Marvel: The Enlightened One#77+78: The Christmas Gift from the Military, One Storm After Another

Very long chapter!

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The Christmas of 2012 didn't look much different from any other year.

Holiday jingles played softly in the storefronts.

Snowflakes drifted down from the sky.

In the neighborhoods, children gathered in joyful packs, celebrating the special holiday.

The entirety of New York City was immersed in the joy of Christmas. Families were out celebrating in restaurants or gathered at home around warm fires, celebrating the arrival of the holiday.

Hawk, too, was reuniting with his family.

Just as he did every year, he boarded a bus as dusk began to fall and made his way to Calvary Cemetery. He walked through the fresh snow to spend the holiday with his sister.

Helen Stacy had invited him to spend the holiday with their family on Long Island.

But he had politely declined.

He knew that, barring any unforeseen circumstances, he and Gwen would eventually get married. They would become a family.

But that was still in the future.

And more importantly, he already had a family of his own.

So, Hawk had declined Helen’s invitation.

Growing up, he had spent every Christmas with his sister, Anya. Even after she had passed away in 2009, he had come here every year to spend the holiday with her.

Hawk knew how much his sister had loved the holidays, how much she had longed to be a part of the noisy, cheerful crowds, but her congenital heart condition had always forced her to watch from a distance.

The memory of it still twisted his heart. The thought of her spending the holiday alone, even now?

He couldn't bear it.

...

In the cemetery, Hawk placed the food his sister Anya had always loved in front of her headstone. Then he leaned back against the cool marble and sat on the ground, gazing out at the distant scenery.

The snow fell in thick, heavy flakes.

It was strange.

The snow had been falling for nearly two hours, covering the surrounding grounds in a pristine white blanket. But the ground around Hawk, and around Anya’s headstone, was as dry as a summer’s day.

Like a tiger resting in a snow-covered field, the ground around him remained untouched, as if it were still summer.

Hawk leaned against the headstone, his eyes gently closed as his consciousness sank into his Cosmo.

After three days of rest, his Cosmo had completely absorbed the gamma energy he had taken from the Hulk. It felt entirely new.

It had, without a doubt, ascended.

Gamma energy was a very real power in the Marvel Universe. And by absorbing that real power, his Cosmo had, in turn, become a little more real.

It was still a long way from a true, complete universe—worlds apart, in fact.

But even with just that tiny fraction of newfound reality, the difference between his old Cosmo and his new one was like night and day.

To put it another way: Before, Hawk had needed to use the lake to drown the Hulk. Now, that was no longer necessary.

If he were to face the Hulk now, even on land, assuming the Hulk was at the same power level, he could beat him to death with his bare hands.

That was not an exaggeration.

Most importantly, Sinking his consciousness deep into his Cosmo, Hawk looked up at the constellation blazing in his inner sky. The Phoenix—brilliant, scorching, radiating an incomparable light. And among the stars, dozens of new ones had appeared.

Yes.

Dozens of new stars.

This was another unexpected reward from his successful revenge against the Hulk.

Though perhaps it wasn’t so unexpected.

The way of the Saint was the way of holy war. Every battle Hawk fought would add new stars to his Cosmo—strengthening him—creating a feedback loop where he grew stronger with every fight.

He planned to use these new stars to ignite the constellation of Draco, the Dragon.

The Phoenix had given him the power of Immortality and Rebirth. Draco would grant him the Might of the Dragon and the Dragon's Guard.

The unbridled power of a dragon and a defense that was second to none.

That was the essence of Draco.

Among all the Saints, the Dragon was the only one whose power grew even stronger when he cast off his armor.

And besides...

This was a Dragon!!

The Phoenix’s call ignites the dawn.

The Dragon’s roar shatters the horizon.

Hawk slowly opened his eyes. He glanced at the photograph of his sister on the headstone, who seemed to be smiling at him. A soft expression touched his own face.

“The Hulk should be in Hell by now.”

“You probably saw it.”

“Don’t worry, the Abomination is next. It won’t be long.”

“And be sure to tell Mephisto, if he isn’t taking good care of you, when I get to Hell, I’m going to twist his head off and use it as a urinal.”

Just as Mephisto had once done to Zarathos.

Who's Zarathos?

