Marvel: Shadow Monarch

I perched on a thick branch about twenty feet above the forest floor, studying the scene below with growing confusion.

Spider-Man had someone webbed to a tree—a man with dark hair and a metal left arm. The guy was bleeding from multiple wounds, including a nasty gash in his side that was steadily soaking through his tactical gear.

Bucky Barnes. The face was unmistakable, looking exactly like the actor from the movies I'd watched in my previous life. The metal arm confirmed it—this was definitely the Winter Soldier.

But something was very wrong with this picture.

"Let's see how you do that when I break every bone in your legs," Spider-Man said, his voice carrying a cold amusement that made my skin crawl. "I don't exactly need you walking for my experiments after all."

What the hell?

This wasn't the quip-filled, wise-cracking hero i saw in the movies. Spider-Man was supposed to be one of the good guys—the friendly neighborhood hero who saved cats from trees and stopped purse snatchers. He wasn't supposed to sound like a serial killer discussing his next victim.

My enhanced perception kicked in automatically, and I focused on the costumed figure below. The information that appeared above his head made my blood run cold.

Name: Peter Parker (Otto Octavius)

Strength: 52

Health: 58

Agility: 56

Perception: 51

Mana: 20

The bracketed name confirmed my worst suspicions. Someone else was in control of Spider-Man's body, and I had a pretty good guess who Otto Octavius was—Doctor Octopus, one of Spider-Man's most dangerous enemies.

Still, those stats weren't particularly intimidating. I was stronger than him across the board now.

But mind control meant the real Peter Parker was trapped in there somewhere. I couldn't just let this happen. He was after all one of the most likeable heroes in this world.

I needed to confirm something first though. Was this the brainwashed Winter Soldier from the movies, or was Bucky still himself? That would determine how I handled this situation.

Spider-Man raised his foot, preparing to stomp down on Bucky's legs with enough force to shatter bone. "Now, now, we're going to have a nice, long chat—"

I drew one of my new Red Fang daggers and hurled it in Spiderman's direction.

The blade whistled through the air, aimed directly at Spider-Man's center mass. His spider-sense kicked in at the last second—I could see him twitch and spin away from the trajectory. The dagger still caught him across the shoulder, opening a shallow cut through the costume before embedding itself in the tree behind him.

"Who is there!?" Spider-Man called out, his head swiveling as he searched the canopy above. "Show yourself!"

I ignored his demand and instead looked down at Bucky. I needed to know which version of him I was dealing with.

"What's Steve Rogers to you?" I called down.

Bucky's eyes found me through the branches, and I could see him evaluating whether I was friend or foe. After a moment of silence, he spoke.

"A friend."

That single word told me everything I needed to know. This wasn't the mindless assassin—this was Bucky Barnes in control of his own mind, someone who remembered his friendship with Captain America.

"Got it," I said, mostly to myself.

"Kid, you need to run!" Bucky shouted up at me, genuine concern in his voice despite his own dire situation. "Spider-Man's compromised! He's dangerous!"

"How can he run away?" the false Spider-Man said, and I could hear the smile in his voice even through the mask. "I can get one more test subject."

Test subject.

The words hit me like a physical blow, bringing back memories of months in that sterile facility, of being poked and prodded and treated like a lab rat. My hands clenched into fists, and I felt something cold and violent settle in my chest.

"Test subject, huh?" I said, my voice carrying more venom than I'd intended. "I really don't like that word."

I activated Dash and moved.

The world slowed a bit around me as I dropped from the branch, my enhanced speed turning the twenty-foot fall into a controlled descent that put me right next to Spider-Man.

I could feel his eyes go wide behind the mask as his spider-sense screamed warnings at him, but even his reflexes weren't nearly fast enough.

My fist caught him in the solar plexus with enough force to double him over, and I followed up with an uppercut that launched him backward into a tree trunk. The impact shook leaves from the branches and left a spider-web pattern of cracks in the bark.

I deliberately did not use my daggers. Mind-controlled or not, this was still Peter Parker's body, and Peter was one of the genuinely good people in this universe. I had no intention of permanently harming him if I could help it.

