Spider-Man: Web of Shadows

Chapter 37: Unseen Forces

The explosion had shaken the city's foundations, sending a tremor through the streets that was felt by everyone. Peter, already swinging through the night, could hear the distant echo of chaos in the air. His heart pounded in his chest, his spider-sense heightening the urgency with every passing second.

He had no clear idea what was happening, but he didn't need one. He just needed to get to the source of the explosion.

His webbing shot out, propelling him faster as he zipped between skyscrapers. The wind rushed against his face, the familiar rush of movement almost calming him—almost. He couldn't afford to let his guard down, not with the weird encounter earlier at the docks still fresh in his mind.

What was that guy? Peter thought. His senses were still on high alert. There was something about the figure, about the way he moved, that didn't sit right with him. It wasn't just a random thug or even a typical supervillain. This was something bigger. Something older.

The city below was ablaze with red and orange lights, the source of the explosion somewhere in the heart of the financial district. Peter's web-slinging became more frantic, his thoughts scrambling to piece together the puzzle.

As he approached the wreckage, he saw the familiar signs of destruction—twisted metal, shattered glass, and a massive crater in the middle of the street. But there was something new too. The chaos wasn't just from the blast. There were figures moving in the shadows, figures that seemed to be coming from nowhere, disappearing as quickly as they appeared.

Peter landed on a nearby rooftop, his eyes scanning the wreckage. His spider-sense flared, warning him of danger. His instincts kicked in just as one of the figures lunged at him from the darkness, a blur of motion that barely registered to his eyes before it collided with him.

"Gotcha!" the figure snarled, its voice low and menacing.

Peter spun in mid-air, using the momentum to land a quick punch to the attacker's face, but the figure was gone, disappearing like a wisp of smoke before Peter could react. He quickly turned around, his senses on high alert. There was more than one of them, and they were faster than anything he had faced before.

The next figure appeared, seemingly materializing out of thin air. Peter wasn't ready for it, and it landed a blow to his side that sent him sprawling across the rooftop.

"What the hell is this?" Peter muttered, quickly recovering and flipping back to his feet.

The figure that had attacked him was tall and cloaked, with glowing eyes and an aura of pure malevolence. But as the figure moved into the light, Peter's heart skipped a beat. It wasn't human.

It was a creature made of shadow—its form shifting and flickering like smoke, its eyes burning with an unnatural light. It looked like something born of the dark itself.

"You're Spider-Man," the creature said, its voice rasping, like it had been dragged through the depths of some long-forgotten abyss. "You will serve the master."

Peter's fists clenched. Serve the master? His mind raced, but before he could react, another shadowy figure appeared, this one taller and more imposing. This one wore armor, dark and jagged, with strange symbols etched into its surface.

Peter's spider-sense screamed again, but it was too late. The armored figure lunged, its movements almost too quick to follow. Peter narrowly dodged, but not without feeling the rush of air as the figure's blade scraped across his suit. He barely had time to recover before the creature vanished, only to reappear beside him, slashing down with its sword again.

"Enough!" Peter shouted, summoning all his strength to push the creature away, using his webs to bind it to the ground for just a moment. His mind was racing, but he needed answers. Who are these things? What do they want with me?

Before he could continue his thought, a new figure emerged from the darkness, more human than the others, but still just as dangerous. The man had a commanding presence, with a cold, calculating look in his eyes. He wore a long coat and dark sunglasses, and there was something unnerving about the way he moved. It was almost like he wasn't entirely there, as though his existence was somehow… incomplete.

"You've fought well, Spider-Man," the man said, his voice smooth but sinister. "But you're too late. The war is already upon you."

Peter's brow furrowed. "War? What are you talking about?"

The man stepped closer, his expression a mixture of amusement and disdain. "You'll learn soon enough. We are the Harbingers of the Void, and we've come to take what is ours."

The name hit Peter like a ton of bricks. Harbingers of the Void. He'd heard rumors, legends really, about an ancient force that had been sealed away long ago—beings who lived in the dark corners of the universe, waiting for the right moment to return. Peter didn't know all the details, but he knew enough to understand one thing: these creatures were not ordinary enemies. They were ancient. They were powerful. And they had an agenda.

"You're insane," Peter shot back, his voice laced with anger. "I'm not letting you take anything."

The Harbinger smirked, clearly entertained by Peter's defiance. "You have no choice, Spider-Man. You're a small piece in a much bigger game. We'll see how long you last before you break."

With a flick of his wrist, the figure summoned another wave of shadowy creatures, each one moving faster than the last. Peter's mind raced.