The amusement park gates loomed ahead, tall and colorful, full of promise and the scent of popcorn and fried sugar. Frank Castle stood with his arms crossed, his wife Maria at his side, and their two children—Lisa and Frank Jr.—buzzing with excitement.
"That brat's late. Said five minutes. It's been ten," Frank muttered, eyes scanning the crowd.
Maria chuckled softly. "Come on, Frank. It's a Saturday. Give the kid a break."
Lisa tugged at her father's sleeve. "Daddy, maybe he stopped to get us something! Like a giant pretzel!"
Frank gave a small grunt, but before he could respond, Adrian came jogging up the path, waving one arm, the other dragging along a sheepish-looking teen with tousled brown hair and oversized glasses.
"Half-half sorry, Mr. Frank! Got a little detour!"
Frank raised an eyebrow. Behind Adrian, Peter Parker tried to adjust his glasses and smile.
"So Adrian," Frank said slowly, eyeing the newcomer. "Who's the kid?"
"This is my friend Peter," Adrian replied, throwing an arm around Peter's shoulders.
"Hello, sir! Uh, nice to meet you!" Peter said with a nervous grin, voice cracking slightly.
Frank stared at him for a long second, then grunted. "Fine. One more tag-along won't kill the day. Let's go."
The group dove into the chaos and color of the park. Screams from rollercoasters filled the air. The smell of grilled meat and candy apples hung heavily under the summer sun.
Peter screamed like a banshee on the coaster, clutching Frank Jr., who had both hands in the air and was loving every second. Adrian and Lisa went bumper-to-bumper, with Lisa driving like a tiny demon, laughing maniacally as she crashed into Adrian for the fifth time.
Frank and Maria walked hand in hand, watching their kids—and their extra kids—with quiet smiles.
"Reminds me of a mission I ran in Afghanistan," Frank said. "Except the explosions were real and no one was selling cotton candy."
"Keep the war stories PG, Frank. Kids are present."
They gathered at a shaded picnic table for lunch, trays stacked with hot dogs, fries, and funnel cakes.
"So there I was," Frank began, launching into a well-edited military tale for the kids and Peter, who listened with wide eyes. "Pinned behind a Humvee. Smoke everywhere. Kid my age ran in with a medkit. Took one to the leg but kept going. Never seen anyone braver."
Adrian leaned in, smiling. "Bet the guy he saved turned out to be a superhero."
Frank just smirked.
Peter's phone buzzed.
He checked it casually—then stopped cold. His face paled.
"You alright, kid?" Frank asked, noticing the sudden tension.
"Uh, yeah. I mean, no. uh Adrian, we need to talk. Now."
He grabbed Adrian's arm and yanked him behind a row of booths.
"Four gangs," Peter whispered. "Shootout. Here. Location's dead center where we're eating."
Adrian's expression hardened. "Set-up. Definitely a set-up."
"I'll call the cops and start evacuating. You suit up and prep."
Adrian nodded, darting into a nearby staff tent where he'd stashed his suit. Behind them, laughter still rang from the carnival.
By the churro stand, two gang members exchanged heated words.
"Your boss crossed the line!"
"Say that again, punk!"
BANG BANG BANG!
The shot rang out, and the entire park erupted into chaos. Parents screamed. Children cried. The peaceful day shattered like glass.
Frank dove on his wife and kids, shielding them behind the table.
"Everyone down!"
Adrian, now in his hero gear, launched from the shadows.
"Full Cowling: 7%!"
His body lit with arcs of green lightning as he slammed knee-first into a thug, sending the man crashing through a fried turkey leg stand. The impact cracked the pavement.
He disappeared into his smokescreen, then emerged behind another gangster, dropping him with a precise elbow to the spine. Using Permeation, Adrian slipped through a wall and yanked a terrified couple to safety.
Warp Gate pulsed to life beside him—purple portals blinking open and shut as he teleported injured civilians behind cover.
But the strain was building.
A bullet clipped his side.
Another grazed his leg.
Adrian grunted, dragging himself up. "You still breathing... keep moving."
Peter was on the other end of the park, evacuating people in batches and guiding police with near-constant chatter.
"Zone D is clear! Adrian, there's still shooters by the Ferris wheel!"
Adrian launched skyward using Float, smashing through a sniper's perch and knocking the rifle out of his hands.
More bullets ripped through the air. One caught Adrian square in the shoulder. Blood spattered across his suit.
He landed hard, chest heaving, muscles screaming.
Adrian turned—and saw them.
Frank's family. Maria. Lisa. Frank Jr.
Cornered. Three gangsters. One was aiming.
Adrian's eyes widened.
"NO…"
Time slowed. His vision blurred. Blood loss. Exhaustion. He couldn't reach them in time. Not fast enough.
I GOT TO SAVE THEM!
Every cell in his body screamed. Muscles tore. Bones cracked.
"FULL COWLING: 20%!"
The world exploded around him as he launched like a cannonball.
He threw his body over Frank's family—
BANG. BANG. BANG.
He felt it all. Each bullet ripping into his back. His ribs fractured. His blood spilled.
Click-click.
The gun emptied.
Adrian groaned, trembling. His body broken, shielding the people behind him.
The gangster laughed. "You're done, freak. Should've stayed home."
Then the laughter stopped.
Adrian moved.
He rose—slowly, deliberately. Blood dripped from his fingertips. His arms and legs shimmered with a strange, metallic sheen. His skin had turned a dull, iron-gray.
Hardening.
But not just hardening—an evolved form.
His once jagged and stone-like skin had transformed into something smoother, denser, and darker. It reflected the sunlight in flat sheets, almost like forged steel. His eyes glowed with eerie focus.
His voice was low. Feral.
"You just ran out of ammo."
A malicious grin spread across his battered face.
His teeth looked sharper now.
The gangster stumbled back. "W-What the fuck are you?"
Adrian took one step forward, the ground beneath his feet cracking.
"Let's find out."