Marvel: Silver Hand

Alexander crouched beside Daredevil on the rooftop, watching the Russian mob's stronghold below. The warehouse was heavily fortified, with armed guards patrolling the perimeter, some carrying automatic rifles, shotguns, and even a goddamn rocket launcher.

This wasn't some low-level gang operation—these guys were organized, dangerous, and well-equipped.

Daredevil adjusted his mask. "Alright, here's the plan. I'll sneak in through the top and find their leader. We need him alive so we can shut down their whole operation."

Alexander smirked. "Cool. And what do I do?"

Daredevil sighed, already knowing the answer. "You're going in through the front, aren't you?"

Alexander chuckled. "Damn right."

Daredevil groaned, rubbing his temples. "Fine. But promise me one thing—no killing."

Alexander rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. No killing."

Daredevil narrowed his eyes. "Say it like you mean it."

Alexander put his hand over his heart dramatically. "I swear on my honor—no killing."

Daredevil sighed. "I hate working with you."

Alexander grinned. "Nah, you love it."

Without another word, Daredevil grappled onto a nearby vent and disappeared into the darkness.

Alexander?

He walked straight to the front door.

---

The two guards outside the warehouse entrance immediately raised their rifles when they saw Alexander approaching.

One shouted in Russian, the other in English.

"STOP! LEAVE NOW, OR WE SHOOT!"

Alexander just smiled.

They opened fire.

The bullets burned before they reached his Uru armor, smoke flying into the air as they tried to gun him down.

He didn't flinch.

Instead, he casually strolled forward, letting them waste their ammo.

One of them panicked and went for a grenade launcher—

Too late.

Alexander exploded forward with a punch, sending the two guards flying through the warehouse doors, crashing into the concrete walls inside.

Alarms blared.

From inside, dozens of Russian mobsters armed with guns, knives, and makeshift weapons turned toward him.

One of them yelled in fear. "It's the Silver Hand!"

Alexander grinned. "Damn right."

Then they opened fire.

---

Alexander rushed forward, dodging bullets without using his wraith powers, instead relying purely on his reflexes and combat skills.

He grabbed a rifle mid-air, snapped it in half with his bare hands, and slammed the broken pieces into the nearest thug's ribs, sending him collapsing.

A huge brute swung a bat at his head—

Alexander ducked, grabbed his wrist, and flipped him over his shoulder, slamming him into the ground so hard the floor cracked.

One goon pulled out a machete and went for a wide swing—

Alexander sidestepped, grabbed his arm, and snapped it at the elbow.

The man screamed, dropping the blade.

Alexander caught it mid-fall and kicked him across the room, sending him through a stack of crates.

Another mobster charged with brass knuckles.

Alexander sidestepped and countered with a brutal uppercut, lifting the man off his feet before sending him crashing into the ceiling.

The rest of the thugs hesitated—

Alexander grinned at them, blood splattered across his armor.

"Well? Who's next?"

They rushed him all at once.

---

He weaved through them like a shadow, his fists snapping bones, his elbows crushing ribs.

One thug went for a spinning kick—

Alexander caught his leg mid-air, twisted it, and slammed him into the floor headfirst, knocking him out.

Another pulled a hidden blade and tried to stab his neck—

Alexander leaned back just enough to avoid the blade, then delivered a spinning back kick to his jaw, sending him flying into a concrete pillar.

By the time he was done, every single one of them was on the ground, groaning in pain.

Not a single one was dead.

But they'd wish they were.

---

Alexander cracked his knuckles and headed upstairs.

This time?

No guns.

The mobsters on this floor were different.

Brass knuckles.

Swords.

Knives.

One of them twirled a blade, smirking. "No weapons? You're dead."

Alexander grinned. "Let's see about that."

The first lunged with a sword.

Alexander sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and drove his knee into his ribs, shattering them.

Another came with brass knuckles, aiming for his jaw.

Alexander parried the punch, grabbed his arm, and flipped him into a chokehold, cutting off his air.

One thug went for a wild swing with a crowbar—

Alexander caught it mid-swing and ripped it out of his hands, before smashing it across his face, knocking him cold.

The final thug charged.

Alexander dodged, grabbed the back of his head, and slammed him into the wall so hard he left a crater.

---

As Alexander reached the top floor, something came flying toward him.

Daredevil.

Alexander caught him mid-air, surprised.

"Damn, what happened?"

Daredevil groaned, pointing. "That."

A huge Russian man—7ft tall, built like a tank, with a cybernetic Vibranium arm.

Alexander grinned. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

--

The Russian brute roared and charged at them.

Alexander went for a punch, but the Vibranium arm absorbed the force, and the brute countered, sending Alexander flying through a wall.

Daredevil tried a series of quick strikes, but the brute was too strong, swatting him away like a fly.

Alexander stood up, rolling his neck. "Okay. Time to break that arm."

He rushed forward, dodging the brute's attacks.

When the brute swung the Vibranium fist, Alexander caught it—

And unleashed his divine fire, melting the metal.

The brute screamed as his arm liquefied into molten metal.

Daredevil took the opportunity—

WHACK!

He slammed his billy club into the back of the brute's skull, knocking him out.

Alexander laughed, stretching. "That was fun."

Daredevil sighed. "Yeah. Not bad."

---

They heard police sirens in the distance.

Daredevil tied up the mob leader and disappeared.

Alexander looked down at the molten Vibranium, still smoldering on the floor.

He picked it up.

This could be useful.

He opened a portal to Eldrborinn's realm, stored it there for later, and left.

Tonight?

Was a good night.