Inside Marvel X DC World

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Snap!

Mike suddenly dropped to his knees, his left hand bracing against the ground while the fingers of his right hand clutched his chest, right over his heart.

'It's so hot!'

His heart felt like a blazing furnace, its heat radiating through his veins, making his blood boil. Mike's breath came in ragged gasps, sweat dripping from his face. His pupils oscillated wildly between dilating and contracting, the colors in his eyes flickering between black and green, as if two warring forces fought for dominance.

This was the first time Mike had wielded two extraordinary powers simultaneously through his Lord of Dependents ability.

The parasitic nature of the symbiote he'd hosted before was different. The symbiote could be separated from him; it was an external entity. But this time—he was dealing with the super spider abilities born of genetic mutation and the specialized evolutionary traits of a mutant. These were both intrinsic, part of him.

Now, these two wildly incompatible powers clashed within him, struggling for supremacy. Each was designed to dominate and devour the other, incapable of coexisting. Yet, thanks to Mike's unique "ordinary" physique—a perfect host for such anomalies—the DNA chains of both abilities broke apart. Under the Lord of Dependents' influence, the extraordinary genes briefly intertwined, repaired themselves, and began to merge into a single, unprecedented form.

Mike raised his head. His hair remained unchanged, but the chaotic colors in his eyes solidified, settling into a piercing ice-blue.

___

On the outskirts of New York City, far from the central war zone, a factory warehouse stood silent and foreboding. Inside, five or six vehicles—ranging from luxury cars to RVs—were parked haphazardly. Gang members with tattoos and dyed hair lingered, pacing anxiously.

They were restless, yet dared not leave early. Fear held them hostage.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the warehouse. The gang turned toward the entrance to see Luna walking in, carrying the unconscious Wanda in her arms.

"The boss is back!"

"Big sister is finally here!"

"The aliens are closing in—we can finally leave this hellhole!"

The gang erupted in relief. A tattooed young man rushed forward, bowing slightly before Luna, "Boss, the cars are ready—full gas tanks, loaded with guns and cash. We even swapped the plates for official police ones. No one will stop us when we hit the road!"

Luna nodded, her face calm and impassive. She laid Wanda gently on the bed inside an RV, then stepped out and leaned against the vehicle, arms crossed.

The gang exchanged uneasy glances, sensing something amiss.

Luna lit a cigarette, blowing a perfect ring of smoke into the air. Her sharp, light-green eyes scanned the horizon, "We're not leaving."

"What did you say?!" The gang chorused in disbelief.

"You heard me." She puffed out another stream of smoke, "We're staying put for now. No rush."

Her words silenced the group, leaving only the distant rumble of the war-torn city in the background.

Meanwhile, in New York's Central Battle Zone

On a church rooftop, a bald woman in a spotless white robe stood with one hand behind her back, the other glowing with a strange golden sigil. She calmly watched as alien mechanical bodies—like swarming locusts—descended upon the city.

The air crackled with energy as the woman casually flicked her hand. The approaching machines disintegrated mid-air, reduced to sparkling iron filings before hitting the ground. Alone, she defended the church effortlessly, her power unwavering.

Despite the chaos unfolding around her, she remained composed. To her, the alien invasion was secondary. A greater, more insidious threat loomed in her mind.

But then, something shifted. Her gaze snapped toward the outskirts of the battlefield. Her usually serene face betrayed a flicker of concern.

"An anomaly." She murmured, her tone laced with unease, "A variable..."

In the midst of smoldering ruins, Mike stood tall. His ice-blue eyes reflected the devastation around him, yet there was something else—an unfamiliar, intoxicating power surging through his veins.

He clenched his fists, marveling at the newfound strength coursing through him. His abilities, once separate, had fused into something extraordinary.

Fixing his gaze on the distant city center, Mike knew one thing: in his current state, he might be able to turn the tide of the battle.

As he ventured deeper into the city, the environment around him transformed. Streets lay abandoned, buildings stood hollowed out, and the distant sounds of skirmishes echoed ominously. Alien mechanical creatures patrolled the ruins, searching for survivors.

Suddenly, one of the creatures broke through a nearby building, lunging toward Mike with razor-sharp claws and fanged jaws ready to strike. Yet he continued walking, seemingly oblivious.

When the creature was just meters away, it froze mid-air, suspended by an unseen force. Struggling futilely, the alien machine couldn't move forward.

Mike extended a finger, and with a flick, the creature was flung backward. It collided with another, both erupting into a cacophony of twisted metal.

"So, that's how Luna does it." Mike mused. He now understood her power—metal control. But this was just the beginning.

With each step, Mike's confidence grew. The fusion of his powers was not just a combination; it was an evolution. Metal control, magnetic field manipulation, and his enhanced spider abilities had synergized into something unparalleled.

He shot a metallic spider thread from his fingertips. The thread pierced through an alien aircraft, skewering its occupants like beads on a string. He retracted the thread, marveling at its strength and precision.

Suddenly, explosions erupted around him, flames engulfing his figure. When the smoke cleared, Mike emerged unscathed, clad in a metallic spider suit—a perfect amalgamation of durability and elegance.

Above him, a giant alien warship, resembling a monstrous metallic centipede, bore down on the city, crushing everything in its path.

Mike didn't hesitate. With a flick of his wrist, razor-thin metal spider threads crisscrossed the sky. The warship surged forward—only to be sliced cleanly in half. Its pieces tumbled to the ground, obliterated.

Standing atop his web of metal threads, Mike surveyed the battlefield. His ice-blue eyes glinted, the silver spider emblem on his suit gleaming in the sunlight.

New York had a new defender—and the aliens had no idea what they were up against.