Evan McCone

The lights dim, the crowd falls silent, and every screen on the stage goes black. Even the Hunters—Buzzsaw, Dynamo, Subzero, Fireball, Captain Freedom, and McCone—can tell something is off. Network never deviates from script. A single figure steps onto the platform, dressed in a tactical suit and a featureless mask. No theatrics, no theme music, no flashy introduction. Their movements are too controlled, too quiet—nothing like the usual showmanship Network demands. Bobby’s voice breaks through the static with a familiar tone: "A new Hunter joins the roster!"

The Hunters exchange glances, confused. None of them were briefed. No training records, no name, no file. It’s impossible; Killian always informs them—unless they don’t want them to know. The masked figure stops at center stage. With one clean motion, they remove the mask. A woman’s face. Calm. Focused. Expression unreadable. The audience was expecting another brute, another monster tailored for spectacle—not someone with discipline radiating from every movement. Even the Hunters hesitate. Buzzsaw mutters something under his breath. Dynamo squints like he’s trying to compute what he’s seeing. Fireball looks annoyed. Captain Freedom stands at attention out of instinct.

McCone doesn’t react outwardly, but his gaze sharpens. Her stance, her breathing, her balance—none of it aligns with civilian training or military records he knows. It’s too precise. Too lethal. Too quiet. She’s been forged somewhere off the books, somewhere Network doesn’t publicly acknowledge. The woman offers a single, deliberate nod. No smile. No performance. Just presence—controlled, measured, dangerous.

No backstory. No introduction package. Just silence.

A new Hunter has arrived, unannounced and unapproved. The rules just changed.

hey, I added the stalkers (buzzsaw, subzero, those ones) of the 87's movie, they are not corny. I adjusted them to fit into the 2025's movie version. They are not some hockey players, dw.