567
Destruction and Creation
"Goodbye," Bruno Costa said flippantly, then turned and departed, surrounded by onlookers outside the courthouse.
"I'm sorry, Frank. We couldn't assist you," Matt apologized, clearly frustrated by the lawsuit's failure.
"That's not your concern," Frank replied tersely. "I'll deal with them my own way."
Matt hesitated for a moment, then responded urgently, "Don't you think—no, Frank, that's not a wise choice."
"I have no other options. If the law won't change, then I'll break it!" Frank declared decisively. "From now on, Frank Custer is dead. Call me the Punisher!"
...
Nighttime in New York, Hell's Kitchen.
Despite being nestled in bustling Manhattan, Hell's Kitchen remained one of the country's most crime-ridden neighborhoods, infamous to all.
At this moment, atop a tall building in Hell's Kitchen,
Matt Murdock stood alone on the rooftop, holding a crimson mask—his alter ego, Daredevil.
Blinded by radiation as a child, Matt had been compensated with a heightened sense of hearing that bordered on the supernatural.
With his acute auditory perception, Matt not only discerned sounds but also visualized them in intricate detail, akin to sonar imaging but far more refined and expansive than mere sight.
Thus, whenever Matt listened, every nuance of Hell's Kitchen, from whispers to sirens, was laid bare to him.
Under cover of night, his auditory advantage transformed him into a hero: Daredevil, guardian of New York's shadows, keeping his achievements and fame discreet.
However, Matt, a lawyer by day, never crossed legal boundaries in his nocturnal pursuits.
His approach to combating crime had always been to deliver offenders to the authorities for lawful justice rather than resorting to lethal means.
Matt steadfastly adhered to this principle.
But recent events involving Frank had unsettled him deeply.
If the law proved powerless against someone as depraved as Bruno Costa, what choice did he have?
Should he continue adhering to futile laws, or follow Frank's lead, becoming the Punisher and administering lethal justice?
Matt knew Frank had embarked on his vendetta, ushering in a reign of terror for New York's underworld, with more gangsters destined to perish.
The heightened crime rate in Hell's Kitchen seemed to reflect this upheaval, yet for two hours tonight, perched on the rooftop, Matt heard nothing of note.
Just as Matt considered leaving, a brawl erupted a few blocks away, where a gang was harassing two pedestrians.
At last, something to act upon.
Matt donned his mask, assuming the mantle of Daredevil, and swiftly made his way to the scene of the altercation.
...
Forseti sat in a room, his right hand outstretched, a brilliant flame swirling in his palm, where a faint image of a phoenix could be discerned.
This manifestation of the phoenix in his flame was a residue of its power he had previously encountered.
Though weakened by the Holy Shield technique's interception, once absorbed, it subtly intertwined with his divine flame power.
This amalgamation enlightened Forseti: the phoenix's power embodied not just destruction but the paradoxical union of destruction and creation.
In his experimentation, aided by the Holy Light's influence, Forseti succeeded in evoking the creative aspect of the Phoenix Force. Now, a flame of creation blazed in his palm, possessing healing properties akin to the Holy Light.
While its current efficacy was modest, it hinted at potential—a convergence of flame power, phoenix essence, and holy light might birth a new form of power, elevating him to a higher tier.
Indeed, over centuries, Forseti had repeatedly delved into the mysteries of the Holy Light.
Yet its profundity often left him pondering with meager revelations after days of contemplation.
This humbling process underscored that on the path of the Holy Light, he was a novice, far from pioneering substantive innovations; it was wiser to earnestly study holy deeds and spells.
Now, however, Forseti felt an unprecedented surge, a genuine brush with revelation. UU Reading www.uukanshu.com
Nevertheless, he tempered this optimism with humility, aware that past centuries had humbled him time and again with dashed hopes whenever he believed to have grasped the Holy Light's secrets.
Repeated setbacks had tempered Forseti's expectation.
Perhaps this time, enlightenment awaited, and he continued probing the phoenix's creative potential, flames swirling in his palm, the phoenix's ethereal form dancing within.
"Boom!"
Abruptly, gunfire shattered his concentration.
Forseti extinguished the flame with a sigh.
His current locale was New York, where he had resided for some time. Unexpectedly, for the world's premier metropolis, law and order were markedly lax, especially in this vicinity.
The land of the free, indeed.
Activating the Eye of Reckoning, he swiftly pinpointed the shooting's source and darted towards it.
"You meddling fool!" a thug wielding a firearm spat, kicking a fallen man, preparing for another shot, teeth gritted.
Forseti flexed his fingers, holy light coalescing into a compact sphere in his palm, hurtling towards its target.
Though diminutive, the holy light sphere boasted formidable velocity and potency.
"Boom!"
The sphere detonated upon impact, its punitive radiance akin to a heavy sniper's bullet, rending the thug asunder!