Marvel’s Shadowed Knight

As she prepared to remove Bruce's battle suit, Aunt May looked up at him and said, "You don't have to take off the mask if you don't want to."

Bruce managed a faint smile.

Then, he lifted his hand and took off his mask.

"That would be too distrustful of you," he said with a smile.

Aunt May didn't say anything as she looked at the boy. Instead, she simply focused on carefully helping him remove the damaged suit.

Once the battle suit was completely off, she finally saw the injuries on Bruce's back.

Although his cape and armor had absorbed most of the damage, they hadn't been able to block everything.

Small shards had torn through his protection and embedded themselves in his back.

Aunt May had helped Peter with his injuries before, but Peter's enhanced physique and healing abilities meant that many of his wounds would heal on their own.

Bruce, however, was an entirely different case.

"This is going to hurt," Aunt May said, taking a deep breath. "Do you need anesthesia?"

"Just clean it up," Bruce replied.

Despite his words, Aunt May hesitated for a moment.

But Bruce had already started disinfecting his own wounds.

He poured medical hydrogen peroxide directly onto his back. The blood that had been trickling down from his wounds since he removed his suit was washed away.

Aunt May knew how painful this method of disinfecting was. Even the toughest person would wince from the sting.

But Bruce didn't even flinch.

He simply lay there on the chair, waiting for Aunt May to remove the shards from his back.

Aunt May didn't know what this boy had been through.

She only knew that her heart ached for him.

Still, that didn't stop her from doing what needed to be done.

Clink… clink…

One by one, she pulled the fragments out and placed them in a tray.

Bruce remained silent the entire time.

The pain was excruciating, but he had long since grown used to it.

Minute by minute, time passed.

By the time Aunt May extracted the last shard, even she, a strong and capable woman, felt exhausted.

She slumped into a chair beside him, feeling drained.

Bruce, on the other hand, got up as if nothing had happened.

He didn't seem to care that blood was still dripping down his back.

He merely gave Aunt May a small smile before grabbing some gauze and wrapping his wounds himself.

The brief rest had allowed him to recover some strength.

Watching the young man in front of her, Aunt May asked, "What do you plan to do next?"

"First, I'll clean up the chaos in New York. Then, I'll settle things with those guys once and for all."

Bruce spoke as he bandaged himself, showing no concern about the scars he might be left with.

"I can help you."

It wasn't Aunt May who spoke this time.

Inside the cell, the Red Death reached out a hand.

Crimson lightning crackled around him, accompanied by small, fluttering bats.

"I'll handle it," Bruce replied coldly.

That was the only response he gave the Red Death.

"I still can't believe it. That little reporter was right after all," Aunt May said, perhaps feeling reassured by Bruce's stable condition.

"Sometimes, the most unpredictable thing in this world is human nature," Bruce said casually.

His gaze fell on his battle suit—now too damaged to be worn again.

He stepped forward and began salvaging whatever remained usable, removing the arm guards and any other functional parts.

"We Can Make a New One, Right?"

Aunt May, having regained a bit of strength, walked to the other side of the room.

Under her control, a platform slowly descended from above.

On it lay various materials, along with a device designed for crafting Spider-Man suits—something akin to a generator.

"With this, we can create a brand-new battle suit for you," Aunt May said, sitting in her chair as she gestured toward the equipment.

"Go ahead and try it out."

Bruce didn't say a word. He simply stepped onto the platform.

As Bruce and Aunt May began working on the suit, Miles Morales, who had been taken away earlier, slowly regained consciousness.

"Hey, where did you guys take me? I still have two papers to finish, and I think I just missed my Spanish class."

"Stop."

"If I miss another lesson or two, I might only get a B in Spanish. Hey, is anyone even listening to me?" Miles tapped against the energy barrier in front of him, trying to get the attention of the four people standing on the other side.

"Enough!"

Nick Fury, unable to bear the nonstop chatter any longer, finally snapped.

There was no denying it—this kid had definitely inherited Spider-Man's talkative nature.

The same relentless energy.

Hearing Fury's outburst, Miles finally paused. "You kinda sound like my uncle when you're angry."

"Who are you?" Fury cut straight to the point, unwilling to waste any more time on small talk.

Right now, what he needed to know was whether this kid could live up to the name of Spider-Man.

"Spider-Man!" Miles responded without hesitation.

Fury waved a hand, signaling the others to leave. He would handle this conversation himself.

Spider-Woman glanced at Miles but remained silent.

Fury then picked up his tablet and, with a few swipes, pulled up all the information they had on the young Spider-Man.

"Miles Morales. Enrolled this year at Brooklyn Visions Academy—honor student. Father is a police officer with the Brooklyn precinct, mother is a nurse."

His tone remained neutral as he read off the details.

Miles' eyes widened, though he knew his cover had never stood a chance against S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resources.

"Alright, you got me," he said, shrugging.

"So, how did you become Spider-Man? Or rather, who made you into one?" Fury's sharp gaze locked onto him.

The whole situation was too suspicious.

Spider-Man had just died, and now another one had suddenly appeared.

It was hard not to suspect a deeper conspiracy.

Fury preferred to believe this was some kind of divine intervention—that the world had been given another Spider-Man.

That was why he had ordered Spider-Woman to bring Miles in.

Miles opened his mouth to respond, but Fury raised a hand, signaling him to hold off.

Meanwhile, Spider-Woman had already drawn a blood sample from Miles and begun analyzing it.

"His genetic makeup is nearly identical to Peter Parker's. He was probably bitten by a spider as well."

Hearing this confirmation over his earpiece, Fury's expression softened slightly.

Still, his conversation with this new Spider-Man was far from over.

(End of Chapter)

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