Author's Notes: Thanks again, D and TheImmortalWeapon. :) Next chapter is the last chapter, FWI.
Disclaimer: Ultimate Spider-Man is not mine. Nor are any of its characters. That's Marvel's job. Any Original Characters and art you note, however, are all me. No. I'm not making money. Don't rub it in.

Chapter 29 - Edge
(part 2)

Peter charged forward alongside Power Man, on foot. Since Taser Webs would only complicate things further, he signaled the powerhouse after Collier, who he slammed into with great force. The woman recovered swiftly, unfortunately, and Kevin weakly fought Peter's aid, pushing the hero aside. That is, right before he fell on his side.

"How did you like that trick, Kevin?" Collier questioned sweetly, her demonic smile widening. "I have a little boy from Texas to thank for it. Electric eel. Of course, with such a little subject, the ability isn't quite as powerful as it could be…Guess I should be thankful you're so fatigued."

Ugh. A child? Sickening. Peter felt tempted enough to remove his mask, just so Collier could witness the full effect of his disdainful glare. But he would have to settle, he knew.

"Does it make you feel mighty to dissect children?" the red and blue hero seethed through clenched teeth. You bet your ass he made sure every word was as sharp as a butcher's knife.

But the blonde doctor retorted with a mere giggle. "Of course not; it makes me feel mighty to win. For once." Her voice dropped a fraction, an unreadable darkness glossing over her expression. "He said it couldn't be done. They said it couldn't be done. But it can."

"What can?" Peter asked this without really wanting to know. Time needed bought while he tried to sit Kevin up.

"It's not fair for chance to pick a new race; it leaves the rest of us vulnerable. So, I've been searching for a means of equality…and I found it."

"You look like a real winner," remarked Peter dryly.

Collier's expression soured as her foot stomped forward. "Don't look down on me!" she cried, shrill. "I'm tired of the men around me always looking down. Just because they're board members, or teachers, or fathers, or mutants."

Wow. She clearly harbored some deep-rooted issues.

"All those fools told me a human couldn't possibly give themselves mutant abilities. 'It's an impossible procedure filled with great risk,' they said. But I did it. Me. And the whole world will know it, too!"

"Doing something like this isn't natural," Peter countered.

"Well science is the key to all possibilities," the blonde shot back with a snort. "I require stabilizing shots, but I can troubleshoot that just fine before I make productions for the public."

"The pub"—Peter's eyes widened—"do you plan to sell mutant powers?"

Collier smiled like an escaped lunatic. Alright; now his Crazy Sense was tingling.

"Great, Peter, he's out," said Power Man. Peter lifted his attention to the powerhouse, questioning, and the larger hero pointed at the blonde that leaned against Peter's shoulder. Indeed, Kevin was out cold.

"Our days always get better and better," Peter grumbled. He shoved the mutant's body away with little thought, not really caring how hard his thick head hit the ground. Then, he stood beside Power Man. "She's on the edge," he added in an undertone. "If we give her the right push—"

"She'll grow careless."

"Exactly. You ready?"

"Gotta be. We have to take her down before she says those magic words."

The duo nodded with silent understanding then fanned out.

"So, how many powers can you pack into one body anyway?" Peter asked after he swung around Collier's side.

Her body spun to face him, bending slightly at the waist. "Would you like to find out first hand?"

"Come on; it can't possibly be that many," the leader goaded with a grin. His vision briefly noticed Power Man zoning in for a tackle, so he cart-wheeled towards the left to maintain her attention. "Look at you. Four is probably your max, right?"

Slyly, she smiled. "Wrong."

Just before Power Man's arms wrapped around Collier's body, her arms mutated into long, hairy gorilla arms. These she swung like giant sacks. They slammed violently against Power Man when she twirled. And his large form barreled into the ground, creating a crater in the steel floor that Collier giggled at.

"Elephants have highly sensitive feet that can sense vibrations," she explained through pucker lips. "An elderly woman in Maine used the power to ensure all her grandchildren stayed in the house. What a waste."

"Children and little old ladies?" No, the disgust couldn't properly be translated.

