[Third person POV]
Aria appeared high above the clouds, where the world below had already been swallowed by night. The stars shimmered faintly in the distance, twinkling beyond the dense layers of atmosphere. Her violet hair whipped dramatically behind her, flaring like a silk banner in the fierce wind, while the hem of her dress billowed wildly around her legs. The freezing air that would have numbed any ordinary person didn't faze her in the slightest, her unique biology rendering her immune to the effects of extreme cold.
With a swift, fluid motion, Aria waved a hand across her face. In response, a sleek, full-face mask materialized over her features, its design smooth and seamless, yet still allowing the purple gem embedded in her forehead to gleam through with a soft luminescence. She continued downward, running her hands over her body as her frilly, innocent-looking dress shimmered and morphed. In its place formed her sleek spider-themed combat outfit—deep purple with intricate black weblines.
"Concealing myself now. I'm about to head in," Aria reported calmly, her voice steady and focused. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as her gem pulsed softly. It shimmered briefly before its glow began to fade, dimming until it became no more than a shadow of light. Her presence vanished—her energy signature erased.
Without warning, Aria leaned back and fell into a controlled dive. She spread her arms wide, her body cutting cleanly through a thick, storm-black cloud. A trail of vapor clung to her figure as she descended, and raindrops whipped around her relentlessly. Thunder rumbled across the skies, and bolts of lightning forked overhead with violent brilliance. She fell upside down, letting gravity do the work, her expression calm, collected, almost serene as she passed through the storm.
Narrowing her glowing eyes, Aria focused on a distant object below. Through the curtains of rain, she spotted it: the aircraft that had earlier picked up Betty and Bruce was now hovering above the ground, having arrived at its destination. As she zoomed in with her vision, she could see Betty carefully carrying Bruce's unconscious body into the dark facility.
Aria continued her free fall, gaining speed with each passing second. The ground rushed toward her like a blur, yet her face remained composed—unbothered.
Just before impact, her eyes shut again. Instead of crashing into the earth, she phased through it completely. A ripple of faint purple energy pulsed outward from the point of entry as the ground accepted her like water.
---
"I just want to make something clear," Gwen said, casting an amused glance Peter's way as they watched the surveillance feed, "She definitely gets her dramatic showmanship from you."
Peter simply puffed out his chest with pride, a smug smirk curling at his lips. "No one ever doubted that for even a second."
Small chuckles echoed throughout the monitoring room as the team continued watching the live footage.
---
Aria swam silently through solid rock and metal like a predator in deep water. Her body moved smoothly, unimpeded by the terrain as she phased seamlessly through matter, navigating like a shark.
Deep within the base's central structure, a ripple appeared across the metallic floor of a corridor. From that subtle shimmer, Aria's masked head emerged slowly, eyes surveying the scene with razor-sharp focus. Before her, a group of mind-controlled soldiers marched down the hallway with weapons drawn, unaware of her creeping beneath them.
Aria started climbed along the walls and ceiling, her movements fluid and eerily graceful. She clung like a spider—silent, quick, and precise. Concentrating, she adjusted her energy field, matching the unique psychic signature of the Leader. This allowed her to mask herself entirely—not only from security systems and sensors but from any psionic detection as well.
Aria positioned herself directly above one of the soldiers. Her eyes glowed faintly with power as she extended a hand and floated down. Gently, she tapped the nape of the soldier's neck. With that single touch, she injected a thread of psychic energy—a toxin of sorts—that slowly began unraveling the Leader's influence from the inside out.
She wove a careful illusion through the Leader's like, making him think he was still held control. In reality, she had severed the connection entirely. One by one, she repeated the process, taking care to leave a post-hypnotic suggestion: when their tasks were complete, they would quietly exit the base.
Minutes passed. Aria never rushed. Her rhythm was slow, calculated, almost mechanical in its perfection. Each touch was deliberate. Each soldier, a piece on the board being reclaimed.
Floating from the ceiling to the floor below, she phased through layers of infrastructure undetected. No camera, sensor, or psychic pulse noticed her passing. Her efficiency was almost supernatural.
"Dun, dun, dun, dun… Dun-dun, dun-dun, dun, dun," Aria hummed internally as she played the iconic Mission Impossible theme on a private audio channel, overlaying it on her stealth recording—just for Peter and the others to hear.
