[Third Person Pov]
The sandstorm roared, its howling winds slamming against the Ferris wheel with relentless force. The massive structure groaned under the pressure, and the carriages rocked back and forth in a violently unpredictable rhythm—each sway threatening to snap them loose from their hinges. Inside, terrified riders clung to whatever they could grab, knuckles white, voices hoarse as they screamed over the gale.
Aria swooped down from above, her silhouette briefly swallowed by the swirling wall of sand. She phased effortlessly through the metal frame of a carriage and wrapped her arms around the panicking passengers inside. With a sharp, decisive kick, she blasted the door open. The moment it flew free, the wind tore it from its hinges and carried it spinning into the storm like a paper scrap.
"Careful, Arachnid!" Nightwing's voice cut through the chaos from high above. He streaked through the air in a neon-green arc, swinging from line to line with practiced ease. His Escrima stick left his hand in a clean throw, spinning end over end until it struck the roller-coaster's control panel. Sparks flew as the system was forcibly overridden—he had no choice, the operator was nowhere near able to stop it in these conditions.
The stick zipped back to his hand like a loyal boomerang, its green neon glow the only thing visible through the sand-choked air. With that same light, Nightwing could see that the passengers on the roller coaster were no longer just screaming—they were being lifted from their seats by the violent updrafts of the storm.
Two small children were ripped upward, hands flailing wildly as they screamed in pure panic. Their mother reached toward them, tears streaming, but the wind yanked her back against the restraints.
"Sorry, kids, but you two are way too young to be flying solo!" Nightwing quipped. He dove with both arms outstretched, catching the children mid-air as if snatching them from the jaws of the storm itself. In one fluid swing, he arced back toward the seats and planted them safely inside.
The mother sobbed with relief—but a sudden gust slammed into her, lifting her clean out of the coaster. She shrieked as she tumbled downward.
Nightwing was already moving.
"Please read the guidelines, ma'am!" Harry called out, voice playful even while descending at breakneck speed. He swung under the entire track, looped back upward, and grabbed her before she hit the ground, depositing her gently back into her seat.
"Keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times," he added, shooting webs that stuck their hands to the railing to prevent anyone else from flying off. With a flip, he landed behind the ride and opened a glowing portal in front of it.
"Don't worry, everyone—this ride's on me!" he announced. He braced himself, muscles flexing visibly through the suit as he pushed the entire roller coaster back toward the start of the track.
Nightwing tapped his Escrima stick lightly against the frame, sending a controlled electric pulse through the ride. The webbing dissolved, and the safety restraints automatically unlatched.
He leapt onto the main drop-off point, making himself visible. Civilians scrambled toward him desperately, their vision nearly useless in the suffocating storm. Yet through the shifting walls of sand, Nightwing's neon suit cut through the gloom. His green bird emblem glowed with a steady emerald radiance, his white eye lenses shining like beacons.
"Alright, everyone," he called out, raising his Escrima stick as a makeshift torch, "visibility's garbage right now, but follow my lead. I'll get you all out safely."
The crowd exchanged frightened glances, but seeing their hero standing tall despite the storm gave them confidence. One by one, they fell in behind him, shielding their faces with their arms as they moved.
Aria descended from above, gently lowering rescued riders to the ground and directing them toward Nightwing's glowing silhouette. "Follow his lead!" she urged, pointing toward the light. "Stay close!"
Nightwing pushed forward with his forearm shielding his face, the torch raised high above his head. The emerald glow cut a narrow path through the suffocating haze, guiding the group step by careful step.
Above them, Aria spun through the turbulent air, blasting away debris that the storm hurled toward the civilians—wooden planks, plastic signage, even pieces of carnival booths. Every time something threatened to strike, she reduced it to harmless shrapnel.
While Nightwing led them out, step by steady step, Aria circled like a guardian angel, ensuring that not a single stray object or sudden blast of wind could harm them.
Together, they carved a path of safety through the raging storm.
…
Gwen and MJ arrived at the capsized cruise ship. The vessel groaned like a wounded giant, tilted almost entirely onto its side. People dangled from railings, clutching them with every ounce of strength they had left, while others had already been thrown overboard and were desperately trying to stay afloat.
