New York, United States
Peter Parker and Baobhan Sith were making their way home through a city ravaged by chaos. The streets were a battlefield, swarming with creatures that had no place in this world.
Their movements were a symphony of precision and destruction—a dance between spider-like agility and vampiric grace.
A horde of winged, bat-like creatures with razor-sharp teeth descended from above. Known as gargoyles, these predators were relentless.
Peter, unflinching, pulled a peculiar pen with a glowing stone embedded in its center from his pocket. With swift strokes, he sketched a weapon in the air. In moments, the pen's energy crystallized into a sleek laser handgun. He gripped it tightly, aiming at the advancing enemies.
With pinpoint accuracy, Peter fired, blasting the creatures out of the sky. His movements were precise, each shot clearing a path forward.
The pen wasn't ordinary—it was the key to his new ability, Forge Field, a gift from the Dimensional Chat. It allowed him to materialize anything his mind could imagine, from weapons to armor, vehicles, and even doomsday devices. But the ability came with a cost: Forge Field required a special catalyst—a Forge Stone—and his pen to bring creations to life.
Baobhan Sith smirked as she dispatched her own enemies with chilling efficiency. With a wave of her hand, she manipulated the blood of her foes, forming razor-sharp spikes and crimson lances. She impaled and sliced through the gargoyles with a calm elegance.
"Ara, ara... Look at you, finally shedding that boyish restraint. My little spider has grown up," Baobhan teased, her voice dripping with pride.
Peter didn't rise to her bait, his gaze fixed and determined as he shot down another wave of enemies.
"I'm done holding back," he replied coldly, his voice edged with resolve. "I understand now... Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire."
He recalled the words of a group chat member, words that had stayed with him: Sometimes, the greater good requires you to take the harder path. You can't protect everyone by pulling your punches.
The battlefield finally quieted, leaving the couple standing amidst the wreckage.
•
Peter Lab
Arriving home, Peter hurried to the basement. He placed his palm on a scanner and entered a code.
[Welcome back, Mr. Peter Parker]
[Welcome back, Miss Baobhan Sith]
The wall slid open, revealing a concealed laboratory filled with gadgets and experimental equipment. At the center stood a combat apparatus—a set of mechanical spider arms, each equipped with a unique weapon.
Peter approached the contraption, sitting down in the chair beside it. A series of automated limbs came to life, fastening the device onto his back. The six mechanical arms extended outward, glowing faintly as systems activated.
Baobhan watched with an amused smile, leaning casually against the wall.
"So serious, Master," she teased. "I must say, this version of you is quite thrilling."
Peter didn't respond immediately, adjusting the configuration of the mechanical limbs. Finally, he stood, the arms moving fluidly behind him, ready for battle.
"I'm ready. Let's finish this," he said firmly, his resolve unshaken.
Baobhan stepped forward, her smirk widening. "As you wish, my dear spider."
Together, they left the lab, prepared to face the dark forces threatening their city—and the world beyond.
•
Satria and the Fantastic Four stood together, fending off waves of demons, ghouls, and undead monstrosities flooding the city streets. Their combined might kept the invaders at bay, but the battle was far from over.
"Dragon Breath!" Satria roared, unleashing a torrent of dark fire from his mouth. The black flames incinerated a horde of undead, leaving nothing but ash in their wake.
Johnny Storm, a.k.a. the Human Torch, stared in awe. "Whoa! That's insane! How do you even do that?"
"Focus on the enemies, not me," Satria snapped, his voice sharp.
"Ugh, you're no fun," Johnny muttered, pouting.
Susan Storm, the Invisible Woman, sighed as she scolded her brother. "Stop goofing around, Johnny, and focus!"
"Power Ranger's right," Ben Grimm, the Thing, grunted. "Let's smash these freaks first, chat later."
Reed Richards, a.k.a. Mr. Fantastic, couldn't resist his curiosity. "I have to ask—your armor, your abilities... Could I study them later?"
Satria didn't even look at him. "...No."
"Reed!" Susan glared at her friends, exasperated. "Not the time!"
Amidst the carnage, a figure cloaked in black robes appeared, radiating a sinister green aura. His voice echoed through the chaos.
