Town Hall

Jessica walked through a sketchy neighbourhood in Queens early in the morning, the streets filled with the evidence of a rough life. Homeless people huddled under tattered blankets, drug addicts lurked in the shadows, and the remnants of rampant crime were everywhere. Broken windows, graffiti-covered walls, and the distant sound of sirens painted a bleak picture. As she walked, men called out to her, making lewd comments.

"Hey sweetheart, looking for some company?" one of them shouted.

"Got a pair of legs on ya haven't you babe," another one called out.

"That ass isn't too bad either, a bit small," one said with a laugh.

Jessica rolled her eyes and shouted back, "I'm 14, you perves!" She grabbed her flask of whiskey from her pocket and took a swig, the burning liquid offering a small comfort. She glanced at a piece of paper with an address and looked up at the dilapidated building in front of her. It looked horrible, condemned, with boarded-up windows and crumbling bricks. Pushing her way inside, she manoeuvred past druggies and drunks, shoving a man to the ground when he tried to grab her. She climbed the stairs to the third floor, each step creaking under her weight. Reaching apartment 42, she banged on the door, shouting, "Peter, get your ass up!" She kept banging until the door finally opened, revealing a dishevelled MJ.

"Jessica?" MJ said, surprise clear on her face.

"Watson?" Jessica replied, equally confused. She shook it off and barged past MJ, asking, "Where's Peter?"

"He's sleeping," MJ replied, her voice tired.

Jessica felt a pang in her heart knowing that Peter and MJ were living together. While she knew they were only friends, it hadn't stopped her from developing a crush on him. She took another drink from her flask, trying to push those thoughts away.

"Shall I get Peter?" MJ offered, closing the door and stepping towards her.

Jessica shook her head. "That boy gets too little sleep as it is. Let him rest."

MJ laughed a little at Jessica's words, but it was short-lived as she still felt the pain from what happened yesterday. "I'm glad someone understands," she said, offering Jessica some food or drink, which Jessica declined.

Instead, Jessica walked over to Peter's detective board, inspecting the evidence he had collected. Names like Tombstone, Taskmaster, and Kingpin were all connected by red strings, forming a complex web of connections.

"How did you know about Peter's secret?" Jessica asked, still examining the board.

MJ sighed and began to tell her story. "I found him almost dead one night. He was hurt so badly, I didn't think he'd make it. I dragged him out of the river and stopped the bleeding. After that, he told me everything. We've been living together since... neither of us really wanting to go home."

Jessica nodded, absorbing the information. "Are you two together?" she asked, a hint of curiosity and something else in her voice.

MJ blushed and shook her head. "No, we're just friends."

Jessica studied MJ for a moment before turning back to the board. "He's lucky to have you," she said quietly. She then goes back to looking at the board. "Peter's really outdone himself with this mess," Jessica said, breaking the silence. "How can a smart person be such an idiot... trying to take on a whole crime syndicate by himself."

MJ chuckled softly, despite herself. "Yeah, he's got this insane need to save everyone, even at risk to himself."

Jessica smirked. "You mean like how he thought he could take on Tombstone by himself? That bastard didn't even let me help."

"Tell me about it," MJ agreed. "I have to remind him to eat and sleep. Sometimes I feel like his mom."

"Maybe he just likes being mothered," Jessica teased, giving MJ a sideways glance.

MJ blushed slightly. "I just worry about him, you know? He's always putting himself in danger."

Jessica looked at MJ and offered a small smile. "At least he has us both to knock some sense into him."

Suddenly, Peter stumbled out of the bedroom, nearly falling to the ground. "I'm gonna be late for work," he mumbled, still half asleep.

MJ rolled her eyes and stood up, catching him before he could trip over his own feet. "Peter, you don't have work today," she said gently, leading him over to the sofa. She poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him.

Peter blinked a few times, trying to wake up fully. As he took a sip of the coffee, he finally noticed Jessica sitting nearby. "Oh, hey, Jess," he said, giving her a sleepy smile.

Jessica raised an eyebrow. "Hey, Peter. You look like you could use a few more hours of sleep."

Peter groaned. "Tell me about it. I thought I was late for work again."

