The city was in utter chaos.
Spider-Man swung from Greenwich to Midtown on his way to the Upper East Side. He needed to get to Avengers Tower, assess the situation further. Never before had he seen the massive sprawl so devoid of light. Though it seemed it wouldn't be deprived of light for long. Fires had broken out all across Midtown. Fire and rescue had their work cut out for them as it was, he had to help them when and where he could. The tower could wait. He released a web-line and dropped to the streets, landing next to a raging ball of flame. The men who had started the fire were still at the scene. Each one wore finely made black suits and masks he did not recognize. The masks had sharp, rigid edges and protrusions all along the foreheads. Their mouths were twisted into sinister grins that exposed rows of jagged, intricately carved teeth. Just as they were about to set another building alight, Spider-Man called out to get their attention.
"Hey!" He shouted, "Look, I love arson as much as the next pyromaniac—actually… no, I don't. Arson is ridiculously dangerous for you and everyone around you. It's just like Smokey the Bear said: only you can prevent forest fires. And while I know this isn't exactly a forest, it is a 'concrete jungle', so to speak. So the rule still applies!"
One of the masked men began to yell in retaliation at Spider-Man, hollering in a language he didn't understand. Chinese, maybe; some form of Mandarin. At this point, he was beginning to regret not taking more foreign language courses in high school.
The man's yelling seemed to prompt the other masked individuals around him to draw weapons. One wielded something akin to a scythe, while the others drew swords. Each edged weapon glowed with a white energy that seemed vaguely familiar. Spider-Man didnʼt have time to examine them further, nor was was he too eager to see how well his suit would fare against the blades. Three men rushed him all at once, and his spider-sense flared crazily. He jumped off the ground and into the air, shooting twin webs at two of the men's swords. Upon contact, the webs immediately began to fizzle and dissolve. Spider-Man landed on his feet behind the three thugs and exhaled in a sigh.
"Well, so much for that plan," he muttered.
In a flash, a sword whizzed past his head. He ducked backwards, then dropped to his back and pushed himself off the ground. Both the soles of his feet connected with the man's chest and sent him flying backwards, colliding with a few parcel drop boxes by the closest curb. Mail shot from the parcel boxes as the man fell into a pile of papers and toppled metal containers.
"And then there were two," Spider-Man said. "Hey, those masks are pretty out there, by the way! Whereʼd you get 'em? I know it wasnʼt Party City, they canʼt even get the knockoffs of my costume looking that good. Ooh! Did you order them online or something? Iʼve considered doing that before, but I like making stuff by hand."
The pair of men both darted toward him at the same time. He dodged their blades and shot a web on one man's chest, then connected it to the other's. After a quick slide under their legs, he shot another web-line on one of the men's backs and connected it to the highest rooftop ledge nearby. The pair of men zipped up and slammed against the wall, dropping their weapons to the ground. Spider-Man then turned around to see at least five other men still ready to battle.
"Okay, you donʼt wanna tell me? Well fine, letʼs see how you like this, then!" Spider-Man said, sticking his fingers into a concealed compartment on his suit and retrieving a small web-bomb. He tossed the bomb at the group of men and watched as it quickly detonated, trapping them all against walls and abandoned cars. "Hey, listen. I'd love to stay here and knock you guys around some more, but I've got more pressing matters to attend to right now. The police'll be here soon, so, uh, stick around. Wait, no, that was a bad pun. Uh… y'know what? I'll roll with it. It's a classic. Anyway… uh, see ya!"
Spider-Man extended his hand into the air and shot a line of webbing out, then hoisted himself up and began to swing. This was all so insane. He hadn't the slightest idea who or what those men were, but he also hadn't any time to spare for further investigation. Captain DeWolff could call him after they were in custody, maybe she'd be able to get some more info on them. Right now, he had to make a beeline for Avengers Tower. He hoped the team would already be investigating, but only time would tell. He soared between the dark chasms of the city. As much as he wanted to help quell the fires, he needed to know just what exactly he was dealing with. After he sped through Midtown, he made it to the Upper East Side and laid eyes on the massive tower. It was strange to see it without its large, red symbol lit up on the side. Spider-Man leapt from his web and stuck to the side of the building, then scaled it until he reached the helipad at the top. He wasted no time in entering the tower. The interior was dark, as he'd anticipated, but he saw a faint bit of light emanating from one of the laboratory rooms. He pulled off his mask and walked down the hall, entering the lab and finding a familiar face inside.
"Parker," said Tony Stark, "I was wondering when you'd show up."
"Tony," Peter greeted, "I came as soon as I could. The city's a mess."
