You know, all things considered, this place was actually pretty calming. Though, I had a feeling most people, read: 'normal people', wouldn't really agree with me.
I clung to a web, it shined like crystal, the spaces between showing various locations and people throughout possibly time and space. My eyes didn't linger on the views before me, instead they were transfixed to the other entity that clung to the cosmic mass of webbing all round me.
I couldn't make out its size, it could be as big as a continent or behemothic as a planet. But I saw it, and it saw me. As small as I was in comparison, it still paid me mind.
The spider, shining bright in its pure white form, looked to me, its many eyes, kaleidoscopic in the way the colors of them changed, all focused on me.
I felt like I knew it, like I could trust it. A smarter part of me took this with a grain of salt.
Totem, the burden, the curse, placed upon you is not one that I wanted-
The Throne and its ilk shall condemn you as if you were prey-
But you are not, you are of me, you are not prey-
Things are not as they should be, more than you will realize-
Totem, you will want to fight, defend, I expect this-
And I shall not change that-
That is who you are-
So as Alaya blights you as a master of its army of the dead-
I shall bless you, as did before, with the other who survived the tumult raised-
The spiders, their sizes all varying, crawled up the web and towards me. The lizard part of my mind said I should run, but something else told me it was okay.
Totem, I shall grant you the venom to strike your foes-
The first wave came upon me.
Totem, I shall grant the anonymity to confuse them-
They sank their fangs into my skin.
Do not forget as I do when I remember what has occurred-
More came, and I let it happen.
You have a responsibility to this world of imbalance-
I felt no pain as they bit me.
Remember to dread the coming of the Grand Devourer, The First Darkness-
I was completely engulfed by the arachnid horde.
For he will forsake all with the chaos he shall wreak-
I felt whatever poison they were giving me, entered my veins.
Do not let Alaya's corpses weaken you-
Let them know your name-
Let them know, you are the predator-
Let them know, you are the spider-
The light that had overtaken Peter Parker, ceased, and the young man was in for a bumpy landing.
Wind rushing past him for mere seconds, he hit the ground hard, leaving barely a crater in his wake. "Ow." He muttered. Bright side...my headaches gone. Small miracles and all that.
"Yay…" He stirred from the ashened ground, having landed on what could have been, used to have been, a serene park at one point.
He cracked his neck and gave himself a hard stretch and cracked his limbs/back. The dress shirt had been dirtied by the fall, Peter couldn't care less as the world before his eyes gave him pause.
Skyscrapers toppled, the ground split asunder, ascended and descended like the Earth's crust overlapping each other. A furious inferno burned throughout, like the fire had become the city's very veins.
And around Peter, were the petrified and blackened forms of stone that (he hoped to God he wasn't right), used to be people. Stuck in their final moments like he was standing in the aftermath of Pompeii.
There was no danger to be found around him, but the sights, the sounds of the fire and the corrupt smell of it all made the brunette choke. God...what the hell...what the hell happened?
First he was in a collapsing building, ready to face the fact that he'd probably be discovered as Spider-Man post mortem, now he was in the middle of an apocalyptic hellscape.
The sickening calm of the chaos disgusted him, and he wondered. Where the hell were the Avengers? Where the hell was Cap? Iron Man? Where the hell is anybody? He clenched his fists. Where...where was anyone?
Everybody couldn't be just dead-Right? A city like this couldn't just be decimated to this degree without any sign of life. That was...actually really possible!
He shook the thought away, trying to grip himself "There has to be survivors, right Mash?" It hit him like a freight train. His eyes scoured the area and he found no one. That cute girl with lilac eyes and lavender hair that covered one side, was gone.
Gone. Bloodied, but smiling at him when he knew that this would be their final moments. She knew too, she had thanked him, the poor girl had thanked him. He was alive, by some sick cosmic joke, and-
"I...I had her in my hands...I felt her in them…." He had made sure to hold her tight so she wouldn't fall into the fire. It had been all for not it seems. He had lost another one, another person under his watch, under his protection. Just like Jean...