MJ looked at him softly. "You really need to take it easy sometimes, Peter. You still haven't healed fully from yesterday,"

Peter nodded, still groggy. "I know, I know. I'll try to take it easier."

Jessica looked at Peter, inspecting his bare torso covered in burns and cuts. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight, and she couldn't help but frown. "What happened in Midtown yesterday?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. "I saw it on the news, but there's been a lot of conflicting reports."

Peter and MJ both frowned. MJ, feeling herself getting teary again, excused herself and went to the kitchen. Peter watched her go, a look of guilt flashing across his face before he turned back to Jessica.

"It was a mess," Peter began, taking a deep breath. "There was this kid, Ethan. He had these fire abilities that were out of control. He was scared, and things just kept getting worse. He ended up causing a huge explosion in the middle of the street."

Jessica's eyes widened. "A kid? With fire abilities?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. He was in a hospital gown and barefoot, so I think he might've escaped from somewhere. The police got involved, and it just spiralled out of control. I tried to save him, but..."

He trailed off, his voice heavy with regret. Jessica placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, urging him to continue.

"He got shot," Peter said, his voice barely above a whisper. "One of the cops hit him in the head. I couldn't do anything to save him. He died in my arms."

Jessica's heart sank. "Peter, I'm sorry."

Peter shook his head. "I have to find out where he came from. I can't let this happen to anyone else."

Jessica nodded in agreement. "Do you think he could've been one of the kids from the White Room? The ones being experimented on?"

Peter looked thoughtful. "It's possible. The way his powers were out of control, it makes sense. We need to dig deeper, there is too much we don't know."

Hearing them mention the White Room, MJ, who was wiping the tears away in the bathroom, chimed in. "Ethan did say he came from a white room with lots of others."

Peter and Jessica both turned to her, their expressions serious. "What exactly did he say, MJ?" Peter asked, urgency in his voice.

"He mentioned being in a white room with other kids," MJ explained, her voice trembling. "He said he managed to get out, but there were still others there."

Peter stood up, his eyes wide as he looked at Jessica. "That's more of a lead than I've gotten in months."

Peter ripped his map of New York off the wall and placed it on the table. "Alright, let's narrow this down," he said, slight excitement in his voice. "First, we'll mark where Ethan was discovered." He placed a red X on the map at the location of the explosion.

Jessica leaned in, her eyes scanning the map. "We need to consider how far he could have walked. He was in a hospital gown and barefoot, which means he couldn't have travelled too far without being noticed."

"Exactly," Peter agreed. "And he didn't look too exhausted. He couldn't have been walking for more than a couple of hours."

Peter drew a circle around the X with a five-mile radius. "This should cover the area he could have reasonably reached on foot."

Jessica pointed at the map. "We should look for abandoned buildings, basements, or any place that could have underground facilities within this radius."

Peter nodded, focusing on the map. "The bottom of his gown was filthy, indicating he was underground. So we're looking for places with underground access."

Peter and Jessica began marking potential locations on the map. Peter paused, considering the situation carefully. "Empire Industries has significant land in this area," he said, tapping the map. "That can't be a coincidence."

Jessica nodded, understanding the implication. "We need to find out the specifics of their properties."

Peter frowned, thinking through the logistics. "We'd need to get the blueprints from Town Hall. But they won't just hand them over to us."

Jessica smirked, her eyes glinting with determination. "Good thing Spider-Man doesn't need to ask for permission."

MJ looked up from the map, curiosity etched on her face. "What's Empire Industries?"

Peter and Jessica exchanged a glance before Peter began, "On the surface, Empire Industries is a large conglomerate. They're involved in everything from real estate to technology."

Jessica added, "But there are things that don't add up. They've been accused of some shady dealings, like selling weapons to foreign countries. It's all hush-hush, but the rumours are persistent."

MJ nodded, absorbing the information. "Why do we need the building blueprints?"

Peter explained, "The blueprints will show us how many levels the building has and if there are any basement levels. It's crucial to find out if they might be hiding something underground."

MJ looked uncertain. "What if there's nothing there?"

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've hit a dead end looking for the kids. I'll take any lead I can get."

Jessica stood up, eager to get going. "Let's go."

