Chapter 22
Matsu'o Tsurayaba stood before an army of a thousand. All were killers, but far from all were masters. Only about thirty percent had mastered the art of the Shadow Ocean; the others were simply experienced soldiers, skilled in taking life, nothing more. In normal times, they would have been equipped with firearms, but going into New York where Magneto might be present was unwise.
Lady Bullseye was also there, standing off to the side, alone. Always acting on her own.
Transporting such a horde by ordinary means would have been impossible, but with the Shard of the Shadow Realm, the task was simplified. At Matsu'o's command, the entire army stepped into the shadows beneath their feet.
Their army materialized from the shadows in the woods a few kilometers from New York. Teleporting directly into the city was impossible. It was protected not only by the Ancient One's barrier, which cut off demonic forces, but also by a second, more specific barrier—the barrier of the Chaste.
Matsu'o looked into the distance at the city's silhouette. For most of his ninja soldiers, there was nothing there but the lights of the metropolis. But Matsu'o, using Chi in his eyes, saw the true defense. The city was ringed by an invisible wall that, to his heightened sight, glowed with an unbearably bright, golden light. Those who did not possess Chi would never see this obstacle.
"The Evil-Banishing barrier," he said, addressing the golden radiance in the distance. "They are ready."
He was not surprised. Stick, the leader of the Chaste, had reached incredible heights in the mastery of Chi. He could enter the Earth's information field, reading the data of occurring events. Such a massive maneuver as the mobilization of the entire Hand could not escape his attention. Matsu'o himself possessed this technique, but using it required thirty days of continuous meditation—a luxury the head of the Hand could rarely afford.
"The time has come," Matsu'o said and threw the Shard of the Shadow Realm onto the ground.
The stone touched the soil, and darkness began to spread from it like an ink blot. It grew, rising like an impenetrable wall, curving into a dome that reached into the sky and covered all of New York.
The result was a kind of "onion" of barriers. The first layer was the Ancient One's shield, cutting off demons. The second was the Chaste's barrier, blocking the Hand. And the third, outer layer, became the Shadow Realm itself. It did not cancel the other shields but simply enclosed them within itself, augmenting reality.
Inside this dark Sphere, the power of the Hand increased manifold. Shadow techniques, speed, endurance—everything was amplified. And night vision gave them an absolute advantage.
Ordinary residents of New York, immersed in their own affairs, noticed nothing. Well, almost all of them.
---
A couple walking through Central Park stopped. The girl raised her head.
"Strange... Weren't there stars in the sky just a second ago?"
Her companion laughed, boasting about being a purebred New Yorker. "Ha-ha, don't make me laugh. You could never see stars in New York. Are you from the countryside or something?"
She pushed him away and walked off. "Jerk."
He hurried after her, shouting apologies.
---
At the same time, Diego lay on a cot on the roof of a laundry. The world seemed gray again; the initial thrill from investigations and writing the article had passed, leaving behind his usual apathy. He lay there, mechanically tossing the inhaler Stark had given him in his hand, looking at the sky. Even through the city's light pollution, a couple of the brightest stars could sometimes be made out here.
And then they were gone.
"What the hell is that?" he said aloud, peering into the impenetrable darkness overhead.
---
In his windowless office, Nick Fury was preparing to watch the interview that was supposed to change the world. Pierce's death was both a victory and a defeat. Hydra had lost its head but had taken the names of its agents to the grave. The threat in the form of Zola continued to stress him; even after their leader's death, nothing had fundamentally changed. He was still there, but doing nothing. Fury looked irritably at an ordinary paper notebook covered in his jagged handwriting. Those who were in particularly close relationships with Pierce had to be identified the old-fashioned way and written down with a pencil, literally. The director of the most technologically advanced intelligence agency in the world was forced to work like an analyst in the forties.
However, not everything was bad. Fury wasn't angry at the mutants for the loss of Pierce; Xavier had taken care of that by showing him a mental imprint of the battle with the crimson monster. But the Stark inhaler, Fury took back. Technology based on Kilgrave's power was too valuable.