"Stop your futile resistance, mortals. Surrender to the might of the Burning Legion!"
Johnny didn't hesitate, hurling a blast of fire at the figure. The flames dissipated harmlessly against an invisible barrier.
"Who are you?" Satria demanded, his eyes narrowing. "And how did you get here?"
The figure chuckled darkly. "You dare question me, human? I am Rtundar, a necromancer of the Cult of the Damned. Prepare to join my army of the dead!"
Rtundar raised his hands, chanting in an ancient, guttural language. The ground shook as a legion of skeletal warriors emerged, armed with swords, shields, and bows.
"Kill them," the necromancer commanded.
"Just great," Johnny muttered, readying himself.
Susan prepared a force field, but Satria stepped forward, stopping her.
"Leave it to me," he said firmly.
Satria leaped into the air, dark flames swirling around his fists. "Hibashira!" With a powerful strike, a towering pillar of black fire erupted, engulfing the skeleton army and reducing them to cinders.
"Now that's impressive," Ben said, smirking.
"I can do that too!" Johnny protested, glaring at Ben.
In the heat of battle, Satria's inner voice—Fatalis—interrupted his thoughts.
[Fatalis: Puppy, use your speed force to construct something useful]
'Construct? Like what?' Satria asked, confused.
The Black Dragon sighed.
[Fatalis: Anything. A weapon, a shield—just concentrate and use your speed force to stabilize it]
'...How do you even know about this?'
[Fatalis: You watched the Flash movies, didn't you?]
'I didn't think it was relevant to my life.'
[Fatalis: You Hopeless, Just focus]
Taking a deep breath, Satria concentrated, imagining a weapon. Dark lightning crackled around his arms as he formed a naginata-like blade, infused with his speed force.
"It worked!" he exclaimed, gripping the weapon tightly. "Time for the Amazing Satria to shine!"
He launched himself into action, moving at blinding speed. Dark lightning trailed behind him as he slashed through the skeleton warriors, leaving only shattered bones in his wake.
The Fantastic Four could barely keep up.
"Is he... moving faster than the eye can follow?" Reed muttered in amazement.
Rtundar watched in horror as his army crumbled. "Protect me, you fools!" he shouted, summoning a barrier of skeletal warriors around himself.
Satria smirked. 'Time to end this. Dark Platinum! Stop Time!"
Everything froze. Satria calmly walked through the still battlefield, his naginata glowing ominously. With a single stroke, he severed Rtundar's head from his body.
As time resumed, the necromancer's lifeless body crumpled to the ground, and his summoned army vanished into dust.
Susan gasped, her face pale as she struggled to process what she'd just seen.
"W-What? When did you—?" she stammered, her stomach turning at the sight of the decapitated body. She turned away, trying to suppress her nausea.
"Sis, you okay?" Johnny asked, concerned.
"...I'll be fine," she said shakily, not wanting to distract the group.
Reed, still stunned, asked, "Who are you? I've never seen anything like this before."
Satria glanced at him briefly. "Another time. Right now, we have more important things to deal with."
Without waiting for a response, he strode toward the massive gate the demons had emerged from, the Fantastic Four following closely behind.
•
"Help!!! It hurts so much!"
A monstrous creature, grotesquely stitched together from the remains of countless corpses, stood amidst the chaos. Its mismatched body parts glistened with blood as it chopped apart a screaming U.S. soldier. The soldier's agonized cries were cut short as the abomination began devouring him piece by piece.
"Haaa~ Fresh meat," the creature growled, its twisted face contorted in delight as it gnawed on the soldier's flesh.
Nearby, panic consumed the remaining soldiers.
"No! They're eating Dariel! Oh my God!" one of them cried, his voice trembling with horror.
The leader of the SWAT team barked out orders, desperate to regain control. "Soldiers, hold your formation! Don't falter—kill them all!"
Gunfire erupted in a relentless cacophony as the soldiers emptied their magazines into the oncoming hordes of undead and demonic creatures.
"We need more ammo! There's too many of them!"
"Medic! We've got wounded here!"
Despite their efforts, the situation spiraled out of control. For every monster they managed to kill, more seemed to rise, their ranks replenished by the bodies of fallen soldiers. Despair began to creep into the hearts of the defenders.
