ã€ŠWeb of Liesã€‹


 The Night Of The Lizard

    EVER feel like the universe has a twisted sense of humor?

    Yeah, that''s pretty much my life.

    I''m Peter Parker. Six months ago, a radioactive spider decided to make me its personal science experiment. Overnight, I went from awkward teen to... well, awkward teen with superpowers.

    At first, I thought that bite was the moment everything changed.

    I was wrong.

    See, that spider gave me strength, speed, and sixth sense that puts seeing dead people to shame¡ªit''s a movie reference¡ªAnyways, I used them to make money, thought I was helping out at home. Thought that was the reason I got these powers.

    Wrong again.

    The real moment that changed my life was the day I lost Uncle Ben. That''s when I realized something he used to always tell me, something I didn''t quite get until it was too late...

    With great power comes great responsibility.

    So now, I''m the "Amazing Spider-Man." Okay, amazing might be pushing it. How about the "Spectacular Spider-Man"? ...No? Alright, we''ll stick with Spider-Man for now.

    And what does that job entail? Usually keeping the city safe from your everyday criminals like...

    "The Easter Bunny?" I mutter, swinging onto the scene. A girl in a rabbit suit is sprinting out of a bank with a bag of cash.

    No way. The Easter Bunny robs banks?

    I fire a web at the money bag, stopping her in her tracks. "What''s up, doc?"

    She turns to me, unimpressed. "Wrong rabbit, genius." Then she yanks me in by my own web and clocks me across the face.

    I just got punched by a rabbit.

    Awesome.

    I flip backwards, dodging her next swing, and start webbing her up from all angles. She''s fast, but I''m faster. Before she can finish her next insult, I have her cocooned in webbing. "Hey, what are you mmmrrfffff¡ª"

    "Silly rabbit," I grin, pulling out a scrap of paper from my backpack, "bank robberies are for felons." I say with a smile, scribbling "busted" on the scrap of paper, slapping it on her forehead, and taking out my phone for a quick selfie. "Look, I''d love to stay and chat, but I''m late for class. Say cheese!"

    She glares through the webbing, muttering angrily.

    "Good enough," I say, snapping the picture just as the cops roll up. "Finally! This Spider''s got a tight schedule, y''know?"

    Captain Stacy steps out of his squad car. He looks at me, hand hovering near his gun. Used to be friends with his daughter, Gwen, back when things were simpler. But these days, we''re not exactly in the same circles.

    "You know we''re going to have to bring you in for¡ª"

    "Yeah, yeah, paperwork''s not really my thing," I say, firing a webline to the nearest rooftop. "You guys got this, right? Cool! See ya!"

    I swing off, bouncing between rooftops.

    Losing Uncle Ben taught me something I''ll never forget. I hung up the wrestling suit and built myself these web-shooters. I promised to never let these powers go to waste again.

    Because now, I know better.

    I''ve got a responsibility.

    And right now, that''s making it to school.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Peter? Peter, are you listening?"

    I look up from my desk still. "Yeah. Yeah, you were talking about Lizards right?"

    "Lizar¡ªWhat?" Harry asks. "No, man. I was asking you if I should ask out Felicia. Is it a good idea or no? And honestly even if you say no, I''m just gonna do it."

    I shrug. "I don''t know. She''s...Strange."

    "By strange do you mean really hot? Because in that case she''s really strange." Harry turns in her direction. "Super strange. Mega strange."

    I look over at her sitting by herself in the back, she never really spoke much. She always kept to herself mostly. "No, I don''t mean it in that way. I mean the normal strange. I mean why is she always wearing black? Why does she hide cats in her locker? Where did she even come from?"

    "Don''t know don''t care." He says standing up. "I''m gonna go talk to her."

    I chuckle lightly. "Go for it. But don''t say I didn''t warn you."

    "You didn''t."

    "Oh."

    We both stare at each other for a few seconds.

    "Harry, don''t do it."

    Harry shakes his head. "Whatever. Just watch and learn Parker."

    He walks over to her and places a hand on her desk, I can immediately see her face go from bored to disgusted. I can''t bare to see what happens next so I turn away and try and think back to last nights fight with the lizard.

    He got away. Again.

    I''ve only been doing this Spider-Man gig for half a year now and it hasn''t gotten any easier. Most of the time I''m lucky to even make it back alive, let alone on time for Aunt May''s curfew. It''d make things a lot easier if the bad guys learned to stay down after the first punch. I mean, I don''t think I have any more ribs left to break.

    "Hey, Peter. I got someone I''d like to introduce you too." I hear from behind me.

    I turn to see Harry with the girl Felicia on his side holding him with her head placed on his shoulder. "I think we''ve met." I say trying to avoid eye contact with her.

    "Well, let me reintroduced you to my new girlfriend." He says with a smile.

    "Nice to meet you." She says. "I hope we can get along." She reaches a hand out for me to shake which I take hesitantly.

    "Yeah. Same." I say awkwardly.

    "You got any plans tonight, Pete?" He asks me.

    He knows that I don''t. Well, that Peter doesn''t. But Spider-Man is all booked up, and I''ll give you one guess why. First name ''the'' last name ''Lizard''.

    Can''t let him keep wondering around in the sewers aimlessly. He''ll either end up hurting himself or someone else if this continues on any longer.

    "Actually, I have thi¡ª"

    "Perfect! You can come by my place at nine, I wanna show Felicia that new thing we''ve been working on." He says holding her tighter.

    "Well, like I was saying I''m actu¡ª"

    "I don''t know, Harry. He seems like a busy man, probably doing someone''s homework or something." She says with a sly smile.

    I grit my teeth.

    "No way. Peter only does my homework." He says obliviously.

    Felicia purrs. "Come on, Harry. I thought it would be just you and me tonight."

    "Yeah...but...Pete''s my best friend. He''s gotta go. Right Pete?" He asks.

    How can I say no to that? He seems so¡ª

    "And also he makes a mean lasagna. So I was hoping he would cook some for our first official couple meal." He continues.

    I smile defeatedly. "Yeah sure. But just for tonight."

    Looks like Spider-Man has the night off.

    But...is this really the right thing to do?

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Peter, good to you see you. How''s your aunt?"

    Mr. Osborn greets us at the door, he''s always so nice to me. I would kill for him as a father, he seems so genuine and caring. The money wouldn''t hurt either.

    "I''m good, Sir. And she''s just as vibrant as ever. She''s actually working on starting up her own restaurant right now." I say.

    He smiles. "That''s good to hear. And who may I ask is this?" He says his eyes turning towards Felicia.

    Harry gently pushes her forward. "She...Dad. Is my new girlfriend."

    "Hello, Sir. It''s a pleasure." She says, that same sly smirk on her face.

    Mr. Osborn smiles back. "The pleasures all mine. Please, come in, I was just about to get dinner started. Harry, any requests for tonight?"

    "Actually, Peter is going to be making dinner for us tonight Dad, so don''t even worry yourself." Harry says nudging my back.

    "Uh. Yes, Sir. Harry wanted me to make my Aunt''s lasagna recipe. It''s pretty popular in our neighborhood." I say sheepishly.

    "Well then. Shall we¡ª"

    His phone goes off.

    "Excuse me for a moment." He then moves past us and down the large parking lot that he owned in front of the mansion. Harry looks back at his father with a sense of longing, I''m sure he wants his father to spend time with him.

    Honestly, I can''t blame him. The guy is always busy, if he isn''t at work he''s in his office at home. I''m sure Harry would appreciate some father-son time.

    "L-Let''s get inside." Harry leads us both in and I expected to see Felicia go, ''ooo!'' or ''ahh!'' but she just kept that same smirk. "This is the inside. It''s a lot smaller than it looks."

    "It''s plenty big." She says.

    The door opens behind us and I see that it''s Harry''s father. "Son, somethings come up so I can''t stay for dinner unfortunately. I hope you enjoy yourselves while you''re here, if there''s anything you need Harry will make sure it''s provided. That goes for both of you." He says to Felicia and I.

    "Thank you, Sir." I say.

    "Have a good night." Felicia says.

    "Y-Yeah. See you later, Dad."

    Mr. Osborn nods then is out the door as quickly as he came in. Harry takes a few moments before speaking again. "Okay, we got the house to ourselves. Isn''t that great?" But it seems like he was just trying to force himself to believe that. I''ve known Harry since we were five. I can tell when somethings bothering him.

    "Pete, why don''t we get started on dinner?" He says looking over at me with a smile.

    "Sur-"

    I get a notification on my phone. It''s a police report about the Lizard, apparently he''s being cornered by the police in an abandoned zoo. But...can I trust that they''ll be fine?

    No. No, this isn''t right. He isn''t as mindless as the police think. If they found him then it must''ve been...because he wanted them too.

    "Harry, somethings come up. I''ve gott¡ª"

    "No way, man! You''re always leaving last minute. Can''t you just stick around for once? I mean my Dad already left, you can''t go too." He pleads. "Come on. Please?"

    This is the part of the job I hate the most.

    "I''m...sorry. I''ll make it up to you."

    "Pete!" He yells after me, but I''m already out the door.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    There''s something about swinging two-hundred feet in the air that makes you really think. Maybe it''s the New-York streets below, or the roar of planes above. But it gives me this sense of calming, like this is what I''m meant to be doing. But who really believes in destiny?

    That doesn''t matter right now, because currently I''m about to make my way towards the Seneca Park Zoo.

    Where the Lizard a.k.a Doctor. Conners currently is. He was a professor at the university I was interning at. He was the nicest man, he and his wife. They also had a daughter around my age, she never really seemed interested in their work though.

    They showed me all sorts of research projects that they were currently working on, It always seemed so controlled. They always told me they had everything under control. They''d work on researching how to use animal DNA to improve human life, and I always found it so fascinating.

    Then one day Doctor. Connors showed me that he was working on a serum laced with Lizard DNA to regrow lost limbs. You see, the Doc had an incident a few years back and the result was a lost arm and a broken marriage, and well...the explosion that took his arm...also took his daughter.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    He lost his job at Oscorp and his wife never forgave him. I don''t think he ever forgave himself either. It was devastating news to hear, and I remember seeing his face the last time we''d officially spoken. It didn''t seem like he was the same nice and generous man anymore.

    Though how can I really blame him? He lost everything. He continued his experiments, until one day...well...you know the rest.

    I finally arrive at the empty abandoned zoo, where obviously there isn''t a single person. Which is good because now I won''t have to worry about someone getting hurt.

    Except for me.

    I swing around looking for any sign of Doc Conners or the police officers. But I see none, until I happen upon a lions den where people could go to get a look at the king of the jungle. But now it''s an empty cage with the metal bars ripped apart like something broke out of it, or maybe...broken into.

    I swing towards the top of a lions den and a hole leading somewhere underground is on the inside. "That doesn''t look menacing at all. But that''s gotta be where Conners is. And hopefully the officers as well."

    I make my way down the tunnel of doom until I can finally see a light of some kind. Once I get there I can see four bodies on the ground, they''re the police officers. Their bodies are being...eaten by a multitude of small lizards.

    "B-Back off!" I yell, stomping around the lizards in puddles of what I can only assume is sewer water. "Get away from them!" The lizards scamper off leaving me with the corpses of the officers.

    Their bodies unrecognizable. I lift up my mask puking on the ground, it''s one of the worst sights I''ve ever seen. It''s the reality of fighting against these kinds of people, I want to save everyone...but sometimes...you can''t.

    "I should''ve...I should''ve gotten here sooner."

    I kneel down closing the eyes of the officers...well the ones that still have some to close.

    I grab the flashlight that was still on and continue down the dark tunnel. My heart was racing, I wanted to run away and go hang with Harry.

    But I know that if I did more people would end up hurt or even worse dead. There''s scratch marks all along the sides of the tunnel wall, and chunks of meat and bones which I can only hope aren''t people.

    It doesn''t take long for me to reach the end of the tunnel and enter some sort of work space, there''s an old desk with a computer and vials of god knows what just sitting in the middle of a pitch black room. There are papers littered everywhere.

    I wonder what they''re for.

    I check the paper seeing exactly what''s written on it, some sort of formula, a formula I''m guessing that''s to perfect the lizard transformation. But there are also photos of the inside of people. More specifically their organs, why would these types of photos be lying around? A menu? It makes me sick just thinking about it.

    That''s when I feel something slimy begin to wrap itself around my neck. I try to move but then the slimy thing tightens it''s grip around me and squeezes my neck choking me.

    I grab the slimy thing using all my strength to pull it down from wherever it came from slamming it hard on the ground. The grip of it loosens as the main body comes crashing down to the concrete, and I can see that when it begins to stand up...It''s the lizard.

    He towers above me his teeth foaming with blood, and his eyes glowing an intense yellow. His torn lab coat still on his body and his pants in the same condition.

    "Not...yet...." He says. "Not....done...yet."

    "Doctor Conners? Wh-What have you done? Do you realize how many people you''ve killed?!" I scream. "You have to turn yourself in! Think about Vanessa...what would she..."

    He charges at me slamming me into a wall before slicing at my chest with his razor like finger nails. I could feel the blood begin to trickle from my suit and onto the ground beneath. "That''s gonna sting for a while." I say painfully.

    He tries to swing at me again but I shoot a web into his eyes blocking his eyesight, I use this opportunity to slide through his legs webbing his back and pulling him down hard on the floor. He stands up quickly hissing at me, then charging once more.

    I charge right back at him jumping right before we collide landing my foot in his face using the momentum to bounce back from him a bit then webbing him and launching myself right towards his chest this time with a double kick in the gut. I hit him with an uppercut breaking a few of his fangs in the process.

    "I won''t let you hurt anyone else!" I say as he leans against the wall for support after that last punch.

    "How...about....you?" He growls.

    "Uhm." I say but he''s already charging at me, I move to evade but he''s got my leg and bites down onto it causing me to scream in pain.

    I use my other foot to crack his jaw which releases his grip on me and I put a few feet of distance between us. But he closes them in seconds and tackled me through the concrete wall and into another part of the tunnel.

    He uses his tail to hold me by my neck, I try and pry it off but he begins throwing punches into my chest which causes blood to erupt from my mouth and all over my mask.

    "Doctor...Connors..." I say weakly. "You have...to stop..."

    He releases me from his tail grabbing me by the throat with his hands. I try to fight back but at this point all my strength has left me. He peels back my mask and takes a look at my face. His reptilian eyes widen as he realizes who I am.

    "Pe...ter...." He says. "Pet...er..."

    He drops me to the ground.

    "Peter...Peter..." He says his hands clutching the top of his head. "Can''t...kill...should...kill..." He looks up at me roaring with the might of ten lions before running back through the hole he smashed me through and out of sight.

    I just lay on the ground in a pool of my own blood. "Yeah..." I cough. "You better run..."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    That night, after scraping myself off the ground, I stumbled back into the alley where I''d stashed my school bag. The alley was just north of the dilapidated building I called home, and my bag had some clothes that weren''t blood-soaked or torn. I needed them. But the whole time, blood dripped from my bruised, swollen body. My legs wobbled as if each step might be my last. The fresh black eye I''d be sporting the next morning would just be the icing on the cake. School had become a parade of injuries lately.

    Walking through the streets of New York at night, covered in blood, was like strolling through a freak show. People didn''t see a kid in trouble¡ªthey saw a sideshow act. I could feel their eyes on me. A few looked like they wanted to call someone¡ªmaybe the cops, maybe an ambulance¡ªbut I threw on my best smile and muttered the same line, "Method actor, folks! Just method acting."

    Some laughed it off, some didn''t. Didn''t matter. I kept moving, each step harder than the last, until I spotted her: Felicia. Brown-haired, sharp-eyed Felicia, standing on the corner. There was something new in her eyes when she caught sight of me. Concern, maybe. She rushed over, a crease forming between her brows.

    "Peter? What the hell happened to you?"

    I tried to smile again, but this time it came out more like a grimace. "I-I''m a method actor?" My voice sounded weak, even to me.

    She didn''t buy it, of course. "You need to get to a hospital," she said, looking me up and down. "You''re bleeding all over the place."

    Before I could protest, she was already moving toward me, slipping her arm around my shoulders. The contact hurt, but I didn''t pull away.

    "No," I coughed, wincing at the sharp pain it sent through my ribs. "No hospital."

    Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, no hospital? You could¡ª"

    "No hospitals," I repeated, trying to sound firm, though my voice was more a hoarse whisper than anything.

    Felicia wasn''t one to back down easily, though. She gave me a long, concerned look, then sighed. "I can''t just leave you bleeding out on the sidewalk, Peter. You''re coming with me."

    I tried to argue, though every breath felt like I was inhaling fire. "I can''t. I have a curfew."

    Felicia raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "At 2:00 in the morning?" She started dragging me along with her, her grip surprisingly strong for someone who looked like she hadn''t seen a gym in years.

    "My Aunt May''s gonna freak out," I muttered, but the fight was leaving me fast.

    "Yeah, well, that''s a risk I''m willing to take," she said with a small, determined smile. "You can''t exactly stop me, can you?"

    The streets grew quieter as we made our way through a more deserted part of town. Felicia hadn''t said much after that, but I could feel her glancing over at me every few minutes, like she was dying to ask what really happened. I finally broke the silence with the lamest excuse I could come up with. "I... I fell."

    She snorted. "Yeah? Down a flight of stairs? Or was it an entire skyscraper? Come on, Peter, no one gets injuries like these from just falling. What really happened?"

    I couldn''t tell her. Not about the fight in the sewers. Not about the Lizard. And definitely not about the fact that I was Spider-Man. So, I swallowed hard and tried to sound casual. "It''s... it''s complicated."

    Felicia stopped walking for a second, staring at me, then sighed. "Of course it is." She seemed to be weighing her options, then said, "I''ve got a first aid kit at home, but I don''t know if it''ll be enough. You should really see a doctor, Peter."

    I could hear the frustration in her voice, but I was too tired, too sore, to care. "Noted," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

    Felicia''s expression hardened. "I''m just trying to help, you know."

    I winced, realizing how I sounded. "Yeah, well, nobody asked you to."

    Her face softened, but she didn''t back down. "It doesn''t matter, Peter. When someone''s in trouble, you help. That''s how it works. You don''t just walk away."

    Her words hit me harder than I expected. They echoed the very reason I put on the Spider-Man mask in the first place. She was right, and the realization made me feel like an even bigger jerk. "I''m sorry," I said quietly. "Thank you, Felicia. I mean it."

    She nodded, accepting the apology without a word, though I could see her shoulders relax a little.

    "Felicia! Hey, Felicia, over here!" a voice called from behind us, breaking the moment.

    We both turned to see a group of four guys approaching. One of them, a tall guy with a backward red cap and a white shirt emblazoned with "Playboy," swaggered toward us like he owned the street. I didn''t have to guess; this was most likely one of Felicia''s "friends." The kind of guy who probably lived for getting in trouble.

    Felicia turned toward him, her lips curving into a smile, though it didn''t quite reach her eyes. "Roman, what are you doing out here?" she called back, a little too casual.

    Roman''s gaze locked onto me as Felicia half-carried me down the street. His backward cap and cocky grin screamed trouble, and I already knew this wasn''t going to be a friendly chat. "Who''s this guy?" he asked, nodding at me, his cigarette dangling from his lips before he flicked it to the ground.

    Felicia hesitated, glancing my way. "He''s... my cousin," she lied, trying to keep her voice steady. I could hear the faint waver.

    Roman smirked, stepping closer, his eyes roaming over my torn-up clothes and the blood that probably made me look like I''d just walked out of a horror flick. "Looks like he had a rough night."

    I scoffed, still leaning on Felicia. "What gave you that impression?"

    Roman''s smile faltered, the playful glint in his eye fading. He didn''t like being challenged.

    Felicia shot me a sharp look. "Yeah, he got beat because he doesn''t know when to shut his mouth," she said pointedly, like a scolding parent. Her words were a signal: shut up before you make this worse.

    Roman''s eyes flickered between us. "I can see that." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small plastic bag filled with little green pills, shaking it slightly. "Hey, you two should crash with me tonight. We got some new stuff. You''ll like it."

    Felicia''s expression tightened. "What is that?"

    Roman''s grin widened, proud of his find. "Don''t know exactly, but I heard this stuff''s crazy. Everyone''s losing their minds over it." He tossed the bag lightly in the air, catching it in a way that made me uneasy.

    "That''s great," Felicia said, brushing him off. "But he''s hurt bad. I need to get him home." She didn''t wait for him to argue, turning us back toward her place.

    I glanced over my shoulder at Roman, and the look he gave me... it sent a shiver down my spine. It was the same look Flash gave me before he shoved me into a locker, the same look my enemies threw my way just before a fight. Roman might''ve been smiling, but his eyes promised trouble. I''d have to watch my back around him.

    Felicia fumbled with her keys as we reached her apartment, finally unlocking the door and pushing it open. The place was dark, and when she flipped the switch, the light flickered weakly before casting a dull glow over the room. It wasn''t much¡ªan old, torn couch with stuffing poking out, cans and bottles littering the floor. The place looked like it had seen better days, probably before I was even born. The whole scene reminded me how different Felicia''s life was compared to someone like Harry, whose penthouse was like a palace in the clouds.

    "Sit," she said, nodding toward the couch. "I''ll get some gauze for those wounds."

    I limped over and collapsed onto the couch, trying not to think about the stains on the carpet or what might''ve caused them. My head spun, and my vision blurred, but I still noticed the cat¡ªa sleek black feline that padded out from the shadows. It purred softly as it rubbed against my leg, and for a brief moment, I forgot about the pain.

    But then it all came crashing back. My chest felt like it was on fire, and my leg wasn''t doing much better. I pressed my hand against my soaked shirt, the blood sticky and warm against my skin. It was bad. Real bad.

    Felicia returned, her arms full of medical supplies. She sat next to me on the couch and gave me a look, half-joking, half-serious. "You still alive?"

    I winced, trying to smile through the pain. "Ask me again in ten minutes."

    She pulled up my shirt, her face going pale when she saw the three jagged claw marks that raked across my chest. "What... did this to you?"

    I didn''t answer.

    Felicia sighed, grabbing a tube of ointment. "Fine. Be mysterious." She spread the ointment on the wounds, and it burned like hell. "Ow!" I hissed, clenching my fists.

    "Don''t be such a baby," she muttered, smirking a little as she worked. Her eyes flicked over the other scars that decorated my chest¡ªreminders of the life I couldn''t tell her about. Her fingers hesitated over one of the older marks, and she looked at me, a frown forming. "Who are you, Peter Parker?"

    I met her gaze, trying to play it cool. "You just said it, didn''t you?"

    Felicia shook her head, exasperated but didn''t push further. She wrapped my chest in bandages as gently as she could, but it still hurt like hell. Her eyes moved lower, toward the dark stain on my jeans near my knee. "Is that also injured?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

    I nodded, biting back a groan as the pain flared again.

    "Take off your pants," she said, her tone casual.

    My cheeks flushed. "W-What?"

    Felicia rolled her eyes. "Don''t be a child about this. Just hurry up."

    I reluctantly unzipped my jeans, sliding them off to reveal the deep bite mark on my calf. Felicia''s eyes widened, and she shook her head in disbelief. "You seriously expect me to believe you just ''fell''? Looks like you got mauled by a bear."

    I groaned. "Please... just stop asking."

    Felicia huffed but didn''t press the issue. She treated my leg the same way she had my chest, her touch surprisingly gentle despite the sting of the ointment. "This should stop the bleeding and prevent infection," she said, her voice softer now. "But you should really go to a hospital."

    I stood up slowly, testing the bandages. "Thanks, but I''ll be fine. Just... please don''t mention this to anyone, especially Harry."

    Felicia narrowed her eyes, her arms crossed. "You can''t go home like this. You can barely stand, let alone walk home."

    "I can''t impose on you anymore. I''ll just¡ª"

    "Jesus, Peter, sit down," she said, cutting me off. "You''re staying here tonight. I''ll get you some blankets, and you can crash on the couch. I''ve got some clothes that''ll fit you, but they''re my dad''s."

    "It''s fin¡ª"

    "Peter," she said, giving me a look that told me arguing wasn''t an option. "Just... let me help you."

    I slumped back onto the couch, exhausted and grateful despite myself. "Thanks," I muttered.

    Felicia gave a small nod and headed off to find the blankets, leaving me alone with my thoughts¡ªand the lingering pain of secrets I couldn''t afford to share. She comes back handing me a a blanket that felt as cheap as it looked, "thanks," I say.

    Then she grabs a remote from off the floor and starts playing something on the television. I sit still, thinking back to the sight of all the dead police officers, wondering if maybe I had left Harry''s house just a bit sooner...could I have saved them? It''s my responsibility to take care of him now, and make it so he can''t hurt anyone ever again. Hopefully that includes myself.

    The room was dark except for the flicker of the TV, casting long shadows across Felicia''s small, cluttered apartment. She sat on the couch, her hand propping up her face, her eyes half-focused on the screen. Despite her casual posture, I could feel the tension between us, heavy and awkward.

    "You wouldn''t happen to have a phone charger?" I asked, breaking the silence, my voice hoarse from exhaustion.

    "Nope," she said, barely glancing my way.

    I let out a frustrated sigh. Without my phone, Aunt May was going to lose her mind. She was already protective¡ªthis would only make things worse.

    "So, where''s your dad?" I asked, grasping for anything to fill the silence. "Work?"

    Felicia''s gaze didn''t shift. "Yeah."

    "What does he do?" I added, trying to keep the conversation alive, despite the obvious friction.

    "I don''t know," she said, her voice sharp now, like I was getting too close to something she didn''t want to talk about.

    I swallowed hard and decided to take the hint. Shutting up wasn''t something I was great at, but now felt like the right time. The room fell back into its uncomfortable quiet. Felicia stayed on the couch, her eyes glued to whatever was on TV, and I just sat there, my body aching, my mind racing. I could almost hear Aunt May''s worried voice in my head, demanding to know where I was, why I wasn''t answering my phone.

    After a while, Felicia''s breathing slowed, her head tilting slightly to the side¡ªshe''d finally fallen asleep. I shifted in my seat, my body screaming in protest, and reached for the remote. The news flicked on, and instantly my heart dropped into my stomach.

    A live report. Oscorp. The Lizard.

    The reporter''s voice was tense, describing how the police were surrounding the building, prepping for a raid. I didn''t need her to spell it out for me¡ªMr. Osborn, had been working late tonight. If the Lizard was there, it wasn''t just a random attack. There was something more going on.

    My chest tightened, It was like a twisted d¨¦j¨¤ vu, but this time it wasn''t some random attack¡ªit was more personal. Harry''s dad worked there, and if I didn''t go... who knows what could happen.

    I look at Felicia''s sleeping form, her head resting on the back of the couch, her breathing steady. The room was dim, illuminated only by the flickering light from the old TV. She looked peaceful, completely unaware of the chaos that had just erupted. I bit my lip, torn between staying put, recovering, and doing the smart thing¡ªor running headfirst into what could be the most reckless decision of my life.

    I let out a quiet sigh, knowing there was only one option. There was always only one option.

    Still, I couldn''t just disappear without a word. That wouldn''t be right, especially after everything she''d done for me. I scribbled a quick note on a scrap of paper:

    ***Thanks for everything. Decided to head to the hospital. Take care of yourself.***

    I placed the note on the arm of the couch where she''d be sure to find it, and bent down to give the black cat one last scratch behind the ears. It purred softly, completely oblivious to the fact that I was heading out to face a potential death sentence.

    As I crept out of the apartment, I opened my bag and stared at the torn-up suit inside. The sight of it brought back flashes of the earlier fight¡ªfangs, claws, and sewer water. It was in rough shape, just like me, but it was all I had. I pulled it on slowly, gritting my teeth with every movement. The fabric clung to my wounds, and I winced as it pressed against the bandages Felicia had wrapped around me. I felt every bruise, every cut, but there was no time to rest. I had a responsibility.

    The cool night air hit my face as I stepped out onto the empty street. New York seemed eerily quiet, as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for something terrible to happen. The Lizard was loose, and if I didn''t stop him... well, I couldn''t let myself think about that.

    I looked down at my hands, still trembling slightly from the pain, and clenched them into fists. No matter what, I had to fight. I had to be Spider-Man. Even if this was my last night.

    With one final glance back at Felicia''s apartment, I shot a web to the nearest building and swung into the night, hoping I had enough left in me to make a difference.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Osborn''s voice trembles, but he raises his arms, stepping in front of the trembling employees huddled behind him. His usual bravado is nowhere to be found, just raw panic now.

    "What do you want? Money? I can give you anything!" he screams, his eyes locked on the monstrous figure looming over him. "Just leave these people alone!"

    The Lizard''s breath is a wet rasp, its sharp, predatory gaze cutting through Osborn like he is nothing. Saliva drips from its jagged teeth as it leans in close, so close Osborn can feel the heat radiating from the creature''s body.

    "For...mula..." the creature hisses, the words dragging from its throat like it is choking on them. "For...mula..."

    Osborn''s face blanches, his voice faltering. "F-F-Formula? Yes, okay... whatever formula you want, take it! Just¡ªjust don''t hurt them, please!"

    The Lizard''s clawed hand lashes out, clamping around Osborn''s throat with brutal force. He yelps, feet kicking helplessly as he is lifted off the ground, his vision swimming.

    "You...did...thisss..." the Lizard snarls, its grip tightening, its jaws hanging open in a grotesque grin. Behind Osborn, a woman shrieks, her voice breaking as she sees her boss dangling in the monster''s claws.

    "M-Me?!" Osborn gasps, his face turning red as he claws at the scaly hand around his neck. "I¡ªI had nothing to do with this! Unhand me! Get off me!"

    But the Lizard doesn''t care. It rears its other arm back, claws glinting in the dim light, prepared to tear into Osborn''s chest like tissue paper.

    "You...die..."

    Then comes the crash of shattering glass.

    Before the Lizard can react, something hits it with the force of a wrecking ball¡ªa foot slamming into the side of its head. The beast is hurled across the room, crashing through desks and cubicles like a cannonball, finally slamming into the far wall with a bone-rattling thud.

    Spider-Man lands hard on the floor, stumbling as the impact sends a wave of pain through his body. His ribs scream in protest, bruises throbbing under his torn suit. Every breath feels like fire in his chest, and his limbs feel heavier than ever. But he forces himself upright, shaking the dizziness from his head.

    "You forgot to sign in!" Peter quips, his voice strained.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The Lizard crashes into the ground with a thunderous impact, smashing desks and sending debris flying as his back collides with the wall, cracking it on impact. I watch him groan, dazed for a moment.

    "You forgot to sign in?" I mutter under my breath. "I really gotta work on these one-liners."

    A computer flies straight at my head, and I barely have time to flip out of the way, latching onto the ceiling above. The Lizard lets out an enraged roar below, tearing through what is left of the room.

    "You know," I call down, webbing my hands to the ceiling for stability, "I really hope you can afford all the stuff you''re smashing."

    The Lizard isn''t having it. "Sssstay...away!" he snarls, launching a desk toward me. I dodge again, my body groaning under the effort. With a quick flick of my wrist, I web his feet, pulling with all the strength I can muster, and slam him into the opposite wall, shattering it. Dust and debris fall around us.

    "Well, to be fair," I pant, struggling to catch my breath, "I don''t think I could afford to pay for any of this either."

    Turning to Osborn and the terrified staff huddled behind him, I manage a nod. "Now''s your chance to run! Get out of here before the big guy decides to make a comeback!"

    Osborn, his face as pale as a ghost, nods quickly. "Thank you... young man." He ushers his staff out of the room, their footsteps fading into the hallway.

    I wince, feeling the bandages around my midsection pull tight as I clutch my side. Every movement feels like my ribs are on fire. I am barely holding myself together, and I know a prolonged fight isn''t an option.

    But then I see the Lizard pushing himself up from the rubble, claws digging into the cracked wall as he steadies himself. His yellow eyes glare into mine, full of anger and pain. The police are on their way, probably just waiting for the employees to get out before raiding the place. I can''t be here when they show up¡ªand neither can he.

    "Look, Doc, I know you''re still in there," I say, trying to keep my voice steady despite the pain. "Whatever this is, I can help. You know me. Don''t make me hurt you."

    For a second, Connors hesitates. His clawed hands go to his head, gripping it as if he is fighting something inside. His whole body trembles.

    "That''s right, fight it! Don''t let this thing take over!" I take a step closer, my hands raised in a gesture of peace. "We can fix this."

    "For...mula..." Connors rasps. His voice is broken, weak, but I hear it. "Osborn... did...this...to me..."

    "Osborn? What do you mean? What formula?!" I take another step forward, but it is too late. The Lizard snaps back, the human side vanishing as he roars and charges at me, his rage unleashed.

    I try to leap back, but his tail whips out, slamming into my legs and knocking me off my feet. The next thing I know, I am hurled into the ground with bone-rattling force. Pain explodes through my body, my back and arms searing as glass from a shattered light above pierces my skin. I barely have time to gasp before he swings me upward, slamming me into the ceiling, then throws me like a ragdoll into a nearby wall.

    I collapse to the floor, struggling to breathe. My vision blurs, and I feel the warmth of blood soaking through my suit, seeping from the wounds the bandages can''t hold back anymore. Tears sting at my eyes, the pain almost unbearable.

    "D-Doctor Connors..." I whisper, struggling to stand, my whole body shaking.

    I feel the tingling in the back of my skull¡ªmy Spider-Sense going off just in time. I look up to see the Lizard charging again, his claws extended. With what little strength I have left, I shoot a web to the ceiling, yanking myself out of the way just as he smashes through the wall where I had been seconds ago.

    There isn''t much time left. My body is giving out, and I have no idea how to stop Connors. I should run, should let the authorities handle the rest.

    But I can''t. That isn''t who I am.

    I smile weakly through the pain. I have a responsibility. I can''t give up.

    The Lizard turns, preparing to charge once more. I can''t hold back this time.

    I web the wall behind him, gripping the web tight and using all the strength I have left to launch myself forward, both legs outstretched. I slam into his chest with a powerful kick, sending him flying backward. My calf feels like it is being torn apart, but I can''t stop. Not now.

    "Sorry, Doc," I mutter through gritted teeth, firing another web at his chest, pulling him back toward me with all my might. As he flies toward me, I wind up and deliver a devastating punch to his jaw, sending him crashing into the ground with a thunderous boom.

    The floor gives way beneath us, and we both plummet to the story below, debris raining down around us.

    I gasp for air, my body barely able to move, but somehow, I manage to lift myself up, looking over at the motionless figure of the Lizard. His teeth are shattered, his chest heaving with shallow breaths.

    "Sorry again, Doc," I mutter, feeling the blood trickle down my arms. "Might wanna see a dentist after this."

    Then, something strange happens. The hulking beast begins to shrink. His scaly skin softens, his jagged teeth shrink, and before long, Dr. Curt Connors lies there in the wreckage, his human form restored.

    "You''re back," I whisper, my voice thick with relief.

    But the sound of heavy footsteps fills the air¡ªthe SWAT team is finally here.

    "About time..." I groan, looking down at Connors'' unconscious body. I can''t leave him like this, but in my current state, there is nothing I can do.

    "I''ll fix this, Doc," I promise, staggering toward the shattered window. "I''ll find a way to make it right."

    The cool night air hits my face as I smash the glass, breathing in the fresh air. Clutching my side, I take one last look at the dark city below.

    Then, with a deep breath, I jump into the night.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I swing to the top of the home beside mine, knowing that there was no way I could explain any of this to Aunt May, and that there was no way I would ever be ungrounded for this. I crawl to my window opening it slowly, praying that this wasn''t the scene in the movies where the character turns on the light revealing they were in the room the entire time. I take off my mask, groaning as my bandages were completely covered with blood, my arms had dried blood all over it.

    Aunt May is going to freak out.

    I place my phone on the charger, waiting a few moments expecting to see all the hundreds of missed calls and texts from Aunt May. But when it finally turned on, there was, only a couple of messages. Two from Harry, then one from Aunt May.

    *Hey, Peter! I''ll be out of town for the next couple of weeks! So make sure you make yourself dinner tonight! Don''t order pizza! That can wait until I come home!! ;)*

    I lay back in my bed, a sigh of relief escaping from my mouth. "I got extremely lucky tonight. But, there are a lot of others who didn''t." I say to myself, thinking back to all of the dead police officers, then to Doctor Conners himself. I couldn''t help him in the end, but, that doesn''t mean I''ve given up yet.

    I hope Felicia isn''t too upset about me leaving tonight, and that she doesn''t say anything to Harry. If he were to find out I was Spider-Man, if anyone did, then they would be in danger. I can''t let that happen. I turn over in my bed, groaning in pain.

    I think...I might just skip school tomorrow.

 Sting Of The Scorpion

    "DRAWING from what we learned yesterday, you can illustrate the quantum¡ª"

    Three cups of coffee and two Five-Hour Energy shots¡ªthat''s what it was taking to keep me upright in class. Every muscle in my body ached, the residual pain from my battle with the Lizard still clawing at my insides. It was hard enough to focus on Mr. Octavius'' lecture, let alone stay awake. My eyelids felt like they weighed a ton, and the lecture seemed to drift in and out of focus.

    Sleep had been elusive ever since the fight. My wounds, hastily patched up on my own, still throbbed. I couldn''t risk going to a hospital¡ªthat was an easy way to get found out. But at this rate, I wasn''t sure how much longer I could keep taking these hits without someone noticing something off. Sure, my body healed faster than normal, a lot faster, but the bruises turned to scars at their own pace, and my cracked ribs? Still a problem.

    "Hey, Pete," came a voice from beside me. "Pete."

    I glanced over at Harry, who was grinning ear to ear.

    "Yeah?" I muttered, trying to stay focused enough to avoid catching Professor Octavius'' attention.

    "What''s going on with you lately, man? You''ve been acting super weird the past few days. Is it about your old internship? That one guy, uh... what was his name?" Harry asked, his expression shifting to mild concern.

    "Doctor Connors," I replied quietly. The mention of his name brought back flashes of the chaos. The authorities had him locked up in a reinforced adamantium cage, courtesy of Oscorp. I had spent every spare moment researching ways to reverse what had happened to him. But so far? Nothing.

    "Yeah, Connors. Is that what''s eating at you?" Harry pressed.

    I shook my head, fighting to keep my exhaustion out of my voice. "No. I''m just... tired."

    Before Harry could say more, the bell rang. I quickly shoved my things into my bag, ready to escape the classroom. But as I stood, a familiar voice came from my left.

    "That looks nasty."

    It was Felicia. Her eyes flicked to the swollen black eye I''d earned last night when my arm gave out mid-swing. I face-planted on the concrete, pain exploding through me. "Oh, this?" I tried to shrug it off with a smile that probably looked as pathetic as it felt. "Yeah, well, got in a few good shots of my own."

    Felicia''s eyes narrowed in a way that told me she wasn''t buying it, but before she could say anything, Harry slid an arm around her shoulders. "Listen, Pete," he said, puffing out his chest a bit, "if you need me to handle those jerks, just say the word. Flash wouldn''t know what hit him." He flexed his arms for show, and Felicia rolled her eyes.

    "It''s fine," I said, my voice tighter than I intended. We started walking out together, heading for lunch, but before I could finish my sentence, my back slammed hard into the lockers. The sharp clang echoed through the hall, and when I blinked, Flash Thompson was inches from my face, his breath hot and sour.

    "Flash," I muttered.

    "Parker," he grinned, like a cat toying with a mouse.

    Harry tried to step in, but Flash''s goons caught him, shoving him against the lockers too. "Not so fast, Osborn. You''re next. But first¡ª" Flash''s grin widened as he eyed me. "Parker''s gonna tell me what I''m having for lunch."

    I bit down on the ache in my ribs, forcing a smirk. "Asparagus?" I asked, my voice tight with pain.

    The grin slid off his face, replaced by something darker. His fist clenched, ready to fly at me. But before he could land it, Felicia stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

    "Let him go, Flash." She smiled sweetly, but there was an edge to her tone. "Really? Lunch money? Aren''t you a little too old to be playing schoolyard bully? Kinda embarrassing, don''t you think?"

    Flash''s hand lowered, his bravado shrinking under the weight of her words. "Hey, not my fault Parker''s too weak to stand up for himself." He leaned in closer, brushing invisible dust off my shoulders. "He just makes it so easy."

    Felicia crossed her arms, her eyes locked on mine in that unsettling, almost predatory way of hers. "Yeah, he does seem to attract trouble, doesn''t he?" Her eyebrow arched, and I couldn''t help but think of that night when she brought me to her place. She hadn''t mentioned it since, but it hung between us, unspoken.

    Flash, not getting the hint, shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned at her. "Hey, when you get bored of Osborn over there, you know where to find me. I can show you a better time." He took a step forward, but Felicia, with a flick of her leg, tripped him flat on his face.

    "Oops," she said with a grin as Flash sputtered on the floor. "Would you believe me if I told you that was an accident?"

    Flash growled, blood leaking from his nose, but before he could get up, Felicia planted her foot on his chest, forcing him back down. "Touch him again, and we''ll see how many accidents you run into."

    "Hey, hey," I said, trying to ease the tension. "He gets it." My voice was calm, but my heart was racing. I locked eyes with Felicia, her gaze still sharp with amusement. Flash was a bleeding mess beneath her foot, but she didn''t seem the least bit bothered.

    Reluctantly, she removed her foot, letting Flash stumble to his feet. He wiped the blood from his nose, throwing a glare our way. "W-Whatever. Crazy bitch." He stormed off with his lackeys in tow, leaving an uneasy silence behind.

    "Uh... thanks?" I muttered, unsure why Felicia had stepped in this time. She''d seen Flash and his crew rough me up plenty of times before, and she''d never so much as blinked.

    "Wow," Harry said, patting Felicia on the back. "You must have some killer leg muscles. He couldn''t even lift his head."

    But Felicia wasn''t listening. Her eyes stayed on me, a hint of something unreadable lurking behind them. Harry noticed too, glancing between us like he''d walked in on something. "Uh... what''s going on?"

    Felicia smiled, then¡ªwithout warning¡ªleaned in and kissed Harry full on the lips. His eyes went wide as saucers, like a deer caught in headlights. For a second, I thought he might faint.

    When she pulled back, Harry was still frozen, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "Uh... wow... that was..."

    "So, your place after school?" Felicia asked with a playful grin, leaving Harry fumbling over his words.

    "Y-Yeah, sure!" he stammered. "I mean, we could go somewhere else if you want, I just thought¡ª"

    "Your place is fine," she said, cutting him off with a finger to his lips.

    I wasn''t sure what I was witnessing anymore. I cleared my throat. "Well, I''ll see you guys later."

    "Wait, Peter," Felicia called after me. "You''re coming too, right? Unless you''ve got something else to do." She winked, and something about the way she said it made my stomach twist.

    "Uh... no? I mean, I probably have homework or something... or, uh..." Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket¡ªan alert about a break-in at an Oscorp facility. "Actually, I just remembered I have a physics test to study for. Gotta go!"

    I darted down the hall, leaving their confused glances behind me. The late bell rang, and I raced to my locker, grabbing my patched-up suit and stuffing it into my bag. The halls were empty, and I slipped out of the school unnoticed, adrenaline already kicking in.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The wind whipped past me as I swung through the city, the strain in my arms and body still there but lighter now. My fight with the Lizard had pushed me to my limits. This was different. I''d fought thugs and thieves before, but Connors... Connors was something else entirely.

    As I swung toward Oscorp, the sound of sirens reached my ears. Police cars were already converging on the building. I landed silently on the roof, prying open a vent, and slipped inside.

    The stench of chemicals and burning metal hit me hard. Typical Oscorp. I wrinkled my nose, crawling through the vents until I found an opening. Kicking the grate aside, I dropped down into the dark, cold belly of the facility.

    I could hear voices echoing from deeper inside the dimly lit facility, faint but urgent, like whispers in a cave. The air was thick with the smell of chemicals, burnt plastic, and something metallic that made my nose wrinkle. I crouched lower, sticking to the shadows as I moved down a narrow steel catwalk that overlooked the heart of the Oscorp factory floor. The faint flicker of fluorescent lights buzzed above me, casting long, jittery shadows against the walls.

    Below, rows of machines whirred in mechanical rhythm, their robotic arms moving with cold precision as they assembled sleek vials filled with a strange green liquid. The vials rolled down conveyor belts into crates, neatly packed and sealed, their contents glinting like venom under the harsh light. I couldn''t tell what they were manufacturing, but it gave me the same uneasy feeling I got every time I walked into one of these places.

    I froze for a moment, listening. The voices were clearer now, low and businesslike. I moved silently along the catwalk, peering through the gaps in the floor toward a group of men gathered near a door at the far end of the factory.

    They were heading into a sterile-looking room, its walls stark white, standing out against the grittiness of the rest of the facility. The door slid open with a mechanical hiss, and I watched as they moved inside. I followed, crawling along a suspended vent that ran above the room. Through the grate below, I had a perfect view of what they were doing.

    There, standing in the middle of the room, was a large green suit. But it wasn''t just any suit. I didn''t know what I was looking at¡ªthe smooth, almost reptilian surface of the armor, the curved tail coiled menacingly behind it.

    One of the men, wearing a dark coat and gloves, stepped forward, running his hand over the metal. His fingers traced the contours of the armor, admiring it like a prize he''d been chasing for a long time.

    "This is it," one of them said, his voice low but filled with satisfaction. "This is what we were hired to find."

    The others nodded in agreement, their eyes gleaming with something between fear and greed.

    "What''s the next step, Mac?" another man asked, glancing at the leader.

    The man named Mac who wore the black coat stepped back, eyeing the suit as if it were alive. "We open it. Make sure it''s all intact."

    I shifted in the vent, my heart racing. The looked like a relic, locked away for a reason. Whoever hired these guys didn''t just want it as a collector''s item¡ªthey had plans for it, and none of them good.

    Mac moves closer to the suit, pressing a button on the side. With a hiss, the chestplate slid open, revealing the complex mechanisms inside¡ªthe muscle-like fibers, the reinforced frame, all designed to make a human stronger, faster, deadlier. The sound of it opening was like a predator waking up from a long sleep.

    The man stares at the open suit, his smile creeping wider. "This is going to change everything."

    I gripped the vent grate, the cold metal biting into my palm. My breath hitched in my throat, the exhaustion that had clung to me for days now like a second skin tightening its grip. My ribs screamed, and every joint in my body felt fused with fatigue. But I had no time to dwell on the pain. With a half-baked plan and no second thoughts, I dropped into the room below.

    The men whirled around, their expressions flashing from surprise to shock to outright fear in a matter of seconds.

    "Hey," I said, forcing a grin despite the gnawing ache inside me. "Any of you guys know who I talk to about a job interview here?" My voice cracked at the edges, but I hoped the bravado held up.

    Two of them didn''t waste time with pleasantries. Their pistols were out in a heartbeat, the cold barrels gleaming under the overhead lights.

    "It''s that Spider-Kid!" one of them barked, his voice breaking.

    The shots rang out, and I ducked, my body moving faster than my brain. I webbed his hand before he could fire again, yanking it hard enough for him to smack his buddy square in the face. A meaty thud echoed in the room as I pulled him down, the floor meeting his skull with a satisfying crack.

    "Spider-Kid?" I said, my voice harsher than I wanted. "Do I sound like a kid to you?" I webbed the second guy mid-motion and yanked him into my waiting palm, driving it into his chest. He hit the ground, winded and gasping.

    I didn''t even have time to catch my breath. My senses¡ªnormally sharp, heightened¡ªwere dull, slow. I glance up, Mac was already in the suit. And clearly it wasn''t just any suit.

    "Figures," he says, his voice low and gravelly, like he''d been waiting for this moment his whole life. "They paid me to test this baby out, and I can''t think of a better opportunity than right now."

    "How much would I have to pay you to give up go to the cops and turn yourself in?" I shot back, desperation creeping into my voice, even as I webbed the chest plate of the suit. Before I could react, his hand shot out, grabbing the web like it was nothing.

    He yanked me toward him, his fist slamming into my chest with the force of a sledgehammer. The breath left my lungs in a violent rush, pain radiating through me like wildfire. Before I could process the blow, his tail¡ªan armored, segmented nightmare¡ªwhipped down, slicing into my shoulder. I barely twisted out of the way, but the burn was immediate, searing into my flesh.

    "Okay," I gasped, clutching my shoulder, "that hurt."

    But something was wrong. My vision blurred, edges swimming in and out of focus. The room tilted, warping, like it was spinning on some sick axis. I tried to raise my hand, but it felt like I was moving underwater.

    "What''s the matter, Spider?" Mac''s voice was distant, warped, like I was hearing it through cotton. "Senses not so hot right now?"

    I tried to respond, but my throat was dry, burning. Sweat poured down my face, my body growing hotter, each breath a struggle.

    "What... what''s happening...?" My words came out slurred, barely audible.

    He chuckled, his voice thick with malicious satisfaction. "You don''t know, do you? A scorpion''s sting releases a cocktail of neurotransmitters. First, you sweat. Then comes the nausea. Then you''ll start drooling like a rabid dog before your heart gives out. That''s when you die." He stepped closer, his armored fists clenching, the tail whipping back and forth like a coiled viper. "Normally, I don''t kill kids, but for you, I''ll make an exception."

    Panic surged in my chest, but I stumbled backward, firing a web. It connected, but before I could pull away, Mac gripped it, his strength overwhelming mine. With a grunt, he lifted me into the air like I weighed nothing, spinning me in wide circles, faster and faster. The room became a blur of motion, and I was sure I was going to hurl any second.

    "Sorry about this, kid," Mac sneered, his voice like gravel grinding against my skull. "But I''ve got bills to pay. And with this suit, no cop¡ªno Spider¡ªis gonna stand in my way."

    He let me go.

    I flew through the air, crashing through a concrete wall like it was paper. The impact sent a jagged shockwave of pain through my body, tearing through my already battered ribs. Before I could catch my breath, I smashed into something hard and unyielding¡ªthe corner of a metal dumpster¡ªbefore finally hitting the alley floor with a bone-cracking thud.

    Everything hurt. My whole body was screaming, every nerve alight with pain. I tried to stand, clutching at the trash bin for balance, my breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. My vision swam, darkness creeping at the edges. I could feel blood pooling in my mouth, a sick, metallic taste that made my stomach turn.

    "T-That wasn''t... fun," I muttered, my voice barely a whisper. I fumbled with my mask, pulling it off, feeling the cool air against my sweat-soaked face. I couldn''t fight him like this. Not in this condition.

    But before I could even move, the world tilted. My legs gave out, and my body crumpled, collapsing against the cold, unforgiving concrete.

    The last thing I felt was the darkness swallowing me whole.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Meow.

    Meow.

    A sharp sound cuts through the fog in my head. Soft fur brushes against my cheek, and I feel something nudging me. "H-Hey, cut it out," I mumble, weakly swiping at the cat rubbing its face against mine. My hand barely moves; everything feels heavy. My whole body is burning, soaked in sweat like I''ve been thrown into a furnace, and my chest is tight, each breath harder than the last.

    I blink, and the sky swims into view¡ªdark now, but everything around me is blurry, smeared together. My vision flickers, shapes bending and warping. I can''t get my bearings, and my limbs feel like they''ve been replaced with lead. Nausea twists in my gut, threatening to spill over with every move.

    I try to push myself up, but my legs buckle beneath me, and I crash back down. Pain explodes in my ribs, a sharp reminder of where Mac''s fists and tail hit. I clutch my shoulder, feeling the burn from where his tail sliced me. But there''s something else¡ªsomething worse than just the physical damage. It''s the poison. I can feel it crawling through my veins like fire ants, setting every nerve alight, making my muscles spasm and seize.

    If I don''t get moving, I''m dead. I can feel it, creeping closer, shutting down parts of me one by one. But I can''t go to the hospital. Not an option. There''s only one place that might save me.

    I keep a stash between 63rd and 49th¡ªa bag of supplies, a change of clothes. It''s not far, but in my state, it feels like a million miles. I force my arm to lift, aim the web shooter, and fire. It barely sticks to the edge of the building, but I can''t hesitate. I pull myself up, muscles screaming in protest. My legs shake so bad, I can''t swing properly, so I crawl¡ªdragging myself up with what little strength I have left.

    The rooftops blur together, twisting in and out of focus. I try to swing, but every move is off-balance. I smash into walls, scrape against ledges. Each hit sends another jolt of pain through my cracked ribs, and I feel blood welling up in my mouth. I spit it out, but it keeps coming. My chest feels like it''s on fire, and every breath is a battle.

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    It''s getting worse. The poison, I can feel it spreading. My vision flickers again, black spots dancing in front of my eyes. I stumble across the last rooftop, legs threatening to give out, and drop into the alley below. I barely land on my feet before collapsing to my knees, gasping for air. My heart''s racing, pounding so hard it feels like it''s going to burst.

    There¡ªunder that pile of scrap. My bag. I stagger forward, nearly collapsing on top of it, my hands shaking as I dig it out. I can barely get the straps open. My fingers aren''t working right, fumbling like they''re not even mine. The suit feels like it''s glued to my skin, sticky and soaked with sweat. I try to peel it off, but I fall over twice just trying to pull it free.

    Every muscle aches, and my head spins so badly I can hardly see straight. Finally, I manage to get into the clothes, but my legs buckle again, and I slump against the wall. I''m sweating more than ever, my body overheating, my heart racing out of control. I try to focus, try to think, but all I can feel is the poison, the pain in my ribs, and the burn in my lungs.

    I force myself to stand, but my legs won''t cooperate. I stumble into the street, barely able to stay upright. The world spins, tilts, and my vision dims.

    I don''t know how much longer I can keep going

    It feels like hours. Each step heavier than the last, each breath a battle I''m losing. By the time I reach the front steps, I''m not even sure if I''m still upright or just a puppet being yanked around by invisible strings. The house swims in front of me, and I can barely make out the shape of the door. My fist hits it¡ªweakly at first¡ªjust a soft thud. I try again, harder this time, but it still sounds like a ghost knocking.

    No answer.

    I try one more time, putting every last shred of energy into pounding the door.

    Finally, I hear something from the other side. Footsteps. Voices. The door swings open, and there she is¡ªFelicia, backlit by the warm glow inside. For a second, the contrast between her and the hell I''ve been through feels surreal, like I''m looking at a dream.

    "Yeah, yeah! Roman, I swear if you didn''t¡ª" She freezes mid-sentence, her eyes locking onto mine. I try to smile, but all I manage is a shaky grimace before my knees buckle.

    I fall against her, limp as a ragdoll. She barely catches me, her small frame tensing under the dead weight of my body.

    "What the hell?!" Her voice is sharp, panicked. She''s seen me roughed up before, but this¡ªthis is different.

    "Darn Stairs," I mutter, the joke coming out flat, lifeless. There''s no energy left for humor, but it''s all I''ve got.

    Felicia doesn''t laugh. She''s too busy dragging me inside, slamming the door shut behind us. The sudden warmth of the house is both a comfort and a torment, my fever burning hotter against it. She somehow manages to get me onto the couch, and I collapse like a sack of bones, my chest heaving as I fight for air. My vision blurs, narrowing into a tunnel. I can hear her voice, but it''s distant, echoing in the fog of my mind.

    "Jesus,..." She kneels beside me, pressing a cool hand against my forehead. Her eyes widen, and she pulls her hand back like she''s touched something scalding. "You''re burning up. And your mouth¡ª" She lifts my chin, her fingers tracing the dried blood at the corner of my lips. "God, what happened to you?"

    I try to speak, but the words die in my throat. My ribs feel like they''re caving in, each breath a jagged knife twisting deeper. Felicia pulls up my shirt, her face tightening when she sees the bruises and scars¡ªthe leftover battle souvenirs from the Lizard, the deep purple mark where Mac''s fist had landed earlier.

    Her eyes land on the gash in my shoulder, soaked in blood. She pulls her hand back, looking at the wet crimson on her fingers. "Peter, this is...this is bad. You need a hospital. I''m calling someone."

    She reaches for her phone, but I grab her wrist with the last of my strength. My grip is weak, barely enough to stop her, but she hesitates. Her eyes flash with anger, confusion.

    "No..." I croak, my voice barely above a whisper. "No hospital...please..."

    She stares at me, eyes searching mine for some kind of explanation. There''s frustration there, but also something else¡ªconcern, fear. She''s angry, but she''s scared too.

    "This is insane," she mutters, shaking her head. "You can''t keep doing this. You show up here, bloody and broken, and I''m just supposed to pretend it''s normal? You better start talking, Peter. What the hell happened to you?"

    I swallow hard, my throat dry, the poison still gnawing at my insides. "Poison..." I manage to rasp. "Was...poisoned..."

    Felicia''s expression shifts from anger to disbelief, her eyes wide with horror. "Poisoned?! Jesus, Peter..."

    But before I can say more, the world tilts. The pain, the heat, the exhaustion¡ªit all crashes over me at once, dragging me under. My grip on her loosens, and I feel consciousness slipping away. Everything goes dark.

    Again.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I WAKE with a start, the sudden jolt pulling me from a haze that felt both distant and suffocating. The room swims into focus¡ªsoft shadows playing on the walls, strange and unfamiliar. My body feels like it''s been put through a meat grinder, a sick reminder of the chaos at the Oscorp facility. Every ache and throb is a cruel echo of what I''ve survived.

    "Oh. Guess he''s awake now," Felicia says from somewhere in front of me, nestled into the couch with her cat. Her casual tone cuts through the fog, but the warmth in her voice is at odds with the ice in my veins. "And wow, look at that¡ªhe''s not dead."

    "I feel dead," I groan, bringing a hand to my throbbing head. It feels like a jackhammer is working its way through my skull. "What happened?"

    She leans back, her fingers absentmindedly stroking the cat. "Well, you came to my house and started bleeding all over the place again. I tried to fix you up as best I could, but that cut on your shoulder wouldn''t stop bleeding. I figured that was the source of the poison. I thought about calling an ambulance, but then your fever started to drop. You began breathing better all of a sudden."

    Her words start to piece together a timeline, but they feel distant, like a dream slipping through my fingers. "So, you just played doctor?" I murmur, still wrestling with the lingering fog of pain.

    "Something like that," she replies, glancing at me with an unreadable expression. "Whatever that poison was, your body actually started to fight it off. I cleaned you up and waited."

    She''s right. There''s a lightness in my body now, and the blurriness of my vision is fading, though the deep ache in my muscles and the tightness in my chest remain as unwelcome companions. At least I''m not dying. "Thanks," I manage to say, gratitude mixing with guilt. "For helping me again."

    "Sure," she mutters, kissing the top of her cat''s head, her focus drifting back to the warmth of her little companion.

    I swing my legs over the side of the couch and push myself to stand, the effort sending shockwaves of pain through my ribs. I grab my shirt, slipping it back on and fumbling for my bag, the weight of it somehow comforting despite the pain.

    "Where are you going?" she asks, her voice sharp enough to cut through my thoughts.

    I freeze, my mind scrambling for an excuse. "I''m, uh... I have homework, so¡ª"

    "Nope. No way. You don''t get to come in here with all these unexplained injuries again and throw some bullshit about homework at me." She stands, her finger pressing against my chest like a stake through my heart. "You''re gonna tell me what''s going on with you. You just go around getting beat up for fun or what? You in a gang or something?"

    I force a weak smile, but it feels more like a grimace. "Or something?"

    "Explain," she says, crossing her arms with a determined glare that could melt steel.

    I let out a long sigh, the weight of her gaze pressing down on me. "It''s just... better if I don''t. Trust me. I won''t do this again. It was selfish to come here. I just didn''t know where else to go, and you''re the only person I could trust."

    Her eyes flicker with something I can''t quite place, a mix of surprise and hope. "If you really trust me, then tell me what''s going on. Why are you always disappearing from school? Why do you keep ditching Harry? What''s with all these injuries?"

    I shake my head, feeling the walls closing in around me. "Look, we barely know each other. You''re my best friend''s girlfriend, and I don''t think he''d appreciate me being over here this late. So I really think I should g¡ª"

    Felicia''s hand shoots out, grabbing me by the collar, her grip fierce and unyielding. "You don''t get to pull that. You keep showing up half-dead, and you expect me to just turn the other way?"

    "Yes," I say, the word coming out more defiantly than I intend. She releases my collar, her eyes flashing with a mixture of frustration and annoyance.

    "I''m sorry." The words slip out, but they feel inadequate, a bandage on a wound too deep to heal.

    Felicia scoffs, her expression hardening. "Whatever. Not my business, anyway. Only when you need someone to patch you up. Except the next time, that door might just stay closed."

    I bite my lip, her words cutting deeper than any blade. She''s right; it isn''t fair to keep doing this to her. But the thought of anyone finding out¡ªthe danger that could come crashing down on her if they did¡ªmakes my stomach churn. One of Spider-Man''s enemies could target her, and I can''t let that happen. I won''t. I have a responsibility to keep everyone safe.

    "I-I have to go," I say, urgency creeping into my voice. "I won''t bother you again. I''m sorry that I came here."

    Felicia narrows her eyes, studying me like I''m a puzzle she''s trying to solve. "Do whatever you want." She sinks back onto the couch, picking up her cat and turning her attention to the flickering television, as if the screen could shield her from the reality between us.

    I grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. I turn back once more, hoping to find some flicker of understanding in her gaze, but she''s already lost in the glow of the screen. "I''m sorry," I say again, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. Then, with a heavy heart, I step through the door and into the night, the darkness swallowing me whole

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I swung up to the top of a large building, my backpack still on, as I listened to the police radio I hacked into a while back.

    "Nothing on big scorpion looking guys. You''d think he wouldn''t be hard to miss. He must''ve escaped from the cops earlier, hopefully nobody was too injured." I say, lifting my mask a bit to feel the breeze. I felt sorry for doing that to Felicia, I''d have to apologize properly tomorrow.

    Thankfully I didn''t have to worry about curfew for the next couple of weeks as Aunt May would be out of town still for her job. Of course she would still check in with me from time to time to make sure I''m keeping up with my studies, I hate having to lie to her, but it''s the only way to protect her.

    Hours go by, as I finish a slice of pizza that I took the time to go and get, I''m sure it was a surprise for those guys seeing Spider-Man come down and order a large pepperoni. What can I say? Being a superhero works up an appetite.

    The sun starts to come up, and I look at the clock on my phone to see it''s almost time for school. I consider skipping, but if Aunt May got a call about me missing school she''d flip out. As long as I have this scanner on I can listen out for any trouble. I swing over to Mid-Town high, changing in a nearby alleyway before heading into the school crowded with students already.

    "Hey, Pete!" I hear Harry''s voice call out from behind me. "We missed you yesterday buddy." He says slapping my back as the bruises ache from his touch. He''s accompanied by Felicia, as he has his arm around her, she barely makes eye contact with me.

    I laugh sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry. Got uhm...busy last night." I say, hoping she doesn''t say anything.

    Felicia scoffs, and Harry turns to her. "Something wrong?" He asks.

    She just smiles, and shakes her head. "Not a damn thing. Oh, and Peter?"

    "Yeah?" I say nervously.

    "You got a stain on your shoulder." She says, moving out from under Harry''s arm, and past me.

    Harry looks at her confused as she walks away, then turns his attention to my shoulder, which is stained red from the blood of last night. I didn''t have time to go and grab a fresh pair of clothes.

    "Oh, dude she''s right. You got like juice or something right there."

    "It''s just a stain," I say, and together we walk to our first period.

    All day I try and listen out for anything on the radio, but it''s nothing, not even your common thug. I mean what is this national don''t commit a crime day?

    My foot taps restlessly against the floor as I sit in the lecture hall, struggling to concentrate. I''ve always excelled in class; learning comes naturally to me. Before I became Spider-Man, I devoted myself entirely to my studies. Science was my world, my escape, and now I find myself a product of that very world¡ªa walking, talking experiment. Whether that''s a blessing or a curse, I''m still trying to figure out.

    "Peter?" A soft voice breaks through my thoughts.

    I glance to my right and meet Gwen''s bright blue eyes. "Yeah, hey, Gwen."

    Her smile is infectious, radiating warmth and kindness. "You seem a little... distracted. Is everything okay?"

    I nod, but I can feel the slight tremor in my voice as I answer. "Yeah, you know me. Just, uh... worried about this Friday''s test."

    "Don''t stress, Pete. You''d be the top student in our class if you could just remember to turn in your homework on time." She giggles lightly, and it stirs something inside me, a mix of affection and frustration.

    Gwen Stacy. Once my best friend in grade school, she''s remained a constant presence in my life, even as we drifted apart. Her kindness never wavered toward Harry and me, and if I''m honest, I still carry a crush on her¡ªa deep, unyielding admiration that feels both familiar and impossible. Every guy at school wants to be with her, and I can''t blame them; she''s beautiful, smart, and funny, with a smile that could light up the darkest day. The way she carries herself¡ªconfident yet approachable¡ªmakes my heart race.

    "Mr. Parker, if I''m not mistaken, this isn''t social hour; this is Biology," Mr. Octavius chimes in, his voice dripping with the monotony that has become his trademark. I can hear Harry stifling a snicker from behind me.

    "Sorry, sir." I manage a sheepish reply, but I feel my cheeks heat up.

    "You always are," he retorts, not bothering to hide his annoyance. His bored expression remains unchanged, as if he''s seen it all before. "Focus, Mr. Parker. Focus."

    Gwen shoots me an apologetic smile, her concern palpable, and I sink lower in my seat. I hate this feeling of being pulled in two different directions. The pressure of my responsibilities as Spider-Man clashes with my desire to excel academically and maintain some semblance of a normal life.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "This suit is incredible! I mean, with this, I can take whatever I want, from whoever I want." Mac Gargan''s voice is full of excitement as he admires his reflection in the cracked mirror, running a hand over the smooth, armored surface of the Scorpion suit.

    Carl, his partner in crime, watches from the worn-out couch, beer in hand, unimpressed by his friend''s enthusiasm. "Yeah? Well, don''t get too attached. We were paid to test that thing out, not keep it. We report back to the big man in a few hours, get our cash, and that''s that. So take it off already."

    But Mac just grins wider, clenching his fists as an idea takes shape. "You don''t get it, do you? Why the hell should we hand this over?"

    Carl raises an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of his beer. "What''re you saying? Like... keep it?"

    "Yeah, you idiot!" Mac turns to him, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "We could take the money and this suit. Hell, I already took out that Spider brat once, didn''t I? Cops couldn''t even make a scratch. With this, we could do whatever we want, and no one could stop us."

    Carl sets his beer down, his expression suddenly more serious. "Yeah, but... you really think the big man''s just gonna let that slide? He built that thing. Don''t you think he''s got a way to shut it down, or worse? The dude''s not exactly known for being forgiving."

    Mac''s laugh is harsh, almost mocking. "Let me worry about the big man. I know how to handle him. And if Spider-Kid shows up again, well..." His grin turns feral as he swings the suit''s lethal tail, shattering a nearby window. Venom drips from the sharp stinger, sizzling as it hits the floor. "I''ll make sure he doesn''t get back up this time."

    Carl shifts uneasily, glancing from the broken window to Mac''s crazed look. "Okay, so...what''s the plan?"

    Mac paces the room, the weight of the Scorpion suit making him feel unstoppable. "First thing''s first¡ªwe need leverage. Something big, something that''ll make us untouchable."

    Carl rubs the back of his neck. "Leverage? Like what?"

    Mac''s grin widens. "We get ahead of him, and we don''t just keep the suit¡ªwe own this city."

    Carl exhales slowly, unsure whether his partner''s ambition will lead them to riches or get them killed. But Mac''s already too far gone, lost in the intoxicating power the suit offers.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Achoo!" I sneeze. "Somebody must be talking about me." I say, and Harry just shakes his head taking a bite of his sandwhich.

    "Peter, nobody''s talking about you." He grins, and I roll my eyes.

    Felicia sits quietly, a hand on her cheek as she watched the rest of the students talk and eat amongst themselves. I wondered if she was still angry about yesterday, if she was she didn''t really let it show, the fact that she wasn''t saying anything surprised me quite a bit. It made me wonder if she''s got any secrets of her own, not that she''d ever tell me of course.

    "Hey, Pete. So tonight, you sure you''re not gonna be able to come out? I mean, we haven''t had a real hang out in a while now. I miss you, man." Harry says, and I can tell that my absence is affecting him more than I thought. The hard part about being Spider-Man is having to sacrifice parts of Peter''s life.

    "I''m sorry, Harry. I know I haven''t been around as much but you know that if it wasn''t anything important there''s nowhere I''d rather be than hanging out with you." I say, hoping that''s enough to subside his hard feelings.

    He smiles wryly. "I know, Pete. I know."

    Before I can say anything, I hear screams, and it rips our attention towards the large main gates. "What was that?" I say, and Harry grabs Felicia.

    "I don''t know, man. We should¡ª" A large car comes flying in our direction, and I see a kid, Kevin, frozen still in the path of the car.

    "Hey!" I shout, running over and grabbing the kid pulling him out of the way as the car lands smashing the table.

    Kevin turns to me, "t-thanks, you got quick reflexes," he says sweat dripping from his forehead.

    "Y-Yeah, guess it''s just the adrenaline." I respond, then he gets up and starts running back inside followed by the other students who run in fear.

    "Harry, we have to¡ª"

    I stop as I see Harry in the clutches of that man, the one in the Scorpion suit, held by his throat.

    Felicia was on the ground, struggling to stand. "B-Bastard..." She grumbles.

    "Look kid, I just need you for a few hours then we''re set. You play nice and I''ll let you go soon enough." The man smiles, gripping Harry''s throat tighter.

    Harry turns his face as much as he can, "Pe-Pete..." He says, and I know that I can''t do anything as Peter Parker.

    "I''ll...I''ll get help!" I say, running back inside of the building, feeling my heart squeeze as I wondered what thoughts must be going through Harry''s head as he watched me run away.

    "Peter?! What''s happening?!" Gwen grabs me, as students rush all around us.

    I look at her panicked expression, knowing I don''t have time to sit and chat. "Look just get somewhere safe!" I say, pulling away from her grasp heading to where I kept my suit. I felt anger bubbling inside of me, I won''t let this guy get away with this.

    I open my locker, looking around as students and teachers alike rushed around, stuffing my suit in my bag quickly and heading to the bathroom, changing as fast as I could, I leap up into the ceiling of the bathroom, then crawling through the ceiling until I reached something that would take me to the roof. From there I swung down to the field where I could see Harry being dragged by the Scorpion.

    "Hey! I''m pretty sure that suit doesn''t fit the dress code!" I say, and the Scorpion turns to face me. "Let him go."

    "Really? Spider-Kid, again?" He drops Harry, and rushes to me.

    "It''s Spider-Man," I say sheepishly, jumping as he charged me swiping at me with his tail which I take care to dodge as he stabs at me continuously to try and hit me with that venom. "Not this time!" I say, webbing his face, and landing a blow in his chest knocking him back. "Now can you stay down and let me take that thing off you?"

    Before he could respond the police sirens, came from the entrance, and multiple cars stopped right beside us, with officers getting out and pointing their weapons at the both of us. One of which I recognized to be Captain Stacy, definitely not who I wanted to see right now.

    He''s had it out for me ever since I started this job.

    I raise my hands. "Wait! Despite how it looks he and I are two guys wearing bug suits who aren''t on the same side!"

    "Put your hands up!" Captain Stacy shouts, and I listen, raising my hands slowly.

    "Look, just, this guy is dangerous and crazy strong so¡ª" I felt a kick to my stomach sending me back to the ground hard, the Scorpion had risen to his feet, ripping the webbing off his face and charging for Captain Stacy and his partner fire at him.

    Their bullets don''t even faze him as he moves closer, I try to web his back but using his tail he ripped my webbing and stabbed into the chest of Captain Stacy''s partner.

    "No!" I shout, jumping to my feet and webbing both of his arms, but he pulls me in slamming me into the cop car sending glass flying everywhere. "Ouch," I mutter, and he grabs me by the throat throwing me into Captain Stacy who was charging for us knocking the two of us down.

    I stand up, helping Captain Stacy to his feet, "get out of here!" I shout, and he looks at his downed partner then to me stunned.

    "You''re...You''re just a kid," he says.

    "Yeah, a kid who can lift a bus above his head. Now go! Get your partner to safety!" I say, and he nods heading in the other direction, grabbing his partner and carrying him out of danger. I turn back to the Scorpion who was heading back to Harry, who is frozen still.

    "Harr¡ªI mean kid! Run!" I shout, but he doesn''t move, and I web a piece of the car door, ripping it off then I leapt into the air spinning it around until I swung it towards the Scorpion who whipped around and I slammed the door directly into the side of his suit, knocking him to the ground, then I webbed him until his entire body was covered.

    I knew with that tail of his it wouldn''t be long until he freed himself, but for Harry..."Get out of here, right now!" I shout, and this time Harry turns to me, and he stands up and starts to run towards the school and into the arms of Felicia who gives me a look, before they both turn out of sight.

    "Goddamn it!" The Scoprion rips out of my webs. "I needed that brat! You''re dead."

    "Yeah, yeah." I say, and he charges at me, swiping his tail in an attempt to stab me.

    The Scorpion charges at me, his tail whipping through the air like a wrecking ball. Each movement is wild but powerful, smashing into the ground, cracking the pavement under its weight. I leap into the air, dodging the venomous tail by inches, feeling the whoosh of air as it narrowly misses my head.

    "Come on, is that all you''ve got?" I taunt, but my heart pounds in my chest. My words might be cocky, but every fiber of my body is on high alert. This guy''s different. Stronger, faster¡ªway more dangerous than before. I can feel the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Harry almost died, and if I make one wrong move, he could still get hurt.

    I''ve fought lots of guys. Strong guys. But every time, I hold back. I have to hold back. One wrong punch, one miscalculated kick, and I could end someone''s life. There are moments when I feel the power humming inside me, this quiet but ever-present danger. It scares me more than anyone I face, to be honest. If I ever let loose... no, I can''t think like that. Not now.

    I fire another web, aiming for Scorpion''s tail, but he''s ready. With a quick flick, he snaps it away before it even touches him. He barrels forward, swinging his massive claws at me. I duck low, sliding beneath his swipe, my palms skidding across the cold, cracked asphalt.

    "You''re fast," I mutter under my breath, pushing off the ground to flip behind him, "but not fast enough."

    I shoot another web at his legs, trying to trip him up, but he kicks through it like it''s tissue paper. His tail spins around again, this time faster than I expect. I feel the sharp sting of venom graze my side, a searing pain spreading instantly.

    "Gah!" I grunt, clenching my teeth. I jump back, hand clutching my side. The suit''s padding took most of it, but I can already feel the burning sensation creeping through my body. Not good. Not good at all.

    "You feel that, bug-boy?" Scorpion grins, his teeth bared like a predator smelling blood. "That''s just a taste. One full hit from this, and you''ll be begging for mercy."

    I stagger back, trying to focus through the pain. I can''t let him get the upper hand, not like this. My mind races, trying to figure out how to take him down. He''s too strong for me to beat in a straight-up fight. I need to think... fast.

    Scorpion charges again, and I barely manage to dodge. But I feel myself slowing down, the venom doing its work. I can''t keep this up for long.

    "Come on, Parker," I mutter to myself. "Think."

    And then it hits me. He''s relying too much on that tail, using it like his trump card. It''s his strength, but also his weakness. If I can immobilize it, even just for a moment, I might stand a chance. But how?

    I jump onto a nearby streetlamp, swinging around it as Scorpion slashes through the base, sending it crashing to the ground. He''s getting more erratic, more frustrated. He''s stronger than me, sure, but that means he''s used to overpowering everyone. Maybe he hasn''t fought someone who''s... *smarter* than him. I just need to out-think him.

    "Is this what they call a mid-life crisis, or are you just naturally this angry?" I call out, trying to buy myself some time.

    "Shut up!" he roars, his tail slamming into a nearby car, sending it skidding across the street. The venom from his tail sizzles as it drips onto the pavement, eating through the concrete like acid.

    I swing between two streetlights, trying to stay ahead of him, my mind still racing. Then I see it: the power lines running along the street, stretching between the buildings. Electricity. It''s risky, but it might be my only shot. If I can get him tangled in those lines and charge them up, I could overload his suit.

    Scorpion lunges at me again, his claws slashing wildly. I dodge left, then right, flipping over his tail as it stabs at the ground. With a quick flick of my wrist, I shoot a web toward the power lines, yanking them loose. Sparks fly as the live wires dangle above the street, crackling with energy.

    I leap toward him, deliberately getting close, too close, hoping he takes the bait. Sure enough, his tail comes lashing out, aiming for my chest.

    At the last second, I twist my body mid-air, just barely avoiding the strike, and instead, I grab hold of his tail, using its momentum to swing myself around. He''s surprised, thrown off-balance just enough for me to pull the power lines toward him.

    The live wires wrap around his tail, and for a second, nothing happens. Then, there''s a crackling sound, followed by a violent surge of electricity. Scorpion''s body convulses as the current courses through his suit, sparks flying everywhere.

    But he''s not down yet. His strength is insane. Even with the electricity frying his suit, he''s still fighting, still thrashing. I can see the agony on his face, the sheer force of will it''s taking for him to stay upright.

    I can''t hold back anymore. If I don''t stop him now, someone else is going to get hurt¡ªmaybe worse.

    I jump forward, my hands trembling as I ball them into fists. My mind is screaming at me, warning me to be careful, to hold back like I always do. But not this time. This time, I don''t pull my punch.

    I slam my fist into his chest with everything I''ve got, feeling the impact reverberate through my arm. The suit buckles under the force, cracks spidering out from the point of impact. Scorpion lets out a choked gasp, the wind knocked out of him as he crashes to the ground.

    I stand over him, panting hard, my chest heaving. For a second, I''m afraid I''ve gone too far. He''s not moving. Did I¡ª

    But then I hear it¡ªa groan, low and pained, as Scorpion shifts, trying to get up. His suit''s fried, the power surging through it has shorted out, but he''s still conscious. Barely.

    I stumble back, the adrenaline wearing off, and the burning pain in my side returns with a vengeance. I clutch my ribs, wincing. "That was... harder than I thought," I mutter to myself.

    The rest of the police, led by Captain Stacy are now brave enough to close in, they start cuffing Scorpion, who''s too weak to resist. Captain Stacy looks at me, eyes wide. "How the hell did you¡ª"

    "Lots of vegetables," I say, cutting him off, raising my hand. "Just... make sure he''s locked up tight. And maybe keep him away from any tail attachments."

    "Look, I appreciate the assist. My daughter goes to this school, and I know that you''re trying to do good but...you need to let the law handle this." Captain Stacy says, and for a moment, it looks as though he''s not saying this as a cop, but almost like a concerned parent.

    "I appreciate the advice." I say, not wanting to engage in anymore fights for the moment, I start to limp away, my body screaming in protest. Every step hurts, but it''s a good hurt. The kind that reminds me I made it through.

    "Good work," Captain Stacy shouts from behind me, and I can only raise a hand not bothering to turn around.

    It wasn''t a clean victory. But I won. For Harry. For all the people who count on Spider-Man to show up, even when Peter Parker wants to run.

    And as I disappear into the shadows, I know that holding back¡ªno matter how hard¡ªis still the right thing to do. Because the day I stop, the day I let the full weight of my power loose and kill someone, is the day I stop being Spider-Man.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I sit atop the building, the city sprawled beneath me like a never-ending sea of lights and noise. The cool night air hits my face, sharp and refreshing, though it does little to numb the dull ache of the poison still coursing through my veins. I''ve been trying to breathe through it, trying to convince myself that Felicia''s right¡ªthat my body will fight it off, that I''ll bounce back. But right now, every breath feels like it''s on fire.

    I pull off my mask, running a hand through my hair. The night is peaceful, the kind of peace I rarely get to experience. Up here, above the chaos, it''s almost easy to forget the pain. Almost.

    My phone buzzes in my pocket, the vibration cutting through the quiet. Harry. I already know this call isn''t going to be easy. I brace myself, trying to prepare for whatever''s about to come out of his mouth.

    "Hey, man. It''s uh... good to hear you''re okay," I say, my voice tight, like I''m trying too hard to sound normal.

    There''s silence on the other end. For a moment, I think he might hang up. Then his voice breaks through, low and strained. "Yeah, I''m okay. Haven''t heard from you since what happened at school, just wanted to say uh... I understand. I mean, a giant bug guy came out of nowhere and tried to kill me. So I get why you ran."

    The guilt hits me like a punch to the gut. "Yeah. Thanks, I uh¡ª"

    "But I don''t get why you haven''t come by to see me." His words cut through me, sharper than any villain''s attack. And of course, right at that moment, the poison flares up again, a burning reminder of why I haven''t been able to do anything but survive the last few hours.

    I swallow hard, trying to find the words, but nothing comes. "It''s... well..."

    "Don''t bother coming up with some excuse, Pete. I''ll see you around." His voice is cold, distant, and it hurts more than the venom. "Take care of yourself."

    The line goes dead, leaving me with nothing but the wind and my thoughts.

    I sit there, staring at the phone like it might somehow give me the right answer. But the truth is, there isn''t one. What am I supposed to say? That I ran because I couldn''t risk him finding out who I really am? That I haven''t shown up because I''ve been fighting off poison from a lunatic in a scorpion suit?

    I can''t tell him any of that. Harry''s my best friend, but the second I put on this suit, Peter Parker doesn''t get to have easy answers anymore. I can stop a car from crushing a kid, I can take down some villain hopped up on tech or serum, but I can''t stop the people I care about from getting hurt.

    The worst part? He''s right. I haven''t gone to see him because I''m afraid. Afraid of the questions, of the disappointment in his eyes. Afraid that if he looks too closely, he''ll see through the mask¡ªeven when I''m not wearing it.

    Sometimes, the hardest part about being Spider-Man isn''t the fights or the villains or the constant danger. It''s coming back to the people who still expect Peter Parker to show up. To be the guy they''ve always known, even when I''m not sure I know who that guy is anymore.

    I stare out over the city, the weight of the night pressing down on me. The streets below keep moving, like nothing''s changed. But everything has, and I don''t know how to make it right.

    For now, though, all I can do is wait. Heal. And hope that by the time I figure things out, it won''t be too late for Peter Parker to come home.

 The Rampaging Rhino

    The darkness clings to Aleksei Sytsevich as he slowly regains consciousness, a cold sweat breaking out on his skin¡ªor what should have been his skin. But something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

    His eyes flick open to nothing but shadows. He''s lying on a cold steel table, the weight of his body pressing down like he''s been buried under a mountain. His arms, his legs¡ªthey''re impossibly heavy, alien to him, as though they''ve been grafted with stone. He can''t move.

    "What¡ªWhat is this?" His voice comes out hoarse, raw, as if he''s been screaming. But no, he hasn''t. Not yet.

    The lights flicker on, harsh and blinding. The sudden brightness sears his eyes, and when his vision clears, he sees them¡ªtwo scientists in white coats, hovering near the door, fear plain in their eyes.

    "Mr. Sytsevich," one of them says, his voice shaking slightly. "The experiments worked. Your efforts have paid off."

    Paid off? Aleksei blinks, disoriented, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He tries to lift his hand, but it feels like iron shackled to the table. He glances down and what he sees sends a wave of nausea rolling through him. His skin¡ªit''s no longer skin. It''s like stone, gray and hard, ridged like a rhino''s hide. His muscles bulge grotesquely beneath it, far beyond anything human.

    "No... no, this isn''t right..." His voice is rising, panic creeping in. He thrashes against the restraints, feeling metal groan under his strength. "What have you done to me?!"

    The scientists back away, fear spreading across their faces like a plague. One of them, trembling, reaches for a button on the wall. "Mr. Sytsevich, please, if you would just calm down¡ª"

    "NO!" Aleksei roars, his voice deep and guttural, something almost inhuman. The restraints creak louder as his rage fuels his strength. He glances at his reflection in the glass panel on the wall, and what he sees isn''t Aleksei anymore. It''s a monster. His body is a grotesque mass of muscle and hardened skin, and his head¡ªhis head is capped with a massive, jagged horn, like that of a rhino.

    "This... this is NOT what you said it would be!" His heart is pounding, a drumbeat of fury in his chest. His vision swims with red, the blood roaring in his ears. "This is NOT what I wanted!"

    Suddenly, the intercom crackles to life, and a calm, measured voice echoes through the sterile room. "Mr. Sytsevich, I understand your concerns, but this is exactly what you asked for¡ªunrivaled strength and power. You are now unstoppable."

    Aleksei''s blood turns to ice. That voice¡ªhe knows that voice. It belongs to the man who promised him everything, the man who twisted his words and turned him into this living nightmare. "You!" Aleksei snarls, spittle flying from his lips. "You did this to me! You made me a monster!" His voice reverberates through the room like thunder, shaking the walls. "I''ll kill you for this! I''ll tear you apart!"

    There''s a cold, detached pause on the other end. "I''m sorry to hear that, Aleksei. Goodbye."

    The intercom clicks off, and the door swings open, soldiers flooding in with weapons drawn. They form a line, rifles trained on him, but there''s a hesitation in their eyes¡ªthey know what he''s capable of.

    "You think you can stop me?!" Aleksei roars, and with a terrifying burst of power, he rips the restraints from the table as if they were made of paper. Metal screeches, and for a brief, eerie moment, there''s silence. All eyes are on him¡ªthis hulking behemoth of flesh and stone. He slowly rises from the table, his head brushing the ceiling. His hands grope over his head, feeling the horn jutting out like a crown of death.

    "You''ll die for this, Mr. Green."

    The soldiers panic. Gunfire erupts, a cacophony of bullets tearing through the air, but it''s useless. The rounds ricochet off Aleksei''s hide with a hollow thud. He laughs¡ªa dark, twisted laugh¡ªand with a single swipe of his massive arm, he sends two men crashing into the wall like broken dolls. Blood splatters across the sterile white walls as their bones shatter on impact.

    Chaos erupts. Screams fill the room as Aleksei charges forward, his horn goring through a soldier''s chest with a sickening crunch. His body moves with unnatural speed for its size, barreling through anyone who dares to stand in his way. He''s a wrecking ball of flesh, blood, and rage, every step shaking the foundation of the building.

    The scientists try to run, but they''re too slow. He catches one by the throat, lifting him effortlessly into the air. The man''s legs kick uselessly as Aleksei''s grip tightens. "You made me this way," Aleksei growls, his voice a low rumble. "You made me a monster." With a sickening snap, the man''s neck breaks, and his body goes limp.

    Gunfire and screams blend into the background as Aleksei tears through the facility, each death fueling his rage, each life snuffed out like a candle in the wind. He leaves no one alive. No one escapes.

    As he steps out into the night, the facility behind him is nothing but a graveyard of shattered bodies and broken walls. Aleksei breathes in the cold air, his breath steaming in the night like some great beast. His eyes burn with the singular thought of revenge.

    With his newfound strength, he''s going to make the man responsible pay. And anyone who dares stand in his way will be crushed underfoot.

    There''s no turning back. Aleksei Sytsevich is no more. Only the Rhino remains.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "So, just substitute X with Y, and the equation solves itself. See? Not that hard once you break it down," I say, explaining as simply as I can. Gwen sighs, setting her pencil down in defeat.

    "You''re smart, Peter. Smart enough to know that no amount of studying is going to save me from bombing this test." She smiles, but there''s a weariness in her voice. "I''m hopeless."

    I shake my head, scratching the back of my neck, trying to hide the faint sting from last night''s encounter with a guy swinging a metal bat. "You''re far from hopeless, Gwen. Once you get the formula down, everything else will start to click. It''s just about cracking that first layer."

    She twists a strand of her blond hair around her finger, giving me a sideways glance. "I know Mr. Harrington asked you to tutor me, but don''t you have better things you could be doing right now? I feel like I''m wasting your time."

    For a second, I''m caught off guard, just staring at her. Gwen''s beauty always has a way of making time slow down, even if I''m usually too shy to say it. I snap back to reality, wincing as I subtly grab my side. "Trust me, Gwen, I wouldn''t want to be anywhere else right now," I say, trying to sound as warm and sincere as possible.

    She stands up, walking over to her nightstand. From the drawer, she pulls out an old photo. "Remember this?" she asks, handing it to me. It''s a picture of the four of us: Gwen, Harry, me, and...Mary Jane. My stomach tightens. It feels like a lifetime ago. We''re all grinning like idiots at some beach house, sunburned and carefree. I can almost hear Harry''s squeals when we watched a horror movie that night and he had to get picked up early because he wet himself. Good times.

    "You still have this?" I say, taking the photo, my thumb tracing the edges. "We all look... so young. So innocent."

    "Yeah. And kinda cute," she adds, smiling wistfully. "It''s been forever since I''ve seen Mary Jane. She moved to California, and we just... lost touch. Funny how things change, huh?"

    I hand the picture back, nodding slowly. "Yeah. People move on. I guess it happens. We all did in some way."

    There''s a shift in her expression¡ªher smile fades, replaced by something softer, more reflective. "I know I got distant. We all did, really. I never apologized for that. Maybe I should have, but... I guess we just drifted. I''m sorry, Peter."

    I blink at her, surprised. "For what? You didn''t do anything wrong. Life happens, Gwen. We grew up. There''s no blame in that."

    She sits back down, her shoulders sagging with a mix of relief and nostalgia. "You''ve always been a good guy, Peter. You and Harry... it''s nice that you guys stayed friends. After everything."

    I scoff lightly, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah, well, we haven''t exactly been ''best buds'' lately. Things have been... complicated."

    Gwen yawns and lies back on the bed, arms stretched above her head, looking more relaxed. "You''ll figure it out. Guys always do. You argue, then a day later it''s like nothing happened. It''s one of those things I envy about being a guy."

    I close my notebook and pack it into my bag, trying not to think too hard about Harry. "I hope so. He''s my best friend. I don''t want to lose him."

    I sling my bag over my shoulder, but Gwen props herself up on her elbows. "You leaving already? Got plans for the rest of the night?"

    I hesitate, fumbling for an excuse. "Well, it''s Friday. I figured you''ve probably got more exciting things to do than spend it with me."

    "That''s true," she teases with a smirk, "but since you''ve been helping me, maybe you should join me and my friends later. We''re going to karaoke. You know, as a thank you."

    "K-Karaoke?" I stammer, my hand knocking my phone off the bed. I bend down to grab it, trying to hide how flustered I am. "I don''t wanna impose."

    She laughs softly, sitting up again. "Peter, it''s not pity. I want you to come. We can catch up, for real this time."

    Her offer makes something warm stir in me. A part of me¡ªa part I don''t often get to be¡ªwants to say yes. Peter Parker doesn''t get much time for fun. There''s always something to worry about, always someone to save. But right now, my phone is silent, no alerts flashing across the police scanner. Maybe... maybe I could be Peter for just a few hours.

    But then the familiar weight of responsibility settles in my chest. I glance down at the phone again. "I don''t know," I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper.

    She tilts her head, her eyes searching mine. "Come on, Pete. There''s nothing wrong with having a little fun every once in a while. You deserve it."

    Her words hang in the air, and I find myself considering them. Gwen''s right¡ªwhat''s the harm in having a little fun? Just for tonight. Just for a few hours.

    I smile, a small, almost shy smile. "Okay. Karaoke it is."

    The door creaks open slightly, and in steps Captain Stacy. It¡¯s been a while since I saw him as Peter, though as Spider-Man, we last crossed paths during that scuffle with Mac, aka Scorpion¡ªreal pain in my ass.

    ¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t Mr. Parker. Long time no see,¡± Captain Stacy greets, his voice warm and familiar. That gentleness in his tone¡ªGwen definitely gets it from him. ¡°How are you, son?¡±

    I shuffle awkwardly. ¡°I¡¯m good, sir. Just¡­ trying to do better.¡±

    He smiles, a kind but knowing look in his eyes, like he¡¯s sizing me up in a way only dads do. ¡°Glad to hear it.¡±

    ¡°Dad,¡± Gwen interjects, shooting him a dramatic pout. ¡°We¡¯re trying to study. Can you give us some privacy, please?¡±

    He chuckles, clearly unfazed. ¡°Alright, alright. Didn¡¯t mean to interrupt. Just wanted to check who¡¯s been up here spending all this time with my Gwenny bear.¡±

    Gwen¡¯s reflex is immediate¡ªshe grabs a pillow and hurls it at him, her face a mix of annoyance and affection. He laughs, dodging it easily. ¡°Nice try.¡± He grins at her.

    ¡°Dad. You haven¡¯t called me that in forever,¡± Gwen protests, clearly flustered. ¡°You¡¯re just saying it to embarrass me in front of Peter. Peter please just ignore him he¡¯s just trying to be funny.¡±

    I can¡¯t help but laugh nervously. ¡°Got it¡­ Gwenny bear.¡±

    Her eyes widen, and she hides her face behind a pillow. Captain Stacy roars with laughter. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit, Peter. Gotta keep her on her toes.¡±

    ¡°You guys are the worst,¡± Gwen mumbles, her voice muffled by the pillow.

    Captain Stacy grins, his gaze softening as he looks at us. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you two hanging out again. Always thought you were a good kid, Peter. Can¡¯t say the same about some of her new friends.¡±

    Yeah, I could name one in particular.

    Flash Thompson.

    ¡°Thanks, sir,¡± I say, and he gives me a nod, the look in his eyes saying more than his words ever could.

    Gwen, trying to deflect, speaks up. ¡°Dad, Peter and I are heading to karaoke later. That cool?¡±

    His smile is easy, but there¡¯s a flicker of protectiveness in his eyes. ¡°Sure, just don¡¯t stay out too late. And for god¡¯s sake, don¡¯t bring that blond idiot back here¡­ what was his name? Dash? Still haven¡¯t gotten the smell out of the bathroom.¡±

    ¡°Flash, Dad.¡± Gwen rolls her eyes. ¡°And I won¡¯t.¡±

    Captain Stacy pinches his nose mockingly, and I can¡¯t help but stifle a laugh. I don¡¯t know which is more alarming to me, the fact that Flash has been to Gwen¡¯s house, or the fact that he takes really stinky poops.

    Gwen stands and gives her dad a quick hug. ¡°Love you, pops.¡±

    ¡°Love you too, kiddo.¡± He ruffles her hair in that absentminded, affectionate way only a dad can. ¡°Take care of her while you¡¯re out, Peter.¡±

    ¡°I will, sir,¡± I reply, and with a final nod, he¡¯s out the door.

    As soon as he¡¯s gone, Gwen sighs and looks over at me, half-apologetic, half-exasperated. ¡°Sorry about him. And seriously, can we never speak of the ¡®Gwenny bear¡¯ thing again?¡±

    I grin, ready to tease, but before I can say a word, a pillow smacks me right in the face.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Gwen! Over here!"

    We both turn toward the voice, and my stomach drops. A group of four stands outside the karaoke bar, but it''s not the sight of them that makes me instantly regret agreeing to this¡ªit''s two familiar faces in particular.

    Harry and Felicia.

    "On second thought..." I start to backpedal, but Gwen grabs my arm, pulling me along.

    "Come on," she insists, giving me no choice but to follow her into the awkward social minefield ahead.

    We stop in front of the group: Liv Allen, Flash Thompson, Harry Osborn, and of course, Felicia Hardy. Harry and I lock eyes, and the silence between us is painfully heavy. Neither of us says a word, but everything we''ve left unsaid sits right there between us, impossible to ignore.

    "Who the hell invited Parker?" Flash groans, breaking the tension, jabbing a finger in my direction. "Great, he''s totally gonna kill the vibe. This guy couldn''t loosen up if his life depended on it."

    Liv, ever the peacemaker, rolls her eyes at Flash. "I don''t think Petey''s so bad," she says, trying to throw me a bone. "They say it''s the quiet ones who party the hardest."

    I scratch the back of my neck, feeling a little more out of place by the second. "Uh... thanks?"

    Gwen jumps in with her usual charm, trying to smooth things over. "Don''t worry. Peter''s here to have fun, just like the rest of us. Right, Harry?" She winks at him, trying to include him.

    Harry chuckles awkwardly, glancing at me before nodding. "Right. Now I get why the invite felt so random."

    We exchange small nods, a silent truce for the moment. But as I glance at Felicia, she''s staring at me with that intense gaze of hers, like she''s trying to read my thoughts. I pretend not to notice, even though her look is hard to ignore.

    "So," Gwen claps her hands, breaking the tension. "Let''s get inside, shall we?"

    The group shuffles into the building, with me bringing up the rear. As we enter, I instinctively check my phone, scrolling through my alerts. Nothing major¡ªso far.

    "Hey, put that thing away for just one night." Gwen teases, standing at the entrance with her arms crossed, an eyebrow raised.

    I smile sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry about that." I shove my phone back in my pocket and follow her inside.

    The first hour, I do what I do best: blend into the background. Everyone else seems to be having the time of their lives¡ªlaughing, singing, even dancing. I stick to the edges, hoping they''ll forget I''m even here. Every now and then, I sneak a glance at my phone, just in case something crazy is happening out there. It''s hard to shut off the Spider-sense, even when I''m trying to be Peter for the night.

    But Flash, with his usual lack of subtlety, has other plans. "Hey, Parker!" he slurs, pointing at me, clearly having sweet-talked the lady at the front into giving him alcohol. "Your turn to sing! Stop being a loser and sitting there like a freakin'' ghost!"

    Harry looks back at me, stepping in like he always does. "Nah, Pete''s not really the karaoke type. He''s a bit shy when it comes to this stuff."

    Liz Allen chimes in, egging me on. "Don''t be lame, Petey! You gotta at least do one song."

    Felicia sits quietly, her finger tapping rhythmically against her cheek, looking more disinterested than anything else. It makes me wonder if she''s even enjoying herself.

    And then Gwen, standing right in front of me, hands me the microphone. "Peter," she says softly, giving me that encouraging smile. "You came here to have fun, remember?"

    I sigh. There''s no getting out of this, is there? I take the mic from her, resigning myself to my fate. "Yeah. Let''s do this."

    God, I think I''d rather face down the Lizard again.

    I step up, feeling the weight of every eye in the room on me. Flash is smirking like he''s waiting for me to embarrass myself. Harry watches, trying to look supportive, but I can tell he''s not sure if he should step in again. And Gwen¡ªshe''s just smiling, warm and patient, like she''s the only one in the room who believes I can actually pull this off.

    "You got this, Pete," she says softly.

    I look at the mic in my hand, then back at her. Do

    I?

    I take a deep breath, staring at the microphone like it''s a ticking time bomb. Gwen''s smile is the only thing keeping me from bolting for the door. Everyone else is waiting, some more patiently than others, but I can feel the heat of their gazes on me.

    "Alright," I mutter under my breath. "Let''s get this over with."

    The screen flickers to life, and the song choices roll past. I scroll through, looking for something¡ªanything¡ªthat won''t make this more painful than it already is. My fingers freeze over a familiar title, an old rock ballad that Aunt May used to play in the house when I was a kid. Something safe.

    I select it, and the opening notes drift out through the speakers. The group seems to perk up, though Flash looks like he''s holding back a laugh. I shoot him a look that hopefully says, "Back off," though I''m pretty sure it just comes off as nervous.

    I clear my throat and bring the mic closer, my voice shaky as I start to sing. The first verse feels like I''m stumbling through a fog, but as I get into it, I find my footing. It''s not great, but it''s not as disastrous as I thought it would be either.

    Gwen is nodding along, swaying to the beat, her smile growing wider the longer I go. Liv even claps in rhythm, encouraging me.

    Halfway through the song, something shifts. The nerves start to melt away, replaced by something else¡ªmaybe a tiny bit of confidence, or maybe just a sense of relief that I haven''t humiliated myself yet. My voice steadies, and I manage to actually hit a few notes, much to my own surprise.

    By the time I reach the chorus, I''m getting into it¡ªwell, as much as Peter Parker can. It''s still awkward, but I''m no longer imagining a trapdoor opening under me.

    "See? Not so bad!" Gwen calls out, giving me a thumbs-up, her voice full of playful encouragement.

    I laugh into the mic, trying to hide my embarrassment. "I guess," I reply between lyrics, my voice lighter now, more relaxed. I''m still terrible, but at least I''m surviving.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    By the time the song ends, I let out a breath I didn''t realize I''d been holding. The small group claps¡ªmostly out of courtesy, I''m sure¡ªbut it feels like a victory. Even Flash manages a slow clap, though it''s dripping with sarcasm.

    "Bravo, Parker," Flash says, leaning back in his seat with a grin. "Didn''t think you had it in you."

    "Thanks, I think?" I mutter, stepping back toward the couch. I hand the mic back to Gwen, who''s practically beaming.

    "You did great," she says, genuinely. "I knew you had it in you."

    I shake my head, but I''m smiling. "Yeah, well, maybe don''t get used to it."

    "One song, and you''re already ready to retire?" Gwen teases, nudging me playfully. "Come on, Pete. Don''t tell me you''re a one-hit wonder."

    I roll my eyes, but I can''t help but laugh a little. "Let''s just say I''m leaving on a high note."

    Harry, who''s been quiet this whole time, steps closer, holding a drink in his hand. "You weren''t bad, Pete," he says, his voice softer, more thoughtful than usual. "It was... kinda cool seeing you let loose."

    I blink, caught off guard by his sincerity. Harry''s usually the sarcastic one, but there''s something different in the way he''s looking at me. Something a little sad, like there''s more he wants to say but can''t find the words. I nod, not sure how to respond.

    "Thanks, man," I say quietly.

    Felicia, who had been silent this whole time, finally speaks up. "You didn''t completely suck," she says, her voice cool, but there''s a smirk tugging at her lips.

    "That''s high praise coming from you," I shoot back with a grin.

    She shrugs, leaning back in her chair, arms crossed. "I call it like I see it."

    For a moment, the group settles into a comfortable rhythm. Gwen is already scrolling through the next set of songs, Liv is laughing at something Flash said, and Harry, though still reserved, seems a little more relaxed. Even Felicia, though distant, has a tiny glint of amusement in her eyes.

    I sit back, letting the moment wash over me. For the first time in what feels like forever, I''m not thinking about Spider-Man, or my responsibilities, or the weight of the world pressing down on me. I''m just... Peter. And it feels good.

    Gwen glances at me again, her eyes sparkling with that mischievous look she always gets when she''s planning something. "Alright, Peter," she says, handing me a soda from the table. "Next time, we''re doing a duet."

    I choke on my drink. "What?!"

    She laughs, shaking her head. "You''ll see. You''re not off the hook that easily."

