Chapter 10: The Absolutely Amazing Spiderman.
Advance Chapters on P@treon.com/Saintbarbido. Next Book:- Absolute King.
(Peter's P.O.V)
Prowler's voice cut through the dark like a blade.
"Electro—get down here! The rest of you, eyes open. He's coming."
I was already there.
They just hadn't looked high enough.
Glass shattered above them—skylight exploding inward as the glider tore through the ceiling, scattering shards across the pool deck in a rain of glittering chaos.
I heard the shout.
"Let loose!"
Prowler's gauntlets lit up. Purple sound cannons fired in wide arcs, sonic waves cracking tiles, shattering pool lights.
Sandman erupted behind him, launching a barrage of dust and stone like shrapnel. Shocker stepped forward, arms flaring, each blast timed like a drumbeat meant to kill.
And then Electro dropped in.
A flash of blue light.
A snap of ozone.
Pure lightning.
All of it—every blast, every yell—lit up the room as the lights snapped back on.
But they weren't aiming at me.
They were aiming at the glider.
It crashed into the far wall and detonated in a bright, concussive burst of flame and smoke. A beautiful mess of sparks and metal, and more importantly, noise.
Prowler shouted something—too late.
I pulled the trigger, target aimed.
The EMP rig on my shoulder fired with a high-pitched whine and a pulse of pure white-blue light.
It hit them square.
Prowler and Electro flew back, tossed like rag dolls into the pool. Electricity arced wild. The second Electro hit water, he screamed—raw, inhuman, body convulsing with uncontrolled surges.
Prowler reached for the edge—but Electro's charge hit him too.
They both screamed.
Then vanished beneath the water in a sizzling explosion of steam.
And then there were 4.
Sandman, Shocker, Scorpion, and Rhino turned toward me—rage in motion.
I deactivated the repulsor mount and jumped, flipping onto the ceiling, sticking to it.
Shockwave blasts hammered upward behind me.
Chunks of concrete burst around me.
I ran sideways, feet slapping against steel panels, dodging wide sprays of sand and shock blasts that melted the light fixtures above.
Every second, every twitch of movement, counted. I let all my decisions rest on Spider Sense.
A shockwave hit behind me, shaking the frame. Ceiling slabs cracked and fell.
Below me, Gwen screamed.
"Peter!"
My name—cut through everything else.
I dropped—fast—just in time to meet the ceiling about to crush them both.
Four mechanical limbs deployed from my back in a hiss of pressure.
I caught the slab mid-fall, webs firing instinctively to hold the mass together as I spun it, twisting the concrete into a ball, my arms straining.
I heard the stomp.
The roar.
Rhino charged.
With a heave, I swung the web-wrapped chunk like a bat and smashed it into him.
It hit dead-center in his armored gut, lifted him clean off his feet and sent him crashing through the side wall in a blur of metal, concrete, and broken glass. All the way outside.
The building groaned. Support beams trembled. Tiles split.
I landed near Gwen and May.
"You okay?" I gasped, chest burning.
Gwen nodded, arms wrapped around May—but before she could answer, her face twisted just as my head buzzed in warning.
"Peter—watch out!"
I turned—too late.
A sand fist the size of a wrecking ball was already mid-swing.
I could dodge.
I could save myself.
But Gwen and May were right behind me. That sand fist wasn't stopping.
So I didn't move out of the way.
I faced it head on.
Feet planted, I clenched my hand into a fist—and pulled everything inward. Venom crackled through my nerves, bio-electricity dancing in gold arcs up my arm. My suit lit from within.
Then I let it go.
The punch hit the sand fist dead-center.
Golden lightning burst like a thunderclap. The entire limb detonated into a cloud of scorched glass particles, and Sandman's torso got clipped by the shockwave. He stumbled back, chunks of his midsection blasted away, struggling to hold shape.
I turned to Gwen. "Hold on to May!"
She didn't ask. She just did.
I fired two webs—one to the left, one to the right of Sandman—and launched myself like a slingshot, feet aimed square for his chest.
My boots hit solid.
He flew.
Backwards.
Straight into the pool.
The water lit up with the last of Electro's lingering current—and Sandman screamed. Or maybe that was just the boiling sludge left behind as his body collapsed into mud and dissolved into the water.
Didn't matter.
I was airborne again—just long enough to feel something slam into my side.
A shockwave.
I spun, flipped, hit the edge of the glass wall, and went crashing out of the building.
Mid-fall, I caught a webline, swung hard around, back toward the breach.
From the outside, I saw Shocker. Smiling.
And he was pointing at Gwen.
At May.
Then he nodded at Scorpion.
"Grab 'em."
Scorpion moved.
And Shocker? He started monologuing.
"Five million," he said, like it was a joke. "That's what Kingpin put on your head. You wanna know what your kid's worth?"
