The rain never stops in Hell's Kitchen. It drums against the rooftops, echoes in the alleys, whispers through the bones of the city. I hear every drop, every footstep, every heartbeat. My name is Matt Murdock. By day, I’m a lawyer. By night, I’m something else.\n\nI was eight when the truck swerved, when the canister burst open, when the world went dark. But in that darkness, something awakened. My ears, my skin, my blood—it all became a map. I could hear a man’s pulse from ten feet away. I could feel the tremor in his voice when he lied.\n\nMy father, Jack, was a boxer. 'The Devil,' they called him. Not for his fists, but for his heart. He took dirty money once, to give me a better life. But when I went blind, he swore it would end. He fought clean. He rose again.\n\nAnd then they killed him.\n\nNow, years later, I stand on the edge of a rooftop, the wind howling in my ears. Below, a woman screams. I don’t need to see her to know she’s cornered. I don’t need to see the knife to know it’s close.\n\nI take a breath. The city holds its breath with me.\n\nDo I go to her as Matt Murdock—the man sworn to the law?\n\nOr do I become the Devil?