A/N: Hey, reviews! Big surprise! I like reviews. They let me know what I should work on and what sounds good.
Appreciative Reader: Ooh, bad pun. I like it, though!
ShadowShock: Nice formatting is always a plus, in my opinion. See all those stories that're only half-formatted? Not very good eye-candy. Why they get billions of reviews stumps me, but I prefer few reviews and nice formatting to lots of reviews and cruddy formatting.
Ankhutenshi: He's trying to wear Spider-Man down gradually. Not just in the physical sense but in the psychological sense, as well. If Spider-Man's not an ally, he's an enemy. *shrug*
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"You're a mess."
Peter scoffed. "Why, thanks, Carson. You're looking very sunny and uplifting as well."
He had just returned to the Bugle from the warehouse district. The perspiration of battle, as well as the smoke and ash, had found its way all over Peter's face, hands, and clothes. He had, of course, noticed this, but he wasn't feeling particularly inclined to do anything about it for the moment. Especially for a sniveling weasel like Carson...
"Parker!"
Peter rolled his eyes as he turned around. Can't catch a break these days... "Yes, Mr. Jameson?"
Jameson had actually moved beyond chewing the cigar in his teeth to gnawing on it, almost the same way a beaver might gnaw a piece of wood. He had a glint in his eyes, a kind of spark that Peter knew all to well: the triumphant, smug, "I knew it all along" look, complete with a physical display of a huge grin.
"I suppose you've heard the news, eh, Parker?"
"Yes, sir."
"Guess that means you'll be having a tough time taking any more shots of Spider-Man, then. Tough break on your paycheck."
Go ahead, kick me out of here. I dare you. I'll shove your ugly face through the wall. "Yes, sir."
Jameson clapped Peter on the shoulder once. "Well, don't worry about it, my boy. There's always a story that needs to show and tell, and your pictures do indeed show a good story. When they finally catch that damn wall crawler, we'll need you for the court dates." Jameson chuckled. "But for the moment, I do believe that the pictures you'll be bringing for other stories will be just as good."
Peter wasn't surprised that he was suddenly getting the star treatment. It was what happened during all those other times Spider-Man had been accused of wrongdoing by someone other than the editor-in-chief of the Daily Bugle, and therefore somehow justified Jameson's belief that Spider-Man was a creature of the devil.
"How about you go see if Ben Urich needs any more help with his story, eh?" Jameson clapped Peter on the shoulder again, and then returned to his office, the elated look on his lined, craggy face ever present... a look that Spider-Man had always envisioned wiping off someday.
Peter sauntered over to Ben's desk, which was cluttered with paper, as was usually the case. Ben was poring over files when he caught sight of the photographer. "Peter! How's it going?"
"It was going a lot better yesterday, when they weren't accusing Spider-Man of being a thief."
Ben sighed and clasped his hands together. "Yeah, I suppose so. It doesn't exactly seem characteristic of him, though." He pointed at Peter. "I feel safe in telling you that because I can tell, just by the way you said 'accusing', that you don't believe he did it. Am I mistaken?"
Peter shook his head.
"Okay, then. So neither of us thinks he robbed those jewelry stores. Care to give me a reason or two as to why he wouldn't do it?"
Peter shrugged. "Spider-Man's looking for the city's interest, not his own. And even if he were to rob a jewelry store, I'd think he'd be a bit more cautious about it."
Ben nodded. "True. He'd find a way to completely evade the security systems... he wouldn't just goof around and wait for the camera to taking a picture of him. He'd be in and out. It's the way I've always seen him operate."
Peter found himself in agreement. Spider-Man was an in-and-out sort of character. It was part of him, completely natural to him, a modus operandi he'd put to use ever since his first days of crime fighting. It had made sense those first few days... the faster you beat up the bad guys and leave, the less chance the bad guy's reinforcements will intervene.
"But you're also right about him and the city's interests. Despite what Jameson may say, Spider-Man has been a champion of this city, even the world, many times over. Why reduce himself to petty robbery, and even then, make such a sloppy job of it? It just doesn't make sense."
"In that case, do you have any idea as to who might have done it?"
Ben shrugged. "I'm sure someone could have cobbled together a cheap Spider-Man outfit somehow. So that doesn't really narrow the list down too much. But if you think about the footage from the stores' security tapes, one can tell that he's almost exactly the same height as Spider-Man would be. Only his enemies really have any perspective of him up close and personal like that... either his enemies or someone else acquainted with them. In which case, even as unlikely as it may seem, we might have to take shapeshifters, like mutants or aliens, into account."
