Spider-Man of Earth 65

The skies of New York were of peace. Tour-copters did plague the sky as well as the NYPD. But this was SHIELD. This was a reinforced helicopter that could withstand all the missiles of this world and carpet bomb a whole city. Triple the size of an ordinary copter, it was the best of the best in order to seal the best.

The Chameleon.

It was time for her to be transferred over to a special SHIELD facility. Her shape-shifting was too dangerous to keep her in the prison where they kept everyone else. Criminals such as Matt Murdock and Cindy Moon. They knew she was connected to them and they knew she could cause too much trouble for the guards. So they took her elsewhere. Some place where nobody would be fooled by her disguises. 

The Chameleon sat restrained in her seat, her wrists and ankles bound in energy cuffs. There was no escaping. There was no leaving. There was only obedience. 

She was not getting out. 

Captain Samantha Wilson—known to the world as Captain America—stood directly next to the chair-bound spy. Any unwanted movement and she would slam her Proto-Adamantium shield into her chest. 

So far, everything was going well.

Then the world turned red.

"WARNING! WARNING! EMERGENCY AT NEW YORK CITY! ATOMIC BOMB LEVELS OF RADIATION DETECTED!" 

Loud. Terrifying. Unexpected. Puzzled looks were exchanged between the agents.

One agent pressed a finger to his ear. "Status report. What's going on?"

No answer from anybody. The alarms kept going on and on, drumming their ears. Captain Wilson glanced between the lights, the SHIELD guards with her, and toward the cockpit. An agent from the cockpit opened the door and announced, "It seems that we're detecting something big up ahead. Lots of radiation too."

"Radiation...?" Captain Wilson narrowed her eyes, then glanced over when she heard it.

Laughter.

A gag wrapped around the Chameleon's mouth, though not tight enough to silence the occasional laugh that slipped past her lips. Her muffled laugh wouldn't have heard through the alarm if not for the keen ears of the super soldier.

Captain America narrowed her eyes. "What's so funny?" 

Red hair and red eyes. The Chameleon tilted her head up. She was thoroughly amused. Though her gag muffled her voice, the chuckle that escaped was dripping with malice.

Samantha signaled to a SHIELD agent, who cautiously removed the gag. The Chameleon worked her jaw for a moment before speaking

"Thank you for letting me speak," the Chameleon said, her tone sweetly venomous. "I'm so glad that you're taking me out of the city."

"Samantha's eyes narrowed. "Glad? You're being transported to the most secure SHIELD facility on the planet."

"Tell me, are we out of New York yet or not?"

Captain Wilson considered her answer. "Not yet."

"Oh. Ohhh. Well then, heh, I suppose there is nothing to be glad about. Apologies."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

The Chameleon could not move and simply smiled. "The mighty Captain America, delivering the infamous Chameleon to justice. It's a headline worthy of the history books, isn't it?"

Samantha didn't reply.

"Congratulations. Out of everything you have done in your life, this is most certainly the most pointless. It's already too later."

The helicopter's communications system grew louder and louder.

"WARNING! WARNING! EMERGENCY AT NEW YORK CITY! EMERGENCY AT NEW YORK CITY! ATOMIC BOMB LEVELS OF RADIATION DETECTED! I REPEAT: ATOMIC BOMB LEVELS OF RADIATION DETECTED!"

"I told you, didn't I? By the end of this week…"

The helicopter suddenly shook and every agent save Captain America lost their hold. 

"Half of you will die."

The SHIELD helicopter was state-of-the-art, an engineering marvel designed to withstand almost any missile the world could throw at it. Reinforced titanium-alloy plating covered its frame, equipped with electromagnetic countermeasures and enough firepower to outgun a small army. Yet, in this moment, none of that seemed to matter.

A sudden lurch.

It wasn't turbulence—no, this was different. Violent. Jarring.

"Brace!" the pilot shouted from the cockpit. The door was open, they could see everything, or rather nothing. The cameras that showed a 360 view of everything, they were malfunctioning. The only thing that did work was the classic echolocation monitor which was picking up a behemoth to their east...!

The helicopter tilted, shuddering violently as though an enormous, invisible hand had gripped it mid-flight. Alarms blared, a deafening cacophony that drowned out the crew's frantic voices.

"What the hell is happening?" Captain Samantha Wilson barked, gripping one of the overhead handrails to steady herself.

"Engines are failing! We're losing altitude!" the co-pilot yelled over the screaming warning sirens.

