Spider-Man's Arc

Chapter 9 of 10

Gwen held the swarm through their shared link. Spider-Man drove the pale spiders across the rock, but he felt her strength draining. Her hand shook on his arm. If she let go now, the weight would crush him. He had to learn to hold the swarm alone. But every time he imagined releasing her link, panic rose and his mind lurched toward the break. He could not even practice. The test itself might shatter him. "I can't rehearse this," he said. "The second I picture dropping your anchor, I start to fall. I need a way to try it without losing everything." Miles knelt beside them, steady as ever. He had guided Spider-Man through every pale-spider step. "Then don't drop her all at once," he said. "Let her ease off slow. A little at a time. So you can feel where your own limit is before you hit it." A gust of air rushed past them. Flash skidded to a stop in the chamber, yellow lightning crackling off his fists. He had never come this deep before. His eyes moved fast over the pale tide. "I heard you need control, not speed," he said. "But I can give you something. I can tap her link off and on faster than you can blink. Quick cuts. Your mind won't have time to spiral." Spider-Man understood. Flash could flick the connection like a switch. Each cut would last a fraction of a second. If his mind started to break, Flash would snap Gwen back in before it finished. Short, safe tests. "Do it," Spider-Man said. Flash set one crackling finger against Gwen's shoulder and the other against Spider-Man's. "Starting small." The link cut. For half a second, Spider-Man held the hundred spiders alone. The weight slammed down. His vision went white. Then Flash restored the link, and Gwen's steadiness poured back. The pale swarm settled. "Again," Spider-Man gasped. Flash cut it longer. One full second. Spider-Man clenched his jaw and gripped the swarm in that gap. He found a thread, thin but his own. The weight pressed, but he did not shatter. The link returned. They ran it over and over. Each cut lasted longer. Each time, Spider-Man held a little more of the swarm himself before the break threatened. Sweat soaked his mask. His nose bled. But he was mapping his own limit, inch by inch, with no risk of the full collapse. "Last one," Flash said. "Five seconds." The link cut. The weight fell. Spider-Man stood under it alone. One second. Three. The pale spiders held still on the wall, obeying him. Five seconds. Flash reached to restore the link. "Wait," Spider-Man said. The swarm was still his. Gwen pulled her mind back fully. He held. The hundred pale spiders waited at his command, carried by his strength alone. "How long can you keep it?" Miles asked. "Not long," Spider-Man said. His legs shook. "But now I know I can start."