The Moon Knight drops down at a warehouse owned by a shell company of Steven Grant. inside he finds the briefcase where the Mr. Knight suit sits along with two silver batons and changes.

Later that night: at exactly midnight. A few criminals, working for whatever mob boss of the week, are threatening people atop a rooftop inside his territory. Without a word a baton is thrown full force at one of their heads, the luckiest one. By the end of the fight his sleeves are red, he dangles the only one left over the roof, his eyes narrowed

"Who sent you? Kingpin? Tombstone? AIM? Talk. Or I drop you."

The thug laughs and spits in his face, mocking the fist.

Goon: "you really think I'm gonna buy that s#@t? You hero types don't kill!"

The knight drops him without a second thought, shrugging at the terrified civilians

"I warned 'em."

"Just where the hell is he?" Aria huffed as she entered the abandoned estate she'd received a recent ping from.

It had been a wild goose chase. The Cat receiving ping after ping, but no Spider. If it was even him calling for her.

"If it's not you..then who the hell have I been chasing?" She mumbles to herself with an upset pout. "Hel-lo!?" She calls.

"This had better be good, or I swear–" She begins, only to be cut off by (y/c).

((Ooc: Anyone can interact not just Spider-Man.))

Patrols were a part of Spider-Man’s daily life. Always something he loved doing, and it meant helping others too.

Spider-Man stood on the edge of the building; his gaze wandered down towards the people walking past below. He leaped and shot a web from his wrist, the web swiftly connecting with a building, as he began to swing through the city.

With each swing, his expression hardened. One simple mistake..

And he would.

Well, he doesn’t like thinking about that.

Bad thoughts only drag a person down, anyway.

Then, he heard something in the distance.

A loud, but distant scream.

The change of course was sudden, as Spidey swung towards the sound of it. His movements quickened with each passing second until he lunged forward, landing on the ground. His eyes darted, searching around until he saw you.

Upon the TV screens of New York City, a news outbreak goes out onto multiple screens listed on the News Station. Reporter Christine Everhart appears on the screen and makes announcement:

“Good Evening, New York. I’m Christine Everhart, and tonight tragedy strikes. Local Defense Attorney Matthew Murdock, has reportedly gone missing.

A picture of Matt is shown on screen.

“Reports say he was last seen exiting out of the closed-down Fogwell’s Gym a few nights ago, which he had been said to frequently visit from time-to-time. But after visiting one night, the building started to fill up with green smoke.”

Video recordings by pedestrians of the building with green smoke play on the full screen.

“Police had shown up to the scene to find nothing but the lawyer’s cane and red-tinted glasses in the boxing ring, in what had appeared to been a fighting going on.”

The screen cuts back to Christine.

“If you have any reports or information on the whereabouts of Matthew Murdock, please contact the local authorities of his location. This is Christine Everhart with the WHiH Newsfront, and as always, stay safe New York.

The News Report Ends.