Duncan strolled through the chaotic streets of Manhattan, lost in thought. His sharp attire—grey suit pants, a crisp blue dress shirt, a neatly knotted tie, and the unmistakable wide-brimmed cowboy hat—set him apart from the rushing tide of city dwellers. He looked as if he had stepped straight off the set of an old Dallas episode.

  The city around him pulsed with its usual energy—horns blaring, taxi drivers cursing, steam rising from subway grates—but something was different. Something was wrong. His wandering thoughts were yanked back into focus by the sound of heavy thuds, screeching tires, and the unmistakable wail of car alarms. The disruption echoed down the avenue, drawing a wave of spectators toward a heavily barricaded street corner. The flashing reds and blues of NYPD Ford Interceptors painted the scene in strobing chaos as officers worked to contain the scene.

  "Stay behind the line!" One of the officers shouted, he had his right hand hoveing over his holster.

  "Back up, Guys! Behind the line!" An older officer spoke, his tone was more forgiving than his younger counterpart.

  Uniformed officers, hands on their belts, held back the surging crowd, their voices barely cutting through the noise. Duncan stopped just short of the police perimeter, his sharp gaze scanning past the gathered civilians to the heart of the commotion. The barricade marked the boundary between order and destruction, and beyond it, the city had turned into a battleground.

  A grizzled old man in a ragged bomber jacket shook a frustrated fist at a fresh-faced rookie. "Why aren't you doing anything? You’re cops, don’tcha? Ain’t this why they call you New York’s finest?! FINEST MY ASS!"

  The young officer stammered, uncertain how to answer, before an older, burly sergeant stepped in. The man, a textbook Italian-American New Yorker with no patience for nonsense, scoffed and waved the old man off.

  "Listen here, ya old brolic, why don’t ya let us boys in blue do our job, huh? I’m two weeks from retirement, and I ain’t lookin’ to spend ‘em gettin’ stomped by an overgrown zoo escapee. Here—" He fished a crumpled five-dollar bill from his pocket and shoved it into the man’s hand. "Get a cab, go home, and watch it on the news, old-timer."

  The old man took the wrinkled bill and stuffed in his pocket as he took his turn to leave. "Disgraceful" He muttered.

  Duncan barely registered the exchange. His eyes were fixed on the source of the chaos. As the crowd shifted, he caught sight of the monstrous form causing the havoc—a hulking figure, broad as a truck and clad in an armored, grey hide-like suit. It was Rhino. The infamous brute had intercepted an armored truck, tearing into it like a can of tuna. He was pissed, his massive frame towering over the flipped vehicle as he bellowed in frustration.

  And across from him, moving with effortless agility, was a lithe figure in red and blue—Spider-Man.

  Duncan had seen images of the hero before, but something was different about the suit. The red was darker, richer, like dried blood rather than bright crimson. The blue sections had taken on a shadowy navy tone, almost black under the city’s artificial lights. Thin white and black lines traced the contours of his uniform, accentuating the lean, athletic build beneath. His lenses, typically wide and expressive, had a sharper, more tactical look to them now. The suit was modern, reinforced, designed for more than just flair—it looked battle-ready.

  Duncan muttered under his breath. "So this must be the Spider-Guy."

  He moved forward, pushing past the bystanders and stepping up to the police line.

  "Hey! Midnight Cowboy, this is a police perimeter—don’t cross!" one of the officers barked.

  "Midnight Cowboy?" Duncan arched a brow under his hat. "The hell kinda name is that? I ain’t no man-whore." He immediately picked up on the reference of the policeman.

  The officer smirked. "Relax, Tex, it’s a joke. Point is, if you cross that line, you’re gonna get yourself killed."

  Duncan adjusted his hat. "I ain't so sure ‘bout that, partner."

  The sergeant scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "Forget it, boys. Just let the idiot pass. Must be his first time in the big city if he’s out here lookin’ that ridiculous."

