Shadows of Justice

***Date Finished'**:*

***Next Role-Play***: N/A

***Timeline***: 3033

***Setting***: New York City, New York

***Characters Involved***:
* **Heroes**: Lorenzo Alvarado
* **Vigilantes**: Arthur Newman
* **Villains**: Gravebringer
* **Other**:
* **Mentioned**:

## The Undead

Walking through the flooded and crowded streets of New York City, was a young student hero-in-training attending a prodigious well-funded school. Although he was a hero, one of the most respected and dreamed of occupations in the midst of the times in NYC he looked like nothing more than an ant in the crowd of thousands waiting to get to their location.

His phone started ringing in his pockets, stopping him in his tracks to pull it out and see who is calling, with it turning out to be his hero agency. "Hello." picking up the phone immediately trying not to downplay the importance of the call. "Lorenzo, I'm going to need to see you at HQ, got a real job opportunity for you that I think that only someone of designation is capable of." Said a deep burly voice coming from the other end.

"Aight then." Lorenzo told him, understanding his other completely before hanging up. Heading down to the train station, Lorenzo went to where his agency was located at.

As the night descended upon New York City, Gravebringer's plane touched down, signaling the beginning of his latest assignment. He knew that time was of the essence, and he was resolute in completing his task swiftly. Stepping off the aircraft, he felt the cool night air greet him. As he disembarked, his phone buzzed with the distinct urgency of his employer on the line. Gravebringer answered promptly, his voice laced with the efficiency and professionalism that had become his trademark. "Yes, I understand," he affirmed, his keen intellect absorbing the details. “As long as the payment comes through, I can locate him."

While his gaze swept over the iconic New York skyline, Gravebringer set his plan into motion. His employer's voice filtered through the phone as the promised payment began to flow into his bank account. The transaction confirmed, Gravebringer's commitment to his mission was evident. He offered one final reassurance to his employer before ending the call, his tone conveying the unspoken promise of his deadly expertise. "I'll kill him for you, don't worry."

The dusty and grimy streets of Harlem, New York illustrated a picture that represented Arthur Newman perfectly. Stuck, lost, messy, and powerful. He crunched a bag of crisps under his feet, his white sneakers busting the bag's seams open almost immediately. The heavy steps he took ceased as he looked into an alleyway. A woman, being brutalized by a seemingly homeless man....with a bottle of Hennessy. Flick. Arthur's hands turned black as purple flames covered his fist. The young man simply touched his feet, igniting his shoes until the flames just...stopped burning.

In a split second, the assailant was knocked into a brick wall, Arthur holding him by his slim and bony neck. "Why would you do this to her? What possessed you?" Arthur's words gave off the impression that he was disappointed in this man. As the bum squirmed around, Arthur shook his head and chucked his dirty body into the nearest wall. Blood splattered on the woman's face, but what would she do? She was already unconscious.

Arthur stepped over the shattered bottle of alcohol, placing his hands in his pocket as he walked down the street once again, stepping away from the alleyway. "*Harlem....the city of grief. The worst of the boroughs. After all, it bred a creature like me.*" he crossed the street, rain pattering down as the clouds bundled into a dark, silver mess. Brrrrrring. "What in the world? Who would be calling me directly-?" Arthur said aloud to himself, flabbergasted by this sudden incoming call.

"Hello?" he spoke softly, his tone being respectful. The voice on the other end was inaudible, until they finally said, "Arthur?! It's Malia, your old classmate!" the woman's familiar voice, shocked Arthur. Malia was his best friend until he left Marvel University. "*Not today. The past isn't going to impede on my plans any longer.*" Arthur simply dropped his phone into a muddy puddle of rain.

"Hello?! Hello?!"

Arthur was long gone by the time Malia finally hung up the phone.

Arriving at the Headquarters of the Phoenix Hero Agency where he was currently employed at, Lorenzo dropped his school bags and equipment as he immediately went into his manager’s office who worked under the Pro-Hero. Yawning, Lorenzo stretched his tall and lanky frame before he proceeded to take a seat into the rubber chair.

”Unprofessional as ever eh?” The black haired man with a buzz cut told him in a deadpan manner as he sips his cup of coffee.

“So what’s the sitch?” Lorenzo replied ignoring his previous sentiment.

Placing his coffee down on the table, his manager, Axalotl stared at Lorenzo with his spacious purple eyes. “I’m just going to drop the bomb on you okay.”

”A mysterious entity coming from the underbelly is trying to assassinate one of the candidates for the senate of the state, this mercenary has a hefty track record of successful kills under his belt so you better be wary..”

Lorenzo smiled while picking his ear, throwing out the wax that was coming out of it. “KAKAKAKAKAKA!” He then started laughing uncontrollably as if this weren’t a serious request. “So why’d you guys pick me for the job??”

To the chagrin of Axolotl, he smacked his lips at Lorenzo’s stupidly. “You’re the best suited for this job in here, and more than anyone you need this opportunity to prove yourself.”

Hearing those words coming from Axolotl, made Lorenzo smirk as he stood up from the seat. “Alright, I gotchu.” He gave him a fist bump as he walked out of the office.

Dressed in his sleek and iconic mercenary attire, Gravebringer initiated the meticulous process of gearing up for his next targer. His current arsenal of weapons and equipment layed neatly arranged before him. Among the tools of his trade, his sniper rifle stood out as the centerpiece of his plan. Its matte-black metals gleamed dully under the low lighting of the dimly lit room where he had taken position. He checked the rifle's precision sights, ensuring they were perfectly calibrated for the upcoming task. Now all he had to do was wait, giving him perfect moment to shoot the man.

Seeing a gleaming light coming from a mysterious room, Arthur's overwhelming curiosity caused his body to move instinctively. Cracking open the door to this darkly lit hideout, Arthur ignored the figure and fully silenced his body using his Quirk in only a few seconds. His footsteps, body odor, and voice were now masked, meaning he could easily avoid being noticed as long as he stayed out of visual contact.

Getting in a stance, Arthur swiftly rushed around the room. He looked at multiple different objects, but the sniper rifle caught his eye. "This is a unique model....had to be imported from Cambodia. The color was recently painted on, meaning the rifle most likely brandished the colors of the Cambodian government....mater of fact, maybe it was imported from Russia. Those scopes and optics are only ever made in Russian territory." Arthur's knowledge of guns was clearly a gift of his.

Pulling out a pistol from his waist, he quietly walked over to Gravebringer and crouched down next to the man. He raised his pistol up to the rifle, being amazed by the size difference. "My own firearm is from Russia....and is way smaller. His has to be a modified Russian model, interesting, illegal, and questionable." he gleefully smirked, removing the masking of his face so his voice could be audible.

"Nice to meet you, gunman."

In a fraction of a second, as the unexpected situation unfolded, a surge of adrenaline coursed through Gravebringer's veins, sharpening his reflexes and instincts. "What the hell," he thought, his mind racing to process the threat that had suddenly materialized. With lightning speed, his well-trained muscles tensed, and he instinctively reached for the trusty combat knife holstered at his side.

Without hesitation, he executed a swift and precise motion, drawing the blade from its sheath and sending it slicing through the air towards Arthur's throat. It was a lethal response to the sudden danger, a calculated strike aimed at ending the threat before it could escalate further. The blade, honed to a razor's edge, glinted ominously as it closed the gap between them.