Nightwing & Angel - The Legend Untold

1328 Elmwood Avenue, Brooklyn, NY, 11215—an ordinary-looking house on a quiet street. But beneath its normal appearance hid something sinister. Inside, in a darkened room, Atlas, an ancient dark sorcerer, sat deep in meditation.

For 70 years or more, Atlas had controlled the flow of events in the world, twisting fate to fulfill his motive and ensure his chosen followers succeeded in their roles. Every move, every moment, was part of his carefully crafted plan, designed to fulfill his ultimate vision of power.

But tonight, something was wrong.

Atlas's eyes snapped open as a wave of disruption shattered his meditative focus. His connection to the intricate threads of fate was disrupted—not by some grand force, but by a single, seemingly insignificant irregularity. One mistake. One deviation.

"No…" Atlas growled, his voice low and menacing, echoing through the dimly lit room. His gaze fixed on the ethereal vision hovering before him—a flickering replay of the battle between Loe Halloway and Litzo. He had planned for Litzo's triumph, for the vigilante's demise to be swift and absolute. Yet, against all logic, the outcome had changed. Litzo lay defeated, and Loe had walked away victorious.

Atlas slammed his fist onto the armrest of his ancient chair, the room trembling under his growing fury. "This was not supposed to happen!" he snarled, his voice filled with equal parts rage and disbelief.

He paced the room, his dark robes trailing like shadows, as his mind raced to understand. "The threads were flawless… every move accounted for. How could it unravel like this?"

"This mistake… this irregularity will cost me everything if I don't act." Atlas muttered, his voice low and venomous. He clenched his fists, dark energy sparking at his fingertips as he glared at the fading image of Loe.

Atlas's jaw tightened, his anger giving way to cold calculation. "Loe Halloway… I underestimated you. But this ends now."

Turning to the ancient tome on his desk, he began flipping through its pages, searching for the means to correct this error. As he read, his dark power radiated through the room, the air growing thick with an ominous energy.

"One mistake will not undo 70 years of work," Atlas hissed, his eyes glowing with malice. "I will make you regret defying me, Halloway. I will erase this irregularity and restore order to my design."

For the first time in his life, Atlas felt the sting of disruption. And for the first time, he prepared to confront it himself.

What Atlas didn't realize was that the disruption in his grand plan wasn't solely because of Loe Halloway's strength or determination. It was also due to Michael Wilson, the mysterious figure known to a select few as the Spider-Man, who had secretly provided Loe with the crucial item he needed to defeat Litzo.

Michael's intervention, though subtle, was enough to tip the scales. By equipping Loe with the right tool at the right time, he ensured that the impossible became possible, unraveling the threads of fate that Atlas had so meticulously woven. This unexpected collaboration was a twist that neither Litzo nor Atlas could have anticipated, making Michael the silent architect of their undoing.

........

Meanwhile as Chris and Mark sprinted down the corridor, the muffled sound of Alphonse's men shouting orders echoing behind them. The tension was palpable, and every step seemed to bring them closer to their goal—and the danger that came with it.

Suddenly, Chris's voice rang out, sharp and urgent. "Look out, Nightwing!!"

Mark's sharp reflexes kicked in as he spotted a grenade arcing through the air, heading straight toward them. Without missing a beat, he whipped out his baton, the metallic weapon glinting in the dim light, and struck the grenade mid-flight, sending it hurtling toward an empty corner of the hallway.

The grenade detonated with a deafening roar, sending shockwaves through the corridor. Mark was caught by the edge of the explosion, the force throwing him backward. He landed hard on the ground, but his Nightwing suit—designed by none other than Michael Wilson, aka Spider-Man, absorbed the brunt of the blast.

Chris rushed to Mark's side, concern flashing across his face. "Mark! You good?"

Mark groaned as he pushed himself up, dust and debris clinging to his suit. "I'm fine," he said, his voice steady but tinged with irritation. "The suit held up. I love you Michael for this suit"

Chris smirked, offering Mark a hand to pull him up. "Remind me to thank him for making you explosion-proof."

Mark dusted himself off and adjusted his baton, his eyes scanning the corridor ahead. "No time for that. Alphonse is closing in, and so are his men. Let's move. We can't let him reach Vivian and Gustav."

Chris nodded, his grip tightening on his weapon. "Got it. Just don't go pulling any more hero stunts, alright?"

Mark allowed himself a small smirk. "No promises."

The two moved forward, their determination undeterred despite the explosion. The stakes were higher than ever, but failure was not an option.

.......

Gustav and Vivian froze for a moment as the rumble of the explosion reached their ears, shaking the very walls around them. Dust trickled from the ceiling, and their eyes widened as they exchanged an alarmed glance.

Gustav stepped toward the door, peeking cautiously through the crack. His heart sank as he saw Alphonse's men rushing down the hall, their weapons drawn, their faces grim and determined.

Turning back to Vivian, his voice was urgent but steady. "We need to move. Now."