  Ignoring the warnings, Duncan stepped forward, his boots clicking against the pavement as he approached the unfolding battle. His presence barely registered against the backdrop of destruction.

  Spider-Man danced around Rhino’s massive swings, flipping and weaving through the air with practiced ease.

  "Rhino, bro! Just let me do my job!" Spidey quipped, narrowly avoiding a chunk of pavement the brute ripped from the street. "You are the rudest animal I’ve ever met, and I’ve been in a subway car with a raccoon before!"

  "SHUT UP, BUG! THIS SCORE IS MINE!" Rhino roared, his deep voice vibrating the air around them.

  "Bro, listen, I get it. Times are tough. Maybe try not destroying the city, though? Just a thought!"

  "LIKE A JOB CAN EVEN PAY MY RENT!" Rhino said, his voice was more scoffing than a genuine concern for his cost of living. He threw a hot dog cart at the neighborhood friendly spider.

  "Okay, relatable, but this ain’t the way, my guy!" Spider-Man swung back and made a hammock of webs, where the cart gently landed avoiding hitting a window.

  Duncan finally stepped into the hero’s line of sight. His brown eyes scanning around the scene, his arms crossed.

  Spidey froze mid-quip. "TEX! Get back behind the line!" His lenses widdened in shock, this was more headache to his ever increasing list of troubles.

  "Ya’re Spider-Man." Duncan said, his eyes narrowing.

  Spidey sighed. "Okay, look, if this is about pictures, we can take a selfie after I don’t get pancaked." Spidey's tone while lighthearted spewed his on concerns for the civilian's safety.

  "Oh, no. I’m here to help." Duncan said, but his certainty wasn't fully there.

  Spidey blinked behind the mask. "Bro… this is Rhino. Guns don’t work on him, Clint Eastwood."

  Rhino turned, finally noticing the cowboy. "Wanna play hero, little man?!"

  With a guttural roar, the behemoth charged. Duncan didn’t flinch. As Rhino swung a massive fist, Duncan sidestepped at the last possible moment, a blue blur in a sonic dash.

  BOOM!

  The concrete cracked where Duncan had stood. Before Rhino could recover, Duncan raised a hand—his fingers curling into the shape of an old-fashioned revolver. A flash of blue plasma erupted from the tip of his index finger, slamming into Rhino’s chest with a burning CRACK.

  Rhino staggered back, clutching his chest, smoke rising from the impact. His face twisted in pain.

  Spidey landed lightly beside Duncan, eyes wide behind his mask. "Holy crap… you’re that Texas guy!"

  Duncan smirked, tipping his white hat. "Yup. The Alamo."

  Spidey gave an approving nod. "Nice. Welcome to New York, man. What are you doing here?"

  "Just came to buy a supersuit." He dusted his shoulder, concrete dust all over his once pristine shirt.

  Spidey tilted his head. "Leo’s?"

  "Leo’s." Duncan added in quiet confidence.

  "Solid choice. Guy does great work." Spider-Man even raised a thumb in approval, he knew Leo's work, because he was wearing it right now.

  Their conversation was cut short as Rhino let out another enraged roar, pounding the ground.

  Duncan tipped his hat again. "Mind if I join in?"

  Spidey cracked his knuckles. "Well, I was gonna solo this, but hey—just don’t die on me, alright? I promised my girlfriend a nice takeout night."

  Duncan smirked. "Acknowledged."

  The streets of Manhattan were no stranger to chaos, but tonight, it had escalated to a full-blown battlefield. With flashing police lights painting the asphalt in streaks of red and blue, sirens wailing, and civilians gasping in terror, it was just another day in the life of a superhero. But for Duncan—The Alamo—this was a whole different ball game.

  Rhino let out a guttural roar, his massive legs pounding against the cracked pavement as he sprinted toward them like a freight train with no brakes. The ground shook beneath his monstrous charge, car alarms blaring as he barreled forward with pure, unchecked fury. The very air seemed to warp around his speed, and for a moment, it looked as if nothing could stop him.

