He barely flinched.
Spider-Man stared at Silvermane, his fist throbbing, a strange mix of disbelief and cold anger settling over him. He had hit with everything he had, and it was like punching a mountain. The metallic behemoth simply stood there, unmoving, unaffected.
This wasn't just tough armor. This was something else entirely.
Silvermane's red visor glowed, a low, metallic rumble escaping his throat. It wasn't quite laughter, more like the grinding of heavy machinery.
"Is that all, little spider?"
His voice was deep, devoid of pain or surprise, only contempt.
"A pathetic display from a pathetic creature."
Spider-Man felt a fresh wave of rage, mixed with a chill that had nothing to do with the cool train air. Silvermane's words cut through him, not just because they were an insult, but because they felt true in that moment. His strongest punch had done nothing.
I have to rethink. Fast.
He glanced back at Nijika and Ryo, still huddled with the other passengers. They were watching him, fear in their eyes. He couldn't afford to get caught in a slugfest he couldn't win. His objective was clear: protect them, then deal with Silvermane.
He needed to create an opening, to buy time.
Spider-Man dropped into a low crouch, his spider-sense screaming a warning even as he moved. He focused, channeling his Aether. Blue-silver energy crackled around his fists, a faint glow against the dark suit.
He launched himself forward again, not aiming for a punch, but a diversion. He aimed for Silvermane's leg, a swift, low kick, trying to trip the massive machine.
His leg didn't budge.
The impact sent a jarring shockwave up his leg, the metal unyielding. It was like kicking solid bedrock.
Silvermane didn't even look down. His right arm moved, a blur of silver, the forearm-mounted plasma cannon glowing red.
Plasma blast?!
Spider-Man twisted, throwing himself sideways, the concussive force of the blast washing over him as it slammed into the wall where he had been standing. The train car shuddered, smoke and debris erupting from the scorched metal.
He landed hard, rolling, his suit scraping against the floor. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and burning plastic.
Too close.
He pushed himself up, his eyes darting to the remaining Ninders. They were still herding the passengers, pushing them closer to the shattered exit of the train car. Nijika and Ryo were almost there.
He had to break through.
He spun, a desperate blur of red and black, trying to get around Silvermane.
This guy's too big for a head-on fight.
His Spider-Sense was a constant buzz, not for danger from Silvermane's attacks, but for the passengers. He needed to clear them out, get them to safety.
Silvermane pivoted, a grinding sound echoing in the damaged train car. The giant cyborg was faster than he looked, a heavy shadow always in Spider-Man's peripheral vision. He tried to duck under a massive arm, aiming for the machine's back.
Too slow.
A wall of polished silver blocked his path. Silvermane's arm extended, a chrome fist the size of Spider-Man's head, moving with deceptive speed.
WHOOSH
The air displaced by the punch whipped past his mask, forcing a gasp. He felt the sheer power of it, a physical pressure that vibrated through his bones even without direct contact.
"You squirm, little spider."
Silvermane's voice was a low growl, laced with mocking amusement.
"A futile dance."
He tried another angle, a wall-run up the shattered side of the train car, hoping to gain some height. Silvermane merely tilted his head, his red visor tracking Spider-Man's every move. The cyborg's energy mane flared, tendrils whipping out like silver ropes, forcing Spider-Man to drop back down before he could reach the ceiling.
This is bad. Really bad.
Spider-Man landed lightly, rolling to avoid another sweeping strike. He scrambled backward, trying to put distance between them, but Silvermane was relentless, stepping forward with each of his evasive maneuvers. The ground shook with each heavy stride.
He fired a web, aiming for Silvermane's chest, hoping to slow him down, maybe even pull him off balance. The web-fluid splattered against the black Iron Cross emblem, sticking for a second before the metallic plating glowed red.
HISS
The web disintegrated into smoke, a puff of vapor.
"Your childish tricks mean nothing to Silvermane."