    I groan, but deep down, I know I don''t mind. For once, I''m okay with just being here, with these people. It''s a rare thing, this kind of normal, and I think... I think I could get used to it.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Another hour drags by, and Gwen and Liz have taken the stage again. Flash is hooting like a maniac, shouting lyrics off-key, while Harry pretends to strum along on an invisible guitar. They''re lost in the moment, wrapped up in the glow of bad karaoke and worse harmonizing. I should be too.

    But I can''t.

    Felicia''s eyes are still on me. She hasn''t looked away.

    She''s sitting across the room, watching me like a hawk. It''s been going on for an hour, maybe more. I''ve tried to play it cool, keep my eyes on the others, laugh when they laugh, but it''s impossible. Felicia Hardy has that kind of stare that makes you feel naked, like she''s peeling back layers of skin and looking at what''s underneath.

    Then she moves.

    Without warning, Felicia stands, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "Parker. Come with me." Her voice is low but commanding, cutting through the noise like a blade. Everyone freezes, eyes darting between me and her. It''s like the air has been sucked out of the room, and all that''s left is this heavy, uncomfortable silence.

    Gwen glances at me, her brow furrowing in confusion. Harry''s eyes flicker between us, surprise and suspicion twisting his expression into something unreadable.

    "Uh..." I stammer, heat rising in my chest. "Sure." The word feels like it''s being dragged out of me, and before I can think better of it, I''m standing and following her out of the room. I can feel the eyes on my back, hear the whispers already starting to bubble up behind us.

    We barely make it to the hallway before Felicia grabs my arm and pulls me into the women''s bathroom.

    "Hey!" I protest, trying to wrench my arm free. "I can''t be in here!"

    Felicia slams the door shut, her eyes flashing with that dangerous mix of curiosity and something else¡ªsomething darker. She steps in close, so close I can feel her breath on my face.

    "You''re Spider-Man, aren''t you?"

    The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My eyes go wide, and I scramble to find my footing. "What?! No! I¡ª" My voice cracks. Stupid. I try to laugh it off, but it''s weak, pathetic. "What makes you think¡ª"

    She cuts me off with a scoff, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Please. You''re not fooling anyone, Parker. All the disappearing acts, the cuts, the bruises. At first, I just thought you had the world''s worst luck. But then Spider-Man shows up at our school the other day to fight that freak? And you, Peter Parker, the quiet little nerd, just happened to disappear right before? It''s too convenient. And I don''t believe in coincidences."

    My mouth goes dry. I keep my eyes fixed on the stained tiles, anywhere but her face.

    I keep my eyes fixed on the grimy bathroom tiles, hoping they might somehow swallow me up. "I wouldn''t call it convenient... more like lucky," I mumble, but even I can hear how unconvincing it sounds. My pulse is hammering in my ears now. "Felicia, I''m not Spider-Man. Why would you even think that? Look at me¡ªdo I look like a guy who could be swinging from rooftops?"

    Felicia crosses her arms and tilts her head, eyes narrowing. "You''re not as good a liar as you think, Parker." Her voice is sharp, but there''s a glint of something else behind her eyes¡ªcuriosity, maybe even admiration. "It makes sense. You''ve got the whole dorky act down, but I''ve been watching. You''re not fooling me."

    The room feels smaller by the second, and I can barely breathe. My mind races, searching for some kind of out, something that''ll steer this conversation anywhere but where it''s headed. But Felicia isn''t giving me a chance to catch my breath. She steps even closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper.

    "Don''t worry. Your secret''s safe with me." She smiles, a sly, cat-like grin. "I''m not looking to blow your cover, Peter. I just think... maybe we could help each other out."

    I blink, trying to process what she''s implying. "Help each other? What¡ªwhat does that even mean?" My voice sounds small, desperate.

    Felicia''s gaze lingers on me, cool and calculating. "With powers like yours, I bet there''s a lot we could do together. A lot of things you could help me with." Her smile deepens. "You ever thought about using your abilities for more than playing hero? There''s a whole world of opportunity out there, Parker."

    My stomach churns. "What are you talking about? I''m not¡ª" I cut myself off, realizing how pointless it is to keep denying it. She''s not buying any of it. "Look, Felicia, whatever it is you''re thinking, I''m not interested. I''m not Spider-Man, and even if I was, I wouldn''t be some... criminal."

    She leans back slightly, arms still crossed but her expression softens for a second, almost like she''s disappointed. "Hmph. I see."

    The tension between us lingers for a heartbeat longer, until suddenly my phone dings in my pocket. I pull it out and see a police alert¡ªanother call for all available officers. Another incident.

    Felicia doesn''t miss a beat. "You''ve gotta go take care of something, don''t you?" She raises an eyebrow, her tone taunting, almost daring me to admit it.

    "Uh..." I stammer, scrambling for an excuse. **"I, uh... forgot I have homework from Mr. Octavius. If I don''t finish it by Monday¡ª"

    Felicia rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. It''s like you''re not even trying."

    I glance back at her, feeling the weight of her words. There''s no winning here, not without blowing everything. I pocket my phone, already bracing myself for the fallout of what''s about to happen next.

    Felicia doesn''t say anything more as she pushes open the door, leading the way back out into the hallway. The second we step outside, the atmosphere is charged with something even worse than before¡ªquiet, but crackling with tension. Gwen, Harry, Flash, and Liz are all standing there, their expressions ranging from confusion to outright disbelief.

    Harry steps forward first, his face pale. "Peter?" His voice is tight, barely controlled. "What the hell were you doing in there?"

    I can feel the weight of everyone''s stares, but none of them are as heavy as Harry''s. His eyes are fixed on mine, full of something I can only describe as betrayal. I open my mouth to explain, but no words come out.

    "Oh, this should be good," Flash snickers, folding his arms. "Parker sneaking into the girls'' bathroom? Didn''t think you had it in you."

    Liz elbows him, hissing for him to shut up, but the damage is done. Gwen''s looking at me now too, her eyes wide with hurt. "Peter?"

    I can''t look at her. I can barely meet anyone''s eyes. "It''s not what it looks like. I was just¡ª"

    Before I can finish, Felicia speaks up, cutting through the tension with a lazy, almost amused tone. "Actually, I''ve got something to say."

    Harry''s gaze flicks to her, his face tight with confusion and hurt. "Felicia, what is this? Why were you with Peter in the¡ª"

    Felicia sighs dramatically, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall like she''s completely bored with all of this. "I''m breaking up with you, Harry."

    The room goes dead quiet.

    Harry freezes, blinking as if he didn''t quite hear her right. "Wait¡ªwhat? You''re¡ªbreaking up with me? Here? Now?" His voice cracks, eyes darting between Felicia and me. "Is it because of him? Is there something going on between you two?"

    "No! I say quickly, stepping forward. "There''s nothing going on. We were just¡ª"

    But Felicia doesn''t let me finish. "It''s not about Peter," she says, her voice as cold and sharp as a knife. "It''s about you, Harry. You and me. It''s not working anymore." She shrugs, as if she''s talking about the weather instead of ripping Harry''s heart out in front of everyone. "So, yeah. Sorry."

    "Sorry?!" Harry''s voice is rising now, trembling with a mix of disbelief and anger. "You''re sorry? That''s it? You''re just ending it¡ªjust like that?"

    "Yeah." Felicia doesn''t even flinch. "It''s over."

    I can see the hurt in Harry''s eyes, the betrayal simmering just beneath the surface. He looks at me, and for a second I think he''s going to punch me. But he doesn''t. He just stares at me like I''m a stranger¡ªlike he doesn''t know me at all.

    "You''re supposed to be my best friend," he says quietly, the pain in his voice cutting deeper than any punch could. "How could you do this?"

    "Harry, I didn''t¡ª" I check my phone again, seeing more alerts coming through. My heart is pounding in my chest. "Look, this is the worst timing, but I really have to go."

    Harry lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Right. Of course. You always have to go, don''t you? Wouldn''t want to keep you from your ''homework.''" He turns away, his back stiff as he walks back into the karaoke room, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

    Gwen looks at me, disappointment clear in her eyes, and for a second, I feel like I''ve lost her too.

    "Thanks for inviting me," I mutter, the words hollow as I turn and make my way out of the building, already heading toward the nearest alley to change.

    Hoping that Spider-Man can somehow have a better day than Peter Parker ever could.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "WHAT... is this?" I whisper, my voice swallowed by the chaos in front of me. The scene is pure devastation, the kind that twists your stomach and makes your heart pound. Cars are smashed, crumpled like discarded soda cans, some flipped on their backs while others are embedded into nearby buildings like jagged puzzle pieces that don''t fit. Glass shards glitter under the streetlights, scattered like confetti, but there''s nothing celebratory here. It''s a massacre. Bodies¡ªpolice officers, civilians¡ªare strewn across the street, some pinned under wreckage, some slumped in grotesque, unnatural positions. Blood streaks the asphalt, its crimson stain the only color in this otherwise gray world.

    I rush to the nearest body, a cop in uniform. His face is obscured by blood and broken glass, but I don''t need to see his eyes to know the truth. I place trembling fingers on his neck, desperate to find a pulse, any sign of life.

    Nothing.

    My breath catches, a knot tightening in my throat. "Who... who could''ve done this?" The words hang in the air, unanswered, as if the city itself is holding its breath.

    Then, everything around me goes quiet. Too quiet.

    My senses sharpen in the silence, every nerve on fire. I hear everything¡ªthe steady hum of electricity through the streetlights, the faint buzz of a fly to my left, the trickle of water sliding into a sewer grate to my right. But then, my body goes cold, my spine stiffens.

    Behind me.

    It''s instinct more than anything else that gets me moving. My senses scream behind! just a fraction of a second before a deafening roar fills the air. I throw myself sideways, my heart lurching as a car whistles past me, smashing into the building where I''d just stood. Shards of brick and debris rain down as I scramble to my feet, instinctively clinging to the nearest wall, my sticky fingers gripping onto the rough surface.

    I glance down, my breath heavy, heart thundering in my chest. My mind races, but I can''t afford the luxury of confusion or panic¡ªnot now. Not with something¡ªsomeone¡ªout there, hurling cars like baseballs.

    I stay plastered against the wall, every muscle tense, eyes scanning the wreckage below, trying to make sense of the shadow moving amidst the destruction. This isn''t just some random villain causing chaos. There''s intent here, there''s power.

    Then I see him.

    He''s massive, hulking in the moonlight, his muscles straining beneath torn clothing that''s soaked with blood¡ªnot his, judging by the way he moves. His face, twisted in a cruel grin, gleams with the satisfaction of destruction. He stands over the broken bodies and shattered cars like a king surveying his kingdom of chaos.

    "I''ve heard about you, little spider," he growls, voice like gravel being ground under a steel boot. His eyes lock onto mine, and I feel the weight of his hatred. "I do not intend to let you stand in my way."

    I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry, trying not to let the fear creeping up my spine show. My heart''s hammering in my chest, my mind racing with plans, but all of them feel like bad ideas. Still, I can''t let him see me sweat. Not now. Not when he''s already carved his way through so many people.

    Breathe, Peter.

    "Yeah?" My voice sounds steadier than I feel. "Well, I don''t intend to let you kill anymore people." I loosen my shoulders, trying to play it cool. "This stops now."

    Without thinking, I leap from the wall, firing a web at his face. The sticky strands latch onto his nose, covering his eyes for a brief second, long enough for me to pull myself toward him. My fist cracks against the side of his jaw, a solid hit that should''ve sent anyone else reeling.

    But not him.

    He barely budges, blinking through the webbing with a wild grin. His teeth gleam in the dark, and I swear I hear him chuckle.

    "You call that punch?" His voice is dripping with amusement, like I''m a kid who just threw a pebble at a freight train. "This... is punch."

    Before I can react, his massive fist hurtles toward me. I try to dodge, but he''s faster than I expected. His knuckles slam into my ribs with the force of a speeding truck, and I feel the air leave my lungs in one agonizing gasp. My body''s weightless for a second before I''m flung through the air, crashing through a plate-glass window. The world shatters around me as I tumble into a display of mannequins. Their plastic limbs scatter across the floor, grotesque and lifeless, while I land in a crumpled heap.

    Pain explodes in my side, spreading through my body like wildfire. My head''s ringing like someone struck a bell inside my skull. It would be so easy to just stay here, to let unconsciousness take me, to give up for just a moment and rest.

    But then I hear him¡ªthose footsteps. Each one heavier than the last, the ground trembling beneath his weight. He''s charging, I know it without looking. I can feel the rumble in my bones, hear the fury in his breath. The sound grows louder, closer, and when I glance up, I see him.

    He''s coming at me full-speed, his massive frame hunched forward, the horn on his suit gleaming, aimed right at me like a living, breathing battering ram.

    He''s going to skewer me.

    Panic jolts through me like a live wire. Move, Parker. MOVE!

    I leap out of the way just in time as Rhino barrels through the storefront like a runaway train. The impact shatters the place apart, debris flying in all directions, and I hear the terrified screams of the workers scrambling for the back exit. Rhino''s sheer size makes him like a wrecking ball that can''t be stopped, and yet he moves with a weird sort of grace, like destruction is his natural state.

    "So, first it''s a giant Lizard, then a scorpion, and now a Rhino?" I mutter, flipping over a display counter as he charges again, his footsteps making the floor tremble beneath me. "Where are you guys even coming from? What do I call you? Rhino-Man? Horn King? Nah, that one sounds weird."

    He roars, a deep, guttural sound that rattles the glass, and swipes at me with a hand the size of a truck tire. "Stand still so I can squash you!"

    His voice is full of rage and frustration, like an animal backed into a corner, but I can''t focus on that now. My senses are on high alert as I dodge, jumping from wall to wall, evading each of his brutal attacks. I try to land a punch, aiming for the side of his jaw again, but it''s like hitting concrete. His hide¡ªor whatever that armor is¡ªabsorbs the impact like I''m swatting at him with a feather.

    Before I can even blink, his massive hand backhands me across the store, and suddenly I''m airborne again, the world a blur of glass and metal. My body slams through the front door, shattering it as I crash onto the street. I roll to a stop, my limbs burning, ribs aching, and every inch of me screaming in protest. Damn, he''s strong. Out of all the guys I''ve fought, Rhino''s definitely in a league of his own.

    Struggling to my feet, I wince as I groan, trying to push the pain aside. "Okay... how about we cut for halftime?" I call out, staggering as I stand. "I think you could use it."

    Rhino smashes his way out of the store, the pavement cracking beneath his feet like it''s made of brittle ice. His eyes are full of fury, but there''s something else there too¡ªa kind of pain, a sadness buried beneath the rage. "No breaks," he snarls. "Only death for you. And for him. And anyone who stands in my way."

    I freeze for a second. There''s something in his tone that makes me hesitate, like maybe this isn''t just a one-man wrecking crew. "Wait, ''him''? Who''s him? And... hold on, are you saying somebody did this to you?"

    But Rhino''s not listening. He charges again, and I barely dodge in time, my body aching as I flip over his hulking frame. He slams into a car, flattening it with a single blow, but I can''t shake what he said. There''s something off about this whole thing¡ªmore than just another big, bad guy wanting to cause mayhem.

    "Even if that''s true, what gives you the right to hurt all these people? And kill?" I shout, jumping back as he demolishes another car.

    He laughs, the sound dark and hollow. "Aleksei cares not for the trash that stands in his way," he says, his voice cold and detached. "He is all-powerful now. Nobody can stop him."

    I pause, raising an eyebrow, suddenly feeling a pit form in my stomach. "Uh... are you... Aleksei?"

    His eyes narrow as he straightens up, towering over me, his fists clenched so tight I can hear his knuckles crack.

    "Yes," he growls, his voice low and menacing, "I was Aleksei once... but now I am this thing. And now...I don''t have to answer to no one."

    That''s when it hits me. He''s not just some thug¡ªhe''s been turned into this. Someone did this to him.

    But before I can process it, he charges again, faster than before, his horn gleaming in the night, and this time I barely manage to leap out of the way.

    I leap out of the way just in time, Rhino''s horn skimming the air where my chest had been a second earlier. He barrels past me, smashing through another row of cars, flipping them over like they''re made of plastic.

    I need to think fast. I can''t keep dodging him forever, and every time I hit him, it''s like he barely even feels it. This guy''s built like a tank, I think, scrambling up a nearby streetlight and clinging to the top like it''s a lifeline. He turns, his eyes glowing with rage, and charges again.

    Okay, time for a new plan. I shoot a webline at a nearby dumpster, hurling it in his path, hoping the sheer weight will slow him down. It collides with him head-on¡ªbut all it does is bounce off. He barely even stumbles, just plows through it like it''s made of cardboard.

    "Seriously?!" I yell, more to myself than to him.

    I swing out of the way as he charges again, this time leaping toward a nearby crane that''s stationed in front of a construction site. If I can just get some leverage... I shoot two quick web-lines and yank down on the massive steel wrecking ball attached to the crane, letting it drop with a thundering crash in front of Rhino, hoping to knock him off balance.

    He doesn''t even flinch. He charges straight into it, the impact sending a shockwave through the ground. The crane groans, toppling over as the ball swings wildly, but it barely slows him down. I leap to the side, dodging as the crane''s metal arm crashes to the ground behind me.

    "Okay," I mutter, trying to catch my breath. "That didn''t work. At all."

    But he''s not giving me any time to think. Rhino roars, his eyes blazing with fury, and charges at full speed, the ground shaking beneath him.

    I need to stop him. Now.

    I shoot a web at a nearby billboard, using all the strength I have to tear it from its supports. The massive structure topples forward, slamming into Rhino''s path. For a moment, I think it might work¡ªhe slows down, trying to muscle his way through the wreckage¡ªbut then, with a bellowing roar, he tears through it like tissue paper.

    This guy isn''t just strong¡ªhe''s relentless.

    As he storms through the wreckage, I realize there''s only one thing left: I''m going to have to meet him head-on. This isn''t just a fight anymore. It''s survival.

    I brace myself and leap at him, hitting him with everything I''ve got. Fists fly. He swings, I duck. I jab, he counters. Each blow feels like slamming into a concrete wall, but I can''t stop. My vision blurs as his fist connects with my side, sending me tumbling across the asphalt.

    Police cars surround us now, red and blue lights flashing, casting chaotic shadows over the street. Civilians are gathered, watching in horror, some recording with their phones, others frozen in shock as they see me¡ªSpider-Man¡ªgetting pummeled by this juggernaut.

    I force myself to my feet, my muscles screaming in protest. "Alright, big guy... let''s see what you''ve got," I mutter, spitting out blood.

    Rhino cracks his knuckles. "You''re still standing?" His voice is incredulous. "You''ve got guts, I''ll give you that."

    I don''t respond. I''m too busy trying to strategize, to find some kind of weak spot, but it''s becoming clear¡ªthere is none. He''s not just tough. He''s unstoppable.

    He charges again, and this time I meet him halfway, swinging with everything I have, landing a solid punch to his jaw. It barely fazes him. His fist comes down on my shoulder, and I hear the sickening crack of bone as I''m driven into the pavement.

    Pain explodes in my body, but I can''t stop now. I push myself up, ignoring the agony, and swing another punch. He catches my wrist mid-swing, grinning like a madman, and slams me into the side of a car, the metal crumpling beneath the impact.

    "Spider-Man, huh? You don''t look so amazing now," he taunts, dragging me up by my costume, his fist raised for the final blow.

    I grit my teeth, my vision swimming, but I can''t let him win. I won''t let him win.

    With one final burst of energy, I shoot a web at his face, yanking myself up just enough to break free from his grip. I twist in midair, using his own momentum to send him crashing into a fire hydrant. The impact sends a geyser of water into the air, and for a moment, I have the upper hand.

    But it doesn''t last. He gets up, shaking off the water like it''s nothing, and turns back to me, his face twisted with fury.

    "That''s it!" he roars. "No more games!"

    He charges again, and this time I don''t have the strength to dodge. His horn slams into my side, sending me flying through the air and into a parked truck. The impact is deafening, and everything goes white with pain.

    I collapse onto the street, barely able to move. My vision fades in and out, but I can see him, looming over me, ready to finish the job.

    I can''t stop him. Not like this. Not alone.

    Police sirens blare in the distance, and I hear the shouts of officers, but I know it''s too late. Rhino''s too strong. Too fast.

    "Any last words, bug?" he growls, raising his fist for the final blow.

    I stare up at him, blood trickling down my face, my body broken and bruised. But I''m Spider-Man. I don''t give up.

    "Yeah," I mutter, barely able to speak through the pain. "So, have we settled on calling you the rhino?"

    With a final surge of strength, I shoot a webline at the nearest building, yanking myself out of the way just as his fist comes crashing down, shattering the pavement where I''d been lying.

    I swing weakly to the side, collapsing against a wall, barely able to stand.

    Rhino turns to me, snorting with frustration, but before he can charge again, I hear something in the distance. A sound... like engines roaring.

    As the roaring sound of engines draws closer, I catch a glimpse of a convoy of SWAT vehicles pulling up, tires screeching as the heavily armed officers pour out onto the street. Their black gear glistens under the flashing lights, weapons drawn and aimed straight at Rhino.

    "Swat! Stand down!" one of the officers shouts through a megaphone, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

    Rhino turns, and for a moment, he looks... amused.

    "Really?" he grumbles, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. "More bugs to squash?"

    The SWAT team moves in fast, surrounding him from all sides. I stumble to my feet, trying to wave them off. "Wait¡ªno! You don''t know what you''re dealing with!" I shout, but my voice cracks, drowned out by the pounding of boots and the clattering of gear.

    One of the officers pulls the pin on a canister and throws it at Rhino''s feet. Tear gas.

    White clouds hiss into the air, swirling around him. I watch as the gas envelops his hulking form, choking the street in a thick fog. The officers move in cautiously, weapons raised, assuming he''s down for the count.

    But they''re wrong.

    So very wrong.

    A deep, guttural growl echoes from the fog, and then, like a thunderclap, Rhino roars. The gas doesn''t weaken him¡ªit enrages him.

    "Idiots!" I mutter under my breath, already moving. I shoot a webline to the nearest SWAT officer and yank him out of the way just as Rhino charges through the smoke, his massive body bulldozing through everything in his path. Cars are flipped, light poles snapped like toothpicks, and officers are scattered like bowling pins.

    I spring into action, grabbing one officer and tossing him onto a nearby rooftop, webbing two more out of Rhino''s way. But it''s chaos. There are too many of them, and Rhino is too fast.

    "Move!" I shout, trying to corral the SWAT team out of Rhino''s warpath. I manage to web up two more officers, pulling them to safety, but the others are scrambling, panicked.

    Rhino''s rage is like nothing I''ve ever seen. His skin is practically steaming, his movements faster, more erratic. He swings wildly, smashing into the SWAT vans, turning them into scrap metal. One officer gets too close, and Rhino grabs him, lifting him like a ragdoll.

    "No!" I yell, shooting a web at the officer and yanking him free just before Rhino can crush him in his grip.

    But Rhino''s too quick. He whips around, swinging his massive fist at me. I don''t even have time to dodge. The blow catches me full force, sending me flying into a building. The impact is brutal. I crash through brick and mortar, my body screaming in pain as I collapse onto the rubble.

    I can''t do this. My body feels like it''s breaking down, every inch of me aching, my vision blurry. But I can''t let him win. I can''t let him hurt anyone else.

    I push myself up, groaning as I stagger to my feet. I have to end this.

    Rhino charges again, and this time, I don''t dodge. I leap straight at him, fists raised, bringing them down with everything I''ve got. I rain blow after blow onto him¡ªhis head, his chest, his back¡ªwhatever I can reach. My knuckles feel like they''re shattering with each hit, but I don''t stop.

    He swings wildly, trying to catch me, but I''m faster. I duck under his arms, slam my fist into his gut, leap onto his back and start pounding his head. But it''s like hitting solid rock. Every punch I throw feels useless, but I don''t back down.

    I can''t back down.

    I grab a chunk of concrete from the street and smash it against his skull. He staggers, but just for a second. I use that moment to web his legs, yank him forward, and send him crashing into a parked truck.

    But he gets up. He always gets up.

    Rhino snarls, blood trickling from his mouth. His eyes are wild with fury, his massive hands clawing at the pavement as he rises. He swings again, and this time I''m not fast enough. His fist slams into my ribs, sending me skidding across the street like a ragdoll.

    Pain explodes in my chest. Something''s broken. Maybe everything''s broken.

    But I get up.

    I throw another punch. Then another. Each one weaker than the last, but I keep going. I have to keep going. My fists are bleeding now, the skin torn from the relentless assault, but I won''t stop. I swing again, putting every ounce of strength left in my body into the punch.

    This time, I feel something. A crack. Rhino grunts, stumbling back, his eyes wide in shock. I follow it up with another punch, and another, and another, each blow more desperate than the last.

    "I''m... not... done..." I growl through gritted teeth, my voice hoarse from the pain.

    Rhino reels, his massive body swaying as I land one final punch straight to his jaw. He staggers back, his knees buckling, and for the first time, I see doubt flicker in his eyes.

    But it''s not over. Not yet.

    With a roar, Rhino charges again, his horn aimed straight at me. I leap out of the way, webbing him mid-charge, slamming him into the ground. But he''s still not stopping. His rage is too deep, too overwhelming.

    We collide again, fists flying, blood spilling. Civilians scream, watching from the sidewalks, the police frozen in shock as we tear the street apart, locked in a brutal slugging match. Each blow sends shockwaves through my body, but I keep fighting.

    I can''t let him win.

    We crash into a bus, tearing through the metal as I hammer him with everything I have left. Rhino roars in pain, his body starting to give way under the relentless onslaught.

    "I''m... Spider-Man," I mutter, my voice barely a whisper now, my vision going dark. "And I don''t... back... down..."

    With one final punch, I slam him into the pavement, the impact shaking the ground beneath us. Rhino groans, his massive body finally going still, the fight draining out of him.

    I collapse onto the street next to him, barely able to breathe. My body is broken, battered, but I''m still alive.

    The SWAT team approaches cautiously, their weapons still trained on Rhino''s unconscious form. I watch through blurry eyes as they secure him, the battle finally over.

    "Should we grab him too?" I hear one of the officers say.

    Captain Stacy comes into view, his eyes glazing over my injured body. "Hey, kid, can you hear me?" He says, and for a moment I think he might actually be concerned.

    I don''t open my mouth though, still painful right now.

    "You''re badly messed up, we''re gonna take you to get some treatment, alright? Just stay there." Captain Stacy, click his radio calling for something or other, my consciousness begins to fade in and out...if I don''t get up....then I''ll be found out, and no more Spider-Man.

    I don''t wait for whoever it is that he called to answer. My instincts kick in, and I shoot a web toward a nearby building, desperate to escape the chaos and confusion. The pain radiates through my body with each movement, a sharp reminder of how close I came to being crushed under Rhino''s fury.

    With one final, pained glance over my shoulder, I watch them haul the unconscious beast away, while Captain Stacy stares as I retreat. I hope they can contain him.

    But something about what that Rhino said gnaws at my mind¡ªdid someone create him? If so, is this connected to Dr. Connors or that Scorpion guy? The questions swirl, but before I can dive deeper, I feel a familiar, gut-wrenching sensation: I try to shoot another web, and nothing comes out.

    My heart drops. No. No, no, no! I''m falling now, plummeting, and all I can think about is the agonizing impact that awaits me.

    The ground rushes up too fast, and I brace for the inevitable crash. I smack into the metal stairs of a nearby building before tumbling gracelessly into a trash can. The sound of crumpling metal and my own groan echoes in the dim alleyway. "Ow." The word barely escapes my lips before I nearly pass out from the surge of pain engulfing my body.

    I lay there for a few moments, surrounded by the stench of refuse, feeling utterly defeated. My suit is torn, shredded in places where Rhino''s fists had collided with me. My hands are bloodied and raw, the skin ripped and bruised from the relentless barrage I endured. I survived¡ªbut at what cost?

    I close my eyes, trying to push the pain to the back of my mind. I need to rest, but the thought of staying here, of letting weakness claim me, makes me shudder.

    Even though every breath sends shockwaves of agony through my ribcage, I know I have to move. I glance down at my left arm; it feels wrong, twisted at an unnatural angle. I wince at the thought of how badly I must look.

    Somehow, I have to take care of this broken arm, but the thought of trying to make it all the way home feels insurmountable. The pain is blinding, each heartbeat a reminder of how close I came to being crushed by Rhino''s brute force. I can barely keep my eyes open, yet the urge to push through is stronger than the pain.

    If can make it back to my backpack¡ªthe one I stashed earlier. The thought of reaching for my phone to call someone flickers in my mind. There''s only one person I can think of.

    Struggling to my feet, I brace myself against the wall of the alley, the rough brick digging into my palm. I glance down the dim corridor of the alleyway, the fading light feeling like a last breath. Just get to the backpack. You can do this.

    Each step is a battle, every inch a reminder of my fragility. My muscles scream at me, each jolt sending fresh waves of pain through my body, but I keep moving.

    As I finally reach the backpack, I drop to my knees, the cold ground a welcome contrast to the heat surging through my aching limbs.

    Changing out of my suit into my clothes feels like I''m running a marathon right now, I slide on my pants and pray that nobody decides that this would be the time for some dumpster diving. Luckily the streets are clear after the Rhino came through, I go through my contacts and I hesitate for a few minutes before pressing call.

    Then I wait, and feel my eyes becoming harder and harder to keep open.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Peter?"

    I blink my eyes open, startled by the darkness surrounding me. It takes a moment for my vision to adjust, the shadows slowly coalescing into familiar shapes.

    "Felicia... you came..." I manage a pained smile, relief flooding over me like a balm. "I didn''t think..."

    Felicia kneels beside me, her expression a mix of concern and disbelief. "Jesus, what happened to you? Does this have to do with why everything looks destroyed?"

    I let out a low chuckle, the sound laced with pain. "I guess you could say that." It''s all I can manage, my body screaming at me to rest, to give in to the darkness that threatens to pull me under.

    Her gaze lingers on me, searching my battered face for answers. I know she has a hundred questions swirling in her mind, and I can feel the weight of the secret I''ve kept. If she wasn''t sure before, she must know now. I am the spider in the web of chaos.

    "Come on, my place isn''t far from here. My dad''s gone, and it would be tragic to let you bleed out and die in this alley." There''s an urgency in her voice, mixed with a no-nonsense tone that I find oddly comforting.

    "Thank you," I breathe, each word a struggle, but my gratitude is genuine. "I didn''t... I didn''t know what to do."

    "Yeah, yeah," she replies, her hands strong as she helps lift my battered body. "God, it looks like you got hit by a truck or something. You''re gonna have to explain everything to me later, you got that?"

    "I promise." The words spill out before I can think, a promise forged in pain and desperation.

    With that, she takes my arm, guiding me through the dimly lit streets. Each step sends sharp jolts of agony through my body, but her presence is a lifeline, grounding me amidst the storm of my thoughts. The shadows seem to loom larger than life, memories of the fight replaying in my mind¡ªthe sound of shattering glass, the thunder of Rhino''s charges, the feeling of helplessness as he pummeled me into the ground.

    I steal glances at Felicia, her features illuminated by the sparse streetlights. There''s determination etched on her face, an unwavering resolve that somehow pushes me forward. The pain feels less overwhelming when I focus on her, on the way she walks with purpose, as if she''s leading me out of the darkness¡ªnot just the physical space around us, but the mental abyss I''ve been teetering on since that brutal confrontation.

    Finally, we reach her apartment, and she helps me inside. The door closes behind us, a barrier against the outside world, but it also feels like a threshold I''ve crossed. Inside, the air is warm and inviting, yet it does little to ease the chill of fear that grips me.

    Felicia leads me to the couch, and I collapse onto it, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. I close my eyes for a brief moment, the exhaustion threatening to pull me under. But I can''t afford to drift away¡ªnot now.

    "Just hang tight," she says, her voice steady as she disappears into another room. I can hear the sounds of water running, the clinking of something¡ªa glass? A first aid kit? My mind races with a thousand thoughts, but one rises to the surface: I survived, and I can''t keep running from the truth.

    When she returns, she''s holding a damp cloth and a small bottle of antiseptic. "This is going to sting," she warns, her voice softening as she kneels beside me again.

    I take a deep breath, nodding even though I''m not sure I''m ready for whatever pain comes next. "I can handle it," I say, but I''m not sure if I believe it.

    As she dabs at my wounds, I wince, each touch igniting the fire of pain within me. "You''re going to tell me everything, right?" she prompts, her eyes searching mine for reassurance.

    "Yeah," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. "I will."

    With each passing moment, the warmth of her presence begins to thaw the icy grip of fear. It''s a start, a fragile beginning to the conversation I know we need to have. I can''t keep living this double life.

    And as I lay there, I realize that maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªI don''t have to face this alone anymore.

 Three Problems

    "SO you were bitten by some random spider? It was just luck?" Felicia asks, disbelief lacing her tone as I finish telling her my story.

    I groan softly, shifting on the couch, every muscle in my body still aching from the fight with Rhino. "Yeah, something like that. It could''ve been anyone." My voice is hoarse, exhaustion creeping into every word.

    Felicia leans back into her sofa, absorbing everything I''ve just laid out. "And I guess we also got lucky that the boy who got bit just so happened to have a hero complex."

    I wince at that, the memory of my first nights with these powers flickering in my mind, a dark shadow cast by guilt. "It''s not as simple as that," I mutter. "I''m not really proud of what my first instincts were with these powers." My throat tightens as I remember the way I had used my abilities for selfish gain, how I''d let that criminal escape... how Uncle Ben...

    "But what matters is that I learned," I continue, forcing the words out despite the weight they carry. "Having powers like these, it comes with a responsibility."

    Felicia rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "To get your ass kicked?"

    I shake my head, even though it hurts. "To do the right thing."

    "Sounds boring." She yawns, reclining further into the couch. "Seems to me like you could do a lot of things with power like that. I mean while you were sleeping they played what happened earlier on the tv, I saw you fighting that thing on the news. I can''t believe a little guy like you took down something like that."

    The memory of Rhino nearly killing me flashes behind my eyes, a wave of nausea rolling through me as I recall just how close it all came to ending. "Yeah, well... just because you can do something doesn''t mean you should."

    She arches a brow, clearly unimpressed with the moral stance. "And what about Osborn? He doesn''t know about your powers?"

    "No. Definitely not," I say quickly, the thought of Harry finding out turning my stomach. "Nobody does, and for good reason. If anyone knew... it''d be trouble." My voice drops, becoming more serious. "I can''t... I won''t let anything bad happen to the people I care about." I lock eyes with her, hoping she understands that this isn''t just some game, hoping she can see the gravity of it all.

    "Okay, okay, I get it. Responsibility, good guy stuff, heroing, yadda yadda," she says, waving me off as if the whole thing bores her.

    I lean forward, wincing at the pain in my ribs, but I need to make sure she knows how important this is. "You have to promise me, Felicia. You won''t say anything. Not to Harry. Not to anyone. This has to stay between us."

    She raises her hand lazily, smirking. "Scout''s honor."

    I narrow my eyes, not entirely trusting her casual dismissal, but I''m too tired to argue. "I guess that''ll do... for now."

    She stands up, stretching as she heads toward the stairs. "You can crash here tonight," she says over her shoulder. "I''ve got some of my dad''s old clothes you can change into. Not sure if they''ll fit, though."

    "Felicia," I say, stopping her just before she disappears up the stairs. She turns, looking down at me with that same cool, detached expression. "Thank you," I say, my voice softer now, the weight of everything pressing down on me¡ªmy pain, my exhaustion, my secrets.

    She pauses for a moment, her mask of indifference slipping just a little. She nods, giving me a lazy thumbs-up before disappearing up the stairs, leaving me alone in the dimly lit living room.

    I sink deeper into the couch, my body screaming for rest, but my mind still racing. I don''t know how long I can keep this up, balancing the hero and the mask, the lies and the truths. Felicia''s right¡ªI could do so much with these powers, but I know now how thin the line is between saving people and losing yourself.

    With a deep, aching breath, I close my eyes, the pain still thrumming in my body like a dull, persistent ache. Tomorrow will be another battle, another lie to protect the people I care about. But for tonight, I let the darkness take me, hoping it brings a brief, much-needed relief.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I felt like I was moving in slow motion, completely detached from my surroundings as I sat in class. Every movement sent a dull wave of pain through my body, making it hard to even lift my arms.

    I could feel the bruises beneath my clothes, the tightness in my muscles, and the sharp sting of cuts still healing. I kept my head down, hoping no one would notice how messed up I really was. The weekend wasn''t enough time for me to get over these injuries, and thankfully Aunt May was still training out of state, so I didn''t have to worry about explaining anything to her, although she still checks in almost every other hour.

    The classroom buzzed with the usual chatter, but I felt invisible¡ªsomething I usually found comforting, but today, it just highlighted how isolated I was. No one was paying attention to me, so I figured I didn''t have to worry about anyone figuring out my secret. I glanced over at Harry, who was hunched over his notebook, scribbling furiously without looking up once. His silence hit harder than any punch Rhino had thrown at me.

    The bell rang, and I barely registered Mr. Octavius mumbling something about the homework. He always seemed like this job was so beneath him, gave almost no life or energy into his work here, I''d heard that this isn''t his only job, which doesn''t really surprise me. He''d always seemed like the overachieving type.

    My eyes caught Gwen''s as she gathered her things to leave. After everything that happened, I couldn''t let things just hang in the air. I needed to explain myself¡ªto fix something about what happened Friday. "Hey, Gwen," I forced a smile, trying to act casual despite the agony in my body.

    She looked at me, her expression shifting into something I couldn''t quite read. Concern, maybe? "Peter, is...everything alright?" Her eyes scanned me, clearly noticing the way I was slouched in pain, trying to hide how banged up I really was.

    "I''m fine," I lied, trying to sound convincing enough to avoid more questions. "I just... I never got a chance to explain what happened."

    Gwen''s gaze softened, but she made a subtle glance toward Harry, who was already halfway out the door. "That''s okay, Peter. I''m really not the one who needs to hear anything," she said. "I think he would like one though."

    My chest tightened. "It wasn''t like that. Felicia and I¡ªshe was just cornering me about something, and why she dragged me into the bathroom, I don''t know, but she¡ª"

    "She," came a voice from behind me, interrupting my fumbling explanation. Felicia. She casually draped an arm over my shoulder, her voice smooth and confident. "Just needed to ask him about a job at his aunt''s restaurant. I heard she works there from Osborn, and my dad and I... well, things haven''t been great lately with bills, so I wanted to talk in private."

    I blinked, momentarily stunned by how effortlessly she spun that lie. She was far better at this than I was. "Uh... yeah, exactly."

    Gwen''s face softened with sympathy. "Oh... I''m really sorry to hear that. Well, I know his aunt is a sweet lady. I''m sure she wouldn''t mind helping. But Peter," she paused, giving me a small smile, "you never had to explain anything to me."

    "Actually, I did," I said, my tone growing more serious. "I didn''t want you thinking I was the kind of person who''d do something like that." I hoped she understood how much it mattered to me that she saw me for who I really was.

    Gwen smiled gently. "Don''t worry, Peter. I never did."

    For the first time in what felt like ages, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. "In that case, maybe we could¡ª"

    Before I could finish my sentence, Felicia tugged on my arm, cutting me off. "Okay, we really gotta go discuss the terms of my employment. Nice chatting with you, blondie," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

    "Wait, Gwen¡ªsorry!" I called over my shoulder as Felicia dragged me away, leaving me with yet another unresolved conversation hanging in the air.

    Felicia pushes me hard against the locker, her eyes darting around like she''s weighing her options. "Okay, look. We need to talk," she says in a low voice, but the urgency is clear. I glance to my left, noticing the curious looks from nearby students. Their whispers feel like they''re closing in, making me hyper-aware of just how exposed we are right now.

    "Really?" I ask, irritation creeping into my tone despite the fatigue weighing on me. "About what?"

    She pauses for a moment, as if unsure how to word what''s on her mind. "So, I was thinking, what if you and I, you know, teamed up. I mean, with your powers and my..." She trails off, searching for the right words. "My... look, we''ll figure that part out later. But I need your help. And you''re a hero, right? You help people."

    I lean in, lowering my voice. "Felicia, keep it down," I hiss, scanning the hallway to make sure no one''s paying us too much attention. The last thing I need is someone overhearing that part of the conversation. "And what do you even mean? Team up for what? What kind of help do you need from me?"

    She hesitates again, and for a split second, I see something vulnerable flash in her eyes. Her usual cockiness is gone. "Look, I keep your secrets, you keep mine. Deal?"

    The late bell rings, but I don''t even flinch. Whatever she''s about to say, I have a feeling it''s important to be worth the detention that''s definitely coming my way.

    Felicia looks away, her voice quieter now. "When I told your friend back there about my dad struggling with bills... that wasn''t a lie. He does what he can, but he''s an ex-con. No one around here wants to give him a real job. So I do what I can, you know?" She finally meets my eyes again, and I can see the shame, the frustration. "Sometimes I borrow things¡ªstuff that rich people won''t even miss. They''ve got enough money to replace it, right? But... that doesn''t always cut it."

    "Wait, hang on," I interrupt, my stomach twisting. "You''re saying you steal stuff?"

    Felicia rolls her eyes like it''s no big deal. "Yeah, sure, call it what you want."

    "Call it what it is, Felicia. You steal." Then a thought hits me, and it''s like ice water flooding my veins. "You didn''t... you didn''t date Harry because of you wanted to steal from him, did you?"

    She glances away for a second, and that''s all the confirmation I need. "Look, it''s not like they ever miss anything."

    "Felicia, that''s messed up! He liked you! You can''t just¡ª" My voice catches in my throat. "You can''t just use people like that. That''s not right. How could you do that to him?"

    She lets out a sharp laugh, one that''s more bitter than amused. "He liked me? Or did he like how I looked? Let''s not pretend there was any romance involved, Parker. It was like a business deal. He got a pretty girl to show off, and I got to pay rent. Fair trade, don''t you think?"

    "No, I don''t," I say, my voice rising in frustration. "Because it wasn''t a business deal to him. He had no idea what you were really after. That''s not fair, Felicia. And it''s definitely not right."

    She shrugs, completely unbothered by my outburst. "Well, I broke up with him, didn''t I?"

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    "That doesn''t make it okay!" I''m shaking my head, struggling to process what she''s telling me. Harry''s my friend. And now this girl who knows my secret¡ªthis girl I thought I could trust¡ªhas been using him? The sick feeling in my stomach is growing, and I''m starting to regret trusting her at all.

    Felicia lets out a long sigh, rubbing her temple like she''s already tired of this conversation. "Why don''t you save the lecture for later, Parker? Right now, I need your help."

    "I''m not helping you rob people," I say, my voice firm. "And whatever you stole from Harry, you need to give it back."

    "I wasn''t going to ask you to steal anything." Her confidence wavers for a moment, her voice softer than before. "And everything I took is already gone. Sold. I just... need your help with some guys."

    I pause, eyeing her skeptically. "What guys?"

    Felicia leans in closer, her face more serious than I''ve ever seen it. "I messed up, okay? I hung out with the wrong crowd¡ªdid some things I shouldn''t have. Now these guys want to collect. And they know where I live. They''re dangerous, Peter. I need you to scare them off."

    My mind races. This could be a trap. She could be lying to me, manipulating me the same way she did with Harry. But what if she''s telling the truth? What if she''s in real danger? I''ve obviously tangled with bad guys before, but this is different. This would be personal, and my body is already barely holding together after what happened with Rhino. Could I even handle a fight right now?

    "Why don''t you just call the police?" I ask, knowing full well what her answer will be.

    She lets out a harsh laugh. "Really? You think the cops are going to help? They''ll just make things worse. They''ll get me or my dad killed. No thanks."

    I lean back against the locker, rubbing my sore shoulder. "Okay... let''s say I help. What exactly do you expect me to do?"

    "I don''t need you to kill anyone, Parker. Just rough them up a bit, scare them. Make sure they don''t come around anymore. After that, we''re even." She says it like she''s certain I''ll agree, like I owe her for the times she''s patched me up or kept my secret.

    I''ve fought criminals before, but only when they were already doing something wrong. This... this is just so different. It feels wrong. She expects me to just go and beat up people I don''t even know? But the thought of leaving Felicia to deal with this on her own gnaws at me. I don''t want to be responsible for something bad happening to her. I take a deep breath, my body aching with every second of indecision.

    "Alright," I say finally. "I''ll help you. But we do it my way. And after this is over, you stop stealing. No more ''borrowing'' things, Felicia."

    She flashes me a victorious smile. "I knew you were my guy, Parker. After school, we''ll head to my place, and I''ll tell you where to find those jerks."

    I glance at the clock, realizing I''m already ten minutes late to Algebra. Between the Rhino, Scorpion, and now this, I''m falling behind in everything, including my actual life. "Great," I mutter. "That''s if I don''t get detention for the rest of the year."

    "Just get through the day, and we''ll talk later." She backs up, giving me a wink. "See you later, Parker."

    As she walks away, disappearing down the hallway, I can''t help but feel the weight of everything closing in. What have I gotten myself involved with?

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The last bell of the day rings for my history class, and the room erupts as students scramble out of their seats, eager to leave. I move slower, knowing I can''t rush through another class without facing reality. "Mr. Parker," I hear from behind me. Turning, I see Mr. Baldwin standing by his desk, his eyes locked on me.

    "Yes, Mr. Baldwin?" I respond, already feeling the weight of whatever''s coming. I start packing my books, slower than usual.

    "Let''s talk for a minute," he says, his tone leaving no room for excuses.

    I swallow hard. "Y-Yes, sir," I mutter, walking up to the front of the class. As I stand before him, I can''t help but hope, just for a second, that maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªhe''s about to praise me for something I''ve done right.

    "I can''t help but notice you''ve been having trouble with my class lately," Mr. Baldwin says, cutting right to the point.

    So much for that hope.

    "I''m sorry, sir," I start, the words feeling heavy. "I''ve just had so much goin¡ª"

    He raises a hand, stopping me mid-sentence. "Yes, I''ve heard that before. A lot going on lately. But if I''m being honest, Peter. I''m surprised to hear it from you."

    The disappointment in his voice hits harder than I expected. He''s right. I used to be the kid who always turned things in on time, always had the answers. But lately, Spider-Man has been taking up every ounce of energy I have, and everything else¡ªschool, friends, family¡ªhas taken a back seat. I feel like I''m falling behind in all parts of my life, and no one can ever know why.

    Mr. Baldwin sighs, softening his tone a bit. "Look, I''m not trying to get on your case. I''m actually here to offer a solution. The end of the semester is next week, and as it stands, you''re not passing. So, how about we get you a tutor?"

    I blink. A tutor? "A... tutor?"

    He glances behind me. "Ms. Stacy, could you come here for a moment?"

    I turn to see Gwen sitting with her friends, their eyes suddenly on us. The embarrassment is immediate. I try to keep it together as Gwen walks over, all smiles.

    "Sure, Mr. Baldwin. Hey, Peter," she says, smiling at me warmly.

    I return the smile, forgetting for a second that normal people usually say something back. "Hey," I finally manage to get out.

    "Ms. Stacy," Mr. Baldwin begins, looking between the two of us. "I believe you''d make a great tutor for Mr. Parker here."

    I start to object, heat rising in my face. "Wait, I don''t think Gwen really wants to waste her time¡ª"

    "Sure thing, Mr. Baldwin," Gwen cuts in, still smiling, completely unbothered.

    Mr. Baldwin claps his hands, like it''s all settled. "Perfect. Peter, I want you to stay focused. You''re being given an opportunity here, and I''d really hate to see you waste it."

    I nod, my mouth dry. "Yes, sir," I manage, glancing at Gwen, who''s still smiling at me like this is no big deal.

    As I start to head toward the door, Gwen falls into step beside me. "You didn''t have to do that, Gwen. I''m sorry for dragging you into my mess."

    She laughs softly. "Peter, you''re literally tutoring me already in algebra. This is the least I could do. Besides, it''ll give us a chance to catch up." She flashes me another smile as we walk down the hallway. "So, are you free right now? We could start with Algebra for an hour and then I can help you with history after."

    It sounds perfect. Spending two hours alone with Gwen Stacy, laughing, talking, studying¡ªeverything I want. But then reality crashes in. Tonight, I''ve got a whole other world waiting for me, and the weight of it feels heavier than ever.

    "I''d love to, Gwen. Honestly, I would," I say, my voice more somber than I intended. "But I can''t tonight."

    Her smile doesn''t waver. "Don''t worry, Pete. How about tomorrow then?"

    I nod quickly. "Yeah, tomorrow. I wouldn''t miss it," I say, hoping I don''t sound as awkward as I feel. "Maybe after we could¡ª"

    "Puny Parker!" Flash Thompson''s voice booms from behind me before I can finish. I don''t even have time to react before his arm wraps around my shoulder, pulling me in like we''re best buddies. "Osborn still hate your guts after you stole his girl?"

    I grit my teeth, glaring up at Flash. "Not really your business, Flash. Don''t you have, like, footballs to be throwing around or something?"

    Flash snorts. "What would you know about that, Parker?" He turns his attention to Gwen. "We''re heading to the lake later. You down?"

    Gwen, as polite as ever, smiles. "Sure, sounds fun. I guess I''ll see you around, Pete. Don''t cancel on me tomorrow, okay?" she teases before turning to walk away with Flash.

    Of course, Flash has to get in one last jab, slapping me hard on the back of the head as he walks off, flipping me off just as Gwen turns away. She doesn''t see it. Of course, she doesn''t.

    For a split second, I imagine how easy it would be to put Flash in his place. One well-timed move, and Spider-Man could send him flying across the hallway. Spider-Man could teach him a lesson. But Peter Parker? Peter Parker takes the hit, keeps his head down, and pretends like it doesn''t bother him.

    And maybe, right now, that''s the real superpower.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I knock on Felicia''s door, feeling strangely out of place. For once, I''m not covered in bruises or blood, which is a weird change of pace. The door creaks open, and an older man''s suspicious face peeks through the gap. He sizes me up for a second before throwing the door wide, clearly unimpressed.

    "Who are you, and what do you want?" His voice is rough, almost bored, as if he''s had this conversation a thousand times before.

    I clear my throat, trying to stand up straight despite feeling like a kid caught sneaking in past curfew. "Uh...hello, sir. My name''s Peter Parker. I''m here to see Felicia."

    His eyes narrow. "She doesn''t wanna see you." Then he slams the door right in my face, leaving me staring at the wood, stunned.

    Great start, Parker.

    I can hear muffled voices on the other side of the door. They''re arguing now, the low rumble of his voice mixing with Felicia''s sharper tone. I start to wonder if I should''ve taken Gwen up on that tutoring session instead. The door flies open again, but this time, Felicia''s standing there, her face a mix of irritation and apology.

    "Sorry about that. He can be...a lot."

    I offer her a sheepish smile. "Don''t worry about it."

    She rolls her eyes and motions for me to come in. The inside of the house feels all too familiar¡ªprobably because I''ve been here half-dead more times than I''d care to admit. I step in, slipping off my shoes out of habit.

    Her dad''s still on the couch, nursing a beer and glaring at me like I''m some kind of unwelcome intruder. The last time I was here, I was bleeding all over that couch.

    I remember spending hours on the weekend helping her clean it all up, even though my body was a complete wreck.

    "H-hello again, sir," I say, forcing a polite smile and trying not to look as nervous as I feel.

    Her dad grunts.

    "We''re going upstairs," she replies over her shoulder, her voice laced with defiance.

    "The hell you are," he shoots back, his words heavy with suspicion.

    Felicia stops mid-step, turning just enough to glare at him. "Keep it up, and I''ll lock the door behind us."

    Her dad grumbles into his beer, clearly not interested in pushing the issue further. I offer him a quick, awkward smile, which is met with a blank stare, and then follow Felicia up the stairs. His eyes stay glued to me the entire way up.

    "Your dad seems...nice," I say, trying to break the tension as we reach the top of the stairs.

    Felicia snorts. "He''s all bark."

    She leads me into her room, and I stop for a second, taking it all in. The walls are painted black, with posters of some rock band I vaguely recognize plastered haphazardly across the space. Two black kittens sit lazily on her bed, their eyes following me with curiosity. It''s darker than I expected, but somehow, it suits her. It''s simple, minimal¡ªjust like her.

    "You, uh...not really into decorating, huh?" I ask, glancing around.

    She arches an eyebrow at me. "What are you talking about? I did decorate."

    I nod slowly, not entirely sure how to respond to that as she fills two bowls with cat food. Her kittens immediately perk up, hopping down from the bed to eat.

    I sit down cautiously on her bed, which is surprisingly soft. "Alright, Felicia. So, what''s the plan here?"

    She sits down next to me, her eyes glinting mischievously. "I thought we were going to do it your way, remember?"

    I sigh. "Yeah, by that, I meant we''re not just going to rough some guys up like it''s the Wild West. There''s got to be a better way to deal with these people."

    She smirks, leaning back on her elbows. "If you''ve got a plan, Parker, I''m all ears."

    I rub the back of my neck, feeling the weight of what''s coming. "Well, for starters, I need to know what I''m dealing with. You said you did some things you shouldn''t have. What was it? Please tell me you didn''t...kill anyone."

    Felicia laughs, though there''s no real humor in it. "Not yet."

    My stomach drops a little. "Felicia..."

    "Relax, Parker. I haven''t killed anyone," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. "But as for what I did, that''s a little more complicated. And I''d rather not get into the details."

    "If you want my help, you''re going to have to trust me," I insist, leaning forward slightly.

    She shoots me a pointed look. "Trust you? Like how you trusted me with your little secret?"

    "That''s...different," I stammer, trying to figure out if it really is. "Look, I just need to know what I''m getting into before I start helping you with these guys."

    Felicia sighs, rolling her eyes. "Fine. They''re dealers, Parker. Except what they deal isn''t your run-of-the-mill stuff you''d find on the street. It''s this weird green pill they call the Goblin. It''s like...cocaine on steroids. It''s insane."

    I blink, trying to wrap my head around it. "Wait...you didn''t take that stuff, did you?"

    "No," she says quickly. "But I helped them sell it. The money was too good to pass up. But then things went south. I got jumped by these two jerks, and they stole my entire supply. And the guys I was working for? They don''t exactly take kindly to that. Especially since lots of us have been getting jacked lately."

    I watch as her face darkens, her eyes clouded with something I can''t quite place. Fear, maybe? Regret?

    "They know where I live, Parker," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "They know my dad. If I try to run, I won''t make it far. These guys? They''re the real deal."

    I sit back, processing what she''s telling me. This isn''t just some schoolyard spat. These people are dangerous, and Felicia is in way over her head.

    "Alright," I say finally, determination settling in. "Then it''s time to shut them down."

    She furrows her brow. "What do you mean?"

    "You''re not going back to these guys. I''ll find out where they are, and once I do, I''ll take ''em down and we''ll call the cops. Let them take care of the rest. Those guys will be behind bars, and they''ll never know you had anything to do with it. They''ll think it was all Spider-Man''s fault.

    She stares at me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine for something¡ªmaybe sincerity, maybe stupidity.

    "You''re gonna fight all those guys alone," she says quietly.

    I nod. "I''m Spider-Man. This is what I do."

    Felicia smirks, but it doesn''t quite reach her eyes. "Alright then, Spider. They usually hang around the docks by 49th and 12th. It''s where I go to meet them when I need to resupply."

    "So, they just hang out there? Like... a secret lair or something?" I ask, trying to envision what kind of place we''re heading into. She rolls her eyes at my attempt to lighten the mood.

    "It''s more like a hangout for street kids. Kids who are worse off than I am, looking for a place to make money or make friends with the wrong kinds of assholes," she explains, her voice dripping with an edge of regret. I can see it in her eyes¡ªhow she must''ve once felt the pull of that life, the allure of belonging to something, even if it''s dangerous. "And it''s not like they just leave the goods out for anyone to find. If you go in there guns blazing¡ª"

    "Oh, I actually don''t use guns," I interject, almost reflexively.

    Felicia pauses, her brow furrowing. I swallow hard, realizing I might have stepped on a landmine with that little comment. She shakes her head, her voice serious. "If you go in there trying to start a fight, I''m sure there''ll be a shootout. There are some good people in there¡ªkids who don''t have anywhere else to go. If you''re actually going to do this, I''m coming with you. We need to get them out."

    I nod, the weight of what she''s saying settling in. "Yeah, okay. So, we get the drugs, beat down the bad guys, and save your friends. Sound good?"

    Felicia''s expression shifts, her tone dropping. "Those guys don''t think they need saving. They''re like me in a way, just trying to survive. For some of them, it''s like a home. They might not want to leave."

    I consider her words, realizing the complexity of the situation. "Then you take care of those kids, get them out, and I''ll handle the ones who want to shoot. Deal?" I extend my hand, a gesture of partnership. "It''ll be a nice change of pace having a sidekick."

    Felicia grips my hand firmly, a hint of a smile breaking through her serious demeanor. "You''re kind of a dork."

    I chuckle, feeling a little lighter. "I like to thinkit''s part of my charm. So, tonight we''ll make our move."

    Felicia nods, her expression sharpening with determination. "Just remember, Peter. It''s not just about the fight. We have to be smart about this."

    "Don''t worry, I got it." I say, shifting to try and ignore my bodying screaming in pain at me. "So, in the meantime...got any board games we can play?"

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Night came quickly, wrapping the world outside in a velvety darkness as I sat in Felicia''s room, the glow of the lamp casting warm light around us. We were perched on opposite sides of her bed, a deck of cards between us. I was attempting to teach her how to play Speed, but the focus was slipping away.

    "It''s really not that hard, you just¡ª"

    "I''m done with this," Felicia cut in, a hint of impatience in her voice. "It''s almost time to go. Shouldn''t you be... you know? Changing into your other half?"

    I glanced at the clock on her bedside table. Time was indeed ticking away. "Yeah, but what about your dad? Won''t he care that we''re sneaking out together in the middle of the night?" I asked, my concern for her safety evident. I could only imagine Aunt May''s reaction if she knew I was out this late, especially with a girl like Felicia.

    "He probably already left for work," she replied, her voice casual as she hopped off the bed and strode toward her closet.

    "Oh? He didn''t say anything to you?" I asked, watching her rifling through the hangers, looking for something.

    "Well, it would be strange if he did," she said, her tone firm, as if she were drawing a line she didn''t want to cross.

    I nodded, sensing that this conversation was over. "Right, well, I''ll just go, uh..." I fumbled for my backpack, which had my suit stuffed inside. "Where''s your¡ª"

    "Down the hall to the right," she answered quickly, her focus still on her closet.

    I stood up and took a moment to appreciate the atmosphere of her room¡ªthe walls adorned with rock band posters, the black curtains drawn tight against the night, and the soft purring of her kittens somewhere in the corner. Despite the impending danger, there was a strange comfort in this moment, a fleeting sense of normalcy amid the chaos that most likely awaited us.

    "Okay, I''ll be back in a sec," I said, trying to sound casual as I moved toward the door. I stepped into the dim hallway, glancing back once to catch Felicia''s eye.

    I padded down the hall, listening for any signs of her dad. The quiet was almost deafening, I found the bathroom door and slipped inside, locking it behind me.

    Once the door clicked shut, I took a deep breath and started to change. The fabric of the suit hugged my skin as I transformed, the familiar rush of power coursing through me. Took me the entirety of Sunday to finish sewing this thing back together after what the Rhino did to it.

    In moments, I was no longer Peter Parker, the awkward high school kid¡ª I was Spider-Man, ready to face whoever and whatever, I could be everything that Peter isn''t.

    As I adjusted the mask over my face, a small part of me wondered what Felicia thought of this transformation. Does she see the hero? Or does she just see me? I pushed that thought aside.

    Emerging back into the hallway, I felt a newfound energy thrumming through me. I walked back to Felicia''s room, as she turned to see me.

    "How do I look?" I grinned, spinning on my heel to show off the full glory of the suit.

    Felicia paused, her eyes widening for a moment before settling into an amused expression. She placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head slightly. "Somehow, immensely more attractive than without the mask. I think it works for you. Now let''s go." With that, she patted my shoulder and sauntered past me, her confidence radiating like the moonlight filtering through her window.

    "What? That was a joke, right? Felicia? Was that a joke? Hey, come on!" I called after her, my cheeks warming beneath the mask. I wasn''t sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.

 Shocking Turn of Events

    "I am not doing that," Felicia says, crossing her arms defiantly, her brow furrowed as she stands her ground.

    "Well, how else are we gonna get there? Taking a cab or the subway would be kind of strange for Spider-Man, don''t you think? I swing, you know? Thwip, thwip." I say, raising my arms dramatically as if shooting webs, a grin plastered under my mask.

    Felicia rolls her eyes, unimpressed. "Then I''ll take a cab. You go and thiwp, or whatever it is you do."

    "It''ll take you forever to get there. Trust me, swinging is way faster. At this point, I''m basically a pro. Don''t worry, we''ll reach their evil lair in like ten minutes," I insist, my excitement bubbling over as I imagine the wind rushing past us, the thrill of the chase just around the corner.

    Felicia groans, her expression wavering between annoyance and reluctant amusement. "Okay, but if you drop me to my death, God help me, Peter Parker, I will haunt you."

    "Sounds fair enough." I chuckle at the idea of her ghost trailing after me for the rest of my life.

    "Make sure you hold tight," she adds, shooting me a playful glare, I raise my eyebrow in confusion.

    "Well, yeah? You''d fall if I didn''t." I say, positioning myself behind her and wrapping my arms securely around her waist.

    Felicia rolls her eyes at me. "You''re an idiot."

    I wasn''t really sure what she was saying, but

    I feel the heat radiating from her body, her heartbeat quickening. "Don''t worry, it''s more fun than you''d think."

    "Okay, okay. Let''s go already." She urges, her voice tinged with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

    With a quick nod, I leap into the night sky, the world falling away beneath us as I shoot a web to the nearest building, launching us into the exhilarating rush of the city.

    As we swing through the air, the city lights blur into a colorful stream beneath us, and I feel Felicia''s laughter vibrating through me, merging with the rush of adrenaline. "This isn''t so bad!" she shouts over the wind, her initial fear melting away.

    "I told you it''d be fun!" I shout back, feeling a surge of pride. As I watched her, something I''d never felt before came over me, I''d never been able to share this part of my life with anyone before, I''d always been too afraid, but with Felicia, she wasn''t in any danger right now.

    In this moment, I felt happy to have someone know my secret.

    The buildings soar past us like sentinels in the night, and I navigate expertly, dodging between them and vaulting over rooftops. The docks come into view, and I can see the faint glow of lights ahead, an ominous reminder of the danger that awaits us.

    "We''re almost there!" I call out, my heart pounding as we descend toward the shadows of the dock.

    As we land on the rooftop overlooking the docks, the city''s lights shimmer in the distance, but down here, it''s all shadows and grime. Dim lamps flicker like dying fireflies outside a rundown warehouse, casting eerie reflections on the wet pavement. Laughter, muffled voices, and the thump of bass bleed out into the night, mixing with the salty breeze from the nearby river. The place buzzes like a hive about to swarm.

    "Okay, let''s stick to the plan," I whisper to Felicia, crouched beside me, her black leather blending perfectly into the night. Her face is set, eyes glinting with a mix of determination and something I can''t quite place. "You get the kids out; I''ll deal with the suppliers."

    Felicia''s gaze locks onto mine. "They''re not just dealers, Spider. These guys the ones you wanna look for are¡ªCarl Jones or Herman Schultz¡ªthey''re dangerous. If you''re not careful, they''ll drop you before you even get close."

    "Carl and Herman. Got it. Sounds like a couple of guys who run an auto shop, not a drug ring," I quip, trying to shake off the tension that''s coiling in my gut. But it''s more than that. The weight of this whole night feels heavier than usual.

    She smirks, but the expression doesn''t reach her eyes. "Just be careful, okay? And don''t¡ª" she hesitates for a second, then forces out a playful tone, "don''t die."

    I smile back, even though she can''t see it under the mask. "That''s the idea."

    We exchange a quick nod before we split up.

    I leap down silently, landing between stacks of rusted shipping crates, moving low and fast. The bass from inside the warehouse vibrates through the steel, syncing with the beat of my heart. I slip toward the entrance, my senses on high alert. The closer I get, the clearer the scene becomes, and man, is it a mess. Neon lights flicker through cracked windows, painting everything in sickly hues of blue and pink. It''s not just a warehouse¡ªit''s a twisted party.

    Inside, the space is filled with smoke, flashing strobe lights, and bodies dancing to the thumping music. It''s like a nightclub mixed with a black-market trading floor. The DJ spins from a makeshift booth at the far end, laser lights slicing through the haze. People sway and laugh, oblivious to the fact they''re standing in the middle of a crime scene. My eyes dart around, picking up details: half-drunk cups discarded on crates, cigarettes flicked onto the floor, and the unmistakable glint of guns hidden under coats or tucked into waistbands.

    This is their "lair"? Really? I''ve seen more organized chaos at a high school dance.

    I stick to the walls, weaving through the crowd. A few familiar faces glance at me, some of them pointing like, Oh hey, Spider-Man!¡ªbut most people are too absorbed in the beat and the buzz to notice I''m crashing their little rave. The smell of sweat and cheap cologne hangs thick in the air, masking something even darker underneath.

    Then I spot it. In the back corner, roped off by a heavy velvet cord, sits the VIP section. Because of course there is. Plush couches, overpriced drinks, and a handful of guys dressed way too nicely for this dump. They lounge with that cocky, too-comfortable posture that only criminals who think they''re untouchable can pull off. Guards hover nearby, probably packing more heat than the DJ''s speakers.

    My eyes land on two men in particular. A slick-looking guy with his hair combed back like he stepped out of a 1940s mob movie, and another who''s got the mustache of your classic kitten petting villain also from a 1940''s mob movie.

    Did I miss the memo or something?

    But I do know that it''s gotta be either of these two guys who are Herman or Carl.

    I size up the room. I count about six guards. If this goes sideways, it''s going to get ugly fast. I have to play it smart. I''m in no condition for a brawl, not with the bruises I''m still nursing. But it''s me or them. Always is.

    Taking a deep breath, I stroll toward them, doing my best to look like I belong here. "Hey!" I call out, loud enough to get their attention. "Pizza guy called, said he got lost. Something about GPS and no streetlights. Full refund though, so, you know... silver lining."

    A few heads turn toward me, and for a split second, it''s silent. Then, one of the guys the one with the mustache¡ªCarl Maybe? I''m guessing¡ªleans forward with a smug grin. "Well, look who it is. Spider-Man. What''s the Menace of New York City want with us tonight?"

    I step closer, lowering my voice. "You know, the usual. Swing in, knock a couple of heads. But hey, let''s skip the boring part. Heard you guys were the ones to talk to if someone wanted to move some serious product. Any of you two happen to be Carl or Herman?"

    Carl''s grin fades, and his eyes flick to the combed back hair guy, who looks more amused than anything, his fingers tapping the armrest like he''s weighing his options.

    Carl stands, sizing me up. "You''ve got a lot of nerve showing up here. You think we''re gonna just have a nice chat? I could end you right here."

    "Yeah, you could try." I shrug, hands up in mock surrender. "But, I mean... where else are you gonna find a guy who can move faster than a getaway car and won''t even need a cut? Heard your shipments keep getting jacked. Doesn''t matter how good your product is if you can''t keep it out of someone else''s hands. But me? I don''t have that problem. Nobody snatches stuff from a guy who can stick to walls."

    Combback snorts, leaning back. "You really think you can play in our league?"

    I nod, keeping my voice low and calm, even though my mind is racing. "I''m already here, aren''t I? You need a guy who can handle things discreetly. What I can do¡ªit''s not just muscle or guns. You want a real edge, you''re looking at it."

    Carl exchanges a glance with Combback. The tension in the room cranks up a notch. Behind them, I spot a few kids hanging near the fringes of the VIP area, wide-eyed, nervous. They''re caught up in something they don''t understand, and it hits me in the gut. I can''t let them be part of this

    ~~~

    Felicia weaves through the pulsating crowd, her sharp eyes darting across the faces lit by neon lights and the occasional flicker of a cigarette. The music throbs in the background, but it''s all just noise to her now. She''s looking for them¡ªkids she knew from before, when the streets were the only place they had, kids who are now caught in the web of this toxic underworld. She spots a few, sitting in a huddle near the back, their faces painted with forced smiles and glazed eyes. It''s all an illusion, and Felicia knows it.

    "Hey, you guys." Her voice is urgent but low as she moves closer, trying not to draw attention. Jackie, a girl with bleached hair and too many piercings to count, is the first to notice her.

    "Felicia?" Jackie squints, her voice a mix of surprise and suspicion. "What are you doing here?"

    "Jackie, I need you to listen to me," Felicia says, her gaze shifting to a couple of others¡ªDamian, Roman, all familiar faces from a past she thought she''d left behind. "All of you. It''s not safe here. Things are about to get ugly. We have to go, now."

    Damian scoffs, leaning against a wall, folding his arms over his chest. "Felicia, you bailed on us. Carl''s been pissed ever since you disappeared. Said you lost some product." His tone is accusing, but it''s the anger of someone who''s hurt, someone who doesn''t understand why she vanished.

    Felicia''s jaw tightens. "Not lost, Damian. Stolen." Her voice is sharp, but she steps closer, softening her tone. "But that doesn''t matter right now. What matters is that this place is about to become ground zero for something nasty, and I don''t want you here when it happens."

    Jackie, eyes glazed and half-aware of what''s going on, giggles, pulling out a small green tablet from her pocket. "Come on, kitty, don''t be so serious. Here¡ªtake this and relax." She tries to hand Felicia the pill, her movements sluggish, uncoordinated.

    Felicia grabs Jackie''s wrist, stopping her. "Did you take this? Is this what you''re on right now?" The disbelief in Felicia''s voice is palpable as she stares at the pill in Jackie''s hand.

    Damian steps forward, concern breaking through his tough fa?ade. "Felicia, what''s going on?" His voice is quieter now, softer. "You know you can tell me anything."

    Felicia bites her lip, hesitating for just a moment. "Look," she says, locking eyes with him, the urgency clear. "Something really bad is about to happen here, Damian. I don''t want any of you caught up in it. You need to get out. Take Jackie, get her clear of that crap, and get out of here. Now."

    Damian''s eyes flick from Felicia to Jackie, who''s staring at her hand like it''s some kind of magic trick, her pupils dilated. His expression hardens, a mix of worry and resolve. "Roman!" he calls out, snapping his drunk friend to attention.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Roman stumbles over, a dopey smile plastered on his face. "Fel¡ªhic¡ªFelicia, you''re back. We missed you, girl. You gotta try this new Goblin stuff, it''s¡ªhic¡ªit''s amazing. Seriously." He goes in for a hug, but Felicia sidesteps him, her patience wearing thin.

    Damian steps in, prying the drink from Roman''s hand. "Alright, that''s enough. No more drinks for you," he says firmly, ignoring Roman''s groggy protests. "We''re heading out. Jackie, Roman, we''re going back to my place. It''s quieter there." He glances at Felicia.

    Jackie mumbles something incoherent, still staring at her hand, but she doesn''t resist as Damian gently guides her away from the chaotic scene.

    Felicia lets out a breath she didn''t realize she was holding. "Thanks, Damian, but don''t go to your place head over to Mac''s old place. Nobody''s using it since he got himself locked up. You can all lay low there until this blows over."

    "Okay, but what about you?" Damian asks, his brow furrowing as he glances back at her.

    Felicia shakes her head. "Don''t worry about me." Her voice is firm, but there''s a flicker of something in her eyes¡ªfear, maybe? Regret? She doesn''t let it linger.

    ~~~

    The tension in the room is thicker than Manhattan traffic. The dealers are giving each other that look ¡ª the one that says they''re about three seconds away from deciding whether to shoot me or let me keep breathing. I need to play this smart, buy Felicia a little more time.

    "I''ve got more muscle than all your best guys combined," I say, lowering my voice to sound a little more menacing, trying to channel my inner Felicia Hardy-level confidence. "But I''m gonna need more than just a handshake to make this deal work. You want the big leagues? I can get you there."

    The dealer across from me, the Combback guy with a suit that screams "I sell drugs but also might run a hedge fund," raises an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

    I glance around the room, pretending like I''m thinking about it, even though I know exactly what I''m doing. "I''m only making this deal with Herman or Carl. If it''s not them, I''m walking. You don''t waste Spider-Man''s time with middle management."

    The guy leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Alright, kid. Word on the street is that Spider-Man''s been making waves. You got power behind that skinny frame of yours. Having you move our product? Yeah, that could be good for business. I''ve read online about you, you''ve been causing a little havoc of your own already haven''t you?"

    Thanks, JJJ. Leave it to Jonah to make it easier for me to get a foot in with every criminal in the city. "Y-Yeah, well, the cops haven''t even come close to catching me yet. I''m just trying to step up my game."

    That''s when another voice cuts in¡ªa gruff guy with scars and an attitude problem. "Kid''s lying, Herman. He took out my buddy Mac last week. Broke his suit, handed him over to the cops before we could use the kid as leverage."

    Mac Gargan? Oh, great. Scorpion. That whole mess was about leverage? Is that why he went after Harry? But why would he need him for leverage? Could it have been random? Or...

    I roll with it. "That was Mac''s own fault. I warned him not to take my mark, and he didn''t listen. You break my rules, you pay the price."

    Herman, the guy the goon so kindly identified, finally leans forward with a greasy smile. "Took down Mac, huh? Maybe you are the real deal. Name''s Herman, like the loudmouth already spilled. That over there is Carl." He nods to a the burly man keeping his head low.

    So I guessed right? Sweet.

    "So, Spider," Herman says, "what''s this big game-changer you''ve got for us?"

    I reach into my pocket and pull out the little gadget I''d been tinkering with¡ªa small, makeshift EMP. "This? This baby knocks out any security systems within a hundred-yard radius. Cops won''t even know what hit ''em. You want to move your product without getting hassled? This is your golden ticket."

    Herman eyes the device with suspicion, weighing his options. "And what''s in it for you?"

    I give him my best smirk, hoping I look more confident than I feel. "Let''s just say, I like a little chaos." Did that sound cool? Probably not. "You give me a taste of your operation, and I''ll make sure your runs are smooth from here on out."

    Behind me, I catch a glimpse of Felicia through the haze of cigarette smoke and flashing lights. She''s coaxing some of the kids away, one by one, they slip through the crowd, nervous but trusting her lead. Nice job, Spider-Girl. I really need to work on that sidekick name.

    But I can''t lose focus now. Herman''s watching me, calculating. Finally, he grins, standing up. "Alright, Spider. You''re coming with me."

    I follow him through a hidden door in the back of the VIP lounge that leads into a dimly lit corridor.

    The smell hits me first¡ªa mixture of sweat, chemicals, and that familiar sharp scent of something toxic. When the hallway opens up, I see the source: a massive sweatshop operation, people hunched over tables, packing up small green pills into plastic bags. It''s a scene straight out of a nightmare.

    "What... is that?" I ask, keeping my voice steady. Felicia told me about these pills, but seeing them in bulk like this? It''s another level.

    Herman smirks, clearly proud of the operation. "We don''t get paid to ask questions, kid. Just to move the product. But I can tell you this¡ªit ain''t like anything else on the streets. Enhances senses, boosts strength, all that good stuff. Makes people feel like gods, but trust me, you don''t wanna touch it yourself. Nasty side effects. And also my mama would kill me if I ever touched a drug."

    I watch as the workers load the bags into boxes marked with names of legitimate companies. Some of them are even food brands I recognize from the bodega down the street. This operation... it''s massive. How deep does this go? And who''s the one pulling the strings?

    Herman turns back to me, flashing that greasy grin again. "So, Spider, what do you think? Ready to run with the big dogs?"

    Before I can respond, the shrill sound of sirens cuts through the air, blaring in the distance. The party outside erupts into chaos. I can hear people shouting, the music cutting off suddenly, and hear the crowd scrambling for the exits.

    Herman''s expression turns dark, the calm gone in an instant. "What is this, Spider?!" He shoves me back, eyes blazing with fury. "You set us up, didn''t you?!"

    His men react immediately, weapons drawn, and before I can even get a word in, they''ve got their guns trained on me.

    I hold up my hands. "Okay, so, would you guys still let me in if I told you I totally set you up, and you all fell for it because you''re a bunch of morons?"

    Not even a smirk? Tough crowd.

    "Kill him!" Herman barks, shoving his men forward as he bolts for the exit.

    "You know, I''m starting to think you guys just don''t appreciate my humor!" I shout after Herman, ducking just as a barrage of bullets whizzes past me. My ribs scream in protest, reminding me just how banged up I am. Okay, great, bullets. That''s fine. Not like my body''s a mess or anything.

    I dodge to the side, barely avoiding another spray of gunfire. Man, that one almost caught me. I flip up onto the ceiling, but it takes way more effort than usual. My muscles burn, and my right shoulder feels like it''s been lit on fire. Come on, Pete. You''ve got this. Just a few guys with guns... and a body that''s half-broken. Totally manageable.

    I shoot a web at two guys, pulling them off balance and sticking them to the far wall. The movement sends a sharp pain shooting down my side. Yep, that''s a cracked rib. Awesome.

    I sense another one coming at me from behind, but I''m a split second slower than I''d like to be. I twist, ignoring the stabbing pain in my leg, and swing my foot out, knocking the guy to the floor. He''s out cold, but that''s gonna hurt tomorrow¡ªassuming I''m still standing by then.

    Another guy lunges at me, his fist flying toward my face. I dodge, but not as smoothly as usual. My chest tightens with every breath, and it''s getting harder to ignore the ache radiating through my entire body. Focus. Just focus.

    I web his hands to his chest and toss him aside. My arm protests with every movement, a dull, pulsing throb in my shoulder now. Stay sharp, Pete. Can''t let ''em see you''re hurting.

    "Come on, fellas, this is getting embarrassing," I say, trying to keep my voice light despite the growing tightness in my throat. I flip over another wave of bullets, my landing sloppy and sending a jolt through my knees. Ugh, that one''s gonna bruise.

    "You guys can''t be this bad at your jobs, right?" I quip, even though each move takes more out of me than I''m willing to admit. Just gotta keep moving. Keep them distracted. Don''t let them see how much it''s killing me to stay on my feet.

    I land with a stumble, just managing to keep myself upright. The pain radiates from my ribs to my legs, every breath feeling like I''ve inhaled shards of glass. Come on, Pete. You''ve been through worse. You can handle a bunch of low-level thugs. Just... ignore the fact that your body''s screaming at you to take a nap.

    A few more goons rush in, guns raised, but I''m already moving¡ªor at least trying to. I duck, the motion slower than I''d like, and send a web-line toward the ceiling to yank myself up. Not as smooth as I''d like but¡ªouch¡ªgotta make it work. The yank pulls at my sore shoulder, but I grit my teeth and swing down, knocking one of the thugs out cold with a solid kick to the chest. I land awkwardly, my knee buckling slightly under the impact.

    "Really starting to miss my bed right now," I mutter under my breath as I web two more guys to the floor, their guns clattering uselessly out of reach. One of them struggles, trying to break free, but I yank him up with another web and slam him into his buddy. Alright, Spider-sense, I need you to keep me from getting shot here, because everything else is a mess.

    Another thug charges at me from the side. I twist to dodge, but my ribs protest with a sharp stab of pain, slowing me down. His punch grazes my jaw, knocking me off balance. Wow, okay, now my head''s spinning. Great. I stagger, but quickly fire off another web, pulling the guy''s legs out from under him before I swing him into a nearby table. He''s out.

    Okay, I''ve definitely taken too many hits. This is fine. I take a quick glance around. The room is finally starting to clear. The workers are gone, slipping out one by one as the chaos escalated. Smart move. I web up the last of the thugs to a support beam, his struggles weak and useless.

    I let out a shaky breath. No time to rest, though. Sirens blare in the distance, growing louder by the second. The cavalry''s here.

    Before I can fully catch my breath, the door bursts open, and the NYPD storms in, weapons drawn. "Freeze!" one of the officers shouts, guns pointed directly at me. It was Captain Stacy.

    Gwen''s, dad and also not my biggest fan.

    I raise my hands, wincing at the sharp pull in my shoulder. Not how I wanted to end this night. "Guys, relax! I''m on your side! I''m the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, remember? ''Friendly'' is literally in the name."

    Captain Stacy doesn''t seem convinced, he and his men still have their weapons still trained on me. "Yeah? That''s not what the paper says," Captain Stacy snaps. "And I''ve seen your work too, I know you helped take down those two freaks, but how do I know you aren''t just like them?"

    I roll my eyes, again, a hand of applause for J Jonah, thanks buddy.  "Okay, well, I called you, genius. Why would I call the cops on myself? Think about it. Logic."

    Before he can respond, the room rumbles, and the sound of heavy boots echoes off the walls. "Oh, you''re in trouble now, Spider," a deep voice growls from behind the cops.

    The officers part, and in steps a tall, muscular guy wearing a yellow padded suit, with... gauntlets? Big metal gauntlets on each arm. The air hums around him, a low buzzing like a power tool revving up. Okay, this doesn''t look good.

    "See that employer of ours made sure we had something to protect our product, Spider-Man, you can call me the Shocker.." The voice who I recognize to be Herman says with a grin, lifting his hands. Before I can even react, he slams his gauntlets together, and a concussive blast erupts from his gloves, sending Captain Stacy and rest ofthe police guys flying across the room like ragdolls.

    "Captain!" I shout, barely managing to leap out of the way, but even that sends another jolt of pain through my ribs. Okay, I was not ready for that.

    I stare at him for a beat. "The Shocker? Dude, that''s your big villain name? Did you lose a bet or something?" I can''t help it; the name''s too good. "You know there''s a website for better names, right? Like, I dunno, ''The Punch-Quake'' or maybe ''Doctor Zappy Fists''? No? Not feeling it?"

    His grin drops into a scowl, and suddenly he slams his gauntlets together. KRAK-KOOM! A shockwave blasts out from his hands, and I barely manage to dive behind a stack of boxes before the whole room trembles like an earthquake just hit.

    Okay, note to self: don''t get hit by that. I peek out just in time to see him fire off another shockwave, tearing through the room. Crates explode, and the walls rattle as the energy surges through everything in its path. Awesome.

    I fire a web at his hands, trying to jam the gauntlets, but the shockwave rips right through the webbing like it''s nothing. "Oh come on! You''re just making this harder for both of us!" I yell, flipping backward just as another shockwave barrels toward me.

    "What''s wrong, Spidey?" Shocker taunts, his voice buzzing like the energy humming off his gloves. "That suit of yours ain''t shockproof, is it?"

    "You know, this would be way more impressive if you didn''t look like a rejected Power Ranger!" I shout back, darting behind a pillar. Gotta think, gotta think.

    Another blast. I lunge out of the way, but pain surges through my ribs, making my vision blur. I''m losing speed, and I can feel it. I''m not gonna last long if this keeps up.

    Shocker''s getting cocky, walking toward me with those gauntlets buzzing. "Face it, Spider-Man! You''re outta juice!"

    "Funny, coming from a guy who wears battery-powered oven mitts!" I fire a web at the ceiling, swinging myself up as another shockwave obliterates the floor where I was standing. I land on a catwalk, but I''m still woozy, each breath sending a wave of fire through my chest.

    I glance around, my mind racing. I need to take those gauntlets out of the equation, but they''re too powerful for my webs to jam. What else can I use? My eyes land on the thick metal support beams running along the ceiling.

    That''ll do.

    I leap down, firing webs to yank a metal beam loose from the ceiling. Shocker''s eyes widen, but before he can react, I swing it directly at him. It crashes into his arms, throwing him off balance, but he manages to stay upright.

    "Is that the best you''ve got, Spider-Man?!" he yells, shaking off the hit.

    "Actually, no. But thanks for asking!" I leap behind another crate, quickly webbing it to the ground. I glance up at the now-bent beam hanging precariously above. This is gonna have to be fast.

    I jump up again, distracting him with a web to his shoulder. "Hey, Herman! Quick question: how do those gloves even work? You know, in case I need to buy some for my next villain costume?"

    "Shut up!" Shocker growls, blasting the web away, but he''s too focused on me now.

    "Seriously, do they come in different sizes? Or are you stuck with the whole ''electro-Michael-Jackson'' look forever?" I keep dodging, making sure to stay just out of range.

    Finally, when he steps directly under the dangling beam, I pull the trigger. With a flick of my wrist, I yank down the web holding the beam up, and it crashes down, pinning Shocker''s gauntlets against the floor.

    "What the¡ª?!" he shouts, trying to fire off another shockwave, but the beam holds him in place. The gauntlets spark, but the weight is too much.

    "Don''t look so shocked," I say, grinning as I approach. "Sorry, couldn''t resist."

    Shocker struggles, but the beam''s too heavy, and with his gauntlets pinned, he''s out of options. I quickly web him to the ground, making sure to wrap the webbing extra tight around his arms.

    "That was fun, Herman," I say, dropping to one knee because ow, everything hurts. "But next time, maybe invest in some shockproof restraints.

    Captain Stacy finally manages to stagger back to his feet, rubbing his heads like he just woke up from the world''s worst nap.

    "Hey, by the way," I say, waving casually, "there''s this guy named Carl Jones. Real piece of work. Helped run this whole shady operation."

    "Yeah? Well, why don''t we finish talking about this down at the station. If you really wanna help, you can start with that. And ending your vigilantism." He says to me, his voice stern.

    "Look, if it wasn''t for me that Shocker guy would''ve killed all of you, so I think that about covers who''s side I''m on." I tell him, and I can see that he knows I''m right. "I just wanna do the right thing."

    "Running around in a mask pretending like you care about the law isn''t the right thing. I can see you wanna help, but this isn''t right." He says, and I sigh.

    "Yeah, well letting you guys lock me up isn''t going to help anyone either." I tell him, making a mental note of where I can escape from.

    The other officers glance at each other like they''re deciding if I''m pulling their leg, then turn back to me.

    "Why shouldn''t we arrest you right now?" Captain Stacy asks, squinting like he''s ready to play bad cop.

    I pause, pretending to think it over. "It''s a free country?" I offer, webbing the nearest wall. "But you''d have to catch me first! Also, friendly advice¡ªdon''t believe everything you read on the internet!"

    With that, I fling myself out the door, swinging up toward the roof as fast as my aching muscles will allow.

    By the time I land, I''m seriously considering collapsing face-first onto the roof. My ribs feel like they''re on fire, my arms are noodles, and let''s not even talk about my head, which is currently having its own personal drum solo.

    I dig into my pocket, pulling out my phone¡ªonly to see the screen is absolutely obliterated. "Great," I mutter. "This is why I don''t take my phone on Spidey trips."

    I press the power button, half-expecting it to just laugh at me, but¡ªmiracle of miracles¡ªit flickers to life. The screen looks like a kaleidoscope of cracks, but it''s barely functional. I somehow manage to text Felicia, something like, *Meet me at the rooftop. PLS hurry.*

    I glance at the city lights below, a soft breeze hitting my face, trying to ignore the fact that my entire body is screaming at me. Just a few more minutes, Peter, then it''s pizza and sleep. Or sleep and then pizza. Yeah, sleep first.

    Felicia better hurry, or I''m napping right here on this roof.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    A few minutes pass, and I''m still sprawled out on the rooftop, staring up at the stars like they might have the answers to why my life is a never-ending series of beatdowns. Finally, I hear footsteps, soft and quick.

    "You look like you had a lot of fun," Felicia''s voice cuts through the quiet, sounding way too chipper for someone who didn''t get tossed around by a human shockwave machine.

    "Yeah," I groan, still lying flat on my back, "something like that. Oh, by the way, you could''ve mentioned your buddy Herman was packing an evil villain suit with shockwave technology. Would''ve been nice to know before I got turned into a pancake."

    She crouches down next to me, smirking. "Didn''t even know that. But hey, look on the bright side¡ªwe took down a drug ring. On a Monday, no less. That''s gotta count for something, right? Nice work, Spider-Man."

    "Yay, teamwork," I mumble, trying to sit up but immediately regretting it as pain shoots through my ribs. I flop back down. "You know, I think I''d prefer the most exciting thing in my day to be an Algebra test."

    Felicia snorts. "You''re a loser."

    I try to straighten up, my body protesting with every movement. "Yeah, well... I''m a loser who survived a shockwave beatdown. So, you ready to get back home, or are we gonna hang around here all night?"

    Felicia hesitates for a second, her usual cool exterior slipping just a bit. "Hey, before we go... I just wanted to say... thanks." She steps closer, pulling me into a hug. It''s a nice gesture, really, but given that my entire body feels like it''s been put through a blender, it''s a little hard to fully appreciate. "You saved me. And my dad. I don''t know what I would''ve done without you."

    I blink, a little taken aback by the sincerity in her voice. "Don''t mention it. You know... it''s kinda what heroes do."

    For the first time, Felicia gives me a genuine smile¡ªnot the teasing, playful smirk she usually throws around, but something real. It''s... nice.

    "Alright then, Spider-Boy," she says, stepping back. "Let''s go home."

    I nod, wincing slightly as I prepare to web-swing back. "Yeah... home sounds good right about now."

    As we launch into the sky, I realize that maybe, just maybe, things aren''t so bad. Sure, I''m beat up, exhausted, and failing History¡ªbut at least for once I''ve found someone to watch Spider-Man''s back.

    That''s something, right?

 A Day in the Life

    THERE are a lot of thoughts that run through your mind when your head''s shoved into a toilet. Like, a lot.

    First, yeah, it''s absolutely disgusting.

    Second, it''s unsanitary¡ªI mean, no amount of mutant spider powers can make this less gross.

    And third, it''s just plain wrong. But as the water floods my nose and mouth, the only thing I can really think about is how I''m going to explain to Mr. Baldwin why I''m late to his class for the third time this week. And again, how this is Flash Thompson''s fault.

    Flash yanks my head back, his laugh echoing in the empty bathroom. "Parker, you some kinda fish or something? ''Cause you''re starting to look way too at home down there, man." His cronies laugh behind him, like it''s the funniest thing they''ve ever seen.

    "Yeah, Flash," I mumble, shaking water out of my hair. "You know me¡ªjust can''t get enough of the school plumbing experience."

    Before I can catch my breath, Flash forces my head back into the toilet. The water rushes in again, cold and foul, and I''m really starting to wonder if this counts as my cardio for the day.

    I really hope I''m not missing anything important in class.

    After what feels like an eternity of dunking my head like some kind of cruel carnival game, Flash finally decides he''s had enough. He lets go of me but not before whipping out his phone, capturing the moment I''m still dripping wet and gasping for air.

    "Hey, Charlie? Think they''ll let me put this one in the yearbook?" Flash grins, proudly showing off the picture.

    Charlie glances at the photo, then at me, his face scrunching up as if he''s debating it. "I don''t know, man. He looks so pathetic, it''s starting to make me feel bad." He smirks before pulling out his own phone, aiming it at me. "C''mon, Parker. Give us a smile this time."

    Flash stands behind him, motioning for me to play along with that smug look I''ve seen too many times. If I don''t, I know I''m in for it later. So, I smile. Not one of my best, but it''ll do. Charlie snaps the picture, and both of them laugh like they''ve just won the comedy jackpot before they saunter out, leaving me alone in the bathroom.

    I could''ve put their heads in that toilet. That thought lingers as I dry off. If I weren''t, you know, trying to live by that "great responsibility" thing, they''d be the ones swimming right now. But, nope¡ªthis is how Peter Parker handles it. Spider-Man gets to be the hero. Peter Parker gets dunked like a teabag.

    After fixing myself up as much as possible, I head to my last class. The moment I step through the door, all eyes are on me, as if they can smell the chlorine-like stench from across the room.

    "Mr. Parker," Mr. Baldwin''s voice cuts through the room. "How nice of you to finally join us."

    A few giggles from the back. Gwen shoots me a sympathetic smile from across the room. Isn''t that nice?

    "Sorry, I was... kinda held up," I mutter, scratching the back of my head. More like clogged up.

    "Of course you were," Mr. Baldwin says, clearly unimpressed, gesturing to my seat. I slink over, the weight of Flash''s bathroom assault still clinging to me like the dampness in my hair.

    I take my seat, trying to focus on anything but the embarrassment still simmering in my gut. A light tap on my shoulder pulls me out of my misery. It''s Liz, handing me a crumpled note.

    I carefully unfold it to read:

    Hey Pete, is everything okay? - Gwen.

    I glance back at her, and she''s giving me this look¡ªone I can only describe as pity. It stings.

    I grab a pen and quickly scribble:

    Yeah, I''m okay, Gwen. Thanks for asking. - Pete.

    After making sure Mr. Baldwin''s distracted, I pass the note back to Liz, who hands it off to Gwen.

    A few minutes later, something hits the back of my head. I turn around, startled, only to see Gwen stifling a laugh. She gestures toward the note on the floor, and I pick it up.

    Mr. Octavius''s presentation is tonight at the gym. You wanna go? - Gwen.

    Is she asking me to hang out? I start overthinking it, my brain racing. That karaoke night... well, that was more of a "Hey, let''s trap Peter in a weird situation with Harry" thing. This feels different.

    I hurriedly scribble:

    Are your other friends not able to go? - Pete.

    Seconds later, her reply comes back:

    They are. Flash, Liz, Charlie, and Sally. Even Harry. - Gwen.

    I freeze for a second. Harry. We haven''t spoken since that Friday... and it''s been more than a week now. He''s ignoring my texts, avoiding me in the hallways, like I don''t even exist. Can''t really blame him. I haven''t exactly been the best friend lately.

    I write back:

    Sure, I''d love to go. - Pete.

    Wait. Love? Is that too much? She''ll get it, right? I pass the note to Liz, but before I can hand it over¡ª

    "Mr. Parker!" Mr. Baldwin''s voice slices through the room, freezing me in place. He strides over and snatches the crumpled note from my hand.

    He reads it aloud with exaggerated slowness. "Passing notes in class isn''t going to help you pass the quarter, Mr. Parker. I suggest you plan fewer dates and more tutoring sessions."

    Cue the laughter. Half the class erupts, and I feel my face heat up like a furnace. I shrink into my seat, embarrassed beyond belief.

    "Y-Yes, sir," I mutter, resisting the urge to disappear under my desk. At least he didn''t drag Gwen into it. One of us should make it through this day without getting dunked in water¡ªor humiliation.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The rest of class drags on, feeling painfully normal, until the final bell finally rings. Mr. Baldwin reminds us that this Thursday is the semester final, a looming specter I''ve been studying for like my life depends on it, but I still feel like I might crash and burn.

    "Mr. Parker," Mr. Baldwin calls, catching me off guard. "What gave General Leonidas the advantage in battle?"

    "Uh... his awesome... name?" I stammer, hoping for some kind of miracle.

    "The semester final is this week, Mr. Parker. No bell can save you from that," he replies, turning his attention back to his computer like I''m just another passing thought.

    I sling my bag over my shoulder, mumbling a quick, "yes, sir," and head for the door when I feel a tap on my shoulder. It''s Gwen.

    "It was his environment," she says, a glint of enthusiasm in her eyes. "General Leonidas used his environment to his advantage. His enemies couldn''t escape."

    "You must feel like I''m wasting your time. All this tutoring and I''m probably still going to fail," I admit, half-serious.

    She playfully punches my shoulder. "What did you say, Pete? Once you get the formula down, everything else will start to click. It''s just about cracking that first layer. Sound about right? I mean thanks to you I feel like I learned way more than I ever have with Mr. Harrington."

    Her smile is infectious, and I can''t help but blush a little. "Reall¡ª"

    "Puny Parker! Puny Puny Parker!"

    I grimace, because it seems like Flash has a sixth sense for the worst possible moments to show up.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    He strolls up, flanked by Liz, Charlie, and Sally, a triumphant grin plastered on his face.

    "Why do you keep hanging around, Gwen? Dude, don''t you see you''re bothering her?" Flash remarks, but Gwen shoots him a stern look.

    "I''m the one who came up to him, Flash. And why are you being so rude right now? Peter never did anything to you," she fires back, and I feel a strange rush of gratitude.

    "Sorry, Gwen. That''s just how me and Peter joke. Isn''t that right, Peter?" He grabs my neck in a playful hold and gives me a noogie. "Right, Parker?"

    "Y-Yeah, Gwen. Don''t worry. It''s just how we... joke," I manage to say, trying to maintain some dignity while Flash is practically choking me.

    "Peter''s got a wicked sense of humor, and we just love hanging out with him," Charlie adds, joining in on the fun and lifting my feet off the ground as Flash still has me in a grip.

    "Petey''s got a sense of humor?" Liz chuckles, giving me an exaggerated look. "Since when? The guy always looks so stressed. No offense."

    None taken?

    "Guys, let him down," Gwen insists, her voice firm as she senses my discomfort. "And don''t be so rough. I don''t think Peter really likes those kinds of jokes."

    No, Gwen. I really don''t.

    Flash releases me with a grin, "Nah, don''t worry. Parker''s an animal." He elbows me playfully, but it''s just a bit too hard.

    "Peter, are you coming with us tonight to the show?" Gwen asks, her warm smile returning. "Thanks to Mr. Baldwin, I never got to hear your answer."

    "Y-Yeah, I''d lo¡ªI wouldn''t mind," I say sheepishly, wishing I sounded cooler than I feel.

    "What? Gwen? Why would you invite him? Isn''t this supposed to be a... friends-only kind of thing?" Sally chimes in, giving me a look that could melt steel.

    "Well, technically, it''s a school thing. So, everyone''s invited," Gwen shoots back, looking at me with another encouraging smile. "But it''s up to him if he sits with us or not."

    Yes. Yes. And yes.

    "Yea¡ª"

    "Aw, but Parker can''t tonight," Flash interrupts, cutting me off. "He''s got that thing, don''t you, Parker?"

    I stare at him, brow furrowed. "Huh?"

    "You know. That, thing," he says, shooting me a look that''s far too familiar.

    "I, uh... yeah, that thing. Sorry, Gwen, I''d like to go but... I can''t," I mumble, feeling the weight of my secret identity hang over me like a cloud.

    Gwen''s smile falters, but she recovers quickly. "That''s alright, Pete. But if you change your mind," she says, pulling out her pen and opening my notebook to write something down. "Just text me."

    I catch a glimpse of what she''s written¡ªher number. My cheeks flush, and I pray to God nobody notices. "Oh... Uh... yeah!" Too eager. "Yeah... I will, thanks."

    "See you around, Pete." She gives me a final, dazzling smile before she''s swept away by her friends. Flash, of course, can''t resist slapping the notebook out of my hands and flipping me off as he hurries to catch up with them.

    But I barely even register it. All I can think about is her number.

    "That was... something," Felicia says, striding toward me as she casts a quick glance at the retreating figures of Gwen and her friends. "So, did you finally ask that chick out or what?"

    "Huh?!" My cheeks burn with embarrassment. "What are you talking about? Gwen? She''s just a friend¡ªmore like an acquaintance these days, really. But no! No, I didn''t ask her out. And I''m definitely not planning on it."

    Felicia raises an eyebrow, a sly smirk playing on her lips. "You really are terrible at keeping secrets, you know. It''s a wonder nobody else has figured out your little side job."

    I roll my eyes, the familiar irritation bubbling up. "Yeah, okay. Did you need something? You haven''t spoken to me since last week when... you know." I gesture vaguely, reminding her of the chaos that unfolded.

    "Yeah, sorry about that," she says, her voice dropping slightly. "I''ve been busy dealing with the aftermath of all that. Those kids¡ªthe ones I helped get out of there¡ªdon''t really have anywhere else to go. They''ve all been holed up, and I''ve been trying to help them out as much as I can, but without that... job... I''ve been struggling myself." There''s a hint of vulnerability in her voice that I hadn''t expected.

    I pause, the gears in my mind turning. "Hey, I know! Why don''t you come work for my Aunt at her place? Like, for real this time. She''ll be back sometime this week. I''ll talk to her, and I''m sure she wouldn''t mind setting you up with a job. I know she could use the extra hands."

    Felicia narrows her eyes, skepticism etched on her face. "What would I know about working in a restaurant? I can''t cook or anything."

    I smile, trying to lighten the mood. "There are plenty of other things you can do. It''s not all about cooking, you know."

    She crosses her arms, her tone defensive. "What, so you want me to be some kind of waitress? Or wash your dishes?"

    "Look, I mean, a job''s a job. Especially one that doesn''t involve stealing from people," I say, pushing open the door to the outside, where the late afternoon sun bathes everything in a warm glow. She follows me, and I can feel the tension between us lingering.

    "Why would you do that for me?" she asks, her brow furrowing. "I mean, you already helped me with that other thing. We''re supposed to be even now."

    I hesitate, searching for the right words. "What''s so complicated about it? I see that you need help, and I know a way I can provide it. It''s simple."

    "And you just expect me to believe that you get nothing out of it, Parker? What do you really want?" Her accusation stings, and I can feel my frustration rising.

    "Believe what you want," I reply, forcing my voice to stay steady. "I''m just offering you a way to make money. It doesn''t have to be a big thing."

    Before she can respond, the doors swing open beside us, and my heart sinks as I spot Harry stepping out of the gates. He looks at us for a moment, and a knot forms in my stomach.

    "Harry, wait," I call, reaching for his arm, but surprisingly, he doesn''t pull away. I can feel the weight of our past mistakes hovering in the air between us.

    "What, Peter?" His voice is flat, but there''s something in his eyes¡ªhurt, confusion.

    "I... I just want to talk," I tell him, desperately hoping that this time we can finally put our friendship back on track. "Please."

    Felicia scoffs, breaking the tension. "Let''s finish this talk another time, Parker." She heads off, leaving me alone with Harry, and I watch her go, feeling a mix of relief and regret.

    "Okay, man. Go ahead," Harry says, his tone softening just a fraction, but his posture is still guarded.

    So I take a breath and dive in, pouring out everything. I explain what happened that night¡ªthe truth about Felicia and how it was never what it seemed. I stress that there will never be anything between us, that she only needed to talk to me about my Aunt''s restaurant, which might actually be the case going forward. I also apologize for not coming to see him after what happened with Mac Gargan.

    As I speak, I watch Harry''s expression¡ªhis face is a mask, but I know him well enough to see the subtle shifts. The tension in his shoulders, the way he clenches his jaw. I feel the familiar guilt creeping in, knotting my stomach tighter. This is my fault; it always comes back to me. I was supposed to be there for him, to have his back, and yet here we are, standing on the edge of a chasm, the distance between us feeling insurmountable.

    The silence stretches between us, heavy and thick, and I can''t tell if he''s processing what I''ve said or just shutting me out completely. Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice steady but low. "I get it, man. I knew you''d never do anything like that, but still, you''ve been acting so off lately. Maybe I''ve been pretending not to notice for a while now¡ªthe bruises you think nobody sees, the constant disappearing acts, all the excuses. I guess it just finally got to me."

