Peter Parker paced nervously on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse, his Spider-Man mask rolled up to his nose so he could chew on his fingernails. He'd received a cryptic response to his desperate email, telling him to meet here at midnight. Now, as the city's distant clock tower chimed the hour, he wondered if he'd made a terrible mistake.
"Great job, Parker," he muttered. "You've probably just invited a bunch of super-assassins to come murder you. Aunt May's gonna be so disappointed when she finds out you got yourself killed by email scammers."
Suddenly, his spider-sense tingled. He whirled around, fists raised, only to find himself face-to-face with a stunning blonde woman in white. Well, She had a white mask on her face. So he could not really know how she looked but judging from her figure, she was absolutely stunning.
Though, why he was surprised was because how she appeared out of no where and he had no idea from where she had come from.
"Whoa!" Peter yelped, stumbling backward. "Where did you come from? And, uh, is that outfit dry-clean only? Because let me tell you, superhero work is murder on the wardrobe."
The woman smirked, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You can call me the White Queen, darling. And don't worry about my outfit – I have my ways of keeping it pristine."
Before Peter could respond, a playing card zoomed past his ear, exploding harmlessly against a nearby chimney. He spun to see a man in a trench coat grinning at him, more glowing cards fanned between his fingers.
"Bonjour, mon ami," the man drawled. "Gambit, at your service."
"Uh, hi," Peter said, his head spinning. "I'm Spider-Man. But you probably knew that. Unless you guys just routinely hang out on random rooftops with exploding playing cards."
A gust of wind nearly knocked him off his feet, and suddenly what looked like a silver-haired teenager was standing beside him with a mask on his face, grinning cockily. "I'm Quicksilver," he announced. "Fastest man alive. Well, fastest teen. Well, fastest person on this rooftop, anyway."
"Show-off," muttered a young girl with reddish-brown hair, her hands glowing with strange energy. She too had a mask covering her face and thus her identity. "I have been given the name The Scarlet Witch from my master."
"And I," purred a sultry voice from the shadows, "am Mystique." A blue-skinned woman with fiery red hair slinked into view, her yellow eyes fixed on Spider-Man.
After hearing that Law was planning on giving the four mutants a mission, Mystique decided that she did not want to be left behind and it was also an opportunity for her to bind with the rest of the mercenaries on team besides Law whom she had already bonded with. [A/N: If you know what I mean. Kekeke]
Peter's eyes darted between the assembled group. "Wow, okay. So, uh, you guys are... what? The Breakfast Club for superpowered misfits?"
Emma chuckled. "We're associates of the Death Surgeon. He sent us to help with your... pest problem."
"Oh!" Peter's eyes widened behind his mask. "Oh man, I can't believe he actually responded. I thought for sure that email would end up in his spam folder. Or get me put on some kind of mercenary blacklist."
Gambit laughed, shuffling his cards. "Trust me, mon ami, our boss has a soft spot for hard-luck cases. Especially ones with your particular... arachnid flair."
"So, what's he like?" Peter asked eagerly. "The Death Surgeon, I mean. Is he all dark and brooding? Does he have a secret lair filled with skulls and, like, jars of eyeballs?"
The team exchanged amused glances.
"Oh, he's a real piece of work," Mystique said, her tone a mix of exasperation and fondness.
"He's brilliant," Emma added. "A medical genius as well as a brilliant scientist with a penchant for terrible puns but he is really funny." Showing her love for her little brother.
"Don't forget the cane" Quicksilver chimed in. "He's weirdly obsessed with his cane. He could walk without it but still carries with him al the time and even talks with it. "
Wanda eyes sparked "And he's a kind man and a wonderful teacher of Mystic arts."
Peter blinked, trying to process this information.
'Mystic arts? Whatever, must be some Voodoo stuff. I have more pressing matters to deal with.'
"Uh, okay. So, not exactly the grim reaper of the medical world I was picturing. More like... Doctor Frankenstein meets Patch Adams?"
"You're not far off," Gambit chuckled. "But make no mistake, mon ami. For all his jokes and eccentricities, the Death Surgeon is not someone you want to cross. He's as deadly as he is brilliant."
