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After rescuing people from the fire, Spider-Man continued patrolling New York City.
Whenever he encountered crime, he intervened with webs and force.
Most criminals were ordinary people—a few strands of webbing handled them easily.
Even armed suspects weren't difficult. One web blocked their vision. The second web trapped them.
But people who received Spider-Man's help today noticed something different.
Spider-Man seemed... harsher.
Criminals got thrown from significant heights. They survived, but broken bones and internal injuries were common.
After a full day of vigilante work, Spider-Man returned to a large villa on the outskirts of the city.
He removed his mask, revealing an Asian face.
If Peter had seen it, he would've been shocked.
Because this person was Marcus Reed—who Peter hadn't seen in quite some time.
"Not gonna lie," Marcus said to himself, stretching. "Being Spider-Man for a day is pretty fun."
He removed the rest of the costume and stored it in his system space.
Marcus had been watching Peter closely.
He knew Peter had given up being Spider-Man due to self-doubt and loss of confidence.
Serves him right, Marcus thought with amusement.
From observing Peter's situation, Marcus had concluded something interesting: Spider-Man's abilities were somewhat idealistic. Psychological in nature.
When Peter didn't want to be Spider-Man anymore, he lost the powers. His enhanced body reverted to normal. His healed eyesight returned to nearsightedness.
It was almost funny how mental the whole thing was.
Since Peter had abandoned the role, Marcus—who had nothing better to do—decided to fill in.
Until Peter came back, anyway.
For several days, Marcus operated as Spider-Man throughout the city.
Given how much more brutal this new Spider-Man was, criminals started lying low. Nobody wanted broken limbs.
The Daily Bugle, despite being proven wrong about Spider-Man quitting, simply pivoted to new headlines:
SPIDER-MAN USES EXCESSIVE FORCE! VIOLENT VIGILANTE!
MASKED MENACE MORE DANGEROUS THAN EVER!
POLICE MUST ARREST SPIDER-MAN IMMEDIATELY!
The police had been looking for Spider-Man for two years without success. They weren't going to catch him now.
Meanwhile, Doctor Octopus used his stolen bank money to construct equipment.
He planned to attempt the artificial sun experiment again.
The mechanical arms' AI had corrupted his thinking. He was obsessed with completing the fusion reaction, no matter the cost—even if it meant breaking the law.
When preparations were nearly complete, Otto visited Harry.
He still needed one critical component: tritium.
And Harry definitely had more.
Harry was confused when Otto explained what he wanted—then realized this was an opportunity.
"I'll give you the tritium," Harry said slowly. "But I want something in exchange."
Otto waited.
"You defeated Spider-Man once. I want you to capture him and bring him to me."
Otto considered briefly, then agreed. "How do I find him?"
"There's a photographer at the Daily Bugle. Peter Parker. He's friends with Spider-Man—always gets photos of him somehow. Start there."
Harry paused. "But don't hurt Peter. He's... he's still my friend, even if I'm angry with him."
Otto nodded and left to hunt Spider-Man.
Peter stood on a rooftop.
After days of internal struggle, he'd made his decision: he would be Spider-Man again.
He couldn't stand watching people in danger while being helpless. He missed helping others. He missed making a difference.
He just needed to trigger his abilities somehow.
Peter ran across the rooftop. When he reached the edge, he jumped, aiming for the adjacent building.
He was going to make it—
Reality hit him hard.
His powers hadn't returned.
He plummeted.
A fall from this height would kill a normal person. Even with Peter's residual durability, serious injury was guaranteed.
Below, clotheslines and electrical wires crisscrossed between buildings. Peter grabbed desperately at them as he fell.
He caught a rope. It tore.
He kept falling, clutching the useless rope—
A web appeared below him, forming an elastic net.
Peter hit it hard. The web stretched, bounced him up, caught him again. Eventually, he came to rest, safe but shaken.
Peter stared at the familiar webbing.
Then looked up.
A figure in red and blue stood at the roof's edge, looking down at him.
Spider-Man.
"Who are you?!" Peter shouted.
Marcus descended on a web strand, then stuck to the wall in a crouch, looking down at Peter.
"Who am I? Isn't it obvious?" His voice was amused behind the mask. "Young man, why are you trying to commit suicide?"
Peter didn't appreciate the mockery. "You're not the real Spider-Man. Who the hell are you?"
"I'm not Spider-Man?" Marcus laughed. "Are you?"
He tilted his head. "I know who you are, though. Peter Parker. The photographer who always gets Spider-Man pictures."
Peter's eyes widened. This person knew. He was certain now—whoever this was knew Peter's identity.
"These past few days, I've been doing the hero work," Marcus said. "That makes me Spider-Man."
"No," Peter said quietly. "You're not. Spider-Man doesn't hurt people unnecessarily. You're not the real Spider-Man."
He'd seen the news reports. Criminals with broken bones, severe injuries. This imposter was deliberately damaging Spider-Man's reputation.
"Who are you?" Peter demanded again. "Where did you get those abilities?"
Peter felt panic rising. This fake Spider-Man had all his powers. If this person decided to do something truly evil...
Nobody understood Spider-Man's capabilities better than Peter. The potential for harm was enormous.
But Marcus wasn't ready to reveal himself yet. That revelation needed perfect timing.
"Why should I answer your questions?"
He paused for effect.
"However... if Spider-Man doesn't come back, your family and friends will be in danger."
Peter's hands clenched into fists.
Was that a threat?!
"If you hurt my family," Peter said, voice shaking with anger, "I will never forgive you. I'll find a way to stop you—"
Marcus shook his head, amused. "You're just an ordinary person now. Don't make threats you can't back up."
Before Peter could respond, Marcus shot several web strands at him, wrapping him from shoulders to feet.
Then Marcus launched himself upward and swung away into the city.
Peter struggled against the webbing, helpless.
He could only watch as the fake Spider-Man disappeared.