Marvelous Martial Arts (A Marvel Story)

Reaching the end of the Brooklyn Bridge, Mason felt his breath get somewhat hurried; this small distance caused a strain on his body. This body he had gotten truly was pathetically weak. Still, as he looked up where Old Mason’s soul had disappeared, a smile tugged at his lips.

That smile quickly turned into a scowl, though as he cursed under his breath, ”Why did that fool have to go all the way to the Brooklyn Bridge to kill himself? He didn’t even take his phone, so I can’t get a taxi either.”

Although he was complaining, in reality Mason was happy he got to walk the way back home. After spending a whole 18 years trapped inside without being able to control it in the slightest, even this strenuous walk felt liberating.

All this time, although he had been able to feel Old Mason’s feelings and physical sensations, they also felt foreign, and walking never felt like walking.

With every step he took, Mason enjoyed the sensation of the muscles in his legs operating, the fresh breeze caressing his uncovered face.

Never would he have thought that the very sensation of standing on actual solid ground would feel this great. How many people could say they missed gravity? Perhaps only astronauts, although considering the world he had been put in, Mason guessed it was not as exceptional as it should have been.

However, as Mason was casually enjoying the feelings brought by his mortal shell, he suddenly heard a distressed cry for help.

His hands not leaving his pockets, Mason sighed and walked toward the nearby alley, feeling partly amused and exasperated. Of course he would come across a crime on his first walk; he was in Marvel’s New York after all.

Regular New York was already dangerous enough, but Marvel’s version was ten times worse, and it was only going to worsen with time. Superheroes did need crime to occupy themselves, after all.

Reaching the narrow alleyway, Mason glanced in and spotted the one who had cried out.

It was a blond woman. Her long hair fell down her back in waves, and she had youthful features, with full cheeks, a thin nose, and sparkling blue eyes. She was tall. Mason estimated she was in her early twenties. Unfortunately, at this moment, those features were ruined by her messed-up makeup and fear. She was dressed well, in a fancy black dress, so he guessed she was back from either a party or a club.

Surrounding her were the cause of her woes, four young men. Boys more than men, but they still were big enough to block her way, forcing her against the wall. And as despair was about to take over the young woman, she spotted the new figure.

Mason did not look very threatening with his smallish and thin body, but it did not matter to her. He might as well have been Iron Man right then as she cried again, ”Help!”

The four followed her gaze, hearing the more immediate intent behind her cry, and instantly spotted Mason. A couple of them looked scared of having been caught. One of them was noticeably calmer, though as he spat down and cursed, ”Fuck off before I skewer you!”

His attitude, coupled with his ‘thuggish’ outfit and posture, would certainly have been enough to intimidate the average person, but Mason looked at him nonplussed, reasoning, ”Skewer me? What are you, some 18th-century bandit?”

Mason performed a mock bow, adding, ”Release the lady, and we may resolve this like gentlemen.”

The thug looked livid at Mason mocking him, taking out a knife as he threatened him, ”Walk away now, or you’ll never walk again bitch!”

Mason stared at the small knife, snorting, ”For fuck’s sake, did you repeat those in the mirror? Drop that before someone gets hurt.”

The thug looked utterly discombobulated by Mason’s confidence, likely having expected him to be much more scared. Mason now understood this was no real thug, but some boy playing bandit.

This ‘thug’ tried to find bravado in his friends, scoffing with faux-confidence, ”Is this guy for real?”

His friends tried to laugh, but they were obviously out of their element. Whatever the reason for their actions was, this was clearly not something they were used to doing. Seeing this, Mason decided it was the best moment to press on, ”Try to use that blade, and I’ll break your bones.”

The sudden shift was apparently jarring enough as the thug looked between Mason and the girl, and after a moment of hesitation, clicked his tongue and hollered, ”She probably a broke girl anyway!”

Mason smiled, but did not say anything, watching them leave. A fight was about the last thing he wanted with this body.

The four of them hurried out of the alley, keeping a careful eye on Mason until they disappeared, all the while attempting to hide their faces in their hoodies. They looked like a bunch of children who had been caught misbehaving, which they might as well have been.

Once they had left, Mason looked down at the woman who was down on her knees, leaning against the wall as she sobbed quietly. These four might have been no real criminals; the experience was all too real to her.

Crouching to her level but keeping a respectful distance, Mason offered in a light tone, ”I would offer you a tissue, but I don’t have anything on me.”

The woman, unwilling to just sit there and cry, wiped her eyes, forcing herself to calm down as she quietly said, ”Thank you.”

Mason smiled kindly, asking as he extended a hand, ”Can you get up?”

She nodded shakily, taking his arm for support after a second of hesitation. As she rose, Mason noticed she had bruised knees, but he chose not to say anything. He also took a step back the moment she was up, keeping a good meter between them as he intoned, ”I would call the police, but I don’t have my phone on me.”

”It’s fine, there’s no need.”

Mason kept quiet for a moment before saying, ”Well, it’s about time I get back home. Have a good evening.”

But as he proceeded to walk out of the alley, he felt her grab his sleeve, and looking back, he saw fear mixed with hope as she pleaded, ”Can you… Could you walk me back home, please?”

She looked like she was afraid he would refuse, so Mason smiled reassuringly and reassured her, keeping his tone light and measured, ”Of course. Where are my manners?”

It was a silly way to say it, but it was not Mason’s goal to sound solemn and serious either. Seeing what he was attempting to do, the woman tried to smile, but it was clearly forced. Mason said nothing as they walked together.

The girl led the way, keeping silent, and Mason did not say anything either. He did not have to anyway. His presence was reassuring the girl, and that was enough. This could be considered his first heroic deed. It made him feel good, which one might argue made his action selfish, but wasn’t altruism inherently selfish?

Philosophical debates aside, after a couple of minutes of silent walking, the woman felt awkward enough to finally speak up, albeit with a broken voice from the crying, ”Thank you.”

Mason, nodding quietly, replied, ”Only did the right thing.”

The woman did not say anything about that, and instead introduced herself, ”I’m Alice.”

This time, Mason turned to look at her and said with a brilliant smile, ”Mason. Nice to meet you, although I would have preferred to meet you under different circumstances.”

Alice chuckled softly, this one truer than before, ”As would I.”

They remained silent for the rest of the way, and as they reached her building, Mason accompanied her all the way to her door. Once there, halfway through the door, Alice looked back and asked, ”Do you want to come in?”

Although she tried to sound confident, she was obviously hesitant. She almost sounded forced.

”As enchanting as you are, I wouldn’t be much better than those guys if I took advantage of the situation, would I?”

Alice stopped, before a sweet smile graced her lips. She leaned toward Mason, who simply watched, and lightly kissed his cheek. ”Thank you, my knight in shining armor.”

Mason smiled at her, and Alice closed the door. But as he started walking away, the door was opened again, and Alice gave him a piece of paper, whispering, ”Call me,” before disappearing back into her apartment.

Looking down at the piece of paper on which she had scribbled down her number, Mason whispered to himself, ”Still haven’t lost it, huh?”

Pocketing her number, Mason walked out of the building, and before long, he had reached his house. Not wanting to alert anyone inside, he stealthily climbed up his window.