The massive exosuit stood in their path like an iron wall, the red glow of its visor casting an ominous light through the smoke-filled loading bay. It was at least seven feet tall, covered in reinforced armor plating, and its mechanized arms hummed with a faint whirring sound, signaling its powerful servos.
Ethan exhaled slowly. "Well… that's intimidating."
Peter cracked his neck. "I hate when bad guys get budget increases."
The exosuit's voice boomed through its speakers.
"Surrender immediately."
Peter shook his head. "Yeah, see, we would—but we don't really trust people who try to kill us."
Ethan narrowed his eyes. His body was already adapting—his muscles twitching, his senses sharpening. He could feel the exosuit's threat level, his instincts screaming that it was a serious problem.
The exosuit took a step forward, the ground shaking beneath its weight.
Peter glanced at Ethan. "So, you got a plan?"
Ethan rolled his shoulders. "Yeah. Don't die."
Peter sighed. "Not exactly reassuring."
The exosuit lunged, its massive arm swinging in a brutal arc.
Peter flipped backward, narrowly avoiding the strike as it crashed into the concrete, sending chunks of debris flying.
Ethan rolled to the side, using the moment to close the distance—his instincts pushing him to move faster.
The exosuit turned toward him, its visor scanning.
"Adapting to enemy combat pattern."
Ethan's heart pounded. Oh, great. This thing adapts too?
Peter shot out a web at the exosuit's head, but it reacted instantly, raising its arm to block.
Ethan took the chance, darting beneath its defenses and delivering a powerful punch to the side of its knee joint.
His fist connected with a dull thud.
Ethan blinked. "Ow."
The armor was too thick.
The exosuit's other arm swung down, but Ethan's body reacted automatically, shifting to the side just in time.
Peter shot multiple web lines, sticking the exosuit's legs to the ground.
"Try that on for size, Terminator!"
The exosuit paused, then flexed its servos. The webs strained—then snapped instantly.
Peter groaned. "Oh, come on."
The exosuit's arm shifted, revealing a built-in energy cannon.
"Lethal force authorized."
Ethan's eyes widened. "That's definitely not good."
Peter grabbed Ethan's arm. "New plan—we run."
The cannon charged up, emitting a high-pitched whine.
Ethan and Peter dived in opposite directions as the beam fired, scorching the floor where they had just stood.
Flames erupted, casting flickering shadows across the loading bay.
Peter scrambled to his feet. "Alright, this is officially the worst break-in I've ever done."
Ethan coughed from the smoke. "Do you… do this often?"
Peter shrugged. "You'd be surprised."
The exosuit stomped forward, relentless.
Ethan's body was adjusting, but not fast enough. He needed more time—more exposure—to fully counteract its strength.
Peter tapped his communicator. "Gwen? We could really use some help here."
Gwen's voice crackled through the earpiece. "What exactly do you want me to do against a walking tank?"
Peter dodged another attack. "I dunno! Hack something! Make it self-destruct!"
Ethan ducked another swing. "Yeah, that'd be great!"
Gwen sighed. "I'm working on it! Just don't die!"
The exosuit's cannon began charging again.
Ethan's instincts flared. His body tensed.
This time—he was ready.
The fight wasn't over yet.
The tension in the air was thick, palpable. The exosuit's energy cannon whined again as it powered up, the glowing blue light indicating it was about to fire once more. The ground beneath it seemed to vibrate, the sheer force of its movements enough to send a shudder through the entire room.
Ethan's mind raced. His body had already adapted to the suit's physical strength, but the energy weapon? That was another story entirely. He could feel his muscles flexing and recalibrating—his body fighting to understand this new threat. But time was not on his side.
"Peter!" Ethan shouted. "I need you to keep it distracted!"
Peter shot Ethan a look, his eyes darting to the exosuit's glowing cannon. "And what are you gonna do? Run up and punch the cannon?"
Ethan cracked a grin. "Maybe. But I was thinking more along the lines of not getting shot first."
Peter didn't have time to respond. The cannon released another blinding blast, but this time, Peter was ready. He leaped into the air, dodging the attack with an impressive flip, the explosion behind him lighting up the darkened room like a flash of lightning.