  But Alamo wasn’t about to just stand there.

  With a single, controlled burst of energy, Alamo shot skyward, his plasma thrusters igniting beneath his boots as he rocketed into the air. His cowboy hat remained miraculously in place, held down by a subtle energy field he had trained himself to generate. From his elevated position, he zeroed in on Rhino’s trajectory, eyes locked on the brute’s weak points.

  Then, like a javelin missile zeroing in on its target, he shot downward at blinding speed.

  He crashed into Rhino mid-sprint, grabbing hold of the villain’s armor with fingers that tore through the metal plating like wet cardboard. Sparks flew as his hands dug into the suit’s reinforced surface, the sheer force of his descent bringing the rampaging beast to a grinding halt. The impact sent cracks splintering through the pavement beneath them.

  “Buddy,” Alamo drawled, holding firm as Rhino struggled beneath him, “ya should really leave people alone, y’know.”

  Rhino snarled, his massive arms flexing as he swung a meaty fist the size of a wrecking ball at Duncan’s head. But Alamo was faster. He caught the punch mid-swing, gripping Rhino’s enormous fist in his own.

  "Look, this is just wrong," he continued, his voice almost calm despite the raw power radiating from his grip. "These guys are just tryin' to do their job. Maybe, just maybe—"

  Before he could finish, pain exploded in his stomach.

  Rhino’s free hand plowed into his gut, the sheer force knocking the air from his lungs. The unexpected blow sent Duncan reeling, forcing him to release his grip on Rhino’s fist. His body folded slightly from the impact, and for a split second, he lost focus.

  That was all Rhino needed.

  With a savage grin, the behemoth snatched Duncan by the legs and swung him downward with bone-crushing force. The cowboy barely had time to react before he was slammed into the pavement, the shockwave rippling through the ground like a miniature earthquake. The street beneath them cracked open from the sheer weight of the impact.

  Rhino wasted no time. Using his full bulk, he leaped into the air, his massive feet aimed directly at Duncan’s chest.

  Boom!

  The moment his colossal weight came crashing down, Duncan barely managed to cross his arms in front of him for protection. Even so, the sheer pressure pressed him into the broken asphalt, his arms shaking from the effort of holding Rhino off. It was like trying to bench press a train mid-crash.

  And then—whip!

  Just as Rhino prepared to grind Duncan further into the pavement, a single, well-aimed web-line latched onto his leg.

  “Hey, Big Guy!” Spider-Man’s voice rang out as he yanked Rhino’s foot out from under him. The villain let out a confused grunt before his world tilted. With a heavy thud, he face-planted straight into the cracked street.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Duncan coughed, his ears ringing from the brutal exchange. His muscles ached, and there was a sharp—but quick—pain in his ribs. He wasn’t dead, but an average person would’ve been turned into mist by those punches alone.

  “Dude, are you okay?” Spider-Man landed beside him, crouching low.

  Duncan groaned as he pushed himself up, brushing the dust from his ruined dress shirt. He spotted his cowboy hat lying nearby, half-buried in debris. Reaching for it, he dusted it off before setting it back on his head.

  "Holy shit," he muttered, cracking his neck. "This Rhino guy is really strong.”

  Spider-Man sighed. “Bro. First lesson of the job—never underestimate a villain. I see you got some cool powers, but don’t play with these guys. They’re dead serious. If they get the chance? They’ll kill you.”

  Duncan straightened his hat. “Understood.”

  Rhino, meanwhile, roared in frustration, tearing through the webbing that had momentarily restrained him.

  Spidey winced. “Welp. That was short-lived.”

  "You alright?" Alamo asked.

  "Yeah, yeah, I'm dandy."

  With that, Alamo sprang back into action, raising his hands and firing off a volley of five rapid plasma bolts. The glowing blue shots struck Rhino’s back in quick succession, each one searing into his armor with precise, calculated impact.

