The overhead lights in the cabin were dimmed to a soft, warm glow.
On the electronic screen, a winding flight path slowly pushed a blue light dot towards the Persian Gulf.
With a 'ding-dong' alert, a sweet announcement echoed through the cabin: "Dear passengers, welcome aboard this flight. Our aircraft is about to depart from this station. Please fasten your seatbelts, straighten your seatbacks, stow your tray tables, and properly place your luggage in the overhead compartments or under the seat in front of you."
The luggage compartment was filled with the pungent smell of leather mixed with aviation fuel, and the metal framework hummed faintly with the vibration of the plane's engines.
Spider-Man was curled up in the gap between two rows of suitcases, his dark blue jacket covering his iconic red and black suit, and his earphone cord tangled around his neck.
After hearing the faint broadcast reminder, he tightened his jacket and pressed the button on his wrist-mounted web-shooter. A silvery-white web instantly shot out, solidifying into a firm anchor point on the mottled metal wall, securing him firmly in place.
Inside the cabin, flight attendants in crisp uniforms moved gracefully through the aisles, their scarves gently fluttering with their movements, showcasing their elegant posture. "Sir, please turn on flight mode."
A flight attendant, with a gentle smile and soft tone, reminded a passenger who was fiddling with a tablet.
In the luggage compartment, Spider-Man pulled out his phone from his pocket, bit his lip, and pressed the power-off button.
"I hope Mei doesn't call me right now..."
A young girl by the window excitedly pressed her face against the porthole, her eyes fixed on the runway outside, anticipating the plane's takeoff.
The flight attendant's voice announcing takeoff came from above, mixed with the increasingly intense vibrations as the plane taxied.
Looking at the pitch-black luggage compartment, Peter Parker sighed helplessly, the White mist of his breath condensing into tiny ice crystals in the cold air.
"I must be crazy."
...Let's not talk about Peter Parker, who hasn't arrived yet, and instead focus on the other two who are already in Afghanistan.
The Afghanistan desert shimmered with heat waves under the scorching sun, and sand was whipped up by the strong winds, hitting the body of the off-road vehicle Gwendolyn had "borrowed."
Dr.'s tablet emitted a faint alarm, indicating that the vehicle had arrived at a barren slope not far from the Terrorists' base.
In the distance, craggy rocks resembled the sharp teeth of a giant beast, and several hidden caves were nestled within the grotesque folds of the mountain.
"Dr., keep an eye on the car; I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response, Gwendolyn put on XLR8's mask, and her figure shot towards the distant cave like an arrow released from a bowstring.
Upon reaching the outer perimeter of the cave, Gwendolyn abruptly stopped, confirmed there was only one person nearby, and lightly tapped the symbol on her chest.
In an instant, a burst of purple light emanated from her.
Not far away, a patrolman wearing a tattered headscarf and holding a rifle had just arrived when he saw the purple light erupt.
He suddenly stopped, turned his body vigilantly, his cloudy eyes searching the darkness, and his chapped lips mumbled, "What was that?"
He raised his rifle, the metallic scraping sound of the safety being disengaged piercingly loud in the silent desert, then cautiously moved towards the direction where the purple light had appeared, each step crunching on the gravel.
Finally, the patrolman reached the corner where the purple light had flashed. His breathing became short and heavy, and his rifle barrel trembled slightly with tension.
"Who's there!" he suddenly roared, aiming his rifle squarely at the illuminated spot, his eyes fixed on the darkness before him, ready to pull the trigger the next second.
However, all that awaited him was dead silence. Aside from a few wisps of sand blown by the wind, there was nothing unusual.
He frowned, a puzzled expression on his face, slowly lowered his rifle, kicked away some loose stones on the ground, and then crouched down to carefully examine the surrounding traces.
But after searching for a long time, he still found nothing. He cursed, muttering "bad luck," brushed the sand off his pants, and prepared to turn and leave.
But just as he stood up, the surface of the rock behind him suddenly changed; a sticky purple sludge rapidly spread like a living thing.
