...

At a busy crosswalk during the last few seconds of a green light, a lone pedestrian walked leisurely under a light drizzle. He wore a simple sweater and a hat, forgoing an umbrella.

Suddenly, a red Ferrari screeched to a halt, its horn blaring. A young man poked his head out of the window, shouting, "Move it, idiot! Even an old lady would be faster!"

The pedestrian stopped, turning slowly to face the Ferrari. Raindrops danced in the light from the car's headlights, revealing not a human face, but a devil's mask.

The young driver cursed again, mocking, "What, trying to play dress-up as a devil? Well, I'm Captain America!"

The pedestrian didn't respond, only smiling—a chilling smile that made the driver's bravado falter. His face twisted in shock as he realized that a mask shouldn't smile… unless it wasn't a mask at all.

Panicking, the driver floored the accelerator just as the light turned green. The Ferrari roared forward, but the pedestrian—no, the devil—vanished. The car tore across the intersection, hitting nothing.

The driver glanced nervously in the rearview mirror. There, in the middle of the crosswalk, stood the devil, grinning back at him.

Fear surged, but he felt a twisted sense of relief. His supercar was faster than anything the devil could chase. He sped down the road, racing through the city until he reached the Brooklyn Bridge. Slowing down, the driver exhaled, trying to calm his pounding heart.

But then… tap, tap, tap—a sound from the window.

Chilled to his core, the driver turned to see the impossible: the devil, tapping on the window, having somehow caught up with a car going 60 kilometers per hour.

Terrified, he floored it again, but then a loud crash echoed as something landed on the car's roof. Metal shrieked under pressure. The driver's imagination spiraled, picturing the devil tearing the roof off with monstrous claws.

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In a panic, he lost control. The Ferrari smashed into the guardrail, half of its body dangling precariously off the bridge. The airbags deployed, saving him from serious harm.

But the screech of tearing metal didn't stop.

The devil was still there, slowly ripping the roof away. The man, his limbs frozen in fear, screamed for help.

Then the devil grinned at him through the ruined roof, reaching down with what seemed to be a human hand. Grabbing the man's collar, the devil yanked him from the wreckage, indifferent to his cries and the sound of bones breaking.

"Let's learn some traffic laws," the devil said, still smiling. "Next time, remember to yield to pedestrians, okay?"

The man could only scream, his fear blinding him to everything but the devil's terrifying face.

Just then, a voice called out from behind, "Hey! Mr. Devil, I think you should put him down!"

Lucas—Mr. Devil—turned, recognizing the voice. Spider-Woman, dressed in her black-and-white suit, was hanging upside down from a web, gracefully descending like a spider.

"As you wish," Lucas replied, flinging the man off the bridge.

"NO!" Spider-Gwen shot out her web, catching the man before he could fall. After securing him safely, she approached the devil.

Lucas raised his hands in mock surrender, his smile never faltering. "I did what you asked, Miss Spider."

Her expression was stern. "This isn't funny, Mr. Devil. You'll pay for this."

She shot out her web, but Lucas caught it effortlessly. "What's this? Spider silk? Nice idea..."

Before he could finish, Spider-Gwen yanked the web with surprising strength, sending him flying. He barely managed to stay upright, his Ox Talisman's strength no match for Gwen's superhuman power.

She prepared to strike, her fist aimed at his masked face. But Lucas stretched out his hand, revealing a glowing dragon totem.

Spider-Gwen's spider-sense flared. She leapt back just in time as a pillar of flame shot from Lucas's hand, scorching the ground where she'd stood moments before.

"Dragon Talisman, Explosive Flame!" Lucas announced with a flourish.

Gwen eyed the charred concrete, realizing just how close she'd come to serious harm. Her suit offered no protection against something like that.

Lucas landed, rolling to his feet and dusting himself off with an exaggerated gesture, bowing as if in a ballroom.

"Very elegant, Mr. Devil," Gwen quipped, clapping. "If only your landing wasn't so awkward."

"Thank you for your praise!" Lucas responded, his clothes shifting seamlessly into a tuxedo, though the devil mask remained unchanged.

"Wait… how did you do that?" Gwen asked, intrigued. "Holographic projection? Nanotech? Or some kind of trick? Please don't tell me it's magic—totally unscientific!"

Lucas chuckled, unfazed by her rambling. "Nice to meet you too. I'd love to chat, but I'm afraid we're causing quite the scene. Let's settle this quickly, shall we?"

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