Snip to 44

(The Raft)

Howard, a corrections veteran with an impressive thirty-five years of experience, had served in a total of seven of the nation's most formidable correctional facilities—five maximum-security prisons and two supermax institutions. Now, as he casually flips through the various papers on his clipboard, his gaze occasionally drifts towards the ten-inch steel vault door, anticipating the arrival of the newest recruit. A young buck who worked in Texas by the name of Beck, whom Howard is tasked with giving a tour. Something he’s done many times now since he’s been here. 

Despite his vast experience, Howard was essentially demoted when he was assigned to this place. But only because of how advanced it is. All the technology and protocols put into this place make his head spin. Though considering the kinds of criminals this place holds, he can understand why, and why he isn’t qualified to be in charge. 

Nevertheless, the old guard finds himself consistently impressed by The Raft. Though it was a relatively new establishment—less than a decade old, a stark contrast to the venerable, decades-old facilities he's known intimately—The Raft has unequivocally surpassed all others in terms of its security protocols and structural integrity. Howard has a hard time getting out at the end of his shift. Each checkpoint, each biometric scan, each heavy, reinforced door served as a constant reminder of The Raft's impenetrable design

There have been several breakouts, but the place is constantly upgraded, which is a big reason why he’ll never get a promotion. But he still gets great pay and benefits, so he is okay with it. 

The sound of locks tumbling alerts him to the door being opened. Once it does, he sees the young man he’s been expecting, beck, looking nervous as a kid on his first day of school.

“Beck?” He calls out to the young man as he steps up to shake his hand, “Nice to meet ya, son. Welcome to the Raft.”

The young man returns the shake, not as firmly. “N-nice to b-be here.”

Howard lets go of Beck’s hand and raises a brow at him, “You alright?”

The young man rubs his hands together, a nervous tick, as he answers, “I-I just heard a-a lot about this p-place. All about th-the k-kind of p-people they have h-here. Like C-C-Carnage, and J-Juggernaught, and I think they said a vampire?”

"First thing you need to know," Howard begins, his voice taking on the practiced cadence of a man who's given this speech too many times, "Is that The Raft operates on a tier system. We've got four levels, each one more secure than the last. You're starting at Level One, which is where we keep the low-risk enhanced individuals. Guys with minor powers, dangerous tech, or are unable to do anything.”

They reach a reinforced window, and Howard stops, gesturing for Beck to look. Through the thick glass, a man in an orange jumpsuit sits on a cot, reading a book. 

“That’s Herman Shults,” Howard says, “You’d probably know him better as the Shocker. The guy constantly gets beaten up by Spider-Man.” 

Beck’s jaw went stiff. Not just a flicker of contempt—the muscle bunched in the side of his face was so tight you could have bounced a quarter off it. Howard pegged it as disgust for Shults, but the rookie was hard to read.

The kid leaned in close, his nose almost to the glass, breath misting the little rectangular slab they let him peer through. “Doesn’t this guy escape a lot?”

“Plenty,” The older guard replies, “And has gotten out too many times for my comfort. I keep saying he needs to be upgraded to a level two or three containment, but the brass don’t think he’s worth it.”

Beck nodded, once, then flicked a look back, something curious and sharp in his eyes. “What did you mean, ‘can’t do anything’?”

Howard gestures to the next cell and Beck looks inside. There, for what could be mistaken for a metallic statue, is actually a man coated in some kind of metal alloy. He has tubes sticking out from his mouth and two more in private areas. 

“Charles Weirderman,” Howard says, “Boy got into some accident when messing with vibranium. It infused itself into his skin and made him strong. He then went on a rampage, killed a few people, before Spider-Man stopped. For good.”

Before Howard can elaborate on Level Four, the alarm system erupts. Red lights strobe down every corridor, and a mechanical voice booms through the facility: "Security breach. Level Three. All personnel report to stations."