    I look down, shame creeping in like a shadow. "I¡ªI''m sorry, Harry. I really am. I know I''ve been a little... off lately. But no matter what, I''m your friend." I want to promise him that I''ll change, that everything can go back to the way it was before¡ªbefore Spider-Man, before Uncle Ben. "I love you, man. I... I don''t want to lose my best friend."

    Harry lets out a deep sigh, a sound filled with understanding and a hint of frustration. Then he pulls me into a hug, the warmth of his embrace breaking through the walls I''ve built. "You make it really hard to stay annoyed at you, man. I love you too, dude. You''re like a brother to me." He pulls back, looking me in the eye. "You always have been."

    A smile breaks through my worry, even though I can still feel that lingering distance between us¡ªa chasm filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. But at least we''ve crossed a bridge today, and I''m grateful for that. "I feel the same way. Always will."

    As we stand there, the moment is punctuated by the sound of a long limousine pulling up to the side of the school. Harry glances over, his expression shifting slightly. "That''s my ride," he says, and for a second, I see the reluctance in his eyes, the hesitance of someone caught between two worlds.

    He looks back at me, as if considering something. "Would you maybe want to... come over and hang out for a bit?" His words hang in the air, a lifeline thrown into the turbulent waters of our friendship. The weight of my responsibility as Spider-Man hits me, but it''s only for a moment. Because as important as Spider-Man''s work is, so is being there for the people that I want to protect, to share these small moments of connection amid the chaos.

    "Yeah, man. Let''s do it."

    As we start to walk toward the limo, I can''t help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe this is what I need¡ªa chance to reconnect, to step away from the burdens of the mask and just be Peter for a while. For too long, I''ve let the weight of my dual life overshadow the friendships that matter most.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    As we step into Harry''s sprawling mansion, the familiar scent of leather and polish envelops me like a warm blanket. I haven''t been here in ages, but it feels oddly comforting, like slipping into a favorite old hoodie. "Home sweet home," Harry quips, leading me through the grand foyer adorned with family portraits that seem to watch us with a mix of pride and scrutiny.

    "So, what''s on the menu for tonight?" I ask, trying to shake off the remnants of the tense conversation we just had.

    "Eddie''s Pizza," he replies with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Pineapple Pepperoni, extra cheese."

    I laugh, shaking my head. "You really do have the worst taste in pizza, Harry."

    He nudges me playfully. "Hey, it''s the best pizza. Besides, it''s our pizza."

    With a quick phone call, Harry places the order, and we sprawl on the massive sectional couch in his game room. The walls are lined with shelves crammed full of video games and movie memorabilia¡ªeverything from classic consoles to the latest releases. We pull out the latest online game and boot it up, diving headfirst into a world where nothing matters but pixelated scores and epic victories.

    As we battle it out on-screen, laughter erupts between us. "You''re going down again, Parker. All these years and you still can''t admit who''s the best." Harry taunts, his voice rising in a mock-serious tone as his avatar performs a ridiculous dance move after scoring a hit.

    "Give me a break I haven''t played in forever, besides this newer version is totally different than the last one we played." I shoot back, already plotting my next move. "I think it''s time I pull out the classic Parker special."

    He groans dramatically. "Oh, please. Besides the terrible name that move is as effective as your social skills."

    Before I can retort, the doorbell rings, and I jump up to answer it. As I open the door, the aroma of hot pizza wafts in, and I grin, clutching the warm box like it''s a trophy. "Victory is ours!" I declare, triumphantly presenting our feast.

    We dig in, the cheesy goodness eliciting satisfied murmurs. Between mouthfuls of pizza, we reminisce about our childhood antics¡ªthose lazy summer afternoons spent riding bikes or plotting elaborate pranks on unsuspecting teachers. Each story is a thread, weaving us closer together, reinforcing the bond we share through the years.

    "You mean you never had a crush on her? Not once, Pete? Come on, be for real." Harry says, taking a bite of his Pizza.

    "Mary Jane was your thing man, not mine. Besides I always..." I trail off and Harry grins at me.

    "Yeah, yeah. Gwen Stacy." He says rolling his eyes. "And it''ll never happen as long as you''re too much of a chicken."

    I blush. "It''s not even like that, man. She''s totally out of my league, always has been, and now she hangs with a different kind of group I can''t even get anywhere near her."

    "So what? Mary Jane was out of my league, and I kissed her." He says with a proud grin on his face.

    "Yeah, and you made sure everyone in the third grade never forgot it." I say, chuckling at him. "You wanna hop on the game for round two?"

    "You mean you wanna get your ass kicked around again?" He says playfully.

    As we settle into another round of gaming, the atmosphere shifts when Harry''s father, Norman Osborn, enters the room. The door swings open, and Norman steps in, a sharp contrast to the warmth of our laughter. He carries an air of authority that fills the space instantly, his tailored suit a stark reminder of the world of business and power he represents. I can feel the tension crackling in the air, and my stomach tightens.

    "Peter, good to see you," Norman says, his voice smooth but edged with an undertone of scrutiny. His eyes dart between Harry and me, assessing, calculating. "I didn''t know you''d be here tonight."

    "Yeah, just hanging out," I reply, trying to sound casual but feeling like I''m under a microscope.

    "It''s been a while since I''ve last seen you here my boy, I figured you''d move on to things that were better suited to your time. I''m sorry if Harry''s taken you away from any other responsibilities you might''ve had for the evening." Norman continues, his gaze intensifying, I can practically feel Harry frown. "You''ve always struck me as a bright boy with a promising future. Any thoughts on what you might want to pursue after school?"

    I fidget slightly, caught off guard by the question. "Uh, I don''t know yet. Just trying to get through my classes right now."

    "Understandable," he replies, nodding thoughtfully. "But you have great potential. I''ve heard many great things about what you''ve been up to from Harry. You should consider something ambitious¡ªperhaps engineering or science?"

    I can feel Harry''s discomfort increasing beside me, the weight of his father''s expectations palpable in the room. "I think he just wants to get through finals first," Harry interjects, his voice tight.

    Norman''s gaze sharpens, focusing on Harry. "Yes, well, let''s hope he doesn''t have too many distractions." The edge in his voice makes the air feel thicker, and I can sense the unspoken tension between them.

    We return to our game, but the discomfort lingers like an unwelcome guest. Norman clears his throat, shifting the conversation. "By the way, I''ll be attending Dr. Octavius''s presentation at you boys school tonight."

    "Wait, you''re going to the presentation?" Harry asks, surprise flickering in his eyes.

    "Yes, I am the one funding his little project after all," Norman replies, eyeing both of us with an intensity that feels unnerving. "And I thought it might be a good idea for you two to come along. It''s always beneficial to stay informed, and it could be a valuable experience."

    "Uh, sure. Sounds great." I reply, forcing a smile while internally bracing myself. The idea of attending an event with Norman Osborn makes me uneasy, especially given the intensity of his focus on Harry and the strange vibe between them.

    Harry glances at me, the corners of his mouth twitching in what I hope is a smile, but the tension in his shoulders remains. "Yeah, we''d love to," he says, his tone clipped.

 Calculated Risks, Uncalculated Consequences

    AS we pile into Norman''s sleek black SUV, the plush leather seats swallow us, and I can''t shake the feeling that I''m stepping into a high-stakes game where the rules are beyond my comprehension. Norman''s hands grip the steering wheel with an almost mechanical precision, his focus locked on the road ahead. The quiet hum of the engine contrasts sharply with the tension simmering in the air.

    Harry sits in the backseat next to me, his posture rigid, as if he''s bracing for impact. He steals glances at his father, whose eyes remain fixed on the road, the silence hanging heavy between us. I can''t help but feel like an intruder, caught in the middle of something I don''t fully understand.

    "So, Peter," Norman begins, his voice smooth but layered with an undercurrent of expectation. "I''ve heard quite a bit about your academic achievements. You''re quite the overachiever, aren''t you?"

    "Uh, I just try to keep my grades up," I say, my voice coming out too light and airy, almost awkward. "Nothing special, really."

    "Modesty is a virtue, but don''t sell yourself short," he counters, glancing at me momentarily before returning his gaze to the road. "You should take pride in your accomplishments."

    I nod, the pressure of his attention making me uncomfortable. I steal a look at Harry, who''s staring out the window, the city lights blurring past us like memories he''s trying to escape. There''s a tightness in his jaw that speaks volumes, a silent communication that says he''s not entirely comfortable being in the same space as his father right now.

    The SUV glides through the streets, and I can see the school looming in the distance, its silhouette stark against the evening sky. Norman turns the radio down, and the quiet feels heavier.

    "Harry," he says, breaking the silence again. "You''re doing well in your studies, aren''t you? I hope you''re not letting distractions get in the way of your future."

    Harry shifts in his seat, a subtle sign of discomfort. "Yeah, Dad. I''m doing fine," he replies, his tone clipped, almost defensive.

    "Good," Norman replies, his voice carrying a note of finality. "I''d hate to think you were wasting your potential."

    I watch as Harry clenches his fists, his knuckles white against his thigh. The tension crackles in the air, an unspoken conflict lingering just below the surface. I want to say something, to ease the discomfort, but I don''t know how to navigate this delicate landscape between father and son.

    Norman''s eyes flick briefly to the rearview mirror, catching Harry''s gaze for a moment before turning back to the road. The look he gives is searching, almost probing, as if trying to gauge something that remains hidden between them.

    "Peter," Norman says, shifting the conversation back to me. "I trust you''ll be there to support Harry if he ever finds himself in trouble. He can be a handful, but I know you''ll watch out for him."

    "Of course," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady, though I can feel Harry''s tension radiating beside me.

    Harry exhales slowly, the sound barely audible over the hum of the car. "Yeah, thanks, Pete."

    As we approach the school, the lights illuminate the entrance, casting long shadows that seem to stretch and twist in the twilight. The atmosphere shifts.

    "Here we are," Norman announces, pulling up to the front of the school. The parking lot is bustling with students and parents, the air electric with anticipation for Dr. Octavius''s presentation.

    Norman parks the SUV, the engine idling softly, and I glance over at Harry. His expression is a mix of apprehension. For as long as I can remember Harry and his father have always had this type of atmosphere around them, as if they were always thinking things but never explicitly saying it out loud, but it was never this bad.

    "Let''s make this a night to remember," Norman says, the words hanging in the air, carrying an edge that makes my heart race.

    As we step out of the car, Norman turns to us, his expression a mix of business and intensity. "I''ve got some matters to address behind the scenes. I need to ensure everything goes according to plan. You boys find a seat in the back. I''ll see you both after the presentation."

    "Okay, see you then," I reply, trying to sound casual while Harry remains silent, his eyes fixed on the ground as his father strides into the auditorium, disappearing from view.

    "Let''s go, Pete," Harry says, his voice tight as he leads the way toward the front entrance.

    "Right behind you," I answer, matching his pace but feeling the tension lingering between us.

    As we step inside, the atmosphere envelops us like a thick fog. The auditorium is packed to the brim, a sea of students, parents, and faculty members buzzing with anticipation. Rows of chairs fill the space, all directed toward the stage, where a sleek presentation setup awaits. Bright lights illuminate the room, casting an energetic glow on the crowd as chatter fills the air, a collective excitement palpable in the atmosphere.

    I glance around, taking in the sea of faces. Some are familiar, classmates eager for the latest innovations from Mr. Octavius, while others are unknown, all gathered to witness what promises to be a groundbreaking presentation. The buzz of conversation escalates, laughter intertwining with the hum of anticipation, and I can''t help but feel the excitement bubbling up inside me, even amidst the underlying tension.

    Harry leads us toward the back, and I can see a few empty seats near the aisle. As we settle into our chairs, I can feel Harry''s restlessness beside me, his fingers tapping nervously against the armrest. I shoot him a reassuring glance, hoping to alleviate some of his anxiety, but he only offers a faint smile in return, his gaze wandering toward the stage.

    "I guess you did decide to come after all." I hear a familiar voice from behind me, and I turn to see Gwen standing there, a warm smile on her face.

    "Gwen?" I say, surprised. The realization hits me that I completely forgot to text her about coming, leaving me feeling like a jerk for not including her in my plans. "I... It was a last-minute thing. I''m sorry, I would''ve let you know."

    Gwen chuckles softly, shaking her head. "Peter, it''s fine. I''m just glad to see you and Harry are cool again."

    "Y-Yeah, we are," I reply, relief flooding through me at the sight of my best friend back at my side. It feels like a small victory, one that lifts a weight off my shoulders.

    Suddenly, I hear Liz calling from a few rows ahead. "Gwen! What are you doing? Come on!"

    "Yeah, I just wanted to say hi to Pete really quickly. I''m coming!" Gwen calls back before turning to me. "I''ll see you, Pete."

    I watch her rush off to join her group, feeling a mix of happiness and disappointment. I wish we could''ve had more time to catch up.

    "Tragic," Harry mutters from beside me, his voice dripping with mock sadness.

    "Shut up," I reply, unable to suppress a grin as I shake my head at his teasing. The tension in the air lightens a little.

    As the auditorium fills with chatter again, I can''t help but glance back at where Gwen disappeared. There''s something about her that makes everything feel a bit more normal, a bit more manageable. Just then, the lights dim further, drawing our attention back to the stage, where the presentation is about to begin.

    The lights in the auditorium dim even further, and the chatter from the crowd quickly dies down. A hush of anticipation fills the room as a figure steps onto the stage. It''s Mr. Octavius,  a tall man, slightly hunched, with thinning hair and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He adjusts them as he approaches the podium, clearing his throat before speaking into the microphone.

    "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," the man begins, his voice steady and confident. "My name is Dr. Otto Octavius, and tonight, I''m thrilled to introduce you to something my team and I have been working on for quite some time."

    There''s a murmur of interest from the crowd as Dr. Octavius gestures to the large machine covered in a cloth behind him. He takes a step back, allowing the audience to fully take in the presence of the veiled device on stage.

    "What you are about to witness is a breakthrough in energy harnessing and sustainable power," he continues. "We have been developing a set of mechanical arms, impervious to both heat and magnetism, designed specifically to handle hazardous materials and extreme energy sources. These arms will assist us in furthering our research on clean energy and make it possible to work with elements that were previously too dangerous or volatile to manipulate directly."

    He turns toward the machine, pulling back the cloth to reveal a sleek, metallic contraption¡ªa set of four robotic arms, each one gleaming under the stage lights. The arms are attached to a harness that could be worn on the back, and they look both intricate and powerful, their joints smooth and fluid.

    "These arms will allow us to handle high-energy compounds without the fear of radiation, magnetism, or extreme temperatures," Dr. Octavius explains, his voice filled with pride. "We believe this is the key to unlocking new ways of harvesting and storing energy that could revolutionize how we power the world."

    The audience is rapt, everyone leaning forward slightly in their seats. Even I can feel my heart racing, I never knew that Mr. Octavius was working on something so...incredible. Energy research...it could really change so many things about how we view science.

    "And of course," Dr. Octavius continues, "none of this would have been possible without the help of someone who shares our vision for the future. A man who has generously provided us the funding and resources to make this dream a reality¡ªNorman Osborn."

    There''s a ripple of applause as Norman stands up from his seat a few rows ahead of us. He strides up to the stage with the kind of confidence that only someone like him could muster, his presence commanding the room without needing to say a word.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    "Thank you, Otto," Norman says, smiling warmly at the doctor before turning to address the audience. "I have always believed in the power of science and innovation to shape our future. What Dr. Octavius and his team have developed here is nothing short of extraordinary. Their research not only pushes the boundaries of what we thought was possible, but it also opens doors to new opportunities, new solutions to problems we haven''t even begun to solve."

    Norman''s gaze sweeps across the room, and when it lands on Harry and me, I can''t help but feel the intensity of it all over again. There''s something in the way he looks at us¡ªat me¡ªthat makes my skin prickle.

    "I am excited," Norman continues, "to see where this groundbreaking research will take us next. Energy has always been one of the greatest challenges of our time, and with the tools Dr. Octavius has created, I believe we are on the brink of something truly remarkable. The world will change, and we will be at the forefront of that change."

    The applause is thunderous this time, but all I can focus on is the uneasy feeling swirling in the pit of my stomach. As Norman steps down from the stage, he exchanges a firm handshake with Dr. Octavius, both men smiling as if they''ve just secured the future in their grasp.

    Harry leans over to me, his voice barely a whisper. "If my dad personally came to this, it must be a big deal."

    A big deal is an understatement. If what he said is true, then they really could make what they''re talking about a reality.

    My mind racing as the rest of the presentation continues.

    Dr. Octavius steps forward again, his voice rising with a touch of excitement. "Now, I''m sure many of you are eager to see how these mechanical arms function in real time. Let me show you what they''re capable of."

    With a few taps on the harness attached to the base of the robotic arms, he triggers the system. The metallic limbs spring to life, each moving with a fluidity that defies their massive structure. The crowd collectively leans in, eyes wide with fascination. Even I can''t help but be awestruck. The precision, the sheer power of these things¡ªthey''re incredible.

    Dr. Octavius slips his arms through the harness, the mechanical limbs attaching to his spine with a series of soft clicks and whirs. He raises a hand, and the corresponding mechanical arm does the same, its motion as smooth and effortless as if it were his own limb. He moves across the stage, letting the arms lift him into the air with an ease that seems impossible.

    "The neural interface allows me to control each arm as if it were an extension of my body," he says, smiling proudly. He performs a few more demonstrations, each more impressive than the last. He hovers, twists in midair, and even picks up a heavy piece of equipment from the stage with one of the arms like it''s a toy.

    The crowd murmurs in amazement, and I catch myself grinning. This is next-level stuff. The kind of invention that could redefine how we think about technology. "That''s some crazy science," I think, unable to shake my admiration. "To control something like that with your mind? I''ve never seen anything like it."

    But then, something changes. As Dr. Octavius continues to show off the arms, his movements start to slow, and the once-fluid grace of the mechanical limbs becomes jerky and erratic. He hesitates mid-sentence, blinking rapidly as if trying to clear his head. The crowd doesn''t seem to notice at first, but I do. There''s something wrong.

    "Uh... Dr. Octavius?" Norman says from his seat, sensing the shift in the air.

    Octavius doesn''t respond. He stands there, silent for a moment, his eyes unfocused. Then, almost too quietly for anyone else to hear, he begins to mutter to himself.

    "You... you planned this," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "You did this."

    The room goes dead quiet. A nervous ripple passes through the audience as Dr. Octavius'' mumblings grow louder, more frantic. His face twists into a snarl, and he suddenly jerks his head toward Norman, pointing one of the mechanical arms in his direction.

    "You!" Octavius shouts, his voice filled with a kind of madness I haven''t heard before. "You''ve sabotaged me, haven''t you? You''ve always been plotting!"

    Norman''s face tightens, but he remains calm, standing up slowly from his seat. "Otto, calm down," he says, his voice low and measured. "There''s no sabotage here. Let''s not make a scene."

    But Dr. Octavius doesn''t seem to hear him. His breathing becomes erratic, and the arms start to move on their own, twitching and coiling like snakes preparing to strike. "You think I''m a fool, don''t you?" he rages. "You''ve been using me, manipulating me for your own gain!"

    "Otto, you''re not well¡ª" Norman starts, but before he can finish, one of the arms lunges toward him, fast as lightning.

    Chaos erupts. Armed guards appear seemingly out of nowhere, rushing to Norman''s side, but Octavius swats them away with ease, sending them flying like rag dolls. The auditorium descends into panic, people screaming and scrambling toward the exits, but the doors slam shut, trapping everyone inside.

    I glance at Harry, who''s frozen in shock, and realize I need to act fast. "I''ve got to suit up¡ªnow."

    Without a word, I slip out of my seat, making sure Harry doesn''t notice as I dart down the aisle. My heart is racing as I remember that I left my usual suit in my backpack... at Harry''s house. "Great, Parker, real prepared this time," I mutter under my breath.

    But I have a backup. I always keep an emergency suit under my locker at school. It''s not perfect, but it''ll have to do.

    I bolt through the hallways, my mind a blur of adrenaline and strategy. After what feels like an eternity, I reach my locker, grabbing the hidden suit and throwing it on as quickly as I can. "Please don''t let Harry be dead by the time I get back," I mutter, tugging the mask over my head.

    I sprint back to the auditorium only to find the doors locked tight from the inside. A quick glance around reveals no easy entry, and I know I''ll have to improvise.

    "Windows," I think, spotting a small gap at the top of the building. With a leap, I web-sling myself up to the nearest window, prying it open just enough to slip through. Once inside, I take in the scene below: Dr. Octavius standing in the center of the chaos, his mechanical arms lashing out wildly, while Norman tries to keep his composure amidst the carnage.

    I land softly on the stage, directly in front of Octavius. "Hey, Doc," I say, my voice cutting through the noise. "I think you''ve had enough show-and-tell for one night."

    Dr. Octavius'' wild eyes lock onto me, his expression a twisted blend of rage and paranoia. The mechanical arms writhe and curl above his head, ready to strike. "You... Spider-Man. You''re working with him, aren''t you?" he snarls, his voice filled with venom. "Why else would you be here? Along with Norman''s guards? Yes, you''ve planned all of this, haven''t you, Osborn!"

    I glance at Norman, who''s standing just behind one of his fallen guards, shock written across his face. The auditorium doors still sealed tight make me wonder how this all went south so quickly. How did the exits get locked? Was it part of some security measure? Or was this all Otto''s doing?

    Before I can think further, one of Otto''s arms lashes out toward Norman, the steel claw coming down with brutal force.

    "Not today!" I yell, launching a webline at Norman, pulling him out of the way just in time. The ground where he stood a second ago shatters as the arm smashes into the stage.

    I shoot another web, yanking myself into the air, narrowly dodging a second blow from one of the mechanical arms. The crowd is already panicking, people rushing to the sealed doors, pounding on them, desperate to get out. I spot Gwen and Harry huddled together in the chaos, Gwen''s face pale with fear, but Felicia... nowhere in sight. I shake off the thought¡ªthis isn''t her scene anyway. No time to think about that now.

    "I don''t get it, Doc!" I shout, flipping through the air and launching web after web to keep Octavius'' arms at bay. "Why are you doing this? What''s the point?"

    But he doesn''t answer. He''s not in the mood for conversation, clearly. Another arm shoots toward me, and I dodge again, but the stage crumples under its impact, sending debris flying into the crowd.

    "Focus, Parker." I remind myself. "There are people in here. Keep them safe."

    I web-sling across the stage, landing in front of a group of terrified students. "Get to the back, now!" I yell, webbing a chunk of falling debris before it can hit them. The kids scramble toward the far end of the auditorium as I turn back just in time to see one of Otto''s arms coming straight for me. It hits me square in the chest, sending me flying into a wall.

    Pain shoots through me, but I have to get back up. There''s no time to wallow in it. I leap to my feet, firing webs as fast as I can, trying to pin down the mechanical arms, but Otto is relentless. He swings wildly, not caring who''s in his path. Chairs are smashed to pieces, and chunks of the ceiling begin to fall as his arms rip into the walls.

    The entire auditorium watches, huddled together toward the back of the room. There''s no way out. I need to end this¡ªfast.

    "Doc!" I call, ducking under another swing. "You''re gonna hurt someone! This isn''t you!"

    He doesn''t respond. His eyes are wild, unfocused, lost in some madness I can''t reach. One of the arms grabs a chunk of the stage and hurls it at me. I barely manage to dodge, rolling to the side and webbing another piece before it can hit a group of people nearby. My web fluid''s running low. I''ve gotta be smart.

    Octavius swings another arm, and I leap onto it, running along the length of the mechanical limb and firing webs as I go, trying to tie it down. But as I do, another arm catches me mid-jump, slamming me into the ground. I groan, feeling the impact deep in my bones.

    "Gotta... keep moving..." I mumble, struggling to get to my feet.

    Octavius isn''t holding back. He''s throwing everything at me, and I''m running on fumes. Another blow sends me skidding across the floor, and before I can react, an arm grabs me by the leg, lifting me into the air and slamming me back down hard. I gasp for air, my body screaming in pain.

    "You can''t stop me!" Octavius bellows, his voice echoing through the room. "None of you can! Osborn, you won''t be able to stop what''s coming for you!"

    I feel the grip of his arm tighten around me, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Just as I''m about to pass out, I see him turn toward Norman again, pure rage in his eyes.

    "No," I think, adrenaline surging through me. "I can''t let him hurt anyone else."

    With all my strength, I fire a web at Otto''s face, temporarily blinding him, causing him to release me. I crash to the floor, gasping for air, but I don''t have time to rest. I need to get the crowd out of here, and fast.

    But how?

    "I don''t have any more time to play with you, boy," Dr. Octavius growls, his voice dripping with disdain. I''m still struggling to get back on my feet, pain shooting through every part of my body, as he makes his move. His mechanical arms sink into the walls with ease, pulling him upward toward the roof, the very same route I had used to sneak in.

    But as he climbs, something catches my eye¡ªthe cracks in the roof. The ones that had started small, barely noticeable, now spread like spiderwebs, widening with every second. The entire ceiling is starting to buckle under the stress of the fight. The beams groan ominously, the cracks growing deeper and longer.

    Then I see it¡ªthe roof begins to cave in. It''s all coming down, and fast.

    My heart pounds in my chest. I have two choices: stop Dr. Octavius from escaping or save the people still trapped in here.

    For a split second, my instincts scream to chase after him. To stop him before he can disappear into the night, free to wreak havoc on the city again. But then I look down¡ªGwen, Harry, and everyone else are still in danger. They''re helpless, huddling against the walls, waiting for a way out, and the roof is seconds from crushing them.

    I clench my fists. I can''t do both.

    "Come on, Peter. You know what you have to do," I think to myself, the choice isn''t even a choice, it''s clear what I have to do.

    I grit my teeth, watching as Dr. Octavius pulls himself higher and higher, the metal arms propelling him upward with terrifying speed. I hate this. I hate letting him go. But I can''t let all these people die¡ªnot when I can save them.

    With one last look at Octavius vanishing through the shattered roof I leap to my feet, ignoring the pain. The roof is caving in, and I only have seconds to act. People are screaming, huddling together in fear, and I know there''s no way out for them unless I do something.

    I fire webs at the collapsing roof, one after the other, anchoring it as best I can, using every ounce of my strength to hold it in place. "C''mon, Parker. You''ve got this. You''ve done crazier things before... right?"

    The weight is unbearable. My arms are burning, my body feels like it''s about to break, but I can''t let go. Not yet. I grit my teeth, pulling harder, holding the roof together as long as I can.

    Then, I hear the doors burst open. Police flood into the auditorium, guiding the panicked crowd out. I spot Harry and Gwen being led to safety, and I allow myself a brief moment of relief.

    But I''m running out of time. I feel the webbing start to give, and my strength is fading fast. "Just a little longer," I tell myself. "Just hold it... a little longer..."

    Finally, the last of the crowd is out. I see the officers nod to me as they retreat through the doors.

    That''s when my body finally gives out. The roof collapses, the weight too much for me to hold any longer. I drop to the floor, webbing still clinging to the falling debris as it crashes down around me. I hit the floor hard, rubble piling on top of me, heavy, suffocating.

    I try to move, but nothing happens. I''m pinned. Every muscle screams in pain, my lungs burning with each shallow breath I manage to take. My mask is torn, half of it ripped away, exposing my face to the cold air and the crushing weight pressing down on me.

    This can''t be it. I can''t go out like this.

    I try again to push, to free myself, but the weight is too much. My body is spent, every ounce of strength I''ve relied on is gone, and for a terrifying moment, I feel a pang of helplessness I haven''t felt in a long time. I''m stuck. Buried under all this debris. It''s too heavy, and I...I can''t do it.

    I close my eyes, the crushing feeling in my chest no longer just physical. I think of Aunt May, of all the people I promised to protect, and then...Uncle Ben.

    His voice comes to me like a whisper from the past. "With great power, there must also come great responsibility."

    It''s not just a saying. Not just a line I repeat to make sense of what happened that night. Uncle Ben didn''t die just so I could fail. He died because I wasn''t responsible enough to act when I had the chance. And I swore that I''d never let that happen again.

    Spider-Man isn''t just a mask. Spider-Man is me. Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

    The memory of Uncle Ben feels like a lifeline. I think about all those moments he believed in me, long before I had powers, when I was just the awkward kid trying to figure out life. "You''re stronger than you think, Peter." He always told me that. He knew me better than I knew myself.

    My heart pounds as I take a deep breath, focusing on that voice, that belief. I can''t give up. Not now. Not ever. People need me. Gwen. Harry. Aunt May.

    I grit my teeth and summon every bit of strength I have left, feeling it ripple through my exhausted body. I begin to push. It feels impossible, like the weight of the entire world is pressing down on me, but I push anyway.

    "Come on Spider-Man," I mutter through the pain. "Come on Spider-Man."

    My arms shake as I try to lift the debris. It feels like nothing''s moving, but I keep going. I have to. The weight presses down harder, but I dig deep, finding something buried inside me¡ªsomething more than just strength. It''s the will to keep going, to never give up.

    "Come...on...Spider-Man!" I chant through gritted teeth, forcing the words out like they''ll push the weight off me.

    Little by little, the rubble starts to shift. My muscles scream, but I don''t stop. I won''t stop.

    "Come on Spider-Man!" I yell, louder this time, my voice cracking but my spirit unbroken. My arms shake, my back strains, and finally, finally¡ªI feel the debris lifting. Inch by inch, I rise, pushing harder than I ever have before, forcing the rubble off of me with everything I''ve got.

    The weight lifts, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I can breathe again. I push one last time, and the debris crashes to the ground beside me, freeing me.

    I''m on my knees, gasping for air, but I did it. I''m free. I''m alive.

    Because I am Spider-Man.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Evading the cops was the easy part. Their focus was on the civilians, making sure everyone got out safely. So, here I am, sitting on a rooftop, nursing the bruises and aches from my run-in with Dr. Octavius. None of it adds up. The sudden shift in his attitude, the aggression, the way he snapped¡ªand those words he kept muttering. "It''s Norman''s fault."

    It sounded insane at first. But then I remembered something Dr. Connors said when he attacked Oscorp: "Osborn did this to me." I didn''t make much of it then, just the ramblings of a man in pain. But now? It''s starting to feel like a pattern. And there''s Mac Gargan, who came after Harry for leverage¡ªleverage against someone. Could that someone have been Norman?

    Norman Osborn. The same guy who used to watch Lord of the Rings marathons with Harry and me. The same guy who was there for me after Uncle Ben died, when I didn''t know how to face the world. That Norman Osborn?

    I don''t know what to think anymore.

    But I can''t shake this feeling that something''s off. Too many weird things have been happening lately, and Oscorp always seems to be at the center. There''s more to Norman Osborn than what he shows the world¡ªmore than what he''s shown me.

    Still, right now, I can''t dwell on that. The bigger issue is that I failed. I let Dr. Octavius slip away, and God only knows what he''s planning next. I have to stop him. I can''t afford another mistake.

    Because that''s what being Spider-Man means¡ªno matter the bruises, no matter the doubts, I have to keep going.

    Because I have a responsibility.

 Spideréˆ¥æªš Donéˆ¥æª› Fly

    DR. OTTO OCTAVIUS sits patiently in the dimly lit, cavernous room beneath New York City¡ªa forgotten facility from the early days of Oscorp.

    His fingers drum rhythmically on the desk as he waits. His eyes, beneath the thick glasses, gleam with intelligence tinged with something darker. Something fractured.

    Adrian Toomes enters the room, his heavy boots echoing against the metallic floor. He crosses his arms, appraising the man in front of him. "So, you''re the one who sent for me. Gotta say, Doc, I''ve heard a lot about you. Not all of it good. And breaking into Oscorp?" He pauses, his lips curling into a smirk. "I don''t need that kinda heat right now. Not with all the extra security after... well, after your little incident."

    Octavius''s mechanical arms twitch at the reminder.

    The doctor keeps his gaze steady, but his fingers briefly stop their tapping. "Indeed, Oscorp''s... unfortunate triple security measures have made infiltration quite the task." He leans forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "But I wouldn''t call on you, Mr. Toomes, unless I knew you were more than capable of handling such matters. I''ve heard about your work, it''s not like it''d be the first time you''ve stolen from the rich. There''s an invention that I believe would be perfect in assistin¡ª"

    Octavius pauses, his eyes losing focus, his voice dropping to a murmur. The mechanical arms attached to his spine hum ominously, as if responding to his thoughts.

    Whispers. You are not alone.

    No... I am... I was...

    "Stop it," Octavius mutters, his voice quivering. His gaze darkens, staring off into the distance, as if caught in a battle within his own mind.

    Toomes raises an eyebrow, his usual swagger faltering as he notices Octavius''s distant mumbling. "Hey, Doc. You with me?" Toomes asks, cautiously eyeing the metal appendages, their movements growing erratic.

    The good doctor snaps back to reality, clapping his hands together, regaining composure with a startling abruptness. "Yes, yes, forgive me. Now, where were we? Ah, yes." Octavius stands, motioning for Toomes to follow as they proceed deeper into the bowels of the facility.

    Toomes keeps his distance as they walk, eyes roving over strange sights¡ªshattered glass cases, remnants of failed experiments, and a tank filled with eels, their faintly glowing eyes following the pair as they move past. "What is all this?" he asks, voice low with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

    Octavius turns, his face twisting into a bitter smile. "Potential, Mr. Toomes. Potential that Norman Osborn foolishly discarded. This facility was once the center of a grand vision¡ªuntil Osborn decided it was a waste of resources. A vision sabotaged by his arrogance." His voice seethes with contempt, every word dripping with venom. "He sabotaged my life''s work. Cast me as the villain, while he walks away unscathed, the unsuspecting victim. Because of him, these things, they...they have implanted themselves into my mind."

    Toomes smirks at that, folding his arms again. "Yeah, that sounds like Osborn. Always did have a way of making himself look squeaky clean while the rest of us do the dirty work." His gaze falls on something ahead, something encased in glass. "Speaking of... what''s that?"

    Before them sits a suit¡ªsleek, dangerous, with metallic wings folded against its back. Toomes steps closer, eyes narrowing. "Some kind of bird suit?"

    Octavius places his hands behind his back, the mechanical arms mirroring the gesture, looming like silent guardians. "The Vulture Mk III. Refined. Agile. Stronger than anything Oscorp''s ever dreamed of. And, with it, you''ll be able to infiltrate their little fortress and retrieve something very important for me."

    Toomes scoffs, turning away from the suit to face the doctor. "You''ve got those big metal arms of yours. Why not just storm the place yourself? You''d be halfway in by the time they even realized something was happening."

    A flicker of frustration crosses Octavius''s face, his arms twitching behind him. "If it were that simple, I would have." His voice tightens, the bitterness clear. "But Osborn... he knows me. He''s prepared for me. There are countermeasures in place, and I¡ª" He pauses, his mechanical arms twitching again, the whispers in his mind growing louder. "I must perfect them. Gain...control. In the meantime, you will retrieve what I need. The suit will make sure of it."

    Toomes leans in closer to the glass, eyeing the suit more intently. "And if I run into trouble? Say someone decides to take a few shots at me, what''s stopping them from putting me in the ground?"

    Octavius''s lips curl into a knowing smile. "You''ll find the Vulture Mk III is more than capable of defending itself. And, once you''re inside, you''ll be untouchable."

    Toomes chuckles, placing a hand on the glass. "Untouchable, huh? I like the sound of that." He glances back at Octavius, the gears in his mind turning. "Alright, Doc. Let''s give this thing a test run."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Flash''s voice echoes through the lunchroom as he dramatically recounts my fight with Dr. Octavius. "And then Spider-Man swings in, all like ''Show''s over, Doc!'' and bam, starts laying into him!" His arms flail wildly, illustrating a version of events so exaggerated, it''d make anyone think I''d walked away without a scratch.

    But I can still feel every bruise from that fight. Thank god for Felicia and her makeup skills. As long as no one looks too closely¡ªwhich they usually don''t¡ªI should be in the clear.

    "I still can''t believe all of that happened," Harry says, his voice quiet. We both watch as Flash continues his one-man performance. "Mr. Octavius never seemed like the kind of guy to turn into some psycho and try to kill my dad."

    I nod, my stomach twisting at the memory of that night, and my failure to stop Dr. Octavius. "Yeah... How''s your dad holding up?"

    Harry scoffs, the bitterness clear in his voice. "He''s fine. Like nothing even happened. What about you?"

    I shift in my seat, forcing a smile. "I''m okay. I mean, as okay as someone can be after getting trampled by a crowd." It''s the excuse I gave Harry when he couldn''t get ahold of me that night. Told him I got knocked down, whisked away by some good Samaritans to a hospital, then released the same night. Not a perfect story, but it worked.

    "I don''t know how I lost you in that chaos," Harry says, frowning. "I''m sorry. Things just went south so fast." He''s clearly thinking about his dad. "And now Mr. Octavius is still out there, wanting to kill the only family I have left, besides you."

    I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to sound as reassuring as I can. "That''s not gonna happen, Harry. Your dad''s tough, and besides, Spider-Man''s got his back."

    Harry scoffs again. "If Spider-Man''s even still alive. You saw what happened, Pete¡ªhe got crushed by all that debris. He''s probably dead."

    Before I can respond, Flash suddenly points across the room, his voice loud as ever. "No way! Spider-Man''s not dead! He''s the toughest guy out there! He had to save all of us! If it wasn''t for that, he''d have wiped the floor with the Doc!"

    Ironic that Flash has become one of my biggest supporters, especially considering how much he loves making my life difficult.

    "Spider-Man saved all of our lives," Gwen says, sitting down at our table. There''s a quiet confidence in her voice that makes me glance up, feeling a little lighter. "Thank god he was there."

    But then Charlie, my second favorite bully, speaks up. "Hey, don''t you guys think it''s kinda weird?" he says, glancing around the table. "I mean, that''s the second time Spider-Man''s shown up at our school when some supervillain attacks. You don''t think maybe... I dunno, he goes to our school?"

    The lunchroom goes silent. Sweat forms at the back of my neck. My heart starts pounding.

    "Actually, that''s not a bad point," Liz Allen adds, leaning in. "I mean, he does kinda look like a scrawny kid. Who do you think it could be?"

    Flash grins as he walks over to me. "I know who it''s not." His hand lands heavily on my head, gripping it just a little too tightly. My muscles tense, but I keep my cool.

    Harry stands up, his voice cold. "Back off, Flash."

    Flash sneers. "Or what? You gonna tell your daddy? Or is he still hiding somewhere, hoping that big, bad tentacle guy doesn''t come for him again?"

    I feel the tension between them like a spark waiting to ignite. Harry glares at Flash, fury burning in his eyes.

    Gwen speaks up before things escalate. "Come on, Flash. Leave him alone. It was a bad night for everyone. Harry''s dad could''ve gotten hurt."

    Flash raises his hands, backing off with a grin. "I''m just messing around. No hard feelings, Osborn." He extends a hand for Harry to shake, but the bell rings, and Harry just walks away, scoffing.

    "Come on, Pete," Harry says, heading toward the exit. I grab the rest of my pizza and follow, but before I can catch up, Gwen calls out.

    "Hey, Peter, wait up!"

    "I''ll see you after school," Harry says with a knowing grin before leaving us. I can practically hear him teasing me in his head.

    "Hey, Gwen," I say, trying to sound casual. As we walk to class, she gives me a look that feels... inquisitive, like she''s reading me.

    "I''m surprised you came to school today after everything," Gwen says. Her voice is soft, concerned. "You can try to cover it up with makeup, but I can still see the bruises on your face."

    My heart skips a beat. Does she... know?

    I fumble for an excuse. "Oh, this? Yeah, well, it''s my aunt''s... and, uh, I got¡ª"

    She laughs, cutting me off. "Don''t worry, Harry already told me what happened. How you went to the hospital? We were both really worried."

    My face heats up, and I try not to stammer. "Oh, you were? About me? Don''t be, really. I''m fine."

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    She frowns slightly, then changes the subject. "Fine enough for our History test today?"

    I manage a smile. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, I''ve got the best tutor in the world, right?"

    Gwen returns the smile. "So do I."

    We''ve been tutoring each other for the last couple of weeks, sneaking in study sessions when I wasn''t swinging around the city as Spider-Man. But every time I look at her, I freeze up. She gave me her number, but I''ve never worked up the nerve to actually text her. What if she figures out that I like her? What if things get awkward, or worse, she ends up mocking me like Flash does?

    No. Gwen would never do that.

    But still... is it crazy to think that a guy like me could have a chance with someone like Gwen Stacy?

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Pencils down. Pass your papers forward," Mr. Baldwin announces, and I let out a deep sigh, finishing my last answer just in the nick of time. I pass my paper to the front of the class and turn around to catch Gwen giving me a thumbs-up. I grin and return the gesture.

    "Tomorrow marks the official end of the first semester," Mr. Baldwin drones on. "If you didn''t pass your final, you''ll have to repeat the semester to get full credit. Grades will be posted tonight. Also, I''ve been asked to remind you about the homecoming dance is next weekend. If any of you plan on attending, Liz Allen or Gwen Stacy are your go-to reps."

    Homecoming. The last school dance I went to was... well, a disaster. It ended with me spilling juice all over my pants, and Flash telling everyone I''d wet myself. Good times. Definitely not looking to relive that experience anytime soon.

    The bell rings, and everyone rushes to pack up, the day finally coming to an end. I''m supposed to meet Aunt May tonight¡ªshe''s been away for a while, and the house has felt pretty empty without her. Still, no curfew has been helpful when it comes to, you know, my other life.

    "Hey, Pete," Gwen calls out, walking over with Liz beside her, tapping away on her phone, barely paying attention. "I passed my final for Algebra, and it''s all thanks to you. Now all that''s left is for you to pass this, which I''m sure you did."

    I rub the back of my neck, smiling awkwardly. "Yeah, I actually felt pretty confident about it, which is weird. Thanks, Gwen. I would''ve been toast without your help."

    Gwen laughs. "Sure, Pete. You picked it up so quickly, you might''ve even beaten my score."

    I chuckle, even though there''s no way I did better than Gwen. "No way. You''re the Spock when it comes to this stuff."

    Did I just make a Star Trek reference? I can feel my face turning red. Was I always this lame?

    But Gwen just smiles and raises her hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper."

    My eyes widen. "Wait¡ªyou watch Star Trek?"

    I try to hold back the tidal wave of excitement (and nerdy fantasies of a Star Trek marathon with her) bubbling up inside. Gwen nods. "Yeah, my dad and I used to watch it every Sunday. Kind of a family tradition."

    I''m pretty sure my face is doing something awkward right now because I feel like I''m about to explode.

    "So did Uncle Ben and I," I say, though my voice catches for a moment. "We used to watch it together all the time."

    Gwen''s expression softens, and her voice drops a little, like she can sense the weight behind my words. "Well, if you ever want to have a Star Trek marathon of our own, just let me know."

    Before I can recover, Gwen smiles and walks off with Liz, heading toward the door. I stare after her, my mind buzzing. I''m not sure if I believe in soulmates, but¡ª

    "Gwen!" I call out before I can think twice.

    She turns, eyes bright. "Yeah, Pete?"

    "Let''s... hang out. If you''re not busy or anything," I say, trying not to trip over my own words.

    Gwen tilts her head and gives me that smile again. "Sounds great. I''m not busy right now. Want to check out the new comic store that just opened up on 39th?"

    ¡ªif soulmates were real, I''m pretty sure Gwen Stacy would be mine.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "This one''s called Miss Fury," Gwen explains, kneeling as she flips through the comic, her eyes lighting up. "She''s this detective superhero who wears a catsuit and fights Nazis. It''s set in the 1940s¡ªit''s pretty cool."

    Watching Gwen Stacy, the queen of the school¡ªcaptain of the volleyball team, star debater, most likely to become student body president¡ªgeek out over a comic book?

    Yeah, that stirred something deep inside me. Gwen Stacy, the girl every guy dreams about, was sitting in a comic book shop like it was her second home.

    I think I''m living the ultimate nerd fantasy.

    I remember the smug look on Harry''s face when I told him I''d be with Gwen at the comic book store, and now I think I''m starting to understand why he declined my invite.

    "You must''ve read a ton of comics growing up. I''ve never even heard of Miss Fury," I say, grabbing another issue off the shelf and kneeling beside her. "Looks like it was printed a long time ago."

    "Yeah, she''s one of the first female superheroes ever. But they stopped printing her stuff. Guess it didn''t catch on¡ªcomics were mostly a guy thing." Gwen raises the comic to cover her face for a second. "You must think I''m weird, huh?"

    Wait¡ªwas she being shy?

    "What? No way! I think you''re totally awesome," I blurt out, gently pulling the comic away so I can see her face again.

    She glances away with a small smile. "It''s not really the kind of stuff I can talk about with Liz or the others. So, I never get a chance to nerd out like this."

    "Hey, Gwen! Got that new issue you were looking for¡ªthe one with the Space Queen?" One of the store workers calls from the counter, his name tag reading "Davis."

    Gwen stands, heading over to him with a grin. "You saved it for me? Thanks! How much do I owe you?"

    "For our best customer? It''s on the house," Davis says with a smile before disappearing into the back room. Gwen thanks him, already flipping through the pages.

    "Wow, you really are a nerd," I tease.

    She laughs, her eyes glinting with a bit of mischief. "Yeah, I am. But that''ll be our secret, alright?" She presses a finger to her lips with a wink.

    I smile, but my phone buzzes in my pocket. I glance down, and a message pops up: All units, 10-38 at EastBank on 183 Center¡ª"

    Really? Now?

    I look up at Gwen, who''s engrossed in her new comic. I hate to cut this short, but duty calls.

    "Hey, Gwen... something came up," I stammer. "I''ve got to head out, you know, get the place ready for Aunt May¡ªshe''s coming back today, so, I''ve got a lot to do," I finish, fumbling for a believable excuse.

    Gwen looks up from her comic with an understanding smile. "No worries, Peter. Tell May I said hi, and that I''ll stop by sometime. She makes the best pies."

    "Yeah, she''ll love that," I say, trying not to sound too rushed. I shoot her a quick smile, already planning how fast I can change and make it across town.

    "See you around, Gwen," I say, turning to head for the door.

    "Bye, Peter!" she calls, waving. "And hey¡ªdon''t forget to let me know how you did on that history test!"

    I nod, trying not to trip over myself as I exit the store. A part of me is thrilled she''s into stuff like that, but right now, I''ve got to focus on more immediate problems. The second I''m out of sight, I slip into an alley and change into my Spider-Man suit.

    "Alright, EastBank," I mutter to myself, webbing up to the nearest building. "Let''s see who''s stupid to ruin my¡ªnot date¡ªhang out with Gwen Stacy."

    Within minutes, I''m swinging through the streets, the familiar rush of wind in my face. But even with the city buzzing below me and my senses sharp for trouble, I can''t stop thinking about Gwen.

    She''s not just this untouchable popular girl anymore; she''s real, down-to-earth, and surprisingly... nerdy. Maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªthere''s a shot for someone like me with someone like her.

    Focus, Parker. Bank robbery first, romance second.

    I spot the flashing lights of police cars surrounding the EastBank building and drop down onto a nearby rooftop. The scene below looks chaotic¡ªofficers are barricading the entrance.

    Time for Spider-Man to make an entrance.

    I leap down, landing right in front of the bank''s entrance, drawing a few surprised looks from the officers. One of them, a burly guy I recognize from past encounters, steps forward.

    "Spider-Man," he grunts, his arms crossed. "So you''re not dead?"

    "Yeah, lucky for you guys I can still keep doing your jobs for you," I say with a smile. "What''s the situation inside?"

    The officer gestures toward the glass doors. "We''ve got some guy inside holding up the place. Says he''s got hostages."

    I crack my knuckles, about to leap into action when I hear a stern voice behind me.

    "Hey! What do you think you''re doing?"

    I turn, and of course, it''s Captain Stacy. My heart skips a beat as he strides over, all authority and no nonsense.

    "Oh, uh..." Why am I saluting? Seriously, Parker, get it together. "Captain! Just here to, you know, help."

    Captain Stacy narrows his eyes, his hand instinctively moving to his holstered gun. "Not this time, Spider-Man. Look, I know what you did for my daughter and her school the other day. Believe me, I appreciate that. But I can''t have a vigilante just waltzing in here."

    I deflate a little, but I''m not ready to back down just yet. "Sir, I get it, I do. And despite what that J. Jonah Windbag at the Bugle says, I''m just trying to do the right thing. But we''ve seen each other enough times to where I feel like you don''t need me to tell you that." I pause for dramatic effect, flashing the Vulcan salute. "And besides, Captain¡ªlive long and prosper, right?"

    That throws him off for a split second. I see it in his eyes. He''s trying real hard not to smile.

    Before he can respond, I shoot a web at the door. "I''ve got this covered, Captain! I promise not to break anything too expensive!" Then I''m inside, webbing it shut behind me.

    The bank lobby is dead quiet, save for a few hushed murmurs from terrified hostages. I cling to the ceiling, my body tense, senses heightened.

    The bank is eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that makes my spider-sense tingle.

    I step cautiously through the shadows of the vault room, the hostages are nowhere in sight, but something feels wrong. Really wrong.

    I freeze as I hear the faint sound of metal scraping against tile. Then I catch a glimpse of something in the far corner¡ªa figure standing motionless, wings folded tightly against his back.

    He''s facing away from me, but there''s no mistaking the metallic gleam of the wings or the mechanical hum that fills the air.

    I don''t know who or what this guy is, but I''m willing to bet he''s jerk behind all this.

    "Guess you didn''t get the memo about robbing banks in broad daylight being a really dumb idea," I quip, trying to keep my voice light as I inch closer.

    The figure doesn''t respond at first, but then, with an almost unnatural smoothness, he turns to face me. I get my first real look at him¡ªthe wings, sharp and angular, almost like a bird of prey''s. His suit is armored, sleek, with glowing green eyes behind a vicious, beaked mask. It''s not just some guy in a Halloween costume; this guy''s got serious tech.

    "You''re late," he rasps, his voice cold and metallic. "I was hoping you''d show up sooner. But no matter. This''ll do."

    Before I can even fire a web, he lunges at me, faster than I expect. I barely manage to flip backward, dodging his talons as they slice through the air with a sharp, metallic shing.

    "Okay, so you''re fast. Great. But I still don''t know who you¡ªwhoa!" I jump out of the way as he dives again, this time ramming into the marble floor where I had been standing just moments before. The ground shatters under the impact, sending cracks splintering through the tile.

    He''s not playing around.

    I fire off a web to the ceiling, swinging up to get some distance. "Not much for conversation, huh? That''s cool. I can talk enough for the both of us."

    I launch another web at his wings, but the moment the webbing makes contact, he twists mid-air, using the momentum to pull me toward him. My spider-sense flares, but not fast enough¡ªI''m yanked straight into his outstretched talons.

    The impact is like getting hit by a truck. I crash into the ground, skidding across the bank floor, my suit tearing as sparks fly from the scuffed tiles.

    I try to catch my breath, the pain radiating through my ribs. This guy isn''t just fast¡ªhe''s brutal.

    "Not what I expected, Spider-Man," he growls, his voice echoing through the bank as he hovers above me. "But you are still just a kid."

    I stagger to my feet, wincing at the pain shooting up my side. "Yeah, well, your suit''s compensating for something, right? Like, I dunno, a really weird bird fetish?"

    The insult barely leaves my mouth before he''s diving at me again.

    I leap to the side, but this time, he catches me mid-swing, grabbing me by the arm and throwing me through one of the bank''s windows.

    Glass shatters as I''m hurled into the street outside, landing hard on the sidewalk.

    I groan, my body aching, but there''s no time to rest. I can hear the distinct whir of his wings as he follows me outside, a dark shadow swooping through the sky.

    I fire a web at a nearby lamppost, using it to slingshot myself back toward him. I aim for his wings, shooting another web to tangle them up, but he anticipates it, twisting in mid-air. His talons flash, slicing the web.

    Crap.

    Before I can react, he grabs me by the shoulders, talons digging into my suit, and we''re airborne. He drags me up, higher and higher, the city streets shrinking beneath us as he climbs. The wind whips around me, and I struggle to break free, kicking and thrashing, but his grip is like iron.

    "You''re out of your depth, Spider-Man," he sneers, voice like the grinding of steel. "This isn''t some street punk you''re dealing with."

    He releases me, and I''m free-falling, plummeting toward the rooftops below. I twist mid-air, barely managing to fire a last-minute webline that stops my fall. My ribs scream in protest, but I swing myself up to the nearest rooftop, landing hard.

    Before I can catch my breath, he''s on me again, slamming into me from above like a missile.

    The force knocks me off my feet, sending me tumbling across the rooftop.

    "I don''t care about the money," he snarls, looming over me as I try to push myself up. "This was a test. And now I see exactly what this suit is capable of."

    He dives again, talons outstretched. I roll to the side, trying to avoid him, but my body''s slowing down. I''m taking hits, and I''m not bouncing back as quickly as I need to. He''s stronger, faster, and every time I move, he''s right there to counter it.

    I swing a punch at him, but he catches my fist mid-air, twisting my arm and sending me crashing to the rooftop. The pain''s blinding. I can barely focus, my vision swimming as I try to get to my feet again.

    "You''re not ready for this," he says, his voice cold and final. And then, with a powerful flap of his wings, he sends me flying off the edge of the roof.

    I crash through the side of an abandoned building, the brick wall crumbling around me as I hit the ground.

    Everything hurts. I try to stand, but my legs won''t hold me. I can barely move, let alone go after him.

    Through the haze of pain, I hear the faint sound of his wings fading into the distance.

    He''s gone.

    I cough, tasting blood as I pull myself up onto my knees. The fight is over, and he got away.

    Did I just lose? I hate it when that happens.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I sit perched on the edge of the rooftop, the city stretching out below me, a patchwork of lights and noise. The weight of my bag hangs off my shoulder as I unzip it, rummaging through the mess to find my phone. A few messages pop up¡ªone from Aunt May, and another from an unknown number.

    Oh crap, Aunt May. I completely forgot.

    I swipe open her message:

    Hey, Peter. Plane got delayed, so I''ll be home either tomorrow night or Saturday morning. Sorry, I know it''s been a while. You must be lonely out there, but I''ll be back soon. I''m sure you''ve been taking great care of the house!

    I let out a long, tired sigh. Part of me is relieved¡ªat least I won''t be grounded for missing her, which, knowing her, would have been wrapped in that disappointed tone of hers that I hate.

    But another part of me feels the weight of loneliness settle in a little deeper. The house has been so quiet without her around, and now it''ll be another day or two before she''s back.

    And it''s not like I can talk to anyone about it. Spider-Man doesn''t get to be lonely, right? He just swings through the city, saving lives and taking punches from guys dressed like birds.

    I sit down on the edge of the roof, letting my legs dangle over the side. My ribs throb with each breath, and my muscles feel like they''re on fire from the fight with... whatever that guy was. Some weird flying villain who nearly tore me apart.

    He said something about this being a test.

    What for? Why me?

    I don''t know what the deal was, but he got away, just like Dr. Octavius did last time. Two major screw-ups in one week. I couldn''t stop them, I can''t keep up.

    Am I even cut out for this?

    My phone buzzes again, pulling me out of my thoughts. It''s the message from the unknown number.

    Had to grab your number from Harry since I didn''t think you''d ever text me. It''s Gwen, btw. Stacy.

    For a second, I just stare at it. My heart does this weird flip, and I can''t help the stupid smile that creeps onto my face. Gwen Stacy¡ªthe girl who could have anyone in the school¡ªtexted me? Out of the blue?

    I lean back, letting the rough surface of the rooftop cool my aching back. The bruises still sting, but for a moment, I don''t care.

    I forget about the fight, about the bird guy, about everything. Gwen''s message makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, today wasn''t a complete disaster after all.

    I type back:

    Hey, Gwen. Sorry, I''ve been so busy lately, I would''ve definitely texted you though! Today was great, thanks for showing me some other cool sides of you. And don''t worry your nerd secret is safe with me.

    I hesitate before sending it, wondering if it sounds too lame, or maybe I typed too much? But before I can second-guess myself, I hit send and drop my phone beside me.

    The city''s still buzzing, even though my world feels quieter tonight. I look out at the horizon, where the last streaks of daylight are fading, replaced by a darker sky.

    As much as I want to just lie here and forget about everything, I know I can''t. There''s always another fight, another threat. Whoever that bird guy was, he''s not done. And something tells me... this was just the beginning.

    I sit up, stretching my sore limbs, and stare down at the streets below.

    Spider-Man doesn''t get breaks. Not for long, anyway.

 Oscorp Lockdown (Part One)

    "A BIRD suit?" Felicia says, her voice carrying that usual mix of sarcasm and amusement as she ties off the last bandage around my waist. "What is it with you super freaks and your ridiculous themes?"

    I wince as I pull my shirt back down over my bandaged torso. "You think I''m choosing these guys? The guy was flying¡ªhad this whole mechanical wingspan thing going on. It was pretty impressive... you know, when I wasn''t busy being thrown through buildings."

    Felicia rolls her eyes, her fingers absently stroking the black cat curled up in her lap. She watches me for a moment before picking up the cat and giving it a kiss on the head. "So, you going back out there to find him or what?" she asks, settling onto her bed with the air of someone who already knows the answer.

    I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. "Not right now. The police scanner''s been quiet, and I doubt that guy''s in a hurry to make another appearance so soon. But... this, right after that whole mess with Dr. Octavius? It''s too close together to be a coincidence. Feels like something bigger''s coming."

    She raises an eyebrow, clearly less concerned than I am. "Or maybe it''s just the usual ''let''s kill Spider-Man'' routine. Maybe they''re forming a line, taking numbers."

    I shake my head, frowning at the window, the city stretching out below us like it always does. But lately, it feels different. Like something''s shifting.

    "It''s not just that." I pause, half-lost in thought. "Sometimes I can''t help but wonder if I can actually do this. I take so many beatings, I''m not even sure if my body can keep up." My thoughts returning to the mystery behind Norman Osborn, and his involvement in all of this, if he even is.

    I don''t even wanna think about it.

    Felicia''s been watching me this whole time, silent, but now her eyes narrow just slightly. "You ever get scared?"

    The question catches me off guard, the bluntness of it. I turn to look at her. Her voice is steady, calm, but there''s a flicker of something¡ªcuriosity, concern?¡ªthat makes me pause.

    "Scared?" I echo. "Of course I do. Every time I step out there. I mean, come on, I''m a high school kid running around in spandex, dodging bullets, getting slammed into walls. I''m slandered every other day in the papers, and let''s not forget pop quizzes are a thing. Scared doesn''t even begin to cover it."

    She tilts her head, still watching, her expression unreadable.

    "But," I continue, "...being scared won''t stop people from getting hurt. Getting beat down won''t stop people from being killed. And so it doesn''t matter if I get scared, or I get beat to a pulp. I''ll stand anyways."

    For a second, I think she''s going to laugh. But she doesn''t. She just looks at me¡ªreally looks at me¡ªand there''s this weird tension in the air, like she''s trying to decide if what I said is brave, or just incredibly stupid.

    "That''s stupid," she finally says, and the tension breaks with a smirk tugging at her lips.

    "Thanks, Felicia," I mutter, rolling my eyes.

    She shrugs. "But... kinda brave too. In a stupid way."

    I can''t help but smile. "You think so?"

    She leans back, her cat purring in her lap. "Yeah, I mean, brave in the same way people who swim with sharks are brave. Y''know, unnecessary but... weirdly admirable."

    "Gee, that''s exactly the kind of validation I needed." I start packing up my stuff, zipping up my suit and bag, trying not to think too much about how sore I''ll be tomorrow. "I''ll grab my own medical supplies next time," I say. "It''s just, y''know, most of the budget goes to web fluid, or fixing my suit, or getting new backpacks, or¡ª"

    She snorts, waving a hand. "Yeah, yeah, save the sob story. Whatever."

    I can''t help but laugh, tossing my bag over my shoulder. But then, as I''m about to head for the window, she hesitates, her tone shifting just slightly. "Hey, about that... job you mentioned at your aunt''s restaurant. Were you serious?"

    I turn to look at her, surprised by the question, I completely even forgotten I told her about that. "You planning on quitting the whole cat burglar thing?"

    She arches an eyebrow. "We had a deal, didn''t we?"

    "Yeah, we did." I nod, a little more serious. "I''ll talk to Aunt May when she gets back."

    "Thanks," she says, and for a moment, it''s almost soft, almost sincere.

    I head toward the window, feeling like maybe this night hasn''t been a complete disaster after all. But before I get too comfortable, Felicia calls out again.

    "See you at the field trip tomorrow."

    I freeze. "Field trip? What field trip?"

    She gives me a look like I''m the dumbest person alive. "To Oscorp? The one the replacement for Dr. Octopus-Man has been yammering about for days?"

    "What?! You''ve gotta be¡ª"

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "¡ªkidding me," Harry says as we shuffle into first period, which, up until recently, was run by the infamous Dr. Otto Octavius. Or, as I like to call him, Octopus-Man. Yeah... probably need to workshop that name a bit more.

    "What''s up?" I ask as we drop into our usual seats.

    Harry sighs, leaning his head on his hand. "The only reason we''re even having this stupid field trip to Oscorp today is because my dad''s trying to save face after that whole Octavius situation."

    A field trip to Oscorp? It gets my brain turning again, that nagging thought about how everything lately seems connected to Oscorp, like an invisible web pulling at the edges. But no matter how much I think about it, I just can''t see Norman Osborn being involved.

    I mean, the guy''s basically a saint. He does charity work for fun, and he''s got a smile that could sell a million puppy calendars. Despite his distance...he''s always been good to Harry... and to me.

    There''s no way. Right?

    My train of thought derails as Felicia walks in, her black hoodie pulled up, slipping into her usual seat at the back. But something''s different. A bruise on her neck? She doesn''t look my way, and the unease settles in my stomach.

    "Dude, I can''t believe she played me," Harry mutters, his eyes on Felicia too. She''s got her headphones on, completely tuned out, like she always does.

    "Played you?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual, but wondering if he''s talking about something more.

    "Yeah, man. I mean I bought her those headphones. And a bunch of other stuff too. She just used me," Harry grumbles, shaking his head. "I mean, if you were dating me, you wouldn''t just be after my money, right?"

    "What else do you have?"

    "Uh, a great taste in pizza?" He grins, looking for a win.

    "Yeah, definitely not that."

    The bell rings, cutting our conversation short, and Ms. Winterhalter strides in. She''s new¡ªyoung, with short black hair and these intense green eyes. She''s still a little shaky after what happened with Octavius. I mean, can you blame her? Her predecessor tried to murder us all, so... yeah, tough shoes to fill.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    "Good morning, class," she says with a nervous but warm smile. "As you know, we''ll be spending the rest of the school day at Oscorp for a tour, so I hope you all packed your lunches."

    I glance over at Gwen. She''s sitting there, listening intently, that same smile on her face she always has when she''s focused.

    No Flash Thompson to interrupt with his insults, no Liz Allen to make fun of me for even thinking about talking to her.

    Maybe today won''t be so ba¡ªwait. Nope. Can''t jinx it. Close one, Parker. Keep it cool.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Everyone piles onto the bus, chatting and laughing as they find their seats. I make my way down the aisle and spot Gwen sitting alone near the back.

    She catches my eye and smiles, giving a little wave. My heart does a quick somersault, and before I can stop myself, Harry elbows me from behind.

    "Go for it, dude," he whispers with a smirk.

    My face heats up. Should I? Sitting next to Gwen Stacy can''t be more terrifying than getting a building dropped on me, right?

    I take a deep breath and walk toward her. "Need any company?" I ask, trying to sound casual, even though my brain is screaming abort, abort.

    Gwen''s smile widens. "What about Harry?"

    I glance back, and sure enough, Harry''s already cozied up next to some girl from our class, probably mid-story about how the building we''re visiting is owned by his dad. Lucky jerk. "Looks like he found someone else to be his bus buddy."

    She pats the seat beside her. "It''s all yours, Mr. Parker."

    I slide into the seat, relieved. "Thanks. Honestly, not sure I could''ve handled the embarrassment if you''d said no." Then, of course, I realize I''ve said that out loud.

    Gwen laughs. "Maybe I should''ve, just to see the look on your face."

    I play along. "I''d probably just start crying."

    That gets another laugh. See? I am funny, villains. Take notes.

    But then Gwen raises an eyebrow. "You never texted me back."

    Uh-oh. I pull out my phone, which is still as shattered as my dignity most days. Sure enough, there''s an unread message from Gwen.

    She''d texted last night asking if I got my grade back. "Oh, man. I''m sorry, Gwen. Last night was... chaotic, and I totally spaced."

    She covers her mouth, laughing. "Peter, relax. You''re acting like you stood me up for prom or something. I was just messing with you. I only wanted to know if you aced the test."

    I let out a breath. "Yeah, thanks to the second-best tutor in the world, I did."

    "Second best?" She gives me a playful look. "I see how it is."

    I grin. "I''m kidding. You''re definitely the best tutor. I don''t think I would''ve passed without you."

    Her smile softens. "Maybe we should be each other''s permanent study partners then."

    My brain short-circuits. "Oh¡ªuh¡ªyeah! I mean, yes! That sounds¡ªuh¡ªyeah, totally!"

    Gwen giggles. "Peter, what is going on with you today? You''re so tense."

    I rub the back of my neck, trying to save face. "I guess... I just get nervous talking to you sometimes."

    Immediately, I want to crawl into the seat and disappear. Was that a stupid thing to say?

    Gwen stares at me for a second, "really?"

    Yep. That was a stupid thing to say.

    "What I meant was¡ª"

    "I get it, Peter," she interrupts, her smile turning warmer.

    "You... do?" I stammer, caught off guard.

    "Yeah, but don''t worry about it. We''re friends now, right? We don''t have to be awkward around each other. I know we didn''t talk much for a while, but I want to change that." She says with a smile.

    Friends, huh?

    "I''d really like that, Gwen," I say, meaning every word.

    She holds out her hand. "Friends?"

    "Friends," I say, shaking her hand with a smile that''s only slightly forced.

    I shouldn''t feel disappointed. We''re finally friends again after all that time apart. I should be happy, right?

    Yeah... totally super happy.

    And I am definitely not lying to myself right now.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The bus pulls up to Oscorp Tower, its sleek, reflective surface catching the morning light as if the building itself was a beacon of the future. The students chatter excitedly, stepping off the bus in a scattered, buzzing group.

    They crane their necks to take in the imposing structure, some even pulling out their phones to snap pictures of the tower''s iconic logo gleaming above.

    But for me, it''s not the awe-inspiring sight that gets to me. It''s the knot of tension winding itself up in my stomach.

    The last time I was here, it wasn''t for a school trip. I was hunting down Dr. Connors¡ªthe Lizard. Battling him upstairs, while trying to help him gain some control over himself. I still have the scars, and the memories of those police officers dead in the sewers...I try not to think about that night often.

    "Earth to Peter," Harry''s voice cuts through my thoughts, followed by his hand snapping in front of my face.

    "Huh? What?" I blink, looking over at him.

    "You''re doing that zoning out thing again." He gives me a lopsided grin, but there''s a weight behind it, something a little darker in his eyes. "C''mon, at least pretend to be interested."

    I glance up at the Oscorp logo, feeling that familiar knot in my chest tighten.

    "Yeah, yeah, I''m listening," I say, forcing a smile. "Who wants to bet on how many times they avoid mentioning Dr. Octavius?"

    Gwen sidles up next to us, elbowing me lightly. "I''ll take five times."

    "You''re on," I say, finally shaking off the weird feeling that''s been lingering since we pulled up. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Felicia hanging back, her hood up, keeping her distance from the group. She hasn''t really talked much all day¡ªthough that''s not exactly new.

    An Oscorp employee in a sharp suit walks up to greet us at the front entrance, clipboard in hand and a professional smile plastered on his face. "Good morning, students! Welcome to Oscorp Industries. I''m Mr. Desmond, and I''ll be your guide for today''s tour. We''re excited to show you some of the groundbreaking advancements we''ve made in evolutionary science and genetic engineering."

    Oh great. The perfect field trip to walk straight into my least favorite topic. We all file inside, the building''s sleek, polished interior reflecting back our excited faces in every glossy surface. I feel like I''m walking into the future¡ªor maybe just another mess waiting to explode.

    "As you all know, Oscorp is at the forefront of cutting-edge research," Mr. Desmond leads us down a hallway lined with displays of DNA models and sleek holographic projections of futuristic tech. "From bioengineering to robotics, we''re constantly pushing the boundaries of human potential."

    I lean closer to Gwen and mutter, "Yeah, ''cause that''s never gone wrong before."

    Gwen bites back a laugh, covering her mouth. "What? You''re not excited to see the future of humanity''s evolution?"

    "Oh, totally," I deadpan. "Maybe this time the hybrid animal thing will be less ''giant lizard'' and more ''friendly neighborhood squirrel.''"

    She bumps her shoulder into mine. "I''m thinking more like... a spider. Just a hunch."

    For a second, my heart does a weird flip, but I force a laugh, playing it off. "Yeah, no thanks, too many legs. Besides, no one even knows if Spider-Man got his powers from Oscorp anyway."

    Gwen grins. "Well, either way, my dad said he saw the Spider-Man yesterday. Apparently, he was fighting some kind of bird guy? I can''t believe he managed to survive being crushed by an entire building."

    Her words hit me harder than I expect, a reminder of my bruised ego after losing to the bird suit guy. "Yeah... I heard about that," I mumble, rubbing the back of my neck.

    Before Gwen can press further, Harry cuts in with a sigh. "What I can''t believe is how my dad couldn''t even bother to show up today."

    Gwen frowns, tilting her head toward him. "Wait, he''s not meeting us here?"

    Harry shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant, but I can hear the hurt in his voice. "Nah. He''s probably off at some charity event or something. Y''know, doing the whole ''great guy'' act."

    I feel a pang of sympathy for Harry. For all Norman Osborn''s public smiles and perfect philanthropist image, the guy''s always distant when it comes to Harry. I reach out and clap Harry on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. "Hey, we don''t need him. We''ll make this fun anyway. Who needs a CEO hanging over our shoulders?"

    "Exactly," Harry mutters, but his disappointment lingers in the air, hanging around him like a cloud.

    As we move further into the facility, Mr. Desmond leads us to a large, futuristic lab space, its walls lined with glowing screens and rotating models of DNA. Holograms flicker to life, showing various stages of human evolution and genetic manipulation. "Here we are, students¡ªOscorp''s Evolutionary Science Lab. This is where we explore the possibilities of enhancing human genetics, helping our species adapt to the challenges of tomorrow."

    The sight of it all hits me hard. I can''t help but think of Dr. Connors again.

    This lab, this research¡ªit was meant to help people, but according to him, it''s the very thing that turned him into something he couldn''t control. And apparently he''s not the only one.

    Gwen leans in close, her voice soft and gentle, like she''s picking up on my mood. "Hey, you okay? You''ve been kinda off since we got here."

    I give her a quick smile, trying to push the memories away. "Yeah, I''m fine. Just... this place brings back a lot of memories. Not all of them great."

    She gives me a knowing look but doesn''t press. "Well, if you need a distraction, I''m here. Or, we could always make Harry sing for us again." She flashes a mischievous grin. "That worked last time, right?"

    I can''t help but laugh, remembering the karaoke disaster that nearly took out our eardrums. "I''ll have to pass on that one thanks."

    "I heard that," Harry says from ahead of us, turning with a mock glare.

    We all laugh together, the tension lifting for a moment. It feels normal, like we''re just a group of friends on a regular school trip. But as Mr. Desmond keeps talking about Oscorp''s "vision for the future," I can''t help but keep one eye on Felicia. She''s still hanging back, detached, her expression unreadable.

    Gwen catches me glancing at her and raises an eyebrow. "You ever going to talk to her? Or just keep staring like a creeper?"

    "I''m not staring," I say, though my cheeks flush. "It''s just... she''s been off lately. More than usual."

    Gwen nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, she definitely gives off that whole ''mysterious loner'' vibe. Kinda like that comic I showed you, Miss Fury. But maybe you should, I don''t know, try talking to her?"

    I sigh. "It''s not that simple. Felicia''s... complicated."

    "Most interesting people are," Gwen says with a smile, nudging me again. "But I''m pretty sure even complicated people need friends."

    Her words stick with me as the tour continues. Maybe Gwen''s right.

    Maybe I should try and reach out to her, more than just needing her help when I need to get patched up. But as actual friends.

    An hour passes, and we eventually break for lunch. Gwen, Harry, and I sit at a table in Oscorp''s cafeteria, and I''ve got to admit, the food here is lightyears ahead of the disaster Mid-Town serves us.

    Not that it''s a high bar¡ªlast week, they found worms in the pasta.

    "So, Harry," Gwen starts, chewing on her sandwich, "are you taking anyone to homecoming?"

    Harry smirks, leaning back in his chair. "Probably Peter," he jokes, earning a laugh from Gwen. "What? We''ve been each other''s dates for every school dance. It''s not like he has many other options."

    "Funny." I say, tapping my fingers on the table, trying to ignore the slight sting of truth in his words.

    Gwen smiles at me, her eyes playful. "I don''t know, I think Peter could find someone. He''s a pretty great tutor. I hear that''s what all the girls are into these days."

    "Oh yeah, I''m sure," I say, rolling my eyes. "Every girl''s dream¡ªsomeone they can get to do their homework."

    Harry snorts, while Gwen just shrugs with a grin.

    But out of the corner of my eye, I see Felicia slipping away from the cafeteria, heading down a corridor that seems off-limits.

    "Hey, Harry," I ask, leaning toward him, "where are the bathrooms?"

    He glances up, pointing in the complete opposite direction from where Felicia just went. "Over there."

    I frown. That''s not where she was headed.

    "I''ll be right back," I say, standing up. Gwen and Harry both give me puzzled looks, but I wave it off and slip away from the table, keeping my head down as I follow Felicia''s path.

    The hallway I enter feels different¡ªquieter, darker. Oscorp''s usual pristine, high-tech atmosphere fades as I move deeper into the restricted area, the sounds of the cafeteria growing distant behind me.

    It''s abandoned, empty.

    My footsteps echo off the sterile walls as I round a corner and spot an open door. Inside, standing casually by a table, is Felicia.

    "Lost?" I ask, leaning against the doorframe. She turns, her expression hard at first, but softening when she sees it''s me.

    "What are you doing here, Parker?" she asks, tugging her hood a little higher, trying to stay hidden.

    I step inside, narrowing my eyes. "Funny, I could ask you the same thing. You''re not supposed to be here either. You''re... taking stuff, aren''t you?"

    A sly smile spreads across her lips. "No, Parker. I''m stealing stuff."

    My stomach tightens. "Felicia, this isn''t a joke. Do you realize what you''re doing? If you get caught, they could expel you, or worse¡ªpress charges. You said you were done with this kind of thing. What happened?"

    She scoffs, the smile fading. "Yeah, well, things change."

    That''s when I notice the bruise again¡ªthe one she''s been hiding with that oversized hood. "Does this... have something to do with that bruise you''ve been covering up?" My voice softens, and I take a tentative step closer.

    Felicia''s eyes flicker, her defenses momentarily dropping. "Yeah, well, I ran out of makeup after covering all your bruises," she mutters, shoving her hands into her pockets.

    I hesitate, then gently reach for her hood, pulling it back as she stiffens. My fingers brush her hair aside, revealing the full extent of the bruise¡ªan angry, dark purple splotch staining her pale skin. It''s not the kind of mark you get from an accident. Someone did this to her.

    "Felicia," I say quietly, my stomach twisting, "who did this to you?"

    She slaps my hand away before I can say more, her voice sharp, like a blade cutting through the tension. "Don''t, Parker. I''m not one of your charity cases. I don''t need saving."

    "I''m not trying to¡ª"

    Before I can finish, the lights around us flicker, then cut out entirely. The soft hum of the building''s electronics is replaced by the blaring wail of alarms, echoing through the hallway. Thick, steel shutters slam down over the windows with a loud hiss, sealing us inside.

    Felicia''s eyes widen, her posture immediately alert. "What the hell is going on?"

    I take a step toward the door, peering out into the hallway as my pulse races. "I don''t know, but it can''t be good."

 Oscorp Lockdown (Part Two)

    THE air is tense, the sudden shift in atmosphere making it feel like we''ve just walked into a trap. I glance back at Felicia, her usual cool exterior cracking just a bit as the alarms continue to blare around us.

    "Great," she mutters, her voice laced with frustration. "Just what we needed."

    I open my phone, wondering if Harry texted me about if they were planning on having some sort of drill or something.

    But there''s no signal...is that normal for a lockdown? No, obviously not.

    "We should get back to the others," I whisper urgently. Felicia nods, and we slip out into the hallway, moving fast but careful.

    When we reach the doors leading back to the cafeteria, I freeze.

    Voices¡ªmuffled but tense¡ªdrift from the other side. I motion for Felicia to stay quiet and slowly crack the door open, peeking through the small gap. She ducks under my arm, pressing her head next to mine to get a better view.

    A man''s voice cuts through the room, cold and commanding. "Don''t move. Won''t get killed. How''s that work for you? I just need you all to be my...well...hostages for a little bit, until I figure out how to get this security system down."

    I hear the heavy, metallic clank of his boots as he walks between the terrified students. I recognize him immediately. My stomach tightens.

    "It''s him," I whisper. "The bird guy."

    Felicia shifts beside me, glancing at the scene beyond the door. Everyone''s on the floor, shaking as he stalks through the room, exuding a terrifyingly calm demeanor. Felicia gives me a sideways glance.

    "That doesn''t look anything like a bird, Peter."

    "Uh... hello? Bird wings?" I gesture vaguely toward him.

    Felicia arches an eyebrow, unimpressed. "More like a vulture. You can tell by the that like beak mask thing he''s wearing, and the feather pattern on his wings."

    I blink at her, momentarily thrown. "How do you¡ª?"

    "I watch a lot of Animal Planet," she mutters with a shrug. But her tone doesn''t match her usual sarcasm.

    My mind races. Why is he here? Did he track me down? Does he know who I am? I squint at the Vulture, trying to gauge his intentions, but there''s nothing clear in his movements¡ªjust a predatory calm.

    "I just need to grab something," the "Vulture" guy says, his voice low but firm. "And I''ll be out of your hair. Shouldn''t be a problem, right?"

    Ms. Winterhalter''s voice trembles from the corner of the room. She''s shielding a terrified girl with her arm. "Please, whatever you do, don''t hurt these children. They have nothing to do with what you want. We''ll comply, but please... don''t hurt them."

    The Vulture gives a short, almost dismissive laugh. "Don''t worry. Like I told you, I''m not here to hurt anyone. I just want¡ªwell I''m not gonna tell you what I want but just know it doesn''t involve killing kids." His tone doesn''t exactly inspire confidence, but at least for now, no one''s being hurt.

    I feel a small wave of relief wash over me, but the question still lingers¡ªif he''s not here for Spider-Man, what is he after? Mr. Osborn? Is this about Oscorp?

    "Hey, Peter," Felicia whispers, nudging me with her elbow. "Don''t you think it''s time to suit up?" She mimics shooting webs from her wrist.

    "I want to," I whisper back, anxiety creeping into my voice, "but my bag''s still over at the table." I glance toward the far side of the cafeteria, where my backpack sits, completely out of reach. "And even if I did suit up, it''s too risky. This would be the third time Spider-Man''s saved these students. Someone would start putting the pieces together. If they figure out Spider-Man goes to Midtown High¡ªfigure out it''s me¡ªeveryone I care about will be in danger."

    Felicia''s eyes soften slightly. "So what, you''re just gonna sit this one out?"

    My mind flashes to Gwen, to Harry, to all the students lying on the floor, vulnerable. I can''t let him hurt anyone. But if I blow my cover now...

    Before I can finish weighing my options, the cafeteria doors burst open with a deafening crash. Armed guards storm into the room, rifles raised, their movements swift and coordinated.

    The Vulture straightens, turning toward the new threat, his mechanical wings twitching slightly. His calm demeanor shifts into something colder, more calculating.

    Not good.

    "Stay low," I hiss to Felicia, already searching for another plan, another way to stop this without blowing my identity.

    The moment the guards storm in, the room explodes into chaos. I freeze, eyes locked on the Vulture as he turns toward them, a wicked gleam in his eyes. His wings flare out¡ªsharp, metallic, and deadly.

    "Stand down!" one of the guards shouts, but I know it''s useless. The Vulture doesn''t even flinch. His body crouches, tensing like a coiled spring, and then¡ªboom¡ªhe rockets into the air, wings slicing through the air with a deadly hiss.

    Chairs and tables scatter as if they weigh nothing, and the guards start shooting, but their bullets might as well be spitballs for all the good they''re doing.

    I barely have time to blink before the first guard goes down, the Vulture''s talons sinking into his chest with a wet crunch. The guy lets out a scream that rips through the cafeteria, echoing in my ears as the Vulture spins him around and slams him into a pillar, his body crumpling like a rag doll. Blood splatters across the floor.

    I feel my stomach churn, but I can''t look away.

    The other guards try to regroup, but they don''t stand a chance. The Vulture swoops down, wings outstretched like some demon bird of prey, catching two of them in a single brutal sweep.

    One guy''s leg is almost severed, blood spraying everywhere as he collapses. The other? He''s thrown back so hard I hear his bones crack from across the room.

    The cafeteria fills with screams¡ªthe students, Ms. Winterhalter''s, everyone watching in horror as the Vulture rips through the guards.

    There''s nothing anyone can do. He grabs one by the throat, lifts him into the air, and snaps his neck like he''s breaking a twig. His wings slice through another guard, leaving nothing but blood and mangled limbs behind.

    It''s a massacre.

    I stand there, fists clenched, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it''s going to explode.

    I want to move. I need to move. But I don''t. I can''t. Not like this. If I suit up, if I stop him as Spider-Man, everyone will know. Gwen, Harry¡ªeveryone. It''ll all be over. They''ll figure out who I am, and that puts them in danger.

    But watching this... watching him tear people apart?

    It''s tearing me apart.

    The Vulture lands in the middle of the carnage, blood dripping from his wings, calm and collected like he''s admiring his handiwork.

    The guards? All dead or dying. And the students... I can feel their terror. See it in their eyes. They''re just kids. We''re just kids.

    But I''m standing here, doing nothing.

    My hands shake, fury boiling inside me. I could stop this right now. I could end him. But I can''t. Not without giving everything away. And then everyone I care about...

    But maybe... maybe I don''t have to do this as Spider-Man.

    I glance at the Vulture''s suit, those wings. They''re fast, too fast for anyone here to deal with, but they''re mechanical.

    Powered by tech. My brain clicks into overdrive. There''s got to be a weakness. Something I can use. The suit, the wings, the power... there''s always a flaw in the design.

    I lock my gaze on the small power source attached to his back. That''s it. The suit''s running off some kind of external power pack. If I can disable it, even for a second, it might be enough to take him down.

    Felicia gives me a concerned look but doesn''t push it.

    I scan the room, thinking. Fast. Oscorp. In the tour earlier they showed us they were working on some kind of electromagnetic pulse tech, something for emergencies.

    Portable, too. If I can get my hands on one of those prototypes... I might be able to fry his suit, just for long enough to get the upper hand. But where?

    "Stay here," I whisper to Felicia, not waiting for a response.

    I take off, racing down the hallway we came from, my footsteps pounding in sync with my racing thoughts. I jump through a vent, crawling back through until I enter one of the hallways we''d been in earlier on the tour, my mind flicks through everything we saw earlier, every room, every piece of tech.

    Where could they be keeping it? Because if I don''t hurry and stop him, more people are going to die.

    And I''m not going to let that happen.

    I move fast, sticking to the ceiling as I dart through the hallway, avoiding the groups of guards running toward the cafeteria.

    They''re charging headfirst into a slaughter, and I know they won''t stand a chance. My heartbeat hammers in my ears, but I push the panic down. Focus. I just need to find the right tech.

    I drop down silently in front of a door that reads Restricted Access¡ªthe kind of room Oscorp would hide its more experimental stuff in. Bingo. I slip inside, scanning the shelves, cables, and devices stacked in chaotic disarray.

    The faint hum of electronics fills the air, and that''s when I spot it¡ªa small, handheld device that looks like it could fry tech. Perfect. An EMP, just like I thought.

    I grab it, flipping it over in my hands. It''s small, compact, but... limited. I frown. This thing won''t take down the Vulture''s suit for more than a few seconds. Not enough time. I need more power, something stronger.

    I glance around the room, eyes landing on a bunch of Oscorp tech scattered across a workbench.

    Tools, parts, unfinished prototypes. My mind races, pieces coming together like the puzzle Uncle Ben and I used to work on in the garage.

    We used to build all kinds of stuff together¡ªsimple things, but always practical. Ben had a way of looking at scraps and turning them into something useful. I can do this. I have to do this.

    I rip into the EMP, pulling out wires, capacitors, anything I can salvage. Then I start pulling parts from the other tech in the room¡ªpower supplies, amplifiers, everything I need to boost this thing.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    My fingers move on their own, muscle memory kicking in from all those hours tinkering with Ben. It''s almost comforting, the way it comes together. But the urgency keeps me sharp.

    The screams from the cafeteria echo in my head, pushing me to work faster.

    I can''t let anyone else die. I can''t.

    Minutes blur by, and finally, the device is ready. It''s bulkier than before, more powerful, but I''ve reinforced it enough that it should take down the Vulture''s entire suit for longer than a few seconds. It''s got to work.

    I race back down the hall, clutching the makeshift device in my hand, and slip back into the cafeteria as quietly as I can.

    The scene that greets me makes my stomach drop. The Vulture is holding one of the surviving guards by the throat, hoisting him into the air like he weighs nothing. The guy''s face is turning purple, his feet kicking wildly.

    "Where''s Osborn?" the Vulture growls, his mechanical voice distorted by the suit. "Tell me how to unlock this security system!"

    "I-I don''t know!" the man chokes out, but the Vulture doesn''t seem to care.

    The students are huddled together, paralyzed with fear.

    Gwen and Harry are among them, their eyes wide with horror. Gwen catches sight of me first, her expression one of pure confusion. I meet her gaze, trying to look as scared as they all are. It isn''t hard. I am scared¡ªscared for them, for everyone in this room. If I screw this up, it''s over.

    The Vulture notices me, his gaze snapping toward me. His mechanical wings hiss as they retract slightly. "Where the hell did you come from?" he asks, his grip tightening on the guard.

    "I-I was in the bathroom," I stammer, trying to sound as panicked as possible. Ms. Winterhalter''s voice cuts through the tension, her tone frantic.

    "Peter, stay back! Get out of here!" she yells, her hand outstretched as if she could somehow pull me to safety.

    I see the Vulture start to move toward me, his wings flexing as if ready to strike. I glance down at the device hidden behind my back. This is it. Now or never.

    With a shaky breath, I press the button.

    A low hum fills the air, and suddenly, the Vulture''s suit jerks and sputters. Sparks fly from the joints of his wings as the power source cuts out. His grip on the guard loosens, and the man falls to the ground, gasping for air. The Vulture stumbles, his wings twitching, losing balance. It''s working. I actually did it.

    But then, just as quickly as it started, the device in my hand flickers and dies. My heart sinks. I didn''t account for the power drain. It wasn''t enough.

    The Vulture''s wings roar back to life, the mechanical hum deafening as they snap open wide. He turns toward me, his eyes narrowing through the beak-like mask.

    "You little punk," he growls, taking a menacing step forward. "You''re dead."

    Panic surges through me. I can feel Gwen and Harry staring at me, and all I can think about is how I''ve just made things worse.

    The Vulture''s coming for me now, and my device is fried. There''s no more hiding.

    I crash to the ground, my back hitting hard as the Vulture''s grip tightens around my collar, lifting me effortlessly off the floor. I can barely breathe as his cold, mechanical talons dig into my shirt, pinning me in place like I''m nothing.

    "What did you just do to me, you little shit?" His voice is a low, dangerous growl, his mask inches from my face. I can feel the malice radiating off him, and the world around me seems to blur.

    "P-Peter!" I hear Harry shout from across the room, his voice shaking. I turn my head just enough to see him standing, fists clenched, but his eyes wide with fear. "L-Let him go! I''m the son of Norman Osborn. I''m worth more to you than he is!"

    No, no, no... "Ha-Harry...no," I gasp, choking on my own breath. "Don''t..."

    Vulture''s attention shifts, and I feel the cold grip loosen. He drops me, and I collapse to the floor, wheezing, my lungs desperate for air.

    "Ah... little Osborn Jr, huh?" Vulture says, turning his full focus on Harry now. His voice drips with cruel amusement as he sizes Harry up.

    I know that look. It''s a predator''s stare, calculating, deciding how much this piece is worth on the board. Harry tries to stand tall, to hold his ground, but I can see it¡ªthe subtle tremor in his hands, the way his jaw clenches just a little too tight. He''s terrified.

    Vulture takes a step closer to Harry. "Then you and me are gonna go on a little trip. Won''t hurt to keep you around just in case I need to start making some demands."

    No. No, no, no. Not Harry.

    I reach out, desperation fueling me, and grab onto one of Vulture''s legs. "Don''t touch him," the words barely leave my mouth, but they''re all I can manage.

    Vulture glances down at me, his expression unreadable behind that mask. With a flick of his arm, he yanks me up again, this time gripping me by the front of my shirt. "I don''t know how you managed to mess with my suit before," He shakes me roughly. "But your friend here just saved your life. You''d take care to remember that."

    Then, with a casual toss, he hurls me across the room.

    I skid across the floor, my body bouncing like a rag doll, stopping only when I slam into something hard. Pain shoots through my limbs, and for a moment, everything goes black.

    "Peter!" Gwen''s voice cuts through the fog in my mind. She''s kneeling beside me in seconds, her hands gripping my shoulders. "Are you okay?"

    I blink, trying to clear the haze. I manage to push myself up just enough to see Harry, standing alone, defiant but trembling as Vulture moves toward him.

    "No..." I mutter, but it''s too late.

    Vulture''s wings extend with a sickening whoosh, and he lunges forward, grabbing Harry in a flash. I try to get up, try to do something¡ªanything¡ªbut I''m too slow.

    "Harry!" I shout, but my voice cracks as rubble rains down from the ceiling when Vulture bursts through it, taking Harry with him. The building shakes, dust and debris falling around us, as if the world is collapsing under the weight of my failure.

    Gwen pulls me up, her eyes wide and filled with panic. "Peter..."

    But I can''t hear her. All I can think about is how I let my best friend get taken. How I was too weak to stop it. How I failed.

    "Peter, are you okay?" Ms. Winterhalter rushes over, her hands frantic as she inspects me, checking for injuries before I can even respond to Gwen. "My God, I''m so sorry. I can''t believe I let this happen to you."

    "Ma''am, it''s okay, really, I''m fine." I try to assure her, but Gwen''s voice cuts through.

    "No, it''s not. What were you doing? Peter, you could''ve been killed." Her eyes are wide with panic, and I can hear the tremor in her voice. "I... I was scared, Peter. I thought he was going too..."

    "It''s okay. I''m fine now." I repeat, trying to sound more confident, but the worry doesn''t leave her face.

    Ms. Winterhalter glances up at the ceiling, the weight of despair hanging heavily in her expression. "Harry. I let one of my students get taken on my first week as your teacher." Her voice trembles as she bites her lip, fighting back tears. "I... I couldn''t do anything for him."

    "Don''t worry, ma''am. He won''t hurt Harry." I say, hoping to calm her fears. "He needs him."

    She manages a weak smile before turning back to the other students, checking to see they''re okay.

    "Peter, what was that thing you had?" Gwen asks, her eyes catching the device I had dropped on the ground.

    I turn to see it untouched, and a wave of relief washes over me.

    Thank god for stupid villains, he left it there. "It''s... it''s just something I found. I heard what was going on, so I thought I could help. So much for that." My voice is somber, the memory of fear on Harry''s face still fresh in my mind. "But if I can find a way to give it more power, I can shut that guy''s suit down long enough for one of the Oscorp guys to take him out of it and arrest him."

    Gwen''s eyes widen, and I can see the fear spike within her. "What do you mean? You''re not planning to... go after that guy, right? I mean, that''s just crazy. You can''t do that; he''ll kill you!"

    I turn to face her fully, feeling the weight of her gaze. I can''t even imagine the horror she''s been through, seeing everything unravel in front of her. "I know it''s dangerous, but I have to try."

    "No, Peter, you can''t do that. Please." Her eyes plead with me, and I feel a sharp pang in my chest. "You''re just a kid. Let the police handle this."

    "The police won''t stop him before he gets what he wants or hurts someone else." I say, my voice steady but filled with uncertainty. "I''m scared too, Gwen. I wish there was another way, but he''s got my best friend."

    She looks away, her face tightening. "This is just... crazy." Her voice quakes, and I can see tears welling in her eyes. "I wish my dad were here. He''d know exactly what to do."

    Yeah, I wish he was here too.

    "If he were here, he''d probably do everything he could to stop that guy," I tell her, trying to comfort her, but she scoffs, wiping her eyes.

    "Yeah, he probably would." A small smile breaks through her tears, but it doesn''t reach her eyes.

    I notice Ms. Winterhalter tending to the other students, panic etched on their faces, especially her own. "Just... keep her distracted, and make sure she doesn''t realize I''m gone. And you stay out of harm''s way too."

    "Wait, but..." Gwen begins, but I cut her off.

    "I''ll be fine. And so will Harry," I reassure her.

    "At least let me come with you. I can... I can watch your back or something." Her determination shines through, and I can''t help but smile at the brave face she''s trying to put on. She''s just like her dad.

    "No way, that''s too dangerous." I tell her, but she shakes her head fiercely.

    "How do you think I feel when you say you want to go do something about that monster? You''re my friend, Peter. I don''t want to see you get hurt." I can see the deep concern in her eyes, and it hits me hard.

    Dying now would really suck, especially when we just became friends again.

    "I''m scared, okay? Really scared. I-I''ve never done anything like this," I feel bad for the way I''m lying, but she can''t go thinking that I''m some selfless hero. "...but he''s got Harry. So, I can''t just sit here." I try to sound firm, but I know my voice wavers just a bit.

    Gwen sighs, her shoulders slumping. "Fine, Peter. But promise me you and Harry will come back safely."

    "Come on, I''m the best tutor in the world, remember?" I flash a smile, and she returns it, nudging me lightly.

    "Second best," she shoots back.

    I nod, feeling a warmth spreading in my chest. She hugs me tightly, and I''m caught off guard¡ªGwen Stacy is hugging me? Like a real hug? My face heats up faster than a microwave, and I just know if Harry were here, he''d be giving me that stupid grin of his.

    "Come back," she says, pulling away, her eyes searching mine. I nod, my heart racing.

    "Yeah," I reply, then rush over to the device, turning back to make sure Ms. Winterhalter doesn''t notice I''m gone. I push the doors open and begin my way to the top floor, where I know the Vulture will be waiting.

    I''m terrified, but I have to do this. For Harry. For Gwen. For everyone.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I slip out of the stairwell onto the next floor, my heart pounding as I scan the area for any sign of the Vulture. The building feels eerily quiet, save for the distant sounds of chaos.

    I instinctively check the ceiling for holes that the Vulture had flown up from, each one a potential clue to find out where he''s taken Harry. I note a few jagged openings that suggest a battle took place above me. Looks like I''m getting closer.

    As I venture further into the floors, the atmosphere shifts. This floor doesn''t have a hole above it, meaning the Vulture is somewhere here.

    The faint smell of smoke and metal fills the air. I creep down the hallway, and dread coils in my stomach as I pass by several bodies of Oscorp guards, their lifeless forms sprawled across the floor.

    I kneel by one, hoping against hope that he''s merely unconscious. I check his pulse but find nothing.

    Each fallen guard I see twists the knife deeper into my heart. They never stood a chance against the Vulture.

    I need something¡ªanything¡ªthat could help power my device. I push forward, glancing into offices and rooms, desperate for a solution.

    Finally, I spot a room with its door hanging ajar, the loss of power in the building allowing the darkness to swallow the space. I slip inside, my breath catching in my throat at the sight before me.

    Documents clutter the desks, stacked haphazardly and spilling onto the floor. I scan them quickly: photos of the Lizard, documents outlining suit blueprints for the Scorpion, DNA samples labeled from the Rhino.

    My stomach drops further as I realize these are all remnants of experiments, things I never wanted to be part of. And there, glinting in the dim light, are the Goblin pills I helped stop from being shipped out, previously associated with the Shocker.

    But it''s the sight of a set of mechanical arms, a lesser version of what Dr. Octavius used, that holds my attention.

    Then beside that...lies a schematics folder labeled "Spider." My heart races¡ªthis is the very spider that bit me. I remember that day vividly, the curious thrill of wandering these halls with Harry, only to stumble into something that changed my life forever.

    I quickly flip through a folder marked "Project Reinvention." My fingers tremble as I take pictures with my phone, realizing with each snap that Norman Osborn, or at least Oscorp, has orchestrated the chaos in my life. My mind races with implications, the weight of this knowledge pressing down on me.

    I can''t focus on this right now. Not right now.

    I need to hurry.

    I glance to the side and spot a pair of gauntlets that resemble the ones used by the Shocker.

    I bolt over to them, my mind already racing with ideas. I pull my EMP device from my pocket, hastily modifying the gauntlets to integrate the EMP''s power, hoping this combo can take the Vulture down for good.

    With the makeshift gauntlets now ready, I rush out of the room and search every door on this floor, my breath quickening with each passing second. I can feel the urgency in my veins; I need to find Harry.

    I finally come across a room that looks like it''s been broken into.

    My heart drops as I see Harry on the ground, seemingly knocked out. "Harry," I whisper urgently, rushing over to him.

    But before I can react, the Vulture steps into view, a briefcase clutched tightly in his hands, his eyes narrowing as he spots me. Rage ignites in his expression, and he lunges toward me.

    I barely think¡ªadrenaline surges as I raise the modified gauntlets and fire off a blast. The energy slams into the Vulture, hoping it''s enough to make his suit short out, as it flickers with erratic sparks.

    The Vulture stumbles but manages to steady himself, rage burning in his eyes.

    "You again?!" he roars, staggering as he tries to get his bearings. "I should''ve¡ª"

    Before he can finish, I fire another blast from the gauntlets, locking him in place with a surge of energy. "What did you do to, Harry?!" I shout, glancing toward my friend, who''s still lying motionless on the ground. The Vulture''s suit crackles as I hit him with another charge, but I can see he''s weakening.

    He drops to his knees, yanking off his mask to reveal his face. The man is old, way older than I expected. His features are hardened with age and a life that''s seen too much. "You... really are a pain in my ass," he mutters, gasping for breath. He fumbles with a hidden button on his suit, and the wings retract with a sharp metallic hiss, leaving him sprawled on the floor.

    Without his suit, he''s just a guy, vulnerable, but still dangerous. "But you''re just a kid," he sneers, his voice trembling. "And once I take care of you, I''ll finish what I started."

    I take a step back, heart racing. The gauntlets I rigged up aren''t meant for serious damage, just enough to disable his tech. I fixed them for that reason¡ªto avoid crossing a line. "Why?" I ask, my voice low but firm. "Why are you doing this? Why hurt all those people?"

    The Vulture gives a harsh laugh, his voice dripping with malice. "Wouldn''t you like to know." With a sudden burst of speed, he lunges at me, his hands outstretched.

    "Crap!" I fake a stumble, throwing him off balance just enough. As he hesitates, I lazily drive my fist into his stomach, hard, but not so hard to where I shatter his bones, although the impact sends him flying back into a desk, the wood splintering under his weight as he slams into it, unconscious.

    I stand there for a moment, catching my breath. "Sorry about that," I mutter under my breath, hands still shaking from the adrenaline. "I can be a little clumsy."

    Stepping toward him, I glance at the desk he crashed into, and something catches my eye¡ªDr. Otto Octavius.

    The name, engraved on a brass plate, sends a chill down my spine. This was Octavius''s office. Was the Vulture here to steal something from him, or was this something they planned together? My mind races with possibilities.

    I check on Harry, kneeling beside him. He''s breathing, thank God. Vulture must''ve just knocked him unconscious.

    As the adrenaline starts to wear off, I feel exhaustion set in. I back up against the wall, sliding down to the floor.

    My mind races with everything that just happened, the Vulture''s words, this room... what they''re all after.

    My eyes land on a glass of water on a nearby drawer, and an idea¡ªadmittedly a stupid one¡ªcrosses my mind.

    If I''m going to sell the whole "I''m just a kid in over my head" thing, I might as well go all in. I grab the glass and pour it on my lap, the cold water soaking into my pants. Perfect. Now I look like I wet myself from fear.

    God, I hate having a secret identity.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The doors of Oscorp finally slide open, revealing a chaotic scene outside¡ªparents, cops, and media all swarming the entrance. Students rush out, seeking the safety of their parents'' arms, but I just sit there, a pathetic smile tugging at my lips.

    Harry claps a hand on my shoulder, pulling me into a quick hug. "Hey, man. Everything''s okay. We made it," he says, his voice full of relief. "We''re okay."

    I nod, half-smiling.

    But then Harry pulls back, looking a little awkward. "Uh... probably a bad time to hug you. No offense, but, uh... don''t wanna get pee all over me." He chuckles, but I just sigh, remembering the ridiculous story I had to sell to the guards.

    According to my official version, I went up there to help, heard an explosion, and found the Vulture already knocked out. The gauntlets? Apparently, they malfunctioned and blew up.

    And me? I got so scared I... well, you know. Classic Puny Parker.

    I doubt I''ll ever live this one down.

    "It''s okay, no offense taken," I reply, trying for a smile, even though it feels more awkward than reassuring.

    "Peter," Gwen''s voice cuts in softly, her expression earnest. "What you did was still brave. Really."

    Before I can respond, a booming voice shouts, "Gwen! Gwen!" It''s Captain Stacy, barreling through the crowd. He wraps Gwen in a tight hug, relief etched in every line of his face. "Oh, God... you''re okay!" Tears well in Gwen''s eyes as she clings to her dad, and for a moment, everything feels warm, safe.

    But then I turn to Harry. His face is darker, his smile gone. I glance around, searching, but there''s no sign of Norman Osborn anywhere. My hands clench into fists as questions flood my mind. How deep was Norman in all of this? Was he behind the drugs? The attacks? All these lives ruined? I need to know the truth.

