Reborn as the Spider who bit Peter Parker

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***

A figure in an unmarked coal-black overcoat stood in front of the blazing TV centre. A mad smile on the pyromancer's face made it clear that he was not going to give up. Lighting a homemade joint against the burning door of the once majestic and ungodly expensive wood, the pyrokinetic took a sweet drag. Letting out a snow-white cloud of smoke in the direction of the gloomy city, he smiled again, showing the world his teeth, tarnished yellow from cigarettes. Noting that the bastard's fingertips also had traces of nicotine, I spat irritably, and the bastard didn't die of lung cancer. I'll find a place on the operating table for you, too, and you'll be the envy of the dead. So you'll have to answer for the lads, unless you die before your time, but as a doctor I'll try to keep you alive so you suffer longer.

- Why are you so serious? - The pyrokinetic asks snidely, taking another puff. - Look how beautiful it is! - he said philosophically, vaguely circling the flaming buildings with his hand. - I love the smell of napalm in the morning...' the pyromancer continued. - Why are you so sour? Has someone offended you? Or missing your mates? - The bastard smiled crookedly and immediately went into a fit of hissing laughter.

I mechanically raised my RPK and fired a generous line at the asshole almost at point-blank range.

But what was my surprise when he just snapped his fingers, creating a wall of blinding white light ahead of him. Another snap, and the unharmed pyrokinetic still grinned at me, looking me straight in the eye. I spat in contempt and stepped back a few metres, so as not to get fried myself. The enemy, on the other hand, seemed to be amused, and after a few seconds, he leaned against the wall, pulling out one of our plasma rifles. Another moment and he opened fire. Accelerating like a hare, I found myself behind the dense wall of one of the best surviving houses. How am I supposed to put this bastard down without burning my own skin?

- Don't worry, I just like fire, and if you've hired a mage, you'll be expecting fires. - The pyromancer spoke again. - That's the lot of all Kamar-Taj mercenaries. So you'd better come out yourself and I'll burn you right away almost painlessly, otherwise we'll play another game with you. - said the pyrokinetic taking another puff.

Mage? I tried to understand the words of this psycho. And was he a psycho? After all, if there are mutants and other not very scientific nonsense, why can't there be magic? It's curious, even if it complicates the task a little. But at the same time, it opens up a lot of possibilities. A whole Klondike for discoveries and unploughed field for new work and various discoveries. However, first we need to get rid of this firebrand. Having listened and roughly estimated where he's coming from, I stick out from behind the wall for a moment and let out a stingy line from the RPK in the direction of the mage.

- This rarity won't help you... - the pyromancer grinned, taking a puff. - The joint is out, and that means what? The time for negotiation is over. - The mage hissed, releasing a sea of blue flame, but I had already safely retreated to the opposite building while he was demagoguing.

I put aside my now useless weapon and at the maximum speed for a human brain I was calculating all possible options. That's how I came up with the original, reckless and 'slightly' suicidal idea. Bringing the nanites to peak power, I used to use them to strengthen the body, because with such an opponent you can become a baked lizard, so the defence will not hurt.

I accelerated instantly, noting that he'd figured me out and immediately poured green fire into the corner where I'd been hiding.

What a walking flamethrower! Deftly jumping away from the nearest wall, I turn around and make a sudden dash to strike the mage on the jaw with my foot. Then a powerful jab to consolidate the result and so that he did not have time to respond with magic. A moment and the nanites on my right hand gather into dagger-sharp claws. A stingy strike and I pierce the mage's chest, mentally noting the surprise in his eyes.

- Good move reptilian...' the pyromancer spat blood under his feet. - But I refuse to be defeated. - He hissed as he jerked free of my claws. - I'm not used to dying. - A crazed smile once again framed his marble-pale skin. - So do me a favour and die yourself. - Spitting blood, the pyrokinetic instantly cauterised the wound with his own flame.

A soft snap of his fingers and the snow-white flames gathered into the blazing figure of a fire elemental. The mage's quiet laughter spread around, another click, but from my side, and a single shot interrupted this parade of madness and chaotic flames. Silently putting the colt back into its holster, I spat contemptuously at the pyrokinetic's face, which had a slightly mad smile on it. Stepping over the mage's corpse, I quickly found the bodies of the Alpha team members who had been burned to the ground. Apparently, he had killed them with a single wave of pure flame. However, if I didn't know he was a pyromancer, it would have been a deadly unpleasant surprise for me.

