FLASHBACK – BLURRED AND BROKEN:
The engine of the truck roars as Adrian's fingers tighten on the wheel, knuckles white. The chaos outside is a storm of bullets and shouts.
"Run! Bobby! Cassie! Get the fuck out of here!"Adrian's voice is desperate, strained as he slams the pedal to the floor, swerving to avoid gunfire. But then — BANG — a searing pain rips through his left arm. He screams, one-handedly trying to steer as blood pours from the wound.
The Warden's mocking laugh pierces through the pain. Adrian's vision blurs, but he sees the man approaching, towering over him.
"You think you can just walk away from this, kid?" the Warden growls, a cruel grin stretching across his face.
Adrian can barely focus, but then his anger spikes. His fist clenches. "ONE HUNDRED PERCENT!"
With a roar, he punches the Warden square in the chest, sending him flying back, cracking the concrete beneath him with the impact. The force is enough to knock out all the breath in his lungs, but Adrian doesn't stop. His body is burning, his vision a haze of pain and adrenaline You really think that will stop me Adrian I will always come back.
NOW – UNKNOWN SAFEHOUSE:
Adrian's eyes flutter open, a sharp inhale of breath. His head feels like it's been hit by a freight train, and there's a dull ache everywhere. He blinks, trying to focus.
Both arms are in heavy casts. What the hell happened?
He pushes himself up, but the moment he tries to sit, pain shoots through his limbs. His face scrunches in frustration as he gasps.
"You wake up pretty quick, kid."
The voice, deep and gravelly, is not familiar. Adrian turns slowly. Standing in the doorway is a giant of a man, easily over six feet tall. His black t-shirt clings to his thick frame, and his cargo pants suggest he's always ready for a fight. His face is rough, hard with age, and his eyes — sharp, calculating.
He cracks open a beer can and takes a swig. "You should be out cold for at least a day, but here you are."
Adrian's eyes narrow. "Who the hell are you?"
The man shrugs casually, cracking his neck before tossing the can into the trash. "Shouldn't you be telling me your name first? After all, I did save your ass."
Adrian hesitates. His mind is cloudy, but he doesn't trust this stranger. Still, he's alive what he understand this guy save him. That means something.
"My name's Adrian. Adrian Zenith. I'm… twenty years old." His voice cracks slightly, trying to sound stronger than he feels.
The man raises an eyebrow, examining him. "You look a little too young to be twenty."
Adrian chuckles weakly. "Tell me about it."
The man steps closer, pulling a chair from the corner. He inspects Adrian's arms. "Yeah, I fixed up your arms. One of 'em was shot clean through to the elbow. Real nasty. The other one..." He pauses, eyes flicking to the ruined cast. "Looked like someone dropped a damn car on it. But somehow, you're healing. Fast. Too fast."
Adrian looks at his arms in disbelief. He hadn't realized how quickly his body was working to repair itself. His right arm doesn't feel as bad, but the left? It's still heavy, stiff.
"How the hell did I survive that?" Adrian mutters, voice low. He feels the burn in his chest from the memory of the fight.
The man drinks from another can of beer. "You heal fast. Faster than most. I'm no doctor, but that's definitely inhuman."
Adrian tenses at the word. "What the are you talking about?"
The man waves a hand dismissively, as if the conversation is nothing to him. "Don't worry, kid. I'm not one of those mutant-hating assholes." He pauses, narrowing his eyes. "You should be in a hospital, though."
Adrian sneers at the mention of a hospital. "Hell no. Last time I went to one, I ended up getting shot in the arm In get experimented like a lab rat. Ain't no way I'm going back to one of those places."
The man looks at him, intrigued. "The hell happened?"
Adrian doesn't want to get into it, but he's too tired to argue. "Long story... trust me, it's better if you don't ask."
The man grins, eyes gleaming. "Guess I should've asked first. You really don't want to know what the hell I've been through to get outta the army."
Adrian finally gathers the strength to ask. "So... what's your name?"
The man straightens up and gives a half-smile. "Frank Castle. But most people call me Frank."
Adrian's heart skips a beat. "Wait... you're... the Punisher?"
Frank stops. A flash of confusion crosses his face before he shakes it off, his grin never leaving. "That's a new one. Maybe you heard of me when I was in the military. That's where I made a name for myself."
Adrian's mind is spinning. Frank Castle? The Punisher? The name flashes through his head, but something's off. He's not dead. His family hasn't been killed yet. This Frank — he hasn't fallen off the deep end. Not yet.
"I think I've heard of you. You go around taking out criminals... 'punishing' them, right?" Adrian's voice is cautious.
Frank chuckles darkly, taking another swig of beer. "Don't get your hopes up, kid. I'm retiring in two months. No more punishing anyone after that."
Adrian freezes. Two months... That's when Frank's life falls apart. That's when everything changes.
Frank pats him on the back. "I can take you to the nearest city. You need to get your shit together."
Adrian nods. "Thanks... Mr. Frank."
Frank laughs, shaking his head. "Don't call me Mr. Frank. Makes me sound old as hell."
"Are you not old?"
"You got a mouth on you, kid." Frank smiles, though it's a grim one. "Come on, let's get going."
LATER – NEW YORK CITY
The truck comes to a halt. The door opens, and Adrian steps out into the concrete jungle that is New York City. His eyes widen, taking in the endless rows of skyscrapers, the flashing billboards, the crowds of people. Everything feels... massive. Overwhelming.
"First time in the city, kid?" Frank asks, leaning on the truck.
Adrian shakes his head, wide-eyed. "Yeah... it's huge."
Frank grunts. "Guessing you don't have a place to stay, huh?"
Adrian looks down at the ground. No. He doesn't.
Frank sighs, pulling out his wallet. "Alright, alright. I'll rent you a place for three months. After that, you're on your own, got it?"
Adrian's jaw drops. "Really? Even one month is more than enough."
Frank throws him a side-glance. "You need time to get your shit straight. Don't argue with me."
LATER – SMALL APARTMENT IN QUEENS
Frank drops Adrian off at the building. They walk through the quiet halls, past creaky doors.
"Here you go." Frank hands him a key. "I'll throw in the phone number. Don't go making it weird, alright? I don't need another kid trying to get me to babysit."
Adrian takes the key and the paper with the number on it. "Thanks, Frank. You've been a huge help."
Frank grins, his voice low and serious. "I'm just doing my job, kid. Just doing my job."
He close the door behind him, leaving Adrian alone.
ALONE – ADRIAN'S THOUGHTS
Adrian stare at the blank walls of the small apartment, a room that feels both alien and comforting. He glances around, wondering how long it'll take him to find Bobby and Cassie. The guilt is there — heavy in his chest.
I need to heal. I need to be stronger.
He moves into the center of the room, standing straight, closing his eyes. His body's aches still throb, but there's a buzz. A feeling.
"Let's try this." Frank said I fall down the cliff he said when he found me I have no other injury except my arm and rib cage
He focuses, pushing all his energy to his feet. The air feels different. Suddenly, his feet lift off the ground.
"Holy shit... I unlocked Float. The seventh user of One For All quirk." Adrian says under his breath, astonished.
But then panic sets in.
"Wait... how the hell do I turn this off—"
THUD. He crashes flat onto his face, the momentum from the float throwing him off-balance.
"Ow... my arm," he groans, struggling to get up.
Adrian slowly pushes himself to his feet. His arms still ache. But he's alive.
"I need to wait for my arms to heal. And I need to find Bobby and Cassie."