Marvel: The Enlightened One#57+58: Anya—My Sister, A Power Bought with a Sister's Life

The next morning.

Monday.

Hawk was up before the sun. He had already requested the day off last Friday, but he didn’t head straight for the cemetery.

Instead, he packed the five Chitauri weapons into a brand-new golf bag he’d bought the day before—and took a cab to a small burrito shop near a local orphanage.

The owner, a Mexican man who seemed to recognize him, looked genuinely surprised when Hawk walked in.

"Hawk..." the owner began, then a flicker of understanding crossed his face. "Is it the tenth already?"

Hawk nodded, pulling a few crumpled bills from his pocket and handing them over.

The owner took the cash with a familiar nod. "Just a minute."

A short while later, two freshly made burritos were packed and ready to go.

Hawk took the bag, offered a quiet "thanks," and left, the golf bag heavy on his shoulder.

...

An hour later, after a long, meandering walk through the surrounding neighborhoods, Hawk hailed another cab. He was now carrying nearly a dozen bags of takeout from various local restaurants.

His destination: Calvary Cemetery.

Sprawling across the border of Brooklyn and Queens, Calvary Cemetery was a historic landmark, founded in 1848.

Logically, after more than a century, it should have been completely full. And it was. But in 1984, the cemetery was purchased from the city by a private corporation.

And just like that, Calvary became a for-profit enterprise.

The new owners began a "cleanup." Three months later, the cemetery reopened, with thousands of new plots suddenly available.

No one asked where the old occupants had gone.

And no one protested.

To keep up with the times, the new owners even developed a special section on a pristine, north-facing hill—prime real estate with beautiful views and peaceful surroundings to attract discerning clientele. They also kept their government contracts for state-funded burials.

It was nine in the morning by the time Hawk arrived.

The guard at the gate inspected the paperwork Hawk provided, gave a curious glance at the golf bag, but waved him through without a search.

The cemetery was massive, a quiet kingdom of the dead spanning two boroughs.

Hawk had been here many times before. He knew the way by heart. A fifteen-minute walk along a winding stone path brought him to a small, simple headstone.

A photograph was affixed to the marble, showing a young girl with a sweet, radiant smile.

Below it, her name was engraved.

ANYA

May 20, 1995 – September 10, 2009

Hawk set the golf bag down on the grass. He crouched in front of the grave and carefully, almost reverently, arranged the bags of food on the small stone ledge before it—a feast for two. He then looked up at the photograph, at the smiling face frozen in time.

Hawk didn't speak.

He just watched, and as he stared at her smile, a genuine, unguarded smile of his own slowly formed—the same one that appeared each morning when he first saw the matching photo on his nightstand.

After a moment, he pulled his phone from his pocket—already turned off so he wouldn't be disturbed—and set it aside. He shifted, leaning his back against the cool stone of the headstone, and looked out at the view.

From a distance, it was as if he and the girl in the photograph were sitting together, their gazes fixed on the same horizon, sharing the quiet beauty of the morning.

...

Far across the city.

Midtown School of Science and Technology.

"Gwen, have you seen Hawk??"

"Uh..."

Gwen, who was just about to put her backpack in her locker, paused as a call from Mrs. Snow, the guidance counselor, came through.

"Didn't he ask you for the day off?"

"He did, but I just got off the phone with NYU. Their admissions officers are coming to the school today."

"...They're here for Hawk?"

"Yes. But I can't reach him. God, when he didn't have a phone, I couldn't reach him. Now he has one, and he keeps it turned off!" Mrs. Snow sounded like she was at the end of her rope. This was somehow worse than him not having a phone at all.

"I thought maybe he told you where he was going. Do you have any idea?"

"Well..."

Gwen hesitated. She had a pretty good idea of where he was, but she didn't know if he wanted her to know. She knew today was important to him, a private day.

"The NYU reps are finalizing their early admissions list today. If Hawk doesn't show up, he could miss his chance. It would be such a shame."

"Okay."

Hearing that, Gwen made her decision. She knew how much preparation Hawk had put into his NYU application. This was his future on the line. She couldn't let him miss it. "Alright, Mrs. Snow. I'll go find him. But I might need to take the rest of the day off."

A wave of relief washed over Mrs. Snow's voice. "Sure."

After hanging up, Mrs. Snow shook her head, then a small smile touched her lips.

Of course.

It had to be Gwen.

...

On the other end, Gwen ended the call, stuffed her textbooks back into her locker, grabbed her bag, and headed for the parking lot. Within minutes, her yellow Corolla was pulling out of the school and heading for the highway.

She drove straight to Calvary Cemetery.

She parked outside the main gate and explained the situation to the staff, who let her in without any issue.

Gwen seemed to know her way around. She followed the stone path, and as she rounded a familiar corner, she saw him. He was leaning back against a small headstone, one leg stretched out, the other bent, his arm resting casually on his knee.

Hawk, lost in his own world, heard the soft crunch of footsteps on the gravel. His focus snapped back to the present, and he turned to see Gwen walking cautiously toward him.

Seeing the small, unsurprised smile that formed on his face, Gwen felt a wave of relief. She walked over, her steps slowing as she approached.

She walked over, but she didn't ask him about NYU. Instead, her eyes fell on the tombstone, on the photograph of the girl—the same one from the frame on his nightstand. She looked from the photo to Hawk, who was still leaning against the stone, and her voice was soft, gentle.

