From a high construction site above the city streets, a solitary man in black watched the people go about their day. It was sunset, darkness wouldn't be far behind, then he would begin his work again. This city, even from this height I can still smell the rats, he thought. It needs to be washed clean, and it'll be in blood.
He made his way down towards a waiting van parked in the back alley. 'Heroes', that's what they call 'em. So called 'Champions of Justice' who protect the innocent. What the hell were they doing when my family died? Maria... Lisa... Little Frank...
He opens up the rear door, revealing the interior to be stocked with weapons and ammunition. Punisher loads up a pistol, placing it in the holster on his waist and attached a silencer to a sniper rifle. 'Heroes' are a half measure, he went on in his head. They act like this whole city's a playground. They dance around in bright long john's, beat up the bullies with their fists, throw 'em in jail. And then a month, a week, a day later, they're back on the streets doing the same goddamn thing.
He moves to the front seat and starts the ignition, Not anymore. I do the one thing that they can't. A 'hero' hits 'em, and they get back up. I hit 'em, and they stay down. It's permanent. I make sure that they don't make it out on the street again.
But heroes, they don't care. All that matters to them is getting a paycheck and looking good on camera. There are no real heroes anymore, Punisher drives out of the alley and into traffic. And by the time I'm done here, everyone will know it...
At a different high point in the city, Osborn prepared for his own assault on the city. He's wearing his Hobgoblin costume and the six Sentinels are primed and ready to launch. Standing with him is Azazel, and several other villains who'd managed to escape the EDR. One of them was testing out a new apparatus created by Tinkerer.
"How's it fit, Toomes?" He asked, watching the bald man activate a set of wings that shot out from his arms. "Not bad at all. Pretty close to my original design," the man replied, floating up in the air thanks to a power source on his back. "If I had this ready a few weeks ago, I could've participated during the M.A raid."
"Matches your Quirk pretty well too," Tinkerer indicates the bird-like legs of the older man. Razor sharp talons stuck out at the end. "Sorry about the color though," he continued. "Only had green available." "It's fine," Toomes replied. "Not too flashy, at least."
"Well now you're ready, so prove our investment in you worthwhile, Vulture," said a blunt Hobgoblin. "You'll be our eye in the sky. I'm going to want updates on the Sentinels, and the locations of whatever heroes you see." The older man nodded in acknowledgment.
Hobgoblin turned to the remaining villains, "While the Sentinels do their thing, your job is to loot and stock up on the supplies we need. Go ahead and cut loose with your Quirks, make a bit of chaos. But don't get caught or there'll be hell to pay. Is that clear?" "Yes boss!!" The henchmen called out.
Grinning sadistically, Hobgoblin activates the remote controller and the giant robots went online. One by one, they take off into the sky and fly towards the city. "Then have at it, boys!!!" He raised his arms, as if embracing the cityscape before them, and the villains charged off the roof to create havoc. Vulture took off into the sky as Hobgoblin prepped his glider.
"You're going as well?" Asked Azazel. "Shouldn't you wait here and observe the proceedings?" "A true leader leads by example," replied Hobgoblin. "Something my old man said, probably the only useful advice he ever gave me. Besides, why should these guys have all the fun?" With that, the villain took off into the sky, cackling maniacally as Azazel watched from the rooftop.
He took out a cell phone and pressed a button, speed dialing one of the few contacts. "Yes?" Asked a muffled voice. "Everything is going to plan, der Boss," said Azazel. "Osborn launched the Sentinels and the attack is underway." "Excellent," the voice went on. "Continue to lend the young man support, monitor his progress. How tonight goes will determine his capabilities as a leader."
"Und the Sentinels?" Asked the devil man. "We're getting their readings as we speak," replied the voice. "If a hero destroys two or three, it's of no consequence. This serves as a field test for the latest model. Any data they record on the heroes they encounter only furthers our own agenda." "Indeed," Azazel concurred. "Please give the other Masters my regards."
