"For the past three months he was thought to be dead. Now, against all odds and everyone's wildest dreams, Desmond Pierce has shown himself to be alive and well. After landing on an airstrip in Nepal, he and a fellow captive of the Black Dragon were able to get safely back to America. When news reached the mainland the entire nation was in shock at what appeared to be a man back from the dead..."

     The T.V. continued to air the story while Desmond Pierce dressed himself, after his shower, in his hotel room. It'd been the first shower he'd taken in three months, or at least the first time he'd cleaned himself in one.

     Desmond turned off the T.V. before he left the hotel room and headed down to the lobby. Life back in civilization made Desmond's head spin, and not just because he had a House M.D. marathon the night he returned, but because he was glad to be back within the comforts of his old world again. Still, though, he was haunted, continuing to see traces of the man he used to be.

     As soon as they'd gotten back, Olivia had been whisked away by special agents probably working for C.I.N.A. Olivia had warned that it might happen and that she was going to need to be debriefed on everything that had happened to her since her team's disappearance. As soon as she left, Desmond felt an emotional hole open up within him. It felt like a piece of him had been taken away at her departure.

     Upon arrival, Desmond, unlike  Olivia, was greeted by a crowd of highly curious people who were perplexed at the idea of him still being alive (and also his new physical shape). One commented that he looked like something out of a comic book and another jousted a comment at him about being on steroids. Afterwords, Desmond had flagged away the paparazzi and had headed for the nearest hotel room so he could take a hot shower.

     Through the chaos, Desmond insisted on seeing Platinum Tower again. But from what he'd heard, though, there wasn't much to look forward to.

     Desmond stepped into his waiting limousine, straightening his tie. He'd packed up his stealth gear and hidden it away, instead replacing it with a snazzy suit in order to please the masses. Desmond watched, through tinted windows, the familiar city of Manhattan roll by. It was like witnessing an alien world compared to the constantly stunning scenery of mountains for three months. The towering skyscrapers and buildings reminded Desmond of the ruined temple...and also Sensei. He looked down at his hands, remembering all the lives he had taken in order to return. They would not be in vein; he would bring Sensei to justice.

     After a few minutes the vehicle stopped out in front of Platinum Tower and Desmond got out. He thanked the driver, something they looked rather surprised at, and gave his bodyguard the rest of the day off.

     "What?" the man asked.

     "Just go and have a nice day," Desmond said, getting out and tipping his limo driver.

     The limo pulled away and Desmond gaped at what had once been the pinnacle of architecture in the entire city. Explosions issued by the Black Dragon had creating monstrous holes in the structure, and most of the glass was missing. The building was charred black in some areas due to the damage and constant gusts of wind made dust curl off of its edges. Overall, the building was a ghost of what it had once been. As Desmond walked toward the metal fence that had been built around the structure, in an attempt to keep out looters, he could not help but notice several gang spray-painting jobs that had been done to the building's walls.

     "Hey!" a woman called while walking past Desmond.

     Desmond turned but received a face-full of spit from the passerby.

     "Scumbag!" the woman cackled. "Where are your bodyguards? Where's your money?"

     Desmond brushed the spittle from his face and sighed, it was going to take a while for people to view him differently. He looked away from the woman and unlocked the fence gate with a key he had been given in order to have access. Hesitantly, he stepped inside.

     It was like walking through his past life, and he saw familiar spots that were piles of rubble. He saw the pillar that he had leaned against as the man begged him for money, now nothing more than a pile of cracked rocks. Desmond also walked up the same steps that, several months prior, he had stumbled up during a hangover. He walked into the lobby and sighed upon observing that everything had been gutted. There was nothing, not even a picture left on the wall.

     Desmond took the stairs because the building had been cut from the power grid and there were no more elevators. It took a long time of climbing, but he eventually reached what had once been his penthouse suite. All his luxury items were gone, but luckily he still had the stunning view of Manhattan through the cracked windows. The floor was damp and the walls were being overgrown with what seemed like mold to Desmond; he was scared to look any closer. It seemed as if years had gone by since he had last inhabited the building when in reality it had only been a few, short months.

