The neon rain of Earth-731's underdistrict, 2030, lashed Wilson Fisk's spire, its glass walls shimmering like a blade in the dark. The air inside crackled with tension, Gwen Stacy's tablet pinging a bounty hunter's signal—too close, too fast, a predator breaching their sanctuary. Peter Parker, Mad Spider, stood on a balcony overlooking the penthouse, his blood-red costume taut, the jagged black spider emblem a scar across his chest. His spider-powers—strength, agility, regeneration—hummed, but the electroshock torture's pain burned through his nerves, a relentless pulse fueling his Joker-like madness. He laughed, a wild, unhinged cackle that cut through the spire's hum, his green eyes glinting with chaotic glee. "Time to squash an uninvited bug, Gwenny!" he quipped, his Deadpool-sharp humor a flimsy shield against the ache. His webs snapped taut, ready to swing into the neon dark.
Gwen, her blonde hair tied back in a tight braid, hunched over a console, her cracked tablet synced to the spire's quantum servers, its holo-display swirling with intruder data. Her blue eyes, sharp and unyielding, tracked the signal—a cyber-augmented bounty hunter, codenamed Bullseye, known for lethal precision. "It's Bullseye," she said, her voice tense but steady, fingers flying to arm the spire's drones. "Cyber-eyes, vibro-blades, and a vendetta for Fisk. He's breached the lower levels." She glanced at Peter, her love a quiet fire that burned through her fear, her mind racing to protect their fragile family. The holo-screens cycled city feeds—bounty alerts still branded them: Mad Spider: Terrorist, Gwen Stacy: Traitor. The Iron Vipers' defeat hadn't cleared their names; it had drawn sharper blades.
Wilson Fisk, massive and scarred, limped forward, his cane tapping against the marble floor, his tailored suit dark against the neon glow filtering through the windows. His face, crisscrossed with scars, bore the weight of old wars—shrapnel from a rival's bomb, a leg that ached with every step. "Bullseye's a ghost from my past," he rumbled, his voice gravelly but resolute, pain flaring as he gripped his cane tighter. "He wants my head. Protect the spire, Spider." Peter's grin was feral, his spider-senses buzzing with danger. "Ghosts bleed, big guy. Let's give him a Mad Spider welcome." He webbed to the ceiling, his laughter echoing, a mix of chaos and defiance.
Flashback: At 17, Peter endured Oscorp's torture rig, electric shocks searing his nerves, his screams drowned by scientists' laughter. Gwen's hidden signal—a coded beep from her stolen tablet—kept him sane: I'm here. Survive. That defiance drove him now, his pain a fuel for the fight ahead. He swung down to the spire's lower levels, where Bullseye's intrusion triggered alarms, red lights pulsing like a heartbeat. The hunter, sleek and cybernetic, moved like a shadow, his eyes glowing red, vibro-blades spinning in his hands. "Fisk's pet spider," Bullseye sneered, his voice a metallic hiss. "You're worth a fortune dead."
Peter laughed, a chilling sound, and launched himself forward, webs snapping like crimson whips. He dodged a blade that sliced the air, grazing his arm, regeneration kicking in as blood welled and sealed. "Bad aim, buddy!" he taunted, slamming a web into Bullseye's chest, yanking him into a wall. The hunter's cyber-eyes adjusted, locking on, and he hurled a blade with pinpoint accuracy, pinning Peter's webbing to a pillar. Peter's pain flared, a white-hot spike, but his madness surged, driving him to fight harder. He flipped over a railing, webs binding Bullseye's arm, his punches a chaotic storm. "You picked the wrong family to mess with!" he growled, his laughter wild as he smashed Bullseye into a server bank, sparks flying.
Gwen, upstairs, redirected drones, their lasers strafing Bullseye's position, forcing him to retreat. Her tablet sparked, hacking his cyber-eyes, feeding false visuals to disorient him. "Keep him pinned, Peter!" she shouted through comms, her voice a lifeline. Fisk limped to a control panel, overriding the spire's turrets, his strength unyielding despite chronic pain. "He's targeting me," Fisk said, his voice raw. "Draw him out." Peter's webs snared Bullseye's legs, but the hunter broke free, a blade slashing Peter's side, deeper this time. Regeneration strained, blood soaking his costume, and Peter staggered, his laughter broken, madness teetering. "Gotta work on that aim!" he gasped, webbing Bullseye's face, blinding him momentarily.
Bullseye lunged for Fisk, blades aimed at his heart, but Peter swung in, taking the hit—a vibro-blade piercing his shoulder, pain exploding. He laughed through it, webs yanking Bullseye back, slamming him into the floor, bones crunching. "Not today, tin-eyes!" Peter roared, his regeneration pushed to the limit, blood pooling as he pinned the hunter. Gwen's drones fired, disabling Bullseye's augments, and Fisk's cane cracked across his skull, ending the fight. The hunter lay still, his cyber-eyes dark, defeated but alive.
Peter collapsed, pain overwhelming, his vision blurring. Gwen was at his side, her ritual beginning—hands pressed to his temples, fingers tracing his scars, soothing the burning nerves. "You're enough, Peter," she whispered, tears glinting, her love an obsessive tether. Peter's eyes, wild with madness, softened, his laughter raw but warm. "Always, Gwenny," he murmured, regeneration slowly knitting his wounds. Fisk watched, his scarred face etched with respect, his cane steady. "You saved me, Spider," he said, voice heavy with gratitude. "You're more than a brother—you're my strength." Peter grinned, weak but defiant. "Just don't ask me to do it again tomorrow."
Gwen's tablet pinged, a file surfacing from Bullseye's augments—a fragment of Fisk's past, coded deals from his Kingpin days, a name: Vanessa. "There's more to your story, Fisk," Gwen said, her voice cautious. Fisk's eyes darkened, a ghost of pain crossing his face. "There always is," he murmured, his hand trembling.
Cliffhanger: The holo-screen flares, revealing a coded message tied to Vanessa, hinting at Fisk's buried secrets. Outside, Viper signals spike—Scorpion's army stirs, ready to exploit the spire's breach.