1 The beginning of the supposed end

On a warm summer day, countless students flooded from the gates of their school, smiling widely as they sighed, finally being able to start their summer break. It was practically impossible to find someone who wasn't looking forward to the coming weeks, as evidenced by their laughs and cheers. Even the teachers couldn't help but reveal a slight skip in their walk.

Including a rather large man with a comb-over, wearing a shirt and tie. He carried his briefcase as he smiled, oblivious to the fact that his shirt was practically dripping with sweat. He stood before his car as he opened the door, only for a flood of liquid to wash over him.

The countless surrounding students stared at him, as he too looked at his ruined car and soon glanced at what seemed to be blue paint soaking his pants and shoes, flooding the ground and instantly drying on the scorching concrete.

The man was speechless, as were the teachers and students staring at the event.

However, the silence was broken as a boy on a bike zoomed past the man, laughing uncontrollably.

"Haha, nice look, Principal Edwards. You'd make a great Papa Smurf." The boy had dark skin, and dark messy hair that seemed to encompass aspects of every hairstyle imaginable. He wore a similar school uniform to the nearby students, only he wore his tie around his head like a headband and wrapped his sweater around his waist.

It wasn't long until the surrounding students, and even some teachers, burst out in laughter. The principal's face instantly changed from one of cluelessness to rage.

"Fury! You'll pay for this! You've just earned yourself a year's worth of detention!" The principal yelled furiously as he tried his best to run after the delinquent, his feet squelching after every step.

"See you next year, Principal! Tell your daughter I said hello! And try to fix that thing on your head, it looks horrible!" He yelled, further infuriating the man.

The countless students practically chanted his name as he drove by, soaking in his achievement with a large grin and wild laughter.

"That little rascal." Said one teacher.

"He sure is something. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'll miss that kid's mischievous pranks." Said another.

"I won't. That mishap with the toilet paper was enough for me to hate that kid. I had to walk around school with crap on my ass." The teachers laughed as they witnessed the boy ride away.

That boy was me.

I am the son of Nick Fury and my name is Isaac Fury.

Or at least, I'm supposed to be.

Ever since I could remember, my dad and I have been two disconnected individuals with almost nothing to do with each other.

It's not like I hated my father or anything. How could I, he was the only loved one I had in this world. No, it was quite the opposite. I only wished I could see more of him. But being the Director of Shield was no easy task. A task which stood in the way of my deserved father-son bonding time.

But as I grew older, I started to understand the responsibilities my father carried, therefore, not seeing him much bothered me much less than it would have a few years ago.

"Spider-Man's at it again. Dangling cars off a bridge? How many times do I have to say it, people? He's a menace!" Yelled a man from a large screen atop a building.

'Well, the cars were falling off the bridge and were about to crash into the water. What was he supposed to do?' I thought with a sigh and a defeated expression. That babbling buffoon never failed to annoy me.

"In other news, the Golden Six, also known as the Rising Vanguard are celebrating their second birthday at the White House. The superpowered teens…" I stared at the TV screen as I halted my bike.

The Rising Vanguard. Fame, wealth and power. They had it all. The supposed superheroes that will make the future brighter.

What a bunch of nonsense.

Those kinds of superheroes didn't deserve their title. Take Spidey for example, he did what he did without anyone knowing who he was.

Despite J Jonah Jamason's best attempts at bad-mouthing the web-slinging hero, many never changed their opinion of him, including me. To say I was a fan of Spider-Man would be an understatement.

My life's goal was to shake that man's webbed hand.

But despite living in New York my whole life, I had yet to even catch a glimpse of him.

It was Spider-Man who was able to make me see the bigger picture of my relationship with my father.

Like a hero, I had to sacrifice something dear to me so that the world could be a better place. And that's exactly what my father did. He made the world a better place…Despite his villainous exterior.

With all this being said, it still pained me to know I could have potentially become best buds with Spidey if I used the connection my father had. I didn't know much about the specifics of my father's work, but I knew he had a connection to all the big heroes.

But that was impossible. Very few people knew I was the great Nick Fury's son. Despite us sharing the same last name, no one would assume I, the town delinquent, was the son of the Director of Shield.

