"Microbots: Restrain Mode!" Penny shouted.
The microbots shot out from her gloves—two sharp lines, one racing toward thief's arms, the other toward her legs.
She had added this sub-function recently as an upgrade to Glove Mode. It was designed to pin attackers in place—and tonight, it was about to be tested on an actual thief.
"Ooh… this just got interesting," Felicia purred, a wide smirk on her face as she sprang sideways with a graceful twist.
Penny's eyes gleamed behind her glasses, surprised—but also impressed—by the thief's lightning-quick reaction to her ambush.
She flicked her wrist, and the microbot whip snapped towards the thief again. More bots crawled up her arms, forming new tendrils as they reached out to bind her target.
Felicia's sharp blue eyes locked on the incoming lines—then she spun.
Her body bent and twisted with impossible agility, weaving through the restraints with ease, microbots slicing the air just inches from her waist.
The moment one line got too close, Felicia dropped low, and with a quick swipe—snikt—her claws sliced through the microbot strand cleanly.
Tiny metallic pieces scattered across the hallway floor.
"Wow, that was close," she said mid-spin, flipping midair to avoid two more strikes before landing softly on the balls of her feet. "Cute toy. Did you make that yourself, little red?"
"Microbots: Reform," Penny called, the broken strands zipping back to her. Her mind raced.
No way she's a regular thief… That agility—like a real cat in human form.
Either she's heavily trained… or something else entirely.
Her eyes flicked to the swishing tail, the sharp black cat ears.
She barely had time to finish the thought.
Felicia was already closing in—fast.
Penny's eyes widened as the thief abruptly appeared right beside her.
"Let's see who this little girl under the hood is…" Felicia said playfully, reaching a hand toward Penny's mask.
"Don't!" Penny blurted, jumping back as she lashed her whips toward Felicia's side.
"Ooh, so mysterious," Felicia purred, flipping back with fluid grace, effortlessly dodging the attack. Her white hair swayed behind her like silk. "Tell me the truth—you don't have a phone, do you? No backup either… and I'm guessing you never actually called the cops."
Penny's eyes narrowed behind her glasses. She stepped forward, trying to calculate the right angle to trap Felicia. But no matter how she moved, Felicia slipped out like smoke—her speed was unreal. Almost inhuman.
"Thought so," Felicia said, tilting her head with a smug smile. "You're just pretending. If you did have a phone, you'd be shoving it in my face or filming me right now."
Penny clenched her fists. She hated how right the woman was. Time for Plan B.
"Microbots: Remote Glove Mode," she called out.
Her right glove snapped free, shooting forward like a spring-loaded punch toward Felicia's face.
"Whoa, that was unexpected," Felicia laughed, twisting aside with catlike reflexes. "But aiming for this beautiful face? Now that's just rude."
CRACK!
The glove sailed past her and struck something behind her—a glass panel.
"Remote Glove: Pull!" Penny commanded immediately.
Felicia blinked in surprise, glancing back just in time to see the glove yank down the fire alarm lever.
A loud, shrill RREEEOOWWW! blared through the hall. Red strobe lights flared to life, painting everything in flashing crimson.
"Now I've actually called someone," Penny said beneath her mask, her smirk just barely hidden. "And considering it's Oscorp Tower, I'm pretty sure the cops will tag along."
Felicia stared at her for a second, blinking—then let out a breathy laugh.
"Well played, little red."
Her black tail flicked behind her as she reached into her belt.
"Looks like this kitty's playtime is over."
She tossed a pair of small pellets to the ground.
Pfft! Smoke exploded instantly—thick, heavy, and blinding.
Penny coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. Visibility was nearly zero. Just vague outlines in the swirling haze. But she knew Felicia would have to pass by her to reach the open lounge window.
Trusting her instincts and mental map, she spun in place, lashing her microbot whips in wide arcs around her—both to the sides and above her head.
The bots extended and cracked through the air like steel cords in the fog.
Clang.
One line clipped something. A bag. Felicia's bag.
The impact was light, but just enough. The zipper she had hastily pulled earlier gave way slightly, and a small plastic container slipped free. It hit the floor with a faint thud—masked by the blaring siren echoing across the hallway.
The container rolled along the floor, bumped into the wall, and popped open.
Something small and black twitched and crawled out.
It skittered through the smoke... just as the detached microbot glove, the one that had pulled the fire alarm, began crawling back to its user.
The creature crawled up the moving glove, unnoticed in the haze.
From somewhere deeper in the smoke, Felicia's voice called out:
"Ciao~"
"Damn it," Penny muttered, realizing the thief had slipped away. She bolted through the smoke, navigating toward the lounge using her mental map.
She stumbled into the room, coughing. The open window immediately caught her eye, and outside, the distant vrrrmmm of a motorcycle engine echoed through the air.
Rushing to the window, she arrived just in time to catch a glimpse of the thief—now helmeted—already at the far end of the alley.
Felicia stopped at the edge, looked up, and casually lifted her helmet visor.
With a wink, she blew a kiss toward the stunned girl at the window—then revved the throttle and vanished into the night.
Penny stood there, chest rising and falling under her mask. She gritted her teeth.
Behind her, the scattered microbots began creeping back toward her bag, drawn automatically by her command. One of them—a glove unit—crawled in, unknowingly carrying a tiny passenger.
