That night, the sky was pitch black, with only the cold, eerie green glow of the full moon shining down on the city.
That moon… it was as if a pair of eyes were silently watching everything.
"Huff… huff…"
A woman, drenched in sweat, her face pale as if she could collapse at any moment,
was clutching a baby not even three months old in her arms, running for her life without knowing where she was going.
"Uehehe~"
The baby reached out its tiny hand, trying to touch its mother's cheek.
"…Mommy's fine, my love," the mother said in a hoarse voice, grasping the baby's hand with her rough, trembling one, forcing a pitiful smile.
After running for what felt like forever, she finally stopped in front of a small, rather isolated wooden house.
She looked at the house, then down at the child in her arms.
"…"
Gritting her teeth, she stepped forward and gently placed the baby on the doorstep.
"Ue? Uehehe!" The baby still smiled brightly, waving its little arms toward her.
"I'm sorry, son… I'm so sorry… This is the end of the road for me. I have no other choice… I can't…"
But the baby's tiny hand touched her cheek, making her eyes widen.
The child kept smiling—a pure, happy smile that stood in complete contrast to her despair.
"…I'm sorry. I'm not worthy of being your mother. If your father and I hadn't been so stubborn, insisting on doing what we believed was right… you wouldn't have to go through this… It's all my fault…"
Tears streamed down her face as she hugged the baby tightly in agony.
"It's too late now. Nothing can be stopped, and there's no turning back time. Hope was already gone from the very beginning… So my son, please live a happy life. Don't chase after things that are too big, too grand. Otherwise… that thing…"
Suddenly, the nearby streetlamp exploded with a loud pop. She jolted upright, looked around frantically, then clenched her teeth again.
Ding dong!
She rang the doorbell, kissed the baby's cheek one last time, and ran away.
She kept walking, walking, until she disappeared into the darkness.
…
Splat!
Blood gushed out from a dark alley. The woman's hand lay there for a moment… then was slowly dragged deeper into the shadows by something.
…
Creak…
"Who the hell rings the doorbell at this hour?"
A sleepy man scratched his head, looked down, and saw a baby.
"…Oh my God, don't tell me…"
He picked the baby up. The infant stared curiously back at him.
"…Fantastic. Which heartless jerk saw how dirt-poor we are and still dumped their kid on us?"
"What's going on, honey?"
A woman came out. When she saw her husband holding a baby, her eyes nearly popped out.
"What?! You cheated on me and this is your kid?! I knew it! There's no way you actually loved me! I'm just an ugly, filthy woman to you—"
"What nonsense are you spouting?? Does it even look like me at all??"
She came closer, looked at the baby, then at her husband.
"…How should I put it… It doesn't really look like you… but it has your exact vibe of weird ideals."
"What the hell are you talking about???"
"Whatever, let me hold him."
She took the baby. It looked at her and grinned widely.
"Oh my gosh, so cute! I hope when you grow up you don't inherit your dad's bizarre sense of justice!"
"Are we really adopting him?"
"What? You don't want to? I can't have kids, and I've always wanted one so badly!"
"Well…"
The husband stepped closer and looked at the baby. The moment it smiled at him, his heart melted.
"…Hehe, does he have a name yet?"
"Let me check… Oh! There is one!"
On the cloth wrapped around the baby, a very small name was written—you had to look closely to see it.
"R. Carter? What a weird name."
"Sounds kinda familiar…"
"Then let's just change it! We're adopting him anyway!"
"Fine by me. From now on, you'll be… Peter! Peter Parker!"
The elderly couple looked at the baby with eyes full of love. The baby, sensing it, grinned from ear to ear.
That was a memory long forgotten… but for some reason, it had now been restored.
How strange.
***
Beep beep beep
"…"
My finger twitched slightly. It was hard, but I finally managed to move it.
My entire body had returned to normal—in fact, it felt stronger than before.
The problem was… the mental pain from that day still remained vivid.
"…wake up… come oooon, wake uuuup~"
…Why does this voice sound so familiar?