He choked up, his knees buckled and he fell to them. Feeling the course ground scrape his knees through his black trousers.
The fire still raged without care for his plight. The smell of corruption still waived throughout the air without thought to his downtrodden hope.
This was hell, wasn't it? Had to be, fire everywhere, darkness and death at every corner. All I needed now was a guy in red to come strolling up to me and poke me with something long and sharp….that's not funny Parker, this isn't funny!
This, all of this, was way out of his league. He had gone against tough odds in the past and had got through it with a quip or five.
He had made it through Kassady's massacre and he had seen the pit of victims he had tallied up, he had seen the bodies. What he did to them, I looked into their eyes when I knew I shouldn't have-And I still made it out okay. "But I had Matt with me...I wasn't alone..." now, now he truly was.
He, of course, was used to being alone. Had to be when you weren't part of team like the FF or Avengers
He was used to facing stuff that might make a child have nightmares and cry for their parents, he never really had that option. An image of a man-become-reptile flashed in his head. But whatever fear he still had for Connor's and his ravenous transformation fell to the wayside.
The level of devastation around him, he wasn't prepared for that. And he couldn't think of anything to really say.
He just... he just wanted everything to go back to normal.
Maybe this was payback for something he did, maybe this was penance for all the lies he had kept over the years since he was bitten.
Maybe this was for giving that sheltered girl some false hope that he couldn't deliver. And she... she was so happy about it too...
The rage boiled "Dammit," He cursed under his breath, his nails digging into the skin of his palms, the electricity within, starting to build. "Dammit!" The electricity went up to his forearms, ripping the white sleeves of the mystic code, "DAMMIT!" He cried, raising his arms fast, he brought them down with the same level of rage. His fists hit the ground, and the current of static went outwards.
He blinked, wrathful tears streaming "What the…" He looked at his palms, the remnants of the energy popping in his hands before going away completely. "...I couldn't do that before!" He switched the back of his hands, trying in vain to figure why that had happened.
His left was completely devoid of static, the right was as well, but it wasn't like the left.
On the back of his right were three symbols, lined up horizontally almost, ...in the shape of a spider...he mouthed out in a questioning curse.
He held this marked hand of his with his other. His breath stuttered and he didn't know what to do. What the hell happened to me in that blast? He asked himself, before his spider-sense came to him bearing a message.
The denizens of this burned city had noticed his outburst. And they weren't exactly there to be sympathetic ears.
From the alleys, from the wreckage and from the fire itself like a James Cameron fever dream, they came out to greet the one who disturbed them.
No flesh on their bones and the tattered remains of what used to be clothes, they shambled wordlessly armed with swords, bows and clubs, passing the terrified statues without thought of their horrifying significance.
They surrounded him, brandishing their weapons and making their way over to him like they were a pack of wolves, and he was a rabbit caught in their trap.
He consolidated his rage, This is the last thing I need right now. The temper that had nearly killed a man a year ago squashed his urge to lay down and take it. I'm not going out like this. This he swore, he'd go down swinging before he let someone or something take him out.
He prided himself on being that tenacious, and so he did what had become a vocation of his. He fought like a man, and like a spider.
Shooting out his right arm like a man possessed, he triggered the web shooter, tagging one of the skeletons and pulled it over to him, he took it by the skull and slammed it to the ground, shattering it and leaving a hole in the dirt.
The body was in mid-dematerialization as Peter kicked off with his heels and went for another skull to crack.
With a combination of kicks, dodges, leaps, bounds and old-fashioned fisticuffs, the teenage vigilante made quick work of the skeleton crew. An outsider's perspective would have almost thought there was more than one person taking on the living dead by how fast he went
He webbed one skeleton and spun it about, taking down three more of the boneheads before the skull-now-mace dematerialized and the strand used was let go by Peter and blown into one of the fires that infested the area.