- Sleep well, brothers, you've been avenged...' I said tiredly to nowhere, still pensive against the nearest wall. - We'll all be there. So I'll see you soon! - I whispered melancholically, taking a greedy sip from my flask.

After standing like that for a couple of minutes, I leisurely wandered back towards the column, where the soldiers were already finishing first aid to all the wounded and 'mercy' to the enemies. That's how war is and it doesn't matter whether it's in the city or on the front line. Ten minutes later our reinforcements arrived on light buggies, and in another hour we had completely cleaned up the slums of the city. Every life will be on my hands, because all these are the fruits of my mistakes, failures and not too good decisions. However, I'm always used to facing difficulties and accepting 'losses' as a field medic, so I have no regrets. Of course, we could have done with a little blood, but the price for speed of advance is always the lives of comrades and there is nothing we can do about it. But we will take this city before dawn, and our brothers will be smiling in the sky at the sight of the heat we will give to all the sectarians and other scum.

- Bravo Group is on you to secure the material and cordon off the TV centre. - immediately gave orders over the radio silently settled on the surviving armour.

Having cleared the way, we went further into the city. Confidently moving through the scorched streets, I habitually noted how many things were destroyed. But the thought that soon I would be 'studying' the mages calmed me a little, even if the price was too high, but the secret of magic was worth it, and if we combine scientific progress with their 'sorcery', then something curious might come out. Maybe I could find some more 'material' for my research? However, it can't be that lucky. On the other hand, first I need to make a full analysis and confirm that he is not a mutant, and there are not many crazy people in the world. And we should find out about the Qamar Taj, too. Are they terrorists? Or did the pyrokinetic invent them himself? There's so much to do, but first, we've got to get our city back!

Taking the tactical tablet in hand and making sure the last parcel had arrived at the camp, I nodded laconically to my thoughts. After another five minutes, the combat drones were ready for launch and I was habitually making adjustments, prioritising the targets. Now we finally had air support, and the storm was still complicating our sweep, but these little guys had integrated thermal imaging and Ozcorp's good recognition system, so it would go a little faster to retake the city. As I finished setting up, I immediately saw one of the heavy drones fly over my head. The drones were now scouting and scanning the area for warm-blooded creatures and working machinery, becoming second eyes for our convoy. If they had arrived an hour earlier, it would have saved a lot of lives of our fighters, but what's done is done. Noting suspicious activity among the nearby ruins through the drone's viewfinder, I thoughtfully sent a vacuum missile that literally annihilated the concrete hulk of the old building.

After cleaning up a couple of three more of the same suspicious places, we finally found ourselves in the shopping district. It looked even worse than the ghetto, but then again, arson and looting don't add much beauty to any city. Everything that could be taken out had been safely taken out, and what couldn't be taken out, they burned. It's human nature, not to eat, but to bite! I have always been sickened by such irrationality, because in the end all this will be restored for your taxes and it does not matter how much you have managed to loot or burn, the people will still pay. However, few people understand this kind of thing, because it should be in the culture, but few people have it even among Europeans. Blue blood, white bone! Nonsense. We are barbarians like everyone else. Empires die, nations wither and are replaced by others. Everything is cyclical, but when these savages become part of an enlightened civilisation, only Lovecraft knows.

Having sipped from a flask of chemistry, I noticed how we had passed a landfill, or rather I should say, I heard it and felt it in one place, when I was thrown away again by the blast wave. However, the nanites habitually cushioned the fall, and I didn't break anything. I glanced up at the roof, where a small boy was already dropping an RPG and it hit the vehicle's tank. I cursed and massaged my temples tiredly. What a day today. The third car is in pieces! Some more mages and just crazy fanatics that quietly do not let us return the city under our authority. Having collected the wounded and called the 'funeral brigade', I silently picked up a slightly melted tablet from the ground and jumped on the buggy. Having reconfigured the drones and widened the search area, I reluctantly gave the order to move on. There was still a bank alley ahead, which actually served as our main target. The central bank was an important place whose safe deposit boxes the king himself couldn't get into, but we would change that today. In the bank vaults there is a lot of dirt on people who 'helped' this or that faction financially, informationally or otherwise. Now I'm not going to play Democrat, I'm just going to collect the evidence and shoot the bastards under legal wartime law.