The constant movement, the dodging, the failed attacks—it was draining him. He could feel the energy starting to seep from his muscles, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He hadn't landed a single hit that mattered. Silvermane, on the other hand, looked completely unaffected.
He needed to find a weakness, a blind spot, something beyond pure strength. But Silvermane was like a walking tank, a mountain that moved like a ghost. And with Nijika and Ryo still trapped…
I can't let them get hurt.
Spider-Man heard the low hum, a sound he had only heard once before, from Garia's own body. His Spider-Sense flared, not a single point of impact, but a wide, spreading wave of pure danger.
He's not just strong. He's got more tricks.
Silvermane's metallic mane, previously flowing like a cape, began to extend. Tendrils of silver, crackling with blue-silver plasma, stretched outward, like a dozen razor-sharp whips.
CRACKLE
The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of ozone. Spider-Man saw the exact trajectory of each plasma tendril, his mind mapping out the paths of destruction.
Incoming! Left! No, right! Both!
His body tried to respond, tried to move with the speed his mind demanded, but he was already committed to dodging the last plasma blast. He ducked, twisting his torso, a desperate, last-second effort.
The searing heat grazed his mask.
SPLAT
A tendril slammed into the train wall where his head had been a heartbeat ago. The plasma left a smoking, glowing scorch mark, deep and black. He felt the residual warmth on his cheek, a stark reminder of how close he had come to being incinerated.
The tendrils weren't just for attacking. They were everywhere, crisscrossing the small space, cutting off his escape routes. He was trapped, forced to stay within Silvermane's crushing reach. The cybernetic monster had cornered him.
He's versatile. Garia never mentioned this thing had whips.
The constant crackle of the plasma, the radiating heat, kept him on edge. He needed to break free. He needed to create an opening, not just for himself, but for Nijika and Ryo. They were still moving, slowly, toward the exit.
He saw a gap, a momentary lull in the tendrils' dance. It was small, risky, but his Spider-Sense didn't scream no. He lunged, a desperate dash toward Silvermane's body, aiming for the core.
WEB SHOT!
He fired a volley of webs, a thick stream of fluid, hoping to tangle the tendrils. The webs struck the plasma mane, adhering with a THWIP sound.
GOTCHA!
Silvermane simply flexed. The tendrils crackled brighter, the blue-silver plasma intensifying.
HISS
The webbing dissolved instantly, incinerated into fine ash before it could even begin to hold.
"A foolish maneuver."
Silvermane's voice echoed, cold and hard.
Okay, new plan.
Spider-Man dropped low, sliding on the debris-strewn floor. He fired another web-shot, this time aiming for Silvermane's massive legs, trying to trip the giant cyborg. The webs wrapped around the metallic calves, pulling taut.
HOLD!
They stuck. For a split second, Silvermane's posture wavered. A low grunt escaped him, a sound of pure, unadulterated power. His muscles strained.
SNAP
The webs tore, ripping free from his chrome body as if they were made of tissue paper. Silvermane didn't even stumble. He just reached down, his massive hand closing around a mangled piece of the train seat. He ripped it from the floor with ease, metal screeching.
CRRR-CHUNK
He threw it.
Spider-Man's Spider-Sense shrieked, a useless blare of static, too late, too close. He was caught by surprise, his mind still reeling from the web's failure.
The seat slammed into him, a solid, unforgiving impact.
WHUMP
The air rushed out of his lungs, leaving him breathless, stunned. He hit the ground hard, a jolt of pain flaring in his ribs.
He pushed himself up, tasting blood and grit. His vision blurred for a second, the metallic tang in his mouth sharper than the pain in his ribs. It was a dull ache that grew with every breath.
This wasn't just a fight anymore.
His father's face flashed in his mind, then Nijika's wide, terrified eyes, and Ryo's pale, still expression. Rage, cold and hard, pushed through the pain.
He snarled, a guttural sound lost inside his mask.
"You are not getting away with this."
