Smoke poured like a ghost from the ruined buildings. Ash drifted through the sky, falling over shattered rooftops and burning cars. Sirens had stopped. There was no time for alarms anymore.
Just survival.
A mechanical growl echoed through the concrete canyon.
THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
Skorpion-X advanced through the street like a beast of war—ten feet tall, steel legs slamming into the cracked pavement. Its segmented armor flexed like muscle, plated in a violet sheen. Its tail arched over its back, humming with plasma energy.
The lens on its head flickered red.
"TARGET LOCKED. SCAN COMPLETE. REBELS DETECTED."
Behind a crumbling van, three teenage rebels huddled close.
"Trey and Arlo!"
They were twin brothers, built like linebackers, both with buzzed hair and matching scars across their brows.
And crouched between them—
Milo, the youngest. Lanky. Tech-wired fingers. A glowing cybernetic scanner flickering across his right eye.
"That thing is awesome…" Milo whispered, awe shining in his voice.
"You'll be awesome when you're flat," Trey growled, shoving him back.
"BROTHER!!" Arlo yelled, pinned under the metal frame of a street sign.
Trey lunged, grabbing his arm just as Skorpion-X's tail shot forward—
KRRAAASH!
The wall behind Arlo exploded.
Concrete dust filled the air.
"MOVE!" Trey shouted.
He rolled his twin behind a car as Milo tried to power his glove cannon.
"Come on—come on—just one EMP pulse—"
But his fingers twitched. The charge failed.
"ENERGY THREAT DETECTED," Skorpion-X's voice boomed.
"NEUTRALIZATION INITIATED."
The plasma tail snapped toward Milo—
"...Oh sh—"
Then—
CRASH.
Something slammed into the bot's face.
It stumbled. Metal screeched as it collided with a lamppost, sparks flying.
The teens blinked.
A figure landed in front of them.
He rose slowly tall, armored in deep crimson and black. A sharp white spider emblem glowed across his chest. Steam hissed from vents in his gauntlets. His mask, sleek and angular, turned toward the enemy.
Spider-Man.
"You kids alright?" the voice asked—filtered, calm, focused.
(That voice… so steady. So not afraid. Who the hell is this guy?)
Trey blinked.
"Uh… yeah?"
Milo's eyepiece sparked.
"SUBJECT IDENTIFIED," Skorpion-X's voice crackled, whirring as it recalibrated.
"SPIDER-MAN. PRIORITY TARGET. COMMENCE ERADICATION."
Peter braced.
(Okay. Big. Fast. Plasma core. Adaptive armor. This isn't a street fight—this is a war machine.)
The tail fired.
Peter ducked, slid under it, and fired a web-line mid-spin—
THWIP!
He launched himself into the air, twisted, and SLAMMED both feet into the bot's chest, sending it toppling into a streetlight with a metal clang.
Peter flipped midair, landing in a crouch.
"You're loud, ugly, and way too high-tech for your own good."
The bot snapped its claws forward—
CLANG!
Peter blocked it with his gauntlet, sparks flaring. His right palm began to glow.
(That's the energy pulse again—like the first day I got powers. Let's try it now.)
He pressed it against the bot's armor—
ZRRRAAAK!!
A pulse of blue energy surged outward. The Skorpion-X staggered, systems stuttering.
"WARNING: CORE DESTABILIZING."
Peter jumped back.
"Yeah, you better warn yourself."
Back behind cover, Milo whispered:
"He just… overloaded it. Holy crap."
Trey grinned.
"Okay. I like this guy."
Arlo, catching his breath, added:
"We might actually live."
But the fight wasn't over.
Skorpion-X's core spun up. Its tail split open—
"ENGAGING FINAL MODE."
The armor expanded. Extra limbs unfolded from the sides. Plasma cannons rotated from its back. It roared with digitized fury.
Peter's eyes narrowed behind the lenses.
(Alright. So we're playing serious now.)
He tapped a small device on his belt.
"Deploying Drone-Spider."
A small orb detached from his back and flew upward, scanning the bot's armor.
"TARGET WEAKNESS: EXPOSED ENERGY CAPACITOR, LOWER ABDOMEN."
Peter smirked.
"Gotcha."
He launched forward webbing the nearest wall, swinging low, and dodging plasma blasts that tore through cars and pavement.
Skorpion-X fired—BOOM! BOOM!
Peter dodged through flames, jumped over wreckage, and at the last second—
SLAMMED his glowing palm into the weak point.
