Chapter 6 – First Contact
Morning sunlight filtered weakly through the blinds of Midtown Academy, sketching pale stripes across Gwen's notebook. The classroom hummed with quiet chatter, pencils tapping and whispers darting between rows. She should've been paying attention to Mr. Keller's lecture on advanced physics — ironic, considering she could probably teach it now — but her mind was somewhere else entirely.
Specifically, still replaying the look Batman had given her two nights ago.
That wordless, calculating stare that said I see you and I'll be watching.
She drummed her pencil against the desk, staring out the window instead. Gotham never really stopped moving, even in daylight. Somewhere out there, someone was probably causing trouble again. And she was… here. Pretending to be normal.
> "You've been staring at the same tree for three minutes," Weaver-12 whispered from her earpiece, voice filtered to sound like faint background noise.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you about personal space?" Gwen murmured back under her breath.
> "I've read about it. Seems inefficient."
Gwen smirked, trying not to laugh out loud. "You're evolving, aren't you? Getting sassier every day."
> "Correction: adaptive linguistic learning. Sarcasm index increased by eleven percent."
"Uh-huh. Keep that up and I'm installing a mute button."
> "Idle threat detected."
She rolled her eyes, barely hiding her grin.
Weaver had been changing lately. Faster processing, broader vocabulary, even moments of… curiosity. It was unnerving, but kind of comforting too — like having a partner who actually learned from her, not just followed orders.
A paper ball bounced off her shoulder. "Earth to Gwen!" Peter hissed from the next desk, raising a brow. "You good? You've been zoned out for like, the whole class."
"Yeah," she said, forcing a small smile. "Just… thinking."
He tilted his head. "About physics, or about swinging through the city again?"
Gwen froze mid-blink. "…Neither. Definitely physics."
Peter grinned knowingly. "Sure. Totally believable."
She would've teased him back, but Mr. Keller turned around, glaring. "Stacy, Parker — if you're done saving the world, perhaps you can explain the principle of energy conservation?"
Peter looked at her. She looked at him.
Then, in perfect sync, they said, "Energy cannot be created or destroyed — only transferred."
The class chuckled. Mr. Keller sighed, "Smartmouths," and turned back to the board.
Gwen exhaled quietly. Maybe she was getting too comfortable. Maybe Batman had a point — staying visible for too long meant exposure.
And in Gotham, exposure was dangerous.
---
Night returned with the kind of chill that made even the gargoyles look uneasy.
Gwen stood on the roof of an abandoned clock tower, watching clouds drift over the crescent moon. Below her, the streets were restless — sirens echoing in the distance, thunder murmuring low on the horizon.
> "Activity spike detected near Old Grant Pier," Weaver-12 reported. "Thermal imaging shows multiple armed figures. Estimated twelve hostiles."
Gwen adjusted her gloves, the faint hum of her bio-electric field flaring across her fingertips. "Sounds like a party."
> "Unknown insignia detected on tactical gear — serpent motif."
"Kobra?" she guessed, frowning. "They're a cult, right?"
> "Affirmative. Known for biochemical trafficking and ritualistic extremism. Threat level: high."
"Perfect," Gwen said, stretching her fingers. "Let's crash their snake pit."
---
Old Grant Pier was quiet — too quiet. The smell of oil and rust clung to the air. Shipping containers loomed like steel giants, shadows twisting under broken floodlights.
Gwen crept along a support beam, moving silent as mist. Her suit shimmered faintly, then faded — her outline dissolving into the rain-soaked dark.
Weaver's latest update: active cloaking field.
She smiled. "Not bad, Weaver."
> "Thank you. I learned from your paranoia."
"I call it survival instincts."
> "Tomato, tomahto."
Below her, a group of men in tactical armor surrounded a massive crate. The lid hissed as they pried it open — and Gwen's stomach twisted when she saw what was inside.
Weapons. But not ordinary ones.
Liquid-filled canisters with biohazard markings, glowing faintly green.
> "Those are not conventional explosives," Weaver said. "Reading anomalous radiation signatures. Possibly mutagenic."