With a dark scoff, Peter aimed his Web Shooters at the blonde's smirk then shot Flash Webbing without warning. The white goo met its mark, blinding Collier for several moments while Peter swung from the ceiling at full force. His red boots, tensed straight, dug into her exposed stomach with a force that rolled her across the floor harshly. He flip-landed once her body stopped—facedown. Then, he aimed his Web Shooters again and danced around her form until she was covered in Web Fluid.

"You obviously have some problems, lady," he commented while stooping down to her exsposed head. "I've seen experiments like this go wrong so often it's not even funny. You should quit, take your loss now while you still have a sense of yourself before you end up like…"

Like Doctor Connors or Norman Osborn. That's what he wanted to say. But he closed his mouth, shaking his head.

"I haven't gotten where I am by quitting," Collier remarked coldly.

Scratch, scratch. The web cocoon bubbled in a line down the woman's back. It resembled persistent spears from her spine that were testing the integrity of the Web Fluid and with a low grunt from Collier, the protrusions shot upwards to slice through the material. Spikes. Of course.

Peter eyed their white and red striped coating, eyes lingering on the fin-like flare at their tips. 'Lionfish…so, did those grow from Collier or did she—'

"I see you want to know where these come from." Collier gave a nauseating chuckle and posed for a moment. "They were generously donated by Thera Moore. I removed them from her spine."

Did his air read utter disbelief? Because Collier seemed to notice a look even with his mask on.

"Oh, don't view me like I'm some monster," she added—not quite as lighthearted. "She's still alive. Most of my subjects are. Killing them is a waste; I must transplant parts of their body into me. Otherwise, my cells will have nothing to replicate and the powers would subside."

"You have several people's DNA lurking inside you? How do you keep your anti-bodies from purging them?"

"Simple. You create anti-bodies for the anti-bodies."

"That will only harm you long-term!"

"Why would you care anyway?"

Peter's limbs grew rigid. No, he didn't care for Collier at all. It was more like…he cared when it came to others destroying themselves with science. Science wasn't meant for that. And he had seen too much perversion of it in the past two years.

"I'm doing fine, Spider-Man. You should be more concerned for yourself. Or your friend."

Power Man. He still hadn't rejoined the fight. A slight panic settled in Peter's gut, be he wouldn't let it control him. He was collected as he headed for the crater and even more controlled as he rolled Power Man onto his back. The powerhouse groaned, raspy. A coat of sweat had formed over his dark skin, adding to the contorted look of pain on his face and the cut across his cheek that now blistered into red welts.

"Don't count on him to move anytime soon," Collier called across the room . "The transplant weakens the venom, but…it's still quite effective."

"Dammit," whispered Peter to himself. Now what?

Roar! Swish! Bang! Peter whirled suddenly and found Collier no longer standing. Two enlarged arms made of purple kept the woman suspended from the ground, their thick claws gripping tight around her arms and waist. They squeezed tighter and tighter alongside a wounded growl.

"Zeelan?" the web-slinger questioned. He could hardly believe what he saw; the dragonesque armor encasing around her looked like something from a fantasy video game. And, somehow, it felt a bit ominous.

"What have you done to Thera?" Z cried in a loud, defined accent. Collier sent a little smirk then fell when the arms grew larger and gripped tighter. "Answer me!"

But Collier didn't. Her pointed chin jutted out in defiance, which caused the white-haired mutant to sneer and toss her across the room with the ease of a baseball pitcher on steroids. A new bang clapped against the walls as Zeelan stepped forward. Her shoulders were hunched beneath her jacket, her breathing ragged. Peter neared her when he noticed an almost feral look in her wide eyes—like she was holding back from crushing Collier's skulls between the purple clawed-hands that were slowly deteriorating.

"Z"—Peter spoke with haste—"I think two of your friends are at the back of the room. We need to get Luke out as well."

"She—she cut those off of Thera," said Zeelan through quivering lips.

The red and blue hero placed a hand on her unsteady shoulder. "All the more reason you need to get her and the others out of here. Smokescreen said Collier's got—"

"Computer: activate code 'Dreamer'."

"Contingency plans."

