Zane's POV
It had been a couple of weeks now, and I started noticing some changes. The crime rate in Hell's Kitchen had dropped—almost too much. At first, I thought it was just my efforts paying off, but then I realized something else was at play. S.H.I.E.L.D. was trying to lure me out.
How did I know? My shadow birds. Every time I took down a gang hideout, I had them scout the area. And every time, they spotted a group of people hiding out in nearby buildings, watching. They had surveillance equipment, high-end tech—definitely not your average criminals. It didn't take much to figure out these people were S.H.I.E.L.D.
Their latest attempt was almost laughable. They set up a warehouse, filled it with agents dressed as criminals, trying to make it look like a gang operation. My guess? They wanted to see if I had more abilities than just my archery and shadow constructs. If I stormed in, they'd be watching my every move, analyzing me.
Too bad for them—I wasn't falling for it. I ignored their bait and stuck to my original plan. My priority was still smoking out the Hand. S.H.I.E.L.D. could wait.
I was on one of my nightly patrols when I noticed something—several people were following me. They were good, moving in the shadows, but not good enough. It had to be the Hand.
They finally decided to come after me.
I acted like I didn't notice and continued moving, heading toward one of the abandoned warehouses. After spending so much time in Hell's Kitchen, I knew every abandoned building like the back of my hand. If they wanted to hunt me, I'd make sure they walked straight into my trap.
I moved fast, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, making it seem like I was unaware of my pursuers. Once I reached the warehouse, I slipped inside, disappearing into the darkness. Now, all I had to do was wait.
Before they came in, I spread my shadow soldiers around, making sure they stayed hidden in the darkness near every exit. No ninja would be escaping tonight.
Minutes passed before they finally entered, moving cautiously, their eyes scanning the dimly lit warehouse. They were looking for me, but I was already in position.
I stepped out of the shadows. "I was wondering when the Hand would come after me."
All seven of them froze, their heads snapping toward me. Three men, three women, all dressed in black, swords at the ready. Their postures tensed in surprise—not just because I had been expecting them, but because I knew exactly who they were.
I ordered my shadows to emerge, their forms shifting into weapons—some held guns, others brandished blades or jagged constructs.
"Attack," I commanded.
The warehouse erupted into chaos. My shadows swarmed the Hand, striking with relentless force. I knew better than to take them head-on; I would lose in a direct fight. Instead, I slipped back into the darkness, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.
The ninjas were impressive, cutting through my soldiers with deadly precision, dodging and countering as if they had done this a thousand times before. But no matter how skilled they were, numbers would overwhelm them. I called forth more shadows, forcing the Hand into a losing battle.
Then, I saw my opening. Three of them left a gap in their defense—just enough.
I pulled back my bow and shot three arrows. They struck true, piercing skulls before the ninjas even realized they had been targeted.
The remaining assassins fell, consumed by my shadow soldiers.
As the last body dropped, I stepped forward, standing over the fallen warriors. Their strength would not go to waste. My shadows swirled around them, pulling them into my army.
"Arise," I commanded, my voice echoing through the warehouse.
The seven fallen ninjas twitched, their bodies darkening as my shadows seeped into them. Their forms distorted, consumed by the void, until they were no longer men but something else entirely—something mine.
One by one, they stood, their eyes glowing faintly within their shadowed bodies. Silent, waiting, loyal.
I had taken the Hand's own assassins and made them my own.
After dealing with the Hand, I planned to head home, but my shadow mouse with Jessica sent an alert—Kilgrave, the Purple Man, had appeared. Unlike in the show, Jessica wasn't immune to his powers yet, and to my surprise, Kilgrave was actually purple.
I saw everything through my mouse's eyes. They were in a nightclub, dimly lit with flashing neon lights. Jessica stood frozen, her usual defiance replaced by unsettling stillness. Around them, a group of men and women armed with guns stood at attention, their expressions blank—Kilgrave's puppets, waiting for his command.
I had no time to waste. I ordered my mouse to slip out of Jessica's shadow and scurry toward a dark corner, preparing to make my move.
I didn't waste time. As soon as my shadow mouse reached a dark corner, I stepped into its shadow and teleported. I arrived silently, concealed by the dim lighting of the nightclub. My eyes locked onto him—Kilgrave, standing smugly in the center of the room, his unnatural purple skin illuminated by the flickering neon lights.
Without hesitation, I summoned my bow, drawing an arrow and taking aim. I needed to end this quickly. I knew his mind control wouldn't work on me, but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. If he realized his powers had no effect, he'd resort to ordering his brainwashed puppets to attack. I couldn't let that happen. I steadied my breathing, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
I loosed my arrow, and it pierced straight through Kilgrave's head. Just like that, he was dead. His body hit the ground with a dull thud.
Stepping out of the shadows, I approached his corpse, glancing at the people he had been controlling. They remained eerily still, their eyes vacant, trapped in the remnants of his influence. I recalled from the show that his control could linger for hours even after his death.
As I neared his body, I opened a portal to my house—one of my shadow mice always remained there, ensuring I had a reliable escape. Without hesitation, I pushed Kilgrave's lifeless form through the portal, disposing of it.
With that done, I leaned back against the wall, taking a seat. Now, all I had to do was wait for the people to snap back to their senses.
It took a few hours, but eventually, the people snapped back to their senses. Their weapons clattered to the floor as the weight of what had happened crashed down on them. Most of them looked like they were on the verge of a nervous breakdown—not that I could blame them. Kilgrave had been controlling them, violating their very will.
I wished I could do something to help, but this was beyond my power. The best I could do was make sure they didn't hurt themselves in their confusion. I stood up and gathered all the weapons, tossing them into a portal back to my house. Once that was done, I turned to the dazed crowd.
"Call the police," I told them before preparing to leave.
Before I could step into the portal, Jessica called out to me.
"Wait, you're the Shadow Archer, right?" she asked.
I raised an eyebrow. "The Shadow Archer? When did people start calling me that?"
"A lot of people online didn't like 'Umbra Archer,' so they decided to call you Shadow Archer instead."
( You Know Who You Are)
I let that sink in for a moment before nodding. "Shadow Archer… I like it. And yeah, that's me."
Jessica crossed her arms. "Thanks for the help, but how did you even know Kilgrave was here?"
I smirked beneath my hood. "You weren't the only one tracking him, Jessica."
Her eyes widened slightly, caught off guard that I knew her name.
I turned and stepped through the portal. "We'll meet again."
Once I arrived back home, Kilgrave's body was still there, lifeless on the floor. I walked toward him, summoning my power.
"Arise."