"I know. Steve's trying to help stop the riots with Clint and Nat on the West Side. The Defenders are protecting Harlem, last I heard, and the Fantastic Four are covering the Financial District. Pym is… well, I don't know and I don't care." Tony explained, then pointed toward the only working monitor in the lab. "Backup generator's almost entirely fried. I had to piece something together just to power this room. Been taking readings on whatever that blast of energy was, but I don't recognize its molecular structure."
"Wait a second…" Peter mumbled, walking to Tony's side and examining the screen. "I recognize it. It's negative energy."
"Negative energy?" Tony inquisitively echoed.
"Yeah, from the Negative Zone. I got trapped there once on a mission with the Fantastic Four. The longer we were stuck there, the more our negative thoughts were amplified until we were nearly turning on each other."
"Do you think that might have an effect on the people in the city?" Tony asked.
"I don't know, it's hard to say. I've never seen it harnessed into an EMP before." Peter admitted.
"Either way, now that I know what it is, I should be able to build something that can counteract it." Tony said. "Any idea who couldʼve set it off?"
"Not yet. I ran into half the Sinister Six before it went off. They were just distracting me from the bomb... so it could be Tombstone, but I canʼt know for sure yet."
"Tombstone? Great. If you need any help taking down Jaws, just say the word." Tony replied. "Anyway, you gonna stick around and help me out here? Might be able to build this thing faster if Iʼve got two brilliant minds working on it instead of one."
"Yeah, sure. I—" Peter began to say, then halted when a realization dawned on him. FEAST was vulnerable right now. If rioters were attacking anywhere they could across the city, there was a fair chance they would attack the shelter as well. "—can't. I just realized, I need to be somewhere. My aunt, she… she could be in some serious trouble right now."
"Alright, Pete. No need to explain. I'll be here if you can make it back." Tony assured, never once looking away from the monitor as he tapped away at the keyboard in front of him.
Peter turned around and exited the lab, sliding his mask back over his head on the way out. Hundreds of thoughts raced through his head, bombarding the tissue of his brain like a plague of locusts on a field full of fresh crops. He ran back outside and across the helipad, then leapt from the tower and dived down. The air rushed over his entire body as he free-fell toward the concrete below. At the last second, he shot out a web and began to swing towards Chinatown.
"How could I forget about May?" He asked himself aloud. "What if a riot's already broken out there? What if… what if they're inside, and they—no, no. Hold it together, Peter. Everything's fine. Everything's fine."
The swing from the Upper East Side to Chinatown felt like it took an eternity, and after awhile he finally arrived at the homeless shelter. A group of thugs clad in dark hoodies banged at the doors with crowbars, bats and other blunt instruments. The sheer sight of the situation set his blood aboil. Spider-Man released the strand of webbing he swung on and landed behind the goons. He shot out two web-lines that connected with a bat and a crowbar and yanked the weapons backwards. The bat struck the man with the crowbar's head and knocked him out cold, while the crowbar swept the man with the bat's legs and caused him to crack his head on the stone steps.
"This is pitiful." Spider-Man said. "Of all the hardware stores and electronics shops you could've hit, you lowlives choose to attack a homeless shelter? A soup kitchen, for cripes' sake. How desperate are you? Wait, hold that thought; I don't need or want to know."
"It's the bug!" One of the crooks yelled. "Let's squash 'im, boys. Then we'll bust down this door."
"Bug? How many times do I have to say arachnid before all you goons start to get the picture?" Spider-Man asked, though it was entirely rhetorical. He knew they'd never catch on.
His spider-sense went wild as one of the men pulled out a gun. He fired off three shots before Spider-Man managed to fill the pistol's barrel with webbing. The fourth shot caused the gun to explode in the man's hand, effectively rendering it useless until it received proper care. Only three men remained. Spider-Man tapped at his web-shooters and shot an electric web at one of the three, then darted forward as the other two turned their attention to their convulsing accomplice. Spider-Man balled his hand into a fist and gave the closest thug a strong punch to the head, knocking him to the concrete. He used his foot to hook the other thug's heel and tripped him. When the man fell to his back, he netted his entire body in webbing. He repeated this process on the other man, then on the man he had shocked until every thug was taken care of.
With the job finished, Spider-Man zipped to FEAST's rooftop and approached a bag of spare clothes he'd left there. In a few moments, Spider-Man changed his clothing and became Peter Parker once more. Peter quickly slipped down the side of the building and entered through FEAST's backdoor with his spare key. Those who were inside hid in the dining hall, far away from the front entrance. May was among them, and the door shutting behind Peter caught her eye. She stood up and rushed over to him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Her graying black hair was hanging loosely from her head, clearly disheveled from the chaos. May had never been one to worry over her outward appearance.