  "Just give up, Rhino," Alamo called out. "Ya’re—"

  Before he could finish, Rhino grabbed hold of one of Spider-Man’s web-lines, yanked hard, and launched the hero straight at Alamo.

  “Oh come on!” Spidey yelped as he sailed through the air.

  Thinking fast, Duncan caught the web-slinger mid-flight, steadying them both before setting him down.

  Spider-Man groaned, dusting himself off. “Okay, second lesson—don’t monologue. Usually, we kinda listen to the villains’ monologues, but they don’t return the favor.”

  "Dang it," Duncan muttered, rubbing his temples. "This is the second time I made that mistake."

  "Don't make it a third," Spidey shot back. "Now, here’s the plan, Tex. We’ll lure him—"

  Before he could finish, Rhino leaped toward them, his full weight crashing forward like a wrecking ball of muscle and rage.

  Alamo reacted instantly. With a single, devastating punch to Rhino’s gut, he sent the beast flying backward. The impact dented Rhino’s armor, leaving a gaping hole in the plating as the villain was launched across the street.

  Rhino’s trajectory ended with a catastrophic crash into a nearby storefront. Glass shattered, bricks crumbled, and debris rained down as the building’s structure groaned in protest.

  Spidey winced. “Oof. Damage Control is gonna love that. The people? Not so much.”

  Alamo flexed his fingers. “That wasn’t even plasma charged.”

  “Dude, focus. Try not to destroy the neighborhood. Insurance companies go haywire when it comes to superhero fights, and without the right claims, Damage Control only covers public utilities.”

  “Oh, trust me, I know that. I used to assess creditworthiness for Damage Control-certified buildings all the time.”

  Spider-Man’s head snapped toward him. “Wait. You were a banker?”

  "Yup. Investment banker. Was," Duncan admitted. "Mostly an economist, though."

  “That’s wild. Never heard of an economist becoming a superhero before.”

  Alamo chuckled. "I reckon I haven't done much to be a hero just yet."

  Spidey cracked his knuckles. “Then let’s go change that right now.”

  Rhino charged again... this time with even more determination. His massive form in that grey armor he wore making small cracks on the pavement, his eyes furrowed in anger as he sprinted towards Spider-Man and Alamo.

  The battle was far from over. The moment Rhino’s armored form crashed into the storefront, a deep, guttural hiss escaped from his suit, followed by steam venting from the exposed gap in his belly plating. The ground beneath him was littered with shattered bricks, broken glass, and mangled steel from what had once been a perfectly respectable corner store. His massive, barrel-like chest rose and fell with labored breaths, but his rage had not been tempered. If anything, it had multiplied.

  From within the cracked plating of his suit, a terrifying, almost animalistic growl rumbled through the night air.

  And then—

  "I WILL KILL YOU!"

  Alamo exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "This guy just can’t stand down."

  Spidey landed lightly beside him, giving a quick stretch before cracking his knuckles. "Oh yeah, I get that a lot."

  Alamo adjusted his hat. "What is this guy, anyway?"

  Spidey rolled his shoulders. "Oh, you know—former KGB experiment, Russian Mafia, Spetsnaz."

  Alamo’s red glowing eyes flicked back to Rhino, who was already hauling himself to his feet. The brute’s exposed torso gleamed red from the earlier impact, a grisly mix of bruises and swelling muscle. But it was his sheer size that really sank in now that part of his armor had been destroyed.

  "Well, that explains it."

  Rhino charged again. His gaping wound in the suit didn’t slow him down at all. If anything, he seemed to have more power, fueled by pure rage as he sprinted toward them. His sheer mass should have made him slower, but he wasn't. The man moved like a tank with rocket boosters.

  Alamo barely had time to mutter, "He’s massive. I thought it was just the armor."

  "Oh no, he's pretty big," Spidey quipped. "Also—watch out!"