"And he sent you guys to help me?" Peter asked, still a bit bewildered.
Emma nodded. "He seems to think you're worth saving, Spider-Man. Now, tell us about these villains you're facing."
Peter quickly filled them in on the Sinister Six – their powers, their weaknesses, and their last known location. As he spoke, he couldn't help but marvel at how surreal this all felt. Here he was, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, strategizing with a team of mercenaries sent by a guy called the Death Surgeon. What even was his life anymore?
"Alright," Emma said once Peter had finished. "Here's what we're thinking. Mystique, you'll infiltrate their hideout, gather intel, and sow some discord among their ranks. Nothing like a little shapeshifter chaos to keep them off balance."
Mystique grinned wickedly. "Oh, I do love a good impersonation. Any preferences on who I should be? Maybe a sultry Doc Ock to seduce Mysterio?"
Mystique having read files on all villains that they were going to face from Law's database on superhumans.
Peter made a choking sound. "Please, no. I don't need that mental image haunting my nightmares."
"Quicksilver," Emma continued, ignoring their antics, "you'll be our hit-and-run specialist. Keep them distracted, wear them down."
The silver-haired teen smirked. "They won't even see me coming. Well, they might see a blur. A very handsome blur."
"Scarlet, you'll focus on neutralizing Mysterio's illusions and disrupting Electro's energy. Gambit, you and I will take on Doc Ock and Vulture. Spider-Man, you know Sandman and Rhino best – they're yours."
Peter nodded, feeling a surge of confidence. "Got it. Operation 'Squash the Six' is a go. Or maybe 'De-Sinister the Six'? I'm workshopping the name."
"One more thing," Emma added, her expression serious. "The Death Surgeon wanted us to tell you that an old friend might be joining the party. Someone called 'Black Mask'? He said you'd know what that means."
Peter's jaw dropped. "Black Mask? He's coming? But... how? Why? I haven't seen him in years!"
Gambit shrugged. "The boss works in mysterious ways and has mysterious friends, mon ami. Best not to question it."
As the team began to disperse to prepare for their mission, Peter called out, "Wait! I just... I wanted to say thank you. All of you. I know you're probably only doing this because your boss told you to, but... it means a lot."
The mercenaries exchanged glances, something unreadable passing between them.
"Don't sell yourself short, sugah," Mystique said with a wink. "We've heard stories about you. You're not half bad for a kid in pajamas."
'I wish Magneto had someone like him in his brotherhood. Maybe then it wouldn't have ended like it did.' Mystique thought
"Hey!" Peter protested. "This is a high-tech suit, I'll have you know. With... uh... very advanced pajama technology."
Quicksilver zipped over and clapped him on the shoulder. "Relax, Spidey. We're happy to help. Besides, kicking supervillain butt beats sitting around the lair listening to the boss practice his stand-up routine."
"Is it that bad?" Peter asked, curious despite himself.
The entire team groaned in unison.
"Let's just say," Pietro said with a pained expression, "that if mad science doesn't work out, he should definitely not quit his day job for comedy."
'Why does their boss sound awfully like Law? His comedy is as bad as him. Those two should have a stand up competition.Lol' Peter thought
"I dunno," Gambit mused. "I thought his 'Why did the Sentinel cross the road?' joke was pretty good."
Emma massaged her temples. "Remy, darling, we've talked about this. Stockholm syndrome is not a good look on you."
As the team bickered good-naturedly, Peter felt a warmth spreading in his chest. These people were strange, dangerous, and probably more than a little unhinged. But they were here, ready to risk their lives to help him. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone in this hero business as he'd thought.
"Alright, team," he said
"Let's go make the Sinister Six regret ever messing with your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man... and his new weird mercenary friends."
With a chorus of cheers (and one "Excelsior!" from Quicksilver, who earned several confused looks), the unlikely alliance set off into the night. The Sinister Six wouldn't know what hit them.
And somewhere, watching through his observation Haki, Trafalgar Law – alias the Death Surgeon, alias Black Mask – leaned back in his chair with a grin. "Oh, this is going to be fun," he chuckled, stroking Benehime.
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