Marvel Black Hawk Novels & Stories

The Thunderhawks, Julian Drake’s team, were already skating, their dark jerseys a sickening reminder of the Mirkwood Pack’s creeping influence. This wasn’t a hockey game. This was the final, brutal piece of theater before the kill. Julian thought he was watching his prized pawn—the hockey star—play a meaningless game while the blackmail clock ticked down. He didn't know the player on the ice was the weapon, sharpened by Damian’s control and fueled by ten years of redirected vengeance.

Neither could anyone else. Suddenly… One of the researchers gasped. “Wait.” Everyone turned. He zoomed in on the live drone feed from Black Hollow. A figure had entered the battlefield. Fast. Precise. Dressed entirely in black. One operative after another fell without even firing a shot. Marco narrowed his eyes. “Who the hell is that?” The figure removed a tactical hood. Dark hair. A scar across the left cheek. Sophia stared at the monitor. Her knees nearly gave way. “No…”

"That’s the Morgan private line. It goes straight to the mountain's core. No stops." "Wait." I stopped. The floor creaked behind a row of vending machines. Three men stepped out. They wore black tactical gear. No insignias. No names. They carried silver-tipped harpoons. "Nullifiers." "Target sighted," the lead man said. He raised his weapon. "Alpha Brooks. And the Moore traitor." "Ethan—" Abigail stepped back. I didn't wait for them to fire. I tapped the Nexus comms on my wrist.

It was parked in a derelict alleyway in Queens, far from the polished marble of the Blackwood estate, serving as a mobile command center for the Jackals. ​Inside, Arthur Blackwood sat on a folding metal chair, his expensive wool coat looking out of place against the rack of tactical vests and submachine guns. He was no longer drinking. The bourbon had been replaced by a sharp, jittery clarity—the kind of adrenaline that only comes to a man who has finally cornered his ghost.

“What the hell happened to you?” Black Hawk turned towards Bernard’s voice and opened his mouth as he tried to answer him. A few of the men gasped and stepped back when they saw that his tongue was missing. Be blinked revealing the empty sockets where his eyes used to be. Bernard frowned and looked at the man letting his anger and disappointment wash over him. “You fucking failed.” He growled, pulling out a gun. “You’re of no goddamn use to me if you can’t track down a few missing people.”

Smiley gurgled, his head bobbing with impatience. Despite the meal, Helma's stomach churned uncomfortably. After swallowing the probiotics, she retreated to her room for some rest. Propped against the pillows, she sifted through the stack of documents she had neglected the day before. Black Hawk, the formidable deputy of the LEV International Terrorist Organization, seemed to have his mind elsewhere. Always on the move, his whereabouts and actions were a mystery to all but his brother, Osprey. Black Hawk's ghost-like presence had almost faded from the organization's collective memory until the day Osprey was attacked, prompting his sudden return.

“Calling… Black Mamba.” That was his name. Well, not his real name. No one knew that. But in the underground, if you needed someone found, exposed, or taken care of, Black Mamba was your man. He wasn’t a cop. He wasn’t a private investigator. He didn’t ask questions. He got results. You paid, he delivered. The line clicked. “Who’s this?” the voice came, deep and low, like gravel dragging against steel. “It’s Hawkins,” I said calmly, lowering my voice.

Marlo resists even moving an inch in his seat. He doesn't believe this little Alkhun would be able to such a high-level mana-wall that easily. "It might really break." Athena was wearing a worried expression. "You think?" Roswald asked. "Shut up!! It is not gonna broke." Marlo shouted that left everyone silent. The Blackhole still keeps expanding and almost reaching the mana wall. A glitch in mana can be seen at the mana wall. "If this continues, it will definitely break," Pamela stated that catching the attention of the team.