The deafening clang of metal reverberated through the vast underground space as Sean descended in the elevator...
Beside him, Elektra occasionally cast appraising glances at the masked man.
"They won't truly obey me," Elektra said, gripping her short blade.
The black trench coat she now wore fluttered slightly as she moved, "Whether it's Murakami or Sowande, each Hand leader has their own agenda."
Her beautiful eyes which were once filled with savage bestial light now shone with clear human intellect.
"You can't force centuries-old creatures into submission through violence alone," Sean replied with a chuckle, his masked face reflecting the dim elevator lights, "Killing Alexandra was merely to establish dominance. You're the Hand's only Black Sky, a living embodiment of their centuries-old beliefs. The ninjas worship you fanatically. That's your real foundation of power."
"Then what about Murakami and the others? Should we kill them all?" A flash of murderous intent crossed her eyes.
Perhaps because he was the first person she'd seen upon regaining consciousness, Elektra felt an inexplicable trust toward this stranger.
Sean studied her exquisite Eurasian features... though now housing a human soul, they still maintained an icy detachment. Even freed from the Beast's control, emotions didn't return immediately to one who had been the Black Sky's vessel.
"Massacre solves nothing. The Hand is a vast, intricately structured global organization. They control multinational corporations and wield political influence. Sowande has orchestrated coups across Africa, while Murakami maintains deep connections with Japan's Yashida Pharmaceuticals. These networks represent the Hand's true strength." Sean spoke with authority.
Through Wesley's intelligence network and his own knowledge, he had pieced together the organization's sprawling framework.
"Then why...?" Elektra's confusion was evident. If that were true, why had Sean installed her as leader?
"The balance of power will shift," the masked man said calmly, "Right now, the remaining leaders need the Black Sky to deal with Hell's Kitchen's vigilantes. That's why they tolerated Alexandra's death, because excavating the Dragon Bones takes absolute precedence. This is our opportunity."
His fingers tapped rhythmically against the elevator wall, "When Gao, Murakami, Sowande and Bakuto exhaust themselves battling those street-level heroes, you'll quietly consolidate your power."
Elektra found herself mesmerized by the casual cruelty in his words. Perhaps some residual darkness from the Black Sky made her crave this chilling presence, like a moth drawn to a midnight flame...
"Of course, the choice is ultimately yours," Sean's tone shifted, "You're free now, Elektra. You could leave the Hand, return to Matt Murdock, or join Stick in destroying this organization. Life offers countless paths... pursue whichever brings you fulfillment."
Noting her startled expression, he continued calmly, "What the Hand values means nothing to me. Extending life through Dragon Bones? That's no different from withered old men clinging to life support. True meaning isn't measured in longevity... at least not to me."
His words resonated through the underground space with hammer-like intensity, "Even without you, I would still claim control of the Hand. It would simply require more effort. Elektra, we're not temporary allies bound by mutual exploitation. I want nothing from you, and you owe me nothing."
Silence followed his declaration.
Elektra's childhood had been shaped by Stick's brutal training, and was later masked by aristocratic refinement in a diplomat's household...
Rarely had anyone told her: 'You have the right to choose...'
Her dark hair veiled her expression as she hesitated. With a final metallic clunk, the elevator reached its destination.
Sean stepped out first into the cavernous underground space that reeked of mildew and ancient stone.
Under the cover of construction operations, the Hand had purchased this entire building to conduct their relentless excavation for the Dragon Bones' resting place.
After tremendous expenditure of resources and manpower, their efforts had finally located the burial site. But their triumph proved short-lived as a massive sealed door barred their path, the door was impervious to all attempts to breach it.
"Did they try alternative methods?" Sean asked as he approached the ancient barrier covered in intricate runes.
"Alexandra exhausted every option... explosives, diamond-tipped drills," Elektra explained, her voice echoing slightly in the chamber, "Physical force is useless. This is K'un-Lun's sacred seal. Any forced entry triggers hidden mechanisms that would collapse the entire chamber."
Sean ran his fingers along the strange carvings... They appeared to be some primordial language that seemed to demand a specific energy signature to activate.
"A lock created by the Iron Fist," he realized, "That's why you needed Danny Rand..."
Only the unique qi, energy cultivated by K'un-Lun's warriors could open this subterranean vault.
"Which makes him absolutely vital to the Hand," Elektra confirmed as she stared at the imposing stone barrier.
Beyond it lay an entire dragon's skeleton... its marrow infused with life energy capable of resurrection and near immortality...
The Hand's extensive political alliances across multiple nations were built precisely upon this promise. Even the world's wealthiest magnates and most powerful statesmen would trade anything for extended life.
All mortals feared death's inevitable approach. As their years accumulated, this desperation only grew, and the Hand alone held the ultimate bargaining chip.
"Greed blinds even the wisest of men," Sean murmured, his eyes dark with unspoken implications.
For the Hand's leaders, this door represented the continuation of their centuries-long existence.
And yet, perhaps also their final resting place...