Ethan and Peter moved swiftly through the streets, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement as they raced toward Midtown. Peter led the way, darting between alleyways and leaping over obstacles with effortless agility. Ethan, keeping pace, felt the familiar surge of his powers—his Adaption—filling him with energy. It was a strange feeling, like his body was constantly shifting, adjusting, getting stronger with each step.
The night air felt colder than usual, and the weight of their mission pressed heavily on Ethan's shoulders. Tonight wasn't just about stopping Fisk's shipment. It was about uncovering the truth. It was about vengeance. The events that had led him here—the death of his parents, the experiments, the painful transformation into someone new—had all pointed toward this moment. Kingpin had to be stopped.
As they neared the Midtown area, Peter slowed, his Spider-sense tingling. Ethan could see the tension in his movements, the way he was scanning the surroundings with sharp eyes. They were getting closer, but they weren't alone.
"Ethan," Peter whispered, his voice low but urgent. "We've got company."
Ethan narrowed his eyes, instinctively going on alert. His Adaption powers kicked in again, preparing his body for whatever came next. He could feel the tension in the air, thick with the scent of danger. He didn't know who was after them, but he knew one thing: he wasn't going to let anyone stop them now.
Out of nowhere, a sleek black SUV screeched to a halt in front of them, blocking their path. The doors swung open, and a group of well-dressed thugs stepped out, each of them armed and ready for a fight.
"Well, well, well," one of the men said with a smirk, his eyes scanning Peter and Ethan. "Looks like we've got some unwanted guests. Fisk doesn't take kindly to people snooping around."
Peter's eyes flicked to Ethan, giving him a quick nod. Without another word, he was gone, vanishing into the shadows like only Spider-Man could. Ethan, however, wasn't as fast. Instead, he took a different approach. He focused on his Adaption power, letting it flow through him, strengthening his muscles, enhancing his reflexes, and preparing him for the fight ahead.
He charged forward, using the momentum to close the gap between himself and the nearest thug. The man never saw it coming. With a swift punch, Ethan knocked him off his feet and sent him sprawling across the pavement. The others reacted quickly, but not fast enough.
The next few moments were a blur of fists, feet, and weapons. The thugs tried to bring Ethan down with their guns and batons, but his body adapted to every move, every strike. He was stronger, faster, more resilient than they could have ever anticipated. Each punch he landed seemed to land harder, his body becoming more fluid as it adjusted to the fight. He could feel his muscles stretching and reforming, adapting to whatever the situation required.
Peter, from the shadows, picked off a few more of the thugs, his webs flying through the air and incapacitating them with expert precision. The two of them worked seamlessly together—Peter using his webs and agility, Ethan using his raw strength and adaptability. It was clear that the thugs were no match for them.
But the fight was far from over.
As Ethan knocked out the last of the attackers, he noticed something strange. The remaining thugs weren't trying to fight anymore—they were running. But not in fear, not in retreat. They were running toward something, and that something was likely a bigger threat.
"Peter," Ethan called out, wiping sweat from his brow. "We've got to keep moving. They're headed for something."
Peter nodded, his expression grim. "I've got a bad feeling about this. Let's go."
Without missing a beat, the two of them took off, chasing the thugs through the winding streets. The night was still alive with energy, but now, there was a palpable sense of urgency. Peter's eyes never left the fleeing men, his Spider-sense keeping him aware of every move they made. Ethan, on the other hand, was relying on his instincts, his power of Adaption attuning him to every shift in the environment.
They rounded a corner, and there it was. A massive, steel-reinforced building loomed before them. The walls were covered with security cameras, floodlights blazing down from above. The men had stopped in front of the building and were waiting for something—or someone.
"This is it," Peter said, voice tight. "This is where Fisk's shipment is being stored."
Ethan could feel his pulse quicken. This was the moment they had been waiting for. They had to get inside and find out exactly what Fisk was up to. But there was no way they were going in unnoticed—not with the amount of security surrounding the place.
