First Cause • Spider-Man: Homecoming [Unedited]

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Even from two floors up, the harsh, clipped reverberations of the Arm allocating stations and duties to the Hands gathered in the lobby pierce the storms of her raging thoughts. Like a bowl of chilled water emptied suddenly onto her head, it reminds her of her shaky standing. Of how more dangerous that standing can and might get if trusting a certain colleague of hers with arguably the most important phase of her mission proves to be the wrong choice.

Roughly half an hour ago, when a Hand that was periodically peeking out between the lobby entrance doors jumped to attention, his formerly restless tentacles going as still as the surface of undisturbed waters, all conversation abruptly came to an end.

An Arm is approaching, he declared, his helmet's zooming function confirmed the symbol of the pin attached to the chest of the incoming figure. Demarden and Gadea shared a look, and the latter fled from the lobby.

There's no need to ascertain whether or not Snooty, in his avid contempt for her yet in visible disarray, blacklisted Gadea and affixed onto her number in the systems an order for execution. If a Retrieval and Obedience ship came for her head in the midst of all this madness, an Arm, after typing her name and identification details in their timekeeper, would make short work of consummating that kill order.

Being processed like the Elbow said would mean giving up her number, which would then give up her life. Gadea has never run so fast in her life.

About a minute after she dived from the lobby and found her way running through the floors in search of a hiding place, Demarden appeared from what seemed like the shadows. She took Gadea by the shoulder and shoved her into the room she now paces, and after that, she demanded a rundown of what caused Gadea to cut and run.

Scared out of her wits and seeing a potential ally to be made, Gadea gave Demarden the long and short of why she couldn't let herself be processed.

A slight narrowing of her black eyes being the only indicator of her reaction to Gadea's wild if not skinny—something in Gadea detects Demarden suspects there's much more to the story, and of course, there is—ventures, the Wayonan nodded once. She told Gadea to stay put, closed the door to the room, and departed. That was thirty minutes ago.

For now, Gadea is safe, hidden in one of the empty, cleared out office spaces in the Correspondence building. But whatever Arm they have assigned to handle the gaggle of Hands won't be an imbecile. They'll know to order a search of the building to ensure the deserters and yellow bellies come out from all their hiding places and serve their Lady as their obligation dictates.

She hasn't heard any approaching footfalls thus far. Nevertheless, Gadea picks apart what is left of the office for anything she can use to mount an attack should she be discovered.

The room is small, but the lack of furniture makes it seem like it goes on for miles. Bare white walls stained with all manner of things. Discarded tablets with smashed screens litter the floor, along with pieces of transponders blasted to bits. Getting on a knee to inspect a particularly nasty looking shard of glass from a broken window, Gadea gives one half of her attention to not cutting herself and the other to the door on her left.