From her seat, the Chameleon smiled—a chilling, knowing grin—as if she understood what was happening. "I'm so happy. If I can't succeed, then none of you should succeed."

"Shut her up!" one of the agents snapped, but before anyone could act, the entire helicopter jolted violently downward.

"Hold on!" the pilot screamed.

The reinforced frame groaned under immense pressure, a deep, bone-rattling sound that sent a chill down everyone's spine. It felt as if something massive had grabbed the helicopter—something with strength far beyond anything human.

The agents exchanged wide-eyed looks, terror etched into their faces.

"This can't be—"

Another jolt. Harder this time.

Captain Wilson slammed into the wall, her shield clanging against the metal interior. "Status report!"

"Controls are unresponsive! It's like…like we're being held!" the pilot stammered, his voice cracking with panic.

A sickening sound filled the cabin: the high-pitched screech of metal being torn apart.

One of the agents gasped, pointing toward the back of the helicopter. "What the hell is that?"

A massive claw—jagged, monstrous, and impossibly large—pierced through the reinforced plating. Greenish liquid dripped from the claw, sizzling as it hit the floor, eating through the metal like acid.

"Oh my God…"

The claw retracted, only for another to rip through the roof, peeling it back like the lid of a tin can. The frigid night air rushed in, bringing with it an unnatural, oppressive silence.

"Everyone stay calm!" Captain America ordered. 

The helicopter shuddered again, tilting violently as if being lifted. Samantha grabbed the nearest railing, her shield already in hand.

"Get us out of here!" she shouted at the pilot.

"I can't! Engines are completely offline!"

The helicopter continued to ascend, higher and higher, the wind whipping through the exposed interior. Then, everything stopped.

For a moment, there was silence.

Utter, bone-chilling silence.

The kind that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

Then came the sound—a low, guttural growl that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It vibrated through the helicopter, through their bones, through their very souls.

"What…what is that?" an agent whispered. So much training, so much supernatural and yet this…

This was what got them. This was what caused their legs to shake and their wills to collapse. 

Samantha's grip on her shield tightened. 

A shadow loomed over them, impossibly large and unnerving. It blocked out the moonlight, plunging the helicopter into an eerie greenish glow.

And then, they saw it.

A face.

No, not a face—an abomination.

Two massive, glowing green eyes stared at them, each as large as the helicopter itself. The creature's breath hit them, hot and rancid, carrying with it the scent of decay and something…unnatural.

The creature opened its mouth, revealing rows of jagged teeth, all thrice the size of a man. The interior of its throat glowed with a sickly green light, growing brighter and brighter with each passing second.

"Oh no," Samantha whispered.

The green light intensified, illuminating the cabin with an unholy glow. The creature's chest swelled, its growl escalating into a deafening roar.

"WARNING! GAMMA RADIATION DETECTED!" a mechanical voice blared from the helicopter's emergency system. "GAMMA...GAMMA...GMMAMM...GMMM...."

Pointless. It was all so pointless. The souls of the agents. The engine of the helicopter. The technology intended to protect them. All of it became pointless.

Only Captain America was able to muster up a semblance of courage. "Brace yourselves!"

Oh, how pointless. 

The glow reached its peak, bathing everything in an otherworldly green light.

And then, everything went white.

It was the last time the Chameleon laughed.

***

'What the hell…?'

What was that?

Did that thing just crush and throw aside a SHIELD helicopter? Herbie in real time informed him what thing was made of. No way. No fucking way. 

"That's a kaiju…"

A kaiju. A giant monster. 

The screen flickered, cutting through the static of the live feed. On it, Christine Everhart clung to the helicopter's safety handle. Her usually immaculate hair was whipped into chaos by the rotor wash, and the camera tilted erratically as the helicopter struggled to stay steady.

"This is Christine Everhart, reporting live from above the New York Aquarium," her voice trembled, trying to maintain its professional edge. But fear was evident in her tone. "This...is the closest we can go before the live stream cuts off. W-what we're witnessing is unlike anything I've ever seen. Ladies and gentlemen, the reports were true. A massive...mutated creature—this lizard—it's...it's…"

The camera panned to the kaiju below. The thing was a living nightmare: scales the color of green decay and of gamma-irradiated bile. A bipedal reptilian creature with large black dorsal plates running down back, the remainder of its body was bloated, grotesque, with tumors pulsating under its skin. Every step it took crushed entire roads and cars. 

