u/KingInRed-2001

So I’m at the Eclipse Found node where you fight Nico, Morgan and Agatha (Morgan & Agatha have ISO Healer) and am having nothing short of a god awful time

How do I beat those Coven beasts?

Explosions rocked the forest as Bucky was thrown back, his chest reeling from John Walker’s foot. He had led the initial defence line the minute AIM forces breached the perimeter; he was the last of the wave to survive. John whipped out his pistol and aimed at Bucky…until a blur tackled him to the ground.

Steve, covered in dirt and bruises from fighting the numerous US Agents sent to destroy the bunker, threw a punch which connected with John’s jaw, sending him flying into a nearby tree as Sam arrived. He used a stolen AIM rifle and stunned John, then turned to make sure Steven and Bucky were alright.

Peggy stepped forward, using her assault rifle to burst rounds at the trio before Steven stepped forward. As if by magic, the watch Sam had given him exploded into an orb of red, white, and blue. A star marked the point where Steven had deployed the force field. He pressed forward, keeping Sam and Bucky inside as Peggy continued to unload. Then, when they were close enough, he turned the watch off.

Bucky and Sam tackled Peggy to the ground before she could react, barely noticing the AIM soldiers approaching. Steve did; he leapt forward and activated the shield once again. Except it did not form a dome, but a disc. He swung; it spun wildly, slamming into bodies and trees before flying back onto the watch. Once he was certain the bunker and its surroundings were clear, he grabbed Peggy by the collar and gave her a warning: stay away from him and his friends. She agreed reluctantly and wandered off.

An hour later, Steven had found his way back to the room. Sam and Bucky let themselves in, praising him on a job well done and reminding him the offer still stood. This time, Steve needed no time to think; he said yes on the spot. Sam nodded to a junior soldier, who presented a duffel bag. Inside: Flag Smasher gear, including a uniform and mask. Steve smiled, taking Sam’s hand as he officially joined the good guys.

AIM HQ

They had come tonight to bear witness to his words, the words of the esteemed father to their corporation. The “Scientist Supreme” was here, and he would speak to the whole of AIM. Arnim Zola gave a keynote speech, inflaming the egos of those present as he sang praises to their founder. The clock struck eight, and he led waves of cheers as a portion of the floor above him began to appear.

The man was a beast, pure muscle decorated in tattoos. On each of his arms were five rings, humming a mysterious blue as electricity seemed to course in his blood. The cheers exploded the minute his visage appeared on the screen, and he rose to his feet with a battle cry. Now, here, he was not just the “Scientist Supreme”.

Here…he was their Kingpin.

Explosions rocked the forest as Bucky was thrown back, his chest reeling from John Walker’s foot. He had led the initial defence line the minute AIM forces breached the perimeter; he was the last of the wave to survive. John whipped out his pistol and aimed at Bucky…until a blur tackled him to the ground.

Steve, covered in dirt and bruises from fighting the numerous US Agents sent to destroy the bunker, threw a punch which connected with John’s jaw, sending him flying into a nearby tree as Sam arrived. He used a stolen AIM rifle and stunned John, then turned to make sure Steven and Bucky were alright.

Peggy stepped forward, using her assault rifle to burst rounds at the trio before Steven stepped forward. As if by magic, the watch Sam had given him exploded into an orb of red, white, and blue. A star marked the point where Steven had deployed the force field. He pressed forward, keeping Sam and Bucky inside as Peggy continued to unload. Then, when they were close enough, he turned the watch off.

Bucky and Sam tackled Peggy to the ground before she could react, barely noticing the AIM soldiers approaching. Steve did; he leapt forward and activated the shield once again. Except it did not form a dome, but a disc. He swung; it spun wildly, slamming into bodies and trees before flying back onto the watch. Once he was certain the bunker and its surroundings were clear, he grabbed Peggy by the collar and gave her a warning: stay away from him and his friends. She agreed reluctantly and wandered off.

An hour later, Steven had found his way back to the room. Sam and Bucky let themselves in, praising him on a job well done and reminding him the offer still stood. This time, Steve needed no time to think; he said yes on the spot. Sam nodded to a junior soldier, who presented a duffel bag. Inside: Flag Smasher gear, including a uniform and mask. Steve smiled, taking Sam’s hand as he officially joined the good guys.

