The alley reeked of damp and rotting trash. Between ripped bags, soaked cardboard, and a greenish puddle I really didn't want to look at too closely, it seemed like the perfect place for shadows to swallow someone whole without leaving a trace.
"Definitely not the kind of place I'd like to get lost in" Spider-Man joked as he hung from a web at mid-height.
Jewel didn't react to the joke. Her eyebrows furrowed as she studied the ground.
"This is where the last victim disappeared. A young woman, on her way home after work. The corner store's camera caught her entering this alley, but never coming out."
I moved closer to the spot she pointed at. The walls were stained with soot and graffiti; the ground covered with overlapping footprints and wheel tracks. Nothing obvious at first glance.
"What did the officers find?" I asked.
"Nothing"Jewel replied flatly."No signs of a struggle, no personal belongings, no reliable witnesses. Just someone claiming they heard a scream, but it could've been anything."
"Yeah, like a cat with anger issues" Spider-Man added, swinging lazily as if pretending not to care.
I activated the helmet. A blue light scanned across the visor, and the sensors whirred to life. The system—recently upgraded with Chitauri tech I'd integrated—projected a hologram into the middle of the alley. At first blurry, then sharpening bit by bit.
The program works by collecting microscopic data from the environment: pressure traces on the ground, particles in the air, residue on surfaces, even temperature shifts that hadn't yet dissipated. It processes everything in seconds and generates a 3D model projected as a hologram.
What you see isn't an exact recording, but a simulation calculated from probabilities. The helmet cross-references movement patterns, computes trajectories, and fills in gaps with predictive algorithms. The result: a surprisingly accurate reconstruction of what might have happened.
Of course, it isn't infallible: the more traces there are, the more precise it becomes; if there's barely any data, the margin of error grows. But in a disappearance like this, something always remains—microscopic or not.
Then the image sharpened: the silhouette of a woman walking, then shadows suddenly falling over her, a swift motion at her neck… and the figure collapsing.
Spider-Man nearly slipped off his web from the shock.
"Whoa, wait, wait… are you telling me your helmet has a 'crime scene replay mode'?"
Jewel's eyes widened too, staring at the hologram like she wasn't sure whether to believe it.
"How the hell did you pull this off?"
"I'm good with tech," I answered quietly, like it wasn't a big deal.
Spider-Man snorted behind his mask.
"Yeah… 'good with tech'he says. I can barely stop my aunt's microwave from exploding, and you whip out CSI: Hologram Edition."
I ignored the jab and moved to where the projection faded. Kneeling, I shifted damp boxes and garbage bags aside until something metallic clinked on the ground.
A tiny hypodermic dart, its edges rusted, almost invisible among the filth.
"Was that really there?" Jewel asked in surprise.
I picked it up carefully. At first glance, it was just an ordinary dart, but zooming in through the visor revealed a tiny engraving at the base, nearly erased by moisture: a stylized hand, its fingers elongated like blades.
I stared at it for a few seconds.
"This isn't good…" I whispered.
"So…" Spider-Man began, swaying gently on his web "what do we got here? Because all I see is a steroid needle."
"It's not just a dart" I replied. "It belongs to a dangerous organization. They call themselves 'The Hand.'"
Jewel raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms.
"The Hand? Sounds like a cheap gang name. How can you be so sure?"
"Let's just say I did my research. Using… one of my transformations" I said, not wanting to give too much detail.
Spider-Man pointed at me dramatically.
"Aha, right. The same transformation that I guess gives you access to 'Ninja Wikipedia in the Shadows'?"
"I'm not kidding" I shot back, more serious now. "They're not a simple gang. They operate in the shadows, with resources, and they don't leave loose ends."
Jewel narrowed her eyes, studying me.
"And suddenly you know so much about them."
"Not as much as I'd like" I admitted "but enough to know that if this dart is theirs, then the disappearance of 80 people might just be the tip of the iceberg."