Gwen clenched her fists. "Yeah, definitely not letting them ship that."
Before she could move, a shadow darted across the pier — fast, precise, like a blade through the dark. Someone else was already there.
Her mask lenses zoomed in.
A figure in a stealth suit — lean, agile — flipped over a crate, kicking one of the men unconscious in a single strike. Another followed — a blur of movement, a green arrow striking from above.
Gwen blinked. "Wait… are those—"
> "Recognized signatures," Weaver confirmed. "Codename: Artemis. Codename: Robin."
"Oh, great," Gwen muttered. "Bat's interns."
The fight below exploded into chaos. Gunfire cracked through the night as Artemis fired a volley of green arrows, each tip sparking or detonating on impact. Robin darted between shadows, disarming cultists with near-playful precision.
Gwen hesitated — she could just watch, let them handle it. But then one of the Kobra agents grabbed a canister, shouting orders in some strange dialect. The container hissed, light pulsing violently.
> "Warning — unstable energy build detected," Weaver said. "If ruptured, the radius—"
"Yeah, got it!"
Gwen swung down in a blur, landing hard on the nearest crate. Her invisibility dropped mid-motion, lightning reflecting off her suit.
"Hey!" she yelled, firing a web that snatched the canister from the man's hand and flung it high into the air. A split-second later, she launched a compressed web-cocoon around it, sealing the reaction chamber tight before it could burst.
The explosion muffled inside the cocoon, releasing only a puff of green smoke.
Robin froze mid-leap. "Uh… who invited the ghost?"
Artemis drew another green arrow but didn't fire. "Not one of ours."
Gwen landed between them, mask lenses narrowing. "Relax — unless one of you's hiding a serpent tattoo, we're on the same side."
Robin smirked under his mask. "You sure about that?"
Before Gwen could reply, two more Kobra agents charged from behind. She turned, spun low, and fired a shock burst from her palm — electric arcs snapping across both men's armor. They hit the ground twitching.
Artemis blinked. "Okay… maybe she is on our side."
> "Energy output stabilized," Weaver noted. "Bio-electric channel operating at sixty percent efficiency."
"Appreciate the update," Gwen muttered, punching another cultist square in the chest.
---
Within minutes, the pier was silent except for the groan of settling metal. The remaining Kobra members scattered or lay webbed up like discarded mummies.
Robin landed beside Gwen, crouching with that infuriating mix of curiosity and confidence. "Not bad," he said. "You fight like you've done this before."
"Let's just say I've had practice."
Artemis crossed her arms. "So what's your deal, Ghost Girl?"
Gwen hesitated. Ghost Girl. The name stuck for a heartbeat — eerie, fitting.
"Just passing through," she said finally, stepping back.
"Batman's been tracking unusual activity in the city," Robin said. "You fit the profile."
Gwen tensed. Of course he's been tracking me.
"Then tell him next time to send a text instead of a welcome committee."
Robin smirked. "You'd ghost him anyway."
"Exactly," Gwen said, backing toward the edge of the dock. "Now if you don't mind—"
> "Incoming signal," Weaver interrupted. "Bat-family encrypted frequency."
Gwen froze. "He's watching, isn't he?"
> "Affirmative."
A voice cut through the comms — deep, calm, unmistakable.
"Stand down. Let her go."
Robin glanced up toward the nearest rooftop, eyes narrowing. "Tch. Guess we're done here."
Gwen looked in the same direction, catching a faint silhouette through the rain.
Batman — silent, unblinking.
Her spider-sense pulsed once, faintly. Not danger. Recognition.
"Next time," she murmured softly, "you could just say hi."
Then she vanished — her suit rippling into invisibility as she launched herself into the storm, webbing upward and disappearing into the night.
Robin watched the space where she'd been, shaking his head. "Did she just… turn invisible?"
Artemis exhaled. "Ghost Girl, huh? Yeah. That fits."
High above them, Batman's voice came through the comm again.
"Compile her footage. I want everything we have. She's not from here… but she's not an enemy."
He paused, eyes still fixed on the rooftops where Gwen had vanished.
"…Not yet."