Alex POV:
The next day, before his patrol:
The sun's been down for a while now, but the sky still glows a little, orange light bleeding away over the horizon like a fading memory.
I sit atop an old apartment, back leaning on the air ducts. I'm wearing a bulky hoodie over my costume, covering it completely. My gauntlets are off and on the ground beside me. I reach out to the sunset with my bare hands, the light fading from between my fingers.
I've tried to reactivate that thing with my claws growing out, but it's never worked since yesterday. Maybe it has something to do with my emotions. I heard that bears go berserk when they're trying to defend their cubs.
A low hum comes from my earbud, signalling that ned just unmuted himself.
"Yo, Alex, did you see the news yet? They're talking about you everywhere!" Ned gushes before quickly muting once again.
I don't say anything and pull out my phone, unlocking it. I go to my news app.
First thing that pops up is a grainy security cam freeze-frame from the fire—my back to the camera, kid in my arms, leaping out of the fifth-story window. The caption reads: "Man dressed as a bear Saves Dozens from Apartment Blaze." Underneath that: "He looked like a monster, but he saved my baby. Witness from Roosevelt Fire Praises Beast-Themed Vigilante"
I scroll past the local channels and find the ones Ned meant. The loud ones.
J Jonah Jamison's voice cuts through the previously silent rooftop. Just seeing his face makes my head ache.
"This just in: another so-called 'hero' has taken to the streets. This time, it's some unregistered, fur-draped wild man stomping through Queens like he's auditioning for a horror movie!"
"Is this what we're calling justice now? Mob-style beatdowns? Scaring children out of burning buildings? I'm telling you, folks- this isn't some noble crusader. This is an animal in need of a leash!"
He slams his hand on the desk for emphasis.
"And don't think I haven't noticed the timing, he shows up the same week as the Spider-Menace!? What is this, a coordinated Stark Industries marketing rollout? Are they selling action figures already?"
I snort quietly. That's a new one. They think I'm some industry plant?
Next article. A conspiracy blog. Not even pretending to be subtle.
"We've got enhanced durability, strength, claws, and now fire resistance? This guy isn't human. I'm betting government test subject. Maybe a Stark Industries android. Either way, they've let something loose."
Comments underneath range from unhinged to half-believable."Dude can run faster than a speeding car. No way that's a real person." "Definitely a Stark reject. You see the way he tanked that car? It was almost as if he was made of metal." "Lmao no way he's Stark. Stark heroes are flashy and cool. This guy looks like a goddamn cryptid."
Scroll again.
Another grainy video. Someone took it from across the street when I stopped that car. Headlights, a blur of motion, me slamming into the hood and absorbing the hit like a wall.The caption:
"Masked Vigilante Stops Stolen Truck With His Bare Hands!" The top comment was: "That drunk guy was a goner. Whoever this dude is, he's going around saving lives."
Finally, I found a clip from a local channel. Someone actually doing their job. They're interviewing a woman from the fire.
"I don't know who he was. He didn't say a word. He just kept pulling people out. He went back in like three times. I... I thought he was going to die in there."
The anchor calls me "Queens' protector from the shadows." Someone else calls me "the Prowler of the Night." I kinda like those titles. A lot better than "bear man" or "buff furry".
Another video. From earlier in the week, during our first patrol. A couple of shaky frames of me and Peter mid-patrol, captured from behind. Two shadows moving together. One agile and sleek, swinging through the air. The other, me, bulkier, and leaping from rooftop to rooftop.
The headline reads: "Double Trouble? New Vigilantes Team Up for Night Patrols." "Sources claim the two may be working together, having debuted at the same time." "Spider-Man and Ursa- a new age of street-level justice?"
I was just about to scroll to the next article when I picked something up at the edge of my senses. Scuffling. Muffled screaming. Shit, already?
I immediately leap up and sprint towards the noise, while hurriedly putting my gauntlets back on.
I made it to a rooftop near the alley when I first noticed the sound. I see a big white van parked at the entrance. This can't be good.
I run past the car and into the alley, making sure to memorize the license plate.
Deeper into the alley, a dead end clearing appeared. There were two groups of people. One group, consisting of around 7 big and tattooed russian men, surrounding a group of teenagers, guns drawn.
A fucking hostage situation. Great. I quickly sent an SOS notification to ned, hoping he could lead Peter to my location.
I sneak around the shadows of the dark alley, eavesdropping on their conversation.
One of the captors, a bald one in a suit who looks to be the leader, is saying something in Russian to one of the goons.
"Издашь звук — и ты труп." He whispers to his goon, who then translates to the crowd.
"Make a noise, and you're dead." The goon repeats.
The faces in the crowd get noticeably whiter.
... Shit, I wont be able to fully deal with this situation this open area without any of the hostages getting hurt. I'm going to have to pick them off one by one when they're exiting the narrow alley.
I wait in the shadows for the perfect opportunity. It comes faster than anticipated.
The mob gathers the hostages into two rows and leads them through the alley, back to the van. 3 mobsters guard the back, making sure that nobody runs away, while the boss and the other 3 lead the way.
I silently drop behind them. Nobody would expect something to come out of a dead end.
Using the stealth skills I've learnt, I sneak up on the mobster farthest back, hit a pressure point on the back of his neck to send him to sleep, while lifting up his body so he wouldn't fall and alert the others. I do the exact same for the other two in the back.
I sneak up on the hostages from behind and start pulling them out one by one.
Since if I get all of them out at the same time it would cause too much of a commotion, I would tap them on the shoulder, block their mouths to prevent them from screaming, and tell them to go back to the clearing at the end of the alley for now.
It was all going smoothly, with only a few remaining hostages left, when it happened.
The mob boss, the one in the suit, randomly decides to look back, obviously during the worst possible time, when I was in the middle of the alley, nowhere to hide.
"Бля, это медведь!" The boss yells, startling the other mobsters, until they all notice me, and their considerable lack of hostages. They start urging the remaining teenagers to go faster, shoving the barrels of their guns towards the remaining teens.
This is not good. I have no idea how I can recover from this situation. There's no guarantee that the mobsters won't end up shooting the teens if I try to take them.
I'm fine with them shooting me, but just... not all those innocent teens.
One of the goons grabs a teen by the collar and yanks him forward, gun pressed tight to the kid's head. Another swings his weapon around in my direction and starts raining fire.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
The shot echoes down the alley, slamming into the brick wall where I used to be standing, but I'm already on the move.
I close the distance in a heartbeat, low and fast, slamming my shoulder into the gunman's chest before he can aim again. He stumbles back, winded, and I throw an elbow into his face. I hear his nose crack under the pressure. He's out cold before he hits the ground.
The other one panics, dragging two more teens with him, shoving them toward the van. I can't let them get away.
The third mobster turns and fires wildly, not even looking, just spraying and praying.
I drop to the ground, roll under the shots, and sweep his legs. he topples over like a Jenga tower. I'm on him before he can even hit the ground, driving my knee into his ribs and knocking the gun from his hand. He tries to grab it, but I slam his hand down and feel something crunch under my palm.
Two down.
But I'm too late.
I look back up towards the hostages, and they're getting forcefully pushed into the van by the boss, while the last remaining goon is starting the van.
I dash, but they're faster. The engine of the massive van roars to life, and it starts getting away.
Shit.
I leave a message for Peter to take care of all of the hostages I've rescued, and I start my pursuit.
(a/n shouldn't have skipped leg day, huh? Didn't know you were gonna be doing all that running? On a real note, this next short arc fighting against the russian mafia is the last one before Avengers.)