Shattered glass grazed past Chen Mo's shoulder.
Spider-Man crashed into the Dent House's living room. Before his feet touched the floor, a wave of heat surged through the broken wall.
The explosion had blown open the wall between the kitchen and dining room.
Gas spewed from a ruptured pipe, and fire climbed toward the second floor along the wallpaper and wiring. The chandelier crashed into the dining table, melted plastic dripped onto the carpet, and a black hole soon burned through the middle of the living room.
The entire house had become a furnace in operation.
The gas pipes supplied the fire, the severed wires provided ignition, and the stairs and beams pressed down layer by layer. With every crack, the firebox closed another inch, feeding furniture, documents, and people farther inside.
No one recited a prayer.
The fire still recognized its sacrifice.
Bruce's voice came through the Communicator.
"Before the explosion, there were two heat signatures inside. One in the kitchen, one near the entryway."
"What about now?"
"The drone lost its feed."
"Then we assume they're both still alive."
Chen Mo braced his feet against the wall and climbed over a falling cabinet.
There was no one in the living room.
The stairs had crushed the entryway. A cough came from the kitchen, so faint that the roar of burning gas swallowed it almost as soon as it emerged.
Spider-Sense tugged at the back of Chen Mo's neck.
A burned-through beam fell from above.
Chen Mo raised his hand and fired two strands of webbing, anchoring them to the middle of the beam. He planted his feet against the wall and hauled back with his arms, stopping the beam in midair.
Fire burned along the wood toward the webs.
The white strands near the beam began to yellow,