    Harry steps back, his voice quiet. "Hey, uh... I''m gonna go make a call." I watch as he walks away, a sinking feeling in my chest. Whatever he''s dealing with, it''s heavy. And I''m not sure how to help him with it.

    As I scan the area, I spot Felicia sitting alone. I walk over, unsure how to start, but she beats me to it. "So," she says, raising an eyebrow. "You pissed your pants?"

    My face burns with embarrassment. "No! I just... had to make it look that way. I couldn''t risk anyone asking too many questions."

    For a second, Felicia just stares at me blankly. Then, to my surprise, a smile tugs at her lips. It grows and grows until she bursts into laughter, loud and carefree.

    I can''t help but grin back, even if it is at my expense. "You''re one strange guy, Parker. But I gotta admit, I''m impressed. Making yourself look like a loser while secretly being the hero? Not bad."

    I smile genuinely this time, thankful that at least one person gets it. "Thanks, Felicia. I''m just glad you''re okay. I wouldn''t have wanted to see you get hurt."

    Her expression softens for a moment, surprised by my sincerity. But then she quirks a sly smile. "What, you got a crush, Parker?"

    I roll my eyes, a little embarrassed but not taking the bait. "Keep dreaming."

    With that, we head back toward where Ms. Winterhalter is waiting by the bus, away from the chaos of flashing cameras and police chatter.

    Ms. Winterhalter gives me a stern look, like she''s still not over the fact that I snuck off twice during this whole ordeal. But instead of a lecture, she pulls both Felicia and me into a hug. "I''m glad you''re all safe. Let''s get you back home," she says.

    Felicia and I board the bus. Most of the other kids had already left with their parents, and it looks like it''s just us, Ms. Winterhalter, and the driver heading back to school.

    I glance around for Harry, but he''s nowhere to be seen. He must''ve gone back inside, probably waiting for Norman.

    Felicia takes the seat across from me, popping in her headphones and staring out the window, while I sit in silence, watching the Oscorp building grow smaller as we drive away.

    There''s so much still unanswered, so much still hanging in the air. But for now, at least, we''re going home.

 Power Surge

    I''M sitting at the kitchen table, fingers drumming out a rhythm I don''t even recognize anymore. It''s been three weeks since Aunt May left, but honestly, it feels like forever.

    The house is quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that creeps under your skin and reminds you just how alone you really are. Not even the sound of passing cars can break it.

    I keep staring at the clock, as if it''s counting down to something.

    Maybe to when she finally walks through that door, or maybe to when I lose it and swing out of here just to feel like I''m not suffocating. Either way, it''s ticking too slow for my taste.

    In the background, the TV is going. I keep forgetting to turn it off¡ªMay usually reminds me to do that.

    The news anchors are yammering on, something, but the words barely register until I hear the name "Harry Osborn."and class of Mid-Town students getting caught in a hostage situation yesterday afternoon. I grab the remote turning up the volume.

    "... the standoff ended around 2:34 PM when 44-year-old Adrian Toomes was apprehended. Harry Osborn, son of billionaire CEO Norman Osborn, was among those held during the incident."

    My stomach twists. Adrian Toomes. The Vulture.

    I listen attentively, thankful they don''t feel the need to mention the boy who''d pissed himself. Although I still don''t understand the connection between this Adrian guy, and Dr. Octavius...and for that matter Norman Osborn himself.

    Everything seemed to be connected, and everything I saw in that room proves it.

    That includes me and my powers, and I''m stuck in the middle of it all, barely keeping my head above water.

    It makes me think, though. Who would I have been without all of this?

    Without Aunt May and Uncle Ben? What if I didn''t have them to ground me? Would I be like these guys¡ªtwisted by power, lost in revenge? The thought hits harder than it should, and I shake it off, trying to focus.

    The doorbell rings, snapping me out of my head. I jump a little. Not very Spider-Man-like, but whatever.

    I hit the mute button and head over to the door. The second I crack it open, it swings wide, and I''m pulled into a hug so tight I feel all the aches in my body tense up.

    "Peter," she says, her voice shaky, and I can feel her hands gripping the back of my shirt like she''s scared I might disappear. "Oh, Peter. I''m so sorry. I should''ve been here. I should''ve never let anything else come before you."

    I blink, trying to process the fact that she''s actually here, right in front of me. Aunt May pulls back just enough to cup my face in her hands, her thumbs brushing my cheeks as she looks at me. The worry in her eyes is clear as day, and for a second, I almost want to tell her everything. Every fight, every bruise, every time I''ve felt like I was two seconds away from not coming home.

    But then I stop myself. I look into her eyes, and I realize why I can''t. Why I''ll never be able to.

    She''s been through enough, and telling her the truth would just make things worse.

    How do you tell someone like Aunt May that the person she raised is risking his life every night, and that every one night...he may not come home at all.

    Instead, I do the only thing I can think of. I pull her into another hug, tighter this time, burying my face in her shoulder like I''m five years old again. "I missed you," I say, the words catching in my throat.

    She freezes for a second, like she wasn''t expecting that, then hugs me back, even tighter than before. "Oh, kiddo. Me too," she says softly.

    We just stand there, wrapped up in this little bubble of calm. For once, it feels like the world isn''t crashing down around me. It''s just me and May, like it used to be, before everything got so...complicated.

    But even as I hold her, I can''t shake this feeling. Guilt, maybe. Because I know I''ll have to put the mask back on soon. I''ll have to go out there again, fight, bleed, and lie to her about it when I get back.

    For now, though, I just want this moment to last a little longer. Just for tonight. Just for now.

    The city can wait.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Maxwell Dillon had never been lucky.

    Yesterday, he locked his keys in the car¡ªagain. No money for a locksmith, so he had to shatter the window with a rock. Now, it was taped up like some kind of sad bandage on a wound that wouldn''t heal.

    Later that same day, he dropped his wallet down a sewer grate. Two hours of stomping around in filthy water, cursing under his breath, just to find it again, only for some guy with a knife to steal it right out of his hands. No wallet, no cash. Just his luck.

    When he got home, there was an eviction notice on the door. Two weeks to come up with money he didn''t have or he and his sickly mother would be out on the streets.

    "You''re a fool," Martha Dillon rasped as he helped her into bed, her frail body almost weightless in his arms. "Your sister wouldn''t have let this happen. She knew how to take care of things."

    Maxwell forced a smile, gently pulling the blanket over her. "I''m sorry, Mom. I''m gonna make it right, I swear. I won''t let us lose the house. I promise."

    "Promises," she coughed, her voice harsh and broken. "Your promises are as worthless as you are. Now get me some water."

    With a nod, he shuffled to the kitchen, obedient as always.

    On the TV, the news played another clip of Spider-Man battling Rhino in the streets of New York. Another day, another disaster, and somehow, Spider-Man always comes out on top.

    Maxwell stood there, glass in hand, watching the footage. The chaos, the destruction, the pain, all wrapped up in a tidy little narrative where the hero always wins.

    "Of course, he won," Maxwell muttered to himself, his fingers tightening around the glass. "He''s a superhero."

    "Max!"

    His mother''s voice cut through the moment like a blade. He sighed and brought her the water, setting it on her nightstand. She was already half-asleep, mumbling something about his sister again.

    It didn''t matter. He knew what she was thinking. She always made it clear¡ªMax wasn''t enough. Not for her. Not for anyone.

    Back in his room, Maxwell stared at the half-finished drawing of Spider-Man on his desk. He''d been working on it for a week now, sketching out every detail of the web-slinger''s suit, the way he swung through the city like nothing could touch him. He envied Spider-Man.

    Maxwell smiled at the drawing, reaching for his camera to snap a photo. But in his clumsy rush, he knocked over the coffee cup sitting on the edge of the desk.

    The dark liquid spread like a stain over the paper, swallowing the lines of his hard work.

    Max''s heart sank.

    Just like that, it was ruined.

    He slumped into his chair, staring at the mess. It wasn''t just the drawing. It was the last of their coffee, too. They couldn''t even afford more.

    Bad luck. It was always bad luck.

    **

    Time passes, Maxwell wakes in the morning to the buzzing of an alarm. Today was going to be different. He''d landed a new job one that he was told he was specifically requested for, and one that was going to save him and his mother from eviction. Finally, things were looking up.

    "Just finish the repairs tonight," his boss, Mr. Warren, barked. "Mr. Osborn''s people need those pipes working by morning. You screw this up, Dillon, and you''ll never work again. Got it?"

    Maxwell nodded eagerly. "Got it, boss. I''ll take care of everything. You won''t be disappointed."

    He descended into the dark, abandoned chamber beneath the old Oscorp warehouse, his flashlight barely cutting through the shadows. The place was a mess, but Max was good with pipes. It was one of the few things in his life he was actually good at.

    As he worked, he couldn''t help but feel a small flicker of hope. Maybe this was it. Maybe this time, he''d finally catch a break.

    He could picture it¡ªhis mother, smiling for once, thanking him for keeping them in their home. Maybe she''d stop comparing him to his sister.

    A loud clank echoed from above. The hatch slammed shut, the way back sealed off.

    "Hey!" Maxwell shouted, scrambling up the ladder, banging on the metal. "Hey! Mr. Warren! I''m still down here!"

    No answer.

    His heart began to race.

    Maxwell climbed back down, his flashlight flickering. The chamber felt smaller now, colder.

    Then the first pipe burst.

    Water sprayed from the ceiling, a high-pressure stream that splattered against the floor. Another pipe burst, and another. The room was filling up fast.

    Max tried to seal them, but the water kept coming, rising quickly. It soaked his boots, then his ankles, then his knees. Panic set in as he waded through the rising flood, desperate to stop it, but nothing was working.

    By the time the water reached his waist, he was back at the ladder, pounding on the hatch again.

    "Please! Help me! I''m trapped down here!"

    Still nothing.

    The water was up to his chest now, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. It wasn''t just the water¡ªit was the feeling that life had finally beaten him.

    That no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted things to get better, fate always had other plans.

    Maybe this was where his bad luck had been leading him all along.

    Then he saw it¡ªa faint glow beneath the water, growing brighter as it swirled around his legs. At first, it was just one light, then another, until there were dozens, swimming just beneath the surface.

    Maxwell''s heart pounded in his chest. He tried to climb the ladder, but the water was too high, his grip slipping.

    The glow got closer.

    "Please!" he shouted, but the only answer was the sound of rushing water.

    The water reached his neck, and then, in a final surge, it swallowed him whole.

    The glow drew closer until he could finally take in what it was that he was looking at, eels, dozens of them.

    The eels wrapped around his body, their glowing eyes staring into his. A jolt of electricity shot through him, more painful than anything he''d ever felt. They coiled tighter, their power searing into his skin, his muscles spasming uncontrollably.

    In that moment, as the pain overtook him, Maxwell''s last thought wasn''t of survival. It wasn''t of his mother or the house.

    He wonders if anyone would even bother to give him a proper burial.

    And that, like everything else in his life, felt like just another stroke of bad luck

    **

    "The subject appears to have completely normal vital signs," the woman said, her voice steady despite the bizarre reality before her. She studied the monitors, unable to believe the numbers they displayed. "It shouldn''t be possible, but your calculations were correct, Mr. Osborn. It''s almost as if his body has become pure, living energy."

    Norman Osborn stared down at Dillon, his eyes narrowing in disappointment. He had expected more¡ªa breakthrough, something spectacular. But this?

    "Why does he look like this?" Norman asked, his voice low and cold. "Is there no way to reverse it?"

    The woman adjusted her glasses and clutched the clipboard tightly, her knuckles turning white. "Part of the transformation process," she began, choosing her words carefully, "whatever was human about him has been completely overtaken by the sheer amount of energy forced into his body. His appearance¡ªhis old form¡ªit''s gone. He will never regain it."

    Norman''s face twisted in frustration, his expectations crumbling. "Another failure, then." His tone was dismissive, as if Maxwell Dillon was nothing more than a broken piece of equipment.

    The woman hesitated, glancing over Dillon''s electrified form. "Should we... dispose of him as well?"

    Norman paused, his gaze fixed on Maxwell. There was a brief flicker of something¡ªperhaps curiosity, perhaps something darker.

    Maxwell Dillon had been easy to manipulate, a man who nobody cared about, a man whose disappearance would raise no alarms.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    Norman had orchestrated the entire event, ensuring Dillon would be down in that chamber, vulnerable, just waiting for the experiment to go wrong. He had pulled the strings, all for this... result.

    A result he wasn''t sure had any use.

    "Dispose of him?" Norman mused, his eyes narrowing. "No."

    The woman''s eyes widened slightly, unsure of what he meant. "But sir, we don''t know what kind of danger he could pose¡ª"

    Norman silenced her with a single raised finger. "You make sure none of this ties back to Oscorp," he said firmly. "And more importantly, to me. But do not dispose of him. Give him clothes, and send him back out onto the streets."

    The woman blinked, startled by the order. "Sir, that could be incredibly risky. If he¡ª"

    "I want to see what becomes of this man," Norman interrupted, his tone final. He cast one last look at Maxwell Dillon, who lay still, a strange, almost ethereal energy radiating from his skin.

    Then, without another word, Norman Osborn turned and left the room, leaving Maxwell to his new fate¡ªa fate unknown, but deeply tied to the machinations of a man who saw nothing but potential, even in his failures.

    **

    Opening his eyes, Maxwell Dillon felt a hollow ache inside him, a kind of numbness that was worse than any pain he had ever known.

    It wasn''t just that he felt nothing¡ªit was that he wasn''t even sure he existed. He blinked, trying to focus, but the world around him blurred like a dream, one that felt both too real and too far away.

    He was in an alley, the kind he''d walked through a thousand times before, but now it felt foreign, as if he didn''t belong there¡ªor anywhere.

    He tried to remember how he got there, why he was sprawled on the cold, hard ground, but everything was a fog.

    Then, like a cruel punch to the gut, it hit him all at once: the water, the suffocating darkness, the eels thrashing around him, the electricity that seared through his skin.

    He remembered dying.

    But he wasn''t dead.

    Max looked down at his hands and screamed. It wasn''t his skin¡ªhis hands were no longer flesh, no longer his own. They glowed, crackling with energy, flickering like broken neon lights. "No... no, no, no!" His voice trembled, his heart hammering in his chest. "What is this? What happened to me?!"

    He stumbled backward, panic twisting in his chest. His body felt foreign¡ªlike something he didn''t own, like something that wasn''t his.

    He wanted to cry, to scream, to claw his way out of his own skin, but the moment a tear pricked at his eye, pain surged through him, fierce and blinding. Just that one tear set off a wave of electricity that shot through his veins, making his body jerk and spasm violently. The agony was unbearable.

    I can''t even cry, he thought bitterly, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

    Max sat there for what felt like hours, crumpled in a heap, clutching his knees to his chest, afraid to move, afraid to feel.

    His mind spun, trying to make sense of this nightmare, but all he could think about was how he wasn''t human anymore. He didn''t even feel real.

    Then, like a lifeline in the darkness, one word rose through the chaos in his mind. Mom.

    His mother. Martha. She''ll help me. She''ll make it okay.

    That thin thread of hope was enough to drag Max to his feet, though his legs wobbled under him.

    He yanked the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, trying to hide the glowing energy that flickered beneath, and stumbled through the city streets, his feet dragging like lead as he made his way home.

    When he finally reached the door to their small, crumbling apartment, he hesitated, his hand hovering over the knob. For a moment, he didn''t want to open it. He was afraid¡ªafraid of what he would see, of how his mother would react. But he had nowhere else to go. No one else. He opened the door.

    "Mom?" His voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. "Mom, I''m home."

    The apartment was still, the air heavy with the smell of dust and old furniture. For a moment, Max thought maybe she wasn''t there. Maybe she was asleep.

    But then, slowly, his mother appeared in the doorway, her frail frame hunched, her skin pale and papery.

    She looked up at him, and for the briefest second, he allowed himself to believe that everything would be okay.

    But then her eyes narrowed. "Maxwell?" Her voice was sharp, filled with irritation. "Where have you been? I needed you here! There''s no food. I needed you to go to the store!"

    "I know, I know. I''m sorry, Mom. I¡ªsomething happened to me. I don''t know what¡ª" His voice faltered as her gaze drifted over him, her expression turning from frustration to confusion, and then to fear. She was seeing the glow, the crackling energy just beneath the surface of his skin.

    Her face twisted in horror. "What... what happened to you? What''s wrong with your face?"

    Max''s heart shattered. "Mom, please. I don''t know what''s happening. But it''s me, it''s still me!" He pulled down his hood, hoping she''d see him, her son, beneath it all.

    Instead, she recoiled, her hands trembling. "No! No, get away from me!" Her voice was shrill, laced with terror.

    "Please, don''t be scared," Max begged, reaching out for her. He just needed to feel her hand, needed her to tell him it was okay. But she backed away, her eyes wide with disgust.

    She grabbed her phone with shaking hands and began dialing. "911? Yes..."

    Max froze. "Mom, no. No, please. Don''t do this. Don''t call the cops on me. It''s me¡ªit''s Max!"

    She shook her head, refusing to look at him. "He''s here now," she said into the phone, her voice cold. "He''s... he''s some kind of monster. Please, you need to come. Hurry."

    Max felt as if the ground beneath him was crumbling. His own mother¡ªhis last anchor to the world¡ªwas casting him away, calling him a monster.

    The pain was so sharp, it almost didn''t feel real. Almost.

    "Mom..." His voice was small, barely audible. He felt like a little boy again, lost, terrified, clinging to the one person he could call family. But the look in her eyes¡ªthere was no love. Only contempt.

    She stared at him, her lip curling in disgust. "Don''t call me that," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "You''re not my son." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "It should''ve...it should''ve been you, Max," His mother says, and his heart plummets as he knows what she''s referring too. "That day...with Melavive..it should''ve been you.."

    Max staggered backward, her words cutting deeper than any wound. His mother, the person he had lived for, the person he had tried so hard to protect¡ªshe didn''t want him. She didn''t want anything to do with him.

    Without another word, Max turned and bolted out of the apartment, pulling his hood back over his head.

    He ran, fast and hard, not caring where he was going. He just needed to get away¡ªaway from the words, from the house that no longer felt like home, from the life that had fallen apart in front of him.

    He had nothing left. Not even the one person who was supposed to love him unconditionally.

    Max had always been unlucky.

    Always the guy who had the wrong things happen to him, the one who was overlooked, who couldn''t catch a break. But now it was worse. Now, he wasn''t just unlucky¡ªhe was cursed.

    He ran faster, his glowing skin hidden beneath the hood, his heart shattering inside him.

    No matter how hard he tried, how much he gave, life had never been kind to him. And now, it seemed, life had finally taken everything.

    Max Dillon had no one left, and as he ran through the dark streets, he realized, with a gut-wrenching clarity, that maybe that was the worst luck of all.

    **

    Max sat on the edge of the curb, his hood pulled low over his face. The night was cold, the streets nearly empty, and he felt the isolation settle in his bones.

    He''d been sitting there for hours, staring at the pavement, wondering how his life had come to this. His hands¡ªglowing faintly beneath his sleeves¡ªwere a constant reminder of what he had become.

    Or rather, what he wasn''t anymore.

    He wasn''t Max Dillon, the guy who worked a dead-end job to keep his mom afloat.

    He wasn''t even someone who could blend into a crowd. No, now he was something else entirely.

    A freak. A walking accident.

    But before he could sink deeper into that dark hole, movement caught his eye. A woman, hurried steps, fear etched into her face. Behind her, three men.

    They weren''t hiding their intentions. Max''s pulse quickened.

    He glanced around for a phone, something to get the police, but when he found a booth and tried dialing, the lights inside flickered¡ªmatching the sparks dancing around his fingers.

    He froze, staring at his own hands. They weren''t his anymore. They were...something else. Unpredictable. Dangerous.

    Max dropped the receiver, swallowing the rising panic. He looked back at the woman, and his mind flashed to something¡ªsomeone¡ªhe admired.

    A figure swinging between skyscrapers, always saving people in the nick of time. He wasn''t that person. He''d never be that person.

    But no one else was around.

    He stood, heart pounding, and crossed the street, weaving through honking cars until he was just a few feet away from the men. "H-Hey!" His voice cracked, but it was enough to make them turn.

    The woman looked at him, eyes wide with a mixture of hope and confusion.

    One of the men, tall and broad-shouldered, grinned, his grip still firm on the woman''s arm. "Can we help you?"

    Max hesitated. He''d never fought anyone before. Hell, he wasn''t even sure what he could do now. But something told him¡ªif he didn''t step up, no one would. "L-let her go," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Let her go. Or... or I''ll stop you!"

    The men burst into laughter, the sound bouncing off the alley walls. "You serious?" one of them asks, stepping forward. "Get lost, before you get hurt, freak."

    Max''s chest tightened, but he didn''t move. "I said stop!" The lights above flickered violently, casting long, jagged shadows over the street. Max winced, surprised by the reaction, but the men stumbled back, eyes wide.

    "What the hell?" one of them muttered, now seeing the faint glow seeping through Max''s hoodie.

    Max swallowed, feeling a strange surge of power as the lights continued to flicker.

    He lowered his hood, revealing the strange, crackling energy that pulsed beneath his skin. "I''m not a freak," he said quietly, though even he wasn''t sure he believed it. "I''m... Electricity-Man."

    He raised his hands, ready to strike.

    The men recoiled, clearly unnerved by his glowing appearance. But as Max prepared to unleash something, anything¡ªnothing happened.

    He stared at his hands, shaking them desperately. "Take this!" he shouted, trying again. "Take this!"

    Nothing.

    The leader of the group, no longer impressed, snorted and stepped forward again. "You gotta be kidding me. That''s it? All that flash, no bang?"

    Max''s heart sank as the man raised his fist. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the blow, when something whizzed past his ear. The man''s fist never connected. Max opened his eyes to see the guy frozen mid-swing, his arm wrapped in thick, sticky webs.

    As Max stood there, still trying to process what had just happened, a voice rang out from above, light and playful, as if this were just another day in the life.

    "Hey guys, I think you dropped this," came the voice.

    Before Max could even register what was going on, a figure swooped down from above, the red and blue of his suit catching the dim streetlight.

    It was him¡ªSpider-Man.

    The real deal. The web-slinger landed lightly on his feet, already pulling two of the thugs off their feet with effortless ease.

    Max could only stare, wide-eyed, as Spider-Man moved like it was second nature.

    He swung a web line to one of the men still holding the girl, yanking him backward. "You know," Spider-Man quipped as he bound the thug''s arms together, "you should really try online dating instead of... whatever this is." He webbed the guy''s mouth shut with a quick flick, then darted toward the other two, flipping in midair to avoid a punch.

    With a flurry of kicks, punches, and webs, Spider-Man made quick work of the three men, tying them all up in a neat little bundle like he''d been doing it his whole life.

    He strung them up from a streetlight, leaving them dangling there like a bad decoration.

    Max could hardly breathe. The way Spider-Man moved¡ªit was like he wasn''t even human, like some larger-than-life figure come straight out of a comic book.

    But there he was, in the flesh. The way he cracked jokes, the ease with which he handled these guys, it was the complete opposite of everything Max had just gone through.

    He''d panicked, fumbled, and failed. And yet, here was Spider-Man, swooping in, saving the day without breaking a sweat.

    The woman, now free, stood shaking as Spider-Man approached her. "You okay, ma''am?" he asked, his tone softer, more reassuring. "These guys won''t be bothering you anymore. You''re safe."

    She nodded, her face pale but grateful. "Thank you... thank you so much," she stammered, tears welling up in her eyes.

    "Hey, no problem," Spider-Man said, giving her a casual salute. "It''s all in a day''s work for your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man." He gently patted her shoulder before gesturing toward a nearby street, "There''s a diner over there if you need somewhere to sit down. Cops will be here soon to take care of these goons."

    The woman nodded again, offering one more heartfelt "Thank you," before hurrying away, relief clear in her steps.

    Max stood frozen in place, his heart pounding. He hadn''t even realized he was holding his breath until Spider-Man turned toward him, completely unfazed by Max''s glowing appearance.

    "Hey, so," Spider-Man said, crossing his arms and tilting his head. "I gotta ask... Is that a look you''re going for, or are you just glowing with excitement?" His tone was light, even teasing, but there wasn''t an ounce of fear or judgment in his voice.

    He wasn''t afraid of Max, wasn''t treating him like a freak.

    Max opened his mouth, trying to come up with something to say, but nothing came out. He couldn''t believe it.

    Spider-Man was talking to him. Actually talking to him.

    "And I mean, not to be that guy," Spider-Man continued, rubbing the back of his head, "but whatever''s going on with you? Kinda cool, honestly. Like, if you''re ever thinking of rebranding, ''Electricity-Man'' isn''t half bad." He gave Max a thumbs up.

    Max blinked, stunned. Cool? Did Spider-Man just call him cool?

    No one had ever called him cool in his life. It was like all the fear, confusion, and self-doubt from earlier just melted away under that one simple compliment.

    For the first time since his transformation, Max didn''t feel like a complete disaster.

    Spider-Man had looked at him¡ªreally looked at him¡ªand saw something good. Something worth noticing.

    Max finally found his voice. "I... uh... I''m not really sure what I am," he stammered, his hands twitching as electricity flickered faintly at his fingertips. "I mean, I''m just trying to... figure it all out."

    Spider-Man nodded, completely serious now. "Hey, no rush. Trust me, I''ve been there. New powers, new life¡ªit''s a lot to deal with. But you''ll get the hang of it." He gestured toward the tangled mess of thugs strung up behind him. "And if you''re ever up for saving people, I think you''re off to a good start."

    Max''s heart swelled at those words, a feeling of hope flickering to life inside him.

    For once, he wasn''t just the unlucky guy in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe, just maybe, things were starting to change. And for the first time in a long time, he dared to believe that maybe his luck wasn''t all bad after all.

    ***

    Spider-Man took another bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully as he looked out at the city.

    The quiet between them was oddly comforting, like two people who''d seen the same side of life that others couldn''t possibly understand.

    Max felt the warmth of it, even though he was still lost in the cold sea of his thoughts.

    "Look, man," Spider-Man finally said, still chewing a little, "you''re not a monster. Trust me, I''ve seen monsters. They don''t save people. They don''t care about anyone but themselves. You? You stepped in when no one else would. You didn''t have to, but you did."

    Max shook his head slowly, his fingers buzzing slightly as they fidgeted in his lap. "I didn''t even know what I was doing... I just¡ª" He stopped, unsure how to explain the mess of fear and confusion that had driven him to act.

    Spider-Man waved a hand. "Doesn''t matter. You still did it. That''s what counts." He paused, glancing at Max before continuing, "Look, powers or not, people are gonna react to what they don''t understand. Trust me, I''ve been called everything from menace to a freak show." He chuckled, but there was a depth to it, an edge that told Max this wasn''t just some joke.

    Max sat there, his thoughts swirling. His mother''s words, the look on her face¡ªit was hard to shake.

    He''d never seen someone so afraid of him, especially someone who was supposed to love him. And maybe that was what hurt the most.

    The part that felt like it would never heal.

    "But what if my mother''s right?" Max whispered, more to himself than to Spider-Man. "What if I really am... wrong now? What if I am a monster?"

    Spider-Man pulled his mask back down, completely covering his face again, but Max could feel the intensity of his gaze. "Dude," Spider-Man said, leaning forward, "I don''t know what''s gonna happen from here. But I know one thing¡ªyou get to decide what you are. No one else. I was once told by someone amazing that with great power, there must come great responsibility. That''s what having these powers means to me. So that''s who I choose to be."

    Max looked at him, trying to understand how someone like Spider-Man, who made saving the day look so easy, could even begin to get it.

    But the longer he stared at that mask, the more he realized that maybe Spider-Man wasn''t so different.

    Maybe he''d gone through something just as confusing, just as painful. And yet, he''d come out on the other side of it¡ªstrong, sure of himself.

    A hero.

    "Besides," Spider-Man added, grinning beneath the mask, "weird origin stories are kinda our thing. Electric eels? Not the strangest thing I''ve heard."

    Max actually laughed a little, surprising himself with the sound. For the first time in what felt like forever, it didn''t feel so hopeless.

    It was still terrifying, still confusing, but maybe... maybe there was something more to this than just bad luck.

    Spider-Man stood, brushing crumbs off his suit. "Alright, Sparky," he said, reaching out a hand to Max, "you ready to figure out how to make this hero thing work?"

    Max blinked, looking up at the extended hand. Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached out and took it. Spider-Man pulled him up to his feet with ease, a smile in his voice as he said, "Not so hard when you have a friend in the weirdness department."

    Max glanced at the glowing light of his own hands, still unsure, but feeling a bit more steady than before.

    Maybe he wasn''t quite a hero yet. But if Spider-Man thought he could be... maybe that was enough.

    **

    Spider-Man and Max stood on the rooftop of an old building, the city sprawled out below them like a maze of flickering lights. Max was fidgeting, staring at his hands, which sparked erratically with small jolts of electricity.

    "So, uh, how exactly do I do this?" Max asked nervously, looking up at Spider-Man, who was casually hanging upside down from a web he''d shot onto a nearby antenna.

    Spider-Man grinned beneath his mask. "Alright, Sparky, first rule of using superpowers¡ªdon''t think too much. Trust your instincts." He let go of the web and landed on his feet, dusting off his suit like he''d just done something totally ordinary. "It''s like... when you''re learning to ride a bike. Except, you know, instead of balancing, you''re not trying to electrocute yourself."

    Max nodded shaking his hands in anticipation. "Yeah, okay. Okay."

    "Okay, okay, watch this," Spider-Man said, hopping over to a metal trash can lid. He picked it up and handed it to Max like it was a Frisbee. "Now, see that billboard over there? I want you to aim for it. Just give it a little jolt. Don''t overthink it."

    Max hesitated, gripping the trash can lid awkwardly. "And... if I fry it?"

    Spider-Man shrugged. "It''s New York. People will just think it''s another blackout. Besides, you''ve got me. Worst-case scenario, I web it before things get too crispy."

    Max nodded, his nerves only slightly eased. He squinted at the billboard in the distance, focused, and then thrust his hand forward with a grunt.

    A tiny bolt of electricity shot out, launching the trash can lid towards the billboard, using so much force it crashed straight through it.

    "Holy...I...I did that?" Max said, looking down at his hands.

    Spider-Man chuckled. "Okay, okay, I know I said not to overthink it, but maybe think a little next time."

    Max frowned but couldn''t help a small smile creeping onto his face. "Okay, yeah. Sorry."

    Spider-Man wiped an imaginary tear from his mask. "Alright, let''s try something else. How about we start with baby steps? Aim for something that isn''t metal and doesn''t conduct electricity."

    He pointed to a stack of empty cardboard boxes nearby. "Zap those."

    Max stepped up, raising his hands carefully. This time, a smaller, more controlled burst of electricity flickered out of his fingers and hit the boxes with a soft crackle, making them shake but not explode.

    Spider-Man clapped dramatically. "Now we''re cooking. Next stop, superhero training montage."

    Max shook his head, a small laugh escaping him. "I think we''ll need a lot more than a montage."

    Spider-Man leaned in, elbowing him lightly. "Nah, you''ve got this. You''re already shocking the competition." He winked, and Max gave a small smile.

    **

    Hours passed as Spider-Man guided Max in harnessing his powers. Though he still struggled to control the electric surges within him, he felt an unexpected calm wash over him.

    In those moments with Spider-Man, the weight of his chaotic past seemed to lift, allowing him a glimpse of what his life could be¡ªa stark contrast to the darkness he had known.

    For the first time, Max felt hope flicker to life, like a dim light cutting through the shadows that had engulfed him for so long.

    Perhaps all the misfortunes he had endured¡ªthe loneliness, the betrayal, the pain¡ªhad finally reached their peak.

    Maybe, just maybe, he could turn that all around and discover a new path for himself.

    He could even be a hero.

    "Oh man," Spider-Man said, checking his phone. "I gotta, uh..." He paused, glancing at Max, whose brow furrowed in confusion.

    "Everything okay?" Max asked, his heart sinking at the thought of losing this newfound ally.

    Spider-Man tucked his phone away. "Yeah, just some stuff I need to take care of." He hesitated, reluctant to admit he had to be home by curfew, now that Aunt May was back in his life. "Don''t worry though, we''ll pick up where we left off tomorrow."

    Max''s heart deflated. "You''re leaving? But... what am I supposed to do?"

    Spider-Man searched for the right words, aware of the vulnerability in Max''s voice. "Just hang tight. I''ll be back, and we can continue your training."

    Max nodded slowly, a part of him still uncertain. "Yeah, okay."

    Spider-Man''s grin returned, momentarily brightening the mood. "Alright then. I''ll see you later, Max. And tomorrow, we can figure out a place for you to stay." He felt guilty about leaving Max alone, but he couldn''t take him home to Aunt May, and he didn''t have the funds for a hotel room.

    "Yes, sir," Max replied, watching as Spider-Man leapt off the rooftop, swinging into the night like a beacon of hope in a city full of shadows.

    Standing alone, Max gazed out at the sprawling city, its heartbeat resonating through the streets, each pulse echoing with both life and despair.

    Closing his eyes, he felt the electric energy coursing through the city, a reminder of his own chaotic existence. Though he had lost everything familiar, he ironically felt more alive than he ever had.

    But the moment of tranquility shattered as he heard screams pierce the night. His heart raced as he looked down the street to see a man storm into a diner, weapon drawn, chaos erupting in his wake.

    The police would take too long; he had to act. Max looked at his hands, and in response, the lights flickered violently around him, the energy inside him surging.

    "I''m a hero now," he whispered, resolve flooding his veins. "I can do this. Just like Spider-Man."

    In that instant, he recognized the darkness of his past¡ªa life riddled with fear and helplessness¡ªand realized he had the power to confront it, to become more than the victim of his own story.

    With each flicker of light, he felt the weight of his old life receding, making way for something new, something bright.

    He sprinted toward the diner, ready to embrace his fate, determined to reshape his story into one worth telling.

    **

    "Just stay on the fucking ground! I promise I won''t hurt anyone." The robber''s voice cut through the tense air, sharp as the weapon he waved. "Unless one of you tries to do something stupid."

    Fear rippled through the diner. Patrons huddled together, eyes wide, breath caught in their throats, praying for this nightmare to end.

    The man cleared the register, scooping up cash like it was nothing, pausing to take a bite of a nearby burger. "Thanks for all your participation. I promise this money''ll be put to great use."

    Then the bell above the door jingled, and Max stepped inside, his hood pulled low. He felt the hum of energy around him, the flickering lights seeming to respond to his presence. "That''s enough! You villain!" he shouted, his voice trembling yet fierce.

    The robber turned, eyes narrowing, taking in Max''s radiant form. "What the... fuck?" he spat, pointing the gun directly at him. Max''s heart raced, panic clawing at him.

    "D-Don''t hurt anyone! Or... I''ll be forced to stop you!" The words stumbled out, shaky but defiant. He raised his arm, palm outstretched, desperately hoping to channel his powers. "I don''t wanna have to do this."

    But a darker urge flickered within him, whispering promises of control and revenge. He wanted to make this man feel helpless, just as he had felt for so long. "Watch closely, folks. This is what happens when you try to be the hero," the robber taunted, his finger tightening on the trigger.

    Max''s thoughts spun, and in that split second, everything rushed back¡ªthe lessons from Spider-Man, the weight of his past, and the specter of his mother''s disappointment. No! He shouted in his mind. That wasn''t him anymore.

    He wasn''t just bad luck Max.

    He was a superhero, like Spider-Man.

    With a roar, he tapped into his powers, feeling the surge of electricity course through him. Lights flickered violently, chaos erupting as he unleashed a wave of energy.

    The diner trembled. Patrons gasped, and the robber''s face twisted in horror as the building shuddered.

    Max let out a primal cry, releasing the energy that had built up inside him.

    The walls exploded outward, and the room burst into dust and debris.

 Spider-Man VS Electro

    AS the dust settled, Max found himself on his knees, trembling. His ears rang from the explosion, the world around him spinning as his mind fought to comprehend the chaos he had wrought.

    Slowly, his gaze moved across the diner, and his breath caught in his throat.

    The once filled to the brim diner of families and couples, was now a graveyard of broken glass, toppled tables, and scattered bodies.

    His heart pounded louder than the sirens in the distance. The robber, the man who had threatened them all, lay dead among the others¡ªhis body lifeless, mouth twisted in a grotesque final expression.

    Max''s hands trembled as the faint glow of electricity flickered around him. He had done this.

    "What have I done?" The words slipped from his lips in a broken whisper. The diner was quiet now, too quiet. It was a silence that pressed on him, heavy and suffocating.

    Max swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat only seemed to grow. The weight of his actions crushed down on him.

    His power had spilled out, uncontrolled and wild, and in trying to stop one bad man, he had become something far worse.

    He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to save people. That''s what Spider-Man had told him¡ªto use his powers for good.

    But this? This was destruction. The bodies on the floor were proof of that.

    Why? he thought, his mind reeling. Why me? Why do I always ruin everything?

    The sirens outside grew louder, snapping him from his spiraling thoughts. He stumbled to his feet, shaking, the horror of his actions weighing on every breath.

    Before he could make sense of it all, a figure stepped through the shattered glass entrance.

    Captain Stacy, flanked by officers, scanned the scene. His eyes widened as they locked onto Max standing in the wreckage.

    The officers raised their weapons in unison, tension crackling in the air as they moved in closer.

    "Hey, kid!" Captain Stacy called, cautiously, his gun drawn but lowered. "Are you alright? What the hell happened here?"

    Max''s chest tightened. His gaze darted around the room¡ªat the blood, the twisted bodies, the lifeless eyes staring up at him. His mind raced. "I... I didn''t mean... It wasn''t supposed to..." His voice cracked. "I just wanted to help."

    Captain Stacy stepped closer, wariness in his eyes. "Did you...do this?"

    Max froze. The question hit him like a blow. Did you do this? He had. He had done this. But not on purpose, right? His heart pounded as the officers advanced, their guns all trained on him now.

    "I didn''t¡ª It wasn''t my fault! Please!" Max took a shaky step back. The lights around them flickered. "I didn''t mean to hurt anyone!"

    "Easy, kid," Captain Stacy said, sweat dotting his brow. "You need to come with us now. Just calm down, and we can figure this out."

    "No," Max stammered, panic rising in his chest. "It''s not fair! I just wanted to help!"

    The sirens from the squad cars began flickering again, the lights outside dimming. He could feel the energy building inside him, like a storm just waiting to break loose. The officers took another cautious step back, fear creeping into their eyes.

    "Stand down, kid," Stacy warned, his voice steady but tense. "Don''t make this harder than it has to be."

    Max clenched his fists, his emotions surging, twisting inside him. It wasn''t fair. Why did it always end like this? Why did everything in his life fall apart no matter how hard he tried to do the right thing?

    He could feel the fear in the officers around him. Just like his mother had been. Just like everyone always would be¡­now that he was this monster.

    "Why me?" Max whispered, the words dripping with bitterness. "Why is it always me?"

    Before Captain Stacy could respond, a familiar figure swung down from above, landing in the debris. Spider-Man.

    Max''s heart clenched at the sight of him¡ªhis mentor, his friend. The one person who had believed in him. But when Spider-Man''s eyes swept across the scene, the devastation, the bodies, his face fell.

    "Oh God... Max." Spider-Man''s voice was barely audible, laced with a sorrow. "What... what have you done?"

    Max''s stomach dropped. Spider-Man looked at him, not with anger, but with an overwhelming sadness.

    It was the kind of look that cut deeper than any scolding ever could. A look that said everything Max had feared¡ªhe had failed. And in that failure, he had lost him, too.

    "I didn''t mean to," Max muttered, voice hoarse, barely able to meet Spider-Man''s gaze. "I just wanted to help. You... you said I could be a hero."

    Spider-Man shook his head, his mask barely hiding the pain in his eyes. "Max, there are people dead. Innocent people. If you really want to do the right thing... you have to turn yourself in."

    Max''s heart twisted violently. Turn myself in? The words echoed in his mind, cutting him open. They didn''t understand. No one ever did. They couldn''t see it¡ªthis wasn''t his fault. This was just more bad luck, more cruelty from a world that had always been against him.

    "You told me I could be like you!" Max shouted, his voice trembling with anger and grief. "You said these powers could make me something better!"

    "Max, please," Spider-Man pleaded. "You have to listen to me. There''s still a chance for you to...to make this right."

    But Max couldn''t listen anymore. The rejection, the fear, the endless bad luck¡ªhe was drowning in it. His eyes darkened as his mind cracked under the weight. The diner, the robber, Spider-Man¡ªall of it blurred together into a single cruel joke.

    And Max was tired of being the punchline.

    "No," Max said, his voice low and dangerous. "No more. No more bad luck. No more people taking from me."

    Spider-Man tensed, recognizing the shift. "Max, don''t¡ª"

    "DON''T CALL ME THAT!" Max roared, and a wave of electricity exploded from his body, sending Spider-Man and the officers flying back. Cars flipped, lights shattered.

    The city seemed to flicker in and out of existence as raw power poured out of him, surging through every wire, every light, every structure around them.

    Spider-Man struggled to his feet, horror written across his face. "Max..."

    "No. Not Max. Not anymore." he said, rising into the air, electricity crackling and arcing from his skin. The power surged through him like a drug, intoxicating, overwhelming.

    He was no longer the weak, powerless man the world had beaten down. Now, he had control. Now, he could take what he wanted.

    "I''m Electro."

    Spider-Man watched Max, as energy surged into his body, electricity striking the ground like thunder strikes. Spider-Man turned to Captain Stacy, "you need to run!"

    The city plunged into darkness as another surge erupted from him, blacking out entire blocks.

    Spider-Man barely managed to web Captain Stacy to safety before another blast sent them both crashing into the side of a building.

    Peter stared up at Max¡ªno, at Electro¡ªand felt a deep, aching sorrow.

    This was his fault. He had tried to save Max, to show him the way, but in the end, the weight of Max''s pain had been too much. And now, the city would pay the price.

    Captain Stacy, still recovering from the shockwave sits still, his body telling him to do something to stop this, to not leave this to a boy, but he knew what this kid was capable of....even so...he watched as Max continued to surge with electricity...could Spider-Man even stop him?

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    "You won''t win," Electro said, hovering above him, electricity crackling in the sky like an approaching storm. "I don''t want to kill you, Spider-Man."

    Peter''s heart sank. He had heard those words before, from so many others who had lost their way. But hearing them from Max felt like a deep blow, he thought he''d finally found someone to truly share this life with. He sighed, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

    Spider-Man turns to Captain Stacy, "you need to get everyone out of here. Keep civilians off the streets," he said, moving to face the Electro.

    "You can''t fight him." Captain Stacy says, "He''ll kill you."

    Spider-Man doesn''t turn back to face Captain Stacy, "if those with the means and the power don''t fight when necessary. Then what''s the point?"

    Captain Stacy watches as Spider-Man faces down Electro, but he knew that there wasn''t anything he could do. And as much as it killed him, he needed to leave this up to Spider-Man. He called on his radio planning to set his men up in specific areas, hoping that the destruction to the city could be kept to a minimum.

    "I''m sorry, Max." Spider-Man stood, facing the storm head-on. "But I have to stop you."

    Max''s face twisted, fury boiling over. "I tried your way, Spider-Man. I tried to be responsible." He sneered. "But the world never gave me a chance. And now, I''ll give them exactly what they''ve given me. By the time I''m done, I''ll be the last light that shines on this Earth."

    As the storm of electricity raged around them, Spider-Man prepared himself for the fight ahead. He had to stop Max... even if it killed him.

    **

    The air crackled with tension as Spider-Man faced off against Electro, the darkened city looming around them like a silent witness. Max¡ªor Electro now¡ªhovered above the street, his entire form aglow with raw energy.

    Bolts of electricity arced from his body to nearby streetlights, stoplights, and power lines, sending flashes of light skittering across the ground.

    Spider-Man could feel the static charge even from where he stood, his senses on edge.

    Electro''s eyes burned with madness, but Spider-Man could still see traces of Max in there¡ªthe friend who had once looked up to him. But now, that person was buried beneath the weight of power and anger. And there wasn''t time to save him. Not anymore.

    "I won''t let you stop me, Spider-Man," Electro growled, his voice distorted by the crackling electricity surging through him. "Not this time."

    "Max, you have to stop!" Peter shouted, trying to keep his voice calm despite the thudding of his heart. "We can still fix this! You don''t have to hurt anyone else!"

    "Hurt?" Electro sneered, energy swirling around him, his body a glowing beacon of destruction. "What about when I was hurting!? Who stopped then?! Who helped me?!"

    Before Spider-Man could respond, Electro hurled a bolt of electricity directly at him.

    Spider-Man leaped into the air just in time, the ground beneath him exploding in a shower of sparks. The force of the blast sent cars flipping and storefront windows shattering.

    I have to get him out of here, Spider-Man thought, his mind racing. If he keeps this up, half the city could go down.

    He shot a webline to the nearest building and swung out of the way as Electro fired another barrage of energy in his direction.

    Spider-Man dodged and weaved between buildings, his webbing snapping him from streetlight to traffic pole, all while keeping an eye on the civilians below.

    People were fleeing in panic, cars screeching to a halt, horns blaring, but there were still too many trapped in the crossfire.

    Electro chased after him, blasting energy in wild arcs, his anger growing with every missed shot.

    The sheer power radiating from him was enough to make the air feel thick with electricity, the hairs on the back of Spider-Man''s neck standing on end.

    Every streetlight Electro passed flickered out in a shower of sparks, leaving the city in deeper darkness with every moment.

    Police sirens blared from the street below, while helicopters circled above, their spotlights tracking the chase as it ripped through the heart of the city.

    Spider-Man could hear the police radios crackling with urgency, their calls frantic as they tried to coordinate a response.

    But they couldn''t stop Electro.

    Only Spider-Man could.

    As Spider-Man swung around a corner, his eyes caught a group of civilians trapped behind an overturned bus, struggling to get out.

    No time to think¡ªhe dropped down mid-swing, landing with a roll before sprinting toward them. "Get clear!" he shouted, waving his arms. "Move!"

    Just as they scrambled to safety, Electro swooped down, unleashing a storm of electricity. Spider-Man barely managed to dive between the civilians and the blast, webbing the bus and yanking it out of the way.

    The bus skidded across the street, and Spider-Man swung out just in time to dodge another strike.

    His body was already aching, muscles straining as he pushed himself to the limit.

    But he couldn''t stop. Not yet.

    "We didn''t have to be enemies!" Electro roared from above, his voice echoing across the darkened city. "You''re forcing me to do this!"

    Spider-Man shot a webline up, flinging himself into the air again. Electro pursued, sending arcs of lightning through the sky, narrowly missing Spider-Man as he zigzagged between buildings.

    Spider-Mans mind raced as fast as his body moved. He needed a plan.

    He couldn''t keep dodging forever¡ªone slip-up, and Electro would fry him. And worse, more innocent people could get caught in the crossfire.

    As he swung through the city, Spider-Man spotted a large construction site up ahead¡ªan unfinished building with plenty of steel girders and scaffolding.

    It was far enough from the crowds, and more importantly, it had enough metal to ground Electro''s attacks if Spider-Man could just lead him there.

    "That''s it," Spider-Man muttered under his breath. He changed course, making a beeline for the site. He hoped Electro would take the bait.

    Sure enough, Electro followed, his rage blinding him to the strategy. Spider-Man swung around the skeleton of the building, dodging another bolt of lightning that crashed into a steel beam.

    The impact sent sparks flying, but it also gave Spider-Man an idea.

    If he could time it right, he could use the construction equipment against Electro.

    "You''re only delaying the inevitable!" Electro shouted, his body flaring with power as he charged up another strike. "You can''t stop me anymore!"

    "Sorry, Max," Spider-Man muttered to himself, twisting mid-air to fire a webline at the crane above. "I don''t have time for your monologue."

    He yanked hard on the web, causing the crane to lurch and swing its massive arm down toward Electro.

    The electricity struck the metal, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

    Electro screamed in frustration as the charge was absorbed by the steel structure, his power surging uncontrollably.

    But it wasn''t enough to stop him. Not yet.

    Electro''s eyes blazed as he redirected his energy, blasting away the scaffolding that surrounded him.

    Spider-Man had to think faster. He needed to overload Electro''s powers¡ªmake him burn out before he could cause more damage.

    Spider-Man dodged another volley of lightning and, with precision, fired two quick weblines at a nearby wrecking ball.

    With a hard pull, the ball swung free, crashing into a power line tower beside the site.

    Electro screamed as the electric current surged into him from the tower, the massive energy feedback causing his body to spark violently.

    Spider-Man heart pounded. This was his moment.

    "Max! You have to stop!" he yelled, landing on the scaffold just a few feet from Electro, who writhed in pain as the power overwhelmed him. "You can''t control it! If you don''t stop now, you''re going to kill yourself!"

    Electro''s eyes flashed with a dangerous light, but Spider-Man could see the torment beneath it. "I... I won''t let them take this from me!" Max''s voice cracked, his pain showing through the anger for the first time. "I won''t let anyone take it!"

    Spider-Man saw his opening. He fired a web directly at Electro''s chest, then another to the grounded steel structure, channeling the energy away from Max''s body.

    The feedback caused Electro to scream again, but this time, his power began to drain. The electricity that had surged so wildly now crackled out in small, sputtering arcs.

    As Electro writhed in agony, his body still crackling with residual energy, something snapped in him.

    His eyes blazed with even greater fury, and before Spider-Man could react, Electro reached out toward a nearby power line, drawing more electricity into his already overloaded form.

    The surge of power made the air hum with an almost unbearable intensity.

    Bolts of lightning flickered out of his body uncontrollably, causing the ground to tremble beneath Spider-Man''s feet.

    "You''re not stopping me!" Electro screamed, his voice now a twisted blend of human and raw energy. "No one can stop me!"

    Spider-Man''s eyes widened as Electro turned his attention upward¡ªtoward one of the news helicopters hovering too close to the chaos.

    No, no, no!

    Electro''s hand shot out, firing a massive bolt of electricity directly at the helicopter.

    The blinding flash lit up the night sky, arcing through the air like a jagged spear. Spider-Man''s instincts kicked in, adrenaline surging through him.

    He pushed off the ground with all his strength, launching himself into the air.

    The wind roared past his ears as he swung at breakneck speed, his muscles burning with effort.

    He fired a webline to the helicopter, yanking it hard to the side just as Electro''s bolt barely missed its rotor blades.

    The blast struck a nearby rooftop instead, causing an explosion of concrete and sparks.

    The helicopter spun wildly, thrown off balance from the sudden movement.

    Spider-Man clung to the webline, swinging around and landing on the side of the helicopter, his heart pounding in his chest as he anchored it with more webbing, stabilizing it.

    The pilot looked terrified but nodded in silent thanks, adjusting the controls as Peter released his grip.

    No time to rest. Electro was charging up again, his body flickering with wild energy, eyes blazing with madness.

    Spider-Man leaped off the helicopter and landed on the nearest building.

    His mind raced. I''m out of options, he thought. He''s too powerful. Every time I think I have him, he just absorbs more energy.

    He barely had a moment to catch his breath when the crackling voice of Captain Stacy came over an intercom in one of the police helicopters circling overhead.

    "Spider-Man, listen to me," Stacy''s voice boomed through the chaos, urgent but steady. "We''ve got a plan. Lead this guy to Central Park. We''ve got a setup ready. Trust me."

    Spider-Man paused, weighing his options. It''s risky, but what other choice do I have?

    "On it," Spider-Man muttered, knowing that Stacy couldn''t hear him, but hoping the message got through.

    He shot a webline and swung back into the fray, deliberately taunting Electro.

    "Hey, Max!" Spider-Man called, flipping through the air just as Electro launched another bolt in his direction. "I know you''re mad, but how about we finish this somewhere with fewer news helicopters? Maybe somewhere scenic?"

    Electro snarled, his energy surging as he gave chase. Spider-Man pushed himself harder, sprinting across the rooftops and diving between buildings.

    The city streets below had been cleared, police barriers blocking off the area thanks to the NYPD''s quick response.

    The streets were empty now, save for the occasional abandoned car and a few flashing lights in the distance.

    Electro flew after Spider-Man, blasting apart anything in his path. Streetlights exploded, electrical boxes burst into flames, and the dark city seemed to pulse with the energy Max was drawing from it.

    Finally, Spider-Man could see the edge of Central Park up ahead. He swung through the trees, his body aching from the non-stop action.

    Electro followed, but the densely wooded park made it harder for him to fire off accurate shots.

    Spider-Man flipped and dodged, his agility keeping him just ahead of Electro''s relentless blasts.

    They collided once in midair, the impact sending Spider-Man crashing into the ground. He groaned, rolling onto his back just as Electro descended toward him, fury in his eyes.

    "You''re finished!" Electro screamed, raising his hands to deliver a final blast.

    Before he could unleash it, a blinding light flashed across Electro''s face. Captain Stacy had positioned a powerful spotlight on a nearby truck, catching Electro off guard.

    The distraction was enough to make him hesitate.

    "Now! Hit him!" Stacy shouted through the megaphone.

    At his command, fire trucks stationed around the park unleashed powerful streams of water from all directions.

    The hoses blasted Electro, who staggered backward, his body sparking wildly as the water hit him.

    His power began to short-circuit, bolts of electricity firing off in random directions as he tried to fight against the onslaught.

    But Electro wasn''t done yet. With a scream of rage, he fired off a powerful blast that struck one of the fire trucks, sending it tumbling across the ground in a fiery explosion, the shockwave pushing the other trucks over.

    The hoses went slack, but Spider-Man had seen enough.

    He noticed the slight flicker in Electro''s power, the way the water had weakened him. This was his chance.

    Spider-Man fired a webline at Electro, yanking him off his feet and pulling him to the ground.

    He followed up with a flurry of punches, each one hammering Electro harder into the earth.

    Electro tried to fight back, but the water had already weakened him, his strikes becoming less coordinated, less powerful.

    The news helicopters were circling overhead, capturing every brutal second of the fight. But Spider-Man didn''t care about the cameras.

    All he could think about was stopping Electro before he could hurt anyone else.

    With Electro dazed, Spider-Man sprinted toward one of the downed fire trucks, grabbing a loose hose from the wreckage.

    He turned it on full blast, aiming the powerful stream of water directly at Electro.

    "Let''s cool you off, Max," Spider-Man muttered, spraying Electro with everything the truck had.

    The water pounded against Electro, short-circuiting his energy reserves. Sparks flew from his body, his scream fading into a gurgled shout as his powers finally overloaded.

    With Electro stunned, Spider-Man charged forward, delivering a powerful kick that sent him crashing into the ground.

    The earth shook with the impact, and Electro lay still, his body smoking, flickers of electricity fading from his skin.

    Spider-Man stood over him, breathing heavily. His suit was soaked, his muscles ached, but Electro was down.

    Finally.

    The sound of approaching sirens filled the park as the police moved in to secure the area.

    Spider-Man glanced up at the helicopters, their spotlights still trained on him. The city had seen everything.

    Tonight, Spider-Man had won.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    A dark room.

    That was all Maxwell Dillon could see¡ªno sounds, no smells, no light. Just endless, suffocating blackness.

    He was alone.

    But then again, that was a feeling he was all too familiar with.

    "Spider-Man," he muttered, the name burning on his tongue. His voice was low, venomous. "Spider-Man..."

    Deep underground, in a place where no electricity flowed, his escape was impossible. They had buried him beneath the city, far away from power.

    But it didn''t matter. He had something else now. Something that fed him more than electricity ever could¡ªhis hatred. It simmered beneath the surface, growing stronger with every passing second.

    Electro''s lips twisted into a cruel smile. "Spider-Man... I will show you real despair. So, wait for me. Just wait..."

    Suddenly, a flicker of movement. On a dim monitor, a figure leaned forward, watching the scene unfold from an unseen location. A pair of mechanical arms twitched in the shadows, cold and methodical.

    "Yes..." A voice, smooth and calculating, echoed softly in the dark. "He will do nicely...You''ve made a great many enemies Norman. I feel as though I should thank you for making them so valuable."

    Dr. Octavius smiled.

    And the screen went black.

 Homecoming

    Tuesday, October 8th

    Two days after the battle with Electro....

    In science and math? Yeah, I''m a whiz. No one in Midtown High can touch me.

    But life? Y''know, like... everything else? Not so much.

    I mean, I''m getting help with school stuff. But the life stuff? Maybe I should hire a life coach.

    The bell rings, snapping me out of my thoughts. Mr. Baldwin stands up, the eternal ruler of the history kingdom. "All right, pencils down, folks. You''ll know your fates tomorrow." He scans the room, his voice all business. "And don''t forget¡ªhomecoming tickets. This weekend. No ticket, no dance."

    Great. Just what I needed¡ªanother reminder that I don''t have a date. I sigh, gathering my stuff when Mr. Baldwin calls out, "Mr. Parker."

    I freeze. "Yes, sir?"

    He gives me one of those rare teacher-smirks that means he''s not that mad. "Good job on the final last week. You might make it through this class after all."

    I manage a smile, "Thanks, Mr. Baldwin."

    As I finish packing, Gwen walks up beside me, smiling as she waves goodbye to Liz.

    "So?" she asks, turning her full attention to me.

    She''s probably asking about the quiz we just took. You know, the pop quiz from historical hell.

    "Well... I finished it," I say, shrugging.

    She chuckles, her eyes sparkling with that look she gets when she''s trying to be encouraging. "Hey, that''s a start."

    We walk out of the classroom together, into the crowded hallway. Normally, this would be a good thing.

    But my mind is still focused on Harry who hasn''t come back to school since what happened with the Vulture, and... well, let''s just say my texts are collecting more dust than Aunt May''s old photo albums.

    I really should go see him. I will. It''s just... between classes, Spidey stuff, and life, it feels like there''s always something I''m not doing.

    Gwen must notice the frown creeping onto my face because she nudges me. "I''m sure you did great, Peter. After all, you''ve got the world''s greatest tutor."

    She''s talking about herself, obviously. Gwen could out-history Mr. Baldwin if she wanted to. Keep it together, Parker.

    "So," I blurt out, shaking off the serious thoughts. "You wanna get some after-school ice cream?"

    She thinks it over for a second. "Sure. But my dad''s been kind of strict lately about where I go. After the blackout this weekend, he''s been a little on edge."

    Yeah, can''t blame him there. Maxwell Dillon¡ªElectro¡ªnearly turned the city into a fried circuit board. And I can''t shake the guilt that creeps in whenever I think about it. I know there was a part of him that wanted to do good once, but... now? That part of him was probably lost forever.

    We walk through the busy streets of New York, our conversation drifting back to normal things¡ªhomework, finals.

    It feels good, walking with Gwen, pretending everything''s normal. Especially after everything we''ve seen... since that field trip to Oscorp.

    "I''m glad we''re done with finals," Gwen says, her shoulders relaxing a bit. "Now it''s just homecoming this weekend, and then Christmas break isn''t too far away. Though I haven''t even started looking for a dress yet."

    Homecoming. Right. The dance.

    I... uh, I don''t have a date. Not yet anyway. I mean, Gwen and Flash have been hanging out a lot lately, but... they''re not serious, right? So maybe I''ve still got a shot? I mean, I could totally ask her, right?

    Come on, Parker. This is your moment.

    We reach the ice cream stand and I watch her order her usual¡ªmint chocolate chip. Meanwhile, my heart''s racing faster than I''ve ever swung between buildings. I''ve got this. I''ve got this.

    "Hey, so about homecoming..." I start, my voice coming out a bit higher than I''d like.

    Gwen turns to me, taking a bite¡ªwait, is she biting her ice cream? Focus, Parker!

    "Yeah?" she says, raising an eyebrow.

    "Well... I was wondering if¡ª"

    And right on cue, my Spidey-sense goes haywire. Great. The universe just loves messing with me at the worst possible moments.

    My phone buzzes in my pocket, confirming the bad news.

    "Wait, what were you saying?" Gwen asks, still curious.

    I force a chuckle, already backing away. "Nothing! I just¡ªuh¡ªI''m actually late to meet Aunt May for dinner! See you tomorrow?"

    Gwen''s confused but smiles anyway. "Okay, bye Pete."

    I can feel her eyes on the back of my head as I dash off. Nice, Parker. Real smooth.

    Next time. Definitely next time.

    I duck into a nearby alley and change into my suit, yanking my mask down over my face. Whoever or whatever interrupted me from asking Gwen is gonna regret it.

    Big time.

    Because I was really gonna do it this time.

    I swear.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Wednesday, October 9th

    "Ladies, ladies. Wait your turn." I say, hands raised as I''m completely surrounded by a group of thugs. I''ve been tracking down people still supplying the Green Pill operations every now and then, making sure to keep them off the streets as much as possible, but this web runs wide.

    One of them, the big guy¡ªthere''s always a big guy¡ªsteps forward, cracking his knuckles like that''s supposed to scare me.

    "Hey, big fella," I quip, hopping up onto a nearby crate, "don''t suppose you''ve ever considered a different career path? I hear yoga''s good for the joints."

    He growls, of course. And swings.

    Too slow. I flip over his punch, landing lightly on his shoulders. "You know, flexibility''s key," I say, webbing his face to the side of a nearby van. "Let''s work on that, yeah?"

    Before the others can react, I sling two quick weblines at a couple of goons charging at me from the left, yanking them toward each other.

    Their heads meet with a satisfying thud.

    "Ooh, you two make a great team!" I hop down, dodging another thug''s wild swing with a casual spin. "You ever think about starting a podcast?"

    A few more charge me at once, clearly not learning from their friends'' mistakes.

    I leap up, sticking to a streetlamp as one of them trips over his own feet and faceplants into the concrete. "Careful, man! You''re gonna mess up your nose! I hear rhinoplasty''s expensive."

    Another thug tries to pull out a gun¡ªreal original¡ªbut I web it out of his hand before he can even aim. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! That''s not a toy!" I swing down, delivering a friendly kick to his chest, sending him crashing into a stack of boxes. "Safety first!"

    The big guy''s finally unstuck from the van, and he''s angrier now, charging at me like a freight train. "You just don''t give up, do ya?" I sigh. "Fine, last lesson."

    As he lunges at me, I flip over him again, this time webbing his legs together in mid-air. He stumbles and crashes face-first into the ground. "And that, my friend, is why you stretch before exercise." I dust my hands off like I just completed a particularly difficult yoga pose.

    Before I can say anything else, I hear footsteps behind me. Turning around, I spot Captain Stacy and his partner, looking less than thrilled to see me. Again.

    Captain Stacy crosses his arms, giving me his classic "I''d rather not thank you, but I have to" look. "Spider-Man," he says with a sigh, surveying the knocked-out thugs. "You know we had this handled, right?"

    I shrug, dropping from the lamp post and landing on the ground. "Handled? Cap, please, these guys were two steps away from forming a conga line."

    Stacy''s partner rolls his eyes, but Captain Stacy just shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, thanks for the assist. But, it''s getting kind of late don''t you have school?"

    "School? I''m Spider-"Man" remember?" I give him a mock salute, "Also you''re mighty welcome. Just doing my part to keep the city from falling apart one Goblin pill at a time." I shoot a web up to a nearby rooftop. "You guys can take it from here! I''ve got... dinner plans."

    And by dinner plans, I mean I''m already late to meet Felicia. Again.

    Gotta stop mixing up my schedules.

    I swing through the streets, heart racing, hoping I''m not too late. Aunt May''s probably wondering where I am.

    I''d told Felicia to meet me outside her restaurant, The Maple, because I figured Aunt May could use some help with the place, and Felicia... well, let''s just say a regular job could do her some good. Keep her out of trouble.

    I quickly unzip my backpack, changing into my normal clothes as quickly as I could, nearly tripping over myself in the process.

    But as I approach The Maple, I spot Felicia leaning against the brick wall outside, arms crossed, looking... less than pleased.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Late again, Parker. Great.

    I approach her slowly. "Hey, Felicia. Sorry, I got a little¡ªuh¡ªcaught up."

    Her icy blue eyes glance my way, and I notice¡ªanother bruise peeking out from under the collar of her jacket.

    I try to ignore the twisting feeling in my gut.

    "I didn''t think you''d show up," she says with a small smirk, though her voice lacks its usual edge.

    I hesitate, my mind racing. I want to ask¡ªreally ask¡ªabout the bruise, about what''s been going on, but Felicia and I... we don''t exactly do the heart-to-heart thing. "What happened?" I manage, motioning to her neck.

    Her smile fades instantly, her eyes narrowing. "Don''t worry about it."

    "Felicia¡ª"

    "I said, don''t worry about it, Peter," she says, more firmly this time. I let it go, for now, even though every instinct in me is screaming to push harder.

    "Look," I say, changing the subject, "just promise me one thing, okay? Don''t... don''t steal from Aunt May."

    Her smirk returns, though it''s half-hearted. "What kind of person do you think I am?"

    "I''m serious," I say, stepping closer. "This place is important to her, she and Uncle...look just please don''t, okay?"

    She rolls her eyes but eventually sighs. "Yeah. I promise, I won''t steal from your aunt."

    Good enough for me. For now.

    We head inside, where Aunt May is bustling around, taking orders like a pro. The restaurant smells like comfort¡ªcoffee, warm pie, the works. Aunt May catches sight of me and breaks into a wide smile.

    "Peter! You''re late," she says, but there''s no edge to her voice¡ªjust that familiar warmth. Her eyes drift to Felicia, and she gives a kind nod. "And you must be Felicia. Nice to meet you, dear."

    Felicia offers her hand, all polite-like. "Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker."

    Aunt May, with her ever-warm smile, clasps Felicia''s hand. "So, you''re looking for a job? If Peter didn''t already tell you, I definitely have my hands full with this place. As long as you''re willing to put in the work, I think I can give you a shot here. Although," she adds, with a more serious tone, "I do have some questions to ask you before I decide anything."

    Felicia''s usual cool demeanor falters for a second. She shifts her weight and forces a polite smile. "O-Of course, ma''am. Thank you so much for the opportunity."

    I bite my lip, trying hard not to laugh. Felicia Hardy¡ªthief, smooth talker¡ªwas nervous in front of Aunt May. Who would''ve thought?

    Felicia shoots me a deadly glare, her eyes narrowing like she''s ready to pounce. Message received.

    I quickly look away, doing my best to appear innocent.

    Aunt May gestures to the back room. "Let''s have a chat in private. Peter, why don''t you sit tight?"

    "Sure thing, May," I nod, finding a seat near the door. Felicia follows Aunt May to the back, and I can just about hear their voices fade as the door swings shut behind them.

    The smell of freshly baked pie wafts through the air, making me feel a little drowsy. I glance around the restaurant, which is mostly empty now that dinner rush has passed.

    My eyelids grow heavy as I listen to the muffled conversation between Aunt May and Felicia. I''m sure it''s mostly formalities¡ªwork ethic, hours, pay¡ªbut my mind starts to drift.

    Just a quick nap, I think, my chin drooping toward my chest...

    **

    I''m jolted awake when the door to the back room swings open. Aunt May steps out with Felicia right behind her.

    Felicia''s smile seems a little more genuine now, like the conversation helped calm her nerves. Aunt May gives me a pat on the shoulder.

    "Well, Peter, I think Felicia''s going to be a great addition to the team. You''ll walk her home, right? And go back home afterward while I finish up closing here."

    I blink, shaking off the remnants of my near-nap. "Uh, yeah, sure."

    Felicia crosses her arms, looking away, but there''s a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks, Mrs. Parker. I really appreciate this."

    "Don''t mention it, dear." Aunt May''s eyes twinkle as she waves us off. "Peter, make sure she gets home safely."

    "On it, May," I say, standing up and giving Felicia a little nod toward the door. "Ready?"

    Felicia shrugs and follows me out into the cool night air. For the first few blocks, it''s quiet between us.

    I can''t quite read her expression, and it''s clear she''s lost in thought. The silence feels a little awkward, but before I can think of something to break it, she speaks up.

    "Thanks, by the way," Felicia says, her voice softer than usual. "For helping me get the job."

    I glance at her, a bit surprised. Felicia''s not usually one for gratitude¡ªat least not without some sarcastic remark to follow. "No problem. I figured May could use some help, and... well, maybe a steady gig could help you break that habit of yours."

    She doesn''t reply immediately, just gives a small nod as we keep walking.

    Then, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out, and a smile crosses my face when I see it''s a text from Gwen.

    It''s a meme about some old comic strip we both love. I chuckle to myself, completely forgetting where I am for a second.

    "What''s so funny?" Felicia asks, glancing over.

    "Oh, uh, nothing," I say, feeling my face heat up. "It''s just Gwen. She sent me something dumb."

    Felicia''s eyebrow lifts slightly, but she doesn''t say anything right away. There''s something in her gaze, though¡ªa flicker of something I can''t quite place.

    "If you like her, you should ask her out," she says casually, though her voice has a bit of an edge to it. "Before somebody else does."

    I freeze up for a second, feeling my pulse quicken. "I¡ªuh, I don''t know if it''s like that with Gwen. We''re just... I mean, she''s..."

    Felicia smirks, shaking her head. "Sure, Parker. Keep telling yourself that." But her smile fades after a second, replaced with something more distant. She turns her attention back to the street ahead.

    What is going on with her?

    The rest of the walk is quiet again, but this time it feels heavier, like there''s something hanging between us that neither of us wants to address.

    As we near Felicia''s place, I hear something strange¡ªglass shattering from inside the building.

    Felicia tenses immediately, her eyes darting toward the sound. "Don''t worry about it," she says quickly, her voice firm but tight. "It''s just my dad. He''s probably... drunk again."

    I don''t like the sound of that, but before I can say anything, she turns to me, her expression set in stone. "Just go home, Peter. I''ll see you tomorrow for my first day of work."

    "Felicia, are you sure¡ª"

    "I''m sure," she cuts me off, more forcefully this time. "Go home."

    I hesitate, feeling the weight of her words and the underlying tension in her voice. But I don''t push any further. "Okay," I say quietly. "Just... take care of yourself, alright?"

    She nods, giving me a half-hearted smile before disappearing into the building. I watch the door for a moment longer, my Spidey sense nagging at the back of my mind.

    As I make my way home, I can''t shake the weird feeling in my gut. Felicia Hardy is a mystery¡ªone I''m not sure I''ll ever fully figure out. But tonight, she felt... different.

    Maybe we''re finally becoming real friends.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Thursday October 10th

    Star Trek. One of the greatest sci-fi franchises ever. Uncle Ben and I used to watch reruns every Sunday¡ªmovies, episodes, the whole deal.

    Now, I''m watching it with Gwen Stacy, on her couch.

    "People always bash the newer movies," Gwen says, eyes glued to the screen, "I''ve always thought they were okay. Like in this scene, Pike isn''t mad at Kirk for breaking the rule. It''s that Kirk lied. He didn''t take responsibility. That''s not what a captain does. A captain owns up."

    She keeps going, analyzing the scene, and I sit there smiling. Seriously, could there be a more perfect girl?

    "You''re right," I say. "Responsibility goes a long way." She nods, reaching for more popcorn.

    Suddenly, the front door swings open, and Captain Stacy steps in, grinning at the TV. "The First Duty of every Starfleet officer is to the truth!" he shouts, full-on ham. Gwen groans, but she''s laughing.

    "Dad, stop. You''re gonna make Peter think we''re a family of nerds."

    "That doesn''t sound too bad to me," I say, smirking at the both of them.

    "Trust me, Pete. My dad out-nerds us both. Don''t even get me started on his Jedi cosplay last year." Gwen shoots him a playful glare.

    Captain Stacy gasps dramatically. "Now hold on! My Jedi robes are cool. Besides, I recall you wearing that Terminator¡ª"

    "Dad!" Gwen covers his mouth. "Stop before I tell Mom who really ate her last piece of cheesecake."

    Captain Stacy''s eyes go wide with mock horror. "You wouldn''t."

    Gwen raises an eyebrow, daring him. I can''t help but chuckle.

    "Well, for what it''s worth, Captain, I went as a Stormtrooper a couple years ago." I say.

    "See, he gets it!" Captain Stacy says, beaming. "Why can''t you have more friends like Peter?"

    Gwen rolls her eyes. "Dad, I have plenty of other cool friends."

    "It''s true, sir," I add, trying not to laugh. "I''ve seen her around school¡ªshe''s got more people hanging around than I''ve ever even met."

    She smirks, leaning a little closer. "Been watching me, huh, Parker?"

    I immediately flush red. "W-What? No! Not like that!" Great, Parker, real smooth.

    Captain Stacy clears his throat, sensing my embarrassment. "Peter, Gwen tells me you''re Midtown''s smartest student. Oh, and call me George, by the way. I''m off-duty."

    Gwen nods, backing him up. "Yeah, first student in ten years to ace every entrance exam."

    I scratch the back of my head. "Yeah, who needs a tutor..."

    Captain Stacy smiles warmly. "Smartest guy in the room, huh? That can get lonely."

    For a moment, I think about Uncle Ben. The way he always had my back, always there with advice. "Yeah, but that''s why he''s got me." Gwen says, and I can practically feel my face exploding with red.

    There''s a weird moment¡ªsomething unspoken between us. Captain Stacy checks his watch and clears his throat again. "It''s getting late, Peter. Shouldn''t you be getting home?"

    "Yeah, of course. Thanks for having me." I stand, and Gwen follows me to the door.

    "You''re welcome anytime!" Captain Stacy calls after us as Gwen and I reach the porch.

    Gwen lingers at the door, her eyes still on me. "Thanks for the Star Trek hangout, Pete. It was fun."

    I nod. "Yeah, it was."

    C''mon, Parker. Ask her.

    "Look," Gwen starts, taking a breath. "These past few weeks have been really fun hanging out again. But now that we''re not tutoring each other anymore..."

    She hesitates, and I jump in, already assuming the worst. "Oh, yeah, no pressure. I get it. We don''t have to¡ª"

    She laughs softly, cutting me off. "No, Peter. That''s not what I mean. What I''m trying to say is... I just...uh...Will you go to homecoming with me?"

    I freeze. For a moment, everything feels like it''s moving in slow motion. My heart''s pounding in my ears, and I can''t tell if it''s from nerves or excitement.

    Her smile is soft. The wind blows gently, lifting strands of her hair.

    "I''d love to." I manage to say, finally finding my voice.

    She grins, and suddenly the air feels lighter.

    I stand there, grinning like an idiot.

    "I''ll see you at school tomorrow, Peter."

    "Yeah, see you," I say, still trying to process what just happened.

    As I walk away, I can''t help but smile to myself. Maybe things are finally starting to look up.

    Aw, crap. Did I just jinx it?

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Friday October 11th

    Dr. Otto Octavius, stood within the entrance of the compound of Ravencroft.

    The doors opening for him as if welcoming him home.

    He''d found the Warden''s weak spot, the weak spot that most men had, the one thing that would cause them to make the most irrational of decisions.

    He''d found his wife, his children, and he made a deal with him. Something that would keep him out of the limelight of the police, and keep what he was about to do hidden.

    Most of the staff, and guards had been released early, only a few with the promises of being paid off, had stayed behind to allow things to run smoothly.

    He met the warden in his office, "you...you won''t hurt them will you? They''ll be safe and after this we''ll be done?"

    Dr. Octavius smiles. "Yes, I assure you; that as long as you follow my instructions. You and your family will be kept out of harms way. But if you were to ever think about telling anyone about me what''s happening here..." His mechanical arm snapped just inches in front of the man''s face. "Well...I think you''ll find that things can change rather quickly. Now, where can I find what I''m looking for?"

    Dr. Octavius walked through the flickering sterile lights of Raven-croft.

    Only in the lowest, most secure levels, only the most dangerous threats to the city were contained, each in their specially reinforced cells.

    Dr. Otto Octavius stood in the dim light, his four mechanical arms twisting and flexing behind him, their metal gleaming with cold, lethal intent.

    This was the night he had been planning for, orchestrating every detail with precision.

    Tonight, he would assemble a group of individuals who together, would become something unstoppable, a power that the people of this world would be powerless against.

    He would answer to nobody, though, if he was being honest with himself, a tiny flicker deep in his heart wondered was this really what he wanted...or was it the machine attached to his body?

    Otto''s lips curled into a thin smile as he approached the first cell. Inside the adamantium cage sat a hulking figure, his body twisted and scaled, his reptilian eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

    "Dr. Curt Connors, I presume," Otto said, his voice smooth and calculated as his mechanical arm clicked a control panel, deactivating the glass wall that separated them. "Or do you prefer the Lizard?"

    Connors'' head snapped up, his long tongue flicking as he stepped forward. "Kill....I...kill....you...."

    Otto stepped into the room, unafraid, his mechanical appendages poised to strike if needed. "I am Dr. Otto Octavius. And I''m here to offer you a way out of this cage... and perhaps, a cure for your condition."

    The Lizard snarled, his claws flexing.

    Otto''s smile widened, though his eyes remained cold. "I can give you control. The ability to choose when you transform, or even end this torment. To cure you completely and fully."

    For a moment, the primal rage in the Lizard''s eyes flickered with something else¡ªhope, maybe, or desperation. Then he took a step back, studying the man before him. "End.....?"

    "Yes, end. But this will not come free of course," Otto said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Help me find Norman Osborn. And I will make sure you''re freed from your curse. And while you''re at it...you get to kill the spider."

    Connors'' eyes narrowed. He knew who Spider-Man really was, the boy who''d worked with him before...he lost his daughter...before his wife left him...before he''d turned into this monster. All this time trapped in that cage, parts of his memory...of his mind returned to him...but not enough.

    But Peter was also the one who''d prevented him from finding his cure...the one who left him here to rot. He let out a low growl, and a deep rage quelled within his eyes.

    Further down the corridor, Otto came to the next cell, where a hulking brute paced back and forth like a caged animal.

    Aleksei Sytsevich¡ªRhino. His cell was reinforced with adamantium as well, his massive body barely contained by the space.

    "You''re quite intimidating indeed," Otto called out, his mechanical arms extending toward the control panel again. "Although, I understand you''ve got some unfinished business with Spider-Man. And in turn...Norman Osborn."

    Rhino stopped in his tracks and turned, his broad, brutish face lighting up with recognition. "Norman! Green man!" His eyes lit up with anger. "Bug man! I will tear them apart!"

    Otto pressed a button, releasing the restraints on Rhino''s cell. "I can give you the chance to settle that score once and for all."

    Rhino''s lips twisted into a grin. "Do not mess with Aleksei."

    "This is no joking matter," Otto said calmly. "Norman Osborn has wronged all of us, Aleksei. And Spider-Man has stood in the way far too many times. Join me, and I promise you''ll get exactly what you''ve been craving."

    Rhino stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over Otto. "I will assist you. But if you think of double-crossing me I will rip¡ª"

    "You won''t get the chance," Otto interrupted, his voice steady and assured. "I need you as much as you need me."

    In another part of the facility, Mac Gargan¡ªScorpion¡ªsat in his darkened cell. Whistling as he stared at the ceiling above him. He barely registered the door sliding open until Otto Octavius stood in the doorway, the mechanical limbs extending toward him like serpents.

    "Mac Gargan," Otto greeted, "I hear you''ve been itching for a rematch with Spider-Man."

    Gargan narrowed his eyes. "The hell? Am I supposed''ta know you?"

    "You can think of me as someone who can give you back your sting," Otto said smoothly. "And someone who wants to make Norman, and Spider-Man pay. And you''re going to be part of it."

    Gargan rose slowly, his face twisting with a sneer. "Wow. Ominous. What''s in it for me?"

    "A new suit. More powerful than before," Otto promised. "You''ll be stronger, faster¡ªand you''ll have a chance to make Spider-Man suffer."

    Gargan took a step forward, remembering the feeling of being so close to taking Harry, and running off with his Payday from Norman Osborn.

    He could''ve lived any life he wanted, he was so close....with his fists clenched, and jaw tightened he smiles at the Doctor. "I mean, not like I really have many other plans anyways. Yeah, alright. Sounds fun. Love the chance to watch that bug squirm."

    The next stop on Otto''s recruitment mission was the darkest, most secure cell in the entire facility. Maxwell Dillon¡ªElectro¡ªhad been isolated, cut off from any source of electricity, his powers rendered useless.

    He sat in the darkness, his eyes closed, waiting. The screams of those innocents in the diner, the look on everyone''s faces when they''d realized what he''d done...the way he was cast aside by society...by Spider-Man, still fresh in his mind.

    The door slid open with a soft hiss, and Otto entered the room, his mechanical arms gleaming in the dim light.

    Electro''s eyes snapped open, a faint crackle of electricity sparking in his pupils as he sensed the presence of someone new.

    "Maxwell Dillon," Otto said, his voice carrying an air of authority. "You''ve been in the dark long enough. It''s time to return to the light."

    Electro sneered. "I know you. You''re that freak who attacked that school. You went crazy."

    "If I''m not mistaken, I believe those words could also apply to you," Otto replied smoothly. "I heard about your story. About what happened to you. What if I were to tell you; that the reason you gained these powers, were from the CEO of Oscorp himself...Norman Osborn? And that everything that happened was his little experiment."

    A dangerous glint sparked in Electro''s eyes, a faint crackle of electricity buzzing through the air. "Norman Osborn? He...he did this...to me? He ruined my life?!"

    Otto nodded a smirk forming in his lips. "Precisely. Which is why I want to allow you the chance to take him out. Along with the one who trapped you here, Spider-Man."

    Once again, his life was taken advantage of someone who thought nothing of him, who didn''t care what happened to Maxwell Dillion...then there was Spider-Man, who let him believe he could make more of his life.

    None of this was his fault.

    To him, it was their fault.

    "You get me out of here. And I will kill them both."

    Octavius smiled. "Very well."

    With his new recruits in tow, Otto Octavius led the group through the labyrinthine corridors of Ravencroft, moving with precision and confidence.

    They soon reached the final cell, where Adrian Toomes¡ªthe Vulture¡ªwaited. This time, there was no need for introductions. Otto had all but planned for this, and the old man already knew why he was there.

    "Adrian," Otto said, his mechanical arms unlocking the door, "are you ready to fly again?"

    Toomes looked up, his weary eyes filled with a burning desire for revenge. "Took you long enough, can''t believe I let you talk me into this crazy plan."

    With the Lizard, Rhino, Scorpion, Electro, and Vulture by his side, Otto Octavius had assembled a team with one goal: to kill Norman Osborn. And the pesky Spider that stood in the way.

    As the six of them walked out of Ravencroft, the air around them crackled with tension, each man fueled by his own hatred and lust for revenge.

    Octavius smiled as they stepped into the night, his mechanical arms flexing with anticipation. This was just the beginning.

    He had plans for this city, and none of them included a world where either Norman Osborn or Spider-Man was still living.

 Spidey No More

    My name is Peter Parker.

    And I was having such a good day.

    A perfect day.

    But as you''ll soon see.

    That day just got ruined.

    And it might just be my last.

    *

    "May! May! I need help!" I shout, stumbling down the stairs, clutching a tie that I''ve been wrestling with for the past hour and a half. Seriously, at this point, it feels like I''m trying to defuse a bomb.

    Aunt May glances up from her book with a smile. "Peter, you remind me so much of Ben. He used to come rushing down those stairs in the same frantic way whenever he couldn''t tie his tie."

    "Great, glad I''m keeping family traditions alive," I say, handing over the tie like I''m surrendering a hostage. "Honestly, why would they invent something like this? It''s like a puzzle nobody asked for. I bet even Aristotle would have a time with this thing."

    May chuckles as she effortlessly ties it for me. "That''s why you need a good woman in your life, Peter¡ªsomeone to help when you''re in a bind. Speaking of which, I still can''t believe you finally asked Gwendolyn Maxine Stacy to homecoming. You''ve been head over heels for that girl since, oh, before you were born."

    I feel my face heat up. "May, come on. It''s not like that. I mean, she might just see it as a... friend thing, you know?"

    May cups my face in her hands, her eyes twinkling. "Peter, any girl would be lucky to have you as a date. And if Gwen can''t see that, well, that''s her loss, not yours, my beautiful boy."

    I can''t help but smile at that. "Thanks, May. You''re the best."

    "Now, listen to me," she says, handing me my jacket and a bouquet of flowers. "You''re going to go to Gwen''s house, give her these flowers, tell her how beautiful she looks, and you''re going to show her the best time."

    I nod, suddenly feeling like I''m about to go into battle. "Right. Best time. Got it."

    Then the doorbell rings, and I practically jump out of my skin. "Uh... who''s that?" I ask, heading for the door, heart pounding. I open it and¡ªoh. It''s Felicia Hardy.

    Felicia stands there, arms crossed, looking as uninterested as ever. Her eyes lazily meet mine but...but...did her cheeks just go red?

    Nah. No way. Just because Gwen asked me to homecoming doesn''t mean every girl in New York is suddenly interested in Peter Parker.

    "You look... nice," she says, her face still unreadable.

    "Thanks. You look... not ready at all?" I blurt out, realizing Felicia Hardy is standing in my house. "Wait... what are you doing here?"

    Aunt May appears beside me. "Felicia asked if I could take her to work today, Peter. The diner''s going to be packed tonight."

    Felicia nods, her usual confidence softening a bit. "Yeah. Dances aren''t really my thing. Not to sound all emo or anything."

    "Just give me a second, dear, I''ll grab my bag," May says, heading to the kitchen.

    Felicia looks back at me. "So... you finally asked blondie to the dance, huh?"

    I can''t resist grinning. "Actually, she asked me."

    Felicia''s smile flickers¡ªjust for a second, like she''s debating something, but it''s gone so fast, I might''ve imagined it. Girls are confusing. But hey, I''m the one swinging around the city in red-and-blue spandex, so who am I to judge?

    "That''s... nice," she says, sounding more genuine than I expected. "I''m happy for you."

    "Happy? For me?" I glance around, half-expecting a hidden camera crew to pop out and tell me I''ve been punked. "Are you okay?"

    Felicia rolls her eyes but with a faint smile. "Yes, Parker. Is it so hard to believe I could be happy for my frie¡ª"

    She stops herself, and I raise an eyebrow. "You were totally gonna say ''friend.''"

    "No, I wasn''t."

    "Uh, yeah, you were. But hey, I''ll definitely take your friendship application into consideration. I''ll get back to you with my final decision," I say with a smug grin.

    Felicia shakes her head, fighting back a smile. "Just shut up. Shouldn''t you be leaving by now?"

    "Oh yeah, right!" I call over my shoulder, "May! I''m heading out! I''ll see you later!"

    "Okay, love! Sorry I can''t be there to see the big moment! Take lots of pictures! And remember¡ªhands on her hips!" May shouts from the kitchen.

    I blush so hard, I''m surprised my face doesn''t melt. "Right. See ya!" I wave to Felicia and quickly make my escape.

    As I head toward Gwen''s house, I can''t help but think Felicia seemed... different. No, no. Focus, Parker. You''re going to homecoming with Gwen Stacy.

    Nothing else matters.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I approach Gwen''s house, and somehow, these steps feel steeper than usual. My heart''s doing that annoying thump-thump thing, and my palms? Yeah, they''re sweating.

    Okay, Pete. You''ve got this. Just... knock on the door. Knock, greet her, hand her the flowers. Simple, right?

    What if I look awkward? What if she regrets asking me? What do I say to her parents? What if these flowers are terrible? Oh man¡ª

    The door swings open, and I''m face to face with George Stacy.

    "Peter! Thought I heard someone out here."

    "Oh... I, uh¡ª"

    "Come on in," he says, stepping aside with a smile.

    I step into the house, immediately greeted by the warmth of the place. The smell of something cooking lingers faintly in the air, and then Helen Stacy appears, drying her hands on a dish towel. Her younger son, Arthur, is sitting on the couch, eyes glued to a video game.

    "Peter!" Helen smiles warmly, her eyes soft as she takes me in. "My goodness, don''t you look handsome. I''m so glad Gwen decided to go with you and not... what''s his name? Flash?"

    I chuckle nervously, scratching the back of my neck. "Yeah, uh... I''m really glad too."

    Arthur barely glances up from his game but gives a quick, "Hey, Pete," before his eyes are back on the screen.

    Before I can say anything else, I hear the soft click of heels descending the stairs, and when I turn, there she is. Gwen.

    For a second, I forget how to breathe. She''s absolutely stunning. Her blonde hair frames her face perfectly, and she''s wearing this elegant dress that makes me feel even more out of my league. But then, I see it¡ªher cheeks are pink, her hands fidgeting slightly.

    She''s nervous too.

    "Hi," she says, her voice soft, and I realize I''m still standing there, staring like a doofus.

    "Oh, uh¡ªhi!" I say quickly, shoving the bouquet of flowers toward her. "These are...for you."

    Her eyes light up as she takes the flowers, blushing even more. "Thanks, Peter. They''re beautiful."

    I smile, feeling my chest lighten a bit. "Thanks, so...so am I¡ªYou! I mean so are...you..."

    Nice Parker.

    Gwen giggles, but then she smiles, and I can''t help but do the same.

    Helen pulls out her phone. "Okay, you two. Stand together, we need pictures!"

    I glance at Gwen, and she gives me a shy smile before we stand next to each other for the photos. Captain Stacy lines up a few more shots with his camera, and before long, it''s time to head out.

    "All set?" Captain Stacy asks, grabbing his keys.

    "Yeah," I nod, walking with him toward the door as Gwen follows behind.

    In the car, I quickly pull out my phone, texting Harry one more time. Hey man, heading to homecoming with Gwen. You good? But still, no reply. That familiar knot tightens in my stomach.

    The car pulls up outside the school, the lights from the dance flickering in the windows.

    Captain Stacy cuts the engine and turns to me, his expression more serious now.

    "Alright, Peter." He looks me straight in the eye. "I''m trusting you with my daughter tonight. I expect you to treat her right, keep her safe, and show her a good time. You understand? Oh, and remember, hands on the hips."

    I gulp, nodding quickly. "Yes, sir. I... I promise."

    But before I can step out, something slips out of my mouth without thinking. "Long live and serve, right, Mr. Stacy?"

    Captain Stacy''s eyes widen, and for a moment, there''s a strange, heavy silence in the car. His gaze sharpens as he looks at me, like something is clicking in his mind.

    I feel my own stomach drop¡ªwhy did I say that? That''s something Spider-Man said to him, not Peter Parker.

    But before he can say anything, Gwen grabs my arm. "Come on, Peter! We''re going to miss the first song."

    She pulls me out of the car, leaving Captain Stacy in stunned silence as we walk toward the entrance of the dance.

    As we walk away from the car, my mind''s racing. Did I seriously just say that? What if Captain Stacy remembers? He looked at me like he recognized it.

    But... maybe he doesn''t. Maybe I''m overthinking this. Yeah, it''s fine. He''ll probably just brush it off as a weird coincidence.

    Before I can dig myself deeper into that spiral, we walk straight into Flash Thompson. Of course, he''s got Liz Allen on his arm, looking every bit the smug quarterback I''ve always known.

    "Well, well, if it isn''t Parker," Flash says, his usual smirk tugging at his lips. But tonight, there''s something different in his tone. He looks me up and down, then glances at Gwen beside me.

    For a second, I brace myself for the usual barrage of insults. But then he surprises me.

    "Looking good, Parker," Flash says, giving me a small nod.

    What? Did....Flash Thompson just give me a compliment?

    I blink, completely thrown off. "Uh, thanks, Flash... you too."

    Without another word, Flash and Liz make their way into the crowded gym, disappearing into the throng of people. I stand there, still trying to process what just happened.

    Gwen nudges me with a smile. "That was sweet of him."

    "Yeah... yeah, it was." I shake my head in disbelief. "Weird night."

    "Come on," Gwen says, her eyes bright with excitement as she takes my hand. "Let''s go have fun before anything else weird happens."

    She pulls me toward the gym, and just as we enter, the lights dim, and the music shifts to something slow. Gwen gives me a mischievous grin.

    "Looks like perfect timing."

    Before I can protest or make some awkward joke about my lack of dance skills, she''s already leading me to the dance floor.

    My heart''s pounding, but this time, it''s not from nerves.

    It''s because I''m here, with Gwen Stacy, and she looks amazing.

    We find a spot among the crowd as the music starts to drift through the speakers.

    Gwen places her hands gently on my shoulders, and I remember Captain Stacy''s words, along with my Aunt''s and rest mine on her waist. For a moment, everything else fades away¡ªthe awkwardness, the stress, the thoughts about Captain Stacy¡ªand it''s just me and her.

    The first slow dance of the night.

    As we dance, I''m terrified she can hear my heartbeat¡ªit feels like it''s about to burst out of my chest.

    "Hey, Gwen... Can I ask you something?" My voice comes out a little shaky.

    Gwen smiles up at me. "Anything."

    "Why me?" I blurt out.

    She raises an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Why you what?"

    I take a deep breath. "You''re... well, you''re amazing. You''re smart, funny, bold, and... beautiful. And I''m, well, just me."

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Her expression shifts, becoming impossible to read. "I''m not hearing a question, Mr. Parker."

    I swallow hard. "Why did you ask me to the dance? I mean, you could''ve asked anyone. Why not, like... Flash or someone else?"

    Gwen tilts my chin up with her finger so I have no choice but to look into her eyes. "When are you going to realize how great you are, Peter Parker? I asked you because you''re the one I wanted to be here with. There isn''t anyone else I''d rather have asked."

    For a second, I''m speechless. Then, I can''t help but smile. She smiles back, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I don''t feel so awkward or out of place.

    The music sways around us, and we continue dancing, lost in our own world.

    Gwen Stacy really is the best.

    The dance was perfect, but the night wasn''t over. Afterward, we ended up at the place most teenagers do when they want to hang out a little longer: a diner. And, of course, we chose The Maple.

    "Look at you two," May said as she approached our table. "I remember when you''d run around our backyard playing princess and pirates with Harry and that other one... Mary Jane? Yes, she was a sweet girl."

    "Oh, May, please don''t bring that up," Gwen said, her face flushing. "Those days I''d rather forget."

    "Yeah, she''d much rather dress up as the Terminator these days," I teased, earning a laugh from Gwen as she sipped her water.

    May gave me a proud smile, the kind that made me feel like I was doing something right. "I''ll be right back with your usual orders," she said, disappearing into the back, where I spotted Felicia working¡ªavoiding eye contact.

    As soon as May left, Gwen leaned forward. "Did you hear about Spider-Man taking down that guy who caused the blackout last weekend? Can you even imagine?"

    I could. More than she knew.

    "These guys keep popping up all over," Gwen went on. "Let''s just hope they stay far away from our school for a while."

    "I hear you," I sighed. "I could use a break from psychos trying to blow everything up."

    "You know, I saw him up close once. Spider-Man, I mean," Gwen said. "During that whole thing with Dr. Octavius. He looks taller in person."

    I smiled a little too quickly. "Yeah, I get that a lot¡ª" I froze. "Too! I also get that, uh... about myself... a lot." I was digging myself into a hole, but Gwen didn''t seem to notice. "Spidey''s pretty great, right? Cool costume. Super dude."

    Gwen shrugged. "He''s all right, I guess. His costume could use a little work."

    "Really? I thought it was iconic¡ª"

    "Plus," she cut me off, smirking. "He''s no Peter Parker."

    My eyes went wide. Yep. She just said that. Gwen Stacy called me better than Spider-Man.

    But then, everything shifted.

    On one of the TV screens behind the counter, I saw something that made my heart drop. It was Times Square¡ªengulfed in chaos. Buildings were burning, and people were running in every direction.

    And then I saw him.

    Norman Osborn, bloody and barely conscious, trapped in the metal claws of Dr. Octavius. And he wasn''t alone. Surrounding him were five other familiar faces.

    As if the universe was mocking me, sirens screamed outside as police cars raced past the diner. Everyone turned to look, and Gwen''s hand tightened around her phone.

    "What''s going¡ª" Gwen began, but she stopped as she spotted the screen. "Oh my God. Is that... is that Harry''s dad?"

    May, wide-eyed, grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

    "¡ªIt''s been an hour since these individuals have taken control of Times Square. The area has been evacuated and sealed off by police. But the question on everyone''s mind is: What do these men want?"

    I knew exactly what they wanted. They had only one thing in common besides Norman Osborn.

    And that was me.

    "Gwen," May said, her voice tense. "Until this is over, you''re staying right here."

    Gwen nodded, already reaching for her phone probably to text her dad.

    But I knew I couldn''t stay. I had to go. They were looking for me.

    "May, I¡ªI need to go find Harry," I said, grabbing my jacket. "Make sure he''s okay."

    Gwen grabbed my arm. "Are you crazy? You can''t go out there," she pleaded, her eyes searching mine for some kind of answer.

    "Peter, sit down until this blows over," May added. "Harry''s fine. The police will handle it."

    I hesitated, looking between Gwen and May. Then, from the back, Felicia''s voice cut through the tension. "Uh, Mrs. Parker? There''s a... fire back here."

    May bolted toward the kitchen, and Felicia gave me a quick nod before disappearing.

    I turned to Gwen, knowing I was about to let her down. "I know you''re gonna totally hate me for bailing on you, but¡ª"

    Before I could finish, Gwen pulled me into a hug. "I know. For some reason, you always have to run off. And I get that you want to find Harry, so I won''t stop you. Just... please be careful."

    I squeezed her back, guilt gnawing at me. "I will. I promise."

    Because as much as I hate leaving her, there was only one person who could stop what was happening in Times Square.

    I have no other choice.

    Before I leave, I turn to her, "Thanks. For a perfect homecoming, Gwen Stacy."

    She smiles, stepping a little closer. "And thank you, Peter Parker. For the perfect kiss."

    I blink, squinting in confusion. "What?"

    And then her lips are on mine, quicker than I can even process. For a moment, everything else disappears¡ªno bad guys, no Spider-Man, no secret identity, no school, no bullies.

    Just me and Gwen.

    She pulls back, and I''m left standing there, stunned, a goofy smile creeping across my face. "I uh..."

    She laughs softly. "Just get going already. But promise you''ll come back as soon as you know he''s okay."

    I nod, still dazed. "Promise." With that, I head off, making sure she can''t see when I slip into an alley and start climbing up the side of a building. I need to stop by my house first, grab the suit... then pay a visit to some old friends.

    So yeah, amazing perfect day.

    Then...I just had to go and ruin it.

    ''Cause I''m well...y''know...me.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I swing through the city, feeling the heat from the burning wreckage below. Cars are overturned, smoke rises from shattered windows, and debris is scattered across the streets like something massive barreled through.

    I try not to look at the bodies. It''s not easy.

    Before long, I reach Times Square. The lights from police cars reflect off every surface.

    A wall of blue surrounds the perimeter, but none of the officers dare to get close to the chaos at the center.

    I land softly on the hood of a police car. "Captain," I say as Captain Stacy steps away from his team. He looks at me, and I can still feel the weight of our earlier conversation hanging between us.

    "Spider-Man¡ª" he starts.

    "If you''re going to tell me to leave, forget it. You know you can''t handle them all together. You''ve seen what just one of them can do." My voice is firm, and his face softens slightly.

    "Actually," he says, "we need you."

    I blink. Didn''t expect that.

    "How did they even get out?" I ask.

    Captain Stacy glances over his shoulder at the chaos unfolding beyond the police lines. "No idea. We''re working on that, the real problem right now is figuring out how to get them back in."

    I nod, but his eyes shift back to me. "Where''s Gwen?" he asks suddenly, his tone sharp.

    I freeze. My heart skips a beat. "Wha¡ª"

    "Look. We can go over how I know later," he says, his eyes burning into mine. "I just need to know if my daughter is safe."

    For a second, I can''t think of a single thing to say. My mind races, but all I can do is nod. "She''s safe."

    His shoulders relax, but only slightly. "Good. Now, first thing''s first¡ªtaking these guys down. We don''t know what they want yet, but we''ll support you any way we can. We''ve got snipers¡ª"

    "No." I cut him off. "Call off your men. They want me. I''ll handle this. No one else needs to get hurt tonight."

    He watches me, concern in his eyes. "Spider-Man, they''ll kill you. You''ve faced these guys before, and it''s never been pretty."

    I know. I know.

    "But if I don''t stop them," I say, webbing up, "who will?"

    Without waiting for a response, I launch myself into the air. My web shoots out, and I swing toward the center of Times Square.

    Police helicopters buzz overhead, their spotlights trailing me as I land in the heart of it all.

    The streets are a battlefield of chaos, and standing before me are six of the most dangerous men I''ve ever faced.

    Dr. Connors¡ªthe Lizard¡ªeyes me with that cold, reptilian gaze. He knows who I am. He''s seen my face. I hoped he''d forgotten while in his lizard form... but now I''m not so sure.

    Next to him is Mac Gargan, the Scorpion. He tried to take Harry before. Then there''s the Rhino¡ªthe toughest guy I''ve ever fought. The memory of him throwing me around like a ragdoll still haunts me.

    Perched on a lamppost, I see Vulture, his wings outstretched like a predator sizing up his prey. He doesn''t move, just watches with sharp, calculating eyes. The last time I saw him he was throwing me through buildings, and I can only imagine what he''s thinking right now.

    Max Dillon¡ªElectro¡ªis there too, glaring at me. His body crackles with blue energy, and he doesn''t say a word. Just watches, waiting.

    And then there''s Dr. Octavius. He places Norman Osborn, bloody and broken, on the ground and steps toward me, those mechanical arms shifting menacingly behind him.

    "Welcome, Spider-Man," Doc Ock says, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Welcome to the final chapter of our little game."

    I grit my teeth. "You think this is a game? People are dying out here. This¡ªthis is insanity."

    "Quite the opposite, actually." Octavius''s voice drips with arrogance. "You see, our combined power is greater than anything this city¡ªor the world¡ªhas ever seen. We no longer need to hide or take anything from anyone. And once we kill you, Spider-Man, and this vermin, nothing will stand in our way."

    He presses his foot down on Norman''s back, and Osborn groans in pain. I can''t help but feel a pang of sympathy. I know Norman''s involved in some of the things that''s happened to these guys, but this... this is more than he deserves.

    "Let him go," I say, my fists clenched. "Whatever he''s done, he deserves justice. Not this."

    "Justice?!" Rhino roars, stomping the ground so hard that the pavement cracks. "Your justice won''t help us! No, the only thing that will help is squashing you both like bugs!"

    Scorpion''s tail flicks dangerously behind him. "You don''t get it, Spider. You can''t stop us. No one can. We''ll kill you, then him, and then we''ll take whatever we want."

    I turn to Electro. "And you? Is this what you want? Didn''t you once want to help people? What happened to that?"

