The neon lights of Times Square bled across the pavement like a surging tide. Giant electronic billboards flashed breaking news banners, hyping the impending confrontation as the fight of the century. The National Guard held the perimeter. They had locked down the entirety of the square. At Steve Rogers' direct request, a one-kilometer radius had been completely evacuated to mitigate any potential explosive fallout.
Yet, a military barricade couldn't suppress New York City. A massive crowd surged against the police tape. Thousands of cell phones and camera lenses thrust into the air. The civilians all wanted a shot of the hero and the villain. A blurry silhouette was enough. Most of them didn't care about Spider-Man or the Shocker specifically. They just saw a scheduled super-brawl as premium evening entertainment.
Amidst the chaotic, shoving crowd, something entirely unexpected happened. A teenager wearing a cheap, spandex Spider-Man suit stood on a concrete barricade. It was Eugene Thompson from Midtown High. He waved a massive, homemade cardboard sign supporting Spider-Man, screaming at the top of his lungs. He was a glaring red-and-blue anomaly in the sea of casual onlookers.
A deafening sonic boom shattered the ambient noise.
Herman Schultz slammed into the dead center of Times Square like an artillery shell. The asphalt cratered under his heavy boots. Jagged chunks of pavement flew outward. Herman slowly straightened up. He turned his head, taking in the empty intersection. Every single massive LED screen was locked onto him. Every news chopper camera was zoomed in on his armor. His yellow-and-silver plated visage stared back at him from fifty different angles.
Herman felt a deep, swelling satisfaction. Right here, right now, he was the center of the world.
The glory lasted exactly eight seconds.
A red-and-blue blur dropped from the night sky. Spider-Man executed a flawless mid-air somersault. He stuck a textbook three-point superhero landing on the cracked asphalt. He stood up, dusted off his shoulders, and shrugged.
Peter opened his mouth to complain about the severe lack of applause.
"Come on! Spider-Man! Kick his ass!" a lone voice shrieked from the distant barricades.
"Good evening, Herman," Peter called out. "Are you satisfied with the venue I booked for us?"
"It's perfect, bug," Herman growled, squaring his stance. "You're real good at picking your own graveyard. Tonight, the whole city watches the Shocker put you in the ground!"
Herman didn't wait for a witty comeback. He slammed both Shocker Gauntlets directly into the pavement.
A terrifying kinetic shockwave rippled outward. The asphalt buckled and shattered inch by inch. Jagged debris shot forward like shrapnel. Herman knew the bug couldn't see the acoustic waves. Even if he dodged the raw kinetic force, the flying rock would shred him. Distance was his ultimate advantage. As long as he kept the freak out of arm's reach, Herman was invincible.
Peter didn't retreat. He leaped straight up. He flipped over the first wave. He landed, sprang forward, and twisted his torso sideways. A chunk of asphalt whistled past his ear. He stepped forward again. He ducked beneath a horizontal blast. His spider-sense mapped the invisible acoustic ripples perfectly. He navigated the shrapnel field with casual precision.
Herman realized his target was closing the gap. It was too late.
Peter fired a thick web-line at the shattered street. He violently yanked a massive slab of asphalt into the air. He swung it like a baseball bat directly into Herman's helmet.
"I was going to offer a friendly pre-fight handshake!" Peter yelled over the ringing metal. "Too late to catch up?"
Herman stumbled back three heavy steps. Peter landed, immediately offering his open hand again.
"Shut up!" Herman roared, planting his boots to steady his spinning head.
"If we didn't already have that whole bank-destroying first date, I'd try to talk this out," Peter bantered, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. "But honestly? Your attack patterns are basically just 'punch the floor'. Why don't you just surrender and save the battery life?"
"I haven't lost!"
Herman had overhauled the suit's cooling system. He had the world watching. He unleashed a sustained, high-frequency shockwave. Peter simply combat-rolled under the blast. Even a complete amateur could see the truth now. Spider-Man didn't need to see the waves to dodge them.
The canyon of towering skyscrapers was Peter's domain. He fired web-lines, ricocheting between the neon-lit facades. He forced Herman to track him, rapidly draining the gauntlets' reserves. The second Herman paused to recalibrate, Peter closed the distance. Herman knew he couldn't win a fistfight against spider-strength.
Herman panicked. He cranked the gauntlet frequency to maximum.
He fired wildly at the surrounding buildings. Huge Jumbotrons and heavy steel billboards sheared off their mountings. They plummeted toward the street. Peter didn't dodge them. He fired rapid bursts of his newly synthesized web-fluid. He caught the falling debris mid-air. He laced thick anchor lines between the skyscrapers. Within seconds, Peter wove a massive, structural web directly above Herman's head, suspending tons of falling metal.
In the heat of the moment, Herman missed the most important detail. His stray shockwaves were hitting the new webbing, but the silk wasn't snapping.
Peter dropped from the sky. He landed on one knee right in front of Herman. He fired twin web-lines point-blank. He completely encased the Shocker Gauntlets in thick, pearly-white fluid. Herman scoffed. He clenched his fists, expecting the kinetic pulse to instantly blow the silk apart like last time.
The webs held firm.
Herman's eyes widened behind his visor. He stared at the webbing, then at Peter's wrist-shooters. He dumped maximum power into the gauntlets. The servos whined violently. Finally, the upgraded webbing blew apart in a shower of white flakes. Herman raised his fists for a counterattack.
Peter was already gone. He swung high into the neon sky.
Herman aimed upward. He unleashed a massive, amplified shockwave.
The blast hit Peter's structural web. The anchor lines holding the suspended debris field finally gave out. A dozen massive LED screens and steel billboards plummeted directly onto Herman. The collision shook Times Square. A massive cloud of dust and pulverized glass exploded outward, completely blinding Herman.
"Is that your big plan?!" Herman coughed, peering through the thick, swirling smoke. "You upgrade your little strings just to drop garbage on me? You think that's enough?!"
Herman punched the air. A shockwave cleared a wide tunnel through the dust. He expected to see Spider-Man standing in the wreckage.
Instead, he saw what Peter had actually been waiting for.
A lean silhouette blotted out the neon lights above. Peter sprinted down the face of a falling, unanchored Jumbotron. He fired a heavy web-line, attaching it to a massive, free-falling steel billboard. Peter leaped off the screen, using his downward momentum to violently sling the heavy steel sign directly at the clearing in the smoke.
From the helicopters above, the news cameras captured a breathtaking wide shot. A massive billboard slammed directly into the Shocker.
The crushed metal sign read: J. JONAH JAMESON - THE DAILY BUGLE REPORTS THE TRUTH!
Herman was pinned from the waist down. He gritted his teeth, shoving his gauntlets against the heavy steel. His hydraulic servos whined as he tried to lift the tonnage. He had the mechanical strength to move it.
Peter didn't give him the chance.
A thick web-line slapped onto Herman's raised wrists. Peter hauled backward with all his mutated strength. He ripped Herman cleanly out from under the billboard and dragged him across the asphalt. Peter grabbed the heavy yellow armor by the collar and hoisted Herman off the ground.
"It's over, Herman," Peter panted. "You're under arrest for carrying unlicensed flammable and explosive items. The Shocker is officially canceled."