[A/N]: The First GOAL of the week is to achieve 300 Power Stones and unlock TWO bonus chapters. Comment, share, and you know the drill 😎✨
We got to work.
Getting the materials was harder than Harry made it sound. We couldn't just walk into Oscorp and request military-grade fabric. Harry had to be subtle, requisitioning things through his intern access, claiming they were for "school projects" and "personal experiments." It took three days just to gather everything without raising suspicion.
The web formula was even worse. I remembered the general idea. The AI suit had shown me the composition during the battle. But translating memory into actual chemistry was brutal. Gwen and I spent hours in her makeshift lab, really just her bedroom with borrowed equipment, trying different combinations.
"This batch is too sticky," Gwen announced on day two, holding up a beaker of white goo that refused to let go of the stirring rod. "It'll work for swinging, but you'd never get it off your hands."
"What about adding a dissolution agent?" I suggested, flipping through my notes. "Something that breaks down after a set time?"
We tried that. The webbing dissolved too fast, falling apart mid-air.
"Great," Harry said, watching a test strand disintegrate. "So you'll swing halfway across the street and then fall. Perfect."
"Shut up and help," Gwen snapped, but there was no real heat in it. We were all exhausted, running on pizza and stubbornness.
By day four, we'd finally created something that worked. The web shooters were bare-bones. Basically repurposed spray mechanisms Harry had "borrowed" from Oscorp's prototyping lab. But they functioned. The suit was simple too: cut-resistant fabric in red and blue, Gwen's insistence citing the new suit's colors, basic padding in vital areas, and a mask that actually fit properly instead of my torn beanie.
"It's not perfect," Harry said, examining our work spread out on Gwen's bed. "But it's better than what you had."
I ran my fingers over the fabric. It felt real. Official. Like something an actual superhero would wear, not a kid playing dress-up.
Later that day, Uncle Ben and Aunt May were released from the hospital. I went home with them, though I found myself texting Gwen constantly throughout the day. Something had shifted between us during that night on the couch. Neither of us had addressed it directly, but it was there. Unspoken but undeniable.
The house felt different when we got back. Quieter. More fragile.
I helped Uncle Ben into his chair, careful of the neck brace, and made tea for Aunt May. Pretended everything was normal even though nothing felt normal anymore.
"Peter?" May called from the living room later that evening. "Can you come here for a minute?"
I found her sitting on the couch, her hands twisting a dish towel in her lap. The scars still marked her hands and face. Thin lines that would fade but never completely disappear. But she was smiling, the first real smile I'd seen since the invasion.
"I know things have been hard," she said. "For all of us. But we need something good to focus on. And I realized today is Ben's birthday."
My stomach dropped. I'd completely forgotten. Between the hospital and the suit and the guilt, my uncle's birthday had just... vanished from my mind.
"Oh no, Aunt May, I..." Shame burned through me.
"It's okay." She patted my arm. "None of us have been thinking straight. But I thought... maybe you could get a cake? When you go out this evening? Something to celebrate. We need reasons to celebrate, especially now."
I hugged her, probably too tight, but she didn't complain. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. I'll get the best cake I can find."
I meant it. I'd get the cake and come straight home and we'd celebrate and I wouldn't think about the suit or powers or responsibility. Just cake and family and normal fifteen-year-old things.
That was the plan.
That evening, I suited up. Just to test the web shooters properly, I told myself. Just to make sure everything worked before I put the suit away forever. Just to swing a few blocks to the bakery and back.
I kept telling myself that as I pulled on the suit. As I attached the web shooters. As I climbed out of my bedroom window onto the fire escape.
My phone buzzed.
Gwen: "How's the suit feel?"
Harry: "Any issues with the web shooters?"
Me: "Feels good. Testing them now."
I swung between buildings, testing the web shooters. The formula held. The adhesive strength was perfect. Gwen and Harry's design worked flawlessly.
"Okay, Parker," I muttered into my makeshift mask. "You've got functional web shooters, a suit that doesn't fall apart, and absolutely no idea what you're doing."
My phone buzzed. The conference call was still active.
"Peter, the trajectory on that last swing was terrible," Gwen said. Her voice carried a mix of concern and scientific analysis. "You need to account for wind resistance at higher speeds."
"I'm working on it!"
"Just don't die," Harry added helpfully. "Your aunt will kill me if you die testing my suit design."
I was bantering about the design when my spider-sense pinged.
Not the gentle warning I'd gotten used to. This was sharper. More urgent. Danger, but not to me.
Below me, about three blocks away, a man with mechanical wings was stealing cargo from a Damage Control truck. Chitauri tech, from the looks of it.
"Guys, I gotta go," I said.
"Wait, what's..." Gwen started.
But I'd already dropped from the rooftop, muscle memory and instinct taking over. Web-line, swing, release. The formula held. The shooters worked. I was flying through the air. I felt alive.
The winged man saw me coming. Saw a kid in a homemade suit swinging through the air. The mechanical wings, clearly cobbled together from salvaged Chitauri tech, sparking and stuttering, powered up with a high-pitched whine.
"Stay out of this, kid!" the man shouted. His voice was rough, desperate.
My spider-sense screamed. But not at the winged man.
At something else.
Something above me. Something powerful enough to make my entire nervous system light up in warning.
Before I could turn, before I could react, the winged man's entire rig went dark. The Chitauri tech sputtered, died, fell silent. Blue circuit patterns flickered across the mechanical wings for a split second before everything powered down.
The man started falling.
I reacted on instinct, firing webs to catch the thief before he crashed. The webbing stuck to the man's jacket and pants, creating a makeshift net that jerked him to a stop ten feet above the pavement. The man dangled there, secured but unharmed.
I landed on the top of a building, sticking there, my heart hammering. My spider-sense was still screaming. Still warning me of...
"Yo, Peter." The voice carried that familiar teasing note. "Dig the new suit. But it could be better, don't you think?"
My mind went blank. Panic flooded through me.
"How do you... who..." I couldn't get the words out.
The figure smiled, pulling down the collar of his shirt slightly to reveal his face completely.
And I realized why the voice was familiar.
That was the same guy who'd boldly declared Earth protected. Who'd used godlike powers to bring people back from the dead. Who'd stared down a literal god on live television.
That was the Light Bringer. The Power Broker.
That was Jay.
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