Third Person POV:
The person known as the Tinkerer was preparing for a war.
She knew that Miles was wanting blood now because she had caused him to injure
his girlfriend. She smiled to herself. Now he was beginning to know what her world of pain felt like. It was only a matter of time before he was dead and she would be satisfied with herself.
But, for this war, she had no army. She had nobody to turn to.
But in this case, she was waiting at a table that had the fresh smell of chemicals, being freshly cleaned as this was a prison and not a lot of things would be clean.
A door buzzed as a large man of stature groaned trying to fit through the doorframe, and Tinkerer stood up, walking over to greet the man. The crinkles around his eyes squinted as he looked down at her and was about to say something until the door closed and the two guards standing by the door were now having a bright imprinted red smile on their necks as they fell to the floor.
Tinkerer wiped off her sword with her glove. "Want to get out of here and get revenge, or do you want to rot in here?"
The man looked down at her and chuckled, cracking his knuckles that were still in handcuffs, but Tinkerer quickly took care of that, slicing the handcuffs off. "I think the answer's obvious."
"Great," she says looking at him, pulling her mask on. "Get the others and let's get the hell out of here. I'm sure all of us want revenge on Spider-Man,"
The man's expression change as he slammed a fist against the wall. "He's dead."
"That's the plan,"