Author's Note: All properties are the rights of their respective owners, Marvel, Respawn Entertainment, etc.
Howdy folks, it's been a while, hasn't it? Yes, this story has had a long, and painful, gestation period. Mainly because I've had to get and play through the game, scream cathartically into a beach towel, and pass some professional licensing exams. But I've done all that and have gotten to work on it and here is the first installment of it. Thanks to those who helped bring it together, primarily TheCarlosInferno for putting up with my batshit ideas and V-rcingetorix for doing a better job of teaching me the English language than the American public education system ever did.
So for those who don't know, this story is a sequel to my earlier story 'Power Without Question' that was a crossover with Titanfall and the first Spider-Man released by Insomniac for the PS4 back in 2018. This story will center on the events of Spider-Man 2 released in 2023 for the PS5, but we have quite a while before we get there, so without further ado, here we go...
Authority Without Asking - Chapter 1: Alive
Back to the start again
Back where I ought've been
Feels like the tide is turnin'
Back again
No sign of settlin'
Just like there's never been
Sounds like the record's broken
It's been up and down but I know I'm fine
I'll take my time
I'm alive
With an audible buzz, the door to Parker Industries unlocked to reveal an interior less grandiose than its title might indicate. But to the owner and namesake of the small tech company, it was something of which to be proud. Shucking off his heavy winter coat and tossing it haphazardly over a stool, the unassuming looking 26-year old rushed through the cluttered shop. With a bagel nestled between his teeth while he pulled on his ruffled white lab coat and ran his hand over the wall, the owner flicked the light switch. The harsh fluorescent lighting revealed the haphazard array of equipment cluttering the space, ranging from cutting edge Stark Industries rapid prototyping printers to a cobbled together workstation for soldering.
Every square inch of table space throughout the whole shop was taken up by a clutter of cobbled together prototypes or rough sketches for new gadgets and gizmos. A stack of mismatched notebooks contained yet more sketches of ideas, a sloppy tally of business accounts, and notes of meetings, contacts, and more that most would describe as indecipherable scribblings. Moving through the shop, past a rack that held a bizarre harness fitted with two 15-foot long, claw capped mechanical arms that hung limply, one on either side, the lone figure fumbled with the key he pulled from a pocket and opened the door into the adjacent office.
This space fared little better than the main workshop, with a top of the line desktop computer and three different, mismatched monitors centered on the desk that took up an entire wall. However, most of this space was taken up by a rack of various, brightly colored suits, one of which lay half assembled on a table, alongside a smattering of tools and a crust filled pizza box from a mom-and-pop joint up the street. Eying the suit with a hint of discontent before throwing back the last of his coffee and tossing the empty cup into the overflowing trash can.
A ringing caused the man to take the half-chewed bagel from his mouth while answering his worn phone and pressing it to his ear. "Hellow," he mumbled through the remnants of his breakfast that were stubbornly lodged around his molars.
"Good morning, Tiger, how was your breakfast?" teased the feminine voice coming through the phone.
Taking care to swallow through his smile, Peter Parker replied to the only person who called him 'Tiger.' "Good MJ, really uh… filling," he bumbled, his attention going back to the desk and suit draped across it while his mind pondered the gremlins he had failed to eliminate from its innards the day before. "What about you, how're things at the Bugle? We haven't seen much of each other over the last few days," he mused sadly.
"Sorry Pete, work's been busy, and I've had to put in extra time to make sure everything won't fall apart while we take our trip," she answered. It was an answer he had expected, and it wasn't as if he had an abundance of availability either, between his tinkering at the workshop, helping at F.E.A.S.T. or wearing one of the suits in the office, it had been a busy holiday season. "Speaking of, you are packed, right?"
Wincing, the Queens Native pinned the phone between his ear and shoulder to better continue finishing what he'd started the prior night. "No, not yet. But I'll get it done before we go MJ, I promise," he said with honest sincerity. "By the way, when do we leave again?"
The sigh coming through the line was enough to make Peter's heart drop into his stomach. "Tomorrow, Tiger," informed Mary Jane bluntly.
"Tomorrow!" exclaimed Peter, eyes widening. "But that means today is…" he began, spinning around to look at the calendar on his desk, one date in particular circled, and a quick check of his phone confirmed that was indeed today. A low groan emanated from Peter before he spoke again, "Really sorry MJ, but I gotta go… take care of some 'special' business. I promise I'll pack tonight, and I'll cook dinner, 'kay? Love you."
There was a low, mirthful chuckle from the redheaded woman on the other end, "Love you, too, and go get 'em Tiger."
After the call ended with a beep, Peter tossed the phone aside and quickly began the well-practiced process of changing into the form fitting, red and blue suit, the chest and back adorned with large, white spider symbols. With the suit over some underwear to help ward off the winter chill in the New York December air, Peter scooped up its matching mask and pulled it on. Looking through the white, bug-eyed lenses, Peter made his way out the back door of Paker Industries. Opening the door, he raised a hand and made a familiar motion, curling his middle and ring fingers back to press the button at the base of his palm, triggering the device strapped to his wrist and peeking through a slit in his suit, through which it fired a line of synthetic white silk of Peter's own creation. Once the sticky white web line had found purchase on a neighboring building, Peter leapt forwards, and swung into action as Spider-Man.
Scrolling through the feed on his phone, a seventeen-year old student paid only mild attention to the sight out the window of the subway train, focused more on the beats coming through his headphones. Feeling the subtle deceleration of the train through his feet, Miles Morales looked up to see the familiar surroundings of his home station in Harlem while the train came to a stop. When the doors opened, Miles joined the handful of departing passengers when he felt his phone buzz and looked down to see the text notification across the top of the screen.
It was his mother, Rio Morales, from whom Miles got his last name and love of Latin cooking and music both. 'I'm stuck at campaign HQ. Can you pick up groceries for dinner? I'll text a list' it said, the perfect spelling and punctuation telling of her time as a schoolteacher.
Miles fired off a quick reply, 'Sure thing ma'. Starting up the stairs to the streets above, the Horizon Academy student could feel the cold air despite the sun that shone above the city.
'Thank you!' answered his mother as another of his favorite R tracks came on his headphones. Basking in joy of being on Christmas break as he strolled down the snow covered sidewalk, Miles made sure to check the traffic coming down the street before crossing it, heading towards the campaign stand touting his mother's candidacy, but not before pausing to help a man load a sofa into a waiting box truck. Lifting with his knees, Miles made sure to act as if he was exerting effort as he muscled the furniture up and into the vehicle, giving the man a wave as he continued on his way without being so much as being stressed.
His life had changed dramatically the year before, the city had fallen into the chaos of three successive calamities within a month. Combined, the supervillains, domestic terrorists, and invading interstellar armies had claimed hundreds of lives, including that of NYPD Officer Jefferson Davis, Miles' father. It was not long after the bombing by Martin Li's 'Inner Demons' group had killed Davis that Miles had found out he'd gained the same sort of strange powers as New York City's Webslinger: Spider-Man.
After a year of training under the veteran Wall Crawler, Miles was still eager, and had a bit of extra bounce in his step at the prospect of working with his idol again. He was expecting word to come from Peter at any moment, but until it came, the teenager allowed himself to be distracted by a rather impressive sight. "That is so cool," he murmured aloud, pulling his headphones down as he approached a massive two story tall mural painted on the side of an apartment building depicting the city's two most famous, or some might say infamous, masked heroes.
Spider-Man's red mask, complete with big white bug eyes and black webbing, struck a balance between friendly and intimidating; the same could not be said about the other figure. A fully encasing, hard shelled olive drab helmet, complete with integrated breather over the mouth, glowing blue x-shaped visor, and white stripe over the top, with bloody mouthed skull emblem, complete with eyepatch, radiated the menace associated with the Marauder.
Overcoming his awe, Miles trotted up to the pair working on the finishing touches to the work, clambering around a paint spattered scaffolding and passed up a can of paint to the man working on the details. "Hey, thanks," said the man with a grateful nod as he set the paint down.
"No problem," was the quick reply. Miles turned towards the girl helping him, Hailey, he thought her name was, another student of Horizon Academy, and gave her his best smile, and she replied with a shy wave. "Hey, uh," he began, getting the man's attention, "You think you're gonna add that new Spider-Man, too?" he asked, trying not to sound too eager.
"The kid?" asked the old painter, and Miles gave a quick nod. After a moment, the older man shrugged noncommittally, "Maybe. I dunno, he's just like, an apprentice you know? Not up to hero status yet. These two? They just mean something to people, y'know? They've been there and done that. The other one's just a kid."
Miles internally winced but tried not to look too hurt. "Yeah, I know," he conceded. Stopping a few small-time crimes and going on a handful of patrols wasn't what he'd hoped for when he'd learned that the unassuming looking Peter Parker was actually the Webhead Miles had idolized for years. After the shock had worn off, and a bit of hero worship, which he hadn't quite shaken, Miles had managed to convince Peter to train him. While he appreciated all the lessons, and hung on his mentor's every word, a growing part of Miles wanted to see what he could really do.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Miles continued his walk towards the brightly advertised 'Teo's Bodega' sitting on the next street corner, his phone buzzing with his mother's texted shopping list before it buzzed again. Peering down at the screen, he saw a pair of messages from Pete. 'Convoy's leaving early. Shake a leg.'
Without hesitation, he turned and tore off towards a secluded alley, reaching for the mask stuffed in a coat pocket. Once out of sight, the teen pulled the head covering on and pulled back the sleeves of his coat to reveal the webshooters on his wrists. Triggering the gifted gadget, the webline that came out allowed Morales to pull himself up and along the wall, leaping across and onto the opposite wall, his new abilities allowing him to stick fast alongside a familiar window. Coaxing the glass open, the teen slipped through, thankful that his mom wasn't home as he hurriedly stripped off his heavy coat and pants, throwing on a set of athletic clothes and light windbreaker, happily sacrificing warmth for agility in case there really was a fight to come.
Slipping the Bluetooth earpiece into his ear under the mask, Miles dialed his mother, figuring it best she know that he would be late for dinner. Despite having to have been busy, the candidate picked up after the first ring, while Miles was just starting to climb out the window. "Miles, que ta? Did you get my shopping list?"
"Hey mom," he greeted, praying she didn't guess why his voice was half an octave higher. "Yeah, but the bodega was out of coconut milk," he lied, wincing beneath his mask as he climbed up to the building's roof. "Gonna check a store downtown."
"Oh, thank you!" his mother answered, genuine enough to cause the young hero to feel a pang of guilt. "But avoid Midtown," she cautioned, Miles' guilt returning as he fired a webline and swung in that very direction, "That prison convoy is making traffic a nightmare."
"Oh yeah, good call," he replied quickly, "See you at dinner, Ma!" said the teenager before pressing the earpiece through the fabric of the mask, ending the call. "Man," he mused aloud while swinging high above the traffic below, "How does Pete do this secret identity thing? Completely stresses me out."
Throwing himself off a line at the apex of his swing, the teenager deftly retrieved his phone and dial another number, "C'mon Pete, pick up, pick up," he chanted with each passing ring. When there was a click, Miles began without hesitation, "Hey Pete, got your message, I'm heading your way! Did I miss the convoy?"
"Not yet - they're still securing a couple inmates," replied the veteran vigilante.
Miles let out a sigh of relief before firing out another line and swinging with newfound purpose to not miss out on the action. "Bet it feels good, seeing the guys who escaped last year going back into the R.A.F.T.."
"Real good," confirmed Pete, "The Raft's an eyesore, but it is secure. As long as the octopus related problems have been fixed…."
Miles grimaced at the memories of that, how Doc Ock… or rather Doctor Otto Octavius, had staged a breakout of the inmates in the supermax prison, including the supervillains held there. He'd recruited five to his side to form a 'Sinister Six' and gone on a rampage through Manhattan, releasing an Oscorp developed bioweapon that had killed hundreds, before they were all defeated by Spider-Man. Miles had worked at FEAST during the outbreak, and it had been hard watching the sick and the dying that filled the shelter during the crisis.
Pushing those thoughts aside lest he slam into a water tower, Miles said, "Let's hope. Ok – closin' in on you, be there soon!" Drawing near the Colexico building, the agreed upon meetup spot, Miles could feel his pulse pick up, and not from the exertion of webswinging halfway across Manhattan. "OK, be cool, be cool," he told himself, hoping he could believe his own words as his feet hit the side of the building and Miles sprinted straight up it. "Helping Spider-Man protect a giant prison convoy, you can handle this! Breathe in, breathe out. Be cool!"
Perched atop the antenna of the Colexico building, Spider-Man surveyed the swarm of flashing red and blue lights below while he raised the coffee cup to his lips and downed the scalding brew. A half-dozen heavily armored prisoner transport trucks were assembled below, arriving from different prisons around the state, and even some in neighboring states, but there were three times as many police cruisers arrayed around the trucks, and the situation, while tense, was peaceful.
The convoy would have to proceed to the edge of the bay so the trucks could board barges and tugged out to the RAFT, which was how all but one of the escaped inmates would be returned. It was this singular, special escapee that hadn't arrived yet. Not that Peter minded the delay as he enjoyed the warm coffee, and he didn't want Miles to miss out on this, if only for the kid's own sake.
Besides, it's not like this would be more than a milk run, Peter was here mostly to placate his own anxiety, and get some closure after last year's debacle, and the loss of his Aunty May.
His improved hearing picked up something, and he turned his head just as the antenna he was on vibrated from the impact of someone landing on it. "Pete?" called out his protégé, "You here?"
"Just downin' some rocket fuel," replied the Webslinger as he fired a webline at his feet and leaned forwards, descending inverted while taking care to keep his beverage upright. Now eye to eye with Miles, Peter brought the steaming cup to his lips.
"How are you… drinking?" wondered the bewildered teenager.
Chuckling as he finished the last of the drink, Peter grinned, "Very very carefully. Ok!" he declared, spying an ominous black shape in the sky coming towards them, a big container suspended beneath the craft's belly. Tossing the cup into a dumpster left on the roof, Spider-Man pulled his mask back up over his chin and told his protégé, "Comms on. Go time!"
His mask's earpiece, already tuned to the radio frequency being used by the police for this special operation, picked up the call from the incoming heavy lift helicopter. "Helix 2 en route with heavy payload," informed the pilot as the twin engine chopper passed beneath them.
In one fluid motion, Spider-Man let go of his line, flipping around to plant his feet on the metal upon which Miles was perched before launching himself over the edge of the roof, firing a line towards the next skyscraper and swinging through the air. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw Miles fall in behind him, his swinging having gotten much better over the last few months. It was clear that the teenager had been practicing, and the Webhead made a mental note to make sure it hadn't been affecting his grades in school.
"Copy Helix 2, we have you on scope," replied the police dispatcher as the two superpowered crime fighters swung alongside the chopper.
"This is… a big operation," observed Miles over the communication channel Peter had set up for them.
Peter swung easily, keeping his head on the swivel despite the sixth sense he had that alerted him to any impending danger. "It's gotta be, hundreds of felons escaped from the Raft last year. It's long time we put 'em back." The whole convoy was taking about as straight a route as possible, and the whole street was lined with police cars watching the corridor. "Police aren't taking any chances, especially with our guest of honor."
Peter looked back at the container; all Mary Jane's sources would tell her was that it was a 'VIP' of some sort. "One of those guys who helped Doc Ock is in there?" asked Miles.
"Think so," affirmed Peter, "Could be Vulture, could be Scorpion…." Spider-Man felt a slight hum he felt at the base of his skull and he saw the container buck harder, a feeling at who exactly was inside that suspended container. "Could be… someone bigger."
The container began to sway beneath the helicopter, the craft stuttering as it fought against its payload. Spidey sense buzzing with increasing intensity, Spider-Man saw one of the wire ropes securing the container's corner snap, one of the rope's steel wires flapped in the breeze while the container listed precariously. "Ok, we got a problem," admitted the Webhead as his mind raced to come up with a plan. Knowing the situation could very easily get worse, the veteran superhero said, "Hold back Miles, let me ta…."
"I got this Pete, don't worry," cut off the teenager before he threw himself at the container.
Spider-Man's eyes widened behind his mask, "Miles, no!" he shouted, firing his own webline to follow.
"You got this Miles," the teenager told himself just before he collided with the container, clinging on with his sticky fingers and feet while he fired a long burst of webbing at the frayed cable, shoring it up with a healthy amount of synthetic silk, enough to keep the cable together. Smiling behind his mask, the teenager gave his mentor a thumbs up, the senior superhero coming closer, "It's secure!"
The container he was in rocked again, and Miles clung on for dear life, feet flailing over the street far below as the metal box began to swing. Immediately, the teenager realized his mistake; between the thrashing of the prisoner inside and his added mass, it was enough to harm the delicate balance of the suspended container, causing the swinging to only intensify. Letting go of the thick plate and falling clear, the teenager then fired another webline to swing away, only for the silk to stick to the container as it swung back over his head.
Caught in the momentum, Miles was tossed around like a pendulum, the increased distance from the now teetering twin-rotor helicopter serving to make his swings even wilder. Twisting and flailing about his webline, Miles didn't realize he'd been flung up over the top of the helicopter until he felt a tug on his line and looked up to see that it had been ensnared by the spinning rotor of the helicopter.
Which was rapidly pulling Miles towards it.
Something slammed into the teenager's side with enough force that he let go of the webline and was driven well clear of the now smoking craft. Miles watched it limp along, more smoke billowing out of its left engine as it tried to stay aloft against the still bucking container as he was slammed into the wall of a building and held there by his mentor. "Miles, you okay?" asked Spider-Man.
The teenager nodded frantically, pointing back at the now burning helicopter and its underslung cargo, two anchors having failed completely, the container hanging perilously. Completely off-kilter, the helicopter heeled over and clipped a building, shattering the good engine's rotor on the brick and sending the chopper spinning towards the street.
Frozen in horror, Miles only watched as Spider-Man launched himself off the building and arced gracefully through the air, back arched as he contorted to bring his webshooters to bear, unleashing long streams of webbing at the spinning helicopter and attaching them to the building he landed on. But, for as strong as Spider-Man's webbing was, it failed to support the bulk of the heavy chopper and it crashed into the ground, ploughing through the convoy as it came to a stop in the middle of the street.
Finally coming to his senses, Miles dropped down to the street, hoping that this was the only calamity that would happen today.
Landing in the street, Spider-Man surveyed the scene around the crashed craft. Police cars had come to a stop, and officers were out to form a perimeter around the halted convoy as radio chatter filled his ear. "Helix 2 is down! No casualties. Payload compromised!"
"Response team dispatched. Ambulances and additional officers," responded the NYPD controller. "Sit tight, Helix 2."
"Pe… Spider-Man," called Miles as he landed behind the Webslinger, still breathing heavily, "I'm sorry man, I didn't mean to…."
"It's okay, we got this," assured Spider-Man, cutting off his protégé's apology. "Just need to keep everything contained until…."
His sixth sense gave him enough warning to turn around and see the battered container that the crashed chopper had been carrying lurch, the sound of a hard impact reverberating through the thick metal. The Webhead took a step back, knees bent as the container bucked again, the metal bulging to contain whoever was inside. Another bash left the end plate partially ajar before one final effort by the trapped villain sent the reinforced steel panel tumbling past the pair of heroes.
From within the dark confines of the metal box, a hulking figure stomped forwards and emerged into the daylight before standing to his full height. Towering over Spider-Man, the 7-foot 5-inch tall, 750 pound armored behemoth known as the Rhino let out a rumbling chuckle, two inch think armored plates grafted to his massive frame shifting as he rolled his shoulders and the massive sharpened horn mounted on the snout of his helmet shined with brash menace. "Hello, tiny Spider," greeted the Russian accented voice of Aleksei Sytsevich, "I see you made friend for me to play with."
With a roar, he turned and slammed his encased hands into his ruined prison, shattering the cuffs and leaving his hands free before turning back to face the two superpowered crime-fighters. "Hey!" called Spider-Man, taking a step forward and standing tall, his chest puffed out, "Pick on someone closer to your own size!"
The Rhino did not take kindly to the friendly barb, snarling as he lowered his head and shoulders, he charged right at the Wallcrawler. In a superhuman display, the red and blue clad hero launched himself skywards and flipped around as the Rhino charged right by where he'd been standing, firing a webline and pulling himself to the big Russian as he bowled through a prisoner truck, toppling the massive vehicle onto its side.
Rodeoing the raging Rhino, Spider-Man steered the supervillain away from a pair of stopped police cruisers and up the street with all his enhanced strength. Looking back, the Webslinger saw orange jumpsuit-clad felons clamber out of the overturned truck before the rampaging Rhino carried him out of view. Grunting as he tugged on the weblines in his hands, the Wallcrawler said, "I've got Rhino. You have to contain the escapees."
Heart racing, Miles balled his hands as he tried to remember all the lessons, sparring sessions, and handful of muggers he had beaten in his few months under Spider-Mans tutelage. Morales wasn't one to shrink from a challenge however, so he gamely answered with as confident a reply as he could manage. "Contain, I'm on it."
When the first convict emerged, Miles extended a hand and fired a webline, jumping up and giving the white silk a hard yank so that he drove himself, feet first, into the man's chest. While the felon was sent tumbling back, Miles backflipped away and rolled towards a second man, coming up with an uppercut into the man's stomach that sent him up. Miles leapt after him, hitting him with a right and then a left, before pulling a knee to his chest and kicking the flailing felon onto the overturned prison truck.
Coming back to the street, Miles saw that one of the prisoners, still in his cuffs, had charged at the driver of the truck and was upon him, restrained fists coming down on his head. The teenager took a step towards him only for the sixth sense to tug at him, urging him to duck down right as a brick was swung over his head by a felon standing beside him. Twisting like he was on the dance floor, Miles swung his leg around to take out the man's knees before spinning into a handstand and launching himself skywards. Looking up at the ground below, Miles fired a pair of weblines and spun around, driving his feet down into the felon's back.
Before he could even stand up, he felt something pulling him to the right, and rolled away as gunshots rang out. When the young hero spun around, one of the inmates was standing over a downed cop, a smoking gun in his hands. Miles let loose a burst of web blasts from the gadgets on his wrists until the gunman was bound in a cocoon of silk and stumbled back into the truck, where he was stuck fast to the metal.
Looking around, Miles saw three more escapees making a run for it as uniformed officers swarmed the scene; he jumped up and fired a webline at a streetlamp, swinging off in pursuit. Arcing around the overturned truck, Miles vaulted over a police car and fired a webline at the trailing felon's foot, tripping the man up as the crime-fighter rolled through the air and fired another line overhead to make another long swing over the heads of the fleeing criminals.
Letting go of the line of silk, Miles flipped around to face the felons as he landed, regaining his balance as the pair of criminals skidded to a stop. "Who the hell are you?" asked one as the two looked at each other.
Shrugging and putting up his fists, Miles answered with, "I'm… uh, yeah, I'm Spider-Man."
"No you're not," retorted the other man, "Spider-Man put me away. C'mon, we can take this punk," he said to his compatriot. Bending his knees, Miles, ducked away from the lead criminal and went at the second, feinting with his right hand before following through with his left, ramming his fist into the man's gut. When the escapee doubled over, Miles grabbed two handfuls of his orange jumpsuit and hurled him at the first man, both tumbling to the ground where Miles emptied the rest of the cartridges in the webshooters onto them, keeping them held to the snow covered cement.
"Spider-Man, I…" began the teenager when he felt his sixth sense urging him left, and he quickly sidestepped the charging criminal he had hit with a webline earlier.
The felon, complete with a tattoo of a tear on his face, rounded on Miles with another punch that the enhanced human ducked. "Miles, what was that? I lost you!" replied Spider-Man as the teenager was put on the backfoot. Flipping away, Miles brought his hands up and pressed the buttons on his palms, only for the empty gadgets to hiss back at him. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," answered Miles as he saw the big man's fists coming at him and ducked, "All fine here. How are you?"
"Been… better," answered the Webhead through ground teeth and a racket in the background. "Is the situation under control?"
"Almost," answered Miles as he backflipped away from the man and noticed that he was framed perfectly between two parked cars. Firing a webline at each one and pulling tight, the teen lifted his feet and was launched forward by the tension in the silk, slamming into the big criminal with as much momentum as he could generate with his lean frame. It was enough to knock the bigger man off balance however, and Miles jumped up and came down with a cross that sent the man spinning. Before he could recover, Miles slipped a fresh web cartridge from his jacket pocket and shoved it into his webshooter before loosing a long burst at the man's legs until he lost his balance and fell over. When he rolled onto his back and reached down to try and rip away the synthetic white silk, Miles fired two more squirts of web to restrain his hands with more than just the cuffs around his wrists. "All secure here now," said Miles, seeing cops run his way and fire a webline to pull himself up off the street as the escaped inmates were swiftly rounded up. "Where are you? Do you need help?"
Peering over the Rhino's bobbing head, Peter winced at the banner he saw suspended from the gate ahead of them. "He's headed for the Winter Bash!" called the Wallcrawler as the rampaging villain smashed through the decorations at the park entrance. Despite his best efforts, Spider-Man couldn't stop the stampeding Sytsevich, but he could direct him-sort of.
It was all the Webhead could do to steer him away from the gathered crowds, pulling hard on the weblines serving as improvised reins. Barreling through the catering tables, snacks and drinks flying in every direction covered Rhino and his passenger on their way through towards a row of shrubs that were swiftly trampled underfoot. Crouching down behind the villains armored bulk, Spider-Man braced as Rhino rammed through a row of empty wooden pavilions, splinters filled the air before Rhino reached the top of a small rise and leapt over the filled ice rink, coming down on the far side and lowering his head, skewering the wrought iron fence with his horn and launching it aside.
Now back out on the road, Rhino was amongst the traffic that had been diverted around the convoy route, rushing down the center line as Spider-Man kept a tight hold on the webs. As he leaned into another turn, his earpiece came back to life. "Spider-Man, I'm headed your way," informed Miles, "You still in the park?"
"Not anymore. We're back on the streets, headed for… hey, where you taking us, Aleksei?" he asked chipperly. With a grunt, the 700 pound armored behemoth leapt up with surprising grace, crashing into the corner of a building standing tall over an intersection and using the structure to change direction, launching himself up this new road. After getting the wind knocked out of him, the Webslinger looked up with widened eye lenses and said, "We're headed for the mall!"
"Hold on tight, Tiny Spider," taunted the Rhino before he jumped up into a building, crashing through the wall before using the second floor as a stepping stone to leap higher still and breaking through the wall of the parking garage. Rhino showed no signs of stopping, charging through parked cars on his way towards the sliding glass doors leading into the mall proper.
Weathering the shattering glass, Spider-Man wove the villain through the display boards and fleeing civilians, with the thunderous footfalls of the charging Rhino impossible to not hear. Rhino paid the Webhead no mind, throwing himself off the upper floor and crashing through an art display and down into the midst of a main corridor, where he thundered past the storefronts. Coming up to a massive atrium, the Wallcrawler felt his spidey-sense ring furiously before the Rhino leapt at the gap, with Spider-Man relinquishing his grip and firing a webline at the ceiling, swinging around the stylized 'O' chandelier that Rhino used to vault himself across the chasm, and when the villain landed, Spider-Man fired a webline to pull himself back to the Rhino's back once again.
Pulling hard to the left to get the villain away from the glass storefronts and civilians running for shelter in them, the Wallcrawler's sticky feet found purchase on Rhino's armored back. "Say, Rhino, you have any non-destructive hobbies?" asked Spider-Man while he coaxed the Russian away from a glass cased China display.
"Fly fishing on the Volga," answered the Rhino through clenched teeth as he charged onwards.
Before the Webslinger could answer, he spied a mother pushing a pram that had slipped, and she wouldn't be able to get clear of the stampeding supervillain. Firing a webline at the ground, Spider-Man zipped forward, sliding across the tile and firing another blast of webbing at a nearby store front. As he passed the pram, the webbing wrapped around it while he snatched up the woman with his free arm and swung his momentum around to bring them both to the wall and out of harms way before Aleksei bull rushed past them.
Firing another line at the ceiling, Spider-Man shot towards Rhino, flipping around and driving his feet into the armored man's back, throwing him off the edge as he tried to turn. In mid-air, the more agile Webhead had the edge, swinging his fists in powerful punches that dazed the brute before planting his feet on his chestplate and firing a webline at the floor below and driving the two down with his enhanced strength. The impact was powerful enough to cleave through the tile and concrete before they landed on the ground floor. Dazed by the teeth chattering impact, Spider-Man was unable to dodge the steel-clad backhand that struck his chest, knocking him aside like a bug as Rhino got back on his feet and resumed his charge.
"We didn't finish our conversation, Aleksei!" shouted the Webhead as he took off after the Rhino, quickly catching up with superhuman speed before Rhino bulldozed the massive Christmas tree, toppling the monument to the holiday in Spidey's path, causing the hero to jump up and webswing over it before landing on Rhino's back once again. "I was going to say that that seems nice. Why don't you go and do that instead?" suggested the Wallcrawler over the thunderclap footfalls of the criminal, "I hear there's fish in the ponds at Central Park."
Rhino tried, unsuccessfully, to shake off his rider before answering, "Last six Christmases, I was behind thirty feet of steel! I will enjoy this one!" he declared. Without another word, Sytsevich charged through the empty barriers forming the queue to meet Santa Claus before leaping up atop the Winter Wonderland Castle, with Spider-Man only able to hang on for the ride.
"HE'S A MENACE!" shouted J. Jonah Jameson, the exclamation muffled somewhat by the faux white beard fastened around his chin. Pacing about the temporary studio for his Award-Wining Just the Facts Podcast's Christmas Special, and damn anyone who called the season anything other than Christmas, the former Editor In Chief of the Daily Bugle struggled to convey what was right on the tip of his tongue… the Truth!
"Ehh… too soft," muttered the podcaster as he tried feebly to scratch his chin through his festive beard. "He's a… LOW ENERGY Menace!" he bellowed, but that wasn't quite right, was it? The chipper, quipping sonofagun never seemed to want for pep. "Maybe that he's a WEAK MINDED…" he started before the floor beneath him began to vibrate and he heard a thunderclap outside. Turning to the source, Jameson's mind realized that was the wall facing the inside of the mall right before it burst open.
Planted to his spot, mouth agape, the host recognized the hulking form of the Rhino, head down and horn in front, barreling through his set, and riding on his back like some cavalier bronco breaker was the red and blue clad menace himself. "Very festive triple J!" he shouted as he steered the felon through his studio, wreaking it in what was no doubt a deliberate attempt to force him off the air.
Completing the destruction, Rhino smashed the exterior wall, dust and debris flying as the two criminals fled the scene of their crime, with J. Jonah Jameson's words chasing after them. "MENACE! A FECKLESS, TREACHEROUS, UNHINGED MENACE!"
"Where are you, Pete?" wondered Miles within the confines of his mask. He had circled the mall, the hole in the parking garage too massive to miss, but he hadn't found any further sign of his mentor nor his quarry. Having completed most of a circuit of the mall, the teenage hero was trying to muster the courage to go into the mall when his earpiece began to ring.
Tapping it to answer the phone call, Morales was greeted by an earful from his mother. "Hijo, donde estás? It's getting late."
Wincing at her reprimand, Miles was about to answer when the wall ahead of him exploded, a grey blur flying out and crashing into the building across the street before descending to ground level. "Woah!" exclaimed the Horizon Academy student as he dove down and fired another line, making a big swing to pick up speed before realizing what had happened. "Hey mom," he greeted sheepishly, "Hey, Mom, sorry about that, just some crazy taxi driver, don't worry. I'm still on the coconut milk, trying to find it." Below, the Rhino tossed a parked car aside and crushed a mailbox underfoot without slowing down. Miles had to push himself to keep up with the villain. "Been kinda… an adventure."
"Are you… running?" asked his mother as Miles zipped to a streetlamp and flipped, launching himself off it with his hands and jerkily going back to his webswings.
"Yeah, uh…" he stammered, focused on matching Rhino's turn more than his excuse. Seeing a flash of movement to his right gave him an idea, "Trying to catch a train."
"Mira mijo, no seas mentiroso. Grab the milk and hurry home, please," she chastised hurriedly.
Relieved that he wouldn't be grilled further, Miles answered with a heartfelt, "Si ma, te quiero mucho," giving her his love before she hung up, no doubt busy at her campaign office.
Her voice was replaced by a no less urgent one, "Miles, we gotta stop Rhino, now!" urged Spider-Man. It was clear why the veteran superhero was anxious when Miles looked ahead and saw Rhino was bearing down on a Roxxon industrial site. From his perspective above the villain, Miles saw Peter fire two big webs out to either side, trying to anchor Rhino to the buildings. But the armored behemoth, legs and arms pumping, was only slowed by the thick white silk.
Miles saw an opportunity, and now able to finally get out in front of the rampaging Rhino, he swung right, firing a thick blast of webbing at the corner of the building before swinging left, letting the silk play out until he was nearly across the street. Digging in his heels and holding tight, the teenager braced for the inevitable impact.
Nothing could prepare him for the power Rhino had. Screaming in pain, Miles held tight to the web barrier as Rhino's horn cleaved through it, but the rest of his bulk failed to pass. The teen's arms burned with the feeling they would be ripped from their sockets, but Miles ground his teeth and endured the pain, able to see his mentor try to attach more anchors.
Their efforts were in vain, there was no stopping the furious freight train on legs, and Miles' feet gave before his arms did and the teen wailed as he was flung around by the webs to which he still clung. Flipping head over heels, Miles nonetheless saw that his mentor had been grabbed by the Rhino and flung in the opposite direction before the villain let out a bellowing roar and charged through the brick wall and into the industrial park. Compelled to turn around, Miles flailed right into a smokestack and slapped his hands onto the freezing metal, arresting his fall. Catching his breath, the teenager could only watch as Rhino tore through the brick walls of one of the buildings, fire bursting out the hole as the villain rampaged around inside. Looking up, Miles could see the nearby buildings dim as the lights flickered out, casting an eerie gloom over the industrial site that was only alleviated by the fires burning from the wrecked structure.
"Oh no, no, no no, this is bad, real freakin' bad," stammered Miles as he watched the havoc unfold below him. He frantically sought any sign of his mentor in the chaos, "Hey Pete, where are you man?"
To the teen's relief, the veteran vigilante answered quicky, "I'm okay, I got him, need to…" he began before a terrible racket echoed through the industrial park, audible even through the radio. Swinging his head around, Miles watched Rhino burst through the wall, Spider-Man being dragged along behind the Russian like a water skier. Without warning, Rhino slid to a stop and turned around, snatching up the Webslinger with a big, armored hand.
Letting out a roar, Rhino slammed Spider-Man into the snow covered asphalt and moved with surprising swiftness to bring his steel encased foot down and pin the Wallcrawler. "No," breathed Miles before he extended his arms and fired a webline on either side of the felon and shot down at terminal velocity. The teenager felt the urge to spin away, but ignored it and bore down on the villain only for a grey plated hand to come up and snatch the teenager out of midair.
Miles' eyes snapped wide with a start as he realized his predicament and tried to wriggle his way out of the Rhino's crushing grip, but his efforts were in vain. "Struggle all you want, Tiny Spider," sneered the villain, "I will crush you."
"Hey Rhino," rasped Spider-Man, "Pick on someone your own size!" Miles watched in amazement as the battered Wallcrawler summoned some reserve of strength, pressed his hands to the bottom of Rhino's foot, and pushed it up off his chest. A startled yelp escaped the teen as Rhino was toppled by the superhuman effort, crashing into the asphalt and cratering the parking lot.
Miles struggled uselessly, and could only watch as Rhino booted Spider-Man away into the busted brick wall. "No!" he bellowed as he brought a balled fist down on the man's plated hide, pain shooting up his arm, but that didn't deter the teenager from punching again, putting every ounce of his superhuman strength into the blow, but all he was rewarded with was the feeling of bloody knuckles.
The Rhino chuckled menacingly, "Is that best baby spider can do?" taunted the felon as Miles reared back and punched again, only this time his fist felt all… static-y.
In his single minded focus, the young hero didn't notice the faint orange bolts flickering along his arm, not until he drove his fist home. The lightning in his veins was channeled through his fist and right into Rhino's armor. Letting out a roar of pain, Rhino relinquished his grip on Miles, who quickly scrambled away and looked down at his twitching arm, orange lighting still crackling around the limb. "Wha… what was that?" wondered Miles as his eyes shifted from his bleeding hands to the recovering Rhino. "How did I even do that? Electrolytes? Some kind of field induction?" he asked, but the Russian only shook his head in response.
"Can you do it again?" asked Spider-Man as Rhino pushed himself back up onto his feet and glared at the younger hero.
Miles looked down at his arm and slowly curled his fingers back into a fist, "Yeah, yeah I think so."
When the Rhino charged, Miles held his ground and could only watch as the villain lumbered towards him, the ground shaking with each step. Digging in his own feet, Miles saw a red and blue blur streak in, sliding across the ground from behind Rhino before Spider-Man fired a webline out and tripped up the felon. When Miles body began to move of its own accord, the teenager went with it, jumping up and flipping over before coming down on the back of Rhino's head, arm cocked back and surging with bioelectricity.
Before he could catch his breath, Miles jumped clear, tumbling across the ground as he saw Rhino stagger up only for Spider-Man to hurl an empty dumpster at the behemoth and send him tumbling back through a chain link fence. Now bouncing on the balls of his feet, Miles felt the adrenaline start to run through his veins, terror replaced by growing confidence. "You know Rhino," called out Miles, "Chasing you through this city, kinda felt like a wild… goose chase."
"Wild… goose? No… NO NO NO! I HATE chase of goose!" howled the Russian as he made one final charge at the pair. Miles, without hesitation, ducked down like a sprinter before leaping forwards and bringing his electrically enhanced fist up into the plated chest of the Rhino before firing a webline and dashing away. Spider-Man then fired a line at Rhino and bore in, Miles watching in amazement at his mentor's fluid motions, throwing powerful punches and devastating kicks with grace and ease, each one leaving the 700 pound Rhino reeling. Feeling the tickle in his arms, Miles sprinted back into the fray, jumping up onto a crate and throwing himself skywards before coming down on the Rhino's back and unleashing a pair of his own supercharged blows.
Rhino howled, his whole body wracked by muscle spasms as Miles fought to maintain his balance from his position on the felons back. "Get clear!" shouted Spider-Man as he jumped up alongside Miles and raised his arms to take aim with his webshooters, "Time to bring down the house!"
Not bothering to question the Webhead, Miles swung away and clung to a nearby smokestack to watch Spider-Man fire his webs at the brick wall of the factory and pull with all his might. For a moment, the wall held firm, but in its damaged state, could not resist the strength of Spider-Man and collapsed, raining tons of brick and mortar down as Spider-Man web zipped clear and left Rhino to be buried by the rubble.
Dropping from his perch, Miles watched the pile of bricks for any sign of movement, but Rhino didn't stir, only the tip of his horn protruding from the masonry. Taking deep breaths, the teenager relaxed, only to realize his hands were still trembling from the fight. "Good work, Miles," complemented his mentor, the battered and bruised Spider-Man said, his costume slashed and soiled by the brawl, causing Miles to realize he probably didn't look all that much better. "Now to call the Police and…."
The deep rumble of a diesel engine caused both masked men to look up at the gate as an enormous armored tractor trailer trundled in, the name 'Roxxon' emblazoned across its gunmetal grey exterior. At the rear of the trailer, a heavy door lowered to allow a group of men in heavy red armor to emerge, each with a square muzzled energy weapon at his shoulder and at the ready. Miles felt his fists curl instinctively, bruised knuckles aching, when a black luxury SUV with equally black windows glided in and came to a stop.
Spider-Man took a step towards the executive vehicle as the back door opened to reveal a middle aged Caucasian man with slicked back blonde hair. Exiting the car and standing at well over six feet, the man wrapped a scar around his neck and surveyed the scene before turning to face the masked vigilantes and, to Miles' surprise, offering them a smile. "Guy, wow, just…" he said, turning to gesture towards the buried Rhino, "Just wow."
Taking note of the younger man trailing a few respectful steps behind the blonde, one of the lenses on Miles' mask widened as he scrutinized the man shaking the Wallcrawler's hand, realizing he wasn't an average suit. "Simon Kreiger," he introduced, "Head of R at Roxxon Energy. Pleasure to meet you."
"You too," replied the Webslinger, though Miles could hear the apprehension in his mentor's tone. "Uh, sorry – think our ball landed in your yard."
"No, you actually did us a favor," replied Kreiger with a dismissive wave, his smile widening. "We uh, just bought the place actually, we we're planning to tear it down for a build." Miles noted that the armored men were gathered around the fallen Russian Rhino but couldn't tell what they were doing, and his curiosity was swiftly drawn back to Kreiger. "But, it looks like you two beat us to it. I wanted to thank you…" he said, patting Miles shoulder and offering his hand. The teen eyed it for a second before giving it a perfunctory shake that didn't faze the man in the slightest. "Both of you. That was some good work, taking down the Rhino."
"He's still dangerous," cautioned Spider-Man.
"Less so now, thanks to you," retorted Simon smoothly, his shiny smile not fading, "We'll hold him for the police." The assistant that had remained a few steps away approached, an offered phone in his hand. Kreiger turned and took it before looking at the vigilantes one last time, "You know, I always thought those super troopers were overkill until… well, something like this happens. Gotta go now, duty calls! Really great to meet you both. Future's looking bright," spoke the head of R before pressing the phone to his ear and striding off.
Miles watched him go until he felt a gentle shake of his shoulder. "Let's clear out, let the police do their jobs," intoned Spider-Man, and the pair fired weblines to swing into the oncoming night.
Once they were up out of earshot, Miles came to a sudden realization. "I still need coconut milk."
With a steaming hot double pepperoni in hand and another box balanced atop it, Spider-Man swung down onto a snow covered rooftop where Miles was sitting alongside a grocery bag. The Webhead could see the teenager looking down at his arm as orange lighting arced along it. "Bio-electricity, wow. Gotta admit, I'm pretty jealous," admitted the veteran hero as he set the pie down between them and pulled off his mask.
Miles pulled his mask up with one hand while Peter opened the pizza box, both taking a slice and downing the much-needed food. "Hey, look, I got nothing on the OG," assured Miles between bites of the Leo's pie. "Hey, uh, you think we can run some tests tomorrow?" he asked, the optimism in the teenager's tone caused Peter to wince. "A little voltage analysis?"
"Ohh… man. Yeah, sorry, I've been meaning to tell you: I'm not going to be around for the next few weeks," admitted the Wallcrawler.
When he looked at his protégé, the Queens native saw Miles staring blankly at him. "Is that some kind of Pete joke I don't get?" asked the teenager through a mouthful of pizza.
Smiling nervously, Peter shook his head, "No, MJ's headed overseas for the Bugle and requested me as her photographer." When his girlfriend told him that she was planning to travel again, he had almost started an argument, only for her to reveal that he would be going with her. The Webslinger wasn't keen on leaving his city, but with this convoy today going… kinda to plan, at least the part where all the prisoners got back in the newly repaired RAFT, there was nothing in the foreseeable future that would require the presence of Spider-Man. "Kind of a working vacation for us, and a chance to see Matt and Felicia."
It had been nearly nine months since he had last seen the couple, and he was anticipating and dreading meeting them in equal measure.
Not letting that show, Peter listened to Miles as the Afro-Puerto Rican teens eyes wandered. "Oh man…" he muttered, tossing his half eaten pizza slice in the box, "Look, I dunno if I'm ready to fly solo. I screwed up today big time with that helicopter."
"But then you delivered big time," countered Peter, putting a hand on the teen's shoulder. "You held your own against Rhino, took care of the escaped prisoners…."
"I got lucky…" dismissed Miles, shaking off Peter's hand.
The Queen's native sighed, his protégé was hard on himself, which was good in that he would acknowledge a mistake, but sometimes he was so hard on himself that he didn't recognize his own success. "Hey," began Peter sincerely, and when Miles looked up, he continued, "I did this gig for seven years without backup, and you better believe that I screwed up lots of times." He then picked up the badly wrapped box and offered it to Miles, "But that is how you learn."