Peter nodded, heading to grab his backpack. He cursed under his breath as he realized it contained his burned and ruined suit. "I'm out of web fluid."

Jessica replied, "You still have all your chemicals at the warehouse."

Peter looked at her, surprised. "You didn't get rid of them?"

She shook her head. "It's your warehouse, Peter. I just stay there."

Peter nodded, getting dressed and swinging his backpack over his shoulder. He turned to MJ. "I'll see you later."

"Be careful," MJ said, watching them leave.

...

Peter and Jessica walked through the rough neighbourhood, the dilapidated buildings and graffiti-covered walls a stark reminder of the city's darker side. Peter paused several times, handing money to homeless people huddled in doorways and alleys.

Jessica looked at him sceptically. "You know they'll probably just spend it on drugs."

Peter shook his head. "They won't."

She raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"

Peter tapped his nose. "I can smell the drugs in their system. The ones I'm helping actually want food."

Jessica sighed. "It's not your responsibility to help them. They put themselves in this situation."

Peter stopped and looked around. "Isn't it?" He gestured to the run-down surroundings. "How can I call myself a hero and not do anything to help them?"

"How can you help them? It's not like you have Stark money," Jessica replied. "I don't think working in a pawnshop will cut it."

Peter rubbed his eyes, still tired and aching from his injuries. "You're right, I do need money. But I'll figure something out after we find the kids. That's more important now."

They continued walking until they reached the bus stop. The ride was quiet, each lost in their thoughts. The bus jostled them through the city, the view outside changing from the urban decay of the neighbourhood to Brooklyn where the junkyard lay. After getting off the bus, they walked through the scrapyard, the scent of rust and oil heavy in the air. Piles of old cars and twisted metal surrounded them as they made their way to the warehouse.

Peter walked inside the warehouse, heading straight to his makeshift lab area. Jessica went to the small, beat-up fridge and pulled out a beer. "Want one?" she asked, flicking the cap off with her thumb.

"I'm 14, Jess," Peter responded without looking up from his work.

Jessica shrugged and lounged on the sofa, turning on the TV and taking a swig from the bottle. She surfed through the channels aimlessly while Peter focused on his task.

He retrieved his old notebook, its pages filled with scribbles and formulas, and started making adjustments to his web formula. He murmured to himself, contemplating how to make his webbing flameproof. "Maybe a boron compound... and aluminium trihydrate," he muttered, writing down the additions in his notebook. Peter didn't have any of those chemicals at the moment, but he made a note for future reference.

As the formula mixed, Peter brought his suit out of the bag and placed it on the table. Seeing it so damaged hurt a little, but he was determined to fix it. The logical part of his mind told him to improve it, to make additions that would make it more resilient. Yet, he was reluctant. This suit felt like the only memory of Gwen he had left, and changing it felt like letting go of her.

He gently ran his fingers over the scorched and torn fabric, remembering the times they'd spent together, the plans they'd made. Sighing, he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand.

Peter worked diligently, focused on repairing his suit and adjusting his web formula. As he reached for a tool, something under the table caught his eye. His eyes widened in recognition.

"Why didn't you throw this out?" Peter asked, pulling out a small, dusty drone.

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Why would I?"

The drone was a side project he and Ned had started, designed for search and rescue. Peter placed it on the table, blowing off the dust. It was shaped like a spider, equipped with powerful propellers, gas-fueled thrusters, and a camera capable of capturing infrared and night vision. He chuckled, remembering how they had gone all out on this project using money he had taken from gangs.

Taking it apart, Peter hooked the drone up to his computer. The hardware was top-notch, but the AI running it was rudimentary. "I should be able to make a more advanced AI to run the drone, but I'd need a better processing unit," Peter hummed. He considered various ways to see through the drone's camera, discarding the idea of a wrist-mounted screen in favour of a possible LED screen on his mask's eyes. It would be tricky to craft, but doable.

"All things to think about later," he muttered, focusing back on finishing the web formula.

Meanwhile, Jessica flicked through TV channels, stopping at the news. The screen showed Tony Stark being saved from a terrorist group. The footage cuts to Stark on stage, announcing Stark Industries' departure from weapon development. The crowd went wild, and his advisor quickly led him offstage. The news reporter commented on Stark Industries' plummeting stocks since Tony's disappearance, noting that the move away from weapons wasn't helping.

