[Attention! The skill Earth Domination has been integrated into your consciousness. Due to its physical and spiritual nature, the host will feel an immediate change in their connection to the ground.]
Peter didn't have time to process the description. The air in the underground of the "Web" seemed to grow heavier, and a strange vibration rose through his feet, coming directly from the concrete foundations of the building.
It wasn't Spider-Sense. It was something deeper, more… telluric.
He closed his eyes and, for a second, "saw" through the ground. He felt the steel structure of the building, the sewer pipes running beneath the street, the composition of New York's clay-rich soil, and the bedrock kilometers below.
"What… what is this?" Peter murmured, opening his eyes. They glowed with a fleeting brown-golden hue before returning to normal.
Instinctively, he took a step forward, then immediately pulled his foot back, shaking his head lightly.
"Not now," he murmured. "It could be dangerous to use this here."
Peter felt a throbbing at his temples. The information was there, rooted in his brain as if he had spent years in an isolated monastery practicing combat forms that prioritized stability over agility.
It was the polar opposite of his usual fighting style. Spider-Man was fluid, aerial, constant motion. Earth Domination demanded that he become a fixed point in the chaos.
He trembled, his body practically begging him to test this new power.
"System," he whispered, trying to calm the tremor in his hands. "This ability… is it magical? Or genetic?"
[Ding! It is a manipulation of vital energy (Chi) attuned to the vibrational frequency of solid matter. As the host already possesses a superhuman physical constitution, adaptation was accelerated. Initial Proficiency Rank: Novice.]
He looked at a piece of concrete debris left over from the renovation, in the corner of the lab.
Just a little bit wouldn't hurt, right?
He extended his hand, trying to imitate one of the movements that now lived in his muscle memory. He took a short, firm step, striking the air with a clenched fist.
Whum!
The piece of concrete didn't just levitate; it shot upward and shattered against the reinforced ceiling, leaving a deep mark.
"Wow. Okay. I am definitely not using this on a common mugger unless I want them to turn into a postage stamp," Peter murmured, impressed and slightly frightened by the brute force of the technique.
The dust from the concrete he had just shattered was still floating in the air when Peter heard metallic footsteps on the stairs. On reflex, he kicked the stone remnants under a workbench and tried to look busy with a tablet.
Karai appeared in the doorway, narrowing her eyes at the mark on the ceiling. "The ceiling is new, Peter. If you plan on bringing the building down, let me know so I can move the servers first."
"I… uh… testing web-fluid pressure! New nozzle, you know how it is, lots of power," Peter lied, forcing a sheepish smile.
Karai didn't look convinced, but she shrugged. "Whatever. If the building collapses, it's your loss. By the way, speaking of losses, we have news about Shadow-Step Solutions. We just closed our first official contract."
"Seriously? That fast?"
"Red Hook Port," she explained, crossing her arms. "A fine wine importer was being extorted by a local gang tied to Tombstone. They wanted security the police can't provide without bureaucracy. I sent Kenji and four others. In less than two hours, the extortionists were 'convinced' to change careers. Payment was five thousand dollars upfront, with a monthly fee of two thousand for ongoing protection."
Peter sighed. "Try to make sure the 'convincing' doesn't involve wheelchairs, Karai."
"They're alive and intact, just very, very scared. Our finances now total sixty-two thousand dollars. After deducting the rent for the 'Web,' industrial electricity, and the new servers, we have positive cash flow. If we keep this up, in two months we'll be able to buy this building instead of renting it."
Peter whistled, impressed. It was strange to see his financial life stabilizing through methods bordering on paramilitarism, but he couldn't deny it was kind of cool.
When Karai left to supervise combat training upstairs, Peter felt an itch. He still had 130 GP.
'I need more utilities,' he thought. 'Earth Domination is incredible, but it consumes energy. If I have more support items, I can save my Chi and my webs.'
Jesus, maybe he was becoming an addict.
"System, let's go. Five more Iron Rank rolls!"
