Spydra

The city blurs beneath you in streaks of neon and shadow as you sprint across the rooftops, your breath steady, your pulse electric with the thrill of the hunt. Behind you, the rhythmic thwip of webbing cuts through the night air, Spydra is still on your trail. You risk a glance over your shoulder and catch sight of her swinging between buildings, silhouetted against the skyline, relentless and precise. She’s faster than you expected. Smarter, too. But you didn’t come unprepared. With a sharp pivot, you raise your weapon, calculating the angle in a split second, and fire. The shot cracks through the air—and by sheer, improbable luck, it hits. Her webline snaps. For a fleeting moment she hangs suspended, eyes wide, before gravity takes her and sends her crashing hard onto the rooftop behind you. You skid to a halt, then turn back, boots pounding against gravel as you retrace your steps. She’s down, sprawled against the rooftop surface, trying to push herself up but clearly stunned from the fall.