Taller than a skyscraper. Taller than what the reporting helicopter could go.

Christine's voice cut back in. "The gamma radiation levels are...are catastrophic! The Geiger counters are—" She was cut off as the helicopter jolted violently.

The kaiju had turned, its elongated tail swinging, and the force of it all blew the helicopter away. The feed was cut.

Frozen on an image of a creature that should not exist.

Spider-Man's heart rate started racing like never before.

"Hey, uh, Spidey? Mind getting me out of these?"

Silence. 

No, contemplation. This woman did not matter, not in the slightest. He had to go back. He had to. 

Rio, Miles...

Everyone...!

New York City!

'New York is a six hour drive from here. How am I going to get all the way there from here—no, wait. Altitude. Height. If I slingshot myself approximately…' He did the math in his head. '...two thousand feet and activate my web-swings, I might be able to—' 

"Helllooo~? Spidey? Spidey! Look, I'm not joking here! I-I have a sister over at New York! Please!"

He turned. Silence. No, not a sister…

That look in his lenses, the silent body expressions, she knew he figured it out.

Black Cat swallowed hard and continued, her voice rising. "My…my counterpart of this world, Felicia Hardy the singer, I'm sure you've at least heard of her. She's in New York. I can't just stand here while that thing walks. I have to go!"

'Those letters…another world…now it all makes sense.' 

This Black Cat was Felicia Hardy from another world, a counterpart to the dark-skinned singer of this world.

He had no time to deal with her pleas or her concerns. New York was in danger, and every second counted. Without hesitation, he ripped apart the webbing that bound her. The strands snapped under his strength like thread.

Black Cat back-flipped to her full height, free. "Thank you." She looked at him, hoping for some reassurance, but his gaze was already back on the screen. He didn't acknowledge her words, didn't make a sound. His focus was absolute. He was calculating everything in his head. He was visualizing a map of America—which he had memorized in middle school—and the distance he would have to traverse. The angle, the speed, the strength…

Oh, fuck, but first he had to get out of here...!

"I can get us out," Black Cat said quickly, pulling a small device from her belt. It was sleek and metallic, with glowing blue circuits running along its edges. "This is how I got in. It's a short-range teleporter. Thirty feet, max. It'll get us past the gates without setting off any alarms."

Spider-Man glanced at the device and gave a curt nod. She pressed a button and a shimmering portal opened in front of them. 

Spider-Man did blink or contemplate too deeply on it. They stepped through together, emerging just outside the heavily secured perimeter of the vineyard. The cold night air hit them as the portal closed behind them. Only the sleeping guard was here. The stoic one was gone. Good.

She pressed a button on her belt and zooming onto the road was a black bike. This was just any self-driving bike, this looked like it was built by Spencer Smythe. 

Ah. Was this perhaps a piece of tech she got from her own universe? It appeared freshly repaired...

"Gotta go! Sorry!"

Off she went. 

Spider-Man did the same, running and launching himself into the air. She had her worries and he had his. First, he had to get to the Rust Bucket. 'The Big Time Suit doesn't have web-wings. It's not compatible with it. I have to change to the Superior Suit—' 

Spider-Man felt it something he had never felt before. Mid-air, hovering over some trees, his Spider-Sense flared violently. His feet touched the top of the tree and jumped again. He glanced over his shoulder.

Something was perched on top of the gate. Something was sitting there and watching. A dark figure that unlike him could not go invisible—yet like him, could reach there and sit there with confidence. 

His lenses zoomed in. He was jumping, going further and further away. 

The darker figure's back seemed to…shift. 

Spider-Man's chest tightened. He knew this feeling. Herbie knew what this was too.

The Symbiote.

He landed on a high branch of an old oak tree, perched like a silent predator, and peered back toward the vineyard. The silhouette was feminine, graceful, and terrifyingly wrapped in a black Symbiote. Wisps of red were joined in too. 

A red and black Symbiote…

Gwen Stacy.

Spider-Man's fingers flexed, his instincts screaming at him to go back, to join with the woman who possessed the same powers as him. But his rational mind held him back. He couldn't. Not now. New York needed him. Rio and Miles needed him. That kaiju—the devastation—it came first.

He was Spider-Man. He was a hero. These powers and their wants, they came second to everything else in his life.

He swallowed hard. His grip on the branch tightened until the wood creaked. Every fiber of his spider-soul screamed for him to act, but he forced himself to turn away.

His mission was clear.

He fired a web-line and swung toward the Rustbucket.