Just perfect. Collier sauntered across the room as a feminine confirmation from the computer preceded the screams of sirens. Blood and bruises covered her body by this point. And while she attempted to brush those off like they were only a thin coat of dust, her severe expression said otherwise. She was over with this fight, obviously. And wasn't too fond of the outcome, either. From somewhere unseen, she produced a gas mask, which she placed over her head.

Now…that was worrisome.

"Oh, relax; it will only put you to sleep," she said. The mask muffled her voice, but that didn't make it any less Spidey Sense worthy.

"Uh, while my line of business doesn't grant the recommended amount of daily sleep, I think I'll pass. Z," he made eye contact with Zeelan, "can you please get everyone out of here? I'm a better distraction."

"Distractions aren't going to save you or the SHIELD vermin that are no doubt infesting my lab."

And cue the creepy gas. From the ceiling, from the floor, the white smoke seeped into the room and clouded the wailing red sirens in a thin shroud. Between that and the half-lit areas of the lab, the set for a horror movie was just about complete. All that remained was…

"You've got to be kidding me."

Peter held back a groan at mutation number five. A mix. As if the past mutations weren't interesting enough.

Collier's stationary body expanded into a muscular hunch. Peter couldn't tell if her face morphed as well, only that her arms lengthened until their meaty knuckles touched the ground and fine, black hair sprouted across her body until her elephant feet. Over those hairs, feathers sprouted—golden like Kai's. They created angled wings along the gorilla arms, though they didn't look capable of flight like Falcon's mechanical wings.

Not that she would need that advantage with the rise of Lionfish spikes protruding a good arm's length behind her and the leathery hind over her naked, grayed skin. As if there couldn't possibly be more, petite, mouse ears peaked from between the blonde's hair. There may have been another feature he missed, but he couldn't take in anymore.

'Just how many people's DNA is in her?'

"Peter." Zeelan's voice sounded horrified and repugnant. It drew Peter's gaze to her before he glanced around them.

"Oh, force-field. Good idea, Z." The hero gave a nervous chuckle as well as a thumbs-up. He had been so distracted with Collier that he forgot about the gas completely. He hadn't even noticed the semi-transparent film of purple ahead.

Z sighed. "I was going to suggest you web the gas distributors, but since you didn't answer, we're stuck in here."

"You did? Sorry; I didn't hear you."

"Oh, obviously. So what do we do now? With the gas this thick—"

"Uh, hold that thought, Z"—Peter pointed forward—"I think you should brace instead!"

A sudden slam met Zeelan's force-field before she faced Collier. The multi-mutated blonde gripped the sides of the bubble with her large hands, lifting it from the ground with surprising speed. Z stumbled forward until her face met their new floor. Peter, meanwhile, discovered you can't stick to the sides of a force-field very well and joined her—except he landed on his feet. Just in time for Collier to chuck the force-field aside.

The two were jerked violently against one side. Force kept them flush there and force slapped them to the other side when they hit a wall. A burning sensation ran up Peter's nose. Then, a thick warmth dribbled from his nostril over his lips. He had no time to lift his mask and wipe the blood away, however. His butt hit the bubble when it lifted again. With a weak laugh, Collier tossed the duo—this time, deep into the floor.

"P—Peter," Z said, breathless once standing. "I—I can't keep this up."

In the white gas Collier's muscular form loomed tall against a flickering display of lights. Her winged-gorilla arms raised high then barreled down like a game of Whack-A-Mole. She hit the purple barrier over and over, occasionally pausing to shoot feathers like arrows from her forearms. And the force-field shuddered every time.

"I used a lot of energy fighting Ghost," the white-haired mutant continued with her hands outreached.

Bam! Collier's large fist cracked the bubble. It left a faint sliver of bright light that tightened Peter's chest.

"Without a way to push the gas out…" The crack splintered more. "We're going to lose…No, I think that sounds like a terrible idea."

"Uh…" Peter blinked in spite of himself. "What's a terrible idea?"

"Oh, hogwash; you don't even know if that'll work."

"I didn't suggest anything…"

Z's body seized as the splintering reached the bubble's sides. "Wait, he is?"

"Who is what?"

Before any kind of answer could be given, another shudder wracked the force-field like an earthquake. Peter fell onto his back with a startled squawk and peered up at Collier's gas mask. Dread dried his throat. His mind raced with ideas. None of which stuck. He was left numb as the strange woman drew her arm for another attack—one that would break the force-field completely. The fist descended, grew bigger in Peter's wide stare.

