Kraven's chest heaved, each breath dragging like fire through his lungs. His massive frame trembled, sweat slicking down his scarred muscles. His claws curled and uncurled, animal instinct begging him to lunge again, but his body betrayed him.
(Tsk… looks like I'm going to reach my limit.)
His pupils dilated, fangs bared, but his stance faltered just enough for Peter to see it.
Spider-Man straightened, his own blood dripping from torn skin, bruises painting his ribs, yet his eyes never wavered. He saw the quiver in Kraven's arms, the uneven weight shifting in his legs.
"Kraven, your whole body's shaking. Just give up… you can't beat me."
Peter's voice wasn't mocking, it was steady, cold, carved by Punisher's training and hardened by years of scraping through street brawls.
Kraven laughed through bloodied teeth, his chest rising in ragged heaves. His voice was hoarse, almost animal, but laced with pride.
"Beat you? No… Spider… this is the hunt. The hunt doesn't end until the beast is dead or the hunter is."
He staggered forward, claws twitching, legs wobbling like a predator refusing to collapse even as its body tore itself apart.
Peter's fists clenched, his jaw tightening.
(He won't stop… even if his body breaks. He'd rather die on his feet than surrender.)
Their gazes locked one a symbol of survival born from rage and serum, the other a survivor forged in alleys, gangs, and the Punisher's brutal lessons.
The city's ruins seemed to close in around them, the crowd of rebels and Vipers holding their breath as predator and prey blurred into something else—two forces refusing to bow.
Spider-Man raised his guard again.
"Then I'll put you down before you kill yourself trying."
Kraven's grin widened, blood dripping down his chin. His body shook, but his spirit blazed.
"Good… show me, Spider… show me "
He lunged again, reckless, his claws carving the air. Peter slipped under the swipe, countering with a sharp jab to Kraven's jaw. The crack echoed, snapping his head sideways. Any normal man would've stayed down.
But Kraven staggered, roared, and swung back—a wild hook that clipped Peter across the temple and made stars burst in his vision.
(Even broken… he's still swinging. He's fighting on instinct now… pure will.)
Peter snapped a front kick into Kraven's gut, folding the hunter over. He followed with a hammerfist across the spine, driving him to one knee. Dust rose from the cracked pavement.
Kraven spat blood, then exploded upward like a cornered beast, ramming his shoulder into Peter's ribs. They both crashed into a derailed subway car, metal groaning under the impact.
"YES!" Kraven bellowed, half in agony, half in ecstasy. "Push me… break me… PROVE YOURSELF!"
Spider-Man ducked a desperate claw swipe, twisted, and drove a spinning back kick into Kraven's chest. The hunter was hurled against the car, the metal wall caving in around his body.
This time, Kraven didn't spring back instantly. He sagged, arms trembling, chest heaving like a man drowning on dry land.
(He's slowing down… every strike weaker, every breath heavier. He's at his limit now… and I can finish this.)
Peter's hands snapped out, shooters clicking. In a blur, thick layers of webbing fired, wrapping around Kraven's chest, arms, and legs. The hunter thrashed, muscles bulging, veins rising against his skin. For a moment, the webbing stretched as if it might snap.
But his body betrayed him. The tremors worsened. The fight bled out of his limbs.
Spider-Man yanked the webbing tight, slamming Kraven down to the cracked street.
(He's weak now… I can web him up. This hunt… is over.)
Kraven lay bound, still grinning through bloodied lips, his chest rising and falling like a caged animal.
"Good… Spider…" he rasped, eyes half-lidded but burning with stubborn fire. "Good…"
Spider-Man stood over him, chest heaving. The wind pushed grit through the ruined block, the sound of fire in the distance crackling like whispers of war.
Then—
"MASTER KRAVEN!!"
The shout tore across the street. The Vipers, his loyal soldiers, erupted from the shadows of the wreckage, raising rifles and spears modified with jagged tech. Their movements were sharp, desperate, fueled by loyalty to their fallen master.
Spider-Man spun, hands already twitching for more webbing, ready to leap,
But before the Vipers could fire, a storm of bullets and plasma cut them down.
The rebels emerged from the ruins, their silhouettes sharp against the flames. Harry Osborn led the charge, his rifle steady, his jaw set with grim fury.
Ganke Lee followed, scar across his face catching the firelight, barking orders with soldier's precision:
"Push them back! Don't let a single one flank!"
Quin moved like iron, her silver-braided hair swaying as she cleaved through a Viper with cold efficiency. "Stay tight Bitch!"
Robin laughed even in the chaos, his scarred cheek twisting into a grin as he dropped an enemy. "Damn, Spidey—you got style even when you're hogtying psychos!"
Trey and Arlo, the twin bruisers, barreled forward with cocky yells, fists and rifles cracking bone and metal alike. Milo, lanky and cybernetic, hung back just enough, eyes flicking with data as he called out enemy positions with pinpoint precision.
And at the rear Frank Castle himself. The Punisher. His rifle thundered like judgment, every shot decisive, every target executed. His face was stone, but his presence carried the weight of war.
The last Viper screamed, weapon raised. Castle cut him down mid-charge without hesitation. Smoke and silence followed.
The rebels regrouped, weapons up, scanning the streets.
Harry stepped forward, his rifle lowering as he looked between Spider-Man and the bloodied, bound Kraven. His voice was rough, controlled—but under it, Peter could still hear the faint echo of the boyhood friend he once knew.
"Peter… you got him."
Spider-Man's breath caught as he glanced down at Kraven, still grinning like the cage hadn't shut.
Kraven wheezed out another rasp, eyes flicking to the circle of rebels. "Good… prey… attracts… hunters…"
Spider-Man crouched over the webbed figure, chest heaving. Kraven should've been unconscious, bones fractured, muscles torn, blood soaking into the rubble beneath him. And yet… his eyes still burned, his lips still curled in that maddening grin.
(He's finished. But that will of his… it's not breaking. He'd crawl through hell itself before surrendering.)
"Secure the perimeter! Double-check the corpses none of the Vipers crawl out of this alive!" Punisher's voice cracked like gunfire across the battlefield, soldiers snapping into motion without hesitation.
Ganke stood at the edge, rifle smoking from the last volley, his face twisted with something darker than anger. His scar seemed to burn red under the fading light. "Fuck!!!" he spat, slamming the side of his gun. "How many of these lunatics do we have to bury before it ends!?"
Kraven only chuckled through blood and webbing, the sound guttural and broken, yet defiant.
Spider-Man's fists clenched. He couldn't shake it, that unease that even bound, even beaten, Kraven hadn't lost.
To be continue