Peter quickly turned to Ethan. "We need a plan. I can get in using my webs, but we need to know what we're up against before we go charging in."
Ethan nodded, already scanning the building with his eyes. His mind was racing, his Adaption ability reacting to the building's structure, analyzing every entry point, every weak spot. There were vents along the sides, but they were too small for either of them to crawl through. The windows were reinforced, and the main door was likely locked with high-level security.
"There's a small opening in the back," Ethan said after a moment, pointing to a side alley. "We might be able to sneak in through there. It's not as well guarded."
Peter considered this for a moment before nodding. "Alright, let's move."
They made their way toward the back of the building, staying in the shadows as much as possible. The closer they got, the more Ethan could feel the tension in the air. Something was off. The quiet of the night was unnerving, and he could feel the building—its structure, its layout—like it was alive, watching them.
As they approached the back door, Peter quickly set to work, using his tools to hack into the security system. He glanced at Ethan as he worked, his eyes full of determination.
"This is it," Peter said, a sense of finality in his voice. "We get in, we find out what Fisk is really up to, and we stop him."
Ethan nodded, his jaw tightening. The more he learned about Fisk, the more he hated him. This man had ruined his life. And now, it was time for him to pay.
With a soft beep, the door clicked open.
"After you," Peter said, giving Ethan a nod.
Ethan hesitated for only a second before stepping into the darkness of the building. It was time to face whatever secrets lay inside.
The dim light inside the building cast eerie shadows against the cold concrete floor as Ethan and Peter moved cautiously through the halls. The air smelled stale, almost like it hadn't been disturbed in years. There were no sounds—no humming machinery, no bustling employees—just an unsettling silence that made the hairs on the back of Ethan's neck stand up. The place had an unnatural stillness, as if it were a tomb, hiding something far more sinister than either of them could have anticipated.
Peter held up his hand, signaling for Ethan to stop. His Spider-sense was tingling, but there was no immediate danger—just an awareness that something was out of place. Slowly, he crept forward, sticking to the shadows. Ethan followed suit, adapting his movements to match Peter's—silent, efficient, and precise.
They reached the first intersection, where they had to decide which direction to go. To the left, the hallway appeared to stretch out into darkness, with doors leading off to various rooms. To the right, there was a set of stairs descending into what appeared to be a lower level. Both paths held their own risks, but Peter's instincts told him that the deeper they went, the closer they were to finding out what Fisk was hiding.
"We go down," Peter whispered, his voice barely audible.
Ethan didn't hesitate. His body, ever-ready, began adjusting to the surroundings, fine-tuning his senses to pick up any movement, any disturbance. His power was becoming more attuned to the building—he could feel the vibrations of machinery humming beneath his feet, the subtle movements of workers far below. They weren't the only ones in this building, and that thought made Ethan's skin crawl. Whatever Fisk was hiding, it was well-guarded.
Peter moved first, his figure blending into the shadows as he descended the stairs, taking them two at a time. Ethan followed closely behind, his footfalls almost soundless on the concrete. They reached the bottom of the staircase and found themselves in a large, open space, dimly lit by harsh, fluorescent lights. The room appeared to be a storage area, filled with large crates and metallic containers, all stacked haphazardly against the walls.
"Stay low," Peter muttered. "We don't know what we're dealing with down here."
Ethan nodded, his senses on high alert. His Adaption power was active, his body already adjusting to the new environment. He could feel the changes in the air—slightly colder, heavier, as if the building was designed to hold something dangerous. The crates around them were well-secured, and there was a distinct lack of windows. Whatever was stored in this part of the building was meant to stay hidden.
As they crept deeper into the storage area, they came across a large metal door at the far end. It was heavily reinforced, with a keypad and multiple security locks. The door had the kind of weight to it that suggested it wasn't just a storage room—it was something more. Peter's gaze lingered on it for a moment, and without a word, he moved toward the keypad.
