At Midtown High School after fifth period, Peter’s ear comm piece vibrated.
Homer reported into his ear”Sir, I have intercepted a major anomaly in Manhattan”.
“Predictive modeling estimates an infrastructure threat of level 4.
The architecture is determine as Kingpin aka Wilson Fisk”.
Peter entered the janitor’s closet quickly press the side of his smart glasses.
Peter whispered “Homer, you should have been able to detect the crimes or accidents earlier.
What happen?”.
“There is no data footprint to track since Wilson Fisk’s men bypassed digital networks entirely.
He authorized bulk cash transactions through physical courier routes and manipulated existing labor union shipping manifests”.
Peter frowned staring blankly at the chalkboard.
‘An empire built on physical cash and handshakes’ he thought ‘Old school.
Smart’.
“However” Homer continued, “I have patched together bits and pieces of the information by cross-referencing anomalous delivery truck weight variances, localized sewer line maintenance lockouts and sudden disruptions in marine shipping schedules near the East River.
While the exact objective remains obscured, I have calculated four high-probability choke points based on these irregularities”.
Homer said “I have highlighted four precise locations The Midtown Tunnel, The Astoria Substation, The Manhattan Bridge Support Struts and The Federal Reserve Subterranean Transit Line” as he projected a localized map directly onto smart glasses lenses highlighting four precise locations all across Manhattan and data.
The Midtown Tunnel (Anomalous drainage and seismic readings)
The Astoria Substation (Sudden, unexplained copper wire rerouting)
The Brooklyn Navy Yard Warehouse (Surge of electricity and internet usage)
The Federal Reserve Subterranean Transit Line (Encrypted biometric data spikes)
“Each choke point represents a systemic vulnerability” Homer warned.
“If attacked simultaneously, the resulting infrastructure collapse will be overwhelming.
It is too massive for one person to handle”.
Peter’s eyes narrowed behind his smart glass.
He knew exactly what this meant.
‘Fisk is smart and has something in plan’.
“Sir, I have uncovered the second phase of Fisk’s plan.
The infrastructure attack is only a distraction.
The real assault is happening on the digital front”.
“Alright.
What is it?” Peter asked feeling intrigued.
“He has over forty thousand automated accounts and paid black-hat hackers have just activated simultaneously.
They are flood-posting fabricated eyewitness videos, doctored manifestos, and deep-fake audio logs directly onto major news platforms and social media feeds regarding mutant”.
“The narrative claims that mutants are actively trying to take over the world” Homer stated.
“That could have use a lot of funds.
Money trail?” Peter asked.
“Kingpin has fully hidden the money trail by utilizing a highly sophisticated, multi-layered darknet payment protocol.
The transaction was split into thousands of micro-payments using automated, self-destructing escrow accounts funded by cash-to-token physical kiosks in international waters.
On paper, the hackers appear to be funding themselves out of organic anti-mutant radicalism.
There is zero digital evidence linking the payment back to Wilson Fisk”.
Homer explained in great detail.
Peter analytical mind quickly calculating the possible fallout.
“If the public believes the hackers, it won’t matter if the X-Men save the tunnel.
The narrative will already be set.
Fear will override the physical evidence and all blames will fall on the mutants”.
“Correct, sir” Homer agreed.
“The psychological damage to mutant-human relations will be irreversible within the hour”.
“Not if we can rewrite the narrative” Peter said determined baritone.
“Homer, contact the Xavier Institute and give the information to both Jean Grey and Professor Charles Xavier.
Tell them that their mutual wall crawling friend need their help before things get any worse.
By the way, Homer calculate ways to dismantle Kingpin’s plan!” Peter said resolutely.
Few minutes later after Peter climb out of the second floor janitor’s closet window as Spider-man, the door to clicked open completely.
The janitor’s closet was completely empty with the narrow window at the back of the room was wide open.
What the…” Mary Jane Watson muttered, stepping deeper into the cramped space.
She turned in a circle, her heels clicking against the cold concrete floor.
She checked behind the industrial mop buckets.
Nothing.There was absolutely no trace that Peter Parker had ever stepped foot inside the room.
MJ walked over to the open window and leaned out, looking down into the narrow alleyway two stories below.
It was completely empty.
A normal teenager dropping from this height would have broken both legs, yet there were no one there.
She ran a hand through her vibrant red hair, her mind spinning in complete confusion.
From across the hallway, she noticed Peter entering the janitor’s closet.
Feeling curious she followed him but Peter had literally vanished into thin air.
“Interesting!
Where did he disappear to?” MJ whispered to herself, staring blankly at the brick wall across the alley.
Her internal puzzle was interrupted by footsteps behind her.
