The Spider-Man Morlun Hated

Because of an ancient prophecy, the Inheritors had spent generations crossing endless parallel universes. Their sole destiny was to hunt Spider-Men and steal their Spider-Totems.

They were ruthless and bloodthirsty, treating Spider-Men as feasts. No Spider-Man they targeted had ever escaped death.

As one of the family's elite, Morlun far surpassed ordinary spider hunters. His strength, speed, healing, and resilience all overwhelmed Spider-Man under normal circumstances.

Now his scarlet eyes locked on his prey. An agitated aura rippled around him, and he wore the cruel, playful smile of a cat toying with a mouse.

Just as Morlun prepared to finish his one-sided hunt, a sleek black figure swooped from the shadow of a high-rise and landed precisely beside Peter.

A skintight black combat suit hugged her lithe frame. White hair fluttered above sharp eyes that held a wild, lively spark. It was Felicia Hardy.

Or, as the superhero who moved between light and shadow in New York was known, Black Cat.

The moment she landed, Felicia slipped a slender but strong arm around Peter's waist. She steadied Spider-Man before he could stumble and fall, holding him close as she helped him stand.

Her gaze swept over Spider-Man's injuries and battered appearance. Her usual cool arrogance gave way to surprise and teasing.

"Spider-Man, it really is you. Six arms? I can hardly believe it. But you're not looking too good today."

Felicia raised an eyebrow, her tone familiarly teasing.

"Usually you're fearless, swinging over the city and chasing down troublemaking villains. You're so quick even I can't keep up.

"Now you've got four extra arms, so why have you gone all limp? You can barely dodge an attack. You're like a little... weakling with all the fight drained out of him."

With her arm around his waist in public, Peter felt