Peter nodded. When it came to things like these, where he was uncertain, it almost always seemed to make him feel better when he talked to Ben.
Ben slapped his knees. "Well! I imagine you came over here for something other than griping with me about the Spider-Man situation?"
Peter scoffed. "Jonah wanted me to find out if there's anything else on the council story that I can help out with."
Ben shrugged again. "They're holding another meeting this evening, around eight. I think I've got all the photos I need, though... I'll just take from the pool that you made with the first round."
Peter allowed a small smile. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
"No problem. Meanwhile..." A grin spread across Ben's face. "Kiddo, you look absolutely exhausted. Go home and get some sleep."
"Sounds good to me. Oh!" Peter's hands jumped to the camera around his neck. He popped the roll of film out and handed it to Ben. "Could you do me a favor and take care of this for me when you've got the time?"
"Sure." Ben took the roll and inspected it for a few moments. "Strange that this little thing can tell such a big story." He glanced back up at Peter. "I'll make sure these're properly developed... that one-hour place around the corner is good, but it's hardly the best."
"This from a writer. My pics are that bad?"
"No, no, they're always quality. Just making sure you have a reason to keep coming back. Jonah may be a pain, but everyone else here seems to like you."
Peter smiled. "Good to know. Thanks for taking care of it."
"Yeah. Now vamoose! Get some sleep!"
Peter chuckled as he left the building and headed home.
***
He spent a majority of the day taking Ben's advice, staying home and lounging around. He did head to the newsstands outside the apartment complex and pick up two papers at one point, making sure not to get a copy of the Bugle. He could head back at any point and get a copy for free... why waste the change?
Not surprisingly, both papers had articles about Spider-Man somewhere on the front cover. Peter sighed as he perused the articles... both were pretty much the same story, just told from two different people. Spider-Man had apparently robbed no less than a dozen jewelry stores across Manhattan, getting caught full-view on almost all of their security cameras. The total loss was somewhere in the vicinity of two million dollars, and the stores had all closed for the day... possibly the week, the month, or even permanently.
There was also the matter of Pyro's capture. He'd gotten pictures of that, as well... the mutant had been waiting for a good fifteen to twenty minutes before anybody thought to look back there. As he was being led away (his webbing bonds good for another half-hour, at the least), he wailed to everyone within earshot about the poisoned food and how Spider-Man was a traitor to mutantkind. He'd been taken to a solitary confinement cell in the max security prison... no light whatsoever, and thick concrete walls all around. At last report, he was still screaming about the food and Spider-Man.
It was at this point that he began the tedious task of trying to contact other heroes for some sort of assistance. He tried the Fantastic Four, the Avengers... even the Xavier Institute in Westchester. But every time he tried to call them, the call seemed to disconnect; he heard a click, and then a dial tone. He nearly threw the phone against the wall in frustration.
He sat back against the headboard of his bed and laid the crook of his elbow across the bridge of his nose, the segments of his arm each covering one eye. Why does all this have to happen to me? First Lehnsherr and his vaunted Brotherhood, then Black Cat ditching, and now this... and in the middle of all that, I'm getting more and more rattled every time I hear the word "mutant". What's happening to me? Am I becoming like Lehnsherr... bitter about everyone who doesn't accept me for who and what I am, even if it's only in "hero mode"?
They're all right. I am a mutant, whether I choose to acknowledge it or not. I guess that automatically makes me a "brother". I didn't really have any more choice in the matter of getting bitten by that spider than the born mutants did about their own genetic structure. None of us can help being what we are.
His brow knitted. But what happens when humanity decides to actively hunt us all down? I might be safe, but it's doubtful that others will. What'll happen when that time... that war... comes? Which side will I take?
He found himself lost in thought for a long time, and he drifted into a fitful sleep. It was only at the ringing of the phone that he awoke. The arm over his eyes was asleep now, and he had to shove it off with his other hand.
Peter managed to grab the receiver before the answering machine picked up. "Hello?"
"Hey, tiger. Still missing me?"
"You know it." Peter settled himself and let his deadened arm hang limply at his side. "You got some time? I really need someone to talk to right about now."