"…GET THE HELL UP ALREADY! I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE, OPEN YOUR EYES AND TALK TO ME SO I CAN CHECK IF THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH YOU!!!"
I immediately snapped my eyes open, sweating bullets.
"Yo, long time no see! How you holding up?"
"It's you… uh… Dr. Doctor."
"Spot on! You've grown since last time!"
I looked around the hospital room.
Next to me were Harry reading comics and Eddie Brock.
Eddie had a black eye, swollen lips, and was covered in bruises—looked absolutely miserable.
"This guy got jumped by some thugs. Surprisingly still alive. Oh, and he's completely broke—no money for the hospital bill either."
"…What about Harry?"
"Harry? Your friend? He's fine. Gotta admit, out of everyone who survived that school shooting, this kid recovered the fastest."
"…"
I sighed and looked at the doctor.
"…How many people died, doc?"
"Why do you ask?"
"No particular reason."
"…Fine. Almost half of the kids who participated in the Sports Festival are dead. Only 2 survivors from Teto High, 1 from Weebs High who's still critical, and Xavier's was the luckiest—most of them made it. Well, most."
"Almost half?! That's practically everyone!"
"As for the ones who weren't competing and just went to the cafeteria… let's not even go there. A lot died."
"…That's horrifying."
"Anyway, I'm busy. I'll come back later to check on you. Bye."
The doctor left. I watched him go, then turned to Harry.
"Harry."
"…"
"I know you can hear me."
Harry slowly turned his head toward me.
"Peter… almost everyone I knew is among the dead. And worse—the shooter… I already heard from others."
"…There has to be a reason."
"Peter."
Harry looked straight into my eyes. His gaze was empty, sad, and full of self-blame.
"You can't justify something that horrific with 'a reason.' Doing that would only make her look even worse in my eyes."
"…"
Harry was right. No matter what happened to Emma… what she did was unforgivable.
She had become a cold-blooded killer, which meant even more innocent people would die.
"Why did everything turn out like this?"
Exhausted, I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.
The first thing that appeared was news about the school shooting and interviews with Professor X and Tony Stark.
"Sir, if your school is full of mutants with superpowers, why couldn't you protect those young people?"
"Are you taking responsibility for failing to protect the citizens of New York?"
Blah blah blah.
Most of the questions were incredibly insensitive, basically dumping all the blame on the interviewees.
Unfortunately for the reporters, both Professor X and Tony answered in ways that shut them up completely.
"We are still human, with emotions. We are not unpaid heroes. Calling us 'mutants' is just a label, no different from racial discrimination. You cannot force that responsibility on us or on the children. Whether they choose to save people is their right—we don't forbid it. Also, you only talk about the lives of ordinary humans, but never mention the young mutants who died too. How is that not discrimination?" Professor X said.
And Tony…
"Yeah, I was kinda lazy that day. Plus it was my day off. Tough luck for them, I guess."
Of course, after that, social media tore him apart, but he didn't care—he just kept sipping whiskey live on air.
"Sigh… everything's a total mess."
Knock knock knock
Harry and I both looked toward the door.
Surprisingly, it was the mutant gang, Gwen, Uncle Ben, Aunt May, and Bruce coming to visit.
Marc, Lila, and Tony were probably busy and couldn't make it.
"Peter!"
Well… at least family and friends still came to see me.
That was enough.
"…"
Harry, lying in the bed next to mine, quietly watched everyone crowd around Peter, laughing and chatting happily.
He just watched, thought for a moment, then glanced down at his phone.
3 missed calls to Dad
No answer…
Harry was about to turn it off when a message suddenly came in.
"…Lee"
Lee: a bit busy right now but I'll come over soon. Still in pain? I made some super-strong painkillers—when I get there I'm making you drink every last drop, okay?
"…"
"Harry," Peter's voice rang out.
"Huh? What?" Harry jolted and turned.
"What else—come talk with everyone!"
And just like that, the whole group moved over and surrounded both of them, laughing and chatting noisily.
"…Heh."
Harry gave a small smile.