Black Spider-Man landed in silence.
The wind whispered as he stood tall amidst smoke and fire. His suit gleamed like obsidian, sleek and predatory. The white crow on his chest pulsed faintly in the embers' glow, a symbol unknown to them, yet commanding respect.
The rebels froze.
Quin narrowed her eyes, scarred jaw clenched. "...Is that who I think it is?"
Frank Castle cocked his gun, jaw tight. "That suit... that ain't friendly."
Robin, still gripping his bloodied bat, took a step forward, squinting.
"Wait a second… wait—Spider-Man?!"
All eyes turned to him.
Robin blinked. "Bro... why'd you become black?"
Silence.
Everyone Quin, Ganke, Frank, Harry, Arlo, Tray stared at him.
Robin blinked again, panicking. "NO—WAIT—I MEAN—NOT LIKE THAT! NO RACIST HERE!"
Peter didn't answer.
He just sighed, deeply.
Classic Robin.
Then his eyes rose piercing, cold, focused landing directly on Kraven.
The hunter stood amid flames, calm and grinning like a madman.
Kraven's voice echoed.
"Finally… the rumors. The masked ghost crawling through rebel zones. The one they whisper about. The last thread of hope…"
He took a step forward, arms open like a priest welcoming prophecy.
"Hmmm.. a Black Suit like a symbol born in death."
Peter didn't flinch.
His voice came quiet… deeper than before.
"I'm not your symbol."
He stepped toward Kraven, past the rebels, past the wounded and the fire and the broken concrete.
"And I'm not just here to give hope."
The wind howled as the black figure stopped ten feet from Kraven.
"I'm also here to end your hunt."
Robin blinked again, leaning toward Harry. "Okay but like... still, why the crow?"
Beside him, Harry didn't break his gaze from Peter. He whispered, half-serious, half-joking—
"Probably the Mark II suit isn't ready yet."
Peter barely moved… but a faint thought passed through his mind.
(…He's right.)
(The Mark II isn't stable enough. This was the only one I had ready... and now everyone thinks I'm trying to be some kind of edgy legend born from vengeance.)
From across the firelit space, Kraven chuckled, eyes gleaming like molten gold.
"A crow on your chest," he growled. "You wear it like you really want to end this hunt… badly."
Peter didn't answer at first.
He exhaled silently.
(No, no… it's just coincidence. This is Gwen costume so the design is like that. But sure, let him enjoy his little villain monologue. Let him have his delulu moment.)
He raised his head.
"Let's end this."
Kraven bared his teeth. "If you can, that is."
And then movement.
Fast.
Kraven lunged with a roar not like a man, but like a beast.
Peter's enhanced reflexes barely kept up. He ducked, twisted, and blocked a slash of a vibranium claw with both forearms.
(Strong...)
Peter's eyes narrowed.
(He's not an ordinary human.)
Kraven's next strike shattered a concrete chunk where Peter had just been standing.
(His speed… no normal soldier has that. That serum… it's not just Super-Soldier. It's something more.)
Kraven grinned as he swiped again. "This body—a gift from the wild! Blood of the lion, flesh of the hunter!... In short I got super soldier serum boost and a mighty blood of a lion"
"I noticed." Peter muttered, skidding back, hands up.
(I can't go full force. If I do… I'll kill him.)
But Kraven gave no room to think. He leapt again, this time spinning mid-air, unleashing a flurry of claw swipes aimed at Peter's neck.
Peter ducked low, slid across debris, and launched a kick into Kraven's ribs. It landed, hard but Kraven barely flinched.
"IS THAT ALL, SPIDER?!"
Peter grunted.
(Okay… maybe I need to stop holding back so much.)
The rebels, watching from afar, could only see blurred movement a clash of predator and prey, but unclear which was which.
Quin's hand hovered near her sidearm.
Frank loaded a fresh clip.
Harry stood frozen.
Robin whispered, "Man… it's like watching Batman wrestle a werewolf."
Kraven came in again, fangs bared. "You wear the black like death itself—but do you fear killing, Spider-Man?"
Peter parried, gritting his teeth.
"I fear what I become if I stop caring."
He caught Kraven's wrist, twisted, and for a moment just a flicker, Kraven's expression changed.
Shock.
Pain.
Respect.
Then the hunter, Kraven, snarled, leaping back and dropping into a low, animalistic crouch his fingertips scraping the rubble, his muscles tense like a coiled predator.
"Good," Kraven growled, eyes burning with wild anticipation.
"This will be a worthy final hunt."
Peter's eyes narrowed under the black mask.
(He thinks I'm just another spider swinging through buildings… But he doesn't know me. Not really.)
(I was trained by Frank Castle — The Punisher. He didn't teach me to pull punches. He taught me to survive.)
(I know Krav Maga. I know how to break bones with purpose. And before all this?)
His fingers curled tighter.
(I was Drake… Raised in a ganghood. Fought on broken pavement. Learned to throw fists before I could ride a bike. MMA. Dirty tricks. Survival instincts. Kraven… you're not the only hunter here.)
Peter lowered his stance, matching Kraven's primal energy, the white crow on his chest glinting under the city's broken lights.
Robin, off to the side, blinked at the sight.
"Okay yeah... we're definitely not calling him friendly neighborhood anything anymore."
Quin muttered, "He's not here to save. He's here to finish it."
Then Kraven roared and charged.
Peter met him halfway.
Claws against fists.
Hunter versus shadow.
The hunt… had begun.
Then—
Kraven lunged.
A blur of muscle and violence tore across the concrete.
Peter pivoted sideways, just in time, Kraven's clawed gauntlet slicing inches from his throat. Asphalt sprayed as Kraven's strike tore into the pavement behind him.
(Fast. Too fast. That serum isn't just for show.)
Peter didn't wait. He stepped in, close, too close for a hunter who relied on range and pouncing. He dropped low and jammed his palm upward into Kraven's jaw, a Krav Maga stun strike, snapping the hunter's head back.
Kraven grunted, but didn't fall.
He spun with the blow, twisting like a lion mid-roll, sweeping his leg out wide.
Peter jumped, flipped, and landed backward but Kraven was already there, moving with
inhuman agility, claws lashing out in a flurry.
CLANG! CLANG! SHHHK!
Peter blocked, deflected arms a blur. Elbowed Kraven's strike to the side, countered with a snap kick to the ribs.
Kraven absorbed it. Grinned.
"Good reflexes, spider. You dance well."
To be continue