"I think I can spare a few moments," MJ chuckled. Her tone grew more serious, though, as she said, "I've been hearing some weird reports about Spider-Man... going on some bizarre shopping spree?"
"It wasn't me," he replied. "Some impostor. Again. You'd think these stupid humans would know better by now."
"Stupid humans?"
Oh, no... now it's bleeding into home life! Peter spoke slowly. "I... think I've got some explaining to do."
"You've got that right. Start talking."
And so he did. He launched into it from the very beginning, when he'd first been approached by Lehnsherr atop the Statue of Liberty, to Black Cat saying she was with the Brotherhood now, to the mutant girl he'd rescued, to the news of the impostor.
MJ sighed as she took all the news in. She started with Lehnsherr. "Seems to me like you made the right decision by not joining him, then. Otherwise he'd probably have found a way to sucker you into doing what he wants."
"Maybe... but somehow, he finds ways of touching chords with mutants." He then told her the story of battling Pyro, and how the man had claimed that the food he'd burned was poison.
"That's a problem," she said in massive understatement.
"Um, yes. But if he's telling them, they're bound to do something about it. Activists might have the FDA take a closer look at the organic components in the food... make sure everything's in line. They'll find out if it's not. Probably with a blood sample from Pyro himself, no less... that'd be fitting."
"I'll bet. Meanwhile... what're you gonna do about all of it?"
Peter shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not sure what I can do about all of it. I guess I'll just take it one step at a time. If Lehnsherr's mutants attack again, I'll be there to handle them... and if they've got a genuine problem with something, they'll let the public know. In the only way they know how."
MJ sighed. "You've got your hands tied, haven't you?"
"Indeed."
"Wish I could be there with you. I'm actually getting offers here... walk-on roles and the like, nothing permanent, but at least I'm getting jobs and making money. Speaking of jobs, how's Jameson taking the news of Spider-Man's reported thievery?"
"Oh, he's ecstatic. You should have seen the way his eyes were glinting today... matched the lit butt of his cigar. Disgusting."
"Glad I missed it."
"You should be." Peter heaved a long sigh. "Any suggestions?"
"None whatsoever. You're gonna have to be the brains and brawn for this, tiger."
"How comforting."
MJ snorted. "Be thankful you even have someone left to talk to about it. If you come across her again, you could try to talk Black Cat out of the Brotherhood... maybe she'll listen this time."
"I can only hope at this point. I don't even know if she'll turn up again... or if she does, if she'll come about in a peaceful manner." There's the scary prospect that I might have to fight her, if Lehnsherr's as convincing as all that...
"Then we'll both hope. Maybe your chances will increase."
"Maybe." Peter glanced at the clock. 7:53 P.M. Almost time for the council meeting to start. "The city council's trying to figure out what to do about the mutants. A couple of them are really prejudiced. They're not even hiding it. But the others either don't care or are pro-mutant."
"Let's hope it stays that way, then."
"Yeah. Had to sit through one of their sessions the other day. Not fun."
"Guess not. Listen, I've got to run soon; there's a taping I have to be at in a little bit. I'll call when I can, okay?"
"All right. Love you."
"Love you, too. Stay safe."
Peter hung up, got off the bed, and hunted down the remote control. He sat down in front of the TV and started channel surfing. Something to occupy my time until something actually newsworthy pops up...
He didn't find any stations he wanted to stick with before eight o'clock; at that point, he changed it to one of the local stations that broadcast the council meeting live. This one, like the one he'd attended, was boring.
The difference is that I can actually fall asleep in the middle of this one without worrying about getting my butt kicked out of the Bugle for good...
Councilman Daniels was on the warpath again. His oration was as long and made as little sense as any filibuster Peter had ever heard, but he was passionate about the issue. He wanted internment camps for mutants, plain and simple, just as Senator Kelly did.
Yeah, sure, Daniels. Let's see you jump into those camps and become like us. See how you'd handle that sort of lifestyle. Persecution and hatred for what you are. Mutants don't persecute the humans. It's always the majority that persecutes the minority, not the other way around. Fortunately, however, the other council members seemed to be keeping Daniels in check... relatively.
Suddenly, a burst of static blitzed the sound on the TV. Peter turned the volume down somewhat, but then spotted something that made him pay far more attention with his eyes than with his ears.
The papers that were cluttering the tables before them were suddenly rising from those tables and flying about, as if struck by a strong wind. Yet from the appearances of the council members, there was no such wind gusting through the chamber.
