2 Years Previously...

     "Daddy?" a small girl asked. "Why can't I see the stars?"

     Hope was standing out on their apartment balcony, amidst all the sounds of a bustling New York. She always was fascinated with the concept of the stars, but due to living in the heart of the city Hope was never quite able to see them. Ben walked out and picked up his child.

     "Well, it's because of the smog," Ben explained.

     "Smog?" Hope asked. "What's smog?"

     "It's kind of like a cloud," Ben answered. "It comes from all of the cars and factories. The smog obscures the stars, but they're always there."

     "Even though I can't see them?" Hope asked.

     Ben smiled, "Yes, even though you can't see them. Just because you can't see them, it doesn't mean that they aren't there."

     He stood with his daughter, whom he loved more than life itself.

     "What are you two doing?" a woman asked, strolling out of the apartment to stand with them.

     "I was just explaining the concept of smog to our toddler," Ben replied, smiling.

     Diana gave him an odd look, "Alright...how about we talk about something else?"

     "A star!" Hope suddenly explained.

     Ben squinted his eyes, "Uh, no I think that's actually a heli--"

     "Wow!" Diana cut in. "Good eye Hope! That's a beautiful star."

     Ben stopped and smiled. He stood with his family in perfect serenity. They were closer than close could be.

     They were one.

Present Day...

     Ben had taken the files with him when he stormed out of Frederick's house. He stood by the ocean, the salty sea air whipping him in the face. In his hand he held the files, and Ben looked down on them with tears in his eyes.

     The day was beautiful and clear. Puffy white clouds dotted the sky, and boats could be seen out on the horizon as Ben tore the documents in half. Then, he dumped the contents into the ocean.

     They had lied to him.

     Ben kicked himself for not listening to his gut, which had clearly given him the instinct not to listen to them. Under the false knowledge that his family was still alive, Ben had unwillingly played into the palm of the Black Dragon's hands. Now, a vigilante assassin was running around with their artifact and working for an unknown client. Ben clenched his hands in anger, letting the knuckles turn white. He could feel the blood rushing through his ears as a single word echoed through his mind:

     Revenge.

     It was all he could think of, and the only way he knew he could get revenge was by taking the very thing the Black Dragon needed. As if coming full circle, he would take from the terrorist organization in the same manner as they had taken from him. 

     He would steal the Stone of Ascension and destroy it. 

     The biggest problem was the Silver Assassin, because his whereabouts were unknown. He was going to need to be tracked and confronted.

     Ben turned away from the water, and his past, as he looked back into the city. He would find a way to kill the Silver Assassin.

     But first, he needed materials.

**

A Couple Hours Later...

     He cracked through the door with the sheer strength of his body. Ben burst into a closed weapons store late that night. As the alarms went off, he quickly snagged guns, ammunition, and other such equipment. He ran out into a stolen car and loaded the vehicle. Time was of the essence, because the authorities would be there within minutes.

     Ben gunned the engine and roared off into the night. He had weapons, but he also needed computer equipment. All it took was breaking into a local Wal-Mart, and the equipment was in his grasp. Laptops, monitors, and power cords were all acquired for his mission.

     He had a plan. It was going to take some material getting, but that just so happened to be Ben's speciality. After materials were acquired, he would set up a base of operations where he would track the Silver Assassin. His base of operations would also serve as the place where he ate, slept, and trained to get his body back into shape.

     The time for running was over, and Ben knew what he had to do.

     An abandoned factory was scouted to be a place where he could remain undisturbed. He hacked into the power grid, allowing the transference of electricity to all of his equipment. Ben set all the computers up, laid the weapons out, and was able to cover his tracks before the night was through.

**

     Ben began to look for patterns. He pulled up every attack made by the Silver Assassin and tried to make a detailed assumption of where he resided. The first attack made with the same chemical weapons occurred six years previously. The news article that detailed the even read:

     "The city of Los Angeles is recovering from a wide-spread attack that left nearly 100 casualties. Identities of the victims have not been disclosed, but are believed to mainly be members of local gangs..."

     Another article detailed an attack that happened just a few months after:

     "Chicago is swamped by doctors, EMT's, and police officers looking into what appears to be an attack similar to the one made in Los Angeles three months ago. Photos of the crime scene are leaking, and the internet is in shock at what they depict. Victims of the attack seem to be coated in some silvery substance..."

     Six months later, there was another attack in New York City:

     "Dozens of drug cartel members were reportedly killed last night. Autopsies of their deaths reveal death by asphyxiation. Are these the makings of a biological terrorist?"

     Months after, there were several more smaller attacks in the area around New York:

     "Who is this silver assassin? Citizens of the New York Metropolitan area are told to remain in their homes after another attack by the silver chemical..."

     Ben rubbed his eyes, but he saw no pattern. Everything was reportedly random, with no attack really sharing any relation to each other. The only thing that carried over from each incident was the silver chemical, which many researchers had tried to analyze.

     A paper published three years prior had described the futile attempts made by an MIT student to reverse-engineer the chemical:

     "The substance is unlike anything I've ever researched in my academic years. It appears to be mostly gas, but manifests itself into a solid. Then, as soon as it's in that state, it manifests itself into a liquid which quickly spreads into a solid. I've stopped all trials for fear of my own safety..."

     Ben would often take breaks and tend to the weapons. They were mostly handguns, nothing special, but they at least gave him a slight feeling of security. When he wasn't tending to the weapons, Ben would exercise to keep his body in shape. Not all of his wounds had healed from his previous encounters with the Silver Assassin, however, so he had to be ginger in his movements. As the days passed, though, Ben could feel his body slowly returning to what it had once been.

