The pale moon hung heavy in the sky, casting an eerie silver glow over the sleeping city of New York. Everything was calm. Too calm.
Peter Parker stood outside his aunt and uncle's house, staring up at the unusually large moon. It was beautiful, sure, but Peter had seen weirder. Much weirder.
"Kinda creepy," Peter muttered, glancing down at his makeshift costume. His hand-stitched hero suit clung awkwardly to his frame, every loose thread a reminder of how far he had to go.
"Better not to be seen in these pajamas," he sighed, pulling his hood tighter over his head. The world around him seemed to hold its breath, quietly judging his outfit.
"Beggers can't be choosers," he added with a shrug, launching himself into the night.
Unbeknownst to Peter, Uncle Ben had stirred from his sleep. He watched from the window, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Kids," Ben chuckled, grabbing his coat. "About time he started acting like a child again." Still, instincts honed by years of parenthood gnawed at him. Something didn't feel right. He decided to follow from a distance, climbing into his old car. As the engine sputtered to life, Blue Öyster Cult played softly from the radio. The music, oddly comforting, couldn't chase away the chill that crept up his spine.
In the city, Peter stalked a trio of criminals attempting to jimmy open the back door of a thriving electronics store. He crouched silently above them, hidden in the shadows.
"Hurry up, man!" one of them hissed, darting glances at the empty street. "We can't be out in the open like this!"
"I've got a bad feeling about this," another muttered, his hands trembling. The full moon wasn't helping his nerves.
At the door, a man with a Cajun accent sneered, annoyance clear in his voice. "Bah, curses. I am beset by fools and cowards."
His hands shimmered with a soft red-purple glow. With a quiet "Bang," the lock disintegrated, the explosion neatly contained.
"Any questions?" Gambit asked, turning to the others with a sardonic grin.
The two thugs exchanged uneasy looks.
"I thought he was picking the lock," one whispered. "What kinda freak did the boss hire?"
Gambit overheard. His smile tightened, and for a second, the thugs could swear his eyes flashed dangerously.
"Move out, fools," Gambit snapped. "We got money to make."
The group entered the building, oblivious to the red-and-blue silhouette slipping in silently from the roof.
Inside, Gambit and his men fanned out, rummaging through the store for valuables. At the manager's office, Gambit began charging the next lock with explosive energy. His skin prickled, instincts screaming at him to hurry.
He didn't notice his men had already been silently taken down, webbed up and squirming helplessly on the cold linoleum.
Without warning, twin strands of webbing shot from the ceiling, binding Gambit's wrists mid-charge.
"Webs?" Gambit snarled. "I hate webs!"
The charged energy sparked against the sticky fibers, but instead of exploding, the webs sizzled and disintegrated.
Purple rage burned in Gambit's eyes. He roared to the ceiling, "COME DOWN HERE AND FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN, COWARD!"
From above, Peter's voice rang out, full of that signature, annoying cheer.
"Don't suppose you could come up here and fight like a spider?"
Gambit could practically hear the smirk. His eye twitched.
"You wanna play a game, little spider?" Gambit hissed, producing a deck of playing cards from his jacket.
Peter tilted his head. "What, fifty-two pickup?" he quipped.
Gambit's breath hissed between clenched teeth. "Nooo... More like fifty-two F*CKUP!"
The cards ignited with glowing energy, hovering around Gambit like a deadly halo. Peter's Spider-Sense blared in warning.
Without hesitation, Gambit hurled a card at him. To Peter, it seemed slow, like an underhanded toss in a little league game.
"Oh, cool," Peter thought, briefly distracted. "Kinda like that movie with John Wick..."
By the time he snapped back to reality, the first card was dangerously close. He sprang to another beam, narrowly avoiding the explosion that obliterated his previous perch.
Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Focus, Peter," he muttered, dodging another blast. "You need to stay mobile."
Gambit wasn't letting up. "Forgot I can hear you, jackass!" he shouted, unleashing the rest of the charged deck.
Peter twisted and flipped through the store like a gymnast on caffeine, narrowly avoiding the rain of exploding cards.
From the chaos, Gambit emerged with a collapsible staff. He charged, twirling it overhead for a vicious downward swing meant to crush Peter into the floor.
Thinking fast, Peter fired webs on either side of Gambit and yanked himself forward, sliding low. His feet swept Gambit's legs clean out from under him.
"CRACK!"
"CRASH!"
The Cajun thief faceplanted into a shelf, sending merchandise flying. Momentum carried him through a window with a loud shatter.
Alarms blared, drowning the night in shrill panic.
Dazed but not beaten, Gambit snapped his fingers. A lone card, left behind on purpose, detonated with a deafening "BOOM!"
Peter barely had time to yelp before he was blasted backward through another window.
"AHHHHHHH!" he screamed, landing hard in an alley, clutching his ribs.
Inside, Gambit wasted no time. He cut his men free and ordered a quick escape. The three thugs fled in different directions, each hoping to curry extra favor with their boss by delivering the loot alone.
Peter slumped against the brick wall, panting.
"That's definitely a couple ribs," he groaned, gritting his teeth.
The moon hung directly overhead now, bathing the battered city in ghostly light.
Peter forced himself to stand, his body trembling from pain and adrenaline.
Suddenly, the night shattered with an inhuman roar.
"ROOOOOAAAARRRR!"
It wasn't just loud. It was primal, a furious, guttural scream that rattled windows and set off car alarms for blocks.
Peter's blood ran cold. His Spider-Sense screamed, louder and more urgent than ever before.
"This... this is different," he gasped, staring wide-eyed into the night. "Something's wrong."
Police sirens wailed in the distance. Lights flickered on across the city as thousands of people jolted awake in terror.
Peter shook off the fear, launching a web onto a nearby rooftop.
"I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered, swinging toward the source of the roar.
The night swallowed him whole as he disappeared into the city, chasing the unknown threat under the cold gaze of the full moon.