Several council members stood up at this sudden, strange, and more than a little frightening turn of events.
A youthful face abruptly appeared in front of the camera. He had white hair, but he was obviously a young man, seemingly no older than Peter. His sharp features and his steely eyes burned into Peter's from across the boundaries of the TV screen.
The static suddenly let up, and his voice was made audible.
"Hello, all. Quicksilver here. Sorry to interrupt your regularly scheduled broadcast of these boring old geezers, but I've got a few things to say. We don't like how you humans have taken to letting all your anger out on mutants. We don't think it's fair that you take it out on us, and we're not 'allowed' to retaliate. So here we are, paying you back for all the grief you've given us. And we're gonna start with Mr. Daniels, over here."
He grinned and gestured theatrically at Councilman Daniels's seat. The man was apparently trying to remove his butt from his chair, and he seemed to be having an exceedingly difficult time in doing so.
A young woman stood behind him. She sported black and dark red clothing, with a long red overcoat. She wore gold jewelry, most culminating in crosses of different forms. She had short, black hair with reddish highlights, and her eyes seemed to burn with an unexplainable hatred.
She was holding her hands out almost strategically, the fingers on her right hand wiggling at the papers flying about the chambers, while her left hand was spread out over Daniels's head.
The fingers on that hand began to curl.
Daniels's struggling at his chair stopped, and he brought both his hands up to claw at his chest. He began to babble incoherently.
Suddenly, Quicksilver appeared at the young woman's side. For a moment, Peter wondered if somehow the camera had skipped a couple of slides, but it was all real-time.
A crackling whoosh came across the audio as a burst of static.
He must have run over there... in a millisecond...
His garb could be seen now... he was wearing a blue and aqua costume, with aerodynamic-looking white armor settled on his shoulders, arms, and shins. The young man waved at the camera. "And now you'll all see what we have to say. Or, rather, what the Scarlet Witch has to say."
The apartment was already vacant.
***
The police were taking a longer time to get to the council chambers, it seemed, than they had to get to the warehouse. Nevertheless, they got there before Spider-Man did. He watched the cruisers crowd around the building as he rode his webs through the residential districts.
He heard the crackling of gunfire only a few moments later, and a sick feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. I didn't see anything happen... are they firing on the mutants without provocation?
He swung harder and soared up high. When he hit the apex of his gain, he fired a webline toward the ornamental steeple atop the building. The web fastened to it, and he wound around the towering pillar several times before landing on the roof.
He searched around for an air vent and found one off to the left. He climbed inside and made his way through the intensely dirty innards of the council chambers. He could hear Quicksilver talking to the TV cameras, off in the distance.
"...and in case any police decide to show up, which there most undoubtedly will be, we've taken necessary precautions. Some of you blue boys already know what my darling sister can do, what with those guns of yours going off in the trunks of your own cars. How sad is that? I mean, really... you can't even control your own weaponry. So how do you expect to control the mutant population?"
Spider-Man felt his spider-sense tingling, and he knew that he was getting closer to his target. He breathed a sigh of relief upon the revelation of what had been going on with the gunfire. Even with the loaded guns, the police knew better than to point their barrels at the cabins. Any gunfire had likely blown out their trunks and perhaps a few chunks of the rear fenders.
"Speaking of mutants," Quicksilver continued, "we need to get back to that point. We mutants don't appreciate the way you humans are treating us like ant hills, just waiting to be knocked over. And my sister and I aren't the only ones who think this, oh no... mutants all over the world are saying the same thing. The deal is, though, that we're willing to take action in order for our voices to be heard. And it's about time, too."
Spider-Man could hear the cries of Councilman Daniels, whose heartbeat was still presumably under the Scarlet Witch's control. No doubt she was decreasing it with each passing moment. Interestingly enough, there seemed to be no other outcries or windbag declarations of retaliation by the police... perhaps the chambers had been evacuated, or everyone else had been allowed to leave...?
"That said, I encourage all of you mutants out there to take action. Let your voices be heard! You don't have to go to the kind of extremes we're going to, obviously, but there are things you can do! You don't have to sit around and wait for the humans to take you where you don't want to go! You can join together and fight for yourselves! Fight for your own freedom!
