Laughter echoed through the night sky as Spider-Man, who's been absent for so ti, made his dramatic return...
Unlike his usual playful taunting of criminals, New York's friendly neighborhood hero seed to be in an unusually foul mood tonight, striking without restraint. Every criminal lurking on the streets was rcilessly beaten.
"I'm Spider-Man, a superhero!"
The black-clad figure scaled and leaped between towering buildings before suddenly plumting from the sky. A web-line carried him swiftly past speeding traffic below. The unparalleled thrill and the swelling satisfaction in his chest propelled him higher and farther.
This newly returned Spider-Man had undergone subtle changes. His usual red suit had turned a deep black, blending into the night, and he had beco far more talkative.
"You really don't learn, do you, punk? This is my turf. It's because of Spider-Man beating down scum like you that New York stays safe!"
After taking down a car thief, Spider-Man struck several heroic poses for a cara fixed to a lamppost with webbing, while the bruised criminal beside him made for a stark contrast.
This black-suited Spider-Man was nothing like his usual self... not only was he ruthless, but he was also incessantly chatty...
"I'm so sick of you criminals. When do I get to face a real challenge? A world-ending supervillain would be perfect! *Dun-dun-dun-dun!* Spider-Man swoops in at the last second to save the day... now that's a perfect script. But where are the actors?"
Perched atop a skyscraper, Spider-Man grumbled to himself, oblivious to the changes in his personality. A dark, creeping influence amplified his frustrations, eroding the once-kind and righteous hero like a parasitic virus.
His feet clung firmly to a glass window as he studied his reflection, flashing a grin that was utterly unlike Peter Parker's usual deanor. He could faintly sense the black suit's side effects, but it enhanced his strength, reflexes, and agility... The sudden surge of power was intoxicating.
No one could resist this feeling, least of all him.
mories of his recent powerless days (the agony of being ordinary, the helplessness against thugs) flashed through his mind. Though he had regained his abilities, he now craved even greater strength.
"I'm not that insignificant Peter Parker anymore. I'm Spider-Man! A beloved superhero, soone people worship!" The black-suited hero dangled his legs over the edge of the building, muttering to himself.
Lately, he had finally gotten together with Mary Jane, but reality had been far from the dream he imagined. Financial struggles had dulled the sweetness of love. Juggling cri-fighting, his girlfriend's emotions, and making ends et had left the once-idealistic hero feeling lost.
Life had punched him hard. Thanks to his old classmate Sean's tip, Peter had landed a job as a photographer at the Daily Bugle, only for a young rival nad Eddie Brock to appear out of nowhere, intensifying his anxiety.
Problems piled up relentlessly. As Peter Parker, he was exhausted. Recent fights with Mary Jane over work and rent had left him drained. Only as Spider-Man did he feel free.
~...Pathetic Peter. Wake up. Spider-Man is the star, no one cares about the face behind the mask. 'With great power cos great responsibility'? What a joke!..~
A voice in his head sneered, as if his mind had split into two arguing personas: Peter Parker, the ordinary boy, and Spider-Man, the superhero.
"Whatever. Who cares?" Peter scoffed under the black mask, grinning wildly.
Firing a web-line, he swung back into the city's skyline, scanning for cri in the shadows untouched by neon lights. New York needed Spider-Man.
The black figure soared recklessly through the air, weaving past billboards and obstacles as if the entire city lay beneath him, every corner exposed to his sharp gaze.
"Ooh, sothing fun!" Spider-Man whooped, spotting a burly man in a blue-striped shirt sneaking toward an apartnt, "Burglars are the worst. Ti for a lesson from Spider-Man!"
He fired rapid web-shots and lunged at his target like an excited child toward a new toy, eager to leave a lasting impression...
...
The muscular man hesitated outside an apartnt building...
Flint Marko, recently released from prison, had a daughter battling illness and a wife struggling to survive, both suffering because of his past mistakes.
"I need money. A lot of it." His body had undergone strange changes, filling him with newfound confidence. Desperate, Flint had resolved to rob a bank.
But before he could reunite with his family, an intruder slamd into him with devastating force, only for his chest to burst apart in a shower of sand, instantly reforming.
"Whoa! Christmas ca early? A real supervillain! Tell , are you planning to blow up the block or attack the Empire State Building? I'm getting serious Darth Vader vibes!"
Spider-Man cackled, thrilled by the sand-man's resilience. He lunged again, his fists striking like hamrs against shifting grains, but Flint remained unhard.
"I an no harm," Flint growled, his body swelling like a living dune before a crushing punch sent Spider-Man flying.
"Stay out of my way. My daughter needs dicine." Flint turned to leave, unwilling to let his family see him like this.
"Not so fast, Sandy!"
Spider-Man sprang up, firing rapid web-blasts that punched holes through Flint's sandy form. With a yank, he catapulted himself like a cannonball, slamming into the Sandman with enough force to scatter his body into a raining cloud of grit.
Laughing maniacally, the black-suited hero reveled in the victory... until a massive fist of compacted sand smashed him into a lamppost.
"I rember you now, you bastard! You shot an old man a cold-blooded killer!" Spider-Man's suit darkened further as rage consud him, "You murdered him! Destroyed a family!"
Blinded by fury, he attacked with brutal precision, his next punch exploding Flint's head into a burst of sand.
But even as the grains scattered, the hatred in Spider-Man's heart refused to fade...
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