For a moment, silence lingered awkwardly. They clearly weren't convinced. Jewel clenched her jaw, and Spider-Man shook his head in disbelief.
"Well" he finally said "we can argue later if your source is 'Alien Google' or whatever. For now, we've got a lead—and at least a name to chase."
"Exactly" Jewel added, exhaling deeply. "I don't care how you know it. If this gets us closer to the missing people, that's enough for now."
I nodded. The Hand is no joke: an ancient order of mystical ninjas, servants of the Demon known as "The Beast of the Hand."
"I'll scan it. Maybe it'll tell us more than it seems" I said, pulling a metallic oval about the size of my fist from my pocket.
I pressed it against my chest, and immediately, plates of machinery unfolded outward, assembling over my body. The metallic snap of joints and latches echoed through the alley as the pieces locked together: first arm and leg guards, then the torso plating, finally integrating with the helmet.
"Wow"muttered Spider-Man, folding his arms. "First a holographic crime replay, now this… you know what? I'm not even surprised anymore."
"Chitauri tech helped a lot," I replied as I activated the scanner built into my right arm. A green hologram projected in front of us, rendering the dart in 3D.
Jewel huffed.
"I guess not everyone could salvage Chitauri scraps and build something like this."
After my meal with the Avengers last week, I took a stroll through the city, collecting pieces of tech I stumbled on—weapons, armor, ship fragments, anything interesting—and stashed them in an abandoned port warehouse.
Then, with Grey Matter, I took time to study them, building a few toys I thought might come in handy, along with a multi-purpose suit for times when the Omnitrix isn't available.
I still need practice, though. For the little gray frog, using this stuff is simple; for me, it's harder in practice than I expected. So I streamlined things—less overthinking.
The leftovers I couldn't use, I melted down with Heatblast and dumped into the water. Just alien junk now.
I placed the dart in the scanner, spinning it in holographic space before us.
"At first glance, it looks like any dart,"I muttered. "But check this out."
Chemical structures unfolded in the air, numbers and lines hovering around the 3D model.
Spider-Man leaned forward, immediately pointing at them like he'd been reading that language all his life.
"That's aconite. And there—curare. Mixed with a synthetic stabilizer to keep its potency over time. Oh, and that chemical signature? Imported plant compounds, not local."
Jewel arched a brow.
"You… know all that from memory?"
"Eh, yeah, I have my moments," he said with a shrug. "It's not like I read 'Deadly Chemistry for Dummies,' but… I know what I'm looking at."
I stayed silent, watching him.
After all, Peter Parker is one of the brightest minds on Earth, though he often hides in the shadow of his alter ego—Spider-Man and all the jokes and heroics. For him, this must be as easy as counting to ten.
"Well, this isn't something just anyone could put together"I concluded.
"And it's not something you just buy at the corner drugstore either"Spider-Man added."Aconite, curare… not exactly easy to come by, unless you hit up certain herbalists, makeshift labs, or Chinatown's shadier markets."
"That means multiple possible points," I summarized, expanding a map of the city on my visor. "Just probabilities, nothing solid yet."
Jewel sighed, crossing her arms.
"Another puzzle."
I closed the hologram and tucked the dart into a compartment in my suit.
"At least now we know where to start."
================================================================
Night had fallen fully over the city, the constant hum of traffic distant from this forgotten street.
I met Jewel and Spider-Man at the entrance to the abandoned warehouse. The air smelled of damp metal and rust, the only sound the squeak of a loose sheet of iron shifting in the wind.
"This is the last place left to check," I whispered, adjusting my helmet as my sensors flickered with faint readings. "I hope we find something here… otherwise we'll have to start all over."
Spider-Man sighed dramatically.
"Great. Nothing like another night of industrial dumpster diving. Jameson's gonna love this: 'Spider spotted snooping through trash heaps.'"
"Stay focused, Spider," Jewel murmured, sliding the rusty door open with a push. "Any trace could matter."