He caught an arrow and snapped it in his hands with a satisfying *clack,
He ran at the archer, let himself go to the ground and slid through its leg leaving a trail of darkened dust and dirt in his wake. He got to his knees and decked it straight in the spine, cracking it to pieces as it shot into the air and fell down like black snow.
The entire encounter had taken a minute, his boney foes reactions being basic and without higher thought to them.
Meanwhile, Peter was all instinct, letting the strategic side of his mind give him some pointers on how to effectively take out each of them as quickly as possible. All while managing to avoid the stone victims.
When it was over, Peter stood over the final ghastly enemy and watched it as it dematerialized into a puff of darkness.
He palmed his forehead, his heart beating. He had worked up a sweat it seams, and he found that he was finally thinking straight. Or thinking better anyway-the guilt and horror of the previous few minutes still hung over him like the shadow of chaos.
He looked back to the symbol on his right hand, not understanding its meaning entirely but knowing, somehow, that it meant there was something more to all this besides him being late to a big superhero battle.
I've only been in one of those and I didn't really interact with the A-listers like Stark and the Wasp, but the point still stands… He allowed himself to think clearly and take note of a few details he wasn't able to comprehend amidst his episode.
I didn't see Mash's body. So maybe whatever brought me here (if this isn't hell, 'cause that's still on the table), just separated us and she's somewhere in the city.
Last time he saw her, she was badly injured, bleeding from a pool from what he recalled. Which means I'm running against the clock!
He'd figure out what the symbol was and why he conducted electricity later, what mattered now was saving Mash and getting her to a doctor. Then he'd contact anyone who would answer so he could find out what in the ever-loving heck had damned this city.
He found himself left with one question, where do I start looking? He had no idea where he was. The architecture and layout of the city was very much foreign to him judging by the way the buildings were spaced and the style of them. I'm definitely not in Manhattan, that's all he could come up with.
Nevertheless, the best way to find out where he was, was to put his best foot forward, And by foot I mean we-
It shot at him at breakneck pace, and if he were a normal person, the silver chain may have got the drop on him. Luckily, he wasn't.
A quickstep and a roll as another chain shot at, slicing the shoulder of his mystic code, Pete was on all fours looking forward as the chain latched on to the ground and debris, and as his new attacker came strutting out from the shadow of a building some twenty yards away. He could see her piercing yellow irises shining from where he was.
Peter stood tall, his muscles ready for another round of it as the chains began slinking away back to their owner and becoming one with her absurdly long hair.
As she drew closer, he noted a darkened hood, her hair, violet, the outfit she wore leaving some to the imagination. And the ample woman wielded a scythe with a silver blade and gave him a sadistic smile before she stopped a yard away from him, standing between a group of charred people that were little better than statues now.
"Not bad, most humans, even mages can't even manage to avoid my chains." She mocked praise, twisting her scythe around nonchalantly.
She was bad news, his spider-sense, telling him the obvious. "Thanks, I live to impress so…" He exchanged a cartridge of webfluid quickly, letting the empty round fall to the ground. He had only four in reserve now. "...do I have you to thank for the city's renovation plan?" He joked, though his tone was grave.
She laughed with her lips closed, swinging her scythes out and cleaving a statue in half. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm living my life, little master~~" She licked, "And when I return to my garden, I find someone playing in it without my permission." She brought her arms under her bosoms and wiggled her index at Peter. "Naughty naughty~~" she warned with a killer's smile.
Peter took another look at the statues around him. Did she do this? What is she, Medusa? He kept the thought to himself, "And here I thought you were going for a sexy grim reaper gimmick, you know with the hood and scythe-" She sent another chain at him, Peter leaped, landed, and took the chain into his lands he was a sailor. "-but a gardener? That's the lamest schtick I've ever heard for a supervillain!" The chain began to return to her, but Peter clung himself to the ground. "-And I've fought Stilt-Man!" Crap that pull of hers is strong, he thought as his heels dug into the dirt of the park.
"Ooh-Little master, you're going to be a fun statue~~" She slurred sultriously,
Peter felt the chain beginning to give slack, and his spider-sense already warned him about what was coming.