"You all have to recognize by now that this country is a fraud. All of it! It's no longer a place of peace and tolerance! It's a madhouse of orthodoxy and conformity! You don't have to take it anymore!"
Spider-Man found a grill just above the rear left corner of the chamber, and he didn't waste time. He crashed through it feet first.
There were no other people inside, save the councilman and the two mutants. Thank God for huge favors like that one...
As soon as he landed, his spider-sense twinged hard, and he jumped forward... just in time, because the man called Quicksilver had raced around the room and tried to deliver a devastating punch. His fist sailed through the air and caught nothing but. He cried out and toppled.
Spider-Man fired a line of web at Quicksilver, intent on keeping him floored...
But his spider-sense blasted him as soon as the web was released, and he dodged to the left -- just barely avoiding his own webs.
He frowned. What...?
Quicksilver hopped to his feet and grinned at the wall crawler. "My sister's quite versed in the hexes she can cast. Get ready for a beatdown."
Spider-Man studied his opponent carefully and defensively moved to the left.
Quicksilver's grin grew wider.
The spider-sense twanged, and Spider-Man leapt high into the air. Quicksilver moved just beneath him, missing his target completely.
The spider-sense seemed to slow everything down, and he found himself watching Quicksilver moving to the other side of the chamber... his speed was still obviously superhuman, but he was much easier to track this way.
Great to have a spider's speed on your side, he thought, as Quicksilver came back around, intent on ramming the webslinger.
Spider-Man leapt back to the wall behind him and attached to it, then used the wall and his own momentum as a springboard. He jumped directly forward and straightened out, pumping both of his fist far out in front of him.
Quicksilver saw this at the last possible instant and tried to dodge. He spun on one heel in the process, however, and sent himself into a dizzying spin that landed him on one of the tables. A loud crash resounded throughout the chamber, and he groaned in surprise, dizziness, and pain.
Spider-Man turned to face the Scarlet Witch. Speed's taken care of... now what to do about the power?
She roared incoherently and gestured in his direction.
A flurry of scattered paper all suddenly flew straight at him and seemed to stick to him. He pried away at them, but they returned to him, as if he were a massive charge of static electricity.
Kinda like webbing, he thought. Only it doesn't really hinder any of my movements...
He pointed one web-shooter at her and fired, while at the same time stepping to his right to avoid the web, should it come flying back at him.
But it wasn't the web she gestured at this time... instead, it was the nearest table. Before Spider-Man's stunned eyes, the table stood up, bent, warped, and twisted itself to block the path of the webbing.
Then it flung itself at him.
He jumped high into the air and affixed himself to the ceiling, but almost jumped away from it on reflex... this same move had gotten him into trouble earlier that day.
She grunted, and the ceiling seemed to cave in. Spider-Man lost his grip and fell on his back.
Ohh... that's gonna leave a mark... He gasped for breath as he watched the ceiling continue to cave. Chunks of plaster fell all around him, and he rolled out of the way of one particularly large piece heading straight for his head.
He noticed, as he got back to his feet, that the paper was no longer sticking to him. Thank God for smaller favors, too... He began bounding off the walls and web swinging all around the chamber, knowing that his speed would be his greatest advantage against her; there was no way his other abilities could hope to match hers.
She pulled her left hand away from Councilman Daniels, who had by this time fainted from the slow beat of his heart. That same hand shoved in his direction, and his chair -- with him in it -- flew across the room and nearly struck Spider-Man head-on. Spider-Man dodged it just in time.
"Now, now, is that the way to treat your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?" he called out, as he began erratic maneuvers, trying to keep her off-balance.
Her only response was to fling both of her hands out and roar. The entire chamber seemed to warp itself, the fluorescent lights shattering and exploding. Any drapery was violently ripped from its moorings and flew at the wall crawler, and all furniture jumped out at him, trying to block the path that only he knew.
Spider-Man stayed intent on dodging everything, trying to keep her off-guard. Evasion was key... she was too slow for him, and they both seemed to know it; as a result, she was trying to overpower him.
He fired a web to cross the chamber, but the web swerved in another direction and attached to the wall on the left instead. Spider-Man flailed about on the webline, his planned trajectory fouled. "Whoa!"
With the new plotted course, he'd be sailing straight by her, and he'd be totally open for attack with whatever hexes she had in mind.
But...
He gripped the line tightly in his right hand as he made straight for her. A triumphant smile split the malice on her face, and she stretched both hands out toward him.