[GP: -50]
[Remaining GP: 80]
[Progress to Level 2: 350/500]
[Lottery results:
Long-Lasting Military Rations x20: (Flavor: "Chicken that never saw the light of day," but restores energy quickly.)
Thermal Invisibility Cloak (Iron Rank): A cloak that camouflages body heat. (Doesn't make you invisible to the eye, but frustrates drones and infrared sensors.)
Concentration Pill x3: Increases perception and mental focus for 30 minutes. (Side effect: Mild headache after use.)
Foot Clan Member x10
Item: Expanded Space Backpack (Iron Rank): Looks like a normal backpack, but has double the internal capacity without increasing external weight.]
"Ten new ninjas," Peter murmured. "The family is growing too fast. At least the backpack could be useful for Karai to carry stuff around."
The memories of the ten new recruits hit his mind, but now he was already becoming hardened to it. Once again, he saw himself rescuing them from a fire. Peter was genuinely starting to want to know what happened in that fire.
Removing all items and clan members from the inventory, Peter—after a brief explanation of what was going on to the new members—handed them the items and asked them to deliver them to Karai upstairs, which they promptly obeyed.
Peter looked down; the sensation of "weight" in his feet was becoming unbearable. He needed to understand what Earth Domination was before trying to use it in a real fight. Peter knew the perfect place: an old abandoned quarry on the outskirts of New Jersey, far enough away not to attract the attention of the Avengers or Daredevil.
He stepped onto his new Galvan Board. The ionic hum was almost inaudible.
"Karai, I'm heading out for a 'stress test.' I'll be back in two hours!" he shouted as he ascended through the ventilation shaft that led to the roof.
Web-swinging was fun, but flying on the board was… efficient. In just a few minutes, he crossed the river and reached the deserted quarry, surrounded by barbed-wire fences and "Danger" signs.
Peter landed in the center of a large pit of sand and gravel. He removed his mask, feeling the cold wind.
"Okay, Parker. Feet firm. Spine straight."
He remembered the philosophy of the technique: The Earth does not retreat.
He focused on a rock the size of a truck tire five meters away. Instead of trying to "pull" it like telekinesis, he imagined the rock as an extension of his own arm. He took a heavy step — BOOM — the ground beneath his foot cracked.
With an upward sweep of his arms, the rock burst from the ground as if fired from a spring.
"Holy God!"
He spun his body, throwing a punch into the air toward a stone wall. The motion of his arm was followed by a column of earth erupting from the ground, slamming into the wall with the force of a battering ram. The impact made the entire quarry vibrate.
He began to experiment. Circular movements allowed him to create sand whirlwinds for cover. Sharp, rapid motions created stone spikes. But what impressed him most was the defense.
Peter crossed his arms in front of his face and stomped hard. Instantly, a slab of solid rock, ten centimeters thick, rose from the ground, completely shielding him.
"This… is definitely a strong trump card," Peter arched his body, panting. The physical effort was different from fighting; he felt as though he were moving mountains with his own muscles.
He spent the next hour practicing the "Basic Forms." He discovered that if he maintained the connection with the ground, his Spider-Sense seemed to expand, sensing vibrations through the earth — a kind of tactile sonar.
However, the fatigue came quickly. Earth Domination demanded a force of will that drained his Chi. After forty minutes, his legs began to tremble.
"Mental note: Don't try to move an entire hill yet," he said, sitting down on a stone he himself had shaped to look like a bench.
He opened the system while catching his breath.
[Current GP: 80]
[Progress to Level 2: 350/500]
"Just one hundred and fifty more points to level two," Peter smiled behind the mask he had just put back on. "System, is it possible for me to trigger more missions? And how much proficiency do I have in my skills so far?"
[Ding! Mission generation rate is tied to your interaction with the world. The more you expand your influence or involve yourself in significant events, the more opportunities the System will find to provide missions.]
