The Invisible String: Matt Murdock/ Daredevil

15

That was all she needed.

She swept low, grabbing the strap of his vest and twisting — her palm against his chest, absorbing the fear and adrenaline surging through him. It pulsed through her like a live wire.

Then she sent it back — amplified.

The man stumbled, overwhelmed, dropped to his knees and passed out cold.

Matt dropped down beside her. "Two more on the other side of the cargo bay."

"I'll take left," she said, already moving.

He hesitated a split second. "Annalise—"

"I've got it," she said firmly.

They split, moving like dancers through the dark.

She reached the corner and slipped inside a loading bay. One of the guards was pacing near a control panel — nervous, but not alert. She could feel the guilt radiating off him — enough to choke someone.

A whisper of thought: He doesn't want to be here. He's not loyal. Just afraid.

She approached silently and laid a hand on the wall, then exhaled — sending a calming current through the space, muffling the electrical buzz of fear. He stopped, blinking, disoriented — and never heard her coming. One solid strike to the temple, and he dropped.

Across the lot, Matt was already dragging another body into the shadows.

They met again near the main warehouse, breath quiet, movements clean.

"That's all of them," he said.

"No gunfire. No alarms," Annalise added, slightly impressed. "You really do clean up nice."

He smiled faintly. "Not done yet."

They stepped inside the main structure — a towering steel-and-glass shell filled with pallets, crates, and dim safety lights. The building thrummed with silence, like it knew something they didn't.

Annalise's expression changed almost instantly.

She stopped. "Wait."

Matt froze too, head tilting.

"...What?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed. "Something's wrong. There's no emotional echo."

Matt listened. Nothing.

No heartbeat.

No breathing.

No Karen.

He exhaled slowly. "...She's not here."

They stepped further in anyway, verifying — back rooms, locked offices, even a false floor under the central crate stack.

Nothing.

Just an empty, silent trap.

Then, a flicker of sound — static, then a distorted voice coming from a nearby speaker mounted on the wall.

Annalise stiffened. Matt turned his head toward the sound.

Fisk.

"Impressive," came the deep, cold voice. "You moved well. Quiet. Efficient. I'll give you that."

Annalise's fists clenched. "Where is she?"

Fisk continued, unbothered. "You thought I'd make it that easy? This warehouse hasn't seen a shipment in three weeks. I just needed you to come."

Matt's jaw tightened. "You wanted us distracted."

Fisk's voice darkened. "I wanted to see what you'd risk. How far you'd go. And now I have my answer."

"We're done playing your game," Annalise snapped. "Tell us where she is, or I swear—"

"Ah," Fisk interrupted. "But I am telling you. You'll get her... if you hand yourselves over."

Matt didn't move, but his breath drew in sharp. "So that's it. You want us both."

"I want this over," Fisk said simply.

The warehouse felt suddenly colder. The silence a different kind of heavy.

Annalise narrowed her eyes, the emotional static around her sharpening. But then... something else caught her attention.

Her boot made a quiet squelch.

She glanced down. The concrete floor, previously dull and dry, now glistened under the dim warehouse lights. A thin layer of moisture — too even to be natural — coated the ground.

"Matt," she said tightly. "The floor's wet."

He was already listening — not to her voice, but to the low, mechanical hum building beneath the silence.

His head jerked toward the far corner — a small, blinking red light behind a mesh panel. A hidden switch just flicked on.

And then the current hit.

A sharp, high-pitched buzz filled the room as the metal walls groaned and pulsed. The floor lit faintly with crackling blue arcs of electricity jumping along the moisture — not enough to kill, but far more than enough to incapacitate.

Matt staggered slightly, instincts firing — but his rubber-soled boots grounded him. He clenched his teeth, anchoring himself.

She gasped, stumbling back against a stack of crates. Her rubber shoes saved her from full voltage, but the stimulation wasn't just physical. For someone with her abilities, it was like being trapped in a room with a thousand screaming thoughts all at once, over and over, too fast to filter.

Her breath hitched. Hands trembling. Thoughts scrambled.

She managed to choke out, eyes wide. "I can't—"

Her knees buckled.

Matt didn't hesitate.

He reached across the sparking floor, dodging small arcs, and caught her just before she collapsed completely. Her body was burning with energy, her pulse spiking erratically.

"I've got you," he murmured, hoisting her into his arms and pressing her head gently to his shoulder. "Stay with me."

She tried to speak, but the words came out fractured. Static filled her mind, her senses overloading.

Matt pushed through the exit, kicking open the side door. The night air hit them both like a slap, cold, sharp, clean. The electric buzz faded behind them.

He lowered her carefully against the alley wall behind the warehouse, checking her pulse, watching her face.

She blinked at him, glassy-eyed but breathing.

"Just breathe," he said softly. "You're okay."

But it wasn't.

A soft hiss — barely audible — snapped his head up.

Pfft.

Something sharp jabbed into his neck.

His hand shot to it, but it was already too late.

He turned just in time to see the same thing strike Annalise, a small dart embedded just beneath her collarbone.

Her body jerked once. Then stilled.

Matt tried to rise, vision swimming.

"Fuck,"

The world tipped sideways.

The last thing he heard before darkness took him was the faint grind of tires and the click of boots on gravel.