"Hey, ugly!" Peter taunted, slinging webs at the exosuit's visor. "You might want to take a break—get some oil, maybe a little WD-40!"
The webs struck the exosuit's face, but instead of disrupting its vision, the suit's visor simply shifted, adjusting its focus to compensate. The red glow intensified as it locked onto Peter with unnerving precision.
"Ethan, it's adapting!" Peter called out, barely evading another swing from the suit's colossal arm. "What do we do now?!"
Ethan was already on the move. He had a plan—he just needed to get in close enough to make it work. His body was reacting, but not at full capacity yet. As he dodged another energy blast, he noticed the suit's movement was getting slower, more predictable. It was adjusting to their tactics, yes, but it wasn't fully optimized.
"Hang tight!" Ethan shouted, launching himself toward the suit's exposed joints, his adapting muscles allowing him to move faster than he had moments before.
Peter watched as Ethan slipped past the exosuit's defenses, narrowly avoiding another strike. "Okay, this is getting a little too Matrix-y for my liking," Peter muttered, then webbed up the exosuit's other arm. It had worked before, but this time—he had no idea if it would work again.
But Ethan didn't seem concerned. In fact, he looked almost… confident.
When Ethan reached the exosuit's knee joint, he used the momentum from his leap to strike with precision. This time, there was no dull thud. His body had adapted, and the force he put behind the blow cracked the exosuit's plating, sending a crack along the armor.
Peter's jaw dropped. "Wait, you actually—"
Ethan didn't wait for Peter's amazement. He wasn't about to waste time. While the exosuit staggered back from the impact, Ethan took his chance—darting to the side and landing a punch to its exposed core. His enhanced strength from his adaptation was now on full display. The suit shuddered. It was vulnerable.
"Peter!" Ethan shouted. "Focus on the joints. I'll take care of the rest!"
Peter didn't hesitate. He spun mid-air, webs flying as he aimed for the suit's neck joint, securing it in place. The webbing pulled tight as the exosuit tried to break free, but the webs were too thick now.
The suit roared in frustration, its movements growing slower, more labored. The joints had become stiff, restricting its mobility.
But Ethan wasn't done. He saw the energy cannon charging once again. "This is it!" He dove straight for the cannon, his muscles pushing him to the brink of his adapted limits.
In one swift motion, he reached the cannon, grabbed the barrel, and twisted it—using all his strength to wrench it off its axis. The exosuit's internal systems immediately began to flicker, sparking in response.
"No more beams for you!" Ethan said, a grin forming on his face.
Peter swung back toward the fight. "Nice job, dude!"
The exosuit staggered back, and for the first time since the fight began, it seemed to hesitate. Its energy source was disabled, its primary weapon taken offline.
But then, with a low growl, the suit started to recalibrate. Ethan could feel it—adapting once more.
"Not good," Ethan muttered, narrowing his eyes.
Peter stepped forward. "Okay, so we got its attention. What's the next move?"
Ethan's thoughts raced. The suit was dangerously close to full adaptation, and while he was still improving, his body wasn't a miracle worker. Not yet.
"I need more time," Ethan said. "I'm close, but—"
A voice crackled through their earpieces. "You two better hurry up!" Gwen's voice sounded urgent. "I'm working on something here, but I need a distraction!"
"How much time do you need?" Peter asked, dodging another swing.
"Not much longer!" Gwen responded. "Just… hold it together!"
The exosuit roared once again, its fist coming down toward them. Peter's instincts kicked in, and he immediately shot webs at the ceiling, using them to swing out of the way. Ethan, however, didn't dodge. He stood his ground, his body reacting as the exosuit's massive fist slammed down where he had been standing only moments before.
The ground cracked beneath the impact. Ethan was already moving again, using the force of the punch to launch himself higher into the air. This time, he dove directly toward the exosuit's head, aiming for the weak spot he'd noticed earlier—the exposed circuit panel near the top.
His fist connected.
The suit's visor cracked, the red glow flickering as sparks flew from the damage. Ethan could feel the heat radiating from the suit's core, the pressure building in his body. His muscles were adapted, but he was pushing his limits now.
