As they walked home, the city felt calm for once. The streets were quieter, the glow of the FEAST Center fading behind them. Peter stretched his arms and sighed.
"Man, I'm wiped," he said. "Feels weird ending a day without a fight."
Max smirked. "You say that like you want one."
"Not really," Peter said, shaking his head. "Just… different."
Suddenly, his watch buzzed with a sharp tone. He looked down, and his expression shifted. "Guess break time's over."
Lumia raised a brow. "What is it?"
"Police scanners just picked up a possible Oscorp tech theft — Midtown Labs."
Max groaned lightly. "Of course."
Lumia was already pulling her jacket tighter, her tone firm. "Let's move."
Peter glanced at her, half-smiling. "You really fit in with the whole 'hero' chaos thing."
"I learned from the best," she said, giving him a look.
A moment later, Peter tapped his watch, and the Spider symbol lit faintly under his shirt. "Suit's synced. MJ and Harry are already on comms with Flash and the rest. Looks like it's all hands on deck."
"Team Spidey's got it covered," Max said with a small grin. "Guess I'll just tag along and make sure you don't get webbed into a wall again."
Peter rolled his eyes. "That happened one time."
"Twice," Lumia corrected.
They all started moving, their pace quickening as they cut through the streets toward Midtown.
By the time they reached the edge of the district, the sky was flashing red and blue from distant sirens.
Peter looked at Lumia. "You take the rooftops. I'll go in from the east. Max—"
"I'll handle the power grid," Max said. "Whoever's inside is using something big — I can feel the surge."
Peter nodded. "Let's end this fast."
And just like that, the calm of the night was gone. The quiet peace of FEAST faded behind them as the city called again — louder, sharper, endless.
The Spider Team split off into the dark, swinging and running across rooftops. Max stayed on the ground, his eyes glowing faintly as he synced with the city's power lines, tracing the source of the energy spike.
The surge led Max straight to Midtown Labs — a tall, glass structure with its top floors flickering from an unstable blue light. Sparks burst from the side of the building as alarms wailed through the night.
Max slowed his steps, the faint hum of electricity buzzing under his skin. "Yeah… definitely not a small job," he muttered.
Up above, Peter swung in with perfect rhythm, landing on the side of the building before crawling toward a shattered window. Lumia was already ahead of him, moving fast along the ledges, her gloves gripping the surface like it was nothing.
Through their earpieces, MJ's voice came in clear. "I'm reading six hostiles on-site — heavily armed. They're trying to override Oscorp's containment vault. Whatever they're stealing isn't just tech."
"Copy that," Peter said quietly. "Going in."
Lumia broke the window soundlessly, slipping inside first. Peter followed, hanging upside down from the ceiling. Below them, masked mercenaries worked on a glowing core — a pulsing orb of energy sitting inside a containment cradle.
"Looks like a mini arc reactor," Peter whispered. "Modified… definitely not Stark's design."
"More like stolen," Lumia murmured.
Down on the ground floor, Max reached the main grid panel. He touched the metal, eyes lighting up as he saw the system's entire layout in his mind. "They're pulling too much juice," he said into comms. "If that core goes unstable, we'll have a big crater where Midtown used to be."
"Got it," Peter replied. "Let's make sure that doesn't happen."
Lumia moved first — dropping down like a shadow, silent and precise. Two guards went down before they even turned their heads. Peter leaped in right after, webbing another to the wall and disarming the fourth with a quick spin kick.
The last two opened fire, bullets tearing through glass and concrete. Peter dove, webs snapping across the room, yanking their weapons away. Lumia rolled forward, striking one across the jaw and flipping the other over her shoulder.
"All clear," she said, brushing off her hands.
"Not yet," Max's voice warned in their ears. "That core's overloading. You've got less than a minute before it blows."
"Not yet," Max's voice came through their earpieces, calm but distant. He stood on a nearby rooftop, watching the chaos unfold below through the broken windows of Midtown Labs. "That core's overloading. You've got less than a minute before it blows."
Peter glanced at the reactor, sweat on his brow. The light inside was pulsing faster now, wild and unstable. "Can you stop it?" he asked, half out of habit.
Max didn't move. "You can," he said simply.
Down below, Peter and Lumia exchanged a quick look — no hesitation, no backup. They went straight to work. Peter fired a series of webs, sealing off sparking wires, while Lumia reached the containment cradle, her hands glowing faintly as she synced her suit with the energy field.
From above, Max watched closely, his expression unreadable. If it were him, a single thought would've been enough — a snap, a flicker of power, and the entire surge would have vanished. The overload, the mercenaries, the alarms — all gone in an instant. But he didn't move.
He wanted to see them handle it. To see how far they'd come.
"Come on, Parker," Max murmured under his breath. "Show me you can do this."
Inside, Lumia steadied the core's pulse, feeding controlled bursts of power through her suit. Peter rerouted the excess charge into the ground using his web conductors. For a few tense seconds, the entire lab glowed blue — then the light dimmed, fading into a steady, calm rhythm.
The alarms went silent.
Peter exhaled, shoulders relaxing. "Nice work, Lumia."
She smiled faintly. "We make a good team."
From his perch above, Max's lips twitched — not quite a smile, but close. "Not bad," he muttered. "They didn't even need a nudge."
Through the comms, MJ's voice came through, crisp and proud. "Containment stable. Police inbound. Clean exit, heroes."
"Let's wrap this up," Peter said, already webbing up the unconscious mercs. Lumia secured the vault, locking the system back down.
Within minutes, they were gone — slipping through the city shadows as the sound of sirens drew closer.
Later, they regrouped on a nearby rooftop. Peter pulled off his mask, breathing hard, but smiling. "Well… that could've gone worse."
***
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It's 22 chaps ahead