"Spider-Man", Dante muttered under his breath, his voice low enough that only he could hear it. It was hard to tell if the name sparked irritation or grudging respect inside him. The city had a way of throwing strange bedfellows together, but this guy was something else.
The man in the red and blue suit didn't look threatening in the usual sense. His webbing dangled lazily from his wrists like he owned every rooftop and alleyway in New York, but it was the cocky grin plastered beneath that iconic mask that put Dante on edge. That grin said, 'I'm the king of this city, and Dante wasn't sure if he wanted to be allies or rivals.
Daredevil, who rarely wasted time on pleasantries, was unusually quiet as he made the introductions for once. His voice, calm and clipped, broke the tension. "We've got a situation. Phantom's been moving through the city, using some pretty advanced tech to stay invisible to our usual methods. We need all hands on deck."
Spider-Man's masked head turned toward Dante, eyes narrowing just slightly with curiosity. "And I assume that means we're working together?"
"You assume right," Daredevil said with a dry edge. "Dante's here to track Phantom, too."
Spider-Man chuckled under his breath, light but sharp. "Not sure whether that's good or bad for you, Dante. But I'm in. I've tangled with Phantom before—a real slippery customer."
Dante folded his arms, sizing up the web-slinger. His powers were a volatile mix of potential and unpredictability. Working alongside someone who cracked jokes mid-mission didn't exactly inspire confidence in tight coordination.
"So, what's the plan?" Dante asked, forcing a controlled tone over the unease crawling up his spine.
Daredevil raised a hand sharply. "Listen up."
The city around them shifted—a faint rumble of disturbance echoing from down the block. From the darkened alley ahead came the unmistakable sounds of chaos: shouts, the harsh clatter of metal, and the heavy thud of combat.
Without waiting, Daredevil melted into the shadows, senses honed by years of blind fighting, tracking every vibration, every whisper. Dante followed swiftly, heart pounding in rhythm with the adrenaline flooding his veins.
Spider-Man launched himself into the air with practised ease, webbing trailing behind him like a comet streaking through the dusk.
Dante pushed through the cramped alleyways, the urban landscape blurring as his focus narrowed. His skin prickled with the familiar hum of energy—the unmistakable signature of Phantom. The hunter had become the hunted.
Then Dante saw him.
Phantom stood at the centre of the alley, a ghost in the shadows despite his high-tech gear. Surrounding him were a dozen armed men, their weapons aimed, but their confidence shaken. Phantom didn't look worried. He was toying with them, almost bored.
"Did you think I'd be easy to catch?" Phantom taunted, lips curling into a smug smile.
Daredevil stepped forward, voice low but firm. "You're no ghost, Phantom. Just a man hiding behind others."
Spider-Man, never missing a beat, flicked a web at one thug, pinning him to the brick wall. "And you're starting to make a habit of this, Phantom. Gotta admit, I'm impressed—almost."
Phantom's eyes glinted in the dim light, cold and calculating. "Looks like I'm not the only local talent here. Good to see you brought company."
Then the fight erupted.
Daredevil was a blur of precision, moving through the thugs like a shadow, disarming and incapacitating with calculated strikes. Spider-Man's acrobatics were chaotic yet strangely graceful—webs flying, fists swinging, a blur of red and blue confusion that left enemies dazed and tangled.
And Dante?
He was at the centre of it all, eyes sharp and mind faster than ever. He didn't try to mimic Daredevil's exact movements or match Spider-Man's speed—that would be foolish. Instead, he watched, learnt, and adapted.
Every movement from the thugs was a puzzle, every attack a code waiting to be cracked. Dante's body moved almost instinctively, weaving between blows, predicting their strikes just before they came. He was a step ahead, a ghost of his own, reading the fight like an open book.
The chaos spiralled quickly, wild but efficient. When Phantom realised escape was no longer an option, he snarled and made a desperate break for it—only to find Dante blocking his path.
"This isn't over," Phantom hissed, eyes flickering dangerously. "You can't stop what's already begun."
Daredevil stepped forward, voice low and unwavering. "I've been stopping people like you for my whole life. You're not as clever as you think."
Phantom let out a dark chuckle, retreating into the shadows where the light didn't reach. "We'll see about that."
And just like that, he vanished.
Dante exhaled deeply, muscles tense from the rapid exchange. The alley was quiet now, the only sound the distant hum of the city at night. Spider-Man landed beside him, the grin still evident even beneath the mask.
"Not bad for a new guy," the webslinger said, voice light but sincere.
"You've been doing this longer," Dante replied with a nod.
Daredevil was already moving, his senses tracking the faint, fading trail Phantom left behind. "This is only the beginning. Phantom's using tech we don't fully understand. He's more dangerous than we thought. Stick with me—next time, we find out who's pulling his strings."
Dante gave a firm nod.
For the first time in a long while, he wasn't fighting alone.
As the trio disappeared into the twisting maze of the city, Dante's mind raced. Phantom wasn't just a random criminal; this was someone orchestrating chaos with precision, someone who stayed one step ahead because they had an edge—a mysterious advantage.
His thoughts drifted back to the brief moments before the fight when he'd felt something deeper, something beneath Phantom's swagger and tech. A desperation? A purpose?
The city's night swallowed those thoughts as Dante moved forward, ready for whatever came next.
Because Phantom wasn't the only ghost in the city.
The shadows were closing in.
And Dante knew he'd need more than just raw power and quick reflexes to survive what was coming.
Hours later, perched on the edge of a rooftop overlooking the city, Dante caught his breath and let the city's pulse wash over him. Spider-Man swung nearby, chatting softly to Daredevil as they moved silently through the night air.
Dante's mind replayed the fight, every movement, every word exchanged. His instincts were sharp, but he also knew he'd have to learn to trust the strange camaraderie forming between them. He had been a lone wolf for so long—this was new and uncomfortable, but necessary.
"Hey", Spider-Man's voice drifted up to him from the rooftop below. "You alright up there?"
Dante glanced down, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "I'll live. But next time, maybe leave the puns to me."
Spider-Man laughed, a sound that was almost human beneath the mask. "Deal."
And as the city lights flickered below, Dante felt a flicker of hope.
Maybe, just maybe, this messed-up alliance could be the key to stopping Phantom—and whatever darkness was about to swallow the city whole.