Chapter 15- Contact

That night, I went right back to Hell's Kitchen. The power source for my lair was almost complete. There were just a couple of things to adjust, and an initial input of energy needed. After that, the thing would run for a couple of years before needing any more work. I was excited.

I landed on the shore of Manhattan and walked the rest of the way to Hell's Kitchen. I was already thinking about what I would make once I had power up. A personal shield generator like Zarya had was pretty high on the list. So was a sword like Genji's, Ryu Ichimonji. And then there was Symmetra's photon projector. Having one of those permanently would be very useful. Or I could make a hoverboard using whatever people in Overwatch put on their cars. That would be fun. There were many possibilities. I had enough supplies (thanks, Justin Hammer!) to last me a good number of projects before I would have to do another order/raid.

Lost in thoughts and dreams of what could be, I was not paying much attention to my surroundings. I didn't notice anything until I heard a rough voice come from close behind me.

"Hey kid, what are you doing out so late? Didn't your parents tell you it's dangerous to be out alone at night?"

I turned around, already tired of this guy. He sounded like the average thug from TV. Trying hard to be intimidating. Looking at him, he looked the part too. Scruffy, wearing a jacket and a skull cap, and a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth as he looked down his nose at me. Just a bully looking to score some lunch money off a kid. Realizing again that I am a ten-year-old kid, my exasperation deepened- as I was just showing a hoodie and jeans, and clearly a kid, how much money did he think he was going to get off of me?

"Now's not a good time, man. I've got somewhere I need to be."

"Well that's good, kid, then we can make this fast," he said as he grabbed my collar and pushed my back against a tree on the sidewalk. Now that he was this close, I caught a whiff of his breath and really wished I hadn't. The alcohol and smoke coming off him was unbelievable, in that I couldn't believe his cigarette hadn't ignited his breath. With this smell, his threat level both jumped and sank. Jumped because it was more likely he would try to fight me and prove himself a threat; and sank because even with my few months of training, I should be more than capable of disabling a drunk man.

Stinky kept talking up a decent game of threats as I zoned out. I looked behind him. There were two other guys stepping out of the alley watching with amused looks on their faces. Stinky's drinking buddies, I guessed. I calmly pondered the best course of action while he continued his spiel about how scary a dude he was. Like, wow, man.

Suddenly I felt a presence come from behind the tree. Immediately following this a fist came out of nowhere and flew into his face. Stinky took a tumble to the ground, and his drinking buddies had a mixture of sympathetic winces and amused looks.

"Why don't you leave the kid alone, and go back to your drinks," came a man's voice from behind me. I froze. I knew that voice. Turning around, I confirmed my suspicions.

It was Agent Phil Coulson. Thinking about it, it made sense. I had made a fair amount of noise here, and SHIELD had to send someone to investigate. I wished it was Black Widow, but I guess I hadn't presented myself as a threat. Which was probably a good thing. But it still would have been nice to meet her so early.

Oh well. Guess I would have to wait a few years.

After a moment of thought, as the drinkers backed off from me and Coulson, I realized that I was lucky. SHIELD had sent someone I knew. It could have been Agent #123, but I got Coulson. It was a lot better to be investigated by someone I could recognize as the person who was investigating me.

Actually, now it occurred to me that SHIELD was moving fairly quickly. I guess we never did learn much about how SHIELD found powered people. Well, if they were going to find any and all of them, they would need to track down any and everything suspicious, wouldn't they?

The three drinkers walked off, deciding that it was better to not mess with Coulson. Just to be clear, I had the situation well in hand even without Resonance. Coulson just beat me to the punch.

"Shouldn't you be going home? It's-"

"Dangerous out at night," I finished for him. Oddly, I had managed to go for a while now without having that told to me. I guess most people didn't care. "How about you? You just like walking around at night in a suit to punch people in the face?"

"I just don't like people that pick on kids. Especially ones that are what, ten?"

"Hey, I'm almost eleven."

"Right. Kid, just go home, it's better that way."

"Hey, I can take care of myself, I had that covered. I know kung fu. Besides, I have stuff to do."

"Really? What kind of stuff?"

"Same as you."

Coulson looked a little surprised and confused. "What do you think I'm here for?"

"You're here about Overwatch."

"Over what?"

"You're a cop, right? You have that air about you. And you professionally punched out a guy for justice. Not to mention, you did it while wearing a suit. Very Men in Black. And-"

"Wait, kid, slow down. What are you talking about?"

"Conclusion: you are from a shadowy government agency investigating the rumors of Hell's Kitchen." I paused, enjoying the barely concealed disbelief on Coulson's face.