The manicured plaza of the Piltover Academy was a symphony of sheer terror.
Screams tore through the crisp evening air as the unmanned Hextech glider spun violently out of control. Its unstable propulsion core shrieked like a dying beast, venting trails of violet plasma across the pristine marble pathways.
Stripped of its operator, the glowing platform tilted skyward for an agonizing heartbeat before nose-diving straight toward a cluster of fleeing nobles and the bewildered form of Professor Heimerdinger.
Above the pandemonium, Stanwick's raspy, distorted laughter echoed off the marble pillars.
Clutched in his iron talons, a young research assistant kicked frantically, his terrified shrieks swallowed by the roar of the Vulture's erratic Hextech thrusters as the creature climbed into the twilight sky.
Inside the elevated glass VIP terrace, chaos reigned supreme. Aristocrats overturned polished oak chairs and trampled velvet runners in a frantic rush toward the exit stairwell.
Kyle didn't waste a single second.
Slipping seamlessly into the shadowy alcove of a curtained storage nook, his aristocratic posture dissolved instantly into the fluid, lethal grace of a seasoned hero. His navy tailor-made jacket hit the floor; underneath, the sleek, form-fitting fabric of his red-and-blue suit reflected the ambient blue glow of the Hextech lamps. Pulling the fabric mask over his face, Kyle's senses flared into absolute focus.
First rule of superheroics, Kyle thought, his eyes narrowing beneath the glowing white lenses of his mask. Save the crowd before you clip the bird.
He shattered the glass transom above the terrace door with a quick elbow strike and launched himself into the open night air.
***************
Below, Heimerdinger held up his small, gloved hands instinctively as the erratic glider plummeted toward him. Just yards before impact, a bright white streak cut across the dark sky with a whip-like THWIP!
A thick line of high-tensile webbing latched onto the glider's nose cone.
Mid-swing, Spider-Man yanked back with raw, kinetic force, altering the device's trajectory. The glider veered sharply away from the crowd, slamming into an empty stone fountain in a shower of brass gearwheels, spark-spitting wires, and harmless water spray.
"Everybody stay down!" Spider-Man called out, landing lightly on the head of a bronze statue before instantly coiling his legs to leap again. "And Professor—maybe put a speed governor on the next model!"
"Great Scott!" Heimerdinger sputtered, adjusting his spectacles in utter bewilderment. "You're him! That wall-crawling vigilante?!"
Spider-Man didn't wait to hear the rest. His Spider-Sense buzzed violently, pointing his gaze straight up into the starry expanse.
Two hundred feet above the Academy, Stanwick hovered. His massive, rusted metal wings beat rhythmically against the air currents, blue electrical arcs dancing wildly over the exposed, unrefined Hextech core strapped to his spine.
"Look at them scatter like insects!" Stanwick roared, his voice amplified through the iron resonator built into his mask. "You built your glittering city on the back of our blood and inventions, Piltover! Now feel the talons of my vengeance!"
He raised an armored hand, preparing to crush the choking assistant's throat.
"Hey, Featherhead!"
The voice echoed from directly below. Stanwick glanced down just in time to see a red-and-blue streak launching off the highest spire of the science building.
"Air traffic control called!" Spider-Man yelled as he soared through the night air, propelling himself upward with a double web-shot to the surrounding spires. "You didn't file a flight plan, and frankly, that suit violates about forty different noise ordinances!"
THWIP! THWIP!
Two sticky strands of webbing latched onto the young assistant's waist. Spider-Man braced his boots against the archway of the clock tower, pulling back with all his strength.
"Nuisance!" Stanwick snarled. With a flex of his mechanical back harness, the Vulture snapped his left wing forward. The razor-sharp titanium feather-blades severed the web-lines in a single blinding flash.
The sudden loss of tension sent the assistant slipping from Stanwick's grip, sending the boy plunging headfirst toward the stone courtyard below.
"Gotcha—whoa!"
Spider-Man tucked his shoulders and dove straight down into a steep freefall, the wind howling in his ears. The cobblestones rushed up to meet them at terrifying speed.
Sprinting sideways along the vertical pillar to convert his momentum, Spider-Man launched himself forward, his outstretched arms catching the assistant by his shirt collar just thirty feet off the ground. Flipping backward in mid-air to absorb the kinetic shock, Spider-Man fired a broad web-net between two thick marble archways, depositing the trembling boy softly onto the cushioned webbing.
"Stay put, kid," Spider-Man urged, patting the assistant's shoulder. "Or, well... swing put. Just don't move."
Before the boy could even nod, a massive shadow engulfed them.
SKREEEEEECH!
The Vulture stooped like a peregrine falcon, his massive metal wings folded tight before snapping outward at the last second. The sharp edges of his wingtips sliced through the heavy stone archway as if it were soft parchment, sending a shower of heavy masonry raining down.
Spider-Man somersaulted backward off the wall, dodging the sharp metal talons by a fraction of an inch as his Spider-Sense blared red-hot in his mind.