Peter swung in to help, adding webbing to the cracks Ethan had made, binding the exosuit's head in place.
For a brief moment, the exosuit stopped moving entirely. It was done—disabled.
Ethan dropped to the ground, panting heavily. "And that, my friend, is how you deal with a giant piece of mechanized junk."
Peter collapsed beside him, his body still in motion from the fight. "Dude, you are insane."
Gwen's voice crackled through the earpiece once more. "You guys still alive? Because I've got the info we need to bring this whole thing down!"
Peter gave Ethan a tired grin. "You heard the lady. Let's finish this."
Ethan's body was already recovering, the adapting process continuing. He felt the strength returning to his limbs, his muscles realigning themselves to handle the next challenge. The exosuit might have been down, but they both knew that this was just the beginning.
Ethan smiled. "Let's go bring down Kingpin."
The shifting light from the wrecked exosuit bathed the room in an eerie, flickering glow. Ethan wiped sweat from his brow, muscles still buzzing from the intense fight. His body was recovering—rapidly adapting, just like it had with every threat before—but it didn't mean he was immune to exhaustion. That fight had drained him more than he cared to admit, but it was far from over.
Peter swung himself down from the ceiling, a grin plastered across his face. "Well, that was fun. Who knew giant walking mechs would be on my 'to-kill' list?"
Ethan couldn't help but chuckle at Peter's enthusiasm. Despite everything, it was always impressive how the young hero could maintain his humor. "I guess the exosuit didn't get the memo about how much we hate bad guys."
Peter shot him a glance. "Bad guys who don't know how to fight? Oh, I love these kinds of days!"
They were interrupted by Gwen's voice crackling through their earpieces. "Guys, I've got the intel we need. I'm sending you the files now. Kingpin's money man—the one you're after—is at a warehouse downtown. He's been funneling funds to the black market and using shady fronts to do it. The company you've been tracking? They've been laundering money for months. The whole network's a house of cards."
Ethan didn't waste a second. He grabbed his gear, ready for the next move. "Got it. We're on our way. Peter, stay focused. We'll hit him hard and fast."
Peter's grin never wavered. "Do I ever do anything slow?"
Before either of them could speak again, Gwen cut in. "And if you run into any more trouble, remember: I'm not far behind. You just have to keep that network intact so I can get everything I need from it."
"You got it," Ethan replied, turning to Peter. "Let's wrap this up."
They made their way out of the abandoned building, the familiar sounds of the city stretching out before them. It was late, but New York never slept. The streets buzzed with activity, the hum of the city almost comforting in a weird way. Yet, underneath it all, the darkness loomed—an ever-present reminder that Kingpin was still out there, pulling strings from the shadows.
Peter gave a low whistle. "You know, I always thought I'd be doing something fun when I got superpowers. But this?" He gestured to the dark alley they were walking through. "This feels like we're playing in a giant puzzle where the pieces don't quite fit."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Well, you know how it goes. Heroes gotta do the ugly work."
Peter snorted. "Yeah, but I didn't know 'ugly work' came with broken mechs and deadly money-laundering schemes."
Ethan paused for a moment, then turned to Peter. "You're not wrong. But sometimes, the ugly work is the only thing that gets results."
As they continued through the city streets, the tension was palpable. Ethan's mind raced—his thoughts flickering back to the day his parents had died, to the reason he was so determined to take down Kingpin. They had tried to protect the truth—tried to protect him—but now, it was on him to finish what they had started.
His heart thumped in his chest, and despite the banter with Peter, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the task before him.
Peter was still talking, but Ethan barely heard him. His thoughts swirled around the crimson shadows of the Kingpin, his reach, and the network that stretched all the way to the top. He needed to find the right leverage—the key that would break Kingpin's hold on the city. And he needed it fast.
"Hey, Ethan!" Peter called out, pulling Ethan from his thoughts. "You're getting all broody again. Are you sure you're not secretly a vampire or something? You've been like this since the last fight!"
Ethan blinked, then gave Peter a dry smile. "Yeah, maybe. But I'll have to bite you later. Right now, we need to focus on keeping our heads in the game."
