Night had fallen over the city, darkness creeping between buildings and spilling across streets. Neon signs flickered to life in response, painting everything in electric colors.
On a busy street in Harlem, a French restaurant gleamed like a jewel box. Its elegant, luxurious decor attracted a steady stream of diners.
The ceiling was the first thing to catch the eye upon entering. Clearly designed by someone with expensive tastes and the budget to match. Between sculptures and statues of historical figures, crystal chandeliers hung on long chains, each one glittering with hundreds of facets that cast rainbows across the walls.
Below that brilliant display, waiters in crisp black shirts moved between tables with practiced grace. Their movements were smooth, almost choreographed, and several of them were conventionally handsome enough to draw appreciative glances from guests of both genders.
But in a corner booth, far from the restaurant's bustling center, Nolan sat with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was somewhere between amused and exasperated.
Across from him, his aunt was engaged in what could only be described as combat with a large lobster. She'd abandoned all pretense of proper table manners and was tearing into the shellfish with single-minded determination.
Nolan sighed, the sound heavy with resignation.
"Aunt," he said carefully, "could you maybe slow down? I'm not worried about paying the bill. I'm worried you're going to choke to death."
His aunt's head snapped up, her chin shiny with butter. She tried to open her eyes wide in an expression of innocence, but the effect was ruined by her flushed face and the shrimp meat bulging in her cheeks.
She chewed frantically, trying to swallow enough to speak. Finally, in a voice muffled by food, she managed: "This is all from your filial piety! I'm just making sure nothing goes to waste!"
The excuse was so transparently ridiculous that Nolan couldn't help but lean forward, ready to tease her about it.
Then the world exploded.
The ground heaved violently, a seismic shock that rattled through the building's foundation. Somewhere in the distance, growing rapidly closer, came a tremendous roar.
Every light in the restaurant died simultaneously. Darkness slammed down like a physical weight.
The crystal chandeliers, those expensive beautiful things, began to sway. Then they fell. One after another, they crashed to the floor in explosions of shattered crystal that sounded like breaking ice.
The guests barely had time to process what was happening before screams erupted from the street outside. Pedestrians ran past the windows in blind panic, their faces twisted with terror. Whatever they'd seen had driven all rational thought from their minds.
Nolan was already moving.
His expression had gone cold and hard. He surged up from his seat with enough force to send his chair crashing backward.
In three quick strides, he reached his aunt's side. His arms, thick with enhanced muscle barely contained by his athletic wear, scooped her up from her chair with casual ease.
"Hey, Nolan, what—" His aunt's confused protest cut off as Nolan straightened.
He stood in the darkened restaurant, lit only by emergency lights that cast everything in sickly green. Around them, other guests panicked. Some screamed. Others ran blindly, colliding with furniture and each other.
Nolan's entire bearing had changed. Gone was the relaxed young man treating his aunt to dinner. In his place stood something else. Someone else. A warrior preparing for combat.
"David!" His voice cut through the chaos with absolute clarity. "Report current situation and calculate nearest evacuation route!"
From his pocket, David's mechanical voice emerged, tinny but distinct.
"My lord, five hundred meters from your position, a humanoid entity approximately three meters in height is engaged in indiscriminate slaughter and property destruction. Calculating... Evacuation route determined. Proceed through the restaurant's kitchen to access the rear alley. Seven meters from the back exit, there is a sewer entrance connecting to a newly excavated underground passage. I am currently conducting repairs in that sector and am proceeding to your location to assist."
Nolan didn't waste time acknowledging. He was already moving, his aunt secure on his shoulder.
She'd stopped struggling. Smart woman. She'd recognized that this wasn't the time for questions.
He charged toward the kitchen, moving with purpose through the darkness.
"Move! Get out of the way!"
The dim light made navigation difficult. Nolan collided with several unfortunate guests who hadn't gotten clear fast enough, sending them sprawling. He couldn't afford to care about their feelings. Not now. Not with his aunt's safety on the line.
He burst through the kitchen doors and kept going, finding the rear exit and slamming it open.
The back alley was deserted, quiet in a way that felt wrong after the chaos inside.
Nolan finally let himself breathe properly, tension easing slightly from his shoulders.
Then came another massive roar, this one accompanied by the distinctive whump of an explosion. Orange-red fire bloomed into the sky, visible even from the alley. The heat of it touched Nolan's face even from this distance.
Seconds later, the screaming intensified. The sounds coming from the street were inhuman. Primal. The sounds of people experiencing the absolute worst moments of their lives.
"Is this..." His aunt's voice was small, trembling. "Is this a war?"
The half-eaten lobster she'd been clutching fell from her fingers, hitting the ground and rolling into shadow. She didn't seem to notice.
Nolan felt her shaking on his shoulder, small tremors running through her body.
"It's okay, Aunt," he said quietly, forcing calm into his voice. "This is nothing. Small problem. We're going to be fine."
His eyes swept the ground, searching. There. A manhole cover, exactly where David had indicated.
He crossed to it in quick strides and carefully set his aunt down on her feet.
Then he crouched, wedged his fingers into the gap between cover and pavement, and lifted.
The heavy cast iron disc came up as easily as a dinner plate. Nolan's enhanced strength made the impossible look effortless.
Immediately, a wave of stench rolled up from below. Sour. Pungent. The accumulated filth of years mixing with stagnant water and decay.
Nolan's nose wrinkled involuntarily. For a moment, he doubted David's navigation. This couldn't be right.
Then, from within the darkness below, blue light pulsed. David's optical sensors.
"My lord, I have arrived."
Relief flooded through Nolan. He exhaled sharply and turned to his aunt.
She stood frozen, staring at the open manhole with wide eyes. Confusion, fear, and disbelief warred across her face.
"Aunt," Nolan said, his tone brooking no argument. "You're going down first."
Maybe it was his voice, the absolute certainty in it. Maybe it was the ongoing screams from the street, getting closer. Maybe it was simply trust in her nephew who'd somehow grown into this strong, capable stranger.
Whatever the reason, his aunt's face set with determination. Her slightly rounded chin lifted. She took one deep breath, steeling herself.
Then she jumped into the sewer without hesitation.
Nolan watched her fall. Blue light illuminated her descent. David's metal arms reached up and caught her smoothly, setting her down gently in the passage below.
Only then did Nolan truly relax. His aunt was safe. That was what mattered.
He rolled his neck, working out some of the tension. Then he looked back toward the street one last time.
Smoke rose in columns. Fire painted the underside of those smoke clouds. And somewhere in that chaos, something was killing people.
Nolan's expression hardened into something cold and dangerous.
But not tonight. Tonight, his priority was getting his aunt somewhere secure.
He swung his legs over the edge and dropped into the darkness below, pulling the manhole cover back into place behind him. The metal settled with a heavy clang, cutting off the sounds of destruction above.