He charged again, a desperate, powerful leap, muscles burning. He aimed a kick for Silvermane's head, a wild, almost reckless strike, hoping to connect.
CLANK
Silvermane's massive hand shot out, catching his leg with a sound like grinding metal. The grip was immediate, immense. Pressure squeezed his calf, threatening to crush bone.
Spider-Man screamed, not from the pain in his leg, but from the anger that filled his chest. It was a defiance, a primal cry against the overwhelming force. He struggled, twisting, pulling, trying to break free.
He won't win.
Silvermane's red visor seemed to glow brighter, a cold, calculating light.
"Such a small spider, yet so much struggle."
Silvermane lifted him from the ground, effortlessly, still holding his leg in that crushing grip. Spider-Man dangled, a toy in the giant's hand. He began to spin, slowly at first, then faster, turning Spider-Man into a human projectile.
Spider-Man's spider-sense became a cacophony of overlapping warnings, a frantic, meaningless scream in his mind. He spun faster and faster, disoriented, helpless. The train car became a blur of metal and flickering emergency lights.
WHOOSH
Silvermane released him.
He flew through the air, a red and black projectile. The support beam of the train car raced toward him.
CRASH
He hit it with brutal force. The beam groaned, metal twisting and screeching under the impact. Pain exploded through him, a white-hot agony that consumed everything.
The roof above him buckled. Twisted metal, shattered glass, and torn seats cascaded down. He was buried under a pile of wreckage. A thick cloud of dust and smoke rose, obscuring the spot where he fell.
The hostages watched, Nijika and Ryo among them. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with disbelief. Hope had been a fragile thing, and now it shattered. They had seen Spider-Man, their hero, crushed beneath the weight of the train. He was gone, leaving them utterly vulnerable.
Silvermane scanned the smoking wreckage, a low, grinding sound escaping his metallic throat. It was his version of a chuckle, a sound of cold satisfaction.
"The pest is eliminated."
Amazoness walked toward the smoking debris, her crimson eyes scanning the rubble. A predatory smirk touched her lips.
"Indeed. A minor inconvenience, nothing more."
She turned to the Ninders, her voice sharp.
"Gather the remaining hostages. Move them to the back. The path to the base is clear."
The Ninders shuffled, their red visors fixed on the terrified passengers. Nijika and Ryo were pushed forward, their faces etched with a profound despair. Nijika felt a cold dread in her stomach. Her hope, all of it, had been on Spider-Man.
He was gone.
She glanced at Ryo. Her friend's yellow eyes, usually half-lidded, were wide and vacant, staring at the pile of shattered metal. The image of Spider-Man, crushed and silent, burned in their minds. It was a chilling testament to the Iron Cross Army's power.
Amazoness and Silvermane followed the Ninders, their imposing forms a final, cruel statement. The last thing Nijika saw before being forced through the gaping hole in the train car was the smoking mound of debris, the grave of their only hope.
A long moment passed. Silence settled over the ruined train car, broken only by the distant, fading hum of the Iron Cross Army's transport.
Then, a faint sound, ragged and raw.
Groan.
Spider-Man stirred beneath the rubble. Every muscle screamed, a chorus of pain. He pushed against the heavy debris, his hands finding purchase on shattered metal and twisted seats. With a grunt, he forced the wreckage aside.
He pulled himself free, his suit torn, his mask cracked down the left eye lens. Each movement was a struggle, a fresh wave of agony. He looked around the empty, ruined car. The silence was heavier now, a grim monument to his failure.
The hostages were gone. Nijika and Ryo were gone.
A cold dread settled in his gut, replacing the earlier rage. Was I… not strong enough?
He questioned everything. Could he really defeat Silvermane? Could he rescue his friends? Was he truly strong enough to protect anyone from this evil? The weight of his inadequacy crushed him. He felt utterly alone, defeated. The impossible task ahead stretched before him, vast and overwhelming.
***
Advance Chapters on patreon.com/Najicablitz.
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