Marvel: Silver Hand

It had been a few days since Alexander Athos—the Silver Hand—had worked with Daredevil.

Since then, things had been quiet.

No ambushes. No superheroes trying to fight him or recruit him. No major crimes.

Just patrolling the streets, making criminals fear the Silver Hand, and marking those who deserved it.

Tonight?

He was just chilling.

Alexander sat on his shitty couch, a pizza box open beside him, watching some dumb sitcom on his brand-new TV.

He had just gotten off the phone with Emma—a rare peaceful moment in his chaotic life.

And for once?

He was in a good mood.

Until—

A commotion downstairs.

Raised voices.

An argument.

Alexander frowned. "Celebrimbor, check it out."

The wraith phased through the floor, descending to the ground level.

Seconds later, he returned.

And his words wiped away Alexander's good mood instantly.

---

"It's Charlotte," Celebrimbor said. "She's arguing with some man. He claims to be her brother—and that he rightfully owns the building."

Alexander's eyes narrowed. "The hell?"

"She's fighting back," Celebrimbor continued. "But he stormed off, saying she'll be hearing from his lawyers."

Alexander's fist clenched.

Then—a crash.

Charlotte had collapsed onto the floor, sobbing.

Alexander shot up, about to rush downstairs—

"Stop."** Celebrimbor's voice was firm.**

Alexander turned to him, seething. "Why?"

"You don't know the full story."

"I don't need to."

"Yes, you do. What if he's telling the truth? What if the building really does belong to him?"

Alexander gritted his teeth.

He hated this.

He hated not being able to just fix things with his fists.

But Celebrimbor was right.

So instead?

They would wait.

---

Alexander had just come back from a pizza place, enjoying the night—

Until he saw Charlotte and that same man arguing again.

This time?

He didn't hold back.

He walked up, his presence like a storm approaching.

The man turned—and froze.

"Get the hell out." Alexander's voice was calm but heavy—a voice that promised violence.

The man's face twisted in anger, but one look at Alexander's cold gray eyes, and he backed off.

"This isn't over."

He left.

Alexander turned to Charlotte, who looked exhausted, her eyes red from stress and lack of sleep.

She sighed. "I can't afford lawyers, Alex. If he takes this to court, I'm done."

Alexander frowned. "I know a guy."

Charlotte looked at him suspiciously. "A lawyer?"

Alexander nodded. "Matthew Murdock. One of the owners of Nelson and Murdock."

"I can't afford big-time lawyers, Alex."

"You don't have to."

Alexander pulled out his phone and sent her $10,000.

Her eyes widened.

She looked at him, shocked—then hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Alex. You never have to pay rent again."

Alexander laughed. "I'll still pay, don't worry."

Charlotte smiled. "I'll go tomorrow."

Alexander nodded. "Want me to come with you?"

She shook her head. "I can handle it."

---

Later that night, Alexander was working out doing some pull ups—

When he heard the door open.

Charlotte walked in.

And she was beat to hell.

Bruises. A bloody lip. A swollen cheek.

Alexander shot up instantly. "Who did this?"

Charlotte winced, waving him off. "I'm fine, Alex."

Alexander ignored her. "What. Happened."

Charlotte sighed. "Nelson and Murdock accepted my case. They even offered to do it cheap, so I can give you your money back."

"Keep it."

She nodded. "After I left, some thugs jumped me. But…"

She smirked.

"Matt Murdock saved me."

Alexander froze.

Charlotte laughed. "You wouldn't believe how well he fights for a blind guy."

Alexander grinned, shaking his head.

He helped Charlotte to the couch. "You need anything?"

"I'm good. Thanks, Alex."

Satisfied, Alexander left.

Tonight?

He was going on patrol.

---

After dealing with some muggers and gangsters, Alexander stood on a rooftop, watching the city.

Then—

A shadow moved.

Alexander turned.

Daredevil.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen stood across from him, arms crossed.

"We need to talk."

Alexander smirked. "What's wrong, Matt? Mad that I know your secret?"

Daredevil tensed. "You tampered with my mind."

Alexander rolled his eyes. "I didn't 'tamper.' I just… looked."

Daredevil. "That's tampering".

Alexander laughs. "Well I guess it is."

Daredevil threw his batons at his head.

Alexander caught it.

He threw one back—fast.

Daredevil dodged and caught the baton.

Then he attacked.

---

The fight was brutal and fast.

Alexander held back, not using his wraith or divine powers—only raw skill.

Daredevil was fast, moving with fluid precision.

Alexander was stronger, but Daredevil matched him in sheer technique.

Their batons clashed again and again, sparks flying.

A perfect balance of offense and defense.

Until—

Alexander used his wraith powers for a split second.

He vanished—

And struck Daredevil in the ribs, sending him flying.

Daredevil groaned, getting up slowly.

Alexander twirled Daredevil's baton in his hand. "Nice weapon. Doubles as a staff and a walking stick. Clever."

Daredevil wiped blood from his mouth. "Give it back."

Alexander tossed it to him. "I could make you something even better."

Daredevil ignored him, picking up his batons.

Alexander sighed. "Look, I'm not gonna tell anyone you're Matt Murdock."

Daredevil glared. "How can I trust you?"

Alexander smirked. "Because when I make a promise, I never break it."

Daredevil didn't respond.

Then—click.

Cameras.

A group of people on a nearby rooftop were taking photos of them.

"Shit." Daredevil muttered.

Alexander laughs.

They both disappeared into the night.

---

Before parting ways, Daredevil stopped him.

"Meet me tomorrow night near Nelson and Murdock. We're taking down the leader of the Russian mob."

Alexander smirked. "Sounds fun. I'll be there."

They went their separate ways.

Alexander returned to his apartment.

Celebrimbor's voice echoed. "Was it wise to fight him Alexander you could have just left?"

Alexander chuckled. "Probably not. But it was fun."

Celebrimbor sighed."one day that fun of your's is gonna kill you."

Alexander laughs. "I know."

He pulled out his phone.

Called Emma.

No answer.

"Huh. Weird."

He tossed his phone on the couch, grabbed a controller, and started playing video games.