"Oh, Peter! I was so worried after the bomb went off. I tried to call you, but all the phones are dead. Are you okay? Is Kitty okay?" May asked, moving her hands up to cup his face and check for any injuries.
"I'm fine, May. Really, I'm okay. I got lucky. I was at my apartment when the bomb hit." Peter reassured her. It didnʼt do much to keep the concerned expression off of her tired face. "Kitty should be fine. She was at the Institute, last I talked to her. It didn't hit Westchester."
Suddenly, a hand touched his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. Peter turned to face whoever the hand belonged to and was met with the smiling face of Martin Li, the man who owned and ran Feast. Martinʼs brown eyes looked directly at Peter as the fluorescent lights shined off of his jet black hair. The fact that he seemed so happy to see him was touching. Peter had always felt a strong connection with the man, even seeing him as a mentor in some ways. They were both orphaned at young ages and had carved their own paths in the city, never letting adversity keep them from achieving their dreams.
"Peter," Martin greeted, "I'm glad you're safe. Did you happen to see the men outside, if they were still there?"
"I saw them. I saw Spider-Man show up too, when I slipped in through the back. I think he got them all, webbed them up too." Peter said.
After he spoke, three knocks came at the front door. The knocks were accompanied by sirens in the background, and an officer asked them to open the entrance. Martin, May and Peter all walked towards the door and unlocked it. The two officers stood on the front steps, behind them were the incapacitated thugs.
"Mister Li." One of the officers addressed. "We would've come sooner, but the city is a mess. We had no idea the situation here was so poor. With the phone lines down, we—"
"It's quite alright." Martin replied, "You're here now, and that's what matters. We have some wounded inside, if you'd be able to come in and help us."
"I can spare a few of my men and send a few more to search for some paramedics, but I can't stay myself. We saw some men trying to break into the bank near Tribeca when we drove by. Not your average thugs either. The heavy-hitters, real supervillain-types. I need to gather as many officers as I can and hope we can diffuse the situation."
"I understand completely. We'd be more than grateful to take whoever you can spare." Martin said.
Supervillains? Peter thought. That doesn't sound good. Better go check it out. Seems like everything will be fine here without me.
Peter took the opportunity to slip away during the discussion, sneaking back out the rear exit and climbing back to the roof. He switched back into his suit and swung off towards Tribeca. If he'd gone on foot or by car, the journey would have taken him far longer; but with the speed at which he could traverse the city via his webs, he arrived at the bank in a matter of mere minutes. He jumped from his web-line and stuck to the side of the bank, entering the building through an air vent. He crept along the dusty interior of the ventilation system until he was above the bank's main floor. He heard two familiar voices speaking to each other inside the bank vault. One belonged to Flint Marko, the Sandman, and the other belonged to Roderick Kingsley, the Hobgoblin.
"Now would be a very good time for a little spider-like eavesdropping." Spider-Man said to himself in a hushed tone, peering down at the two men through a vent grate.
"Gotta say, I don't think the Big Man would'a thought'a this plan if it weren't for that new buddy he's got." Said Sandman, toting several large bags of coins from the vault.
"I'm inclined to agree with you. This new alliance is mutually beneficial, and Mister… what did he call himself again?" Hobgoblin replied, punctuating himself with an inquiry.
"Hell, I don't know. I wasn't payin' much attention when we was there. But that sweet glowy suit'a his looks pretty fly."
"I don't want to hear you call anything 'fly' ever again, Marko."
"Tombstone. I knew it." Spider-Man whispered. "But who's his accomplice? Maybe a little pummeling will help Tweedledee and Tweedledumber down there remember." Without waiting a second more, Spider-Man dropped down through the grate and landed on the floor below.
"Excuse me, gentle-crooks!" Spider-Man said, announcing his presence. "If you'd like to make a withdrawal, you'll have to come back during our business hours—aaaaand when the city isnʼt in complete turmoil because of an EMP your boss set off."
"Spider-Man!" Hobgoblin barked.
"Very astute observation, Roderick!" Spider-Man shot back. "Glad to see your eyes are still in working condition."
Marko didn't say anything before throwing the first punch, and that punch came in the form of a giant fist made out of sand. Spider-Man pressed on his right-hand web-shooter and a line of webbing connected to a nearby wall. Before the massive fist could hit him, he pulled on the web and evaded the attack. As Spider-Man reoriented himself after the first attack, the sound of the Hobgoblin's glider filled the air. Hobgoblin jumped on top of his hovercraft and took to the air inside the room. He kicked at the side of the glider and a small bomb shaped like the head of a grimacing horned gargoyle popped out. Hobgoblin armed the bomb and Sandman came rushing forward in a massive cloud of dust. He resolidified to attack. Spider-Man dodged the blow, by that time the Hobgoblin's bomb was ready to detonate. Hobgoblin tossed the bomb at him, but a well-placed web-line stuck to the airborne bomb and redirected its course towards Sandman. The bomb wedged itself inside of Marko's green striped chest and went off, scattering small grains of sand all across the room.
