❝ load up on guns
and bring your friends ❞

008. drones

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃'𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄, her dark hair snapping in every direction. She spat, her mouth suddenly full of strands, and pouted in frustration as she tried to push the unruly mess out of her eyes. Every gust stung her skin, the cold biting into her cheeks, but she ignored it. There were bigger things to focus on.

She and Peter clung to the side of the jet piloted by Happy. Well, Peter clung — Ingrid was wrapped tightly in his arms, her back pressed against his chest as they dangled precariously. The sensation of being so high up, only Peter’s grip keeping her from plummeting to the ground below, made her stomach churn. But she trusted him. She always did, even if her instincts screamed otherwise right now.

"All right, comms check. Kids, can you hear me?" Happy’s voice crackled through the earpiece, casual as ever, as though they weren't in a life-threatening situation strapped to the side of a jet.

Ingrid, still trying to control her hair, could only nod mutely. The wind made it impossible to think straight. But Peter, composed despite the situation, raised his voice over the roaring wind. "Yeah, we can. It's just a little loud out here!" His words had a lightness to them, a forced ease Ingrid knew all too well. He was trying to keep calm, probably more for her sake than his own.

Happy glanced their way, a small grin tugging at his lips as he saw Peter’s new suit. “I like the new suit.”

“Thanks,” Peter replied, but Ingrid could feel the slight tension in his voice. Her own pulse quickened, and she fought to control her breathing. They had faced worse before, hadn’t they? But something about being out here, exposed, just the two of them… it made everything feel so much more fragile.

Then she saw it.

The creature appeared out of nowhere — massive, twisted, and more terrifying than anything she’d imagined from Peter’s brief descriptions. It was all elements in one, an unholy fusion of fire, water, earth, and air, swirling together in a chaotic mass that made her heart skip a beat. Her throat tightened, her grip on Peter instinctively tightening as well.

“Peter…” Her voice came out a little more shaky than she intended. “You sure that thing isn’t real?”

Peter hesitated, and she didn’t miss the slight waver in his voice as he responded. “Yeah… it’s just… 100 times bigger than I expected.”

Ingrid swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on the monster as it writhed in the distance. A lump formed in her throat. Fear crawled up her spine, but she pushed it down, forced it into the pit of her stomach where it could simmer, out of the way for now.

"Still the play?" Happy’s voice broke through again, a steady reminder that they weren’t alone, that this was all part of the plan. But was the plan still good? Could they really pull this off?

Peter’s grip on her shifted slightly, his arm tightening around her waist. "Uh-huh," he said, though the uncertainty in his tone didn’t escape her. "We need to get high enough so Beck doesn’t see us coming."

"Copy. Stay sticky," Happy said through the comms.

A brief silence followed, and Ingrid thought for a moment it would stay that way, but Peter suddenly seemed to remember something. "Hey, Happy."

"Yeah, kid. What is it?" Happy asked, distracted, probably checking the controls or focusing on their altitude.

"We need to have a serious conversation about you and my aunt—!" Peter's voice was cut off with a startled yelp as the wind ripped him off the side of the jet. One second he was there, steady and holding onto Ingrid, and the next, both of them were plummeting downwards.

Ingrid’s heart lurched into her throat. Her instincts took over before panic could fully settle in. Without thinking, she extended her palms outward, heat flooding her veins. Fire burst from her hands in controlled blasts, the flames propelling her back upward and slowing her descent. The rush of heat made her feel grounded, in control, even though the world around her was a blur of sky and earth, the monster looming closer with every passing second.

Peter, in contrast, shot a parachute from the back of his new suit. It flared out with a snap, catching the wind and slowing his fall just as her flames did. For a brief second, Ingrid thought they'd managed it. Then, with a sharp rip, Peter’s parachute broke away, but instead of sending him into freefall, sleek web-like wings expanded from his suit, catching the air in a smooth glide.

He moved with such precision and ease that it almost made Ingrid forget the massive, terrifying elemental they were descending toward. Almost.

As they approached the creature, her body tensed, heart hammering in her chest. The size of the thing was still overwhelming, the massive swirl of elements churning like a storm of pure destruction. Ingrid braced herself, unsure of what would happen when they got close.

