Marvel: Silver Hand

The air in New York City was thick with the scent of gasoline, trash, and the ever-present aroma of food from the street vendors. Alexander had missed this city—the chaos, the filth, the life.

After weeks in Asgard, where everything was golden halls and divine feasts, it felt good to be back in the gritty, ugly streets of Earth.

He landed in Hell's Kitchen, the one place where no one asked questions, and no one cared who you were. The run-down apartment building he had chosen as his home still looked like a forgotten relic of a war zone.

As he entered, he spotted Charlotte, the young landlord who ran the place.

Her eyes widened when she saw him. "Holy shit. You actually came back?"

Alexander smirked. "Miss me?"

Charlotte scoffed. "No. I just assumed you left because of how shitty this place is."

Alexander shrugged. "Had to take care of some family stuff."

A flicker of sympathy crossed her face. "Oh… that bad?"

He nodded. "Yeah. My dad died."

Charlotte sighed, rubbing the back of her head. "Sorry, man. I lost my dad too. That shit never leaves you."

Alexander stayed silent for a moment, then changed the subject. "I still got two months before rent's due, right?"

Charlotte grinned. "Yeah, lucky you. Try not to get yourself killed before then."

Alexander chuckled and made his way up to the top floor, where his shitty apartment waited for him.

---

The room wasn't as bad as the first time he came here. He had fixed up some of the walls, but it was still a dump. Leaky pipes and a bed that felt like it was made of concrete.

He sat down on the edge of the mattress, talking with Celebrimbor in his mind.

"We need to change things up. We can't go around looking like an Asgardian warlord."

Alexander agreed. His molten Uru armor, while powerful, didn't exactly scream stealthy vigilante. If he was going to establish himself as the Silver Hand, he needed something that fit the name.

Using the power of the ring, he altered the illusion of the armor, giving it a more spectral, wraith-like appearance.

The crimson cracks of fire were replaced with cold silver and ghostly blue energy. The jagged spikes and demonic edges softened, taking on a sleeker, shadowy look. The helmet became more refined, with a haunting, faceless design.

It still held all of its divine firepower, but now, it looked like something that belonged in the shadows, something that would strike fear into criminals.

Alexander unsummoned the armor and cracked his knuckles. Time to get to work.

The night air was cool against his skin as he stood atop a building, listening to the city.

He closed his eyes, letting his enhanced senses expand. The sounds of New York washed over him—sirens blaring, cars honking, people laughing, someone yelling at a taxi driver.

Then—

A woman's scream.

Alexander's eyes snapped open.

With a burst of wraith speed, he vanished into the night, heading toward the source of the scream.

He arrived within seconds, landing in a dark alley where he saw two men and a woman surrounding a pregnant woman.

One of the men was holding a knife to her stomach, snarling, "Just give us the fucking purse, lady, or you and the baby are done."

Alexander stepped forward, his armor manifesting around him.

The criminals froze as a silver-and-blue specter emerged from the darkness.

The pregnant woman stared in shock, her eyes wide with fear.

Alexander's voice was calm, cold, and final. "Run."

The woman didn't hesitate. She bolted out of the alley, leaving Alexander alone with the three criminals.

One of them pulled out a gun. "I don't know what the fuck you are, but you're dead, freak."

Alexander moved before they could blink.

The first man didn't even get to pull the trigger before Alexander shattered his wrist, making the gun fall to the ground.

The second thug lunged at him with a knife—Alexander caught his arm mid-swing and snapped it like a twig.

The third one, a woman, dropped her weapon and fell to her knees. "Please—please, I didn't want to do this. I have three little brothers. I just needed money to feed them."

Alexander could sense the truth in her words.

Celebrimbor spoke in his mind. "She speaks honestly. But she is still guilty."

Alexander looked down at her. "Come back here tomorrow. Same time, same place."

Her eyes widened. "Why?"

"Just do it."

She nodded quickly and ran.

Alexander turned back to the two men on the ground. He reached down, grabbing them by their heads, and burned the Silver Hand into their faces, marking them permanently.

Then, for good measure, he dragged them to a nearby skyscraper and nailed them to the front of the building, their charred bodies hanging like a warning sign.

The Silver Hand had returned.

---

Back at his apartment, Alexander opened a portal to Eldrborinn's fiery realm.

He searched through the charred lands, finding precious minerals hidden within the volcanic terrain—rubies, diamonds, opals—each stone burning with unnatural brilliance.

He picked up five of each, placed them in a small bag, and returned to Earth.

Tomorrow, he would see if that woman actually showed up.

For now, he had more criminals to punish.

---

The Next Day

At the same alley, Alexander stood, waiting.

She came.

The woman was nervous, shifting on her feet as she spotted him.

Alexander tossed the bag of gems at her feet.

She stared in disbelief, her hands trembling as she opened the bag.

"These are… these are worth thousands," she whispered.

"Feed your brothers," Alexander said simply. "Don't let me see you in these streets again."

She nodded quickly. "I swear. Thank you."

Alexander didn't say another word. He vanished into the shadows.

---

Back at the apartment, Charlotte was watching the news.

The anchor was saying, "The vigilante known as the Silver Hand has returned. Some call him a hero, others a menace. What do you think? Is this violent crime-fighter making the city safer, or just another criminal?"

Charlotte scoffed. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. At least he's better than most of these so-called heroes."

Alexander smirked. "You like the Silver Hand, huh?"

Charlotte shrugged. "He's actually doing something. Not like the Avengers, who only show up for alien invasions."

Alexander chuckled. He liked hearing that.

---

Alexander needed a new bed. His current one felt like a pile of bricks.

He went to a furniture store, bought a king-sized mattress, and scheduled a delivery for tomorrow.

Then, he stopped at a tech store and bought a TV.

As he returned to his apartment, one of the residents pulled a knife on him, trying to rob him.

Alexander sighed. "You really don't want to do this."

The guy lunged.

Alexander slapped him lightly—and sent him flying into a wall, unconscious.

A little kid watching nearby giggled.

Alexander pulled out a piece of candy and handed it to him. "You didn't see anything."

The kid grinned. "Okay!"

Alexander laughed, carried his new TV upstairs, set it up, and went to sleep.

Tomorrow, the Silver Hand would hunt again.