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"If you touch one hair on her head, I'll—"
"You'll what?"
Before Peter could finish, Doctor Octopus hurled him across the restaurant.
CRASH.
Peter smashed through furniture and debris, buried under the wreckage.
Doctor Octopus looked at the terrified Mary Jane and smiled cruelly.
Then, amid her screams, he carried her away with his mechanical arms.
Pedestrians scattered in panic as the metal-limbed monster moved through the streets.
Peter forced himself up, shoving debris aside.
He stumbled out of the ruined restaurant, then realized something: his vision was blurry.
He removed his glasses.
Everything came into sharp focus.
His powers were back.
Peter didn't understand why or how. Anger? Love? Desperation?
He didn't have time to figure it out. Mary Jane needed him.
Peter disappeared into an alley to change.
At the Daily Bugle, Jameson paced his office anxiously.
Mary Jane was about to become his daughter-in-law. Her safety mattered to him—more than he'd admit.
He'd already used every contact and connection to search for her. Nothing.
For the first time in years, Jameson wished Spider-Man would show up.
Maybe I shouldn't have been so hard on him, Jameson thought guiltily.
A whistling sound made him turn.
The Spider-Man costume he'd hung on his wall was gone.
In its place: a piece of paper, stuck there with webbing.
Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man!
"THIEF! ROBBER!" Jameson shouted. "He stole my suit!"
But he was grinning.
Though it was strange—hadn't Spider-Man gotten a new costume? Why take back the old one?
Peter was puzzled too.
He'd come to the Bugle to retrieve his costume, but also to see Marcus.
Marcus wasn't there.
I'll talk to him later, Peter decided. Mary Jane comes first.
Using his restored web-swinging abilities, Peter reached the clock tower Doctor Octopus had specified.
He landed on top and called down. "Where is she?!"
Doctor Octopus smiled up at him. "She's safe. For now. Let's talk—"
Peter didn't want to talk.
He launched himself at Otto.
WHAM. CRASH. BOOM.
They fought viciously, trading blows across the tower's upper levels.
Then both fell together, tumbling through the air—
And landed on a passing train below.
Peter stuck to the roof with his adhesive ability. Otto anchored himself with his mechanical arms.
The fight continued immediately.
Otto knocked Peter off the train repeatedly. Each time, Peter swung back up with webbing.
They were evenly matched at first, but gradually Peter figured out Otto's patterns. His strength increased. Otto began losing ground.
Realizing he might actually lose, Otto grabbed two passengers from inside the train car and threw them off the side.
Peter had no choice. He swung down and caught them both, depositing them safely back inside.
When Peter turned back, Otto had reached the conductor's cabin.
Otto cranked the train's speed to maximum, then tore the control panel apart with his mechanical claws.
He turned and grinned at Peter. "Good luck stopping this runaway train!"
Then Otto jumped off, his arms carrying him to a nearby building.
Peter's stomach dropped.
The conductor's voice came through, panicked: "HELP! The brakes are gone! I can't stop it!"
Peter looked ahead.
His eyes widened.
A few miles ahead, the tracks simply... ended. Construction wasn't finished. Beyond the tracks: open air and buildings full of people.
If the train didn't stop, everyone on board would die. And the crash would take out whoever was in those buildings too.
Peter had to stop it.
After a moment's thought, Peter jumped to the front of the train.
"Hold on tight!" he called back to passengers.
Then he dropped to the tracks, bracing his back against the train's front, trying to stop it with his feet like brakes.
Screeeech.
Sparks flew. His boots shredded. The train didn't slow.
Peter was thrown backward, slamming into the train's front railing.
His feet were torn and bleeding. The pain was excruciating.
But he forced himself up. No time for pain.
Peter looked left and right, then shot webbing to buildings on both sides.
He gripped the strands and pulled, using the webs' tensile strength to slow the train.
The webbing held—but the walls they were stuck to didn't. Chunks of brick and concrete tore free.
Peter nearly fell. His feet stuck to the train, keeping him anchored.
He tried again. More webs. Dozens of them, shooting out to every building in range.
When enough strands were attached, Peter gripped them all with both hands, then stretched his body across the front of the train like a living brake.
"AAAAAHHH!"
Peter roared, pouring everything he had into stopping the train.
His costume tore as muscles strained beyond their limits. His face contorted with effort.
The train's speed finally began decreasing.
Miles away, Marcus watched through his telekinesis.
"Iconic," he murmured with a smile.
Peter had pushed past his normal limits. His strength right now exceeded one hundred tons. Without his enhanced body, the tearing forces would've ripped his arms off.
Marcus decided to help.
He extended his telekinesis to the train's brake mechanism. With a surge of mental force, he activated the emergency brake and cut the power.
Between Peter's maximum effort and Marcus's secret assistance, the runaway train rapidly decelerated.
SCREEEEEECH.
The sound of metal grinding against metal filled the air.
The train came to a stop—barely—just before the end of the tracks.