Waking up in a ruin

Elektra's eyes fluttered open. Then, in an instant, she went from bleary to alert; she didn't move, but the rhythm of her breathing changed.

It was... dark, but she could still see. She glimpsed a glimmer of light. And stone, there, and a fallen pillar there, and dust. A lot of dust, from debris rather than age.

She shifted, sitting up when she felt that she was alone. She couldn't hear anyone.

As she did, she felt the stone beneath her rub against her skin. She shook her head for the moment, headache pounding; she lifted a hand to her forehead to try and dismiss the pain.

Her gaze caught on her hand; she wore a black glove, and a tatter of red emerged from the wrist. Strange, she remembered it going further than that, all the way to her elbow. And she remembered...

A fight, the Iron Fist, and Matthew, and... others. The bones of a dragon. She shifted uncomfortably again; she remembered a building coming down on top of her.

It was a miracle she'd survived. If she had; she'd died before. Maybe whatever Alexandra had done to bring her back didn't wear off all at once, or being around the dragon's remains helped. Or maybe she was just obscenely lucky. Elektra sat up-

And finally looked down at herself. More than just the ends of her gloves had been damaged and torn in the collapse; it did rather support the 'had come back again' idea.

She shifted again. She couldn't remember the details, too much chaos, which... that was a familiar sensation too. Apparently she was just better at shaking it off now.

The red and black outfit she'd worn to fight the Defenders was... shredded was too kind a word. She shifted and what remained all but dissolved. Elektra faltered, a little nervously sitting up straighter.

She turned her head. Ok, she was alone, definitely alone. She could also, in retrospect, definitely feel that there was nothing between the bare skin of her ass and the ground. And-

She looked down, and despite years of training she felt a little heat rise to her cheeks. Not even a shred of her panties, even under all the layers of protective clothing.

Her gloves had been lucky. Not only had they been pretty sturdy, meant to take the of her wielding her sai as the handles rubbed against them, but they were a small target. Not much could have been applied to them.

And in the same vein, if she looked down, past a metal bar that lay over her, she could see that her boots seemed decently intact. At the end of bare legs, but still intact.

Elektra breathed in slowly. She doubted she could cheat again, but at least...

She squirmed, wriggling her nude form out from under the bar, and standing up more fully; she crouched to not bump her head under another piece of debris. Whatever hope she'd had of more of her outfit surviving quickly faded as just that light exertion made the frail surviving patches fall away.

Thankfully she was in a more open area, the rubble around her supporting the weight of the large chunks.

She could see daylight though. Getting out would be easy for someone of her training. Just-

And that was when the full facts of her situation hit her.

Yes, she was alive by a combination of whatever the Hand used, and sheer luck. But it was broad daylight by the look of it, she was in the middle of New York, and - she looked down at herself with increasing worry - she was naked.

All she had to her name was her gloves, her boots and - she spotted it suddenly - one of her Sai.

The nude Elektra crouched, leaning over to grab the hilt and withdraw it. Then she stood up again, the heat in her cheeks making her uncharacteristically hesitant.

She needed to get out of the rubble, ideally without half the city seeing her exposed body.