The Weight of the Law
Frank Castle, who now went by the alias Punisher, a title that had not been chosen by him but rather given by his enemies, or at least those who had survived, stared at the man standing in front of him with an intimidating air. One that seemed capable of unsettling even a bloodthirsty man who never hesitated when it came to killing criminals. This time, however, it was different. It felt as if he were being watched by a transcendent being, one that could kill him with a single movement of his hand.
The red aura surrounding Owen released a trace of heat that seemed to pierce the skin with ease, and even though Frank's body felt frozen under that gaze, he could not help letting out a faint smile filled with bloodlust.
"I see you're still a government dog, even now," Frank said, his tone lightly mocking.
"Is that what you think?" Owen asked, sounding amused.
Then, without warning, he took a step and vanished in a red flash, reappearing instantly right in front of Frank, his hand moving dangerously close to his face.
But Frank still had his shotgun in hand, and the reflexes of an experienced soldier remained intact. He pulled the trigger as if he had already anticipated Owen's move. He ducked, easily avoiding the pellets, while Owen's fist drove straight toward Frank's stomach.
Before striking him, Owen saw everything in slow motion; a grenade, its pin removed, falling from Frank's hand. He had pulled it free using the inertia of the shotgun blast, releasing it with his thumb when his hand was forced backward.
Owen smiled faintly at the former soldier's reflexes, recognizing something familiar in them. They were not so far removed from those of a superhuman, reflexes forged only through constant combat.
He caught the grenade in midair and casually tossed it behind him. Then he struck Frank in the stomach, forcing all the air from his lungs before he collapsed unconscious to the ground. The explosion echoed behind Owen seconds later.
All of it happened in just a few seconds, far too fast for anyone who was not him.
Daredevil remained completely frozen in place, gripping his baton tightly.
"Well, I'm not a fan of hitting disabled people, but I need to do it," Owen said, looking toward the Red Devil.
He repeated the same movement, vanishing and reappearing in front of him, his hand pointed directly at his face, this time fully engulfed in red aura.
Daredevil rolled quickly to the side to evade. His ears caught an explosion even stronger than the previous grenade, coming from the factory where the mobsters had gathered moments earlier.
He also heard the structure beginning to collapse around them, desperate screams rising from within. It confused him for an instant; too many overlapping sounds, crossing vibrations, and echoes that his senses failed to organize in time.
That instant was enough.
A direct blow to the chin knocked him unconscious, sending him crashing to the ground without resistance.
Owen looked at the two unconscious men before turning his gaze toward the factory destroyed by his strike. Even he could hear the screams of the criminals trapped beneath the rubble. At that moment, a flying suit descended above him, observing the same scene.
"So these are the innocent civilians who got caught in a battle between heroes?" Tony said, his tone clearly sarcastic as he pronounced the word innocent.
"Just change a few notes, say they were workers or something like that. Oh, and arrest everyone. It's easier to pass them off as dead that way," Owen said as he effortlessly lifted Matt Murdock. "By the way, take this one. I'll let a few spectators see their beloved hero of Hell's Kitchen getting arrested," he added.
"Seriously? Why don't we switch tasks? Mine looks a lot more annoying," Tony said tiredly.
"Do you really want to face every hero in the world while I sit back and watch with a soda?" Owen replied, sounding amused.
"Ahem. If I had time to build armors to counter every single one of them… you know what, this is less annoying," Tony said before getting to work. "Oh, right. I forgot to mention it. The DODC has the Winter Soldier," he added before Owen walked away.
"How long have they had him?" Owen asked.
"A week, maybe. I don't remember. Possibly even since the same day you arrived," Tony replied, as if it barely mattered.
"I see," Owen said, falling silent for a moment, as if thinking. "What about the Cap?" he asked.
"Pretty quiet lately, just like the Avengers," Tony added.
Noticing the faint smile forming on Owen's face, Tony frowned beneath his helmet.
"Looks like we can speed up several steps," Owen said before turning away and vanishing in a red flash.
…
Meanwhile, inside a set of offices that seemed to have received far more funding than they had before, everything was in the middle of a large-scale restructuring. People moved back and forth everywhere, busy with their tasks, paperwork, and orders, trying to impose order within the administrative chaos.
Among them, a woman walked with hurried steps, her expression cold and authoritative. She stopped in front of an office door, hesitated for a second, and knocked before waiting for permission from inside.
It did not take long.
"Come in."
The moment she heard those words, she entered quickly. Inside, a man continued reviewing documents, clearly absorbed in his work. Dark circles marked his eyes, the result of accumulated exhaustion.
"Sadie, again…", the man said with a tired sigh. "What do you want now?" he asked without lifting his gaze too much.
"Sir, you can't allow this," she said immediately.
The man stopped what he was doing and looked at her for a moment before rubbing the bridge of his nose. "And what exactly? There are too many things happening right now. Is this about the new fridge for the break room or what?" he asked, his tone clearly irritated, as if dealing with her had become a constant nuisance.
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about, sir. Barnes. The transfer. The DODC caught him, he has to—".
Before she could continue, the chief raised his hand to stop her.
"How many prisoners do we have right now?" he asked suddenly.
The question caught Sadie off guard. "Twenty, sir?" she replied, uncertain.
"And how many guards do we have to keep an eye on those twenty supers?" he asked again.
"I don't know," she answered.
"We only have three guards, because the new ones haven't arrived yet," he said, his tone harsh and clearly worn down. "Do you know what happens when a new law is launched without having the entire structure ready? Yes, they built a nice building for those who register. But for the illegals we have to arrest…", he paused briefly, visibly irritated. "They, at VITAE, created a perfect prison to contain superpowers. VITAE, which is supposed to be humanitarian aid, has a better prison than we do."
His voice rose.
"And do you know why? Because idiots like you keep arresting anyone who shows a special ability. A guy shows up who can stretch his damn tongue and you go after him for a whole week. His tongue. How dangerous is that? Can he lick you until you melt like a popsicle?" he shouted, clearly angry.
Then he took a deep breath, barely holding himself back.
"If the damn VITAE, the ones doing the job we're supposed to be doing, want the damn Barnes, then let them take him," he said immediately.
"But, sir—".
"They're taking him," he cut her off. "In fact, here's the document approving the transfer. I'm signing it right now," he said as he pulled out a folder and signed it quickly right in front of Sadie's face.
"That Owen Colt is planning something strange. That girl he saved is the same one who—".
The chief raised his hand again to silence her.
"Right now, Owen is the most beloved hero by the entire government. Thanks to him, registrations of people with powers keep increasing. So it's better if you stop bothering me and get back to work," he said irritably. "If you want, you can join the prisoner transfer, but nothing more."
He waved her away dismissively and returned to his documents.
Sadie glared at him in silence for a few seconds before turning around and leaving, visibly furious.
"Damn him. That damn bastard will pay for this," she muttered, her hatred directed squarely at Owen.
Even so, if Owen ever saw her, he wouldn't even remember her.