"Stay alert," he whispered, his fingers moving deftly over the security panel.
Ethan stood guard, scanning the area with his enhanced senses. He could hear the distant hum of machines, the faint click of doors opening and closing in the distance. It wasn't just security they had to worry about. This place felt like it was designed to trap people—like Fisk was expecting them.
The keypad beeped as Peter successfully hacked into the system. The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a long corridor beyond. The faint sound of voices echoed from somewhere down the hall, but they were too faint to make out.
Peter gestured for Ethan to follow, and they both slipped through the door, making their way down the narrow hallway. The walls were lined with metallic doors, each one slightly ajar, revealing nothing but darkness. The smell in the air grew more acrid as they advanced, and Ethan could feel the heat coming from somewhere deep inside the building.
"We're getting closer," Peter muttered, his voice tight with concentration. "Whatever Fisk is hiding, it's down here."
Ethan's muscles tensed. This was it. This was what he had been waiting for—the chance to finally get to the bottom of everything. The answers to his parents' death, the twisted experiments, the reason he was brought into this new life. It all led here, to Fisk's underground lair.
They passed several more doors before coming to another heavy security door, this one even more fortified than the last. Peter didn't hesitate. With his usual skill, he worked quickly, disabling the locks and gaining access. The door slid open, revealing an enormous room, far larger than anything they had encountered so far.
Inside was a large, glass-walled chamber, filled with a faint greenish glow. It was sterile, almost clinical in appearance, with rows of strange equipment lining the walls. But it was what was inside the chamber that made Ethan's breath catch in his throat.
Suspended in the center of the room was a series of large vats, each one filled with a dark, viscous liquid. Inside the vats were—bodies. Dozens of them, floating, their faces obscured by the thick liquid, but their forms unmistakable. They were all clones, genetically engineered, each one identical to the other.
Ethan's heart raced as he took in the sight. This wasn't just a weapons facility—it was a cloning operation.
"Holy—" Peter whispered, his voice trailing off in shock.
Ethan could feel his fists clenching, his body reacting to the sight. His Adaption power surged in response to the intense emotions coursing through him. This—this was why Fisk had been involved in his parents' deaths. The knowledge his parents had uncovered, the secrets they had been about to expose, had led them to this. Fisk had been working on something far more sinister than anyone could have imagined.
"This is bigger than we thought," Peter said, his voice grim. "Fisk is making clones. And they're not just any clones. These look like…"
"Like me," Ethan finished for him, his voice cold. "These are… genetic copies. And they're being created for something. But for what?"
Before Peter could respond, there was a loud noise from the far side of the room. A group of armed guards emerged from the shadows, weapons drawn. They had been expecting them.
"This is where it ends," one of the guards growled. "You're not getting out of here alive."
Peter and Ethan exchanged a quick glance. They knew what had to happen next.
Without another word, Peter lunged forward, webs flying from his wrists to disarm the nearest guard. Ethan, his body already adjusting, charged into the fray. His muscles rippled as he threw punches with devastating force, knocking the guards down one by one. His Adaption allowed him to fight with an efficiency that shocked even him. His body was growing stronger with each move, each punch, and it felt almost effortless.
Peter was quick to incapacitate the remaining guards, his webs wrapping around their limbs and pulling them to the floor. The two of them worked in perfect tandem, quickly taking out the last of the opposition.
Panting, Peter glanced at Ethan. "We can't stay here. We need to destroy this place."
Ethan nodded, his eyes still fixed on the vats. His mind was racing with questions. Why were they making clones? Was he just another one in a long line of experiments? Was he… expendable?
But there was no time for answers now. They had to get out of here before it was too late.
Ethan's mind raced as the chaos in the room calmed down. The bodies of the guards lay strewn across the floor, incapacitated by both him and Peter. The sterile lab, once cold and lifeless, now felt more like a battlefield. But despite the success in dealing with the guards, Ethan couldn't shake the images of the vats. The clones, suspended in the liquid, were the ghosts of a twisted past. And the implications—his own genetic makeup being replicated like that—sent shivers down his spine.