Peter’s frantic voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “It’s not real! It’s not real! It’s not real!” He repeated it like a mantra, as much to reassure himself as to remind her of the truth. This wasn’t a real monster — it was a projection. But even knowing that, seeing it up close made it hard to believe. Every detail, every flicker of flame and crackle of lightning, felt too real to be an illusion.

The moment they crossed into the hologram, everything shifted. The air seemed to thicken, the light warping around them, but Ingrid stayed focused. She latched onto the first drone she spotted, her fingers gripping the cold metal tightly. Eyes squeezed shut, she forced herself to stay grounded, to focus on her breathing. This was the plan. This was how they would stop it.

Peter’s voice, tinged with awe, pulled her back to the present. “Whoa… that’s awesome.”

Curiosity got the better of her, and Ingrid cautiously opened her eyes. What she saw made her breath catch. The hologram, from the inside, was stunning. Colors swirled around her in vibrant waves, like stepping into a living painting. It was mesmerizing — nothing like the terrifying beast it appeared to be from a distance. The hues shifted and danced around her, blending in ways that made her feel almost weightless, like she was floating through some dream-like dimension.

For a moment, she let herself be still, taking in the beauty of it all. It was surreal, almost peaceful, even though she knew there was still work to be done. She couldn’t help but marvel at the complexity, at how something so deadly could look so… beautiful.

But Peter was already hard at work. With a grunt of effort, he shot a long web across the side of the drone she clung to, pulling himself closer. One by one, he connected the drones, moving quickly but methodically, each strand of web bringing the illusion closer to collapse.

“Let’s hope this works!” Ingrid shouted over the roar of the wind and chaos around them. With a quick flick of her fingers, she sent a small spark of fire towards the nearest webbing. The flame ignited instantly, crawling along the web strands Peter had strung between the drones. The heat caused a chain reaction, sparking each drone with a surge of energy.

The result was immediate. All around them, drones shuddered and powered down, their menacing hum falling silent as the illusion began to shatter. Ingrid and Peter both leapt off the drones just in time, each landing on an unattached one, balancing expertly as they watched the massive hologram dissolve.

The scene before them shifted, revealing a narrow opening in the illusion — an uncovered glass bridge suspended above the ground. Inside, silhouetted against the light, was a lone figure. Ingrid squinted, her eyes narrowing as she spotted two drones hovering ominously over the figure’s shoulders.

"Is that him?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. Her heart pounded harder now, not from fear, but from anticipation. This was the man behind it all. Beck.

Peter’s expression darkened, his usually open and soft features hardening into a grim line. His eyes focused on the figure, every muscle in his body tense with purpose. “It’s him.”

Without another word, they both propelled themselves toward the bridge, launching into the air like they had done so many times before, the wind rushing past them as they closed in on Beck.

But just as they were within striking distance, two drones suddenly crashed into them, throwing them off course. The force knocked the air from Ingrid’s lungs as she spiraled toward the ground below, her body twisting in midair to brace for impact. She hit the pavement with a hard thud, landing in a crouch but wincing as pain shot through her side. Her hand instinctively moved to her ribs, where the force had left a dull ache.

Peter landed beside her, clearly shaken. His breathing was heavy, and they both took a moment to glance up, seeing more drones circling like vultures preparing to attack. Beck remained inside, hidden behind the layer of glass, watching as his mechanical army prepared to strike again.

Ingrid clenched her fists, heat rising through her fingers. The street around them felt too exposed, too vulnerable, but there was no time to worry about that now. The drones were descending, their metal bodies reflecting the harsh sunlight as they zoomed toward them.

“We have to move!” Peter yelled, already leaping into action. Drones swarmed them from every angle, their sensors locking onto their movements. Ingrid threw a blast of fire at the first one, feeling the rush of heat surge from her palms. The drone exploded into sparks, but three more took its place, buzzing dangerously close.

Peter swung through the air, webbing drones together, pulling them off course as best he could. But for every drone they destroyed, it seemed like two more appeared. Ingrid darted to the side, dodging the blinding light of a drone’s laser just in time, her breath ragged as she launched herself across the bridge, kicking another drone out of the sky. The metallic crunch was satisfying, but short-lived as more drones filled the air.

