First Cause • Spider-Man: Homecoming [Unedited]

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The raging roar of the sea compares naught to the near-deafening wails of her heart in her eardrums.

The sound of its beating as it pumps well-needed oxygenated blood throughout her circulatory system takes on a more dark, deliberate tone. One that is reminiscent of the thunk of an executioner's footfall as the promise of demise draws near with each step. One that rings like so many church bells on the days funeral services are being conducted. One that could be mistaken for the click of a gun as the safety is thumbed off.

For the moment, that sound and all the things it reminds her of are all Gadea's mind, a patchwork of the present and the lingering, inescapable past, bothers to allow bother it.

She knows in a detached, absent sort of way, that over the ferry and the noises that characterize it, Peter, her partner in this soon-to-be botched, operation calls out for her. She can hear the lilting squeak of his young voice even as it is muffled slightly behind the cowl of his suit.

His voice, pubescent and childish as it is, graduating into a shriller pitch that rivals the bellowing volume of the ferry's horn. He hollers to his accomplice above go unanswered.

She knows in a predictive sort of way this impasse she has induced between her and the two human workers she has locked eyes with and whom she holds at gunpoint will not continue in this relative shocked silence. It's gone on far longer than she would have ever guessed, though she suspects this is as a result of her attire that will no doubt register as strange to them. It can also be due to the issue of the gun she has trained on them.

But with the unsteady way her shaking hand clutches the handle, that might change very soon.

The raging roar of the sea intensifies with every turn the ferry makes cutting through the water. A particular steer to the right knocks Gadea off kilter, and with her center of gravity misaligned, her aim follows suit.

For a moment, the barrel of her gun points not at Mike or Phil. Instead, the black sign underneath the curving panel of windows with the words 'Spirit of America' in a browning white print would have wilted underneath the gaze of her particle gun had it been sentient. Contrastively, the men Mike and Phil, freed from her current attention, remember themselves and do what panicked men do in difficuties that cause men to panic.

Evidently forgoing the option of fight, Mike and Phil flee in a way that sends a streak of agitation racing down Gadea's spinal column. They completely ignore the comfy-looking chairs beside the control panel they were previously gunning for when they entered the room, and alternately, Phil removes a chain from around his neck and hands it to Mike.

The pendant, formerly hidden as it was under Phil's turquoise button-up, reveals itself to be a key as it's passed from hand to hand. With one last glance at the girl still struggling to find her footing on the deck beyond the control room, Mike runs to the westward panel. He sticks the key into a protruding lock on the flat surface beside the many-colored buttons; it opens a pad with a red button.