AIM HQ

They had come tonight to bear witness to his words, the words of the esteemed father to their corporation. The “Scientist Supreme” was here, and he would speak to the whole of AIM. Arnim Zola gave a keynote speech, inflaming the egos of those present as he sang praises to their founder. The clock struck eight, and he led waves of cheers as a portion of the floor above him began to appear.

The man was a beast, pure muscle decorated in tattoos. On each of his arms were five rings, humming a mysterious blue as electricity seemed to course in his blood. The cheers exploded the minute his visage appeared on the screen, and he rose to his feet with a battle cry. Now, here, he was not just the “Scientist Supreme”.

Here…he was their Kingpin.

Explosions rocked the forest as Bucky was thrown back, his chest reeling from John Walker’s foot. He had led the initial defence line the minute AIM forces breached the perimeter; he was the last of the wave to survive. John whipped out his pistol and aimed at Bucky…until a blur tackled him to the ground.

Steve, covered in dirt and bruises from fighting the numerous US Agents sent to destroy the bunker, threw a punch which connected with John’s jaw, sending him flying into a nearby tree as Sam arrived. He used a stolen AIM rifle and stunned John, then turned to make sure Steven and Bucky were alright.

Peggy stepped forward, using her assault rifle to burst rounds at the trio before Steven stepped forward. As if by magic, the watch Sam had given him exploded into an orb of red, white, and blue. A star marked the point where Steven had deployed the force field. He pressed forward, keeping Sam and Bucky inside as Peggy continued to unload. Then, when they were close enough, he turned the watch off.

Bucky and Sam tackled Peggy to the ground before she could react, barely noticing the AIM soldiers approaching. Steve did; he leapt forward and activated the shield once again. Except it did not form a dome, but a disc. He swung; it spun wildly, slamming into bodies and trees before flying back onto the watch. Once he was certain the bunker and its surroundings were clear, he grabbed Peggy by the collar and gave her a warning: stay away from him and his friends. She agreed reluctantly and wandered off.

An hour later, Steven had found his way back to the room. Sam and Bucky let themselves in, praising him on a job well done and reminding him the offer still stood. This time, Steve needed no time to think; he said yes on the spot. Sam nodded to a junior soldier, who presented a duffel bag. Inside: Flag Smasher gear, including a uniform and mask. Steve smiled, taking Sam’s hand as he officially joined the good guys.

AIM HQ

They had come tonight to bear witness to his words, the words of the esteemed father to their corporation. The “Scientist Supreme” was here, and he would speak to the whole of AIM. Arnim Zola gave a keynote speech, inflaming the egos of those present as he sang praises to their founder. The clock struck eight, and he led waves of cheers as a portion of the floor above him began to appear.

The man was a beast, pure muscle decorated in tattoos. On each of his arms were five rings, humming a mysterious blue as electricity seemed to course in his blood. The cheers exploded the minute his visage appeared on the screen, and he rose to his feet with a battle cry. Now, here, he was not just the “Scientist Supreme”.

Here…he was their Kingpin.

White. The sensation of cold metal against his naked back. A blinding light. Steve Rogers stirred in this environment as men dressed like beekeepers surrounded him. A needle positioned above his left arm; a laser inscribed a number as he screamed in agony. Steve’s vision flashed white and red as he fought back…only for the shadow to darken his vision. The beekeepers gave only one name: Zola.

Steve rocketed up in a sweat, the smell of musk immediately hitting him. The room, if this tiny space could even be considered one, was dark and filthy, with water running down paths marked by rust. There was a sink and a stained mirror; Steve wiped the mold off, washed his hands, and looked in the mirror. Then he turned back to the bed, slipped into a pre-folded set of clothes, and walked out the door.

Waiting outside were two men, both clearly
exhausted after a night of keeping watch. They asked who he was, and he answered truthfully. The man on the left introduced himself as Sam Wilson, leader of the Flag Smashers rebellion against Advanced Idea Mechanics. His second-in-command was James “Bucky” Barnes. Both had been locked in this war for far too long; Steve, being one of AIM’s latest runaways, gave them an advantage.

