202. Lights Out, Fangs Out. (Patreon)

Gwen POV:

The SUV looked like a normal luxury black vehicle.

It wasn’t.

If someone cracked open the chassis, they’d find enough firepower to embarrass a small nation. Directed-energy countermeasures, micro-missile pods, EMP foggers, layered shielding and a defensive AI that could probably argue law better than half the attorneys in Manhattan.

My husband called it a “private security prototype.”

I called it married to a terrifying genius.

The frame was Vibranium-S reinforced. Peter’s safer alternative after shelving Lithium Triteride applications. He once explained the nuclear compression potential to me over breakfast like he was describing pancake recipes.

I love the man and I also sometimes fear the man.

A convoy followed behind us: SUVs, PDNY cruisers, federal vehicles, FBI Corporate Financial Fraud, FDA Ethical Experimentation, Parker PMC units. Two Spartans in YGGDRASIL Mk. I heavy assault armor gliding like silent giants above the formation.

Gravity Control Units hummed softly.

Peter’s pride and joy.

His first great breakthrough in his previous life, endlessly refined. He upgrades that tech like a guitarist chasing the perfect tone.

I adjusted my blazer and glanced at my reflection in the tinted window. Formal wear, hair tied back in a short ponytail. No mask, no spider suit just Gwen Stacy-Parker, corporate executioner of consequences.

Funny how life goes.

I used to worry about band practice schedules and dismantling crime rings.

Now I schedule corporate and crime ring dismantlings. I mean one can argue that only the scale and method changed.

We rolled to a stop before Oscorp Tower.

The building still made something twist in my chest.

History lived here.

Pain lived here.

Change lived here.

The doors opened and we stepped out.

Oscorp security approached with the usual corporate bravado then they saw the Spartans.

Rifles lowered and hands up. Smart men.

“Donald Menken can’t escape,” I said calmly. “Search for vaults, hidden caches, experimental labs, illegal inventory. You already know what to look for.”

My voice carried easily.

Harry and Felicia walked behind me.

I didn’t need to look to know Harry’s expression. Half hesitation and the other half relief. The weight of the Osborn name had been strangling him for years.

Norman Osborn loved brilliance more than people. He would’ve adopted Peter just to own his brain.

Too bad for him Peter already had a family and apparently me.

We entered the lobby. Employees froze. No one resisted. The Feds ignored the workers. We were here for the rot at the top.

My wristwatch chimed.

“Mrs. Parker,” Clanker said smoothly, “all escape routes, sewer access and hidden passages are secured. Castaferrum drones are active.”

“Good,” I replied. “Let’s finish the set.”

Harry snorted quietly. “You just compared a federal raid to a concert.”

I shrugged. “Every show needs a finale.”

We took the elevator.

Beside us outside, YGGDRASIL Spartans simply floated upward with graviton propulsion.

Show-offs.

The floors ticked by.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Top floor.

The boardroom doors opened.

Every shareholder was present.

Except Menken.

No speeches or drama just the cold click of magcuffs.

One by one.

Their protests blurred into background noise.

Then...

ALARMS.

Clanker’s voice blared across every comm channel.

WARNING!!! DONALD MENKEN HAS INJECTED IMPERFECT ARANEUS OSCORPEUS VENOM!!! HE HAS STOLEN A PROTOTYPE COMBAT GLIDER AND STIMULANTS!!! HE HAS LEFT THE PREMISES!!!

I exhaled slowly.

Of course he had.

I tapped my earpiece.

“All Spartans and PMC units, deploy to all Parker Industries sensitive sites. Hostile enhanced individual: Donald Menken. Unknown mental state. Terminate on contact.”

We moved to the breched vault.

Inside sat the Araneus Oscorpeus vials.

Five remaining.

I picked them up and stored them in a containment case.

“These don’t go to the government.” I muttered. “Last thing we need is a budget meeting turning people into spider-monsters.”

Felicia smirked. “You sound like Peter.”

“Don’t tell him that. He’ll start charging me licensing fees.” I joked.

Then every screen in the building flickered.

Static.

A face appeared.

Electro.

“People of New York… your protector Spider-Woman—Iron Spider—Archangel of the Web… left me in the dark. So now… I take your light.”

The city outside dimmed.

Then died.

Power outage.

Blackout.

Everywhere…

Except Parker Tower and Avengers Tower.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Fuck me sideways.” I groaned.

Harry blinked. “Is that the official crisis response?”

“Yes,” I said. “Step two is fixing it.”

And in the back of my mind, I already knew:

Peter was five steps ahead.

He always was.

Pepper POV:

I woke strapped to a vertical medical rig.

No panic.

Just awareness.

My body felt… aligned.

That’s the only word for it.

No disconnect between thought and motion. No delay between intent and action. My muscles obeyed like they were reading my mind.

Combat data lived in my head. Angles, weak points and vulnerable spots. I knew how to fight professionally and with deadly intent.

One name surfaced in my thoughts.

Peter.

Only Peter Parker would figure out how to interface cognition and muscle memory without turning a person into a puppet. He didn’t overwrite people, he optimized them.

He turned dormant potential into reality.

I burned through the restraints.

The metal glowed, softened and parted.

A guard rushed me, skin blazing with Extremis regeneration.

I moved without thinking.

A pivot, a kick and a twist.

His head separated cleanly.

I stepped out onto the deck.

Killian waited.

Smug. Arms open.

“Like the upgrades, sweetheart?”

Heat crawled up my spine.

“I am not your sweetheart.” I snapped.

I charged but before I could reach him the platform shook.

The air temperature dropped violently. Frost crawled along steel.

Mist rolled in.

Blue and gold lights cut through the fog.

Two silhouettes emerged.

One cocky, one calm.

Tony and Peter.

Relief hit me so hard it almost hurt.

I leapt straight into Tony’s arms.

“Is it you in there?” I asked.

His visor lifted. He winked. “Last I checked.”

I laughed breathlessly.

Behind him, Peter stood like winter given human form. His arm was glowing blue like a controlled and focused blizzard. Which upon closer examination turns out to be some sort of cryogenic weapon.

Killian didn’t look smug anymore.

“You’re so fucked.” I told him.

And since all this began…

I believed Christmas might still be saved.