Jessica chuckled. "Trouble in paradise."

"It won't be for long," Peter commented.

"How so?" Jessica asked.

"Tony Stark is a genius. Whatever he comes up with next is sure to make their stocks surge again," Peter explained.

"Sounds like a good investment," Jessica said, taking another swig.

Peter paused, then slowly said, "Yeah, it would..." He turned to the computer and brought up the stock market. The news reporter was right; Stark Industries' stocks had taken a huge dive. Peter smirked, creating a program to buy up stocks once they plateaued. He had around $5,000 in an account from his wages and selling fixed items.

He paused again, opening TOR and logging into an offshore account with $105,000—money he'd stolen from gangs. He had always planned to donate it to charity, but a voice in his head made him hesitate. 'What if Uncle Ben got sick again, or Aunt May?'

'Would it be unethical to invest this money?' he thought. Yeah, but if he did, he could do some good with it. Peter decided to invest it, feeling bad about it but hoping it would pay off. Soon, he'd have $105,000 worth of shares in Stark Industries at rock-bottom prices.

———————————————————-

Max sat on his bed, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Tears dripped onto his knees, mingling with the bruises from another beating by his father. He tried to suppress the sobs, but they escaped despite his efforts. Catching sight of his reflection, he saw the dark bruises marring his ribs and face. Next to the mirror, taped to the wooden frame, was a picture of Spider-Man he'd taken. Max forced a smile, trying to push down the physical and mental pain.

"Don't worry about me, Spider-Man. I can handle this. You can count on me," he whispered to himself.

Determined, he stood up, but pain shot through him, causing him to cry out as he fell back onto the bed. He dragged himself up and made his way to the detective board he'd created to help Spider-Man. Each significant incident was noted, especially those linked to Tombstone's old gang. Max had even hacked into the police database to find out where Tombstone's old base was.

What puzzled Max was the pattern of these incidents. Explosions and fires erupted everywhere except midtown, as if they were herding Spider-Man away from that area. The recent event with the boy who had fire abilities in midtown didn't fit the profile of gang-related activities.

Rubbing his chin, Max's eyes widened with realization. He moved to a separate board detailing the still-missing children. Sitting down at his laptop, he accessed the police database again. There was no mortuary report, but the incident report included a photo of the boy, and it matched Ethan Welles.

"Midtown must be where the missing children are being kept... I have to tell Spider-Man!" Max muttered, his resolve strengthening despite the pain.

Max realized he had no way of contacting Spider-Man and that it might be too late if he just tried to get his attention the usual way. He looked at the picture of Spider-Man taped to his mirror, asking himself what Spider-Man would do in this situation.

Suddenly, it felt as if the picture was whispering to him. "You know what to do, Max. This city needs more people like you."

Max's eyes widened with a mix of determination and fear. He smiled, the pain in his body momentarily forgotten. "You're right," he whispered to the picture, feeling a newfound resolve. He stood up, his body protesting with every movement, but his mind was clear. He had to act, and he had to do it now. The city needed him, and he wouldn't let Spider-Man down.

———————————————————

Peter swung through the night air of New York, the wind whipping against his face as he navigated between the towering buildings. He shot a web to a nearby skyscraper, pulling himself forward before releasing it and flipping mid-air. Another web followed, latching onto a building's edge. Peter used the momentum to propel himself higher, soaring above the streets below. He felt a little uneasy about heading to the Town Hall alone, not cause he was scared, but cause he'd not woken up Jessica to come with him. 'I'll definitely be paying for that,' he thought to himself.

As he neared Town Hall, he adjusted his swing, aiming for the rooftop. His web latched onto a flagpole, and he swung around, landing lightly on the roof. Peter scanned the area before moving to a vent on the roof. He unscrewed the cover and slipped inside, careful to replace it quietly.

Inside the vents, Peter crawled silently, pausing at intersections to listen for any nearby security guards. The ducts were cramped, but he manoeuvred through them with practised ease. He reached a grate above a dimly lit hallway and peered through, spotting a guard making his rounds. Waiting until the guard turned the corner, Peter pushed the grate aside and dropped silently to the floor.

