Felix—or rather, Shadow, now in control—advanced slowly into the dimly lit room. The girl he had just thrown across it was already on her feet again, seemingly unscathed. Her formerly pretty face was now a horrific mess, shredded and bleeding. Beneath the ruined skin, an intricate, root-like structure of tendrils and pulsing tissue slithered and squirmed, slowly knitting her face back together.
The sight made Felix, watching from within his own mind, feel a sickening twist in his stomach.
"She's tougher than I thought," Shadow muttered, brow furrowing. "Tougher than those rock-hard pancakes they sell at that shop downstairs."
"I told you she wasn't like the others," Felix's voice echoed in Shadow's mind, carrying a note of urgency. "Don't underestimate her."
In their current state, their roles had reversed—Felix was the inner observer, and Shadow was in control, guiding Felix's body through each movement.
"Don't worry, I've got this under control," Shadow replied, stretching his neck, his confidence unshaken.
The girl's hand drifted to her mangled face, touching the writhing network of roots and veins as her skin slowly reformed. Her eyes glowed with anger, fixing on Shadow with an intense hatred.
"You… ruined my face!" she snarled, her voice laced with venom. "You're going to pay for that!"
Her scream echoed through the room as more tentacle-like structures erupted from beneath her skin. They wrapped around her, binding her body in a grotesque suit of organic armor, each tendril writhing as if alive.
With an animalistic snarl, she lunged at Felix's body. Shadow braced himself, meeting her charge with a perfectly-timed punch, his fist swinging forward in a blur. But she was agile, twisting her body at the last second to dodge his strike. Pushing off from the bed, she vaulted through the air, attempting to bypass his defenses entirely.
But Shadow had anticipated her move. His arm shot out, seizing her by the ankle and yanking her out of the air. She hit the ground hard, her body slamming into the floor with a jarring thud.
The girl screamed, her free leg kicking up to strike at Shadow's face. Shadow released her ankle just in time to avoid the blow, stepping back as she scrambled to her feet. But before she could fully recover, Shadow advanced, closing the gap between them once again. She raised her clawed hands to strike, but he deflected them with ease, brushing her attacks aside. His free hand shot forward, pressing his palm against her chest.
Boom!
A blast of energy erupted from his hand, launching her backward with a force that sent her crashing through the window. Glass shattered in an explosion of shards as her body hurtled through the air, crashing onto the roof of a car below. The metal roof crumpled under the impact, and the windshield shattered into a web of cracks.
"Still in one piece after that?" Shadow muttered, walking to the broken window. "She's a tough one."
This was his special ability—contact detonation. Anything he touched with his bare hands could be triggered to explode, turning even the slightest touch into a weapon. Most infected would have disintegrated after a single strike, but this one seemed resistant.
"Stay alert," Felix warned from within.
"Relax," Shadow replied, waving off the concern. "I've got this. After this, I think we've earned a bag of spicy snacks."
With that, Shadow prepared to jump from the shattered window to finish the fight. But before he could leap, a sudden gust of wind slammed into him from the side, throwing him off balance. He crashed into the wall and rolled into the adjacent room, surrounded by debris from the impact.
Both Felix and Shadow were caught off guard. Shadow's eyes narrowed, scanning the direction of the attack. He realized it had come from the next room over, where a slender figure stood in the shadows, arms crossed. Her expression was calm, almost amused, and a small bear emblem was embroidered on her jacket.
"Hello, children," she said with a mocking smile. "This must be our first meeting."
Felix's heart sank as he recognized her instantly.
It was unmistakable—this was Ophelia, one of the 'Elders', and currently one of the most wanted targets of the Ninth Division. Layla had described her appearance in vivid detail, and the department's artists had crafted accurate portraits. Felix had committed every detail to memory, and now he was face-to-face with her.
"Damn, we're dealing with an Elder," Felix muttered within Shadow's mind. "Plans have changed. We need reinforcements. At this level, we might need to retreat…"
"Retreat?" Shadow's voice was filled with irritation, tinged with excitement. "Not a chance. I haven't even warmed up yet!"
Shadow steadied himself, rising from the rubble and preparing to strike back. With a flick of his wrists, he detonated the air itself, using the force to propel himself forward like a missile. He hurtled toward Ophelia, moving with the speed of a bullet.
But Ophelia didn't flinch. With a flick of her fingers, a powerful whirlwind erupted around her, diverting Shadow's trajectory mid-flight. He was knocked off course, slamming into the wall with a resounding crash.
Ophelia strolled toward him with a leisurely, almost taunting grace. "I generally prefer to remain behind the scenes," she said, smiling as if savoring the moment. "But this particular infected specimen is special. I've cultivated her carefully, and her potential is extraordinary." She paused, her gaze flicking to Shadow. "And now, here you are—an actual phantom. Humans are evolving in such fascinating ways."
Before she could finish, a low, gravelly voice spoke from the shadows, breaking the tension.
"Oh, you'll find me interesting, too," it growled.
Ophelia's eyes widened, barely having time to react as a dark figure emerged from the shadows. In an instant, a gloved fist clad in electric shock knuckles connected with her face, unleashing a burst of electricity across her features.
"You!" she shrieked, her calm facade shattering as her face contorted with fury.
It was him again—always him, appearing like an unshakable ghost, haunting her steps. She had changed cities to escape him, yet here he was again, relentless and unyielding.
The electric shock surged across her skin, but it was only a minor inconvenience. She reacted instinctively, her hand shooting out as tendrils of dark energy formed into clawed extensions, aiming to ensnare her assailant. She stumbled backward, creating distance as she attempted to regain her control.
But while the Elders possessed powerful abilities, they weren't trained in close-quarters combat. Her strikes were unrefined, allowing the man to dodge with ease, weaving around her attacks with practiced agility. He closed the distance between them again, moving in with swift strikes.
Seeing her attempt to force him back fail, Ophelia raised her other hand, summoning a cyclone that gathered in her palm before shooting toward him like an invisible cannonball.
The man anticipated the strike, pivoting out of its path. The unseen projectile struck the wall behind him, leaving a crater in the plaster. As he dodged, he spun with remarkable grace, his dark cloak flaring behind him, and delivered a powerful backspin kick directly to Ophelia's face.
The impact was explosive, sending her stumbling back. She touched her face in shock, her pride momentarily shattered. As her eyes dropped to her torso, she saw two small, bat-shaped explosives attached to her clothing.
Boom! Boom!
The explosives detonated, throwing her body backward, sending her crashing through the hotel wall and out into the open air.
But even as she hurtled through the sky, Ophelia's mind remained sharp. Her body was durable, able to withstand impacts that would kill ordinary beings. As she fell, she prepared to manipulate the airflow around her, intending to cushion her descent. With her wind control, she could adjust her fall, guiding herself safely to the ground.
Boom!
Before she could initiate her plan, twin golden beams shot down from above, striking her with unrelenting force. The impact threw her across the street, her body skidding to a halt amidst broken debris.
A figure descended from the sky, jets blazing from his red-and-gold armor as he made a dramatic landing. Iron Man's suit glistened under the streetlights, his weapons trained on Ophelia as he raised an arm.
"Meet Mark Forty-Three," Stark's voice crackled over the suit's speakers.
Ophelia groaned, struggling to rise, but before she could regain her footing, another red figure dropped from above, slamming her back down with a powerful stomp. The ground cracked beneath her as she was forced into it, the sheer force of the impact reverberating through the street.
The figure flipped through the air, landing gracefully with his hand in a ready stance behind him. His suit was sleek and agile—a blend of technology and elegance.
Iron Spider-Man had arrived.