The city was cloaked in shadows, its usual hum of life subdued as the monstrous figure prowled through the streets. Gargan's massive form was partially concealed beneath a tattered trench coat and a hood pulled low over his glowing eyes. His clawed feet scraped against the pavement as he moved, leaving faint gouges in the concrete.
The few pedestrians still out at this hour gave him a wide berth, sensing the danger radiating from him like heat. Gargan stopped in front of a dimly lit Oscorp affiliate office. Without hesitation, he smashed through the glass door, sending shards flying and triggering the alarm.
Inside, a terrified security guard stumbled backward, his hand trembling on his holstered weapon. Gargan loomed over him, his voice guttural and filled with rage. "Where's Norman Osborn?"
"I—I don't know!" the guard stammered, backing into a desk.
Gargan growled, his clawed hand sweeping across the desk, scattering papers and smashing a computer. "Wrong answer."
The guard cowered as Gargan turned his attention to a nearby wall-mounted monitor displaying Oscorp's logo. With a roar, he plunged his claws into the screen, sparks flying as it shattered.
The next stop on Gargan's rampage was an Oscorp storage facility. He tore through the chain-link fence surrounding the site, his hulking frame illuminated by the flickering security lights. Workers and guards scattered as Gargan ripped through crates and machinery, his claws leaving deep gashes in steel.
"Norman Osborn!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the night. "Show yourself!"
A team of security guards rushed in, armed with stun batons and rifles. They surrounded Gargan, their leader shouting, "Stand down!"
Gargan turned slowly, his hood falling back to reveal his monstrous face, his glowing eyes narrowing. "You think that will stop me?"
The guards charged, but Gargan moved with terrifying speed for his size. He swatted one guard aside like a rag doll, his claws ripping through another's baton with a single swipe. The remaining guards hesitated, fear overtaking their training.
Climbing atop a flaming Oscorp truck that he had overturned in the chaos, Gargan raised his arms and roared into the night. "Norman Osborn! Spider-Boy! You can't hide forever!"
The scene was caught on live broadcasts, news cameras capturing the destruction and chaos. Gargan's menacing form became the face of terror spreading across the city.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Peter watched the live footage on his phone, his chest tight with frustration. Gargan's roar sent chills down his spine, and he could feel the weight of the city's fear pressing down on his shoulders. The notification of activity at an Oscorp warehouse snapped his attention away, but instead of feeling focused, his stomach churned with unease.
He gripped his phone tighter, his mind spiraling. What if he chose wrong? What if he went after Toomes, and Gargan hurt more people? What if someone got killed because he wasn't fast enough, smart enough, strong enough?
"You're doing the best you can, kid," Ben said from the doorway, his voice steady. But Peter could hear the faint concern beneath his uncle's encouraging tone.
Peter nodded, but the words felt hollow. He couldn't meet Ben's eyes. Am I, though? he thought bitterly. Every decision feels like a coin flip, and the stakes are always someone's life.
His heart pounded as he stood up, grabbing his hoodie like it was armor. The mirror on his dresser reflected his face, pale and strained. He barely recognized the person staring back at him—a scared kid trying to play hero.
"You can't be everywhere at once," Ben continued, stepping closer and resting a hand on Peter's shoulder, "but you can make every move count."
Peter's jaw tightened as he tried to push back the rising tide of doubt. He took a shaky breath. "Thanks, Uncle Ben," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
He walked toward the door, forcing himself to move. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his fears and responsibilities threatening to crush him. "I'll do what I can," he said, trying to sound confident.
But deep down, he wasn't sure if he believed it.
The Oscorp warehouse loomed ahead, its dark windows reflecting the faint glow of distant streetlights. Peter crouched behind a stack of crates, scanning the area for guards. Finding none, he slipped through a side entrance, the door creaking softly as he pushed it open.
Inside, the warehouse was eerily silent. Rows of metal shelves stretched into the darkness, filled with Oscorp tech and crates marked with hazardous warnings. Peter's enhanced senses picked up faint electrical hums and the soft rustle of something moving in the shadows.
As he crept deeper, his eyes landed on a table strewn with papers and blueprints. He flipped through them quickly, his breath hitching as he saw diagrams of mechanical wings and notes detailing enhancements involving Gargan.
"This is worse than I thought," Peter muttered, snapping photos with his phone.
A low, mocking voice echoed from the shadows. "Took you long enough."
Peter spun around, his heart pounding. Adrian Toomes stepped into the faint light, his Vulture suit gleaming and fully armed.
Peter backed away as Toomes advanced, his wings flaring menacingly.
"You've been a thorn in my side for too long, kid," Toomes sneered. "Always poking your nose where it doesn't belong."
Peter clenched his fists, his mind racing. "I'm not letting you get away with this, Toomes."
Toomes smirked. "Big words for a kid playing dress-up."
The fight began in a blur of movement. Toomes launched himself into the air, his wings slicing through the air with a mechanical hum. Peter dodged, leaping onto a stack of crates and using his agility to stay one step ahead.
Peter vaulted over a conveyor belt, landing on a support beam and using it to swing himself toward Toomes. He aimed a kick at the villain's chest, but Toomes swatted him away with a powerful wing, sending Peter crashing into a pile of crates.
"You're out of your depth," Toomes taunted, firing a blast from his gauntlet.
Peter rolled to the side, barely avoiding the explosion. His body ached, and his movements grew slower as the fight dragged on. But he refused to give up, using his parkour skills to outmaneuver Toomes whenever he could.
"You're just a scared little boy," Toomes growled, slamming Peter against a wall with one swift motion. "And you're in my way."
Elsewhere in the city, Gargan's rampage continued. His monstrous form loomed over a terrified group of civilians as he tore through a shopping district in his hunt for Norman and Spider-Boy. Flames licked at the buildings around him, and the sound of his roars filled the air.
The news broadcasts switched between the chaos caused by Gargan and the mystery of the Oscorp warehouse, painting a grim picture of a city on the brink.
As the battle in the warehouse raged on, Peter found himself pinned beneath a collapsed shelf. Toomes loomed over him, his wings glowing ominously.
"This ends here," Toomes said, raising his gauntlet for a final strike.
Peter gritted his teeth, summoning every ounce of strength to push the shelf off him. "Not… yet," he gasped, rolling out of the way as Toomes' blast hit the ground.
The warehouse trembled from the destruction, its walls beginning to buckle. Both combatants paused as the structure groaned ominously.
Toomes scowled. "You got lucky this time, kid." With a powerful thrust of his wings, he shot through the crumbling roof, disappearing into the night.
Peter collapsed against a nearby crate, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.