She could hear Peter grunting, his efforts as frantic as hers, trying to take down the relentless machines. “There’s too many of them!” Peter shouted, his voice strained.

Ingrid's heart pounded in her chest as she and Peter darted behind a deserted car, both of them breathing heavily, trying to catch a moment of rest amidst the chaos. Her body ached, the adrenaline only half masking the pain from her earlier fall. She pressed her back against the rusted metal of the car, glancing at Peter, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

For a brief moment, it was quiet. Just the two of them in the eye of the storm.

Then, suddenly, a deafening explosion ripped through the air.

Ingrid's head snapped up, her eyes widening as she saw the jet — Happy’s jet — engulfed in flames. She felt her stomach drop, her pulse quickening with panic. Her mind raced. Was Happy okay? What had just happened?

She looked over at Peter, who was already raising his wrist to the comms, his voice tight with worry. “Happy, are you okay?!”

For a tense moment, there was only static. Ingrid could feel the silence hanging heavily in the air, her thoughts spiraling with the worst possible outcomes.

Then, finally, Happy’s voice crackled through. “Yeah, we’re okay.” His tone was strained but reassuring enough. “Just go get Beck.”

Ingrid let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, her eyes closing for just a second in relief. But there was no time to relax. Not yet. They still had a mission.

Peter glanced over at her, and they shared a small nod, the silent understanding between them clear: they couldn’t let this drag on any longer. Beck needed to be stopped.

With renewed determination, they rose from their hiding spot, their bodies moving in sync as they slipped back into the fight. The air was thick with the metallic whirring of drones, their movements a blur of flashing lights and gunfire. Peter leapt into action first, shooting webs at the nearest drones, pulling them from the sky with sharp, precise movements.

Ingrid followed closely behind, her hands already heating up as flames flickered to life in her palms. She threw blast after blast, aiming for the drones closest to Beck’s location. Each one exploded in a burst of fire and sparks, but no matter how many they destroyed, more seemed to take their place.

They were outnumbered, and the drones were relentless, swarming around them. Ingrid ducked and rolled as a laser shot past her, the heat of it grazing her bare shoulder. Her jaw clenched as she barely avoided another, retaliating with a quick burst of fire that took down another drone.

"How many of these things does Beck have?" Peter shouted, frustration creeping into his voice as he dodged another attack, his webs crisscrossing through the air as he tried to outmaneuver the machines.

"Too many!" Ingrid yelled back, her voice strained as she unleashed another fiery blast.

The battle was wearing them down, and she could feel her energy draining with every punch, every flame, every leap to avoid being hit. But she couldn’t stop. Not when Beck was so close. Not when they had come this far.

Noticing the radio silence from Happy, a pit of unease began to gnaw at Ingrid. Her breathing was ragged as she pressed herself against the side of yet another deserted car, her body tense and alert. Peter, just as on edge, fiddled with his comms, desperation creeping into his voice as he called out, “Happy, say something, please, to let us know you’re alive!”

For a moment, nothing but static filled the comms. Ingrid’s heart pounded, her mind racing with terrible possibilities. Then, finally, Happy’s voice crackled through, sounding winded but steady. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Relief washed over both of them. Peter exhaled loudly, his shoulders dropping for a split second before the tension returned. “Oh, Happy, thank God,” he muttered under his breath.

“I bought us some time,” Happy added, his voice strained. “But not much.”

Peter shifted beside Ingrid, his mind working rapidly through the chaos surrounding them. He glanced at the swarm of drones buzzing above them like a dark storm, unrelenting in their pursuit. “I’m trying to get to Beck, but I can’t shake these drones!” Peter said, his frustration mounting. He turned to Ingrid as if he had just made a decision. "Hold on."

“Hold on to what?” Ingrid barely had time to get the words out before Peter yanked her into his side, his arm wrapping tightly around her waist.

Her heart skipped a beat, both from the sudden contact and the complete lack of explanation. Before she could question him further, Peter shot a line of webbing up to the deserted car. With a swift movement, he hoisted it up and let it drop, the massive weight of the car crashing down onto the drones below.