Peter was already moving, quickly checking the fallen guards for any important information. Ethan stood still for a moment longer, eyes still focused on the vats. He couldn't just leave without understanding why all this had been done. Why his parents had been killed. And most importantly, what role he played in all of this.
"Peter, we need to find out who's in charge of this operation," Ethan said, his voice firm, though laced with frustration. "We need to know why these clones are here. Why they've been making them."
Peter turned to face him, his face etched with determination. "I know, but we can't stay here for long. If Fisk's operation is as big as we think, more people will come."
"I'm not leaving until I know the full story," Ethan snapped. His fists clenched involuntarily, the power inside him surging again as his body adapted to the pressure of the moment. His veins buzzed with a heightened awareness of his surroundings, his instincts sharpening. "My parents died because of this. There's a bigger game here, Peter. We need to take it down."
Peter studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. But we need to move fast. Let's find the files, or anything that can tell us what Fisk's plan is. I'll cover the exits."
Ethan nodded, steeling himself for what was to come. His mind briefly flashed back to his parents—how they had died, how they'd been silenced. All because they had gotten too close to something they shouldn't have. Ethan had been a child when it happened, but the memory was still clear in his mind. The feeling of helplessness, of wanting to scream for justice but knowing it would never come.
Now, he had the power to make it come. But even with his abilities, he knew he couldn't do it alone. Peter was his only ally. He had no choice but to trust him. To go after Fisk together, and to finally find out what had happened to his family.
Peter had already moved toward the far side of the room, where a desk sat with a few scattered papers and several computers. Ethan followed, his pace quickening as his focus narrowed. He needed answers.
"Any luck?" Ethan asked as Peter sifted through the papers.
"No," Peter replied, his voice strained. "There's no immediate files here that explain anything. But these computers…" He trailed off, staring at the screens that lined the desk. "These look like they've been in use recently. Let me try something."
Ethan watched as Peter worked quickly, his fingers flying over the keyboard, his face illuminated by the glow of the screen. He had never seen Peter so focused before. It was the same determination that he saw when Peter was in his Spider-Man suit, taking on villains twice his size. There was something magnetic about his drive.
"You know, I've got to hand it to you," Ethan said, trying to keep his voice light despite the heavy atmosphere. "You sure know your way around a computer."
Peter looked up at him, smirking. "You'd be surprised what a little tech background can get you in this city."
Ethan chuckled softly. "Yeah, I know. You helped build that anti-virus app, didn't you?"
Peter grinned. "Yep. Not exactly a tech mogul, but it pays the bills. And it helps protect people, so that's a win in my book."
Ethan's expression softened. He had always known Peter was different from other people. But seeing him in action, so driven and so capable, made him realize just how much Peter had accomplished on his own. Even without the suit, he was a force to be reckoned with.
But right now, the only thing that mattered was bringing down Fisk.
"I got something," Peter suddenly muttered, his eyes scanning the screen. "There's a file here… encrypted, but it's clearly linked to Fisk's operations. It looks like it's a project code."
Ethan leaned over, looking at the screen. "What kind of project?"
Peter clicked a few more buttons, decrypting the file. It opened with a series of spreadsheets, names, and dates. Some of the text was too technical for Ethan to understand, but he could see that the project was about genetic manipulation. He recognized some of the names of scientists and companies listed in the files, some of whom were linked to shady biotech corporations. But there was one name that stood out—one that made his blood run cold.
"Dr. Franklin Trent," Ethan read aloud. "He was the lead scientist behind the cloning experiments."
Peter looked at Ethan, his brows furrowing. "Dr. Trent? That name doesn't sound familiar."