  Without hesitation, Alamo launched himself into the sky as Spidey flipped backward, shooting a precise web-line that latched onto Rhino’s exposed back. With a hard pull, Spidey redirected his momentum, slamming the brute face-first into the pavement.

  Rhino let out an enraged roar, his fists pounding the ground with enough force to send spiderweb cracks through the asphalt.

  Spider-Man didn’t waste time, webbing both of his fists in an attempt to pin them down. "Okay, just stay right there, big guy—no one needs to get pancaked tonight."

  But Rhino was too strong. With a single flex of his arms, he ripped through the webbing, sending sticky strands flying in every direction. The fibers snapped like rubber bands stretched beyond their limit.

  Spidey groaned. "You're no fun, Alex."

  "DO NOT SPEAK TO ME, BUG!" Rhino bellowed, his voice like rolling thunder. "I JUST WANTED THE CASH! YOU RUINED ME!"

  "Dude, just get a job!" Spidey shot back. "I dunno, maybe… construction? You could be really useful, Alex!"

  "SHUT UP! DIE SPIDER!"

  Alamo landed smoothly beside Spidey, arms crossed. "What a bum."

  "Seriously." Spidey dodged another wild swing, flipping over Rhino's head. "Got any bright ideas, cowboy?"

  "I got a plan."

  "Any time now, bro!" Spidey grunted as he barely managed to dodge another ground-shattering punch.

  "Try to pin his whole body to the ground."

  "I'm trying—he kinda hates me right now."

  "Hands and legs. Trust me."

  Spidey didn’t hesitate. "Got it."

  With rapid precision, Spider-Man fired multiple web-lines, layering thick strands over Rhino’s arms, wrists, thighs, and legs. The brute fought against it, his muscles bulging as he struggled to free himself—but Spidey was faster. The sticky fibers built up layer after layer until Rhino was effectively mummified against the cracked pavement.

  "Okay," Spidey panted. "What now?"

  Alamo cracked his knuckles, his hands already glowing with a bright, swirling blue light. "Let’s see how long he lasts without that ultramarine get-up."

  With a sharp whoosh, he took to the air, his energy trailing behind him like the Aurora Borealis, but in a rich electric blue. As he arced downward, his plasma-infused hands ignited, glowing even brighter as he grabbed hold of Rhino’s back plating.

  The instant his fingers touched the armor, the suit reacted—its energy core flickering wildly as Alamo's power began interfering with it.

  "What are you doing?!" Spidey asked, holding Rhino down.

  Alamo clenched his fist. "Stealin’ a bit of energy… I was between that and an EMP, but this works fine."

  "Wait—you’re sucking his energy?"

  "His armor’s energy—shit, this isn’t a good idea."

  "Why not?!" Spidey’s eyes widened as Rhino struggled even harder beneath them.

  "If I take too much, I might… well, blow somethin’ up. And not in a fun way."

  "Then what’s the plan now, genius?"

  Alamo exhaled sharply. "I have an idea."

  The energy surged through him. His bones glowed beneath his skin, an eerie, pulsating blue light tracing his veins like electric currents. His hands trembled from the sheer power coursing through him.

  "Woah," Spidey murmured.

  Alamo gritted his teeth, then yanked—

  With a final, bone-snapping pull, he ripped Rhino free from his armor. The sound of tearing metal and cracking bone filled the air as Aleksei Sytsevich—now stripped of his mechanical shell—was torn from the suit like a sardine from its can.

  Rhino screamed in agony as his collarbone snapped, his massive, actual body rolling onto the pavement. He was still huge—still terrifying—but without his armor, he was weakened.

  "Hold him, Spidey!" Alamo called, stepping back.

  Spider-Man wasted no time. He shot multiple web-lines, wrapping the now-weakened Aleksei in thick layers of reinforced webbing, keeping him completely immobilized.

  Alamo, meanwhile, wasn’t done yet.