     Desmond walked to a mound of rubble and bent down, seeing a cracked picture frame sticking out from underneath a rock. Perhaps it had been missed when everyone either stole, sold, or auctioned off his furniture. It was a picture of him and his parents, taken just a few short weeks before their passing. Desmond's eyes watered while he took the picture out of its frame and tucked it into his pocket. He stood up and paced around the room before heading back outside. As he walked down the steps he called for another limousine, and also the number of a demolition team.

     "That's right," Desmond said, waiting for his limousine to pull up. "Just take everything down. I don't want to see a scrap of Platinum Tower left. Why? Let's just say that I'm sort of turning to a new chapter in my life. Maybe in its place we can build a park or something, I don't know."

     The limousine pulled up and the driver asked where he wanted to go next. Desmond gave him the address to Rose, his old girlfriend. He wanted to tell her that he was alright, but more importantly that he was still alive. 

     They drove across town to her house and Desmond ordered the driver to park a decent ways from her residence. Cautiously, and slightly hesitantly, he opened up the door and stepped out. In his mind he wondered if she'd seen the television press coverage of his arrival yet. 

     Desmond could see the house down the street and continued toward it. Suddenly, the front door to Rose's house opened and she stepped out. Shocked by the sudden appearance, Desmond abruptly stopped in his tracks. He cleared his head, straightened himself, and was about to push forward. 

     But there was someone else.

     A man followed Rose out of the house and hugged her from behind. She smiled, turned, and kissed her new lover. There was no way she would've known that Desmond was standing there, down the street, watching their every move. It was more than awkward, it was eerie to see Rose with another man.

     A thousand different emotions washed through Desmond. At first there was confusion, then there was anger, but at the end there was understanding. It was then that he truly realized how long he was gone, and how the world...moved on. 

     Rose moved on, and she was happy.

     Desmond made a decision that he'd never made before: to put someone else's happiness over his own. He'd never seen Rose smile the way she did with her new lover, and Desmond decided to leave it be. After standing on the sidewalk for a couple more seconds he discreetly turned back to his limousine. 

     "How was she?" the driver asked.

     "She's fine," Desmond responded. "She's actually pretty fine."

     "So where to next?" the driver asked.

     "Take me to the Pierce Memorial," he ordered, averting his gaze from Rose.

     The driver seemed to hesitate, "Are you sure?"

     Desmond nodded his head, "I'm sure."

**

The Pierce Memorial...

     They drove back into the city and came to the lot that had a memorial dedicated to the day that Pierce Enterprises HQ was bombed. However, as Desmond got out, he was horrified to see the place in ruins. Gang signs and graffiti had been sprayed over the bronze statue of his father, and several of the surrounding benches had been overturned. There was a fountain in the middle of the memorial but there was no water in it.

     Desmond walked around the tattered landscape, his feet crunching on bits of trash that had been littered across the memorial. He felt a mix of emotions: angst, disgust, and even shame. The memorial was a testament to his family, yet it had been treated like trash. Desmond's brow creased, feeling a lump grow in his throat, and realized that it was more than likely his fault.

     "What happened?" Desmond asked his driver.

     "After you disappeared," the driver explained, "there was an outcry against Pierce Enterprises. When Platinum Tower was bombed it injured a lot of civilians and they blamed it on the company. So, they destroyed the memorial."

     "Nobody did anything about it?" Desmond asked.

     The driver shrugged, "Nobody cared."

     Desmond got back into the car and ordered that he be driven to the pier. The world he had thought he knew was changed, damaged, and twisted in ways he could never imagine. Perhaps the old Desmond Pierce was unable to notice such anomalies, but the new one gaped at the harshness of reality.

**

Standing on the Waterfront...

     Desmond Pierce stood facing the ocean, his heart heavy with sorrow. Had he really been killed in the bombing, like everyone had thought, he would've been remembered as a tyrant. People would have hated him forever and that was something that Desmond had never even stopped to think about before. His legacy, but more importantly his father's legacy, would forever be tarnished by his actions.

     He needed redemption.

     Desmond closed his eyes and let his mind drift, the salty breeze wafting against his face. He thought back to the Black Dragon facility and the plans for a bomb. Standing there, he reflected upon his first hours after arriving back in America. He'd wasted no time in informing the authorities on everything he knew about the Black Dragon and its plans for New York. But they'd dismissed him, telling Desmond instead that they'd 'look into it'.