Ethan swallowed hard. The name Trent wasn't one he had forgotten. Dr. Franklin Trent had been a prominent scientist back in the day, but his work had always been on the fringe of ethical research. It was rumored that he had been involved in illegal experiments involving genetic alterations, but the details had always been vague. That was until Ethan's parents had started digging. They had uncovered something. And now, Ethan could see that it all led back to Dr. Trent.
"Dr. Trent was involved in my parents' death," Ethan muttered. "They were researching him, trying to expose his illegal experiments. Fisk was protecting him—protecting this whole operation."
Peter's eyes widened as the pieces started to fall into place. "Wait, you're telling me… your parents were going after this guy? And Fisk killed them to protect him?"
"That's exactly what I'm telling you," Ethan said, his voice tight. "Fisk's entire empire is built on these illegal genetic experiments. He's been cloning people, creating something… worse than just a regular criminal empire. This is something bigger, Peter."
Peter nodded, his expression hardening. "Then we've got to stop him. We can't let him get away with this."
Ethan didn't need to be told twice. His heart was pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had always wanted answers, but now, knowing that his parents' deaths were connected to Fisk's operations, the urgency of the moment hit him like a tidal wave. He wasn't just fighting for justice anymore—he was fighting for his family's memory, for everything they had sacrificed.
"We'll take down Fisk, together," Ethan said, his voice steady.
Peter smiled, but it was a grim smile, the kind that reflected the weight of what they were about to face. "Together."
As the two of them exchanged a brief but meaningful glance, the sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway reached their ears. Someone was coming. It wasn't just a few guards this time—they were probably the ones Fisk had sent to handle any threats.
Peter looked at Ethan. "We need to move, now."
Ethan didn't hesitate. His body was already adjusting, ready for the battle ahead. He could feel the power surging through him, growing stronger with each passing moment. His Adaption had reached new heights, and he knew he wasn't the same person who had walked into this building earlier. He was something more now—a force that would stop at nothing to bring down Fisk and expose the truth.
Peter turned to face the door. "Let's finish this."
The hallway outside the office was eerily silent for a moment before the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. Heavy, deliberate, each step a reminder that their time in this lab was running out. Ethan's instincts flared up; he could feel the changes in his body, like his cells were recalibrating themselves for a battle. His Adaption was working in overdrive, preparing him for whatever lay beyond that door.
Peter, who had already pulled on his mask and activated his suit, stood ready. His posture was tense, and though his face was hidden behind the familiar red and blue, Ethan could see the intensity in his eyes. The same intensity he had seen when Peter swung into action against thugs in the city, when Spider-Man was more than just a symbol of hope—he was a symbol of determination.
"They're coming this way," Peter whispered, scanning the corridor with his enhanced senses. "We need to find a way out. Fast."
Ethan nodded, his fingers subconsciously flexing as his body stretched and adjusted. His powers were now fully in tune with his surroundings, every muscle and bone adapting to prepare him for combat. He wasn't sure exactly what would happen next, but he could feel the tension in the air, a sense of urgency that pushed him into motion. There was no more hesitation. He had to face Fisk and end this madness once and for all.
"Do you have a plan?" Ethan asked, his voice low.
Peter took a quick glance at the door to the office they had just left, then back at Ethan. "We'll need to head to the elevator shaft. It's probably the fastest way out. I've used it before."
Ethan didn't question it. He trusted Peter implicitly. They were on the same side now, both driven by the need for justice—Ethan for his parents, Peter for all the people Fisk had hurt. They were a team now, despite the fact that they had only known each other for a short time.
As Peter made his way to the edge of the door, Ethan hesitated for a second. He looked back at the lab, feeling a pang in his chest. They hadn't even scratched the surface of the files on the computers. There was so much more to uncover, so many more layers to peel back. But that would have to wait. If they didn't get out of here now, they wouldn't have a chance to bring Fisk down. Not in the way they needed to.
With a deep breath, he followed Peter, both of them disappearing into the shadows of the corridor. They moved swiftly and silently, each step carefully calculated. Every sound amplified in Ethan's heightened senses—his Adaption was working at full capacity now. It wasn't just his muscles and bones that were changing, but his mind was adapting, too, to this new environment, to the ever-shifting game of survival they had found themselves in.
