Field Alpha hummed with low power as Gwen adjusted her visor overlay. The map in front of her pulsed with live feeds from drone networks and hacked surveillance cams. One marker blinked red.
"Here," she said. "Abandoned railyard. Eight signatures. Heat profiles suggest weapons crates, reinforced vans, and at least two exterior drones."
Luffy leaned over her shoulder, chewing the last of a glucose cube. "Biggest hit yet."
"And the most guarded," Gwen replied. "But if we pull this off clean..."
"We go from rumor to legend."
They nodded together. Time to suit up.
Night cloaked the railyard in stillness.
Two guards stood at the eastern gate, barely alert. Floodlights illuminated rusted tracks and steel containers.
Then the lights flickered.
Gwen moved first.
From a tower above, she launched a precision web-dart — it struck a power box and surged, blacking out the grid.
Luffy sprinted through shadow, ducking between containers. His movements were soundless, a ghost molded by training and reflex.
A guard turned just in time to see a flash of movement before his weapon was knocked away and his feet tangled in webbing. He hit the ground with a muffled grunt.
Gwen dropped down behind the second, tapped his shoulder, and stunned him before he could blink.
They split wordlessly.
Gwen vaulted onto a cargo crate and crouched low as two more men emerged from a side door, carrying heavy cases. She waited for them to move into position, then triggered a silent web tripwire.
The first smuggler went down hard, case skidding into a stack of empty barrels. The second pulled a gun, but Gwen was already in motion, spinning over his shoulder and webbing his arms to his sides before yanking the weapon away.
She dropped behind a container, heart steady. Every second felt like choreography — precise, clean, silent.
Luffy, meanwhile, found another pair near the western access gate.
One spotted movement and yelled — too late. Luffy slingshotted in, using a heavy metal door as a launching point. He bounced once, twice, then slammed feet-first into the pair, knocking them into the mud. He restrained them quickly with webline cuffs Gwen had designed to self-tighten.
No alarms. No screams.
Just ghosts in the dark.
Inside the central container, four men loaded rifles into reinforced crates. One spoke quietly into a radio — then stopped, looking up.
A faint shimmer crossed the far wall.
Nothing.
Then a web shot zipped out, yanking the radio from his hand.
Before anyone could react, Luffy dropped in from above. He bounced between them like a blur, using only non-lethal takedowns — a sweep here, a redirect there. One punch caught him square in the ribs. He didn't even flinch.
"Don't bother," he said calmly. "I bounce back."
Gwen slid in low, dropping a disruptor pellet that short-circuited nearby electronics.
Ten seconds later, silence.
Crates unopened. All guards unconscious.
Perfect.
From the roof, Gwen reached into her belt and pulled out a small microburner.
"You sure about this?" Luffy asked.
"We've done enough hiding," she said.
She traced the burner carefully along the concrete, leaving behind a mark: a spider-symbol curled around a straw hat. Just big enough to be found.
Luffy looked at it for a long moment.
"We're making ourselves a target."
"We're making ourselves undeniable."
George Stacy arrived an hour later.
Most officers chalked it up to an interrupted deal. "Must've panicked and fled," someone said.
George didn't speak.
He circled the rooftop slowly. Then he saw it.
The mark.
He crouched, took a photo, and stared at it for several seconds. The wind picked up around him.
He didn't smile. But he didn't frown either.
He didn't share the symbol with anyone.
In his private journal, he wrote:
They're real. They're organized. And they're protecting this city. Alone.
Back at Field Alpha, Gwen slumped against the wall, mask half-off.
"That was the cleanest hit we've ever done."
"Not even wind left behind," Luffy joked, kicking off his boots.
They sat in silence for a moment, then Gwen stood and opened the Power Journal.
Final Log — Age 13
We've become more than shadows. We're a myth with a purpose.
The city doesn't see us. But it feels us.
And that's enough — for now.
Luffy leaned in and added:
And if we ever need to be seen… we'll decide when and how.
They closed the book and walked to the rooftop, watching as dawn painted the city gold.
A new day was coming.
But for now, they remained exactly where they were meant to be — in the silence, between the shadows.
Ready.
Together.