     He knew they never would. But how could he blame them? How could he be trusted after his ordeal? Desmond's thoughts were interrupted by the honking of his limousine.

     "Mr. Pierce, I can't stay here all day," the driver said.

     Desmond turned away from the ocean and got back into the vehicle. He ordered to be driven back to his hotel room; he needed to sleep in a bed.

**

     Later that night, when everyone was least expecting it, the television airwaves suddenly received an odd signal. It was about six o'clock in the evening when suddenly, everything went offline. Millions of people across the nation could only watch as a shadowy figure took his place on their television screen. He was a figure with combed-back black hair and a scar running down the length of his face.

     "My fellow Americans," the figure taunted in his rippling, menacing voice.

     Panic erupted through the nation, people scrambling to find the location of the signal. The President was given a television so he could watch the broadcast in the Oval Office. The nation held its breath as the figure began to speak further in his hypnotic, deep voice.

     "To some," the Shadow said, through the screens, "death is the definition of fear...it is what haunts their nightmares. To others," he continued, "it is a gift. It is a release from the pain, from the suffering, and from their burden on this world," he paused. "I would like to give America such a gift."

     The Shadow took a moment to terrifyingly stare into the television, striking fear into the hearts of all those who watched.

     The Shadow cleared his throat, continuing:

     "I understand that you have received a man back from the dead. Do not be comforted by his return from the Black Dragon, because instead he provides a target for my disciples...and they are coming. America, you will receive my gift and your burden on this world will be released. Prepare your families, your wives, and even...your children," he leaned forward towards the camera, "because I am coming. The era of terror is only beginning."

     He sat back from the camera and hissed:

     "Fear me, because I....am the Shadow," his eyes bore through the television, searching through every screen for Desmond Pierce.

     Then the transmission cut out and the country erupted into anarchy.

     Desmond Pierce sat in his hotel room, having watched the footage live.

     Just as Sensei had warned, he had fear.

**

Hours Later...

     News networks across the country blared:

     "The country is on the brink of chaos because of the recent Black Dragon footage that was released just last night."

     "Citizens of New York bombard Desmond Pierce because he was specifically called out as a target by the Shadow."

     "The question is, what will Desmond Pierce do as a result of being called a 'target' by the Shadow?"

     "Citizens of New York," Desmond said, giving a live conference for Pierce Enterprises. "Do not fear the allegations made by the terrorist known as the Shadow. You are not in danger, and I can assure you that Pierce Enterprises and the American government are doing everything they possibly can to keep this city safe."

     "How safe?" a reporter asked.

     Desmond looked at him, "You have nothing to fear."

     "How do you respond to allegations concerning your inability to run Pierce Enterprises?" another reporter asked.

     "I can assure America, and the world, that my head has never been clearer," Desmond explained. "I am fit for my position, as CEO of Pierce Enterprises."

     "How do you respond to rumors that Black Dragon operatives are working inside the city?" a third reporter asked.

     "As you have stated, those are just rumors," Desmond consoled, "and they have no concrete evidence whatsoever. If there is a threat inside the city I will do everything within my power to keep everyone safe."

     Desmond did as best he could to answer the other questions from the reporters. Eventually, he signaled to his bodyguards and he was led away from his podium and back to a car. Outside, he dodged swears and ridicule from the hundreds of people outside of the conference center.

     "Why don't you solve your problems with a drink?" one person mocked.

     "Go back to your tower!" another screamed.

     "How do you live with yourself?" a man roared. "You've cheated, you've lied, and now you're putting us all in danger?"

     Once inside, he rubbed his temples with stress; he couldn't let the ridicule get to him.

     "Where to, Mr. Pierce?" the driver asked.

     "Take me back to the hotel," Desmond answered.

     He was driven back to his hotel and he went to his packed belongings. After ruffling around in his suitcase Desmond pulled out the old hood from the fallen Black Dragon soldier. He knew it was time to put it on and take the action the authorities were hesitant on; to fulfill his promise of keeping people safe from the Shadow. It was more than just a hood to him now, it was a symbol of determination to bring justice to the Black Dragon.

      Desmond also opened up the box containing his samurai swords.

     Once night fell, he was going to find out what was really happening in his city.

**

The Black Dragon

     Miles away, the Shadow leaned back in a chair with his hands folded. As long as everything went according to plan Pierce would play right into his hands.