They think that since their puppets are not connected to them in any way, they can't be tampered with, but they're wrong and that's to my advantage. Maybe nobody would care about eliminating my enemies, but I'm used to doing everything according to the law, even if it's my own. And so my conscience will sleep well and my principles will remain inviolable. I don't care about people and their society, but I'm not used to change, so I'll do it my way.

Obeying my order, the buggy accelerated sharply, and we finally left the dreary and completely burnt-out shopping district. There was no smell of burning, no smell of burnt houses in the banking alley, and everything looked almost decent, and if I hadn't known what horror was going on in the city, I would have been fooled by this illusory prosperity and gloom of tranquillity. The banking sector has always been inherently completely autonomous from the kingdom, and at times it was unclear for whose benefit the whole financial machine was working. Since the central bank had extensive rights since the French colony in the region, it was bloody messy and complicated, and one important thing to remember is that all these rights and privileges were backed by France. Ridiculous, isn't it? All political 'opponents' and other marginal personalities felt themselves perfectly well in a cosy 'fortress' apparently by some mistake called a bank, there was no access to the police and the authorities in general. The bank quarter had diplomatic status and good security from mercenaries of the foreign legion that were queuing up to serve in these parts. However, this played a cruel joke on them. As we managed to find out, most of the legionnaires were in the centre of the city when it all started and they were not lucky enough to run into the radical fanatics who were against foreign influence, supporting the ideas of isolationism. So the brave mercenaries who wanted to get French citizenship were simply torn apart....

However, some of the guards and the remaining legionnaires were still a force to be reckoned with, which is probably why it's quiet. I may need to break into the vault of the central bank, but I wouldn't want to kill my comrades in the trade. On the other hand, there is such a word as 'I have to', so we'll see the situation. As I walked pensively along all the rooftops of the bank alley, I noticed some skittish shadows moving around the buildings. Who the hell are these ninjas? Sending the drones forward, I noticed a blurred silhouette suddenly straighten up to its full height and carefully pull something out of its backpack. A couple of seconds and an unknown pulse burns out all the electronics on the block. An EMP emitter? That's interesting. The drones instantly collapsed to the ground, and I tossed the now useless tablet aside. Well, the music didn't last long. What's the point of these 'birds' if 'everyone' can switch them off? Grumbling to myself, I picked up my plasma rifle and jumped out of the buggy.

- Identify yourselves, or you will be destroyed by the law of war time as looters... - I growled menacingly in the direction of silhouettes, even if they were probably bank guards or legionnaires, but it's still worth trying to negotiate. - Leave the Peace Quarter and we won't shoot, we don't care about the mercenaries who fulfilled their contract. Surrender the bank and you can go in peace. - At the last word, I noticed that the silhouettes on the roof only got bigger.

A minute later, the massive doors of the central bank suddenly opened, and a group of people in suits appeared, among them were guards and bank employees, because no one wanted to die. With their hands raised people began to slowly leave the bank building, but don't forget about those silhouettes on the roof. As soon as the employees left the building, the doors behind them suddenly slammed shut, and a Belgian FN Minimi machine gun appeared from the window of the neighbouring building. A generous burst immediately sent a bunch of people walking to their deaths. What the hell is going on here? Following from the shadows came some tall mercenary that stood next to an EMP emitter.

- Curva. You better get out of our neighbourhood, or you won't be able to pick up any bones. And please take this rubbish. - The mercenary snorted contemptuously in the direction of the corpses and immediately went into the shadows.

Who are these sick bastards? They shot civilians. And they're not going to give up the bank, who the hell are they? Legionnaires? Just mercenaries? Or someone else? As I caught on to the unusual word, I immediately remembered that's what the Serbs used to call our guys. I think it translates to penguin? Then I don't understand what these mercenaries are after. On the other hand, they may work for the bank's governing board and have orders for emergency 'measures', but shooting their own personnel who tried to surrender? Sick bastards. They shouldn't be released now, because such jackals should be killed on the spot.

- You've signed your own death warrant...' I said tiredly, immediately sending a vacuum grenade flying.