Gwen landed on the tilted deck and immediately took charge. "There might be people who can't swim, let alone swing underwater. Get everyone in the water first. I'll create a stable platform for them to stand on."
MJ nodded with fierce determination. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward the edge of the ship and leapt off, her body slicing through the air before she plunged into the churning sea with a perfect dive. The moment she was submerged, her enhanced spider-senses flared to life—she could feel every panicked heartbeat, every struggling limb beneath the surface. Her eyes lit up with a brilliant pink-violet glow, illuminating the darkness of the deep as she swam with supernatural speed.
Above, Gwen's palm shimmered with a pale blue light. An ethereal orb of power blossomed in her hand. She hurled it toward the water below, and the moment it struck, ice exploded outward in a rapid, spiraling bloom. A broad platform of frost spread like a frozen flower unfurling on the sea.
Gwen slid across the fresh ice, her boots gliding as she extended her arms. A magic circle materialized in front of her, sigils spinning like delicate gears. With a sharp push of her hands, a flock of enormous bird-shaped constructs exploded outward from the circle—each one carved from shimmering blue energy.
With intense concentration, Gwen controlled each bird mentally. They swooped toward the dangling passengers one at a time, gripping them gently in talon-shaped constructs and dropping them onto the ice beside her. One by one, the rescued civilians landed safely, sliding a few feet before coming to a stop and collapsing with exhausted gratitude.
Once she had freed everyone hanging from the railings, Gwen leapt upward, twisting into a graceful somersault. A larger bird construct swept under her, catching her mid-air as she stepped onto its back. It carried her upward, granting her a high vantage point.
With a hawk's view of the disaster zone, Gwen tapped the side of her mask. Her lenses shifted, activating their X-ray function. Her HUD flared to life, highlighting hundreds of life signatures—the trapped, the drifting, the unconscious. She mapped the entire ship in an instant.
She extended her arms outward. More magic circles flared around her like floating halos, each one birthing another massive frost-formed bird. They peeled away from her sides and dove toward the ship, spreading out in coordinated patterns as they entered shattered windows, broken hallways, and half-flooded rooms. Working in tandem with her spider-senses, Gwen guided them with laser precision, ensuring every person was lifted without aggravating broken bones, dislocations, or bruises.
Then—light.
The waters beneath Gwen's ice platform began glowing with a bright pink-violet shimmer, pulsing like the heart of a star. The glow intensified, spreading outward until the entire sea around the platform was illuminated.
A second later, a massive psychic construct tore through the water's surface—a submarine, sculpted from mental energy, its form flickering like a dream yet solid enough to displace the waves. A staircase extended from its side, forming neatly onto the ice.
The hatch opened, and a completely soaked MJ emerged, hair plastered to her face but grinning ear to ear.
"Special delivery!" she announced proudly, guiding the group of drenched survivors behind her down the staircase and onto the ice.
Once the last person stepped safely onto the platform, Gwen turned and asked, "Do you think you can flip it back over?"
MJ looked offended for a moment, arching a brow. "Are you kidding me? Aren't you looking down on me a little too much?"
Her smirk widened. "Watch this."
Without waiting for further comment, MJ sprinted back toward the edge and dove into the sea again. A heartbeat later, the entire ocean lit up with a radiant pink glow—stronger than before.
"OOOH YEAAAAAHHH!!" MJ's triumphant shout echoed from below.
A colossal construct in MJ's own image surged upward from the depths—towering, muscular, and glowing like a goddess of psychic force. Civilians instinctively jumped backward, slipping across the ice as they stared up at the titanic figure with sheer horror and awe.
Gwen dragged a hand down her face. "Oh, for the love of—"
The giant MJ waded through the water and reached for the cruise ship. With both enormous hands, she gripped the railing and heaved. The entire vessel shuddered, streams of water and sand pouring off its side as she strained to lift it. Slowly—inch by inch—the ship righted itself, turning upright once again and settling heavily back onto the water.
Once the feat was done, MJ flexed her arm and kissed her bicep with exaggerated flair before looking over towards Gwen and raising her brows repeatedly in a suggestive manner.
Gwen let out a tired, fond laugh. "Yeah, yeah… show-off."
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