Steve was shown around the bunker, one of many built across the United States. They explained AIM’s history: a biotechnology company with money in the pockets of nearly every politician and defence contractor in the country, maybe even the world. Everyone in the Flag Smashers had their own reasons of joining the fight; Steven had his own, too, although he did not remember now. They gave Steve a choice: join the cause now as an active soldier, or go on his own and come back at anytime.

Sam personally escorted Steve out; he had chosen to find his own path first. He watched the man leave with nothing but his clothes and a duffel bag, then stopped him and gave something new: a watch, one he had taken from an AIM facility up north. Steve nodded and disappeared beyond the clearing; he did not notice the drone that Sam had programmed to follow him.

Elsewhere

Los Angeles, California. The building sat on a cliff overlooking the Pacific, modern and sleek in design. A sharp-cornered hexagon was visible on every wall, the word AIM in bright yellow.

Armin Zola walked down the hall and made a right, acknowledging two US Agents as their eyes met. He made another left, then walked straight ahead and scanned his key at the farthest door. This was his office, the place where he approved every business decision and lab test. All for his king, the true leader of this place. But that was for another time.

Zola checked the file he had been sent: the runaway, Steve Rogers. The asset who, mere hours after being awoken and marked, had beaten his way out of their underground testing site and run off to God-knew-where. He was not worried; he simply activated a tracker and watched as the target escaped the woods, hitchhiking with a random stranger and heading east. He smiled, closed the tab, and made the call.

White. The sensation of cold metal against his naked back. A blinding light. Steve Rogers stirred in this environment as men dressed like beekeepers surrounded him. A needle positioned above his left arm; a laser inscribed a number as he screamed in agony. Steve’s vision flashed white and red as he fought back…only for the shadow to darken his vision. The beekeepers gave only one name: Zola.

Steve rocketed up in a sweat, the smell of musk immediately hitting him. The room, if this tiny space could even be considered one, was dark and filthy, with water running down paths marked by rust. There was a sink and a stained mirror; Steve wiped the mold off, washed his hands, and looked in the mirror. Then he turned back to the bed, slipped into a pre-folded set of clothes, and walked out the door.

Waiting outside were two men, both clearly
exhausted after a night of keeping watch. They asked who he was, and he answered truthfully. The man on the left introduced himself as Sam Wilson, leader of the Flag Smashers rebellion against Advanced Idea Mechanics. His second-in-command was James “Bucky” Barnes. Both had been locked in this war for far too long; Steve, being one of AIM’s latest runaways, gave them an advantage.

Steve was shown around the bunker, one of many built across the United States. They explained AIM’s history: a biotechnology company with money in the pockets of nearly every politician and defence contractor in the country, maybe even the world. Everyone in the Flag Smashers had their own reasons of joining the fight; Steven had his own, too, although he did not remember now. They gave Steve a choice: join the cause now as an active soldier, or go on his own and come back at anytime.

Sam personally escorted Steve out; he had chosen to find his own path first. He watched the man leave with nothing but his clothes and a duffel bag, then stopped him and gave something new: a watch, one he had taken from an AIM facility up north. Steve nodded and disappeared beyond the clearing; he did not notice the drone that Sam had programmed to follow him.

Elsewhere

Los Angeles, California. The building sat on a cliff overlooking the Pacific, modern and sleek in design. A sharp-cornered hexagon was visible on every wall, the word AIM in bright yellow.

Armin Zola walked down the hall and made a right, acknowledging two US Agents as their eyes met. He made another left, then walked straight ahead and scanned his key at the farthest door. This was his office, the place where he approved every business decision and lab test. All for his king, the true leader of this place. But that was for another time.

Zola checked the file he had been sent: the runaway, Steve Rogers. The asset who, mere hours after being awoken and marked, had beaten his way out of their underground testing site and run off to God-knew-where. He was not worried; he simply activated a tracker and watched as the target escaped the woods, hitchhiking with a random stranger and heading east. He smiled, closed the tab, and made the call.

Rain. Thunder. The trembling of the ground itself. That was what Steve Rogers felt as he sprinted across the woods, vision dark and blurry. He had woken mere hours ago in an underground facility, kept in a state of cryostasis which disoriented his senses and left him a violent, impossibly quick mass.

