Permission Denied
The days began to pass quietly.
Or at least, that was the idea.
Except that a series of videos started spreading all over the internet.
Videos showing the most well known hero of the moment.
The one who had, essentially, declared war on anyone who refused to register under the law.
Owen Colt.
The man people were now starting to call the Hunter of Heroes.
His figure was under constant public scrutiny thanks to those videos.
Literally, the day after his declaration, the first recording of his work capturing so called "heroic criminals" appeared.
The first video went up that very night.
The footage was unstable, recorded from the window of a nearby building. Smoke covered almost the entire screen, and sirens blended with the screams of people trapped inside.
At some point, a red and blue silhouette burst through the flames.
"It's Spider Man!" someone shouted behind the camera, excited as they realized they were watching one of the youngest heroes to have appeared in recent times.
The young hero did not hesitate for even a second. He leapt toward one of the upper windows, kicked through the glass, and disappeared into the burning building.
For a few seconds, there was nothing but smoke.
Then he emerged again, carrying an unconscious woman in his arms.
The people around almost began to cheer.
Except Spider Man never reached the ground.
A silhouette wrapped in a red aura suddenly appeared in the street, right at the point where Spider Man was about to land. It grabbed him by the neck before the webhead could do anything to stop it.
Without even bothering to secure the woman, he let her drop onto the pavement while the soldier, clearly more interested in capturing the hero, slammed him into the ground with a dull impact. The force was so strong it seemed to crack the pavement itself, red light running through the fractures.
"There are people still inside," Spider Man said with difficulty, as if that mattered more than the pain spreading through his entire body.
Owen did not seem to care in the slightest.
His face was hidden behind the tactical mask, allowing only a cold, almost emotionless voice to escape.
"And under the law, you do not have permission to intervene," he said as he pulled a triangular device from his belt and pressed it against Spider Man's chest.
Cables shot out of the device, quickly restraining the young hero.
Owen hoisted him over his shoulder and started walking away.
"Wait! Aren't you going to do anything?" the person recording asked quickly.
"VITAE or registered heroes are surely already on their way," Owen replied before turning away and vanishing in a red flash, right in front of everyone.
The crowd stood frozen, shocked by the coldness, by the complete lack of humanity.
Some time later, Iron Man could be seen arriving with several armors, which entered the building to rescue the trapped civilians.
But in another clip that began circulating, an ambulance could be seen driving away with bodies covered in sheets, while the paramedics shook their heads, making it clear that not everyone had survived.
That video reached two million views in less than an hour.
And it was not the only one.
The second appeared the following day, pushed forward by the impact of the first.
This time, there was no fire.
Just a quiet park, a small girl, and a white cat stuck on a tree branch.
The camera was clear, well focused. Filmed by a passerby amused by the small heroic act of a girl no older than ten.
"Come on, I'm almost there," the girl murmured, stretching out her hand.
Two small transparent steps formed beneath her feet. From her focused expression, it was clear maintaining them took effort, even as a small, proud smile appeared on her face while her hand came close to the cat.
But before she could reach it, she felt her body turn weightless.
She looked up, noticing someone had grabbed her by the waist and was holding her in midair.
"Huh?" she asked, confused.
"Unregistered ability use. You are under arrest," said a neutral voice beneath a military mask.
"But the kitty," the girl managed to say before disappearing along with the man who had captured her in a red flash.
The people around stood completely confused, while the cat continued to meow from the branches.
That video surpassed five million views, and it kept climbing.
…
"Wow, Owen. You're really popular now," Pietro said as he approached with his phone, reading through the comments on the videos where Owen prevented heroes from saving people. He was clearly enjoying himself.
Owen was leaning back with his eyes closed, still wearing his suit.
Not far from him was Kamala, the protagonist of the second video, calmly playing with a small white cat, making it chase a string.
"Look, Peter. Everyone thinks you're dead now," Pietro added, showing the clip where Peter was thrown into the concrete, leaving visible cracks behind. "Though I think your line was a bit overacted," he said with a grin.
"I mean, my whole body really hurt. That immobilizer is not gentle at all," Peter replied, lightly touching his neck where he had been grabbed. "But it's fine, Mr. Owen. People will believe the deaths are real and they'll hate you for it," he added, his tone turning more serious.
"That's exactly what we're looking for, kid. Realism," Tony said, his tone clearly proud. "No one's going to notice they're just holograms. After all, who do you think invented the tech?" he added.