Gwen Stacy stood in the doorway of the closet, looking around and her eyes locked onto MJ.
“MJ?
What are you doing?”.
MJ slowly turned around, closing the window behind her.
She quickly masked her own confusion with her trademark lazy unbothered smile, crossed her arms.
“Nothing.
Just trying to solve a mystery”.
Gwen looked at MJ in confusion before saying “Ok….
Well hurry up, we need to meet the others for band practice” .
“Alright” MJ said as she followed Gwen before looking back at the janitor’s closet.
“Interesting!!”.
Across the Manhattan Skyline, Peter was already two miles away swinging over the rooftops of Long Island City at a blistering speed.
As Peter pull his knees to his chest to execute a tight, aerodynamic flip before launching another web-line.
“Homer, patch me directly to X-men’s primary frequency,” Peter commanded with his voice dead-level despite the G-force pulling at his suit.
“Open a multi-channel encrypted uplink.
Uplink established, sir” Homer’s synthesized voice chimed in his earpiece.
The line cracked to life with the sound of wind and heavy machinery.
“Spider-Man, Cyclops here” Cyclops’s voice came through, firm and authoritative.
“X-men are in transit.
Sending information regarding X-men’s team members power.
Send the coordinates where you need us”.
“Listen to me, X-men” Peter said executing a flawless, aerodynamic flip before launching a fresh line toward a glass skyscraper.
“Fisk built this trap to exploit your lack of public relations strategy.
Kingpin will try to pin this as a mutant invasion.
So we need to hit them hard and fast before the can implement their plan”.
Peter brought up the tactical map Homer had generated, projecting the four critical choke points directly onto his mask’s heads-up display.
“Here is the allocation” Peter directed sharply:
“Choke Point 1 at The Midtown Tunnel, Storm and Iceman, both of you have a difficult task of possible environmental containment.
They might flood the tunnel, if needed Storm need to pull the river pressure back from the entrance while Iceman flash-freezes the structural breaches from the inside.
Secure the area”.
“Choke Point 2 at The Astoria Substation, “Colossus, Wolverine and Rogue, head to Queens.
The local grid is melting from an EMP back-feed. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
Break the security perimeter, lift the heavy-duty cooling units manually, and act as human circuit dampeners until the main breakers is reset.
“Choke Point 3 at The Brooklyn Navy Yard Warehouse, this is the brain.
Kingpin has a physical server farm here routing hidden payments to thousands of black-hat hackers to flood the internet with anti-mutant propaganda.
Jean, Cyclops and Beast breach that facility, secure the raw access logs and cut his digital army off at the root”.
Finally, Choke Point 4 at The Federal Reserve vault on Wall Street, Fisk’s personal mercenary unit is planning to rob the golds.
That’s my sector, Nightcrawler and Shadowcat will join me”.
Charles Xavier voice came through the line said “An exceptionally plan, Spider-man”.
“Understood” Cyclops replied.
“Don’t get sloppy”.
“Sloppy isn’t in my business model.
By the way, Homer contact FDNY and NYPD to help assist us” Peter muttered as he cut the feed.
With one final massive swing, he launched himself over the rooftops towards Wall Street.
The mercenaries inside the Queens-Midtown Tunnel was busy with their master plan without knowing the approaching X-men.
Dressed in stolen tactical gear to look like mutant radicals, Fisk’s demolition crew pack heavy-duty commercial thermite charges against the primary underwater support columns.
They had already cracked the concrete liner with muddy East River water was spraying into the tunnel in pressurized, deafening jets, forcing trapped commuters to climb onto the roofs of their gridlocked cars in absolute panic.
“Set the secondary timers!” the mercenary leader yelled over the roar of the water.
“If we drop this whole roof segment, the entire river comes down.
The freak spider can’t web up an ocean and the mutant freaks will take the fall!”.
WHOOSH
A sudden, freezing blast of sub-zero wind cut through the humid exhaust-choked tunnel air, turning the spraying river water into instant glittering frost.
The mercenary leader blinked as his tactical visor fogged over “What the…..!!!!”.
“Chill out pal, I mean it!!!
” Iceman voice echoed through the concrete cavern from the dark smoky entrance of the tunnel.
Iceman slid into view on a sleek, glowing ramp of solid ice.
Beside him, Storm hover a few inches off the flooded asphalt, her eyes glowing a stark electric white as localized gale-force winds whipped her dark cape around her.
They had arrived alongside an FDNY rescue squad van.
“Fire!
Cut them down!” the mercenary leader screamed raising his assault rifle.
The criminals opened fire, unleashing a hail of armor-piercing rounds.