A blinding light.
BOOOOMMMM!!
The explosion ripped the bot from the inside. Its tail shot skyward before crashing down like a dying animal.
Sparks and metal flew.
And then… silence.
Just smoke.
..
Meanwhile A few blocks away…
A rugged military truck screeched to a halt beside the broken subway overpass.
Harry Osborn stepped out first, tightening the grip on his modified blaster. The wind tugged at his coat. Behind him followed Frank Castle, the Punisher, serious, grim, carrying a massive rifle and Robin, the scar-faced rebel with the sharp tongue.
They looked ahead at the smoke curling into the darkening sky.
Robin muttered, low and sarcastic.
"So… your friend Peter. He's really alive? Not a clone or robot like those Star Wars weirdos?"
Harry didn't look at him.
"No. It's not what you think. He's real. It's really Peter."
Robin raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, okay. I mean—I'm jealous, alright? The guy swings from buildings and calls himself 'Spider-Man'? Because he can shoot webs like a spider? And he's a man? So… Spider-Man?"
Harry finally turned, deadpan.
"Can we focus on the mission, please?"
Frank grunted.
"Less talk. More walking. Let's go."
They started toward the epicenter of the battle, weapons ready, eyes sharp.
..
Back at the Ruins of District 6
Peter leaned against a twisted traffic pole as his drone retracted back into his armor. The kids crowded near him, buzzing with excitement.
"Dude, you have to show us how to do that flip," Arlo said.
"And that palm-blast," added Trey.
"Was that a new kind of Stark tech? Or some homemade Iron Spider stuff?"
Peter smirked behind the mask.
"It's just me. Built it in a basement with scrap and memory."
(Well, Peter's memory. But still counts.)
Suddenly, his spider-sense tingled.
He turned.
Footsteps.
A familiar voice called out:
"PETER!"
"Harry.!"
Peter stood upright as Harry, Robin, and Frank approached through the dust.
Harry's face was somewhere between disbelief and relief.
Peter gave him a nod.
"Took you long enough."
Harry stepped forward.
"You're hurt."
Peter shrugged.
"You should see the other guy."
They both chuckled.
Robin looked at the teens.
"This the next generation, they be fine"
Milo grinned. "Damn right we are."
Frank said nothing but he gave Peter a slight nod.
That was enough.
Peter looked around at the people gathered now—soldiers, kids, rebels, survivors. For once, they were all looking at him not with fear… but hope.
(Alright… this is real. I'm here. And I've got a war to fight.)
(Let's make Peter Parker proud.)
Frank then said "We need to move."
And somewhere far from this street Scorpia watched through her drones, eyes burning with rage.
…
[Scorpia Side]
As Metallic claws scraped the floor.
Monitors flickered in red and orange hues. Dozens of screens played back footage from the battle Spider-Man flipping, blasting, and finishing Skorpion-X in a blaze of energy.
Smoke still clouded the screen, but the figure in red and black stood tall.
Unbroken.
Victorious.
Scorpia stood at the center of her control chamber. Her claws twitched at her sides, fingertips glinting with micro-serrated blades. The walls were lined with partially constructed drones each more vicious than the last. Sparks rained down from above as robotic arms worked tirelessly.
She watched the screen, jaw clenched, teeth grinding.
"Tsk..."
A twitch. A clawed finger jabbed the screen.
"Even my Skorpion-X couldn't kill him. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk."
She turned away and smashed a wrench across the workbench. Tools clattered to the floor.
(How... how is he still alive?)
Scorpia stormed toward the edge of the room where a blackened pod pulsed with green and purple circuitry.
She placed her hand against its surface. A low hum answered her.
"You're just like her..." she hissed under her breath.
Scorpia's eyes narrowed, slitted like a serpent's.
She turned to the surveillance console and brought up a magnified freeze-frame of Peter—mask on, suit battle-worn but glowing.
"Spider-Man..."
She tapped her clawed fingers on the glass, a rhythm like ticking time bombs.
"I'm going to dissect you. Piece. By. Piece."
She slammed a button.
A screen to her right flashed: "PROJECT: SPINNERET – ONLINE."
Dozens of small, spider-like drones began to crawl out of the shadows—mechanical arachnids with glowing red eyes and hypodermic legs.
"Let's see how you handle my spiders."
She grinned.
Her jaw twitched half metal, half flesh.
"Let's show this city what evolution looks like."
To be continue