Hero Ranking Meets Ghost Hunting
Ghost Spider wasn't a joke anymore.
She wasn't a whisper in alleyways. She wasn't a blurry video on the net. She was a trending name.
And the higher-ups were tired of it.
At a sleek penthouse in downtown Chicago, Hero Commissioner Owen paced a glass floor as footage of Ghost Spider played on loop—saving people, escaping traps, humiliating officers.
Across from him stood Hero No. 7: Torque, the speed-based kinetic manipulator. Known for tracking down rogue Quirk-users at record speeds.
"She's not dangerous," Lattice argued over the speaker call. "She's reckless, not evil."
Owen didn't flinch. "We're not waiting until she makes a mistake that kills someone. She's too fast. Too smart. And we don't know what she wants."
Torque cracked his knuckles. "I can catch her."
"You'd better."
At home, Gwen scrolled through her spider-sense-enhanced city map, which now included facial recognition pings. One new file had her gut twisting:
Torque sighted near 3rd District.
"What the hell?" she whispered. "A top ten hero... for me?"
She stood, pacing. This was different. Lattice was clever. But Torque was relentless.
And unlike the cops, he'd fight her if she didn't back down.
She double-checked her routes, mapped fallback positions, and reviewed her latest suit upgrades. More padding. Better launch coils. Smoke dispersers, too.
If this became a real fight, she'd need every edge she could get.
"Well, best not to leave him waiting. That'd be rude after they did all this" She says aloud with a wry smile, still amazed that they went through the trouble to get a top ten hero to hunt her.
It started simple: Gwen, mid-swing escorting a wounded civilian off a rooftop after a stray Quirk fight left debris collapsing. A hero never came—so she did.
Then she felt it.
The air shifted.
Wind pressure. Vibration.
She ducked just as Torque blurred past her, his body glowing with kinetic shimmer.
"Ghost Spider," he called out mid-spin, landing behind her with perfect grace. "You're a hard one to pin down."
She flipped backward, webbed the nearest pipe, and launched away. Torque followed instantly.
Through alleyways, up construction scaffolds, across neon-lit rooftops—they clashed like thunder. Gwen's instincts were sharp, but Torque's movements bent physics.
He cut her off on a crane. "Why do you run if you're trying to help?!"
"Because people like you only believe in licensed help!" Gwen snapped, vaulting over him.
He hesitated.
It gave her time to web-sprint across a power line and dive between two buildings.
Torque snarled. "You're endangering lives!"
"I'm saving them! You just don't like that I'm doing it without permission."
Torque changed tactics.
Instead of chasing, he started predicting.
He placed motion sensors across rooftops, baited traps with false emergencies, and coordinated with drones from the Hero Commission.
And Gwen? She adapted.
She developed cloaking devices to disrupt sensors. Used coded graffiti to warn herself of monitored areas. Modified old street lamps to scramble facial recognition.
Every night became a chess match.
Sometimes they crossed paths—briefly.
Sometimes she ghosted him without a trace.
Once, he nearly caught her on a train bridge. She jumped. Swung beneath it. Laughed as she vanished into the dark.
Torque screamed into the void, fists trembling.
"She's mocking me!"
"Maybe," Owen replied. "Or maybe she's smarter than we gave her credit for."
By dawn, social media was ablaze with blurry clips of their chase.
#GhostVsTorque trended.
Public opinion split wide:
"Ghost Spider saved my aunt. She's more of a hero than the top ten!"
"She's putting herself AND others in danger. Vigilantes always escalate."
"Torque couldn't catch her?? Yo, she's LEGIT."
More videos emerged. A bank robbery thwarted. A runaway bus stopped. A burning building evacuated.
In every clip, the white-and-gray figure blurred past. Never lingering.
Never asking for thanks.
One Last Trap
Torque had had enough.
He arranged a large-scale sting: fake distress signals in three districts. Hidden drones. Hero backup on standby. The works.
And Gwen… she took the bait.
At first.
She arrived at the decoy warehouse, mask scanning. No civilians. No signals.
Then she saw it—one of the drones pulsed with a signal she recognized. One of hers.
"You stole my code," she muttered.
Torque zipped in from the rafters. "I learned. From the best."
They clashed again.
This time, harder. He was more serious. She was more desperate.
He cornered her in the rafters.
"You don't have to run. We could work together. You've got brains."
Gwen stared at him.
"I already work with someone."
"Who?"
She leapt backward, firing a web straight at a fuel canister.
BOOM. Smoke engulfed the room.
She vanished into the haze.
Torque coughed, stumbling.
And found a sticker on his boot.
A spider logo.
And beneath it:
You're improving.
Gwen's Reflection
Later that night, bruised and sore, Gwen lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
"They sent a top ten after me."
She should've felt scared.
But all she felt was clarity.
"If I can hold my own against him... then maybe I'm not just a kid with powers. Maybe I'm a symbol too."
Her bruises throbbed, her limbs ached.
But she smiled.
Because now she knew.
Ghost Spider wasn't just surviving anymore.
She was winning.