The newly minted Sentinels would do whatever Fisk told them as long as it remained within the bounds of their moral principles. If their help was needed by Fury personally, he would be obliged to consult with Xavier first.
At that moment, Coulson rushed into the office. In his hand, he held a modified phone without a microphone or camera. They couldn't completely abandon technology, after all.
"Sir, New York is gone."
Fury slowly raised his single eye. "You've been overworking, Coulson. We're sitting right in it."
Phil silently handed him the phone. On the screen was a real-time satellite map of the East Coast. In the place where the giant light halo of the metropolis should have been shining, there was an absolutely black hole.
"Barton, get to the roof immediately and report the situation," Fury said.
Hawkeye left the office and returned in less than a minute.
"We have a problem. The city is covered by a barrier from the outside. It glows so brightly it hurts to look at; it looks like pure Chi, and of the highest level. And over it is a sphere of darkness, as if we've been covered by a bell jar. And I get the feeling this darkness isn't cutting us off from the world, but rather, bringing something in."
Coulson confirmed the observation. "According to all data, we aren't cut off from the world. City networks are normal. All means of communication and electricity are working."
Fury sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. "As always, at the most crucial moment, everything goes off script. Find out who's behind this. And give support to those on our side."
Barton nodded and left. Fury leaned back and lit a cigar.
"What the hell is going on here?"
---
Stick stood motionless at the edge of the golden barrier, listening to the silence of the night forest. He didn't look like the old man people were used to seeing in the city. Right now, he was a man in his forties, strongly built—the optimal form for the upcoming battle. After all, when someone reaches his level of Chi mastery, the body becomes merely a tool that can be tuned.
His comrades were beside him. Stone, a two-meter giant whose shaved head and heavy prayer beads around his neck gave him the look of a warrior-monk. Shaft, the eternal mocker, dressed in his invariable green hood with a yew bow behind his back. And Flame, who stood a bit further away, completely naked. His Chi fire-manipulation technique was unique but had not yet reached perfection: his aura was so hot that it singed any fabric and had long ago burned away all the hair on his body.
"Are you sure they'll come specifically here?" Shaft asked, rubbing his bowstring.
"Yes," Stick replied without turning his head. His blind eyes seemed to see the black Shadow Sphere covering the city. "This barrier is tied to the four of us. Until at least one dies, it will not fall. The Hand knows this."
Shaft squinted, directing Chi into his eyes. His vision pierced through miles of darkness.
"Well, look at that," he whistled. "One, two... there are hundreds of them. A whole thousand of these shadow mutts. Wow. I've never seen them gather everyone in one place. Isn't this great? Our chance to finally get rid of this infection. But for the life of me, I don't understand why take such a risk?"
"They believe that mutants are the pillar upon which a new world will be built," Stick answered, focusing on the approaching threat. "They believe that if they manage to destroy these 'harbingers of change,' the balance will be upset, and they will be able to plunge the world into darkness."
"Is that so?" Stone suddenly spoke up.
"It's entirely possible. The Hand realizes that time is working against them. If they kill the mutants later, when they've already integrated into society and gained public support, the world will perceive them as innocent lambs. Their deaths will only cause sympathy, and others will take their place. But if they strike now, when the line between fear and war is already too thin, they can provoke the very chaos they crave. They need this war. That is why they are here, with all their strength; this is their best chance. If they don't succeed today, who knows how much longer they'll have to wait. And one more thing: if reinforcements arrive here, do not let Matsu'o touch them."
Flame cracked his neck, and tiny sparks ran across his skin from the movement.
"Wonderful. Not only do we have to fend off a whole pack of freaks, but we also have to babysit clumsy allies? Tsk-tsk."
Even without Chi-enhanced vision, the moving mass could already be distinguished in the darkness of the forest. The army of darkness was running toward them.