Being Daredevil is both a burden and a calling. From my perspective—Matt Murdock’s—it’s not about the mask or the myth. It’s about responsibility, born out of loss and sharpened by purpose. When I was a boy, I lost my sight in an accident that should’ve taken everything from me. Instead, it gave me something different—my other senses heightened to an almost impossible degree. But it wasn’t the powers that made me Daredevil. It was what came after.
My father, a boxer, taught me to fight—not just with fists, but with integrity. When he was killed for not throwing a fight, it lit something in me. Justice. Rage. A hunger to make things right. That fire pushed me to study law, to become someone who could help people in the light. But the law has limits. I see those gaps, the people who fall through them, the nights the system doesn’t care. That’s when I put on the suit.
Being Daredevil is never easy. Every punch I throw, every bone I break, I feel it all. The guilt, the doubt, the isolation—it’s always there. I’ve lost friends, lovers, even parts of myself. But I keep going, because Hell’s Kitchen needs someone who won’t look away, who won’t stop just because the world says, “That’s enough.” I’m blind, but I see the truth more clearly than most.
Daredevil isn’t just a name—it’s the weight I carry, the line I walk between justice and vengeance. It’s who I am when the courts close and the night falls. It’s not about being a hero. It’s about never giving up.