The Ghost Rider. Mephisto had defeated the ancient spirit, ripped his essence from his body, and shattered it into a million pieces. The power of the Ghost Rider was just a sliver of that original, immense power.

Hawk’s voice was gentle, as if speaking this way would allow his sister to hear him in Hell.

Leaning against the headstone, Hawk closed his eyes and began to recount all the things from the past year that he thought might have amused his sister, his voice a low, rambling murmur.

In these moments, Hawk was no longer the quiet, reserved young man he usually was. He was very talkative.

He even told her about today’s top headline.

Tony Stark’s battle with the Extremis-powered Aldrich Killian at the Port of Rose Hill in Tennessee, and the spectacular fireworks display he had made with his Iron Legion.

"...Last night, at the Port of Rose Hill, Tennessee, a battle of unprecedented scale culminated in a hero's dramatic farewell and a startling public confession."

"After successfully thwarting the deadly threat posed by the terrorist Aldrich Killian and his Extremis soldiers, Tony Stark made a stunning move—"

"He ordered his remaining Iron Legion suits to fly into the sky and self-destruct in a priceless fireworks display that lit up the night."

"And just this morning, at seven a.m, Tony Stark reappeared and gave an interview, stating..."

...

Leaning against the headstone, Hawk recited the morning paper from memory, his voice a low murmur.

The cemetery was silent, save for his voice.

If a timid person had been passing by and heard that low, demonic whisper in the darkness, they would have thought they had just seen a ghost.

After a while, Hawk’s voice faded. He leaned against his sister Anya’s headstone, as if he had fallen asleep.

Just like last year, and the year before, Hawk planned to stay here and spend Christmas with his sister.

After all, this would probably be the last time.

Because next year, by Christmas at the latest, he would find a way to Hell, and he would bring her back.

Mephisto could either give him his sister, or he could die.

There was no other choice.

...

Time passed.

The distant noises from outside the cemetery faded as the hours went by. In that moment, it felt as if all of New York City had fallen silent.

But then, he heard it. A faint, rhythmic sound, carried on the wind, accompanied by a low, almost imperceptible tremor in the ground.

Footsteps...

The grinding of tank treads.

The sounds grew louder, closer.

At the same time, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket.

He had silenced the ringer in case Gwen called, but he hadn’t turned it off. Feeling the vibration, Hawk opened his eyes and pulled out his phone.

He looked at the caller ID.

It wasn’t Gwen.

It was Anna.

Hawk thought for a moment, then answered the call.

“Hello...”

“Hawk, I just got word. The military knows you’re the one who broke into the Quantico base. They’ve locked onto your position and they’ve already sent a team after you.”

The moment he answered, Anna’s urgent voice came through the phone.

The message was clear: They’re here to collect you...

Hawk’s brow furrowed. He released the tight control he normally kept on his five senses.

Instantly. He heard the rumble of armored vehicles rolling across the ground.

The clatter of weapons and gear as soldiers moved into position.

Hawk didn't speak. He simply hung up the phone. His face was stone-cold as he stood up and looked toward the sky, watching the armed helicopter in the distance—searchlight blazing, rotors thundering as it closed in fast.

A moment later, the lead helicopter was directly overhead. Its searchlight slammed down, pinning him in a brilliant, blinding cone of white light.

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!

The helicopter stabilized its position over the cemetery. The cabin door slid open, and a soldier took his seat behind a minigun, aiming the weapon—capable of firing hundreds of rounds a second—directly at the figure in the searchlight.

At the same time—

CRASH!

Two armored vehicles, each mounted with some kind of sonic cannon, smashed through the cemetery gates. They drove straight through the rows of headstones, crushing them under their treads as they rumbled to a stop in front of Hawk.

Click-clack.

Click-clack.

Federal soldiers poured in behind them. With the searchlights and sonic cannons in position, the soldiers all chambered their weapons. Some standing, some kneeling, they all aimed their rifles at the lone figure standing before them.

War.

WAS ABOUT TO BEGIN.

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The helicopter thundered overhead.

Searchlights flooded Calvary Cemetery, turning night into day.

On the ground, the two armored vehicles with their sonic cannons and the helicopter with its minigun formed a deadly crossfire, trapping Hawk in the center. The federal soldiers’ weapons gleamed under the harsh lights.

