The atmosphere in the safehouse shifted instantly. Under the command of the surprisingly radical Peter Porker, the pre-battle jitters evaporated, replaced by cold resolve.
Gwen Stacy's gaze swept across the assembled Spider-Team. Everyone was suited up, masks on, shooters checked. Well, almost everyone. Her eyes snagged on one conspicuous absence. She circled Jordan Evans with nimble, accusatory steps.
"Hey. Where's your battle suit?" She gestured incredulously at his dark trench coat. "You're not seriously planning to fight an interdimensional collapse in that, are you?"
The room went quiet. All eyes turned to him.
Jordan Evans smirked, hooking a thumb toward the corner of the room. "I'm not the only one rocking the coat look."
Spider-Man Noir adjusted his fedora, the brim casting a sharp shadow over his mask. "My world isn't as colorful as this one, missy. Black and grey is the main palette. A trench coat is the easiest way to blend into the shadows." He spread his hands theatrically. "This is my suit."
Peter from the MCU stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. "Fair point. But now that you mention it... I've never actually seen your gear, Jordan."
"No way," Peter Porker gasped, pressing his trotters to his cheeks in mock horror. "You don't have one, do you? You're going commando!"
Jordan Evans squinted at the ham. He took a half-step back and snapped his fingers. The sound echoed like a gunshot.
"Who said I didn't?"
Absolute Territory: Deploy.
Force Field King: Activate.
VWOOM.
Light didn't just shine; it erupted. A cascade of gold and red nanomaterial surged from his feet, liquid metal flowing upward with the fluidity of mercury to encase him completely. It spiraled up his legs, enveloped his torso, and sealed over his face.
Within seconds, a sleek, high-tech carapace stood where the man in the trench coat had been.
Iron Spider Armor: Active.
Repulsors whined to life on his palms and boots, lifting him inches off the floor. A wave of heat from the arc reactor washed over the stunned Spider-People.
Peter from the MCU took a sharp breath. His eyes widened behind his mask. Recognition hit him like a physical blow to the gut. The colors. The nanotech. The hum of the repulsors. Mr. Stark? His face twisted in hidden pain. It hurts. God, it hurts so much.
The others didn't share his traumatic history with Stark technology, but they were equally stunned. While everyone else wore hand-sewn spandex or salvaged tactical gear, Jordan had just manifested cutting-edge aerospace armor from thin air.
"Show off," Peni Parker muttered from inside her SP//dr mech, popping a bubble of gum. She was the only one not completely outclassed in the tech department. The rest expressed their feelings through a synchronized chorus of disbelief.
"Alright," Jordan's voice came through a synthesizer, deep and metallic. "Let's go."
Despite the theatrics, the gravity of the mission settled back in. Night had fallen over New York. Jordan Evans shot into the sky like a flare, seven agile figures swinging after him across the glittering cityscape toward Brooklyn.
Fisk Tower. Underground Facility.
Kingpin stood before the control room's reinforced glass wall, staring down at the massive particle collider. A cold unease crawled up his spine, unrelated to the temperature. His eyes flicked to the ceiling of the underground chamber.
Something felt wrong. The air was too still.
The Kingpin of Crime's expression remained carved from stone. He spoke without turning his head.
"Start the machine. Now. Immediately."
The researchers looked up from their stations, confused.
"But sir, Dr. Octavius isn't here yet. The protocols require—"
"I won't say it again."
The words were ice. Beside him, Tombstone's silent, menacing stare reinforced the threat. The researcher who'd dared to speak buried his face in his console like a frightened animal.
"Yes, boss!"
A deep rumble shook the chamber. The Super-Collider roared to life like a waking behemoth. The massive cannon array began accumulating energy, humming with a terrifying power. Streams of colorful, glitching particles painted Kingpin's expressionless face with an urgency he refused to show.
"Sorry, am I late?"
Dr. Octavius's voice echoed across the chamber. She grabbed a white lab coat from the entrance wardrobe, shrugging it on as she strode purposefully toward the controls.