"Foolish humans. Surrender and serve the Burning Legion."
A towering lich floated above the battlefield, its skeletal fingers weaving dark magic. But before it could finish its incantation, a kunai whizzed through the air, slicing through the silence.
In an instant, a figure appeared behind the lich, his blade gleaming as it effortlessly reduced the Lich into ashes.
The soldiers turned to see their unexpected savior: a hooded man, exuding an aura of unshakable confidence. His presence seemed to pierce through the suffocating despair, rekindling hope.
The abominations shifted their attention to this newcomer, snarling and charging toward him.
Unfazed, the man raised his blade, and a pure, godlike aura erupted around him. The oppressive energy radiated outward, causing the undead and demons to falter.
"Come and face me, you monsters!" his voice thundered across the battlefield.
With unmatched precision and grace, the warrior struck down his foes. Each swing of his sword left a trail of devastation, cleaving through the demonic ranks like a divine force. The soldiers, watching in awe, cheered as their savior turned the tide of battle.
Once the battlefield fell silent, one of the soldiers approached, trembling but grateful. "We... thank you, Hero. Are you one of the Avengers?"
The man shook his head. "No. I'm just someone who helps those in need."
Without waiting for further questions, he walked toward a soldier lying on the ground, clutching a grievous wound.
"What are you doing?" the injured soldier's comrade asked, wary of the stranger's intentions.
The shinobi knelt beside the wounded man and placed a hand over his injuries. A soft, white glow emanated from his palm, bathing the soldier in a warm, healing light. The wounds began to close before their very eyes, leaving the soldier completely restored.
"It's... it's a miracle," the soldier whispered, touching his unscarred skin in disbelief. "Thank you, Hero. Please, tell us—what's your name?"
The man nodded solemnly. "You may call me Patronus Maximus."
Before anyone could ask more, he vanished, disappearing as suddenly as he had arrived.
•
Artoria cut through the Undead and monsters with precise strikes, her golden blade shimmering even in the chaos. As she neared the giant portal, a deafening roar split the air. She stopped in her tracks and turned toward the source of the sound.
Three figures were locked in battle with two massive Undead Dragons and a towering demonic humanoid dragon—the Doom Guard. The sight was otherworldly, their clashes shaking the ground and illuminating the dark battlefield.
One of the warriors, a blonde woman in a sleek, form-fitting uniform, blasted one of the dragons with a beam of pure energy. Her movements were agile, her strikes powerful.
"Damn abomination," she muttered. "Why don't you stay dead already?"
"Feel the power of Thor!" another voice boomed as a man with long blonde hair hurled a hammer crackling with lightning at the other dragon, shattering its jaw. Yet, the monster's flesh and bones regenerated almost instantly, its grotesque form reassembling as dark energy from the portal flowed into it.
Before she could act, the Doom Guard launched a sneak attack on the blonde woman with its flaming sword. Artoria darted forward, her instincts sharp, and intercepted the blow with Excalibur. Sparks flew as their blades clashed.
The blonde woman blinked, surprised but grateful. "Who are you?" she asked, backing up and regaining her stance.
Artoria stepped back after pushing the Doom Guard aside, her stance regal and composed. "For now... You may call me Saber."
Thor strode forward, his hammer slung over his shoulder. His blue cape billowed in the wind as he studied her with interest. "I am Thor, son of Odin and prince of Asgard. Your strength is impressive, Lady Saber. Are you a warrior of this realm?"
Artoria shook her head. "No, but I fight to protect it from the chaos these creatures bring."
The blonde woman stepped closer, her gaze assessing. "I'm Carol Danvers, but most know me as Captain Marvel. We could use a blade like yours right now."
The third figure, a towering, muscular man with a lion pelt slung over his shoulders, smirked. "And I am Hercules, son of Zeus. It's not often I meet someone who carries themselves like a true champion. I like you already."
Artoria nodded at each of them. "It's an honor to fight alongside you. But we must focus—the dragons are drawing power from that portal, which must be closed."
Thor nodded in agreement. "Wise words, Saber. Let us combine our strength to slay these demonic creatures and destroy the portal."
