Chapter 9:  The Past (3)  

Wind howled through ruined streets.

Flames danced across the steel bones of Chicago, a city brought to its knees by villainy and war.

Smoke curled around shattered towers and collapsed highways. The night sky glowed orange with fire.

In the center of the chaos stood Peter Parker—burnt, bleeding, and unbowed.

His broken body stood between Harry and the monster his father had become.

The Green Goblin's throat glowed again, heating for another flame burst.

Peter didn't flinch.

He stepped forward.

But then—

A new sound thundered through the air.

WHIRRRRRRRRR—THOOM.

Metal groaned.

Gears screamed.

The ground trembled.

From the far end of the street through a crumbling overpass and rising dust—came a massive silhouette.

The Goblin's Mech.

A towering, six-meter war machine.

Painted in twisted green and purple.

Eyes glowing like twin furnaces.

Blades for fingers.

Rocket pods mounted at the shoulders.

A goblin-faced cockpit snarling with glowing teeth.

It crushed a bus beneath its foot as it stepped forward, each movement shaking the concrete.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!" Gwen screamed from behind the rubble.

Mary froze, pulling Harry back instinctively.

Peter's eyes widened.

The serum pulsed weakly in his veins but his instincts screamed.

This was no longer just Norman Osborn.

This was the endgame.

The Goblin let out a twisted laugh, his armor crackling as he backed toward the massive mech.

"You think this ends with me, Peter?!"

He leapt engines blasting fire from his back and landed on the mech's shoulder. The cockpit hissed open like a mouth and swallowed him whole.

The machine powered up.

Engines flared. Cannons whirred. The streets glowed from the heat beneath its boots.

Peter shouted, voice hoarse but loud:

"RUN!!"

Gwen grabbed Mary.

Mary grabbed Harry.

Frank Castle, still clutching his ribs, fired a single round at the mech—a shot that ricocheted uselessly off its armor.

"That's suicide," he muttered through bloodied teeth.

"He's not walking outta this one."

Peter took one step toward the mech. Then another.

Every movement was agony.

His muscles screamed.

His bones cracked.

His vision blurred.

But he didn't stop.

Because they needed time.

Because someone had to stand between the city and that monster.

Because he was Peter Parker.

…

As the Goblin's Mech roared as its engines flared.

Metal shifted with every heavy step, gears grinding like the scream of a dying world. It towered over the Chicago skyline—twisted, unstoppable.

From within its cockpit, Norman Osborn fully consumed by the Goblin persona—laughed, his voice echoing through the mech's speakers like a demon's growl.

"Let's turn this city into ash."

The mech's left arm rotated, a triple-barrel cannon locking into place.

Its right arm extended with razor-sharp tendrils.

The countdown to destruction had begun

Peter limped forward, energy crackling weakly from his hand.

His eyes never left the monster.

Then he spun around.

"Gwen! Mary! Get out of here!"

"That thing will level everything in seconds!"

Gwen's voice broke "Peter, no—!"

Peter yelled back, louder, firmer:

"RUN!! That's an order!"

Frank Castle grunted, dragging himself toward Peter.

"I ain't going, kid… I can still shoot—"

"No." Peter snapped.

"You've lost too much blood. You barely survived Octopus."

Gwen grabbed Frank's arm.

"Peter wants us to go, Frank. So we should go."

Frank clenched his fists veins popping in fury.

But deep down, he knew.

He turned away, biting down on the scream in his throat.

"No! Don't leave him!!" Harry shouted, struggling to rise.

Then—

A figure stepped from the shadows.

An older rebel—gray beard, missing one eye, coat soaked in blood and ash. He moved silently behind Harry.

And gently pressed a needle to his neck.

"Sleep, kid."

"Your heart's too full to see what must be done."

Harry gasped but fell unconscious, caught gently by Mary as she knelt beside him.

Then, they stepped forward.

Four rebels.

Veterans of the underground resistance. Bloodied, scarred, proud.

One with a plasma detonator.

One with an EMP coil.

One with twin blades.

And the last with Francis's old rifle still scorched with plasma burns.

They stood beside Peter, defiant.

"Sir…" the one-eyed veteran said, saluting.

"We follow you to the death."

They turned to Frank.

One said "I'm sorry, leader. Peter needs us."

"You have to stay alive… to lead what's left."

Frank's jaw clenched.

His voice cracked into a growl:

"You… fucking IDIOTS!!"

He slammed his fist into the wall, tears blurring his one good eye.

But he didn't stop them.

Peter nodded.

His voice steady. Final.

"Then let's bring this monster down… from the inside."

The five of them sprinted toward the mech.

Weaving through flames. Dodging blasts. Climbing broken infrastructure like a last hope burning in the dark.

The Goblin Mech reared back its cannon targeting the fleeing civilians, targeting the city.

But Peter?

He was climbing.

Climbing to the top.

To rip it apart from within.

..

Meanwhile Gwen sides

Sirens howled.

Chicago burned.

Downtown was a mess of twisted glass and broken steel, emergency floodlights flickering through the smoke like dying stars. Civilians bleeding, screaming, panicked ran through makeshift routes under crumbling overpasses.

The sound of the Goblin Mech's footsteps echoed like thunder behind them.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

Each step shook the earth. Each motion a reminder of who might not make it.

Gwen sprinted forward together with Frank , weaving through the chaos with a rifle slung over her back and Harry limp in her arms, unconscious from the sedatives.

Mary Jane ran beside her, eyes red, jaw clenched tight, dragging a wounded soldier who could barely walk.

They moved block by block dodging falling debris, ducking under fire-scorched signs, trying not to look back.

"Come on, dammit!" Gwen shouted to the civilians.

"MOVE! FOLLOW THE FLARES!"

A little girl tripped, Mary caught her instantly, lifting her without a second thought and pulling her mother with them.

They passed a sign marked "ZONE 2—SAFE ROUTE" just as a tremor cracked the street open behind them.

The Goblin's mech fired another cannon blast in the distance—

KA-KOOM!!!

A skyscraper caved in. The skyline vanished in fire.

Mary kept running but her chest tightened. Her legs moved like lead. Her mind wasn't in the streets.

It was with him.

With Peter.

Her thoughts whispered through clenched teeth:

*(Peter… if only you said you loved me…)

(Maybe… maybe we could've been together.)

(I know it's shameless… thinking like this when Harry's lying in my arms… but...)

(I loved you too.)

She blinked hard, wiping the tears before Gwen could see.

They turned a corner. The evac tunnel loomed ahead—an old subway line rerouted as an emergency escape.

Gwen shoved the gate open.

"GO! GO! Get him in!"

Mary passed Harry's body to medics waiting just inside, then turned back.

Her feet froze.

In the distance—

Far beyond the rooftops and pillars of fire—

She could see him.

Just barely.

Peter.

Climbing the mech's shoulder like a speck of defiance against the darkness.

Gwen grabbed her wrist.

"Mary… we have to go."

Mary didn't speak.

She just nodded once.

But in her heart, she screamed.

As the gate closed behind them and the subway train activated emergency rail thrusters, carrying them underground

The city above began to collapse.

But Peter?

Peter was still climbing.

Toward the core.

Toward the end.

Toward destiny.

To be continue