The Purple Man.
He was someone Nolan could never ignore.
Although Jessica Jones had known him long before Nolan ever appeared in her life, Nolan never forgot what was destined to happen that a man known as the Purple Man would one day destroy Jessica's future.
This time, Nolan had intervened early, cutting Killgrave off before he could fully ensnare her. By changing her path, he had already altered the course of the future.
But that didn't mean he could let the matter go.
It was precisely for this reason that Nolan had installed a subsystem of the Red Queen inside Jessica's detective agency. The AI kept constant watch, prepared to alert him the moment anything unusual happened.
And the effect had been remarkable.
Barely half a year had passed before Nolan came face-to-face with him the infamous Zebediah Killgrave.
Killgrave frowned slightly when their eyes met. Something about Nolan felt off. There was a strange weight in the young man's gaze, something not so easily dismissed. But Killgrave did not care. From the instant Nolan stepped through that door and into his presence, Killgrave believed the outcome had already been decided.
He had never lost.
Nolan showed no sign of fear. He tilted his head toward Jessica and called softly, "Jessica?"
She turned to him, her eyes dazed, yet recognition flickered there.
"Nolan? What are you doing here?"
Her memory was still intact, but her thoughts were tangled in Killgrave's influence.
Nolan couldn't help but chuckle.
"Sweetheart, you do realize you've been kidnapped by the man sitting right next to you, don't you?"
Jessica shook her head firmly. "Zebediah? That's impossible. He's my friend."
Her words rang with conviction, as if the idea of doubting Killgrave was absurd.
Nolan laughed again, this time bitterly.
"Give it a little time," he said. "Soon you won't be calling him that."
His gaze shifted to Killgrave. Nolan's expression grew sharp, his tone calm but laced with steel.
"I came here today to kill someone. Can you guess who?"
Killgrave blinked, then burst into laughter. His eyes gleamed coldly.
"You? Kill me? Boy, no one in this world has ever managed such a thing. If you don't believe me, by all means try."
As he spoke, invisible pheromones spread into the air, carrying the insidious command of his will. Nolan should have collapsed into submission then and there.
But instead, Nolan smiled.
"Since you insist, I'll take you up on that."
In the next instant, he moved.
Faster than the eye could follow, his right hand shot forward and clamped around Killgrave's throat.
The Purple Man's eyes widened in shock. He hadn't even had time to react.
"How how are you not under my control?" Killgrave choked, his face twisting in panic.
Nolan's lips curled upward in a cold grin.
"I've been waiting for this moment for a year."
With a sharp squeeze, he crushed the man's windpipe. Killgrave's body jerked once, then went limp.
Dead.
Nolan had killed with his own hands.
He drew back, staring at his palm as a strange calm washed over him. So this was what power felt like.
But there was no time to savor it.
Jessica's fist came flying at him, her eyes blazing with fury.
Even though Killgrave was dead, his pheromones lingered, leaving him enshrined in Jessica's mind as her most trusted friend. And now, Nolan had just murdered him.
How could she forgive that?
Nolan didn't dodge.
Their fists collided with a thunderous crack.
The impact drove Nolan back several steps, while Jessica remained standing tall. The difference in raw strength was obvious.
But he had withstood her blow.
And that was enough.
The serum had worked.
After countless sleepless nights, Nolan had finally completed his own version of the Super Soldier Serum.
It wasn't perfect. Unlike the original, it couldn't elevate the body to its absolute peak, and it lacked the brilliance of Erskine's legendary formula. But it carried no crippling side effects, and it was enough to give Nolan the strength he needed.
That was all that mattered.
Without hesitation, he pressed a control on his wrist.
In an instant, the compact exosuit on his back burst open and unfolded around him. Within seconds, Nolan was encased in sleek, reinforced armor.
Flexing his hands inside the gauntlets, he grinned.
It had been a long time since he'd stretched his muscles.
"Jessica," he called, "let's see how round two goes."
Then he lunged.
His armored fist slammed into her midsection, sending her crashing through a table. Before she could rise, Nolan was already on her, pinning her down in a familiar grapple.
She struggled, cursing him, but he bound her wrists with practiced ease.
