Aftermath of The Silent Stage

A helicopter hovered over the scene of devastation, its news camera recording the carnage below. What had once been quiet streets now littered the bodies of the fallen mutants, their blood and charred remains an easy mark even from high above. Not too far away, the emergency vehicles were conglomerated; light flashing, in an attempt to somehow normalize this chaotic situation. Standing at the edge of that chaos, in a line, were figures: the X-Men silent and taut, watching the aftermath.

Meanwhile, live footage of the scene was fed directly to an innumerable number of viewers, filling the screen from end to end. On one of the highly viewed news programs, the anchorwoman, her face knitted in concern, described the unfolding calamity.

Well, we're flying over what looks like one extremely destructive battle in downtown New York. What you are seeing now are unimaginable acts of violence, with several on the ground casualties. The authorities have yet to make an official statement, but we know that several mutants took part, some affiliated with the Brotherhood involved in the attack.

The camera then zoomed closer to the already injured being tended to in the ambulance, faces strained by the medics on. The seriousness laced her voice, as she continued.

"Eyewitness reports indicate this was initially some sort of confrontation between two opposing mutant factions, but it is not only the Brotherhood. We are receiving unconfirmed reports that the X-Men themselves have just arrived on the scene, apparently in some effort to intervene." She stopped looking unnerved. We cannot determine the full extent of the casualties, but from what we can gather, it's catastrophic. It certainly is a dark day both for human and mutant relations; once again, there is another case of violence on our city streets.

Her tone turned to one of concern and fear. "There are growing questions about the identity of the person behind such horrific acts of violence. Early footage shows what some are describing as a masked figure with strange abilities. Authorities urge all citizens to avoid the area."

The camera panned out as the broadcast continued to show the X-Men standing near the glowing remains of the barrier that had enclosed the area. Without a word, they stood grimly, taking in the scene in complete silence, knowing full well this was far from over.

The anchorwoman's voice echoed what many were silently fearing. "What we see here could be a new level of mutant warfare. Who is this masked figure? And is this continued violence? Stay with us as we update this unfolding tragedy."

The grim-faced figure stood silently before the large screen inside the helicarrier, his arms crossed while he watched the live feed of the news helicopter, which hovered above the wreckage. The chaos on the ground, the disarray of burned and broken bodies, painted a picture-violence, destruction. His jaw tightened with frustration and calculation running through his mind.

Another incident, another mess. The involvement of the Brotherhood was expected, but what the hell happened here? The thoughts circled in his mind while the camera zoomed in on the bodies of the fallen mutants. The X-Men were present, too, but it didn't have the appearance of their kind of a mess.

The sound of the door sliding open broke his focus. A woman stepped inside, her posture sharp and professional—Maria Hill. She walked toward him with her usual no-nonsense demeanor, a tablet in hand.

"Report," he said, not looking away from the screen.

Maria Hill halted beside him, her eyes on the footage too. "Sir, we've been monitoring the situation closely. The Brotherhood was involved in some kind of standoff. We believe it was an ambush gone wrong. But there's more. "

He turned slightly, his eyebrow raised in silent prompting.

"All surrounding cameras in view, traffic, CCTV, even private security systems-offline during the important parts of the fight. We have no shots of the dead mutants and the actual time of attack. It's as if the whole incident was erased from every angle. No electric device recorded a thing at the time of killings."

'So, no eyes on the ground at all? Someone's covering their tracks.' Tension filled the room. He narrowed his eye, his frustration brewing. "So, you're telling me we have nothing? Not even a lead on who or what caused this?"

Maria Hill met his gaze, her tone even. "That's what it seemed like at first, but we've still managed to gather pieces of intelligence in the aftermath. We know it wasn't just the Brotherhood causing chaos. Someone interfered. The witness reports from the civilians speak of a masked figure in the middle of carnage, controlling some of the mutants, possibly using some sort of power.

'A masked figure? This isn't typical Brotherhood behavior. and who the hell is powerful enough to control mutants like that?' He scowled, turning away from the screen to face her. "And who is this masked figure? What do we know?"

Maria Hill took a moment longer before calling up a data point on her tablet: "We didn't have much initially, but after digging through some recent intel reports and cross-referencing power usage, we've managed to narrow down a name."

He raised his eyebrow again, intrigued yet impatient.