Before he could react, the sludge precisely covered his mouth and nose, and the strong suction prevented him from making any sound.
He widened his eyes in horror, and his rifle clattered to the ground.
The sludge, like living tentacles, tightly wrapped around his limbs, dragging his entire body backward.
He struggled fiercely, his feet creating two long marks in the sand, his fingernails digging deeply into the rock, but he couldn't stop his body from being slowly pulled into the rock crevice.
The sludge enveloped his body, and a bone-chilling cold spread across his skin wherever it touched. His consciousness gradually blurred amidst suffocation and fear, finally disappearing completely into the dark rock crevice, leaving only messy footprints on the ground and the solitary rifle.
Moments later, the purple sludge slowly condensed into a human form, revealing Gwendolyn's delicate face.
She scanned her surroundings warily, and after confirming there was nothing unusual, she directly picked up the Terrorists who had suffocated to death beside her and brought him to a nearby ammunition box.
Opening the lid of the box and confirming there was enough space, Gwendolyn unceremoniously shoved him inside.
Immediately after, the purple sludge on her body began to violently squirm, and its surface started to change.
In almost the blink of an eye, Gwendolyn had completely transformed into the patrolman's appearance.
She bent down to pick up the rifle from the ground, dusted herself off, and mimicking the patrolman's usual lazy posture, casually slung the rifle over her shoulder and walked towards the cave entrance.
The electric lights hanging on the cave walls were dim. Several armed individuals in similar attire walked towards her. One of them raised a hand and greeted Gwendolyn, and Gwendolyn returned the greeting.
Although Gwendolyn didn't understand their language, the universal translator function of the small watch was no joke.
She walked and browsed, following the winding passage.
The gravel under her leather boots crunched, mixing with the distant roar of machinery.
Turning a corner, the smell of hospital disinfectant suddenly appeared in the air, and dense pipelines began to emerge on the rock walls.
Gwendolyn raised an eyebrow, secretly quickening her pace.
After another turn, the path suddenly opened up, and a heavy metal door appeared before her.
The metal door was covered in rivets, gleaming with a cold, hard luster, and a viewing window was embedded next to it, like an oversized prison door.
And at the main entrance, two guards, also holding rifles, stood.
Just then, a piercing scream tore through the air, suddenly penetrating the thick metal door.
Gwendolyn's face showed no expression. She feigned a nonchalant demeanor, slowly moving away from the metal door.
Her peripheral vision constantly scanned her surroundings, vigilantly avoiding the gaze of other patrolmen, and finally found a dimly lit small corner in the cave.
After confirming that no one was around, Gwendolyn took a deep breath. With a thought, a light purple hourglass symbol appeared like a phantom on her chest.
Gently tapping that symbol, the light purple glow lit up again... Meanwhile, in front of the metal door, the two guards remained standing rigidly, rifles pressed against their sides, their gaze mechanically scanning their surroundings.
They were completely unaware that on the exposed electrical wires of the adjacent wall, a black gelatinous substance was moving at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye.
The gelatinous substance, like a black lightning bolt, snaked along the wires, cleverly avoiding the guards' sight, and approached the gap in the metal door.
Since the electrical wires themselves extended into the interior, the black gelatinous substance, or rather, the shapeshifter, could naturally adhere to the wires and rush through the iron door.
The moment it passed through the gap, the shapeshifter adhered to the cave wall, crawling towards a nearby camera while observing the situation inside.
It was also at this moment that a heartbreaking scream echoed in the cave.
The shapeshifter was startled. Looking down in the direction of the sound, it saw a simple metal medical bed in the center of the cave. A handsome man with a mustache was painfully twisting his body. His shirt was soaked with blood, and the wound on his chest was a bloody mess, constantly oozing dark red blood drops. However, the restraint bed prevented him from moving freely, his body fixed to the bed.
Gwendolyn, who was forced to become a fan of restraint beds, approved of this.