Peter raised both hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine! No vampire biting tonight! But seriously, we've got this. And hey, I don't know about you, but I'm feeling it. Kingpin's been running things unchecked for way too long. It's time someone finally gave him a taste of his own medicine."
Ethan didn't respond right away, but the words hit him like a cold splash of water. That was the point, wasn't it? They weren't just fighting Kingpin—they were fighting the system that protected him. A system that kept the rich and powerful at the top, while the people below struggled to survive.
Peter stopped and turned toward Ethan. "Okay, I'm gonna ask you a serious question."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "This sounds like the start of a bad joke. Go ahead."
Peter grinned. "Alright. Let's say we take down Kingpin. Like, really take him down. What happens next? Does the world just magically get better, or are we just gonna end up in some other mess with a bigger bad guy?"
Ethan paused. It was a question he'd been thinking about for a long time, but hearing Peter ask it out loud made it real.
"I don't know," Ethan said quietly. "Maybe we don't change the world all at once. But we start by changing one thing. And maybe that one thing will have a ripple effect."
Peter nodded, his expression growing more serious. "Yeah. I get that. And hey, if we take down Kingpin, I'll even let you keep the last slice of pizza next time."
Ethan smirked. "Well, if you're offering it that way…"
Before they could get too comfortable, their earpieces crackled to life. "Guys, I just hacked into the building's internal systems. I've got a location. It's a high-rise near the waterfront. Looks like Kingpin's guy is meeting up with a few of his associates. Time to move."
Gwen's voice was firm, but there was a certain edge of urgency in her tone.
Peter's face turned serious, the lightheartedness draining away. "Alright. Time to go to work."
Ethan nodded. "Let's go."
The two of them moved swiftly through the streets, their bodies already adjusting to the environment as they slipped in and out of shadows, preparing for what was next. They weren't just after Kingpin's money—they were after everything he stood for. And when they found him, they weren't leaving empty-handed.
As the night deepened, they approached the waterfront high-rise. The building loomed over them, an imposing structure lit up like a beacon in the dark. It was high-end, the kind of place where the wealthy made deals and thought they could hide their dirty secrets. But this was no longer about the shadows. It was about bringing the fight to Kingpin's doorstep.
Ethan's breath slowed as they made their final approach. Peter gave him a thumbs-up, signaling they were ready.
Ethan exhaled slowly. This was it—the point of no return.
And for the first time, Ethan truly felt the weight of the war he was waging.
The high-rise loomed like a giant sentinel against the night sky, its sleek glass facade glinting ominously in the city's glow. Peter and Ethan stood at the corner of an alley, their eyes trained on the building. The distance between them and their target was short, but the final steps could determine everything. The air hummed with anticipation, their breaths mixing with the soft night breeze.
Peter cracked his knuckles, the familiar sound of his joints popping providing some semblance of comfort. "You know," he started, voice low, "every time we do one of these ops, I think we're getting closer to taking down the big guy." He shot a glance at Ethan. "But this one feels different. This time, we're going for the heart."
Ethan didn't say anything for a moment, his gaze fixed on the high-rise. His mind, however, was elsewhere—back in the dark, crumbling places of his past. His parents' faces flickered in his mind, the sound of their laughter echoing faintly through his thoughts. They had worked tirelessly to bring down men like Kingpin. They had wanted to protect him—keep him from the truth.
But now, he was part of this world.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "We're not just taking him down, Peter. We're taking everything he represents. We destroy his empire, and we cripple the system he's built." He exhaled sharply. "Tonight, we're doing more than just revenge."
Peter looked at him and nodded, sensing the gravity in Ethan's words. "I get it. But hey, we might as well have some fun while we're at it, right?"
Ethan smirked. "Fun's overrated." His voice was dry, but there was an edge of something deeper beneath it. "Focus. This won't be easy."
Peter pouted, but only for a second. "Hey, it's not easy because it's fun. But yeah, no more jokes." He gestured toward the high-rise. "How do you want to play this? Break in through the front door, or should we go for something flashy?"
