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SHARDS OF SHATTERED GLASS COAT THE FLOOR OF TOWER BRIDGE, a window upon the floor having been broken open by none other than the Spider-Man of New York, or, as he was less commonly known as, Peter Parker. The boy hangs upside-down from the ceiling, and dangling beneath him, stopped from falling only by Peter's tight grip upon his shirt is Quentin Beck, his fish-bowl shaped possessing web-like cracks, caused by none other than the teenager himself.
"Your lies are over, Beck," Peter speaks directly to the man who had terrorised the world for far too long, his eyes narrowed at him from behind his mask. His knuckles linger upon the brink of turning white as he clutched down on the shirt of the man, his anger, and other various emotions, directed toward Quentin, the man he'd once trusted, threatening to spill over.
"This certainly isn't ideal, but I have contingencies," Quentin tells the boy, glancing over to look upon the fallen form of Analisa Morgan, whom Peter, until this moment, had yet to notice. The boy, however, follows his gaze, horror and dread arising within him when he notices the puddle of crimson beneath the, albeit still seemingly conscious body, of Analisa, stemming from a wound piercing her chest. The woman, through the pain, utters the name of Peter, but before he can make a move toward her, he is cut off by Quentin's voice. "EDITH?"
As if a timed dance signified to commence upon the words of Quentin, a blast fired from a drone slams into the chest Peter Parker, throwing him far away from the man who'd commanded the action, and against the floor. Gingerly, the boy pushes himself back up again, standing his ground, Peter stands back up almost instantly, his hand painfully clutched upon his chest, over his, most-likely broke, rib. At first, he looks past Quentin, and upon the form of Analisa, unsure if she was a part of the true reality or just a figment of fiction. He then, with determination held within his gaze, looks back to Beck. "Just give me the glasses."
"You want these?" With an undeniable arrogance laced deeply within his calm tone, Quentin holds up the pair of technological glasses for the boy to view. Two of his drones linger by his side, ready to strike at any moment, and many more soon emerge also, an army of the technology by his side; ready to fight one kid. "Come and get them."
A swift shimmer of blue floods the vision of Peter, and, within mere seconds, his whole world turns to black, the only colour being a green mist beneath his feet. The boy, familiar with the illusions that'd been forced upon him, allows himself a moment to simply breathe, his eyes shutting as he attempts to focus his senses. "Come on, Peter-tingle."
And then, his eyes bursting open once more, Peter rushes forward into the void of nothingness. Having no sight to guide him through the darkness, Peter is forced to rely entirely upon his spider-senses to avoid the relentless attacks of countless drones, a task done successfully by him; the boy flipping over many of the drones, purposely destroying some in the process. He, though, is knocked to the ground many times, but he gets up regardless.