  He turned back to the hollow armor. Sparks fizzled from the wrecked suit, its internal systems flickering wildly. With one final charge, he placed his glowing hand on the metal surface, sending a controlled surge of plasma energy into the core.

  The reaction was instant.

  The suit’s remaining lights flashed one final time before——a mini-EMP pulse exploded outward. The entire street went dark as the pulse disabled nearby streetlights, fried electronics, and sent parked cars into a frenzy of blaring alarms.

  But that wasn’t all. A final wave of residual heat erupted from the armor, melting parts of the suit down to slag.

  Spidey winced. "Man, you're burning up!"

  Duncan stumbled backward, his hands now glowing blindingly bright—so bright that the pavement beneath them started to scorch.

  Then, with a heavy exhale, he collapsed onto the ground.

  "Alamo! Are you okay?!" Spidey crouched beside him.

  Duncan groaned, barely lifting a hand. "Just… lemme lie here for a moment."

  "You and me then Big boy" Spidey-Man cracking his knuckles.

  Aleksei Sytsevich—The Rhino—was still a force to be reckoned with, even without his armor. His sheer size and raw power weren’t just a product of the suit. He was a mutate of muscle and rage, the result of years of brutal experiments and genetic augmentation. Stripped of his mechanical shell, his skin gleamed with sweat beneath the cold glow of city lights, his grotesquely thick muscles flexing with every movement. A beast of a man, still standing despite the brutal punishment he had taken.

  Spider-Man landed in a crouch a few feet away, breathing heavily. The webs he had used to restrain Aleksei had already begun to snap, straining against the villain’s sheer brute strength.

  And then—it happened.

  With a guttural growl, Rhino yanked his arms free of the sticky restraints, strands of webbing tearing apart like overused duct tape. His chest heaved as he reached down to his side and—somehow—pulled out a knife. A gleaming, wicked blade, reflecting the broken neon signs around them.

  Spidey froze. His masked lenses widened.

  "Oh, I definitely don’t wanna get touched by that." He bounced lightly on his heels, hands raised defensively. "Where the hell have you been hiding that? That did not come from a safe space."

  Rhino’s lips twisted into a grin, his yellowed teeth bared like a cornered animal.

  "Time to die, Spider-Man."

  Without hesitation, Rhino lunged.

  Spider-Man ducked, narrowly avoiding the slashing arc of the knife as it whistled through the air, missing his chest by mere inches. He twisted his body, shifting his weight as he countered with a precise kick to Aleksei’s ribs. The impact sent a shockwave up Spidey’s leg—but Rhino barely staggered.

  Aleksei roared and swung again.

  Spidey dodged left, flipping over the brute’s next attack, then countered with a web-line. The silk wrapped around Rhino’s thick wrist, but before Spidey could pull him off balance, Rhino grabbed the web instead.

  "Oh—"

  With one savage yank, Rhino swung Spider-Man through the air like a ragdoll and slammed him into a crumbling brick wall.

  BOOM!

  Pain exploded through Spidey’s back. His vision blurred for a moment as dust and shattered mortar rained down around him. He groaned, slumping against the wall, the wind knocked out of him.

  For a second, he thought he had the guy pinned. For a second.

  Then—his Spider-Sense flared.

  Instinct screamed at him to move.

  He barely rolled away in time as a massive chunk of debris came hurtling at him, missing his head by a fraction of a second. The chunk of concrete obliterated the wall where he had been just moments before, sending jagged shards skidding across the pavement.

  "Alright, Alex," Spidey panted, flipping to his feet. "Just take the L, man."

  "DIE, !"

  Rhino’s bloodshot eyes burned with fury as he charged again.

  Spidey exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. "You wound me, Rhino."

  He reacted in a split second, shooting twin web-lines toward two parked cars. With a hard yank, he swung both vehicles straight toward Aleksei like a pair of makeshift hammers.

  CRASH!

