Queens.
Shang-Chi had been having nightmares for days.
He wanted someone to talk to, but there was no one he could confide in.
All he could do was head to Midtown High School with dark circles under his eyes.
Fortunately, aside from the severe damage to Manhattan, the other boroughs had largely been spared.
As he passed a construction crew hard at work hauling away Chitauri wreckage, thoughts churned in his mind.
He had killed again.
When the Chitauri invaded, he had been working a part-time job in Manhattan and had been forced to fight back.
Even against aliens, Shang-Chi was strong enough to hold his own.
He had killed several Chitauri Soldiers, and everything had been fine at first.
Until he saw someone taking advantage of the chaos to commit a crime.
A woman lay on the ground, and a robber was rifling through her belongings.
Shang-Chi had lost control and beaten the robber to death.
He had never expected that to happen.
Anger had clouded his mind, and his punch had seemed to carry boundless power, shattering the man's bones.
In all that chaos, no one would notice the death of some street thug.
Yet Shang-Chi, who had killed for the second time, began having nightmares.
He had run back to his apartment in Queens and washed his hands for an hour.
Only when the water had soaked his skin white did he stop, staring blankly at his powerful hands.
For some reason, he felt afraid.
The man had been scum. So what if he died?
But Shang-Chi began to fear returning to the life he had once lived.
He did not want to become ruthless and cruel like his father.
And so the nightmares began.
In his dreams, he returned to the Ten Rings compound.
He saw