The smell of melted cheese and oregano lingered in the air between them, but the second slice of pizza sat untouched for the moment. Ethan leaned back in the booth, eyes half-lidded in a relaxed pose that contrasted the sharp glint in his gaze. Peter could feel it—the subtle shift. Whatever light-hearted rhythm they'd built earlier was gone. The kid was about to flip the board.
Ethan set his half-eaten slice down with careful precision, wiped his fingers with a napkin, and folded his hands in front of him like he was giving a presentation.
"My name is Ethan Kane," he began calmly. "I'm sixteen years old. Born in Jersey City to Linda and Marcus Kane. Nothing extraordinary about either of them—Mom's a nurse, and Dad's an accountant. Middle-class upbringing, average house, average childhood. Although our house was recently destroyed, so we're currently residing in a hotel. Got decent grades. Preferred computers and books to sports or socializing. Most of my teachers said I was a quiet student with good potential. Maybe too quiet in my opinion."
He smiled slightly, like he was telling a joke that Peter wasn't in on.
"I guess I still am. Quiet, I mean."
Peter raised an eyebrow, arms folded, not yet speaking.
Ethan tilted his head. "So… does that answer your question? Or do I need to tell you my blood type?"
Peter opened his mouth—but didn't even get a syllable out.
"It's a joke to relax the tense atmosphere. Although I'm a little surprised," Ethan said, cutting him off smoothly, "that you didn't already know all this. I figured that Ms. Felicia Hardy—Black Cat—would've filled you in on my history."
Peter blinked. The boy had just casually name-dropped one of his oldest allies. Not her alias. Her name.
Ethan watched the subtle change in Peter's posture and grinned faintly. "You didn't expect that. Huh. Well, it makes sense. You've known her longer. Probably trust her more. So naturally, her keeping secrets that could affect you would sting a little."
Peter's voice was measured when he finally spoke. "How do you know Felicia?"
"She was a teacher at Midtown," Ethan replied as if it were common knowledge. "Until recently, anyway. The school has been freaking out since she vanished after the Mirror Realm incident. I think they believed she was also taken. That's why they're stonewalling reporters. They don't want it coming out that a faculty member disappeared under their noses and that they're trying to keep it under wraps."
Peter opened his mouth again, but Ethan held up a finger.
"And before you ask—no. I didn't know her before the whole demon thing. She didn't tell me who you were either. I figured that out on my own."
Peter stared, stunned silent. It wasn't just the words. It was the way Ethan delivered them—like facts from a textbook. Cool, detached, precise. Not the voice of someone trying to impress. Just someone who knew exactly what cards he was holding.
Ethan leaned forward now, elbows on the table.
"As for what you are probably going to ask next—if I know where she went—I believe she's in San Francisco."
Peter repeated, "San Francisco?"
Ethan nodded slowly. "Tracking Eddie Brock. Or more specifically, the Venom symbiote. I commissioned her to retrieve a small sample of it for me."
That did it. Peter's eyebrows shot up as he sat back, processing the sheer audacity of it.
"You… commissioned Felicia to steal a piece of Venom."
"Mmm," Ethan hummed, picking up his soda and sipping calmly.
"And she agreed?"
Ethan looked thoughtful for a moment, then set the cup down gently. "Well, I don't imagine she did it for fun. She's no saint, but she's not reckless either. I made it worth her while—complete fake identity, house, offshore account, a safehouse. You know, the usual incentives."
Peter leaned forward slightly, voice low. "That's not really what I consider usual. How? Why?"
"As to how, let's just say I'm very clever. As for why, what do you mean?"
"Why do you want a piece of Venom?"
Ethan picked up his slice again, then glanced toward the counter. "Mind if I grab a refill? I hate explaining things on an empty stomach."
Peter blinked again. Timing. It was too perfect. Just as the real questions started—when the tension peaked—Ethan disengaged. Not nervously. Strategically.
"Sure," Peter said dryly with a sigh. "Go ahead."
Ethan stood, calm and unhurried, and made his way to the soda fountain. Peter watched him go, mind buzzing.
The kid was playing him. Not in a hostile way, but definitely in control. Every reveal, every pause, every moment of silence—it was all orchestrated. Peter had dealt with manipulators before, but this was different. Ethan didn't have an agenda in the traditional sense. He wasn't selling anything. He was just… managing information like it was a resource.
A few minutes later, Ethan returned with a fresh cup and sat down. He took another slow bite, then finally spoke.
"You asked why I want a sample of Venom. I could say curiosity. Research. Maybe defense. All technically true."
Peter said nothing, letting the silence hang.
"But the real answer?" Ethan shrugged. "Because I'm building contingency plans for myself. For everything."
He looked Peter dead in the eye. "You've seen what happens when we don't prepare. Demons crawl through mirrors. Friends go missing. Houses being destroyed. If I'm going to survive this world—and help those I care about do the same—I need to understand every threat intimately and see what I can use to my advantage. Even the squirmy ones made of alien goo."
Peter let out a quiet breath. "You sound more like Nick Fury than a high school kid."
Ethan chuckled. "The director of SHIELD wishes he had my work ethic. Also, please keep what we discuss a secret from him. I don't need one of the world's best spies interfering in my business."
Peter had to laugh at that, despite himself. But the humor faded quickly.
"And what happens," Peter asked, "if one of your contingency plans… turns into a threat?"
Ethan finished his slice, dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, then leaned back.
"Then I'll build a contingency for those cases too. It'd be foolish to suffer at the hands of my own machinations."
He didn't say it with pride. He said it like a fact.
Peter stared at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
"You're a terrifying kid, you know that?"
"I try not to be," Ethan replied with a small smile. "But it's nice to be appreciated. Regardless, you must be curious as to why I approached you and am revealing all of this, and no, it's not because Ms. Hardy knows about me. I wanted to have a conversation with you. To survive, I need allies, and I was hoping you could be one of them. I've always been a fan of yours, and you might not be able to tell, but I'm quite excited to meet you in person. It's probably why I'm talking so much. I'm a little nervous."