•
Peter swung through the battlefield, dodging attacks from hordes of ghouls and undead creatures. His six robotic spider arms moved with precision, each performing its designated role.
"A heat-seeking missile isn't going to work on these things," Peter muttered to himself, dodging a ghoul's lunge. "They're not alive in the first place."
One of his arms fired a thick web, ensnaring three ghouls at once. With a quick command, another arm unleashed a searing laser beam, disintegrating the trapped creatures.
"Gotcha!" Peter grinned as the ghouls burned to ashes.
Each of his six spider arms served a unique function:
Heat Beam: A concentrated laser that incinerated enemies on contact.
Rocket Launcher: A homing rocket system designed for mid-range combat.
Barrier Generator: Capable of creating energy shields to protect him or his allies.
Nano-Robot Swarm: Tiny spider-shaped robots for reconnaissance or sabotage.
Teleport Flare: A device to displace enemies or himself to another location.
???: The final arm's function remained a closely guarded secret, used only in dire situations.
As the battle raged, Baobhan Sith, Peter's vampiric companion, fought by his side. She was elegant yet lethal, weaving through the chaos like a dancer. However, her stamina was waning.
"Master, these creatures' life force is disgusting. I can't replenish my prana like this!" she complained, holding her stomach with a grimace.
Peter glanced at her, then nodded. "Alright, let's take a breather."
The two retreated into a nearby building, the dilapidated structure offering temporary refuge. The sound of ghouls clawing outside faded as they entered a quiet room. Peter took off his mask, revealing his youthful face and tired eyes.
"Here," he said, tilting his head to expose his neck. "Go ahead."
Baobhan's crimson eyes lit up. "Fufufu, thank you, Master. You're too kind to me."
She leaned in and bit into his neck, her fangs piercing his skin delicately. Peter winced at first but quickly relaxed, his body used to the sensation.
"Ahhh… delicious as always," Baobhan murmured between sips. Her expression softened, her eyes becoming heart-shaped as she savored his blood. "Your blood is like the finest vintage wine. I could drink it forever."
Peter's face flushed. "Baobhan, you've been at this for five minutes. If you keep going, I'll end up as one of those dried-up husks outside."
"But, Master, you taste so good!" she whined, her voice dripping with affection.
Suddenly, a sultry voice cut through the tension.
"Well, well, I didn't expect Spider-Boy to have such a... unique way of keeping his energy up," the voice purred.
Both Peter and Baobhan snapped their heads toward the sound.
From the shadows emerged a woman with silvery-white hair clad in a skintight black catsuit, her sharp green eyes glinting with amusement. She leaned casually against the doorframe, her posture exuding confidence and continue.
"Black Cat?" Peter's voice cracked slightly, a mix of surprise and disbelief.
Felicia Hardy smirked, twirling a clawed finger in mock curiosity. "Color me intrigued. I sneak into a building to lay low, and what do I find? A teenage spider indulging in some kinky vampire bonding session."
Baobhan's eyes narrowed, her possessive nature flaring. "Who's this, Master? Another one of your fangirls?"
Felicia raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at her lips. "Fangirl? Oh, sweetie, I'm the Black Cat. I don't follow anyone—I let them follow me. But judging by how cozy you two look, maybe I should start keeping an eye on this spider."
Peter groaned, rubbing his temples. "Felicia, not now. We're kind of in the middle of an apocalypse."
Felicia stepped closer, her hips swaying with every step. "And yet, you've got time for a little neck-nibbling session. Priorities, Spider."
Baobhan hissed softly, stepping protectively in front of Peter. "Back off, Cat. Master is mine."
Felicia chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension. "Relax, little vampire. I'm not here to steal your boy. I just couldn't resist saying hello. And maybe lend a claw if you need it."
Peter sighed, putting his mask back on. "Felicia, if you're going to stick around, make yourself useful. These ghouls won't kill themselves."
Felicia flexed her claws, a confident smirk spreading across her face. "Oh, Spider, you know I'm always useful. Lead the way."
Baobhan pouted but didn't argue, knowing they needed all the help they could get.
As the trio prepared to leave their temporary haven, Peter couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "Why do all the crazy ones flock to me?"
Felicia winked. "Because you love us."
To be continued.