Under his right arm, his left hand was waiting, his middle fingers on the palm sensor for his web-shooter.
The webbing sprayed directly into her eyes, much as he had caught Pyro.
She screamed and tried to claw away at the webbing. Her fingers scrabbled across the sticky fluid as Spider-Man landed on the left wall; he rebounded off it and leapt for her. He tackled her around her midsection and took her to the floor.
As she grunted and struggled, he held her wrists to the ground and sprayed her wrists and hands with webbing. For good measure, he webbed her ankles, as well, to ensure that she wouldn't be getting up until authorities found a way to deal with her.
"Pietro!" she screamed. "Help me!"
Spider-sense...
Spider-Man leapt to the side, but was unable to fully dodge the ramming action Quicksilver was executing. His side caught the brunt of it, and he flew into the wall.
"You've still got me to deal with, Spider-Man!" Quicksilver yelled, no longer cocky.
"Lucky me!" Spider-Man retorted, as he tried to get up. Quicksilver charged him again, this time catching him head on.
Spider-Man hit the wall so hard that a crater formed in it. He reached out and tried to catch Quicksilver with a webline, but the young mutant was too fast for it this time. He raced around the council chamber and slammed into him again.
"This wouldn't be so hard on you if you'd just join the Brotherhood!" Quicksilver called out. "We're willing to forgive, even after your transgressions against Pyro! Even against my sister and me!"
The spider-sense seemed to slow everything down again, and this time Spider-Man was somewhat ready for Quicksilver. As Quicksilver circled and tried to hit him once more, he thrust his fist out and caught the mutant under the ribs.
"You guys just don't take 'no' for an answer, do you?" Spider-Man responded, as he rose fully and stepped away from his opponent.
"You're a mutant! We should stand together!" Quicksilver answered, trying to recover from the hit.
"Same song and dance as before. It's getting old." Spider-Man fired another pair of weblines, this time trying to trap Quicksilver between them.
The young mutant again dodged the lines and ran around the council chamber.
Spider-Man stepped swiftly to his right and affixed a webline to the wall, hoping to clothesline his fleetfooted opponent. No such luck; Quicksilver ducked under the line and ended up directly behind Spider-Man.
The spider-sense alerted the wall crawler to his opponent's position, and he swung a roundhouse punch. Quicksilver deftly ducked under it, then offered a punch of his own. Spider-Man limboed under the swing, then came back up and cracked his head against Quicksilver's chin.
They stumbled back, both stunned from the strike, but Quicksilver was again on the evasion, running an erratic path across the chambers. Spider-Man sprayed out multiple weblines, his frustration growing with each miss. He was quickly running out of webbing to use, and the entire place was getting covered in it... but the mutant remained untouched.
The only way I could beat him is if I trip him up... but he's too fast for my webbing... unless...
Spider-Man jumped into the center of the chamber and pulled one of his reserve webbing cartridges from his belt. He dropped it to the floor, jumped up over it, and stomped down on it with one heel, keeping the other foot in the air as if he were in some frozen position of a riverdance.
The webbing from the cartridge spewed out from under his heel, flying across the entire floor until it attached to a wall or a piece of furniture.
Quicksilver had no possible way of avoiding the sticky gunk, and he cried out as he was suddenly, violently stopped in his racks by the instantly fastening fluids.
Spider-Man took that opportunity and sprayed Quicksilver up and down with webbing, the mutant screaming in denial all the while. Soon, the neophyte was covered in web from shoulders to toes.
Spider-Man reached out and gripped the mutant by the neck. "I'll bet he won't be so willing to have me in the Brotherhood after this, huh?"
Quicksilver managed a weak smile. "You're wrong. Even after this, the offer remains open. Not like I want it to now, I guess... but he's at least shown us that mutants shouldn't fight each other. We can't do ourselves any good that way."
"And we're not doing the humans any good by attacking them. We have to show them that we're not the enemy... your way would tell them we're the enemy. Then war will be inevitable."
"It was inevitable from the start. Your way would only delay it... or worse, bring mutantkind to its knees. We can't let the humans take us down!"
"I don't plan to let them do anything to me. I'm going to fight for them, though... because they deserve my protection. More so than people like you."
And with that, Spider-Man departed through the same air vent he'd traveled before.
The cameras were still running.
-------
And what a scene they saw! Review? Even to poke plot holes!