     He would continue to read articles and watch news clips late into the night. Never before had he been so interested in the dealings of the silver terrorist. Ben had never really cared, and he was shocked at the number of casualties that the Silver Assassin had acquired.

     Days passed, and Ben would only leave the safety of the factory when he had to eat. The building looked like a shell of something it had once been. The large structures were mostly rusted with years of neglect, and the windows were like giant, black voids. It looked like it had been abandoned for centuries, when it had only been about ten years or so. Nobody came near it, probably out of superstition. That made it the perfect hiding place for Ben.

     One night though, all of that changed.

**

     A nasty storm hit San Diego. The winds howled and the rain pounded against the exterior walls of the factory. Ben couldn't sleep because of all the noise, so he was up reading articles about the Silver Assassin on the internet. It had been about a week since he had set up shop there, and the place was actually beginning to feel like a home for Ben.

     Then, he heard the breathing.

     Ben immediately scrambled for a gun, he always kept one by his side, and stood up. The darkness of the surrounding factory pressed in on him, but he knew that he was not alone.

     "You're here," Ben called out, "aren't you?"

     There was no response, but footsteps echoed through the cavernous rooms of the factory. Ben turned as, faintly, he saw the glint of the two ominous eyes. His light was just enough to distinguish his presence from the surrounding blackness.

     "How did you find me?" Ben calmly asked.

     All that time, he had assumed that he would have to find the assassin himself. It had never dawned on Ben that the Silver Assassin would find him.

     "You know, they're not all gone," Ben continued, stepping towards the Silver Assassin. "The bruises, I mean...from our last encounter."

     "Your wounds were acquired yourself," the muffled voice accused. "Had you had compliance, I would've spared you any further injury."

     "You were going to steal the Stone of Ascension," Ben scoffed. "It was the only way the Black Dragon promised me I'd be able to see my family again, and you stole it."

     "A family..." the Silver Assassin sighed.

     Ben raised his eyebrows, "You didn't know? Did you not pick up that bit of information on a wire tap? It doesn't matter though, because I found out that it was all lies."

     "Lies," the Silver Assassin repeated. "Lies are a shield from the truth; a barrier against the pain."

     "They're long dead," Ben spat. "They died for something called 'Bellator'. Do you know what that is?"

     The Silver Assassin took in a breath, a mess of muffled huffs, "I'm not affiliated with the Black Dragon. Their activities are of no matter to me."

     "So why did you take the stone then?" Ben asked. "If not for the Black Dragon, then for someone else? A client?"

     The Silver Assassin held up his hand, "I did not come here to discuss my personal dealings."

     "Then why did you come here?" Ben asked, his gun raised and aimed. "I can only imagine one reason."

     The Silver Assassin remained silent, simply staring at Ben through the darkness. Ben tightened his grip on his weapon as sweat began to bead on his forehead. His breathing became shallow, and he quickly blinked his eyes.

     "Why do you wear the mask?" he asked.

     The Silver Assassin chuckled, which sounded eerie echoing through the mask, "Why do you ask such a question?"

     "Because I feel that I deserve an answer," Ben retaliated, tightening his grip with his fingers inching towards the trigger. "Why do you wear the mask?"

     "I wear it to protect me," the Silver Assassin responded.

     "From what?" Ben asked.

     The Silver Assassin was silent.

     Anger billowed up inside of Ben. It was his chance; his opportunity. He lunged himself at the thief who stole the Stone of Ascension, but with a simple sidestep Ben missed. He flew to the floor, and quickly sprawled to his feet.

     "You are aggressive," the Silver Assassin mused. "You have no control of your fear."

     Ben whirled around and shot at his adversary. The Silver Assassin reached for his gun and sent a silver spray in the direction of the bullets. They froze in midair, suddenly becoming tainted in silver, and then dropped to the ground.

     Ben sprinted at the Silver Assassin and threw a punch. It smashed into a hard vest, and the pain made its way up his wrist. The Silver Assassin grabbed Ben's arm and used it to fling him against a wall. He slid to the ground coughing.

     "Why are you toying with me?" Ben coughed, his bruises blistering in agony. "If you came here to end it, just do it..."

     The Silver Assassin stood over him, with the power to kill. He stood for a few moments, but then he turned into the darkness.

     "What?" Ben yelled. "Is that it? You just come here, beat me up, and leave? There has to be more to it than that!!"

     The Silver Assassin was unresponsive, and his breathing was getting fainter.

     "Come back you coward!" Ben screamed, throwing himself to his feet and chasing the man.

     He ran through the darkness, his blood pounding in his ears.

     "Murderer!" Ben shouted. "Thief! Coward!"

     Out of nowhere, something smacked Ben in the chest and sent him flying towards the ground. It knocked the wind out of him first, but the pain was there soon enough. The shadow of something drifted over Ben, and he felt the hot, stale breath of the Silver Assassin on his face.

     "You have no idea who I am, or what you're up against," the Silver Assassin whispered. "You are tiny compared to the level things are truly at."

     "At least I'm not like you," Ben whispered back.

     The Silver Assassin paused, "Not like me? Benedict Cain you are me. You have no family, your compassion for human life is none, and you kill."

     Ben swallowed, "I don't hide behind a mask."

     "The mask is a barrier against the pain," the Silver Assassin remarked. "It is a lie."

     Ben closed his eyes against the blackness, "Why did you come?"

     The presence left.

     "Why?" Ben screamed, into the darkness. "Why don't you kill me? Why do you let me live? Why do you let me suffer?!! LET ME DIE!"

     Silence.

     "LET ME FUCKING DIE!"

     He went away but Ben simply lay there, his entire body still hurting from the ordeal. It was becoming quite clear that he was not going to be able to beat him on his own. His body was bruised, his muscles were sore, and his reflexes were too dull. He needed help.

     He needed Bellator.