Frostbite

Arachnida

He leaned over the stainless steel table to squint at the open circuitry, and polished robotic units lit up under the fluorescent workshop lighting. Hundreds of tools organized neat and clean on the storage rack that spanned one whole wall. Nine monitors hovered over his head, each its own display of upload phases, code lines, program optimizations—thick bundles of wires organized and zip-tied based on color and function protruded out their backs like starving snakes hooked into the metallic husk on the table, sectioned and in various states of assembly. All painstakingly molded, all fitted with the latest technology mined from the Stark Industries redacted blueprint vault.

It looked like a mess, but everything would be wrapped up in a bow by the end of the night. And if the bait was good enough, they'd have that spider shithead off his home turf in less than forty-eight hours.

Kairo sniffed and crossed his arms. "So he's good, right?"

Welding sparks lit up in one corner of the room.

"Who is."

"The guy you're putting in the suit. Gargan." He kept his back to the tubes that ran from the unfinished suit to the solid metal stasis chamber on the other side of the monitors. He couldn't see shit in there, but it was creepy. Who the hell just gets inside, not knowing what all those treatments could end up doing to you? "He's compatible, or whatever?"

Dr. Farley Stillwell set down his welder and lifted his welding helmet to rest on the top of his head. "If he wasn't, he would already be dead."

"And-And you're sure he can take care of Spider—"

Farley cast a dark gaze his way and he ducked his head at the motion.

"Spider-Man's abilities are well documented. Not easily replicable, but highly accessible. Strength, agility, durability—this suit was built in functional mimicry, enhanced with my own... upgrades. I've been wanting to test what this experiment can do." Farley's gaze flickered back to his work. "How lucky of me that my idiot son grants me the perfect opportunity."

Kairo bit his lip and said nothing.

"Engaging in direct combat with Spider-Man will be invaluable data. If he manages to walk away, the suit will be upgraded and optimized to the collected information. If he perishes from the encounter, then that is all the data we need. It's nearly impossible to come out of this at a loss."

"Wait, if?" He jabbed a hand at the suit. "You said this would kill Spider-Man!"

"It's certainly capable."

"But he's coming after me—!"

"And whose fault is that?" Farley spat. "You botch a contact with one of the most valuable mercenary dispatch centers in the nation, blacklist yourself throughout the whole coast, and when you retaliate you end up hiding underground because you kidnapped an old cook and a dish boy that were far more valuable than you have cared to research, and then proceed to murder the dish boy's aunt, though not before losing one of your men in the process. Have I got that all correct?"

Kairo clenched his hands together behind his back, his nails digging into the soft of his palms.

"You are lucky that I'm here to help you clean up your mess." His father scowled as he strode across the room, and Kairo shuffled to the side to clear out of his path. "Has all your business been concluded at Ryker's?"

He jerked his head in a short bob. "Yeah."

"Yes, what?"

"Ye-Yes, sir."

"Then I have a lot of work to do in a timeline that doesn't allow for any delays." And the doctor went back across the room with the welding helmet back in its proper place, his light blue lab coat trailing over his heels. "Go do something that won't add to any more of your problems."