Morning light bled through the blinds, bathing Peter's small apartment in gold. Outside, Queens hummed with life the thrum of traffic, the chatter of street vendors, the bark of a dog that seemed to never sleep.
Peter groaned, face buried in his pillow. His body ached not from pain, but from the strange, electric restlessness that had taken hold of him since that night. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. The ring on his hand gleamed faintly in the sunlight, a soft, pulsing blue that felt alive.
"Morning," he muttered, stretching.
The ring didn't answer with words. It just warmed slightly, like it was breathing with him. It was odd like that. Clearly it was capable of communicating, but most of the time it simply chose not to.
"Great," Peter said, yawning. "Now I'm having conversations with jewellery."
His phone buzzed. Three texts from Ned. Two from MJ.
Ned: DUDE are you seeing the news??
MJ: blue lights over midtown. that you?
Peter exhaled, running a hand through his messy hair.
"Guess subtlety's off the table."
He suited up after breakfast or what passed for it, a half-burnt piece of toast and coffee from a chipped mug, and climbed out his window.
The city stretched out beneath him like a living map. The hum of life was stronger today. With the ring on his hand, he could feel more than hear the pulse of every human emotion below. Joy, fear, boredom, curiosity. It was overwhelming, like being tuned into a thousand radio stations at once.
He crouched on a rooftop ledge, groaning as he pressed a hand to his mask. "Okay, sensory overload. Gotta tone this down a bit"
The ring pulsed again, faintly, like it understood. The flood quieted.
Then he felt it sharp, sudden panic. A surge of fear somewhere east, near 34th Street. It wasn't a sound or a voice more like an instinct tugging at him.
He leapt.
Wind tore past his ears as he swung through the city, the hum of traffic below blending into the rush of adrenaline. When he reached the source, chaos was already unfolding. Workers scattered. Sirens blared in the distance.
A support beam toppled toward a group of workers. Peter dove, webbing the beam midair. The ring flared blue, light bursting through his fingertips. The metal froze in place, weightless.
Everyone stared.
A mother screamed a boy was trapped under fallen scaffolding. Peter sprinted forward, grabbing the frame. Metal shrieked. For a heartbeat, doubt crept in too heavy.
The ring whispered softly: Believe.
Blue light surged through his arms. The scaffolding lifted like paper. Peter helped the boy crawl out. The kid's wide eyes reflected the glow from Peter's chest emblem, the spider now pulsing faintly with the same blue light.
"You're okay," Peter said, trying to sound calm.
The mother rushed over, hugging her son. Her eyes met Peter's. "You were glowing."
Peter blinked. "Uh, laundry detergent accident. Really bright whites."
He fired a web and launched away before she could respond.
That night, the city buzzed with news.
SPIDER-MAN SAVES MIDTOWN IN BLUE LIGHT SHOW.
Peter sat at his desk, mask off, the glow from the ring washing over his hands. He turned it slowly, inspecting the strange symbol that shimmered faintly in the dark.
The Ancient One's words echoed in his mind:
"Power drawn from an unknown source can be unpredictable."
He sighed. "Story of my life."
The ring's voice came softly, threading into the quiet of his room.
You are uneasy.
"Yeah," Peter said. "You think?"
You saved lives today. Why doubt?
He leaned back in his chair. "Because that's kinda my thing. I mess things up. I mean, I just made national news for wearing blue and putting up a light show. Not exactly the low-profile hero I was going for."
Hope cannot hide, Peter Parker. It shines, even in shadow.
He looked at the ring, then at the photo of Uncle Ben beside it. "You sound like him, you know."
Perhaps that is why you listen.
Peter smiled faintly. "You've got jokes now. Great."
Thousands of miles away, under the Himalayan moon, the courtyard of Kamar Taj shimmered with faint orange light.
The Ancient One sat cross-legged, her mind still as water. Wong appeared beside her, his expression grim.
"He grows stronger," Wong said. "The energy you sensed it's spreading."
"I know."
"Do we intervene?"
The Ancient One's gaze remained on the swirling mandala before her. "Not yet. His light is pure. But such light always creates shadow. When the time comes, he will need guidance."
"Or protection?" Wong asked.
Her lips curved faintly. "Perhaps both."
In Queens, Peter tossed restlessly on his bed. He couldn't sleep.
The city outside was alive, but he felt tense, like the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders. He turned his hand, watching the faint blue reflection dance across the ceiling.
"Why me?" he whispered.
For a moment, there was silence. Then a response, quiet and warm.
Because you act through love. Not for glory. Not for fear. You hope for others, even when you cannot for yourself.
Peter swallowed hard. "Then let's make sure it's worth it."
The ring pulsed once a promise, or maybe just a heartbeat, and the night settled around him.
Meanwhile, across the river in Manhattan, in the gleaming glass of Stark Tower's upper floors, Tony Stark reviewed footage of the 34th Street incident.
Usually some kid playing hero wouldn't have warranted Tony Stark's attention, but after the viral had gone viral today, he found himself baffled by the blue energy that the boy had used to save the child.
He zoomed in on a blurry frame: a masked figure, blue and black, suspended midair, a faint blue glow emanating from his chest.
"Jarvis," Tony said, leaning closer. "Enhance that light signature."
The AI's voice was smooth. "Energy output inconsistent with no known source, sir. Radiation signature unidentified."
Tony smirked faintly. "Huh. So the kid's got new toys."
He paused, watching the light flicker across the screen.
"How does it work though?," he murmured as he paced around his room, "Is it even science? Maybe telekinetic like some of those mutants? Alien tech?"
The hologram froze on Spider-Man's glowing chest. Tony leaned closer, brow furrowing.
"Jarvis, trace that energy. I want every satellite, every sensor scanning for it."
"Understood, sir."
"And find out who he is, Jarvis."
"And if he doesn't want to be found, sir?"
Tony smirked, lifting a glass of scotch.
"Everyone wants to be found for the right reason."
The hologram flickered, blue light bathing the room as the screen froze on the image of the masked boy.