Penny didn't notice.
She adjusted her glasses behind the mask and took a deep breath, the adrenaline finally starting to fade.
"Well… that could've gone worse," she muttered, trying to convince herself.
Still, she didn't want to stick around. If the thief was telling the truth, the lab might really go kaboom.
Better to be gone before that happens.
Back in the hallway, the fire alarm continued to blare, red lights flashing in rhythmic bursts. And in a corner, half-hidden in the shadows and smoke, sat a lone plastic container—its lid knocked loose, its insides empty.
A number had been scribbled across it in thick black sharpie.
#00
---
Back in Penny's basement, the floor was spotless—no clutter, no scattered tools or wires. Everything had been tidied up, the workbench now neatly stacked with labeled notes and half-finished projects.
"If Aunt May saw this, she would probably think I invented a cleaning robot," Penny muttered, sitting cross-legged on her bed as she glanced around.
It had been hours since her confrontation with the thief.
Just as she had left the alley, she had caught a glimpse of the small explosion on the 10th floor—plumes of fire and smoke blooming into the night sky. Firefighters were already arriving on the scene, their sirens joined by the screech of police cars pulling in behind them.
She hadn't stuck around to see the aftermath. Instead, she had gone straight home.
But her night was far from over.
The NZT-lite tablet she had taken was still in full effect. Her brain buzzed with clarity, every thought lightning-quick, every task effortless. In that heightened state, she had cleaned the entire basement, completed her spring assignments, touched up a few Microbot upgrades, and even finished—then perfected—her web fluid formula.
She had also filled pages of notes with ideas sparked during the subway ride home—strategies for handling tonight's fight, theories about the thief's identity, and a handful of designs for tools that could have helped her.
She didn't stop there.
She had sent Luke an email from her desktop, detailing the heist and attaching a near-perfect sketch of the cat thief. As a member of the Oscorp board, he would surely believe her and take it seriously. It was the most reasonable course of action—for now. If anyone could catch that cunning thief, it was Luke.
Eventually, the drug's effect began to wear off.
Penny could feel the mental momentum slowing. The flood of ideas, the rapid clarity—it was starting to fade. She still had a few more variants of the drug tucked away. A part of her wanted another dose.
It's addicting… seeing your brain fly like that, she thought.
Honestly, these past few hours had been the most productive of her life.
But then she remembered Luke's warning: only take it in emergencies. Extended use wasn't safe, not without serious consequences. He had mentioned an immunity shot that could make the drug safer with repeated use—but back then, she had shrugged it off.
If Aunt May finds out I'm taking unprescribed pills, she would actually kill me.
Still…
Maybe it was time to take Luke up on that offer.
"Now what…" Penny muttered, flopping onto her bed with a groan as the exhaustion finally caught up to her.
"That thief was definitely weird. Even with the microbots and the NZT enhancement, she was still faster. In fact…" Penny rolled onto her back, arm flopped over her eyes. "She was just playing with me. Reading my every move. Sigh… maybe the drug's just making me feel invincible when I'm clearly not."
She exhaled hard, then cracked a small, lopsided grin. "Though she was really hot…"
That thought sat in her head a little too long before she sat up abruptly.
"Nope. Nope. Not thinking about that. That's a slippery slope. A really sexy, cat-themed slippery slope."
She paused.
"…Though people online do say everything feels different when you're high…"
Penny leaned over, yanked her bag over, and began taking off her t-shirt. "Purely scientific. Definitely still in the name of science."
She kicked off her pants and flopped back against her pillows. "Activate Microbots: D-1 Form," she murmured, letting her mind go into overdrive — faster, more vivid, enhanced by NZT-lite. The microbots stirred to life at the foot of her bed, crawling forward.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she smirked. "Okay… now imagine Luke as handsome as always. And the sexy thief. All three of us. Hypothetically naked. Definitely just a mental experiment..."
The microbots were nearing her hand, forming into shape. But something else had hitched a ride.
"Ohh yeah… Luke, let's punish this naughty kitty together…" She muttered with a perverted grin as she pushed the dildo to her pussy.
"Ohh…Ah…OW! What the—!?" Her eyes flew open, the dildo falling off her hand, as a sharp sting hit her just above her private parts.
She sat bolt upright and looked at the red spot forming there.
Her sharp brown eyes spotted a tiny black spider tumbling off the dildo onto the bedspread. It had a strange reddish mark along its back — a glint of eerie familiarity sparking in her mind.
Her heart skipped.
"Oh my god. Oh no no no—"
She scrambled for a tissue and a glass, trapping the spider with practiced panic. She placed the glass carefully on her bedside table, staring at the twitching insect with wide eyes.
"That's… that's the lab spider. The one in the #0 container. It must've gotten into my bag back at Oscorp!"
She stared down at her vagina, poking the red mark.
"Are you serious?
I have been bitten by a radioactive spider on my pussy!
While I was masturbating!!
Can this be called the deadliest love bite?!
What even is your life Penny Parker??"
She stepped off the bed—
—or tried to.
A wave of vertigo hit her like a train, and she collapsed back onto the mattress.
Sweat formed rapidly on her skin. Her breathing grew ragged.
Inside her, things were shifting. Cells warping. DNA rewriting itself.
The only witness was the spider in the glass — tapping gently against the side, its job apparently done.
***
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