MARVEL -BLACK SPIDERMAN

The outfits worn by the approaching ninjas bore a striking resemblance to those of Matt's ninjas. However, it was clear their strength surpassed that of Matt's group.

In an instant, Peter's exoskeleton transformed with a thought. The armor on his hand shifted, revealing alien-like claws. Dodging to the side, he lashed out at the katana-wielding ninja. With a single, powerful step forward, the ground beneath him cracked. His claws drove straight into the ninja's throat with a dull, gruesome sound.

Blood sprayed out as the wounded ninja collapsed, lifeless. Almost immediately, his body disintegrated into a pile of dust, dissipating into the air.

Peter froze momentarily, taken aback by the surreal sight. Before he could process what had happened, several more ninjas in red surged toward him. Individually formidable, together they became an even deadlier force.

Twisting his waist with a sharp movement, Peter kicked a nearby ninja, sending him crashing against the wall with a loud thud. With another thought, the black exoskeleton spread further, covering his entire body from head to toe.

His posture shifted, leaning forward. Suddenly, a wing-like structure emerged from the center of his back. From these wings, countless sticky, corrosive projectiles shot forth like a torrential downpour.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

The deadly projectiles hit their marks with precision, striking the bodies of the ninjas. Each corrosive globule, enhanced by Frank's genetically altered spider web formula, caused massive physical damage. Wounds inflicted by the projectiles bubbled and hissed as the corrosive substance ate through flesh, burrowing deep into the body.

Peter's back, now a formidable weapon, continued firing projectiles while his wrists released black spider webs. These webbing blasts knocked two ninjas off their feet.

The ability to release corrosive bullets from his back was something Peter had only recently developed. Unlike the original Spider-Man, who could only shoot webbing from his wrists, Peter had discovered that his entire body could serve as a conduit for such attacks. His back, in particular, seemed to harbor an abundance of viscous, corrosive substances.

Scientists had theorized that the alien's dorsal spine was its most enigmatic feature, likely designed to secrete and store resin for constructing hives. For Peter, however, it had become a tool of destruction—capable of adapting, secreting, and even storing sticky, corrosive materials.

As Peter's "spider-silk rainstorm" continued, the assaulted ninjas fell one by one. Each dissolved into dust, leaving no trace behind.

"Click!"

Before Peter could continue his assault, the lights in the room flickered on. The once-shadowed room was now dimly illuminated, though pockets of darkness lingered.

Peter glanced upward, his sharp gaze locking onto the source of the sound. On the second floor stood a familiar figure.

Helen.

The woman looked down at Peter with her striking green eyes, her expression a mix of curiosity and surprise.

"Peter Parker, you never cease to amaze me," she said with a bemused smile.

Helen descended the stairs gracefully, her every movement exuding elegance and an otherworldly charm.

Peter frowned, his exoskeleton retreating slowly, revealing his face. "You're full of surprises yourself, Helen. I never expected you to dabble in magic."

Helen chuckled, shaking her head lightly. "This isn't magic, Parker. It's a secret art. Think of it as a kind of ninjutsu."

"Ninjutsu?" Peter repeated, narrowing his eyes.

Helen nodded as she continued descending. "Yes. Koga ninpo, to be precise. Originating from Japan, it allows practitioners to leave no trace upon death. Their bodies turn to ash, ensuring their secrets remain hidden forever."

Peter glanced at the piles of dust on the floor, his frown deepening. "Are you with the Hand?"

Helen smiled enigmatically. "Yes and no. My relationship with them is... complicated."

She stopped a few steps away from Peter, seemingly unfazed by the dozen ninjas he had just slain.

Peter, however, remained wary. He could sense the danger radiating from her. Slowly, his right hand was encased in a layer of black bone-like material.

"You don't seem afraid of death," Peter said coldly. "Considering what you've done, I wouldn't blame you if I decided to kill you right here."

Despite his words, Peter hesitated. He needed answers before taking action.

Helen, unfazed, smiled wider. "Oh, I'm terrified of death, but I doubt you'll kill me, Peter."

"That's a bold assumption," Peter replied, stepping closer.

"Is it?" Helen teased, tilting her head. "After all, you have me to thank for this morning's little... incident at school."

Peter's frown deepened. "You mean that strange smell of volatile grease?"

Helen nodded, unabashed. "Yes. Without it, you might not have had the courage to win the girl's heart. Sometimes, people need a little push to act on their desires."

Peter's jaw tightened. "You're talking about that gas I saw in Matt Murdoch's possession. What's your connection to him?"

"Matt?" Helen scoffed. "His version is a cheap imitation. It can't compare to what I've created."

Peter pressed on. "So, you know Matt?"

"Of course," Helen replied, her tone dripping with disdain. "He has deep ties with the Hand."

Her gaze shifted, settling on Peter's chest. "But what's truly fascinating is the parasite within you. It's different from the others I've seen."

Peter dropped his hand to his side. "Different? You mean different from the 'beast' that your Hand associates with?"

Helen's smile turned knowing. "Exactly. It's impressive you know about the 'beast,' Parker. But I must tell you, the one in my chest is unique as well."

Peter's voice turned cold. "What's so special about it?"

"Didn't anyone tell you?" Helen's eyes gleamed. "The true nature of the 'beast' is that it's a demon."

Thunder cracked outside, illuminating the room in a brilliant flash of light. For a split second, Helen's eyes glowed a menacing red.

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