Vivian hesitated for a fraction of a second, glancing at the room filled with Alphonse's gruesome experiments. Her expression hardened as she realized they were running out of time.

Gustav grabbed her hand, his grip firm but protective. "Vivian, let's go!" he urged, pulling her toward the back of the room where a secondary exit lay hidden behind a stack of old crates.

Just as they reached the hidden door, the main door burst open with a deafening crash. Alphonse's men poured in, their boots thundering against the floor as they scanned the room.

"Search everywhere!" one of them barked, his voice cold and commanding.

Gustav pushed Vivian toward the exit and whispered urgently, "Go, I'll hold them off if I have to."

Vivian shook her head fiercely, her voice low but resolute. "I'm not leaving you. We do this together."

Their eyes met in a moment of silent understanding. Together, they slipped through the hidden door, their footsteps muffled by the thick layer of dust on the floor. Behind them, the sound of Alphonse's men overturning crates and shouting orders grew louder.

Gustav's jaw tightened as he whispered, "We need to find a safe way out—and fast."

Vivian nodded, her voice steady despite the fear creeping into her chest. "We will. But we're not leaving until we stop whatever Alphonse is doing here."

As they moved through the dark, narrow passageway, the faint sound of footsteps following behind them made their urgency even greater. Alphonse's men were relentless, and the danger was closing in.

....

Alphonse Capone's heartbeat quickened as he heard the explosion in the distance. The noise rang out like a drumbeat of war, and the fury in his chest only grew. The once-man who was feared for his ruthlessness in the criminal underworld was now something far more dangerous. With the blessing from the dark sorcerer Atlas Pendragon Holtwood, Alphonse had become a living weapon—a super-soldier forged by magic and enhanced strength.

Despite his age, his body was a perfect fusion of mortal cunning and supernatural might. The serum flowing through his veins, combined with the sorcery Atlas had imbued him with, made him stronger than any ordinary man. His movements were swift, precise, and deadly, as if he were a creature of both flesh and magic.

He stormed through the lower levels, his men trailing behind, but it was clear that this mission was his. His grip tightened on his cane, which concealed a hidden blade—one of the many tools of his enhanced arsenal. His senses were sharpened beyond human limits. He could hear the faint scurry of footsteps ahead—the vigilantes were close. He could smell the lingering trace of gunpowder and blood.

"Vigilantes…" Alphonse muttered under his breath, his voice like a growl as he slammed open a door with a force that shook the entire building. "You think you can destroy everything I've built? You'll regret that decision. I'll make you all pay."

Alphonse's enhanced body surged with unnatural strength. His reflexes were honed to a superhuman level, and his muscles rippled with power as the serum coursed through his bloodstream, giving him near-invincibility. His once-weak frame, now muscular and formidable, seemed to pulse with dark energy as if the very air around him recognized his power.

He gritted his teeth, his eyes burning with a murderous intensity. He was faster, stronger, and more lethal than anyone in that room could ever imagine. The men who followed him were skilled, but Alphonse was their true weapon, and he wasn't about to let anyone—especially these vigilantes—destroy the empire he had spent decades building.

"You think you can stop me?" he hissed under his breath, as the dark energy flowing through his body began to crackle. "You'll all burn before you can touch me."

Alphonse Capone wasn't just a mob boss anymore. He was something far worse.

And as he stormed toward the lower levels, he was determined to make sure that none of them walked out alive.

 ............

As the soft hum of the dimly lit room surrounded them, Loe slowly regained consciousness, his mind groggy from the exhaustion of the battle. The first thing he felt was a gentle touch on his face, a warmth that slowly roused him from his haze. His eyes fluttered open, and the blurry figure above him slowly came into focus—Mindy's face, framed by the soft glow of the light.

Loe blinked, disoriented. His throat was dry, and his body ached from the earlier fight with Litzo. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice hoarse as he tried to push himself up, but the world around him still swayed.

Mindy immediately pulled her hand away, startled by his voice. Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as she stammered, "Nothing." She quickly turned her gaze down, avoiding his eyes, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

Loe couldn't help but smile at her reaction. Despite the pain and fatigue weighing him down, a small part of him felt at ease knowing she had been there to care for him. After all, she was the one who stayed by his side when he passed out from the battle with Litzo.

He sighed, his lips curving upward as he looked at her. "Thanks," he muttered, his tone softer now, more genuine.

Mindy's ears turned pink as she looked at him in confusion. "What?" she asked, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

Loe gave a small chuckle and shook his head, his expression a mix of tiredness and amusement. "I said thanks, idiot."

Mindy's eyes widened in realization, and then she broke into a soft, nervous laugh. "Hehehe," she giggled, her embarrassment melting into warmth.

Loe watched her, a slight smile still on his face, appreciating the rare, light moment between them amidst all the chaos they had been through. Despite everything happening around them, at least for now, there was a quiet, comforting sense of connection.

To be continue