The Streets Get Louder
Gwen knew things were changing the moment she heard her name mentioned—her vigilante name.
"Ghost Spider," a news anchor said, voice cutting through the static of George's old television. "Dubbed by locals for her quick, web-slinging rescues. Some say she's a menace. Others claim she's a miracle. But one thing's for certain—she's not a licensed hero."
George blinked sleepily and turned the volume up. Gwen sat frozen at the kitchen table, spoon halfway to her mouth.
"She's just a kid," said a grainy bystander interview. "But she saved my son. I don't care what they say."
George grumbled. "They should leave that poor girl alone. Sounds like she's doing more than half the heroes these days."
Gwen's face flushed red. "...Yeah. Maybe."
But the word was out. Heroes were watching now. The police too.
A Tip-off
It came during one of her routine patrols—a text from her surveillance network. She'd rigged up motion sensors and open-source security cameras to ping her when something felt off.
[PING] -- Zone 7B: Heavy police presence detected. Pro Hero on scene. Possible trap.
She narrowed her eyes. 7B was her favorite alley to patrol—tight space, low visibility, multiple web anchor points. She trusted her instincts.
"They're hunting me now," she muttered.
The trap was obvious. Too many patrol cars. A flying hero overhead. A woman in green armor with retractable batons—Pro Hero: Lattice.
They were waiting for her.
The Escape Begins
She watched from the rooftop shadows, counting patrol rotations.
Five cops. Two detectives. Lattice pacing like a caged tiger.
She smiled behind her bulky paintball mask. Her old suit creaked slightly with every breath.
"Let's test their reflexes."
She swung down silently, left a fake decoy webbed to a wall—a crude dummy in a hoodie. Then she fired two quick webs to trip one of the searchlights and send sparks flying into the street.
CRASH.
"She's here! Move!"
The trap triggered instantly. Net launchers fired. Cops swarmed the dummy.
Lattice vaulted forward, her batons crackling with blue energy. "I see her!"
Too late. Gwen zipped through a narrow gap between two buildings and disappeared.
Rooftop Chase
Lattice was fast. Faster than Gwen expected. Her Quirk let her scale vertical surfaces using a matrix of energy pads.
She pursued Gwen across five rooftops, shouting commands into her comms.
"Suspect heading north! Five foot nothing, armored mask, spider-mobility!"
Thwip! Gwen shot a line to a water tower and swung out wide, twisting mid-air.
Lattice followed. Gwen could feel her presence gaining.
She cut her web mid-swing and dropped into a ventilation shaft.
BOOM. Lattice slammed into the side, swearing.
Gwen laughed.
A Hero's Dilemma
Gwen stopped atop an abandoned clock tower, panting, crouched behind the broken gears.
She looked out over the city.
"They're scared of me," she whispered. "I'm helping, but they see a threat. Because I don't have a license. Because I'm a kid. Because I'm not in their system."
She clenched her fists.
It wasn't about fame. It wasn't about praise.
It was about choice. About action.
She remembered the boy from the alley. The girl on the fire escape. The stolen purse. The two muggers she'd webbed to a bus stop the night before.
"If this is what being a menace means… I'm okay with it."
Meanwhile, at HQ
Detective Corbin slammed his file onto the desk. "You're telling me a nine-year-old outmaneuvered three squads and a Pro Hero?!"
"Yeah we just said that." Random officer.
"She's not confirmed to be a child," Lattice growled. "But she moves like one. Small frame. Unpredictable agility. And she's definitely tech-enhanced."
The commissioner raised an eyebrow. "You want to file a formal pursuit order?"
"If she keeps interfering, yes."
"We don't even know who she is."
Lattice crossed her arms. "Then it's time we find out."
Back in the Hideout
Gwen collapsed onto her bed, yanked off her helmet, and stared at the ceiling.
Another night survived.
Another step ahead.
But how long could she keep it up?
She reached for her tablet, opening the log files.
Zone 7B: Compromised. Zone 6C: Safe. Zone 8A: Infiltrated.
New note: Avoid patrols. Assume facial recognition. Upgrade suit again. Possibly misdirect with false leads.
She grinned, even as her muscles ached.
"Let's play their game."
Ghost Spider was here to stay.
Whether they liked it or not.