BOOM!
The sky over the north tower of the Central Park building abruptly darkened. Black clouds gathered unnaturally fast. Thunder roared, and then—without warning—a torrential downpour exploded from the heavens.
But it only covered one block.
Bobbi Morse barely had time to look up before she was absolutely drenched. The sudden deluge soaked her blonde hair and clung to her athletic frame, outlining the stealth suit hidden beneath her casual clothes.
If anyone else had been nearby, it would've been quite the sight. But she was alone.
"Damn it," she hissed.
With practiced ease, Bobbi pulled a compact handle from her side pouch. It extended automatically into a sleek black umbrella — SHIELD-issued, of course. Waterproof, windproof, and even bullet-resistant. Still, it didn't stop her scowl.
"Did the atmospheric analysts fall asleep on the job?" she muttered as she tilted the umbrella over her head.
The weather data she'd received before leaving showed clear skies. She had double-checked it herself just moments ago.
That's when she heard it.
KRK-KRKRKK—BOOM.
The thunder rolled again, this time louder. Flashes of lightning flickered between clouds like electric snakes slithering above her.
Bobbi's eyes narrowed. That wasn't normal lightning.
Something was wrong.
And then—
CRACK!
A thin bolt of electricity stabbed down from the clouds, splitting the air in a brilliant flash. It struck the sidewalk barely a foot away from her boots, leaving a black scorch mark that steamed in the rain.
Bobbi froze, eyes wide.
"…Watt the hell?!"
...
Elsewhere, above —
Inside his penthouse gallery, Jack Kadere leaned back against the headboard of the oversized bed, a sketchpad in hand, pencil gliding across the page with rhythmic precision.
"Teacher~ why're you smiling like that?" Skye asked playfully.
She had discarded her long coat and was lounging on the bed in a tank top and shorts, typing on her laptop with her knees bent up beneath her.
Jack didn't answer immediately.
"Just thinking of something funny," he said as he shaded in the last of a drawing.
Skye peered over. "You're drawing it, aren't you?"
She leaned on one elbow and stretched to see.
On the sketchpad was a very familiar-looking woman — drenched in rain, hair plastered to her face, leaping away from streaks of lightning like she was caught in a storm of divine judgment.
"Wait a minute…" Skye laughed. "You heard that thunder just now and this was your inspiration?"
"Something like that," Jack said with a smirk.
He flipped to a new sheet and began sketching again. This time, the pencil moved faster — bold lines forming a reclining figure. A woman lying on her side, arm propped up, peering curiously out of the frame.
As the shape became more defined, Skye's eyes went wide.
"Hey! That's—me?!"
She lunged for the sketchpad, blushing furiously.
The figure was nude.
"Jack!" she shrieked. "Don't draw me like that! Seriously—don't tremble your pencil at me! o(≧口≦)o"
Jack laughed and angled the sketchpad away from her reach. "Relax, Skye. I always draw the figure first. I'll dress you in a second."
"Yeah, sure you will."
She huffed and fell back onto the bed, covering her face with the pillow.
A few moments later, Jack added a few strokes — a loose tunic, some shorts — and held it up. "See? Modest and tasteful."
She peeked.
"…Okay," she muttered, "but don't show this to anyone. Especially guys."
Jack smiled and tore the sketch out of the pad. "Then here. Take it. It's yours now. Frame it, burn it, stash it away like a scandalous secret."
"Hmph." She pretended to scoff but gently took the paper. "Like I'd destroy it. I'm totally framing this when I get back."
....
Jack leaned over to peek at her laptop screen.
"Nice," he said. "You got in."
The data stream flowing on the screen confirmed it: Skye had breached a military-grade server.
"Whoa, you hacked into a U.S. Army database? That's gutsy."
She blinked. "How are you reading this so fast?"
"Visual decoding," Jack said, tapping at a few keys. "And this… is interesting."
One file folder caught his eye: Project Hulk.
He clicked in. Reports. Satellite data. Something about South America and a heat signature matching Bruce Banner's physiology.
"Looks like Ross chased Banner all the way to the favelas," Jack muttered. "Stark and Banner might be on a collision course soon."
...
Skye stretched and looked out the window.
"Jack, your place is perfect. You should open a club branch here. Ghost Spider might actually stop by if we had a rooftop hangout spot."
Jack rubbed his chin. "Not a bad idea. Spider-based heroes do love high ground."
Still, he'd need a source of income for that.
While he wasn't short on money, he wasn't interested in becoming a full-time businessman either. The ideal scenario? Passive income. Lots of it.
If only his summoned version of Norman Osborn wasn't just a combat drone with zero personality. He could've used the Osborn Group for serious cash flow.
...
Beep—
His phone vibrated.
Jessica.
[Jack! I contacted Ghost Spider!! She agreed to meet at the club! You're the VP! You'd better be ready — and bring a gift!!]
A message full of exclamation points, as always.
Jack blinked. "Gwen agreed to meet as Ghost Spider?"
This was moving fast.
He frowned thoughtfully. Jessica was getting a little too excited about this whole superhero idol club thing. Still… it wasn't a bad setup.
A secret meeting with Ghost Spider.
He should probably prepare something... memorable.
"Looks like I've got a date with destiny," Jack muttered.
Skye peeked over the screen. "Did Jessica blow something up again?"
"No," Jack said, stretching his fingers. "She set me up on a blind date with a masked vigilante."
Skye snorted. "You're living the dream, Kadere."
"Let's hope I survive it."