Capítulo 14: 14. Samaritan and Vigilante
Part 1: Fury's Office
The soft hum of machinery underscored the tension in Nick Fury's office as he scanned the report in front of him. His one good eye narrowed as he processed the document, his disbelief evident. He finally looked up, fixing Agent Phil Coulson with an incredulous look, his fingers steepled over the paper.
"You're telling me this guy's Thor? The Thor?" Fury's voice was skeptical, tinged with an exasperation he rarely let slip. "Odin's son?"
Coulson nodded slowly, wearing a knowing smile that acknowledged how unbelievable this all sounded. "Yes, sir. The hammer checks out. And... he has the physique to match. I've never seen anyone so… exactly what I'd imagine a Norse god to look like."
Fury glanced down again at the file, shaking his head, half-wondering if Coulson was pulling one over on him. He gave an amused snort, though there was a seriousness to his gaze. "Alright. I'll look into it myself," he finally muttered, setting the report down. "And Selvig?"
"He's en route to the research facility. You're scheduled to meet him tomorrow morning," Coulson replied. "He'll be briefing us on his findings about the cosmic radiation surrounding that hammer. Apparently, he's fascinated."
Fury nodded, his focus sharpening. "Good. I'll meet with him personally." He looked over at Maria Hill, seated at the other end of his desk, who had been waiting her turn to brief him.
"Now, what's this about that mess in New York with the Hulk and the Abomination?" Fury turned to Hill, his tone a touch more clipped. He had read the initial reports, but he knew Hill's would be more comprehensive.
"Civilian casualties were minimized after the intervention of… a powered individual." Hill pressed a remote, and the room darkened as images appeared on a screen behind her. A series of blurred, hastily snapped photos flashed on the monitor, showing a figure in a hoodie and ski mask, sprinting through the debris-strewn streets, rescuing civilians trapped in the rubble. The figure was swift, nimble, and clearly strong—lifting large pieces of debris as if they weighed nothing.
Fury raised an eyebrow. "Who's this masked Samaritan?"
Hill leaned forward. "We're not sure, sir. The video analysis we conducted on various security feeds suggests it's a young female—possibly a teenager. She exhibits signs of enhanced strength, agility, and reflexes."
Fury's eyebrows rose slightly as he leaned back in his chair, considering this new revelation. "A super soldier?"
"Not quite." Hill pressed another button, revealing footage of the figure scaling a brick wall, her movements fluid and precise. She clung to it effortlessly, sticking to the vertical surface like a spider.
"That's… new." Fury's gaze lingered on the image, his mind churning with possibilities.
Hill continued. "But that's not all. We believe someone else was there as well."
More images filled the screen, this time showing various grainy figures and blurred outlines. They were harder to decipher, as though something was interfering with the cameras. Hill flipped through a set of photographs, each one blurry and indistinct, revealing only vague outlines.
"We've been keeping tabs on several organized crime groups suspected of trafficking powered individuals. Two of their high-ranking members went missing just after that night. Both were on our watchlist."
Fury's expression darkened. "Human trafficking of powered individuals?"
Hill nodded. "Yes, sir. These were small-time enforcers, but they were connected to something bigger. What's strange is that our surveillance footage for that night shows the Good Samaritan glancing at someone on a rooftop, but no clear image of that individual is available. The cameras captured them, but their face is completely blurred."
Fury leaned forward. "Facial distortion? And our tech couldn't fix it?"
"Not just our tech. They ran it through every de-blurring software we have, and it's like… the image itself was corrupted at the source," Hill explained, her voice edged with frustration. "Then I started backtracking. I found a pattern. Over the last five months, thirteen individuals tied to trafficking and other violent criminal activities have gone missing. These were criminals local law enforcement couldn't make charges stick on. And they vanished without a trace."
"A serial vigilante," Fury muttered, eyeing the screen.
"Possibly," Hill agreed. "And one who's somehow managed to gain access to law enforcement databases. We found a worm buried deep in the system—a backdoor."
"Someone wanted to stay informed," Fury noted grimly. "But they left no traces?"
"None. All we could find was a log of files accessed, and it showed this vigilante was looking into over fifty suspects. But the thirteen missing ones stood out, and each had one thing in common: they were suspected of the worst crimes. There was even a file of interest from a local high school. A student named Flash Thompson, age seventeen. He's from a wealthy family… and he disappeared about five months ago."
Fury's gaze narrowed, considering this new information. "You're telling me this boy could have been the first? Are we're looking at a possible serial killer with some way to disrupt cameras?"
Hill looked uneasy. "It's possible. The Good Samaritan may either be a target—or worse, connected to whoever's behind these disappearances. Based on video analysis, both individuals appear to be teenagers. We believe the Samaritan could potentially be an Avenger candidate. The other… well, we may need to act, depending on their motives."
Fury's fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk as he mulled it over. "If they're just cleaning up the streets out of some twisted sense of duty, they may still have a purpose. If not…"
He let the implication hang in the air, a cold resolve flashing in his eye. This vigilante could be a threat, but he also saw potential. "I want both of them identified, and fast. The Good Samaritan could be an asset, but that other one… let's keep our options open."
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Part 2: Peter's Perspective
The echoes of laughter and muffled chatter from students faded as the last stragglers left the gym. Peter Parker spun a basketball between his hands, his gaze shifting to Gwen Stacy, who stood across from him, hands on her hips and an easy grin on her face.
"You ready to get schooled, Parker?" Gwen teased, tossing her hair back, her expression challenging.
Peter smirked. "Bring it on, Stacy."
They started off casual, the ball bouncing between them as they shot hoops. But as the game went on, their natural competitiveness emerged. Gwen's movements were swift and precise, her lithe form darting around Peter as she snatched the ball, scoring again and again. Peter was impressed and he had intentionallybeen holding back just enoughof his strength and agility. He didnt care about winning, he had an ulterior motive for challenging her.
He narrowed his focus, calculating each move with precision. The next time Gwen tried to dart past him, he moved a split second faster, grabbing the ball and pivoting in one smooth motion. But Gwen was ready; she blocked him, grinning as she pushed him back.
"Oh, come on, Peter! You can't be holding back on me now."
Peter chuckled, his expression slightly darkening as he decided to step things up. They went at it harder, the game intensifying, their laughter dying as the competition took over. Sweat glistened on Gwen's forehead, and her eyes sparkled with the thrill of the game. But Peter's mind was already calculating his next move.
In one swift moment, he seized an opportunity, putting a bit more strength into his next push. Gwen stumbled, her feet lifting off the ground as she was sent backward, flying through the air toward the gym wall. A flicker of guilt on his face, but this needed to happen.
Gwen's body twisted midair, her limbs shifting with uncanny agility. She reached out, catching herself against the wall, her palms and feet sticking to the surface as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She hung there, wide-eyed, breathing heavily as she stared at Peter.
A tense silence settled over the gym as they locked eyes. Peter's heart pounded in his chest as confirmed what he had already suspected since two weeks ago.
"You…" just as he had planned, his voice barely a whisper, filled with a mix of shock and awe. "You can… stick to walls?"
Gwen's eyes narrowed slightly as she gauged his reaction. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face, but it was quickly replaced by determination. She dropped from the wall, landing gracefully, her gaze fixed on Peter.
"Yeah," she said softly, almost as if daring him to ask more. "And you… you threw me harder than any normal person could."
The unspoken truth hung between them, altering the very fabric of their friendship. Each of them had been hiding something, something that now lay exposed under the gym's harsh fluorescent lights, but this was all according to Peter's design.
Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder