July 5, 2009
The Adirondack facility loomed in the distance, its nondescript exterior betraying nothing of the sinister experiments taking place inside. Spider-Man swung silently through the trees, his movements fluid and controlled. He perched on a tall pine just outside the facility's perimeter, his lenses narrowing as he scanned the area.
"Quiet," he muttered to himself. "Too quiet. That's never good."
Below him, a faint shimmer caught his attention. A figure moved through the underbrush, cloaked in shadows but undeniably purposeful. Peter tensed, ready to intervene, when the figure stepped into a patch of moonlight.
She was striking—violet hair tied back, her movements smooth and deliberate, like a predator stalking prey. She wore a dark bodysuit with subtle psychic energy radiating faintly around her. Spider-Man's spider-sense tingled faintly but not with the urgency of danger, more like a warning to stay alert.
"Who the heck are you?" Peter whispered under his breath, narrowing his lenses.
Suddenly, Psylocke stopped, her head tilting slightly as if she could feel his presence. Peter froze, but it was too late. Her gaze snapped directly to where he was perched.
"You might as well come down," she said, her voice calm but edged with steel.
Peter hesitated. "Well, there goes stealth mode," he muttered before flipping from the tree and landing lightly in front of her.
"Hi there," he said, his tone light. "I'm guessing you're not just out for a midnight hike?"
Psylocke's eyes narrowed slightly. "And you must be Spider-Man," she replied, her British accent cool and composed. "Your presence here is... unexpected."
"Yeah, well, I could say the same about you," Peter shot back. "Most people don't exactly radiate psychic energy while creeping around secret AIM facilities."
The mention of psychic energy made Psylocke pause. "We've crossed paths before, indirectly," she said, her tone measured. "The Midtown massacre. You were there."
Peter stiffened. "You mean the psychic echo," he said slowly, piecing it together. "That was you."
Before either could say more, a low hum filled the air. Both turned toward the facility as a group of armed operatives emerged, their advanced tech glinting ominously in the moonlight.
"These must be AIM's welcoming committee," Peter quipped, flexing his fingers.
Psylocke's lips pressed into a thin line as she activated her psychic blade, the energy shimmering in her hand. "Their tech has psychic enhancements," she noted. "Be careful."
"Careful's my middle name," Peter replied, just as a blast of energy narrowly missed his head. "Okay, maybe not. Let's dance."
The operatives charged, their weapons crackling with an eerie glow. Spider-Man leapt into action, webbing two of them to the ground before flipping over a third, disarming him with a quick kick. Psylocke moved in the opposite direction, her blade slicing through another weapon as she used her agility to dodge incoming fire.
Peter's movements were fast and acrobatic, his webbing creating chaos among the operatives as he quipped nonstop. "You know, for an evil organization, AIM really needs to work on its customer service!"
Meanwhile, Psylocke's style was precise and lethal. She moved like a shadow, her psychic blade cutting through defenses with ease. One operative raised his weapon toward her, but she anticipated his move, striking him down with a psychic blast before he could pull the trigger.
"Efficient," Peter called out, ducking under a flying piece of debris. "But do you ever smile? It's a great way to throw the bad guys off."
Psylocke raised an eyebrow as she took down another operative with a spin kick. "And your incessant chatter is meant to do... what, exactly?"
"Keep things lively!" Peter shot back, webbing an operative's legs and yanking him to the ground. "You'd be surprised how effective it is."
The battle continued, their contrasting styles creating a chaotic but effective synergy. Psylocke's psychic precision complemented Spider-Man's unpredictable acrobatics, and the operatives quickly found themselves overwhelmed.
As the last operative fell, the two stood back-to-back, catching their breath. Psylocke's blade dissipated, and Peter adjusted his mask.
"Well, that was fun," he said, turning to face her. "So, are you going to tell me who you are, or do I have to guess?"
Psylocke gave him a small, almost imperceptible smirk. "Betsy Braddock," she said. "And we both seem to have the same target."
Peter nodded, his expression thoughtful behind the mask. "Alright, Betsy. Looks like we're on the same team for now. Let's see what AIM's hiding in there."
Without another word, the two turned toward the facility, their partnership forged in battle, with a spark of camaraderie beginning to form.
Spider-Man and Psylocke moved silently through the shadows of the AIM facility, the cold, sterile corridors illuminated by flickering fluorescent lights. The air was heavy with the hum of machines, the faint murmurs of conversation, and the occasional clatter of footsteps echoing in the distance.
"Not to state the obvious," Spider-Man whispered as he crawled upside down along the ceiling, "but these guys really need to invest in better lighting. It's like they're begging for a break-in."
"Focus," Psylocke replied curtly, her psychic senses scanning for threats. Her violet hair shimmered faintly in the dim light, adding to her otherworldly aura.
"Always," Peter quipped, dropping silently to the floor beside her. "Lead the way, psychic detective."
Psylocke shot him a brief glance, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, and gestured toward a faint energy signature pulsing from deeper within the facility. "This way. There's something ahead—psychic energy mixed with... something else. It's unnatural."
They moved together, their footsteps almost soundless. As they approached the source of the disturbance, they came upon a massive observation window overlooking a laboratory. Inside, a group of scientists in white coats worked feverishly around a series of containment pods, each one housing a figure suspended in an eerie green liquid.
Peter's lenses narrowed as he took in the scene. "Those look like... people," he muttered. "Or at least, they used to be."
Psylocke closed her eyes briefly, her psychic blade materializing in her hand. "They're alive, but their minds are... fragmented. AIM's experimenting on them, fusing psychic technology with their physical forms. They're creating soldiers."
Peter clenched his fists. "Great. As if regular AIM goons weren't bad enough, now they want psychic super-soldiers. Why not just stick with bad sci-fi movies?"
"They're using mutant DNA to stabilize the process," Psylocke continued, her voice tinged with anger. "This is why they've been abducting people—mutants and humans alike. The ones in those pods are the ones who survived."
Peter felt a surge of guilt and fury as he stared at the grotesque scene. The Midtown Massacre, the Fourth of July disaster—it all led to this. "This ends tonight," he said, his voice low but resolute.
Psylocke turned to him, her expression unreadable. "Agreed. But if we're going to stop them, we'll need to work together."
"Gladly," Peter replied. "But let's get one thing straight—I don't usually play well with others, especially ones with glowing swords. So, if you've got any secret agendas, now's the time to spill."
Psylocke smirked faintly. "You're one to talk about secret agendas. I'm still not convinced you're not a liability."
Peter shrugged. "Fair enough. But for now, let's just agree that blowing up this nightmare is priority one."
The faint sound of approaching footsteps interrupted their exchange. Psylocke's psychic blade flared brighter, and Peter instinctively raised his web-shooters.
"Security patrol," Psylocke whispered. "We'll need to move fast once we're inside. They'll sound an alarm the moment they realize we're here."
"Got it," Peter said. "I'll handle the science nerds and their tech. You take care of the psychic nightmare fuel."
"Try not to get yourself killed," Psylocke replied as they prepared to move.
Peter grinned beneath his mask. "That's the plan."
With that, they slipped into the laboratory, their movements synchronized despite their contrasting styles. Psylocke moved like a shadow, disabling a pair of guards with swift, silent strikes. Spider-Man, meanwhile, swung overhead, webbing up the scientists before they could reach the alarms.
As the chaos unfolded, the two heroes found themselves working together seamlessly. Psylocke's precision and psychic prowess complemented Spider-Man's speed and agility, creating a dynamic that neither had expected.
In the center of the lab, an enormous machine hummed to life, its energy output rising dangerously. Psylocke's psychic senses flared, and she called out, "They're activating the super-soldiers!"
"Not on my watch!" Peter yelled, leaping onto the control panel and webbing up the controls. "You handle the pods—I'll keep these guys busy!"
The battle erupted into full-scale chaos, but despite their initial wariness, Spider-Man and Psylocke began to trust each other's instincts. By the end of it, as the last of the AIM operatives were subdued and the machinery destroyed, the two stood amidst the wreckage, breathing heavily but victorious.
Psylocke extinguished her blade and turned to Spider-Man. "Not bad... for someone who talks too much."
Peter grinned. "And not bad for someone who takes herself way too seriously."
The faintest smile tugged at Psylocke's lips as she looked around at the destroyed facility. "We make a decent team," she admitted.
Peter nodded, his expression turning serious. "Yeah, we do. Now let's make sure this place stays shut down for good."
Together, they began planting charges to destroy the facility, the foundation of their uneasy alliance beginning to strengthen.
"Well, well," a new voice said, his voice smooth and condescending. "The spider and the psychic. You've been quite the thorn in AIM's side, haven't you?"
"Call it a hobby," Spider-Man quipped, his web-shooters aimed. "Now, how about you put your hands up and make this easy for everyone? We're kind of on a tight schedule."
Psylocke's psychic blade flared to life, and she stepped forward with full recognition who she was facing. "This ends now, Gryve. We know what you're doing here—mutant DNA, psychic technology, super-soldiers. You've gone too far."
Dr. Finneas Gryve chuckled, his gaze sharp and unsettling. "Too far? Oh, my dear Psylocke, you haven't even begun to understand the potential here. AIM is merely the vessel. I am the future."
He reached for a nearby console, and before either could react, he injected himself with a glowing serum. His body convulsed, and an unnatural energy radiated from him as his form twisted. His eyes turned a searing white, and his veins glowed with psychic energy. When the transformation ended, Finneas stood taller, exuding a palpable aura of menace.
"I am Synapse," he declared, his voice layered with psychic resonance. "And you're too late to stop me."
Without warning, Synapse unleashed a psychic wave that slammed into both heroes. Spider-Man staggered, clutching his head as visions of his worst failures—the Midtown Massacre, Uncle Ben's death, Gwen Stacy's fall—flooded his mind.
"You think you're a hero?" Synapse's voice echoed in Peter's head. "You're nothing but a failure. You couldn't save them then, and you won't save anyone now."
Peter fell to his knees, trembling under the weight of the psychic assault. "No... I... I can't...," he muttered, his voice barely audible.
Psylocke stepped in front of him, her blade glowing brighter than ever. She sent a psychic counterwave toward Synapse, forcing him to recoil. "Get out of his mind," she demanded, her voice cold and commanding.
Synapse sneered. "Ah, Betsy Braddock. Always the protector. But can you protect him and stop me at the same time?"
He launched another psychic blast, but Psylocke deflected it, her movements sharp and controlled. "Spider-Man!" she shouted, sparing him a glance. "You need to fight it! Remember who you are!"
Peter's hands trembled as he struggled to push back against the invading thoughts. He clenched his fists, drawing on Aunt May's words from earlier: Heroism is about continuing to try. Slowly, he forced himself to his feet.
"Nice try, Synapse," he said, his voice steadying. "But I've got a rule: no room for freeloaders in my brain."
With newfound resolve, Spider-Man leapt back into the fight, weaving around Synapse's attacks. Meanwhile, Psylocke closed the distance, her blade slashing through the psychic energy shields Synapse conjured.
The battle was chaotic, with Synapse warping the environment with his powers, turning lab equipment into projectiles and creating illusions to throw them off. But Spider-Man and Psylocke adapted quickly, their contrasting skills complementing each other.
Psylocke provided psychic cover, disrupting Synapse's concentration, while Spider-Man used his agility to land precise strikes. "Tag team's not so bad, huh?" Peter called out, dodging a psychic lance.
"Focus!" Psylocke snapped, though a hint of amusement flickered in her eyes.
Despite their efforts, Synapse proved too powerful to contain. Realizing he was outmatched, he unleashed a massive psychic burst, destabilizing the facility's core systems. Alarms blared, and the walls began to shake.
"This isn't over," Synapse growled, retreating into the shadows. "You've only delayed the inevitable."
The two heroes barely had time to process his escape before the facility began to collapse around them.
"We need to go!" Psylocke shouted, grabbing Spider-Man's arm as debris rained down.
Peter hesitated, glancing toward the direction Synapse had fled. "We can't let him—"
"No time!" Psylocke cut him off, pulling him toward the exit.
Reluctantly, Peter followed, webbing aside falling debris as they navigated the crumbling facility. As they reached the final corridor, a massive explosion erupted behind them.
"Hold on!" Peter yelled, scooping Psylocke into his arms and firing a web line toward the nearest opening.
They swung out of the facility just as it collapsed in a fiery explosion, landing safely on a nearby hill. Peter set Psylocke down, both of them panting heavily.
"That... was close," Peter said, leaning on his knees.
Psylocke nodded, her gaze fixed on the burning wreckage. "Synapse got away," she said bitterly.
"Yeah," Peter admitted, his tone somber. "But we stopped whatever nightmare he was cooking up here. That's something."
She glanced at him, her expression softening. "You held your own back there. Not bad... for a spider."
Peter grinned, the tension easing slightly. "And you're not half bad yourself... for a psychic ninja."
Despite the destruction and Synapse's escape, a sense of mutual respect had begun to form between them. They stood side by side, watching the flames flicker against the night sky, knowing their paths had only just begun to intertwine.
The city was quiet now, the chaos of the crumbling AIM facility left far behind. Spider-Man swung through the streets, his mind still buzzing with the aftermath of the mission and the strange new partnership he found himself in. Psylocke trailed him effortlessly, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with graceful precision.
As Peter approached his apartment building, he glanced back at Psylocke, who had stopped at a neighboring rooftop, her arms crossed. "You're really going to follow me home, huh?"
She tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "You're hiding something. I can sense it."
Peter landed on the rooftop of his building, turning to face her. "Hiding? I mean, of course I am. You know, secret identity and all. Isn't that, like, the superhero rulebook 101?"
Psylocke leapt across the gap, landing lightly beside him. "Your thoughts betray you, Spider-Man. You have leads you haven't shared. And given what's at stake, I'm not leaving until I've seen them."
Peter sighed, running a hand through his messy mask. "So, what? You're just going to waltz into my life, read my mind whenever you feel like it, and then call it a day?"
Her violet eyes glimmered faintly in the moonlight. "I don't need to read your mind. Your hesitation says enough."
Peter rubbed the back of his neck, realizing there wasn't much use arguing. "Fine," he relented, dropping into a fire escape. "But don't say I didn't warn you. My place isn't exactly X-Mansion fancy."
Psylocke followed, her movements effortless and silent, as they made their way to the apartment window. Peter slid it open, stepping inside and gesturing vaguely at the modest living space. "Home sweet home," he muttered.
The apartment was small but neat. A cluttered desk sat in one corner, stacked with papers, a laptop, and scattered photos. The walls had faint discolorations, and the furniture was mismatched, but it carried a warmth that spoke of lived-in comfort.
Psylocke stepped inside, scanning the room with a critical eye. "It's… quaint," she remarked, though there was no judgment in her tone.
Peter pulled off his gloves and sighed, sinking onto the worn couch. "Yeah, well, not all of us get Danger Rooms and high-tech jets." He motioned to the fridge. "There's water if you're thirsty. Or a couple cans of soda if that's more your thing."
Psylocke didn't respond immediately, her attention shifting back to Peter. "You're holding back," she said finally.
Peter frowned. "From what? I just let you into my apartment, didn't I?"
She crossed her arms, leaning casually against the wall. "Your mask. You may think you're keeping a part of yourself hidden, but I already know who you are. Your thoughts aren't as closed off as you think."
Peter froze, his stomach dropping. He had spent years keeping his identity a secret, shielding it from everyone except those closest to him. The idea of someone pulling it from his mind so casually was unnerving.
"Look," Psylocke added, softening her tone, "I'm not here to expose you. But if we're going to work together, we need to be honest. Take the mask off, Spider-Man. Or should I say, Peter Parker?"
For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint hum of the city outside. Peter's hands moved hesitantly to his mask. "You know, most people don't ask so nicely," he quipped, trying to mask his nerves with humor.
With a deep breath, he pulled the mask off, revealing his tired, boyish face. His hair stuck up awkwardly from the sweat and tension of the night, and his eyes carried the weight of someone who had seen too much too soon.
"There. Happy now?" he asked, slumping back into the couch.
Psylocke studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nodded. "It suits you. Your face, I mean. It's a reminder that beneath the mask, you're still human."
Peter blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. "Uh… thanks? I think?"
She stepped closer, her gaze softening. "You push yourself too hard, Peter. Even now, you're thinking about the next move, the next fight. You need to take a moment to recover, or you'll burn out before this is over."
Peter chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, well, with great power and all that jazz. It's not exactly a job with sick days."
Psylocke sat down across from him, her expression thoughtful. "Even heroes need to breathe. You don't have to carry this alone anymore."
For the first time that night, Peter felt a small weight lift off his shoulders. He still wasn't sure what to make of Betsy Braddock, but in that moment, her words resonated.
"Alright," he said finally, leaning back against the couch. "But just so you know, I don't share my Netflix password. Heroic partnership or not."
Psylocke smirked faintly, the tension between them easing. "I think I'll manage without it."
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Peter allowed himself to sit still, letting the chaos of the night fade into the background.
Psylocke sat cross-legged on the rooftop of an old brownstone, her psychic butterfly aura flickering softly as she communicated with the X-Men through the psychic link. Her voice was calm but firm, cutting through the mental static from the distance.
"We've confirmed AIM's immediate operations in Eastern Europe are dismantled," she said, her tone professional. "However, there's a new target—someone AIM was protecting and enhancing. A former geneticist who now calls himself Synapse."
The team's responses came back in bursts. Cyclops was the first to speak. "Synapse? What's his deal?"
"Advanced neural manipulation," Psylocke explained. "He's weaponized his own mind to control others—humans, mutants, animals, you name it. AIM's tech enhanced his range and precision. He's somewhere in the city, likely laying low while planning his next move."
"Lovely," muttered Wolverine, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "So what's the plan, Betsy? You already got a lead?"
Psylocke hesitated for a moment before responding. "I've been working with one of New York's local heroes to help cover more ground. Spider-Man."
There was a brief silence before Storm's voice came through, curious and cautious. "Spider-Man? I've heard of him. Isn't he... a little unorthodox for a mission like this?"
"He's resourceful," Psylocke replied. "And he knows the city better than any of us. His help could make all the difference in finding Synapse."
Cyclops's voice was measured but skeptical. "We trust your judgment, Psylocke. But Spider-Man isn't a member of the team. Are you sure you can rely on him?"
"I can handle myself if anything goes wrong," she said firmly. "Besides, he's already proven himself capable. This is a collaboration, not a dependency."
Cyclops relented with a sigh. "Fine. We'll deploy observation drones across the city tonight to monitor for Synapse's activity. Get some rest—we'll need everyone sharp tomorrow."
"Understood," Psylocke replied. The psychic connection faded as she rose to her feet, the soft glow of her aura disappearing.
Psylocke dropped down into the alley where Spider-Man was waiting. The city's orange streetlights cast long shadows as he leaned casually against a fire escape, his mask hiding any expression.
"How'd the call go?" he asked, his tone light but curious.
"They're cautious about working with someone new," Psylocke said, brushing a strand of violet hair from her face. "But they trust me to handle it. Synapse will take all of us to bring down."
Spider-Man nodded, his posture straightening. "Teamwork makes the dream work, right? So, what's next?"
"For tonight, rest," Psylocke said. She hesitated for a moment before adding, "I don't have a place to stay in the city right now. Would you mind if I use your sofa for the night?"
Spider-Man blinked behind his mask, clearly caught off guard. "Uh, yeah, sure! Though you've seen what you're checking into right?"
Psylocke smirked faintly. "I'm not looking for luxury. Just somewhere to recharge before tomorrow."
Entering Peter's apartment, Psylocke noticed the sofa bed was already pulled out with a slightly mismatched set of blankets folded neatly on top.
Peter gestured toward the sofa. "Make yourself at home. There's tea in the cabinet if you want some, and I promise the bathroom is spider-free. Probably."
As Psylocke settled onto the sofa, Peter lingered for a moment. "If you need anything... you know, just shout. I'll be in my room."
She looked up, her violet eyes meeting his. "Thank you, Peter. For everything."
He gave her a small, sheepish smile before retreating to his room. Psylocke lay back on the sofa bed, staring at the ceiling. For the first time in what felt like days, the tension in her shoulders eased.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but tonight, she allowed herself a moment of quiet amid the chaos.
July 6, 2009
Morning had only begun to shine and Peter and Betsy knew they could not allow themselves a moment of hesitation. The drones might not have picked up anything, but they could not let themselves linger for as long as Synapse could be found. Knowing where to go and how to find him was another issue they needed to start deducing.
"So," Spider-Man began, gesturing toward the glowing grid with a casual wave, "we've got three options. Industrial district, old shipping yards, or—my personal favorite—an abandoned power plant. Because nothing says evil lair like a creepy, decommissioned building."
Psylocke tilted her head, studying the map with a critical eye. "The shipping yards are too exposed," she said, her British accent clipped but soft. "And the power plant doesn't align with the energy signatures we've been tracking." She pointed to a cluster of glowing dots on the map. "This industrial block, however—it's central, well-fortified, and the perfect place to house the equipment AIM would need for their experiments."
Spider-Man leaned closer, pretending to inspect the map but clearly watching her instead. "Man, you really don't miss a thing, do you? You're like Sherlock Holmes, but cooler. And with psychic powers. Sherlockette?"
Psylocke raised an eyebrow, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Your attempts at humor are... persistent."
"Hey, persistence is half the battle," Spider-Man quipped, leaning back with a shrug. "You don't get anywhere in this business by giving up. Believe me, I've learned that the hard way."
The moment hung between them for a beat, and then Psylocke's tone softened. "You've been doing this for a while, haven't you? Long enough to know the stakes."
Spider-Man hesitated, his usual quips replaced by a rare seriousness. "Yeah. I started young. Too young, probably. Back then, I thought being Spider-Man was just about swinging around and stopping bad guys. But it's... more than that. It's about responsibility."
Psylocke nodded slowly, her violet eyes thoughtful. "Responsibility is a heavy burden. Especially when it isolates you from the people you care about."
Peter glanced at her, sensing the weight behind her words. "Sounds like you know something about that."
She looked away, the city lights casting shadows across her face. "My brother, Brian... Captain Britain. We used to fight side by side, but his ideals... they don't align with reality. He clings to a world that doesn't exist, while I see the world as it is. That... distance between us—it's grown too vast to bridge."
Peter's voice was gentle. "Family stuff's never easy. Trust me, I've had my fair share of it. But hey, you're still out here doing good. And from what I've seen? You're pretty incredible at it."
Psylocke allowed herself a small smile. "You're not what I expected, Spider-Man. Beneath all the jokes, you're... insightful."
"And you're not as scary as I thought you'd be," Peter replied with a grin. "But don't tell anyone I said that. Ruins the mystique."
Psylocke let out a soft laugh, the sound surprising both of them. For a moment, the tension between them eased, replaced by something lighter—something that hinted at mutual understanding.
"So," she said, turning her focus back to the map, "this industrial site—it's likely our best lead. But it won't be easy. AIM won't hesitate to use whatever tech they have to stop us."
Peter straightened, his tone suddenly serious. "If you're asking whether I'm up for it, the answer's yes. I've taken on all kinds of bad guys—robots, symbiotes, green goblins with bad haircuts. AIM doesn't scare me."
Psylocke's smile returned, this time softer. "Good. I'll inform the X-Men that we'll have your assistance. They'll want to prepare for whatever comes next."
She began to step away but paused, turning back to him. "Thank you, Peter. For helping. And... for being someone I can trust."
Peter gave her a small, lopsided grin. "Anytime, Betsy. We make a pretty good team."
As Psylocke disappeared into the shadows, Peter made his way to the water tower, gazing out over the city. Something about her—her strength, her poise, her honesty—left an impression he couldn't quite shake.
"Well," he muttered to himself, "this just got a lot more interesting."
Author's Note: Hello everyone, so here we are with Spider-Man and Psylocke finally meeting for the first time, hope you're all looking forward to seeing where it goes from here. Just so you're not confused, Synapse is an original character. I wanted to try and give some creative spin to the setting and introduce a new character never seen before so hopefully he's not too bad of a character.
So to answer the Guest reviewer, I'm going to assume that this reviewer has the same question as Sixdry where if Psylocke will end up becoming her Asian version. The answer is yes, I do have a plan to make that an arc actually though it will be a little bit before then. I hope to see you all for the future chapters.