The man scanned the name on the tablet, his jaw clenching in. Silence. the mercenary. He remembered the chaos caused in New York just a couple of weeks ago-two weeks of pure mayhem, bodies piling up, the authorities scrambling. He had written it off at that time as just another mercenary on a rush, high on the blood and chaos of the underworld.

He had noted Silence back then, in his mind, the part where the name would usually be assigned to join the ranks of other people's names relegated to insignificance in his brain, like so many before them.

But this. this was something else altogether.

'So, he's more than just another trigger-happy freelancer.' His mind raced as he connected the dots. The precision, the control over the battlefield, the way he had wiped out every trace of evidence except for the broken bodies left behind. This wasn't just some random act of violence—it was calculated.

That fact slowly began to sink in, and the look on Fury's face started to cloud. This wasn't someone they could dismiss anymore. "Looks like Silence just became more than a footnote," he growled low in his throat. "We're going to need to keep a much closer eye on this one."

Maria Hill looked over at him, acknowledging the shift in his tone. "What's the plan, sir?"

Fury handed her back the tablet, his mind already racing with what came next. "We find out exactly what he's up to-and why."

Wilson Fisk, known to most as the Kingpin, sat in his lavish penthouse office, the glow from the large flat-screen television casting long shadows across his desk. The news report played out in front of him, showing the aftermath of the massacre. His fingers steepled in front of his face, blocking out everything except the cold, emotionless visage of the battlefield.

His expression was hard to read—part concern, part intrigue. He had known of Silence, the mercenary who'd been stirring up chaos in New York, but this... this was something else entirely.

'He's stronger than I anticipated,' Fisk thought, his eyes narrowing slightly. 'I underestimated his... ruthlessness.'

There had been whispers in the underworld about Silence, but Fisk had always believed in controlling the chaos, not becoming a part of it. He had initially seen the mercenary as a potential asset—a tool to be used and discarded when necessary. But now, watching the destruction on the screen, the Kingpin felt a cold weight settle in his chest.

Silence was no tool. He was a force.

Fisk shifted in his seat, his large frame seemingly unaffected by the worry gnawing at his mind. But behind his calm exterior, the calculations had already begun. 'A monster in human skin... but even monsters have weaknesses.'

His mind raced through possibilities—alliances, betrayals, ways to turn this situation to his advantage. But deep down, he knew that facing Silence would require more than just brute strength or manipulation. He needed a plan. One that ensured that if the time ever came when Silence set his sights on him, Fisk would be ready.

For now, though, he would watch and wait. And prepare.

Silence sat atop a towering New York skyscraper, the cool night air dancing across his skin. Up here, he was removed-untouchable. He stared upward at the stars above, their cold light twinkling across the immense darkness, and for the first time in what felt like a long while, he let his mind wander.

'I'm a monster,' he confessed to himself. There was no use in pretending otherwise. The carnage he had caused earlier wasn't just a means to an end; it had been exhilarating. The power, the control, the fear he instilled-all of it felt natural, something that had always been buried inside him. 'Was it the cursed energy. or was it always there?'

Slightly, he frowned, a rare display of his emotion as he thought on this more deeply. Or had the cursed energy merely unlocked a side of him always lying in wait beneath his surface? Perhaps it had twisted him into something darker, more primal. He wasn't sure anymore. Silence-the mask he had worn-had become a part of him, but was it truly a disguise, or was it actually him, which he had just kept buried as Aaron for so long?

'Perhaps. both.'

He accepted that now. Whatever Aaron had been before, Silence was who he was now. The world around him, this city full of life and ambition, would never understand the depths he could plunge into. But now, after everything, there was no going back. He had attracted attention—the sort that couldn't be easily shaken. Fury, the X-Men, the Brotherhood, even Kingpin, were all on his tail now, trying to figure out who or what he really was.

A slow smile crept into his face at the mere thought. Let them speculate. But he wasn't that naive. He needed to lay low, grow, evolve-not just as Silence, but as Aaron. Aaron, the ordinary teenager who would navigate into the world, blend in, and wait for the right time to attack again.

'Time for a little recess,' he mused. Silence had given his impact. Aaron really did need to plot the next moves, as to how to strengthen not only his powers but his mind and his persona-to balance both monster and boy.

He closed his eyes and breathed in the cool air. For now, he would disappear from the radar. But when he came back, he would be ready for whatever was waiting.