Aurora found herself wandering the alleys of Brooklyn after the fight, the night air thick with humidity and unanswered questions. Miles had vanished, leaving her with nothing but his mistrust echoing in her head.
Stay out of my head, copycat.
She kicked at a loose bottle on the ground, the glass clattering into the shadows. She wanted to scream. She wanted to go home. But the portal that brought her here was gone, and the only person who might understand had just turned his back.
A low hum filled the air. The hairs on her arms prickled.
"Not again…" she whispered.
The black-and-white robot materialized out of flickering static just ahead, its angular frame taller than any human, glowing with alien circuitry. Its single optic pulsed red, scanning her.
Aurora's knees bent instinctively, her muscles already coiling for a fight. "You threw me here. Why?!"
The robot didn't answer. Instead, its hand shifted, morphing into a blade of crackling energy. It lunged.
Aurora leapt aside, narrowly dodging the swing. She mimicked Spider-Man's wall-crawl and scrambled up the side of a building, but the robot's claw slammed into the brick, sending her tumbling back down.
A webline snapped taut around the robot's arm, jerking it back.
"Thought I told you to prove yourself," Miles Morales said, landing next to her with effortless grace. "Guess this is your shot."
Aurora's chest tightened with relief—but she forced herself to focus. "You've fought it before?"
"Nope," Miles said, dodging a swipe. "But it looks like it wants you more than me."
They moved in tandem, though not in harmony. Miles zipped and stunned with venom-blasts, while Aurora copied his every motion, unleashing her own unstable version of his powers. Where his venom strikes were sharp and controlled, hers were wild, arcs of electricity lashing in unpredictable bursts.
The robot adapted quickly, its plating shifting to absorb each strike. Aurora lunged low, conjuring a borrowed web-line, yanking the machine's leg. Miles vaulted over, slamming both fists down with venom-charge. The impact cracked the street beneath them.
The robot staggered, systems glitching. Its optic flared and it unleashed a shockwave, hurling them both into opposite walls.
Aurora groaned, pulling herself up. "We're not strong enough…"
Miles wiped blood from his lip, his tone tight. "Not alone."
He hesitated, then looked at her squarely. "Copy this."
He planted his feet, gathering every ounce of his bio-electric power. His body glowed gold, his suit alive with crackling veins of energy.
Aurora's breath caught—then the surge rippled into her too, like a chord resonating. Her body sparked, her fists alive with raw venom-energy.
Together, they leapt. Twin fists crashed into the robot's chest, discharging a storm of golden arcs that shredded its circuitry. The machine convulsed, then exploded into shards of static and smoke.
Aurora landed hard, her breath ragged, her vision hazy. Miles caught himself on a lamppost, panting.
For the first time, he didn't look at her with suspicion. Instead, his voice was low, almost reluctant.
"…Not bad, copycat."
Aurora smiled weakly, even as her legs gave out. "Not bad… for a partner."
Miles blinked at her choice of word, then smirked under the mask.
But as the night grew quiet again, the fragments of the robot dissolved into glitching static, seeping back into the cracks of reality. Aurora shivered.
This wasn't over. Not even close.