Touch the Stars {Peter Parker}

Act 5: Towards the Battle May Convictions Fail

Bullets whizzed all around him and he huffed tiredly. His body was already laden with scrapes, bruises, and various flesh wounds. There was a limp on his right leg, courtesy of an earlier impact that had sent him sprawling. But he couldn't let up here. Peter couldn't let up here because Quentin had all access to the Stark Droids and he refused to let him endanger any more people.

It was a responsibility that Mr. Stark entrusted unto Peter. It was his, dammit. And Peter was going to fix what went wrong.

"Your lies are over Beck," Peter grumbled. He was suspended over the ceiling of the bridge and held Quentin by the collar of his suit.

"Well," the man drawled. "This certainly isn't ideal, but I have contingencies."

It took a moment for Peter to properly process those words, and then his sixth sense screamed at him. There was a hum of power before a sonic blast hit Peter square on the chest and sent him careening away from Mysterio.

Elbows and other pointed limbs dug into his body as Peter rolled on the floor and he barely caught himself. Coughs convulsed through his body and he struggled to suck air back into his lungs after the ensuing impact.

"Just give me the glasses," Spiderman groaned as he managed to get himself back on his two feet.

"You want these?" Quentin mockingly pulled out the glasses from his suit. Several electronic whirrs occupied the air as several drones entered the premises and trained their barrels on the New York vigilante. "Come and get 'em."

The droids hummed as an array of blue lights fixed over each other like bright lattices. One by one, each machine disappeared and then pitch darkness shot forward across the bridge. Peter mustered up his courage for what was to come...but his instincts screeched like nails against a chalkboard.

Simply put...reality in front of him shattered.

There was a simple click! followed by the pattering of footsteps. The darkness faded away to show a hooded figure holding his sheathed blade to his hip. Peter couldn't see any distinguishing figures about them save for the fact that their ensemble was black. They looked like no one he knew, so Peter had only one question:

"Who the hell are you?!" Quentin demanded. His expression was scrunched in a look of disbelief over the fact that this figure appeared out of nowhere and somehow negated his illusions. "How the hell did you get here?!"

Peter was going to ask the same questions...without the cussing. However, something stalled his tongue...telling him not to speak.

"Whatever," Quentin grumbled and the drones drove forward, their new fixation was the new entity. All of them freight-trained forward, and once again Peter's senses screeched at him to get away.

For the wrong reason.

The vigilante managed to stumble back as the swordsman's finger twitched. In the next split second, there were an array of refractions as if reality was cut into a thousand shapes. However, the space fixed itself as the droids collapsed onto the floor with only pitiful sparks to show for their assault.

"H-How..."

"Quentin Beck," the boy intoned. "Here you stand. Endangering a boy who had experienced the loss of his mentor merely for your own petty vengeance."

"You don't know anything!" Beck roared. "Tony Stark took--"

"Everything away from you?" the swordsman finished. "Then your grievances are with Tony Stark, not with Spiderman."