[Third Person’s PoV]
As Yinsen followed Tony outside, tears welled up in his eyes, overwheld by the simple beauty of sunlight that wasn’t born from artificial light or flickering flas. For the first ti in what felt like forever, he basked in the warm embrace of the natural world.
However, Peter acted before either of them could react. In a sudden blur of motion, he zood past them with incredible speed and precision, a streak of black and blue slicing through the air. He rushed towards Tony and leapt, using the tal suit as a springboard. With a smooth sorsault, he launched himself high into the air.
Hidden among the jagged high rocks and outer ledges of the cavern were dozens of ard terrorists. They had been drawn to the entrance by the sound of explosions echoing within the cave—each blast sending tremors rippling through the ground. Now, they had their rifles raised, all aid squarely at Tony, who stood defensively in his crude tal suit.
Peter’s eyes, once a warm hazel-brown, shifted into a brilliant, electric blue as the world seed to slow around him. Ti dilated, giving him just enough room to move in that razor-thin margin between monts. Then, he erupted into a whirlwind of motion.
Webs burst from his wrists in every direction, arcing outward like tendrils of silver lightning. He twisted and spun midair, his body leaving afterimages as he danced through the chaos. Each flick of his wrist sent another terrorist flying, the force of his webs striking with such intensity that it launched n off their feet, slamming them into rock walls with bone-crushing impact. The sound of bodies hitting stone echoed like distant thunder.
Several tried to take cover behind rocks, but Peter’s webs found them regardless—yanking them forward, their heads colliding with the stone they hid behind. Webs clung to their faces and slamd them into the walls, painting the rocks with streaks of blood. The force was brutal, enough to cause concussions and traumatic brain injuries. Not fatal, but enough to permanently alter who they once were.
Others weren’t as lucky. So found the muzzles of their weapons webbed over just as they fired, causing catastrophic backfires. The resulting explosions mangled their hands and arms, leaving them crippled. None of them died—but all would live to regret surviving. The pain, the humiliation, and the lingering injuries would haunt them forever.
And all of it happened in less than ten seconds.
Peter landed smoothly in the sand, crouched in his iconic pose. As the last echo of the chaos faded, he stood up and began casually dusting off his hands.
"Well, at least that’s taken care of. All in a day’s work, I suppose," he said nonchalantly.
Yinsen stood motionless, staring at Peter with wide, unblinking eyes. It was one thing to see Peter build machines with super-speed—but it was sothing else entirely to witness him dismantle a small army without breaking a sweat. In that mont, Yinsen ca to understand sothing most people never did: Spider-Man wasn’t just a hero. He was a force of nature. Terrifying in his efficiency. He was abnormal.
"Uh, can soone get out of this thing now?" Tony called out, his voice slightly muffled through the iron helt. "I think I’ll suffocate if I try to walk through the desert in it."
"Yeah, alright. We’ve got you," Peter replied, exhaling with a bit of dramatic weariness as he walked over. With Yinsen’s help, he began prying the suit open.
As the heavy panels ca off and the rays of the sun touched his skin, Tony couldn’t help but laugh—deep, honest laughter, filled with emotion. Yinsen smiled warmly and joined in, before embracing each other in a heartfelt hug. It was a mont only the two of them could truly understand—two n bound by trauma, survival, and hope.
From a short distance away, Peter stood watching with a faint smile. Then, he turned slightly to the side and pressed a finger to his earpiece, listening silently for several seconds.
When Tony and Yinsen finished their brief celebration, they turned to see Spider-Man waiting nearby, one hand on his hip, the other to his ear.
"Alright," Peter said, "we’ve got two options moving forward."
Tony raised a brow. "Was that your boss you were reporting to?" he asked, then added with rapid-fire curiosity, "Actually, now that I think about it, I’ve got a few questions. Who hired you to find ? Do you work for the governnt? Are you a freelancer? How much are you being paid? Because whatever it is—I’ll double it if you co and work for ."
Peter blinked, clearly amused. "First of all," he began, lifting a finger with every answer, "I don’t have a boss. I don’t work for anyone. I’m here doing a favor and because you were soone in need. Second, the guy who’s favor I’m doing likes to be secretive—you’ll et him eventually. Third, I’d rather eat my own shoe than work for the governnt. Everyone knows nothing good ever cos from mixing heroes with bureaucracy. Lastly, this job doesn’t pay. Like at all. It only takes. And if you’re offering to double what I’m getting... you might as well start beating up."