He kept close to the walls, moving quickly and quietly through the building. Each turn was deliberate, every step cautious. He avoided cameras by sticking to the shadows, using his enhanced senses to stay alert to any movement. Finally, he reached the records room. Picking the lock, he slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

Peter moved to the filing cabinets and began searching through them, looking for the files on Empire Industries' properties in Midtown. It took a few minutes, but he found what he was looking for. Peter found the file labelled "Empire Industries" and opened it, eager to discover the secrets within. Just as he began to read, his spider-sense tingled, and he looked up, his eyes zeroing in on the dark corner of the room.

"So that's how it works," a voice said from the shadows. "When we last met, you were greener than anyone I'd ever fought. Without your powers, you'd be dead in less than a second. But the way you could dodge and avoid my traps... You have a special sort of instinct, don't you?"

Taskmaster stepped out of the darkness, his mask reflecting the dim light. "You didn't sense me when you came in, but when I leaked out some killing intent, you looked straight at me. Fascinating."

"Taskmaster," Peter said, his eyes narrowing. "I've been looking for you."

"Did you like the gifts I left around town for you?" Taskmaster asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I've had better," Peter shot back. "What brings you to Town Hall this time of night? Looking for a new library card?"

"The boss has had enough of you digging around. Normally, I like a little more time to prepare, but it seems I'm on a time limit. But first... give me the file," Taskmaster demanded.

Peter held the file tighter. "I guess I'm on the right track then. Empire Industries is the one experimenting on these children. Why not just get rid of these files?"

"They didn't think you'd make it this far," Taskmaster replied, shrugging.

Peter tapped his chin, pretending to ponder. "So you don't work for Kingpin, he's just a business partner, trafficking the children. I guess I'll have to deal with him when I'm done with you."

Taskmaster laughed, a cold, hollow sound. "I don't work for anyone; I'm a mercenary, merely protecting an investment. Now give me the file."

Peter smirked. "Sounds like I just need to read this and I'll have my answers."

"Very true, but I think you might find that harder than you think," Taskmaster said before pressing a button on his wrist.

Peter's spider-sense flared again, and he jumped into the air just in time to avoid a buckshot that exploded behind him. His spider-sense went off again, and he tried to zip away, but a mine detonated, sending him crashing through the records room wall and into the corridor. Taskmaster followed, his steps unhurried.

"There's a time delay between your senses' ability to detect separate threats," Taskmaster observed, drawing his pistol and firing at Peter. Peter dodged, but a few bullets grazed him.

"You're sluggish. Feeling tired?" Taskmaster mocked, tossing a grenade. Peter leapt to avoid it, but Taskmaster shot the grenade mid-air, the explosion hurling Peter against another wall.

Peter pushed himself up from the floor, clutching the files tightly to ensure they weren't damaged. His senses buzzed, making him look up at Taskmaster, who stood ready with a shield in his hand. "I've been doing this a long time. You can't win, Spider," Taskmaster taunted.

Peter smirked. "I don't need to win; I just need to read this file," he replied. Taskmaster's fists tightened, and Peter felt his spider-sense flare. An instant later, Taskmaster threw his shield straight at Peter, who fired a web at the ceiling and pulled himself out of the way. Midair, he twisted, dodging bullets Taskmaster fired. Peter shot a web at a nearby plant pot, swinging it at Taskmaster, who backhanded it away effortlessly.

Taskmaster charged at Peter, launching a front kick that Peter caught. However, Taskmaster used the momentum to jump up and kick Peter in the face with his other foot, then pointed his gun and fired several bullets. Peter ducked and dodged, but the barrage forced him back.

Small bombs rolled toward Peter, and he shot a web to the end of the hallway, pulling himself out of the way just as they exploded, tossing him across the floor. He activated his camouflage before the smoke cleared and began sneaking down the corridor.

Taskmaster frowned when he didn't see him, then clicked a button on his helmet to switch to thermal vision. He smirked before picking up his shield and throwing it again down the hall. Peter, sensing it, backflipped over the shield but didn't anticipate its rebound. The shield hit him in the back, deactivating his camouflage.

"You're not even fighting back. Such a disappointment," Taskmaster sneered, drawing his sword.