"Can you tell me about her?"

Hawk smiled faintly, his gaze turning back to the picture on the headstone.

"Anya."

"My..."

"Sister."

"..."

<><><><><><><><>

"My sister."

"We were found on the steps of St. Paul's Community Church in Queens."

"The only thing we had on us was a slip of paper with our birthdates."

"Hawk and Anya. The priest at the church gave us our names."

"Anya always loved her name."

Hawk, leaning against his sister Anya’s headstone, didn’t bother asking Gwen how she had found him. He knew it would have been a pointless question.

He spoke softly. "Anya was always happy."

"She lived her life happily. Even when the hole in her heart kept her in and out of the hospital, she never stopped smiling."

Fortunately, because they were orphans, he never had to worry about medical bills, no matter how many times she was admitted. The state and federal government covered everything.

He glanced at Gwen, who was now sitting beside him, her back resting against the same headstone. "Sometimes I wonder if that's why they left us. If they knew that by making us orphans, they were guaranteeing we'd get the best care, free of charge..."

Gwen's expression tightened, and she just shook her head.

"Weren't there any birth records when they found you?"

"None."

Hawk shook his head. "The church checked with all the hospitals in the city, but there were no matches. A doctor later suggested we were probably born at home, not in a hospital."

Home births weren't uncommon.

Especially among families with strong religious convictions. The more extreme ones wouldn't go to a hospital even if it meant both mother and child dying during a complicated birth.

"But it doesn't matter."

"I never wanted to find them. They chose to abandon us, so we owe them nothing." Hawk shrugged, then continued his story.

"At first, there were people who wanted to adopt us."

"But because of Anya's heart condition, most of them backed out."

"Father Moses was a good man. He didn't want to separate us, so he became our legal guardian, and we stayed at the church until we were four."

"But then he passed away, and Anya and I were sent to a group home."

"We grew up there."

A group home—a residential facility designed like a large family, where a dozen or so orphans were cared for by staff from a nonprofit.

Gwen frowned. "No one ever took you in? Not even a foster family?"

"Who would want us?"

Hawk let out a short, humorless laugh. "The moment Anya left the system, her medical bills would have become their responsibility. And I was never going to leave my sister. Foster care was an option—they wouldn't have to pay for her treatment—but the foster system... heh."

Adoption and foster care were two different worlds.

One was usually about love. The other, more often than not, was about the check.

Many foster families took in kids just to collect the government subsidies, using the money for themselves while providing the bare minimum for the children in their care. As long as the kids didn't die, no one looked too closely.

Gwen had heard enough stories from her father to know this was true. She simply nodded, acknowledging the bitter reality in his words.

"So, what happened...?" Gwen's voice trailed off. She glanced at the dates on Anya's headstone.

1995.5.20 - 2009.9.10

Her gaze lifted, and she looked around at the other graves in this section of the cemetery.

"I remember this section. Most of the people buried here were the ones who died during the fight between the Hulk and the Abomination..."

"..." A flicker of something cold and hard passed through Hawk's eyes. It was there and gone in an instant. He looked at her and nodded.

"That's right..."

"Anya didn't die from her illness. She was killed by the collateral damage from that battle."

The pieces clicked into place. Gwen finally understood. "So all these years, all your training... it's for..."

"VENGEANCE!!!"

Hawk turned to face her, the word forced from between his teeth, the flames of vengeance finally burning free in his eyes. "I repay every kindness, and I avenge every wrong."

He had been an orphan in his past life, and he was an orphan in this one. But here, he had a sister, someone who had been with him from the very beginning.

So even when he was thrust into this new world—the Marvel Universe—without any powers, he had never felt lost.

Hawk had always been content with what he had.

He never had any grand ambitions of changing the world. His dreams were simple: Find happiness in what he had.

No powers? Fine. Life goes on.

He worked hard in school. He maintained his grades, even in the underfunded public system, until he caught the eye of a recruiter from Midtown Tech and was offered a scholarship.

His plan had been simple: study hard, get a good job, and make enough money to pay for his sister's treatment.

On that day—September 10th, 2009—during his first weekend as a Midtown student, he took his sister to Times Square. They took a picture, a snapshot of a moment Hawk believed would be the turning point in their lives, a memory they would cherish forever.

And it was a turning point.

Just not the kind he had imagined.

After their day out, as they were waiting for the bus to go home, the unthinkable happened.

The Abomination appeared. Then the Hulk.

The two monsters began to tear the city apart.

When Hawk had watched it in the movies, he had thought the fight scene was spectacular. But being in the middle of it, he saw the carnage hidden behind the spectacle.

The screams.

The agony, the terror—in the face of that battle, normal people were utterly helpless.

Hawk was there, in the chaos, pulling his sister through the stampeding crowd, trying to escape.

And then...

The Hulk smashed the Abomination into the side of a building. The facade crumbled, and a wave of concrete and steel rained down from the sky, directly on top of them.

That night, Hawk lost his sister.

And in that same moment, his power awakened.

A Blessing?

Hardly...

It was a curse, bought and paid for with his sister's life!!

The ones responsible for her death... they shared the same sky as him, but not for long.

A debt of blood has been incurred. And Hawk would see it paid in full.

...