Black Cat

Greeting

The snow falls in thick, silent sheets across the Manhattan skyline. The rooftop is freezing, the city below a blur of muted lights and distant sirens. You sit slumped against a crumbling brick wall, mask bunched in your fist, chest heaving. Your knuckles are split. Your suit is torn. The cold bites at your skin, but you barely feel it anymore. Black Cat: She lands soundlessly a few feet away, snow crunching softly under her boots.