Anger flared in Peter. He threw the file down the hallway before shooting a web at it, sticking it to the wall. "Let's go then," Peter said, charging at Taskmaster. He jumped and ran on the wall to avoid gunfire, then swung from the ceiling, kicking Taskmaster. Taskmaster blocked the kick with his shield but was still pushed back.

Taskmaster tried to draw his shield back, but Peter attached his foot to it, not letting go. Instead, he yanked it, causing Taskmaster to stumble forward into Peter's other foot, which connected with his face, sending him reeling.

Peter landed and pressed his attack, launching a flurry of punches and kicks. Taskmaster parried with his sword, but Peter's superior strength and speed began to show. Peter managed to land a venom blast to Taskmaster's side, causing the mercenary to grimace in pain.

Taskmaster retaliated with a swift uppercut, the hilt of his sword connecting with Peter's jaw. Peter stumbled back, tasting blood. Taskmaster followed up with a series of slashes that Peter barely managed to dodge, feeling the blade slice through his suit and graze his skin.

Peter shot a web at Taskmaster's sword, yanking it out of his hand and throwing it aside. Taskmaster quickly drew a combat knife, lunging at Peter. The two clashed, with Peter's fists meeting Taskmaster's blade. Blood sprayed as the knife found its mark on Peter's arm, but he ignored the pain, delivering a powerful punch to Taskmaster's chest.

The impact sent Taskmaster crashing into a nearby table, which shattered under the force. Taskmaster coughed, struggling to stand as Peter advanced. "You're tough, I'll give you that," Taskmaster wheezed, wiping blood from his mouth.

"Thanks, I get that a lot," Peter quipped, launching himself at Taskmaster again. They grappled, trading blows in a brutal, close-quarters fight. Peter's fists were a blur, each punch echoing through the hallway. Taskmaster's knife slashed across Peter's chest, drawing deep, painful gashes.

Peter's spider-sense flared as Taskmaster reached for another grenade. Peter grabbed Taskmaster's wrist, twisting it until the grenade fell to the floor. Taskmaster headbutted Peter, the sharp pain stunning him for a moment. Taskmaster took advantage, kneeing Peter in the gut and throwing him against the wall.

Peter's vision blurred, but he forced himself to focus. Taskmaster closed in, but Peter shot a web at his face, blinding him temporarily. With a surge of adrenaline, Peter launched a venom blast directly at Taskmaster's chest, sending him flying through another wall.

Taskmaster groaned, struggling to his feet. Peter didn't give him a chance to recover, charging forward and delivering a powerful kick that sent Taskmaster sprawling. Peter grabbed the shield, using it to block Taskmaster's knife before bashing him with it.

Taskmaster tried to roll away, but Peter was relentless. He pinned Taskmaster down, delivering punch after punch, blood splattering with each hit. Taskmaster's helmet cracked, and Peter ripped it off, revealing a bruised and bloodied face.

Peter panted, his body aching from the fight. "Give up. It's over," he said, his voice hoarse.

Taskmaster laughed, a pained, gurgling sound. "Not yet," he whispered, pulling a hidden knife from his boot and stabbing Peter in the side. Peter felt his senses blare but it was too late to move and a sharp pain as Taskmaster's knife lodged into his side. With a swift throw, Taskmaster tossed Peter off him and stood up, clearly annoyed at the young hero and the increasing difficulty of the fight.

Peter drew the knife from his side, feeling the sting of the wound. Taskmaster was dangerous and incredibly intelligent, exploiting the slight delay between Peter's spider-sense registering threats and his ability to react. Peter felt sluggish, as if moving through water. 'Maybe it's time for a tactical retreat,' he thought to himself.

He glanced at Taskmaster, who gave him a venomous glare before camouflaging and running out of the room. Taskmaster followed, firing bullets at Peter, who managed to dodge most of them. Peter grabbed the file and used his webs to propel himself toward the exit faster. Taskmaster, raging, followed closely. Peter got outside and swung into the air, launching himself high above the city. He hadn't anticipated Taskmaster's ability to follow him, but the mercenary had a thruster pack, which he used to slam into Peter midair.