  The two cars collided into Rhino with an earth-shattering impact. The force sent glass and metal flying in all directions, a billowing cloud of dust and smoke obscuring the area.

  Spidey waited, tense, crouched on the balls of his feet.

  And then, from the smoke—movement.

  Rhino burst from the wreckage, barely slowed. Punching his way free of the tangled steel, his muscles flexed as he ripped through the mangled remains of the cars like they were made of cardboard.

  "Oh, come on!" Spidey groaned.

  Without warning, Aleksei leaped—a terrifying, inhuman leap for a man of his size. The veins in his arms bulged as he raised his gleaming adamantium knife, the blade catching the dim glow of the streetlights as it came rushing toward Spidey’s face.

  Too fast.

  Spidey’s reflexes screamed for him to move, but the angle was too sharp, and Rhino was too close.

  "I won’t die by butt-knife!" Spidey yelped, raising his arms in a desperate block.

  Then—

  "Ya’re done, buster."

  The voice rang out, clear and unwavering.

  The Alamo stood in the middle of the street, battered and breathing heavily, his hand raised, his fingers curled into the unmistakable shape of a gun. A crackling blue glow hummed at his fingertip, illuminating the darkness.

  Rhino froze, turning his head slightly, just enough to cast a glare in Alamo’s direction.

  "I’M NOT SCARED OF FINGERGUNS!" Aleksei bellowed.

  Alamo smirked. "Well, this one’ll scare ya."

  Then, with pinpoint precision, he fired.

  A concentrated plasma bolt erupted from Alamo’s fingertip, slicing through the air like a bullet of pure energy. The shot was precise, calculated—and it hit Rhino right at the elbow joint.

  A horrifying ripping sound filled the air.

  Rhino screamed. A bloodcurdling, animalistic howl of pain as his arm—his entire forearm—was severed at the joint. The superheated plasma vaporized the flesh, leaving behind a cauterized, smoldering wound.

  The severed limb—still clutching the knife—landed squarely in Spidey’s lap.

  For a beat, there was silence.

  Then—

  "OH MY GOD—GET THIS OUT OF HERE!"

  With a mixture of panic and disgust, Spidey hurled the severed arm away from him, flinging it across the street where it landed with a grotesque thump.

  Rhino collapsed onto his knees, cradling the burnt stump of his arm, his chest heaving in agony. His massive body shook from the sheer pain, his face twisted into an expression of pure, feral rage—but even he knew it was over.

  Alamo took a step forward, lowering his still-glowing hand, his breath coming out in exhausted puffs.

  "Dude you can't rip people's limbs like that!" Spider-Man protested as he grabbed Alamo's hand to get up. "Eugh, your hand is hot"

  "I get that a lot" Alamo smirked as he helped Spider-Man regain his balance.

  "Alamo, man, we're cool and all, but this was not it. This is messed up" Spidey said as he came closer to Aleksei on the ground bleeding.

  "Here" Alamo crouched his hand burning Aleksei's skin again.

  "ARGH!" The big brute screamed in pain.

  "Don't worry Spidey, I'm just cauterizin' the wound" Alamo assured Spider-Man.

  "Alright... But let us not go around ripping people's entire arms off" Spider-Man said as he took notice of the guards trapped inside the armored car.

  "I'll see what I can do" Alamo muttered.

  Spider-Man landed beside the wrecked vehicle he swung a web at the trapped door and yanked away, the guards nodded desperately. Their suits all covered in sweet and blood from the wreckage as they jumped out. One muttered. "Thanks Spidey"

  "No worries, I had help... friend from down south. Now go to your families guys. You guys been through enough" He patted them in the back as they rushed behind the police line.

  Back in the police line the officers crossed their arms. The sergeant spoke first. "I'll be damned, the Midnight Cowboy really done it"

  One of the officers approached. "Should we go arrest him now"

  The sergeant patted the young officer on his back as he turned away torwards the crowd. "He could have shot him in the head for all that I care. Let the boys have their fun."