Quoted By:
>96
<span class="mu-r">“Fuck off!”</span> you shouted as you webzipped to a Vulture and delivered a flying kick to the side of his face. You could feel his armor crack under the force of your blow.
To be completely honest, “buzz off” would’ve been far more appropriate here. But you were mad, dammit! These bird fuckers swoop down and try to eat off your plate without putting in any of the work? Fuck that!
Having lost his partner, the other Vulture dropped the other end of the cylinder they’d been carrying and whirled on you. He leaned down and brought his sharp metal wings down on you. Feeling that faint tickle again, you anticipated his trajectory and jumped over the attack.
Seemingly blinded by his own attack, the Vulture began looking around frantically, only to spot you as you fired a pair of weblines at the ground around him. You pulled, and brought all of your weight down on his chest with a meaty stomp. By some miracle, his chets didn’t cave in and he simply passed out.
You searched for another foe, spotting another one pulling a man into the air and sinking his shark talons into his shoulder. Heavy rivulets of blood poured from the open wound, and his screams were just barely drowned out by the shouts of those around him.
You fired a web at his chest and zipped over to the guy in the bird suit. He flailed and screamed as you mounted him, but there was no stopping what was coming next.
You pummeled him relentlessly, careful to hold back so as to prolong his suffering. Compared to the strength that you used to tear the latch off of that APC, these were just love taps. But even a love tap from a guy with superhuman strength was enough to knock an asshole out cold.
He fell to the ground, releasing his victim in the process. You repeated this procedure several times over, clobbering anyone that got too close to the truck, and preventing these bird guys from taking anything too valuable. Every now and again, you spotted one or two drifting off to the side and pilfering the corpses of the Blackbird mercs you popped. Unrighteous anger filled your heart, and you swore that you were beginning to see red.
These guys were taking your shit, and you couldn’t do a damned thing about it!
Every now and again, you’d fire a web ball or two in their direction, but they were largely ignored in favor of the loot.
Eventually, the Vultures started to pull back, cutting their losses and disappearing into the smoke above, leaving the rest of your crew a bloody and scraped up mess. For the most part, you managed to protect what was important. At least, that’s what you told yourself.
—--
When Beetle returned, she had various cuts and bruises on her body, her caramel skin exposed in the places where her costume had been torn. Her wings still seemed to work fine, but her descent was shaky at best.
(Cont.)
