The moment the command was given, the warehouse erupted into chaos.
The screams of gang members filled the air as the metallic roar of the Magic Puppet echoed through the corridors. Inside the building, crates of smuggled weapons toppled to the ground. Bullets clattered, grenades rolled underfoot, and smoke rose thick enough to choke the air.
"What the hell is that thing?!"
"Shoot! Don't let it come close!"
"Run! For God's sake, run!"
But it was already too late.
The creature that had stormed into the warehouse was not human. Its armor gleamed red under the flickering lights, claws glinting like knives. Every swing of its arms sliced through men like paper, tearing flesh and steel alike.
The Magic Puppet moved like a storm. Bullets struck its body but bounced away harmlessly. It didn't bleed, didn't flinch—only advanced. The red glow of its eyes reflected the terror in those who tried to fight it.
"Destroy... destroy all humans…" the mechanical voice growled as it cut down another smuggler.
Within minutes, the screams turned to silence. Blood pooled across the concrete floor.
Some surviving gangsters tried to flee, stumbling toward the exit.
But outside, A.M.E.S. soldiers were already waiting—dozens of Modia Units lined up with submachine guns aimed at the door.
"Targets sighted," one officer said.
"Fire."
Da-da-da-da!
Gunfire exploded, and the escaping gangsters fell before they could even scream. The rain of bullets continued until no one was left standing.
Inside the warehouse, only the soft hum of the Magic Puppet remained.
---
Aftermath of the Slaughter
From the flames and smoke, the Magic Puppet emerged—its armor dripping with blood and oil.
The crimson glow of its visor dimmed as the field commander, Wren, pressed the control trigger on her wrist.
The creature froze mid-step, eyes fading from red to dull gray. The Extinction Upgrade Key ejected from its belt with a faint hiss, clattering onto the wet floor.
Around the corpses, streams of red energy—pure malice—rose into the air like mist. The Modia Units activated their collection arrays, absorbing the data and transmitting it directly back to Satellite Ark orbiting above the Earth.
At the top of Vanderbuilt Tower, Levi watched the feed through a wall of holographic monitors. His face lit up with excitement as he watched the malice levels spike.
"Excellent," he said, snapping his fingers. "Perfect synchronization. The Ark's absorption rate is climbing rapidly."
The satellite's pulse grew stronger with every soul harvested.
Levi turned to Izzy. "With this efficiency, Hell's Kitchen will be purified within days."
Izzy nodded, her fingers flying across the control panel. "All the data streams are stable, sir. The puppet's neural network didn't overload."
Levi smiled faintly. "Good. Let's continue this pattern. Release, destroy, contain, repeat. It's efficient—and effective."
---
The Campaign of Cleansing
In the following days, the A.M.E.S. Task Force became the city's invisible reaper.
Every night, their transports rolled out under cover of darkness.
They had perfected the pattern—open the gates, unleash the Magic Puppet, then surround the area and clean up the aftermath.
Wherever they went, gangs fell.
Warehouses burned, streets turned silent, and the underworld that once ruled Hell's Kitchen began to collapse.
In just a few days, half the city's criminal networks were wiped out.
What remained of the gangs hid in sewers, basements, and half-empty motels, whispering in fear of the mechanical demons that now hunted them.
Civilians in the area, unaware of the truth, began to feel a fragile peace return. For the first time in years, there were no gunshots at night, no drug deals in alleys, no kidnappings in daylight.
But the peace came at a cost no one could see.
Behind that calm façade, Project Malice was feeding on the darkness that had been unleashed.
And Levi's private ambitions grew stronger with every passing night.
---
At Vanderbuilt Headquarters
Levi stood in his office, staring out at the skyline of New York City.
The glowing hologram of Satellite Ark hovered above his desk, its red light pulsing rhythmically.
"Malice level: 18%," Izzy reported.
"Projected completion for next stage: three days."
Levi smiled. "Excellent. General Ross's evaluation will close early. Once he certifies A.M.E.S. as a success, the government will fund us indefinitely."
He folded his hands behind his back, looking almost regal in the dim office light.
"With the city cleansed and the people grateful, Vanderbuilt Technologies will become the new pillar of peace. And when the time comes… we'll offer them salvation—from ourselves."
His laughter echoed through the chamber.
---
Meanwhile, Across the City…
Not everyone was laughing.
Across Manhattan, in a tall, unmarked skyscraper, another empire stirred.
The Phoenix Building, as it was quietly known, was as plain as any corporate tower—no sign, no logo, no lights except for the faint glow from the top floor.
Yet every New Yorker knew what it represented.
People who walked by its gates quickened their steps. Taxi drivers avoided the block entirely. Police patrols rerouted their paths.
Because inside that building lived the man who ruled New York's underworld.
Wilson Fisk—The Kingpin.
---
The Kingpin's Anger
Outside, the skies opened with heavy rain, washing the filth of the city down its gutters. Lightning cracked across the clouds as thunder rolled like drums of war.
In his penthouse office, Kingpin stood before a massive glass window, watching the city lights blur beneath the storm.
The man was colossal—nearly seven feet tall, his body built like a fortress. The black suit stretched tight over his muscles, his bald head gleaming in the lightning. In one hand he held a golden scepter, the other a lit cigar that glowed red in the darkness.
When the door creaked open behind him, he didn't turn.
"Enter," he said simply, his deep voice resonating like a growl.
A butler in a black coat stepped inside, bowing respectfully.
"Sir… we've completed the investigation," he said cautiously.
Kingpin turned, his expression unreadable. "Talk."
The butler swallowed hard. "It appears… several of your allied gangs have been completely destroyed. Their warehouses, safehouses, and transport routes—all wiped out."
Kingpin narrowed his eyes. Smoke from his cigar drifted upward, curling like a snake.
"How many?"
"Eight major groups, sir. Including the Viper Syndicate and the Russian outfit."
Kingpin's jaw tightened. "That's forty percent of our business network gone."
He paced slowly, the floor trembling slightly under his weight.
"Arms, drugs, smuggling, protection—all shattered in less than a week."
The butler hesitated. "Our intelligence division is still trying to determine who's responsible. Some witnesses mentioned… strange soldiers and machines. They said they glowed red, immune to bullets."
Kingpin turned sharply. "Machines?"
"Yes, sir. Some described them as… humanoid weapons."
He crushed the cigar into the ashtray, sparks flying.
"So it's not another gang war," he muttered. "It's someone else—someone new."
He walked back to the window, thunder flashing across his reflection.
For the first time in years, the Emperor of New York's underworld looked uncertain.
He had faced heroes before—Daredevil, Spider-Man, even S.H.I.E.L.D.—but this was different.
This was systematic extermination, not law enforcement. Whoever was behind it had resources, precision, and no moral restraint.
"Find out who they are," Kingpin said coldly.
"Find me the name of whoever thinks they can burn my city."
The butler nodded quickly and left the room.
Kingpin turned back toward the window.
Below, lightning illuminated the towers of New York, reflecting off the rain-soaked streets.
He raised the golden scepter, gripping it tightly.
"If it's war they want," he growled, "then they'll have war."
---
At Vanderbuilt Tower
Back across town, Levi watched the same storm from his office, unaware that his new enemy was already stirring.
He smiled faintly, sipping a glass of scotch.
"Let the underworld react," he murmured. "Every action fuels more fear, more hatred—more malice for the Ark."
Izzy looked up from her console. "Sir, you're expecting retaliation?"
"Of course," Levi said, eyes glinting. "That's the point."
Outside, thunder rolled once more over the city—two kings preparing for a war that would soon shake New York to its core.
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