Inheritance of Night

POV: First Person (Silas)

The View

The city sprawled beneath me—alive, restless, and impossibly vast. No photo or painting could capture the way New York pulsed from this height, the way it glowed and breathed, chaos barely contained by the grid of streets and towers. I leaned against the Empire State Building's railing, hoodie tugged by the wind, watching my family behind me: Mom laughing with Aunt Lydia, Michelle and Brian posing for engagement photos, the photographer barking orders.

I should have felt normal. Just another tourist. But New York never let you forget its edge. Sirens, petty crime, Spider-Man tackling a guy in a porcupine suit across a deli roof—yesterday's entertainment. The city smiled, but always with a knife behind its back.

And right then, I felt it: a pressure behind my eyes, a storm in my chest. Instinct. Something was coming.

A Few Hours Earlier

The Airbnb was filled with the scent of coffee, perfume, and freshly ironed clothes. Mom hummed as she twisted her hair into a bun, looking happy and tired in a way that only comes from trying too hard to relax. Michelle spun in a sundress, Face Timing her best friend about pre-wedding photos. I laced my boots, trying not to look like I was eavesdropping.

Brian, my cousin's fiancé, had that quiet gravity—broad-shouldered, calm, hands that looked like they belonged to a firefighter (because they did). He handed me a granola bar, already treating me like family.

"You ever been to the Empire State Building?" he asked.

I shook my head. "First time."

"Then we're doing it right. Full skyline. Michelle's got a photographer set up—"

Michelle poked her head out. "It's not a real shoot, just a few photos for the 'Gram, not Vogue."

Brian grinned. "Either way, you're coming. Gotta get at least one shot of the whole gang before the wedding."

I shrugged. "Sure."

For a moment, I wondered what it was like to be that secure, to belong everywhere.

Back to Now

I wasn't sure what made me turn. But I did—just in time to see the sky split open.

BOOM.

Glass exploded, scattering like diamond shrapnel. Screams echoed across the observation deck. Phones clattered. People ran. Chaos didn't build—it arrived.

I threw my arm around my mom, shoving her behind a bench. Michelle screamed; Brian covered her, tucking her behind a pillar as more glass rained down.

And then I saw him.

Green Goblin.

He stood on a blackened glider—sleek, angular, blade-edged wings humming with menace. His armor was war-ready, bolted plates over reinforced weave. But his face was the monster: sickly green skin, knife-sharp cheekbones, gold eyes darting with chaos, a grin full of surgical teeth.

He spread his arms.

"My, my, what a view. A kingdom of glass and insects."

His voice echoed, rich with static and madness.

"You think your little lives matter? Your babies and job interviews and birthday dinners? You're background noise. You're scenery. And today, I edit the scene."

He dropped a pumpkin bomb. WHUMP. Orange fire bloomed.

I tackled a man away from the blast. Metal groaned. Glass cracked. Sparks leapt across the deck.

Goblin wasn't hitting randomly—he targeted the east corner, low and focused. The deck began to tilt. People screamed, sliding toward the edge, clawing for anything solid.

Michelle clung to a girder. Mom gripped a railing, arm shaking. Brian braced himself, holding them both, yelling for others to stay low.

I met Mom's eyes.

"I'll get help," I said.

She started to speak, but I was already gone.

Stairwell – Moments Later

The door slammed behind me, muting the chaos. I dropped the civilian mask. Let the shadow rise. Smoke curled across my arms, armor spreading—familiar, light suit.

Top Deck – Seconds Later

A puff of black smoke gathers. And I reappeared—Sentinel now—full black, silent, shadow-forged.

I moved to Brian's side, grabbed my mom and Michelle, and teleported them down.

They scream as they panicked in terror, but then—

We were on the street in the next second, just outside the tower. The gathering crowds screamed and pointed in awe and shocked. At the same time, one could hear sirens in the distance with Flashing lights. The crowd started taking out their Phones to record everything. I vanished again and reappeared beside a crying child and their injured dad grabbed them and Teleported. I repeated it again, and again.

Each jump left a shadow echo, smoke twisting through the air. Civilians gasped, some screamed, one woman clutched her chest like I'd brought death instead of salvation.

I didn't stop.

Meanwhile – Above

The building groaned. A section of the frame peeled off, dropping like a steel fang. A man slipped, screamed, lost his grip—

*THWIP*

A red blur flew across the sky.

Spider-Man.

He caught the falling man, swung hard, twisted mid-air, landed on a rooftop, set the guy down, fired another line, and yanked himself back into the fray.

He reached for a woman dangling from the edge—

VRMMMMMMM.

Goblin swooped in, glider shrieking.

"You're late, spider! The show started without you!"

Spidey webbed onto an antenna, slingshot forward, and slammed a fist into Goblin's jaw.

CRACK.

The glider spun. Goblin reeled.

Spidey planted a foot on his chest, flipped backward, launched toward the deck, still trying to rescue more people.

Goblin didn't like that.

Four compartments opened on his armor. Drones shot out—miniature blades buzzing, armed and tracking.

Spider-Man didn't see them.

But I did.

I teleported mid-air, appearing beside him, grabbing his forearm.

He tensed, then blinked as we vanished—

—and reappeared above Goblin, sky roaring in our ears.

I met his eyes, voice steady.

"Focus on that idiot. Leave the rest to me."

He didn't argue. I threw him—straight down, fast as a missile. Spider-Man twisted, legs curled, body aimed. He crashed into Goblin, metal rattling. And I was already gone—teleporting again, more people screaming, more lives sliding toward death. I had work to do