Ten thousand meters above New York City, a red-and-gold armored figure hovered steadily amid the clouds. Inside the sleek exosuit, a calm male voice spoke:
"Jarvis, report on the anti-freeze system."
A synthesized voice replied instantly,
"All systems are fully operational, sir. Arc reactor output is stable."
The man inside was none other than the world-renowned Tony Stark—Iron Man. From the moment he publicly revealed his identity to the world, Tony had become a global icon: billionaire genius, inventor, and superhero.
A man with no mutations or special powers, yet his mind and technology had elevated him to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with gods and legends. Among Earth's defenders, Iron Man was one of its titans.
That said, Tony Stark was also very much… Tony Stark. Even now, while flying in the stratosphere, he was thinking less about saving the world and more about which late-night party he should attend next.
"Everything's fine then?" he said, stretching lazily in his seat. "Good. Time to head home and prep for the night. I've got three Iron Man fan events waiting for me."
Jarvis's calm tone cut through his daydreams.
"I'm afraid those events will have to wait, sir."
A screen appeared inside the helmet, showing a live feed of a chaotic battle raging below—Spider-Man and a metallic figure locked in combat amid a narrow alleyway.
"I believe you may need to intervene before this escalates further."
Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Great. I'm not exactly the best at handling teenagers. That's Pepper's department."
Still, duty was duty. With a deep exhale, he reoriented his thrusters and shot downward toward the city like a comet of fire and steel.
---
Meanwhile, down below, Marcus and Spider-Man's fight had reached its peak.
Spider-Man was climbing rapidly, firing webs upward to accelerate his ascent toward the rooftop. By keeping to higher ground, he made sure Marcus couldn't use his devastating Blade Vortex again. That technique relied on gravity and rotational force—without the drop from above, Marcus couldn't achieve the necessary momentum.
As long as Spider-Man stayed in motion and out of reach, victory was his.
"Out of tricks yet, metal man?"
Spider-Man glanced down, grinning behind his mask, taunting his opponent as he climbed. But to his surprise, Marcus leapt up after him—close enough that their eyes met midair. His left arm morphed into a blade, slashing horizontally toward Spider-Man's legs.
Spider-Man twisted easily out of reach, guided by his Spider-Sense, and even had time to pull a face in mock triumph.
"Close, but no cigar! You'll have to do better than that!"
Marcus narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong, little spider? Too scared to hit back?"
Spider-Man chuckled. "Nice try. You're just waiting for me to slip up, huh? Sorry, pal—if I don't attack, I don't leave any openings. I could dance around you all day if I wanted."
And he wasn't wrong.
The Spider-Sense was a sixth sense of danger, but it wasn't infallible. When Spider-Man attacked, he had to move, to commit—and that was when he became vulnerable. Many martial artists and skilled fighters had exploited this before. But now, having learned from experience, Peter wasn't going to take that risk.
He would stay on defense, wait Marcus out, and win by exhaustion.
A formidable opponent indeed.
Even realizing Spider-Man's plan, Marcus's expression didn't change. He wasn't an expert fighter by any means—he had no confidence in exploiting combat openings. No, his only chance lay in the new move he'd been building toward since the fight began.
Spider-Man, still confident, called out, "You look beat, metal man! You can't last much longer. Me? I could do this all day!"
Marcus didn't answer. The system's voice did it for him.
[Warning: Remaining bio-energy20%.]
This is it.
Marcus's last chance.
He slashed with his left blade at Spider-Man's feet, forcing the hero to react instinctively. As expected, Peter fired a web to the opposite wall and swung across the alley, gracefully flipping through the air.
Marcus bent his legs, launching himself from the wall in pursuit—both men now soaring between the buildings. He thrust his right fist forward, aiming straight for Spider-Man's heart.
But he was just a fraction too slow.
Spider-Man was already past him, his body moving faster, lighter. Marcus's punch sliced through empty air, unable to reach.
Then, at that exact moment—
The Spider-Sense screamed.
Peter's mind went white with alarm. Every nerve in his body shrieked of imminent death. He tightened his grip on the web, ready to swing away at the first sign of danger—
And saw Marcus staring straight at him, eyes cold, calm, unblinking.
The young man's voice cut through the rush of wind, low and sharp as steel.
"Fire—Gunslinger!"
Marcus's right arm transformed in an instant—metal shifting, folding, and reshaping into a blade that grew from the tip outward. The blade didn't swing—it shot forward.
A spring-loaded explosion of kinetic power drove it forth with impossible speed.
The blade tip broke the sound barrier with a thunderous crack.
A supersonic thrust!
In Spider-Man's perception, time shattered.
The world slowed to a crawl.
He could see it—the shockwave rippling through the air, the distortion around the blade as it pierced the sound barrier. He could even feel the vibration in the air before it reached him.
But his body wouldn't move.
His mind screamed commands to dodge, but his muscles refused to respond. The body couldn't keep up with what the Spider-Sense perceived.
That was the difference between instinct and reality—between knowing and surviving.
Then came the pain.
A white-hot flash tore through his chest as the blade punched through his suit, through his ribs, and deep into his heart.
The world snapped back into motion. The echo of the sonic boom followed a heartbeat later.
Spider-Man gasped, his body convulsing midair as blood splattered across the wall behind him.
And Marcus, panting heavily, his arm still extended, stood beneath the drifting echo of the strike that had broken the sound barrier.
For the first time in the entire battle—Spider-Man's Spider-Sense had failed him.