    Electro''s eyes flare with sparks, and his voice is cold. "You take from others before they can take from you. That''s what I''ve learned from you."

    "No... more... talking...!" The Lizard''s voice hisses, snapping me back to the moment. His speech is more coherent than before. Is he gaining more control in this form? Smarter, more dangerous... but there''s no time to dwell on that.

    Because I''m out of time.

    The moment Dr. Octavius''s mechanical arms start moving, I know I''m in trouble. They lash out, and I leap backward, barely dodging them.

    I can''t let them surround me. I have to keep moving, think fast.

    Rhino charges next, his massive frame barreling toward me like a freight train. I dive into a forward roll, his heavy feet stomping down where I stood just a second before. I web his back, swinging around a nearby lamppost, using my momentum to sling a kick into his face. His head snaps to the side, but it doesn''t slow him down.

    I flip back just in time for Electro''s blast of energy to crackle past me, lighting up the street with a blinding flash.

    I duck behind a burning car, the heat almost unbearable, and web a piece of the door, hurling it toward Vulture. He''s quick¡ªtoo quick¡ªand dodges it with ease.

    "Come on, Spider-Kid! Is that all you got?" Scorpion taunts, his tail smashing the ground with brutal force, sending debris flying.

    I dart between them, using the chaos to my advantage. I can''t overpower them. I have to outthink them. I web to the top of a traffic light, hanging above them.

    Dr. Octavius''s arms reach up to grab me, but I swing wide, looping around a building to break their line of sight.

    But then Electro. His lightning arcs across the square, catching my foot mid-swing. Pain explodes through my body, my muscles convulsing as I crash to the ground.

    My ears ring.

    I scramble to my feet just in time to dodge Rhino''s massive fist, but I''m too slow¡ªScorpion''s tail sweeps my legs out from under me.

    I hit the ground hard, and before I can move, Dr. Octavius''s arm slams down on my chest, pinning me to the pavement. His metal claws dig into me, squeezing the air from my lungs.

    "Is this how the great Spider-Man goes out?" Octavius sneers above me. "Not very heroic."

    I''m gasping for breath, my ribs burning, but I refuse to give in. "Not... done... yet!" I grunt, shooting a web to a nearby ledge and yanking myself free from his grip.

    I swing into the side of a building, my body aching with every movement. I try to get higher, to lead them away from the square.

    They follow behind me, aside from Rhino, who I assume is meant to watch Norman.

    I manage to dive through the window of a nearby building, glass shattering around me as I land in a dark hallway.

    My legs give out for a second, and I lean against the wall, breathing hard, every breath jagged and painful. My suit''s torn, my body battered, and my mind racing.

    I can''t win. Not like this. Not against all of them.

    Outside, I hear the chaos continuing¡ªthe police, the crowd, everyone''s watching.

    I know the cameras are on me. I can feel the weight of the world watching me get torn apart.

    I slide down the wall, my body screaming in pain. I''ve never felt this helpless before.

    My vision blurs as blood drips down my forehead, and I wipe it away, trying to clear my head. I can''t let them see me like this.

    Not the world. Not Aunt May. Not Gwen.

    But I don''t know if I''m getting out of here. Not this time.

    I look out the shattered window, seeing the shadows of my enemies moving closer. The Lizard''s growls echo through the night.

    They''re coming. They won''t stop.

    Not until I''m dead.

    I close my eyes for a second, my heart racing, and for the first time... I feel real fear. Fear that I won''t make it back. Fear that I''ll fail everyone I''ve ever cared about.

    Before I can fully catch my breath, I feel the cold, metal claw of Dr. Octavius''s arm latch onto my leg, yanking me through the window.

    My body crashes into the street below, skidding across the pavement as the world spins around me.

    I barely have time to react before Vulture swoops in, talons digging into my shoulders, lifting me high into the air.

    "Remind you of old times, bug?" he taunts, pulling me higher above the street, making me an easy target.

    Then I see the crackle of electricity. Electro''s blast hits me dead center, sending an excruciating jolt of pain through every nerve in my body.

    My scream is lost in the air as I''m launched from Vulture''s grasp, tumbling uncontrollably through the sky before crashing into the street below.

    I can barely lift my head, my vision blurring as I spot the Lizard barreling toward me, his claws tearing into my suit, ripping across my chest.

    I try to roll away, but his grip is too strong, pinning me down as he snarls, saliva dripping from his fangs.

    I twist my, barely dodging Scorpion''s tail as it slams into the ground beside my head, the blade embedding deep into the pavement.

    I kick out with everything I''ve got sending the Lizard flying backwards into a car, then knocking Scorpion off balance as he attempts to rip his tail free from the concrete, but it''s not enough.

    It''s never enough.

    Another crackle, another blast of electricity surges toward me.

    I throw myself to the side at the last second, and the bolt hits Scorpion instead. His scream of pain is drowned out by the chaos around me, but the shockwave sends me flying again, crashing me through the side of a nearby building.

    I hit the floor, glass and debris scattering around me as I land in a heap, my body completely wrecked.

    Blood drips from my nose, my chest burns where Lizard tore into me, and every breath feels like knives in my lungs.

    As I lie there, staring up at the flickering lights of the destroyed ceiling, something clicks in my mind.

    Electro just hit Scorpion. They''re strong, but they''re not coordinated. They''re reckless. If I can get them close enough together, I can use that against them.

    I push myself up, groaning through the pain, my legs barely holding me. I don''t know how much longer I can keep this up, but I have to try. I have to lure them in.

    I stumble toward the deeper part of the building, dragging myself through the rubble, glancing back to see the shadows of the five approaching.

    They''re hunting me, closing in fast.

    I bite back the pain, adrenaline kicking in.

    "Come on, Spider-Man. Come on, Spider-Man," I whisper to myself, the words rattling through my head as I push through the pain.

    Their footsteps echo closer¡ªheavy, deliberate. The sound of the Lizard''s claws scraping the concrete sends shivers down my spine.

    Come on.

    I press my back against the wall, my chest heaving as I listen to them getting closer.

    The shadows of the group stretch through the broken windows, their silhouettes twisted and monstrous.

    My pulse quickens, my hands are trembling.

    I hear the Lizard snarl, hear the crackle of electricity from Electro.

    They''re right on top of me now. This is it.

    With a deep breath, I leap from the shadows, webs shooting from my wrists.

    I yank down a support beam, sending a shower of debris onto the Lizard and Scorpion, momentarily knocking them off balance.

    I flip backward as Electro fires off a blast, dodging just in time, and the beam he hits explodes into a cloud of dust and sparks.

    I use the distraction to my advantage, swinging low and fast.

    I aim for Vulture, shooting a web to yank him from the air, slamming him into the side of the building.

    The concrete cracks as he hits the wall, and before he can recover, I web his wings, tangling them up.

    But I''m not fast enough.

    Dr.Octavius slams me into the ground. The impact knocks the wind from my lungs, and I barely manage to roll out of the way as another of his metal arms crash down where my head just was.

    My body aches, but I can''t stop moving.

    I scramble to my feet, launching myself off the side of the wall and landing behind Scorpion.

    His tail whips toward me, but I''m faster.

    I duck, and as his tail swings over me, I web it to a nearby pillar. He yanks it, trying to free himself, but I leap onto his back, using the momentum to slam him into the ground.

    But then¡ªzap!¡ªanother surge of electricity hits me square in the back, sending my body into convulsions. I drop to my knees, my head spinning, pain ripping through my muscles.

    "Just die," Electro sneers, his eyes glowing with menace.

    No. I can''t. I won''t.

    I push myself up, teeth gritted against the pain, and lunge toward the nearest wall.

    I use the momentum to wall-run along the side of the building, avoiding another barrage of lightning.

    As I run, I see my opening. I kick off the wall, webbing the ceiling above me and yanking down more debris. The rubble crashes down onto Electro and Scorpion, slowing them down just enough.

    I swing through the chaos, adrenaline keeping me moving. I catch Vulture trying to untangle his wings and web him again, this time pulling him into the Lizard, the two of them crashing into each other like bowling pins.

    Dr. Octavius, though¡ªhe''s smarter than the rest.

    He watches me, calculating. His arms extend, striking faster than I can dodge.

    One hits me in the ribs, another in the back, sending me sprawling across the floor.

    I cough, blood pooling in my mouth. I don''t know how much more I can take. Every hit feels like a hammer, every breath like fire.

    But I keep going.

    I leap onto the scaffolding, using the tight space to my advantage. They can''t surround me here. Scorpion charges, and I leap just in time, letting him plow into the support beams, the structure collapsing under his weight. He roars in frustration as he gets tangled in the debris.

    I swing back to the floor, landing in a crouch just as Scorpion lunges at me again.

    I grab his tail mid-strike, using his own momentum to flip him over my shoulder and into Electro, whose lightning surges through Scorpion, frying them both for a moment.

    I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, each thud slower, weaker.

    This fight is tearing me apart.

    I glance at Dr. Octavius, his mechanical arms twitching in anticipation, knowing he''s next.

    Come on, Spider-Man. Just a little longer.

    I barely have time to catch my breath before the ground shakes beneath me, heavy footsteps making the walls tremble.

    I look up, and there he is: Rhino, hulking into the building with Norman Osborn slumped over his shoulder like a ragdoll. His gray skin, slick with sweat and blood, glistens under the dim light.

    Dr. Octavius turns toward him, eyes narrowing. "What are you doing here? You were supposed to stay behind with, Osborn."

    Rhino shrugs, tossing Norman''s unconscious body to the ground like he''s nothing. "Didn''t wanna miss the fun," he says, cracking his knuckles. "Took care of pigs out there¡ªmade my way inside when I hear the ruckus." He grins, the wicked glint in his eyes making my stomach churn.

    I glance at Norman''s crumpled form, his chest barely rising and falling.

    Then I see the blood on Rhino''s skin. Fresh. Bright red. Cops. He killed them. My blood boils, and something snaps inside me.

    "You...you killed them," I say, my voice trembling with fury.

    Rhino''s grin widens. "And?"

    My fists clench so hard I can feel my nails digging into my palms. "You didn''t have to do that," I say, my voice low, trying to keep control of the anger surging through me. But it''s no use. He murdered innocent people just for fun.

    Rhino snorts. "They were in way. I remove them."

    Before I can react, Rhino charges. His massive frame crashes through the debris, faster than I expect.

    I leap into the air, barely dodging as he barrels past me, his shoulder slamming into the wall, leaving a crater in the concrete. The building shakes, and dust rains down from the ceiling.

    I land in a crouch, but the moment I steady myself, Rhino is already turning around, his eyes locked on me. "Now you die!" He charges again, and this time I don''t have room to dodge.

    His fist collides with my chest like a wrecking ball, sending me flying across the room.

    I crash into a pile of metal beams, my body screaming in pain. Every muscle burns, my ribs feel like they''re broken, but I force myself to stand.

    I can''t let this end here. Not like this.

    Please, not like this.

    Rhino stomps toward me, grinning like a predator that''s cornered its prey. "What''s wrong, bug? No more tricks?"

    I glance around the room, my brain working faster than my body. I can''t win in a straight-up fight.

    Rhino''s too strong. But I''ve got to even the odds. My eyes fall on a set of exposed water pipes on the wall, and a plan starts to form.

    I flip backward, webbing onto the pipes and ripping them open. Water sprays out, flooding the floor in a matter of seconds, creating shallow puddles across the room.

    Rhino doesn''t seem to notice, his heavy boots sloshing through the water as he comes at me again.

    "Gonna crush you like a bug!" he roars, his fists swinging wildly.

    I dodge, barely avoiding his blows, but I''m not aiming for Rhino anymore.

    My eyes dart toward Electro, who''s still recovering from when I threw Scorpion into him.

    This has to work.

    "Hey, Sparky!" I shout, goading him. "You tired already? What happened to not letting anyone take from you anymore?"

    Electro''s eyes narrow, the electricity around him intensifying.

    From behind me, I hear Dr. Octavius yell, "Wait! Don''t¡ª"

    But it''s too late.

    Electro releases a massive bolt of electricity, aiming right for me.

    I leap into the air, webbing Norman to me just as the electricity hits the water-soaked floor. The room lights up in a blinding flash as the current surges through the puddles.

    Rhino screams as he''s fried by the electricity, his massive body convulsing before collapsing to the ground. Scorpion, Lizard, and Vulture drop like stones, the electricity tearing through them, too.

    I land hard, placing Norman down somewhere safe, as my vision swims from the smell of ozone and burnt flesh.

    Dr. Octavius manages to shield himself with his metal arms, but the others? They''re down. For now.

    I stumble to my feet, my body aching, but I can''t stop now. Electro''s weakened from his own attack, staggering as he tries to recover. I see my chance.

    I web the busted pipe, using the water like a fire hose, blasting it directly at Electro. He screams as the water slams into him, shorting out the last of his power. His body twitches uncontrollably as I lunge forward, delivering a hard punch to his gut.

    I keep hitting him, again and again, my fists moving on pure adrenaline. He tries to spark up one last bolt, but he''s done.

    The fight''s draining out of him, and before long, he''s lying there, unconscious.

    I stand over him, gasping for air, every inch of me throbbing with pain. The others are still down, groaning in agony from the electric shock. I''ve taken out five of them.

    Suddenly I''m slammed into a wall, the force rattling through my bones like a car crash. Everything hurts¡ªmy body, my mind¡ªeverything.

    It would be so easy to just....

    Dr. Octavius approaches slowly, his metallic arms clicking and whirring with each step. He''s smiling, though there''s exhaustion in his eyes. "Fitting, isn''t it?" he says, his voice almost gentle. "You, at my feet. This is the end, Spider-Man."

    So...this is the end?

    I don''t see my life flashing before my eyes, just moments from today.

    A perfect day.

    Homecoming. Gwen''s smile. Her kiss.

    Every perfect second that I got to be just Peter Parker.

    Gwen.

    "You asked me why you?" Her voice echoes in my head, the memory of her soft smile lingering. "Sure, you''re smart and talented and sweet. But what really stands out is how, no matter what you go through, you stay you. You keep moving forward... usually with a dumb joke. And I love that."

    Always move forward?

    Dumb jokes?

    Yeah...

    Sounds like me.

    I fire a web at Dr. Octavius''s face, the sticky strand catching him by surprise.

    Before he can react, I lunge at him, driving my shoulder into his chest, knocking him to the ground.

    His metal arms thrash, trying to find me, but I dodge, quick as I can, slamming one of them into his own face. His glasses shatter, and blood streams from his nose.

    "End of the line, Doc," I mutter, my voice shaking with the effort it takes to stay upright. "But not for me. It is however, the end of this suit." I deliver a final jab, knocking him cold as his head hits the ground with a thud. "Where should I send the bill? Oh, yeah, prison."

    I stand there for a moment, looking down at him, the remnants of the group scattered around.

    I should feel victorious.

    I should feel something.

    But all I feel is exhaustion.

    I collapse with my back against the floor, arms spread wide.

    The blood is seeping out of me faster than I can stop it, staining what''s left of my torn-up suit. I can barely breathe, every inhale feels like a dagger to my ribs.

    I could move.

    Maybe.

    But I''m not sure if I want to.

    I see Norman Osborn, still lying there, unconscious and battered. A wave of dread slams into me.

    Oh god.

    Harry.

    In the chaos of everything, I''d forgotten. What if something happened to Harry? My mind spins. No. He''s safe. He has to be. Norman was probably at work when they grabbed him. Harry''s at home¡ªhe''s got to be.

    But then, the piercing sound of sirens fills the air, getting louder, closing in on us. They''re almost here.

    I try to push myself up, but the pain is unbearable, each movement agony. My legs tremble under the weight, and I stagger forward, one step, two... then my body gives out, and I collapse onto the cold concrete.

    I gasp for air, my vision blurring, my muscles seizing. No... I can''t stop here. If I black out, if the police find me like this... they''ll take off my mask. They''ll see who I am. I''ll lose everything.

    But my mind is slipping, thoughts dissolving into the black void creeping in.

    I fight it¡ªGod, I fight it¡ªbut there''s nothing left in me.

    Everything fades.

 Aftermath

    Gwen watches the television in horror, her eyes locked on the screen as Spider-Man stands against the sinister figures looming over him. She recognizes some of them¡ªVulture, his brutal rampage through Oscorp still etched in her mind, and Dr. Octavius, from the day he almost killed them all during his presentation.

    Aunt May paces the room, phone in hand, frantically texting Peter. Why did you leave? You''re grounded. Please be safe! Each message more desperate than the last.

    Felicia stands off to the side, staring at the broadcast, her fists clenched tight. Gwen catches the shift in her expression¡ªFelicia, who was usually composed and indifferent, now looked like she was on the edge of something dark, something angry.

    Gwen had never seen her like this.

    "Gwen," May''s voice trembles as she approaches. "Did Peter say if he''d be staying with Harry? He''s not answering, and it''s been so long..."

    Gwen''s heart twists with guilt. She hadn''t stopped Peter when he left¡ªshe thought he''d check on Harry and come right back. But now, nearly two hours had passed. Peter hadn''t responded to any of her messages either. "No... No, he didn''t. I''m so sorry, May. I shouldn''t have let him leave."

    May''s face softens, though the worry never leaves her eyes. "It''s not your fault, sweetheart. He would''ve gone, no matter what we did to stop him. He loves Harry."

    The newscaster''s voice cuts through the room. "Spider-Man has now engaged with the six individuals, but... oh god..." The voice fades, and all eyes turn to the screen, where Spider-Man is being mercilessly beaten.

    Felicia''s eyes widen in disbelief. Her heart races as she watches the scene unfold, horror gripping her. That''s Peter. Peter Parker¡ªthe nerd she teased endlessly, the guy who was always there, offering help without hesitation, even when she pushed him away. She had never said it out loud, but Peter was her friend.

    And now she was watching him die. On live television.

    Felicia''s stomach tightened with every punch Spider-Man took on the screen. She''d helped patch him up after countless fights, after every bruise and broken rib.

    She knew how bad it was fighting just one of these maniacs. But now there were six. Six of them tearing him apart, and the more she watched, the more the dread sank in¡ªPeter might actually die.

    Her eyes drifted to May, who stood by the television, phone glued to her ear as she repeatedly dialed Peter''s number, her fingers trembling.

    May had no idea. She didn''t know that her nephew, the boy she raised, was the one behind that mask, fighting for his life while she waited for him to call her back.

    Gwen''s fingers fumbled with her phone as she frantically called Harry. The phone barely rang before Harry answered.

    "Gwen?" His voice was shaky.

    "Harry, oh my god. Are you okay?" Gwen asked, her words tumbling over each other in panic.

    "Yeah, I''m... I''m fine." Harry''s voice cracked, the sound of someone holding back tears. "But Dad... he didn''t come home. The police, they showed up and told me what was happening... My dad... they took him."

    Gwen''s heart shattered. She could hear the fear in Harry''s voice, the helplessness. She couldn''t imagine what it was like for him, knowing his father was caught in the middle of all of this.

    If it were her father, she didn''t know how she''d hold it together.

    May''s voice broke into her thoughts. "Is that Harry? Is he okay? Is he safe?"

    Gwen nodded slowly, but her mind was already racing. "Yeah, May. He''s safe." Then, turning her attention back to Harry, she asked, "Harry, is Peter there with you?"

    "Peter?" Harry sounded confused. "No, he''s not here. Why? Is something wrong?"

    Gwen''s blood ran cold. She turned to Aunt May, her face pale. "He''s not with Harry..."

    "What?" May''s eyes widened. "What do you mean? Where is Peter?"

    Gwen opened her mouth to answer, but her throat tightened. "I...I don''t know."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    ONE WEEK LATER....

    A week had passed, but it felt like an eternity. The school was closed indefinitely, the county still reeling from the destruction that ripped through the city.

    Gwen sat on the edge of her bed, the afternoon sunlight casting long shadows across her room.

    The television flickered, showing the news broadcast she couldn''t tear herself away from. Norman Osborn, standing at a podium, spoke with a somber expression, his face still marred by fresh cuts and bruises from the attack.

    "I''m happy to announce that Oscorp will be covering all damages done to the city," Norman said, his voice calm but strained. "And we are setting up funds for the families of those who lost loved ones in this terrible incident. We''ll do everything in our power to make things right."

    Gwen''s heart clenched. Her eyes stung as the tears began to form, but she didn''t blink them away.

    She couldn''t stop wondering¡ªwhat if Peter was one of them? One of the bodies they pulled from the wreckage? The police and rescue teams still hadn''t found everyone.

    And Peter... he''d just vanished. He wasn''t with Harry. He wasn''t answering his phone. He was just gone.

    She hugged her knees tighter, watching Norman on the screen, but her mind was elsewhere.

    Peter had promised he''d be right back.

    The front door creaked open downstairs. Her dad must be home from the station. Gwen quickly wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself before she went to talk to him. She needed answers. She needed hope, even if it was just a small glimmer.

    She found her father in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee, his shoulders slumped with the weight of everything happening.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    He looked older, more tired than she remembered. When he saw her standing there, his expression softened.

    "Hey, sweetheart," he said, trying to smile, but it didn''t reach his eyes.

    Gwen swallowed, her throat tight. "Dad... is there any word on, Peter?" Her voice was barely a whisper, her heart pounding as she waited for an answer.

    Her father''s face fell, and without a word, he set down the cup and walked over to her, pulling her into a tight hug. Gwen buried her face into his shoulder, her tears finally spilling over.

    "They''ll find him," he whispered, his voice low and comforting. "We''ll find him, Gwen."

    But the words didn''t stop the ache in her chest.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Gwen stops in front of the Maple, her eyes catching sight of Harry and Felicia standing by the entrance, putting up posters with Peter''s face on them. The sight twists something deep inside her. It feels unreal.

    Harry notices her first, his frown deepening as he steps away from the poster he''s just put up. "Hey, Gwen," he says quietly, pulling her into a soft hug. "How are you holding up?"

    Gwen tries to offer a smile, but it''s fragile, wavering at the edges. "I don''t know, Harry. It just doesn''t make sense. He can''t just be... gone."

    Harry''s hug tightens for a second, as if he can somehow shield her from the truth neither of them wants to accept. "He''s okay. I know he is. Peter''s always been a little lost... but he''ll come home. He always does."

    Gwen nods into his shoulder, but the words don''t comfort her the way she wishes they would.

    The world has turned upside down, and no one has answers.

    When Harry pulls back, his eyes are red, and he has dark circles under his eyes, his skin is more pale, and he''s sweating, but he tries to keep his voice steady. Gwen appreciates his attempts to console her, but she can see the fear eating away at him too.

    Felicia works silently beside them, stapling another photo of Peter to the wooden post. She doesn''t say much, but Gwen notices the tension in her shoulders. Felicia isn''t one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but there''s something raw about her today.

    Felicia has heard the same news everyone else has¡ªhow Spider-Man, against all odds, somehow managed to take down the six of them. The police found the unconscious bodies of the villains, battered and defeated. But when they searched the building, neither Spider-Man nor Norman Osborn was anywhere to be found.

    Felicia figured he was just lying low, healing from whatever injuries he took in the fight. Peter has always come to her after things like this, always needing someone to patch him up. But days pass. Then a week. And still... nothing. No messages. No visits. Nothing but an empty, sinking feeling.

    She staples another photo to the post, the sound loud in the quiet street. Her eyes briefly flick toward Gwen and Harry, but they don''t meet hers.

    Where are you, Parker? she thinks, her fist tightening around the stapler.

    The silence is unbearable.

    Gwen pushes open the door to the Maple, the familiar scent of food doing nothing to ease the weight pressing down on her chest.

    The place is quieter than usual, but her eyes are drawn immediately to a familiar figure in the corner booth¡ªMay. She''s hunched over, phone clutched tightly in her hand, speaking to someone on the other end.

    "P-A-R-K-E-R, Parker. Peter Parker," May''s voice trembles, her usually strong demeanor cracking. "They said they were looking for him, but I haven''t heard anything ba¡ª" Her voice breaks for a moment before she steels herself. "He''s my nephew, and he''s fifteen! He''s out there alone! He could be hurt or... or..."

    Gwen stops just inside the door, her heart breaking at the sound of May''s voice. It''s raw, filled with a desperation Gwen hasn''t heard before.

    May''s words fade into sobs, and Gwen watches as the older woman slowly lowers the phone, her hand trembling.

    She looks so small, so lost. For a moment, May just stares at the table, her grief pressing down on her, silent and unbearable. Then she breaks, tears slipping down her cheeks as she leans forward, her body shaking.

    Gwen moves toward her without a second thought. She slides into the booth beside May, gently wrapping her arms around her in a quiet embrace. May startles slightly, not realizing Gwen was there, but when she looks up, her eyes are swollen and red, her face pale with worry.

    "Oh, Gwen..." May whispers, trying to wipe away her tears quickly, to compose herself. But it''s no use. She can''t hold it in any longer.

    "It''s okay," Gwen says softly, hugging her tighter.

    For a moment, neither of them says anything. The only sounds are the faint murmurs of other customers and the clatter of dishes from the kitchen.

    The silence between them is heavy, but somehow, it brings comfort. They don''t need to speak to understand what the other is feeling.

    Gwen''s heart aches for May, for herself, for Harry, and even Felicia. They''re all caught in this horrible, waiting limbo. And Peter... wherever he is, whatever has happened to him¡ªshe can only hope he''s still alive.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The scene shifts from the quiet embrace in the Maple to a dark, cold room¡ªits walls lined with machines humming softly, casting a sickly green glow.

    The air is thick, damp, and sterile.

    Norman Osborn stands tall, his hands clasped behind his back, gazing down at the unconscious body of Peter Parker¡ªstill in his tattered Spider-Man suit.

    Peter''s mask, now removed, lies discarded on the floor.

    Norman tilts his head, a twisted smile curling at his lips. "Of all the people in this city," he murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement. "My son''s best friend... Peter Parker. Who would''ve thought?"

    He crouches down, his eyes scanning the young boy''s face, noting the bruises, the cuts, the blood still drying on his skin. "You''ve been hiding in plain sight this whole time," he says, almost admiringly. "I''ll admit, I didn''t expect this. Not from you. Quiet, polite, unremarkable Peter Parker."

    Norman straightens, a vial of glowing green liquid twirling between his fingers. He holds it up to the light, the green swirling inside like venom, potent and alive. "But it all makes sense now, doesn''t it?"

    He steps closer to Peter, his shadow falling over him. "The strength, the resilience, the ability to survive what should have killed any ordinary man. Yes, you''re the one who stole the Spider aren''t you? I''m not sure how you could''ve done it. But that doesn''t matter now, because it worked."

    He pauses, narrowing his eyes at Peter''s body, noticing something peculiar. The bruises that were once dark and angry are fading, the cuts beginning to close, scabs already forming. "I couldn''t believe that your body began to heal itself...so quickly..." Norman mutters, fascinated. He kneels down, his hand brushing over Peter''s shoulder, pressing into the skin slightly. "You were half-dead just days ago, and now look at you. Healing, recovering at a rate I''ve never seen."

    He chuckles softly, almost lovingly, like a father admiring a son''s accomplishments. "You helped me create perfection, Peter," he whispers. "The pinnacle of human evolution. You''ve shown me what''s possible, and now, thanks to you, I have everything I need."

    Norman''s eyes gleam with twisted pride as he gazes at the vial. "This... this is the future. My future. And it''s all thanks to you, Peter."

    He steps closer to the unconscious boy, his voice lowering as he reflects. "At first, I thought evolution would come through technology¡ªyou''ve seen my creations. The Scorpion suit, the Vulture MKIII. But in the hands of fools, even the best tech is wasted." He chuckles, shaking his head. "That''s when I brought in Doctor Octavius. We worked on merging technology with the human mind, but he was too cautious. I had to... make adjustments without him knowing. We both saw how that ended."

    He glances at the vial again, a bitter smile forming. "Then there was DNA alteration. Doctor Connors and I worked endlessly, but Aleksei, Maxwell... even Conners himself, their transformations were flawed, unstable. They weren''t the answer. And my Goblin Pills, a personal project¡ªtemporary boosts, no lasting impact."

    Norman kneels beside Peter, his voice taking on a softer, almost reverent tone. "But then, I found you. You kept your physical form, your humanity, and gained incredible abilities. You''re what comes next, Peter. You''re the key to true evolution."

    Norman place''s a cold hand on Peter''s chest. "I suppose I should thank you," he says, his voice lowering into a sinister whisper. "You''ve played your part so well."

    Peter''s breath is shallow, his body completely still, unaware of the man standing over him, the monster he helped unwittingly create.

    "But don''t worry, Peter," Norman adds, standing back up, his eyes fixed on the unconscious boy. "I''ll release you now that you''re no longer useful to me."

    He walks a few steps away, pausing as he looks at the vial once more. The smile creeps back onto his face as his fingers tighten around the glass. "But don''t think for a second that our work together is finished. No... it''s just beginning. And don''t worry, this little secret will stay between us."

    The room grows colder as Norman''s laughter fills the air, low and menacing.

    Peter lies still, unaware of the nightmare that awaits when he finally wakes up.

 Days Gone By

    My eyes flutter open, and I''m met with the sharp sting of blinding lights. The room around me feels sterile, unfamiliar. I hear a voice¡ªfrantic, soft but full of relief.

    "Oh, Peter! Peter!" Hands are suddenly on my arm, gripping me gently but firmly. "He''s awake! He''s finally awake!"

    The sound is distant, like it''s being pulled through water, but as my vision starts to clear, I recognize the voice, though my brain can''t yet make the connection. I feel a hand brushing my cheek, and then another voice speaks, softer, like a memory tugging at the edges of my mind.

    "Peter? Please, it''s us. We''re right here."

    I blink slowly, squinting to adjust to the light. That voice¡ªit''s familiar. It reminds me of... "Gwen?" My voice cracks as I whisper her name, my throat dry, each word scraping against it like sandpaper.

    Gwen''s face comes into view, her eyes wide and tearful, standing just beside the bed. Then I turn to my right, and see the other face¡ªthe one who had spoken first. It''s May, her eyes filled with tears that seem to have been building for a lifetime.

    "Peter, yes, it''s me. I''m here." Gwen''s voice is soft, but the emotion weighs heavy on each word. She''s standing so close, I can see the strain on her face. My vision sharpens, and I realize I''m in a hospital bed, the faint beeping of machines surrounding me.

    A hospital...? How did I end up here?

    "May?" I say, my voice hesitant and hoarse. "What''s... what''s going on?"

    May''s trembling hand brushes my cheek again, and I can feel the desperation in her touch. "It''s okay, sweetheart. You''re safe now. You''re in the hospital. They... they found you buried under rubble a week ago. A whole week, Peter. You''ve been here, unconscious, this entire time. They couldn''t identify you because you... you weren''t awake to tell them anything. But thank god¡ªthank god Norman found you here at the hospital. He''s the one who called us."

    "Wait... a week? I''ve been out for an entire week?" Panic seizes my chest, but May''s words hit me harder. "Norman? Norman Osborn? He was the one who found me?"

    Both May and Gwen exchange glances, confusion flickering between them. May nods slowly, her expression softening. "Yes, Peter. Norman''s the one who called us. He found you asleep here, somehow, and made sure you were safe. He said you must''ve been caught in the destruction when that awful fight broke out downtown... and¡ªoh, Peter, I thought I lost you."

    May''s voice falters, and the weight of her words crashes into me like a wave. I can see the pain etched in her face, the sleepless nights, the endless worry. She looks at me as if I''m a fragile ghost, something that could disappear at any moment.

    I swallow hard, but my throat is raw, dry, and my mind is spinning with too many questions¡ªtoo many pieces that don''t fit. Norman? He found me? Does he know? How did I get here? What happened to my suit? My head aches, the unanswered questions piling up like rubble in my mind.

    But despite all the confusion, I know I need to calm May. She doesn''t deserve to carry any more of this fear, this uncertainty.

    "I''m... I''m okay. I''m fine." The words feel hollow, but it''s the best I can offer. I force a smile, one that I hope can convince her, if only for a moment.

    May shakes her head, wiping at her tears, her fingers trembling. "I''m going to get the nurse, have them check on you." Her voice cracks again. "Don''t move¡ªjust stay there. I''ll be right back." She moves quickly, almost as if she''s afraid that if she blinks, I''ll disappear again, before slipping out of the room.

    Now it''s just me and Gwen. She stands there, arms crossed, biting her lip, her eyes brimming with unspoken questions and emotions. She''s not smiling. Not yet. The worry clings to her like a shadow.

    "Peter... you just disappeared," she whispers, her voice barely holding steady. "We... we didn''t know what happened to you. What happened that night?"

    The fear in her voice grips my chest tighter than anything. I want to tell her the truth¡ªI want to say that I don''t know how I ended up here, and that the idea of Norman Osborn finding me terrifies me more than anything. But the truth is, I can''t even piece it together myself. There''s too much unknown. The thought that he might know my secret¡ªthat he might''ve seen who I am under the mask¡ªsends a chill down my spine.

    Gwen notices the way my face hardens with the effort to remember. She reaches out, placing her hand gently on mine. The warmth from her touch grounds me.

    "Hey," she says softly. "You don''t have to think about it right now. You''re safe. That''s all that matters. You''re safe."

    Her smile¡ªso genuine, so warm¡ªmakes the chaos in my head dull, if only for a moment. In that smile, there''s a promise that, just for now, I don''t have to worry. Just for now, I can be okay.

    I nod, leaning back into the bed, the exhaustion already pulling at me again. "Yeah... okay."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Hours pass before they finally let me leave the hospital. The doctors say my injuries aren''t as bad as they first thought and that I should be fine with rest. I''m handed a fresh pair of clothes and a bottle of painkillers that, frankly, I probably don''t even need. Despite everything I went through in that fight, my body has healed almost entirely.

    May and Gwen cling to me as we make our way out, each holding onto me like I might fall apart at any moment. I glance at May and try to lighten the mood with a nervous smile. "May, I''m okay, you know? I can walk just fine. You guys don''t have to hold on so tight." I chuckle, but it''s weak, half-hearted.

    Gwen shoots me a look¡ªstern, but with that familiar warmth behind it. "Better safe than sorry, Peter."

    May nods vigorously, her eyes still glossy, the threat of tears lurking just beneath the surface. "She''s right, Peter. Just... don''t. Don''t complain. Please."

    I sigh softly, knowing better than to argue. "Okay, okay. Sorry."

    The car ride home is quiet. Gwen sits beside me in the backseat, her arm wrapped tightly around mine, her head resting on my shoulder. If I weren''t so anxious about the possibility that Norman Osborn knows who I am, this might''ve ranked as one of the best moments of my life.

    Actually, it still kind of does.

    I mean... we kissed. Before all this chaos, on the night of homecoming, Gwen Stacy kissed me.

    I blush just thinking about it.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Does that mean she likes me? Holy crap, is Gwen Stacy my girlfriend?

    No. Get a grip, Parker. Don''t get ahead of yourself.

    But as I feel her grip tighten around my arm, my heart stutters in my chest. I glance down at her, my expression softening. She looks so peaceful, even though I know neither of us feels at peace right now. Still, in this moment, I allow myself to enjoy the closeness.

    As soon as May parks outside Gwen''s house, the weight of everything comes crashing down on me again. Captain Stacy. He knows who I am. He told me before I left for the fight. It doesn''t look like he told Gwen, or Aunt May, but...can I really count on him? Would he keep my secret safe?

    "Okay, Gwen," May says, turning back to us, "go on inside, grab what you need, and be sure to say hi to your parents for me."

    I look at May confused. "Grab what she needs?"

    May sighs, her voice softening. "Gwen''s been staying with me since Norman called to tell us you''d been found in the hospital. She''s been helping around the house, at the restaurant... It''s been hard, Peter." She glances down, trying to keep her composure. "I really can''t thank you enough, Gwen."

    Gwen gives a small smile. "It''s no trouble at all, really. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, Peter. It wasn''t just me¡ªFelicia and Harry too, we were all really worried."

    Harry. Felicia. I hadn''t even thought to check on them yet. I don''t even have my phone¡ªit''s probably still in my bag, stashed in some alley from before the fight. I hope it''s still there.

    "I see," I manage to say, surprised that Captain Stacy would even allow Gwen to stay with May. Then again, knowing him, maybe he understood why she felt she had to.

    "I''ll be right back," Gwen says, opening the car door.

    "I''ll come with you," I say quickly, stepping out with her and following her to the front door.

    As we walk, she glances at me with a smile, her fingers slipping between mine. My heart races. Gwen Stacy is holding my hand. Gwen Stacy is holding my hand.

    The front door opens, and my thoughts come to a screeching halt as I''m met with George Stacy. His expression is... unreadable. "Peter," he says, his voice filled with something close to relief¡ªthough still guarded. Before I can respond, he pulls me into a hug, a quick but firm one that takes me off guard. "I''m glad you''re okay. You had us all worried," he says, pulling back to clear his throat, trying to regain some formality. "I had a feeling you''d turn up."

    Gwen stands by, smiling awkwardly at her dad''s expression. "He was really worried, Peter. He searched for you every night. You should''ve seen the look on his face when they said you were found."

    That surprises me. Captain Stacy? Every night?

    He clears his throat again, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. "I''m just doing my job as a police captain. I couldn''t stand to see my daughter cry because her boyfriend was missing."

    Gwen blushes a deep red. "Dad..." she mutters, embarrassed, and he raises his hands in surrender, a small smirk forming.

    "Why don''t you go on up and grab your things? I want to have a quick word with Peter," he says, kissing her on the forehead. She nods, giving me a reassuring look before heading upstairs.

    As soon as she''s gone, Captain Stacy''s face turns serious, his eyes locking onto mine. "Peter. Where were you? Do you have some kind of secret hideout or something? Somewhere you were staying?" He leans in slightly, lowering his voice. "Because of your... you know."

    I sigh, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on me again. This is the second person who knows. Maybe Felicia was right¡ªI''m really bad at keeping secrets. "No, I don''t have a hideout. And I honestly don''t know where I was."

    He frowns. "You don''t know?"

    "After the fight, I could barely move. I passed out. I figured that was it, that my secret would be out. But when I woke up, I was in the hospital. No costume, no sign of the guys I fought. Just... nothing. And it turns out Norman Osborn was the one who found me at the hospital." My chest tightens as I say his name, the fear creeping back in. Norman Osborn knows.

    Captain Stacy''s eyes narrow. "Norman? When we found the others¡ªthe... powered individuals, we didn''t find you. Or Norman."

    My heart skips a beat. The only person who could''ve pulled me out of that mess... was Norman Osborn. He must know. He knows I''m Spider-Man.

    Before I can process that any further, Gwen comes back down the stairs, a bag slung over her shoulder. "Okay, Dad. I''ll see you tomorrow," she says, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

    George forces a smile, turning back to me. "We''ll talk more later, Peter. It''s good to have you back. Oh, and, separate rooms you two."

    I blush, nodding awkwardly. "O-Of course. Sir."

    Gwen''s face is also red. "Dad, we know. Please."

    Captain Stacy smiles then he waves us off as Gwen takes my hand again, leading me back down to the car where May is waiting.

    As we head toward the car, the weight of what just happened settles deeper in my chest. George Stacy knows my secret. And now, so does Norman Osborn.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    In my room, everything feels... off. It''s the same as always¡ªmy bed, my posters, my desk cluttered with half-finished homework and forgotten projects¡ªbut somehow it all feels foreign. Out of place.

    Flashes of the battle flicker in my mind, the chaos, the fear, the violence. What do I even call them? The "Evil Crew"? "Bad Batch"? "Six Dumb Jerks"? I don''t know, but whatever I call them, I can''t shake the memories. The raw intensity of it. Just how close I came to dying.

    How close I came to failing.

    I almost hurt Aunt May again. I almost lost whatever it is I have with Gwen¡ªwhatever we could be¡ªI almost threw it away. Harry almost lost someone else important in his life.

    I sit down on my bed, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. I lay back, staring at the ceiling, and the weight of it all hits me. I was terrified, and part of me is too scared to even admit that out loud. Is it okay to feel like this? Is it okay to feel fear?

    I''ve fought guys with guns, with advanced tech. Heck, I even fought a rabbit once. Shouldn''t I be used to this by now? Used to the threat of death, the danger that comes with this life?

    The door creaks open. "Hey, Gwen''s all settled downstairs¡ª" May''s voice cuts off as she sees my face, and before I can even react, she rushes over to me, wrapping her arms around me, pulling me into her embrace.

    "May..." I choke out, trying to fake a laugh. "I''m okay¡ª"

    "Shhh," she whispers, holding me tighter. "It''s okay, baby. It''s okay."

    She doesn''t say anything else, just holds me, and for a little while, it feels like I''m a kid again. Like I''m back to the nights when I was afraid the monsters in my closet were going to get me.

    When you''re a kid, you''re told those monsters aren''t real. That they''re just a figment of your imagination. But I know better now. I''m older, and I know that monsters do exist.

    They''re out there.

    And they''re terrifying.

    Eventually, May falls asleep beside me, her arms still loosely wrapped around me. I slowly, carefully lift her arms and slip out of bed, gently tucking the covers around her.

    I make my way downstairs, and there''s Gwen, fast asleep on the couch with the TV on, playing some old western I''ve never seen before. I can''t help but smile. Such a nerd.

    I open the door and step outside, the cold night air biting against my skin. I take one last look at Gwen before stepping out into the windy night.

    There''s someone I need to talk to.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    After stopping by the alley to grab my bag and phone¡ªboth of which, miraculously, survived a week in New York, which might just be the craziest thing to happen all week¡ªI finally make it to my destination. I crawl up the fire escape to Felicia''s window, trying to figure out what to say.

    Yes, I know this is creepy, but I feel like I owe her a visit. Her and Harry.

    I freeze when I spot her inside, wide awake, but she''s... taking off her shirt?! I lose my grip for a second, barely catching myself as I scramble to look away. My heart pounds in my chest, and I wonder if sneaking in through her window was a terrible idea.

    After a moment, I knock softly on the glass. Nothing happens at first, and then the window slides open. Felicia stares down at me, her expression a mix of confusion and irritation. I give her a sheepish smile and wave before she grabs my arm and pulls me inside.

    "Hey, Felic¡ª" I start, but she slaps me before I can finish.

    Then... she hugs me.

    More hugs for Peter Parker today, apparently.

    "Where were you?" she asks, pulling back and staring at me with an intensity I can''t read. I''m terrible at reading her.

    "I... I don''t know," I admit, and she shakes her head, clearly not satisfied with my answer.

    "No. That''s not good enough, Parker," she says, pushing me back a little. "Try again."

    I take a step forward, my voice steady this time. "I''m serious, Felicia. I don''t know. After the fight, I was done. I couldn''t move. I thought I''d blown my secret, but then I wake up in the hospital a week later, no suit, no bad guys, nothing."

    She turns away, biting her lip. "I had to lie. To your Aunt, to Osborn, to that blonde girlfriend of yours," she says, crossing her arms. "They all wanted to know where you were. What happened to you. And I told them nothing. Nothing about the fact that it was you out there fighting those freaks."

    My expression softens as I look at her. "Thank you, Felicia. Really. I''m glad you didn''t say anything."

    She lets out a sigh, sinking down onto her bed. "I thought you were dead, Parker. I thought you were lying in some alley somewhere, alone, bleeding out. I looked for you..."

    "You didn''t have to do that¡ª"

    "What?!" she snaps, frustration flaring in her eyes. "Of course I did. No one else knows! No one else knows it was you out there risking everything to save the city. I... God, Peter, I hated lying to your Aunt. It felt wrong."

    "I''m sorry, Felicia," I say, sincerity heavy in my voice. "I never wanted to put you in that position. It''s why I don''t tell anyone. Not Gwen, not Harry, and definitely not May."

    She rolls her eyes. "It''s annoying when you do that...just...don''t apologize. You did save a lot of people out there." A faint smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "Hero."

    I turn away, unable to meet her gaze. "Yeah, well... there''s a lot of people I didn''t save."

    Felicia groans. "Stop that, Parker. If it weren''t for you, a lot more people would have died. Including Papa Osborn."

    A tightness grips my chest at the mention of his name. "Yeah. Maybe. But, Felicia... he knows."

    She narrows her eyes. "Knows what? Who does?"

    "Norman Osborn," I say, feeling the weight of the words as I speak them. "He knows I''m Spider-Man. I don''t know how, but he was the one who found me after the fight. And he hasn''t said anything, but... he knows."

    Felicia looks away, processing. "So, he knows. But he hasn''t told anyone. That''s good, right?"

    "I don''t know what he''s thinking," I admit. "But all those guys I''ve been fighting¡ªthe Goblin pills, everything¡ªit was him. He''s been pulling the strings. All this time, he''s been playing me."

    Felicia''s face tightens as she takes it in. "That''s... messed up. You need to talk to Harry."

    "What? No. I can''t tell him any of this. How could I? That his dad is some evil scientist experimenting on people? No, Harry''s already been through enough."

    Felicia rolls her eyes again. "Yeah, well, your buddy''s already going through something else right now. He''s been acting off¡ªjittery, distracted. I''ve seen it before, Parker. He''s using."

    "What? Harry?" I stammer, disbelief flooding me. "No, that''s¡ª"

    "It''s true. I followed him one night. Turns out your best bud has been on our favorite little green pill." She explains.

    I run my fingers through my hair, my mind racing. "Okay. Okay, I''ll talk to him. But not tonight. I¡ªI need time rest. I really thought that was it for me, that I was done."

    Felicia watches me, her expression still unreadable. "Peter..."

    "Yeah?"

    She looks away, her voice soft. "I''m glad you''re not... you know¡ªdead."

    I smile faintly. "Yeah, me too."

    Tomorrow, it''s time I pay a visit to the Osborn household.

 The Man With The Green Skin

    I wake to the smell of eggs and... bacon? The bed next to me is empty, which means Aunt May is probably downstairs making breakfast. I rub my eyes, grab a shirt, and head downstairs, yawning as I go.

    "May, what''re you making? It smells really good," I call out as I reach the kitchen.

    But when I step inside, it''s not May I see¡ªit''s Gwen, standing by the stove with a spatula in hand. She turns to me with a warm smile. "Hi."

    I feel my face flush, momentarily forgetting that Gwen Stacy had stayed the night. "Uh... hey, Gwen. Smells... good."

    She smiles and turns back to the pan, her blond hair catching the morning light. "Oh, yeah, this... I just thought you might be hungry. I''m sorry¡ªI know I should''ve asked first, but May had to leave early, and she asked me to stay here with you so I just...I thought I''d make you some breakfast. I know it''s probably weird."

    I shake my head, walking over to her. "Don''t worry. It looks great," I say with a smile, and she grins back, her eyes sparkling.

    "Yeah? I make breakfast all the time for my dad because he''s always in such a rush to leave," Gwen laughs, her voice light. "Kinda like you, actually¡ªhe forgets to eat, so I get up early to make sure he has something."

    I smile at the thought. I definitely wouldn''t mind if Gwen made me breakfast every morning. "Your dad''s a lucky guy." I pause for a moment, feeling the weight of something that''s been lingering between us. "There is... something I wanted to ask."

    She glances over, curious. "What''s up?"

    I swallow hard. The kiss. The moment that''s been stuck in my mind, but with everything that happened, we never got to talk about it. Is now even the right time? She thought I was dead a few days ago, but I can''t keep waiting.

    "Well, I mean... there''s this thing that happened, uh... like... well..." I trail off, fumbling with the words.

    "The kiss?" Gwen says, her back still turned as she grabs the bacon and places it on the plates, her voice casual like she wasn''t completely throwing me off balance.

    I feel my cheeks burn. She''s always been more direct than me. "Yeah. The kiss. Was that... a mistake?" The question hangs in the air, and honestly, I''m not sure I even want to know the answer.

    Finally, she turns, holding two plates¡ªone for me, one for her¡ªand sits beside me, her usual smile softening her features. "No, Peter." She blushes, setting the plate in front of me. "It wasn''t. I meant everything I said that night."

    I feel my own smile spreading, this warm feeling of relief and something more. "Yeah?"

    Gwen places her hand on mine, and the touch sends a little shock through me. "Yeah."

    Is this real? Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy? It feels impossible.

    But maybe, just maybe, nearly getting killed was worth it after all.

    Maybe.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Hey, Gwen. I''m headed out for a little while, so... just make yourself comfortable. I''ll be back soon," I say, grabbing my jacket and slipping on my boots.

    Gwen''s beside me in a second, her expression tight with concern. "Where are you going?"

    I can see it in her eyes¡ªthe worry, the fear that''s still lingering from my disappearance. Of course, she''s still shaken by it. Who wouldn''t be? May probably asked her to stay with me while she''s at work. To watch over me, make sure I don''t go running off into danger again.

    "Just to Harry''s place," I offer, trying to sound casual, like this isn''t a big deal.

    But her face falls, and her voice softens. "Okay, then I''m coming with you."

    "Gwen, it''s fine. I''ll be¡ª"

    "Please." She cuts me off, her eyes searching mine, pleading. I can feel how much it means to her to be there, to make sure I''m safe. And after everything, I don''t have it in me to say no.

    I sigh, forcing a small smile. "Alright, you win. Let''s go."

    As we step out, Gwen''s hand finds mine, and I let her hold on. Maybe part of me wants her there just as much as she wants to be. As we walk through the streets, the reality of what happened hits me all over again. Buildings reduced to rubble, the scars of the battle with the Sinister Six etched into the city itself.

    I failed to stop all of this.

    Sure, they''re in prison now, but the damage was already done. But the blame doesn''t just sit with them alone, Norman Osborn has to answer for what he''s done too.

    We hail a cab, and before long we''re standing outside the gates of the Osborn mansion. It''s the same as ever¡ªpristine, untouched. Like nothing ever happened.

    The grass is still perfectly cut, the mansion gleaming like it''s brand new. But I know the truth. Things aren''t as perfect as they seem.

    I hesitate at the front door, my heart pounding in my chest. I haven''t seen Harry since the Oscorp incident, and I haven''t seen Norman since the attack when he supposedly "found" me at the hospital.

    But he knows. I''m sure of it.

    He knows who I am.

    Gwen squeezes my hand, grounding me. "I''m sure he''ll be happy to see you''re okay."

    I nod and knock on the door. Footsteps echo behind it, and when it opens, I''m greeted by someone I''ve never seen before¡ªa girl around our age. Her eyes are glazed, distant, like she''s barely aware of what''s happening.

    "Who are you?" she asks, her voice slow, slurred.

    "I... I''m here to see Harry," I reply, glancing at Gwen. Something''s off, and I can feel it in my gut.

    The girl shrugs, stepping aside. "Oh, you must be the dealer. Yeah, come on in. We''ve been waiting."

    Dealer?

    I glance around the room as Gwen and I follow her inside, and my stomach drops. The place is a mess. People are scattered everywhere, sprawled across furniture, some too drunk or high to even notice we''re here. It''s a far cry from the mansion I remember.

    Norman must not be here, he''d never allow for this.

    Then I see him, slumped on a couch with a girl by his side, a bag of green pills resting in his lap. My heart sinks. Felicia was right.

    "Harry?!" I rush over, dropping Gwen''s hand as I snatch the bag away from him.

    "What the¡ª" He looks up, ready to snap, but when his eyes land on me, his anger melts into something softer, sadder. "Pete? Man... I heard you were in the hospital. I didn''t...know they''d let you out already. I would''ve come by, I swear..."

    He stands, wrapping his arms around me in a shaky embrace, and for a moment, I just let him. I don''t know what to say.

    "I can see you''ve been... busy," I mutter, glancing around at the chaos.

    Harry pulls back, looking defensive. "Look, it''s not like you''ve been great about checking in either. Besides, it''s not like Dad ever comes home anymore to even see this mess. And when I thought... when I thought you were dead..."

    His voice cracks, and the guilt I''ve been carrying tightens around my chest like a noose. I failed him. I wasn''t there when he needed me.

    "I get it, Harry," I say softly. "I do. But this stuff?" I hold up the bag of pills. "It''s dangerous. You can''t keep doing this."

    He scoffs, his expression hardening again. "What? So you just came here to lecture me? To look down on me, like you always do?"

    There''s a heat in his eyes that wasn''t there before¡ªanger, frustration, pain. But this isn''t the Harry I know. This is something else. Those pills are warping him.

    "That''s not why we''re here, Harry," Gwen steps in, her voice calm and gentle. "We came to check on you. Peter''s okay. He''s here, and he cares about you."

    Harry sighs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I-I''m fine now, okay? So just give me the pills. Please, Pete."

    I shake my head, holding them out of reach. "No, Harry. These won''t help you. We can, but not this."

    He reaches for them again, more desperate this time, grabbing me by the collar. "Just give them to me!"

    "Harry, stop!" Gwen pulls him back, and for a second, I see the real Harry, the one I know. He''s looks so lost. He''s broken. And it''s my fault. I wasn''t there when he needed me the most. I was too busy playing hero, too distracted by my own battles to notice the one he was fighting right in front of me.

    "Harry," I start, my voice barely above a whisper, "I know I haven''t always been there. But this... it''s not the way."

    He glares at me, his eyes dark and sunken, his voice laced with bitterness. "Oh, you''re here now? You''re gonna help me, Pete? Like you helped me at school when that freak came after me? Like you helped when Felicia dumped me? Like you helped when I got kidnapped at Oscorp? Every time I needed you, you were gone. You always leave."

    His words hit me like a punch to the gut, each one a reminder of every failure, every time I let him down. He''s right. I wasn''t there. I couldn''t be.

    But before I can respond, Gwen steps between us, her voice firm but gentle. "Peter went after you, Harry, that day at Oscorp, he...he risked his life for you because you''re his friend. Peter might not have been there every time, but he''s here now. And he cares about you, Harry. We both do."

    Harry''s eyes flicker with something¡ªmaybe regret, maybe pain. But he looks away, shaking his head. "Just... go. Both of you."

    He motions for us both to leave through the door, Gwen and I oblige, making our way out the door, I turn to him. "Harry, please..." I try one last time, but the door''s already closing on us.

    Outside, I stand there for a moment, staring at the bag of pills in my hand, the weight of them heavy in my pocket. Gwen touches my arm softly. "What now?"

    I swallow hard, trying to push down the guilt that''s threatening to swallow me whole. I need to figure out what Norman''s up to. I''ll find out what these pills really are. As bad as I felt, I needed to find a way to be alone for a few hours so that I could try and sew together an all new suit, which might take a day or so. Which I don''t even have the time for. "Let''s go stop by the Maple."

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    She nods, and we try and hail down another cab.

    Norman''s behind it all. And now, Harry''s caught in the middle.

    I can''t let him fall any further.

    I won''t let him.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I push open the door to the diner, Gwen following close behind. The place is nearly empty, the soft clink of silverware barely filling the quiet. At the counter, Felicia''s wiping down the surface, but the moment her eyes land on me, her face shifts¡ªserious, urgent. She''s mouthing something, trying to get a message across, but I can''t make out the words.

    Before I can even try to decode her silent warning, Gwen tugs at my sleeve. "Come on, Peter," she says, guiding me toward a booth by the front window.

    Reluctantly, I follow and sit down across from her. But Felicia''s still staring, still trying to tell me something, her hands moving subtly as if spelling out a code I should understand.

    I glance at Gwen. "Give me a sec."

    Standing up, I begin making my way over to Felicia. I''m about to ask what''s going on when the back door swings open. The sound stops me in my tracks.

    I turn¡ªand there''s Aunt May, smiling as she walks out. But behind her, looming like a shadow from my nightmares, is Norman Osborn.

    My whole body locks up, every muscle frozen in place. He''s here. Right in front of me. And that smile¡ªthe same practiced, charming smile that fooled everyone¡ªpaints his face like nothing''s wrong. Like he''s just a regular man. But I know better. Now, I see right through it.

    "I can''t thank you enough, Norman," May says warmly, glancing back at him. "I had no idea hospitals could charge so much."

    "It''s nothing, really," Norman replies smoothly, flashing that same disarming grin. "Peter''s been such a good friend to my Harry. Helping out is the least I can do. After all, we''re practically family."

    My heart races. Does she not know? Does he know that I know?

    May notices me standing there, stiff and silent. "Peter, honey, are you feeling any better?"

    I force a smile, trying to ignore the thudding in my chest. "Yeah... I''m fine." The words come out too quickly. I can''t even decide where to look¡ªMay, Norman, the floor? All I can think is: Don''t let him see it. Don''t let him see what you''re thinking.

    May beams. "We''ve got Mr. Osborn to thank for paying off your hospital bills. And it''s a good thing he found you when he did, after the accident."

    I feel my throat tighten. I manage to nod. "Y-Yeah..." Hold it together, Parker. "I, uh... I guess I never really got the chance to thank you properly, Mr. Osborn. And I''m glad to see you''re alright, after everything that happened."

    Norman''s smile deepens, and before I can react, his hand is on my shoulder¡ªheavy, too familiar. "Yes, well, I owe it all to Spider-Man. He made sure I was safe and sound. Thank god for him, right?"

    My blood chills at the mention of Spider-Man. He''s testing me. He''s watching for a reaction. Is he trying to bait me? "Yeah... Spider-Man," I mutter, swallowing hard. "He''s... good at that." My voice barely keeps steady.

    Norman''s hand lingers a moment longer, then slips away. "It''s good to see you on your feet, Peter. You''ve been through a lot."

    I nod, trying to keep my face neutral. "Thanks again for your help. Really."

    He nods, turning back to May. "I''ve got to head back to Oscorp, lots of work waiting for me. But, Peter," he says, pausing to look at me one last time, "I really am glad to see you''re doing well."

    His eyes linger on mine for a beat too long, that same unsettling charm behind them, before he turns toward the door. He gives a brief wave in Gwen''s direction as he leaves, and just like that, he''s gone.

    The tightness in my chest hasn''t left. If anything, it''s worse now. My breathing feels shallow, the weight of everything pressing down harder. Did I say too much? Should I have told him about Harry? Does he already know?

    I try to focus, try to pull myself together, but the questions swirl in my head like a storm, each one louder than the last. What''s Norman planning? What game is he playing, and how much does he know?

    May cups my cheek, her thumb brushing against my skin as she gives me a worried look. "What''s going on with you, Peter? You look so pale. Did you even eat today?" she asks, turning her gaze to Gwen. "Did he eat this morning?"

    Gwen steps closer, her tone gentle but firm. "Yeah, he ate. But we''ve been running around all day, and maybe he should head back home. I can take him if you''d like," she offers, her eyes flicking over to me like she''s waiting for me to admit something''s wrong.

    "Guys, I''m fine. Really," I say, trying to deflect their concern with a light chuckle. "You don''t need to act like I''m made of glass." I plaster on a small smile, but I know I haven''t been myself. The weight of everything¡ªHarry, Norman, Spider-Man¡ªit''s all gnawing at me. Still, I can''t let them see that.

    May doesn''t seem convinced, but she sighs, letting it go for now. "Alright, since you wanna move around so much, you can help me around the diner," she says, her tone turning brisk as she hands me a towel. "Poor Felicia has been wiping down tables all week by herself."

    "I''ll help too," Gwen pipes up immediately, stepping beside me with a grin. "We''re a team."

    I glance over at her, catching that playful glint in her eyes. I don''t know exactly what we are right now¡ªif we''re even something official yet¡ªbut I like this. Whatever it is, it feels easy with her. Comfortable. "Oh yeah? Well let''s see if your tutoring skills cover cleaning tables," I tease, nudging her shoulder.

    Gwen rolls her eyes but smiles, nudging me back. "I''ve cleaned tables before, Peter. And for your information, I''ve been helping your aunt out more than you know, so I''m basically a pro."

    Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Felicia glancing my way again. It''s brief, almost too quick to catch, but there''s something in her eyes¡ªsomething she''s not saying. She''s been distant, quiet even, and I can''t shake the feeling that she''s holding something back.

    I watch her for a moment as she wipes down the counters, and I wonder, Does she need to talk? I haven''t seen any new bruises on her lately, which is a relief, but I know her too well¡ªshe wouldn''t tell me what''s really going on even if I asked. She''s stubborn like that, and I''ve been too caught up in everything else to check in the way I should have.

    I look down at the towel in my hand, my fingers tightening around it. There''s this constant tug-of-war inside me¡ªbetween being Peter Parker and being Spider-Man, between helping the people I care about and constantly feeling like I''m not doing enough.

    It''s like I''m always missing something, always one step behind, and that thought twists in my gut as I realize how much I''ve let slip through the cracks.

    Harry, Felicia, Gwen... I need to do better. I can''t keep neglecting the people around me. I have to find a way to balance it all, or eventually, everything''s going to come crashing down.

    "Hey, you alright?" Gwen''s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, her hand resting lightly on my arm as she looks at me, concern flickering in her eyes.

    "Yeah," I say, forcing a smile. "Let''s see if you can keep up with me, Table-Cleaning Expert."

    She laughs, the sound light and easy, and I feel a little of the tension in my chest loosen. But as we get to work, wiping down tables side by side, I can''t help but glance at Felicia again, the unspoken tension between us simmering beneath the surface. And in the back of my mind, the image of Harry''s broken, angry face flashes again.

    I''ve got to find a way to fix things¡ªbefore it''s too late.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Felicia and I sit side by side at the back of the diner, wiping down the greasy stove together. The faint sound of clinking dishes and the soft murmur of customers fills the air. I''ve just finished explaining everything¡ªabout Harry, the pills, and the weight of Norman knowing my secret.

    "I don''t even know where to start," I admit, staring at the stubborn stain on the stove. "I don''t even understand what those pills are doing to Harry, let alone what Norman''s next move is now that he knows... everything."

    Felicia snorts, her lips curling into that familiar sardonic smile. "Your life sucks, Parker."

    I glance up, catching sight of Gwen across the room, laughing with May as they finish wiping down the tables. The warm light through the windows catches in her hair, and for a moment, the world feels just a little less heavy.

    "Not all of it," I say softly.

    Felicia follows my gaze, her eyes lingering on Gwen for a moment before something shifts in her expression¡ªjust a flicker, but enough for me to notice. Her usual mask of indifference cracks, if only for a second.

    "I can see that," she mutters.

    I tilt my head, watching her carefully. "Is something bothering you?"

    She shrugs, quick to brush it off. "No."

    I sigh, turning back to the stove. "Look, if you ever want to talk... I''m here, okay? We''re friends, Felicia. I mean, that is what you said, right?"

    Felicia''s lips twitch, a rare smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Just shut up, Parker."

    I chuckle, but before I can respond, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, and my heart skips a beat¡ªa fire alert on 13th Street, civilians still trapped inside. The familiar rush of urgency floods through me, reminding me that no matter how many battles I fight, Spider-Man''s job is never done.

    I glance over at Felicia. "Look, I need you to cover for me. I''ve gotta¡ª"

    "I know," she interrupts, still focused on scrubbing the stove. "Just... don''t go disappearing again, okay? I prefer my friends to stay alive."

    Her words catch me off guard, a soft sincerity buried beneath her usual sarcasm. I give her a small smile. "See? Was that so hard?"

    She rolls her eyes. "Just hurry up and go."

    I nod, quickly scanning the diner to make sure Gwen and May aren''t watching before slipping out the back. My costume''s trashed, but I''ll have to make a pit stop at home¡ªsomething more old-school will have to do.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I swing onto the scene in my old suit¡ªthe very first one I ever made. It''s rough around the edges, stitched together by a kid with big dreams, and my web shooters feel ancient compared to the newer models. But this will have to do.

    The fire from the building radiates heat that pulses against my skin, the acrid smell of smoke curling into my lungs. People are trapped in there, somewhere. I scan the area, and through the chaos, I spot a familiar face.

    "Spider-Man!" a voice calls out.

    I turn to see Officer Johnson, a short, burly guy with a beard that looks like it might be a dare gone too far. I''ve run into him a few times on the job, always the straight-shooter type.

    "Johnson!" I call out, trying to inject some levity into my voice despite the weight in my chest. "How''s it going?"

    He jogs over, eyes flicking up and down at my old-school get-up. "Better now that you''re here, kid. Gotta say, you''re tougher than you look, taking on six of those maniacs alone last week. Don''t let what that hack at the Bugle says get to you¡ªmost of us know whose side you''re on. By the way, where¡¯s the usual suit?¡±

    I shrug and flick a webline toward the building. "Yeah, well, thanks. And the suit''s in the wash," I joke, hoping it masks the knot tightening in my stomach.

    I swing through a broken window, avoiding the heaviest flames, landing inside a corridor. "Hello? Anyone here?!"

    The building groans around me, beams collapsing as I kick through doors, searching room after room, avoiding the inferno as it claws at my senses. But there''s no sign of life¡ªno screams, no movement. Just the heavy throb of flames and the sickening smell of burning wood and plastic.

    Then I see it. A trail of blood smeared along the floor, leading to a door.

    I freeze. The words "Come Save Me, Spider-Man" are scrawled on it in crimson. It''s not paint. It''s blood.

    My pulse quickens, the room suddenly feeling too small. Slowly, I push the door open.

    "Hello?!" My voice echoes through the room, desperate, but no answer comes.

    What greets me on the other side makes my stomach churn. My breath catches, and I stumble back, nearly slipping on the blood-streaked floor.

    A family¡ªmother, father, two sons, and a daughter¡ªare pinned to the walls by thick, rusted hooks driven through their flesh, holding them there like grotesque marionettes. Their mouths are twisted into hideous, unnatural smiles, as if someone had tried to force them into a final moment of joy. But their eyes... their eyes are wide open, filled with terror.

    "Oh god..." I mutter, my voice cracking. I can''t tear my gaze away from their lifeless eyes. The room is covered in the words "Save Me! Save Me! Save Me!" over and over, like a deranged chant scrawled across the walls in more blood.

    My legs tremble, and I feel like I might throw up. Who... who could''ve done this?

    Then, my spider-sense flares, sharp and deafening in my head, but I don''t see anything¡ªjust flames licking the edges of the room, the grotesque scene in front of me.

    Until I hear it.

    A low, echoing laughter. It slithers through the air, dark and chilling, reverberating through the smoke-filled room. It doesn''t even sound human human¡ªthere''s something twisted, something monstrous in that sound.

    "Who''s there?!" I shout, spinning around, my heart pounding in my chest.

    Through the flames, I see a figure emerge. At first, I can''t tell if it''s even human. His skin is a sickly, unnatural green, stretched tight over a grinning smile. His eyes¡ªwild, unblinking, and burning with madness¡ªlock onto mine. His clothes are torn, hanging off him in rags, but it''s the grin that sends ice down my spine, wide and unnervingly fixed, as though it''s carved into his face.

    In his hand, something small and round glints in the firelight.

    "Did you... did you do this?!" I shout, gesturing to the family behind me, my voice rising as I struggle to hold it together.

    He doesn''t answer. He only grins wider, his jagged yellow teeth flashing as he tilts his head, his gaze never leaving mine. Then, with a click, he tosses the small orb toward me.

    Instinct kicks in, and I leap through the window just as the orb explodes behind me, a deafening roar of fire and shattering glass. The force of the blast slams me onto the hood of a police car, sending civilians and officers diving for cover.

    "Spider-Man!" Johnson''s voice breaks through the chaos, but all I can hear is the laughter.

    I stand up, body aching, and look back at the building. It''s collapsing, a torrent of fire and debris pouring into the street. I web-swing toward the crowd, grabbing as many people as I can, pulling them to safety, but I''m not fast enough. The building comes down with a thunderous crash, and I hear screams.

    And then, above the destruction, I see him.

    Hovering in the smoke on some kind of glider, lit by the flames beneath him, the madman''s laughter echoes through the streets. His eyes¡ªthose burning, unblinking eyes¡ªnever leave mine as he swoops down, launching two more of those orange orbs into the crowd.

    "No!" I leap forward, kicking one of the bombs into the air before grabbing the other and hurling it back at him. But he''s too quick, firing something from his glider that detonates the orb in midair.

    "Why?!" I shout, my voice raw, desperation creeping in. "Why are you doing this?!"

    He only cackles, his laughter sharp and manic, cutting through the rising smoke. "The game isn''t over yet," he whispers, his voice soft and venomous.

    And then, I hear it.

    The faint beeping. The same sound those bombs made, but this time it''s everywhere. I look around and realize with horror that many of the civilians I just rescued... and even others scattered around...they have bombs hidden inside their clothes.

    Oh god.

    I can''t reach them all.

    The world goes white as the explosions rip through the street.

 Failure

    The streets are a symphony of chaos¡ªscreams, the crackling of flames licking at the twisted frames of police cars, and the acrid scent of burning rubber and metal. My whole body aches, bruised from being hurled into a wrecked vehicle. I push myself up, vision blurry, and stumble forward. My heart sinks at the sight.

    Bodies. Scattered like broken toys. Some in uniforms¡ªofficers who thought they''d be heading home tonight. Others just regular people, terrified, caught in something they couldn''t understand.

    I glance up at the building, its skeletal remains still smoldering against the night sky. And him¡ªthe madman¡ªis gone. No trace of that eerie, soul-chilling laugh, no trace of the twisted grin that''s now burned into my mind.

    Why? Why did it have to go this way?

    Why couldn''t I save them?

    I force myself forward, running through the debris, pulling the injured to safety, handing them off to firefighters and medics as they scramble to make sense of the carnage. It''s automatic, this saving¡ªsomething I''ve done a thousand times before, but tonight it feels different. Empty.

    Then I see him.

    Officer Johnson. The one who''d smiled at me just a little bit ago, full of life, full of trust. He lies still now, his eyes open, blood trickling from his mouth. I drop to my knees beside him, gently closing his eyelids. A wave of guilt washes over me. If only I''d been faster. If only I''d¡ª

    "Spider-Man?"

    The voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn. It''s Captain Stacy, his expression heavy, weary. He lowers his gun and holsters it, his eyes scanning the destruction.

    "What is this?" he asks, voice low. "What happened here?"

    I clench my fists, staring at the blood smeared across my gloves. "I failed."

    Captain Stacy stands next to me, the weight of his own regret etched across his face. "We all did."

    "I saw him," I say through gritted teeth, the memory of that grinning, green-skinned monster searing into my mind. "The one who did this. He killed everyone...and called it a game."

    Captain Stacy''s eyes narrow. "Another powered perp?"

    I hesitate, unsure. "Maybe. I don''t know what he was, but... it didn''t feel like this was for revenge. And I don''t feel like this was for some cause. I feel like...he did it because he could."

    I look down at the blood on my hands, feeling the tremor starting in my fingers. This wasn''t like my other battles. This wasn''t just some punch-up with a thug or a supervillain with a grand plan. This was chaos, senseless and brutal.

    Captain Stacy places a firm hand on my shoulder. "Don''t carry this burden alone. You''re a kid, Peter. Still in high school. This? This is the responsibility of adults, not yours. We failed today¡ªnot you."

    I shake my head, not wanting to accept it. "A kid who can lift a bus over his head, remember?"

    Stacy exhales deeply, his face softening. "Strength isn''t everything, kid. Get home. Your aunt, Gwen¡ªthey''re probably worried sick. Let us handle this mess."

    I want to argue, to push back, to scream that it is my responsibility, that with power comes¡ª

    But I don''t.

    I can barely keep it together. I glance around one last time at the destruction, at the lives lost, and nod.

    "Yeah, okay." My voice is barely a whisper.

    I shoot a webline to the nearest building, and as I swing away, the weight of failure clings to me, heavier than ever

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I swing up to my room, opening it slightly, before making my way inside quietly. I could see in the driveway that May was home...not good. I slowly close the door to my room, before turning on the light and undressing and changing into cleaner clothes, using a towel to wipe my face of smoke and grime the best I can, before spraying myself with cologne, and whatever I could to get rid of this smoke smell.

    I hear a faint voice call out from downstairs. "Peter?" I could tell it was Gwen.

    How am I gonna explain how I got into the house without them knowing? I reach into the drawer, grabbing my phone which I stashed before I went out to the fire, quickly turning off the lights as I heard approaching footsteps, quietly making my way back out the window closing it, before jumping down to the grass below.

    I ran around to the front, knocking on the door, like I had only just arrived.

    The door creaked open, then swung open as May grabbed me pulling me into the house. "Have you lost your mind?! Do you know how long it''s been?"

    I check the time on my phone, it''s only been about an hour and a half. "Uh...not long?" I say, and she looks angrier.

    "You can''t do that. You can''t." May says shaking her head as she makes her way to the kitchen. "I tried calling and texting."

    Then Gwen makes her way down the stairs. "Peter? What? I could''ve sworn I heard someone upstairs?"

    I shake my head. "Nope. Just got here."

    Gwen looks at me, then crinkles her nose. "Why do you smell like so much cologne?"

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Before I can respond May drops a glass in the kitchen, it breaks on impact as she cruses under her breath.

    I rush over to her. "Hey, I got this don''t¡ª"

    "I got it! I got it!" She says, trying to scramble the pieces together, her face is frantic. "It''s...I''m sorry, but I can do it." May, picks up all the pieces opening the door that lead to the garage and out of sight heading towards the trash cans probably.

    "Peter, where did you go? Felicia said that you went to the store to get more cleaning supplies but you never answered my calls. We got worried. I mean did you hear about what happened on 13th street? There was some kind of explosion." Gwen says, moving over to us.

    Yeah. I know, Gwen.

    "Really? I didn''t hear anything."

    "You don''t look like you brought anything back." Gwen frowns, and my heart stops. "Peter, where did you really go? I mean, it doesn''t make any sense. You just...leave? Again? Please," she says grabbing my hands in hers. "Please, you can talk to me about anything. Anything Peter."

    I stare into her eyes and I want nothing more than to tell her everything, my powers, about why I always disappeared.

    I''m Spider-Man, Gwen.

    It''s so simple.

    But then flashes of everyone I failed to save tonight come to my mind, and I remember why I can never do that. I won''t let that happen to anyone close to me. Never.

    "I¡ªI got lost on the way to the store, but then I¡ª"

    I stop as I see Gwen''s eyes fill with tears, before she crosses her arms looking down at the floor instead of me. "Okay. I get it. You don''t have to tell me. But..." Gwen looks up at me. "When I thought I...I lost you. It hurt, Peter."

    "I know¡ª"

    "No, no you don''t get it. It felt like something...died inside of me. I don''t know how to explain it Peter, but...ever since you came back into my life. It''s felt like...I don''t know..like that''s how it should be." She says, moving closer to me her eyes on mine. "Like you and me, we have something special. Something I don''t ever want to lose. You have your secrets, that much is obvious, maybe you can''t tell me yet. So I''ll wait, I''ll wait for you to be ready. But promise me, Peter. That no matter what happens, you and me, we won''t lose each other."

    I grab her hand, squeezing it gently. "Gwen, no matter what happens. I promise you''ll never lose me. I guess...I never got to say it out loud...but Gwen, I''ve...I''ve had feelings for you as long as I can remember. I...I like¡ª"

    Gwen presses her lips against mine, and my eyes widen, until I let myself slip into her kiss, letting go of all the pain I''ve felt until now. She pulls back, "me too."

    "You...You do?"

    Gwen giggles softly. "Peter, come on. Of course I do. Even if you never noticed..." Gwen turns away blushing. "I guess...I''ve always had an eye on you."

    I pull her into a hug. "Yeah, me too."

    "Peter?" She says, with her head against my chest.

    "Yeah?" I say, resting my head on top of hers.

    "You wanna watch back to the future?" She says, and I can''t help but smile.

    "Is that even a question?" I say, and she looks up at me with a wide grin.

    "Not just a great tutor. But a boyfriend too. I''m lucky." She says, giving me a small peck on my lips.

    I...I can''t believe this is real.

    Boyfriend?

    It doesn''t matter, I just wanna enjoy this.

    "You guys done with your little moment?" May says, a smile on her face as she peaks through the garage door.

    I look at May with a blush on my face. "Please don''t tell me you were spying."

    "Oh, please." May says, washing her hands. "Just some of the middle parts and all of the end parts."

    I groan, and Gwen hides her face in my chest.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    As Gwen snoozes softly on the couch, the flicker of the TV casting shadows across her peaceful face, I can''t help but smile. How anyone could fall asleep during Back to the Future is beyond me, but the way she''s curled up with a blanket, looking so relaxed, makes it hard to blame her. Still, this gives me a moment to focus on something I''ve been putting off for a while.

    Quietly, I slip upstairs to my room, where my extra supplies are stashed away. Red, blue, and black cloth¡ªall of it ready for whenever I need to patch up my suit. I pull out my sewing kit, setting it on the desk, and settle into the chair. The night of homecoming flashes in my mind, Gwen teasing me about needing "more pizzazz" in my costume. Maybe she had a point.

    I start cutting the fabric into the pieces I need, mentally working through new ideas. A sharper look, maybe more refined webbing details? I thread the needle and begin stitching, the soft sound of fabric being pulled taut under the needle the only noise in the room.

    As I work, I think about everything that''s happened recently. The chaos of the fire, the laughter of that maniac, the lives lost because I wasn''t fast enough. My hands slow as I picture Johnson''s body, Aunt May and Gwen''s faces, the promises I''ve made. I need to be better¡ªnot just for the people I couldn''t save tonight but for the ones I can save tomorrow.

    "More pizzazz," I murmur, echoing Gwen''s playful words. Maybe a little style wouldn''t hurt after all.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The weekend comes and goes in a blur. Gwen stays over for a while, and I don''t realize just how much I''ve gotten used to her being around until the house feels oddly empty after she leaves.

    Now it''s Monday morning, the start of another week at school. Still no sign of Harry. Still no sign of that madman, either. I''ve been scouring the city every night, responding to every police call, trying to track him down. But it''s like he''s vanished into thin air.

    I decide to head to school earlier than usual today¡ªpartly because I need time to clear my head, but also because I have no idea what we''re learning in biology anymore. Some early studying can''t hurt.

    On the way to the library, I spot two figures standing off to the side. Flash Thompson is there, sporting a brand-new Spider-Man T-shirt. Since when do I have merchandise? I wonder if I can sue. Standing beside him is an older man who has to be his dad. I try to slip past without drawing attention, but I can''t help overhearing.

    "Dad, listen, I¡ª"

    "No, you listen." His father''s voice cuts through the air like a whip. "You shut up and listen to me, understand? Your grades are garbage. You get them under control, or you''ll do something smart for once in your pathetic life." He jabs a finger into Flash''s chest with each word.

    From the corner of my eye, I see Flash clenching his fists, his jaw tight. "Yessir," he mutters, voice low.

    I pick up my pace, moving away from whatever that situation is. As much as Flash has made my life hell for years, seeing him get torn down like that feels...wrong. Part of me thinks maybe if he wasn''t so focused on being the king of high school jerks, he might actually get his grades up. But, hey, maybe we''re not all that different. Looks like I''m not the only one failing at something.

    When I finally reach the library, Gwen''s already there waiting for me. I told her I''d be coming early, and she decided to meet me¡ªyet another perk of having an awesome girlfriend.

    "Hey, Peter!" She smiles, waving me over to the table. I slide into the seat next to her, unpacking my textbooks for first period.

    "So, I have kind of a weird question to ask," she says, leaning in a little closer.

    "Shoot," I say, glancing up from my book.

    "It''s about Flash," she says cautiously.

    I furrow my brow, confused. "Flash? What about him? I just saw him with his dad¡ª"

    "I think we should help him," she interrupts, her words coming out in a rush.

    "Help him?" I blink, not sure I''m hearing her right. "Help him with what?"

    "Tutoring. I think we should tutor him," Gwen says, reaching across the table to grab one of my hands.

    I stare at her, completely taken aback. "You want me to tutor Flash Thompson? The guy who makes it his life''s mission to torture me? The guy who hates my guts? The same guy who seemingly hates everyone''s guts¡ªexcept yours, of course," I add, not even trying to hide the hint of jealousy in my voice.

    She sighs, giving me that patient look. "I know he can be a jerk sometimes¡ª"

    "Sometimes?" I scoff, raising an eyebrow.

    "Okay, most of the time," she admits. "But I think there''s more to him than that. I don''t know... I think he''s struggling, Peter. You saw him with his dad, right? He''s under a lot of pressure, and maybe... maybe if we help him with his grades, he''ll be able to stay on the football team. And who knows, maybe you two could actually get along."

    I stare at her, weighing my options. They''re not looking good.

    A. No, thank you.

    B. Are you trying to play peacemaker, or are you trying to get me killed?

    C. I''d rather chew off my own hand.

    I chuckle nervously, trying to mask my reluctance. "Can I think about it?"

    She smiles sweetly, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek. "You''re the best."

    A flash of Officer Johnson comes to my mind.

    I''m definitely not.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Norman Osborn woke with a violent start, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. Cold sweat clung to his skin, soaking through the expensive silk sheets beneath him. His pulse hammered in his ears, drowning out the eerie silence of the dimly lit room. For a moment, he couldn''t remember where he was.

    His office. No, not quite. One of the private facilities, isolated from the rest of Oscorp''s empire. He had made sure of that¡ªthis place was off the books, unknown to anyone but him. And yet...something felt wrong.

    Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Norman sat up, the chill of the metal floor biting at his feet. A metallic tang hit his nose, sharp and undeniable. His eyes scanned the room in the faint light, and that''s when he saw it.

    Blood.

    A pool of it, smeared across the floor, leading up to the wall. And there, scrawled in dark, dripping letters, was a message:

    WELCOME HOME

    Norman''s breath caught in his throat as his eyes traced the letters. His heart raced faster, but it wasn''t fear. It was rage. He gripped the edge of the bed, his knuckles turning white. His mind raced for answers, but none came.

    Then he saw it¡ªa vial. Small and glass, empty now. He recognized it immediately, the remnants of a serum he had taken days ago. The memory of it was vivid, but beyond that? Nothing. A gaping hole in his recollection. He had injected himself with it, eager to perfect the formula that would¡ª

    Norman clenched his fists, trying to remember what had happened after. Days had passed. Where had he been? What had he done? He couldn''t recall, but the blood on the floor and the sinister message suggested nothing good.

    As his mind churned, struggling to piece together the blank spaces, a voice echoed faintly from the dark corners of his mind.

    "The game isn''t over yet."

    It was low, menacing, like a shadow creeping over his consciousness. The voice wasn''t his own. It was something else, something deep within him that he had long feared but could no longer suppress.

    Norman''s lips twitched, his face contorting into a strained grin as the voice reverberated in his skull, chilling and familiar.

    "Soon."

 To Hunt A Spider

    Wednesday October 23

    "Him? Seriously?" Flash points to me, a smirk on his face.

    Gwen crosses her arms as we stand in front of him, I can''t help but feel a bit out of place. "Him. Seriously. We''re a package deal, Flash. We both help you, or neither of us help you. Take it or leave it."

    Flash shakes his head with a smile. "I don''t know how you landed her, Parker."

    I stuff my hands in my pocket with a shrug. "I wonder about that too."

    Gwen holds my arm pressing against me. "We''re a team. That''s all there is to it, so Flash, hope you brought your books because from now on every morning between class it''ll be me, you, and Peter."

    Flash and I both give each other an awkward glance.

    Was this really fine?

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    After a redundant morning of getting absolutely nowhere with Flash, Gwen and I finally called it when the bell rang. Flash had struggled through basic algebra like he was trying to decode ancient runes, and I don''t think my awkward attempts to explain it helped much. It wasn''t long after that that Flash decided to thank me by shoving my head in a toilet. But hey, maybe we''re making progress. Baby steps, right?

    Lunch rolls around, and things get...weird.

    I''m sitting at my usual spot, picking at the mystery meat on my tray. Gwen''s off doing committee work with Liz, and with Harry still MIA, it''s just me today. I''m halfway through a thought about skipping biology when Felicia Hardy saunters over to my table, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

    "Parker," she says smoothly, sliding into the seat across from me.

    "Yeah?" I say, raising an eyebrow, taking a sip of water, trying to figure out what her angle is.

    Without a word, she pulls out her phone and holds it up in front of me. On the screen, a video begins to play. It''s J. Jonah Jameson, spitting his usual anti-Spider-Man rhetoric, but this time, he''s not alone. He''s interviewing someone.

    I squint at the screen, leaning in to get a better look at the man sitting beside Jonah. He''s older, rugged-looking, with sharp features and eyes that gleam with a kind of wild intensity that doesn''t match the calm, measured tone of his voice.

    "You see," the man begins, a slow, almost predatory smile spreading across his face, "I come from a long line of hunters." He pauses for dramatic effect, clearly reveling in the attention. "But as a hunter, I have claimed the heads of every wild beast on this planet. There is no greater thrill than conquering a creature believed to be unkillable. I live for the hunt and nothing else."

    Jonah leans in, clapping his hands together like a man who''s just been served the juiciest piece of gossip. "Well, Mr. Kraven, I have to ask," he says, his tone dripping with excitement, "I''m sure you''ve heard about the menace that haunts the streets of New York¡ªthe so-called Spider-Man. He swings around like this is his own personal playground, flaunting the law, doing whatever he pleases. Have you come here to put an end to him? To free New York from his reign of terror?"

    Kraven laughs¡ªa deep, guttural sound that sends a chill down my spine. "You speak of this Spider-Man as if he were a man," he says, his grin widening. "No, he''s nothing more than a beast¡ªan elusive one, I''ll give him that, but a beast nonetheless. And I, the greatest hunter the world has ever known, will bring him down. The people of this city deserve to live without fear of this creature, and I will be the one to deliver that peace."

    He stands suddenly, spreading his arms like a preacher addressing his flock. "I will claim this Spider-Man. And once I do, I will truly be Kraven...the Hunter!"

    Jonah practically beams with excitement, clapping his hands again. "There you have it, folks! Kraven, the world''s greatest hunter, has come to rid us of our Spider problem once and for all."

    I narrow my eyes at the screen, my mind racing. "So he''s just... announcing his plans for murder? Online? Doesn''t seem like the smartest guy."

    Felicia lowers the phone and raises an eyebrow at me. "You should probably be taking this more seriously, Parker," she says, her voice tinged with frustration. "I''ve been hearing things¡ªabout the explosion at the building last week. People are scared, and scared people need someone to blame. If you haven''t been checking online lately, that someone is you. Or rather, Spider-Man."

    I frown, her words sinking in like a lead weight in my chest. "But it wasn''t me. The people who were there know that. I mean, I stopped Dr. Octavius and his crew from leveling half the city. That''s got to count for something, right?"

    Felicia crosses her arms, her expression softening just a little. "Yeah, to me it does, Parker. But to everyone else? The people who don''t see what really happens, who only know what they read online or what Jonah blares on his stupid show¡ªit''s just Spider-Man. Another freak fight. Another explosion. Another disaster in the city." She pauses, watching me closely. "It''s hard to tell the difference between the heroes and the villains when all they see is the destruction left behind."

    Her words hit harder than I expect, and I can''t help the bitter edge that creeps into my voice. "Is that what you think? That I''m just... ruining lives?"

    Felicia''s gaze softens as she sits down next to me, her demeanor more gentle than I''m used to. "No, Parker, that''s not what I think. I know you''re out there saving people, doing the right thing. But not everyone sees it that way. And Kraven? He''s dangerous, Peter. He''s not just some random thrill-seeker. I''ve looked into him, and he''s the real deal. He''s taken down beasts that make the stuff you face look like child''s play."

    I cut her off before she can say more. "I got it."

    She lets out a frustrated sigh, but there''s a flicker of something more in her eyes¡ªconcern, maybe. "Look, Parker," she says, her voice quieter now, "I''ve got your back, always. But not everyone sees you the way I do. After everything that''s happened in the last month, the city''s on edge. People are angry. They''re scared. They''re tired of the chaos and destruction these ''super freaks'' bring, and unfortunately, you''re part of that in their eyes."

    I sit there, the weight of her words hitting me like a ton of bricks. Kraven''s not just some two-bit thug looking to make a name¡ªhe''s a hunter. And I''m his prey. If the city''s already against me, taking me down might be easier for him than I''d like to admit.

    "At the end of the day, he''s just a guy. Strong, sure, but still human. If anything, my biggest problem is not hurting him too badly." I try to sound confident, and Felicia flashes me a grin that''s halfway between amused and concerned.

    She glances down for a second, then back at me. "So... did you see Osborn?"

    I snort. "Which one?" She gives me that look¡ªy''know, the one that says don''t be cute, and I sigh. "Yeah, I saw him. You were right, he''s... on that

    stuff."

    Felicia clicks her tongue, shaking her head. "That kid''s got problems. And I''m not just talking about his mad scientist daddy issues."

    I nod, thinking back to Harry. He''s been through the wringer, especially after losing his mom. Ever since then, he''s been off balance, like he''s still searching for solid ground. "He''s been through a lot," I say, almost to myself. "Kinda like you."

    Felicia gives me a sharp look. "What''s that supposed to mean?"

    I gesture to her arm. "You never told me where those bruises came from." The words come out before I can stop them, and for a split second, I''m ready to dodge a slap.

    Instead, she glares. "I''m sorry, when did it become your job to know every detail of my life?"

    "Since we became friends." I meet her eyes, trying not to back down. She scoffs and turns away.

    "It''s nothing. I fell." Her voice is flat, and we both know that''s a lie.

    I sigh. "Look, I''m not trying to push you. I just want you to know¡ª"

    "¡ªThat I can tell you anything, blah blah, I know the spiel." She cuts me off, but there''s a tiny smile tugging at her lips. It''s quick, but I catch it.

    She looks at me with this unreadable expression. "Parker... I need to tell you something¡ª"

    "Peter!"

    We both turn to see Gwen approaching, a little slower when she notices us sitting together. "Hey, Felicia," she says, settling in next to me.

    Felicia doesn''t miss a beat, her expression blank. "Hey." Then she stands up, facing me. "We''ll talk later, Parker."

    And just like that, she''s gone.

    Gwen watches her leave, frowning. "I''m starting to think she doesn''t like me."

    I nudge her playfully. "Don''t take it personally. She''s just... complicated."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I open the door to the apartment, the familiar creak of the hinges barely registering as I step inside.

    The place is quiet, as usual, which means Aunt May''s still pulling a double at the diner. She''s been working even harder since Uncle Ben... after everything. But no matter how tough it gets, she never lets it show. She keeps pushing forward, like nothing could ever slow her down.

    But I know better. The bills, the strain¡ªit''s always there, looming in the background. As much as she tries to hide it from me, it''s hard to ignore. Every time I see those overdue notices, it hits me again.

    I drop my backpack on the couch, then wander into the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what I can make for dinner.

    May''s always so tired when she gets home, half the time she just crashes without eating. It''s been forever since I cooked for her... but she deserves something nice tonight.

    My mind drifts as I pull out the ingredients for lasagna, the way she loves it. I can do so much¡ªsuper strength, reflexes, agility¡ªstuff that could make me millions if I really wanted. I could clean up in pro sports, make enough money that Aunt May would never have to worry about anything ever again.

    But that''s not who she is. And that''s not who I am, either.

    As I wait for the beef to thaw in the sink, I grab my phone, scrolling through the usual nonsense. More articles calling Spider-Man a menace. You''d think I was public enemy number one. I mean, has anyone I''ve saved ever left a review? Apparently not.

    And then there''s Kraven.

    The city''s obsessed with him. He''s all over the internet¡ªphotos with celebrities, pictures of his hunts. The guy even met Obama? Seriously? And he''s got an Instagram. Of course he does.

    I scroll through his feed, seeing all the stuff he''s done, building wells and bridges in remote villages. The guy''s out there helping people in ways I can''t even imagine.

    If he wasn''t out to mount my head like a trophy, I might actually be impressed.

    Suddenly, my phone buzzes¡ªa 10-15. Civil disturbance. Not exactly Spider-Man''s top priority, but... it''s something. I glance at the beef in the sink. It''s got a while to go, and honestly, I could use a break.

    I grin, already thinking about giving my new suit a test run. I''ll be back before the lasagna even knows it''s missing me.

    I dart upstairs, changing into my suit in record time. It''s basically the same as the old one¡ªcan''t mess with a classic too much, right? But I did add a little something extra this time. Gwen was onto something when she said it needed some more pizzazz.

    So, I went ahead and put webbing under the armpits, a kind of "web wings" thing. It actually looks pretty cool.

    One leap out the window, making sure no one''s around, and I''m swinging through the city in seconds. The wind rushing past me, the city stretching out below¡ªit never gets old.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Captain Stacy!" I shout, landing on the hood of his car as a small crowd gathers around. Two other cop cars are parked nearby, but most of the attention is directed upward toward something I can''t quite see. "What''s going on?"

    Captain Stacy glances up from his radio, raising an eyebrow at me. "Didn''t think you''d show up here."

    "Finished my homework," I say with a shrug, and he lets out a dry scoff.

    "We''ve got a jumper," he says, pointing to a man standing on the ledge of a tall building. "Doesn''t want to come down, says he''ll jump if anyone gets too close."

    A jumper. Great.

    "I''ll¡ª"

    Before I can finish, my Spidey sense explodes, and I twist just in time to dodge a rock flying at my head. I look down to see a man holding another rock, his face twisted in anger.

    "We don''t need you here, Spider-freak!" he yells, gearing up to throw the next one.

    "If you''re around, everything just gets worse!" a woman screams, launching her purse at me. Really? A purse?

    More people start to gather, their voices rising in anger. Shouts of "Menace!" and "Get lost!" echo around me as the crowd grows more hostile by the second.

    "Everyone back off!" Captain Stacy yells, moving to control the crowd with his officers. He throws me a quick nod, giving me the all-clear.

    I don''t waste a second. I fire a web and swing up to the roof, landing lightly beside the man. He''s older, glasses perched crookedly on his nose, his thin frame trembling as he teeters dangerously close to the edge.

    "It''s... it''s you," he stammers, his voice shaky.

    "Yeah, it''s me," I say, keeping my tone calm as I slowly approach him. "So, what brings you up here today? It''s a long way down, and trust me, the landing isn''t great."

    He scoffs, looking down at the street below. "Better than getting a spear to the head."

    I freeze. "A spear to the head?"

    Before I can even process what he said, my Spidey sense flares again¡ªthis time, it''s not a rock. An arrow slices through the air, headed right for me. I barely dodge, the arrow zipping past where I was standing a split second before.

    "What the¡ª"

    The man with the glasses scrambles back inside the building. But my attention is locked on where the arrow came from. I look across the street, and there he is¡ªKraven. Standing tall on the rooftop opposite me, bow in hand, a cold, predatory smile on his face.

    "Kraven," I mutter under my breath, feeling my muscles tense as I prepare for what''s coming next.

    Kraven turns and bolts down the alley, and I leap off the building, swinging after him. He moves like a parkour master, bouncing between the walls with barely any effort, dropping to the street below. I stick to the air, following close behind, just above. He twists mid-run, firing another arrow, which I dodge.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    "Seriously? A bow and arrow?!" I yell, firing a web toward him. He dodges it, slipping through traffic on the street like it''s nothing, diving into another alley.

    What''s the deal with this guy? Isn''t he supposed to be hunting me? This feels more like a weird cardio workout. I''m starting to feel bad for him.

    I swing into the alley just as Kraven leaps through a broken window of an old building. Oh great, a setup for an ambush. I''m guessing he''s hoping to lure me into some kind of trap, but this? This is child''s play compared to going up against Dr. Octavius, Electro, or¡ªwell, most of my rogues'' gallery.

    I follow him through the shattered window, landing inside the dark, abandoned building.

    The only light is what filters in from the street behind me, casting long shadows over the empty space.

    Pitch black.

    Perfect for Kraven''s plan, I bet. He probably thinks taking away my sight will give him the upper hand.

    "Seriously, man? Isn''t all this running and hiding the opposite of what a hunter''s supposed to do? And what''s with the guy back on the roof? Did you hire him? Why do you want to fight me so badly? From what I¡ª"

    My Spidey sense flares again, and I launch myself into the air just as another arrow whizzes past, embedding itself in the concrete wall behind me with a sharp crack.

    "Okay, that''s getting old real fast," I mutter, dropping back into a crouch. My eyes scan the darkness, every sense on high alert. This guy''s fast, I''ll give him that. But if he thinks he''s going to get the drop on me, he''s in for a rude awakening.

    As I crouch in the darkness, every instinct telling me to stay alert, Kraven makes his next move. The sudden, jarring blare of animal sounds¡ªlions roaring, birds screeching, wolves howling¡ªfloods the room. It''s deafening, and it''s coming from all directions.

    My hearing is now useless. The sounds are so loud and overwhelming that even my Spidey sense is struggling to cut through the noise.

    I wince, trying to block out the disorienting cacophony. "Great, now he''s got a zoo on speed dial," I mutter to myself. But this is no joke. Kraven''s stripping away my advantages one sense at a time.

    Then it gets worse.

    My Spidey sense flares, a warning that arrows are flying at me, but without the ability to hear them, I''m disoriented.

    I dive to the left as a shaft whizzes by, narrowly missing my shoulder. The darkness makes it impossible to pinpoint their origins.

    I spring back to my feet, adrenaline pumping, my heart racing as I twist and turn to avoid the incoming projectiles.

    Another arrow zips past my head, and I barely manage to dodge it. "Come on!" I shout into the void, frustration bubbling up. I can''t keep this up forever, and Kraven knows it.

    I can feel the presence of more than one person in the room, but the sound of growling animals and whistling arrows fills my ears, obscuring everything else.

    The shadows seem to dance around me, taunting me with their silence. Kraven''s clearly using the environment to his advantage, and right now, it''s working.

    Suddenly, the air is filled with a hissing sound, and I realize what''s happening too late¡ªcanisters of tear gas begin to disperse around the room.

    The acrid fumes fill my lungs, making me cough and choke. I try to retreat, but I can''t see where I''m going, the gas making it hard to breathe and clouding my vision further.

    I stagger, trying to regain my bearings, but the arrows keep coming. I twist and duck, my instincts taking over as I rely on muscle memory, but the pain in my chest is becoming unbearable. Each breath feels heavier, each step more precarious.

    Out of nowhere, an arrow strikes my leg, the sharp pain jolting through me like a lightning bolt. I stagger and fall to one knee, the world around me swirling in a haze.

    My mobility is hindered; I can''t run or swing away. I reach down, grasping the shaft protruding from my thigh, but I can''t pull it out. Panic begins to creep in.

    And just like that, the arrows stop flying. The silence in the room feels deafening after the chaos, leaving me alone with my ragged breaths and the burning in my leg.

    I lean against the wall, trying to steady myself, the darkness closing in around me.

    "Kraven!" I call out, my voice echoing in the emptiness. "Is this your big plan? What are you waiting for?"

    No response. Just the fading sounds of the wild, and the knowledge that I''m trapped¡ªlost in a dark room, and the hunter has become the hunted.

    The chaos of the dark room finally fades, and suddenly, the harsh overhead lights flicker to life, illuminating the space in a blinding glare. My eyes squint against the brightness, and I take a moment to adjust. As my vision clears, I see figures all around me, each one clad in gas masks. Their faces are obscured, but I can sense the cold menace radiating from them.

    Then Kraven appears, leaping down from a higher ledge, a predatory grin spread across his face. He lands gracefully in front of me, arms crossed. "Ah, Spider-Man," he says, his voice smooth, almost soothing, yet dripping with mockery. "All your power, and yet you remain a mere child in a grown man''s world."

    I grit my teeth, anger bubbling inside me. "Coward!" I shout. "Hiding behind your little friends? Fight me yourself!"

    Kraven chuckles softly, a sound devoid of warmth. "You misunderstand, my dear Spider. I didn''t want to merely defeat you. I wanted to orchestrate your downfall with precision. After all, the strongest prey can still fall to the more cunning hunter."

    With a flick of his wrist, one of his masked allies tosses him a spear. Kraven catches it effortlessly, spinning it in his hands with a flourish. "And now, I shall relish the thrill of the hunt."

    Before I can respond, Kraven lunges at me. I scramble to my feet, adrenaline surging, but the pain from the arrow in my leg sends jolts of agony through my body. I can feel the heat of Kraven''s presence as he closes in, the confidence in his movements making it clear he knows he has the upper hand.

    We circle each other, and I throw a punch, but he sidesteps with effortless grace, his movements fluid and precise. "Where is the power you showed against those other animals?" he taunts, his voice like silk against my fraying nerves. I throw another punch, but he dances out of reach again, that infuriating smile never leaving his face.

    I try to use my agility to my advantage, flipping and spinning to throw him off balance. But every time I think I''ve got a shot, the pain in my leg makes me hesitate just enough for him to dodge.

    I can see the amusement in his eyes grow as he toys with me, and it only fuels my frustration.

    "Come now, Spider-Man," he mocks, lunging forward with a swift kick that I barely block. "You can do better than this! You are meant to be a challenge!"

    I feint left, then right, trying to gauge his movements, but he seems to anticipate my every move. I throw a web at him, hoping to bind his arms, but he ducks beneath it and counterattacks with the spear, slashing it just close enough to my side that I feel the rush of air as it cuts through.

    "Too slow!" he taunts, and I growl in frustration, launching at him again. I kick high, aiming for his head, but he ducks under my leg and sweeps my other foot out from under me.

    I crash to the ground with a thud, the air knocked out of my lungs.

    I struggle to roll to my feet, but Kraven is upon me in an instant. He drives me back down, pinning me to the cold floor, the spear pressing against my throat.

    I can feel the sharpness of the tip grazing my skin, and I swallow hard, my breath hitching.

    "Such a pity," he breathes, his face inches from mine, "that you had such potential. But here you lie, beaten and broken. Even the mightiest of beasts must bow before a superior intellect."

    I squirm beneath him, desperate to break free, but the pain in my leg is crippling. I focus on my Spidey sense, but it''s drowned out by the haze of defeat settling over me. My vision blurs as I stare up at him, frustration and anger boiling in my chest.

    "Don''t count me out yet," I manage to say, but the confidence in my voice falters. The realization that I''m at his mercy sinks in. Kraven grins, savoring my predicament, knowing he has the advantage in this game.

    In that moment, I know I have to think fast. If I''m going to escape this, I need to get into his head and turn the tables. "You think you''re a hunter, Kraven?" I say, forcing a defiant grin. "What''s it like knowing your victory is nothing without an audience? You''re just a glorified actor in a sad little play."

    Kraven''s eyes narrow, the smile faltering for just a split second. It''s enough of a crack for me to seize the opportunity. I brace my legs, leveraging the strength I have left, and buck him off, surprising him as I roll away from the spear''s deadly edge.

    He cracks his jaw, that smile on his face as if he''s savoring every moment of this twisted game. It''s the kind of smile that makes me feel like I''m being toyed with, like a mouse in the clutches of a cat.

    "Why? Why are you doing this?" I ask, circling him cautiously, trying to keep my eyes on his movements while also glancing around for his masked henchmen lurking in the shadows.

