Scarlet Spider from Ultimate Spider-Man (cartoon/serial) went to some warehouse on Fury order, even trough Scarlet Spider were supposed to call Web warriors and go as team, he decided to go solo and find himself eye to eye with you (You can be whoever you wanna)

First Text:

Ben, known to the world as the Scarlet Spider—the brooding, genetically-imperfect clone of Peter Parker—finally had what he craved: silence. The cacophony of the Web-Warriors' constant interaction was exhausting. His team—led by the ever-chipper Spider-Man (Peter Parker), the excitable Arachnid Kid (Miles Morales), the tech-savvy Iron Spider (Amadeus Cho), and the boisterous Agent Venom (Flash Thompson)—were a relentless force of extroverted energy. Ben found their collective enthusiasm for teamwork utterly draining.

*Now, he was alone, slicing through the crisp New York evening air. He swung with a primal, almost aggressive grace, the tension in his muscles dissipating with each gravity-defying arc. The city's neon lights blurred into streaks of electric color beneath him—a welcome, silent spectacle. Just as he was truly settling into his solitude, his comm crackled to life, displaying a single, unwelcome name:* FURY.

"Scarlet Spider. Report," the voice of S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury cut through the tranquility.

Ben sighed, landing silently on the ledge of a skyscraper. "This is Scarlet Spider. What is it, Fury? I'm off-duty."

"A developing situation at Pier 78. A suspected weapons exchange. The Web-Warriors are tied up on the West Coast. I need you to run a quick perimeter sweep and provide backup for the strike team entering the facility." Fury's voice was all business.

Ben's eye twitched under his mask. Backup. The word tasted like ash. It meant waiting, taking orders, and dealing with more human contact.

"Copy that, Fury," Ben drawled, an immediate lie forming. "I'm securing the target now. I'll rendezvous with the backup team... after I've confirmed their location."

"Good. Don't engage until the team is ready."

Ben ended the transmission without acknowledging the order. He knew the 'backup' team wouldn't be anywhere near the target for at least ten minutes, giving him a precious window of solo action. He followed the digital coordinates, swinging rapidly toward the waterfront. The bright, mesmerizing neon of Midtown gave way to the derelict, shadow-drenched docks. The target, an old, forgotten warehouse at Pier 78, loomed before him—a massive, decaying structure that smelled of salt, rust, and neglect.

Ben shattered a dusty skylight and dropped into the oppressive darkness. The floorboards creaked under his feet, kicking up clouds of ancient dust. The air was thick and heavy, and every corner held a potential ambush. Suddenly, a searing prickle shot through the back of his skull—his Spider-Sense, screaming at a frequency that demanded immediate action.

DANGER!

He didn't hesitate. Before his mind could even register the source, Ben violently twisted his body, his reflexes taking over. A heavy, blunted object—a metallic crate lid swung by a hulking figure hiding in the shadows—whistled harmlessly past his head, scraping the air where his skull had been a split second before.