"Electro, the plan is off," Tony Stark said to Max Dillon, who had transformed into a bolt of golden electricity weaving through Manhattan's power grid.
"Tony? I've already located the first bomb. I've confirmed it's radio-detonated... Are you sure about aborting the plan?" Max Dillon's voice was laced with confusion.
"Exactly. I don't want to mess this up—or rather, I want to see what our old friend Batman is actually up to," Tony replied.
Standing at the pinnacle of the Empire State Building, Tony Stark had already used the auxiliary functions of his Mark VI armor to spot the Batmobile approaching from the distant streets.
"Meet me at the Empire State Building," Tony tossed out the instruction before diving off the roof. He swooped down, gripped the roof of the Batmobile with both hands, and, with the help of his thrusters, carried it back up to the top of the skyscraper.
Clang, clang.
Tony Stark tapped on the pitch-black windows of the Batmobile.
"Get out, Peter."
The Batmobile remained motionless. Just as Tony Stark was beginning to lose his patience and preparing to hack into the vehicle's systems to force it open, a young, energetic voice rang out from behind him:
"You don't need to open that, sir."
Whoosh!
Iron Man reacted with lightning speed, spinning around as the repulsor in his palm lit up with a charging white glow.
"Please don't tell me you're the 'young man' Batman said he was sending to coordinate with me," Tony Stark said, looking at the figure before him. The newcomer wore a mask with large white lenses and moved with a lithe grace, looking for all the world like a jumping spider.
"That's me, Mr. Stark," the figure replied.
"...You're Spider-Man, right? You were pretty active in New York two months ago. Your picture was in the papers every day back then," Tony Stark said, his tone tinged with a hint of uncertainty.
"Oh my god, Mr. Stark, I'm so happy you know who I am!" Batman said, perfectly mimicking Peter Parker's personality and cadence. "Actually, I've been really busy these past two months, what with schoo—uh, anyway, I've been worried about finding a balance between my two identities. Luckily, besides me, there's also Batman and Iron Man. You know, Mr. Stark, I've always wanted to—"
"Stop, stop, stop," Tony Stark muttered, unable to help himself from clutching his forehead. "Do you always talk this much?"
"Sorry, Mr. Stark, I'm just... I'm just..." Spider-Man stammered, his voice thick with excitement.
Tony Stark held up a hand to stop the rambling youth. He tilted his head slightly and whispered to JARVIS, "JARVIS, pull up all the footage of Spider-Man from two months ago."
"Based on a physical comparison, the current Spider-Man's physique has changed significantly from the records remaining on the network from two months ago," the JARVIS AI replied. "He is much broader."
Tony stole a glance at the muscle definition outlined by the spandex suit. "I can see that."
"Mr. Stark?" Spider-Man chimed in from the side.
"Don't speak yet. I need to contact Batman to confirm his plan," Tony said.
"Batman told me the entire plan before he sent me here. Our first step is to use this Batmobile to conduct a radio sweep of all of Manhattan. Oh, it shouldn't be called the Batmobile right now; it's been modified into a radio signal detector," Spider-Man explained.
Tony Stark felt a dull throb in his temples, as if his head were physically expanding under the weight of Spider-Man's non-stop chatter.
Not daring to engage further, Tony retracted his helmet and signaled with his eyes for Spider-Man to open the Batmobile.
Muttering under his breath, Spider-Man activated the Batmobile. The vehicle began to shift and reconfigure, transforming from its low-slung, four-wheeled combat mode into a vertical, tower-like apparatus.
"Mr. Stark..."
The moment Spider-Man opened his mouth, Tony cut him off. "You can just call me Tony. And if you have something to say, just say it."
Spider-Man nodded vigorously. "Tony, what we need to do now is wait. We let the radio detector scan all of Manhattan. It works by filtering out legitimate broadcast and communication signals, specifically isolating abnormal, silent, or encrypted radio signals."
"By the way, I heard Batman mention there's another cool guy who's covered in electricity. Where is he?"
Tony Stark let out a silent groan. He didn't know what this Spider-Man looked like under the mask, but he was certain of one thing: the kid was incredibly young.
Even though Peter Parker—well, the real Batman—was also young, Peter always maintained a steady, preternatural maturity whether he was in or out of the suit.
But this Spider-Man... ignoring the muscular build, Tony wondered if the kid had even graduated from elementary school. How else could he be such a chatterbox?
"Max, get over here and babysit," Tony whispered to Electro, who was currently en route.
As the words left his lips, Electro arrived. Max Dillon materialized at the top of the Empire State Building in a flash of golden light.
"I've confirmed the locations of all the bombs, but I'm no EOD expert," Max Dillon said, reporting in immediately upon arrival. "Tony, what did you mean by 'babysit'?"
Tony Stark wordlessly pointed toward Spider-Man.
The moment Max Dillon appeared, Spider-Man had taken a massive leap backward. Even through the mask, Tony could sense the intense wariness radiating from him.
"The electric guy! You must be the 'Electro' Max Dillon that Batman mentioned?"
Electro looked at Spider-Man, puzzled. "Yeah, that's me."
"Great! Everyone is in position. I should report to Batman; we're ready to start the next phase of the plan." Spider-Man looked like he wanted to shake Electro's hand, but seeing the electricity crackling across the man's body, he stayed rooted to the spot, his mouth continuing to run a mile a minute.
In the Batcave, Venom Robin sat at the console, watching the live feed from the camera integrated into Spider-Man's lenses.
Venom Robin suspected there was something wrong with his eyes, his brain, or perhaps his entire sensory system. Otherwise, he couldn't explain why Batman—who was usually as cold and unyielding as a slab of granite—would put on a bright spandex suit, pretend to be Spider-Man, and talk without a single moment's pause.
"What on earth is the Old Bat doing?" Venom Robin's tongue flicked out, scooping at least three kilograms of chocolate from a cabinet under the desk and stuffing it into his mouth. "Garrett is trying to use the bombs to force Batman out into the open, so Batman shows up as Spider-Man instead? He's just not going to come out as himself at all?"
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