Gwen’s coffee splashed onto the marble counter.
A heavy, guttural howl rattled the floorboards. It didn’t make a sound in the air, but Gwen felt it scrape the inside of her skull like rusted iron.
Gwen stiffened. The lingering sleep and the petty jealousy over the maid outfit vanished instantly. Her spider-sense didn’t scream, but a cold itch crawled down her spine. Her knuckles turned white around her mug.
Across the island, Natalie dropped the maid act in a microsecond.
Her eyes went dead. Her center of gravity sank. Her right hand twitched toward the small of her back—exactly where a gun should be.
A second later, she blinked. The polite secretary returned. She picked up a dish towel and wiped up the spilled coffee.
"How secure is the subterranean containment?" Natalie asked. Her voice was flat and tactical.
Gwen slowly turned her head. "That is a very specific question for a fired executive assistant."
"I'm detail-oriented," Natalie replied smoothly. "Mr. Stark’s lab exploded regularly. I learned to ask about structural integrity."
Gwen didn't buy it. Normal people panicked. They didn't calculate containment perimeters.
Ethan pushed his stool back. The wood scraped loudly against the floor. He wasn't smiling anymore.
"Breakfast is over," Ethan said. "The dog is awake."
He walked out of the kitchen. Gwen hopped off her stool, her bare feet hitting the hardwood.
"I'm coming with you."
"No," Ethan said without turning around. "You stay up here."
"Like hell I am," Gwen snapped, blocking his path in the hallway. "That thing tracked me across universes. I'm not sitting on the bench."
"You are exactly what it smells," Ethan countered. "I’m not putting the raw steak back in front of the cage."
"I'm not bait."
"Then let me make sure nobody treats you like bait."
Gwen glared at him. She knew he was right, but she hated it. "Fine. But I'm going down there."
Ethan sighed. "Behind the ward line. Don't speak. Don't react."
"Got it."
Gwen looked back at the kitchen. Natalie was casually sipping her coffee.
"Have you seen monsters before, Natalie?" Gwen asked, her tone sharp.
"I worked for Tony Stark," Natalie said evenly. "I've seen flying metal suits and energy weapons. An ugly dog in a basement is just a Tuesday."
It was a good lie. It just wasn't good enough.
Ethan came out of his study. He carried the glowing green Vulture core safely in a lead-lined box. He had a piece of chalk in his hand and a heavy leather bracer strapped to his forearm.
Natalie stepped out of the kitchen, smoothing her lace apron.
"Do you require assistance with the interrogation, Master Williams?" she asked.
Gwen scoffed. "You're going to help interrogate a multiversal hunting dog? What are you going to do, dust it?"
Natalie ignored her. She kept her eyes on Ethan. "I take meticulous notes. I should understand the pests in this house."
Ethan smirked. He knew exactly what she was doing. Fury wanted intel.
"You can watch," Ethan said. "Behind the salt line."
Gwen threw her hands up. "Why does she get to go?"
"Staff orientation," Ethan said, walking toward the basement door.
Gwen muttered a curse under her breath and followed them down.
The basement was freezing. The air smelled like copper and ozone. Golden light flickered off stone walls lined with iron shelves. Glass jars sat in the shadows, filled with things that scratched and bubbled.
Gwen kept her distance. Her spider-sense buzzed like TV static.
Natalie walked perfectly straight. She didn't look at the jars. She looked at the structural supports and the exits.
Ethan stopped at a heavy steel door covered in glowing Sanskrit runes. He knelt and drew a thick white chalk line across the stone floor.
"Nobody crosses this," Ethan ordered.
He waved his hand. The heavy locks clacked open. The door swung wide.
The holding cell was lined with Mirror Dimension glass. Chained to the center of the floor was the Thread-Hound. It was the size of a bear, with six limbs and mangy gray fur. It thrashed against the glowing orange chains of Cyttorak, snapping its jaws at the empty air.
"God," Gwen whispered, feeling a wave of nausea.
The moment she spoke, the Hound froze.
The frantic thrashing stopped instantly. The beast slowly lowered its massive, wolf-like head. Its six pitch-black eyes ignored Ethan. They bypassed the tactical threat of Natalie.