    "You have a great many enemies, Spider-Man," he replies, gripping his spear with a sinister intensity. "One of whom approached me with an offer too tempting to resist. What kind of man would I be to turn down the hunt of a lifetime?"

    "Who hired you?" I press, but he just shakes his head, wagging his finger as if scolding a child.

    "Not the most pressing concern at the moment, don''t you think?" he taunts, and before I can respond, he lunges at me like a predator pouncing on its prey. His spear darts toward me, and I barely manage to evade the thrust.

    Every strike he delivers is punctuated by the pain radiating from my leg. The arrow wound throbs with each movement, and I can feel the thin slice along my side reminding me of how close I am to the edge. I need to think creatively if I''m going to survive this.

    I spring back, using the momentum to dodge another thrust, then throw a web at the ceiling, swinging upward and flipping over him.

    I kick off the wall, aiming for a flying punch, but he sidesteps, his grin wide as he swipes at me with the spear. I land awkwardly, the pain in my leg forcing me to favor it.

    "Nice try," he smirks, but I refuse to let him rattle me. I need to find a way to outsmart him. As I dodge another attack, I notice some of his henchmen shifting positions in the corners of the room. If I can keep them in my line of sight while using the space creatively, maybe I can gain the upper hand.

    I feint left, then right, and finally kick off a wall again to launch myself back at him. This time, I get close enough to land a glancing blow to his shoulder. Kraven stumbles back slightly, surprise flickering across his face.

    "Gotcha," I say through gritted teeth, my heart racing.

    But just as I think I''m gaining momentum, Kraven''s men spring into action. They draw their bows, and before I can react, a barrage of arrows whizzes through the air toward me. I twist and weave, adrenaline kicking in as I try to avoid the deadly projectiles, but the injuries slow me down.

    One arrow grazes my shoulder, and I stumble, pain shooting through me like wildfire. "Ugh, come on!" I hiss, trying to shake off the pain and stay on my feet.

    I need to escape, and fast. Using what little strength I have left, I dart for the window I came through, leaping towards it. I burst through just in time to hear Kraven''s voice behind me, "Run all you want, Spider! The hunt has only just begun!"

    I swing noting how the sky had finally become dark, the city lights blurring past me. But I can feel Kraven and his henchmen closing in, their shouts echoing off the buildings. I push myself, dodging around corners, but the wounds are weighing me down. I can''t keep this up for long.

    As I swing through the city, I spot a sewer grate and make a split-second decision. I drop down into the darkness below, landing in the damp, musty tunnels. The cool air feels refreshing against my skin, but I can''t linger. I scramble deeper into the sewers, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

    I can hear their footsteps above me, the sound of their shouts reverberating through the tunnels as they search for me.

    I crouch behind a wall, the adrenaline fading as I try to control my breathing. I can''t let them find me, not when I''m bleeding so badly.

    The footsteps grow faint, and for a moment, I think I might be safe. But then, the unmistakable sound of Kraven''s voice echoes through the tunnels, calling out for me, taunting me. "You think you can hide from me, Spider?! The more you run the more exciting it becomes!"

    I can feel the blood dripping down my leg and soaking into my suit. I need to find a way to stop it, but first, I need to stay hidden.

    I slide into a narrow crevice in the wall, pressing myself into the shadows. My heart pounds in my chest, every sound amplifying my fear.

    After what feels like an eternity, Kraven''s voice fades, and I hear nothing but the distant dripping of water. I stay still, listening intently, and slowly the silence settles around me.

    I''m safe for now, but the fight isn''t over. I need to regroup, come up with a plan. But for the moment, I close my eyes, leaning against the cold stone, trying to catch my breath.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    May won''t be back home for another hour or so, and I realize Gwen''s probably texted me a few times. She''s going to think I''m a jerk for not responding. I left my phone in my room, hoping May didn''t decide to come home early tonight.

    I''m okay for now, though.

    I''m okay. I''m okay.

    I take a few deep breaths before scaling the familiar wall of Felicia''s apartment. It''s frustrating how redundant and repetitive it''s become, coming here after a fight. "Felicia? You there?" I knock lightly on her window, hoping she''s not too annoyed.

    The window creaks open, and Felicia peeks her head out, her expression a mix of concern and annoyance. "What do you want?" she asks, but her tone softens as she takes in my state. "Come on."

    I crawl inside, wincing as I notice the blood seeping onto her floor. "Sorry about that," I mutter, trying to brush it off.

    Her eyes widen as she spots the arrow protruding from my leg. "Parker, what the hell...?"

    I slide down to sit against the wall, the pain shooting through me like a jolt of electricity. "I''m sorry. I know I keep doing this..."

    Felicia kneels beside me, her brows knitted together. "I...I''m not a doctor! I can''t...I don''t know what to do! Parker, you have a fucking arrow in your leg!" Her face is a mix of anger and frustration, and I can tell she''s trying to keep it together.

    "Yeah...yeah, I know," I groan, my voice strained. "Curtesy of our favorite animal-hunting psycho."

    Felicia blinks, caught between panic and anger. She rummages under her bed and pulls out her first-aid kit, though I can see it''s missing a few items from our previous near-death experiences. "There''s...there''s so much blood. God, I can''t...I can''t keep doing this," she says, gripping the arrow tightly. "This...this is probably going to hurt."

    I give her a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood. "You know me, I thrive on pain. Just call it a hobby."

    "Funny. Really funny," she replies, sarcasm dripping from her words, but her hands are shaking slightly. "Okay, we need to pull this out fast before the bleeding gets worse. On three."

    "Three?" I repeat, nervousness creeping into my voice. "Could we, I don''t know, try counting to ten or something?"

    "Do you want to bleed out, or do you want me to yank this arrow out?" she snaps, her concern surfacing beneath the annoyance.

    "Alright, alright! One... two..."

    With a quick, decisive motion, she pulls the arrow from my leg before I can even finish the count. Pain explodes through me, a flash of white-hot agony that makes me gasp.

    "Peter!" Felicia cries, her eyes wide as she sees the blood streaming from the wound. She looks at her hands, which are now covered with my blood. "Why...why do you always end up this way?" For a second...I feel like I can see her eyes glisten with shed tears.

    "Because I''m an idiot," I reply through gritted teeth, leaning back against the wall, trying to catch my breath. "Just... just patch me up, okay?"

    She takes a deep breath, steadying herself. "Okay, okay. I can do this. Just hold on." Her fingers move deftly as she cleans the wound, her touch surprisingly gentle despite the situation. She places another bandage on the cuts on my chest and shoulder, each stinging at her gentle touch.

    I wince at the sting of antiseptic. "I''m sorry that this whole ''let''s keep Peter alive'' thing has become our main activity of friendship."

    Felicia rolls her eyes but can''t hide the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Maybe if you didn''t always get into these situations...we could find something else to do. As friends." She says her eyes focused on my wounds.

    "Hey, where''s the fun in that?" I shoot back, trying to keep the mood light despite the pain.

    "Fun? This isn''t fun!" she retorts, applying a bandage tightly around my leg. "This is like a horror movie."

    I can''t help but chuckle, despite the discomfort. "Yeah, but I''m the hero, right? Gotta keep the plot interesting."

    She shakes her head, but there''s a warmth in her gaze. "You''re an idiot. An idiot, Peter Parker."

    "An idiot who''s extremely grateful you''re keeping him alive." I say with a small laugh, but the laughter turns into a wince as I adjust my leg.

    Felicia finishes wrapping the bandage and takes a step back, surveying her work. "There. You should at least be able to walk now. No more swinging for a bit, alright?"

    "Yeah, I''ll just let the bad guys know I''m taking a rain check on the whole ''Spider-Man'' thing," I reply, trying to sound nonchalant. But the reality is that my body feels heavy, and the adrenaline is starting to fade.

    "Just shut up. Go get cleaned up before you bleed even more on my carpet," she says, the concern in her voice evident.

    I nod, grateful for her support. "Thanks, Felicia. Really. I don''t know what I''d do without you."

    "Probably die," she quips, but I catch the hint of sincerity beneath her sarcasm.

    "True." I stand up slowly, testing my leg.

    Felicia watches me with a mixture of worry and resolve. "Go take a shower. You smell like sewage. And...yell if you like fall on your face and can''t get up or something."

    "Gotcha," I assure her, giving her a soft smile. "Thanks again."

    In the bathroom, the fluorescent lights flicker on, and I stand in front of the mirror, taking in the sight of myself. Dark circles under my eyes and dried blood on my chest tell the story of a long, brutal night. I can feel the arrow wound in my leg pulsing, but it''s the weight of my failures that truly drags me down.

    The memories swirl in my mind: the chaos of battles with the Sinister Six, as I''ve grown to like calling them. The screams of innocent bystanders lost in the crossfire. Each encounter leaves me questioning my choices and the impact of my actions.

    I''ve dedicated myself to protecting this city, but lately, it feels like the city is turning against me, branding me a menace instead of a hero. I can''t help but wonder if I''ve become the very thing I swore to fight against.

    Harry''s face flashes in my thoughts, and I feel a familiar ache in my chest. I couldn''t save him from his own demons, and that guilt clings to me like a shadow.

    I wonder if Uncle Ben would be proud of who I''ve become or if he would look at me with disappointment, seeing me as just another source of chaos. I was supposed to honor his memory, to be a beacon of hope, but instead, I feel like I''m dragging his legacy through the mud.

    Aunt May and Gwen cross my mind, and a wave of sadness washes over me. They deserve so much more than the turmoil I bring into their lives. Would they still love me if they knew the truth of what I''ve become?

    I grip the edge of the sink, my knuckles whitening. "You''re supposed to be better than this," I mutter to my reflection, but the words feel hollow. I''m losing sight of what it means to be Spider-Man.

    The pressure is suffocating, and with every mistake, I feel myself slipping further from the path I once believed in. In this moment, I''m not sure if I''m doing right by Uncle Ben or if I''m just a failure, trapped in a cycle of pain and regret.

    The shower is quick, the hot water washing away the remnants of the night, but the tension remains. I grab a towel and dry myself off, the faint sounds of voices reaching my ears from downstairs. I strain to listen, realizing it''s Felicia.

    "You''re drunk... just... no, stop," she says, her voice laced with frustration.

    I hear the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. "Look what you''re doing! It''s not... stop!" Another crash echoes through the house.

    "You''re... you''re just like her... fucking... nagging..." The slurred voice confirms what I fear¡ªit''s her dad.

    Panic sets in, and I rush to Felicia''s room, staying quiet. I throw on one of her black hoodies and a pair of joggers, hope she doesn''t get mad for me borrowing her clothes. I stuff my suit into a plastic bag from her closet. Just as I''m about to slip out the window, a loud smash from downstairs stops me in my tracks.

    Felicia wouldn''t want me to get involved. She wouldn''t.

    "Stop!" she yells, and that ignites a fire within me.

    Ignoring the warning in my head, I dash through her room and down the hallway. As I descend the stairs, I see her dad grabbing Felicia by the back of her neck, his fist raised.

    I can''t let this happen.

    With a burst of adrenaline, I leap over the railing, landing awkwardly on my wounded leg. Pain shoots up my body, but I push through it, rushing over to her dad before he can bring his fist down. I grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "What do you think you''re doing?"

    His eyes narrow, confusion mixing with anger. "What the f... you''re that kid? What the hell are you doing in my house?! Felicia?! What is this?! Why is he over here?!"

    Felicia looks at me, her expression a mix of gratitude and apprehension. "Peter..."

    I release her dad''s arm, and he stumbles back, regaining his balance. "You little¡ª" He snatches a bottle from the counter and takes a swig, turning to Felicia with a twisted smile. "You really are just like your mother."

    Her silence is deafening, and I can see the tension in her shoulders. This isn''t the Felicia I know¡ªshe''s not the type to back down. In this moment, she looks vulnerable, and it makes my blood boil. "Your daughter''s a good person. And I won''t stand by while you hurt her." I grasp Felicia''s arm, pulling her toward the front door.

    "What are you¡ª" Felicia seems startled, but I don''t hesitate.

    "You walk out that door. You don''t come back," her dad snarls, the bottle clutched tightly in his grip.

    Felicia hesitates, her eyes drifting down to the floor, and I can feel the weight of the moment pressing down on both of us. "Come on," I urge gently.

    She looks back up at me, and for a brief second, I see uncertainty flicker in her eyes. But then, she finds my gaze and nods. "Okay."

 Beneath The Hunteréˆ¥æªš Gaze

    "IT¡¯S just for a little while, May. Things between her and her dad are...tense right now. I wouldn''t ask if it wasn''t important." I try to keep my voice steady, even though May can probably see right through me. She''s standing there, arms crossed, giving Felicia and me the once-over.

    For a second, I think she''s going to say no. But then her expression softens, and a small smile tugs at her lips. "Felicia''s been a big help at the shelter while you were...well, you know. And she was worried sick about you when you were missing. Of course, she can stay. I''ll get a few things ready for her to sleep." She pauses, eyeing me with a smirk. "And since you brought her here, Peter, she can use your room. You''ll take the couch."

    Felicia''s face flushes instantly. "Oh, no, really, that''s not necessary¡ª"

    "It''s fine," May interrupts with a playful smile, clearly enjoying herself. "Peter doesn''t mind, right?"

    I sigh, knowing there''s no winning this one. "I don''t."

    Felicia just nods, though her embarrassment is written all over her face. May heads upstairs to get the room ready, and the second she''s out of sight, the tension between Felicia and me settles into the room like a heavy fog.

    At least we made it here before May noticed anything was wrong. My leg''s still killing me, but I guess I''m doing a good enough job of pretending that May hasn''t asked any awkward questions.

    Yet.

    Felicia breaks the silence first, fiddling with her fingers. "You didn''t have to do all this."

    I lean back into the couch, trying to ease the throbbing in my leg. "Yeah, I did. Felicia, your dad shouldn''t be putting his hands on you. I''m not just going to stand by and let that happen."

    She keeps her gaze on her hands, the tension in her shoulders saying more than her words ever could. "Yeah, well, there''s a lot of things he shouldn''t have done. But I guess... I should say thanks." Slowly, her eyes lift to meet mine. "Thanks, Peter."

    I smile, shrugging like it''s no big deal, but inside I feel a little lighter. "What are friends for?"

    Felicia leans back, letting out a breath she''s probably been holding for a while. "I didn''t really bring any clothes with me, though."

    I scratch the back of my neck, suddenly aware of how much I hadn''t thought this through. "Oh, right. Maybe Gwen can help with that. Once I tell her what''s going on and everything."

    Felicia glances at me, her expression unreadable for a second. "And she''ll be okay with this?"

    The question catches me off guard. "Why wouldn''t she be?" I ask, genuinely confused.

    Felicia gives me a look I can''t quite place, then shrugs. "Just asking." But there''s something in her tone, something unspoken, and I can''t tell if it''s worry or something else.

    Before I can respond, May''s footsteps echo down the stairs. "Alright, the room''s all set," she calls out, and Felicia stands, heading up to what is now her room for the night.

    As she walks past me, I can''t shake what happened with Kraven. He''s hunting me, I can''t just be moving around the city carelessly. Not with so many people I care about around.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "So, first it''s like... multiply the monomial by each term in the polynomial individually, right?" Flash asks, furrowing his brow like he''s trying to wrestle the math into submission. "Then I just multiply the coefficients?"

    I grin, and Gwen gives me one of those encouraging looks that always makes me feel like I''m on the right track. "Exactly! But there''s one more step after that. Remember what it is?"

    Flash taps his pen on the notebook, clearly trying to dig through the mental fog. "Uh... add the exponents of the like variables?"

    "Yes!" I say, maybe a little too excited. "You nailed it."

    He gives a small, satisfied smile and flips his notebook toward me. "Like that?"

    Gwen nudges him, smirking. "See, listening actually helps. Now, what do you say to the second-best tutor around?"

    "Second?" I raise an eyebrow at her.

    Flash''s face goes red, and he clicks his tongue, clearly too proud to show real gratitude. "I still think this crap is hard. But I guess you''re not a total screw-up at everything, Parker." Without waiting for a response, he snaps his notebook shut and stalks out of the library.

    I watch him go and shrug. "I think that was his way of saying ''thank you.''"

    Gwen laughs. "Give him time. He''s not always like that. You should see his impressions¡ªhe does a surprisingly good Gandhi."

    The idea of Flash Thompson doing a peace-loving Gandhi impression almost makes me choke on my water. "Sure, I''ll believe that when I see it."

    We pack up as the bell rings, and I walk with Gwen toward first period, my mind half on the tutoring session, half on something else. I can feel a knot in my stomach starting to form. I''ve been dreading this conversation all morning, Felicia really has a way of getting into someone''s head.

    "Hey, uh, can I ask you for a favor?" I say, trying to sound casual but knowing full well I probably sound nervous as hell.

    "Sure," she replies, glancing at me with a curious look. "Why do you sound so weird?"

    "Well, it''s about Felicia..." I start.

    "Felicia?" Gwen repeats, eyebrows knitting together. "What about her?"

    I hesitate for half a second, but there''s no turning back now. "Something happened at her place last night with her and her dad, and¡ª"

    "Wait," Gwen interrupts, her frown deepening. "You were at her house last night?"

    Okay. Definitely not how I wanted to drop that bomb. "Yes? But, only because it was something seriously otherwise I wouldn''t have gone. It wasn''t¡ª"

    "Peter, you didn''t answer me for hours last night. And now you''re telling me you were with her?"

    I wince. "I left my phone at home, and it was kind of an emergency situation. It wasn''t what you think."

    Gwen crosses her arms, her voice lowering as we stop just outside Ms. Winterhalter''s classroom. "Does this ''emergency'' have anything to do with the limp you''re trying to hide from me?"

    She''s sharp. Too sharp. "Uh... yeah. There was this stupid little accident, and Felicia was helping me patch up my leg, but that''s all. Really."

    She stares at me, and I can see the disappointment in her eyes, which stings way more than anger. "You didn''t think you could come to me for that? I could''ve helped too, Peter."

    I reach out, gently grabbing her arm. "No, Gwen, it wasn''t about that. I promise. If things had been different, you are the only person I would''ve gone to."

    Her expression softens, and she gives me a small, sad smile. "I trust you, Peter. I do. I just... I wish you trusted me enough to tell me what''s really going on. I don''t want to sound like a jealous girlfriend, but..." She looks away, biting her lip. "I guess I am a little jealous. I want to be the one you turn to when you need help."

    I feel my heart sink at how genuine she is. "Gwen, you do help me. More than you know."

    She blushes a little at that, her smile growing, but before I can say more, I remember the real reason I started this conversation. "There''s, uh, one other thing."

    Gwen raises an eyebrow, her expression wary. "Okay...?"

    Before I can even get a word out, Felicia walks by, completely oblivious¡ªor maybe not. "Hey, Peter, thanks again for letting me crash at your place. Your bed''s way more comfortable than it looks." She winks at me as she passes, and I swear there''s a smirk on her face that could rival a cat''s.

    Gwen doesn''t say anything. She just gives me this small, tight-lipped frown before turning and walking into class.

    What just happened?

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Throughout class, I keep sneaking glances at Gwen, hoping to catch her eye, but she''s pretending I don''t exist. I''ve never seen her like this before, and it''s messing with my head. Is she upset because I didn''t tell her? Or is it just because it''s Felicia?

    I can''t take the silent treatment anymore, so I decide to write her a note. We''ve been doing this forever, since grade school, and somehow, it feels comforting to keep that going.

    Hey, I''m really sorry. Please talk to me?

    -Peter.

    I make sure Ms. Winterhalter''s eyes are on the board before I flick the note onto Gwen''s desk. She glances over, then opens it, her expression softening a little. A moment later, she writes something and tosses the note back.

    I''m not mad, Peter. I just feel uncomfortable with a girl sleeping over at your house.

    -Gwen.

    That''s... understandable. I scribble back quickly:

    I know, Gwen. But she and her dad got into a fight. It''s bad, like, really bad. If it wasn''t serious, I would''ve never let it happen.

    -Peter.

    Her reply comes back just as fast:

    Okay. That''s a good reason. You''re off the hit list. For now.

    -Gwen.

    I can''t help but smile as I read it, and when I glance up, she''s smiling back at me. Crisis averted¡ªfor now, at least.

    But before I can relax, I hear it: screams.

    They echo from the hallway, sharp and panicked, slicing through the low murmur of classroom chatter. Everyone freezes, including me. I instinctively tense up, feeling that familiar adrenaline surge. Something''s wrong.

    Really wrong.

    Ms. Winterhalter looks toward the door, her hand trembling as she motions for us to stay seated. I''m already making a mental list of exit strategies, ready for whatever''s about to come through those doors.

    I glance at Gwen one more time. She looks as confused as I feel.

    The door slams open, and a man storms in wearing a gas mask, his rifle pointed at all of us. Panic ripples through the class¡ªsome kids scream, while Ms. Winterhalter steps into the line of fire.

    "W-Who are you?! What do you want?!" she demands, her voice shaking.

    I freeze. The man''s outfit¡ªKraven''s men wore the same thing. Is this him? Does he know who I am?

    The man''s muffled voice echoes through the gas mask as he scans the room. "School''s closed for the day. You''re all coming with me."

    Gwen''s terrified eyes lock onto mine, her grip tightening on my arm. I give her the most reassuring smile I can muster, but inside, my mind''s racing.

    "Get up! Don''t make me say it again!" the man shouts, firing a shot into the ceiling. The deafening crack sends everyone scrambling to their feet, screaming.

    Gwen''s hands tremble against my arm. "Peter..." she whispers, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

    I hold her tighter as we''re herded out of the classroom. From the corner of my eye, I catch Felicia''s subtle hand motion¡ªshe''s mimicking my web-shooters. She''s signaling me to act, but I can''t. Not yet. I grab my backpack as we leave, ready to change the moment I find an opening.

    We''re marched into the school''s auditorium, where dozens of familiar faces sit frozen in terror. Flash hovers protectively over Liz and Charlie in a corner, looking more like their bodyguard than their friend.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    I spot Mr. Baldwin cradling a sobbing girl, and Mr. Harrington with his group of students. Kraven''s men are everywhere, all armed with rifles now, not bows and arrows.

    We''re forced to sit. Gwen buries her face in my arm, her body trembling. "I can''t do this again, Peter," she chokes out, her voice cracking with fear. "Why does this keep happening to us?"

    My stomach twists with guilt. She doesn''t know it, but all of this¡ªKraven''s men, the terror in the room¡ªis because of me. Because of Spider-Man.

    But they''re not watching me too closely, so maybe Kraven doesn''t know who I am... But then why target this school?

    The auditorium doors creak open, and Kraven strides in, flanked by two of his men. He makes his way down the steps and onto the stage, eyes gleaming with predatory delight.

    "Hello, everyone," Kraven says, his voice calm, almost pleasant. "I''m sure many of you have heard of me. My intention here today should be clear. As of this moment, you are all my bait."

    Gasps and fearful murmurs ripple through the students. Kraven''s voice rises over them, commanding attention. "The prey I want to catch is Spider-Man. I''ve heard he''s saved the people of this school more than once, so I believe my best chance of finding him is through you. If Spider-Man is here, come down now, or I''ll start executing students, one by one."

    Screams and cries break out around us, and I clench my fists so hard I feel my nails digging into my palms. Gwen clings to me, shaking with fear.

    "Don''t worry, we''ll be okay," I whisper to her, trying to sound braver than I feel. I need a plan. I need a way to get Gwen and everyone else out of here, but I can''t do anything with her holding onto me like this.

    Kraven''s voice booms again. "Where are you, Spider-Man?! Should I start killing them now?"

    Just as I''m about to make my move, a voice calls out from across the room.

    "Spider-Man won''t play your games!" It''s Flash, standing tall and defiant. Every eye in the room turns to him. "He''s a hero. And no matter what the media or anyone else says, the people at this school know what''s up. You''re just another freak looking to get famous off his back."

    No. Flash, you idiot.

    Kraven''s lips curl into a predatory smile. "Perfect. A volunteer." He motions for his men to grab Flash, and they move swiftly. One of the guards from behind us heads toward the stage, where Kraven pulls out a knife, pressing the blade to Flash''s throat.

    Liz and Charlie scream, and I feel Gwen''s grip tighten around my arm. "Peter, they''re gonna¡ª"

    "No," I whisper firmly, "they won''t."

    As Kraven holds the knife to Flash''s throat, my heart pounds harder with every second. Gwen''s trembling grip on my arm feels tighter than ever, like she''s afraid to let go. My mind races. I need to get out of here and change, but she''s not letting me move.

    "Peter, what are we going to do?" Gwen whispers, her voice cracking. There''s raw fear in her eyes as she glances at Kraven and his men. "We can''t just sit here and let him kill Flash."

    "I know," I whisper back, keeping my voice calm, even though every nerve in my body is screaming. "But I''m gonna try to do something. I just need to step out for a second."

    Her fingers dig deeper into my arm. "Step out? Where are you going? You can''t just leave!" Her voice wobbles, teetering on panic.

    "I''m not leaving, Gwen. I just need to try and call the police," I lie, feeling the weight of what I''m saying sink into me. "I just need to make it into the hallway, but I need to do it alone. If we both go, we''ll draw attention."

    She stares at me, wide-eyed, her breathing shaky. "No... Peter, please don''t. What if something happens to you? What if they see you?"

    I lean in close, forcing a smile. "I''ll be fine. I''m just going a few feet away. I need to make the call. The police need to get here, fast. I swear I''ll be back before you know it."

    Gwen''s fingers hover, loosening slightly, but I can see her hesitation. She''s scared, maybe more scared for me than for herself. And part of me hates that I''m the reason for it.

    "Peter, I don''t want you to..." Her voice trails off, trembling, and I know she''s struggling with letting me go.

    "I know, Gwen." I lower my voice, gently pulling her hands off my arm. "But someone''s gotta do something. I''ll be right back. Just stay low, okay?"

    She bites her lip, blinking back the fear, and finally nods. "Okay... but please, be careful."

    "I will," I say, giving her hand one last squeeze before slipping away.

    I move low, weaving through the rows of chairs as Kraven''s men keep their eyes on the crowd. Each step is slower than I want it to be because of the damn limp that''s still lingering from that arrow wound.

    My side and shoulder burn, but I push through the pain, gritting my teeth as I make my way to the back of the auditorium.

    Finally, I slip into the hallway, the cool air hitting my face as I try to ignore the dull ache pulsing through my body. I duck into a janitor''s closet, locking the door behind me, and quickly pull off my shirt.

    The ugly bruising from the arrow shot still blooms across my side, spreading from where the shaft had punched through. The wound''s mostly healed now, but every movement feels like someone''s driving the arrow back in.

    I grit my teeth, forcing myself to suit up despite the pain. No time to baby myself.

    Within seconds, I''m Spider-Man again.

    I crawl into the ceiling vents, staying low as I navigate my way back toward the auditorium. My body feels sluggish, my limp more noticeable now that I''m trying to move quietly.

    My shoulder and side protest with every motion, but I push through the pain.

    People are depending on me.

    Gwen''s depending on me.

    My phone vibrates in my suit, and I pull it out, quickly finding Captain Stacy''s number from the police department''s website. I hit dial, keeping my voice low as I crawl along the rafters, overlooking the chaos below.

    "Captain Stacy," his voice crackles over the line.

    "Captain, it''s Peter," I whisper, my eyes scanning the auditorium. "Kraven''s got students hostage at Midtown."

    "We know. SWAT''s already on the way," he replies, calm but serious. "Is Gwen¡ªsafe?"

    I glance down, spotting Gwen, still clinging to herself in the crowd. "Yeah, she''s safe. I''m keeping an eye on her. But Kraven''s threatening to start killing people if I don''t show. I''ve got a plan, but I''ll need time."

    "You have a plan?" Captain Stacy says, his voice growing sharper with urgency. "You going to fill me in?"

    "Just get your men ready to breach. I''ll create a distraction to give the students an opening to escape. Once they''re out, I''ll need your help to deal with Kraven''s men. I''ll handle the big guy himself."

    There''s a brief silence before Captain Stacy speaks again, the tension in his voice clear. "Understood. But Peter¡ªmake sure Gwen gets out of there."

    "I will," I reply, cutting the line.

    I drop down from the rafters, clinging to the shadows just behind the stage curtains. The weight of my body shifts painfully onto my bad leg, but I shake it off. No time to think about that.

    I web the fire alarm, yanking it down hard. The deafening blare and flashing red lights send the room into chaos. Students scream, and Kraven''s men frantically try to maintain control. Perfect.

    "Stay seated!" one of Kraven''s men shouts, his rifle raised, but it''s too late. Panic takes over as the students leap from their seats, rushing for the exits.

    I swing down from the ceiling, landing behind one of the guards. Before he can react, I web his rifle to the floor and knock him out with a swift punch to the gut. The sharp pain in my side flares up as I twist, but I can''t stop now.

    "Everyone out! Now!" I shout, swinging over the heads of the students. I fling the emergency doors open, waving them through. Students flood out into the hallways, their footsteps pounding like a stampede.

    Gunfire erupts at the front as the police burst into the building, engaging Kraven''s men in a firefight. I leap up to the rafters again, moving as fast as my battered body will allow. Every step sends fresh pain through my side, but I don''t stop. I can''t stop.

    On the stage, Kraven''s eyes find mine, a grin spreading across his face as he tosses Flash to the ground. He draws his hunting knives, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

    "Spider-Man," Kraven growls, his voice dripping with excitement. "Finally. The real hunt begins."

    I land in front of him, fists clenched, ignoring the burning pain radiating from my wounds. "Hope you brought your A-game, Kraven. Because this ends now."

    He charges at me, knives flashing in the stage lights, and the fight begins. Every punch and dodge sends jolts of pain through my injured leg and side, but I push through it. This has to end¡ªno matter how much it hurts.

    Kraven lunges at me with speed and precision, but I manage to dodge, barely. I twist mid-air, shooting a web at his chest, but he slashes through it with a swipe of his knife. The guy''s reflexes are insane.

    I land hard, the impact sending a sharp pain through my already injured leg. My vision blurs for a moment, the pain from the arrow wound pulsing through my side and shoulder.

    Kraven smirks, like he can sense my weakness. "You''re slower, Spider-Man. Weaker. How''s your wound treating you?" He moves forward, knives at the ready, and I have to focus, using the last bit of space between us to web his arm and yank him back.

    "You''re not winning this, Kraven," I say, trying to keep my voice steady as I leap back and knock him off-balance, sending him tumbling into the backstage area.

    Away from the gunfire. Away from the students.

    I follow him into the shadows, landing with a grunt as my leg protests with every step. Kraven''s back on his feet almost immediately, eyes gleaming with amusement as he cracks his neck.

    He stalks forward, knives spinning in his hands. "A good hunter always knows how to cripple his prey before the kill," he says with a grin, his accent thick. "You''re no different."

    Before I can react, he feints left, then sweeps low, aiming a kick directly at my injured leg. I can''t move fast enough to avoid it. His foot slams into my thigh, sending a wave of agony up through my body.

    I stumble, gasping, trying to catch myself, but he''s already on me, landing blow after blow. His martial arts training is brutal and precise¡ªeach strike aimed at my weak spots.

    I''m on the defensive now, blocking as much as I can, but every hit sends shocks of pain through me. I throw a punch, but Kraven easily dodges and lands a sharp elbow to my ribs. I drop to one knee, my vision swimming.

    "Who hired you?!" I yell, desperate for anything that might help me turn the tide. "Who''s behind this?"

    Kraven laughs, circling me like a predator. "It''s not about who hired me. It''s about the thrill of the hunt. The joy of breaking someone like you." His voice is calm, measured. "But you already know that, don''t you, Spider-Man? The thrill of living on the edge, of constantly dancing with death? You can''t tell me that you don''t feel it."

    He''s messing with me¡ªplaying mind games¡ªbut I can''t let him get in my head. I have to focus.

    I roll to the side, using my web to pull down a lighting rig from above. It crashes down, sending a shower of sparks between us.

    Kraven leaps back, startled for a moment, and I take the opportunity to fire a web at his feet, yanking him toward me and landing a punch squarely on his jaw. He stumbles backward.

    I know I can''t out-punch him. He''s too agile, too trained.

    I glance at the ropes hanging from the stage rigging and the set pieces around us. There''s my chance.

    Kraven charges again, but this time I leap into the air, swinging around one of the hanging ropes. I kick him hard in the chest, sending him sprawling back against the stage wall.

    He snarls, pushing himself up, but I''m already moving, webbing one of the heavy sandbags used to counterbalance the curtains. I swing it down at him, knocking him off his feet and crashing into the ground.

    He growls in frustration, getting back up, but I''m not letting him recover this time. I use my webbing to grab a loose curtain and yank it down, wrapping him up in the thick fabric.

    He struggles, slashing at the ropes, but I''m faster now, using the distraction to land a series of punches¡ªthis time aimed at his unprotected side.

    "I''m not just prey for you to hunt, Kraven," I say, gritting my teeth as I web his arms to his sides, tightening the makeshift trap around him. "This isn''t your jungle."

    With one last hard punch to his jaw, I send him crashing into the ground, knocking him out cold.

    I stand there, panting, every muscle in my body screaming in pain. My side throbs where the arrow wound still lingers, and my leg feels like it''s about to give out, but I did it. I beat him.

    Just as I catch my breath, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn to see Captain Stacy rushing in, gun drawn, his eyes scanning the scene. He freezes for a moment when he sees me standing over Kraven''s unconscious body.

    For a second, we lock eyes. I can see the worry on his face, the relief. His daughter is safe. Everyone is safe.

    "Spider-Man..." he says, lowering his gun as he looks at Kraven. "You did it."

    I nod, trying to mask the pain I''m in. "Yeah...yep." I say out of breath, I fall down to my butt. "Hey, so, you think you can do me a favor?"

    Captain Stacy looks at me curiously. "What?"

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Peter!" Gwen''s voice cuts through the crowd, and before I know it, she''s rushing up to me. "Where were you?! I couldn''t find you anywhere." Her eyes scan my face, widening as she notices the bruises. "What... what happened to your face?"

    I blink, trying to think of an explanation that doesn''t involve the fact that I''ve just been in a fistfight with Kraven the Hunter. "Well, that''s a funny story..." I start, but Gwen cuts me off, her attention already shifting.

    "Wait... Spider-Man was here. He actually showed up before the police. Again." She frowns, her eyes narrowing. "And you... left. Right before. Like you always do." She stares at me, her gaze hard and searching, and my heart skips a beat.

    Before I can answer, a voice echoes from above us. "Yes, greetings citizens! I have saved you once again!" It''s a high-pitched voice, and we all look up to see none other than "Spider-Man" standing on the roof of the school. Except, it''s not me. It''s Captain Stacy in my suit, waving like he''s on top of the world.

    Wait. Do I sound like that?

    Gwen looks at me, puzzled for a moment, then back at the rooftop where Captain Stacy strikes a pose, his hands on his hips. "It''s Spider-Man!" Flash shouts from nearby. "Yeah! Go, Spidey! He did it again!"

    My biggest fan/hater.

    "I am happy to help, my fellow humans!" Captain Stacy bellows, and I wince internally at his impression of me. Really? Is that what people think I sound like?

    He strikes another exaggerated pose, then runs off, disappearing over the roof as the crowd erupts in applause and cheers. I''ve never gotten a send-off like that.

    Is it weird that I''m jealous?

    Gwen turns back to me, her eyes softening as she steps closer. For a second, I wonder if she''s onto me¡ªif she doesn''t buy Captain Stacy''s less-than-stellar performance.

    But instead, she surprises me by kissing me, pulling back and staring into my eyes. "No powers, and you did something so brave," she whispers, smiling. "I was right when I said Spider-Man has nothing on my Peter."

    Her Peter? I''m Gwen''s Peter?

    I smile, feeling like an absolute idiot. "Yeah, well, this Peter got his butt kicked before he could even call the cops. They found me, and an officer saved me before things got worse." I gesture to the bruise on my face, hoping my story holds up.

    Gwen hugs me tightly, and for a moment, all the tension melts away. "You''re still a hero in my book, Peter Parker."

    Out of the corner of my eye, I see Felicia watching us. She''s leaning against a tree, hands in her pockets, giving me a casual thumbs up. But then, with a sly smirk, she flips me off. I can''t help but smile back.

    The police start hauling Kraven out, his face cold and unreadable as they load him into the van. He doesn''t say a word, but I know he was close¡ªtoo close¡ªto figuring out who I am.

    He might not have been the strongest enemy I''ve faced, but he was definitely one of the smartest. This could have gone a lot worse.

    "Peter! Gwen!" Aunt May''s voice calls out, and I turn to see her running towards us, her face pale with worry. "Oh my God, not again?! The school... again? What is it with this place?" She pulls both of us into a crushing hug, which is not great for my still-tender wounds. "Are you okay? What happened?"

    "I''m¡ªI''m fine, May!" I strain under her grip, my side and shoulder aching. "Seriously, I''m okay!"

    "Oh, don''t be such a baby," May huffs, releasing me before glancing over at Felicia, who looks a little awkward standing nearby. May waves her over, and Felicia hesitates a bit before joining us. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

    Felicia nods shyly. "Yes, ma''am. I''m fine. Thanks."

    I can tell she''s not used to people fussing over her like this, but she gives a small smile. Gwen and Felicia exchange a look¡ªsomething unspoken passing between them.

    I know Gwen''s still thinking about what I told her earlier. I reach for her hand, and she smiles, giving it a squeeze.

    "Felicia''s staying with us for a while," I explain. "She... she needs some clothes, and I don''t think it''s a good idea for her to go back home for now."

    Gwen''s expression softens. "I can help with that." She glances at Felicia, offering her a warm smile. "I''m glad you''re safe. Both of you." She gives my hand one last squeeze before she heads off to find her dad. I can only imagine what Captain Stacy''s going through trying to wriggle out of that sweaty suit.

    As Gwen walks away, I spot Flash in the distance, his father yelling at him while an officer tries to intervene. I turn to May. "I''ll be right back," I say, and head over to where Flash is standing watching as his father yells at some other officers, while Flash looks more deflated than I''ve ever seen him.

    "What do you want, Parker?" he grumbles, not even looking at me.

    I hesitate, then shrug. "I just wanted to say... what you did in there. It was brave. And really cool."

    Flash''s usual smirk flickers back to life. "Yeah, well, you should try it sometime instead of pissing your pants, Parker." He waves me off, but as I turn to leave, I hear him mutter, "Thanks."

    I glance back, offering a small smile before heading back to Aunt May and Felicia. Maybe, just maybe, there''s hope for Flash Thompson after all.

 That Fateful Night

    NORMAN Osborn sat in his office, staring out into the night, his reflection faint against the backdrop of New York City''s towering skyline. His empire. The very city he''d helped mold, where he''d clawed his way to the top.

    But tonight, the gleaming skyscrapers felt distant, like monuments to something lost. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for the glass of bourbon on his desk.

    The hours...days, sometimes...vanished, slipping from his memory as though they''d never existed.

    How many times now? How many moments had he blinked, only to wake up somewhere else, someone else?

    A slow, suffocating dread crept up his spine as he stared at the city. Had he made a mistake?

    He wasn''t used to doubt. Osborns didn''t doubt. They built, conquered, succeeded. But now, in the quiet moments when he felt himself slipping away, the question haunted him. Had he gone too far? Had he become something he never intended?

    No. He couldn''t think like that. His life¡ªeverything he''d ever done¡ªhad been in the pursuit of something greater. His work, his sacrifices, all of it was meant to elevate mankind. To bring humanity beyond its frail, mortal shell. He had done this for the world, not for himself. That''s what he told himself.

    But then why... why did he feel like he was crumbling?

    He looked down at the newspaper on his desk, the front page glaring up at him with venom: "Spider-Man Terrorizes School After Fight With Notorious Hunter!" A menace. A nuisance.

    Norman''s lip curled into a sneer. A hero? He scoffed. Spider-Man was no hero. He was something greater¡ªsomething more¡ªbut the fool didn''t even realize it.

    There was a time when Norman had admired the boy, in a way. The potential, the raw strength that he had never even asked for. Yet here he was, wasting it. Spider-Man was powerful, but Peter Parker? He was weak.

    Norman''s fingers tightened around the paper, the edges crinkling under the pressure of his frustration. Look at him, saving kittens, stopping muggers in alleyways, playing the Good Samaritan when he could be...

    A surge of anger burned through him. Norman slammed the glass off the desk, the shattering sound filling the room as it exploded against the floor.

    A waste. All of it. That power should have been his. It should have been Norman Osborn leading the next stage of human evolution, not some naive, self-righteous child.

    His jaw clenched, teeth grinding as he thought about the hours he''d spent, the nights he''d sacrificed for his work. For what? To be haunted by a voice that now mocked him? To share his body with something darker, something crueler?

    No. He wasn''t sharing. He was in control.

    But as much as he told himself that, the truth gnawed at him, festering in the corners of his mind.

    The voice. It always came when he was weakest, when he was alone. The voice that told him the path to power wasn''t through humanity''s elevation, but through its fear. And that voice had grown louder.

    His skin prickled with cold sweat, a tremor running through him as the door to his office creaked open. Norman didn''t turn, though he heard the familiar, uneven footsteps behind him.

    "Dad?" Harry''s voice was thin, brittle. He stood in the doorway, pale, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent than usual. He looked tired¡ªsick, even.

    Norman didn''t look at him, just stared out at the city. "What are you doing here, Harry? I didn''t ask for you."

    Harry shifted uneasily. "Yeah, I know. It''s just... you haven''t been home in a while, and I, uh¡ª" He scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting to the floor. "I ran out of money, so I was hoping¡ª"

    "No." Norman''s voice cut through the air like a blade. He turned to face his son, eyes narrowing in disgust. "I won''t fund your pathetic habits, Harry. You''re a disgrace. A waste of my blood."

    Harry winced but didn''t argue. He just stood there, broken and silent, staring at the floor as if he''d expected the words. Maybe he had.

    For a moment, the room was silent, the tension thick enough to choke on. Then Norman''s tone softened, though it was no less cruel. "Tell me, Harry. Have you seen Peter Parker lately?"

    Harry blinked, caught off guard. "No. I haven''t been going to school... and we''re not exactly on great terms."

    "Of course you''re not," Norman muttered, a cold smile curling at his lips. "Even Parker can see that you''re not worth his time anymore. You''re weak, Harry. And Peter, he''s finally realizing how wasted his efforts are with you, as have I." He chuckled, the sound low and venomous. "That''ll be all."

    Norman turned back to the window, but then it hit him¡ªhard, like a hammer to the chest. The pain.

    He collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest. "No... no... not now!" His voice cracked with panic as the sensation spread through his body, cold and sharp. His muscles tensed, twisted, changed.

    "Dad? Dad?!" Harry rushed toward him, eyes wide in fear, but Norman shoved him away violently, snarling.

    "Get out!" Norman clutched his head, his skin contorting, twisting, as if something beneath it was crawling out. His teeth sharpened, eyes blazing yellow. He could feel the other side of him, the thing that had been lurking beneath his skin, finally tearing through.

    Harry''s voice trembled. "What¡ªwhat is happening?"

    Norman''s grin widened unnaturally, his skin shifting to a sickly green. He cracked his neck, his bones snapping grotesquely into place as he rose from the ground, now towering over his son. His voice, once his own, now dripped with malevolent glee.

    "My son," he rasped, the words twisted by a voice not entirely his.

    Harry staggered back, fear filling his eyes. "What... what...dad?"

    Norman¡ªno, the Goblin¡ªturned to the wall, pressing a hidden switch. A door slid open, revealing the suit. The glider. The bombs. The toys he''d created to unleash fear. His laugh filled the room, echoing off the walls like a death rattle.

    "Don''t worry, boy," the Goblin cackled, eyes gleaming with madness. "The game is just beginning."

    The weak, cowering man Norman once was had been left behind. This was the next evolution. This was power. If Peter Parker didn''t understand that yet, he soon would.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "So, you''re saying someone hired Kraven?" Captain Stacy asks as we both set the table in his cozy dining room, the smell of freshly baked lasagna wafting through the air.

    "Yeah, and I''m starting to think it could''ve been Norman Osborn," I reply, placing a few plates in front of the chairs. "He''s the only one I know who might try something like this. He was behind every other jerk I''ve gone up against, so it wouldn''t be too crazy to assume he was involved in this too."

    Captain Stacy nods, thoughtfully arranging the silverware on the plates. "Right. Then what about the one who caused all those explosions? You think that was Norman too?"

    The mention of that madman makes my heart race. "I don''t know what his deal was, but I wouldn''t be surprised if Norman had something to do with it. His fingerprints are all over this city''s chaos."

    Captain Stacy sighs, running a hand through his hair. "The only problem is, from a legal standpoint, Norman''s untouchable. He''s kept his name out of everything. There''s no way to tie him back to any of these guys, other than their word, which won''t mean much in court."

    I crack my jaw in frustration. "Yeah, but nobody can do so much bad and scrape everything away. There''s got to be something¡ªsome way to tie him back to all of this. The Goblin pills, the creation of those suits. There has to be a lead we can follow. Wait a minute¡ª" I say.

    Captain Stacy turns to me. "Yeah?"

    "There was a room, in Oscorp the day vulture held us all hostage, it was a room filled with information about something called Project reinvention. I mean it had information on just about every weird thing that''s been happening the Scorpion, Rhino, I mean even Doctor Conners. I''m sure something in there could help me even find a cure for him. And maybe even help put Norman Osborn behind bars." I say, and he looks at me deep in thought.

    But before Captain Stacy can respond, Gwen walks into the kitchen, her mother and younger brother trailing behind her. "Dad, please don''t tell me you''re talking about work stuff again," she says, rolling her eyes playfully. "We said we wouldn''t do that tonight."

    "Just giving Peter the dad talk," Captain Stacy replies, shooting Gwen a reassuring smile as he leans down to give Helen a quick kiss on the cheek. "And look, Peter''s finished with that famous lasagna of his. How about we all dig in?"

    "Perfect timing," Helen says, setting down a basket of garlic bread on the table. "I''m starving."

    As everyone takes their seats, I can''t help but feel a sense of normalcy wash over me. It''s a stark contrast to the chaos of the past few days. The warmth of the family atmosphere makes me forget, if only for a moment, the burden I carry as Spider-Man.

    "So, Peter," Helen says, a teasing glint in her eye, "I''ve got to admit I was a bit surprised when Gwen told me she was taking you to the homecoming. I mean, it really reminded me of when you both were kids, and Peter would always follow you around while you played pirates and princesses¡ª"

    "Mom," Gwen interjects, her voice strained. "How about we talk about something else?"

    Arthur snorts, unable to resist joining in. "They''re dating now, Mom. She''s always up on the phone talking to him."

    I feel the heat rush to my face, and I can see Gwen''s cheeks flush a similar shade. "Arthur, the one time you decide to join the conversation, and it has to be something stupid."

    Captain Stacy smirks, clearly enjoying my discomfort as he takes a sip of his water.

    "Gwenny, there''s nothing to be embarrassed about. I definitely approve. Peter is a sweet boy with a good head on his shoulders. I mean, his Aunt May still sends us Christmas letters every year. She and I are book club buddies online." She smirks at me, and I feel my embarrassment double.

    "Thank you, ma''am," I manage to say, trying to keep my composure.

    Helen takes a bite of the lasagna and smiles approvingly. "Peter? I didn''t know you could cook so well. If I''m being honest, I expected to have to pretend to enjoy this."

    "Uhm...thank...you?" I say, unsure of how to take that.

    "Mom, that''s rude," Gwen chimes in, frowning slightly at her mother.

    "I didn''t mean anything by it! Peter sure is full of surprises," Helen replies, a playful grin on her face. "So, tell me, what do you plan on doing after high school?"

    Would wearing red spandex and getting the crap kicked out of me be an acceptable response? I clear my throat, trying to keep things light. "Maybe a cop. I mean, with everything Captain Stacy¡ªGeorge¡ªhas done, he''s saved so many lives. It really is incredible."

    "Oh, come on, Peter. You''re no slouch yourself. I mean, look at all the people you''ve saved¡ª" He quickly stops himself, clearing his throat. "¡ªfrom failing...tests?"

    Gwen looks between us, her curiosity piqued. "I didn''t realize you both had become so buddy-buddy," she says with a teasing smile.

    "Well, I''m just happy you chose someone who doesn''t stick people''s heads in toilets for fun," Captain Stacy says, clearly taking a dig at our favorite star quarterback. "Peter''s a good kid."

    I can''t help but smile at his words; he really is a good guy and a great dad to Gwen. The contrast between him and Felicia''s dad is stark in my mind. "Thank you, Sir," I say, genuinely appreciative.

    "You''re so formal, Peter," Helen chuckles, shaking her head. "You don''t have to be so on edge or anything. We really do think you''re a good match for our Gwen. She has a habit of attracting the wrong crowd; I''m just happy she knew how to filter through the trash."

    "Mom!" Gwen protests, her cheeks now bright red. "That''s rude!"

    Helen raises an eyebrow, unrepentant. "What? It''s true."

    I can''t help but laugh a little, grateful for the lightheartedness of the moment. "Hey, I''m just glad to be here," I say, feeling more relaxed. "I promise I won''t stick anyone''s head in a toilet."

    "Good to hear," Gwen says, finally smiling, the tension easing between us.

    The conversation flows easily after that, with laughter punctuating our stories about school, our plans for the future, and even some embarrassing moments from childhood. It feels so normal, almost like a refuge from the chaos outside my life as Spider-Man.

    For a moment, I can forget about Norman Osborn, or Kraven or the green crazy guy, and I can just enjoy the warmth of this family gathering.

    As dinner wraps up, I glance over at Gwen, who''s standing beside me as we both tackle the dishes. She catches my eye, and there''s this quiet smile that passes between us.

    Once everything''s clean, my phone buzzes. It''s a text from May telling me she''ll be working late tonight at the Maple, but reminding me to head home soon since the sun''s setting. Guess it''s time to go.

    I say my goodbyes to the Stacys, getting a warm hug from Helen, a firm handshake from Captain Stacy, and a grunt from Arthur, who barely looks up from his phone. Gwen walks me to the door, and there''s this lingering feeling that neither of us wants to let the moment end.

    "Be safe getting home, and make sure you text me when you make it back," she says, her voice soft. "Oh, and don''t forget, the new Over-Lord comic drops tomorrow. We definitely need to get there early before they sell out."

    I raise an eyebrow. "Wait, I thought we dropped Over-Lord after the mess they pulled in the last issue? Didn''t you say you were done?"

    Gwen gives me this small smile as she leans against the door, cracking it just enough that her family can''t see us. "Yeah, but I changed my mind. I think that whole twist actually makes the story more interesting... in a weird way."

    I laugh softly. "Of course you did. Okay, deal. Tomorrow, then."

    And then, she kisses me. It''s gentle, but there''s something in it¡ªlike she''s telling me without words that she''s glad I''m here, and part of her life now. When she pulls back, her eyes linger on mine.

    "I''ll see you tomorrow," she whispers.

    As I turn to go, I can''t help but grin like an idiot. Seriously, have I mentioned how awesome it is having a girlfriend?

    I shove my hands in my pockets, glancing back one last time as she gives me that trademark Gwen smile, and I head home, feeling like maybe, just maybe, life can balance out. Even with everything else going on.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I walk down the street, the cool evening air settling around me, when my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen¡ªit''s Harry. My stomach tightens. He hasn''t talked to me since that awkward day with Gwen. I pick up, my voice light, almost relieved.

    "Harry? Hey, man, I''m glad to hear from you¡ª"

    "Pete? Pete, listen¡ªI think something''s wro¡ª"

    His voice cuts out, replaced by static.

    "Harry? Hello?"

    There''s a brief pause, then I hear him again, his breath heavy, like he''s been running. "It''s my dad, Pete... something''s happening. I don''t¡ªI don''t know what''s wrong with him."

    My pulse spikes, fear creeping into my chest. "Harry, what do you mean? What''s going on? Where are you?"

    The line crackles, more silence. Then, from the other end, a sound that freezes me in place¡ªa low, guttural laugh. One I recognize too well. Him. That man.

    My throat tightens. That laugh has haunted me, waking me up in cold sweats. The memories flash in my mind¡ªthe destruction, the bodies, the family he slaughtered...

    He''s after Norman.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    "Harry!" I shout, panic rising in my voice. "I''m calling the police, just tell me where you are!"

    His breathing quickens. "No... Pete, don''t! We''re at Oscorp, but¡ª"

    The line goes dead.

    For a second, all I hear is the sound of my own heart, pounding so hard it feels like it''s trying to escape my chest. That man. The one who caused so much death. The one I couldn''t stop. He''s at Oscorp¡ªand Harry''s trapped in there with him.

    I don''t hesitate. I dash into a nearby alley, the shadows swallowing me as I yank off my jacket. My suit is already beneath my clothes, the fabric clinging to me like a second skin. I pull my mask from my pocket, my hands shaking slightly. I won''t let him hurt Harry. I won''t let anyone else die.

    With the mask in place, I pull out my phone and quickly dial Captain Stacy.

    "Peter? Forget something?" he answers, his tone casual, unaware of the storm brewing.

    "It''s him," I say, my voice sharp, laced with urgency. "The one behind the bombings¡ªhe''s going after Norman Osborn. And Harry''s there with him!"

    There''s a pause, tension thickening in the air. "Peter, listen to me¡ªdon''t do anything rash. I''ll get some men together and¡ª"

    "There''s no time!" I snap, cutting him off, already leaping onto a nearby wall and swinging into the night, the city lights blurring beneath me. "Just get there. I''ll make sure no one else dies!"

    I hang up, my heart hammering in my chest, my mind racing. The wind rushes past me as I pick up speed, Oscorp''s looming silhouette growing closer in the distance. I ditch my clothes in an alley along with my phone, but that laugh still echoes in my head again, taunting me.

    I grit my teeth, the cold night air biting at my face through the mask.

    Not again. Not this time. Nobody else dies.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Oscorp''s lobby is calm when I bust through the doors¡ªtoo calm. Security guards and employees all freeze, staring at me like I''ve lost it.

    "Where''s Norman Osborn?!" My voice cuts through the quiet, and the guards move in fast, hands tightening around their tasers.

    "Sir, I''m going to have to ask you to vacate the premises. You can''t just¡ª"

    Before he finishes, the ceiling above us caves in with a deafening crash. Instinct kicks in. I shoot a webline, yanking two of the guards out of harm''s way as chunks of debris smash into the floor, sending dust and smoke everywhere. The rest scatter, coughing and disoriented.

    Then I hear it¡ªthe sickening, familiar laughter.

    Through the haze, the green figure I hoped I''d never see again emerges, perched on his glider. And in his hand, limp and unconscious, is Harry.

    "Ready for another game?" the Goblin grins, his voice dripping with malice. Before I can react, he flings Harry''s body toward me like he''s nothing.

    I dive forward, webbing Harry''s torso mid-air and yanking him into my arms, skidding backward across the floor. I check his pulse¡ªit''s faint, but he''s alive. Just unconscious.

    "What did you do to him?! Where''s Norman?!" I shout, glaring up at the Goblin as rage courses through me.

    His grin widens, twisted and cruel. "Norman''s on vacation. It''s only the Goblin now."

    My stomach drops. Vacation?

    The Goblin edges closer on his glider, an orange bomb already in his hand. The last time he used one of those, people died. And I wasn''t fast enough to stop it.

    Not this time.

    My senses scream at me to move, and I leap to the side just as he hurls the bomb at the ground. The explosion rocks the lobby, fire and debris scattering everywhere. I shield Harry''s body as best as I can, rolling behind a fallen chunk of wall for cover.

    "Come on! You want answers don''t you?!" The Goblin''s voice rings out over the chaos. "Let''s see if you''re brave enough to get them!"

    I clench my fists, placing Harry on a safe spot behind a pillar. "Stay here," I mutter, though I know he can''t hear me. Then, heart pounding, I turn back toward the wreckage, the Goblin''s laughter echoing through the ruined building.

    If he wants a fight, I''ll give him one.

    The Goblin doesn''t waste time. He darts toward me on his glider, his grin wide as he fires a rapid volley of bullets from twin turrets mounted under his boots. I dive behind an overturned desk as the shots tear through the walls, showering sparks and bits of debris.

    "Come on, Spider-Man!" the Goblin cackles, swooping low and dropping an orange bomb into the middle of the room. The device ticks ominously before detonating, sending a shockwave through the building.

    I barely manage to shield two nearby security guards with a webbed barrier. The blast knocks me back into a wall, my ears ringing.

    People scream and scramble for cover as the Goblin continues his assault, tossing more bombs into the chaos. I dodge left, flipping over a desk to yank a worker out of the way just before another bomb hits. The heat singes my skin, and I feel the sting of shrapnel cut through my suit, but I push forward.

    "Stay down!" I shout at the terrified bystanders, webbing them into a safe corner. The Goblin laughs again, circling above like a predator toying with its prey.

    "You''re getting sloppy, Spider-Man! All this worrying about the little people... it''ll get you killed."

    I grit my teeth, scanning the room for an opening. He''s too fast in the air, too mobile. I need to get him grounded. That''s when an idea strikes.

    I leap onto a column, flipping through the air just as the Goblin swoops in close. I time it perfectly, launching myself off the pillar and kicking him square in the chest.

    He grunts in surprise as he''s knocked backward, crashing through the shattered glass of the lobby and out onto the street.

    I land with a roll, springing up to see the Goblin staggering to his feet. His glider hovers nearby, ready to rejoin him. We circle each other in the middle of the road, the night air thick with tension.

    "You''re resilient, I''ll give you that," the Goblin sneers, wiping blood from his lip. "But I wanted you ready for this. That''s why I sent Kraven after you, Spider-Man."

    I freeze. "Kraven? You sent him?"

    The Goblin''s eyes gleam with amusement. "Oh, yes. A little warm-up, to get you nice and prepared for our next meeting."

    My fists tighten. "What are you¡ª"

    "I''ve been waiting to meet with you again after our last encounter, planning all sorts of fun activities," the Goblin says, his voice dripping with malice, but I don''t have time to process his words because his glider rockets toward me.

    I barely dive out of the way, feeling the rush of air as the glider zips past, cutting it too close. I fire a web at it, trying to yank it off course, but the Goblin snaps his fingers, and the glider loops back around, smashing through a parked car before zeroing in on me again.

    I throw myself into a forward roll, dodging by inches as the glider crashes into a lamppost, shattering it to pieces.

    The Goblin is on me in seconds, throwing wild punches, and I meet him blow for blow. We trade hits, every punch sending shockwaves of pain through my body.

    The Goblin''s strength matches mine, and I can feel the fatigue setting in. He''s fast¡ªtoo fast¡ªand I''m barely keeping up. But then he plays dirty.

    "Let''s make it interesting, shall we?" he growls, grabbing a passing civilian by the collar and flinging them toward oncoming traffic. I''m forced to leap out of the way, firing a webline to save the man just before he''s hit.

    The Goblin uses the distraction to hit me hard in the ribs. I feel something crack, the pain radiating through my side. I stumble, trying to catch my breath as he throws another bomb toward a crowd of fleeing people.

    No time to think. I web the bomb mid-air, swinging it into an empty alley before it detonates. I turn back just in time to catch a punch aimed at my face, twisting the Goblin''s arm and kicking him back with everything I have left.

    The street is chaos¡ªcivilians fleeing in all directions, cars swerving to avoid the wreckage, the Goblin cackling in the midst of it all. But I can''t give him an inch.

    I won''t let him win.

    Suddenly, sirens blare in the distance, and a line of squad cars comes skidding into view, forming a blockade around the area.

    "Freeze!" Captain Stacy''s voice booms through a megaphone, and I see him stepping out of his car, gun drawn. Officers pour out, surrounding the Goblin.

    He grins, his eyes flicking from me to the line of officers, then back again. "Well, looks like we''ve got company."

    For a moment, everything is still, the tension thick.

    "You won''t get away," I pant, my fists still clenched.

    The Goblin''s grin twists into something far more sinister, his eyes gleaming with a madness that chills me to my core.

    He begins to laugh¡ªloud, crazed, filling the night air with that maniacal sound that makes my skin crawl. The kind of laugh that makes you realize just how much danger everyone around you is in.

    Suddenly, the windows of the Oscorp building above us start shattering from explosions, one after another, glass raining down like deadly shards from the sky.

    Screams erupt from the people below as they dive for cover, and I leap into action, webbing a few of the larger glass panels before they can hit the street.

    But it''s too much. Too fast. Chaos everywhere.

    The Goblin''s laugh echoes louder. He reaches into his belt, pulling out one of those damn orange bombs, and hurls it straight at me. "Catch!" he roars.

    I barely have time to react, diving to the side as the bomb detonates. The shockwave slams into me, sending me skidding across the pavement.

    Before I can get up, he''s looming over me, his face twisted in that terrible grin. "Maybe it''s time to raise the stakes, Spider-Man. Maybe I''ll pay a little visit to a certain diner. Wouldn''t that make things more... interesting?"

    My heart stops.

    The Maple. Aunt May''s there. With Felicia.

    I feel the blood drain from my face. "No," I whisper, my voice barely audible. He knows. Somehow, he knows.

    The Goblin cackles again, hopping onto his glider. "Yes. Let''s see how you do when the people you care about are in play."

    "No!" I shout, scrambling to my feet, but it''s too late. He rockets into the air, veering toward the building and launching another bomb into its side.

    The explosion rips through the structure, blasting chunks of concrete and metal into the streets below. I can barely process the devastation as debris comes crashing down.

    I spot a man and a woman frozen in the path of the falling rubble, and I''m moving before I even think.

    In a heartbeat, I''m there, planting myself between them and the oncoming destruction. My hands shoot up, webbing a massive chunk of falling concrete and catching the rest with my bare hands.

    The weight is crushing, my muscles screaming in protest, but I hold firm, gritting my teeth as I protect them.

    "Go! Now!" I yell, sweat running down my face as the pressure bears down on me. The couple scrambles to their feet, fleeing as I struggle to hold the collapsing structure above my head.

    But then, I hear it¡ªa small whimper, barely audible over the chaos.

    I turn my head, just in time to see a boy¡ªno older than eight¡ªclutching his knee, blood pooling around his leg. He''s trapped, staring up at the falling debris, frozen in terror.

    My heart lurches. "No, no, no!" I shout, pushing harder against the weight. I need to save him. I have to save him. But I can''t move. If I let go, the whole thing will come crashing down.

    The rubble creaks, the sound of metal groaning as it buckles under the strain. I know I can''t hold it much longer.

    The boy looks at me, tears streaming down his face.

    "Someone, help!" I cry out, desperation clawing at my throat. "Please!"

    And then I see him. Captain Stacy. He''s running toward the boy, no hesitation in his eyes. "Get down!" he shouts, throwing himself forward, grabbing the boy and shoving him out of the way just as the rubble collapses.

    But I see it. The second Captain Stacy realizes there''s no escape for him. I can see it in his face, and I know...that I won''t be able to save him in time.

    "No!" My voice cracks, raw and broken as I watch in horror. The debris crashes down, burying Captain Stacy beneath it.

    For a moment, everything stops. The world around me falls away. I don''t hear the screams, the sirens, the chaos. All I hear is the sound of my own breath, coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

    I shove the rubble aside with all the strength I have left, rushing to where Captain Stacy was standing. The boy is safe, his eyes wide and horrified, but alive. But Captain Stacy...

    I fall to my knees beside the fallen rubble, pulling away the wreckage piece by piece until I find him.

    His body, crushed beneath the weight, his face pale, lips parted as if he was trying to say something. I can''t breathe. I can''t think.

    "Captain..."

    His eyes flutter open, barely, and he looks up at me, his breathing labored, shallow. "He..Hey.. ki...kid.." he rasps.

    I grab his hand, squeezing it tight, tears burning my eyes. "I-I''m sorry... I''m so sorry..."

    He coughs weakly, a thin trail of blood trickling from his mouth. "Listen...I just need you to...listen..."

    I shake my head, choking on my own words. "I should''ve... I should''ve done more... I should''ve¡ª"

    He squeezes my hand, the strength in his grip fading. "Peter....my Gwen... after I''m gone..." he coughs, "she''ll need someone to watch¡ªwatch out for her...she loves...you...so much..." he squeezes my hand tighter. "Be good to her....son...be good to...her.."

    "I promise." My voice cracks, the weight of the promise crushing me just as the rubble did to him. "I promise. I promise."

    And then... his hand goes limp. His chest stills.

    I scream. A raw, guttural cry that echoes through the streets, filled with all the pain, the guilt, the helplessness. My whole body shakes as I hold Captain Stacy''s lifeless body, every fiber of my being torn apart as I look at the man who gave his life... for me. For them.

    The sounds of sirens grow louder, police cars and ambulances screeching to a halt, officers rushing toward us, but it''s too late. Captain Stacy is gone.

    I sit there, holding his hand, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on me. The weight of the lives I couldn''t save.

    And the Goblin''s laughter echoes in my head.

    As I sit there, holding Captain Stacy''s hand, everything feels like it''s moving in slow motion. The sirens blur into the background as more police cars and ambulances swarm the scene. The officers who had witnessed the fight are mostly down, injured or unconscious from the explosions and debris.

    But the new ones¡ªthey didn''t see the Goblin. They didn''t see anything but me, kneeling beside their fallen captain.

    "Freeze!" a voice shouts, harsh and commanding, cutting through the chaos. I look up, my vision blurred by tears and exhaustion, and see several officers emerging from their cars, guns drawn, faces hard with suspicion and confusion.

    I stand, still gripping Captain Stacy''s hand, trying to form the words. "I-I didn''t... I couldn''t save him..."

    "Hands in the air!" another officer yells, stepping closer, his finger hovering dangerously close to the trigger.

    "I''m not... I''m not the one who did this!" I stammer, my voice cracking. "It was that man¡ªhe¡ªhe did this! I tried to¡ª"

    "On the ground, now!" one of them demands, their tone sharp and unforgiving. They''re not listening. They don''t care. All they see is Spider-Man¡ªsomeone they don''t trust, someone they think might have had a hand in this.

    I glance down at Captain Stacy one last time. His eyes are closed, his face peaceful now, as if the pain had finally left him. My chest tightens, guilt and grief threatening to pull me under.

    But I can''t stay. I can''t let the Goblin get away. Not after everything he''s done. Not with Aunt May in danger.

    "George," I whisper, my voice barely audible, "I''m sorry."

    I step back, lifting my hands slightly, as if to comply. The officers edge closer, their guns still trained on me, tension hanging thick in the air.

    And then I move.

    With a burst of speed, I leap into the air, shooting a web to the nearest building and yanking myself upward, out of their line of fire. I hear the officers shouting behind me, but I don''t stop. I can''t stop. Not now.

    I swing faster, the wind whipping against my face as I close in on the diner, my mind spinning. Aunt May. Felicia. Harry''s still back at Oscorp. The weight of it all presses down on me, but I push through. I have to.

    Then I see it. Flames, billowing up from inside the Maple Diner. My heart drops into my stomach.

    "No...no, no, no..."

    I land hard outside the diner, barely sticking the landing. The heat from the flames hits me like a wall, but I force myself to push through. I have to get to them. I have to save them.

    Inside, the chaos is overwhelming. The fire roars, devouring the booths and tables. Smoke chokes the air, and the heat is unbearable. I cough, trying to see through the thick haze. That''s when I spot her¡ªFelicia¡ªstruggling to lift a massive piece of rubble. Underneath it, Aunt May lies motionless, her eyes closed, her face pale.

    "Felicia!" I shout, rushing toward them.

    Felicia looks up, her face streaked with soot, panic in her eyes. "Parker! She''s trapped! I...I can''t¡ª"

    I drop down beside her, wrapping my arms around the rubble. "Don''t worry. Don''t worry." My voice shakes, but I push all the fear aside. I have to be strong. For her. For Aunt May.

    With a grunt, I lift the rubble, my muscles screaming in protest. Felicia pulls Aunt May free, dragging her away from the flames. My heart pounds in my ears as I strain, throwing the debris aside.

    "Parker, the man who did this is still¡ª" Felicia tries to warn me, but it''s too late.

    A flash of orange fills my vision as a bomb lands near us, already exploding before I can react. I dive, covering Felicia and Aunt May with my body as the blast tears through the diner.

    My suit burns, my skin sears from the heat and shrapnel, but I hold on, refusing to let anything happen to them.

    Pain shoots through me, but I grit my teeth. My mask is torn, my skin exposed and scorched. Felicia coughs beneath me, her eyes wide with fear.

    "Parker, your¡ª"

    Before she can finish, I feel a brutal force slam into me. My world spins as I''m hurled across the diner, crashing into the wall so hard it knocks the wind out of me.

    The Goblin''s laugh echoes through the flames, a deep, menacing sound that makes my blood run cold.

    "Peter Parker," he sneers, his voice full of cruel amusement. "All that power, and yet here you are, scrambling to save the ones you love like an insect underfoot."

    I try to stand, but before I can even get to my knees, he''s on me. His gloved fist crashes into my face, again and again, each hit sending shockwaves through my skull.

    Felicia screams from somewhere behind me, but I can''t focus, can''t do anything but take the beating. My vision blurs, blood dripping down my face.

    He lifts me by the collar, his grotesque grin inches from my face. "You disappoint me, Spider-Man. Strong enough to have it all. Too weak to take it!"

    I struggle in his grip, gasping for breath, but his hand is like iron around my throat. He leans in closer, his yellow eyes gleaming with malice. "This game? It''s only just beginning. But the next time we meet..." His smile widens, cruel and mocking. "It''ll be the last. I have no use for someone who refuses to see the potential in his power."

    With that, he drops me, my body crumpling to the floor like a rag doll. The pain is overwhelming, but through it all, I hear the roar of his glider as he leaps onto it, laughing maniacally.

    He blasts a hole through the wall of the diner, flames erupting around him as he flies off into the night.

    I lie there, gasping for breath, barely able to move. My body feels like it''s been shattered into a thousand pieces, and my mind is spinning, lost in the chaos. The fire, the fight, the Goblin''s taunts¡ªthey all blur together. Then I hear Felicia''s voice, desperate, trembling.

    "Peter? Peter, can you... can you hear me? Please, get up. Please don''t die." She says, attempting to lift me.

    I cough, tasting blood in my mouth, my throat burning. "Not... me," I manage to croak, my voice barely above a whisper. "We have to get... May. We have to get her... out."

    Felicia''s eyes well with tears, but she nods, swallowing her fear. "O-Okay, okay, I''ll help you both, just..." She reaches again to help me up, but I push her hand away, my muscles screaming in protest.

    "No," I rasp, my voice firm. "Help May. Get her out."

    Felicia looks at me for a moment, her eyes full of hesitation. I can see the urge to argue, to say I''m too hurt to keep going. But there''s no time, and she knows it. Finally, she nods, turning toward Aunt May, struggling to lift her body.

    Everything in me is telling me to stop, to just lie there, to give in to the pain, to let it all fade away. But I can''t. Not when May is still in danger. I drag myself to my feet, my entire body trembling, every step agony. Somehow, I make it to Felicia, and together we lift Aunt May, carrying her out of the burning diner.

    As we step into the cool night air, I collapse onto the street, after barely managing to lay May down gently. The police haven''t arrived yet, the streets eerily silent except for the crackle of flames behind us.

    Felicia rushes to me as I struggle to keep upright, her voice frantic. "Peter, who... who was that? What''s happening?"

    I look at her, my mind racing. She''s asking for answers I don''t want to give. Answers I barely have the strength to face myself. The Goblin... I know who he is. I didn''t want to believe it...I couldn''t...but now... now I''m certain.

    It''s Norman Osborn.

    "Felicia," I whisper, my voice hoarse. "Stay with May... I-I have to go."

    Felicia''s grip tightens on my arm, her eyes full of fear and frustration. "No, you''re not going anywhere. Look at you! How long do you think you can keep doing this? How many more times before¡ª" Her voice cracks. "Before you get yourself killed?"

    Her words hit me harder than any of the Goblin''s blows. She''s right. How long can I keep doing this? How many more times can I survive? I fall to my knees, the weight of everything crashing down on me at once. The tears come, hot and relentless.

    For Harry.

    For Gwen, who will soon know the same grief I''ve lived with for so long.

    For May, for Captain Stacy, for every person I''ve failed.

    I''m not enough. I''ve never been enough.

    Felicia kneels beside me, her arms wrapping around me as I break down. She doesn''t say anything, just holds me as I cry. The sobs tear through me, deep and raw, the weight of all my failures crashing down like an avalanche.

    The wail of sirens grows louder, and I wipe my face, trying to pull myself together. "I-I have to go. Please, keep her safe," I say, standing shakily.

    Felicia looks up at me, her hand catching mine. "Peter, you''re not alone." Her voice is soft but firm.

    I don''t respond. I can''t. Instead, I turn away and swing off into the night, every movement a reminder of the wounds I''ve suffered, both inside and out.

    I make my way back to Oscorp, landing on the roof with a heavy thud. The scene below is chaos¡ªparamedics loading people into ambulances, bodies covered by white sheets being zipped into body bags. The weight of it all presses down on my chest like a vice.

    One of those body bags...is holding the body of George Stacy.

    I see Harry, being led to an ambulance by a pair of officers. His face is blank, empty. My heart clenches as I watch him, knowing I failed him too.

    I couldn''t stop the Goblin.

    I swing away again, trying to shake the image of the body bags, of Harry''s vacant stare. But it''s no use. It all follows me, haunting me, no matter how fast I try to escape.

    I land on a rooftop across from George Stacy''s house. It''s quiet, too quiet, like the world is holding its breath. I sit there for a while, letting the stillness wash over me, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the chaos I bring won''t touch this place.

    But then I see the car pull up, a police cruiser. My heart sinks, already knowing what''s about to happen. The officer steps out, slowly walking up to the front door. He takes off his hat as Gwen opens the door, her face confused.

    Then I hear it.

    Her scream.

    It cuts through the night, raw and filled with a pain so deep it shakes me to my core. Her mother rushes to her side, and soon she''s crying too, both of them collapsing into each other as the officer delivers the news that will change their lives forever.

    I sit there, frozen, watching the two women break apart in front of me, and all I can do is watch.

    George asked me to take care of her, to be good to her. I wish I would''ve told him...told him I love her, that I''d cherish her forever.

    But how can I? How can I love her, when I know the truth?

    If she ever finds out that her father died because of me... what then?

    The weight of it all crushes me as I sit there, unable to move, unable to speak. Just watching the devastation that I''ve caused.

    And knowing, deep down, that nothing will ever be the same again.

 In The Wake Of Despair

    The hospital room is quiet, save for the soft beeping of machines monitoring Aunt May''s fragile state. The doctor''s words still echo in my mind, as if I''m stuck in a loop.

    "The debris hit her on the center of the skull. It''s hard to say when she''ll wake up."

    I sit in the stiff chair next to her bed, staring at her motionless form. Her face is bruised, her body battered, and her breath so shallow it barely moves the blanket covering her chest. Her hand, cold in mine, feels too small, too delicate.

    "I''m sorry," I whisper, my voice cracking. Tears well up, but I fight them back. I should have been there. I should''ve protected her.

    The doctor had tried to reassure me, but nothing she said could fix this. No insurance. Even in a moment like this, I can''t escape the crushing reality of everything falling apart. The medical bills, the restaurant destroyed... it''s all suffocating. I grip May''s hand tighter, as if that could stop her from slipping away.

    Felicia lied to the cops to cover for me, told them we were all victims of the explosion, just like everyone else. I should feel relieved, but I can''t stop thinking about what she''s risking by keeping my secret. What we''re all risking.

    Then the door creaks open, and I turn to see Harry standing there. He looks worse than I''ve ever seen him¡ªpale, gaunt, his eyes bloodshot. He takes a hesitant step forward, and before I can say anything, he''s wrapping his arms around me, pulling me into a hug.

    "I''m so sorry," Harry whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I''m so sorry, Peter."

    I don''t know what to say. I can feel his body trembling, his tears soaking into my shoulder, and for a second, I let myself lean into the hug, closing my eyes. I don''t blame Harry, but he must know. He must know who''s responsible.

    "It''s not your fault," I finally manage, pulling away. "Don''t worry."

    He looks at me, guilt and pain etched into his face. His voice wavers. "What did the doctors say?"

    "She''s in a coma. They don''t know when she''ll wake up." I feel the words weigh down on me, heavy and suffocating, and Harry looks away, his guilt deepening.

    It was his father. Norman did this.

    "And Felicia?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

    "She''s fine," I say, though my heart clenches thinking about her back at the destroyed restaurant, trying to salvage what she can. "She''s cleaning what she can at the restaurant, I told her not to worry about it, but you know how stubborn she is."

    Harry nods, offering a weak chuckle. "Maybe... I think you know her better than I ever did." His smile fades, and his expression turns serious again. "And Gwen?"

    The mention of her name feels like a punch to the gut. I haven''t spoken to Gwen since... since Captain Stacy. The memory of her scream when she learned about her father''s death claws at my chest. "I haven''t seen her yet. I don''t know if I can, not like this. I don''t want to... I don''t want to be a reminder."

    Harry''s eyes soften. "She needs you, Pete. You and I both know what it''s like to lose someone. You don''t have to go through it alone, and neither does she." He pauses, his voice quieter. "Go to her. I''ll stay here with May."

    I stand, my legs heavy, unsure of what I''m walking toward or if I even have the strength to face Gwen. Harry grabs my arm, his grip tight, almost desperate. "Peter... I really am sorry. For everything."

    I force a small smile, trying to give him some comfort. "It''s not your fault, Harry."

    As I reach for the door, Harry speaks up. "Hey... you ever think about why that....monster...went after your aunt''s place? Out of all the places it could''ve hit..."

    My hand pauses on the doorknob. I glance back at him, meeting his eyes for a second. "Yeah... I''ve thought about it. Doesn''t make sense."

    He gives a small, strained smile. "No... it doesn''t."

    I nod, feeling the weight of something unsaid hanging between us.

    But as I turn to leave, I catch the look in his eyes¡ªthe guilt, the weight of his father''s sins pressing down on him. It''s not your fault, but it''s mine.

    I knew Norman was dangerous, but I waited too long. I didn''t realize who the madman was until it was too late. And now, May''s in a hospital bed, Gwen''s life is shattered, and Harry... Harry is spiraling down a path I might not be able to pull him back from.

    I step out into the hallway, the air feeling colder, heavier. Every step I take feels like I''m walking deeper into something I can''t control.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The walk to Gwen''s house feels longer than it should. Each step drags up the same image¡ªthe moment Captain Stacy''s body went limp in my arms, the way his eyes just... let go. It''s stuck on repeat in my head, like a bad dream I can''t wake up from.

    When I get to her door, I raise my hand to knock, but I hesitate. What am I supposed to say? How can I even face her? This is my fault. I shouldn''t be the one here trying to make her feel better.

    But this isn''t about me. Gwen needs me. She needs Peter Parker.

    I knock, glancing down at my shoes, hoping¡ªpraying¡ªthat she won''t tell me to leave.

    The door opens, and there she is.

    "Peter," Gwen says, her voice soft and cracked, her eyes red and puffy. "I''m... I''m so glad you''re here."

    Before she can say anything else, I pull her into a hug. She holds on tight, and I bury my face into her shoulder, feeling her tremble.

    "I''m here," I tell her quietly. "I''m not going anywhere, Gwen. I promise."

    She pulls back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and notices the bruises on my face. "You''re hurt again. I heard about the explosion at the¡ª"

    "We don''t have to talk about that." I shake my head, trying to steer the conversation away. "How about we...go for a walk, okay?"

    She forces a small smile, even though I can tell she''s barely holding it together. "Okay. I''ll grab my shoes."

    As I stand there waiting, my mind goes back to the last time I was here, just hours before everything went wrong. Captain Stacy was right there, laughing. Now... he''s gone. And no matter how hard I try, I can''t change that.

    Gwen comes back, slipping her hand into mine, and we start walking down the quiet street. Neither of us says much. We don''t need to. Just being here, together, is enough for now.

    We reach the park, the same one we used to hang out at as kids. Gwen stops, staring at the swings.

    "When''s the last time you went on the swings?" she asks suddenly.

    I rub the back of my neck, thinking. "Uh, probably back when I broke my arm in fifth grade trying to do a jump."

    She laughs softly, though it''s more out of habit than anything. "Well, this time I''ll be here to catch you."This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    She heads over to the swings and sits down, giving herself a small push. I sit on the swing next to her, watching her legs kick forward, then back, like we''re kids again. She''s quiet for a while, just swinging, and I let her have that moment.

    Eventually, she slows to a stop and looks over at me. "Do you remember when we used to come here after school? Playing demons and angels?"

    I grin. "Yeah. Weirdest game ever. Who came up with that?"

    "Mary Jane," she says, her voice distant. "It was so easy back then. School, games, my dad picking me up after, blasting some random music. He loved his oldies... I used to hate it."

    I grip the chains of the swing, feeling the tension in the air shift.

    Gwen''s gaze drops to the ground. "I got so mad at him once. I was thirteen, and he wouldn''t let me go to this party. He wanted to go on our usual family trip, but I got tired of it. I said some pretty horrible things to him. In the end, only my mom and brother went on the trip, and he stayed home with me... just so I could go. I don''t think I even thanked him."

    I don''t know what to say. I want to fix this for her, but I can''t. So I just listen.

    "He was always doing stuff like that for me," she continues, her voice shaky. "Why didn''t I tell him I loved him more? Why didn''t I say thank you? Why didn''t I..." She looks at me, her eyes full of guilt and regret. "Why didn''t I tell him, Peter?"

    I swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "Gwen, your dad... he knew. He knew how much you loved him. He didn''t need to hear it. He just... he knew."

    She looks away, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Yeah... I guess."

    I reach over, taking her hand again. We sit there, the swings creaking lightly in the breeze, and even though I can''t fix this for her, I can be here. That''s all I can do right now. Be here.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Gwen and I sit on the couch, her head resting against my shoulder as she sleeps. We''d been watching Back to the Future¡ªher comfort movie. Somehow, it always knocked her out. She looks peaceful, curled up beside me, and for a moment, I let myself believe that with me, she feels safe.

    Safe. I wonder if that''s what I am to her. Can I even be that? After everything, I''m not sure.

    My phone buzzes. It''s Harry, letting me know he''s staying over with Aunt May. He feels guilty, even though I''ve told him over and over it''s not his fault. His dad made his own choices. But I get it.

    I think of Felicia, probably back at our place by now. I feel bad leaving her there alone, but she''d want the space, knowing her.

    The sound of footsteps pulls me from my thoughts. I look up to see Gwen''s little brother, Arthur, walking into the room. No game in sight, which is rare. He plops down on the other couch, staring at the TV.

    "What happened to your face?" he asks, his voice flat.

    "Uh... just an explosion," I say, then realize how insane that sounds. "I mean, gas leak. At the restaurant. It was no big deal."

    He nods, like he''s barely listening, his eyes flicking to his sister. "She talks about you all the time, you know."

    I feel my face heat up as I look down at Gwen.

    "It''s annoying," Arthur adds, then shrugs. "But... I guess it''s good. You''re her first boyfriend, right? So, at least now you can take care of her... now that..."

    He trails off, and I feel my chest tighten. Her first boyfriend? Me?

    Before I can get caught up in that, I notice the way his face shifts. He looks conflicted, like he''s trying to figure out how to keep going with what he wants to say. This is the longest we''ve ever talked.

    Arthur stares at the TV, his voice quieter. "I used to wanna be a cop like my dad. Thought it''d be cool, saving people. But... it''s not cool to leave your family behind."

    I open my mouth, then close it. I can tell he''s been holding this in for a while.

    "Your dad¡ª" I start.

    "I know," he cuts me off, his voice sharp. "He was a hero, right? Everyone says it. But that doesn''t change anything."

    I frown, and the ache in my chest deepens. I know exactly what he''s feeling. I''ve been there. "When I lost my uncle... I didn''t care what anyone said about how good he was. People would say they were sorry, tell me he was a great guy, but all I wanted was for him to come back. No one could fix that."

    Arthur turns to me, his eyes wet but focused. For a second, he lets his guard down.

    "I get it," I tell him. "It''s not about all the things he did right. It''s just... wanting him here."

    He quickly looks away, wiping his face, trying to hide the tears. We sit in silence for a moment, the movie playing in the background. Then, his voice breaks through again, softer this time.

    "What is this movie, anyway?"

    I laugh, relieved to see him relax a little. "Seriously? You''ve never seen Back to the Future?"

    He shrugs, and I shake my head. "Alright, we''re fixing that. You''re watching the whole trilogy with me and Gwen next time."

    For now, if there''s anything I can do to make it up to Captain Stacy, it''s at least being here for the ones he''s left behind.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    It''s the middle of the night, and I''m watching Gwen sleep. I wish I could stay, that sitting here with her would somehow make everything right. But I can''t. Not with Norman still out there, not when everyone I care about is at risk because of me.

    I stand quietly, leaving a note by her side. There''s something I need to take care of. I''ll be back soon. I know it''ll hurt her, but maybe keeping a little distance is for the best right now.

    Swinging through the city, every pull on the web sends a jolt through my aching body. Norman hit harder than I expected. Could I have done something different? Could I have saved Captain Stacy? I push the thoughts away as I land on the edge of Oscorp, still half-destroyed from the explosions. No time for doubts.

    I slip in through a broken window, crawling along the ceiling through the dark, empty halls. No workers, no security. Too quiet.

    I spot the camera near the room I need, tucked in the corner. Reaching into my belt, I pull out the EMP device, a smaller version of the one I used on the Vulture. It''s not as strong, but it should do the job. I aim it at the camera, and the red light flickers off. Not long before it comes back online.

    I drop to the floor and head for the door. Of course, it''s locked. Some fancy keypad stares back at me. "What would a mad scientist pick for a passcode, ''666''?" I mutter. Not like I have time to guess. I grip the handle, bending the metal just enough to force the door open with a loud crack.

    The light spills into the room, and... it''s empty.

    I step inside, and my heart sinks. I start pulling open drawers, flipping through empty folders. "Come on," I mutter under my breath. There has to be something. I toss papers aside, but there''s nothing useful¡ªno files on Project Reinvention, no reports on the Scorpion suit or the Rhino. No mention of Doctor Connors.

    Frustration boils up inside me as I tear through file cabinets, scanning for anything. Every folder is empty, every document irrelevant. I grab a stack of files, scattering them across the floor, my pulse rising. "Damn it!" Norman wiped it all. He covered his tracks completely.

    I slam a fist into the wall, cracking it, but it doesn''t make me feel any better. Norman''s out there, playing the victim, making the world think he''s helpless. But I know the truth. He''s not a victim¡ªhe''s the one pulling the strings, hiding in plain sight while his monsters tore the city apart.

    I take a breath, forcing myself to calm down. The room might be empty, but I''ll find him. No matter what it takes, I''m going to make him pay for everything.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I sit on top of the Chrysler Building, my mask in my lap, staring out at the city. The wind is cold, but I barely feel it. All I can think about is everything that''s happened, everything I''ve done¡ªor failed to do. It feels like the weight of the world is crushing me, but then again, that''s the job, right?

    Captain Stacy''s face keeps coming back to me. That moment... when I knew he was gone. I can still feel it. I was holding him, and he just... let go. I was supposed to protect him. I was there, but somehow, it still wasn''t enough. All these powers, and people still die around me. And if that keeps happening, then... what''s the point?

    I think about Max Dillon, Electro, how things spiraled so fast. He just wanted to be noticed, and I¡ªSpider-Man¡ªwas part of what pushed him over the edge. And all those people in the diner... I didn''t mean to. I didn''t mean for any of them to die. But they did, because of something I was a part of. What happens if one day, I make a mistake like that? If something I do costs even more lives? Could I even live with myself?

    I''m always careful, but that doesn''t mean people haven''t gotten hurt. I can''t shake the thought that one day it''ll be me leaving someone like Gwen behind. If being Spider-Man means that, is it really worth it?

    I rub my face, tired, feeling more than just the ache of bruises. I look down at the streets below, but they don''t bring any comfort tonight. Just more questions.

    Then I notice a screen nearby, flashing with a news report. Great. Jameson. He''s running another piece on me, talking about "Spider-Man''s latest failure." I sigh, already expecting the usual garbage. There''s a picture on the screen, and I think to myself, I could''ve taken a better shot.

    He''s going on about the latest attack¡ªabout the man who he''s calling the "Green Goblin". My chest tightens. And then he says it. Captain Stacy''s name. Along with all the others who died in that fight. My heart sinks, but I force myself to keep watching.

    Jameson says they''re about to show footage from the scene. My stomach twists as I watch the screen, not sure what I''m expecting to see. The video plays, and at first, I think it''s just me fighting the Goblin. But then... I see something else.

    I''m holding Captain Stacy¡ªno. Not me. It''s someone who looks like me, holding him by the throat. And then... I watch as they snap his neck.

    I stand up, my heart racing. What the hell? That''s not possible. That''s not me. This never happened¡ªbut it looks so real. Too real.

    Jonah''s voice cuts through the noise in my head. "There you have it, folks. Irrefutable proof that Spider-Man is every bit the menace we''ve always believed him to be."

    And then he drops another name. Quentin Beck. The guy who "captured" this footage. Apparently a victim of the Goblin''s bombings that night.

    I check my phone, and it''s blowing up. The video''s gone viral, spreading like wildfire. People are already commenting¡ª"I thought he was a hero," "I always knew Spider-Man was a fake," "How could they let him get away with this?"

    My stomach churns. This isn''t real. It can''t be real. But that doesn''t matter, because people will believe it.

    I get a message from Harry: Pete, have you seen the news about Spider-Man?

    Then Felicia: What''s going on?

    I don''t know what to say to either of them. I don''t know what to do. But I know one thing: Norman Osborn is behind this. He has to be.

 The Menace Formally Known As Spider-Man

    Gwen didn''t show up for school today.

    I guess I shouldn''t be surprised, not with everything going on. But part of me was still hoping she''d be here, sitting next to me in bio, or bumping into me in the hall like usual. She hasn''t texted me either, and for some reason, I''ve been too anxious to reach out to her. I don''t know if it''s because of the guilt, or because I''m too much of a coward.

    And Harry, I had no idea if he was still using those pills. Or when he''d decide to come back to school either. There is so much to do, so many people I have to attend to but I find myself without any time at all. Although this wasn''t even my most pressing matter at the moment.

    After the video of "Spider-Man" supposedly killing Captain Stacy went viral, the whole internet went crazy. Any support I had before? Gone. People who might''ve defended Spider-Man? Silent now. The city doesn''t believe in me anymore. And maybe... I don''t believe in me either.

    I didn''t kill him. I know that. But I sure as hell didn''t save him either.

    The hallways are packed with kids talking, laughing, and going about their day, but it''s like every whisper I hear is about me. About Spider-Man. About the murder. Of course, they don''t know it''s me, but that doesn''t stop me from feeling exposed, like any second someone''s going to figure it out. For all the good I''ve tried to do, all it''s ever amounted to is broken bones, and now, everyone hates my guts.

    "Peter," a soft voice calls from behind me. I turn, and it''s Felicia. I haven''t replied to any of her texts¡ªor anyone''s, really¡ªbut I wasn''t sure what she thought of me now. Her face doesn''t give much away.

    "Felicia," I manage, my hands clammy as I wipe them against my jeans. "I didn''t kill him¡ªI didn''t kill Captain Stacy. I swear."

    She nods, her expression calm. "I know, Parker." Her words are blunt, but it feels like a massive weight lifts off my shoulders.

    I can''t help but breathe a little easier. "Thanks."

    Felicia glances around to make sure no one''s paying attention, then steps closer. "Look, I know things are... really bad right now. But I know you. You''re that dorky guy who swings around the city, punching animal-themed idiots. You''re a lot of things¡ªawkward, naive, maybe a little stupid¡ªbut you''re not a killer."

    I blink, and despite everything, I almost laugh. "Thanks?"

    "I''m serious, Parker." She leans in, lowering her voice. "I''ve been looking into that guy. The one who came forward with the video¡ªQuentin Beck."

    "What? You''ve been looking into him? Why?" I say, alarmed. "That''s dangerous, Felicia! He could be working with¡ª"

    "I was just trying to help¡ª"

    "No!" I cut her off, and for a second, she looks caught off guard. Then her expression hardens, that icy calm settling back in place. "No, you can''t get involved. It''s too dangerous. I don''t want anyone else caught in this."

    Felicia narrows her eyes, her voice steady but a little cold. "I get it. You''re scared, and you don''t want me in harm''s way. But, Parker, this isn''t¡ª"

    "I''m not scared for me, Felicia," I interrupt, shaking my head. "I''m scared for you.... Norman...He already came after you. After May. I can''t let that happen again. I won''t."

    Felicia stares at me for a long second, her expression unreadable. Then she lets out a breath. "Alright. Fine. You win. But at least let me tell you what I found."

    I rub my temples, feeling the tension creep up the back of my neck. "Okay, fine. What did you find?"

    She pulls out some folded papers and screenshots, mostly articles and old documents. "Beck wasn''t just some random guy who happened to be there with a camera," she says, pointing to a segment of one of the articles. "He was working on some kind of breakthrough holographic technology at Oscorp. Top-secret stuff."

    I freeze, scanning the papers. "Holograms?"

    Felicia nods. "Yeah. The article doesn''t say much more than that, though. Just that it''s supposed to be revolutionary." She pauses, meeting my eyes. "But it can''t be a coincidence, Peter. Not with that video."

    I stare down at the paper, my mind racing. Holographic tech... Beck worked for Osborn... Suddenly, the pieces start to click. "If he''s using holograms," I mutter, "then that video... It''s not real. It''s a fake. Beck could''ve made it look like I was the one who¡ª"

    "Exactly," Felicia says, cutting in, her voice low but urgent. "I don''t have proof yet, but it''s the only thing that makes sense."

    I look back at her, feeling a weight settle in my chest. "Thank you, Felicia. For doing all this. But... why?" I ask, frowning. "Why would you go through all this trouble for me?"

    Felicia''s lips curl into a sly smile, and she shrugs. "What are friends for, Parker?"

    Before I can say anything else, the bell rings, cutting through the tense silence. She winks at me and disappears into the crowd of students, leaving me standing there, still holding the papers. My heart''s pounding, and suddenly, I''m not sure what''s worse¡ªthat someone''s framing me, or that the Goblin is still out there plotting on how next he can ruin my life.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Halfway through my Algebra class, the door opens, and in walks Gwen Stacy. For a minute I''m not sure if I''m hallucinating or not, but as her eyes reach mine, and she smiles that Gwen Stacy smile. I''m sure it''s really her.

    "Hi, Mr. Harrington. Here''s my note." She says, handing him a piece of paper, which he awkwardly grabs.

    "A-Ah, no worries, Ms. Stacy." He says, crumbling up the piece of paper. "Please, take your seat." He smiles, and she nods.

    The rest of the class stare at her, a few of them whispering, but she just avoids all their stares, keeping her focus on me as she takes her seat, opening her bag and putting her notebooks on her desk.

    I should say something, why haven''t I yet? Why didn''t I run up to her and hug her?

    Because that would be weird.

    Should I tell her I''m sorry? Should I ask her how she''s doing? What if she doesn''t want pity, and gets annoyed at me?

    What if I¡ª

    "Peter," Gwen whispers as Mr. Harrington continues his lecture. "I-I''m sorry I never texted. Last night was..."

    I''m sure she''s referring to the video. What do I even say about that? How can I say anything? Such a horrible video of your father going around, I can''t imagine the pain, the confusion she must be feeling.

    "Don''t apologize. Okay?" I say with a smile. "I should''ve...I should''ve texted you. I just..."

    Gwen frowns a bit. "No, no. It''s okay. I know you have your own things going on. And, I was going to stop by and see May later on today. If that''s okay with you? I kinda...don''t wanna be home."

    I nod, "it''s not a problem. We''ll go together." I smile, and she gives me a half hearted attempt at one.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I sit awkwardly as Gwen is surrounded by her friends. There are a lot more of them than I realized. They''re all huddled around her, offering apologies¡ªsome with tears in their eyes, others pulling her into tight hugs. I watch from the sidelines, feeling like I don''t quite belong here. Beside me, Flash Thompson stands with his hands shoved into his pockets, looking about as out of place as I feel.

    He glances at me, then clears his throat. "Hey... uh... I heard what happened with your Aunt. I''m sorry, man. Really."

    I nod. "Yeah, thanks."

    He shifts awkwardly, frowning as he looks away. "Look, I know I haven''t always..." He stops, chewing over his words. "I know I''ve been an asshole. No real excuse for that. But what happened, with you and Gwen¡ªit''s tragic. And May... May''s always been a good person. Same with Captain Stacy."Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    "He was," I murmur, the memories of both of them hitting harder than I expected.

    Flash pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and unfolds it. It''s an Algebra test, the letter "C" circled in red at the top. "This¡ªthis is because of you, Parker. So, uh... thanks."

    I blink at him, surprised. For the first time in... well, ever, it feels like there''s been some kind of shift between us. Since elementary school, Flash has always had it out for me. He never gave me a reason, never explained why. The teasing started small, then came the shoving, the relentless bullying. That''s just how it''s always been between us. Until now, I guess.

    Part of me wants to shrug off his apology, dismiss it. Does that make me a bad person? But the other part of me¡ªthe bigger part¡ªrealizes he''s trying. He''s making an effort. So I should, too. "No, Eugene," I say, nodding to the test in his hands. "I can teach you all day, but that''s your name at the top of that paper, not mine."

    He snorts. "Eugene, huh? Haven''t heard that in a while."

    I smile, glancing over at Gwen still with her friends. "I think it suits you."

    Before he can fire back, Gwen walks up to me, a warm smile lighting her face. "Sorry about that," she says. "They wanted to go to the Burger Shack, but I told them I was spending the day with you."

    My heart stumbles a little in my chest. She ditched her friends... for me? Being a boyfriend is awesome.

    "Let me know if you ever need anything, Gwen. You too, Parker," Flash says, giving Gwen a half hug before nodding at me and vanishing into the crowd of students leaving the building.

    As most of the students head out, Gwen suddenly grabs me, pulling me into a tight hug. Her face presses against my chest, and I feel her hands grip my back like she''s afraid to let go. "Gwen?" I whisper, confused.

    She doesn''t answer, but I can feel the wetness of her tears soaking through my shirt. She''s crying, and the weight of everything she''s been holding in finally spills out. I rest my cheek on top of her head, holding her as close as I can. Letting her know, without saying a word, that as long as I''m here, she''ll never have to face any of this alone.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I sit quietly in the hospital room, Gwen leaning against my shoulder. She feels small and warm beside me, her fingers loosely linked with mine. For a moment, there''s nothing else¡ªjust us, the faint hum of the hospital monitors, and the soft, steady beep from Aunt May''s heart monitor. It keeps me grounded, but there''s a twist of anxiety every time it reminds me how fragile this all is.

    What if it stops?

    "Peter?" Gwen''s voice breaks through my thoughts.

    "Yeah?" I whisper, looking down at her. Her blue eyes, as bright as ever, meet mine, filled with kindness that I''m not sure I deserve. What does she see in me right now? Does she see how messed up I am? Can she see the guilt that feels like it''s burning through my skin?

    "Do... do you think that all these bad things that keep happening...do you think there''s a reason for it?" she asks softly.

    The question catches me off guard. "I-I don''t know," I say, which feels like the worst answer I could have given.

    She frowns a little, like she''s disappointed. "It just feels like... every time we turn around, something''s threatening us, or someone''s hurt. It can''t just be coincidence, right? Maybe we''re... cursed, or something. Bad luck just follows us everywhere."

    Yeah. Bad luck¡ªand its name is Peter Parker.

    All of it comes rushing back. Doctor Connors, a man I could''ve helped, who ended up killing people because I failed him. Mac Gargan, who got away from me and almost killed Harry and Felicia. The Rhino tearing through the city because I was just a few seconds too slow. The Vulture at Oscorp, the massacre my classmates saw. Electro... a guy who I could''ve helped if I''d just paid attention.

    And all the people I love¡ªFelicia, Harry, Aunt May, Gwen. Captain Stacy.

    How many times have I let them get hurt just by being near me? How many people have suffered because I decided to be Spider-Man?

    Is this why I wear the mask? To drag my loved ones through hell? To fail everyone around me? To fail Uncle Ben''s memory?

    Goblin''s still out there, and I don''t know why he hates me or how far he''s willing to go to prove it.

    I fail.

    I fail.

    I fail.

    "Peter," Gwen says, her voice gentle, then presses her lips against mine. The kiss is soft, lingering just a second, but it pulls me back from the edge. She gazes up at me, her eyes soft but sharp. "You''ve never been good at taking a compliment, so listen up: You''re okay. You are enough. And not everything that goes wrong is Peter Parker''s fault. For some reason, you always have this look on your face like you''re carrying everyone''s problems around on your shoulders, but you don''t have to."

    "Gwen, I¡ª"

    "I''m not done," she says, cutting me off with a small smile. "Maybe we''re cursed. Maybe it''s bad luck. But through it all, you''re still here." She glances over at May''s bed, then back at me. "And so am I. I know you feel guilty about everything. But please, don''t."

    I want to say something¡ªto tell her how grateful I am, how I wish I could open up and tell her the truth about everything. But then there''s that look on her face. She''s been through enough. So how can I tell her now?

    Especially since she probably thinks Spider-Man killed her father...

    I''m about to say something when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Gwen raises an eyebrow, curious as I pull it out. It''s a message from Felicia, an address, followed by another message:

    Found Beck''s home address. This took a while, but I guess knowing the wrong people can help sometimes. I know you told me to stay out of it, but I owe you. Do what you want with this.

    I stare at the message, feeling Gwen''s eyes on me as I process it. My brain scrambles, piecing together an excuse. "Is something wrong?" she asks.

    "No, just..." I falter, the lie tangling on my tongue. I don''t want to do this. But what choice do I have? "Felicia needs help taking some photos for the insurance company. It''ll be quick, I promise."

    Gwen nods, smiling. "Okay, I''ll get my things, and we can¡ª"

    "No," I say quickly, probably too quickly. "It''s fine. Just a quick thing. I''ll be back in no time, and then we can do that Star Trek marathon?"

    She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Alright. But don''t keep me waiting too long, Mr. Parker."

    I pull her into a hug, holding her close, trying to absorb her warmth, hoping it''ll stay with me for whatever''s next. I don''t want to leave her side. This is all I want. But life... life doesn''t always care about what we want.

