Fast

The tall, thin man felt a flicker of surprise as he watched Gwen recover from the powerful punch he had delivered. On one hand, he hadn't expected her to react fast enough to block his strike. On the other, even though the blow had sent her flying, she didn't seem seriously injured. She had taken the hit better than most.

Spider-People were known for their unique physiology. Despite their slim builds and small frames, they were unbelievably durable. Their strength and resilience often allowed them to survive extreme situations—like being hit by a train—and walk away as if nothing had happened. Gwen, like the others, had this same gift. Even though the punch had been strong enough to flatten most opponents, she had stood back up, ready to continue the fight.

Still, her performance had caught him off guard. Gwen was known for her agility, but he hadn't expected her to keep up with his speed. Very few could match him in movement and reflexes, yet she had managed to react to his punches. 

"No wonder they said this planet was interesting," the man muttered to himself, a faint smile curling his lips. His figure blurred for a split second, and then he was standing directly in front of Gwen again.

To an average observer, it would have looked like he teleported. A sharp boom erupted as the force of his movement broke the sound barrier, and a visible shockwave rippled outward. Yet before the shockwave had even spread, he was already standing in Gwen's face, reaching out with an open hand. 

Gwen's spider-sense flared like an alarm in her head, slowing everything down as it heightened her awareness. She could see his hand moving toward her, each finger stretched wide like claws. Even with her enhanced reflexes, the speed of his attack left her only milliseconds to react. If Charlie, monitoring her through his interface, had been even slightly slower to press the dodge command, she would have been caught.

But Charlie's experience shone through. Gwen twisted her body at the last possible moment, just enough to let his hand pass by her. His arm brushed against her hood, the force of his strike whipping the fabric. She landed gracefully on one hand, her palm flat on the pavement, and used the momentum to kick her leg upward in a counterattack aimed directly at his face.

The move wasn't planned—it was pure instinct, a reaction born from years of fighting experience. Yet it was executed perfectly. Gwen's kick was fast, precise, and fluid, like a dance move, and it used his own speed against him. It was a classic Spider-Fighting move: agile, creative, and unexpected. Her leg arced upward like a scythe, perfectly positioned to intercept him mid-charge.

Spider-People were known for their ability to predict attacks rather than purely outrun them. Thanks to their spider-sense, they could anticipate the trajectory of even the fastest projectiles and react accordingly. This ability had helped Spider-Man himself defeat speedsters in the past. Although a speedster might move faster than the eye could follow, they often relied on their momentum, making it easier to predict their movements and intercept them.

For a moment, it seemed like Gwen's kick would land. It was perfectly timed and positioned. But the tall man wasn't just fast—he was also highly skilled. He twisted his body mid-stride, defying the laws of physics, and released a burst of energy that propelled him sideways. His movement created an afterimage, and Gwen's kick sliced through empty air. 

Before she could recover, he used the momentum of his dodge to shoulder-check her with incredible force. The impact felt like being hit by a speeding car. Gwen's body was launched into the air and sent tumbling across the ground. She rolled several times before coming to a stop, but to her credit, she quickly stood up again, brushing dust off her suit.

"Alright, speedster," she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're good, but don't get cocky."

The man tilted his head, amused by her resilience. "You're not bad yourself," he admitted, his voice calm and confident. "It's been a long time since anyone's reacted to me like that."

He paused, smiling faintly. "But let's not kid ourselves. I'm the fastest being in the universe. No one comes close to my speed—not here, not anywhere."

Gwen raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Fastest in the universe, huh? Bold claim. You might want to hold off on that until you've actually seen the whole universe. Just saying."

The man chuckled, his confidence unshaken. "The universe isn't as big as you think. But fine, I'll say this: if anyone on this planet is faster than me, I'll—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a loud crack echoed through the air. His pupils shrank, and his head instinctively turned to the source of the sound. But he wasn't fast enough.

A red fist, trailing a streak of electricity, slammed into his face. The punch landed with devastating force, snapping his head to the side and launching him across the street. His body tumbled through the air before crashing into a nearby wall, leaving a deep crater in the concrete.

Standing in his place was a new figure, dressed in red and gold, surrounded by flickering arcs of lightning. The Flash had arrived.

Gwen let out a relieved sigh and walked over to her new ally. "Nice timing," she said. "Thanks for the assist."

The Flash kept his eyes on the downed enemy, his expression wary. "That guy's fast," he said, his voice cautious. "When I punched him, it felt like he was about to dodge. If I'd been even a fraction slower, he might've avoided it entirely. His reflexes are insane."

Gwen raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. "Yeah, great. Let's focus on the fact that you did hit him and maybe stop giving him so much credit."

The Flash chuckled sheepishly but didn't look away from the rubble. "Fair enough. But stay alert. I don't think he's done yet."