[As for proficiency, here is the current data:
Earth Domination: Novice (12%)
Basic Carpentry: Novice (00%)
Persuasion: Novice (28%)
Spider Sense: Specialist (18%)]
Peter sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead. He felt like he'd just done leg day with the Hulk. "Twelve percent… I can barely lift a boulder without getting winded and I already feel like a master. The road is going to be long."
He stood up, planning to practice for a few more hours before heading back.
POV Tombstone
I was sitting in my office, atop my casino, watching the lights of Manhattan. The report on Red Hook Port lay on my desk, delivered by a henchman who was still trembling with fear.
"So tell me again," I said, my voice a low growl that made the window glass vibrate. "My men were 'convinced' to back off from a wine importer by a… security company?"
"Y-yes, Mr. Lincoln," the rat stammered. "Shadow-Step Solutions. They didn't wear badges, just dark clothes and moved like ghosts. In seconds, all our collectors were on the ground, tied and gagged. They didn't say anything, just let a card fall."
I picked up the small piece of paper. The logo was simple, professional. I smiled, revealing my sharp teeth. New York was full of spandex heroes, but this was a new move. Some retired police captain or ex-mercenary thinking he could build a militia and bite into my territory? Pathetic.
"Keep the men on alert, but don't do anything drastic yet," I ordered, tossing the card into the ashtray. "Companies like that pop up and die every month. They think they're untouchable until their building collapses with everyone inside. Let them play heroes at the port for a week. When they feel safe, I'll personally break the spine of this 'startup.'"
POV Normal
Peter spent the rest of the afternoon at the quarry, alternating between the ecstasy of discovery and absolute physical exhaustion. He found that Earth Domination wasn't just about brute force; it was about listening. If he closed his eyes and quieted his mind, he could feel the "pulse" of the rocks. In a moment of absolute focus, he managed to make the gravel around him levitate and orbit his body like a belt of miniature asteroids. It was visually incredible, but the headache that followed — a clear sign his Chi was being drained — forced him to stop.
"Okay, that's enough for today," he murmured, storing the Galvan Board in his mental inventory and feeling the familiar weight of gravity return to his feet.
After a quick shower at an abandoned gas station to wash the limestone dust from his suit, Peter changed clothes and headed to Queens. It was Saturday, and in Peter Parker's dictionary, Saturday afternoon had a sacred meaning: apple pie and tea with Aunt May. He couldn't show up looking like he'd just crawled out of a mine collapse, so he used the little webbing he had left to get back to his childhood neighborhood quickly.
Walking along the sidewalks of Forest Hills always brought a bittersweet sense of peace. As the world around Peter grew increasingly chaotic, Aunt May's house remained a safe harbor, untouched by time. The garden was well tended; May had always loved gardening.
"Peter, dear! What a wonderful surprise,"
May exclaimed as she opened the door, wrapping him in a hug that smelled of lavender and cinnamon. "You look… stronger? Or maybe it's just that new hoodie."
"Hi, May. Yeah, I've been doing some extra workouts at work," he lied with a veteran's ease, feeling the familiar guilt poke at his stomach.
They spent the next two hours talking about trivial things. May chatted about bridge club gossip and how wheat prices were going up, while Peter talked about his projects at Horizon Labs, carefully omitting the part where he now commanded a secret paramilitary organization. For a moment, sitting in that sunlit kitchen, the Gacha System and everything that had happened over the last few days felt like a fever dream.
"You seem calmer, Peter," May observed, serving him a second slice of pie. "There was a time when you looked like you were carrying the weight of the whole world on your shoulders. I'm glad you've found a bit of… balance."
Peter smiled. "I think I'm finally learning how to deal with responsibility, May. I've got good… friends helping me now."
As he was leaving, May handed him a plastic container with leftovers. "For your dinner. I know you forget to eat when you're focused on those complicated equations." Peter kissed her on the cheek, feeling that no matter how many Gold or Stellar Ranks the system gave him, nothing beat Rank "Aunt May."
