Marvelous Twist #71

Daredevil took a deep breath, his emotions gradually settling. "You might not think of yourself as a hero, but others might not share your view..." His voice, though muffled by the mask, conveyed his concern. 

"After what you've done during the battle against the machines, it's only natural for many to view you as a hero..." He gestured decisively with his hand. "You need to be a role model for the many young men who might look up to you!" He emphasized.

Evan couldn't help but chuckle. "You make it sound as if I'd killed a saint... besides, is killing someone any worse than mutilating their face with a blunt rock?" Evan continued as he kneeled next to the dead mercenary and removed his mask, revealing the bullseye-shaped scar on his forehead. 

Daredevil couldn't even muster up a reply, his expression twisting under the mask into an amalgamation of guilt, shock, and fear.

Evan stood up, shaking his head. "Don't get me wrong... I admire folks like you," he calmly stated, locking eyes with Daredevil. "It takes strength to see the good in people and give them a second chance—especially ones like this one..." He cast a brief glance at Bullseye's corpse. 

"Unfortunately, I don't have that strength. I only see a tormented monster that's only capable of causing harm," Evan added, shaking his head once more. "Bullseye is better off dead." He concluded. 

Daredevil shook his head, his frustration evident. "That is not up to you to decide. We are not in a jungle!" he said, scowling at Evan. "There are rules and systems that decide such things!" 

Evan smiled wryly. "Oh? Do you think the judicial system would disagree with my actions?" He asked, a chuckle escaping his lips. "I'd rather not waste my time, but we can call the police if you want—we'll tell them what happened and see how they'd react to Bullseye's death..." He added, crossing his arms.

Daredevil clenched his jaw in silence. With the recent incident involving the Sentinels and Evan's role in their destruction, it was unlikely for anyone to blame Evan for Bullseye's death, especially if Evan claimed he was defending himself. 

There might even be public support, maybe even riots, if a court of law convicted Evan of murder at this point. Daredevil knew that Bullseye's absence would make Hell's Kitchen safer, but he couldn't simply ignore the unlawful taking of a life. A part of him felt responsible for everyone in his neighborhood, even those like Bullseye. Still, he couldn't find any other recourse.

"It seems arguing with you is pointless..." Daredevil said with a resigned sigh. "I'll consider what happened today an unfortunate accident, but if you ever do something like this in Hell's Kitchen again..." He trailed off.

"I'll hunt you down to the ends of the earth and bring you to justice," Daredevil concluded, turning around and walking away.

"I'll keep that in mind..." Evan said as he watched Daredevil depart. "The man without fear... how fitting," he muttered, shaking his head in amusement and admiration. Daredevil's dedication to justice-- even in the face of someone more powerful than him left a mark on Evan. 

Shifting his attention to Bullseye, Evan opened his mouth, unleashing liquid flames that engulfed the dead mercenary's lifeless form. The intense heat quickly turned Bullseye into a pile of ashes, leaving only the sword behind. 

Evan couldn't help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at the sight of the weapon, untouched by the inferno he had just conjured. He knelt on the ground and didn't bother to wait for the residual flames to dissipate before reaching for the sword.

As his fingers closed around the hilt, a sudden surge of energy coursed through his nervous system, infusing him with newfound knowledge. It was as if the sword itself contained millenias of martial wisdom. 

Evan, who had spent years perfecting his combat skills, became acutely aware of every imperfection in his technique. Holding this weapon had elevated his combat proficiency to a level he hadn't known existed, revealing nuances and subtleties he had never imagined.

"What a dangerous little trinket..." Evan muttered to himself, his fingers releasing their grip on the sword's hilt. As he stood up, he couldn't help but ponder the immense threat that Bullseye had posed with this weapon. 

The mercenary, a mere human, had been transformed into a lethal force to be reckoned with, and even someone as powerful as Evan had to admit the danger he posed.

Evan's mind raced with the possibilities. He envisioned scenarios where individuals like the Juggernaut or Emil Blonsky, who possessed godlike levels of physical might, got their hands on such a weapon. 

It was a chilling thought. Evan couldn't fathom a strategy to defeat opponents of that caliber wielding a weapon like this. The consequences of such a situation were nightmarish, and he shuddered at the idea.

Resolving to keep the sword out of the wrong hands, Evan contemplated what to do with it. It was a double-edged dilemma. Keeping it might protect it from misuse, but relying on borrowed strength would be foolish, and it also meant that it could fall into the wrong hands eventually. 

On the other hand, destroying it might prevent catastrophe. It was the best decision, but Evan honestly didn't know how. The sword had already withstood his Vibranium Energy knife and Extremis flames, leaving Evan no other means to destroy it. 

Evan sighed, his thoughts conflicted as he gazed at the enigmatic sword. "I'll need to take this thing to a specialist... I really hate magic," he muttered in a resigned tone, reluctantly picking up the weapon. "Then again, I do need a ride. I shouldn't keep the ladies waiting," he added, a sly smile forming on his face as he called upon the sword's mystical power.

The atmosphere around Evan shifted as he harnessed the sword's magic, summoning the majestic Valkyrior Steed. Its arrival was swift, the winged horse materializing before him in a dazzling display of golden light and ethereal energy.

"You only live once, I suppose..." 

...

Somewhere in New York, within an empty parking lot, Domino leaned casually against Evan's Porsche, her phone held to her ear. A confident smile graced her lips as she concluded her call. "I'll have the documents delivered to you as soon as possible. Alright. It's a pleasure working with you, Mr. Jameson..." With a subtle nod, she ended the call and stowed her phone away.

Standing beside her, Storm wore a puzzled frown. "I don't understand. Why would you take Kelly's dirty laundry to John Jonah James of all people?" She voiced her confusion. "That man hates everything remotely related to vigilantism, not to mention mutants..." Her concern was evident in her furrowed brow.

Domino met Storm's gaze with a knowing glint in her eye. "It's Evan's idea. Jameson might be an insufferable fool at times, but he tells the truth—albeit from his distorted perspective," she explained, nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders. 

"Besides, he's running a business at the end of the day. He can't say no to such big news, and once he puts Kelly on blast, there will be no turning back..." A devious smirk played on her lips. "Not for him or Kelly," she concluded, relishing the thought of the impending chaos.

Storm's initial skepticism quickly faded, replaced by an approving smile. She recognized the cunning strategy at play. "And once he exposes Kelly, Jameson won't be able to spout any more nonsense about mutants. He'd risk contradicting himself and losing credibility..." Her voice held a note of satisfaction as she assessed the situation. "Well played." 

Domino smiled. "That's just how Evan is. Leave it to him to hit an entire fleet of fighting jets with one stone..." Her chuckle resonated with amusement. 

However, her smile quickly faded, replaced by a confused expression. "And while we're on the subject of flying objects..." Domino's tone shifted as she raised her finger and pointed at a winged white steed soaring through the sky. "What the hell is that thing?!"