Recoil & Reconvergence
Scene 1
POV: Council of Five (Third Person) / Time: Early Morning
The table was the same.
Cold steel. Five chairs. Five rulers of Detroit's underworld — seated, silent, and calculating.
Hex stood at attention in full gear, helmet under one arm. Beside him, Mamba leaned against the wall, arms folded. Breaker sat calmly, cracking his knuckles in rhythmic pops that echoed off the concrete.
A dossier sat open on the table: grainy images of the fight, scattered notes, blood analysis.
Madame Price opened the floor with a nod.
"Report."
Hex didn't posture. He gave them the truth.
"Target engaged during an active robbery. He displayed refined control of shadow-based constructs: offensive and defensive. Demonstrated agility, awareness, and durability beyond untrained metahuman standard."
Mamba added, her voice smooth and cold:
"Creates weapons mid-fight. Blades, chains, projectiles. Reacts on instinct. Tactical. But not experienced. Took damage. Bled. Escaped under stress."
Breaker leaned forward.
"Didn't beg. Didn't break either. But he felt it. We pushed him far enough that next time, he'll come harder… or not at all."
Father Grin's lips twisted into something near a grin.
"You believe he'll adapt?"
Hex nodded once.
"Yes. He's not finished."
The room fell quiet for a beat.
Then Madame Price folded the file shut.
"Good. For now, we watch. Don't strike again until we know who he really is."
Reeko flicked ash into a tray.
"He's wounded. Let him limp. See where he runs."
The lights dimmed as the team walked out.
And the hunt… paused.
For now.
Scene 2
POV: Silas & Devon (Third Person) / Time: Late Morning
Light filtered in through the curtains, too soft, too normal.
Silas stirred on the couch, ribs taped, his hoodie slung over him like a blanket. The bandages on his shoulder tugged when he shifted. Pain pulsed behind his eyes.
Across the room, Devon stood holding a water bottle, watching him like someone observing a recently defused bomb.
"Well," he said dryly, "good morning, Spider-Man."
Silas groaned. "You're never letting that go, are you?"
Devon tossed him the bottle. "Not in a million years."
From the desk, Amy said nothing.
Devon nodded toward her, then back at Silas. "I'll leave you two to it. I've got class. Also, not getting involved in your shadow brawls, but I'll keep quiet."
He looked at Silas seriously.
"You get killed again, though? I'm not dragging your body out twice."
Silas offered a half-smile. "Deal."
Devon left.
The door clicked shut.
Scene 3
POV: Silas & Amy (Third Person) / Time: Evening
Silas moved slower now, still bandaged, still sore. He stood by the counter when Amy finally spoke.
"You really weren't going to tell us?"
Her voice was soft. Tired. Cracked at the edges.
Silas didn't answer immediately. He closed the fridge, grabbed a water, and leaned against the counter.
"I didn't want to."
"You almost died."
"I didn't."
"But you could have."
Silas turned to face her, jaw tense. "So what? You're mad now?"
Amy pushed off the desk, stepping closer. "Yes. I'm mad. Because you lied. Because you bled out in front of us and didn't think we deserved to know why."
He dropped his eyes. "I didn't lie. I just… didn't tell you."
"Same damn thing."
Her voice rose. "You think you're doing the noble thing, keeping everyone out of your mess? But this isn't just about you anymore."
Silas clenched the water bottle in his hand. "Why the hell are you mad? I'm the one being hunted. I'm the one bleeding."
Amy stepped closer, eyes sharp. "Because I care, Silas."
Silas flinched slightly. That stopped him more than any wound.
Amy continued, quieter now. "I care. And I can't watch you destroy yourself pretending like it doesn't affect people."
He turned away. "Amy… we're just friends."
"Yeah," she whispered, "but that doesn't mean I don't feel something."
She turned and walked out of the room.
Scene 4
POV: Silas (Third Person) / Time: Over 3 Weeks (Montage)
Silas healed fast.
Faster than before. The bruises faded quicker. The cuts closed without scarring. The tiredness lingered less.
Each night, when the dorm was quiet, he trained.
He refined his shadow control:
Distance casting — no longer needing to touch the shadow, only to focusFaster weapon generation — not just spears and knives now, but chains, disks, hook-blades, spiked tonfas, twin crescentsThrowing weapons that curved mid-flightCounter-forms mid-swing
He tested shadow movement:
Vanishing from one shadowReappearing across the street — or higher, mid-airTiming it mid-fight, hitting flanks like he was appearing behind opponents before they could blink
The battles with Hex's team haunted him.
But he remembered every move.
And now?
"I'm not fighting just to survive anymore," he told himself between sessions.
"I'm getting ready for war."
Scene 5
POV: Detective Whitlock (Third Person) / Time: Late Night
Detective Whitlock stared at the crime board again.
More red threads. More attacks. Fewer patterns.
She stood with her arms folded, watching the screen replay the last known footage: a vigilante knocking out armed robbers in seconds, then vanishing into a wall of black.
"He's faster. Cleaner," she muttered. "But still leaving trails."
A new report came in: hospital records matching impact wounds not made by bullets. Clean fractures. Precision hits.
She added them to the case.
The noose was tightening.
Scene 6
POV: Silas (Third Person) / Time: Midnight
Detroit's skyline buzzed with weak light and colder wind. From above, everything looked quieter than it was.
Silas stood on the edge of the rooftop, cloaked in his new layer of confidence. He scanned the blocks, reading the movement. No crimes yet. Not tonight.
Then—
Clap.
Slow. Deliberate.
He turned.
Emerging from a wall of shadow — like he'd lived there all along — Hex stepped forward, visor glowing faint red.
"I applaud your bravery… or is it just stupidity?"
Mamba walked out next, blades twirling lightly in each hand.
Breaker followed, rolling his shoulders like he was ready to demolish brick.
Silas didn't speak.
He just reached toward the ground.
Shadows curled at his feet.
His fingers tensed.
His eyes narrowed.
Round two.