The sun was setting, painting the sky a bloody orange. The vibration in his foot — the new sensitivity to the earth — indicated that something heavy was moving a few blocks away. He ducked into an alley, suited up, and climbed the wall. Saturday afternoon peace was over. The night belonged to Spider-Man.
POV Kenji
The salty air of Red Hook carried the smell of diesel oil and rotten fish. I was crouched atop a container, motionless, observing the surroundings through a thermal visor integrated into my mask. Behind me, my four brothers were little more than blurs in the darkness.
Master Parker gave us this mission, but it was Lady Karai who laid out the rules of engagement.
"Targets detected," Akari whispered over the comms. "Three vehicles approaching the south gate. Armed men. I recognize the tattoos. Tombstone's gang. They're back to test our resolve."
I felt the weight of my sword on my back, but knew I shouldn't draw it unless necessary. The Master prefers restraint over blood. "Initiate 'Silent Shadow' protocol. Do not use lethal force, but make sure they never want to set foot on this pier again."
I slid down the metal container without making a sound. In seconds, I was above the first vehicle. I saw the glint of machine-gun barrels through the glass. They thought they were walking into a gang war, but they didn't know they were stepping into a nightmare.
I landed on the roof of the car and planted a miniature electromagnetic pulse bomb on the chassis. The vehicle's lights died instantly and the engine sputtered. Before the driver could understand what happened, I was already inside, pulling him out through the window. Shadow-Step Solutions wasn't just a security company; it was the beginning of a new order. And we were its foundation.
POV Normal
[Ding! Field Mission: First Contract Defense!]
[Objective: Neutralize Tombstone gang incursion without fatal casualties.]
[Reward: 50 GP]
Peter watched the field mission notification blink across his retina as he walked back toward Brooklyn. He felt the instinctive urge to fire a web and rocket toward the port, but forced himself to stop atop a water tower.
"No," he murmured to himself. "If I want them to be a legitimate force, I can't babysit them through every street skirmish. Kenji and the others are professionals. They know what they're doing."
Besides, scientific curiosity was starting to outweigh vigilante adrenaline. He leapt toward the "Web," entering discreetly through the underground ventilation duct. The lab was silent, lit only by the soft glow of the servers.
He summoned the Galvan Board again. It floated there, a marvel of engineering that defied much of what Peter knew about propulsion. With a set of precision screwdrivers and an advanced multimeter, he began opening one of the side access panels.
"Alright, let's see what makes you purr…"
When he removed the armor plating, Peter didn't find copper wires or conventional lithium-ion batteries. Instead, the interior was composed of filaments of a translucent material pulsing with a greenish light, connected to a central core that looked like a tiny bottled star.
Peter used the spectrometer for materials analysis. The metal casing was a titanium alloy enriched with an element not listed on Earth's periodic table. It was extremely light, yet its molecular density suggested it could withstand a direct tank impact.
In the engine, the core didn't burn fuel; it seemed to manipulate local gravity. "This isn't standard ionic propulsion," Peter noted on his tablet, eyes shining with excitement. "It's a torsion field generator. It's not pushing air; it's almost like it's ignoring gravity."
He spent the next three hours completely immersed. Peter discovered the board had a passive neural interface — it read the user's skin currents to anticipate maneuvers.
"If I can isolate this stabilization principle, I could apply it to my web-shooters for long-range trajectories… or even create a suit that compensates kinetic impacts far more efficiently," he mused, lost in thought.
The sound of the freight elevator snapped him back to reality. Peter quickly covered the board with a gray tarp just before Kenji, Akari, and the other three ninjas entered. They looked impeccable, save for a bit of asphalt dust on their uniforms and slightly labored breathing.
Kenji stepped forward and bowed. "Master. The incursion was repelled. Lincoln's men were anonymously delivered to the police, with evidence of their extortion crimes affixed to their chests."
"Any injuries?" Peter asked, standing from the workbench.
"Only minor bruises and wounded pride for the aggressors," Akari reported, wiping an oil stain from her glove.