By her chains, she vaulted her way to him, her scythe raised and ready to slash, "If I don't kill you first!"
She's fast, got it! Peter let go of the chain and met her head on, she brought the scythe down and he caught it by its pole. This left them deadlocked against each other, and the young vigilante had this to say, "You wouldn't be the first, lady!" He freed one of his hands from the struggle, and webbed her face.
"Gah!" She reels "What is this?!"
"It's webbing, duh." Taking this moment of weakness, Peter grabs the pole, picks himself off the ground with a huff and his two legs kicks her in the stomach. The brunette lands back on the ground, scythes in hand while hood-lady is sent sprawling backwards and into one of her statues.
Oh god! an instant regret came over him as it broke with her impact. He bites tightens his eyes and steels himself. They...they were already gone Pete, he looks to the scythe in his hand and with much gusto he aims and tosses it into the closest pit of fire. Let's just avoid smashing more statues in the future, okay?
Hood-lady didn't look worse for wear, patting the dust off her person. "That was unexpected, little master…."
Why does she keep calling me that? Pete puts up his dukes, ready for another round of it.
"Before I kill you, I liked to know the name of my victim~~"
"I'm just your friendly-neighborhood Spi-*cough*-Peter, Peter Parker!" He knew protecting his secret identity was basically down the drain at the moment. More so with the feats he had shown. But the optimist in him said this would be a good idea at the moment. Much to his cynic's chagrin. "And what's your supervillain name? Lemme guess, Lady Hairchain? The Hood-nah that's already taken? Ooh ooh I know-" He dodged another chain, noting a blade at the end of it. "-sheesh everyone's a crit-" He limbos, a bladed chain going for his face that time.
"I am the Lancer of White...or the only lancer, now anyway~~" She licks her lips again and readies herself to pounce, "Die little master~~!"
Down by the waterfront, and on the remains of a bridge that had been blown in half, the Caster of Black had fallen. His creations mettle had been equal to his opponents.
He cried, he screamed, he cursed the name of the man who had slayed him as he returned to the Throne.
There, alone amongst the fire and flame stood what this war had designated The Caster of White, Ireland's Child Of Light, Cu Chulainn watched the scene with a smirk, his that of battle lusting maniac, or it would have been if his class was different. If I had my damn spear! It still irked him that he was summoned here without Gae Bolg, he was known for being a lancer, it was his whole thing.
Sure, being a caster had its perks, like healing himself and whatnot, but battles didn't feel the same without that extra edge of being up close and personal with an enemy, smelling the sweat, the blood and being so close to death with a single wrong step.
But he was a caster, and that meant standing a good yard away and sending whatever projectile spell (runes in his case) you knew and hoping they do something worth a damn. I mean, it kills them-but that's beside the point!
He didn't hate being in this class, he knew how to use it effectively and was comfortable enough with it. He sort of had to be, he wouldn't even have been summoned like this unless he knew what the hell he was doing.
As proven by his systemic take down of the eighteen of the original twenty-one servants (if he didn't count Avenger, Goldie, the two Rulers and that extra Caster, since they had disappeared when everything went to shit) that had been summoned for fifth holy grail war. It had taken a lot of time, and a lot of patience. Striking them when they were alone, burning them to a crisp with a mixture of other runes and then refueling his supply of mana at the closest leyline (since the priest was dead, couldn't get anything from him).
He had only three more targets and this war would end, and maybe this inferno that had overtaken the city and blackened the other servants would be cleansed. It went against nature, this corruption, and he knew it. And despite who he held fealty to during the war, he wasn't exactly keen only letting it run rampant like his corrupted cohorts were.
It had been long, it had been argued, but the Caster of White had to hand it to himself. He could cast with the best of them. That'll show that damn flowery-bastard! He grinned, his druidic blue robes blowing in the wind as his unkempt locks of azure followed suit, he felt a change in the air and he knew what it was.
