Ice crawls across the street like a living thing.
Spider-Man swings in fast, boots skidding as he lands on the frozen pavement outside the Wayne Enterprises laboratory. Frost clings to the walls, the doors sealed in thick, translucent ice. The air itself feels sharp and with each breath stings.
At the center of it all stands Mr. Freeze.
The armored figure turns slowly, heavy boots crunching against the ice. Blue lights pulse across his suit, vapor rolling from his shoulders.
"Mr.Freeze," Spider-Man says, pointing. "Okay, cool costume. Love the glow. Very sci-fi."
Freeze raises his cannon, the weapon humming ominously.
"Leave," Freeze says, voice distorted and cold. "This does not concern you, boy."
Spider-Man winces. "Ouch. Boy. First supervillain and I'm already being dismissed."
Freeze fires.
A beam of absolute zero tears through the air.
Spider-Man's spider-sense SCREAMS.
He flips sideways just as the beam slams into the ground, freezing the pavement instantly. Ice spikes erupt where he stood a second ago.
"OH NOPE!" Spider-Man yelps, webbing the side of the building and yanking himself upward.
The beam follows him.
"Hey! That's cheating!" Spider-Man shouts as the ice blast chases him up the wall, freezing bricks solid beneath his hands.
His grip slips.
"Okay, bad start very bad start!"
He fires a web at Freeze's cannon.
The web freezes midair.
"…That's new."
Spider-Man hits the ground hard, skidding across ice until he slams into a frozen car.
Freeze advances, every step heavy and deliberate.
"You are untrained," Freeze says. "And you are wasting my time."
Spider-Man groans, pushing himself up. "Yeah, well, I skipped the 'mentorship' phase."
Freeze raises the cannon again.
Spider-Man lunges.
He throws a punch and his fist slams into Freeze's armored chest.
It does nothing.
Spider-Man stares at his hand.
"…Huh."
Freeze backhands him.
The blow sends Spider-Man flying, smashing through a frozen lab window and tumbling across the lab floor. Glass and ice explode everywhere.
Spider-Man groans again, rolling onto his back.
"Ow. Okay. That one counts."
Freeze steps inside, freezing the doorway shut behind him.
Spider-Man scrambles to his feet, heart pounding.
"Alright," he mutters. "Think, Alex. Think."
Freeze fires again.
Spider-Man dodges but not fast enough.
Ice slams into his leg.
The cold is instant and brutal.
Spider-Man screams.
"OH THAT'S NOT GOOD!"
His leg locks up, ice crawling over the suit.
He collapses to one knee, teeth chattering violently.
Freeze looms over him.
"Stay down," Freeze says. "This ends now."
High above, hidden in the shadows of a neighboring rooftop Batman watches and Nightwing crouches beside him.
"…Kid's getting wrecked," Dick mutters.
Bruce doesn't respond.
"He's still thinking," Bruce says quietly.
Below, Spider-Man clenches his fists, breathing hard.
"O-Okay," he says through chattering teeth. "You hit very hard. Noted."
Freeze raises the cannon point-blank.
Spider-Man suddenly fires a web straight into Freeze's visor.
It splats harmlessly but it blocks his vision.
Freeze jerks back, snarling. "Enough!"
Spider-Man rolls away just as the blast fires, freezing the floor where his head was a moment earlier.
Spider-Man pants, staring at the frost creeping up his leg.
"…Ice gun," he mutters. "Ice armor. Cold everywhere."
He looks around.
Power cables. Consoles. Cooling vents. Emergency sprinklers.
His eyes widen.
"…Oh."
Freeze charges.
Spider-Man leaps with pain screaming through his frozen leg and webs a hanging cable, swinging wide.
"Hey, Victor!" Spider-Man shouts. "Quick science question!"
Freeze fires again.
Spider-Man swings behind a massive coolant tank.
"What happens," Spider-Man continues, voice echoing, "when something really cold meets something really hot?"
Freeze freezes the tank solid.
Spider-Man grins behind the mask.
"Because I'm about to find out!"
He webs the overhead fire suppression system and yanks hard.
Sprinklers explode.
Water rains down everywhere.
Freeze laughs darkly. "Fool. You help me."
The water freezes instantly but not evenly.
Spider-Man fires webs into the frozen pipes, ripping them apart. Steam bursts into the room as hot emergency systems kick in, clashing violently with the cold.
Ice cracks.
Armor strains.
Freeze stumbles.
"What are you doing?" Freeze roars.
Spider-Man swings low, kicking Freeze's cannon.
It misfires.
The beam ricochets, blasting into the ceiling and causing a massive steam explosion.
Freeze staggers and Spider-Man presses the advantage and he was fast and relentless.
Webs fire in rapid succession, clogging joints, sealing vents, locking servos.
"You see," Spider-Man pants, "your suit is amazing! But it's designed for control. Stable environments."
Freeze struggles, frost building unevenly across his armor.
"But Gotham?" Spider-Man says. "Gotham is chaos."
Freeze roars and charges again.
Spider-Man waits and at the last second, he leaps aside and webs a power conduit straight into Freeze's cooling system and the suit sparks.
Freeze collapses to one knee.
"No!" Freeze growls.
Spider-Man slams him into the ground with a full-body tackle, webbing him down hard.
He stumbles back, breathing heavily, shaking from cold and adrenaline.
"…Okay," Spider-Man says. "I'm officially exhausted."
Freeze struggles weakly, systems failing.
Police sirens grow louder.
High above Nightwing exhales. "He adapted."
Bruce nods. "He learned."
Spider-Man looks down at Freeze and says "Well thos is a job well done by the Ultimate Spider-Man." He loses and silence.
Then he hangs his head "No one is even around."
He swings away.
Spider-Man lands hard against the side of the apartment building.
His grip slips for a second before he catches himself, fingers digging into brick. He exhales shakily and pulls himself up to the window, prying it open just enough to slip inside.
The mask comes off first.
Then the suit.
He peels the damaged fabric away slowly, hissing as it pulls at bruised skin. Purple and blue marks bloom across his ribs, his shoulder, his thigh with some already darkening, others just beginning to ache.
Alex stares at himself in the mirror.
"…That's gonna be hard to hide," he mutters.
He cleans up as best he can, then quietly steps out of his room.
The apartment is dim, lit only by the streetlight bleeding through the blinds.
His mom is asleep on the couch.
Still in her nurse's uniform.
Her shoes are kicked off. One arm hangs limply over the side of the couch, exhaustion carved into every line of her face.
Alex stops.
He just stands there, watching her chest rise and fall.
Sadness settles heavy in his chest.
Carefully, he grabs a blanket and drapes it over her, tucking it around her shoulders the way she used to do for him when he was little.
"Goodnight, Mom," he whispers.
She doesn't stir.
On the small dinner table sits a plate, covered with foil.
Alex lifts it and it was warm.
He sits, eating quietly, every bite reminding him how hungry he still is but this time, it's different. This food wasn't about calories or strength.
It was care.
Afterward, he returns to his room and pulls the suit out again. Needle. Thread. Steady hands.
He stitches slowly, carefully, wincing when he has to lean too far or stretch too much. Each tear gets sealed. Each mistake corrected.
The suit isn't perfect but neither is he.
When he's done, he folds it neatly and sets it aside. Alex collapses onto his bed, exhaustion finally winning.
Then tomorrow he'll wake up and do it all again.