We moved in silence, careful with each step. The floor creaked under us, my visor highlighted recent tracks: movement, dragging marks, signs someone had been here not long ago. I crouched to examine one when Spider-Man raised his hand.
"Hey, I think I found something," he whispered, pointing at a pile of stacked crates in the corner.
I moved closer to get a better view when the air shifted. A soft murmur, like cloth brushing against itself, rippled through the warehouse. My sensors spiked with multiple readings.
Figures emerged from the shadows—hooded, silent, armed with katanas and shurikens. The ninjas surrounded us in seconds, their formation closing in like a deadly circle.
"Ah, fantastic," Spider-Man quipped, flexing his fingers. "I was just missing a good silent ninja choreography."
No time for more. The Omnitrix on my wrist buzzed, reacting to the danger.
"It's hero time!" I slammed the dial, and a burst of green energy lit the darkness.
My muscles bulged, bones snapped and reshaped, my vision tuned into scents and vibrations. A guttural roar tore from my throat, echoing across the warehouse. I dropped on all fours, claws bared, saliva dripping from my fangs as the primal instincts of Wildmutt crashed over me like a tidal wave.
The ninjas moved like shadows, almost impossible to follow—except for me.
On all fours, my body reacted before my mind could catch up: growls rolled from my chest as my claws shredded fabric, my weight crushed three of them in a single pounce, and the echo of my snarl sent others staggering back.
Beside me, Jewel was a storm of brute force. Every strike thundered like a hammer against steel, enemies falling before they could even swing.
Above us, Spider-Man danced from beam to beam, webs flying between wisecracks:
"Seriously! You guys ever think about brighter uniforms? Black doesn't help when you're getting your butts kicked!"
Despite their numbers, they fell one by one. Quick, decisive—until the floor was littered with unmoving bodies.
Only my heavy breathing and the faint buzz of a dangling lamp filled the silence.
Jewel grabbed one still conscious, yanking him up by his robe and ripping off his mask.
"Talk. Where are the people you took?"
The man barely glanced at her. A dry crack echoed as something in his mouth snapped. His eyes clouded instantly, foam spilling from his lips as his body went limp in her grip.
Spider-Man dropped from the ceiling, frantic, checking one body, then another.
"No, no, no… they're all dead!"
My jaw clenched, a growl rumbling low. Fanatical ninjas—of course they'd rather die than share the slightest secret. I could have stopped them. I could have saved one. But… why didn't I?
…Not the time to think about this.
Yeah. Not now. People are missing. We have to find them.
I looked at my teammates.
Both heroes were shaken. Peter's heartbeat was spiking fast. But I knew the unseen spectators who'd been quietly watching would calm them.
Then, a serene voice cut through the silence.
"It wasn't your fault. They chose death. Capsules of poison hidden in their teeth. It's their code… death before betraying the order."
I'd sensed them even before they spoke—their steps, their breathing, their scents. Two men approached from the shadows.
The first emerged with golden light engulfing his fist, illuminating the darkness like a living lantern. His tone was calm, almost instructional, like a master teaching a lesson.
"When you choose to face the darkness, you must understand—it never yields easily. These weren't common thugs… they were zealots." Iron Fist pressed his glowing fist into his open palm, bowing slightly.
The second stepped forward. His crimson suit absorbed the dim light, his helmet revealing only the hard line of his mouth. His voice was firm, no room for doubt.
"And you… you shouldn't be here. This isn't a place for children."
Daredevil didn't look happy at all.
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HOW ARE YOU GUYS DOING? HOPE ALL IS WELL. SO, MYSTICAL NINJAS AND TWO MORE HEROES SHOW UP. MAKES YOU WONDER—WHAT IS THE HAND PLANNING? WHERE'S ELEKTRA? AND WHY DID I EAT THAT EXPIRED YOGURT A WEEK AGO?
WE'LL SEE IF SOME OF THESE QUESTIONS GET ANSWERED IN THE NEXT EPISODE.
THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT AND COMMENTS.
TAKE CARE :)