Ethan considered the question for a moment. The building was clearly fortified, but that didn't matter to him. He had faced worse. What mattered now was getting to Fisk's money man before anyone could react.
"We hit him fast," Ethan decided. "The element of surprise is everything. We get in, get the intel, and get out before Fisk's guys can even blink."
Peter's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "That's my kind of plan. I've been working on a few distractions myself." He clapped his hands, and a small device—one of his latest gadgets—popped out from his webbing. It was an EMP jammer, capable of knocking out all electronics within a certain radius. "This will scramble their comms and buy us some time."
Ethan nodded in approval. "Perfect."
The two of them moved swiftly, staying low and out of sight. They slipped through the shadows, their movements synchronized. The night felt like it was holding its breath, as though the city itself knew what was coming. Each step was a step closer to their goal.
As they reached the side entrance of the high-rise, Ethan held up his hand, signaling Peter to stop. They were about to enter the belly of the beast.
"You ready for this?" Peter whispered, his usual cocky grin gone for once. It was replaced with a quiet seriousness that Ethan appreciated more than he could say.
Ethan gave him a brief nod, before they both slipped inside. The door was unlocked—a mistake on Fisk's part. They crept through the darkened hallways, avoiding security cameras and guards. Ethan's senses were on high alert, every creak of the floor beneath their feet amplified in his ears.
As they approached the elevator shaft, Peter quickly set up his EMP device. He pressed a button, and the device hummed to life. "Give it ten seconds," he said softly. "Then we make our move."
Ethan's mind raced as he looked around, calculating their next steps. They were close. So close.
The device went off with a low pulse, and the building's lights flickered briefly, followed by the telltale sounds of electronics shutting down. For a moment, everything went quiet—unnervingly quiet.
Peter grinned. "Showtime."
They were in the elevator shaft moments later, scaling the walls with ease. It wasn't long before they reached their floor. The building was eerily silent, but the silence was a warning more than anything else. Ethan could feel the tension in the air. This was no ordinary mission. This was personal.
At the top of the elevator shaft, Peter pried open the hatch and peered out. His eyes scanned the hallway, noting the guards stationed by the door.
"Two guys, armed. But they look like they're taking a break." Peter's voice was barely audible, but his tone was sharp. He was in his element.
"Let's make it quick," Ethan replied, his voice low and steady. He didn't need to say more. Peter understood.
They dropped silently into the hallway, the guards too distracted to notice. With practiced precision, Ethan incapacitated one guard with a swift, quiet move, while Peter took out the other with a well-placed web shot that left the man stuck to the wall.
"Too easy," Peter whispered, the grin back on his face.
Ethan didn't respond, his focus entirely on the door in front of them. This was it. Inside, they would find the man who had been laundering Kingpin's money—the man who held the key to everything. This was the opportunity they had been waiting for.
The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a luxurious office. At the far end, sitting behind a massive desk, was a man dressed in a crisp suit, the epitome of wealth and power. He was hunched over, his face obscured by the soft glow of his computer screen.
Without wasting a second, Ethan and Peter stormed in, weapons ready. The man looked up, startled, but he didn't reach for a weapon. Instead, he reached for a button beneath the desk.
Ethan's instincts kicked in. He lunged forward, grabbing the man by the collar and lifting him out of his chair. "Make a sound, and I'll make sure you never speak again."
The man's eyes widened in shock, but he didn't scream. Instead, he tried to calmly smile. "You have no idea what you're doing," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance.
Ethan didn't flinch. "I know exactly what I'm doing. Now tell me where the files are. All of them."
The man hesitated, but then his eyes darted toward a secure drawer in the back of the room. Ethan followed his gaze, then turned back to the man. "You're not in a position to make demands."
Peter, ever the joker, couldn't help but chime in. "You know, I'm starting to think we're not exactly welcome here. What do you think, Ethan?"
Ethan didn't smile, but the cold glint in his eyes told the man everything he needed to know. The files were more than just documents. They were a map to Kingpin's empire, and once they had them, the game was over.
The man sighed, defeated, and slowly opened the drawer. "You'll never get him. You'll never bring him down."
Ethan's grip tightened. "Don't underestimate me."