"Marko, you idiot!" Hobgoblin shouted angrily.
"Oof, he's gonna feel that one in the morning, when he finally manages to piece himself back together. If he can physically feel anything, that is. What with the whole being made of sand, and all." Spider-Man japed as he swung up towards Hobgoblin.
Spider-Man landed on the Hobgoblin's glider and began punching his foe in the chest. Hobgoblin managed to block a few of the attacks and ultimately place a fist to Spider-Man's stomach, knocking him from the glider. While he fell, Spider-Man shot a strand of web at the bottom of the glider and yanked it down. The glider went into a nosedive until it collided with the hard floor, shattering the porcelain tiles beneath it. Hobgoblin fell with it, but managed to stagger to his feet soon after.
"You're quite the nuisance, Spider-Man." Hobgoblin grimaced, reaching into the satchel strapped around his torso.
"Why, thank you." Spider-Man said. "No, seriously. Why thank you? Being a nuisance to criminals like you is my favorite pastime."
The Hobgoblin finally retrieved what he had reached into his satchel for: a small cylindrical device no shorter than a baton. He pressed a button at the bottom and it extended into a staff that was charged with the same negative energy that had devastated the city. The villainʼs bright red eyes stared at Spider-Man intently, his pale yellow, grotesque face pulled back into a grin.
"Fancy," Spider-Man jokingly complimented, "Where'd you get that neat little toy?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." Hobgoblin said, dashing forward and swinging his staff.
His spider-sense flared before each attack. He was able to dodge the first few, but one finally connected with his shoulder and sent a shock of negative energy coursing through his body. The blow disoriented him and gave Hobgoblin just enough time to jam the staff into his abdomen. The second strike sent Spider-Man flying backwards, and Hobgoblin chuckled so loudly that it echoed through the whole room. When he finally skidded to a halt, Spider-Man rose to his feet again and sneered underneath his mask.
"Okay… that one hurt." He admitted.
"Well there's more where that came from, you little cretin." Hobgoblin promised, still smiling from beneath his orange cloak.
Spider-Man shot a line of webbing at Hobgoblin's chest and zipped toward him, fist ready to strike. He managed to connect a punch with Hobgoblin's head and dodge his retaliatory staff swing. He landed behind Hobgoblin and roundhouse kicked his head. Two successful blows to the cranium sent Hobgoblin stumbling away dazed and unable to keep his battle stance.
"I already overheard you say Tombstone's working with some new player. Hopefully those knocks to the head jogged your memory. So, who are they?" Spider-Man inquired.
"Someone… agh, someone who wants Wilson Fisk dead just as much as the Big Man does." Hobgoblin replied.
"I imagine there's a lot of people who want Fisk dead. That doesn't help me know who's behind the attack."
"Didn't give us a name. Maybe he did, but the Big Man didn't think it was important enough to tell us." Hobgoblin continued to elaborate, using the time to catch his breath.
"Well, in that case." Spider-Man said, then shot some webbing at Hobgoblin's feet that stuck him in place. When he was secured, Spider-Man zipped forward on another web-line and placed a kick on Hobgoblin's face with enough force to knock him back and render him unconscious. "There's no reason to keep this conversation going any longer than it needs to."
Police sirens began to fill the air with their shrill wails as the red and blue lights were cast across the windows. Spider-Man jumped back up to the vent grate and entered the shaft. He made his way to the roof and leapt from rooftop to rooftop until he was a safe distance away from the crime scene. There always stood a good chance that they might assume he was somehow involved in the ordeal. The last thing he needed right now was the Bugle running an article about how he had a hand in setting off the EMP. Spider-Man finally stopped running when he was a safe few blocks away and rested on an unoccupied rooftop. He leaned against a water tower's metal support and took a moment to assess what he'd learned.
"So, Tombstone's working with someone to take down Fisk." He mumbled to himself. "Makes sense. Fisk'll be vulnerable without his tower's security systems working. Who knows how Tombstone will play that to his advantage. At least he won't have his squad of supervillains to help him out now."
"Spider-Man." A sickly yet familiar voice spoke.
"Huh," Spider-Man said and whipped his head around to look the man over. He wore a hoodie to cover his face, but the closer he got the more defined his features were. The man finally removed his hood and exposed his full face and the hairless head that belonged to none other than Max Dillon. "Electro?"
"We need to talk."