"Are you kidding me?" As I rode my bike, I was forced to a stop after the road leading to my home was blocked

'Just my luck. After I had planned out the perfect day of snacks, junk food and some hardcore League Of Legends, something like this happens.'

I wasn't going to let anything ruin this perfect day. How could I? I've been looking forward to this for the last few weeks.

I looked around the empty street, not wanting to go back and take the long route, and found a sneaky alleyway that acted like a heaven gate for my situation.

"Shortcut!" I yelled in a cheery voice. Not waiting for another second, I bolted into the alley, cutting corners and turning every so often. After a minute or two, I turned another corner, only to find it was a dead-end

"AGH!" I let my frustration out as the thought of biking out of the alley, and then circling the block to reach my home ate at me.

"You've already started yelling and I haven't even gotten to you yet." A cold and heavy came from behind me as I darted my head back, slightly startled by the voice, not expecting anyone to be so deep in a random alleyway. As I did, I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the peculiar sight I saw.

Before me stood a man wearing a white bodysuit with gloves and boots, and most noticeably a hood that covered the top of his head. However, Isaac was staring at the man's face which was covered by a skull mask with a toothy grin and red lines outlining its mouth and eyes. Additionally, his utility belt and the countless weapons on his back further exaggerated his look.

"Holy crap, nice costume," I said genuinely as my eyes practically dazzled with amazement. Given the circumstances, I was slightly sceptical of the man, but my childish love for fantasy outpowered my suspicion.

Besides, what were the chances this guy was a supervillain who was here to kill me? What nonsense.

"Thanks. It's nice to be appreciated." After saying this, the man dashed toward me at frightening speeds. Any normal person would be frozen, not expecting the sudden leap from the man, forced to succumb to whatever the individual had to offer.

But not me. After all, I was a Fury.

I yanked my bike up as the front wheel lifted into the air. The distance between us gave me time to process the situation even with the man's speed. In the next second, the suspicious man drove his foot into the front wheel of my bike.

Despite my blocking the sudden assault, I was still sent flying in the air with my bike crashing beside me, not expecting the superhuman-like strength that was presented to me.

I tumbled on the ground and finally came to a stop a few seconds later.

"Wow, I'm impressed. I wasn't expecting you to pull something like that." Said the villain after recovering from his sidekick.

In a matter of seconds, the situation I was in completely changed. I stared at my adversary with wide eyes, pressing my back against the dead end as the narrow walls of the alley that acted like gates to my prison, the smell of garbage and rat faeces that were scattered around the ground, the sound of the muffled city cars, the absence of the tranquil summer breeze and the beast that stood before me, blocking my only exit as my presence as a lamb for slaughter became more apparent, stood out to me.

"Please… I don't wanna die." I buried my head in my knees as my voice cracked.

"Never mind." The attacker said after a sigh, taking back his last statement.

"Listen, I'm not too happy about killing a kid either. But what can I say…" As he started to walk forward, he paused his words and darted his eyes at me.

I revealed a slight smile of relief as I held my hand out, revealing my stun gun.

"Gotcha," I said, staring at the two wires that protruded from my weapon and clung to the enemy.

I was the son of The Director of Shield. Of course I carried around some sort of protection. My father made sure of it. The few times he was home, he would teach me all sorts of stuff about self-defence and how to get out of a situation like this

I refuse to die in this rat-infested dump like a dog. I'll die in the lap of Black Widow after spending my whole life with her, just like god intended.

I set my stun gun to the maximum output and quickly pulled the trigger as I felt the strong current rapidly run through the wires, shocking my foe. I could even see the thousands of volts of electricity coursing through him. But, suspiciously, the man stood still, contrary to the uncontrollable spasm that I was expecting.

"I'll admit, you got me there. I wasn't expecting that." Said the villain as he pulled the wires out of his chest seamlessly, as if it were just a nuisance.

'Is he wearing armour? Oh, come on, at least make this somewhat easy for me.'

I dropped my weapon, realising it was ineffective and dashed toward my bike. I had already lost the element of surprise. Fighting a guy who was carrying a whole arsenal on his back was not an option. I had to test my luck in outrunning him on my bike.

'Run run run run run!' I yelled inwardly. I tended to repeat words like a broken record when I was nervous.