"Although…" Kenji began, "we did encounter that Hell's Kitchen vigilante."
"You ran into Daredevil?" Spider's eyes widened. "Did he mistake you for the Hand?"
"No, sir," Akari replied. "He arrived after we had already finished the job, but there was an interaction…"
Flashback
POV Kenji
The driver, a brute twice my weight, tried to pull a knife, but my movement was purely instinctive. A palm strike to the arm nerve and the blade clattered onto the asphalt. In less than thirty seconds, all seven men were on the ground, immobilized by high-strength polymer restraints.
That's when the air changed.
There were no footsteps, no displacement of air like when Master Parker lands. It was just a sudden weight in the atmosphere. From atop a cargo crane, a red silhouette leapt, landing silently between us and the fallen men.
Daredevil.
He tilted his head strangely, almost as if he were "looking" at us with his ears. His batons were joined in his right hand, but he didn't immediately take an attack stance. He simply stood there, rain running down his horned mask.
"You don't smell like the Hand," his voice came out low, hoarse, carrying an authority that seemed to rise from the depths of hell. "There's no cheap incense, no rot of black magic. But you move like them."
Akari stepped forward, her hand hovering dangerously close to her tactical tool pouch. I placed a hand on her shoulder, signaling her to step back.
"We are not what you seek, vigilante," I said, keeping my voice monotone and steady. "We are Shadow-Step Solutions. A duly registered private security company. These men were violating our client's property and threatening civilians."
Daredevil let out a sound that might have been a dry laugh. "Security company? Your heartbeats are too slow for common mercenaries. Steady. Almost rhythmic. As if you were trained from the cradle."
He took a slow step toward us. I could feel the pressure emanating from him; it was like standing before a predator that didn't need eyes to know exactly where its prey hid the knife.
"I hear steel on your backs," he said, pointing his baton toward my shoulder. "And I hear high-frequency electronic devices on your wrists. You're too modern for the Hand, but too dangerous for Brooklyn. Who hired you? Who trained you?"
"Our training is confidential, and our clients are protected by privacy clauses," I replied, cold sweat forming beneath my mask. I knew that if he wanted to, this conversation would end in blood within seconds. "We're here to clean up the streets, vigilante. Just like you."
"I don't work with armies," Daredevil growled, his posture suddenly aggressive. "And New York doesn't need another masked militia. Tell your boss I'll be watching. If a single one of these men is hurt beyond what's necessary, or if I smell corruption coming from this 'company,' I will come after every one of you."
With a fluid motion, he fired his cable and vanished into the harbor mist.
POV Normal
Peter listened to Kenji's account in silence, feeling the weight of Daredevil's words. Matt Murdock had a nose — and ears — for trouble, and having the "Man Without Fear" sniffing around Shadow-Step Solutions on day one wasn't exactly what he'd planned.
"He didn't attack?" Peter asked, crossing his arms.
"No, Master," Kenji replied. "He seemed confused. He said our 'heart rhythm' was different. But he let us go after we handed Lincoln's men over to the police."
"Alright. Good work, everyone," Peter sighed, exhaustion catching up to him. "Go rest. Karai will handle the final report."
[Ding! Field Mission Completed: First Contract Defense!]
[Reward: 50 GP added.]
[Current Total: 130 GP.]
The ninjas withdrew, leaving Peter alone in the lab. The silence was broken only by the low hum of the servers. Peter looked at the Galvan Board beneath the tarp, then at his own hands, which still carried the memory of the earth's vibration at the quarry.
He was building something big. Maybe too big.
"What am I doing, Ben?" he whispered into the darkness. "Am I creating a solution, or just a new kind of problem?"
"You're overthinking again, Peter," Karai said, leaning against the steel doorway. "I can hear the gears in your head grinding from upstairs."