Steve found shelter soon enough: a pile of sticks and loose leaves behind a log. He acted with pure instinct, covering his body just as another round of thunder erupted. Then they came. The flashlights. The dogs. The shouting. Steve held his breath as he rubbed dirt all over himself, doing anything possible to lose their scent. The soldiers spread out and came close to finding the runaway…until she ordered them to stop.

Margaret “Peggy” Carter, former SAS and currently a gun for hire, had been given her own contingent of “US Agents” to command. These were the rank-and-file soldiers of the renowned Advanced Idea Mechanics, a biotechnology company whose lab reported a missing asset three hours prior. She examined the forest, then turned to the storm; no way an enhanced individual, naked and afraid, would be able to last the night without being found. She gave the order: retreat. Let the fugitive show himself.

Captain John Walker heard this and protested immediately, making grand claims that he could find their target in a matter of minutes. His promises were received with a swift kick to the face as his superior officer put him in his place. She repeated the order, voice low and dangerous; he felt his very spirit running, tail between the legs. The Agents turned around and retreated, leaving Steve to run the other way.

He continued to run, to dodge the immovable trees as lightning struck randomly. He hid behind a boulder, then another log, each time waiting longer and longer than he would have liked. His eyes grew heavier by the second, limbs weak and mind blurry. He saw a light in the clear ing, and heard men shouting. Then he collapsed.

Later

It had been five years since Sam Wilson had started the “Flag Smasher” resistance, a rebel group with the sole aim of ending AIM’s tyranny once and for all. The soulless corporation, like all others, had bought politicians and sold the nation’s dignity. In fact, most of the world bent the knee to AIM and their mysterious founder, known only for his fists and not his words. Sam had spent five years fighting; he had spent as much time mourning his comrades.

James Barnes, also known as “Bucky”, walked into Sam’s office in a flustered state, his training as a Ranger vanishing in his state. He took several deep breaths, then reported the reason he had abandoned a forest patrol: there was a man, blond and tall, with blue eyes and a number written into his arm. The number was 70412011.

Rain. Thunder. The trembling of the ground itself. That was what Steve Rogers felt as he sprinted across the woods, vision dark and blurry. He had woken mere hours ago in an underground facility, kept in a state of cryostasis which disoriented his senses and left him a violent, impossibly quick mass.

Steve found shelter soon enough: a pile of sticks and loose leaves behind a log. He acted with pure instinct, covering his body just as another round of thunder erupted. Then they came. The flashlights. The dogs. The shouting. Steve held his breath as he rubbed dirt all over himself, doing anything possible to lose their scent. The soldiers spread out and came close to finding the runaway…until she ordered them to stop.

Margaret “Peggy” Carter, former SAS and currently a gun for hire, had been given her own contingent of “US Agents” to command. These were the rank-and-file soldiers of the renowned Advanced Idea Mechanics, a biotechnology company whose lab reported a missing asset three hours prior. She examined the forest, then turned to the storm; no way an enhanced individual, naked and afraid, would be able to last the night without being found. She gave the order: retreat. Let the fugitive show himself.

Captain John Walker heard this and protested immediately, making grand claims that he could find their target in a matter of minutes. His promises were received with a swift kick to the face as his superior officer put him in his place. She repeated the order, voice low and dangerous; he felt his very spirit running, tail between the legs. The Agents turned around and retreated, leaving Steve to run the other way.

He continued to run, to dodge the immovable trees as lightning struck randomly. He hid behind a boulder, then another log, each time waiting longer and longer than he would have liked. His eyes grew heavier by the second, limbs weak and mind blurry. He saw a light in the clear ing, and heard men shouting. Then he collapsed.

Later

It had been five years since Sam Wilson had started the “Flag Smasher” resistance, a rebel group with the sole aim of ending AIM’s tyranny once and for all. The soulless corporation, like all others, had bought politicians and sold the nation’s dignity. In fact, most of the world bent the knee to AIM and their mysterious founder, known only for his fists and not his words. Sam had spent five years fighting; he had spent as much time mourning his comrades.

James Barnes, also known as “Bucky”, walked into Sam’s office in a flustered state, his training as a Ranger vanishing in his state. He took several deep breaths, then reported the reason he had abandoned a forest patrol: there was a man, blond and tall, with blue eyes and a number written into his arm. The number was 70412011.