The elevator shaft was only a few doors down, and they reached it in record time. Peter checked the area around them before slipping through the access door, leading the way. The small maintenance room was barely big enough for both of them, but they squeezed inside, trying to stay hidden as best as they could.
Peter's hands quickly went to the elevator controls, but the electronic panel didn't respond as he expected. "This isn't good," Peter muttered under his breath. "They've locked down the system. We're going to have to climb."
Ethan felt the tension in the air grow thicker. The door to the maintenance room creaked slightly as it started to open, and Ethan's Adaption kicked in, his senses sharpening. His mind whirred as his body prepared for another possible fight.
"Get ready," Peter said quietly. "We need to move fast."
But before either of them could make a move, the door opened wide.
Standing in the doorway was a figure—a hulking figure, clad in black tactical armor. It was one of Fisk's elite enforcers. This was no ordinary henchman. This was someone who had been trained to deal with threats like them. Someone who had the power and skill to hold his own.
The man didn't speak, but the sheer weight of his presence filled the room. He was armed with high-tech gear, a large rifle slung over his back, and a massive blade strapped to his side. His mask was pure black, covering all but his eyes—eyes that glinted with cold calculation.
"Time's up," the enforcer growled, stepping forward with the confidence of a predator. "Fisk doesn't take kindly to intruders."
Peter was already moving, flipping over the enforcer with the grace of someone who had spent years in his suit, but the enforcer wasn't so easily outmaneuvered. He spun on his heel, bringing his rifle up just as Peter landed. Before the weapon could discharge, Ethan was there.
He moved with an almost inhuman fluidity, his body adapting to the danger in an instant. The enforcer's gunfire rang out, but Ethan was already there, grabbing the rifle and twisting it out of the man's hands before he could fire. With one swift motion, he threw the rifle across the room, his enhanced strength taking the man off guard.
The enforcer swung at him with a vicious backhand, but Ethan was faster. He ducked under the strike, his body instinctively adjusting to the trajectory of the blow. In a blur of movement, he drove his elbow into the man's stomach, sending him staggering back. The enforcer tried to recover, but Ethan was already on top of him, using his adaptability to twist the man's arm behind his back in a lock.
The enforcer grunted, struggling, but his strength was no match for Ethan's enhanced abilities. Ethan's Adaption was perfect for moments like this—every movement, every strike calculated to take down an opponent with minimal effort. The enforcer's resistance slowly faded as Ethan tightened his grip.
Peter, watching the entire exchange with wide eyes, took a step forward. "Damn. I knew you were good, but—"
Ethan didn't even acknowledge the comment, his focus entirely on the enforcer. With a final, swift motion, he twisted the man's arm, forcing him to drop to his knees. He was knocked out cold within moments, slumped against the wall.
Peter blinked a few times, clearly impressed. "That was… fast."
Ethan looked down at the unconscious enforcer and exhaled slowly. His body had adapted quickly, and though it hadn't taken long, he was still breathing heavily. The adrenaline was high, but it was beginning to wane. The longer he fought, the more his body adjusted to the strain. That was the beauty of his power—it never stopped, always evolving with every challenge.
"Let's move," Ethan said, looking at Peter. "We don't have much time."
Peter nodded, pulling himself together. "You're right. Let's get out of here before more of Fisk's goons show up."
Together, they moved quickly down the hallway, making their way toward the elevator. But even as they reached the shaft, Ethan could feel something else in the air—something ominous, something more than just the simple threat of Fisk's guards.
As they reached the elevator doors, Peter looked at Ethan, his expression serious. "This is bigger than we thought. Fisk's empire is dangerous, but there's something more going on here. We need to find out exactly what's in those files."
Ethan nodded, his jaw tightening. "And we will. We'll take Fisk down, Peter. No matter what it takes."