The cold air outside the factory hit Leroy like a slap. The faint remnants of smoke from the destroyed devices clung to his clothes, and the night seemed quieter now, as if the city had momentarily caught its breath. But the silence was deceptive. Baltimore wasn't done bleeding.
Aisha stood next to him, her arms crossed as she glanced back at the crumbling structure. The unconscious man they had dragged outside was propped against the factory wall, his head slumped forward.
"Now what?" Aisha asked, her voice low but steady.
Leroy didn't answer immediately. His eyes scanned the street, the faint hum of the web still thrumming inside him. He could feel its connection to the man they'd captured, a faint thread leading back to something larger—something hidden.
"We make him talk," Leroy said finally.
Aisha frowned. "And if he doesn't?"
Leroy's jaw tightened. "Then we find someone who will."
The man stirred, groaning softly as he regained consciousness. Leroy crouched in front of him, his hands resting on his knees. "You're awake. Good. Saves us the trouble of waiting."
The man blinked blearily, his expression shifting from confusion to anger as his gaze focused on Leroy. "You don't know what you're messing with, kid."
Leroy's lips curled into a faint smile, but there was no humor in it. "That's funny. I was about to say the same thing to you."
The man tried to move, but his hands were bound with shimmering strands of web. He struggled for a moment before giving up, his glare intensifying. "You think you've won? You think shutting down one operation changes anything?"
"It's a start," Leroy said calmly. "Now, you're going to tell me who you're working for and what they're planning."
The man laughed bitterly. "Even if I wanted to, you wouldn't understand. You're just a pawn in a game too big for you to see."
Leroy leaned closer, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. "Try me."
The man hesitated, his eyes flicking to Aisha, who stood a few feet away with her arms crossed, her expression unyielding. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something, but then he smirked.
"You're wasting your time," he said. "You think this is about Baltimore? This is about the world waking up. People like me, we're just… accelerants. The fire was already burning—we're just making sure it spreads."
Aisha stepped forward, her voice sharp. "Burning what? Innocent people's lives? Their homes? What kind of 'wake-up call' is that?"
The man's smirk didn't waver. "You can't rebuild until you tear it all down. And this city? It's long overdue for a reckoning."
Leroy's hands twitched, the web stirring instinctively. He fought the urge to lash out, to let his frustration take over. Instead, he focused on the faint threads he could feel, the intangible connections that seemed to weave around the man like a web of their own.
"You might not want to talk," Leroy said, his voice measured. "But I can feel it. Whatever you're connected to, it's out there. And I'll find it."
The man's smirk faltered, just for a moment, and Leroy knew he'd struck a nerve.
Before Leroy could press further, the distant sound of sirens broke the tension. Aisha glanced toward the street, her posture stiffening.
"We need to go," she said. "If the cops find us here, they're not going to ask questions."
Leroy nodded, rising to his feet. He looked down at the man, his expression cold. "This isn't over. Not for you. Not for anyone pulling the strings."
The man chuckled weakly. "You'll never stop it."
Leroy didn't respond. He turned and followed Aisha down the street, leaving the man tied to the factory wall.
They moved quickly, the sirens growing louder behind them. Leroy could feel the weight of the night pressing down on him, the threads of the web pulling him in a dozen different directions. Each step felt heavier, as if the events of the evening were catching up to him all at once.
"You okay?" Aisha asked, her voice softer now.
Leroy nodded, though he didn't feel okay. "Yeah. Just… processing."
Aisha glanced at him, her brow furrowed. "That guy back there… he's part of something bigger, isn't he?"
"Yeah," Leroy said, his voice low. "And it's not just him. It's the whole system, the way everything's connected. It's like the web—it's everywhere, and it's tangled. Pulling one thread just leads to another."
Aisha sighed. "So what do we do?"
Leroy stopped, his gaze distant as he looked out over the city. "We keep pulling. One thread at a time."
The faint glow of dawn began to creep over the horizon, painting the sky in muted shades of gray and orange. Baltimore's streets were quieter now, the riots settling into an uneasy lull. But Leroy knew it was only temporary. The city's wounds were too deep, its fractures too numerous.
As they reached the rooftop where they'd started the night, Leroy felt the weight of the web settle over him once more. It wasn't just a power—it was a responsibility, one he hadn't asked for but couldn't ignore.
"We're not going to fix this overnight," Aisha said, leaning against the railing.
"I know," Leroy replied. "But we can start."
Aisha looked at him, her expression serious. "You've got something special, Leroy. But it's not just about the web or whatever powers you have. It's about how you use them."
Leroy nodded, his gaze fixed on the city below. "I'll figure it out. I have to."
The first rays of sunlight broke through the clouds, casting long shadows across the city. For a moment, the chaos felt distant, almost manageable. But Leroy knew better. The threads of the web were tangled, and it would take more than one night to unravel them.
He closed his eyes, letting the faint hum of the web guide him. It wasn't just about Baltimore or the riots—it was about something bigger, something he was only beginning to understand.
And he was ready to face it.