But Iceman already moved.
With a casual flick of his wrist, Iceman erected a thick angled wall of reinforced ice directly in front of the stranded commuter cars.
The bullets slammed harmlessly into the frozen barrier, sparking and embedding deep in the frost.
“Ororo, hold the ceiling!
I’ll take the trash out!” Iceman yelled, sliding down his ramp at blinding speed.
Storm raised her hands toward the fractured concrete roof.
“Forces of nature, I command you bring in the power of whirlwind” as she create a localized high-pressure cushion that actively pushed back against the immense weight of the East River forcing its way through the cracks, slowing the deluge to a manageable drip.
Down below, the mercenaries tried to fall back but Iceman wasn’t going to let them run away.
He slid under a hail of gunfire, throwing out his hands to create a wall of ice to blocked their escape route.
One heavy-set enforcer lunged at Iceman with a plasma torch.
Iceman didn’t even flinch, he simply coated his own arm in dense, organic ice, catching the mercenary’s wrist and instantly freezing the weapon’s fuel line until it cracked and shattered.
“You guys picked the wrong city to play construction worker” Iceman smirked delivering a solid frozen hook to the enforcer’s jaw, knocking him out cold.
While Bobby systematically disarmed and webbed—or rather, ice-locked—the remaining mercenaries to the tunnel walls while Storm descended gracefully next to a stalled transit.
Inside, a dozen terrified civilians were staring out the windows, eyes wide with fear.
A young father holding his daughter looked at Storm’s white eyes, clutching the child tighter.
Storm didn’t offer a dramatic superhero speech.
She simply turned to a team of FDNY rescue workers who had just sprinted into the zone with heavy-duty structural jacks.
“Chief” Storm called out to the fire captain, her voice projecting clearly over the wind.
“The water pressure is contained for the next twenty minutes.
My ally is reinforcing the fractured columns with industrial-grade ice.
Deploy your men to evacuate the vehicles from the center lane now.
We will hold the line”.
The fire chief looked at the frozen support pillars, then at the glowing goddess holding back a river.
He raised his whistle.
“You heard her!
All squads, move in!
Assist the civilians!
The mutants are securing our flank!”.
As the firefighters rushed forward to help commuters off their cars, a news cameraman who had been trapped in the gridlock raised his portable lens, capturing the entire sequence live.
There were no rogue mutant terrorists chanting slogans.
There was only a synchronized, highly professional rescue operation.
Fisk’s digital lie was unraveling in real-time under the raw weight of public utility.The tunnel is secure, but the battle for New York is far from over.
At another are Astoria, blue emergency flares from NYPD blockades painted the smoke-filled streets of Astoria in jagged strokes of crimson and violet.
At the heart of the crisis, the central electrical substation was screaming.
Fisk’s mercenaries had fed a massive, weaponized electromagnetic pulse backward into the grid, turning the massive transformers into ticking thermal bombs.
Rogue flew in and dig her gloved fingers directly into the steel casing.
With a grunt, she lifted the massive machinery over her head and slam it back into its alignment brackets, sealing the ruptured coolant lines with her bare hands.
With the heavy lifting managed, the mercenaries attempted to detonate a secondary payload to ensure the grid melted down completely.
SNIKT.
The distinctive, lethal sound of six adamantium claws unsheathing sliced through the hum of the electricity.
Wolverine dropped from a high cable line directly into the center of the demolition squad, his leather jacket smelling of cigar smoke.
“Kingpin should’ve hired better help” Logan growled, his eyes narrowing.
A mercenary lunged at him with a high-frequency shock-baton, slamming the electrical weapon directly into Logan’s chest.
The massive current fried the leather jacket and scorched his skin but Wolverine didn’t even take a step back.
His advanced healing factor knit the cells back together instantly.
Wolverine grabbed the baton, snapped it over his knee and used the flat of his fist to send the enforcer crashing through a stack of plastic supply crates.
Wolverine moved with feral, terrifying efficiency, he didn’t use the sharp edges of his claws to lethal effect.
Remembering the public relations warning, he used the heavy adamantium blocks of his knuckles and the blunt sides of his blades to systematically shatter the mercenaries’ weapons, disarm their gear and pin them to the concrete floor
Mr.
Henderson, the human engineer Colossus had partnered with weeks prior was trapped behind a locked security screen, frantically throwing switches to prevent a systemic blackout of Queens.
“The manual ground wire is severed!” Henderson screamed through the glass.
“If we don’t ground this surge, the whole borough burns out!”.
Colossus didn’t hesitate.
He tore the reinforced security door off its hinges with a single pull.