Back at the street level, Peter and Stick were riding a bus through the city. They carried paper bags full of groceries, and each held a vanilla ice cream cone. "Didn't think there'd still be an ice cream place still open this late in the year," Peter commented. "Heh, I haven't done this since I trained Matty," the old man commented, licking his cone.
"Don't have any grandkids of your own?" Peter asked, looking at his mentor. Stick just shrugged, "Probably have a few out in the world somewhere. I'm 94 years old, let's just say I've been around." The boy almost dropped his ice cream cone, "You're 94!?"
"That's the part you're focused on?" The old man raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Well... honestly given what little I know about your personality, I wouldn't put it past ya to be a bit of a player," Peter replied cheekily. "Hmph, smartass," Stick muttered.
"But seriously though, you're 94? The way you fight and the way you train, I never would've guessed!" The boy was quite impressed. "And you honestly don't look a day over 50. What's your secret?" "Meditation, a strict diet, and the occasional companionship of a beautiful woman," replied Stick. "But that involves a different kind of protection that I'm sure as hell not teaching you-."
"Oh God! No thank you!! I don't need the mental scarring!!" Peter tried to cover his ears, forgetting about the half eaten ice cream in his hand that smushed into his head. He realized his mistake and tried to clean himself as the old man grinned, Dumbass.
Suddenly, Peter's Spider Sense went off. Stick looked up as well, his own well honed senses detecting a disturbance. They quickly dove for cover from their seats as a robotic figure slammed into the side of the bus. The vehicle turned over and slammed into a nearby building before it finally stopped. The passengers were dazed, confused, and in most cases, injured.
Peter got up, shaking his head as if to clear it. "S-Stick?" He asked, still a bit groggy. "Over here," the old man grunted, using a bent railing to pick himself up. "What the hell was that?" He asked, picking up his cane, which miraculously hadn't broken.
The boy's eyes widened as he looked out the broken window. The 10 foot robot adjusted itself and began to walk towards the wrecked bus. "It's a Sentinel," he said, horrified. "Wait, you mean that robot thing those idiots attacked the school with?" Stick made his way over as Peter simply nodded in response. The passengers nearby began to stir and scream in horror at the approaching metal behemoth.
"Well damn..." He said, breaking open the emergency window. "Everyone, out this way!" Stick barked out, assuming command. "Those who can move, help the ones who can't and get the hell off this tin can!!" He turned to Peter, "You know how to fight that thing?"
"Sort of, but we don't have the tools or the raw power to beat it," the boy replied as Stick helped a woman to her feet. "Then can you keep it busy while I get these people off the bus?" He asked. "I'm an old man with a walking stick, can't do much against a super-bot."
Peter was taken aback, this was a tall order, "Maybe, but I won't be able to hold it back for long." "Then suit up," said the old man grimly. "While nobody's watching ya." Moving quickly, Peter put on his mask and removed his outer garments, revealing the costume underneath. After checking his web shooters, he put on his gloves as the robot drew closer to the bus.
"Remember your training, kid," said Stick, his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Use your surroundings, keep it off balance and keep collateral to a minimum. The mind controls the body, the body controls your enemy-"
"'And the enemy does jack shit by the time I'm done with it'," Peter grinned through his mask. The old man gave a thin smile, "Go get 'em, Peter." The boy leapt out of the open window, his enhanced strength bringing him up into the air. Then, shooting out a web line, Spider-Man swung into action.
"Hey, rust bucket!!!" The Sentinel took notice of the costumed boy hurtling its way, taking the impact of a double kick to its face. While it was knocked off balance, the blow didn't seem to do any damage. Still, his actions gave Spider-Man its undivided attention, throwing a punch towards the pavement where he'd landed.
The hero dodged, webbing its wrist and trying to tie it up as he swung around the giant robot. Unfortunately, the Sentinel broke out of the hold before Spider-Man could even wrap around once. Right, enhanced strength, he thought, trying to come up with a plan. Never did get to really see it in action at the EDR. This looks kinda different from that one though, what else can it-
The boy's train of thought is derailed, however, as his Spider Sense went off, warning him of the Sentinel's incoming attack. It opened its hand, revealing a small, round opening. From within, a high powered beam of energy blasted out towards Spider-Man. He dodged it, with the beam hitting an abandoned parked car. It exploded on impact, the boy cringing at the noise.