"Daredevil was at the port, Karai," Peter replied, turning to her. "He's the most stubborn guy I know. If he decides Shadow-Step is a problem, he won't stop until he finds out who's behind it. And if he finds out it's me…"
"If he finds out it's you, he'll find Spider-Man trying to do what institutions failed to do: create a real structure of protection," Karai walked to the workbench, glancing at the tarp-covered board. "Murdock is a moralist. He believes in the system, even when the system beats him every night. We don't have that luxury. Tombstone won't send lawyers next time, Peter."
"I know. Just… let's keep a low profile. No unnecessary displays."
[Ding! New Daily Mission Available!]
[Objective: Conduct a joint patrol with a subordinate to increase Combat Synergy.]
[Reward: 20 GP]
Peter gave an ironic smile beneath the mask he hadn't fully removed yet. "Karai, want to take a walk? Let's see how Brooklyn's breathing tonight."
Brooklyn. 00:45 AM
Peter and Karai moved through the rooftop shadows like two specters. She, in her light, camouflaged armor; he, in the classic suit, but keeping closer to chimneys and ventilation ducts.
The sensation in Peter's feet was constant. He felt the city's pulse. Every car passing over asphalt, every group of youths running through an alley, the vibrations of industrial machines in nearby factories. It was as if the city were whispering secrets through the concrete.
"There," Karai pointed to a pharmaceutical distribution warehouse three blocks away. "Three men on the roof. Suppressors. Not Maggia, not Tombstone. Neither would spend that much on gear for thugs."
Peter focused his vision, eyes narrowing. "Mercenaries. Probably trying to steal a shipment of painkillers and antibiotics for the black market. That's a sector Shadow-Step is supposed to cover tomorrow."
"Looks like crime doesn't follow business hours," Karai drew a small throwing knife, but didn't throw it. "What's the plan? Loud and direct, or discreet?"
"Let's test something new," Peter said, confidence rising up his spine. "Take the two on the left. I'll handle the leader and the heavy support on the ground."
Webhead jumped, but didn't fire a web.
He used the momentum and, upon hitting the neighboring building's wall, instead of just sticking, he felt the structure. He kicked the wall — not to propel himself, but to push.
A chunk of plaster broke loose and flew like a projectile, striking the mercenary's weapon and ripping it from his hands before he could react.
Karai was a blur. She appeared behind the two subordinates, striking pressure points with surgical precision. They fell before they heard the wind.
Peter landed in the middle of the yard, surrounded by four more mercenaries who poured out of the warehouse.
"Spider-Man? Here?" one of them shouted, raising a rifle.
Spider didn't leap to the roof. He planted his feet on the ground, bending his knees into an Earth Domination stance he had practiced at the quarry.
"Beautiful night for a peaceful surrender, boys," he said.
"Fire!"
The instant the trigger was pulled, Peter slammed his open palm into the ground.
BOOM!
The yard's asphalt didn't just crack; it rose in a wave of stone and tar, forming an instant barrier that absorbed the bullets. Before the dust settled, Peter spun and, with a "pulling" motion of his foot, caused the ground beneath the mercenaries to give way. They sank knee-deep into suddenly softened concrete, which hardened again in a second, trapping them like statues on a pedestal of ill will.
Karai landed beside him, sheathing her blade. She looked at the men trapped in the ground, then at Peter.
"That… wasn't webbing, Peter. Since when do you do that?"
"New magic trick. I've been practicing," Peter brushed dust from his hands, feeling the Chi drain fatigue but satisfied.
[Ding! Daily Mission Completed!]
[Synergy with Karai increased: 5%]
[Reward: 20 GP added.]
[Current Total: 150 GP.]
Peter raised an eyebrow. 'What happens when synergy reaches 100%?'
[Ding! Reaching 100% Synergy unlocks the Bond Skill: a unique combined move between the Host and the Character, as well as a passive increase to both their attributes when fighting on the same battlefield!]
"Magic trick, Spider-Man? Really?" Karai walked up to one of the trapped men, yanking the rifle from his hands. "If you're going to hide secrets from me, at least come up with a better excuse."
