"Ghost Spider? I don't know, the colors don't scream 'undead' to me," Peter said, tilting his head as he visually dissected her suit. "I still think Spider-Woman is the logical choice. It's consistent. We're the only two people on the planet who got the 8-legged upgrade from a science fair. It's our brand!"
"I'm right here, Peter. I feel like I'm becoming the invisible man of this group," Huang Liang interrupted, his voice dry. He noticed Gwen's subtle shift in posture—a tensing of the shoulders that suggested she was about five seconds away from kicking Peter off the building again.
"No, no! I didn't mean it like that!" Peter waved his hands frantically. "You're vital! The Kung Fu element is what gives us our edge. I was just... implying a biological connection. It wasn't a slight!"
"Your 'implications' are going to get you punched," Gwen muttered under her breath. "And for the record, I don't look like a ghost because I don't intend to stay still long enough for anyone to see me. It's about the vibe, not the—"
WEE-OOO! WEE-OOO!
A distant, frantic alarm cut through the night air, followed by the unmistakable sound of metal being crumpled like a soda can.
All three figures pivoted instantly toward the sound. While Huang Liang's human eyes saw only the twinkling lights of the city blocks away, Peter and Gwen's mutated retinas zoomed in like high-end military optics. Down on a street near the West Side, a nightmare had crawled out of the underworld.
A reptilian monster, over seven feet tall and bulging with unnatural muscle, had burst through the asphalt from the sewers. It was a grotesque sight—a humanoid lizard wearing the tattered remains of a lab coat, walking upright like a man but possessing the raw, primal power of a dinosaur. With a casual flick of its tail, it sent a parked SUV spinning into a storefront. Pedestrians were screaming, scattering like ants as the beast let out a low, vibrating hiss.
"What's the situation?" Huang Liang asked, his hand dropping to his belt.
"Ugly lizard monster. Definitely not a fan of city planning," Peter replied, his voice dropping the humor instantly. "Let's move!"
Peter leaped from the ledge, firing a web-line that caught the corner of a nearby crane, swinging out into the void with practiced ease. Huang Liang followed suit, his own mechanical web-shooters hissing as he trailed Peter. But after a few hundred feet, Huang Liang realized the third member of their trio wasn't with them.
He glanced back. Gwen was still standing on the edge of the skyscraper, looking down at the drop with a look of profound confusion.
Huang Liang sighed and swung back, landing on the ledge beside her. "What's the hold-up? Can't you... you know... do the thing?"
Gwen looked at him, her mask's lenses wide. "Am I supposed to just... produce webs? Out of my wrists? Like a biological faucet?"
Huang Liang froze. "Wait. You mean you can't?"
"Is that a thing?" Gwen asked, her voice rising in disbelief. "Did Spider-Man grow an extra organ for that? Because I definitely didn't get the 'internal silk factory' package."
"Hmm? That's not right," Huang Liang muttered. He realized that despite having the same origin, their mutations were branching in different directions. "Peter's a bit of an anomaly. Most of us have to rely on gear."
He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a spare set of mechanical web-shooters—silver bracers with a pressure-sensitive trigger. "I made these myself. If you want to help, put these on. Fast. Press that middle button to launch, and double-tap to cut the line. Try not to hit a civilian."
Gwen took the devices, her eyes gleaming with a mix of relief and excitement. She snapped them onto her wrists, testing the weight. "High-tech over biological any day. Let's go!"
With a surge of courage, Gwen fired her first line. It caught a brick chimney across the street. She jumped, the sudden jerk of the line sending a jolt through her shoulder, but she quickly adjusted to the rhythmic sway, weaving between the skyscrapers with a grace that surpassed even Peter's frantic swinging.
Down on the street, the Lizard—formerly Dr. Curt Connors—was in the middle of a mental breakdown. Since escaping the ruins of his lab at Oscorp, he had been living in the damp, dark filth of the sewers, specifically hiding in the shadows of an old sub-basement once used by Ivan Vanko. The serum that had promised to regrow his arm had instead regrown his entire identity into something cold and scaly.
He had emerged because he heard the chatter of the city above—people talking about the fall of Norman Osborn and the chaos at the Expo. He wanted revenge on Oscorp, the company that had discarded him, but as he stood in the light of the streetlamps, the sight of "weak" humans disgusted him. He felt like a king among insects. A plan was forming in his primitive brain: why kill them when he could 'evolve' them?
"Hey! Godzilla! Stop right there!"
Peter Parker landed on top of a streetlamp, crouching like a gargoyle. "You're about three million years too late for the Jurassic Park audition, buddy. And that coat? Total fashion disaster."
The Lizard froze. He turned his yellow, slitted eyes toward Peter. "Sssssspider..."
"A-Liang, see if you can hit his pressure points!" Peter shouted as Huang Liang landed nearby. "Maybe we can put him to sleep before he totals the whole block."
Huang Liang shook his head, his eyes fixed on the monster's thick, armored hide. "The Master warned me about this, Peter. You can't use traditional acupuncture on things that have surpassed human limits. His nervous system is shielded by three inches of lizard skin and regenerative scales. We have to go 'hard style' on this one."
BOOM!
The Lizard didn't wait for a debate. He grabbed a nearby sedan and hurled it at the two spiders. Peter and Huang Liang leaped in opposite directions as the car smashed into a hydrant, sending a geyser of water into the air.
"Roar!"
The monster lunged at Peter, his claws raking the air where Peter's head had been a millisecond before. Peter was fast, but the Lizard was a blur of green fury, his tail sweeping across the pavement and cracking the concrete.
"You're fast, but you're still just a bug!" the Lizard hissed, his voice a gravelly rasp.
He moved to grab Peter's leg, but a sudden, sharp gust of wind announced a new arrival.
THUD!
A white blur descended from the sky. Gwen Stacy, utilizing the momentum of a fifty-foot swing, delivered a heroic, two-footed kick squarely into the Lizard's chest. The impact sounded like a sledgehammer hitting a side of beef. The monster was sent skidding backward thirty feet, his claws carving deep grooves in the road.
Gwen did a mid-air flip and landed gracefully on the wet asphalt, her white hood fluttering in the wind. She looked like a professional gymnast finishing a gold-medal routine.