---
Back in the surveillance room, jaws dropped.
"Is… is she seriously playing the Mission Impossible theme during her infiltration?" Harry asked, equal parts stunned and amused.
Peter burst into laughter, unable to contain himself and started patting the table.
"I gotta say, it's pretty appropriate given the situation," Felicia added, snickering behind her hand.
Lizzy shook her head with a grin, then turned toward Peter and gave him a teasing look. "She really is your daughter."
Peter was still chuckling as he pushed himself up from the conference table, stretching slightly as he did so. "Alright, people. Let's get moving and start prepping. Honestly, the hardest part is practically already behind us. Once Aria finishes her sweep, we'll teleport in and take down the unripe papaya."
There was a beat of silence.
Gwen blinked at him. "Papaya? Seriously? That was what you came up with?" she asked, a short laugh escaping her.
Peter groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose dramatically. "I am mentally exhausted, okay? Cut me some slack. I don't see you coming up with any better fruit metaphors under stress." He pouted childishly, his shoulders slumping as he turned his head away.
"Looks more like a giant green dildo to me..."
Everyone froze. Slowly, as if on cue, the entire group turned to look at Felicia.
She simply shrugged under their collective gaze. "What?" she said flatly, her tone completely devoid of shame. "It's true…"
MJ cleared her throat loudly, eager to steer the conversation away from the rapidly derailing path it had taken. "Aaaand moving on…" she said quickly. Everyone nodded, silently grateful for the change in topic.
But before MJ could continue, a new voice cut through the air—Aria's voice, crackling softly through the communication feed.
"Uh… guys? You need to see this."
---
Inside the enemy facility...
Aria was upside-down, crawling along the ceiling like a shadow with limbs. Her movements were silent, deliberate, and unnervingly graceful. She had just maneuvered into a new chamber when she came to a sudden stop, her glowing eyes narrowing as they locked onto a sight below.
An array of strange machines filled the space beneath her. They were sleek, mechanical arms arranged along a conveyor system, assembling humanoid figures in rapid succession. What caught her attention most, however, was the odd material being used—thick, glossy, pinkish rubber.
She paused briefly, then closed her eyes as her internal systems scanned the materials.
"Hmm… Composition confirmed," she muttered, more to herself than to the team. "They're made from a specially synthesized rubber. Shock-resistant… durable enough to withstand serious damage. Possibly even hits from someone like the Hulk."
Her expression darkened slightly as her analysis continued. "There's also a meshed alloy underneath the rubber layer. It's designed to resist electromagnetic pulses. These aren't just defense units. These are practically war machines."
She moved silently, phasing through a wall into another production zone. There, military-grade weapons were being assembled—missile pods, particle rifles, even containment field generators. Aria's internal database recorded and tagged every piece of data as she swept through.
Then she reached a heavily guarded chamber—the heart of the base. She phased through the ceiling silently and entered the room. Inside, she found the Leader mid-sentence, pacing in front of a restrained Bruce Banner who sat bound to a reinforced chair.
The Leader's voice echoed coldly in the room. "—The real treasure isn't you, Banner. It never was. The Hulk—that is the future. That is evolution. You? You're just the vessel. Disposable. Replaceable."
Aria kept crawling, her presence still masked, but as she looked up to reposition herself… she froze. Her breath hitched.
Staring ahead, eyes wide, Aria's voice came through the comms again—quiet, shaken, and stunned.
"A-Are you guys seeing this too?"
---
Back in the surveillance room...
Everyone had risen to their feet, the mood turning instantly tense. Faces turned pale as Aria's live feed displayed the room from her POV.
In the center of the chamber stood three large containment cylinders—two filled with a different figures, one empty.
One of them held a massive red figure. Even unconscious, his rage was almost tangible, his features twisted into a snarl as if his fury existed independently of his mind.
"A Red Hulk… Oh God" MJ whispered, barely able to get the words out.
In the second container was She-Hulk—her body restrained and unconscious, her vital signs barely stable.
But the third was what made Peter's stomach drop.
"Betty…" he breathed, his voice low and tight.
The camera focused on the label on the final cylinder: Subject: Betty Ross.
Peter didn't hesitate. His demeanor changed instantly, the humor gone, replaced by steely resolve.
"Aria," he said sharply, "Get out of there. Now."
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