But before I could even reach it, the man appeared beside me, grabbing my shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going." Being closer to the man's skull mask as he spoke in a raspy voice sent a shiver down my spine, making my hair stand up.

I swung my hand at him as he ducked and stepped back.

"A knife? How many weapons do you have?" Said the man as he stared at my hand, dashing back at me.

In no way was I stronger or faster than this guy, therefore, I could only hope he was a brute who didn't know a single thing about fighting. However, that first sidekick and the footwork he used to dodge wasn't making me any less worried.

The man appeared before me as I stabbed my knife toward his face. He must have protection around his hands, because he grabbed the knife by the blade, stopping it from hitting his mask.

When he did, I held my breath as I let go, ducking and revealing a second knife in my other hand. This was my last one and I was planning to not waste the opportunity of faking my first attack.

I gritted my teeth at the gruesome act I was about to commit and thrust my knife with full force toward the enemy's crotch.

'Desperate times call for desperate measures.'

As the tip of my blade made contact with the padding of the man's suit, my blade came to an abrupt stop, not even piercing the man's armour.

"I've been an assassin for years. You think I don't know not to heavily protect my balls?" The villain said, dropping my knife and staring at me as I stood up.

'I'm screwed. I gotta do something. I'll try to fight and…'

Before I could finish my thought, the man dashed at me once again, throwing a punch.

"I see it coming. It's slow. I can dodge then counter…"

Before I could finish, a heavy punch landed on the side of my face. I stumbled as my head spun.

The man faked his punch and threw a hook with his other hand, identical to my trick.

As I stepped back a few feet, the realisation of my soon-to-be defeat became painfully clear. Perhaps the punch had knocked some sense into me, but it was clear this person had only now started to get serious.

I was struggling to stand, but I was denied a moment of respite. The man hit me with another punch and it landed square in my face.

My head was flung back as blood flooded from my nose. My legs felt like noodles and my eyes had rolled back into my skull.

Despite this, the man didn't stop. He yanked my tie, pulling me back and launching a devastating knee into my gut, then followed up with throwing me over his shoulder, into the wall.

There wasn't a fibre on my body that was screaming in pain as I crashed into the wall and fell onto my buttocks. Perhaps I lost a tooth, or maybe it was the broken nose that was hurting so much. I wouldn't know. I was barely conscious, my eyes second away from closing as I struggled to regain the air he knocked out of me. It was clear that I was outmatched. There wasn't a thing I could do, a trick I could pull that would get me out of this situation. I tried to stall, but I wouldn't make it in time.

"I was always told not to play with my food, but I couldn't help it. Tell me, kid, how do you know how to fight like that? Like a Shield Agent, I mean." Said the attacker, but as he walked, he soon came to a stop.

He stared at my hand, looking at the blinking red device I held as I leaned on the wall, blood dripping from my bruised face.

"How many crap do you have in your pockets?" He asked.

"This right here is sending out an SOS signal with our… location," I said in between breaths.

"I activated it after you kicked my bike, so any second now, countless law enforcement officers are going to come flooding into this alley." This was it. My last hope for survival. I could only hope it was enough to make him back off.

My father did teach me how to fight, but in case of an emergency I wasn't equipped to handle, he gave me this to call for help.

"Haha, you never fail to surprise me, kid. Who exactly are you? I was thinking it was some rich folks with a grudge against you that contracted me, but the more I interact with you, the more I realise you aren't an average teenager." He said, pulling out a gun from behind his back.

'Are you kidding me?! This guy had a gun this whole time and decided to beat me to a pulp instead?!'

"Kid, you have my respect. I'd love to chat with you more, but it seems I'm on the clock."

'Ha, well I tried. Just my luck to run into an assassin on my first day of summer break.' All I could do was smile as I relaxed my body, holding back my tears.

Screw that. I wasn't going to go out crying. Nope.

"Hey," I called out to the man.

"Hm? Last words? Go ahead." I grinned as I raised my finger at him.

"F*ck you, asshole."

"Well, I wasn't expecting that. See ya never, kid."

'Sorry Dad.'

[Congratulations!]

"What…?"

[You have gained the B-rank Evolution "Steel Skin"]