Spider-Man was quiet as he entered the Daily Bugle. Johnny, who had probably never set foot in the place before, elbowed him and said, "home sweet home, Webs."

Spider-Man failed to reply. Johnny then asked, "So, who do you think he is?"

"Huh?"

"The guy in your costume. Who do you think it is?"

"Chameleon," Spider-Man said without hesitation. "He hit me with a pipe instead of full-on combat. And Mister Presto Change-o isn't known for his karate moves." He turned around then and said, "We better search the place. You take the odd levels, I'll take even."

"But there are, like, forty stories!"

Spider-Man nodded. "Then you better 'flame on', pretty boy."

Johnny nodded and they both headed for the stairwell. Each floor was almost identical: there were a few cubicles, a large number of desks with computers, a central printer, and a few private offices. Spider-Man could hear the Torch complaining. A few people were still in the building and were in the process of being evacuated. Spider-Man stopped them and asked questions. No one had actually seen the impostor, and few had known he was even there. Spider-Man came to a conclusion that the impostor had to be in the basement--it was the only place where he would remain unseen.

The basement was home to a few floors, actually. There was the main hub, where the paper was printed and distributed. But there was also another level Spider-Man had never been on. He groaned, not excited about the damp, cold, dark surprises the basement had planned for him.

He entered the stairwell and headed down, as talking the elevator was a bad idea. As soon as the doors opened, his arrival would be known to everyone down there. He waited for a buzz from his spider-sense, found nothing, and continued down. He finally entered through a door, closed it quickly, and waited. There was nothing. The lights were on, which Spider-Man wondered was usual.

He was practically tip-toeing around, listening for anything. Finally he got a slight warning from his spider-sense. He decided it was time to take action. "Come on," he said. "I know you're down here. Why couldn't you ruin someone else's reputation? It had to be me, it's always me!"

The impostor wasn't budging, obvious enough. So Spider-Man kept talking while he took a look around. "Listen, buddy. Let's just talk, alright? Hopefully you didn't bring anymore lead pipes..."

"What do you want?" the voice echoed through the basement.

"I want to see who the heck almost got me shot! Why? Why did you do it? What's your motivation? How could you benefit from it?" His spider-sense suddenly went nuts. He ducked and rolled out of the way in time to see the red-suited impostor emerge, striking the ground with a pipe. "Aw, come on!" Spider-Man cried. "Another pipe? Are you serious?" The impostor went to strike again, and Spider-Man tried to catch it. That was a bad idea, as he underestimated the man's strength and he felt his wrist bend backwards. He screamed out in pain, his hand hanging at an unnatural angle. He bit his lip through the pain and charged, jumping and aiming his foot at the fraud's head. On impact the red-suited man flew backwards against the wall.

"Was breaking my wrist really necessary?" Spider-Man howled. But the man did not reply. He did not answer or move at all. Spider-Man went to check on him. There was no pulse. Quickly he tore the mask off, and what he found surprised him. There was no way of identifying the man, because he had no face. It was a robot. And Spider-Man's kick to its head had destroyed its mainframe. He could ask Mr. Fantastic to see if there was a way to trace it, but other than that the real person behind all this was a mystery.

Spider-Man heard something. He turned around, looking in all directions. His spider-sense did not give any warning that it was danger approaching, but he still had an eerie feeling. And then a man appeared. He could not make out the darkened figure, but he prepared for the worst. A creepy silhouette was never good news.