Then, it halted mere inches from the bubble.

Collier cried out in a voice that sounded more animalistic than human. A screech. A roar. A bray. All that and more. Louder than the sirens, the voice caused Peter to clap his hands over his ears. Collier stumbled back in disorientation, as if she had forgotten where she was. Parts of her body began to contort painfully. Her head twisted like an owl and her arms wouldn't cooperate enough to stop it.

The sight was sour enough to make one sick, for sure. Peter had a hard time keeping bile down, but surprise helped keep it at bay when a sudden burst of electricity engulfed Collier.

At first, Peter thought a backlash from her electric eel abilities was the cause. Then, he noticed a body attached to her back like parasite. Kevin. Strangely, he wore a gas mask—this Peter could see over the doctor's protrusive shoulder—and, no, he didn't let up from the shock for an instant. The deafening sounds of crackling, Collier's pain, and the sirens blended together with Kevin's continuous growl.

"Kevin, you'll kill her!" Peter called without really knowing it.

Kevin paid him no heed, though. He knew he would. That was his plan, wasn't it? One knee at a time, Collier dropped. She wheezed and with a spurt of energy her gorilla arms found his leg. She grasped that, tossing him sideways in anger before stumbling around.

"C—c—computer"—her voice hadn't regained its normalcy—"activate—"

"I don't think that will be necessary, Miss Collier," a new voiced added.

My gosh, Peter never had been so relieved to hear Fury's voice before. Ever. He turned towards the room's entrance many yards away. Still, the Director's trademark trench-coat could be spotted easily. He, too, donned a gas mask, like the agent behind him. Coulson, probably. The two stopped a safe distance from Collier and only then did Peter realize the gas wasn't as dense as before.

"I don't believe we've met," Fury added in a light tease.

"Doesn't mean I don't know who you are," Collier countered.

"You are quite known, Sir," said the agent. Yup, Coulson.

Fury snorted. "We've procured your control room and have almost evacuated every prisoner in this lab. All that remains is your arrest."

Silent, Collier glanced Fury's way then studied Peter and Zeelan inside the barely-stable force-field. It seemed parts of her reasoning had returned, only her head began to shake and she stomped her elephant feet like a toddler.

"No!" she screamed. "I won't be taken, especially by the likes of men!"

Without missing a beat the blonde headed towards the room's backside. Peter's eyes widened as he stood up, pressing himself against Z's bubble as if he could make it move. It did, but only because the mutant followed his lead. The duo dashed in the prisoner's direction, fully aware of the gunshots on their flanks. They reached the shadowed end in several long seconds, it felt. The prisoners were still strapped into their restraints. But Collier? She was nowhere in sight…

"How did she?" Peter glanced left and right, looking for any kind of hole or lever.

"Dammit!" The harsh clicks of Fury's boots stopped behind them.

"So, she still had more tricks up her sleeve, huh?" Coulson clicked his tongue and approached the wall. He laid a free hand on it as if expecting a bite then sighed in frustration.

"Says…'nother power," Zeelan added breathlessly.

Peter felt her sway at his side and twisted her way. "Z?"

She didn't answer. Her dark eyes were half-lidded with fatigue, her stance unsteady as her force-field flickered out of existence. The adrenaline must've worn off. He could understand that. When her weight fell onto him, he lacked the strength to keep her upright. They fell backwards, sliding against the redhead's prison until unceremoniously seated.

A subtle prickle slowly eased from the hero's chest to his limbs and a slight burn in his lungs roused a cough. Really, he couldn't be sure if the battle or the lingering gas was to blame for the sudden spell of drowsiness that lolled his head back. The vague image of Fury bending down registered as nothing more than chunky shapes in the teen's dry eyes. The Director pulled something out from his coat. A gas mask?

Peter sent it a lazy look. "Does this…come with the SHIELD starter pack?"

The Director offered a half-hearted chuckle as he removed Peter's hero mask and replaced it with the gas mask. "SHIELD's always prepared, kid."

That's the last he heard before his memory grew foggy.