-MAY 2025-
Inside a high-security S.H.I.E.L.D. command center, Ghost Rider (Johnny Blaze), Spider-Man, Wolverine, and Hulk sit around a reinforced table. The air is thick with tension. Jimmy Woo stands at the front, arms crossed, frustration written all over his face.
Jimmy Woo: You two… (he points directly at Ghost Rider and Hulk) …what the fuck was that chaos you caused last January? Your fight lasted three no, one no, THREE MONTHS!?
He throws a folder across the table. It slides to a stop in front of Ghost Rider, full of satellite images, leveled buildings, and charred craters.
Jimmy Woo: Do you two even realize how many cleanups, interrogations, and cover-ups we had to do because of your nonsense? You set half a city on fire and the other half got stomped into gravel!
Ghost Rider shrugs coolly, leaning back in his chair.
Ghost Rider: Hey man, he rushed me.
Hulk growls.
Hulk: Hulk had no choice.
Spider-Man raises both hands like a mediator.
Spider-Man: Okay, okay Jim, you're starting to sound like a rebel leader right now, can we just—
Jimmy Woo whips around and glares at him.
Jimmy Woo: I was born a rebel, kid. Don't get it twisted.
The room falls silent. Wolverine lights a cigar and smirks.
Wolverine: This better be good.
Jimmy turns to the projector and slams a button. An image of The Flash flashes on-screen beaten, scarred, and restrained. Another image follows: Mister Sinister's lab, with blurred test subjects and surgical equipment.
Jimmy Woo: Let's get to the point. I don't like long speeches. On December 31st, 1999, I disappeared for 24 hours. No memory. Nothing. Recently, I found out I was abducted by Mister Sinister… for reasons still unclear blah blah blah!
He pulls up a digital blueprint of Sinister's current base, deep underground.
Jimmy Woo: That's why we're calling this mission OPERATION: 24 HOURS. We're taking it to Sinister. Tonight.
The lights flicker. The team stares silently at the screen.
Jimmy Woo: Suit up.
The room is tense as Jimmy Woo stands at the front, his usual composed demeanor faltering just slightly. Spider-Man, ever curious, leans forward with his trademark quirk.
Spider-Man: Okay, Jim, but seriously… why do you hate long speeches? Is it just a preference or is there, like, some tragic backstory I don't know about?
Jimmy Woo doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he lets the silence hang in the air. The room feels colder, and for a brief moment, everyone is unsure if they should push further. Then, with a shift in his posture, Jimmy's eyes darken, and the weight of a long-forgotten memory seems to settle over him.
Jimmy Woo: You wanna know why?
He doesn't wait for an answer. Slowly, he begins to speak, his voice lower than before.
Jimmy Woo: When I was the leader of the original Agents of Atlas, I gave speeches… (his voice is laced with a bitter edge) …endless speeches.
He shakes his head, staring down at the table as if replaying every moment in his mind. The others are quiet, listening intently, though Spider-Man can't help but feel a bit uneasy.
Jimmy Woo: Back then, it wasn't just about saving the world it was about keeping the team together, keeping them focused. Namora and Gorilla Man hell, even the others could never understand a word I was saying. I'd stand there, pouring my heart out, trying to inspire them, and they'd look at me like I was speaking a different language.
Spider-Man looks over to Wolverine, who raises an eyebrow, clearly aware of the tone in Jimmy's voice. Wolverine doesn't speak, though his usual smirk fades slightly, replaced by something more empathetic.
Jimmy Woo: It wasn't that I didn't try. I believed in the mission… but the longer I talked, the less they listened. Namora, with her pride, would just stare off into the distance. Gorilla Man would be yawning in the back like I was the biggest bore on the planet. I thought they'd never stop looking at me like I was some kind of war relic, trying to convince them of things that didn't make sense to them. They didn't get it. They didn't get me.
A dark cloud hangs over Jimmy Woo as he exhales sharply. It's a moment of vulnerability, something rare for the hardened S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He looks up now, his eyes hardening once more as he finishes his thought.
Jimmy Woo: So yeah, I hate long speeches. Because when I start talking too long, I remember that nobody's really listening. And that… never sat right with me.
The room is quiet for a long beat. Spider-Man, for once, doesn't crack a joke. Instead, he just nods, his usual playful demeanor tempered by the gravity of Jimmy's past.
Spider-Man: Got it. No long speeches. I can work with that.
Wolverine leans back, a rare respect in his eyes as he exhales smoke from his cigar.
Wolverine: Yeah, we get it. Let's just get this job done.
Jimmy Woo doesn't respond, but his gaze softens slightly. He looks at the team his team and for a brief moment, the man who once led the Agents of Atlas is no longer a commander giving orders. Instead, he's just a man who's been through too many battles, trying to make sure this one counts.
Jimmy Woo: Alright, let's move. Time's ticking.
The briefing room clears out as the team begins to prepare, but the weight of Jimmy Woo's past lingers in the air. The mission ahead would be dangerous but at least, for once, this team would listen.
The team walks through the cold steel halls of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base. The echo of boots fills the silence until Spider-Man suddenly sneezes under his mask.
Spider-Man: Achoo! Ugh… gross.
He sniffles and wipes the inside of his mask awkwardly.
Spider-Man: Why do I feel like Jimmy Woo's backstory... sounded a lot like Kingpin?
His voice trails off as a sudden flashback hits him
-FLASHBACK: Dimly Lit Warehouse – Years Ago-
Spider-Man is tied up, hanging from the ceiling, bloodied and bruised. The Sinister Six stands in the shadows like specters, silent, like they've already done their part.
From the far side of the room, Kingpin steps forward, adjusting his tie, towering and menacing.
Kingpin: When I was a boy…
Spider-Man, battered, groans.
Spider-Man: Oh god, please not the story again…
Kingpin paces slowly.
Kingpin: ...My father was a cruel man. Big hands. Rough voice. But he taught me that power… is not given. It is taken... I'm literally now a brainrot Spidey total villain mode
Spider-Man: What the fuck are you talking about!
Kingpin inhales like he's savoring his own narrative.
Kingpin: Shhh Shhh! Let me tell you my dirty secret with me and my Vanessa...
Spider-Man (Shouting): You haven't been dirty yet! Oh god Jesus! Please, someone hit me instead…
-FLASHBACK ENDS-
Back in the present, Spider-Man flinches a little.
Ghost Rider notices and snaps his fingers near Spider-Man's ear, a small flicker of hellfire dancing between his fingers.
Ghost Rider: You okay, web-head? You zoned out.
Spider-Man shakes his head slightly, regaining composure.
Spider-Man: Yeah… yeah, I'm fine. Just remembered something… mildly traumatic.
Ghost Rider gives him a knowing glance but says nothing.
Behind them, Wolverine grunts and Hulk stomps forward, oblivious to the strange moment.
Spider-Man (muttering under his breath): Note to self: never trust bald men who start stories with "When I was a boy…"