"I heard of you!" Stanwick hissed, his glowing red goggles glaring down at the hero from twenty feet up. The unrefined Zaunite thrusters on his back shuddered, spewing thick black smoke and blue plasma bursts. "You're that masked pest from the bank! You protect these fat, pampered lords!"
"Actually, I'm open to constructive criticism," Spider-Man bantered, vaulting onto the rooftop tiles of the main hall. "But if you're trying to make a fashion statement with rust and discarded plumbing, I think Zaun's spring collection missed the mark!"
"Silence!" Stanwick shrieked.
He swooped in low, sweeping his right wing across the rooftop. The titanium blades carved through the slate tiles, kicking up a blinding cloud of sharp debris. Spider-Man flipped sideways, twisting his body through a tight gap between two spinning wing-strikes, but the sheer backdraft of the unrefined Hextech thrusters slammed into his chest like a battering ram, launching him across the roof.
Spider-Man skidded to a halt near the edge, his boots digging deep grooves into the copper guttering.
Seeing the volatile Hextech cores powering the Vulture's harness, Kyle knew he had to be extremely careful. One wrong blow to that cracked harness core could trigger a blast that would level half the plaza.
*************
Meanwhile, amidst the chaos in the courtyard below, stood Viktor.
He was looking up at the battle with a rare mixture of intense curiosity and profound fascination.
When that terrifying man in the bird-like iron suit had descended from the sky, Viktor had felt the instinctual grip of fear. But then came Spider-Man.
Right now, that masked figure was dancing along vertical walls, defying gravity, and fighting an insane, armor-clad monster with unbelievable agility.
Viktor was mesmerized. As someone born with a frail, failing body and a limited lifespan, Viktor had spent his entire life trapped by physical weakness. He had always dreamed of being able to move freely—to run, to climb, to break free from his physical cage.
Seeing someone perform such extraordinary, superhuman feats reawoke a deeply buried ambition within his soul. Human limits are meant to be surpassed, Viktor thought, his knuckles whitening around his cane. Science can bridge the gap.
Unfortunately, his spellbound fascination had made him lose track of his surroundings. Standing isolated in the center of the clearing, he was entirely exposed.
Stanwick was losing his mind in a fever of pure frustration.
No matter how furiously he struck, that slippery insect dodged his blades, mocked his life's work, and countered with infuriating quips. Again and again and again.
"Die, you miserable pest!" Stanwick roared, sweeping his wings in wild, broad arcs.
Through the cloud of copper dust, Stanwick's glowing goggles scanned the courtyard below—and froze.
His eyes locked onto the solitary figure standing near the central fountain holding a cane.
Viktor.
In an instant, the fog of Stanwick's rage cleared, reminding him why he had come to the Academy in the first place: not to trade blows with a street vigilante, but to exact absolute vengeance on the young partner who had dared to stand in his shadow.
"Found you," Stanwick spat through his iron mask.
Without a second thought, the Vulture folded his wings and inverted his thrusters, angling his massive frame straight down toward Viktor at breakneck speed.
No! Kyle thought, his white lenses widening in shock as he realized the Vulture's sudden change of direction. Damn it, Vik! Why didn't you run?!
Seeing the mechanical terror plunging toward him like a falling meteor, Viktor finally snapped out of his stupor. He stumbled backward, scrambling frantically to run, but his withered leg buckled under the sudden strain.
Spider-Man leapt from the roof, firing twin web-lines to catapult himself downward into a high-speed interception curve. "Get out of the way!" he shouted.
Kyle was closing the distance rapidly, extending a hand to grab Stanwick's back harness just before the monster reached Viktor.
But Stanwick had anticipated the rescue.
Just as Spider-Man came within arm's reach, the Vulture spun mid-air with violent precision. Concealed mechanical apertures on his gauntlets snapped open, revealing compact, brass-ringed acoustic emitters.
Kyle's Spider-Sense screamed, but it was a second too late.
A concentrated, high-frequency sonic shockwave erupted from Stanwick's wrists with a deafening screech.
The invisible wall of acoustic pressure struck Spider-Man square in the chest. The violent vibrations shattered his equilibrium, overwhelming his acute Spider-Sense with sheer sensory noise.
Kyle gasped as his muscle control failed momentarily, the acoustic blast knocking him sideways through the air. He crashed heavily into the stone cobblestones, skidding across the plaza while disoriented ringing echoed violently inside his skull.
"A predictable heroic flaw," Stanwick cackled, hovering ten feet above the ground as his thrusters kicked up a hurricane of dust. He felt immense irritation that he had to use this attack so early. It was a one-off attack, considering how much pressure it put on the suit.
But now was not the time to lament.
He turned his glowing red gaze back toward Viktor, who was lying vulnerable on his back, his cane knocked several feet away.
Stanwick extended his iron talons, the titanium blades gleaming under the Hextech lanterns. "Now, my dear colleague... let us settle our account."