A fight was happening somewhere in Fuyuki, one of the surviving servants had found someone to fight. Which is odd, considering the only thing around are corpses and skeletons and they don't exactly pick a fight with the blackened.
Guess someone with enough guts survived! He smirked, raising a brow. He clutched his wooden staff with much vigor. "Hell yeah!"
Hit with the front of a shield, a skeleton hit the ground, the impact destroying its hold from in this world.
"Fou!" The little fluff ball cried, catching the scent again and running through the streets of the city as a girl with lilac eyes and lavender hair followed suit with a singular goal in her mind.
She would have to get used to this, this would have to be normal, for her senpai's sake, for her master's sake! She held on this as she batted another skeleton to the ground, Mash Kyrielight hearing the sound of conflict get closer as she ran.
Least I'm getting some cardio in! Pete had been on the offensive since the second the fight was restarted, without her overgrown pirate hook on a stick, Lancer, as hood-lady had called herself, had been mainly attacking with her chains.
He had gotten some good licks in when he found a moment to strike between the barrage of blades, least he thought he had. Lancer didn't look the least bit damaged, there weren't even any bruises as far as he could see and he could see pretty well.
He was behind her about ten feet away, Alright, maybe one of her superpowers-besides the hair being made of tougher stuff, He found a moment and thwipped into her back, she hit the ground with him standing on top of her.
He was about to unload webbing on her to keep her still, spider-sense flare and he back-flipped off of her as she sent the chains upwards at him. Let's see if I can at least get on her nerves.
He landed on all fours like a predator about to pounce before calling out, "I could make so many hair jokes right now! You know that right?"
She was up again and returned the kindness he had shown by sending another barrage of chains.
"Xie Qiuping called! She wants her hair back!" Sidestep, the chains turned a statue to dust.
"Talk about bad hair days-am I right?" Front slip, the chains cratered the ground like a hail of gunfire.
"What conditioner do you use? I'm so jealous!" Backflip,
"I haven't seen that much hair since the dog-and-pony show!" Front roll,
"Thought folks with long hair were all about peace and love!" Serpentine, more statues fell as if they were lined up at a gun range.
Lancer snarled, "DO YOU EVER SHUT UP!?" More chains came flying.
"Not really, kinda my thing if you can't te-" A wall of chains with points at the end of them were coming at him like a tsunami. I think I pissed her off.
He threw his hands back and shot web, he sailed back but not before a few of the blades had made their mark.
He hadn't been stabbed, but the cuts were deep, ripping the white dress shirt of his mystic code. "GRAH!" He hit the wall of the park's bathroom and hit it badly. He reeled to his front, the air having been knocked out of his chest. Spider-sense...where were you on that one?!
"I wanted to make you bleed a little bit before I turned you to stone, you know, play with my new little toy~~~" She removed her hood and let her mass of hair become a wall of not chained blades, but of ophidious heads
"...am I...supposed to take that as…,a compliment?" he asked between breaths.
"But frankly, you're annoying, despite that cute face of yours~~"
I have a girlfriend, thank you. He wanted to say that out loud, but the danger he could put MJ through by doing that, outweighed his quippish nature.
He got himself to his feet as the fear of death kicked in, his form almost leaving view. And the rage of being defeated before he could find Mash and get her out of this hell, made his palms spark.
As he took a step, she sent her maelstrom of snakes upon him. His spider-sense told him it was happening and he was mentally prepared to block it with his arms so he could work through the pain and push his way forward and coldcock her.
Fate had other plans-
"Are you unharmed, senpai?" he knew that voice,
And he was struck with a mixture of sadness, joy and confusion at who stood in front of him.
She looked over shoulder and gave a relieved smile to Pete that made him blush. "Mash?" he asked wordlessly, thanking everyone from Yahweh to The Sentry.
The shield, had a shape vaguely similar to a cross, held strong as it blocked the barrage of serpents. "Or, I guess I should use your proper title, are you unharmed, Master?"