They locked dead onto Gwen.
The Hound opened its massive, razor-filled maw. It didn't bark. A horrific, distorted voice scraped violently against the inside of their minds.
"Spider..."
Ethan didn't hesitate. He stepped over the chalk line and walked straight into the cell.
"Look at me, mutt," Ethan commanded.
The Hound snarled, straining against the glowing orange chains. It lunged, its jaws snapping inches from Ethan’s leg, but the Eldritch bindings held firm.
Ethan didn't bother asking questions. He channeled the 12% Ben Tennyson synchronization alongside the Dumbledore template, merging Kamar-Taj spirit-binding with the raw, crushing mental pressure of Legilimency.
He raised his right hand and thrust it forward.
A pulse of invisible, overwhelming psychic weight crashed down onto the beast. The Hound whined, its knees buckling as Ethan forced his way directly into its mind.
He didn't just read its thoughts; he pulled them out into the physical world.
The air in the center of the cell shimmered. A jagged, static-filled hologram projected from the beast’s memory, glowing with a sickly, corrupted light.
Gwen gasped, taking a step back. Natalie didn't move, her green eyes tracking every flicker of the projection.
The hologram showed a vast, infinite Web, but the threads were frayed and bleeding. Countless tiny lights flickered across it—Spider-Totems. Then, the image shifted. It showed the green, metallic silhouette of the Vulture picking through a torn, dimensional rift.
"Vulture," Gwen breathed.
"A scavenger," Ethan said, his voice echoing slightly as he maintained the mental pressure. "He wasn't hunting you. He was following the blood trail this thing left behind."
The projection shifted again.
This time, a massive, looming shadow appeared. It stood behind a pack of snarling Thread-Hounds. The figure was humanoid, but radiating an oppressive, suffocating aura of pure malice. It held a heavy, spiked chain in its hand, acting as a leash.
The Houndmaster.
Ethan severed the connection with a sharp flick of his wrist.
The hologram shattered into sparks. The Hound collapsed onto the stone floor, panting heavily, dark blood dripping from its nose.
"It's not an Inheritor," Ethan said, looking back at Gwen. "It’s a Thread-Hound. A bloodhound bred to smell you through damaged layers of reality. Vulture was just a clean-up crew who found the open door."
Gwen crossed her arms, her fingers digging into the oversized charcoal shirt. "So my existence is a dinner bell?"
"Only until I break the bell," Ethan stated coldly.
Natalie watched Ethan carefully. She had dealt with confident men her entire life—generals, billionaires, warlords. But Ethan wasn't just confident. He was declaring war on alternate dimensions, and he looked entirely unbothered by the odds.
A translucent blue screen flared to life in the corner of Ethan’s vision.
[ Main Quest Chain Unlocked: Hide the Spider ]
Problem: Gwen Maxine’s Spider-Totem signature is leaking into nearby dimensional layers. Lower predators and scavengers can follow the trail.
Primary Objective: Create or acquire a Spider-Totem Cloaking Method.
Rewards: Anti-Totem Ward Blueprint, Multiversal Tracker Upgrade, Ben Tennyson Template Synchronization +3%, 5,000 System Points.
Status: In Progress.
Ethan dismissed the screen with a thought.
On the floor, the battered Hound let out a wet, rattling laugh. It lifted its heavy head, its six black eyes locking onto Gwen once more.
"You are already marked," the beast hissed into their minds, its voice dripping with venom. "The Masters know where the Web is bleeding. They will come."
Ethan’s expression turned to absolute ice.
He raised his hand. A heavy, localized gravity well slammed the beast’s head back into the stone floor with a sickening crack.
"Then I’ll mark something back," Ethan promised.
He turned around and walked out of the cell, crossing the white chalk line. He waved his hand, and the heavy steel door slammed shut, cutting off the beast’s groans behind the glowing Sanskrit wards.
"What now?" Gwen asked, her voice tight.
"Now," Ethan said, looking at the lead-lined box containing the Vulture core, "I go see a billionaire about building a blind spot."