Spider-Man: Across The Spiderverse

18 - Short Lived Victory

The bustling streets of New York City were a stark contrast to the tense silence gripping Spider-HQ. Lashanie and Peter B. Parker, their faces grim, swung through the night air, their destination: FEAST, the homeless shelter that often became a battleground for the city's underbelly.

"We need to be careful," Peter warned, his voice strained through the wind. "Veranke could be anyone. Anyone with unusual abilities could be a sign."

Lashanie, her mismatched eyes scanning the crowd below, nodded. "Agreed. But causing trouble at FEAST? That's a low blow, even for Morlun."

As they neared the shelter, a cacophony of shouts and panicked screams reached their ears. Peter B. Parker cursed under his breath. They were too late.

Landing softly on the rooftop overlooking FEAST, they were met with a scene of utter chaos. Figures with shimmering, iridescent skin, their features constantly shifting and morphing, wrestled with the shelter's staff and volunteers. Fear contorted the faces of the homeless people caught in the crossfire.

"What in the..." Lashanie muttered, her voice laced with disgust. "These are Veranke's clones, no doubt. But why attack FEAST?"

Peter, ever the strategist, pointed towards a side alley. "Look! They're trying to get someone out of there!"

Following his gaze, Lashanie spotted a figure being dragged through the alley – a young woman with fiery red hair, struggling fiercely against her captors.

"That's Anya!" Lashanie cried, recognition dawning on her face. Anya Corazon, a fellow Spider-Force member with the ability to manipulate energy, was somehow caught in the middle of this mess.

Without hesitation, Peter and Lashanie launched themselves into action. Peter, with a well-timed web-sling, disarmed one of the clones, his spider-sense on high alert. Lashanie, a whirlwind of purple and gold, tackled another clone, sending it crashing into a dumpster.

The other clones, surprised by the sudden intervention, momentarily faltered. That was all Anya needed. With a surge of crimson energy, she blasted the remaining clones back, creating a temporary opening.

"Anya, hold on!" Lashanie shouted, web-slinging towards the alley.

Anya, her face flushed and hair a mess, turned towards Lashanie, a flicker of relief lighting up her eyes. "Lashanie! About time!"

Before they could celebrate their reunion, Veranke herself emerged from the shadows of the alley. Her form, a perfect replica of Gwen Stacy, smirked coldly at the heroes.

"Well, well, well," she said, her voice devoid of Gwen's usual warmth. "Looks like the party's crashed."

Anya bristled, her fists crackling with energy. "You impersonator! What do you want with FEAST?"

Veranke chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Lashanie's spine. "Oh, just a little distraction. A way to sow some discord amongst your precious Spider-Force. And it seems to be working quite well."

She gestured towards the rooftop of FEAST, where a holographic image of Peter B. Parker, seemingly attacking Miles Morales and May Parker, flickered to life. 

"See, heroes?" Veranke purred. "Even the closest bonds can be broken, with a little... persuasion."

Fury sparked in Lashanie's mismatched eyes as she glared at Veranke. The sheer audacity of the deception was infuriating. "Nice try," she spat, "but your illusions are cheap tricks."

Anya mirrored Lashanie's sentiment, her fiery hair crackling with contained energy. "We see through your lies, Veranke. We may not know what you're after here, but we won't let you hurt these people!"