Rain. Thunder. The trembling of the ground itself. That was what Steve Rogers felt as he sprinted across the woods, vision dark and blurry. He had woken mere hours ago in an underground facility, kept in a state of cryostasis which disoriented his senses and left him a violent, impossibly quick mass.

Steve found shelter soon enough: a pile of sticks and loose leaves behind a log. He acted with pure instinct, covering his body just as another round of thunder erupted. Then they came. The flashlights. The dogs. The shouting. Steve held his breath as he rubbed dirt all over himself, doing anything possible to lose their scent. The soldiers spread out and came close to finding the runaway…until she ordered them to stop.

Margaret “Peggy” Carter, former SAS and currently a gun for hire, had been given her own contingent of “US Agents” to command. These were the rank-and-file soldiers of the renowned Advanced Idea Mechanics, a biotechnology company whose lab reported a missing asset three hours prior. She examined the forest, then turned to the storm; no way an enhanced individual, naked and afraid, would be able to last the night without being found. She gave the order: retreat. Let the fugitive show himself.

Captain John Walker heard this and protested immediately, making grand claims that he could find their target in a matter of minutes. His promises were received with a swift kick to the face as his superior officer put him in his place. She repeated the order, voice low and dangerous; he felt his very spirit running, tail between the legs. The Agents turned around and retreated, leaving Steve to run the other way.

He continued to run, to dodge the immovable trees as lightning struck randomly. He hid behind a boulder, then another log, each time waiting longer and longer than he would have liked. His eyes grew heavier by the second, limbs weak and mind blurry. He saw a light in the clear ing, and heard men shouting. Then he collapsed.

Later

It had been five years since Sam Wilson had started the “Flag Smasher” resistance, a rebel group with the sole aim of ending AIM’s tyranny once and for all. The soulless corporation, like all others, had bought politicians and sold the nation’s dignity. In fact, most of the world bent the knee to AIM and their mysterious founder, known only for his fists and not his words. Sam had spent five years fighting; he had spent as much time mourning his comrades.

James Barnes, also known as “Bucky”, walked into Sam’s office in a flustered state, his training as a Ranger vanishing in his state. He took several deep breaths, then reported the reason he had abandoned a forest patrol: there was a man, blond and tall, with blue eyes and a number written into his arm. The number was 70412011.

Raven Kroft Institute was a modern facility up the Hudson River, north of the city and surrounded by a massive treeline. Which meant nothing for a man with tensile webbing who swung from tree to tree and landed on the roof. The door was no issue; he simply fired a wire at the lock, and it shattered.

The lobby was empty at this time of day, but Spider-Man still inspected it. He found what he was looking for: the elevator. He opened the car door and got in, breaking open the maintenance panel and working with night vision to hijack the system. It worked; the doors slid shut and descended all the way down, even when the main screen showed nothing.

What Spider-Man found shocked him: a long hallway filled with glass cages, each of them containing a different “patient”, as the labelling system called them. But they weren’t patients; they were monstrosities. A bald, half-deformed man with wings sprouting from his arms. A woman who looked less like a human and more like some tiger hybrid. A man whose body was growing rock-like lumps. And eventually…Alex, his forehead growing an ivory horn as his skin thickened.

Spider-Man approached Alex’s box before he felt the air turn cold. He turned; the man in front of him was a scientist, perfectly fine apart from the strange metal arm he wore. The doctor was unafraid; in fact, he smiled almost eerily as he spoke to the intruder, treating him as yet another patient to care for. Spider-Man charged…and with a single punch from the metal arm, was pushed back. Then the doctor revealed his truth.

His skin turned scaly and green as limbs grew beyond what his clothes could hide. The metal arm groaned and shattered, a fragment hitting Spider-Man’s leg. His eyes turned a sickly yellow-green as his pupils turned to vertical slits. His teeth sharpened into fangs as his jaw unhinged without fully breaking. And his tail…it was protruding bones creating out of thin air.

Spider-Man tried to move; the injury was too great. He could only groan as a massive claw pinned down on his body, fracturing ribs by a hairline. He groaned out a single question: who was the beast overpowering him? The answer was simple: he was…The Lizard.

