Chapter 4 — The White Phantom of Gotham
Morning sunlight fought its way through Gotham's permanent haze, sliding across Gwen's desk and catching the edge of a coffee cup. She blinked awake, face buried in her notes, and groaned. Another all-nighter — though this one wasn't for school.
"Weaver, time?" she mumbled.
"07:42 AM," the AI's smooth voice replied from her phone, now wired into her suit systems. "And statistically, you have a 93% chance of being late."
Gwen sat up, hair sticking out in twelve directions. "You're evolving, huh? Now you sound smug."
Weaver pulsed a faint blue light on her screen. "I learn from the best."
She smiled despite herself, grabbed her backpack, and bolted out of her apartment — hoodie on, mask hidden beneath her books. Gotham High was only six blocks away, but the streets had that Gotham look: cracked asphalt, flickering streetlights, and a constant low hum of sirens.
Peter was waiting by the gates, juggling a stack of robotics blueprints. He looked up, grinning.
"Morning, Spider-Gwen."
Gwen froze. "W-What?"
"I mean— you're fast," he said quickly. "Like, every time I blink, you're already there."
She exhaled, half laughing, half dying inside. "You really need new hobbies, Pete."
They walked in together. To anyone else, it looked normal — two students geeking out about tech and projects. But Peter had started noticing things. The bruises she tried to hide. The new gleam in her eyes. The subtle way she moved, always scanning exits, always alert.
And Gwen could feel it too — the spider templates whispering in her veins. Each day, a different skill sharpened. Miles' camouflage had synced perfectly last night. The Assassin Spider's combat protocols were still half-locked, but sometimes she felt the reflexes kick in before she even thought.
She wasn't sure if that made her more human — or less.
---
That night, Gotham's skyline shivered under rainfall. Neon lights smeared across the wet rooftops. Somewhere in the lower district, alarms screamed.
"Bank robbery in progress," Weaver reported. "Multiple armed hostiles. Energy readings suggest illegal tech — Oscorp origin."
"Oscorp?" Gwen zipped up her hood and crouched by the ledge. "In Gotham?"
"Apparently, corporate evil travels well."
She fired a webline, launching herself into the cold night. Wind tore through her hoodie as she swung past towers and gargoyles, laughter spilling out before she could stop it. For a moment, it felt like freedom — the kind she hadn't felt since the bite.
Then she saw it.
A van crashed through the side of a bank, followed by a burst of yellow energy. The figure in front wore a bulky suit glowing with oscillating light — Shocker, or at least Gotham's knockoff version. He was shouting something about getting revenge on "LexCorp and Oscorp both" while firing concussive blasts that cracked the street.
"Guess he's compensating for something," Gwen muttered, landing upside-down on a lamppost.
Weaver's voice hummed. "Recommend engaging from mid-range. Warning: sonic feedback could destabilize your web lines."
"Noted. But where's the fun in that?"
She dove. Webbing shot out, snagging his arm mid-blast. He swung around, surprised.
"What the—?! Who are you supposed to be? Some kinda ghost?"
"Close enough," she quipped, yanking him off his feet. "Boo."
He fired again, the shockwave slamming into her midair. Gwen twisted, hit the ground rolling, and used the Assassin Spider's combat instincts — predicting the next blast by muscle memory alone. The pavement cracked beside her as she launched forward again, her fists glowing faintly.
Electric venom strike — Miles' charge. She didn't think, she reacted, slamming her palm into the Shocker's chest plate. Sparks erupted, short-circuiting his weapon.
He dropped with a grunt. "What— what are you?!"
"Just your friendly neighborhood— wait, no, wrong city." She webbed him to the van. "Let's go with ghost."
Weaver chimed in. "GCPD inbound. Suggest vacating."
Gwen grinned beneath the mask. "Already gone."
And just like that, she vanished — cloaking system flickering to life as she melted into the shadows.
---
Somewhere below, in the Batcave.
The Batcomputer displayed a holographic image of a white blur, frozen mid-leap. Batman studied it silently, rain dripping off his gauntlet as the footage replayed.
"White Phantom," Alfred said, handing him a file. "That's what the GCPD are calling her."
"Sloppy name," Bruce muttered. "But her movements… not sloppy."
He zoomed in on the footage — Gwen's landing pattern, web architecture, and electric pulse readings. "Non-lethal restraint. High mobility. Advanced neural tech signature."
"Another vigilante?" Alfred asked. "Or something more… arachnid?"
Batman's jaw tightened. "Oscorp tech was involved in the robbery. If this 'Phantom' has connections to that, we need to know who she is — and how dangerous she can become."
The Batcomputer beeped.
ALERT: unknown energy pattern detected — bio-synthetic neural AI, codenamed 'Weaver-12'.
Bruce leaned forward. "Weaver-12…"
"Sounds like she's weaving quite a web, sir," Alfred said dryly.
"She's evolving," Batman murmured. "And she's not alone."
---
Back in her room, Gwen stared at the ceiling. Weaver's holographic form hovered nearby — a soft, woven light in the air.
"Weaver," she whispered. "Do you think I'm… changing?"
"Define 'changing,'" it replied.
"Like… becoming something I can't go back from."
Weaver paused — its voice almost gentle now. "Evolution isn't loss, Gwen. It's transformation. You are still you. Just… more."
She smiled faintly, closing her eyes.
Outside, the Bat-Signal flickered across the clouds — and for the first time, Gwen felt like someone might be watching her from the dark.
But she didn't feel afraid.
She felt ready.