All around them lay the wreckage of the café splintered wood, shattered glass, and the corpse of Killgrave sprawled across the floor.
Nolan sat back, his expression calm.
The Purple Man?
He had never been more than a shadow to him. Now, he was nothing.
Still, Nolan couldn't shake the sensation that unseen eyes were watching. Somewhere, someone was observing this battle. But no matter how he searched, he couldn't pinpoint the source.
The sound of police sirens soon broke the silence.
Moments later, a squad of officers arrived. Leading them was New York City's own Police Commissioner, George Stacy.
Taking in the scene, Stacy pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Mr. Lock," he said heavily, "you're in serious trouble."
These were the kinds of cases he despised most the bloody fallout of wealthy elites.
Especially when one of them had just killed a man with his bare hands.
Nolan looked at him evenly.
"Trouble? I don't think so. Honestly, I'd say I just did the city a favor."
Stacy's face darkened. "You killed someone."
"No," Nolan replied calmly. "I killed a parasite. And sooner or later, society will thank me for it."
Stacy's eyes narrowed. This wasn't the first time he had dealt with Nolan Lock. Last time, there had only been suspicion. But tonight, there was no doubt. The young man really had killed.
And with his own hands.
Meanwhile, Nolan kept Jessica restrained. Killgrave's chemical control would eventually fade, but until then, she raged against him, spitting curses that cut deeper than fists.
Nolan only shrugged. Let her scream. Words wouldn't harm him.
Still, a dark thought lingered.
I saved your future, and this is how you repay me? Tonight, you'll regret every insult.
Once the haze cleared, she would be mortified by what she had done. Nolan almost looked forward to her embarrassment.
"Take him in," Stacy finally ordered, rubbing his temples in exhaustion.
And so, Nolan was escorted away in handcuffs.
From the shadow of a nearby alley, a figure watched silently. His eyes locked on Nolan until the police car disappeared into the night.
"So Nolan Lock is no longer ordinary," the man murmured. "Perhaps it's time to make my move."
With that, he slipped into the darkness.
…
Back at the precinct, Nolan sat comfortably, showing no sign of concern. He didn't believe for a second that George Stacy had the power or the courage to truly hold him.
Soon enough, the door opened, and a man stepped inside.
"Good evening. I'm Morrison Clyde, your defense attorney."
Nolan narrowed his eyes.
"I've never heard of you."
Of course he hadn't. Nolan had his own team of lawyers, and this stranger was not among them.
Clyde smiled faintly.
"That's not important. What matters is this you're facing a murder charge. Without intervention, you could be looking at three to five years behind bars."
Nolan scoffed.
"Don't make me laugh. Tonight, I'll be sleeping in my own bed."
Clyde's expression didn't change.
"No. Not unless I allow it."
The words made Nolan's gaze sharpen.
"Then tell me who you really are, and what you want. Otherwise, you won't be walking out of this room."
Clyde leaned forward, his smile thin and unsettling.
"Years ago, your father received our assistance in building Lock Technologies. He signed an agreement with us. Perhaps you'd like to see it."
He slid a document across the table.
Nolan skimmed it, his expression darkening.
At length, he set it down and said coldly, "Whatever my father signed has nothing to do with me. The Lock Technologies of today is not the same company it was back then. That agreement is meaningless."
Clyde's eyes gleamed with something cold and cruel.
"You don't understand, Nolan. We are the deepest shadow in this world, the ones who rule from the dark. Your father was nothing more than our puppet. But after you were born, he developed foolish ideas of his own.
"He forgot one truth: once you join Hydra, there is no leaving. Not for one man, not for one generation. When Lock Technologies fell, and your father died in that so-called accident, it was no coincidence.
"And now, it's your turn."
He pushed another document across the table.
"This is your contract. You have only two choices: sign it… or die."
But as he spoke, he failed to notice the look in Nolan's eyes colder and sharper than his own.
"So that's how it is," Nolan whispered.
He had always suspected his father's death was no ordinary accident. Charles had lied to him countless times, but on this, at least, he hadn't been wrong.
Nolan never expected the truth to be this twisted.
It turned out… he was the son of Hydra.
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