Raven Kroft Institute was a modern facility up the Hudson River, north of the city and surrounded by a massive treeline. Which meant nothing for a man with tensile webbing who swung from tree to tree and landed on the roof. The door was no issue; he simply fired a wire at the lock, and it shattered.

The lobby was empty at this time of day, but Spider-Man still inspected it. He found what he was looking for: the elevator. He opened the car door and got in, breaking open the maintenance panel and working with night vision to hijack the system. It worked; the doors slid shut and descended all the way down, even when the main screen showed nothing.

What Spider-Man found shocked him: a long hallway filled with glass cages, each of them containing a different “patient”, as the labelling system called them. But they weren’t patients; they were monstrosities. A bald, half-deformed man with wings sprouting from his arms. A woman who looked less like a human and more like some tiger hybrid. A man whose body was growing rock-like lumps. And eventually…Alex, his forehead growing an ivory horn as his skin thickened.

Spider-Man approached Alex’s box before he felt the air turn cold. He turned; the man in front of him was a scientist, perfectly fine apart from the strange metal arm he wore. The doctor was unafraid; in fact, he smiled almost eerily as he spoke to the intruder, treating him as yet another patient to care for. Spider-Man charged…and with a single punch from the metal arm, was pushed back. Then the doctor revealed his truth.

His skin turned scaly and green as limbs grew beyond what his clothes could hide. The metal arm groaned and shattered, a fragment hitting Spider-Man’s leg. His eyes turned a sickly yellow-green as his pupils turned to vertical slits. His teeth sharpened into fangs as his jaw unhinged without fully breaking. And his tail…it was protruding bones creating out of thin air.

Spider-Man tried to move; the injury was too great. He could only groan as a massive claw pinned down on his body, fracturing ribs by a hairline. He groaned out a single question: who was the beast overpowering him? The answer was simple: he was…The Lizard.

Raven Kroft Institute was a modern facility up the Hudson River, north of the city and surrounded by a massive treeline. Which meant nothing for a man with tensile webbing who swung from tree to tree and landed on the roof. The door was no issue; he simply fired a wire at the lock, and it shattered.

The lobby was empty at this time of day, but Spider-Man still inspected it. He found what he was looking for: the elevator. He opened the car door and got in, breaking open the maintenance panel and working with night vision to hijack the system. It worked; the doors slid shut and descended all the way down, even when the main screen showed nothing.

What Spider-Man found shocked him: a long hallway filled with glass cages, each of them containing a different “patient”, as the labelling system called them. But they weren’t patients; they were monstrosities. A bald, half-deformed man with wings sprouting from his arms. A woman who looked less like a human and more like some tiger hybrid. A man whose body was growing rock-like lumps. And eventually…Alex, his forehead growing an ivory horn as his skin thickened.

Spider-Man approached Alex’s box before he felt the air turn cold. He turned; the man in front of him was a scientist, perfectly fine apart from the strange metal arm he wore. The doctor was unafraid; in fact, he smiled almost eerily as he spoke to the intruder, treating him as yet another patient to care for. Spider-Man charged…and with a single punch from the metal arm, was pushed back. Then the doctor revealed his truth.

His skin turned scaly and green as limbs grew beyond what his clothes could hide. The metal arm groaned and shattered, a fragment hitting Spider-Man’s leg. His eyes turned a sickly yellow-green as his pupils turned to vertical slits. His teeth sharpened into fangs as his jaw unhinged without fully breaking. And his tail…it was protruding bones creating out of thin air.

Spider-Man tried to move; the injury was too great. He could only groan as a massive claw pinned down on his body, fracturing ribs by a hairline. He groaned out a single question: who was the beast overpowering him? The answer was simple: he was…The Lizard.

Peter woke up in the apartment, Felicia and Aaron watching over him. They helped him up and got him up to speed: Herman was at the police station filing a missing persons report for Alex, while Otto was out looking for more medical supplies. Peter regained full consciousness and noticed him: the older man in the corner, his right hand holding a silenced pistol.

Aaron and Felicia had to hold Peter back as he tried to attack, but the man stopped the conflict with a hand. He introduced himself once Herman and Otto came back: his name was Norman Osborn, a CIA officer assigned to monitor the “Spider-Man”. However, he had another mission he intended to complete, and called for a mutual alliance. The reason: the people who kidnapped Alex Horne were the same people he was following.