"Still, I think it's kind of dark to lie and say people are dying because Mr. Owen won't let vigilantes do their job," Peter said, sounding uneasy.
"That's why you're just a kid," Tony replied with a mocking tone.
Then he stepped closer to Owen.
"Well, the first part of your plan is already in motion. Friday will make sure the videos spread much faster and redirect public opinion. It shouldn't take long before the first ones show up," he added as he sat down on a nearby couch.
"The first ones?" Kamala asked, tilting her head with interest.
"The first heroes who will actually be arrested, not a performance like what you two pulled," Tony said.
"I already have one in mind," Owen said as he slowly stood up and began stretching lightly.
"Oh. You're heading out right now?" Tony asked with interest.
"Yes. I need you to clean up after me again. No civilian casualties. Real ones," he said, emphasizing the word real, making it clear what he expected from Tony.
"I really don't like this job. Is this how it feels when people follow you around all the time cleaning up your messes?" Tony said, sounding somewhat annoyed. "You know you've got the fastest man in the world on the team. He'd be pretty useful backup," he added.
That made Pietro lift his head from his phone.
"Hey, I'm busy. I've got to help Nicholas, Wanda, and Rhodey on their mission to rescue civilians from a terrorist group in the Middle East," he said quickly.
"Then what are you doing here?" Peter asked, his expression turning serious.
"Oh, well. I gave them time to catch up. Being the first to arrive isn't really my style," Pietro replied before checking the time. "Oh. Time to go," he said, vanishing instantly and leaving behind a trail of displaced air from his speed.
"Then take the kid with you. He needs field experience," Tony said, pointing at Peter.
"No. Peter is dead," Kamala said with innocent amusement.
"I'm not dead," Peter replied immediately. "But technically, I am in prison," he added under his breath.
"Stop complaining," Owen said as he walked toward the exit, making Tony frown in irritation before following him.
…
Hell's Kitchen.
One of the most chaotic places in all of Manhattan, an area filled with constant crime, organized syndicates, and corruption. All kinds of dark things could be found there.
If Owen had to compare it to somewhere, he might even say it resembled Gotham. Though the difference in scale was massive. One was a city, the other a neighborhood. And Gotham had been designed to be completely broken.
In one of the industrial districts, something entirely normal for those streets was taking place.
A gang shootout.
Innocent civilians ran in panic, trying to get away before they were hit by stray bullets. Even nearby homes had to shut their doors and windows, hiding wherever the walls might still stop a round.
At the entrance of one of the factories, a man appeared carrying a large bag that rattled with a metallic sound at every step. His suit was fully prepared for joining the firefight.
He opened the bag and began pulling out weapons of all kinds.
He loaded a shotgun and secured several firearms around his waist. But before chambering the next round, he suddenly turned around.
"Bang."
He fired without hesitation into the darkness.
From there, a figure rolled across the ground, narrowly dodging the shot. He wore red, with two small horns on his mask, which had no space for eyes, as if he simply did not need them.
"I can't let you go in there. You'll cause even more deaths than necessary," the man in red said as he faced the armed figure, who paused for a moment to study him.
"The Red Devil," he said with mild annoyance. "I heard you've been showing up around here, but I'm not interested in playing games with you," he added as he pumped the shotgun, ready to fire.
From the sounds coming from inside, it seemed some of them had noticed the gunshot. Others were surely on their way to check it out.
The Red Devil made a slight, irritated grimace as he gripped his baton, keeping his eyes fixed on the armed man. At the same time, he could clearly hear footsteps approaching.
"Daredevil, also known as the Red Devil, I need you to come with me. You are under arrest for unregistered vigilante activity," a voice suddenly said, making both men turn at the same time.
Standing there was a man who should already be well known. Especially to people like them. Beneath his mask, an interested gaze could be felt.
"Frank Castle. I haven't seen you in quite a while," Owen said.
"Captain," Frank replied in a cold, serious tone, staring straight at Owen. Even so, a single drop of sweat ran down his face in the presence of that man.
"Oh, I got promoted to colonel. They wanted to give me more rank, but it was pointless for someone who already retired," Owen said calmly. "Well, since you're here too, you're under arrest as well," he added simply.
Frank's expression hardened completely. His face turned truly serious as he held Owen's gaze.
Then, suddenly, he raised his weapon and fired straight at Owen's head.
Owen moved in a red flash, effortlessly dodging the pellets, which did not even come close to touching him.
"Come on, Frank. Even when I was still just a regular soldier, you could barely touch me. Now… it's impossible," Owen said calmly, staring him down.