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Out over the endless ocean, the waves raged like wild beasts—roaring and thrashing.
Suddenly, a figure shot across the sky at high speed.
As he flew, thick white mist started pouring out of his mouth.
Creeeaaaak...
As that frosty breath hit the surface of the sea, it instantly froze everything in its path.
The raging waves that had just looked like feral monsters were suddenly turned to ice—frozen in place mid-motion, along with the sea beneath them. The whole scene looked like a massive ice sculpture.
"The old me... I was just a fake Superman."
"But now? Now I'm the real deal."
After casually testing out his newly awakened Freeze Breath, Peter finally felt like he could truly call himself Superman.
The next moment, he sped up and flew straight toward his house in New York.
Without anyone noticing, he slipped in through his second-floor window and returned to his bedroom.
He tossed the clothes he'd borrowed from some random empty room—and the red curtain he'd used as a makeshift cape—into the trash like they were no big deal.
Then, pretending he'd just gotten out of bed, Peter slowly walked downstairs.
"Morning, Uncle Ben. Morning, Aunt May."
As he greeted them, he sat down at the table and picked up his breakfast.
"Morning, Peter..." they both responded, not even turning away from the TV as they sat on the couch.
That's when Peter noticed a very familiar figure on the screen.
"Huh, they're covering last night's... incident?"
"Heh. Not like it has anything to do with me. Let's eat first."
Peter didn't care one bit what the TV was saying. He just started eating his breakfast like nothing ever happened last night.
But while Peter was chillin' and enjoying his food…
Elsewhere in the city, Police Chief George Stacy was already suited up after barely six hours of sleep.
Standing tall behind a podium, dressed in his crisp, authoritative uniform, his expression was solemn and full of weight.
"I want to offer my deepest apologies on behalf of the entire NYPD for the terrible incident that occurred last night."
With no hesitation, Chief Stacy bowed deeply toward the cameras, showing genuine remorse.
"As for what actually happened last night..."
He straightened up slowly and began explaining the events of the night to a crowd of reporters—most of whom had already caught wind of what went down.
"I also want to acknowledge that the way we've handled things in the past deserves serious reflection. From this moment on, the NYPD is officially dropping the warrant for Spider-Woman."
"Furthermore, I'm calling on Spider-Woman to work with us—to join forces in protecting the city, fighting crime, and catching the true culprit behind last night's chaos."
"To help create a city that's safe, free, and full of hope."
Daily Bugle Building – Luxurious Executive Office
"F**k! Are these people outta their minds? Working with a criminal who doesn't even dare show their real face? They're making a total joke outta the NYPD!"
A middle-aged man in a sharp suit, sporting a small mustache and puffing on a premium Montecristo cigar from Cuba, suddenly shot up from his comfy executive chair the moment he heard Police Chief George on the TV.
He was so furious, he chucked his expensive cigar straight onto the floor.
Knock knock knock…
Just as he was fuming, a knock came at the door.
"Come in," he said after taking a moment to calm down and settling back into his chair.
"Mr. Jameson, here's the latest layout of tomorrow's paper. Would you like to look it over and suggest any edits?"
A slim woman in a professional outfit walked in and handed over a freshly printed newspaper to J. Jonah Jameson.
"Change it. Rewrite everything about Spider-Woman," Jameson said without even a second glance.
"But if we change it all, we might miss today's publishing deadline…" Betty Brant, the secretary, didn't dare challenge her boss's decision—she was just doing her job to suggest alternatives.
"Do it anyway. Tell the whole editorial team to move fast. Focus everything on the shady deal between the police and Spider-Woman. We've gotta make it crystal clear to the public—Spider-Woman's not some hero, she's a damn criminal!"
"The NYPD partnering with her? That's just a bunch of crooks working together!"
"Oh, and have the team come up with a killer headline. Something that grabs attention. I want people to feel like they have to buy the paper just by looking at the title."
Jameson thought for a second, already forming a general idea in his head.
As far as he was concerned, the only right move was to keep dragging Spider-Woman through the mud.
"Got it, boss. I'm on it," Betty said and turned to leave.
"Wait—don't go yet!"
Just then, Jameson's eyes flicked back to the TV. His expression suddenly changed, and he quickly stopped his secretary.
NYPD Press Conference
The moment Chief George officially announced that the manhunt for Spider-Woman was canceled, every reporter in the room knew—this was huge news.
But then, a journalist raised his hand and got permission to ask a question, and suddenly the whole place went dead silent.
"Chief George, regarding last night's incident, I've heard a version of events that doesn't quite match what you've told us. In fact, it seems like you're hiding something from the people of this city!"
George's calm, composed face instantly tensed up.
"I'm sorry, I won't be answering that—"
But before he could finish, the reporter pressed on quickly: "There are claims that there weren't just two enhanced individuals at the scene last night. Apparently, a third one showed up—someone who could fly and had insane strength."
"And the police suspect that this new individual…"
"…might be the real-life version of a certain famous comic book hero—Superman."
Before the reporter could finish that bombshell, Chief George's face turned stormy as he cut in at the mic: "This press conference is over. Please leave in an orderly fashion."
"Dammit, who the hell leaked that?!"
George knew this secret wouldn't last long, but he hadn't expected the media to get wind of it this fast—by the very next day—and to ask about it at the actual press conference no less.
"Superman? No way. That's impossible. That kind of person can't exist in the real world!"
Some reporters were already doubting the story.
"Superman? Isn't he that Hollywood actor or something?"
Clearly, this guy didn't read many comics as a kid.
The room erupted in noise—confused shouts, whispers, speculation. Even the on-duty cops, who hadn't been in the loop, started murmuring among themselves.
"Oh my God, everyone look up! What the hell is that?!"
One reporter pointed toward the sky with a gasp, and everyone instinctively followed his gaze.
"Is it a bird? Or a plane?"
People started throwing out guesses.
"Damn it, not now!" George muttered, his face going pale as he stared at the familiar figure flying through the sky.
WHOOSH!
The next second, a powerful figure shot through the sky from the horizon, blazing toward them at high speed.
Just as he reached the crowd, he stopped dead mid-air—hovering effortlessly like gravity didn't even exist.
He was floating high above everyone, totally still.
"Oh my God… that's Superman!"
"....."