Spider-Man recovered, using his wall-crawling abilities to stick to the tree and launch himself back at me. His movements were fluid, but predictable. Otto, in whatever way he gained control of Peter's body wasn't used to Peter's enhanced reflexes, and there was a clear delay in his reactions.

I casually ducked under a web line aimed at my head and drove my elbow into his ribs as he passed overhead. He twisted in midair, trying to grab me with another web, but I was already elsewhere.

The fight was almost disappointingly easy—he was fast, but I was faster. He was strong, but I was stronger.

"Impossible," Spider-Man muttered as I landed another effortless hit to his shoulder. "Your speed—what are you?"

I didn't bother responding. Instead, I feinted left and came in from the right, my fist connecting with his jaw. He stumbled backward, clearly outmatched.

The fight continued for maybe thirty more seconds before I could see the desperation building in his body language. Otto wasn't used to being completely outclassed, especially not while 'being Spider-Man.'

That's when he reached for something on his web shooter and tossed it at the ground between us.

Smoke erupted from the small device, filling the immediate area with thick, gray clouds that blocked vision completely. I heard the distinctive thwip sound of web-shooters firing as Spider-Man tried to escape.

My perception helped me cut through the smoke like it wasn't even there. I could track his movement by sound and air displacement, following him as he swung between trees in what he probably thought was a stealthy retreat.

I caught up to him two trees over, appearing on his branch just as he was preparing another swing. The look of shock on his masked face was almost comical.

"Going somewhere?" I asked.

Before he could respond, I grabbed him by the front of his costume and slammed him down onto the branch hard enough to crack the wood. His head bounced off the bark, and his eyes rolled back which I could now see from the tear in his mask as consciousness fled.

I webbed Spider-Man to the branch using his own web-shooters—seemed appropriate—then dropped back down to where Bucky was still stuck to the tree.

"Kid," Bucky said weakly, his face pale from blood loss. "How did you—never mind. Can you get me out of this webbing?"

The webbing was incredibly strong, but my strength made tearing through it effortless. Bucky slumped forward as soon as he was free, his hand going to the worst of his wounds.

"You're bleeding to death," I observed, already reaching into my inventory. "Hold still."

I pulled out one of the health potions I'd received from daily quest Reward boxes, a small vial filled with red liquid that glowed with its own inner light.

"What is that?" Bucky asked, eyeing the obviously magical potion with suspicion.

"Medicine," I said simply. "Drink it."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but another wave of dizziness from blood loss convinced him to take the vial. He drank it down in one gulp, grimacing at what was probably a terrible taste.

The effect was immediate and dramatic. The gash in his side sealed itself, the smaller cuts closed, and color returned to his face. But the healing process seemed to drain what little energy he had left, and his eyes fluttered closed as unconsciousness took him.

Great. Now I've got two unconscious superheroes to deal with.

I looked up at Spider-Man, still webbed to the tree branch, then down at Bucky, who was breathing steadily but clearly out for the count.

Both of them were too important to just leave here, and I can also find how Otto gained control of Peter's body.

While none of this actually concerned me, but letting someone who was capable of doing the right thing die to someone being controlled left a sour taste.

I had no intention of playing the hero, but with my growing strength I will definitely come into conflict with forces of the Marvel Universe. So, I needed to get used to facing real opponents, and Spider-Man was a good start, even though he was weak in the grand scheme of things.

And if I can help someone, I definitely wouldn't shy away from it.

Plus, I had no information how the world was operating above the surface level shown to the civilians.

After everything that happened after the M-Day, I needed to find more information before me and Anna move from here, after all I don't really want us to be attacked by Sentinels as soon as we enter a major city just because we are mutants and Bucky might be able to help with that.

With a resigned sigh, I freed Spider-Man from the webbing and hoisted both men over my shoulders—one in a fireman's carry, the other slung across my back like a very awkward backpack. Their combined weight felt negligible.

Time to ask questions, lots of questions.

.....

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