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Middle-aged Peter B. Parker looked at the ranks of black-clad assassins and frowned. Even with their superhuman speed, there was no way the group could cross that open cavern without being seen.
"This is bad," he whispered. "I've fought The Hand before. They don't run, they don't hide, and they don't care if they die. Once they see us, they'll swarm us until we're buried under a mountain of bodies. Someone has to draw them away. I'll go."
As Peter B. crouched to leap, Peter reached out and caught his shoulder.
"Wait. I didn't spend three days in a basement just to send you on a suicide mission. Have you forgotten about my 'assistant'?"
Peter tapped his upgraded phone. "Deep Blue, it's time. Let's show them a real numbers game. Clear a path."
"Mission accepted, Master," Deep Blue replied, its voice cool and digital.
Click-clack! Click-clack!
From the darkness of the tunnels behind them, a mechanical rustle grew into a roar. Hundreds of small, fist-sized spider robots surged forward. They didn't move like insects; they moved like mercury, flowing across the floor and up the walls with terrifying speed.
The first Hand ninja didn't even have time to scream. A robot leaped from the shadows, its eight legs snapping like a trap around his throat.
Swish!
A razor-thin blade concealed in the robot's leg carved a perfect line across the ninja's neck. With a soft poof, the assassin turned into a cloud of black ash and vanished.
The other ninjas reacted instantly. They drew their katanas with a single, synchronized ring of steel and charged the swarm. The cavern exploded into chaos. Steel met titanium; organic fanatics met cold, calculated AI. Every time a robot was crushed by a blade, two more took its place. Deep Blue, now boosted by Doc Ock's super-processor, was managing every single robot's movements with god-like precision.
The Charge
"Now!" Peter shouted, his voice amplified by his suit's speakers. "Go, go, go!"
Peter ignited his thrusters, leading the charge. Gwen followed right behind him, her white hood snapping in the wind as she swung on a web. Peter B. Parker moved into a protective formation with Peni and Miles, keeping the younger Spiders safe from any ninjas who broke through the robot swarm.
Only Shadow Spider-Man stayed behind.
He didn't move an inch. Instead, he unslung the heavy metal case from his back. He lay flat on the cold rock, propping the massive barrel of Venom Sting on a steady ledge. His black trench coat made him a ghost in the shadows.
Through his high-powered scope, the world slowed down. He ignored the hundreds of ninjas below. He was looking for big game.
At the far end of the cavern, four silhouettes emerged from the smoke: Scorpion, Tombstone, Prowler, and the Ultimate Green Goblin. Kingpin's elite guards—the "Kingpin's Four."
"Norman Osborn," Shadow Spider-Man whispered, his breath steady. "I killed you once in my world. Now, I'll do it in this one."
He centered the crosshairs on the Goblin's massive, horned forehead just as the creature took flight, roaring a challenge.
BOOM!
The muzzle flash lit up the tunnel like a lightning strike. The recoil punched into Shadow's shoulder, a heavy, satisfying kick.
A mile away, a fountain of green-black blood erupted from the Goblin's skull. His roar turned into a wet gurgle. His wings faltered, and the giant monster plummeted from the sky like a broken plane.
The rest of the villains froze. They hadn't even seen their enemy yet, and their strongest member was already down.