Not So Friendly Anymore

Chapter 15: Breaking the Chain

The night air was cold and sharp, biting into Peter's skin beneath his suit. He didn't mind. The numbness helped. Emotions were the first things to die in a war, and Peter Parker no longer felt anything but purpose. Tonight, Smythe and Crossbones were going to die, and with each death, Osborn's empire would inch closer to collapse.

Perched on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse, Peter stared through the night vision lenses the symbiote granted him, scanning the target, a fortified industrial compound humming with activity. The buzzing of Spider-Slayers inside was faint, like a distant swarm of wasps, but Peter knew their threat all too well. These machines were designed to hunt him, to study his every move, every weakness. And he was done running from them.

Beside him, Sable adjusted the strap of her rifle, her silver armor gleaming faintly under the moonlight. Her movements were precise, controlled. "Perimeter patrol changes every forty-five seconds. Two guards on the north gate. Five inside, armed with pulse rifles." She glanced at Peter, her voice low and cold. "No hesitation tonight."

Peter gave a sharp nod. "There won't be."

"On my signal," Sable whispered, rising to her feet.

Peter fired a web toward the compound's outer wall, and with a flick of his wrist, shot through the air. He landed silently, clinging to the shadows as Sable moved like a ghost behind him.

The first two guards at the north gate didn't even see him coming. A web shot to the throat silenced one, and before the other could react, Peter's boot slammed into his jaw, sending him crumpling into the dirt.

Sable put a bullet in the second man's head. The muffled pop of the silencer echoed for only a second before silence reclaimed the night.

Peter glanced down at the lifeless bodies. "Two down."

"Three more inside," Sable said, already moving.

They slipped through the north gate and into the compound's heart, where rows of unfinished Spider-Slayers hung from the ceiling, their lifeless red eyes like dormant predators. The hum of machinery filled the air, accompanied by the faint buzz of patrolling drones.

Peter and Sable moved as one, their steps synchronized. A guard turned the corner, his pulse rifle raised, too slow. A web shot tangled his weapon, and Peter followed with a brutal punch that shattered the man's nose. Blood sprayed across the floor as the guard fell limp.

"Leave him," Sable ordered, her voice flat. "We're here for Smythe."

Peter stepped over the unconscious body without a second thought.

They reached the lab doors without incident. Peter fired a web at the control panel, yanking it free, and the doors hissed open with a mechanical groan.

Inside, Alistair Smythe hunched over a console, typing furiously. Rows of Spider-Slayers lined the walls, their metallic limbs twitching as systems rebooted.

Peter's presence was announced with the sharp thwip of webbing striking Smythe's arm, yanking him from the console. The man hit the floor hard, coughing as he tried to scramble away.

"Spider-man," Smythe gasped, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and fear. "I knew you'd come."

Peter stalked toward him, his steps deliberate, measured. "Then you know why I'm here."

Smythe sneered despite the blood trickling from his lips. "You think killing me will stop anything? Osborn owns this city. You're just a loose end."

Peter didn't reply. Words were meaningless now. He grabbed Smythe by the throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The man thrashed and clawed at Peter's hand, gasping for air.