"Freaking laser beams too..." He muttered, climbing the building he landed on. The big machine lowered its arm and gave chase, activating a propulsion system that let it fly. It quickly gained on the hero, however it couldn't shoot the laser, seeing as its hands being used as stabilizers. "I can't let it shoot that beam again, it'll cause all kinds of damage." Spider-Man flipped backwards, landing on top of the Sentinel.
It tried to grab at him, somewhat throwing off the flight pattern and sending them both in a different direction. "Come on, come on, this thing's gotta have a weakness!" He remembered how the first robot was disabled by its own fist, but the head and body armor looked more reinforced this time around. Spider-Man avoided the giant hands and climbed around to the robot's back, avoiding a nasty blow.
He clung on for dear life as the Sentinel rolled in the air, attempting to throw him off, eventually heading towards a skyscraper. The boy didn't need Spider Sense to figure out it was gonna try to scrape him off. Acting fast, Spider-Man shot webs at the wrists and stood on the robot's back. Yanking hard, he tried to alter the Sentinel's direction. "Come oonnnnn!!!!" He grit his teeth, pulling as hard as he could, and by a sheer miracle, narrowly avoided collision away with the building.
Now barely gaining control, the boy caught a glimpse of the harbor in his peripheral vision. Suddenly, an idea came, This thing's electronic, right? Which means if I can get it in water... Wasting no time, Spider-Man steered the Sentinel towards the large body of water. "Move!!! Get clear!!!" He called out as they approached the shoreline. The boy wasn't sure if anyone could hear him, but thankfully dockworkers below began to run for cover as they caught sight of the giant robot careening towards the water. I just hope this is enough, thought Spider-Man.
Keeping a tight hold on the webbing, he jumped up and delivered a powerful double kick to the Sentinel's back, an attempt at knocking it further down. His Spider Sense screamed at him to get the hell out of there. "Everybody's gone surfin..." Thwipping out a web line to a nearby crane, he pulled himself off the Sentinel before it hit the water.
It makes a big splash, and a sudden burst of raw electricity envelopes the robot and the surrounding water. Finally, it seized up and sank beneath the waves it made upon impact. Up atop the crane, Spider-Man breathed a sigh of relief. "Glad it's not waterproof," he said.
"Hey! What the hell was that!?" A dockworker came running over, "Are you a hero?" "Call the police," said the boy, lowering himself to the ground. "They're definitely gonna want that evidence." "Heh, I'll bet," the sticky man nodded, taking out his cellphone. "So what now? You going after the others?"
"Wait, others!?" Spider-Man asked in shock. He barely held his own against this robot, and now there were more!? "Yeah, it's all over the news," the man brought up the latest feed of information. Indeed, the images and video he scrolled through showed grim tidings for the city of New York.
"I'd better call Stick," said the boy, patting around his body before realizing it was back with his discarded clothing. Crap, he thought. I've gotta get back there. Hopefully he was able to get everyone out safely. He turned to the dockworker, "Can you wait here until the authorities show up? If there's more of those things out there, then I've gotta get back to my mentor."
"You kidding? You just gave me a story to tell my kid later! Consider it done," the man said with a smile. "What's your name?" "...Spider-Man," the boy replied. "But I'm not really a hero yet. I'm an M.A student and I'm working as an intern, but our bus was attacked by that robot."
"As far as I'm concerned, kid, you're already a pro," said the man with a smile. "I'll keep my eyes open for you in the news, Spider-Man." The boy beamed underneath his mask, but he couldn't stay longer. There were more Sentinels running amok in the city, and he had to get back to Stick. Shooting a web line, Spider-Man took to the skies and swung through the city, towards whatever dangers lay ahead.