    I let go, taking one last look at her. "I''ll see you soon."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Swinging through the city used to feel like freedom. Like I was untouchable, soaring between buildings, leaving everything that sucked behind. The wind in my face, the hum of traffic below¡ªall of it used to be my escape. Now, I''m just... here. Going through the motions.

    I reach the address Felicia texted me and check my phone one last time to be sure. Right place. I toss the phone in my backpack, webbing it to the wall. It''s late, and the street below is empty, so no one notices Spider-Man gearing up for a bit of B&E.

    The plan is... what, exactly? Politely ask Beck to remove the damning video that made everyone think Spider-Man killed Gwen''s dad? Yeah, right. But this is all I''ve got to clear my name, so I''m going with it. Felicia''s research made Beck look plenty suspicious, but I still have to be sure.

    I crawl up to his window. The lights are off; doesn''t look like anyone''s home. Great. Now I''m a burglar.

    The window is locked, but a little pressure opens it with a quiet pop, and I slip inside. The smell hits me first¡ªstale, rotten, like garbage left out too long. I take a step and feel something squish underfoot.

    Nope. I don''t even want to know.

    The place is a wreck: clothes scattered everywhere, dishes stacked up on the floor and dresser, junk piled up in the corners. Still, somehow, it''s cleaner than Harry''s room.

    Moving quietly, I start my search. A desk by the wall, drawers stuffed with paperwork and odd electronics. Some of it might be useful, but it''s all mixed in with junk¡ªbroken remotes, tangled cables, half-eaten bags of chips. After a few minutes of sifting, I pause. In the silence, a faint sound drifts from down the hall, like someone moving toward the room.

    I tense, glancing around for cover. Quietly, I crawl up to the ceiling, tucking myself into the shadows near the corner. I watch as the door creaks open, and a figure in all black slips into the room, making a beeline for the computer on the desk.

    They''re fast, moving with a purpose. They settle in front of the computer, pulling a small drive from their pocket and plugging it in. I watch as they type, a few files popping up on the screen as they begin downloading them onto the drive. Whoever this is, they''re definitely not here to straighten up the place.

    The figure finishes the download and starts to turn. In the dim light, I finally get a good look at their face.

    Felicia.

    For a second, I''m too stunned to move. What''s she doing here?

    As she slips the drive into her pocket, her eyes sweep the room¡ªthen pause as she looks up. Our eyes lock. Caught in the act, I drop from the ceiling, landing silently behind her, arms crossed.

    "Felicia." I keep my voice low, but she can''t miss the tone. "Breaking and entering? Really?"

    She smirks, slipping the drive deeper into her pocket. "But if I were wearing spandex and had a stupid name then it''d be okay?"

    She''s got me there. I sigh, glancing at the computer screen. "What are you doing here?"

    "Helping you," she says, crossing her arms. "Whether you like it or not."

    "I told you to stay out of this." I keep my voice low, but there''s a hard edge to it. Felicia just rolls her eyes, arms crossed. "I''m serious, Felicia. People have gotten hurt... even died... getting involved in this stuff. And I won''t¡ªI can''t let that happen again."

    Her expression softens, her gaze holding mine. "For all your strength, Parker, you don''t have to handle everything alone. You don''t."

    I open my mouth to respond, but a sudden beep from the computer interrupts us. A face appears on the screen¡ªa man with slicked-back hair, staring directly into the camera with a smug grin. "Ah, okay, here we go. Can you both hear me?"

    Felicia and I exchange wary glances before turning back to the screen.

    "I''ll take that as a yes," he says with a chuckle. "Mr. Osborn was right¡ªyou''re quick to respond, Spider-Man. Though, I wasn''t expecting a plus one," he adds, raising an eyebrow at Felicia. "But no matter."

    "You''re... Quentin Beck, aren''t you?" I say, clenching my fists. "You made that fake video of me. Because of you, everyone thinks Spider-Man killed Captain Stacy."

    He just smiles, folding his hands with deliberate calm. "Reality is whatever I want it to be. You see, once my breakthrough technology is funded, everyone will know my name. And all it took was a little creative editing." He laughs, the sound cold and sharp. "It''s amazing, isn''t it? How fast they turned on you? The hero who saved them over and over."

    My fists tighten. "I''ll make sure everyone knows the truth. I''ll expose what you did. You won''t¡ª"

    "Get away with it?" Beck finishes for me, sneering. "Yeah, yeah. You''re so cliche you know that? Anyways, I have a job to do, and my employer? Not exactly the patient type."

    I narrow my eyes. "Employer? You mean Norman Osborn, don''t you?"

    Beck smirks, leaning back as if savoring the moment. "Questions, questions... It doesn''t matter anymore, you don''t have to worry about a thing." He raises his hand toward the screen, eyes gleaming with malice. "Now... say cheese."

    With a snap of his fingers, everything goes black

 Who Are You?

    "Peter? Wake up, we''re here already."

    I blink my eyes open, slowly adjusting to the sight of the towering Oscorp building ahead. Uncle Ben''s voice is soft but steady, and there''s a warmth in his smile as he reaches over to give my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

    "Sorry, I just... had a really bad dream," I mumble, my hand instinctively going to the hard drive nestled beside me.

    Ben chuckles, his eyes crinkling. "No need to be nervous, kid. You worked real hard to get here, and I''m proud of you. So is May, for that matter."

    "Yeah, I know you''re right." I say, though something about it all feels strangely light, like I''m floating. "You''re right. I just..."

    "Just nothing." He gives me a solid thumbs-up. "You earned this. Fair and square. Now go in there and show everyone why you''re my favorite nephew."

    I manage a smile. "I''m your only nephew."

    "Details, details," he laughs softly, getting out of the car.

    As I step out, still gripping the hard drive, I feel the sun''s warmth, brighter than usual, almost too bright. The air smells sweet, like cotton candy, which doesn''t make sense in front of Oscorp. But I shake it off, too caught up in the moment to worry about the details.

    "Hey! Peter, what''s up, man!" A voice calls out, and I turn to see Flash Thompson waving.

    "Flash?" I blink, a little thrown. I''d known him all my life, he''s been my best friend for...as long as I can remember and yet....Flash slaps my back in an easy, familiar way, nodding in approval.

    "Finally getting the recognition you deserve, Parker," he says. "Let''s see what you got."

    I nod, feeling a strange mix of pride and confusion, but Uncle Ben''s hand on my shoulder anchors me.

    We walk together into the gleaming lobby of Oscorp, where I''m met with more familiar faces¡ªsmiling, nodding, clapping me on the back. Liz Allen catches my eye, beaming like I''m someone she''s proud to know, and Charlie from my chemistry class waves, mouthing, "Good luck, man."

    "See?" Uncle Ben nudges me gently. "You''ve got a whole crowd cheering for you. Told you."

    I glance at him, my heart swelling. It''s true, isn''t it? This is what it feels like to be seen, respected.

    Yet something nags at me, a whisper in the back of my mind, warning me to stay alert, to question it. But I bury the feeling as the doors open, revealing the large expo hall.

    I scan the crowd, and my chest tightens when I see Gwen Stacy standing with... Harry Osborn.

    He''s got his arm slung over her shoulders, laughing like they''re in on some private joke. Gwen notices me, offering a small smile, but Harry''s stare is cold, assessing. His gaze makes my stomach churn, yet he says nothing.

    I take a deep breath, gripping my hard drive. Focus. It''s time to present my project.

    I make my way to the podium, my heart racing, but Ben''s words echo in my head. You earned this. Fair and square. With that, I plug in the hard drive and begin.

    "Today, I''m presenting the ''Phoenix Protocol''." My voice carries through the hall, and I spot Ben''s proud grin in the crowd. "It''s a method of reconstituting data and material to their original forms, even after destruction or loss."

    I pull up a visual¡ªa sleek 3D model of a small device, shaped almost like an orb, that glows faintly as it hovers in the display. "Think of it as a way to bring back what''s been lost, to recover what''s...gone." The words resonate strangely, the weight of them settling in my chest as I glance at Ben.

    I dive into the mechanics, explaining how the Phoenix Protocol can reassemble fragmented data or objects by mapping their unique energy signatures. It''s a hopeful concept¡ªone that could preserve the essence of things, the parts we think are lost forever.

    The crowd murmurs in awe, nodding in appreciation, but I barely hear them. My gaze keeps drifting back to Ben, watching with pride, and for some reason, I feel an urge to hold onto this moment. I want to etch his approving smile, his gentle chuckle, deep into my memory, to preserve it as if... as if I might need it later.

    When the applause hits, it feels distant, echoing around me. I step down, and Uncle Ben wraps me in a hug, his voice warm with pride. "You see? That''s my Peter." He squeezes my shoulder, but his touch feels hazy, like he''s slipping through my fingers.

    "Thanks, Uncle Ben," I say, holding on just a little tighter. "For everything."

    "You''re gonna do amazing things, kid," he murmurs, his words like a promise.

    But as I step back, a hollow ache lingers, and suddenly the world around me feels thin, stretched. Harry''s smirk feels darker, Gwen''s smile feels faint, and Ben''s voice, even as he speaks, feels like it''s fading. The bright light around me dims, and my chest tightens with a sense of impending loss.

    In the back of my mind, the words repeat like a drumbeat: You''ve got nothing to be nervous about. You earned this. Fair and square. But the words feel like an echo, from far away.

    For the briefest moment, I see something else¡ªflashes of cracked walls, a shadow moving in the corner of my eye. And then, before I can blink, it''s gone, and I''m left in the bright hall, still surrounded by smiles that somehow feel too perfect.

    What is wrong with me?

    "Hey, Peter." Ben says, grabbing my attention. "Who are you?"

    I stare at him blankly for a while, feeling sick to my stomach, for a reason I can''t explain. "W-What? What do you mean?"

    Ben stares at me quietly for a few more moments, and the room goes quiet, then, he smiles and the chattering and conversations continue as if nothing had even happened. "I said we have to get back soon if we''re gonna make it back in time for the marathon."

    "Ye-Yeah. Okay." I say, unsure of what just happened.

    "Petey, don''t leave without even saying hi." Liz says, and behind her Charlie and Flash.

    "H-Huh?" I say, my words catching in my throat for a second. "Sorry, guys. I just...feel off."

    Ben grabs my shoulder. "I''ll wait for you back in the car. Don''t take too long player." He grins, and for a moment I''m confused, but then Liz grabs my hand and I realize he means me.

    Because...I''m dating Liz Allen.

    Right? I already know I am.

    So, why''s it so confusing to me?

    It''s not.

    I know who I am. And where I am.

    Liz kisses me in the cheek. "You did great out there. Although, I wish you''d give up all this geeky stuff and come back to the football team."

    Flash slaps me on the back. "Nah, Pete''s fine. Besides without him on the team it gives the other high schools a chance this year. Dudes a beast on that field."

    I chuckle nervously. "Yeah..."

    Liz moves closer to me. "Everything alright, Petey? Was it the party last night? You still hung over?"

    I shake my head. "I uh...I don''t drink?"

    Liz shares confused glances with the others. "I have about ten videos of last night that say otherwise."

    "Oh...well...yeah maybe it was last night then." I say, looking down to my feet. "I''ve gotta...go see uncle Ben. I need to make sure he''s...okay." Then without even giving them another glance I bolt for the door, but that''s when I hear something crunch beneath my foot.

    It''s a...spider?

    I shake my head continuing out the door, seeing that Uncle Ben is in the car, where I expected him to be.

    Because...everything''s okay.

    I''m okay.

    I''m okay.

    I''m...who am I...again?

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    A news report flickers across the screen, showing an old man''s face¡ªa grainy photo beside a headline: Elderly Man Killed by Wanted Thug. The anchor''s voice drones on, describing the suspect: a man on the run for petty theft from a local wrestling company, now charged with murder.

    I don''t know why, but looking at that face on the screen makes my blood simmer, a surge of anger boiling up from nowhere. My fists clench involuntarily, my pulse throbbing in my ears.

    Ben notices. He picks up the remote, quickly changing the channel to a cooking show. "You sure you''re okay, kiddo?" He studies me with that soft, concerned look of his. "You''ve been acting a little off since the expo."

    I try to pull myself together, forcing a tight smile. "I''m fine. I''m... okay," I say, though the words feel thin, like they''re barely holding me together. I say it again, more to myself than to him. "Everything''s okay. I think I''m just... tired."

    Ben clicks over to a cooking show, and the upbeat host is talking about the best way to glaze a ham. I let out a small, unsteady laugh, realizing I''ve been holding my breath. Ben raises an eyebrow, giving me a soft grin.

    "You''re sure?" he asks. "You''ve been acting different since that big expo. Maybe you''re just burnt out, hmm?"

    I give him a small smile, shrugging. "Maybe. But you''re right... I probably just need some rest."

    The next few days pass in this cozy blur. It''s surreal, but in the best way. I help Ben in the garden, like we used to when I was a kid, getting dirt under my nails as we pull weeds and plant tomatoes. We laugh, arguing about which ones need the most sunlight and where the basil should go. I haven''t seen him laugh this freely in ages.

    In the evenings, May insists we try new recipes together, so we cook in a way that feels clumsy but warm. We''re messing up together, spilling flour and accidentally doubling the salt in the spaghetti sauce. She''s buzzing around the kitchen, and Ben is pretending to know how to julienne onions, laughing as she corrects him. I can feel the warmth in my chest, growing stronger each day. With them, it feels like everything fits, like I''m where I''m supposed to be.

    We take an afternoon to drive out to Coney Island. The boardwalk is crowded, but somehow I don''t mind. We laugh at Ben''s terrible attempts at the ring toss, and May drags us onto the Ferris wheel, even though Ben says he''s terrified of heights. I''m in the middle of it all, watching their faces, this moment stretching out like it''ll last forever. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Like we''re invincible.

    But sometimes, when I''m alone, a weird, nagging sensation pulls at the back of my mind, like a thread I can''t quite grasp. It''s there when I''m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling; it''s there when I see a certain face on the news or walk past a construction site. It''s like a memory that slips away the moment I reach for it.

    One evening, we''re watching TV after dinner, and a news report breaks in, the anchor''s face tense as she explains an attack on Oscorp Tower.

    The camera cuts to scenes of chaos¡ªscreaming people, police cars, and shattered glass everywhere. And then I see it. A creature, towering, its scales glistening green under the city lights, its monstrous claws tearing through everything in its path.

    A lizard.

    My chest tightens. The same weird d¨¦j¨¤ vu hits, stronger than ever. This feels familiar, wrong but right at the same time. Ben and May sit on either side of me, their faces frozen, horrified as the scene unfolds. People are running, screaming, bodies lying on the pavement, limp and unmoving.

    I grip the edge of the couch, my hands clammy, watching helplessly. A voice at the back of my mind screams that I should do something¡ªthat I want to do something. But I can''t.

    I''m just a kid. A normal high-school kid.

    My heart pounds as the creature claws its way through the city. The news cuts to a reporter on the ground, describing the carnage, the lives lost. Ben squeezes my shoulder, his eyes wide with worry. "What kind of thing would do that?" he whispers.

    I swallow, looking away. I don''t have an answer. The helplessness gnaws at me, twisting my stomach into knots. I''m watching, but every part of me feels like I''m failing¡ªfailing people I don''t even know, people who, for some reason, feel as if they''re depending on me.

    "I don''t know..." I finally manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

    May leans over, placing a gentle hand on my arm. "We just have to hope the police get everyone to safety," she murmurs. But her words don''t do anything to soothe the growing ache in my chest.

    Then, a question comes to my mind again, that day during the expo. The weird thing when Ben asked me, "Who are you?" It seemed so random at the time, almost out of place, and he''d never acknowledged it. Although the question never left my mind, "Who am I?" As I watch the screen, watching the terror unfold, I can''t help but feel that there''s something I''m forgetting.

    The question gnaws at me, even as I try to ignore it: Who am I? I can''t shake the strange feeling that I''m missing something, a piece of myself buried somewhere just out of reach.

    At school, I''m surrounded by people, friends, admirers¡ªmy girlfriend, Liz, who clings to my arm like it''s her lifeline, laughing at everything I say, even when I barely say anything. She''s in high spirits, but every smile I give feels stretched and fake. I''m popular, accepted, even envied here. It should feel great, right? But it doesn''t. It just feels... hollow.

    Lunchtime can''t come fast enough, and I finally manage to slip away, telling Liz I need to grab something from my locker. I head out, dodging people in the halls, until I find a quiet spot in the school courtyard. I exhale, trying to shake off the tension, but the question lingers. Who am I?

    That''s when I hear a voice behind me. "Peter?" I turn around to see Gwen Stacy, looking just as surprised to see me as I am to see her. We haven''t talked since grade school, but there''s something familiar and calming about her, like we''re reconnecting after years of knowing each other.

    We chat for a bit, small talk that feels unexpectedly comforting, and before I know it, I''m spilling everything that''s been on my mind. "I just feel... off, Gwen. Like I''m not really here, or like there''s something I''m supposed to be doing, but I don''t know what." The words come tumbling out, and she listens quietly, her blue eyes steady and thoughtful.

    "My dad used to tell me," Gwen says after a moment, "that at the center of our being, we all have that answer. We know who we are, and what we want. It''s just about finding that answer first, I suppose. But I always thought you could figure it out by knowing what you''re not. So... who are you, Peter Parker?"

    The question hits me like a punch. Images flash through my mind¡ªmoments, feelings, memories with Gwen I shouldn''t be able to recall. I feel something deep inside, something I can''t explain, as if a lost memory is on the verge of surfacing, but then... pain. A headache, sudden and sharp, makes me clutch my head.

    Before I can even process it,Harry  storms over, shoving me back. "Stay away from Gwen," he snaps, a warning in his tone. He grabs her arm, pulling her away with him. It''s strange¡ªI know I don''t get along with Harry, we''ve been enemies for years, but as I watch them leave, I feel a pang of sadness.

    It feels... wrong. As if we were once close.

    The day only gets stranger from there. Later, I hear a commotion outside the school, and I catch a glimpse of a man in what looks like a scorpion costume, crashing through the gates, wreaking havoc. People scream, running in all directions. Helplessly, I watch as he grabs Harry in his claws, pulling him closer. My instincts scream at me to do something, to help¡ªbut I''m rooted to the spot, terrified, and unsure of what to do.

    Finally, I muster the courage to confront him. "Let him go!" I shout, my voice shaking. The man just chuckles, lowering his grotesque, scorpion-shaped helmet toward me.

    "Who are you?" he sneers, his voice dripping with mockery. Before I can answer, his tail whips around, hitting me square in the chest. Pain explodes through my ribs as I hit the ground, gasping for breath.

    Sirens wail as the cops arrive, surrounding the Scorpion, who tries to escape in the chaos. Shots ring out, and in the confusion, I hear a strangled cry. I look up, horrified, to see Harry slump to the ground, hit by a stray bullet. The Scorpion makes his escape, leaving Harry motionless on the ground.

    My vision blurs. I feel the urge to scream, to cry, to do something. I could''ve done something... but I didn''t. And now, Harry''s dead.

    ~~~

    Weeks pass, and the funeral finally arrives.

    There are hundreds of people here, more than I ever thought would show up. Most of them are strangers to me¡ªsuits and designer dresses, people who I''m almost positive Harry wouldn''t have cared about. They''re probably here because of Norman Osborn. The man could charm a crowd even at his own son''s funeral.

    I stand toward the back, not wanting to be seen, not really knowing where I belong. Gwen is up front with her family, tears streaking her face. Seeing her like that twists something in my chest. I feel guilty. I don''t know why¡ªI shouldn''t. I couldn''t have done anything.

    Right?

    I couldn''t have done anything...

    "Peter?" A voice pulls me from my thoughts.

    I turn around, and my heart skips a beat. "C-Captain Stacy?" My voice cracks, and it surprises me how relieved I sound. How glad I am to see him standing there, alive.

    He tilts his head, giving me a strange look. "Yeah...you okay, kid?"

    "I..." The words catch in my throat. I feel like I can''t breathe. "I''m glad you''re okay," I finally manage, though it comes out shaky.

    Captain Stacy raises an eyebrow. "Okay? Yeah, I''m fine. You sure you''re okay? You don''t look so hot."

    I laugh nervously, running a hand through my hair. "I don''t know. Lately, everything just feels...wrong. Like none of this is supposed to be happening. Not you, not Gwen, not Harry. It''s like...like the pieces don''t fit, you know?"

    He watches me quietly for a second, then sighs. "I get what you mean. The world''s changed a lot. Guys with powers, big tech, aliens¡ªmakes the rest of us feel pretty small sometimes. Even the best officers out there look like kids playing dress-up next to them."

    His words sting, though I can''t say why. I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms. "But it''s more than that. It''s like...I don''t know. Like this is all my fault somehow. Like maybe if I¡ª"

    He cuts me off with a stern look. "Peter, stop. Whatever this is, it''s not on you. No one''s expecting a fifteen-year-old kid to take on the world''s problems."

    "I am." The words come out sharp, bitter. "I expect it."

    He frowns, his gaze softening. "You''re a good kid, Peter. But you''ve done enough. You''ve got nothing to prove to anyone. Let the rest of us handle it. You can rest easy now."

    Rest easy? Done enough? What is he talking about? "What do you mean?" I ask, my voice shaking. "I''ve done enough? What have I done?"

    He doesn''t answer. He just smiles at me¡ªsad and kind¡ªand pats my shoulder. "Goodbye, Peter."

    And then he walks away.

    I don''t know why, but watching him leave fills me with this unbearable weight, this ache I can''t explain. It''s like I''m losing something, someone, and I''m not ready. I want to call after him, to stop him, but my throat tightens, and all I can do is stand there, watching.

    And for the first time in weeks, I feel it. The sense of loss, the emptiness, that nagging thought I keep pushing down. Who am I?

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    It isn''t until a week later that I find out Captain Stacy is killed.

    Killed by some rampaging monster in the streets, a big burly man who killed over a dozen other cops and still is on the loose, just like the lizard man, and the scorpion guy who killed Harry. Now there''s another.

    Then a week after that, there''s a blackout, some man made of electricity killing hundreds, also free and at large.

    But somehow, the more deaths the happen the more I feel responsible. Like somehow these men are my responsibility, Harry, and Captain Stacy...how could it be my fault?

    Why do so many people keep dying? Why do I feel like I can even stop this? Why?

    Why?

    Why?

    Why?

    Why?

    Why?

    "What''s up, loser."

    I turn to the voice, it''s a girl, with brown hair and a piercing gaze. "W-Who are you?"

    She smirks. "The better question is, who are you?"

    "What?"

    "What are you doing sitting up here? When you''re supposed to be out there knocking those guys skulls around?" She says, joining me in leaning over the building looking down towards the street.

    "What? How could I? I''m...just some kid."

    Felicia smirks. "Yeah. A kid who runs around in spandex, and can lift a bus over his head."

    Felicia? Wait...how do I know her name?

    "I uh..." I''m unsure of what to say to her, of why I''m sure that her name is Felicia. How I''m sure what she''s saying is correct. "I..."

    Felicia looks at me, her gaze as cool as ever. "I need you, Peter. We all do. All of this, it''s not right. So, hurry up and remember who you are already, Spider."

    Then just like that.

    I''m sure of it.

    I''m not just Peter Parker.

    I''m....I''m....

    "Peter?"

    Suddenly I''m back at home, sitting beside my uncle as he pauses the Star Trek movie. "What''s the matter? You''ve barely said a word."

    "Uncle Ben...." Tears fill my eyes as I look over to him, "I...I think I have to go. I think you have to go."

    He looks at me confused, then he smiles. "Ah. I see. So, it''s about that time."

    "What?"

    He stands before me, kneeling down on one knee as he gives me that smile that I remember so fondly. That smile that I know isn''t with us anymore. "You''ve done so well, son. I think soon, I won''t be able to tell you just how proud I am of you. How happy I am that you came into our lives."

    "But I...I''ve done so much wrong. I''ve failed...I''ve let people be hurt and even killed. I..." I can barely speak anymore, my words failing me as tears begin to spill. "I need you. I can''t do anything without you."

    Uncle Ben chuckles. "Come now. Sure you might''ve had some hiccups, but who doesn''t in life? Remember that time I didn''t listen to your aunt when she said not to take that shortcut down to the Grand Canyon and ended up popping a tire, we all got stuck walking hours to the nearest gas station. Or that time I let that skunk inside the house?"

    I chuckle. "Yeah, May never let you forget. But, I''m not really talking about anything that small."

    Ben sighs. "Nobody is perfect, Peter. Trust me when I say I''ve had my fair share of mistakes that weren''t small. But taking you in, loving you and raising you. That most definitely was not one of them. I love you, Peter Parker. You are my son. And for everyday that you are, you make me and your aunt so proud. You are enough."

    I feel his embrace, and it''s bittersweet.

    Because this is the end.

    My name is Peter Parker.

    I was bitten by a radioactive spider.

    I was given powers, which my family taught me to view as a great responsibility.

    I don''t always win.

    In fact more often than not. I lose.

    But I never give up.

    Why?

    Because I''m the Amazing Spider-Man.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    My eyes snap open, and I''m met with the same dingy, cluttered room I''d been in before. My head is pounding, but I''m awake.

    I''m here.

    I''m Peter.

    I''m¡ª

    "Felicia!" I shout, bolting upright. My heart races as the fragmented memories return: Quentin Beck. The fever dream. The trap. I scramble to my feet, scanning the room, but it''s empty.

    The sound of heavy breathing draws me toward the next room. I step into the wrecked living area and freeze. The place is in ruins¡ªfurniture overturned, shattered glass everywhere, and Felicia Hardy sitting on the couch, bloodied and bruised. Beneath her sprawls an unconscious Quentin Beck.

    Her swollen lip curls into a smirk when she sees me. "Oh, look. Sleeping Beauty''s finally up."

    My chest tightens as I take in the scene¡ªthe destruction, the gash on her cheek, the exhaustion in her posture. "Felicia, what the hell happened here?"

    She shrugs, leaning back like it''s no big deal. "Your boy Beck tried his mind games on me. Didn''t work. So he decided to get physical instead." She nods toward the limp figure on the floor. "Then, I kicked his ass."

    I rush to her, gently tilting her face toward me to examine her injuries. "You''re a mess. You should''ve¡ª"

    Her hand snaps up, pressing against my chest to stop me. "Save it, Parker. It was either him or us. You were down for the count, so I handled it."

    She''s right. Beck would''ve had me on a platter for Norman Osborn if she hadn''t stepped in. I exhale, the tension easing just enough for a shaky smile. "Thank you, Felicia. You saved me. You''re¡ª"

    "A good friend. Yeah, yeah, I know," she says, cutting me off with a wave of her hand.

    I can''t help but laugh, despite everything. "So...what now? We can''t exactly call the cops. Not with my face on their dartboards."

    Felicia shifts uncomfortably, wincing slightly. "Don''t worry about that. I couldn''t find anything on his computer about what he used to frame you, but I did dig up some juicy dirt. The kind that could ruin him if it ever went public. Turns out, you''re not the only person Beck''s framed. He''s got skeletons in closets all over the world¡ªselling military secrets, extortion, you name it. He''s got enemies in prison who''d probably kill to thank him in person." Her smirk turns wicked. "When he wakes up, we''ll...motivate him to come clean. On live TV. Trust me, he''ll talk."

    I glance at Beck''s limp body, unease curling in my gut. "And what if he''s more scared of Norman than he is of us?"

    "Yeah, he''s definitely scared of Norman, all right. I mean, who wouldn''t be?" she says, standing slowly and stretching out a stiff shoulder. "But when it''s Norman Osborn versus literally everyone else on the planet, I''m betting he''ll fold."

    I hesitate, then shoot her a sheepish look. "Hey, uh...speaking of digging through computers, you haven''t, uh...looked through mine, right?"

    Her grin widens. "Oh, don''t worry. I definitely haven''t seen your little secret Gwen folder."

    My face goes hot, and I stammer, "I¡ªI don''t have a¡ª"

    "Relax, Parker," she says, laughing. "I''m just messing with you."

    I try to muster some indignation, but all I feel is gratitude. Somehow, I can''t even be mad. I''m just glad she''s here. That I''m here.

    "Thanks, Felicia. For everything. I mean it. I don''t know where I''d be without you."

    Her expression shifts, just for a moment¡ªa flicker of vulnerability breaking through the sarcasm. "Don''t say stuff like that. It''s embarrassing."

    She turns away, but before the moment passes completely, she adds, "But...I guess I should thank you too."

    "For what?" I ask, surprised.

    She looks at me, her cool demeanor softening into something earnest. "For trusting me."

 Legacy

    Felicia and I had a long talk with Quintien Beck, and after a while it didn''t take long for him to consider his limited options.

    Not long after that there it was, the news segment where former Oscorp researcher and developer Quintien Beck revealed his lies to the world, along with the man who had hired him too.

    Norman Osborn.

    The world once again had been turned upside down, but finally Spider-Man''s name was in the clear, and not only that but Norman''s depravity had come to light and his possible connection to the Green Goblin terrorist, and although a warrant for his arrest hadn''t been issued yet, I was sure that his time would come.

    *Hey, Pete. Me and Arthur are waiting for you to start movie night. Mom''s gonna be working all night again so I''m sure you can stay over later.*

    I read Gwen''s message over and over again, just trying to figure out when I managed to find someone so perfect for me.

    If this were a couple of weeks ago I''d rush straight over, but right now I owe it to a friend to go by and see him.

    I knock on Harry''s door, my heart beating a bit louder than usual as I wait for the door to open. If it even does.

    Slowly, the door creaks and Harry sticks his head out, before smiling and pulling me into a hug. "Hey, man. How are you?"

    I smile back weakly, not seeing the baggy eyes or the worn down Harry from before...he looks...healthier. "I-I''m good. I just came...to see you."

    Harry ushers me inside with the same smile he had before he was hooked on those goblin pills, almost like the old Harry was back. "Yeah? Well, I''m glad to see you. How''s May? Any better?" He says as he leads me to his fathers old office.

    "She''s about as good as she can be. Still no responce, and the diner isn''t doing any better either. I''m managing though." I tell him, hoping that I''m not dropping too many things at once.

    He nods taking a seat at the desk in his father''s office, and I take a seat in the chair just in front of it as he stares into an opened computer. "Yeah, I can''t even imagine. What about Gwen? I''m sure she''s having a terrible time right now."

    I look away. "She''s also just...managing."

    Harry closes the laptop intertwining his hands in front of him as he watches me closely. Almost like he''s observing me. "I''m sure. So, what''s with the unexpected visit? It wouldn''t have anything to do with my father''s most recent controversy?"

    I couldn''t help but feel a little awkward at his bluntness, I mean, even I wasn''t fully sure why I had come here so unexpectedly. Was it for friendship? Information? I don''t know. "I-I just..."

    He puts his hand up halting me from speaking. "Look, it''s alright I get it. They say my father may have had something to do with the bombing that put your aunt into that coma. But...it''s not true okay? My father has nothing to do with that...monster."

    Then it hit me, something I hadn''t really had time to consider. Does Harry know his father is the Green Goblin? I mean, before it seemed that way, the guilty look at the hospital, that terrified phone call to me, I mean all signs pointed to yes he knows. Yet, here he was, telling me...that his father had nothing to do with the bombings.

    Is he just trying to protect me? Trying to shield me from the truth? Or...is it something else?

    "Harry, I''m not here to talk about...that." I say, not sure if I wanted to believe Harry would really cover for his father even after all he''d done. "I just wanted to come see my best friend."

    Without Norman, and with all the controversy surrounding Oscorp, the company''s on a downward spiral. Harry''s been trying to hold it together, but I can tell¡ªit''s eating him alive. I was hoping, that maybe it wouldn''t be too late to try and lend a hand, to show him that regardless of everything that was going on. There was still a way out, and a way forward.

    "I''m grateful, Peter. I am. But...right now isn''t the best time. They want my father off the board," he says, voice tight. "They''re acting like he''s already dead, like he''s some kind of liability they need to cut loose before he drags them down with him."

    I let out a breath. "Harry... maybe that''s not your problem to fix."

    His head snaps up, eyes narrowing. "Not my problem? This is my family, Peter."

    I nod, but carefully. "I know. But¡ªwhat about you? What do you want? Your life, school, your future? You don''t have to be the one to save Oscorp."

    He shakes his head, like I don''t get it. Like I never could. "If your Uncle Ben had a legacy to leave behind, wouldn''t you do anything to protect it? To honor it?"

    I go quiet.

    Because I know the answer.

    I wouldn''t let anyone take away what Ben left behind. I wouldn''t let him be forgotten.

    I swallow, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Do you have any idea where he is? Your dad?"

    Harry exhales sharply, shaking his head. "No. But I will find him. And I will save him."

    There''s something in the way he says it that makes my stomach twist. It''s not hope. It''s not determination. It''s something darker, heavier.

    He looks at me then, really looks at me, and I don''t know if it''s meant to be an accusation or just the plain, bitter truth.

    "You know, Peter... I''ve been weak. My whole life. In every way that matters." He clenches his jaw. "But if I can do this¡ªif I can save my father, save his company¡ªthen maybe..."

    He doesn''t finish the sentence. Maybe what? Maybe he won''t be weak anymore? Maybe he''ll finally prove himself?

    I want to say something. To tell him that he isn''t weak, that he doesn''t have to do this, that he''s enough as he is.

    But the words don''t come.

    Because I know he won''t hear them.

    And as he turns away, his face set in stone, I feel it again¡ªthat aching, familiar helplessness.

    I''m losing him.

    And I don''t know how to save him

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The bills are piling up. Aunt May''s medical expenses, the repairs to the restaurant¡ªeverything is a weight pressing down on my shoulders, and no amount of super strength makes it easier to carry.

    Felicia had taken pictures for the insurance claim, but we''re still waiting to hear back. And even if it is approved, it won''t be enough. May''s medical bills are the real problem. No health insurance means every test is a direct hit to the already empty bank account.

    I sit at the kitchen table, sifting through paperwork, my head in my hands. Felicia leans against the counter, watching me.

    "Y''know," she says, crossing her arms. "Maybe I should head home."

    I glance up. "What?"

    She shrugs, but there''s something careful in her tone. "You''ve got enough going on. You don''t need me hanging around when you''re trying to juggle all this. Your aunt, the restaurant, the whole... Norman Osborn trying to kill you situation."

    I shake my head. "I''m not just gonna send you off back to your dads because things are hard. May wouldn''t want that."

    Felicia tilts her head, watching me with something softer than usual. "You''re an annoyingly good guy. Y''know that?"

    I let out a breath, some of the tension leaving my body. "Debatable."

    "I know you can''t accept a compliment to save your life. But don''t you think you''ve done enough for the city for a while? Can''t you just...be Peter Parker for a while?" She asks, and I wish it were that easy.

    For me to put the mask behind, and move on with my life, like any other kid. But that''s the thing, I''m not just any other kid.

    Not anymore.

    "No, Felicia. I can''t." I say, and she sighs as if she were expecting this answer.

    She bits her lip, resting her hands on her hips. "Not to bring this up while you''re thinking about all this other nonsense, but what''s your plan for Osborn? You think he''s plotting his next move?"

    I stare down at the table, pressing my fingers against my temples. "I have no idea. I''ve got all these powers, but at the end of the day, I''m just a kid. Norman''s playing a dangerous game, and I''ve barely figured out the rules. I don''t know where he is or what he''s planning. All I can do is hope I''m there when something happens." My jaw tightens. "And that nobody else has to die."This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Then it hits me.

    The news¡ªwhen they arrested Doc Ock, they said he''d been working out of an old Oscorp facility. If Norman''s hiding out somewhere, it makes sense he''d do the same. But how do I even begin to track that down? Doesn''t matter, trying and failing is better than doing nothing at all and waiting around for him to pull whatever else he''s got planned for me. I''m not going to just sit around while he hurts more people.

    I quickly explain my thought process to Felicia, who agrees with me.

    I look up at Felicia. "Oscorp must''ve owned a ton of buildings. I don''t even know where to start."

    She smirks. "That''s easy. We check their website. Or city property records. Cross-reference with tax filings, maybe¡ª"

    I groan. "That could take forever. There have to be hundreds of locations."

    Felicia tosses a bag of chips at me. "Then I hope you like all-nighters, because we''re not sleeping until we find something."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Hours pass. The table is a mess of notes, half-eaten snacks, and Felicia''s boots kicked up on the edge.

    We cross off locations the police have already searched, thanks to my less-than-legal access to their systems. Felicia texts some of her "friends" to see if any shipments of Goblin pills have been spotted moving through the city, but nothing turns up.

    I lean back in my chair, rubbing my eyes. "This is going nowhere."

    Felicia shrugs. "Then we need a new angle."

    I stare at the map in front of me. Oscorp had to be getting their Goblin pill shipments from somewhere. And if there was anywhere he''d be hiding we both agreed our best chance would be to find that warehouse. It''s a long shot, but it''s all we have. It wouldn''t be a public lab¡ªNorman was keeping it quiet. That means off-the-books deliveries.

    Then I remember¡ªback when I fought Shocker in that warehouse, I saw trucks from different companies.

    I sit up straight. "Fleet management software."

    Felicia blinks. "The hell does that mean?"

    I pull my laptop closer, my fingers flying across the keyboard. "Companies track their trucks in real-time to make sure they''re on schedule. If I can hack into the systems of the companies I saw that day, I can find out where their deliveries overlapped. If multiple trucks stopped at the same place, chances are it was a supply point for the Goblin pills."

    Felicia frowns. "You say that like I''m supposed to understand it."

    I don''t answer. I''m already too deep in code, bypassing firewalls, accessing shipment logs, marking locations in my notebook. It takes hours, but finally¡ªfinally¡ªone place keeps coming up. A decommissioned Oscorp facility. One that''s not on any of the lists we checked.

    I point to the screen. "That''s it. That''s where he is. It has to be."

    Felicia leans in, studying it. "We can tip off the cops. An anonymous call, let them handle it."

    I clench my fists. "No."

    Her eyes narrow. "Peter¡ª"

    "I don''t want anyone else getting hurt." The words come out sharper than I mean them to. My mind flashes to Captain Stacy, to his lifeless body in the street, to the blood that won''t ever come out of my suit. My throat tightens. "I can''t let Norman get away with this."

    Felicia exhales. "You''ve fought him twice already, and he nearly killed you both times. You go in alone, and...you may not come back this time. And I don''t want to lo¡ª"

    I meet her gaze. "I''ve been in this fight alone ever since I got these powers. This time is no different."

    She grabs my wrist, her grip firm, her eyes locked onto mine. "You''re not alone anymore."

    I pull away. "Once I stop Norman, everything will go back to normal. No more of the supervillains he created. May will be okay. And Gwen and I can finally move on. From all of this."

    Felicia shakes her head. "Peter, listen to me¡ª"

    "I have to end this. Whatever it takes."

    The decision is made.

    I stand, pulling my suit from my bag and slipping it on putting it beneath my clothes.

    Felicia watches me, her expression unreadable. "You''re really doing this, huh?"

    I force a smile. "Don''t worry. This''ll all be over soon."

    She doesn''t return it. She just shakes her head and whispers, "Peter, be careful. And¡ªCome back."

    I don''t look back as I head for the door.

    I can''t fail.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I knock lightly on Gwen''s door, my hand lingering against the wood for just a second longer than necessary. Every part of me screams to turn back¡ªto run before I have to face the look in her eyes. But I can''t. Not without seeing her first.

    The door opens, and there she is¡ªGwen, smiling through the remnants of her latest breakdown. Her eyes are red, her cheeks blotchy, and I know without her saying a word that she''s been crying again. But she still smiles, still wraps her arms around me the moment she sees me, holding me like she''s afraid I''ll disappear if she lets go.

    "You just missed the season premiere of Captain Woman," she says, her voice warm, teasing, like she hasn''t been hurting all night. "But they''re playing a two-part special, so you can still watch the second episode with me. Don''t worry, I''ll explain the first one¡ª"

    She grabs my hand, tugging me inside like she always does, like nothing''s wrong. But I don''t move. I just stand there, staring at the ground, my fingers curled tightly in hers.

    Her smile falters. "Pete?"

    I don''t answer. I just pull her close and kiss her.

    For a moment, she freezes, caught off guard. Then she melts into it, her fingers tangling in the fabric of my jacket, holding me like she never wants to let go. When we finally pull apart, she''s smiling again, breathless¡ªuntil she sees the look on my face.

    Her brows knit together, and she searches my eyes, her fingers still laced with mine. "What''s wrong? You have that ''Peter'' look on your face again."

    I swallow the lump in my throat. "There''s something I need to do." I squeeze her hand. "I just... wanted to see you before I left."

    Gwen stiffens. "Okay, that''s super cryptic. And kinda scary." She tries to laugh, but there''s an edge of panic creeping into her voice. "Peter, what''s going on?"

    I don''t answer.

    Her grip tightens. "Why do you do this?" she whispers. Her eyes glisten, and she blinks rapidly, like she''s trying to hold back tears. "Why do you always feel like you have to hide everything from me?"

    I look away, jaw clenched. "This''ll all be over soon," I murmur. "And when it is... I''ll tell you everything. All the times when you were confused, and hurt, and felt like you didn''t know what''s going on with me. That ends. I just need to take care of this thing first."

    She sniffles, swiping at her eyes, trying to keep herself together. "So, you mean like...everything? Is¡ªIs that a Promise?"

    I force a small smile. "Yeah, I Promise."

    For a second, that seems to be enough. She nods, exhaling slowly, like she''s convincing herself to believe me. But then I hesitate¡ªjust for a second¡ªand she notices.

    "Peter, what is it?"

    I shake my head. "Nothing, I just..." I take a breath, my heart pounding. I can''t tell her, but there''s a chance I might not be able to keep that promise, there''s a chance that when I go and find Norman tonight...he might really kill me. In the end, I suppose Felicia could tell her everything for me. I hope she would, but there''s one thing I wanted to say, something that would never sound right coming from someone else. "There''s something I need to say to you. Something I don''t want to regret never saying."

    Her lips part, confusion flickering across her face. "You''re being cryptic again," she says softly.

    I chuckle under my breath. "Yeah, I guess I am."

    I stare at her, taking in everything. The way her hair falls over her shoulder, the way her brows crease when she''s worried, the way her lips part slightly like she''s about to interrupt. I want to tell her. Need to tell her.

    But before I can, she stops me.

    "Not yet," she says, pressing her fingers against my lips gently. "Take care of whatever this is first. And then come tell me."

    "Gwen¡ª"

    "I-It sounds like you''re saying goodbye right now," she cuts me off, shaking her head. "And I hate goodbyes." Her voice wavers. "So I''ll wait. You come back, and then we''ll talk."

    I stare at her for a long moment. And then I smile, soft and small.

    "Okay," I whisper. "It''s see you later, then."

    Gwen smiles through her tears. "See you later."

    I turn to go, but just as I step off the porch, she calls after me.

    "Hey, Peter?"

    I glance back.

    She wipes her eyes. "You better not keep me waiting too long."

    I swallow the ache in my throat and force another smile. "I won''t."

    And then I walk away, hoping¡ªpraying¡ªthat I''ll get the chance to keep that promise.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The steady beeping of the heart monitor is the only thing breaking the silence in Aunt May''s hospital room. The rhythm is slow, steady¡ªbut it reminds me of a countdown.

    I sit beside her bed, my hands curled into fists, my mask tucked into my pocket, the city forgotten for just a moment. She looks so small here, so fragile. The woman who raised me, who always had a kind word, a gentle touch, a way of making the world feel less terrifying¡ªreduced to this. A frail body hooked up to machines, fighting a battle I can''t punch my way out of.

    "I''m gonna fix this, May," I whisper. My voice cracks. I clear my throat. "I promise."

    My fingers brush over her hand, cold beneath my touch.

    "I know you''d tell me I don''t have to do this alone," I say, forcing a small laugh that dies in my throat. "But I do. I have to. For you. For Harry. For Gwen. For everyone he''s hurt."

    She doesn''t answer. She just keeps breathing, unaware of the war about to unfold outside these walls.

    I squeeze her hand one last time before I stand. "I love you," I say, barely above a whisper.

    And then I walk out the door.

    I swing through the city, the wind howling in my ears, my vision locked ahead. I move faster than I ever have before, my body cutting through the night air with precision, determination.

    This is it.

    For Harry. For Gwen. For May. For Captain Stacy.

    For every life Norman Osborn has ruined.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I land on the rooftop of a decrepit Oscorp facility, a rotting skeleton of industry forgotten by time. The windows are shattered, the walls covered in grime, the air thick with something... wrong. The kind of wrong that prickles at my skin, tightens my chest, sets my spider-sense on edge.

    I shrug off my backpack, hiding it in a crevice in the rooftop. Then I step inside.

    It''s silent.

    Too silent.

    I move carefully, my feet barely making a sound against the cold concrete floor. The air smells stale, thick with something metallic. Blood.

    I swallow the bile rising in my throat.

    The deeper I go, the worse it gets.

    Then I see them.

    Bodies. Hung like meat in a butcher shop, suspended by thick chains, their eyes vacant, their mouths frozen in silent screams. Their bodies are... wrong. Twisted. Torn open.

    I gag, slapping a hand over my mouth, trying to keep my composure.

    Then I see the others.

    The ones split open, hollowed out, their organs¡ªgone.

    I grip my stomach, my knees nearly buckling. What the hell is he doing?

    And then¡ª

    A choked gasp.

    My head snaps toward the sound, and I see him.

    A man, barely alive, his body half mutated. His skin peeling, turning green in patches, his limbs contorted unnaturally. A shattered vial of sickly green ooze lies beside him.

    I step forward, reaching out¡ª

    Then...a sound that''s deeply engraved within the deepest depths of my mind¡ªthat laugh¡ªhis laugh, fills the room and my blood runs cold.

    My muscles tense, every nerve in my body on edge. The air is thick, heavy with the stench of rot and chemicals, and my breaths come slow and careful.

    Then, something sharp cuts through the silence¡ªa mechanical whir, fast and violent. My spider-sense screams. I throw myself to the side just as a massive shape tears through the crumbling wall, sending chunks of concrete flying.

    The glider streaks past me, metal blades glinting in the dim light before circling back and hovering above.

    And then I see him.

    The Goblin.

    He''s standing tall on the glider, his wicked grin splitting his face like a gash. His yellow eyes glow in the darkness, locked onto me with something almost like pride.

    He spreads his arms, voice thick with amusement. "Well done, Peter! I must admit, I wanted this next part to be a surprise. But I have to say, I''m impressed. You found me all on your own. Even my own son could never have done such a thing."

    My fists clench. Rage coils tight in my chest, burning, suffocating. The sight of him¡ªthe man who took everything from me¡ªmakes my vision blur at the edges. I take a slow step forward, my fingers twitching, my jaw locking.

    "I''m going to kill you." The words slip out before I can stop them, low and raw.

    The Goblin tilts his head, pretending to think it over. "Oh? Now that doesn''t sound very heroic."

    I don''t let him say another word. I shoot a web straight toward him and yank myself forward, launching a punch aimed right for his jaw. He moves at the last second, and my fist slams through the concrete wall behind him, sending dust and debris flying.

    I don''t stop. I flip back, twisting midair, aiming a kick straight for his head. He dodges again, laughing, always laughing, like this is just a game to him. It makes my blood boil.

    "I have to thank you, Peter," he taunts, circling me like a vulture. "You changed my life. Helped me see what needed to be done. In the end, you were the key to everything."

    I don''t care what he''s saying. I don''t care about his twisted justifications. I lunge at him again, but he''s faster than I expect, his glider whipping around behind me, forcing me to dodge at the last second.

    "Too slow," he sneers. Then the glider pivots and slams into my ribs, sending me crashing through a pile of rusted equipment. Pain shoots through my side, sharp and searing, but I push through it, staggering back to my feet.

    The Goblin watches me, head tilted, grinning wider. "You still don''t see it, do you?"

    I force myself to breathe. "See what?"

    He gestures to the facility around us. "That you were never just some accident, Peter. No, no, no. You... you were proof. Proof that with the right formula, the next step of human evolution was possible."

    I shake my head. "You''re insane."

    The Goblin laughs, delighted. "And yet, here you are. Living proof that a new age has come upon us! That the next step is just around the corner."

    I don''t wait. I lunge again, but he''s ready this time. He dodges with ease, ducking under my punch before driving his elbow into my ribs. I gasp, barely able to react before his fist slams into my jaw, sending me staggering.

    He doesn''t let up.

    Blow after blow, he beats me back, his attacks ruthless, precise, like he''s been waiting for this moment. My head rings, my vision swims, but I refuse to go down.

    I force myself up, panting. "I won''t let you get away with what you''ve done. I''ll make sure you pay for each and every life you''ve taken. You''ll pay for all of them!"

    The Goblin only smiles. "Oh, Peter. I admit that there are times I forget you''re just a boy. All that power, and yet you''ve no idea what to do with it. Let me show you. "

    Then, before I can react, he leaps onto his glider and grabs me by the throat. My feet leave the ground, the air rushing past me as we shoot up through the ceiling, shattering through layers of metal and concrete.

    And then we''re above the city.

    My stomach twists. Below us, the skyline stretches out endlessly, but something is wrong. A blinding light pulses from every Oscorp building, filling the night with an eerie green glow. And then...

    The fog.

    A thick, sickly green mist begins to descend, creeping over the streets, swallowing everything in its path. Then I hear it¡ªthe screams.

    Not just fear. Pain. Agony.

    And then something else.

    Deep, guttural roars, inhuman and monstrous, echoing from below.

    My blood turns to ice.

    "Oh god..." I whisper, my voice barely audible. I turn my gaze back to Norman, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Norman... what have you done?"

    His eyes shine with something dark, something triumphant. "Yes, what have I done? I''ve done it. You remember my goblin pills? Quite a hit on the black market, and yet also the catalyst that will help bring about my new world. Of course, I couldn''t have done it without my favorite Spider." he says. "This is just the beginning. You see, Peter, evolution isn''t something to be feared. No, no... it''s something to be embraced."

    I thrash in his grip, struggling against the iron hold he has on my throat. "Harry... he took those pills," I manage, my voice strained. "Whatever you''ve done, it''ll affect him too!"

    For a moment, just a moment, Norman''s grin falters. Then, he laughs. "Then maybe I''ll finally have a son worthy of the Osborn name."

    Rage explodes inside me. "I''ll get you for this, Norman! I''ll make you pay! I''ll kill you! You''re a monster!"

    He only smirks. "And you''re a loose end."

    Something cold presses against my side.

    Pain. Blinding, searing pain.

    A blade, sharp and unforgiving, drives deep into my ribs, twisting, cutting through muscle and bone. A choked gasp rips from my throat, my vision blurring as warmth spreads down my side.

    Then, suddenly, I''m falling.

    The city rushes toward me, the air roaring in my ears, drowning out everything except the distant, echoing laughter of the Goblin above me.

    This... this is the end.

    I can feel it in my body, the way the air hits my back as I plummet back down below.

    All the sacrifice, all the hardship.

    I''m sorry.

    I''m sorry, everyone.

    Gwen, please forgive me.

 Goblin City (Part One)

    The city was dead.

    At least, that''s what it felt like. The streets that had once been packed with honking cars, bustling workers, and the constant hum of life were now barren, blanketed in an eerie silence that never used to exist in New York.

    Buildings stood as hollowed-out husks of their former selves, their glass shattered, their walls blackened by fires long extinguished. Every street corner was littered with abandoned vehicles, their doors left hanging open, their owners either dead or worse.

    The air carried the lingering scent of smoke and rot, thick with decay, but beneath it, there was something else¡ªsomething metallic, something sickly. The stench of Goblin gas still clung to the city like a curse, long after its initial release.

    The entire city was under quarantine, completely shut off from the rest of the world. Military had made attempts to take back the city, but all attempts had gone unsuccessful. Norman Osborn hadn''t been seen since the early days of the outbreak, and so far, there was seemingly nothing that could be done for these people.

    There was no hope.

    Felicia Hardy moved quickly through the empty pharmacy, her footsteps soft against the dirty tile floor. Shelves had already been raided months ago, their contents either stolen or trampled underfoot. What little remained was either spoiled, useless, or not even worth taking. The real reason she was here wasn''t food¡ªit was medicine.

    Aunt May''s condition was getting worse.

    Felicia had barely managed to get her out of the hospital five months ago, just as the city had collapsed in on itself. In the chaos, she had taken whatever she could from the hospital¡ªfeeding tubes, IV hydration packs, anything to keep May stable. But supplies were running low, and every day that passed, she feared she wouldn''t be able to keep her alive much longer.

    She tightened her grip on her bag, moving down the aisles with sharp, careful eyes. Every sound in this city could mean life or death, and she couldn''t afford to make a mistake. The Goblins were always lurking somewhere in the distance, and if they found her¡ª

    She shook the thought away, focusing.

    She scanned the shelves, fingers trailing over dust-covered bottles, hoping to find something useful. Most of the painkillers were gone, but there were still a few bottles of over-the-counter meds that might help. She shoved them into her bag, her heartbeat steady but tense.

    Then she paused.

    Something wasn''t right.

    A sound¡ªfaint, distant, but growing closer. Footsteps.

    Felicia''s entire body stiffened.

    The front doors of the pharmacy swung open, the bell above them jingling in the oppressive quiet. She barely had time to react before she slipped behind a shelf, pressing herself into the shadows, heart pounding against her ribs.

    Two men stepped inside, their voices breaking the silence.

    "God, I hate this part of the city," one of them grumbled. His boots scuffed against the tile as he kicked over a can, letting it roll lazily across the floor.

    "Then why the hell did we come out here?" the second man asked, his voice rough, impatient.

    "Because," the first one said, "these abandoned places still have shit we can use. Just gotta dig a little."

    Felicia didn''t move. She barely breathed.

    People were just as dangerous as the monsters that roamed the streets¡ªsometimes worse. The city had turned into a wasteland, and those left behind had to make choices. Some had turned to scavenging, just like her. Others had turned to something much darker.

    The men kept talking, their voices casual, but there was an edge beneath them, something careless, something reckless.

    Felicia bit her lip, willing them to hurry up and leave.

    But they didn''t. Instead, they started making noise, knocking things over, laughing as they joked with each other. One of them grabbed a bag of stale chips off the shelf, crunching into them loudly.

    "Hey," the first guy said, his voice carrying a cruel amusement, "you ever wonder what happened to all the poor bastards who got left behind?"

    The second one scoffed. "Please. Either the Goblins tore ''em apart, or they''re hiding like rats. Not like it matters anymore."

    Felicia swallowed hard, gripping her bag tighter.

    Five months. Five months of running, hiding, stealing, surviving. She had never cried much as a kid, not even when her mother had disappeared from her life. But in the months since the Goblin''s attack, she had cried more than she ever thought possible.

    For her father, wherever he was.

    For Peter.

    The Goblin had made sure the whole world knew what he had done. He had taken great joy in telling everyone that Spider-Man was dead, that he had killed him himself. The image of Norman Osborn standing on that broadcast, the city burning behind him, had been burned into her mind. She had refused to believe it at first. Had refused to accept it.

    But Peter never came back.

    He died alone.

    And she hadn''t been able to do a damn thing to stop it.

    She had promised him he wasn''t alone, that she''d be there for him. But in the end, all she had left of him was the aching emptiness in her chest.

    Felicia clenched her jaw, pushing down the emotions clawing their way up. She couldn''t think about that right now.

    The men were still here, still laughing, still wasting time.

    She needed them to leave.

    But then, one of them stopped.

    "...You hear that?"

    Felicia''s breath hitched.

    A pause.

    The second man sighed. "Dude, you''re paranoid."

    "No, I swear. Thought I heard something."

    His boots scraped against the floor as he turned his head, scanning the store.

    Felicia pressed herself deeper into the shadows, barely daring to move.

    If they found her...

    She inhaled slowly, silently, fingers twitching at her sides.

    A deep, guttural roar shatters the quiet, vibrating through the broken streets like a warning. Felicia''s breath catches in her throat.

    The two men freeze, their carefree banter vanishing in an instant. One of them swears under his breath, and the other grips his makeshift weapon¡ªa rusty crowbar¡ªtighter.

    "Shit," one mutters. "We should''ve known better than to be out this close to dark."

    Without hesitation, they abandon their looting and bolt, their hurried footsteps echoing against the cracked pavement. The door swings shut behind them with a hollow thud, leaving Felicia alone once more.

    She exhales, relieved. If the goblins are hunting, then the last thing she needs is to deal with other desperate survivors. People, she''s learned, can be just as dangerous as the monsters prowling the city.

    But that relief is short-lived.

    Felicia scans the dusty shelves, her fingers tightening around the straps of her backpack. The meager supplies here won''t do much good. Aunt May needs medicine, and none of what''s left in this abandoned gas station will help her. The hospital would have what she needs, but that place is crawling with goblins. A suicide mission.

    She bites her lip, pushing the thought away.

    There''s no time to dwell on it now. She grabs whatever food she can fit into her bag¡ªcans of soup, a few protein bars, anything that isn''t expired¡ªand hoists it onto her back.

    Then, cautiously, she creeps to the shattered doorway.

    Felicia presses her body against the rusted frame, peering out into the street. The city is a corpse of what it once was¡ªabandoned cars litter the roads, their windows smashed, their doors hanging open like broken jaws. Trash and debris clog the gutters. Storefronts are shattered, their contents long since ransacked. She listens, straining for any sound beyond the distant echoes of the city''s misery.

    Nothing.

    Keeping low, she slips from the gas station, pressing herself behind a rusted car. The metal is cold beneath her fingers as she steadies herself. Her heart pounds in her chest.

    She glances toward the horizon, where the sun has nearly disappeared beyond the jagged silhouettes of the ruined skyline. The sky is bruised with shades of deep orange and purple, the last dying light casting long, twisted shadows over the streets.

    The roar from earlier lingers in her mind, an unshakable reminder that she''s not alone out here.

    But the streets remain empty, at least for now.

    Felicia takes a breath, steadies herself, and begins the long journey back to Peter''s house.

    When she arrives, the house is eerily quiet, save for the soft beeping of the machines keeping Aunt May alive.

    Felicia wastes no time, slipping off her backpack and heading straight for May''s bedside. The older woman remains unconscious, her breathing steady but weak.

    Carefully, Felicia replaces the IV bag, checking the line to make sure it''s flowing properly. Then she wipes May''s face with a damp cloth, the same way she would with Peter when he''d come back from a fight and needed her to help take care of him.

    Felicia isn''t good at this kind of thing. Taking care of people. But May took her in when she had nowhere else to go. She gave Felicia a place to stay, treated her with kindness when the world hadn''t. It''s the least she can do.

    As she works, her thoughts drift.

    Peter and his aunt couldn''t have been more different from the life Felicia had known. Where her father was distant, always lost in his own world of whatever it was he was up to at night, May and Peter had been warm. Welcoming. Even after everything, even when she didn''t deserve it.

    Felicia swallows hard, pushing those thoughts away as she finishes up.

    Needing a moment, she steps out of May''s room and wanders upstairs, her boots making soft creaks against the old wooden steps.

    Peter''s room is just as he left it.

    She runs her fingers along his desk, brushing away the thin layer of dust that''s begun to settle. The room still smells faintly like him¡ªold books and laundry detergent, a scent that makes her chest tighten.

    Her eyes catch on a framed photo beside his bed.

    It''s Peter, younger, grinning beside an older man at what looks like a science fair. She picks it up, tracing her thumb over Peter''s stupid, nerdy smile.

    A small, bittersweet laugh escapes her.

    Even in the middle of an apocalypse, she can still picture him rambling on about some dumb old movie she''s never heard of.

    But then the ache creeps in.

    Her throat tightens, her grip on the frame trembling.

    Peter is gone.

    She''ll never see him again. Never hear his voice, never roll her eyes at his dorky jokes.

    She squeezes her eyes shut, but it doesn''t stop the tears from burning at the corners of her eyes.

    Felicia Hardy doesn''t cry.

    But tonight...once again, she does.

    She curls up on Peter''s empty bed, clutching the frame to her chest, and lets sleep take her.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The screams wake her.

    Felicia jolts upright, her heart hammering against her ribs.

    She''s on her feet before she even realizes what''s happening, her instincts taking over as she rushes to the window.

    Outside, the streets are bathed in darkness, but movement catches her eye.

    Two people¡ªa boy and a girl¡ªare running for their lives.

    Felicia''s breath catches.

    Then she sees what''s chasing them.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    A goblin.

    Even in the dim light, she can see the monstrous figure¡ªa hulking, grotesque mass of twisted flesh and unnatural limbs. It moves like a rabid animal, its elongated limbs clawing at the pavement as it barrels toward its prey.

    It roars, the sound rattling Felicia''s bones, and with terrifying ease, it sends a car flying across the street, metal crunching against concrete.

    Felicia swallows hard.

    She''s seen what these things do.

    They don''t just kill.

    They tear, they devour, they leave nothing behind but bloodstains and shredded remains.

    The boy and girl vanish into a nearby house, the goblin smashing through the door right after them, disappearing from view.

    Felicia curses under her breath.

    Her grip tightens into fists as she tries to think.

    She doesn''t have to do anything.

    She could stay here, wait for the screaming to stop, and go back to surviving. That''s the smart thing to do.

    But she knows exactly what Peter would have done.

    And the thought makes her laugh bitterly, because there isn''t even a question about it.

    "Stupid, self-sacrificing idiot," she mutters.

    Felicia turns away from the window and heads downstairs.

    She strides toward the cabinet near the front door and pulls it open. Inside, resting against the wood, is a shotgun.

    She stole it from an abandoned police car weeks ago, but she''s never actually used it.

    Her hands are shaking as she grabs it, her fingers fumbling with the shells as she tries to load them the way she''s seen in movies. A few drop to the floor, rolling across the old wooden boards. She exhales sharply, forcing herself to calm down, and loads the last round into place.

    The gun is still heavier than she expects.

    She grips it tightly, feeling the cold steel against her palm.

    Then, without another thought, she steps toward the door.

    And into the night.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Felicia stepped into the darkened street, shotgun gripped tight, her breath slow and measured. The neighborhood, once alive with the sounds of laughter, traffic, and the hum of everyday life, now lay in ruins¡ªhollowed-out buildings, shattered glass, overturned cars. It was as if the city itself had been abandoned by hope.

    She scanned the shadows, searching for any sign of movement, any lurking shape that might mean she wasn''t alone. Goblins rarely hunted alone. If one was here, more would follow.

    Nothing.

    Then, a scream tore through the silence.

    Felicia stiffened. It was the girl from before. A desperate, terrified sound that sent a chill up her spine.

    The goblin was still hunting.

    Steeling herself, she moved swiftly, her boots crunching over debris as she crossed the wrecked threshold of the house. The door was splintered, barely hanging onto its frame, and deeper inside, another hole gaped wide, leading into the backyard. She followed the destruction, her heartbeat a drum against her ribs.

    "Come on," she muttered under her breath, half a plea, half a challenge.

    She stepped into the backyard, where a fence had been completely caved in. More signs of the chase. More reminders of just how powerful these things were.

    "More clues. Yay," she muttered, her own voice hollow in the dark. Sarcasm did little to stop the dread creeping into her bones.

    She pressed forward, following the wreckage into the next house¡ªthis one just as broken as the last. Moving carefully, she stepped through the ruined entryway.

    And then she saw them.

    The boy stood between the goblin and the girl, clutching a broken chair like it was a sword. His hands shook, but he held his ground.

    "Get back! Stay away! Please! Please, go!" His voice cracked with terror.

    The goblin sneered, its grotesque features twisted in amusement. Then, with a single swipe, it batted him aside like a ragdoll. His body slammed into the wall with a sickening thud, and he crumpled to the floor. Blood smeared against the cracked wallpaper where his head struck.

    The girl screamed.

    Felicia didn''t think. She moved.

    She raised the shotgun and fired.

    The blast exploded through the goblin''s skull, the force knocking her back a step. Her arms trembled from the recoil, ears ringing, but she held her ground.

    The monster howled, writhing on the ground, thick green ichor pouring from the wound. It twisted in agony, clawing at the floor, trying to rise.

    Felicia pumped the shotgun, aimed again, and pulled the trigger.

    The second shot tore through its face.

    The goblin spasmed once, then stilled.

    Felicia kept the barrel trained on its unmoving corpse, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

    It shouldn''t have been that easy.

    These things were fast, brutal, relentless. She''d gotten lucky. More than lucky¡ªthis one had been alone.

    That wouldn''t last.

    She turned to the girl, who was still shaking, her face pale and tear-streaked.

    "It won''t be coming back," Felicia said, voice rough. "So get him up and get the hell out of here."

    The girl just stared at her, wide-eyed.

    "What?" she whispered.

    Felicia frowned, gesturing sharply toward the unconscious boy. "Did you not hear me? Get him up and go¡ª"

    Then, from the distance, a howl shattered the night.

    Felicia froze.

    Another roar, closer this time.

    Then another.

    And another.

    Her stomach dropped.

    The gunshot. The goblin''s dying screams.

    They had heard.

    Felicia turned back to the girl, urgency sharp in her tone. "Help me lift him¡ªnow!"

    But the girl wasn''t moving.

    She stood rooted in place, her entire body trembling. Her lips parted, but no words came out, just short, gasping breaths.

    "I¡ªI''m sorry."

    Felicia''s chest tightened. "What?"

    The girl turned.

    And ran.

    "Wait! What the hell are you¡ª?!"

    Too late.

    Felicia clenched her teeth. No time to be angry. No time for anything but survival.

    She dropped the shotgun and grabbed the boy''s arm, trying to hoist him up. He was deadweight, his unconscious body dragging against the floor.

    Outside, the pounding of monstrous footsteps shook the earth.

    "Come on!" she gritted out, pulling with everything she had. But he was too heavy. She tried dragging him, her legs straining, muscles burning.

    Then¡ª

    A scream.

    The girl.

    Felicia knew, without seeing, that it was already too late for her.

    Terror gripped her, but she didn''t stop. She yanked the boy''s limp form up the stairs, every second wasted another second closer to death.

    Outside, shadows moved.

    Goblins. More than one.

    A grotesque chorus of growls and screeches filled the air as they reached the house.

    Felicia reached the top of the stairs, breath coming in ragged gasps. Her eyes darted wildly, searching for anything¡ªanywhere.

    Then she saw it.

    A string hanging from the ceiling.

    An attic.

    She lunged for it, yanking hard. The stairs creaked as they unfolded, and she wasted no time pulling the boy up with her, her arms screaming in protest.

    She slipped, nearly losing her grip, her footing barely holding as the sound of shattering windows echoed below.

    They were inside.

    Felicia forced the boy up the last few steps, then hauled herself after him, scrambling into the attic just as something crashed into the walls below.

    She grabbed the attic door and pulled, her fingers slick with sweat, her pulse hammering against her skull.

    The moment it clicked shut, the house erupted with chaos.

    The goblins tore through the rooms below, knocking over furniture, clawing through debris. Their howls rattled the walls, monstrous and guttural, an orchestra of nightmares.

    Felicia pressed a hand over her mouth, heart slamming against her ribs.

    The attic was dark, the air thick with dust, her own breathing deafening in the silence.

    Below, the goblins searched, sniffing the air.

    Waiting.

    She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her pulse to slow.

    Don''t move. Don''t breathe. Don''t make a sound.

    They were monsters.

    But they were patient.

    And so, all she could do was wait.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Hours passed.

    Felicia sat in the darkness, every muscle wound tight, listening to the guttural growls and heavy footsteps as the creatures stalked through the ruined house below. Every scrape of claws against the floorboards sent a fresh wave of tension through her spine.

    But eventually, the sounds faded. The goblins, growing impatient, moved on in search of easier prey.

    Only then did she allow herself to breathe¡ªreally breathe.

    The air in the attic was thick with dust, and her throat burned from holding back coughs. She shifted, rolling her shoulders before crawling over to the unconscious boy.

    With a quick slap to his face, she tried to rouse him.

    Nothing.

    She slapped him again¡ªharder this time.

    He sucked in a sharp breath and jolted upright, eyes wide and frantic. His head whipped around, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings. "W-Where am I? Who are you?"

    Felicia sat back on her heels, unimpressed. "Attic. Felicia. Question time''s over. Now it''s my turn¡ªwhat the hell were you doing running around out there? Trying to get yourself killed?"

    The boy blinked at her, still dazed. He reached up, wincing as his fingers brushed the fresh bruise on his temple. "I¡ªuh¡ª" He swallowed, as if trying to pull his thoughts together. "I was looking for food. For our group. Amy and I were¡ª"

    His breath hitched.

    "Amy."

    His gaze darted around the attic, panic rising. "Where is she?"

    Felicia crossed her arms, her voice flat. "Took off the second she heard those things coming. Guess she didn''t care all that much about what happened to you."

    The boy''s shoulders slumped. He exhaled a weak, bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Maybe... maybe she got away then."

    Felicia scoffed. "Yeah. Probably made it about five feet before those things tore her apart. I mean, she heard them coming and just ran right out there. It was stupid. And selfish."

    He didn''t respond to that. "I didn''t know her that well, but still."

    Felicia watched him for a moment, then sighed. "What''s your name?"

    "Conner."

    She tapped her foot against the wooden floor, considering him. "Alright, Conner. You said you were with a group. Are they well-armed? Got supplies? Medicine?"

    Conner hesitated. His brow furrowed, like he wasn''t sure how much to say. Felicia could see the gears turning in his head¡ªwas she trustworthy? Did she save his life out of kindness or because she wanted something?

    He must''ve decided that, at the very least, she wasn''t an immediate threat.

    "It''s a big group," he admitted. "Mostly people who got left behind. Some stragglers from around the city, some who missed the evacuation buses. Even a few military guys who stayed behind. We''ve got weapons. Enough to defend ourselves. As for medicine... I don''t know. We''ve got a medical tent, some nurses, a couple of doctors." He shrugged. "That''s about all I know."

    Felicia narrowed her eyes. If what he said was true, this could be the opportunity she''d been waiting for.

    "How far?"

    "Couple miles. We''re holed up in an underground subway station." Conner hesitated. "You... you can come with me. If you want."

    Felicia didn''t answer right away. Her mind was already spinning through possibilities. She couldn''t take May out there in her condition, not on a ''maybe.'' She had to see this place for herself first¡ªmake sure it was as safe as Conner claimed.

    She didn''t know him. He could be leading her into a trap. Could be taking her straight to a group of people worse than the monsters outside.

    But what choice did she have?

    "Yeah," she finally said. "Okay. I''ll go." She stood, dusting off her pants. "But first, I need to make a stop."

    She''d return to Peter''s house. Replace May''s IV. Feed her. Make sure she was stable.

    Then, and only then, would she see if this so-called safe haven was worth the risk.

    Because if it wasn''t, she''d find another way.

    She always did.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Felicia had told Conner she''d meet him back at the house after taking care of May, not that she told him what she''d be doing. Honestly, she half-expected him to be gone by the time she returned. She wouldn''t have blamed him¡ªshe was a stranger, a risk, and in this world, trust was more dangerous than the creatures lurking in the dark.

    But he was still there.

    She found him pacing near the broken window, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes flicking toward the street every few seconds. The way his shoulders relaxed when he saw her almost made her feel guilty for doubting him. Almost.

    With a bag of supplies slung over her shoulder and fresh shells loaded into the shotgun, they set off toward his so-called safe haven.

    Felicia made sure to stay behind him, never beside. It was easier to watch him that way¡ªeasier to keep her thoughts from drifting. May had everything she needed for now, but it wasn''t enough. She needed more supplies, more medicine. More certainty. That was the only reason Felicia was here.

    Nothing more.

    The city was silent as they moved through its ruins, the occasional gust of wind kicking up loose paper and ash. Skeletons of burnt-out cars lined the roads, their frames rusted and abandoned, remnants of a time when people thought they still had a chance.

    "So..." Conner''s voice broke the silence. "You got any family?"

    Felicia didn''t answer right away. She kept her eyes on their surroundings, her fingers curled tight around the shotgun''s grip.

    Conner cleared his throat. "I mean, you don''t have to talk about it. Just, y''know... figured I''d ask."

    Felicia sighed. "Not sure." It wasn''t a lie. When she returned to her Father''s home after the city fell, all she found was silence and dust. No body. No note. Just... nothing.

    Conner nodded, as if he understood. Maybe he did.

    "Also, shut up," she muttered. "They could hear you."

    He let out a low chuckle, but obeyed, adjusting the strap of his own bag as they pressed on.

    By the time they reached the entrance of the subway station, Felicia''s gut was tight with unease. She hesitated at the top of the stairs, scanning the darkness below. Her fingers twitched near the trigger.

    A trap?

    She wouldn''t have been surprised.

    "You first," she said, nodding toward the steps.

    Conner glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow. "Are you that worried I''ll do something?"

    "Just being smart."

    He huffed. "You know, you''re kinda paranoid."

    "Not sure how being smart makes me paranoid, but sure. Now go." She said, motioning with her shotgun.

    Conner opened his mouth to argue, then shook his head with a smirk and started down the stairs.

    At the base of the station, the air was damp and stale, thick with the scent of mildew and unwashed bodies. Two flashlights flickered to life ahead of them, the beams cutting through the darkness like knives.

    "Stop!" A voice barked. "Drop the weapon. Now."

    Felicia''s jaw tightened. She could take them¡ªshe knew she could¡ªbut she had no idea how many others were waiting beyond the light. She exhaled sharply through her nose, then lowered the shotgun to the ground and raised her hands.

    "She''s with me," Conner interjected, his voice steadier than she expected. "I was authorized for a scouting trip. I signed out¡ªcheck the log. Name''s Conner Tragar."

    One of the guards¡ªburly, buzz-cut, with a permanent scowl¡ªgrunted and disappeared into one of the train cars. The other kept his weapon trained on them, eyes cold and calculating.

    Felicia fought the urge to shift her weight. She hated being cornered.

    Minutes passed. Then the first guard returned, nodding to his partner. "He checks out."

    "You''re late," the second guard said, finally lowering his gun. "Cut-off was hours ago. You''re lucky something didn''t rip you apart out there."

    Conner chuckled lightly. "Yeah, lucky."

    The first guard bent down and picked up Felicia''s shotgun, inspecting it before shaking his head. "This stays with us."

    Felicia bristled. "That''s mine."

    "Not anymore. Any weapon found outside goes straight to the vault. We don''t need civvies running around shooting themselves or each other."

    Felicia clenched her teeth, but she wasn''t stupid enough to push it. She''d get it back. One way or another.

    "Are we done?" she asked, voice flat.

    The guard sighed, then finally stepped aside, opening the train car door. "Move."

    Felicia followed Conner through. The interior of the subway cars was dimly lit by strings of weak, flickering bulbs. The stale air was thick with the smell of sweat, dirt, and desperation.

    People lined the walls, wrapped in filthy blankets, their faces gaunt and hollow-eyed. Some sat in clusters, whispering in hushed tones. Others simply stared at nothing, lost in the kind of exhaustion that had nothing to do with sleep.

    Felicia''s stomach turned.

    Peter fought so hard to keep this city standing. He bled for it, sacrificed for it. If he could see what had become of it now... she wasn''t sure he''d ever forgive himself.

    Conner led her further in, past the makeshift camps, the piles of rationed supplies, the dim glow of a small fire burning in a rusted barrel. He walked with a casual ease, offering nods to a few familiar faces, flashing that same crooked smirk that probably made people believe things weren''t as bad as they actually were.

    Felicia saw through it.

    "It''s not much," he admitted, finally stopping near an empty corner. "But it''s safe. And it''s all we''ve got for now."

    Felicia crossed her arms, watching him. "You say that like you''re trying to convince me."

    Conner chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I am. I mean, I know you''ve got that whole ''lone wolf'' thing going on, and I figure I should get ahead of the inevitable ''I don''t need anyone'' speech."

    Felicia raised an eyebrow. "It definitely beats running around out there."

    "Y-Yeah." Conner said, rubbing his arm.

    Felicia huffed, shifting her weight as she scanned the dimly lit subway car. It checked out¡ªmore or less. The place was cramped, dirty, and reeked of unwashed bodies, but it was safe. At least safer than the streets. That much was obvious.

    The problem was May.

    Even if this place was secure, even if they had supplies, she had no clue how she was supposed to get May out here. The thought alone made her stomach twist.

    Conner, watching her carefully, exhaled and softened his tone. "Look... I know it''s been rough out there. But you don''t have to do it alone anymore. You can stay here. Get some rest."

    Felicia didn''t answer.

    Because the truth was, she didn''t know how to.

    Then¡ª

    "Felicia?"

    She turned sharply, breath catching in her throat.

    That voice.

    It was familiar in a way that made her chest tighten, a sound she hadn''t heard in what felt like lifetimes.

    Now, it was different. Weaker. Fragile. Like it had been stripped down to nothing but raw desperation.

    Felicia''s eyes landed on her, and for a second, she thought she was seeing a ghost.

    "Stacy...?" Her voice came out quieter than she expected. "You''re... alive?"

    Gwen Stacy stood in front of her, but she wasn''t the Gwen Felicia remembered.

    Her hair hung in uneven, greasy strands, framing a face that had lost the softness it once held. Her eyes, once bright and sharp, were darker now¡ªhollow in a way that made Felicia''s stomach twist. Her skin was smeared with dirt, her clothes ragged, hanging off her frame like they belonged to someone else.

    But then¡ªjust for a second¡ªsomething flickered in her gaze. A spark. A tiny, fragile thing.

    Hope.

    Before Felicia could react, Gwen gripped her arms, fingers digging in as if trying to ground herself in something real.

    "Please..." Gwen''s voice trembled, her lips parting as if the words physically hurt to say. "Tell me¡ª" She swallowed hard, eyes searching Felicia''s face for something, anything. "Have you¡ª"

    Her breath hitched.

    Tears, unbidden and unchecked, slipped down her grime-covered cheeks. She barely seemed to notice.

    "Have you seen Peter?" The words cracked, barely a whisper. "You were¡ªYou were living with him, so you must know. Is he¡ª"

    She couldn''t finish the sentence.

    Felicia felt her own throat tighten, her pulse hammering in her ears.

    She could lie.

    She wanted to lie.

    Because looking at Gwen now¡ªstanding there like a shattered version of herself, holding onto hope like it was the only thing keeping her upright¡ªFelicia wasn''t sure she had it in her to break her.

    But the truth was already there, hanging between them like a weight she couldn''t escape.

    Felicia clenched her jaw, forcing herself to hold Gwen''s gaze.

    How could she say it?

    When she could barely accept it herself?

    Peter Parker is dead.

 Goblin City (Part Two)

    I am trapped in an endless dream.

    Fire consumes the world around me. Screams twist through the smoke, swallowed by the roar of something vast, something unstoppable. Death lingers in the air, thick and suffocating.

    I fight. I always fight.

    And I lose.

    Again.

    And again.

    And again.

    Until death finds me too¡ªlike it was always meant to.

    It''s inevitable.

    And yet... there''s something worse. A feeling that coils around my spine, something familiar.

    I know this fear.

    I know it from the night I held my uncle in my arms, felt the warmth leave his body, watched the light in his eyes flicker out. A helpless, terrified boy¡ªfrozen as the world slipped through his fingers.

    That boy never left me.

    And now, he whispers.

    She will die too.

    I try to silence him. Try to crush the voice under the weight of willpower alone. But the truth won''t be denied.

    Even with all my strength, all my speed, all my power¡ªI can''t stop death.

    I can''t save everyone.

    But if I ever stop trying¡ªif I ever let that fear win¡ªthen I become something worse than powerless.

    I become nothing.

    I am Spider-Man.

    Fear should have no hold over me.

    And yet...

    All things end.

    Even stars burn out.

    ~~~

    My eyes flutter open, slow and heavy, like they haven''t moved in years. The world around me is blurred, its colors muted, the air thick with the sterile sting of chemicals and something burnt¡ªash?

    Something is wrong.

    I try to breathe, but my chest feels tight, foreign. My lungs protest as if they''ve forgotten how to function. My throat is dry, my tongue like sandpaper against the roof of my mouth.

    My fingers twitch. Or at least, I think they do. I can''t feel them. My limbs are weightless, detached¡ªlike I''m not inside my own body anymore.

    Where am I?

    Who am I?

    A cold tremor grips my chest. But then¡ªlike a flicker of light in the darkness¡ª

    Peter.

    I''m Peter.

    Peter Parker.

    The name is familiar. Mine. But it feels distant, like something I have to reach for. Like I''m piecing myself back together, memory by memory.

    I force my eyes to stay open. I fight against the pull of unconsciousness, but it drags at me like an undertow. My thoughts swim through molasses, slow and disoriented.

    Then, I notice the tubes.

    IV lines snaking from my arms. Machines humming softly at my bedside. A heart monitor beeping in a steady rhythm¡ªone that matches the sluggish thud in my chest.

    I try to move. My legs won''t listen. My arms feel like dead weight. Panic stirs in my gut.

    What''s happening to me?

    And then¡ªlike a lightning strike¡ª

    The lab.

    The corpses.

    Norman.

    My heartbeat stutters. The beeping of the monitor quickens. Images rush in, jarring and violent.

    The gas leaking into the city.

    The screams.

    The fight¡ªNorman''s eyes wild with something inhuman.

    The blade plunging into my chest.

    The fall.

    I suck in a sharp breath, my vision swimming as I look down. Bandages. Wrapped tightly around my torso.

    I should be dead.

    I was dying.

    Why am I here?

    My body trembles as another realization claws its way to the surface.

    May. Gwen. Harry. Felicia.

    Are they¡ª?

    Are they alive?

    The monitor beeps faster. My pulse races.

    I fight to lift my body, to move even an inch. Nothing. My limbs remain unresponsive, dead weight on the bed.

    No. No, no, no.

    Move.

    Get up.

    Please!

    I grit my teeth, pushing against the weakness, the fog, the overwhelming wrongness of it all.

    Then¡ª

    The door creaks open.

    "Mr. Spider. Y-You''re finally awake."

    The voice is shaky, uncertain, and as the door creaks open further, I realize I''m not prepared for what''s standing there.

    A man.

    Or at least, half of one.

    The other half... isn''t human.

    The mutation is grotesque¡ªhis flesh twisted into something unnatural. His right arm is elongated, the skin stretched and almost reptilian, his fingers clawed and twitching like they have a mind of their own. His face is split¡ªone side normal, the other warped, his eye sunken and glowing faintly.

    I swallow hard, my throat dry and scratchy, but I don''t look away. I''ve seen monsters before. Plenty of them. But this¡ªthis is something else.

    The man steps closer, hesitantly, his posture hunched like he''s unsure if he should even be here. His hand moves over the heart monitor beside me, adjusting something with a clawed fingertip.

    "I¡ªI can''t believe you''re finally awake." He speaks with an odd reverence, like he''s witnessing something impossible. "Yes, this is... quite unprecedented."

    I try to open my mouth, to ask who he is, where I am, what the hell is going on¡ªbut my voice betrays me. Only a choked rasp comes out.

    The man¡ªcreature?¡ªwinces at the sound but quickly shakes it off. He forces a smile, though it twitches at the edges, like even he isn''t sure it belongs on his face.

    "T-That''s okay, Mr. Spider. Speaking... and¡ªand even moving, well..." He waves his warped hand in the air vaguely. "Those things will come back to you soon."

    He takes a cautious step toward me.

    "Your body... it''s healed rather well in all this time. Yes, when I found you, I was certain you''d met your end. But, here you are." A vague memory enters my mind, and I see him¡ªthis man, on the table merely moments before I''d encountered Norman.

    But something about what he said just now...

    ...All this time?

    How long have I been here?

    A pit forms in my stomach.

    Norman.

    Norman Osborn.

    He''s out there. He''s out there, and he knows everyone that matters to me.

    May. Gwen. Harry.

    Felicia.

    I can''t waste time. I have to¡ª

    I try to move.

    My body doesn''t respond.

    Not even an inch.

    My arms feel like dead weight. My legs don''t even register as mine.

    Panic rises in my chest, sharp and suffocating.

    The man watches me struggle but doesn''t intervene. Instead, he nods, as if he expected this.

    "Please," he says, "take your time. Get your strength back. After all..." His voice drops to something softer, something almost worshipful.

    "You''re the one who will save us all."

    I freeze.

    His sunken eye flickers with something unreadable. He nods again, firmer this time, as if convincing himself.

    "Yes." His voice is steadier now. "You are the one who will save us all."

    My stomach twists.

    Then it growls.

    Loudly.

    The man¡ªwhatever he is¡ªchuckles, a sound that''s oddly human despite everything. "Ah. I hadn''t yet gotten around to feeding you, Mr. Spider." He rubs his hands together, his sharp nails clicking against one another. "Thankfully, now that you''re awake, we''ll no longer have to use the tube."

    The tube?

    I don''t even want to know.

    "I¡ªI''ll fix you something worthy of the Amazing Spider-Man." His grin widens. "Yes... won''t be but a moment."

    And with that, he turns and exits, leaving me alone with the beeping machines and my own spiraling thoughts.

    This must be where Norman''s been keeping me.

    Everyone must be worried.

    If they''re even...

    No.

    They''re alive.

    They have to be.

    And right now¡ªI am too.

    I close my eyes.

    I can''t move my body. Not yet. But I can start small.

    Toes.

    I focus. Try to wiggle them.

    Nothing.

    Fingers.

    I concentrate harder. A pulse of determination burns in my chest.

    Nothing.

    My head spins, nausea creeping up my throat. The effort is exhausting, draining me faster than I thought possible.

    But I refuse to stop.

    Come on, Parker.

    I grit my teeth, inhaling sharply.

    One more time.

    I focus everything on my fingertips.

    And then¡ª

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    A flicker.

    The faintest twitch.

    Barely anything.

    But it''s something.

    A shaky breath escapes me. I press forward.

    The fingers curl slightly. Then again. And then¡ª

    A fist.

    It''s weak, trembling, but it''s real.

    I let out a breathless laugh, though it comes out more like a rasp. I can''t even smile properly¡ªmy face muscles are too damn tired.

    But I don''t care.

    I did it.

    The relief is overwhelming, but I don''t stop. I move up to my arms, dragging my hand toward my face. My fingertip brushes my cheek¡ª

    Numb.

    Like it isn''t even mine.

    The sensation is unnerving, but I force myself to relax. One step at a time.

    I let my arm drop onto my chest, exhaling shakily. My throat burns, but I push through.

    "I..." My voice is hoarse, raw. "...I...I..." It barely sounds like me.

    It''s like scraping years of rust off an old pipe, thick with grime and gunk.

    "I... did it."

    I close my eyes again. Let myself feel the progress.

    But I''m not done.

    I push harder, forcing more of my body to respond. Bit by bit, I manage to sit up, my muscles screaming in protest. I stare down at my hands, flexing my fingers experimentally.

    "...Talk... talk..." My throat still feels raw, but I keep going. "Talk... talkity-talk talk... talking... I''m talking."

    A weak, lopsided grin tugs at my lips.

    Next step.

    Walking.

    I shift my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet hitting the cold floor. The chill shoots up my spine, but I embrace it. It means I can feel.

    I take a breath. Steady myself.

    Then I push up.

    Instantly, my legs buckle.

    I hit the floor with a hard thud.

    Pain flares up my back, dull but insistent.

    I groan, rolling onto my side. Okay. Maybe not that easy.

    I grit my teeth and try again, this time using the bed as support. My muscles shake with the effort, but slowly, slowly, I push myself upright.

    I''m standing.

    "P-Peter Parker, is¡ªis...standing."

    It''s wobbly. My knees feel like they could give at any second. But I hold on.

    I release my grip on the bed.

    For a second, I think I have it.

    "I can do this."

    Then¡ª

    My leg gives out.

    I pitch forward.

    The floor rushes up to meet me.

    And all I can think before impact is¡ª

    THUD.

    ...Ow.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "I¡ªI know you must be quite frustrated with your lack of control," the stranger says, his voice unsure, like he''s choosing each word carefully. "Your body just... just needs time. Yes, time to find its footing again."

    He rolls a cart up to the side of my bed, a tray of food balanced on top.

    I don''t touch it.

    Instead, I stare at him. Directly.

    "W¡ª" My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. It still feels raw. "Who are you? Or... what are you?"

    I don''t need to clarify. The question lingers between us, aimed at the twisted, grotesque half of his body.

    For a moment, his expression flickers¡ªlike he''s not sure how to answer. Then, finally, he speaks.

    "I''m called Virgil Clovis. Or, I was? Am." He blinks rapidly, his words stumbling over themselves. "I¡ªHe¡ªI mean, I. I worked for Mr. Osborn. He employed him¡ªme. He employed me, and many others, to work on a project which he instructed him¡ªinstructed me, not to discuss. Yes, could not discuss."

    His hands twitch as he opens a nearby drawer, pulling out a small bottle.

    I know exactly what it is before I even get a good look.

    Goblin Pills.

    My fingers curl into a fist, shaking as Norman''s voice echoes in my head.

    "I have to thank you, Peter."

    "You changed my life. Helped me see what needed to be done. In the end, you were the key to everything."

    My breathing is sharp, uneven. My nails dig into my palm. The pain helps me focus. I lower my head, trying to push his voice out of my mind.

    Virgil notices my reaction and quickly stammers, "Please, do not be alarmed. He¡ªHe is no longer¡ªNo, I am no longer under his employment."

    I lift my head slightly, my mind racing.

    Is he trying to tell me that Norman isn''t the reason I''m still here? I shake my head. It doesn''t matter. None of this matters.

    Norman is still out there.

    And he knows.

    He knows who I am. He knows the people I love. He''s had who knows how long to do God-knows-what.

    My pulse pounds in my ears as I throw my legs off the side of the bed, forcing my body to move even as my muscles scream in protest.

    "None of this matters right now," I say through gritted teeth. "He''s out there." I plant my feet on the cold floor. My legs tremble, but I push forward. "I''ve got to take him out. Kill him if I have to. Who knows what he''s done already? I have to¡ª"

    Virgil steps forward, placing a hand on my shoulder.

    "Mr. Spider," he says, voice quiet.

    Something in his tone stops me cold.

    "I''m afraid you''re too late."

    My breath catches in my throat.

    A slow, creeping sense of dread curls around my spine.

    "What are you talking about?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "Too late for what?"

    Virgil doesn''t answer.

    He turns his gaze away, his hands twitching at his sides.

    And just like that, the rage that had been buried deep inside me¡ªthe rage I''d swallowed down for so long¡ªcomes roaring back to the surface.

    The rage I felt when Norman defeated me.

    The rage I felt when he threatened and hurt them.

    The rage I''ve never allowed myself to act on.

    I grab Virgil by the shoulders, squeezing hard.

    "Tell me!" I snarl, my voice cracking with something raw, something ugly. "Why is it too late?!"

    He flinches, his body tensing under my grip.

    "I¡ªI''m sorry, Mr. Spider," he stammers. He recoils, backing into the wall, his glowing eye flickering with something that looks almost like... pity. "I had hoped to tell you this in a less shocking manner. You''ve only just woken up, and already, you can speak, you can move. I thought that in time, I could help you see the new reality we''ve found ourselves in."

    My fingers twitch.

    I want to shake him. I want to force the words out of him.

    But I don''t.

    I take a shaky breath, swallowing down the rage before it consumes me.

    "Just tell me," I say, voice hoarse. "I need to know."

    Virgil''s shoulders relax slightly, and his expression softens.

    "The night you fell into this place..." he says quietly, "...I saved your life. I''d awoken from whatever Experiment Mr. Osborn had done to me. And found you there, your head bleeding from your fall, and...well that wound¡ª" He points to my chest. "¡ªApologies for removing your mask, but I needed to save you. You are after all, New York''s Spider-Man. But..."

    He hesitates, like he doesn''t want to say the next part.

    But he does.

    "That was five months ago."

    My stomach drops.

    Virgil''s voice is barely above a whisper now.

    "Which was when this city... fell to Norman Osborn."

    Silence.

    Thick. Heavy. Suffocating.

    I don''t breathe.

    I don''t blink.

    I don''t move.

    Five months.

    Five.

    Months.

    Norman has had five months.

    To run unchecked.

    To burn the city to the ground.

    To kill them.

    A sudden, sickening realization slams into me like a freight train¡ª

    I don''t even know if they''re still alive.

    And I have no idea what kind of world I''ve woken up to.

    "Take me outside," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, but firm.

    Virgil steps toward me cautiously. "Mr. Spider, I don''t think¡ª"

    "I''ll go by myself then."

    I push myself off the bed, ignoring the way my legs threaten to give out beneath me. The anger in my chest keeps me upright, pushing me forward even as my muscles scream in protest. Virgil reaches out, trying to steady me, but I shove him¡ªhard¡ªsending him stumbling into the desk.

    "Get off me!" My voice cracks. "They¡ªthey need me! I can''t stay here!"

    Virgil straightens, rubbing his shoulder where I shoved him. His expression is unreadable, but there''s something in his eyes¡ªsomething close to sympathy.

    "I¡ªI understand," he says slowly, carefully. "But beware¡ªyou may not like what you find out there."

    I don''t listen. I don''t care. I force my legs to move, stumbling toward the door of the small room.

    I hesitate just long enough to glance back. "Where''s the exit?"

    Virgil sighs. "To your right. All the way down, then take a left. You''ll find it. But¡ª"

    I don''t wait to hear the rest. I push forward, my breath ragged as I limp into the dimly lit hallway.

    Every step feels heavier than the last, but I keep going. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, in sync with my hurried, uneven footsteps. The walls blur past me, but I barely see them.

    All I see are their faces.

    May.

    My hands tremble as I press against the wall for balance. Oh God, May. Please. Please tell me you''re okay.

    Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to stop.

    Gwen.

    A sharp pain lances through my chest.

    I should''ve told her. I should''ve said something¡ªanything. But I didn''t. I ran. Hid behind a mask, behind my fear.

    And now... I don''t even know if she''s still¡ª

    I swallow hard. Keep moving.

    Harry.

    Did you know? Did you know what your father was turning into? Did you try to stop him?

    Are you even still...

    I shake my head, forcing the thought away.

    Felicia.

    I let her down. I let everyone down.

    I push through the pain. Through the weight pressing down on my chest, suffocating me.

    And then, finally¡ª

    I reach the exit.

    With shaking hands, I push open the doors.

    The moment I step outside, a violent gust of wind blasts against me, kicking up thick clouds of dust. I stumble back, shielding my face as my eyes burn. The light¡ªtoo bright after months in darkness¡ªblinds me for a moment, turning everything into a hazy, indistinct blur.

    Then... it settles.

    And I see it.

    Or what''s left of it.

    The city I once knew¡ª

    Gone.

    The skyline is choked in thick, black smoke, twisting into the sky like a living thing. Fires rage in the distance, swallowing entire buildings whole. The streets, once alive with movement, are silent. Dead. Cars overturned, their husks burned out. The roads cracked, littered with debris.

    This isn''t my New York.

    It''s something else. Something unrecognizable.

    Something I let happen.

    I stand there, breathless, as the weight of it all crashes down on me at once.

    I wasn''t here. I wasn''t there.

    I should''ve fought harder. Should''ve stopped him when I had the chance.

    This¡ªthis nightmare¡ªthis is my fault.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Gwen sets her fork down, watching Felicia carefully. "So, you''ve been out there all alone? I¡ªI can''t even imagine."

    Felicia nods, chewing her food with the kind of disinterest that tells Gwen she''s done this a thousand times before. "Yeah, it sucks. But what about you? How''d you end up here?"

    Gwen hesitates. The memory of those early days claws at the back of her mind, but she shoves it down, pressing her hands into her lap. "My family and I... we were supposed to leave with the other evacuees. But our truck was attacked." Her throat tightens as the words leave her. Don''t think about it. Don''t think about the screaming, the blood, the way they tore people apart¡ª

    She swallows hard. "We ran. We hid in some convenience store for what felt like forever, until the military found us. They brought us here, and... we''ve been here ever since."

    Felicia taps her fingers on the table, glancing around the underground subway station¡ªthe flickering lights, the makeshift tents, the people huddled together, trying to turn this place into something resembling home.

    "Not the worst place to be," she admits. "Especially these days."

    Gwen barely hears her. Something else claws at her mind, something she isn''t sure she wants to bring up but can''t let go. "Felicia... what you said, about¡ª" She hesitates, hating the way her chest aches just thinking about it. "¡ªabout Peter. Are you sure? I mean, is there any chance¡ª"

    Felicia doesn''t even look at her. "No. I''m sorry. He''s gone."

    She says it flatly, without hesitation. But Gwen can tell¡ªshe isn''t as sure as she wants to be.

    Still, the words knock the air from Gwen''s lungs.

    She bites the inside of her cheek, fighting the sting of tears.

    She should be grateful. Her mother and brother are still alive. She is still alive. Not long ago, she lost her father¡ªbut Peter was still there. He''d always been there. And if anyone could survive this nightmare, she thought it would be him.

    But Felicia claims to have seen it.

    To see her Peter...die.

    Gwen clenches her fists under the table. "I¡ªI know you think he''s dead. I mean did you...did you see him...die?"

    Felicia scoffs. "I don''t think. I know." She meets Gwen''s eyes then, and for the first time, there''s something raw in them. "I may not have seen it myself, but just...just trust me. Peter''s gone. And I''ve had to live with that for the past five months. I''m sorry you had to hear it like that, but there''s nothing that can be done about it now."

    Gwen wants to argue, wants to tell her she''s wrong, but¡ª

    Felicia doesn''t look like she''s ready to accept it either. So she decides to leave it.

    The silence between them stretches until a voice cuts through it.

    "Is this a bad time?"

    Both girls turn to see a boy standing in front of them, a dented can of beans clutched in his hand like it''s his last possession on Earth.

    Connor.

    Felicia blinks a few times, then frowns. "Oh. You''re that kid."

    Connor chuckles. "Nice to know I made an impression." He pulls out a chair, sitting across from them. "Just wanted to check in. And see if you''ve decided yet."

    Gwen glances between them. "Decided? Wait, you''re not staying?"

    Felicia exhales through her nose. She debates lying, brushing it off, but something in Gwen''s face makes her think twice. If anyone deserves to know the truth, it''s the girl Peter loved.

    "It''s May," she says finally.

    Gwen freezes. "...May? What about her? Don''t tell me¡ª"

    "She''s alive."

    Gwen''s breath catches in her throat.

    Felicia leans back in her chair, staring down at her hands as if seeing that day play out all over again. "I got her out of the hospital before the staff abandoned her. Brought her back to Peter''s place. Been keeping her alive ever since."

    Gwen can barely process the words. For the first time in months, something like hope sparks in her chest.

    "She''s alive?" The words barely leave her lips before a small, genuine smile breaks through. "That''s¡ªThat''s amazing! Where is she?"

    Felicia sighs. "At Peter''s apartment. But the equipment I got from the hospital won''t last forever. I can''t just find the stuff I need anywhere, and going back to the hospital?" She shakes her head. "Too far. Too risky. May''s the last family Peter has left. After everything he sacrificed, I just... I had to do this for him."

    Gwen''s expression shifts. "Everything he sacrificed?" she echoes, confused.

    Felicia hesitates but says nothing.

    Connor, clearly feeling out of place, clears his throat. "Well... you could bring her here. There''s plenty of medical supplies. I''m part of the scavenging team, and we''ve found abandoned military trucks that didn''t make it out before they quarantined the city."

    "That was the plan," Felicia admits. "But moving her? That''s a problem. I barely got her out the first time, and rolling a hospital bed through the city again? Not happening. I only made it the first time because the Goblins were too busy eating everyone else."

    Gwen swallows hard but forces herself to nod. "Then we bring her back. Together."

    Felicia raises an eyebrow. "We?"

    Gwen sets her jaw. "I''m going with you. I don''t care what you say¡ªshe''s important to me too."

    Felicia smirks. "Fine by me. But what''s your family gonna say?"

    Gwen falters. Her mother has barely let her out of her sight since they got here.

    "...She won''t know," she decides. "If everything goes right, we''ll be back before she even notices I''m gone."

    Connor, gripping his can of beans a little tighter, clears his throat. "I, uh... I should go too."

    Felicia shoots him a look. "Why?"

    He shrugs. "You saved my life. Least I can do is return the favor."

    Felicia rolls her eyes. "Alright, whatever. But we leave soon. This is the longest I''ve left her alone, and I don''t want to risk it by waiting any longer." She stands, tossing what''s left of her food onto the table. "Grab what you need. We head out before sundown."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "This... can''t be real..."

    The words barely escape my lips, a whisper swallowed by the weight pressing down on my chest. I stand frozen, staring at the shattered world before me¡ªthe world I failed to save.

    How many?

    How many people have already died?

    The little hope I had of seeing everyone again flickers out the moment I step outside those doors. And now, unable to stomach the sight of my own failure, I retreat inside, sinking against the cold, cracked wall of the facility. My head falls back, my hands limp at my sides, my entire body numb.

    What''s left for Peter Parker to do?

    "I''m sorry."

    The voice is familiar, hesitant.

    I don''t need to look up to know it''s Virgil. His footsteps are careful as he approaches, like he thinks I might break apart if he moves too quickly.

    "It... it wasn''t how I would''ve wished for you to find out the truth," he says softly.

    I clench my hands into fists, the rage bubbling inside me like boiling tar. My breathing grows uneven, heat creeping up my neck, and before I can stop myself, I''m on my feet. The sudden movement makes my vision swim, but I don''t care¡ªI grab Virgil by his torn collar and yank him forward, barely inches from my face.

    "You helped him do this, didn''t you?" I spit the words through gritted teeth. "You worked on those pills with him!"

    Virgil doesn''t fight back. He doesn''t even flinch.

    "If it wasn''t for you," I hiss, my grip tightening, "or¡ªor any of you monsters who helped him¡ª"

    I can''t even finish the sentence. The lump in my throat threatens to choke me. The sting of tears burns behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.

    "None of this would''ve happened," I whisper.

    Virgil lets out a slow, unsteady breath. "Y-Yes, I''m aware of my role in this," he admits, voice raw. "At the time, we were promised that our work would help save millions of lives. It was only too late that my team and I realized the truth... where the pills were really going. What they were really being used for."

    I laugh. A dry, bitter laugh.

    "So, what? I''m supposed to believe you''re just some victim in all of this?" My voice wavers with fury. "That you''re innocent?"

    Virgil swallows hard, but he doesn''t answer.

    My grip tightens even further, my knuckles turning white. "No. You helped him. You helped him do this. I should¡ª"

    The words die on my tongue.

    I should... what?

    What do I want to do?

    Kill him?

    Like I wanted to kill Norman.

    I should have.

    I should have killed him when I had the chance.

    Norman was right about one thing. I have power. And maybe... maybe I have been wasting it.

