The Stacy apartment smelled like tomato sauce, garlic, and the faintest hint of burnt toast.
Luffy sat at the kitchen table across from George Stacy, trying not to look too tense as Gwen moved between them, ladling pasta into mismatched bowls. The dining table was small, worn from years of family dinners and quiet mornings with coffee, but it was warm. Lived-in.
"You boys like red pepper flakes?" George asked, holding up a half-empty shaker.
"Sure," Luffy replied.
Gwen grinned. "He'll eat anything."
George raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you've spent a lot of late nights together."
Gwen froze for just a second before chuckling. "Horizon gets intense sometimes. You know how it is. Prototypes. Late testing windows."
George gave her a look that said he knew exactly how much he wasn't being told—but he didn't press. He added flakes to his bowl and sat down.
They ate in relative silence at first. Gwen and Luffy stole occasional glances at each other, silent conversations exchanged through narrowed eyes and half-smiles.
Finally, George broke the quiet.
"The vigilantes have been busy again. Saw something on the news about a weapon shipment that disappeared off a truck. Midtown. No security footage."
Luffy paused mid-bite.
Gwen kept chewing, slowly.
"What kind of shipment?" she asked.
"Military-grade energy capacitors. Origin unknown. The press says organized crime. The precinct isn't sure. Me? I think it's the ghosts again."
"You still track that stuff?" Gwen asked.
George leaned back in his chair. "Always. And I don't need to track everything. Sometimes I just look at the patterns."
He let that hang for a beat too long.
Gwen reached for her water.
Then her wristband buzzed.
Only once. Only for her. Luffy's eyes flicked to her hand immediately.
"Sorry," she said quickly, standing. "We have to check in on a new stabilization prototype. It's time-sensitive. Horizon alert."
George nodded slowly. "Of course. Wouldn't want to delay the future."
The wind was cold as Gwen and Luffy slipped into Field Alpha.
Gwen shed her blazer in one motion, revealing the stealth suit's underlayer beneath. She grabbed her web-gauntlets, tightening the straps with fast, practiced fingers.
"Convoy registered near Midtown Tunnel," she said, eyes locked on the floating map hologram. "No marked insignia, but the vehicle signatures are military-grade."
Luffy had already switched into his reinforced red vest, adjusting his mask and holstering two EMP discs. "Oscorp?"
"Could be. Serial block matches their tech."
"Let's see what ghosts can find."
They launched into the night, Gwen swinging low over the rooftops and Luffy bouncing off scaffoldings like a shadow tethered to nothing.
The convoy rumbled through Midtown beneath amber streetlights, escorted by two black motorcycles and an unmarked cruiser.
Inside the rear truck, crates lined the interior—each one stamped with a three-letter code.
Gwen dropped onto the roof silently, sliding a microcam through the top ventilation slit. The readout flicked onto her visor.
"Confirmed," she whispered. "Capacitors, particle dampeners, early-stage fusion chips."
"Stuff Oscorp shouldn't have."
"Let's take it."
Luffy launched from a nearby rooftop, his body stretching like a slingshot. He hit the lead motorcycle with a rubberized punch, sending the driver flying.
The second tried to swerve but was webbed to a streetlamp by Gwen before it could skid.
Inside the truck, panic broke out. Two armed men drew sidearms just in time to see the rear door explode open with webbing.
Strawhat entered first.
His fist hit one guard in the gut, rubber twisting for maximum velocity. Gwen followed through, sliding under a wild shot and disarming the second with a web-strike to the wrist.
"Four crates," she said, scanning the manifest. "We dump them, trigger the explosives, and disappear."
Luffy nodded. "Leave a signature?"
She pulled a tiny burner from her belt.
On the side of the truck, she etched a familiar mark:
A spider wrapped in a straw hat.
Back at the Stacy apartment, George dozed on the couch, the television volume low. On the coffee table in front of him sat a manila folder—inside: blurred photos, incident summaries, and three newspaper clippings pinned together by red thread.
Gwen stepped in quietly, her suit now hidden under her hoodie. She saw the folder. Saw his sleeping face.
She picked up the throw blanket from the back of the couch and gently draped it over his shoulders.
"Still watching," she whispered.
Luffy waited by the front door.
"He knows," Gwen said, not looking back.
"He trusts you anyway."
Upstairs, in her room, Gwen peeled back her hood and sat on the edge of her bed. Luffy stood in the doorway, his hair still tousled from the mask.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she said. "It's just… one day he's going to ask. Out loud."
"And what will you say?"
She looked at him. "That I never stopped protecting him."
They didn't speak for a while.
Then Luffy added, "We should check the Oscorp shell network again."
She nodded. "Tomorrow. Tonight… I just want to be Gwen."
He smiled softly. "Then be Gwen. I'll keep watch."
And outside, beneath the fog-wrapped city lights, two mythic shapes vanished into the mist.