"Seriously?" Tony asked, his eyes widening as he turned toward Peter. He wasn’t even sure what part shocked him the most—just that he was surprised, and that surprise was rapidly spiraling into awe.
Peter nodded, his expression unreadable behind his mask, but his body language casual.
Tony exhaled heavily and rolled his shoulders. "Alright then... What are the options?"
Peter raised a hand and counted with his fingers. "Option one—we stay put. The military will arrive soon enough. They’ve already been notified of your location, and they’ll be sending a team to extract you. When that happens, you’ll get to reunite with your old friend, Lieutenant Colonel Jas Rhodes. Plus, they’ll take you back to the States in first-class comfort, where you can rest, recover, which would give ti for your love ones to co and get you"
Tony glanced at Yinsen, who gave him a tired smile, then looked back at Peter. "Sounds reasonable... and option two?"
"Option two," Peter said with a sigh, "I take you both back personally. The whole trip would take a couple of minutes, tops. But..." He let the word stretch out, clearly burdened.
Tony raised an eyebrow. "But what?"
Peter crossed his arms. "But it would get in way more trouble with the governnt than I already am, which by the way couldn’t care less. If you’re seen arriving with , an unregistered third-party vigilante, they’ll lose their chance to spin this politically. See, if the military brings you in, they get to claim credit for rescuing Tony Stark. It’s all about optics. They’ll plaster it across every news outlet, saying they’ve recovered their golden goose—the genius weapon manufacturer—under their jurisdiction. Instant morale boost. Power statent. Politics."
Tony’s lips tightened. "Ah... so it’s all politics then."
"Yup," Peter said simply, popping the ’p.’
Yinsen, who had been silently listening, took a hesitant step forward. "I’m not connected to any governnt... I don’t care for politics. But if it’s not too much, could I perhaps... ask you to take ho? I want to see my family. It’s been so long."
Peter placed a reassuring hand on Yinsen’s shoulder and gave him a warm, silent nod. His mask hid the smile, but the expressive lenses softened. "Don’t worry. I’ll get you there safely."
Tony’s expression grew hard and resolute. "Right now, I could care less about governnts or optics. I just want to go ho, take the longest bath known to mankind, and eat a cheeseburger. In that order. So yeah... I’m in. Option two."
Peter clapped his hands. "Alrighty then, gentlen... follow ."
He gestured dramatically behind them. As they turned, the air shimred and cracked like a mirage. From thin air, the Weaver decloaked and hovered down in a silent, majestic descent. Its sleek black design glead under the sunlight, casting a sharp shadow on the sand as it touched down softly.
Yinsen’s jaw dropped. "What... what is that?"
Tony narrowed his eyes, lips twitching into a smirk. "So this is what you ant when you said you’ve made sothing better than my armor. Show-off."
The Weaver turned mid-air, its engines adjusting seamlessly before its rear hatch lowered like the mouth of a beast inviting its passengers in.
Peter stepped forward, casually lifting the entire Mark I armor with one hand, gripping it by the foot and balancing the heavy tal with ease. He paused at the threshold of the ship, turning back to see Tony and Yinsen still frozen in awe.
"Well?" he said with a snort, "You two gonna stand there gawking like tourists or actually get on board?"
Tony and Yinsen exchanged a quick glance—then hurried after him like excited kids.
Inside, the Weaver’s interior was no less impressive. Over the past month, Peter and Harry had been upgrading their tools and gadget with vibranium, put in countless hours reinforcing everything. Which included their hovercraft, it was laced with vibranium plating, streamlining its systems, and expanding its compartnts to include a d bay, storage units, and even creature comforts.
As they stepped inside, Tony glanced around and imdiately asked, "Please tell this thing has a bathroom. If you hand a bucket, I swear to God we’re gonna have a problem."
Peter laughed. "Relax. You’ve got both a toilet and a shower. They’re opposite each other in the back compartnt. Though... no fresh clothes."
Tony practically sprinted over and opened the door, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas. "I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see a porcelain seat."
He slamd the door behind him, and monts later, the unmistakable sound of loud urination echoed through the chamber.
Peter and Yinsen stood in awkward silence. Peter groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He really had to make it a whole mont..."
Yinsen chuckled sheepishly.
Peter shook his head, then turned to him. "Alright, before we get moving, just give your address. I’ll drop you off first."
Yinsen’s eyes glead with gratitude as he nodded and began reciting the details of his ho.
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5 advance Chapters on: patreon/Shadow_D_Monarch3
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