And in the center of it all, Hawk just smiled. It was a wide, genuine, and utterly terrifying smile.

Just then, a piercing screech came from the helicopter’s loudspeakers, followed by the booming voice of General Ross, echoing across the cemetery.

“HAWK, YOU ARE SURROUNDED!!”

General Thaddeus Ross, who had mobilized his forces the instant he got Hawk’s location, was watching from the command center at the Quantico military base.

He stared at the image of Hawk on the main screen, caught in the spotlight with nowhere to run, and his voice was a low growl. “You are under arrest for crimes against national security and the unauthorized breach of a military installation—”

Ross felt a sense of relief.

His initial plan had been to send a special forces team, but learning Hawk’s location was a public cemetery had changed his calculus.

This wasn’t Manhattan.

This wasn’t some city street. It was a cemetery. He’d faced no consequences for the destruction in Manhattan; what did he care about a cemetery?

Ross was determined to capture Hawk.

So, There was no more talk.

From his command center in Quantico, Ross broadcast his voice across New York City to Calvary Cemetery.

“You have ten seconds to surrender!”

“Prepare to fire!”

WHIRRRRR!

As Ross’s words fell, the minigun on the helicopter began to spin up, its barrels locking onto Hawk, ready to turn him into a bloody mess in less than a second.

BEEEEEP!

The two sonic cannons on the armored vehicles began to charge, their operators’ hands steady on the controls.

CLICK-CLACK!

The federal soldiers surrounding Hawk chambered their rounds, and rocket launchers were shouldered, all aimed at their single target.

Hawk followed the sound of Ross’s voice, his gaze lifting past the blinding searchlights to the camera mounted beneath the helicopter.

His eyes locked onto the lens, and it felt as if he were staring right through the void, making direct eye contact with General Ross in his command center.

A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. His voice was quiet, but it carried perfectly through the microphone, clear as a bell in the Quantico war room.

“Thaddeus Ross.”

“I just remembered.”

“I almost forgot about you. Thank you for reminding me.”

“...”

General Ross’s expression faltered. Before he could even process the words, he realized what had happened.

The man who had been standing in the searchlight was gone.

“Wha—”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

“Aaargh!”

By the time the searchlights found Hawk again, one of the armored vehicles was already airborne.

The screams of the sonic cannon’s operator were cut short as the overturned vehicle slammed back down to earth, crushing him instantly.

Before Ross could even react, the second vehicle was also sent flying through the air.

Ross’s eyes narrowed.

"OPEN FIRE!"

WHIRRRRR!

The helicopter, which had been hovering in place, began to move. The operator in the cabin gripped the controls of the minigun.

In that instant, The minigun unleashed its fury, spitting a torrent of fire at the ground below.

Pew-pew-pew-pew-pew!

A relentless storm of bullets rained down.

It tore through the earth, sending dirt and shrapnel flying. It pulverized tombstones, turning sacred ground into a cratered wasteland. It ripped through the bodies of federal soldiers caught in the crossfire...

Collateral damage...

“Fire!”

“Fire!”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

One of the soldiers, seeing Hawk send a comrade flying with a casual backhand, overcame his panic and fired the rocket launcher on his shoulder.

The rocket, trailing a long plume of smoke, shot directly at Hawk.

Hawk turned to face it.

CRASH!

The rocket slammed into Hawk’s chest, a direct hit that blossomed into a massive fireball, the shockwave engulfing two nearby soldiers and setting them ablaze.

...

“Did we get him?”

Not only was the soldier who fired the rocket overjoyed, but even General Ross, watching from his command center, felt a surge of triumph.

But—

It was impossible.

Before the look of joy could even fade from the soldier’s face, Hawk strode out of the flames, the upper half of his shirt now burning away.

Thump.

The soldier felt a searing pain in his chest and instinctively looked down.

He saw it.

A fist-sized hole...

“SHIT!”

“Shoot him!”

WHIRRRRR!

The soldier in the helicopter, watching the bloody scene unfold in the stark light of the searchlamp, cried out in shock and immediately swung the minigun back onto Hawk, who was now tearing away the burning remnants of his shirt.

Hawk looked up.

PING-PING-PING!

TANG-TANG-TANG!

