New York was destined to be anything but peaceful tonight. A large group of Superheroes was fighting off a gigantic monster not far from the coastline, while many people were trying to flee the city. Even in the dead of night, streets throughout the city were packed solid.
Naturally, some wanted to run, while others had no intention of running at all.
Some were die-hard fans of Iron Man or Captain America, believing their idols could handle everything.
Others had different motives.
Then there were those who wanted money more than their lives, rushing toward the coastline in an attempt to livestream the clearest footage possible—at the very least, clearer than what the helicopters flying high overhead could capture.
Some prayed at home. Some slept drunkenly, knowing nothing. Some shouted that the end had come before putting a gun in their mouths.
Humans were social creatures, but when faced with drastic changes in their environment or unexpected events, differences in personality drove different people to do all sorts of things. That was where chaos came from.
The streetlights were bright, but there were always places that belonged to darkness.
From the bushes of a park along a side street in the Upper East Side, a furtive shadow emerged.
Not far away was a road jammed with vehicles, yet this person in a black skintight suit was moving against the flow of people.
He was the sort of guy anyone who saw him would definitely label a freak. Not only was he dressed all in black in the middle of the night, his entire head was wrapped in a huge black sphere. At the front was a white circle, with a black Arabic numeral 8 written inside it.
Eight-Ball was both the nickname for the black eight ball in billiards and