"Increase alpha particle energy parameters! Boost rotation speed to maximum!" She waved off a hesitant technician. "Never mind. Step aside. I'm taking over."
Kingpin watched Doctor Octopus slip into her professional focus, then returned his gaze to the collider.
Waiting.
Above the City
"I have good news and bad news."
Jordan Evans descended smoothly, hovering alongside the swinging Spider-Team. His thrusters hummed, a stark contrast to the physical exertion of the others. Gwen shot a web line to maintain momentum, glancing at him with irritation.
"Really? Now? Just spit it out!"
The other Spider-People nodded in agreement, their arms aching from the constant shoot-swing-shoot rhythm.
"You get to fly without a care while we're stuck doing upper body workouts," Peter B. Parker complained, panting slightly.
Jordan flipped up his faceplate and shrugged. "Fine. Bad news first: Kingpin started the collider early. The experiment's already underway."
Peni Parker blew another bubble. It popped loudly. "So what's the good news?"
"Good news is... I fly faster than you swing. I can grab someone and boost ahead. We should make it before the experiment reaches critical mass."
"Take me!" Seven voices shouted simultaneously.
Peter from the MCU frowned. "Wait, why only one? Your suit looks like it has enough thrust to handle multiple passengers easily."
"New York regulations prohibit unlicensed passenger transport via private aircraft," Jordan deadpanned. He grabbed Gwen, who was closest, by the waist. "Ladies first. We're going ahead."
BOOM.
A sonic cone formed around Jordan. The shockwave scattered the Spider-People like leaves in a gale. They tumbled through the air, cursing and spitting, struggling to fire new webs to reorient themselves.
By the time they recovered, Jordan and Gwen were nothing but a distant speck of gold fire.
Peter from the MCU blinked, hanging upside down from a gargoyle. "Hold on. Is that... actually a real regulation?"
In Flight
Gwen had braced for the sudden acceleration, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping Jordan's armored shoulders tight. She expected the wind to tear at her, to crush her lungs.
But the airflow felt surprisingly stable. Like walking down a calm street.
She opened her eyes. A shimmering, polygonal force field surrounded them in a protective bubble, deflecting the supersonic wind completely. They flew in perfect, impossible comfort.
"Peter's right, you know." Gwen pulled off her hood, letting her blonde hair whip gently in the contained breeze. "Why not bring more? Kingpin has the Sinister Six waiting. We need numbers."
"The two of us are enough."
Jordan Evans kept his eyes on Fisk Tower, now looming large ahead. "We're going straight into the basement. Once we're inside, we can cause all the chaos we need."
He grinned behind his faceplate. "You handle the 'quacking'—keep them busy. I'll handle the indiscriminate violence."
Gwen stared at him. "What did you just say? How are we getting in? Aren't we supposed to infiltrate?"
"Infiltrate?" Jordan glanced down, his HUD calculating the trajectory. "Sure. Hold tight. This flight is about to land."
Gwen watched the ground rush up at terrifying speed. Her mouth fell open.
Fisk Tower Exterior
The Kingpin gang member moonlighting as building security stared up at the falling object. It looked like a shooting star, but it was moving wrong. Confusion crossed his face. He removed his helmet for a better look.
"What is that—RUN!"
CRASH.
The corner of the building didn't just break; it exploded.
Concrete, glass, and steel alloys erupted skyward. Debris rained down like artillery shells. Screams were swallowed by the deafening blast. Starting from the third-floor glass curtain wall, the explosion carved a path downward through five floors, straight to ground level.
The building above was mostly empty, evacuated for the experiment. Only Kingpin's security forces remained, now buried under tons of falling construction material.
The AT Field acted as a drill bit of infinite hardness. Combined with supersonic velocity, it carried devastating kinetic energy.
Jordan Evans was a high-density, carbon-core armor-piercing round. Every obstacle in his path was tissue paper.
One impact. Instant penetration.