Shadow of the Bat

Chapter 2: Web of Tension

Spider-Man's Spider-Sense screamed in his skull, a blaring alarm that gave him barely a fraction of a second to react. He ducked, and Batman's fist whistled past his head, the air cracking from the force of the punch. Spider-Man flipped backward, landing on the side of a building with a fluid motion, clinging to the brick wall like a shadow.

"Whoa! Alright, hold up there, Bat-guy! Let's maybe talk this out before you start throwing haymakers like we're in some kinda UFC cage match!"

Batman's response was swift and brutal. A grapple line shot from his wrist, snagging Spider-Man's ankle. The line yanked hard, and the wall-crawler lost his grip, tumbling toward the pavement. But Spider-Man was fast—faster than most—and shot a webline at a nearby streetlamp, catching himself mid-fall and flipping up to perch atop the light pole.

He glanced at the cable still wrapped around his ankle and gave it a quick flick, snapping the line effortlessly. "Man, you really don't mess around, do you?"

Batman was already moving, a blur of black cape and armored fury. He hurled a batarang at the light post, aiming to cut Spider-Man's perch out from under him. But Spider-Man leaped into the air before the impact, twisting with inhuman agility as the pole exploded in a shower of sparks. He landed a few feet away, crouched and ready.

"Okay, seriously," Spider-Man said, his voice sharper now, "if you don't stop, I'm gonna have to hit back. And trust me, I've taken down guys bigger than you."

Batman didn't respond. He charged again, this time faster—an armored freight train bearing down with lethal precision. Spider-Man's reflexes kicked into overdrive. He jumped to the side, dodging a punch that could've crushed his ribs, and fired a web at Batman's face, hoping to at least slow him down.

But Batman was ready. He deflected the webbing with a sharp flick of his cape and countered with a roundhouse kick that Spider-Man barely managed to block. The impact sent him skidding back a few feet, his arms vibrating from the force. Whoever this guy was, he hit harder than anyone Spider-Man had faced in a long time.

"Alright, gloves off it is," Spider-Man muttered, shooting two webs at the sides of a building and slingshotting himself straight at Batman. His feet connected with the Dark Knight's chest, sending him stumbling backward.

Batman absorbed the hit, rolling with the momentum before springing back onto his feet like a cat. He was relentless. He wasn't fighting like some street thug. He was trained, methodical, and dangerous. The kind of opponent Spider-Man had to take seriously.

"You're fast," Batman growled, his voice low and measured. "But you're sloppy."

"Sloppy?" Spider-Man flipped over Batman, firing another web that missed by inches. "I'll have you know I'm the poster boy for agility!"

Batman's patience was wearing thin. He'd fought faster opponents, stronger ones too. But this kid was unpredictable. Agile, quick-witted. He couldn't afford to underestimate him—but Batman didn't do underestimations.

He deployed a smoke pellet, filling the street with thick, blinding vapor. Spider-Man's lenses adjusted, trying to penetrate the haze, but the smoke wasn't the only problem. Something else—something subtle—was already in play. The smoke had a metallic scent, and suddenly, Spider-Man felt his muscles tensing involuntarily.

"Great," Spider-Man muttered, his voice tight. "A gas attack? Really?"

Batman stepped from the shadows, his footsteps unnervingly silent despite his heavy armor. He circled Spider-Man, who struggled to keep his balance as the paralyzing agent in the smoke slowly took effect.

"I don't know who you are," Batman said, his voice cutting through the haze like a razor, "but you're in my way."

Spider-Man dropped to one knee, gasping for breath. "Yeah? Well, I don't know who you are either," he spat, eyes narrowing behind his mask. "But people like you don't last long in New York."

With sheer willpower, Spider-Man pushed through the paralysis, firing a web blindly in Batman's direction. It missed, but the act was enough to throw off Batman's rhythm. Spider-Man took a deep breath, letting his Spider-Sense guide him. The Dark Knight was close, too close.

Batman reached for him, but Spider-Man moved quicker than thought, vaulting over his head and shooting a webline directly at Batman's gauntlet. The sticky fluid gummed up the mechanism, freezing Batman's grapple gun in place.

"You think this is gonna stop me?" Batman growled, ripping the webbing away with a single pull. His eyes, cold and calculating, bore into Spider-Man's. But before he could close the gap, something else caught both of their attention.

A low, rumbling sound—like thunder, but worse—echoed through the city. The ground shook beneath them, and Spider-Man's instincts screamed.

"That... doesn't sound good," Spider-Man muttered, looking around.

Batman ignored the warning signs, still locked on his target. But then a shadow passed over them both, something massive blotting out the streetlights. Spider-Man looked up, eyes widening beneath his mask.

"Uh, Bat-dude... might wanna look up."

Batman's gaze followed his opponent's, and for the first time since he arrived in this strange world, he paused. Hovering above them, descending like a living fortress, was something he recognized. Not from this universe, but something that echoed the war machines he had fought in Gotham.

A Helicarrier.

Massive engines roared overhead as the colossal vessel came to a halt in the sky, blotting out the moon. Red lights blinked on its underbelly, and armed men in advanced tactical suits began to rappel from the carrier, landing on the streets like a military invasion.

Spider-Man groaned. "Great, S.H.I.E.L.D. I was hoping to finish this with a little less drama."

Batman didn't flinch as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents surrounded them. He assessed the situation with icy calm, calculating every possible escape route, every weak point in their formation. But before he could act, a voice boomed from the hovering Helicarrier.

"Stand down, both of you."

A man in a long black trench coat strode through the line of agents, his single eye gleaming under the brim of his signature eyepatch. Nick Fury.

Spider-Man groaned under his breath. "Oh man, now it's a party."

Fury approached, stopping only a few feet away from the two costumed heroes. His expression was unreadable, but there was no mistaking the weight of authority in his voice.

"I don't know who you are," Fury said, his gaze locking onto Batman, "but you just found yourself in the middle of something a lot bigger than Gotham City."

Batman didn't blink. His eyes, burning behind the white lenses, fixed on Fury with the same cold, calculated resolve that had brought down empires in Gotham.

"Gotham's not the problem," Batman said, his voice low and menacing. "I want answers. Now."

Fury didn't back down, his face hard as stone. "You'll get answers. But first, you're coming with me."

For the first time since he arrived, Batman hesitated. He glanced at Spider-Man, then at Fury, and finally at the Helicarrier looming above them like some kind of god of war. His mind raced, calculating the odds, the exits, the possible traps.

But something told him that this wasn't a fight he could win with brute force—not yet.

Without another word, Batman stepped forward, submitting to Fury's soldiers as they cautiously moved in to take him into custody. Spider-Man watched in stunned silence.

As Batman was escorted toward a waiting transport, Fury turned to Spider-Man. "You're coming too. I think you're going to want to hear this."

Spider-Man sighed, throwing his hands up. "Great. What's next? Aliens?"

Fury's expression didn't change.

"Worse."