Walking straight into the high-voltage chamber where white-hot arcs of stray electricity were leaping across the room, his organic steel form absorbed the blinding currents.
“Piotr, no!
It’s too much voltage!” Rogue cried out, dropping down next to the console.
“I can hold it!” Colossus ground his metallic teeth, grabbing the severed ten-inch copper ground cable with his right hand and slamming his left hand directly onto the main steel grounding pylon.
His chrome body became a literal, living lightning rod.
The immense electrical surge intended to blind half of New York traveled smoothly through his organic metal frame, bypassing the delicate human machinery and dissipated safely into the deep bedrock beneath the city
The diagnostic monitors in the station instantly stabilized.
The emergency alarms stopped shrieking.
Mr.
Henderson stared through the glass at the towering Russian mutant who was still crackling with blue static electricity.
He didn’t see a terrorist.
He didn’t see a menace.
He saw a man who had just saved his life and the livelihoods of three million people.
“Kid’s strategy worked” Wolverine muttered, wiping a streak of mercenary blood off his chin as he looked at the gathered human workers who were now rushing forward to assist Colossus. New chapters come out on g.com first.
Elsewhere, the smell of saltwater and rotting timber hung heavy over the Brooklyn Navy Yard.
Inside Warehouse 4, behind rows of rusted shipping containers, sat the pulsing heart of Kingpin’s state-of-the-art, liquid-cooled server farm humming with millions of operations per second.
Dozens of Fisk’s black-hat hackers sat under flickering monitors, monitoring the automated bot-nets that were systematically drowning the internet in fabricated anti-mutant propaganda.
CRASH.
The massive reinforced corrugated steel doors of the warehouse didn’t just bend, they were entirely ripped off their tracks.
After that, the steel doors flew forty feet across the room and crush a row of equipment racks.
Beast bounded through the smoke, his massive blue-furred form executing a flawless acrobatic flip off a steel gantry.
He landed squarely on a central terminal desk, sending keyboards and monitors flying.”I must apologize for the lack of formal appointments” Hank McCoy boomed with his voice deeply intellectual despite his feral appearance.
“But we are here to perform an emergency system purge!”.
A squad of Kingpin’s heavily armed guards opened fire with automated sub-machine guns.
Before the bullets could cross the floor, a brilliant, crimson line of pure concussive force tore through the room.
Cyclops stepped into the breach, his optic blast slicing perfectly through the mercenaries’ weapons, melting the firing pins and sending the men flying into the padded walls.
“Beast!
Secure the primary data mainframe!” Cyclops commanded with his ruby-quartz visor sweeping the room for targets.
“Jean, keep those hackers away from the kill-switches!”.
“Already on it, Scott” Jean Grey replied calmly.
She walked into the warehouse, her eyes glowing with a faint iridescent blue light.
With a simple wave of her hand, a dozen hackers who were frantically trying to execute self-destruct sequences on their terminals were physically lifted out of their chairs.
They hung helplessly in mid-air, suspended by a flawless telekinetic grip.
At the same time, her telepathic mind swept through the room like a localized EMP, painlessly causing all the hackers to start fainting and falling to the ground like dead flies.
“Fascinating” Beast murmured, his spectacles reflecting the blue light of the terminal.
“The encryption architecture is standard military-grade”.
“Can you trace it back to Kingpin, Hank?” Cyclops asked, keeping his back to Beast as he monitored the entrance.
“If I were using standard federal forensic software?
No” Hank grinned, his fangs flashing in the neon glow.
“But thanks to the specialized decryption algorithms our arachnid friend forwarded to us, I am currently bypassing the darknet proxies entirely.
“Look here, Jean”.
Jean walked over, as she looked at the screen.
On the massive central monitor, the multi-layered micro-payments began to untangle themselves, folding back into a singular, massive, physical cash-to-token transaction routed directly from a shell corporation wholly owned by Kingpin.
The files also contained the raw access logs, the doctored deep-fake videos of the tunnel collapse, and the specific scripts given to the paid hackers to frame the mutants.
“We have the proof” Jean said, her voice tight with vindication.
“Don’t just download it, Beast” Cyclops ordered with a grim, satisfied smile forming on his lips.
“Link this terminal straight to the internet.
Dump the raw files, the payment receipts, and the decryption keys directly onto the front page of every major news network in the world.
Let the public see exactly how much money Kingpin spent to buy their fear”.
“Initiating the broadcast now” Beast chuckled, slamming his massive finger onto the enter key.
Across the globe, every anti-mutant forum, every live-streamed news broadcast, and every social media timeline suddenly stuttered.
As massive dump of information is leaked online.
“Spider-man was right” Jean whispered to Scott.
“Actions speak louder than words”.