A hailstorm of bullets from the minigun slammed into Hawk. He didn’t even try to dodge.

The bullets struck his head, his face, and his bare torso, revealing a physique carved from pure steel.

Bullets like these couldn’t even scratch the Hulk. What chance did they have against Hawk, who had now absorbed the Hulk’s gamma energy?

Hawk took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the helicopter above. The ground beneath his feet cracked as he launched himself into the air like a cannonball.

The helicopter pilot screamed, yanking at his controls, trying to evade.

Alas...

It was too late.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Like a human missile, Hawk shot straight through the helicopter. A split second later, a massive fireball erupted from the gaping hole in its hull, followed by a thunderous explosion. The flaming wreckage plummeted earthward, smashing through dozens of headstones before slamming into the ground in a cloud of dirt and fire.

...

"..." Far away in his command center, General Ross stared in disbelief at the static-filled main screen.

The soldiers on the ground, who had just witnessed this inhuman feat, were completely frozen in shock.

The surviving soldiers saw a streak of light land on the ground and shoot toward them.

Their training kicked in, and they turned to run.

But it was too late for them, too.

Killing one is still killing. Killing two is the same. So killing fifty more... It was just a matter of numbers.

In the blink of an eye, the tables had turned completely.

The once-aggressive federal soldiers were now like dogs with their tails between their legs, their screams and cries filling the night as they ran for their lives, wishing they had been born with more legs.

They scrambled for the cemetery gates.

One of the soldiers, hearing the screams of his comrades fade behind him, saw the cemetery gates just ahead. A flicker of hope ignited in his chest.

The next second, That joy was frozen in place. Not just his expression, but his entire body.

The soldier looked down and saw it. A bloody hand was holding a small, still-beating thing in front of his face.

Instinct told him it was his heart.

That was the last thought the soldier ever had. His eyes went dark, his body went limp, and he crumpled to the ground.

...

By the time Spider-Man arrived at the cemetery, all he could do was stare in disbelief. Peter, crouched on top of the cemetery wall, couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The ground was churned up, as if it had been plowed by a tractor.

Shattered tombstones lay scattered like broken teeth.

The dismembered bodies of soldiers were strewn everywhere.

In the distance, the bisected wreck of the helicopter was still burning.

And then he saw it.

The two overturned armored vehicles. The door of one of them had been kicked open from the inside, and a soldier, his head covered in blood, was struggling to crawl out.

The next moment, The soldier, halfway out, seemed to sense something. He struggled to lift his head—

—And saw Hawk, bare-chested, standing before him, his face devoid of all emotion.

The soldier opened his mouth.

“I only...”

SPLAT!

“...”

Peter flinched as he watched the soldier’s head explode like a watermelon.

By the time he recovered, Hawk was gone.

Where did he go?

Peter shot a web and swung down into the carnage.

He landed softly and saw him, standing a short distance away, his hand gently tracing the photograph on a small, simple headstone.

Hawk’s right hand traced the picture of his sister, a fire now burning in his heart.

Peter walked cautiously toward him.

“Haw—”

“Peter.”

Hawk pulled his hand back and turned to face him, cutting him off. “If someone tried to destroy Uncle Ben’s grave, what would you do?”

What?

Uncle Ben.

Peter didn’t even have to think about it. “I’d kill them.”

This was not the Amazing Spider-Man, nor the tech-savvy one. This was the original, a young man who, after his Uncle Ben was killed, had hunted down the robber and killed him, never once thinking of letting the law handle it.

That was why Hawk liked this version of Peter Parker.

He was shy and reserved, just like him.

And just like him, he repaid every kindness and avenged every wrong.

Hawk wasn’t surprised by his answer. He gestured to Anya’s headstone. “This is my sister, Anya. Are you going to try and stop me from getting my revenge?”

Peter’s eyes twitched. He looked at Hawk—at his emotionless face, and the inferno of rage burning deep within his eyes—and said nothing. He just silently stepped aside.

Hawk smiled faintly.

“Thanks.”

“Do you need hel—”

Peter started to ask, but before he could finish, Hawk vanished from sight.

He was left standing alone in the silent, ruined cemetery, the wail of distant police sirens finally reaching him.

“Shit.”

"This is bad. This is really, really bad."

Peter snapped back to reality.