the hotel, guarding them.

- Sir! - Some nameless mercenary burst into the room and held out a tablet. Another of Kilgrave's puppets. - We think we've found exactly what we need!

- What is it?! - Kilgrave grabbed the tablet, both angrily and hopefully.

- A plane full of military personnel and their equipment is about to land at the airport, - the mercenary announced with anticipation.

- Heh, - Kilgrave smirked nervously, spinning the tablet. - Luck is finally on my side...

This news didn't bode well. Not for Jessica, and not for Chris, who'd inadvertently become Kilgrave's new target. The villain couldn't just forget the humiliation. It wasn't in his nature.

- Hey, purple-headed moron, - Jessica didn't know what to say, but she couldn't stay silent. - Are you sure controlling the military won't draw... more attention to you?

Despite all his arrogance, Kilgrave wasn't an idiot. That's why he'd kept his... subjugation at a certain level. He didn't want to fight the whole world.

Though Jessica still didn't understand why more serious people hadn't gone after this creep.

- You're staying here, - Kilgrave didn't answer her question, just pinned her with a threatening glare. It didn't impress her. - If you try anything, you'll be shot. I didn't want to hurt you, darling, but now I need to deal with bigger fish. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. And yes, if you run, I'll kill everyone in this building.

Jessica just snorted at all the threats. Honestly, she was starting to get tired of all these monotonous threats. Besides, she didn't want to run. For now, she was looking for ways to "deal" with her kidnapper.

- Go to hell.

*****

- Well, - Chris rubbed his brow in confusion, looking at the photos of the upscale hotel. - That was easier than I expected.

Chris and Trish were in her apartment in central New York. And yes, Trish had some decent money. Quite a contrast to her less successful sister, the part-time detective alcoholic.

Trish Walker worked as a radio host on her own show, where she made good money.

In response to Chris's inevitable remark that radio was dead, Trish just flipped him off. As it turned out, a lot of people still listened to the radio, and Trish was apparently a popular radio star.

- Kilgrave's too arrogant, - Trish just shrugged, texting her contacts. - He didn't even think to hide.

Strange, especially after his close encounter with Chris himself, but it wasn't his place to judge. Everyone in his circle was crazy. Apparently, even the enemies.

- And Jessica walked in with Kilgrave the day before yesterday, - Trish showed him another set of photos.

As it turned out, if you had money, you could, say, hire a few private investigators who had no trouble not only finding Kilgrave but also setting up round-the-clock surveillance. Because Kilgrave hadn't even hidden!

- Now we need to come up with a plan, - Trish stared at Chris with considerable skepticism. - Any ideas?

- We need to contact Jessica, - Chris pursed his lips, remembering that Kilgrave had a few insurance policies. - Once we coordinate, we'll act.

- What can you even do? Sorry, - Trish frowned when the cameras broadcasting the hotel's entrances and exits around the clock started glitching. The feed just... froze.

Trish tried calling the hired investigators, but each time she got a message that the subscriber was out of network coverage.

So...

Let's summarize.

Cameras set up by different people from different sources all shut down at once.

Investigators stopped responding...

And that meant...

Something was going down with Jessica at the epicenter.

- We're out of time, - Chris stood up decisively, putting on his jacket. - We need to be there, right now.

- But... - Trish chewed her lip nervously. - Can we handle this?

- You asked what I can do, right? - Chris smiled confidently. - Well, in short, I'm strong and a great driver.

- That's it? - Trish asked incredulously. - You're planning to take on Kilgrave's mercenaries alone?

- I'm very strong and a very good driver, - Chris snorted at the thought of the mercenaries.

He was absolutely confident in his abilities, but the uncertainty of the "signal loss" forced him to act.

- How strong are you? - Trish kept asking as they headed to the underground parking lot.

- Stronger than Jessica, - Chris smirked.

Trish didn't believe him but couldn't resist a second question.

- And how good are you at driving?

Chris suppressed the manic grin threatening to spread across his face.

- You've never seen anything like it.

SYNCHRONIZATION [1] [Berserker ???] [Rank: Legendary]: 43%

SYNCHRONIZATION [2] [Dominic Toretto] [Rank: Rare]: 1%