Deep beneath the streets of Wall Street, the pristine white corridors of the Federal Reserve vault were filled with the sound of whirring high-tech drills.
Fisk’s elite mercenary crew, the Wild Pack, had already breached the secondary reinforced vault gate.
They weren’t only loading bags of gold or bearer bonds but also having the technician was rapidly copying the city’s encrypted biometric property registries into a hardened storage drive.
“Hurry up!” the mercenary commander barked, checking his tactical watch.
“The grid is down, but that web-slinging freak isn’t bound by traffic.
Secure that drive before….”
BAMF.
A sudden cloud of sulfurous violet smoke erupted directly in front of the terminal.
Before the commander could even raise his weapon, a furry blue hand shot out of the haze.
Nightcrawler snatched the hardened drive straight out of the server rack, executed a mid-air backflip and vanished with a second, sharp BAMF leaving the mercenaries aiming at empty air.
“Contacts!
We’ve got mutants in the vault!” a guard screamed.
“And an auditor” Peter said from the ceiling.
Peter dropped from the high concrete arches, falling gracefully into the center of the mercenary formation.
THWIP!
THWIP!
With two blindingly fast shots, Peter webbed the firing pins of the heavy assault rifles, disabling the primary weaponry before a single round could be chambered.
“Form a defensive perimeter!” the commander roared before pulling a high-frequency shock-baton.
Three heavy enforcers lunged forward, aiming their electrified weapons directly at Peter’s chest.
Instead of dodging backward, Peter stood his ground.
Right as the batons were about to pierce his suit, Shadowcat sprinted directly through the solid concrete wall of the vault.
Kitty Pryde grabbed Peter’s arm, instantly turning both of them entirely intangible.
The mercenaries’ electrified batons passed completely through their bodies, striking their own allies on the opposite side of the circle in a chaotic shower of accidental blue sparks.
“Thanks for the phase shift, Shadowcat” Peter said, his voice entirely calm.
“Anytime, Spider-Man” Kitty smirked, dropping her grip as they solidified.
Before saying “Take ’em down!”.
Peter didn’t hesitate.
Moving with the terrifying fluid speed of his enhanced physiology, he used the mercenaries’ own momentum against them.
He executed a sweep kick that took out two guards, then launched a web-line onto the commander’s belt, ripping him forward into a heavy, non-lethal clothesline that knocked him out cold against the vault floor.
Two remaining mercenaries scrambled backward, pulling sidearms and backing up against the massive, solid steel vault door to protect their flanks.
“You can’t touch us!” one yelled, his hands shaking.
Shadowcat simply walked forward, entirely ignoring the gunfire as the bullets slipped harmlessly through her molecularly out-of-sync form.
She reached straight through the solid steel vault door, grabbed the internal locking mechanisms and phased them completely out of alignment.
With a deafening groan of grinding metal, the twenty-ton vault door detached from its hinges and began to slide forward.
Nightcrawler materialized out of a violet flash right above the panicking guards, grabbing their collars.
BAMF.
He teleported them safely into an empty locked holding cell fifty feet down the hall, leaving them entirely neutralized.
Peter landed lightly next to Shadowcat, his mask lenses expanding as he checked the diagnostic monitors.
Homer’s voice chimed smoothly in his ear.
“Sir, the data download has been completely terminated.
Furthermore, the X-Men at the server farm have successfully leaked the payment records.
Wilson Fisk’s network is officially dismantled”.
Peter give Nightcrawler and Shadowcat, an appreciative nod.
“Good job”.
“That was” Nightcrawler smiled, wiping a bit of sulfur soot off his blue fur.
Before Peter could reply, his spider-sense started tingling
“Get down!” Peter roared, his voice stripping away all analytical detachment.He didn’t use words to explain.
He grabbed Shadowcat by her collar and lunged backward, his enhanced muscles coiling as he tackled her out of the center aisle.
SHROOOM!
A hyper-compressed blast of sonic concussive energy tore through the vault’s air, vaporizing the area that Peter had been standing on just half a second ago.
The walls hummed with agonizing resonance.
Out of the burning dust of the destroyed corridor walked Bullseye casually tossing a razor-sharp, custom-weighted scalpel between his fingers.
His target logo was painted starkly across his forehead, and his eyes were completely devoid of sanity.
Behind him stood Klaw with his prosthetic sonic cannon glowing with volatile red energy alongside Avalanche a rogue mutant mercenary whose hands were already vibrating sending deep structural fissures through the Federal Reserve’s concrete floor.
“Oh, Shit!” Shadowcat cursed out loudly with Nightcrawler exclaiming in German “Mein Gott!”.