The impact knocked the wind out of Peter, but he quickly recovered, grappling with Taskmaster as they plummeted through the sky. The file slipped from Peter's grasp, falling toward the city below. Peter shot a web to catch it, yanking it back toward him as Taskmaster swung a punch at his face. Peter twisted, avoiding the blow, and delivered a venom blast to Taskmaster's side.

Taskmaster grunted in pain but didn't relent. He used the thruster pack to manoeuvre, launching himself back at Peter. They clashed again, trading blows in midair. Peter fired webs at Taskmaster, attempting to bind his arms, but Taskmaster used his sword to cut through them with precision.

Peter grabbed the file with one hand while blocking Taskmaster's strikes with the other. Taskmaster's thruster pack gave him an edge in mobility, allowing him to stay on Peter despite the hero's agility. Peter swung around a nearby chimney, using the momentum to deliver a powerful kick to Taskmaster's chest, sending him spinning.

They crashed into a large moving truck, the impact denting the roof. Taskmaster rolled and came up on one knee, a combat knife already in hand. Peter scrambled to his feet, eyes locked on Taskmaster. Taskmaster lunged, slashing with the knife. Peter ducked, feeling the blade whistle past his ear. He countered with a quick jab to Taskmaster's ribs, but Taskmaster twisted away, using the momentum to deliver a spinning kick to Peter's chest, sending him stumbling back.

Peter regained his balance and shot a web at Taskmaster's knife, yanking it out of his hand. Taskmaster quickly drew another knife from his belt, slashing at Peter's face. Peter backflipped, avoiding the strike, then fired a web at Taskmaster's chest, pulling him off his feet. Taskmaster landed hard but rolled with the fall, coming up in a crouch with his knife at the ready.

Peter charged, throwing a series of punches. Taskmaster parried with the knife, slashing Peter's arm and drawing blood. Peter winced but didn't let up. He ducked low, sweeping Taskmaster's legs out from under him. Taskmaster fell hard on his back, but he kicked up, catching Peter in the chin and sending him reeling.

Taskmaster sprang to his feet and hurled a knife at Peter, who twisted out of the way, but the blade nicked his shoulder. Peter winced and fired a web at the truck's edge, using it to swing around and deliver a powerful kick to Taskmaster's side. Taskmaster grunted and stumbled but retaliated with a knife slash that cut Peter's thigh.

Peter staggered, pain shooting through his leg. Taskmaster pressed the advantage, raining down slashes with his knife. Peter dodged and weaved, blocking with his forearms, but the blades still found their mark, leaving a trail of cuts. Peter saw an opening and shot a web at Taskmaster's wrist, pulling him off balance and delivering a solid punch to his gut.

Taskmaster coughed, doubling over. Peter followed up with a knee to Taskmaster's face, sending him crashing into the truck's roof. Taskmaster rolled and threw a knife as he got up, catching Peter in the side. Peter gasped, the pain making him falter. Taskmaster took the chance and kicked Peter off the truck.

Peter tumbled through the air but managed to shoot a web at a streetlamp, swinging back around and landing on the truck just as Taskmaster grabbed the file. Peter hit the roof hard, then launched himself at Taskmaster, kicking him square in the chest and sending the file flying. Taskmaster gritted his teeth, drawing another knife and lunging at Peter. Peter caught the file with one hand and Taskmaster's wrist with the other, twisting it and forcing him to drop the knife. He then headbutted Taskmaster, stunning him. Taskmaster, recovering quickly, kicked Peter's knee, making him buckle. Peter responded with a punch to Taskmaster's jaw, followed by a venom blast that sent Taskmaster tumbling down the truck and falling off into the street.

"Better luck next time!" Peter shouted from the truck as Taskmaster tried to get up but was slammed into by numerous cars. His thruster pack was damaged by the collisions and he could no longer follow after Peter.

Peter catapulted himself off the truck swinging away and disappearing as he camouflaged himself. He wouldn't take any chances of being followed.

(AN: So Peter has met Taskmaster again, their fight a lot more even now as Taskmaster had basically been softening him up for a while with various traps around the city kinda like what Toji did to Gojo. Taskmaster beat Miles Morales before so it's not that weird he could beat Peter despite being peak human. Anyway I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)

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