I didn't let him finish. Anger clouded my mind, sharpening my focus instead of derailing it.
With a swing, I came flying in from the opposite side—shattering the window as I rocketed toward them.
Scorpion was inches from Gwen when I stomped him into the floor.
The impact cracked the tile and dropped him through to the level below, his scream echoing down with him.
Shocker backed up, gauntlets glowing. "Y- you idiot! You're too late. Full charge this time—meat confetti for all of you!"
He fired.
But his arms didn't lift.
He looked down.
I'd already webbed his hands together.
The shockwave detonated inward.
His scream was worse than Scorpion's. His own gauntlets tore through his hands, shredding bone.
He dropped. Twitched.
I walked up to him, breathing hard.
"You talk too much."
One last venom blast—just enough to knock him out cold.
He slumped into unconsciousness.
Silence.
Nothing moved.
I looked around.
Prowler—gone possibly drowned. Electro—fried. Sandman—liquid sludge. Rhino—missing. Scorpion—KO'd below. Shocker—snoring.
They were all down.
I pulled off my mask.
Gwen and May didn't say a word.
They just slammed into me.
Gwen threw her arms around my neck. May wrapped her tiny arms around my chest. I felt both of them trembling, and only then did I realize—so was I.
"I'm so glad you're safe," I whispered. "Are you hurt? Is anything broken? May, sweetie, talk to me—"
Gwen grabbed my face. "Peter, stop. We're okay."
Then she broke.
Tears fell. Shoulders shaking. "You were the one fighting all of them. You almost died."
I lowered my head. "I'm sorry. For everything. I should've told you. I should've kept you safe. It's my fault they even—"
She cut me off with a kiss. Quick. Desperate.
When we broke apart, May made a face.
"Ew!"
That got us both to laugh.
Not long. Just enough.
"Let's get you out of here. Hold on."
I told them, carefully carrying them out of the building with a web swing.
My feet landed first on the rooftop of the building on the other side of the block.
We separated and I handed Gwen my phone.
"Felicia's tracking it. Stay here. She'll find you."
Gwen frowned. "Where are you going?"
I looked behind at Kingpin's skyscraper, past the ruined floor, to the top of the tower. The penthouse.
"Ending it."
She didn't stop me.
But just before I stepped off the ledge, she grabbed my hand.
"Go kick ass, Spider-Man."
(General P.O.V)
The wind over Kamar-Taj whispered like a warning.
Candles flickered, dimmed, then flared again as if gasping.
Dr. Stephen Strange stood at the edge of the meditation chamber, one hand hovering above a rune-scarred bowl of water. The surface didn't ripple—it fractured.
He stared into the breaks—lines of energy splitting apart like glass under pressure.
Something was pushing through.
Not from space. From underneath.
"Something's coming," Strange said to no one in particular, his voice sharp. "And it isn't subtle."
He moved, his red cloak sweeping behind him.
"I need to find the entry point. Fast. Before less subtle others do."
The air before him sparked—a portal forming.
-0-
Hundreds of miles away, in a forgotten stretch of Arizona desert, a seedy motel pulsed with heat.
Inside Room 6, a man in the bed twitched.
Sweat rolled down his bare chest.
His hands clenched.
In his sleep, he screamed—but no sound came out.
The dream was fire.
A nightmare of fire and chains.
The man, Johnny Blaze snapped awake—just in time to burst into flame.
Bones replaced flesh. The skull blackened, scorched, and ignited with red-orange flame.
The Ghost Rider sat upright in the burning room, smoke curling off the bedframe.
He didn't move.
Didn't even look around.
Just stared forward through burning sockets.
"...Mephisto."
-0-
In the sky above Manhattan, a SHIELD Quinjet cut a silent path through cloud and wind.
Felicia Hardy sat at the front, arms crossed, mask pulled back. Her eyes were locked on the top of Fisk Tower, where all hell had broken loose just ten minutes ago.
Behind her, Gwen stood at the rear viewport, hands pressed to the glass. Below them, the city glowed. But her eyes were on the penthouse.
"Do you think he'll be okay?"
Felicia didn't answer right away. Then she smiled a little.
"Gwen. C'mon. He's the Absolutely Amazing Spider-Man."
She didn't get to finish that thought.
Because the top of Fisk Tower exploded.
But not with debris.
With light.
A narrow, focused beam of red fire shot into the sky like a spear. It didn't fade—it ripped open.
A jagged hole formed above the building—glowing with layered rings, writhing like a wound.
And then... they came through.
Not aliens. Not gods.
Demons.
Wings and claws and flame. Some flew. Others skittered down the building like spiders. The sky filled with howls and smoke.
Felicia's eyes widened.
"...Crap," she muttered. "I take it back."