Miles eyed the parcel warily before asking, "What is it?"
"Christmas present," answered Peter, small grin on his face. "But first, you gotta take the oath."
The veteran Webhead held up his hand, fingers extended, before curling his middle and ring fingers down to the base of his palm. Miles quickly mimicked the recognizable gesture and managed a weak, "Umm… okay."
Offering his protégé a reassuring smile, Peter began, "I promise to do everything in my power to protect this city and its people."
"I promise," affirmed Miles, sounding like he meant it.
Peter lowered his hand, "That's it."
"That oath a real thing?" asked Miles as Peter hopped to his feet.
"Totally," answered Spider-Man with faux sincerity, "Definitely didn't make it up just now." Taking a few steps away, Peter turned back and said, "See you in a few weeks, Spider-Man," before pulling on his mask and adding, "New York's only Spider-Man."
With that, the Wallcrawler leaned back and slipped off the edge, falling gracefully towards the streets below. Twisting around, Spider-Man loosed a webline to swing over the traffic below, heading for the apartment he shared with Mary Jane. With the cold biting at him through his damaged suit, Spidey didn't bother with fancy tricks or anything but the fastest possible commute. When he caught sight of their building, the Webslinger couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief, "Home sweet home," he remarked before making one last swing around the corner and out of sight of the main street.
Crawling up the wall to the window marked with a simple red x in the corner, Peter eased the glass up before slipping inside. The apartment wasn't what most would call spacious, not many on Manhattan were, but it was a mix between homely, organized, and cluttered. There was an effort to keep the living room clean, a small love seat, coffee table, and TV occupying most of the limited square footage. Walls were where most of their stuff was corralled, on shelves, in baskets, on pinboards, a mix of notes, photos, newspaper clippings, spider-gadgets, and what could charitably be called 'knick knacks.' Taking care to close the window behind him and wipe his feet on the floor mat placed beneath the window sill, Peter pulled off his mask and, upon hearing footsteps, looked towards the doorway that led to the bedroom.
"Hey Tiger, busy day?" asked Mary Jane Watson, the redheaded associate editor of the Daily Bugle leaned up against the doorframe, hair done up in a messy pony tail and wearing a black tank top and Spider-Man sweat pants. Standing at 5' 8" and a slim 120 pounds, she had taken up an aerobics hobby, and it shown in her toned form. Mary Jane had been the cute door next door growing up, but maturing into an accomplished reporter had given her a poise and confidence that only enhanced her beauty.
She graced him with a smile that caused his heart to skip a beat, such was the effect she had on him, but Peter managed to stutter out a reply, "Yeah, little trouble with the convoy, but we handled it."
Snatching up an old ESU t-shirt and pair of sweatpants, Peter began stripping out of his Advance Suit, not wanting to wince too much, even if he knew Mary Jane wouldn't judge him for feeling the pain. When he looked back at the redhead, he saw her eyes appraising him, but instead of ogling him, concern was etched on her features, "You sure you're okay, Pete?" she asked, taking a step towards him.
"Oh, fine, I'm fine," he assured, waving her off, he worried about her, it wasn't right for her to worry about him. "I just had to give Miles his Christmas present before I… picked up… dinner…."
To his dismay, MJ didn't seem mad, only giggling softly at his expression, "I figured you would forget something Pete, so I went ahead and whipped something up, just waiting until you got home to try it." She turned and sauntered towards the small kitchen, where Peter noticed a pan gently simmering on the stove.
"You, cook?" asked a genuinely shocked Peter, tossing his damaged suit onto the small table where he had his sewing tools and spare cloth. Pulling on his pants as he hopped to the kitchen, Peter came alongside MJ and wrapped an arm gently around her waist, "Smells good, what is… wait, did you wait because you wanted me to be your guinea pig?"
"Wha… no!" she gasped, giving him a gentle shove that he barely felt but stumbled for her benefit anyways. "I figured that I'd help you out, dust off the cooking skills I haven't used since college. Go on, try it," she encouraged, offering up a spoon.
Peter happily took the spoon and tested her creation, "Pretty good MJ, thanks again" he said as he fetched a pair of bowls for them.
"That's a relief, when I saw that dumpling recipe on the fridge, I feared the worst, didn't want a repeat of that debacle," she replied with a grin while serving them both. Peter carried their bowls to the table by the love seat and set them down before hopping over the couch to go to the bedroom. "Hey!" called MJ, her hands on her hips, "Where do you think you're going?"
Peter blushed, "To pack, I still need to do that before our flight." But Mary Jane shook her head and pointed towards the front door, where both of their bags were neatly arranged. "Did you get my toothbrush? Camera lenses? Power adapters? Passports?"
"And your spare White Spider suit, extra webbing, laptop, and swim trunks," replied Mary Jane without missing a beat. "Now get back here and eat before it gets cold."
Not attempting an argument, Peter succumbed to his growling stomach and joined MJ on the couch, bowl in his lap, and asked. "Did I ever tell you how great you are, Mary Jane?"
He felt a pair of lips peck him on the cheek, "All the time, Tiger, but feel free to keep doing it because I never grow tired of hearing it."
Peter swallowed his first bite, "You're really great, MJ," he said happily.
Mary Jane Watson Research Notes - R.A.F.T. Repairs
A project that spanned eight months and drained a quarter of a billion dollars in funding could never be called a small endeavor, but the result of the effort in City Hall was the most modest of proposals for renovations to the Super Max prison. Despite the options to patch the many holes exploited by Otto Octavius being presented, none, it seems, were funded by City Hall. All documentation related to the project refer to it as a 'Restoration Effort' and not as any sort of upgrade to the prison, but that didn't seem to bother anybody when I pointed it out, even if the man who exploited all the security holes is scheduled to be incarcerated there in two months.
Only one real change was made, and that was a new supplier for most of the destroyed security systems: Oscorp, with their reputation as a company in the local jurisdiction being what put them ahead in bidding.
Officially.
The other thing that Oscorp touted in public statements was the ability for their systems to integrate into the citywide crime network... that has since been shut down by Osborn's successor.
I gotta find some other story to cover, this is just too depressing. Hopefully Symkaria has something interesting happening.
Closing Notes: Yes, this is the opening of Spider-Man Miles Morales. No, I will not be adapting that game, though we will be checking in on Miles from time to time. The second chapter I've posted will be a peek into what Matthew has been getting up to, so go ahead and check that out.
Also feel free to leave a review, I'm happy to see any sort of feedback from y'all.
Stay Frosty, Misfit Delta out.