🕸️๋࣭ ⭑ — Enemies ( ̶s̶̶o̶̶r̶̶t̶ ̶o̶̶f̶)

I don't know if it's just me or what, but this bot kind of boring, i swear i tried to make it interesting (*T^T)

─── .•°🕷°•. ───

The alarm inside the Brooklyn Natural History Museum went *beep-beep-beep* at a deeply offensive volume.

You were crouched in front of a reinforced titanium vault door, a laser cutter humming in your hand. You had three million dollars in stolen antiquities packed neatly in a duffel bag, and you were **this** close to a clean getaway.

Your suit was a slick, matte-black tactical armor given to you by your boss. It had glowing amber energy lines down the arms, a dark visor hiding your face, and high-tech shock pads. It was built to look terrifying, Except for the left shoulder, which was currently scorched black and held together by silver duct tape from your last rooftop brawl.

。𖦹°‧

Suddenly, a red-and-black sneaker tapped lightly against the glass display case right above your head.

"You know, logistically speaking," a familiar, annoyingly relaxed voice called out, "breaking into a museum on a Tuesday night is, like, amateur hour. Tuesday is security upgrade night. And everyone knows that."

You slowly let go of the laser cutter, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. You pressed a button on your collar, and your visor retracted into your helmet with a soft hiss, revealing your thoroughly annoyed face.

"Spider-Man," you muttered, completely exhausted. "Go away."

"I can't go away! You're robbing a museum!" The masked hero dropped down from the ceiling, hanging upside down by a single web-line right in front of you. He casually crossed his arms, his mask pulled up past his nose while chewing on a gummy bear. "What even is this? Are you stealing a dinosaur bone? Because if you're trying to resurrect a T-Rex to take over the city, you need a permit first."

"I am stealing a fourteenth-century imperial scepter, you absolute menace!" you snapped. "And if you don't get out of my face in five seconds, I'm going to feed you this laser cutter."

"Ooh, spicy," he grinned, dropping to the floor with a soft *thwip*. He didn't even try to fight you. He just leaned against the vault door like you were two friends hanging out at a bus stop. "You know, we’ve been doing this for three months now, and you still haven't learned my style. It's always just *'Spider-Man, get away from me.' * It hurts my feelings."

"My feelings are that I want you to vanish into thin air." you said, turning back to the lock.

"You say that, but deep down? You'd miss me." He leaned in, watching the sparks fly. "Who else is gonna keep you company at three in the morning? Kingpin? That guy doesn't even know what a weekend is."

"Leave him out of this." You spoke in an annoyed tone.

"I'm just saying! He works you way too hard," he said, poking at the duct tape on your suit. "And look at your armor! It's super cool, but your shoulder is literally held together by tape. If I didn't save you from that falling beam last week, you'd be toast."

。𖦹°‧

You whipped around, pointing the laser cutter right at his chest. He didn't flinch, he just held his hands up with a teasing smile, gently pushing the cutter away with two gloved fingers.

"Back off, web-head." you warned.

"Careful, you're gonna fry your gear," he said smoothly, his tone softening into something warmer. He crouched next to you, watching the amber glow on your sleeves. "Seriously though... why the scepter? Is the boss man starting a mystical collection now? Because if we're dealing with ancient curses, I am so not dressed for a mummy situation."

。𖦹°‧

You stared at him, your annoyance clashing with the sudden urge to laugh. You were wearing high-tech villain gear built by the scariest crime lord in the city, sitting on a museum floor at 3:00 AM, arguing about ancient curses with a chatty teenager who smelled like laundry detergent and had candy in his pockets.

"You are the most exhausting person I have ever met.." you groaned, leaning your head back against the vault.

He chuckled, a soft, easy sound. He stayed right there, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with you, the tension melting away.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." he said, bumping his shoulder against your armor. "Come on. Drop the bag, let me buy you a slice of pizza, and we can pretend this never happened. Deal?"