Peter paused, then stepped aside to give Norman access to their laptop. He plugged a thumb drive in and began typing, then showed several documents on the screen. They all had the same name: “Raven Kroft”. Not a person, but an institution…and a clue. Peter got up and tried to leave, but Felicia stood between him and the door. She forced him to look in the closet; there was a new and improved suit.

Improved tensile webbing shooters, visors equipped with thermal and night vision imaging, and modified boots to ensure maximum silence. Otto had followed the blueprint; Norman provided it. Peter turned to the spy, a mutual understanding between them, then agreed to wait until nightfall.

Elsewhere

Maya Hansen walked down the corridor, heels clicking against cold metal and folder in hand. The screams of Raven Kroft’s many patients echoed around her; she paid no attention to them. Her sole focus was at the end of the hallway, behind a black door with a keypad which required both a card and a PIN. She provided both and listened for the door to unlock, then walked through.

He sat below a machine with needles positioned like a claw, monitors reading vitals while a separate table ran diagnostics on a metal arm. Maya had a report: the man that had been abducted as bait for the Spider had successfully passed testing for the latest iteration of something called “Extremis” and was ready for deployment. The man raised his right hand with a sneer; the weapon was for the city. He wanted the Spider.

Peter woke up in the apartment, Felicia and Aaron watching over him. They helped him up and got him up to speed: Herman was at the police station filing a missing persons report for Alex, while Otto was out looking for more medical supplies. Peter regained full consciousness and noticed him: the older man in the corner, his right hand holding a silenced pistol.

Aaron and Felicia had to hold Peter back as he tried to attack, but the man stopped the conflict with a hand. He introduced himself once Herman and Otto came back: his name was Norman Osborn, a CIA officer assigned to monitor the “Spider-Man”. However, he had another mission he intended to complete, and called for a mutual alliance. The reason: the people who kidnapped Alex Horne were the same people he was following.

Peter paused, then stepped aside to give Norman access to their laptop. He plugged a thumb drive in and began typing, then showed several documents on the screen. They all had the same name: “Raven Kroft”. Not a person, but an institution…and a clue. Peter got up and tried to leave, but Felicia stood between him and the door. She forced him to look in the closet; there was a new and improved suit.

Improved tensile webbing shooters, visors equipped with thermal and night vision imaging, and modified boots to ensure maximum silence. Otto had followed the blueprint; Norman provided it. Peter turned to the spy, a mutual understanding between them, then agreed to wait until nightfall.

Elsewhere

Maya Hansen walked down the corridor, heels clicking against cold metal and folder in hand. The screams of Raven Kroft’s many patients echoed around her; she paid no attention to them. Her sole focus was at the end of the hallway, behind a black door with a keypad which required both a card and a PIN. She provided both and listened for the door to unlock, then walked through.

He sat below a machine with needles positioned like a claw, monitors reading vitals while a separate table ran diagnostics on a metal arm. Maya had a report: the man that had been abducted as bait for the Spider had successfully passed testing for the latest iteration of something called “Extremis” and was ready for deployment. The man raised his right hand with a sneer; the weapon was for the city. He wanted the Spider.

Several years after the Josh Gad disappearance, and the subsequent implementation of the Doorman Clause, superhuman attorney Jennifer Walter’s AKA She-Hulk has spoken out in condemnation of said clause. The lawyer, who is best known for securing the short-lived parole of Emil Blonsky, expressed concerns Monday night about the discrimination of super-powered individuals.

“The 1776 Declaration of Independence expresses that the pursuit of happiness is an inalienable right,” Ms. Walters explained in a lengthy post. “Enhanced individuals have this right, and if they pursue happiness in the field of the arts, or any other field which matches their aspirations, it can be argued that this Doorman Clause is in direct violation of their pursuit, and by large, the Declaration upon which this country was built.”

Ms. Walters took the time to acknowledge the tragedy of Josh Gad’s disappearance, and that there have to be safeguards to prevent another such incident. “As an enhanced individual myself, I acknowledge the public’s concerns over misuse of abilities or, in the case of DeMarr Davis, accidental consequences of using such powers. That said, I am of the belief that we should have safeguard clauses and insurance plans. An outright ban on superhumans in the acting field is NOT the solution.”