"I'm not hiding, I'm just… integrating new variables into my skill set," Peter replied, hopping onto the top of a cargo crate. "Come on, I already called the police. They'll be here in a few minutes."
They left the warehouse behind, but the patrol was far from over. For nearly two hours, the pair moved along the borders between Brooklyn and Queens. For Peter, it was a revealing experience.
Normally, his patrol was solitary — an internal monologue of bad jokes to mask exhaustion. But with Karai, it was much more fun, and faster.
She didn't need orders. When Peter detected a crime in progress through ground vibrations — a convenience store robbery or a group of vandals surrounding a car — Karai was already positioning herself in the criminals' blind spot before he even fired his first web.
In an alley near Atlantic Avenue, they stopped a kidnapping. Peter used his new connection to the earth to sense the exact number of heartbeats inside the van before acting. When he opened the rear doors, Karai had already neutralized the driver and the lookout outside without making a sound.
"You know," Peter said as they climbed toward the top of an old office building by the waterfront, "I could get used to this. You make fieldwork seem… clean."
The wind blew hard up there, carrying the scent of the ocean and the distant sound of sirens. Peter felt his stomach growl — a reminder that Earth Domination burned calories like an industrial furnace.
"Okay, strategic pause," Peter declared, sitting on the ledge and swinging his legs over the abyss. "I'm starving, and luckily, I know a place that delivers to… unconventional locations."
He pulled out his phone, and five minutes later, a delivery drone from a local pizzeria — one Peter knew was run by an old contact who didn't ask questions about rooftop deliveries — buzzed toward them.
Peter took the cardboard box, the heat of grease and cheese seeping through his gloves. He opened the lid, revealing an extra pepperoni pizza glistening in the moonlight.
Peter lifted his mask to his nose, allowing himself to inhale the glorious aroma of melted cheese. He offered a slice to Karai, who watched him with a mix of disbelief and amusement.
"You ordered pizza. In the middle of a patrol. On top of a twelve-story building," she stated, taking the slice delicately with her gloved fingers. "Your sense of priorities remains intact, Peter."
Peter replied, taking a generous bite. "Eating on rooftops is a New York tradition. You should try it more often. Helps with perspective."
They sat there for a while, eating in comfortable silence.
"Karai…" Peter began. "What am I to you?"
He had been curious about it for a while. He had the memories, the reasons why Karai cared and was loyal to him. But Peter didn't know exactly how she saw him. A brother? A teacher? A friend? What was he to her? He wanted to know.
Karai stopped with the pizza slice millimeters from her mouth. The reflection of the city lights on her silver armor seemed to freeze for a moment. She didn't look away; instead, she stared at the horizon, where the Manhattan Bridge traced an arc of light over the East River.
"You are an inconvenience, Peter," she finally said, her voice stripped of its former military hardness. "A statistical error. In the memories I carry… the world was simple. There was the Clan, there was the enemy, and there was power. Then you appeared. Someone strong enough to crush diamonds with his hands, yet who prefers to spend his time rescuing cats from trees or worrying whether the criminals he caught have health insurance."
She took a slow bite of pizza, chewing with an elegance that contrasted with the setting.
"To me, you are proof that my father was wrong. He said compassion was a disease that dulled the blade. But I've seen you fight. I've seen you bleed for people who don't even know your name. And somehow, that makes you more dangerous than any assassin I've ever trained." She turned her face toward him, and Peter saw a glint of something like loyalty mixed with almost fraternal protectiveness. "You are the center of my compass now. Without you, I'd just be another weapon without a master, cutting in the dark. You give me a reason not to be the monster I was raised to be."
Peter swallowed the bite of pizza that seemed stuck in his throat. He'd expected a tactical answer, something about "hierarchy" or "life debt," but that… that was unexpected.
"Wow," Peter murmured, looking down at his feet. "And here I thought I was just the guy who owed you a coffee."
"Don't get used to the sentimentality."
Spider let out a muffled laugh. "…Thank you, Karai."
She smiled. "I'm the one who should thank you, Peter."