"Just my pride….what-what are you wearing?" He asked dumbly, the barrage of snakes stopping for a moment as Lancer returned them to her person as the violet locks they once were.
"Another servant? Wielding a shield?! Where the hell did you come!?" Lancer hissed.
Mash brought the shield down "Chaldea.", she stood defiantly in her black and purple armor that Peter admittedly noticed kind of emphasized a few key portions of her body. Much to his young embarrassment.
I wear tights everyday, so I'm not one to talk. He thought, ….why did she just call me master? His head went down the gutter for a second, before Mash looked back down at him with a stoic and determined candor.
"Your orders, Master? You and I shall best her together."
Peter got beside her. He didn't understand what had happened to this cute lavender head, but wasn't exactly complaining. If she could fight with a shield as good Cap could, he may have gained an edge against lancer. "Nothing big, let's just take 'Medusa' over there-"
Lancer became frigid for second,
"-to the cleaners." He balled his fists.
"Servant, Mash Kyrielight, commencing operation."
They both ran at Lancer, said foe, overcoming her moment of shock to rain the serpent heads on the teens.
First, let her lead and take the blunt of the attack with the shield. Peter got behind Mash as she led the charge, blocking the subsequent attacks with her shield. When close enough- Now, I jump, and flipped his way to the other side of Lancer. He webbed Lancer's back, when she was in range, spin kicked her to Mash.
Mash batted her back, stunning Lancer as Peter came at her with a flurry of punches, he stepped back and let Mash bash her, sending her flying across the park.
She was heading straight for a statue, Peter thwipped and pulled her back with some oomph. "BATTER UP!"
"Roger." Mash nodded as Peter threw Lancer down onto the shield with a gratifying THUNK.
Lancer growled, sliding off the shield and falling to the ground.
Acting faster then she could get up, the young vigilante leaped high and webbed her to the ground she laid upon. Making sure only her face was visible, as he emptied the rounds of fluid. Cool, now we can get some answers.
Pete clapped his hands in victory, "Thanks for the save Mash or whatever you're going by-"
Mash, the shield raised, was about to bring it down on the defenseless Lancer. It looked like a killing blow. He didn't ask a question, he didn't think, he acted.
He shot at Mash, took her by the waist and the two slid across the ground. "Senpai?!"
Peter straddled her. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
"I-I'm finishing the fight, Master." She flustered.
"By hitting her while she's down?" He was shocked, but it was always the quiet ones.
"Senpai!?" she squirmed.
"She's out, restrained, donezo, you don't need to bash her brains in!"
"She's a servant, senpai!" she tried to explain.
The term meant nothing to him, his palms sparking as anger overcame him, "She's our only lead on what the hell happened-we're not judge, jury, and executioner!" Spider-sense flared, and Lancer's chains ripped the webbing to shreds. Should have used more layers. The fight wasn't as over as it had seemed.
"Should have let her finish me off little master~~" She bared her teeth viciously, "Now I won't let you two get the drop on m-" She thusly, was swallowed by an inferno.
The flame burned clean and pure as Lancer howled in dismay as her form glowed gold and she burned her way out of existence.
Lancer looked over her shoulder, seeing her attacker, "CASTER?! YOU'RE NOT HU-" More fire was added and it grew large as Lancer was finally returned from whence she came.
The flame would have been delightful under a clear night's sky, Dammit, Peter wracked his head, he had lost a lead and a life, a living breathing life, that sure, had tried to kill him. But she deserved a trial, jail, not burning alive like she's Joan of Arc!
He got off of Mash and up to face whatever was about to come. "I got this!"
Mash followed suit, getting in front of Peter, "Get behind me Master."
Peter then got in front of her. "Nah I'm good, you take five!" Don't need you adding to the body count!
And Mash got in front of him, "Please Master, don't be difficult." She asked honestly
The fire ceased and a blue robed, hair like a rocker, man, wielding a, for a lack of a better word, wizard's staff, came to meet them with a critical smirk.
"So, another master who doesn't want to finish off servants-talk about deja vu?"