The sound of metal grinding and glass shattering filled the air, but it barely made a dent in the number of drones still coming after them.

Just as Ingrid started to catch her breath, one of the drones locked onto their position, its mechanical eye glowing a menacing red. In an instant, it fired, a jet of flames roaring toward them. Ingrid’s instincts took over, and she threw up her arms, conjuring a barrier of fire to protect herself. The flames collided with hers, heat against heat, and for a moment it was almost beautiful — if it wasn’t so deadly.

Peter, however, wasn’t as protected. He leaped away, narrowly avoiding the scorching blaze that licked at the ground where he had been standing. Ingrid's heart raced as she watched him dive down, a burst of fear and anger igniting in her chest.

She hated how powerless she felt in moments like this, always one step behind, always reacting instead of acting. It felt like no matter how strong she became, she was still running, always chasing the fight instead of leading it.

Ingrid’s eyes tracked Peter as he disappeared into the chaos, diving out of sight, battling his own swarm of drones. The crackle of fire still echoed in her ears, but now she was alone. She gritted her teeth, her hands still tingling from the force of her power. The drone that had targeted her hovered ominously above, its red eye blinking, as if calculating its next move.

Another wave of drones was already descending toward her. Her muscles tightened as her fight-or-flight response kicked in. The burning frustration in her chest grew, and with a sharp flick of her wrist, she sent a fireball flying toward the nearest drone. The explosion rattled the air, sending metal shards clattering to the ground.

But there were more. Always more.

Three drones converged, their mechanical whirs loud and threatening as they closed in, boxing her in from all sides. The cityscape around her felt tighter, like it was closing in, with the smell of smoke and the echo of destruction filling the streets below.

Her body moved before her mind could fully catch up. She leaped, her feet barely touching the ground before she launched herself higher. Flames burst from her palms, propelling her like a rocket as she vaulted over a crumbling ledge. But the drones were fast, relentless. The moment her boots touched down, one of them shot a barrage of energy blasts that whizzed past her head, close enough to singe her hair.

She ducked behind a half-destroyed pillar, her chest heaving. The ground beneath her was slick with debris, and her body was already screaming in protest from the intensity of the fight. But she couldn’t stop. Not now.

The familiar hum of the drones grew louder as they zeroed in on her position. Her breath caught, her eyes darting around for an opening. She spotted a broken-down vehicle to her right, just far enough to give her a slim chance.

Without hesitation, she bolted, her legs pumping as fast as they could, heart pounding against her ribs. She ducked and rolled just as another drone fired, the blast exploding behind her. She could feel the heat on the back of her neck, but she didn’t stop.

When she reached the vehicle, she crouched down, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Her hand rested against her ribs, pain throbbing where she’d been hit earlier, though she refused to focus on it. There was no time for pain, no time to worry about the bruises she could feel blooming beneath her skin.

The drones were circling, their sensors sweeping the area for her. She could hear the soft clicks of their mechanisms adjusting, preparing for another attack.

Her fingers sparked to life, fire dancing along her palms. She didn’t care about strategy anymore. She just needed to survive. With a low growl, she stepped out from behind the wreckage and flung a concentrated blast of fire at the nearest drone. It hit the mark, and the drone spun out of control, crashing into the ground.

But as the flames flickered out, something sharp and fast struck her from behind. She didn’t even have time to react. The force of it sent her flying forward, pain lancing through her side as she crashed hard into the concrete. Her vision blurred, black spots dancing across her sight.

She tried to push herself up, to get back on her feet, but her body wasn’t listening. The pain in her side burned fiercely now, her muscles trembling from the effort. The world around her was spinning, the drone noises fading in and out like a distant hum. She could still hear Peter somewhere, the sound of his webs snapping and the clang of metal. But it all felt so far away.

She tried to stay focused, tried to fight the encroaching darkness. But her body had taken too much.

She collapsed onto her side, her cheek pressed against the cold, cracked pavement. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the flicker of a drone’s red eye, hovering just out of reach, its form blurry and distorted.

Then, nothing.