    How many people have died because I refused to cross the line? Because I let Dr. Octavius and his freak show live? Because I spared them?

    Captain Stacy could still be with Gwen if I hadn''t been so weak.

    Uncle Ben...

    I shut my eyes, jaw clenching painfully.

    That day, with the man who killed Uncle Ben¡ªif I had stopped him, really stopped him, broken his arm, shattered his leg, used my power instead of holding back¡ª

    How many lives would have been saved?

    Norman has always thought I was weak. That this power was wasted on me.

    And maybe he''s right.

    I try to do the right thing. I try to be the person Uncle Ben raised me to be.

    But what if that''s not enough?

    Even police officers kill¡ªwhen they have to.

    With great power comes great responsibility.

    I have great power. And I had a responsibility¡ªto my loved ones, to this city.

    To stop this from happening.

    And I didn''t.

    I open my eyes, the fire inside me burning hotter than ever, and glare into Virgil''s face. My grip on his collar loosens, but my voice is cold and sharp.

    "Where is he now?"

    Virgil hesitates, shifting slightly. "M-Mr. Osborn hasn''t returned to this facility since the day he released the gas into the city. If I were to take a guess, he would most likely be trying to create more. But this time... enough to cover everything else."

    My stomach churns.

    He''s not done yet.

    I let go of Virgil and step back, dragging a hand down my face. The weight of everything crushes me, suffocating, pressing into my ribs like a vice.

    "This is just..." My fingers dig into my temple. "...It''s insane." My breath shakes. "How did everything go so wrong?" I force myself to stand taller. I can''t let this paralyze me. "I need to fix this. I have to fix this."

    Virgil clears his throat. "I¡ªI''ve worked for months... even used your blood to try and come up with some kind of cure. But this is beyond me now. Beyond anyone."

    "No," I say firmly, shaking my head. "That''s not true. Dr. Octavius. Dr. Connors. They worked with Norman. They specialize in mutations. If anyone can help, it''s them."

    Virgil hesitates. "Yes... you may be right. But they''re contained. By now, they''ve either turned or..." He trails off, his expression grim.

    "Norman wouldn''t let that happen," I argue. "They''re valuable. And if there''s anything left of the Norman Osborn I knew, he''ll want to use them if he plans to bring his madness to the rest of the world."

    Virgil exhales slowly, then nods. "That... makes sense."

    "I need to find them," I say, already forming a plan in my head. "But before that¡ªI need to find my Aunt. And the others."

    Virgil shifts uncomfortably. "I-I''m not sure that''s the best idea. You''ve been out a long time. You may not¡ª"

    "I''ve wasted enough time!" I snap, my voice ringing through the facility. The rage surges again, searing through my veins.

    Virgil stiffens but doesn''t argue.

    I take a breath, steadying myself. "I''m going to fix this. I will fix this." My hands curl into fists. "Then I''ll find Norman."

    And this time, I won''t hold back.

    I''m going to stop him.

    For good.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The underground station reeked of sweat, rust, and desperation. Survivors huddled in small clusters, speaking in hushed voices, their eyes flickering toward the entrance¡ªwhere two armed guards stood, unmoving. Just ex-cops and soldiers who hadn''t made it out when the city fell.

    "You know the rule," the older guard said, his voice rough. "You leave now, and if you''re not back by sundown, you don''t come back."

    Conner stood at the front, shifting on his feet. "We won''t be long. Just need supplies for her mom." He gestured at Gwen, his voice steady, but not too steady. Just enough hesitation to make it believable.

    The second guard, a woman with a scar cutting through her eyebrow, folded her arms. "You can wait for the other scavenger teams to come back."

    Felicia scoffed. "Look, it''s not as if we want to go out there for shits and giggles. It''s important, okay? Like blondie said, her mom is in rough shape."

    The woman looked at Gwen, scanning her like she could see straight through her. Gwen held her gaze, keeping her expression tight, controlled. "Yeah. She''s getting worse," she said, her voice softer than she meant. "We don''t have time to wait."

    A heavy silence. Then the older guard exhaled through his nose. "Names in the logbook. One per line."

    Felicia snatched the pencil and scribbled her name fast, like she couldn''t be bothered. Conner took a little longer, his writing messier. Gwen hesitated just for a second before signing hers beneath theirs.

    The woman guard pulled the log back. "Lot of people need help. Hope this is worth it."

    Gwen forced a small, grim smile. "It will be."

    The older man unlatched the heavy metal door. It groaned as it swung open, revealing the city beyond¡ªdark, quiet in the way a graveyard is.

    Felicia was out first. Conner followed.

    Gwen took one last look at the underground¡ªthe only safe place left.

    Then she stepped through.

    The door slammed shut behind them.

    They were on their own now.

    The world above the underground shelter was eerily quiet, but it was a silence that never lasted. Gwen, Felicia, and Conner stepped onto the cracked pavement, the city looming around them like a graveyard.

    Felicia adjusted the strap of her backpack, leading the group down a side street, staying low, staying sharp. "Let''s keep it moving," she whispered. "Last thing we need is for something to sniff us out."

    Gwen glanced at the horizon; the sun was already sinking. They had to move fast.

    "We should stick close to the alleys," Conner said, shifting his weight uneasily. "Out in the open like this, we''re a buffet."

    Felicia nodded. "Not a bad idea."

    They pressed on, weaving through the ruins, stepping over rubble and bones. Gwen hated how familiar it all felt. Once, this was her home. Now, it was a war zone.

    As they walked, Conner broke the silence. "So, how do you two know each other?"

    Gwen and Felicia exchanged a quick glance.

    Peter.

    Felicia shrugged, casual. "School."

    Gwen hesitated. "My boyfriend''s friend."

    Conner raised a brow. "Your boyfriend back in the shelter?"

    Gwen felt Felicia tense beside her.

    "No," she answered, staring ahead. "He''s still out there."

    Felicia groaned, rolling her eyes. "Oh, come on, not this again."

    Gwen stopped in her tracks. "What''s that supposed to mean?"

    Felicia turned to face her, arms crossed. "It means you need to stop fooling yourself. He''s gone, Gwen."

    Gwen clenched her fists. "You don''t know that."

    Felicia''s voice dropped, her usual smugness gone. "I do know that. And deep down, so do you."

    For a moment, Gwen considered arguing. But the lump in her throat was too thick.

    Then¡ªFelicia stiffened.

    Her hand shot out, gripping Gwen''s wrist, yanking her down behind a rusted-out car.

    "Shh."

    Conner ducked down to join them.

    Just across the street, a woman lay pinned beneath a slab of concrete, her screams sharp and desperate. The rubble had crushed her legs, leaving her trapped beneath the remains of a building. She clawed at the ground, hands bloodied, sobbing.

    Gwen''s breath hitched. "We have to help her."

    Felicia shook her head. "No. We can''t."

    Gwen turned to her, incredulous. "She''s dying."

    "I wish there was something we could do. But there''s not!" Felicia hissed. "Her screaming will only draw those things to us."

    As if on cue, a chilling howl echoed in the distance. Then another. And another.

    Connor swallowed hard. "Shit."

    Gwen''s heart pounded. "We can still¡ª"

    Felicia grabbed her arm, squeezing tight. "If you go out there, you''re dead. We''re all dead."

    The woman''s cries grew more frantic.

    Then¡ªshadows moved across the ruined buildings.

    They were coming.

    Felicia''s grip tightened. "We leave. Now."

    Gwen closed her eyes. She turned away before she could watch.

    As they slipped into an alley, the woman''s screams turned to shrieks of terror¡ªthen gurgled, and then... nothing.

    Silence.

    A heavy silence that buried itself in Gwen''s chest.

    She didn''t look back.

    Peter''s neighborhood was barely recognizable. What was once a quiet street was now a wasteland of burnt houses and overturned cars. The air smelled of decay, the pavement cracked and warped from old fires.

    Felicia pointed ahead. "His house is just up¡ª"

    Thunk.

    Conner cried out, stumbling back. An arrow was buried deep in his shoulder, blood seeping through his jacket.

    "What?!" Felicia spun around, scanning the rooftops.

    Gwen grabbed Conner as he wobbled, his face pale. "Stay with me, stay with me¡ª"

    Then, above them¡ªmovement.

    A figure stood on a rooftop, perched atop a snarling goblin, its clawed feet gripping the ledge. The man held a bow, his smirk confident, amused.

    Felicia''s stomach turned cold.

    She knew that face.

    Kraven the Hunter.

    But Gwen¡ªGwen''s breath caught in her throat.

    Her stomach twisted, and suddenly, she was back at school.

    Flashes of that day¡ªthe screams of students, the sick grin on Kraven''s face as he stood in the auditorium like he belonged there. The way he had spoken so casually, so smug, as if threatening their lives was a game.

    The moment he had pointed his weapon pressed against Flash''s throat and told them all he would kill until Spider-Man showed himself edged itself within her mind.

    Her hands trembled.

    Her heart pounded in her ears.

    Not again.

    She took a step back. Then another.

    Felicia noticed. "Gwen."

    But Gwen barely heard her. Her entire body screamed at her to run.

    Kraven leapt from the rooftop, the goblin beneath him landing with a sickening crunch of broken pavement. He tilted his head, sniffing the air, then grinned.

    "You smell like him."

    Felicia went still.

    Gwen stiffened beside her. "Him?"

    Felicia knew exactly who Kraven meant. And that meant he was here for only one thing.

    Her jaw clenched. "Spider-Man is dead."

    Kraven studied her, then¡ªwithout warning¡ªfired another arrow.

    Felicia flinched.

    But the arrow didn''t hit her.

    It buried itself in the eye of a goblin behind them, killing it instantly.

    Kraven sighed, shaking his head. "Tsk. You wound me, girl." He stepped closer, boots crunching against broken glass. "Once I found his scent. I had to see it with my own eyes. If the Goblin spoke true... if the hunt had truly ended."

    His voice¡ªjust for a moment¡ªheld something like regret.

    Felicia narrowed her eyes. "Now you know. So leave."

    Kraven chuckled. "And here I thought I''d be welcomed. I did just save your lives."

    Felicia glanced at Conner¡ªhis face pale, blood still seeping from his wound. "Yeah, right after you shot an arrow into his shoulder."

    Gwen''s voice was a whisper. "He attacked our school. He threatened to kill us."

    Kraven laughed. "Oh, child. I had no interest in killing any children that day. I only needed to draw out the Spider. And I did."

    Felicia exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "That doesn''t matter now. Spider-Man isn''t here, which means you shot this guy for no reason, don''t you think you should help him?" She gestured to Conner. "You shot him. So you fix it."

    Kraven studied Conner for a long moment, then exhaled, shaking his head. "I thought I caught his scent on you. Thought¡ªmaybe¡ªI had been wrong. That he still lived." He scoffed. "But Spider-Man would never have let his guard down like that."

    Felicia swallowed hard. "So, are you going to help him or not?"

    Kraven smirked. "A hunter does not leave wounded prey to rot."

    Felicia wanted to be sick. But this could be their chance to bring May back with them to the shelter, if somehow she could convince him, then they''d be okay. He didn''t seem like he was really out to harm them, so as long as things went according to plan....

    Felicia nodded.

    And, without another choice, they led him to Peter''s house.

 Goblin City (Part Three)

    I zip up my backpack, sliding an extra water bottle inside. Five months, and somehow, it was exactly where I left it. Just covered in dust, like everything else in this city.

    "This should be everything," I say, pulling the straps over my shoulders. "I''ll be back as soon as I can. Then... we''ll see about that cure. If it''s even possible."

    Virgil watches me carefully, his expression unreadable. "Yes, I understand. Family is everything." His voice drops lower, heavier. "But be wary of his creations. They roam the streets. Mindless. Ruthless. Beasts. But... they were human."

    I swallow hard, nodding. "Sure."

    I turn toward the exit, but before I can take another step, a firm grip catches my shoulder.

    "Mr. Spider."

    I stop.

    Virgil hesitates, his fingers tightening slightly before he lets go. "Your blood... and the chemical formula Norman created. It started all of this." His voice is steady, but there''s a weight behind it. "So you have to stay alive. This city needs you."

    He pauses, then reaches into his coat. "One more thing."

    I watch as he pulls out a small device, pressing it into my hand. I turn it over, studying the smooth metal casing, the faint seams along the edges.

    "What is it?" I ask, squinting at it.

    "Press the button on the side," Virgil explains. "It emits a frequency¡ªhigh-pitched, painful. The Goblins have sharp hearing, sharper than almost any living thing. It helps them hunt... but it can also be used against them."

    I nod, slipping it into my bag. "How many uses?"

    Virgil exhales. "Not many. Use it wisely."

    I sling my bag over my shoulder. "Got it."

    As I turn to leave, his voice follows me.

    "Be careful, Mr. Spider."

    I don''t respond. I don''t even look at him. I just shrug off his hand and keep walking, my footsteps echoing down the empty corridor.

    When I push open the rusted door, I''m hit with sunlight. But it''s not warm. It''s harsh. The kind of light that exposes the scars, the damage, the rot.

    If I''m really going to do this¡ªfind Dr. Octavius, track down Connors¡ªI need to be prepared.

    First, a new suit.

    Then, some spare web cartridges at home.

    Then, the hospital where Aunt May was being kept.

    If the city really went to hell, maybe the sick were evacuated first. Maybe they made it out.

    Or maybe I''m just feeding myself false hope.

    The moment I step into the open air, the stench hits me. It''s worse than I remember, and considering this is New York, that''s saying something. Smoke clogs the sky, thick and black, swirling up from the hollowed-out remains of buildings. Streets that were once choked with honking taxis and tourists are now littered with burnt-out cars and bodies left to decay.

    I leap onto the roof of an abandoned cab, my eyes scanning the horizon. Nothing but ruin in every direction. A skyline of destruction.

    A deep, bitter anger churns in my gut.

    I exhale sharply, clenching my fists.

    "Is this really the world you wanted, Norman?"

    I already know the answer. And it makes me sick.

    Then, without wanting a guttural snarl shatters the silence.

    I stiffen, instincts kicking in before my brain fully processes what I''m hearing. A low, wet growl¡ªferal and hungry. The scrape of claws against pavement.

    I turn my head slowly.

    There, crouched atop an overturned bus, it''s a Goblin...

    Not Norman.

    But one of his creations.

    Its skin is mottled green, veins bulging beneath its grotesquely twisted muscles. Its face¡ªif you could even call it that¡ªis a nightmare of exposed teeth, jagged and broken, saliva dripping from its oversized maw. Its eyes are sunken but glowing with a sickly yellow light, locked onto me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl.

    Then, it screams again.

    A raw, piercing howl that echoes through the ruins. A war cry. A warning.

    My pulse spikes, but I don''t move.

    My first fight in five months.

    I shift my stance, rolling my shoulders. My muscles feel tight, my limbs stiff from too much time lying in a damn hospital bed. I can already tell¡ªI''m slower. Sloppier. My body hasn''t seen action since before the coma.

    The Goblin stands hunched, clawed fingers twitching, breath ragged. Its yellowed eyes lock onto me. Then it charges.

    I brace myself. No suit. No webs. Just me.

    It swipes fast. I jerk back¡ªtoo slow. Claws rake my shoulder, shoving me sideways. Pain flares, but I stay on my feet. If I go down, I won''t get up fast enough.

    It lunges again. This time, I duck, twisting as its claws slice the air. My muscles scream¡ªI''m stiff, sluggish. Five months asleep stole my speed.

    But not my strength.

    I drive my fist into its ribs. The impact sends it stumbling, not far, but enough. It snarls, crouching low, ready to pounce.

    I shift left¡ªjust enough to bait it. The second it lunges, I pivot right, grabbing my backpack and swinging hard. The weight slams into its skull. The Goblin reels, dazed. I don''t stop. I ram my knee into its gut, knocking it back further.

    Then I see it¡ªa bent street sign, half-ripped from the ground.

    I shove the Goblin with everything I have. It stumbles, foot catching on the metal. For a split second, it teeters. Then it crashes, limbs tangled in twisted steel.

    It thrashes, snarling, but the more it fights, the more stuck it gets.

    Chest heaving, I step back. My shoulder throbs, but I won. "Okay, just a few hundred thousand to go." I say, slightly out of breath.

    The Goblin glares up at me, pure rage in its eyes. But beneath it, something flickers¡ªsomething human.

    I force myself to turn away.

    I still have a long way to go.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Can you hurry up?" Felicia huffs, arms crossed as she watches Kraven tighten the last of the bandages around Connor''s arm.

    The hunter smirks, ignoring her impatience. "You speak as if you have somewhere to be."

    Connor winces as Kraven pulls the wrap taut, sucking in a sharp breath. "Yeah, uh... thanks. But, uh¡ªaren''t you that supervillain who fought Spider-Man? Why are you... you know, helping?"

    Kraven''s smirk lingers as he retrieves a spear from the wall, running a finger along its sharp edge. "I fought your hero. That does not make me a bad man."

    Felicia scoffs. "No, but taking an entire school hostage definitely does."

    Kraven chuckles, unbothered. "Yes. Perhaps so." He twirls the spear in his hands before suddenly pointing the tip toward Felicia. She doesn''t flinch, but her muscles tighten. "Now tell me, girl... why does this place stink of him?"

    Felicia keeps her face neutral, refusing to give anything away. "How the hell should I know?"

    Kraven studies her, his dark eyes gleaming. He knows she''s lying. Knows something is being kept from him. But instead of pressing, he simply exhales, resting the butt of his spear against the floor. "I''ve treated the boy. My debt is paid. This will be the last time we meet."

    "Wait." Felicia bites her lip, then forces herself to speak. "We need your help."

    Kraven raises a brow, intrigued. "Oh?"

    "No, we don''t."

    Gwen''s voice cuts through the room as she descends the stairs, her grip tight on the railing. Her heart pounds against her ribs. She knows she''s right, but saying it out loud makes it real.

    Felicia turns, exasperated. "Yes. We do. Taking May across the city ourselves is a death wish. At the very least, this guy and his overgrown green dog could get us there faster."

    Gwen reaches the bottom step, eyes locking onto Kraven. Her chest tightens at the sight of him¡ªthe man who once took their school hostage, who treated their lives like a game. "You''re right. I know you are. But not from him. He''s a monster. Maybe just as bad as those things outside."

    Kraven grins. "I think I''m prettier."

    Felicia ignores him, stepping closer. "Look, we need a deal. You help us, we help you."

    Kraven tilts his head. "Help me? Do you take me for some mercenary?"

    Felicia crosses her arms. "You said the greatest hunt of all is still out there. But Spider-Man''s¡ª" She swallows. "He''s gone."

    Kraven''s grin fades slightly. He cracks his jaw, rolling his shoulders. "The man who killed the Spider. The Green Goblin."

    Silence suffocates the room. None of them want to speak the name of the man who turned their world into hell.

    Felicia breaks it. "If it''s the Goblin you want, maybe I can help."

    Kraven''s eyes glint with amusement. "And what could you possibly offer? Yourself as bait?"

    Felicia doesn''t flinch. "I know who he is. Maybe even where he is."

    That gets his attention. He watches her now, truly studying her.

    Felicia stands her ground. "You help us, I give you a name. After that, he''s all yours."

    Connor shifts uncomfortably. "Are we really doing this? Asking him for help?"

    Felicia throws up a hand. "He''s in this for sport. If he wanted us dead, we''d be dead."

    Kraven turns his back to them. "And how do I know you tell the truth? If you had such knowledge, wouldn''t your law enforcement have liked to know?"

    Felicia hesitates. "It''s... complicated."

    She feels Gwen''s stare burning into the back of her head. Gwen wanted to know why it seemed there were things Felicia knew about all of this that she didn''t, why it even felt that way when...Peter was around.

    "You help us, I help you," Felicia says firmly. "And if I am lying, you know exactly where to find me."

    Kraven says nothing. The room is heavy with tension.

    Then¡ª

    A car horn blares outside.

    The four of them turn as the sound spirals into a metallic crunch. Kraven moves to the window, his expression unreadable. Felicia shoves past him just in time to see the massive, monstrous shape of his creature perched atop a crushed car.

    Her stomach drops. "You''ve got to be shitting me." She glares at Kraven. "Isn''t that your pet? Go make it stop!"

    Kraven watches for a moment longer¡ªthen, calmly, he shuts the blinds. "It''s too late for that."

    Felicia barely has time to process his words before he turns, grabs the couch, and hurls it against the door.

    "If you wish to live long enough to strike a deal," he says, "barricade every entrance."

    Felicia doesn''t hesitate. She rushes toward the back door, yanking a heavy shelf down with her. "Don''t just stand there¡ªhelp me!"

    Connor and Gwen snap into action, dragging furniture across the room.

    "Is this even going to be enough?" Connor stammers. "I¡ªI don''t think¡ª"

    "You wanna cry about it or do something?!" Felicia snaps. She runs to the kitchen, yanks open a drawer, and grabs the largest knife she can find. She tosses one to Gwen. Then another to Connor.

    Kraven smirks. "I like your haste, girl. But it will not be enough."

    Felicia spins on him, pointing. "This is your fault! Your little goblin freak is about to get us all killed!"

    Gwen''s voice cuts through the rising panic. "We have to hide May."

    Then¡ª

    The screaming begins.

    The ground rumbles.

    For a split second, the entire room is frozen.

    A slow, creeping grin spreads across Kraven''s face. He grips his spear.

    "They''re coming."

    The first goblin crashes through the window in a spray of glass, its grotesque form a blend of sinew and madness. The sound is deafening¡ªshrieks, claws scraping against the walls, the crunch of shattered furniture under its twisted limbs.

    "Those barricades are useless!" Kraven bellows, twirling his spear as if this is some great game. "Be prepared to fight, or die where you stand!"

    Felicia barely has time to react as the front door bursts inward, hinges snapping. Another goblin barrels through, its maw stretching wide in a guttural scream.

    "Fuckin'' freaky things." Felicia yells, gripping her knife so tightly her knuckles turn white.

    She ducks as the first goblin lunges at her, its claws grazing her shoulder. The sting of the scratch sends her heart racing, but she plants her feet and slashes upward.

    The knife catches its arm, black ichor splattering across her face.

    Connor screams behind her as one of the creatures barrels toward him. "Gwen, help him!" Felicia shouts, but she''s already being shoved back against the wall.

    The goblin snarls, its breath rancid as it snaps its jagged teeth inches from her face. Felicia kicks upward with everything she has, her boot slamming into its gut.

    It stumbles back, only to swipe at her with claws like daggers. The sharp tips rip through her jacket sleeve, narrowly missing flesh.

    "Felicia, duck!"

    She doesn''t question the voice¡ªjust drops. A kitchen stool sails over her head, slamming into the goblin''s face. The creature reels, momentarily stunned. She looks back to see Connor, panting, gripping another stool like his life depends on it.

    "Nice one, dude!" she yells, scrambling to her feet.

    The praise makes him hesitate, his face flushing for just a moment¡ªlong enough for another goblin to crash into the room. This one is larger, its elongated limbs bending unnaturally as it lumbers toward them.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    "Connor, move!" she screams, shoving him out of the way as the goblin lunges. It grabs her by the leg, claws digging into her jeans as it drags her toward the shattered window.

    "I fucking hate these things!" Felicia thrashes, stabbing downward with her knife. The blade buries into the creature''s shoulder, but it doesn''t stop. Her body scrapes against broken glass, her breaths coming in panicked gasps.

    Connor''s voice cuts through the chaos. "Hold on!"

    Felicia twists, just in time to see him slam the kitchen stool into the goblin''s head with a sickening crack. It howls, releasing her, and she kicks herself free, scrambling to her feet.

    Their eyes meet for a split second¡ªhis wide with terror, hers blazing with adrenaline. For a moment, neither speaks. Then Connor holds out a trembling hand, helping her up.

    "Thanks," she mutters, her voice breathless.

    He nods, his face still red, before grabbing a knife off the counter.

    Gwen''s voice cuts through the noise. "May is completely vulnerable up there."

    Felicia grabs Connor by the arm. "Go upstairs and help her¡ªnow!"

    A deafening crash shakes the house as Kraven laughs, his spear impaling a goblin against the wall. Black ichor pools at his feet as he yanks the weapon free, spinning to face another with glee in his eyes. "I can''t remember the last time I felt such a thrill!" he roars, slicing through another with almost surgical precision.

    But even Kraven can see it¡ªthe creatures just keep coming. For every one he kills, two more take its place.

    "This is pointless!" Felicia shouts, her voice breaking.

    "Nonsense!" Kraven grins, blood dripping from his weapon. "This is the thrill of survival!"

    "Easy for you to say," Gwen spits, clutching her knife. "We don''t kill things for a living."

    Another goblin smashes through a side window, its claws skittering across the tile as it lunges toward Gwen. She stumbles back, raising her knife, but the blade shakes in her grip.

    "Gwen!" Felicia shouts, grabbing the nearest thing she can¡ªa cast iron skillet¡ªand hurling it. The goblin jerks back as the skillet slams into its head, giving Gwen the chance to plunge her knife into its chest.

    It screams, convulsing, before collapsing in a heap. Gwen stares at the body, her breath hitching. She stares at her hands, the sticky blood covering them completely. Something about having to kill these things...didn''t sit right with her.

    "Okay, nice kill." Felicia says, yanking her toward the kitchen. "But we''re not out of this yet."

    Kraven plants his spear into the floor, his grin finally fading. "There is no end to this," he mutters, almost to himself.

    Felicia turns to him, her voice desperate. "Then what the hell do we do?"

    Kraven looks at her, his expression unreadable. For the first time, he doesn''t have an answer.

    The screaming outside grows louder, closer. The goblins aren''t just attacking¡ªthey''re surrounding the house, closing in.

    The walls trembled as the goblins slammed against them, their guttural snarls and screeches reverberating through the house like an unrelenting storm.

    "We can''t hold them here!" Felicia shouted, her voice barely cutting through the chaos. "Upstairs, now!"

    Kraven pivoted sharply, ramming the blunt end of his spear into a goblin''s chest as it lunged at him. The creature collapsed to the floor, writhing, but he silenced it with a quick jab to the skull. His voice boomed, commanding and sharp. "Move! I''ll make sure these creatures don''t come after us!"

    Connor grabbed Gwen''s arm, pulling her toward the staircase. She stumbled over scattered debris but caught herself on the railing, her knife slipping from her trembling hand. Behind them, Kraven held the line, swinging his spear in a wide arc that sent another goblin crashing into the wall.

    Felicia froze, glancing back at the hunter, torn between helping and fleeing. Kraven fixed her with a glare. "You won''t help them by standing there. Get your ass moving!"

    Clenching her jaw, she kicked a chair into an advancing goblin to buy herself a second and then bolted up the stairs after the others.

    The house groaned under the assault as they reached the second floor. Connor pushed open the door to May''s room, his hands shaking as he ushered the others inside. "Barricade it! Now!"

    Gwen shoved the dresser toward the door, its legs screeching against the wooden floor. Felicia grabbed a chair, wedging it beneath the doorknob. The door rattled violently as the goblins pounded on it, their claws scraping and tearing at the wood.

    Kraven appeared moments later, blood and ichor streaking his arms. His chest heaved, but his grin hadn''t faltered. He slammed the door shut behind him, planting his spear into the floor to brace it. "They''re tenacious, I''ll give them that," he muttered, a dark amusement lacing his voice.

    The pounding at the door grew louder, the frame beginning to splinter under the onslaught. Dust fell from the ceiling with each thunderous blow.

    "That door won''t last," Gwen said, her voice trembling as her eyes darted around the room in search of more to fortify it.

    Felicia turned to Kraven, frustration and fear etched across her face. "What now? We can''t just sit here and wait for them to break through!"

    Kraven''s sharp gaze swept over the room, calculating. His eyes lingered on the windows, the furniture, and finally, on May, lying motionless in her bed.

    "We need to give them something to focus on. Something to distract them," he said, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather.

    The room fell silent as the meaning of his words sank in. Felicia''s expression darkened, and she stepped forward, placing herself between Kraven and May. "You really are insane if you think I''d let you do that to her."

    Gwen moved to her side, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. "I knew you couldn''t be trusted. We¡ªWe should''ve left you down there..."

    Kraven smirked, his fingers curling around the shaft of his spear. "You misunderstand me, girls. I am not a cruel man, but survival often demands cruelty. This is a simple equation: bait the beasts, or be overrun."

    "Then we fight them," Felicia shot back, her voice wavering but resolute. "All of us. Together. But you''re not laying a hand on her."

    The hunter''s grin widened, his amusement palpable. "Brave. Foolish, but brave."

    Behind them, the doorframe began to splinter. The goblins were breaking through.

    Kraven exhaled deeply, his shoulders rising and falling as if the weight of the moment had finally settled on him. "We don''t have much time," he said, his voice quieter than before. "I''m sorry it has to be this way."

    Felicia stiffened, positioning herself protectively in front of May''s bed. Her mind raced, calculating her next move. If she could just buy a few seconds, maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªGwen and Connor could get May out through the window. But even then, with those creatures swarming outside, their odds were slim.

    Her heart pounded as she tightened her grip on the knife in her hand, her eyes locked on Kraven. In moments like this, the fear clawing at her chest, she couldn''t help but wonder... What would Peter do?

    Before she could act, a shrill, piercing sound tore through the house, cutting through the chaos like a razor. The goblins'' snarls turned into anguished howls, their claws scrabbling against the walls and door suddenly falling still as they recoiled from the noise.

    Gwen clamped her hands over her ears, wincing. "W-What is that?" she stammered, her voice barely audible over the screeching tone.

    Felicia felt a bead of sweat trailing down her face, as she turned to Gwen. "I don''t know."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The sound is louder than I expect, sharp and piercing, cutting through the night like a blade. The emitter vibrates in my hand, humming with power, and I can''t help but smirk. Virgil really did his homework. The moment I hit the button, the goblins drop like flies, their shrieks echoing in the air. Some writhe on the ground, others stumble over each other, and a few bolt, fleeing into the shadows like their lives depend on it.

    "Easiest infiltration job ever," I mutter, lowering the device.

    But something feels wrong. Why would all these things be here? Aunt May''s cooking is good, but I doubt they''re here for leftovers. So, does that mean someone''s actually inside?

    I crouch behind the wrecked car, watching the last of the goblins scatter into the darkness. My heart pounds as I stare at the house. It''s a mess¡ªbroken windows, shattered wood, absolute chaos. Aunt May would have a fit seeing the place like this. Then again, maybe she''d be relieved¡ªan excuse to finally fix that squeaky door she always complains about. The thought makes me smile, even now.

    But I don''t have time to dwell on it. If someone''s in there, I need to know who. I move carefully, making my way toward the front door. My stomach twists when I see the carnage¡ªsplintered furniture, shattered glass, and... dead goblins. There was a fight here. But who won?

    I creep up the stairs, listening for any sign of life. Then I hear it¡ªvoices. Faint, coming from Aunt May''s room.

    "...I''m not sure why they stopped. Does that mean it''s safe? Y¡ªYou can stop now!"

    "I''m afraid I don''t take threats lightly. Only moments ago, you girls were prepared to kill me. It seems trust is lost between us all."

    Girls? Kill? What the¡ª

    "Kraven, don''t do this! There''s no point in just¡ª"

    Kraven. That''s all I need to hear. My blood boils, and I don''t even think¡ªI just act. I burst into the room, my fist already swinging. I hit him square in the back, sending him flying through the wall. He crashes outside, the sound of splintering wood and stone echoing through the house. For a moment, the room is silent.

    Then I turn, and my heart nearly stops.

    "Pe-Peter?" Felicia''s voice is barely above a whisper, her hands trembling as they cover her mouth.

    "There''s... no way..." Gwen breathes, her wide eyes filling with tears.

    I can''t move. I can''t speak. They''re here. They''re alive. And just behind them... May. My chest tightens, and tears burn my eyes. I''m not sure what to say, what to do. It feels like everything I''ve been holding onto just... releases.

    Before I can react, Gwen rushes forward, throwing her arms around me. "I knew it!" she cries into my chest, her grip so tight it almost hurts. "I knew it, Peter! I knew it! I¡ªI knew it!" Her voice cracks as she says it over and over again, her fingers digging into my arms. "You always come back."

    I hold her just as tightly, my own tears spilling over. "I-I''d never leave you. Never." My voice shakes as I try to steady myself. "You have no idea how scared I was, thinking something might''ve happened to you."

    "Peter..." She looks up at me, her face streaked with tears. "I felt the same way. Thinking you were... gone. Not knowing if you were alive or dead... that was the worst part. But now you''re here. Everything''s okay. Everything."

    She''s right. Despite everything¡ªthis moment, right here¡ªit''s perfect.

    Felicia steps forward slowly, her tough exterior gone. Her eyes shimmer with tears, and for a second, she just stares at me. I expect her to slap me, maybe call me an idiot for going off alone, but instead, her voice cracks. "I¡ªI''m sorry, Peter. I''m so sorry."

    "Sorry? For what?" I ask, pulling away from Gwen to face her.

    "I let you go that night. I should''ve stopped you... gone with you... something." She looks away, her face full of guilt. "Gwen never gave up, but me? I... I thought you were dead. And if I''d gone with you, maybe¡ª"

    "Felicia, stop." I cut her off, my voice firm but soft. "If you''d come with me, we both would''ve died. And then who would''ve kept May safe? Who would''ve looked out for Gwen?" I glance at Gwen, who''s watching silently, and then back to Felicia. "You''ve been taking care of them. Of her. That''s something I''ll never be able to repay."

    Felicia''s cheeks flush, and for once, she looks... vulnerable. "I''d never let anything happen to them. Or you. Just... stop running off and disappearing for long periods of time."

    I smile at her sincerity. "Don''t worry. I''m sticking around this time. See what I did there?"

    Felicia scoffs, a smile forming on her face. "Yeah, still corny as shit. But...I''ve definitely missed that."

    I grin, but then my eyes land on the guy awkwardly standing beside her, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh... I''m Peter. And you are?"

    "Connor," he says, glancing toward the hole in the wall. "Nice to meet you. And, uh... how the hell did you do that? You punched that guy out of the house. That''s... not normal...is it?"

    "He''s right," Gwen says, stepping forward, suspicion flickering in her eyes. "Peter... how did you do that?"

    "Adrenaline?" I try with a weak smile. It''s clear she''s not buying it.

    Felicia sighs, grabbing Connor by the arm and dragging him toward the door. "We''re going to check outside. Make sure it''s all clear."

    Connor hesitates, peeking out the hole. "Uh... guys? Kraven''s gone."

    Gone? My chest tightens, but Felicia just waves it off, ushering him out. "We''ll talk later, Peter," she says firmly. Then, with a knowing glance back at me, she adds, "You and Gwen need to talk."

    She''s right. It''s time to stop dodging the questions.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The room is still. Aunt May sleeps soundly beside me, her hand warm and fragile in mine. I squeeze it gently, watching her peaceful face, and a tiny part of me allows itself to feel relief. She''s safe. For now, at least.

    "So," Gwen says, breaking the silence, her voice soft but curious. "Are you going to tell me where you''ve been, or do I have to guess?"

    I glance at her, my lips twitching into a small smile. I can already see the storm of questions brewing behind her eyes, a thousand things she''s probably been dying to ask me. "Alright," I say with a sigh. "But if I''m going to tell you, I need to start from the top."

    "Waiting, Parker," she teases, nudging me lightly, her signature smirk tugging at her lips.

    I take a deep breath. My heart pounds in my chest. Is this the right time? The right way? What if this changes everything? What if she looks at me differently?

    But then I meet her eyes¡ªthose clear, blue eyes full of trust and warmth¡ªand I know. Gwen wouldn''t betray me. She wouldn''t turn away. She deserves to know the truth.

    "I''m Spider-Man," I say, the words spilling out before I can stop myself.

    Her expression shifts slightly, her brows furrowing as she processes what I just said. She breaks eye contact for a moment, and I feel my stomach drop. But then she looks back up at me, tilting her head with a small, almost amused smile.

    "That''s... honestly not that surprising," she says, like it''s the most natural thing in the world.

    I blink, caught off guard. "Uh... huh?"

    She laughs softly, shaking her head. "Looking back, I guess I should''ve figured it out. All those times you showed up to school with bruises you couldn''t explain, or disappeared right when something crazy happened? It adds up."

    I let out a small, nervous laugh. "It wasn''t easy lying to you. To everyone. But I had to¡ª"

    "Peter." She reaches out, placing her hand over mine, squeezing gently. "I get it. You were protecting me. Protecting everyone close to you."

    I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "That''s part of it, yeah. But I was scared, too. I was terrified of how people would look at me if they knew. Of how you''d look at me."

    Her expression softens, her gaze searching mine. "Peter... what happened with my dad..." Her voice catches, and I can hear the faint tremble in it. "That wasn''t your fault. My dad always used to say Spider-Man was dangerous, that you acted without accountability. But after what happened with Mr. Octavius, after you saved all of us... he started to see you differently. He would talk highly of you. He still thought you were reckless, but I could tell he respected you. Almost like he looked up to you."

    Her words hit me hard. "That''s crazy," I manage, my voice shaking. "I mean I was the one who looked up to him. Your dad... he was a real hero. No powers, no fancy suit¡ªjust his courage. He gave everything to save that boy. Everything."

    Tears glisten in Gwen''s eyes, and she looks down at her lap, nodding. "He was a hero. But so are you, Peter. You''re my hero. And if he were here now... he''d feel the same way. He wouldn''t blame you for what happened."

    The weight I''ve been carrying for so long suddenly feels lighter. I chuckle shakily, wiping at my eyes. "I didn''t expect you to say that. Thank you, Gwen."

    She leans forward and wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a warm embrace. I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the comfort of her presence. For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel like I''ve done something right.

    "Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "For everything."

    Her words nearly undo me. I''ve spent so long feeling like I''ve failed everyone, but Gwen believes in me. She always has. She pulls back slightly, her face inches from mine, and then she kisses me. It''s soft, warm, and everything I''ve missed.

    When she pulls away, she smiles. "I really missed doing that."

    I grin. "I really missed you doing that."

    She laughs softly, and the sound fills the room, pushing away the shadows. "Now," she says, nudging me, "how about you tell me where you''ve been?"

    So I do. I tell her everything¡ªabout Norman Osborn and the chaos he''s unleashed, about the villains he''s manipulated and created, about Harry being caught in the crossfire. I tell her how Norman left me for dead, and how I spent five months in a coma, cared for by a man named Virgil. As I speak, I see the worry in her eyes, the way she clenches her hands as if trying to hold back her fear.

    When I finish, she''s quiet for a moment. "That''s... a lot," she finally says. "But you really think you can fix this? That things can go back to the way they were?"

    I nod. "I have to believe that. For all of us."

    She squeezes my hand. "Then I believe it too."

    Before I can say anything else, the door swings open. Felicia leans against the frame, her arms crossed. "Things are clear downstairs. That guy, Connor? He''s passed out in your bed. Figured it was fine for now. You two done with your little heart-to-heart?"

    I glance at Gwen, who smiles warmly. "Yeah. And... she knows."

    Felicia lets out a breath, almost like a sigh of relief. "About time. I was getting tired of covering for you."

    Gwen raises an eyebrow. "Wait. You knew?"

    Felicia smirks. "For a while now."

    Gwen''s expression shifts, a mix of surprise and mock offense. "So all those times Peter disappeared or got hurt, you knew what was going on and didn''t tell me?"

    "I begged her to keep it a secret," I interject quickly. "She figured it out that day we were at karaoke, and she''s been helping me ever since."

    Felicia shrugs, stepping into the room. "It''s not like it was fun for me. You think I didn''t want to tell you? Or that it didn''t kill me every time I thought Peter might actually be dead?"

    Gwen''s expression softens, and she gives a small laugh. "Okay, okay. I guess I can let it slide. But I would''ve liked to be in on your little club. I''ve read enough comics to know I''d make a great ''girl in the chair.''"

    Felicia snorts. "Trust me, it''s not as fun as it sounds."

    Gwen turns back to me. "So, what now?"

    "I''ve got a plan to turn everyone back," I start. "But it''s going to take¡ª"

    "Wait," Felicia cuts in, her tone suddenly sharp. "What do you mean ''turn them back''? Turn who back?"

    I hesitate, realizing I haven''t told them the worst part. "Felicia... those goblins? They''re people. They''re the ones who took the goblin pill."

    Felicia''s face pales, and for a moment, she''s silent. I know what she''s thinking. I saw the bodies downstairs. "You didn''t know," I say gently. "And even if you did, you didn''t have a choice."

    "I know," she mutters, her voice tight. "I know."

    The room falls quiet. Finally, Felicia takes a deep breath and straightens. "We''ll figure it out tomorrow. I''m getting some sleep." She turns and walks out without another word.

    Gwen looks at me, worry etched on her face. "You should go talk to her."

    "Yeah." I squeeze her hand, then stand. "I will."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The morning sun spills through the window, warming my face and dragging me back to the land of the living. My eyes flutter open, adjusting to the golden light, but somehow, I still feel exhausted.

    Which is kind of ridiculous, considering I just spent five months in a coma.

    I blink a few times, and that''s when I see her. Gwen.

    She''s barely a breath away from me, her face relaxed, peaceful in sleep. For a moment, everything else¡ªthe city in ruins, the nightmares waiting outside¡ªfades into the background. If I didn''t know any better, I''d think I''d woken up in heaven.

    I smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, because that''s a thing people do in movies, and¡ªyeah, I don''t know. It just feels right.

    But then, like a slap to the face, the guilt creeps in.

    She shouldn''t have to be here. She shouldn''t have to wake up to this mess, to a world that''s crumbling, to a boyfriend who keeps dragging her into hell with him.

    Stop it, Parker. Not the time for one of your famous self-loathing sessions.

    I carefully untangle myself from the bed, making sure not to wake her. After checking on May¡ªstill resting, still safe¡ªI slip out of the room.

    Downstairs, I find Felicia picking up the wreckage of what used to be a living room. The place is surprisingly cleaner than most high school house parties, which is saying something.

    "You don''t have to do that," I tell her, watching as she sweeps up shattered glass with steady, deliberate movements. "Not like we''re gonna be hosting any dinner parties anytime soon."

    She doesn''t respond. Just keeps working, her expression unreadable.

    "Felicia?"

    Silence.

    I step closer. "Hey¡ª"

    She flinches at my touch. Just for a second. Just enough for me to notice.

    "S-Sorry," I say, pulling my hand back.

    "No, it''s fine," she replies quickly. Too quickly. "I just... got lost in my own head."

    I offer a small smile. "It''s really good to see you again."

    She finally looks up at me, gripping the broom like it''s the only thing keeping her grounded. "Yeah," she says softly. "Good to see you too. I... I thought that after everything, after all the times you ran headfirst into danger or just vanished¡ªthat I''d get used to it. But I never do. It always feels like you''re never coming back."

    I try to lighten the mood. "Wow, you really have so little faith in me, huh?"

    She scoffs. "That''s not what I meant, dumbass."

    Her voice drops to something quieter, more fragile.

    "It''s just... you''re good, Peter. Stupidly good. Noble, selfless, brave. The kind of person who puts the entire city before himself, even when it breaks you. You''re¡ª" She stops, shaking her head. "I don''t even know what I''m saying right now."

    I step closer, nudging her with my elbow. "No, no, please¡ªgo on about how amazing I am. Really, I don''t mind."

    She rolls her eyes but cracks a smile, and for a second, it feels like old times.

    "It feels like a lifetime ago," she murmurs, staring at the broken floorboards. "The night I found you stumbling down the street, covered in blood and scratches. God, you were such a weirdo. What did you even say? That it was¡ªwhat? Method acting?"

    I groan. "Okay, to be fair, I had just gotten my ass kicked by a giant lizard. I wasn''t exactly thinking straight."

    Felicia chuckles, but then her expression shifts¡ªjust a little. Like there''s something else sitting on the edge of her tongue, something she''s not sure she wants to say.

    Then, after a beat, she twirls a piece of her brown hair around her finger and bites her lip, looking almost... nervous.

    "I''m glad it was you," she says finally. "Who walked his bloody ass into my life."

    I blink.

    That... that was unexpectedly sweet.

    I grin. "I like when you get all sentimental. Makes you seem a whole lot less scary."

    And there it is¡ªthe sharp glare, the one that could probably cut glass. "And there it is¡ªthe moment ruined. God, I try to have a real moment with you, and you just have to say something stupid."

    "Part of my charm," I say with a shrug.

    Felicia sighs, then takes a step closer. Before I can even think about what''s happening, she leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek.

    My brain promptly malfunctions.

    "Uh¡ªuh¡ªuh¡ª" I stammer, pointing weakly toward the stairs. "Girlfriend¡ªremember? Blonde, smart, upstairs?"

    Felicia smirks. "Relax, Parker. That wasn''t for me."

    I frown. "Then... what was it for?"

    She steps back, tossing the broom aside like she''s done with this whole conversation.

    "For coming back."

 Goblin City (Part Four)

    "NO time to waste," Felicia says, already making moves toward the door. "We should go now. And with you here, our job just got ten times easier."

    "Go where?" I ask, confused. Gwen''s hand finds mine, her grip tightening like she''s afraid I''ll disappear if she lets go.

    "To a safe place," Felicia reassures me. "Don''t worry¡ªthey have everything we need to take care of your aunt. Trust me."

    A little bit of the weight pressing down on my chest lifts. I run a hand through my hair, exhaling. "Alright, fine. Let''s go. But once we get there, and I know she''s safe¡ª"

    "I''m sorry," Connor cuts in, his voice skeptical. "I don''t mean to, uh... pry or anything, but how exactly is our situation any easier just because this guy showed up?" He gestures at me with an unimpressed look. "Getting out of here is still a nightmare. And taking that lady with us? Even harder."

    Felicia lets out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes. "Just shut up and let the grown-ups talk."

    Connor blinks at her, clearly taken aback. Which, honestly, isn''t surprising. Felicia still isn''t the best at people.

    "Okay, look," he says, throwing up his hands. "I get that he''s your long-lost buddy and all, but those things out there? They''re seriously dangerous. We don''t even know what we''re walking into. Unless we find another crazy hunter guy willing to do all the hard work, I don''t wanna step outside just to get killed."

    Felicia steps toward him, her stare sharp enough to cut through steel. "If you''d rather stay here and keep the goblins company, be my guest. But I''m going with Peter."

    "So am I," Gwen adds, her voice steady. She looks at Connor like he''s the one who''s crazy, not her. "You can trust Pete."

    Connor looks between the two of them, as if waiting for someone else in the room to have common sense. When no one speaks up, he lets out a frustrated groan. "Yeah, okay. Whatever."

    I feel a little bad. But, I mean... does he not remember me punching Kraven through a wall? That did happen, right?

    I shake the thought away. "Alright, like I was saying¡ªonce we get to this safe place, we''re gonna have to split up."

    That earns immediate protests.

    "What?" Gwen blurts out, her grip on my hand tightening even more.

    Felicia scoffs, folding her arms. "You''ve got another thing coming, Sp¡ªParker, if you think you''re just gonna¡ª" She pauses, suddenly catching herself. Her eyes flick to Gwen, and I see something shift in her expression. Her face softens just a little. "Uh... you tell him, Gwen."

    Gwen doesn''t hesitate. She turns to me, eyes locked onto mine, and I already know she''s not backing down. "She''s right. You just got back to me, and there is no way I''m letting you out of my sight again."

    I sigh, holding up my hands in surrender. "I get it, okay? I do. But I''m responsible for what happened to this city. And if I''m gonna fix it, I have to do things¡ªdangerous things. Things I don''t want any of you anywhere near."

    "That''s not your decision to make," Gwen shoots back. Her voice isn''t angry¡ªit''s pleading. "I can''t let you run off again. I just... I can''t."

    I step a little closer to her, ignoring the death glare Felicia''s drilling into the side of my head. "I know it''s not fair, and¡ª"

    "Not this time, Peter," Gwen interrupts, shaking her head. "Every time you give me some speech, and every time I give into you and I let you go. But not this time. I can''t. I really can''t."

    Her lip trembles slightly, and I can tell she''s fighting to keep it together.

    I let out a deep breath. "Okay. You win."

    Gwen''s face lights up instantly, and the sudden shift makes me chuckle.

    "But only if you promise to do what I say," I add, raising a warning eyebrow. "If there''s danger, you run. No arguing, no hesitating. You get out of there."

    "Yes, of course. Don''t worry¡ªI''ll have your back."

    "No, you won''t," I correct. "I''ll be watching your back... as you run away."

    Gwen nods quickly, the grin never leaving her face. "Sure. Definitely. That''s what I meant."

    Felicia coughs dramatically, reminding everyone she''s still here. "Yeah, okay, well, you''re not leaving me behind either."

    Gwen turns to her, and something passes between them¡ªsome kind of silent exchange I don''t quite understand. But Felicia keeps her eyes trained on me, like she doesn''t notice. Or maybe like she''s pretending not to.

    "Wouldn''t you rather stay somewhere safe¡ª"

    Felicia raises a hand, cutting me off. "Do we really have to do this?"

    I sigh. Again. "Fine."

    I turn to Connor, who looks at Felicia, then back at me. There''s a flicker of hesitation before he shrugs. "Well... if she''s going, then I guess I''m going too."

    I glance at Felicia, confused. She just shrugs again.

    "Right. Then grab whatever you need. We''re moving out."

    Everyone starts gathering supplies, but before they can fully relax, I clear my throat. "Oh, and one more thing."

    They all turn their attention back to me, and I make sure to meet every single one of their eyes before speaking again.

    "When it comes time to finding Norman... none of you are coming with me."

    Gwen''s brows furrow instantly. "Peter¡ª"

    "None of you," I repeat, this time a little sharper than I intended.

    She flinches slightly at the edge in my voice. I regret it, but I don''t take it back.

    Felicia''s lips part like she wants to say something. But, for once, she doesn''t.

    And I appreciate that.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    With everything I need¡ªextra web cartridges, a spare suit, and a few masks of my own design¡ªI follow Gwen and Felicia through the ruined city. The entire time, I hold May in my arms, cradling her close.

    A sense of relief washes over me. She''s here, with me, and nothing will happen to her as long as I''m breathing. As I glance at Gwen and Felicia leading the way, I realize I feel the same way about them.

    Oh, and... Connor too, I guess.

    The journey isn''t easy. We have close calls¡ªtoo many. Blocks burn as we pass, the city around us a skeleton of what it once was. Every shadow feels like a threat, every sound an omen. But after pushing through the wreckage, dodging dangers lurking in the dark, we finally reach the safe house¡ªhidden beneath an old subway station.

    Before we even have a chance to breathe, a group of makeshift guards approaches. My fists clench on instinct, but I force myself to let them take May from me. I follow them in silence as they lead me to the medical bay, watching as they carefully place her in a cot.

    Then, I sit. Hours pass as I stay by her side, holding her hand, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. She looks so peaceful. Like she''s just taking a nap, like she''ll wake up at any moment and tell me to quit worrying.

    An ugly thought creeps in.

    What if she never wakes up?

    I squeeze her hand tighter.

    No. I can''t think like that.

    Parkers don''t give up.

    Ben didn''t. I won''t. And neither will May.

    The road ahead is going to be brutal¡ªwhen isn''t it? Every battle, every moment I''ve fought for this city... The Lizard, Scorpion, that weird shock-glove guy¡ªwhat was his name? Doesn''t matter. Every fight has taught me something that Ben always knew I had in me.

    Spider-Man never gives up.

    A hand touches my shoulder, warm and grounding.

    I turn to see Gwen, smiling that soft, reassuring smile¡ªthe one that never fails to make my chest feel lighter. "Hey," she whispers. "Everything will be okay. We''re together again."

    Before I can respond, a familiar voice calls out from the entrance of the medical tent.

    "Peter? Oh my, I can''t believe you''re here."

    I look up to see Helen Stacy stepping inside, her expression wavering between disbelief and relief. Before I can even think, she wraps me in a tight hug.

    "How are you?" she asks, pulling back to look me over. "Are you okay?"

    I manage a small smile, touched by her concern¡ªlike she hasn''t lost so much already, and still has room in her heart to care for me. "I''m okay, ma''am."

    Her face softens, but when I look into her eyes, I see it¡ªthe sadness lingering just beneath the surface. I want to apologize. For everything. But then I remember Gwen''s words from yesterday.

    "I''m really glad you''re¡ª"

    Before I can finish, Helen pulls me into another hug¡ªone that reminds me of May, of warmth, of safety. And I feel my chest tighten, a sting in my eyes that I fight to suppress.

    "It''s okay, dear," she murmurs. "I''m not sure what you''ve been doing to survive out there... Lord knows what you must have seen. But you''re here now. And you''re safe."

    I swallow hard, nodding.

    Helen pulls back, glancing at May, then at Gwen. And then, her face changes.

    "I won''t say I''m not pissed, Gwen," she says, her voice firmer now. "You left without a word. I had to hear about it from Mavis. Even if it was for Peter, how could you? After..."

    She trails off, but Gwen and I both know what she means. After George Stacy.

    "Mom, I''m sorry," Gwen says quietly, stepping in front of her mother. "But if it were you out there... I just know Peter would''ve done the same thing for me. I know it was¡ª"

    "Stupid!" Helen''s voice cracks, more worried than angry. "You''re not some superhero, Gwen! And I won''t lose another member of this family. Not again."

    Gwen lowers her head, guilt written all over her face.

    I hesitate before slipping my fingers between hers, gripping her hand tightly.

    "Ma''am," I start, my voice steady, "I know this might not be my place to say. But your daughter... she takes a lot after her dad." Helen''s breath hitches slightly, and I continue. "She may not have superpowers, but given what she was willing to do for my family¡ªshe''s certainly my hero. And I''m thankful."

    Helen exhales, rubbing her temples. "Gosh, you kids..." She shakes her head, then sighs. "This isn''t the time for this. Get some rest. We''ll talk later. But for now, I''m just... glad you''re all safe."

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    With that, she turns and leaves.

    Gwen still looks guilty, staring at the ground.

    "I was stupid to think she wouldn''t find out," she mutters. "But Peter, you have to know... I don''t regret a single thing."

    I look at her then, into her bright blue eyes, and see how much she means it.

    "I''d follow you anywhere."

    I pull her closer, our lips nearly touching. "You sure about that? My life... it''s not always easy."

    Gwen doesn''t hesitate. She looks at me like I''m the only thing in the world that matters. "What''s your favorite color?"

    I blink, thrown off by the sudden change. "...Uh. Red?"

    She smiles. "How about your favorite food?"

    I narrow my eyes. "That''s a tough one. Gotta go with cheeseburgers. Oh, but can I pick a favorite dessert, too? Because then it''s cherry pie."

    She giggles. "Okay. And your favorite movie?"

    "Back to the Future. Obviously." I give her a curious look. "Okay, what''s with all the questions?"

    Gwen takes my hand, pressing it against her chest. I feel the warmth of her skin, the steady, rhythmic beating of her heart.

    "There are so many parts of your life I don''t know," she whispers. "Parts you kept from me. Parts I haven''t seen yet. You tell me it''s not always easy to be a part of your life, but..."

    She steps even closer. My breath catches.

    "Do you feel that?" she asks, voice barely above a whisper. "It''s what happens every time I see you. Every time you touch me. Every time you kiss me. Peter, every time I''m with you... all I can think about is how I want more."

    I stare into her eyes, and I know exactly what she means.

    Because it''s everything I have felt for her since we were kids.

    "And even though I''ll be out there risking my life every night... even though I might bring danger..." I murmur. "You still¡ª"

    She kisses me.

    Soft, slow, lingering.

    And I know it isn''t just a kiss.

    It''s a promise.

    When she pulls back, she smiles. "Peter, you and I will be stuck together like glue."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I take a breath, glancing between Gwen and Felicia as I try to gather my thoughts. "Okay, so... I don''t have all the details figured out yet, but here''s what I got." I lean forward, lowering my voice. "I need to find Doctor Octavius and Doctor Connors. They know the most about cross-species DNA and whatever twisted science Norman was cooking up. But they''re not the only ones. Back at that facility¡ªthere was a guy, some scientist, who was trying to use my blood to create a cure."

    Felicia raises an eyebrow, her arms crossed as she leans against the wall, unimpressed. Gwen sits beside me, fingers curled tightly in her lap.

    "If I can find them¡ªOctavius, Connors, and they can help with the research that Virgil was doing¡ªthe scientist guy by the way¡ªmaybe we have a shot at fixing this," I continue. "That''s assuming they''re still alive and haven''t gone completely off the deep end."

    Gwen nods, but Felicia just stares at me. Then she bursts into laughter. "Oh my God, you''re serious."

    I frown. "What?"

    Felicia gestures vaguely. "You want help from two guys who made it their life''s mission to murder you? This is your genius idea? How can we even trust them?"

    I shrug. "We don''t have to trust them. But I''m willing to bet they hate Norman a whole lot more than they hate me. So trust that."

    Felicia gives me a long, skeptical look. Then she sighs. "You''re an idiot."

    "But it''s a good plan, right?" I ask.

    Felicia smirks. "No, it''s a terrible plan. But it''s the best one we''ve got, so sure."

    I roll my eyes, but Gwen smiles at me, and that makes me feel at least a little better.

    Felicia pushes off the wall. "Alright, then. We should leave tonight."

    "Wait," I say, looking at Gwen. "What about your mom? I mean... she''s going to kill us."

    Gwen sighs, rubbing her temple. "Yeah. Let me deal with that." Her voice is tight, and I don''t miss the flicker of guilt in her eyes. "She''s not gonna like it, but I have to do this. I can''t just sit around while you do all of this alone."

    I hesitate. "Okay. But... I don''t think we should bring Connor." I turn to Felicia, hoping that she''ll understand.

    Felicia frowns. "Uh, why are you saying that to me?"

    I blink. "I mean... aren''t you two, you know..." I gesture vaguely.

    Felicia recoils like I just spit in her drink. "What the fuck? Obviously not you moron. I just met him."

    I glance at Gwen, who just shakes her head, clearly amused.

    "Oh," I say. "Sorry, I just thought¡ª"

    Felicia throws up her hands. "You''re so oblivious, Parker." She mutters, so low that I almost couldn''t hear it.

    What''s she mean by that?

    I open my mouth to ask, but before I can, Gwen nudges me with her elbow. "Focus, dork."

    Right. The plan.

    Before once again I can say anything else, a voice cuts through the conversation.

    "Hey, guys!"

    Connor walks in, balancing a few trays of food like he''s proud of himself. "So... ready to discuss the plan?"

    Felicia, Gwen, and I exchange glances.

    Oh, boy.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Night falls fast, and somehow, Gwen manages to sneak out whatever gear she needs without her mom catching her and strangling her on sight. Felicia stuck by my side the entire night until it was time to meet up with Gwen.

    Connor, thankfully, is more than happy to stay behind¡ªprobably because he has no idea what''s actually going on. But that just leaves us with one problem.

    The guards.

    There are two of them, standing at the only exit of the underground shelter, looking way more alert than I''d like. Big guys, too. One''s absently spinning a baton in his hand like he wants an excuse to use it, while the other keeps scanning the tunnels like a paranoid meerkat.

    Felicia leans against the wall, unimpressed. "Alright, what''s the play here, fearless leader?"

    "Uh," I say, rubbing the back of my neck. "We could try sneaking past them?"

    Felicia snorts. "Yeah, sure. Maybe they''ll be legally blind and deaf."

    Gwen hums, tapping her chin. "We could bribe them?"

    I stare at her. "With what? Do you have a secret stash of gold bars I don''t know about?"

    "I have gum?" she offers with a smile, and I smile back at her.

    "Good one."

    Felicia sighs. "You two seriously piss me off."

    "Okay, okay," I whisper. "How about... a distraction?"

    Gwen grins. "Ooooh, I like that."

    Felicia eyes her warily. "I don''t."

    "Oh, come on," Gwen says. "I''ll just¡ªoh! I know exactly what to do."

    Before I can stop her, Gwen casually strides right up to the guards, her hands behind her back, smiling like she just ran into some old friends.

    Felicia and I exchange a glance.

    "Be ready to just go knock their asses out," Felicia mutters.

    "Yup."

    We listen in as Gwen stops in front of the guards, tilting her head in mock curiosity.

    "Hey, guys," she says, resting a hand on her hip. "Quick question¡ªhave either of you seen a huge, huge rat running around? Like, mutant-level huge?"

    The guards blink. "Uh... what? What are you doing out here? It''s¡ª"

    Gwen leans in. "I swear I just saw something scurry past that tunnel. Big. Red eyes. Definitely demonic."

    The baton-spinning guy stiffens. "Wait, you mean that tunnel?"

    "Yup," Gwen says. "I think it''s watching us."

    The guards immediately turn their heads, squinting into the dimly lit tunnel, muttering about how they knew something was off about this place.

    And that''s my cue.

    I drop down behind them silently, crouching low. Felicia watches from the shadows, arms folded, nodding in approval. I move quickly, striking the first guy with a gentle thwip of webbing, yanking him back into a sleeper hold. He barely has time to react before his knees buckle and he slumps into unconsciousness.

    The other guy starts to turn¡ªso I do the same thing, webbing his mouth before he can yell, grabbing him in a firm, but completely painless hold until he goes limp.

    Gwen, meanwhile, is still pointing dramatically at the tunnel. "Okay, so it''s either a giant rat or an extremely angry chihuahua¡ª"

    I clear my throat. She turns and sees both guards slumped against the wall, peacefully unconscious.

    She grins. "Oh, nice work, Pete. You''re seriously awesome, that was straight out of a comic."

    Felicia shakes her head. "I hate how well that worked."

    Gwen winks. "I told you I''d make a great girl in the chair. Although I wasn''t really sitting in a chair. You get what I mean."

    "Uh-huh." Felicia gestures toward the now-clear exit. "Let''s go."

    I nod, giving Gwen a little nudge. "Come on, Rat Whisperer. Let''s get out of here."

    Gwen rolls her eyes, but as we slip out into the city, I catch the hint of a proud smirk on her face.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Once we''re safely away from the shelter, I pull out my tattered old map of New York, spreading it out over a rusted dumpster lid under the dim glow of a broken streetlight. The city''s almost unrecognizable now, torn apart by the chaos Norman unleashed. It''s like looking at the ruins of something that used to be home but isn''t anymore.

    I run a gloved finger along the map, outlining the path to our destination. "Alright," I say, tapping a section circled in red. "This is where we need to go¡ªthe prison."

    Gwen and Felicia peer over my shoulder. The prison looks far.

    Felicia whistles. "That''s a hike."

    "Yeah, no kidding," I say. "I think Dr. Octavius, Vulture, and the others were being held here before everything went sideways. If they''re alive, that''s where we''ll find them."

    Gwen crosses her arms. "And if they''re not?"

    I sigh. "Then we''re back to square one. But I''m willing to bet Norman wouldn''t just let them out of the city without a fight."

    Felicia smirks. "So what, he keeps them around because they''re useful? "

    I shake my head. "I''m not sure, it''s not like he would trust them." I fold the map and shove it into my suit. "Either way, it''s a bit of a journey."

    Felicia cracks her knuckles. "Then let''s get moving."

    And so we do.

    ?

    The city''s a graveyard. What used to be New York¡ªthe heartbeat of the world¡ªis now a wasteland filled with flickering fires, broken buildings. We move carefully, sticking to alleyways, rooftops, and underground tunnels when we can.

    We leap across rooftops, the wind whipping against our faces. I land first, crouching low as I turn to help Gwen across. She reaches out, and I pull her up effortlessly, but she stumbles just a little¡ªenough that she practically falls into me.

    Her hands rest against my chest. My arms instinctively go around her waist.

    We just... stay there for a second.

    Gwen looks up at me, her bright blue eyes filled with something warm. "Guess I need to work on my superhero landings," she says, her voice light, teasing.

    I chuckle. "Nah, you''re doing great."

    Behind us, Felicia clears her throat. Loudly.

    We both jump apart. Gwen laughs softly. I rub the back of my neck, turning away.

    ?

    At some point, we have to take a tunnel through the sewers. It''s dark, disgusting, and I swear I see something moving in the water.

    Gwen gags. "Oh my God, this was a terrible idea."

    "Agreed," Felicia mutters.

    "I''d like to remind everyone that this was the fastest route," I say, grimacing as my foot squelches into something I definitely don''t want to think about.

    Gwen pinches her nose. "Fastest doesn''t mean best, Peter."

    "Hey, it could be worse," I say. "At least we''re not being hunted down by a guy with a lion vest and a very concerning obsession with spears."

    Felicia raises an eyebrow. "Kraven?"

    "Yeah. That was a fun day," I say sarcastically, stepping over a pipe. "After I took that arrow to the leg I had to limp my way through a place exactly like this."

    Gwen stops mid-step. "Wait. You got shot? In the leg?"

    I wince. Maybe I shouldn''t have said that.

    "I got better?" I offer weakly.

    Gwen''s eyes narrow. "Peter¡ª"

    "Look, it was a long time ago! I was fine! Mostly." I shrug. "Lost a lot of blood, though. And wow, when Felicia pulled that thing out¡ª"

    "Peter."

    I pause, finally noticing the worry in her voice. She''s standing there, arms crossed, looking at me like I just told her I casually walked through fire for fun.

    Felicia chuckles. "Your stupidity is kind of amazing to watch."

    I hold up my hands. "Okay, okay, I maybe should''ve mentioned that story sooner, but in my defense¡ª"

    "No defense," Gwen cuts me off. "I''m not mad at you, I''m mad at¡ªat¡ª" She looks around like she''s looking for someone to blame. "¡ªOh whatever. I just can''t believe there''s been so many times you''ve nearly died and I would''ve been completely in the dark."

    I sigh. "Gwen, I''m fine. I''m always fine."

    She doesn''t look convinced, but she lets out a breath and keeps walking. "Of course you will. Because I''m here now."

    Felicia nudges me, a sly smile on her face. "You''re good at making pretty girls worry."

    I sigh. "Yeah. I know." Then I take a moment to think about what she just said. "Wait huh?"

    ?

    After a few close calls and way too much running, we take refuge in an old bookstore that somehow survived the destruction. Dust coats the shelves, but it''s quiet, safe.

    I sit against the wall, stretching out my legs. Gwen sits beside me, resting her head against my shoulder. "I totally feel like we''re in a comic right now." she murmurs.

    I nod. "Yeah. A real horror story."

    She''s silent for a moment. Then, "Peter?"

    "Yeah?"

    "...Do you think we''ll ever get the city back? Like, really get it back?"

    I want to tell her yes, but the truth is¡ªI don''t know.

    Instead, I squeeze her hand. "We''re gonna do everything we can."

    She smiles. "I know."

    Across the room, Felicia watches us from where she''s perched on a bookshelf. Her expression is unreadable, but there''s something in her eyes¡ªsomething almost... sad.

    ?

    The prison looms in the distance, barely visible through the thick smog choking the city.

    Felicia cracks her neck. "Alright, lovebirds, time to get moving."

    Gwen rolls her eyes but nudges me to stand up. I stretch, my muscles aching.

    We exchange a look.

    We''ve made it this far.

    No turning back now.

    We stand in front of the ruined prison, its once-imposing structure now cracked and broken, like the city around it. The place is eerily silent, the usual hum of security systems long dead. Wind howls through shattered windows, carrying the distant sounds of goblins shrieking in the city.

    I turn to Gwen and Felicia, adjusting the strap of my bag. "Alright, I go in alone. You two stay put until I give the all-clear."

    Gwen crosses her arms, already looking ready to argue. "Peter, come on. We''re right here. You need backup."

    I shake my head. "No, Gwen. We talked about this. You agreed¡ªwhen things get serious, you do what I say."

    Her expression shifts, torn between frustration and understanding. I can see the fight in her eyes, the urge to stand beside me no matter what.

    Felicia exhales sharply. "He''s right. If things go south, you and I will only be in the way."

    Gwen sighs, clearly hating this but knowing she can''t back out now. "Fine. But you better not take forever."

    I smirk. "Trust me I plan to get out as soon as possible." I reach into my bag, pulling out two spare masks. "Here. Just in case."

    Gwen''s eyes light up as she takes hers. "Oh, this is awesome. I feel like a real superhero." She slips it on, striking a playful pose before quickly remembering the situation and standing straight again.

    Felicia, on the other hand, looks down at hers like I just handed her a tax form. "You''ve gotta be kidding me," she mutters. "Do I have to?"

    "Yes." I give her a pointed look. "If I manage to work something out with Doc Ock, I don''t want him recognizing you guys later. Just put it on."

    She groans but pulls it over her face. "This''ll be the one and only time."

    Gwen grins under her mask. "You actually look kinda cool."

    Felicia glares. "Shut up."

    I chuckle, rolling my shoulders before stepping toward the broken entrance. "Stay put. If anything happens¡ª"

    "I know, I know," Gwen interrupts. "We run and let you handle it." Her voice is laced with reluctance, but she means it.

    I rummage through my bag and pull out my suit. "Alright, give me a sec. Gotta change," I say, nodding toward a cluster of dead trees a few feet away.

    Gwen gives me a smile. "Cool, this is the first time I get to see your suit up scene."

    Felicia snorts, crossing her arms. "Why bother hiding to change? It''s not anything I haven''t seen before." She smirks.

    Gwen blushes, looking at me with a cute frown. "She''s kidding right?"

    I shoot Felicia a look. "Yes! Yes, she''s kidding."

    "Whatever, just hurry up. Not like I wanna sit here and watch you fumble into an embarrassing suit." Felicia teases, smirking.

    I roll my eyes and slip behind the trees. As I start changing, Gwen calls out, "Don''t listen to her! It''s all part of the superhero experience!"

    Felicia chuckles. "Uh-huh. Sure. Meanwhile, I''m just picturing him hopping on one leg, trying not to fall over."

    "For the record, that''s not happening," I call back, right before my foot catches on the fabric and I stumble into the tree. The bark scrapes my shoulder, and I bite back a curse.

    Felicia clicks her tongue. "Real graceful, Spidey."

    Gwen, ever the optimist, claps her hands. "Ignore her! You''re doing great!"

    This is so embarrassing.

    Sighing, I finish zipping up and pull my mask over my head, stepping back out with as much dignity as I can manage. "Okay, I''m ready."

    Felicia smirks. "Yeah, yeah, real heroic. Now go do your thing before I start calling you Tree-Hugger-Man."

    Gwen elbows her. "I think he looks great." Then she turns to me, eyes bright. "Be careful, okay?"

    "Always." Then, I give her one last look before swinging over the trees and in front of the entrance of the prison. My senses are on high alert. If Octavius is in here, I need to find him fast. And if he''s not alone... well, I''ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I land lightly inside the prison, crouched low as my eyes adjust to the dim emergency lighting. The air is thick with dust, metal, and something stale¡ªlike sweat and desperation soaked into the walls. It''s eerily silent, the only sounds the occasional flicker and buzz of dying overhead lights.

    Straightening up, I scan the area. The upper levels are abandoned¡ªopen cell doors, overturned chairs, rusted meal trays scattered across the floor. Whatever happened here, it wasn''t a slow evacuation. It was chaos.

    At the end of the corridor, I spot a large, reinforced door, its security locks long since disabled. That''s where I need to go.

    The lower levels.

    Where they kept the worst of the worst.

    Then the lights begin to flicker. Slowly at first, like a hesitant heartbeat, then more erratically, pulsing with increasing intensity. My Spider-Sense flares like an alarm in my skull.

    "Don''t remember any ghosts getting locked up here," I mutter, shifting my stance.

    Electricity converges in a single point in front of me, crackling and surging, growing brighter and brighter until I have to turn away. Then the shape starts to form¡ªhumanoid, searing with blue-white energy.

    And just like that, I know exactly who I''m dealing with.

    "Long time, Spider-Man." Electro grins as he fully materializes, arcs of electricity dancing along his arms.

    "Max," I say, taking a few careful steps back. "Look, buddy, I know the last time we met, I kinda sprayed you down with a fire hydrant, then punched you in the face, but¡ª"

    "You''re right. You did." His grin sharpens. "And I never got to return the favor."

    He thrusts a hand forward, sending a jagged bolt of lightning right at me. I twist out of the way, launching myself into a shattered window of a nearby office.

    "Max! Come on, man," I call, flipping onto the ceiling as another bolt obliterates the desk below me. "Is this really the kind of reunion you had in mind? No ''Hey, Spidey! Good job on not dying!'' Or¡ª" I dodge again as another bolt explodes against the wall. "¡ªOr here''s a good one! ''Hey Spidey! I turned over a new leaf, let''s call a truce?''"

    Another growl, another charge. I web the far wall and launch myself forward, twisting midair. At the last second, I kick off a hanging light fixture and shoot straight toward him, slamming both feet into his chest.

    Electro crashes into the far wall with a grunt, debris raining down around him.

    With Max, speed is the key. He''s powerful, sure¡ªbut he''s not great at¡ª

    A wild arc of electricity forces me into a backward flip, barely dodging the strike.

    "Jeez, Max, you''re getting predictable," I taunt, landing on a broken railing. "I mean, did you even try aiming that one?"

    He snarls, sending another bolt straight at me. Instead of dodging, I leap forward, webbing the floor behind him and yanking myself toward him at full speed. He barely has time to react before I spin in the air and kick the ceiling above him¡ªhard.

    A massive chunk of concrete collapses, burying him beneath rubble. The whole room trembles from the impact, dust and smoke clouding the air. Only his hand sticks out from the wreckage, fingers twitching with residual sparks.

    I land lightly a few feet away, brushing off my suit. "So, Maxy. We gonna talk calmly now?"

    A deep growl echoes from under the debris.

    "What was that, buddy?" I take a step closer.

    The rubble suddenly glows with blue light, and before I can react, a surge of electricity explodes outward, sending debris flying and knocking me off my feet. I slam into a wall, pain flaring through my back as sparks dance around the room.

    Electro stands, his body fully charged, eyes glowing with pure energy.

    "I said you''re dead!"

    I groan, pushing myself up, rolling my shoulders. "Dude, do you have any idea how expensive this suit is? You''re wrecking my whole aesthetic."

    "You ruined my life!" he roars, arcs of electricity crackling around him, distorting the air. "The whole world turned against me because of you!"

    I hold up a hand, taking a careful step forward. "You''re wrong, Max. It wasn''t me. It was Norman Osborn who ruined your life."

    His eyes flicker. He hesitates. Just for a second.

    "Norman... is the Goblin?"

    "That''s right." I nod. "He''s the one who turned this place into a nightmare. And I know how to fix it."

    Electro''s energy wavers slightly, the crackling around his body losing intensity.

    "Why would I want things to go back?" he mutters. "I''m free now."

    "Are you?" I take another step forward. "You remember the first day you got your powers? What we talked about on that rooftop?"

    Silence.

    "You wanted to help people, Max. To be someone. You can''t erase what you''ve done. And maybe you''ll never make up for it. But it''s never too late to try."

    His expression darkens, but the storm around him calms.

    "What do you want?"

    I exhale slowly. "I''m guessing if you''re here, the rest of the gang is, too. If I have any shot at reversing what Norman did, I need to see Doc Ock. And Connors."

    Electro stares at me for a long moment.

    Then, finally, he turns, motioning for me to follow. "I''ll take you to them. But if they decide to kill you? I won''t stop them."

    I grin under my mask.

    I think that means he''s warming up to me.

 Goblin City (Part Five)

    ELECTRO leads me deeper into the prison''s underbelly, where the air is thick with oil, sweat, and something else I can''t really put into words¡ªkinda like my socks after a night out as Spider-Man.

    The place is alive with movement.

    Inmates swarm like worker ants, welding metal, wiring up devices, sketching rough blueprints on the walls. Most likely trying to fortify this place to keep the Goblins out.

    I take it all in, shaking my head. "This is exactly how I pictured Doc Ock running a prison."

    We weave through the chaos until I spot a crowd gathered around a rusted-out table. Mac Gargan¡ªScorpion¡ªis locked in an arm-wrestling match with two other inmates.

    His biceps twitch, veins bulging, sweat dripping from his shaved head. Across from him, the other two guys are straining so hard their faces look like overinflated balloons.

    Then there''s Aleksei Sytsevich¡ªRhino¡ªstanding nearby, laughing so hard he nearly topples over.

    "Come now! You lose to these little men, I break your arms myself!" Rhino bellows, smacking the table hard enough to make it groan.

    Gargan grits his teeth. "Why don''t you shut your mouth? I have to win with my honest strength! I wasn''t given rhino steroids!"

    One of the guys across from Gargan gasps out, "You''re¡ªgonna¡ªlose¡ª"

    Gargan, with zero hesitation, slams their hands to the table so hard it cracks down the middle. The crowd erupts, some laughing, some groaning.

    Rhino claps his massive hands. "Hah! Lucky! Next time, we do four men!"

    I take another step forward, and that''s when everything stops.

    Adrian Toomes¡ªthe Vulture¡ªis the first to notice me. His beady eyes widen. His voice cuts through the air like a blade.

    "The Amazing Spider-Man lives."

    The room goes silent. All at once, every head turns. Hands tighten into fists. I can feel the weight of their stares, the raw, simmering hatred behind them.

    Yeesh, I can''t tell if I have a better relationship with these bozos or with the people of New York.

    Electro steps forward like he owns the place. "Relax everyone. He''s here to talk."

    "To talk?" Gargan sneers. His fists curl, his knuckles popping. "You really stupid enough to show your face after what you did to us?"

    Rhino cracks his neck. "Da. Maybe we kill him now. It would make my day."

    Adrian studies me with sharp, calculating eyes. "Max," he says, voice low and dangerous, "why haven''t you fried him yet?"

    Electro shifts. His jaw clenches. "Because...Maybe there''s a chance we can take care of the mess that Goblin freak got us all into."

    Gargan scoffs. "What mess? We got no cops. No military. No one telling us what to do. It''s paradise."

    "No, it''s not," Electro snaps, his voice cracking with something deeper. "You know those pills the Doc told us about? The ones turning people into those Goblin monsters? He said they got into hospitals. Into pharmacies. My mom... she was sick. I don''t know if she took one. I don''t know if she''s¡ª" His hands tighten into fists, electricity sparking at his fingertips. "She might think of me as just a monster now...but...she''s still my mom. And I can''t¡ª" His voice cracks a bit.

    That actually makes the room pause.

    It''s not surprising Doctor Octavius would''ve told them all about the Goblin pills considering how close he and Doctor Connor''s worked with Norman on his projects.

    Toomes exhales, rubbing a hand down his face. "My granddaughter''s out there. Haven''t seen her since this whole nightmare started." His voice is quiet, but there''s a sharp edge underneath it. "Not like I haven''t thought about wanting to...fix things as well. But, working with the bug?"

    I glance between them, then back at the rest of the inmates. "You can hate me all you want," I say, my voice steady. A flash of memory hits me¡ªour last fight, all of them against me, my ribs cracking from Rhino, Gargan''s tail slicing past my face, Octavius'' arms nearly crushing me. I push it down. "But we all hate Norman more."

    Rhino growls at the name, his fist slamming into the wall. It caves under the force like wet cardboard.

    I nod. "Yeah. That''s what I thought."

    Toomes crosses his arms. "Even if we agree, why should we help the guy who locked us all up? Why don''t we just kill you, then get rid of Osborn ourselves?"

    "Because if you could''ve killed Osborn, you''d have done it already." I take a step forward. "And I''m guessing not even the great Dr. Octavius knows that Norman Osborn...is the Green Goblin."

    The room goes dead still.

    Gargan looks around. "The hell are you talking about?"

    "I thought Goblin was just another freak experiment," Toomes mutters.

    Then, metal clanks against stone. The sound echoes through the silence.

    I turn.

    Dr. Otto Octavius steps into the room, his mechanical arms clicking into place. His expression is unreadable.

    Then he smiles.

    "Spider-Man," he says, his voice smooth and knowing. "Isn''t this a surprise."

    I stay still, watching him carefully.

    "I had my suspicions, of course," he continues, as if we''re having a casual conversation over coffee instead of standing in the middle of a lawless prison compound. "After the chaos that befell this city five months ago, I calculated a ninety percent probability that the Goblin¡ªno, excuse me, Norman Osborn¡ªhad failed in his attempts to kill you as we have. And so, here you are. As alive as I would''ve expected." His head tilts slightly. "Fascinating."

    I cross my arms, doing my best to keep my voice even. "Gee, Doc. Missed you too."

    Electro steps forward, eyes narrowed. "Wait¡ªso you knew? This whole time? You knew Norman was the Goblin?"

    Octavius doesn''t even hesitate. "Of course I knew. It was blatantly obvious."

    Electro''s hands spark dangerously, a low hum filling the air. "And you never thought to tell us?!"

    Octavius doesn''t flinch. "What would you have done with that knowledge, Max? You seem to believe we had some sort of power over Osborn. We didn''t. Even now, we don''t." He gestures around the room. "The city is overrun with his creations. And without electricity running through most of New York, I''d say you''re not quite the force you once were, are you?"

    Electro looks like he''s about to lunge at him, and honestly, I don''t blame him. I can practically feel the rage rolling off him.

    I step between them before things get out of hand. "Alright, as much as I love watching you guys work through your deep-seated issues, let''s focus. We all want the same thing¡ªto take down Norman."

    Octavius raises a brow. "And why, pray tell, would we ever help you do such a thing? If it''s even possible."

    "I''m working with someone¡ªhis name''s Virgil," I say. "He''s using my blood to help create some kind of cure. But we need more than just my DNA to make it work. And you, Doc, along with Connors, know Norman''s research better than anyone. With you two on board, our chances of fixing this whole mess go way up."

    Octavius hums, considering this. "Intriguing. A cure... And what would I get in return, I wonder?"

    I already know where this is going. "If you''re about to ask for a vacation in the Bahamas, I¡ª"

    "Freedom," Octavius interjects, his voice calm but firm. "I have no desire to live in a world overrun with Norman''s beasts. I have a mind that could change the world, Spider-Man. And I''d much rather do it in a civilized society." He meets my gaze. "As a free man."

    The other members of the Sinister Six murmur in agreement.

    "We want the same," Toomes adds, his beady eyes sharp.

    "Da," Rhino grunts. "I do not like being locked up in basement. Smells bad."

    "You smell bad," Gargan mutters.

    "Ha! Talk to me when you win against me in the arms of wrestling!"

    "I didn''t lose¡ª!"

    "Enough," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Look, I''m gonna be real with you¡ªfreedom? Probably not happening. You guys have done, like, a lot of unforgivable things. But if you help bring this city back? Maybe we can figure something out. At the very least, we can improve your living situation. I mean, anything''s gotta be better than this basement."

    "Depends," Gargan mutters. "We got a pool table."

    "You have a what?" I blink. "Wait, no. Doesn''t matter."

    The group exchanges glances, their expressions varying between reluctant and intrigued. Finally, Toomes exhales through his nose. "I suppose it beats sitting around waiting to see which one of us gets turned into a Goblin next."

    Rhino cracks his knuckles. "I get to hit something, da?"

    "Lots of things," I assure him.

    "Then I am in."

    Electro folds his arms. "I wanna see this cure for myself. If it''s real, I''ll help."

    Gargan scowls, but eventually shrugs. "Tch. Fine."

    Octavius clasps his hands together. "Well then, it appears we have an agreement."

    I let out a slow breath. "Great. So, where''s Connors?"

    Octavius smirks. "Ah. Now he might be a bit harder to convince."

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Gwen taps her fingers against the ground, her other hand propping up her cheek as she stares at the grass. The silence between her and Felicia stretches, broken only by the distant hum of the city.

    Through the tree line, she can just make out the prison. No matter how hard she tries, she can''t stop imagining all the things that could be happening to Peter in there.

    She wonders if her father had known Peter''s secret. The thought had never crossed her mind before.

    "I wouldn''t worry," Felicia says, finally breaking the silence. "Peter''s gotten out of worse situations than whatever''s going on in there."

    "Not that I would know," Gwen replies, her tone flat. She turns to Felicia. "You must be pretty close, though. Since he trusted you with his secret all this time."

    Felicia scoffs, tugging off the mask Peter had given her. "I wouldn''t call it trust at first. I just... found out. After that, well..." She trails off, remembering how she''d roped him into helping her with Herman Schultz, how he''d saved her and her friends. "I don''t think he actually trusted me until much later."

    Gwen nods. "Pete mentioned you were having issues with your dad. That''s why you started staying at his place."

    Felicia glances at Gwen, noting the mask still on her face. "Well, he shouldn''t have. It''s not really anyone''s business."

    "I''m not prying, I just¡ª" Gwen hesitates. "I guess I can''t help but think about how worried you must be. About your dad, I mean."

    Felicia exhales. "Worried? Yeah, I guess. Who knows what happened to him after Norman infected the city? He could be dead, or one of those things. I don''t know what''s worse. He''s an asshole. Irresponsible. Just an all-around piece of shit. But still, I wouldn''t want him to be dea¡ª" She stops, suddenly aware of who she''s talking to. "Oh, man. I''m sorry. I sound like a total brat. Here I am complaining about my dad when..."

    Gwen offers a small smile. "Just because my dad''s gone doesn''t mean no one''s allowed to talk about theirs."

    Felicia chuckles. "I guess not. But still."

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    "It''s fine." Gwen gives her a thumbs-up. "Besides, this is probably the most real conversation we''ve had that isn''t about Peter."

    "True."

    Gwen shifts, sitting up a little straighter. "So, be honest¡ªdid you ever have a crush on¡ª"

    A sharp screech cuts through the trees, followed by another. Then another.

    Felicia and Gwen turn toward the sound. The shadows between the trees shift, growing wilder, faster. Then, dozens¡ªno, hundreds¡ªof Goblins burst through the darkness, rushing straight toward the prison. But leading them riding atop of a Goblin, is a man they''ve come to know all too well.

    Kraven the hunter.

    "Oh, shit." Felicia jumps to her feet. "He must be here for, Peter. Did he track us? Shit, that little scumbag just doesn''t know when to quit."

    Gwen yanks her behind a tree, both of them watching as the swarm barrels past. Her grip tightens around Peter''s bag. The bag that holds the device Virgil gave him.

    Peter had failed to bring the device with him. Or inform the girls of the only thing that might''ve stopped what comes next.

    "We have to warn Peter," Gwen whispers.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Whoa... this is..."

    I trail off, words failing me as I''m led deeper into the compound. The deeper we go, the worse it gets¡ªwalls covered in deep scratches, smashed panels, dried blood. No doubt the work of my favorite reptilian friend.

    "How long has he been down here?"

    Gargan scoffs. "Ever since that freak ate a few of the other inmates. Thought it was best to lock him up."

    Octavius clears his throat. "Yes, well... it proved to be quite a challenge."

    Rhino cackles. "Speak for yourself! No man, no creature, can overpower Aleksei!"

    I did.

    The cell isn''t far now. When we reach it, I see him¡ªhuddled in the corner of a reinforced glass cube, nothing but a thin slit in the middle. Probably for feeding him. I can only hope it''s not people.

    But he''s not in his Lizard form.

    He''s just... a man. Naked, shivering. Small.

    Nothing like the scientist I once worked with.

    Guilt washes over me. I never found a cure for him. Never saved him. Just kicked him back into a prison that saw him as nothing more than a monster. They didn''t care who he used to be. A man. A husband. A father.

    I step forward, pressing a hand to the glass. "D-Doctor Connors? It''s me... it''s Pe¡ªSpider-Man."

    He doesn''t move.

    He''s one of the few people who knows my identity¡ªbesides Felicia, Gwen, and Norman. He''s never spoken a word of it. At least... I hope not.

    "Spider-Man?" His voice is hoarse. "You''re... so you didn''t die." He still doesn''t look at me. "That''s good."

    I glance back at the group of superpowered idiots behind me. "Hey, you think we could get some privacy?"

    Octavius sighs, as if I''m wasting his time, but he leaves. The others follow, though not before Gargan flips me off on the way out, cackling as he slams the door shut.

    Would it be wrong to punch him now that he''s out of the suit?

    I pull off my mask. "Doc... it''s me. It''s Peter."

    Connors finally moves, just enough to let me see his bloodshot eyes. He looks exhausted. Broken.

    "It feels like ages since we last spoke, Peter."

    I chuckle weakly, rubbing the back of my head. "Yeah... last time, you were trying to bite my head off in Times Square."

    His face falls.

    I wave my hands quickly. "N-No! I mean¡ªit''s fine! Well, not fine, but... I know it wasn''t you."

    He turns a little more toward me. "I don''t even know if I believe that anymore, Peter. The things I''ve done..." His voice wavers. "Oh god... I''ll never atone for what I''ve done."

    He looks like he did the day he lost Vanessa. That grief, that void in his eyes... that''s what led him here. To Norman. To the serum. To this.

    "Doctor Connors... it was wrong of me to let them keep you locked up like this," I admit. "I should''ve tried harder. I should''ve¡ª"

    "It''s okay, Peter." His voice is sincere. "You''re a kid. A kid who''s taken on more responsibility than you ever should have. I should be the one apologizing. After Vanessa died, after Margret left... I fell apart. And it led me to a place I can only blame myself for." He lifts his gaze to me. "But look at you. Spider-Man. A hero, risking his life every day for people he doesn''t even know. It''s marvelous."

    I look down. I don''t feel like a hero. Not after what I let happen to this city.

    "Doctor Connors, you might think redemption is hopeless." I meet his eyes again. "But I think there''s still a way."

    He looks at me, lost for a moment. Then, without hesitation, he struggles to his feet. "Peter, if there''s anything I can do, I will. I owe you¡ªand everyone I''ve hurt¡ªat least that much."

    I grip my mask, slipping it back on. "Glad to hear it. But... are we gonna have to worry about your other friend showing up?"

    Connors exhales. "Not unless it feels threatened. It''s a living thing. We share a mind, but when I''m in control, I''m in control. When it''s in control... well you know how that is. But even when I''m me, I never stop hearing it. Never."

    That''s not horrifying at all.

    "That''ll have to¡ª"

    The doors slam open. Octavius strides in on his mechanical arms. "It would appear you''ve attracted some unwelcome guests, Spider-Man."

    I blink.

    Gwen? Felicia? No. I told them to wait outside. Even if Gwen wanted to charge in, Felicia would never let her.

    "Who''s¡ª"

    Then I hear it.

    Gunfire. Screams.

    A fight has broken out in the prison.

    And I have a very bad feeling I know exactly what.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    After finding Connors an orange jumpsuit¡ªbecause no way am I letting him run around in his birthday suit¡ªthe three of us start moving.

    We don''t make it far before I see them.

    The halls are crawling with Goblins.

    They flood in like a wave, tearing through inmates like wild animals. Screams echo through the prison, the sound of flesh being ripped apart making my stomach churn. A severed arm flies past me, splattering blood against the wall. The stench of iron and burning flesh clings to the air.

    This is a slaughter.

    "Octavius," I say, glancing at him, heart hammering. "Tell me you have another way out."

    He scoffs, like the question offends him. "What kind of fool do you take me for? There''s a side exit. We leave through there."

    I turn back to the fight.

    Rhino is laughing, tearing through Goblins like a wrecking ball. Every punch sends a creature flying, their bones crunching under his brute strength.

    Electro isn''t having as much fun. His body flickers, sparks barely crackling at his fingertips. He tries to fry them¡ªhis lightning crackling through the swarm¡ªbut it isn''t enough. He''s drained. I can see it in the way he staggers, in the way his blasts lack their usual power.

    Then there''s Toomes and Gargan.

    Neither has their suits.

    Toomes fights like a desperate old soldier, jabbing a shiv into any Goblin that gets too close. His breath is ragged, sweat dripping down his face, but he refuses to go down.

    Gargan, on the other hand, is barely holding on. His knuckles are bloodied, his arms torn open from deep gashes. He backs against the wall, eyes darting, surrounded by Goblins closing in.

    I clench my fists.

    I can''t just leave them.

    "There''s a forest left of the prison," I say quickly, turning to Octavius. "Take Connors and get out of here. I''ll meet you there."

    Connors grabs my shoulders. "Pe¡ªSpider-Man, what are you doing? Come with us!"

    I shake my head. "I will. But not until I make sure everyone else is okay."

    Octavius chuckles, already turning away. "Ever the hero." One of his mechanical arms wraps around Connors, dragging him toward the exit.

    That''s one problem handled.

    Now¡ª

    LOOK OUT!

    My Spider-Sense screams. I twist just in time to avoid a spear that whistles past my head, slamming into the wall behind me.

    I flip backward, landing in a crouch. My eyes lock onto the figure standing a few yards away.

    Kraven.

    My jaw clenches. "You. How are you here?!"

    He cracks his knuckles. Then his neck. "I believe my title speaks for itself, no?"

    I scoff. "In case you haven''t noticed, this isn''t exactly the best time for a grudge match. Those things are going to tear everyone apart¡ªincluding you."

    He doesn''t even flinch. Doesn''t acknowledge the chaos around us.

    "Well, that is why I let them chase them here." His smirk is razor-sharp. "I had thought I''d never get the chance to repay you for how you humiliated me in the battle at that school, never reclaim the honor you''d taken from me. But imagine my surprise when I found out you were alive. Not only that..." His grin widens. "I was in your home and didn''t even realize it. I met your family."

    My blood runs cold.

    My hands curl into fists. Anger bubbles in my chest. "If you think I''ll let you¡ª"

    He lunges.

    I move to meet him, throwing a punch straight for his ribs, but he redirects it¡ªguiding my momentum past him before jabbing me hard in the throat.

    I stumble back, gasping for air¡ªjust as he unsheathes a knife and swipes.

    I flip away, just barely avoiding the blade as it whistles past me.

    "I''m trying to fix this city!" I shout, my voice raw with frustration. "Why are you getting in my way?! Is revenge really that important to you?! Are you this stupid?!"

    Kraven doesn''t even blink. He runs a finger over the tip of his blade, testing its sharpness. "All of that is meaningless. Oh, how I wanted to kill you that day. The moment you sent me flying through that wall, I was ready to rip you apart. And your little friends, too."

    My stomach twists.

    "But," he continues, voice casual, "the fall broke a few of my ribs. And fighting you in anger would have most likely resulted in my defeat. So, I waited. I watched."

    He watched us?

    He knows. He knows. He knows.

    "I don''t care who you are, Peter," he says, stepping forward. "Or who''s close to you. Or what you do when you''re not wearing that mask."

    He lifts his blade.

    "All I want is to claim your life. To add your head to my wall." His grin turns feral.

    "Only then... will I truly become the greatest hunter."

    A fresh wave of Goblins floods the hall, shrieking, eyes glowing with madness.

    And Kraven charges.

    I duck under his swing, but a Goblin crashes into me from the side, sending me stumbling. I barely catch myself before another leaps, claws swiping at my face. I flip backward, webbing it mid-air and slamming it into the ground.

    Kraven doesn''t stop. He moves through the chaos like a predator, dodging flailing limbs, using the Goblins as cover. A knife whistles past my head. I snatch it out of the air and fling it back without hesitation.

    He twists, barely dodging, but that''s the thing¡ªhe had to dodge.

    I''m in control now.

    He''s fast, strong, a trained hunter. But I''ve fought him before. I know his movements, his rhythm, the way he shifts his weight before a strike.

    He leaps¡ªright hand cocked for a punch. I step inside his swing, hook his leg with mine, and throw him into a Goblin mid-air.

    Kraven snarls, shoving the creature off him, just in time for another Goblin to grab his shoulder and bite down.

    He roars in pain, grabbing the creature''s head and twisting. A sickening snap echoes.

    I don''t give him time to recover.

    I slam my fist into his gut, then web his arm before he can stumble back.

    "Here," I grunt, yanking him forward. "Lemme help you out."

    I launch him straight through the nearest wall.

    The bricks explode, dust filling the air as Kraven crashes through into the next block, slamming into the empty cell bars.

    I step through the hole, rolling my shoulders. "You don''t get it, Kraven," I say, voice cold. "You can''t win."

    He groans, pushing himself up, one hand clutching his ribs.

    I crack my knuckles. "Because I don''t have time to hold back."

    Before he can move, I punch him square in the chest. The impact sends him flying into an empty cell, crashing hard against the back wall.

    I web the door shut.

    He coughs, glaring up at me. "Locking me away like an animal, Spider-Man?"

    "No." I stare down at him, jaw tight. "Keeping you safe."

    Kraven chuckles darkly, wiping blood from his lip. "You can''t run from me forever. And when I get out? I know who you are. I know who you love."

    My body freezes.

    The words burn through me.

    Something inside me snaps.

    I step forward, fists clenched so tight they shake. "If you ever try to hurt them..." My voice is low, steady, dangerous. "Any...of them."

    I meet his gaze.

    "I will kill you."

    His smirk fades.

    "That''s a promise."

    I don''t wait for a response.

    I turn, stepping back through the hole I made¡ª

    And stop.

    The prison is drenched in chaos.

    The Goblins are everywhere, flooding the halls, tearing into the Sinister Six.

    Toomes and Gargan are struggling, both battered, their clothes ripped, their bodies bruised. Toomes wields a broken pipe like a desperate soldier, fending off anything that gets too close. Gargan is already on the ground, Goblins tearing at him, his screams lost in the madness.

    Then there''s Electro.

    His body convulses, sparks flickering around him as the Goblins rip into him. His electricity sputters, weak, fading. He lets out a choked scream before disappearing under a swarm of bodies.

    I move, webbing one Goblin off Gargan, kicking another in the face¡ª

    But there''s too many.

    They overwhelm me. Claws slash through my suit, dragging me down. I fight¡ªpunch, kick, web, dodge¡ªbut for every one I take down, three more take its place.

    I can''t do this.

    I can''t¡ª

    Outside the Prison~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Felicia watches, arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently.

    Gwen rummages through Peter''s bag. "There has to be something in here I can use," she mutters.

    Felicia sighs. "This is stupid."

    Gwen doesn''t listen.

    She digs through web cartridges, some random tools, a half-eaten protein bar¡ª

    Then her fingers brush against something strange.

    A small, unfamiliar device.

    She lifts it. "What''s this?"

    Felicia glances over, frowning. "No clue."

    Gwen inspects it, running her thumb over the smooth surface. "It''s gotta be something useful. Maybe like a pipe bomb or something. Maybe if I blow that entrance it''ll stop the Goblins from getting in."

    Felicia leans against the wall. "A pipe bomb? Why in the world would Peter have that? And If you''re thinking of pressing it, don''t. That''s the kind of dumb decision that gets people killed."

    Gwen narrows her eyes at the device.

    She presses it.

    "Oh my god!" Felicia shouts.

    Gwen hurls it toward the entrance of the prison and dives behind cover.

    Felicia braces herself.

    Nothing happens.

    Then¡ª

    A piercing noise rips through the air.

    A frequency so loud, so inhumanly sharp, it makes the ground quake.

    From inside the prison, an earsplitting howl erupts.

    Back Inside~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I clench my head, the sound rattling through my skull. The Goblins?

    They screech in agony.

    One by one, they flee.

    They scramble over each other, pushing, running, clawing at the walls just to escape.

    I pant, chest heaving, watching as the wave disperses, as the hall goes silent.

    Gargan groans. Toomes collapses.

    While Rhino laughs proudly proclaiming his victory against the Goblins, as if he isn''t covered with scratches and blood.

    The only thing left is the stench of blood and the bodies they left behind.

    I exhale sharply.

    Felicia. Gwen.

    I don''t know how they knew what that thing did...

    But they just saved everyone.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I grunt, dragging Electro''s barely-conscious body out of the wrecked prison. His suit is torn, the occasional spark flickering weakly across his skin, but at least he''s breathing.

    Beside me, Rhino stomps forward, carrying both Gargan and Toomes like a couple of oversized duffel bags. Gargan groans, clearly out of it, while Toomes mutters something under his breath, too exhausted to even sound bitter.

    The few prisoners still standing scatter into the night, their freedom taking priority over whatever just happened in there. I don''t blame them.

    I just hope they run far from here.

    The moment we reach the treeline, I see them.

    Felicia and Gwen.

    They''re both wearing the extra masks I gave them, simple cloth covers that hide their faces just enough. Thank god they remembered.

    Before I can say anything, Gwen spots me and runs.

    She practically slams into me, arms wrapping tight around my neck.

    "Woah," Rhino grunts. "Didn''t know Spider-Man had a fan club."

    Gargan chuckles weakly from where he''s slung over Rhino''s shoulder. "Yeah, think they might be here for an autograph, bug?"

    I try my best to ignore them.

    Felicia smirks, folding her arms. "I''m sorry, but exactly what use is regular man without his suit?"

    Felicia smirks at Gargan, who groans in response. "Shut yer'' mouth you litt¡ª"

    I ignore them, holding Gwen for just a moment longer before pulling back. "How did you guys even find us?"

    Felicia jerks a thumb toward Rhino. "Kinda hard not to spot the giant gray...dude? Animal?"

    Fair enough.

    I glance at Gwen. "How did you know to use that device?"

    She chuckles, rubbing the back of her neck. "I, uh... thought it was a bomb."

    I blink.

    She shrugs. "Turns out it was some deus-ex-machina noise machine instead, so, y''know... even better."

    Electro groans, shifting against my side. "Are we just gonna sit here making jokes, or are we actually going somewhere?"

    Gwen, however, isn''t listening.

    She''s staring at the men around us.

    At Toomes.

    I follow her gaze and realize exactly why she looks like she wants to take a step back.

    The last time she saw Adrian Toomes, he had her and so many others trapped in Oscorp. He killed so many people.

    Her voice is quiet. "They''re... on our side now?"

    I exhale. "For now."

    She stares at them a second longer before nodding. "I''ll trust you, Pete."

    I turn to the rest of them. "We need to find Octavius."

    ¡ª

    It takes a bit of searching, but we eventually find him and Connors in the woods not too far from the prison.

    Connors spots me first. "Thank god," he breathes, rushing over, his eyes scanning me for injuries. "I thought¡ª" He catches himself, glancing at the others, and quickly corrects, "I thought you might not have made it."

    I give him a small nod. "Ran into an old friend, but I''m here."

    Gwen, however, doesn''t say anything.

    Again I can see that she''s looking warily at Octavius.

    I can see the hesitation in her stance, the way she subtly leans back instead of forward. The last time she saw our old biology teacher, he was tearing through an auditorium, trying to kill Norman Osborn.

    She doesn''t trust him.

    I step beside her, quietly reaching for her hand.

    She hesitates¡ªthen takes it.

    I squeeze gently before turning back to the group.

    "Listen up," I say, my voice firm, cutting through whatever side conversations were starting.

    Everyone quiets.

    "We''re going to see Virgil. We''re going to find a cure." I look over the strange group standing before me. "And we''re taking back the city."