It was over a week into my new training schedule when something happened that was even remotely interesting.
It was Sunday morning when I woke up to Uncle Ben watching the news, which was reporting on how there had been an accident in the Baxter Building, resulting in a small explosion.
To Uncle Ben, that may not have seemed like much, but to me? It was world-shattering.
For a while now, I had assumed this was the Marvel Cinematic Universe, meaning only the movies would be included. But now? The Baxter Building was home to a special group of people—Marvel's first family!
The Fantastic Four!
Holy shit! They were real!
The moment I realized this, I booted up my computer and searched for them. Reed Richards was young in this universe, just twenty-five. Sue was even younger at twenty-two, Johnny was a teenager at sixteen, Ben Grimm was twenty-five, and Victor Von Doom was thirty.
It sounded like they were the Ultimate version of the Fantastic Four, but it didn't feel like it. Reed was smart and very collected, and Doom was, in fact, ruler of his own nation at this moment. They were college batchmates, and by the looks of things, based on Doom's scientific accomplishments, he didn't value Reed at all, often mocking the man in his papers.
I honestly didn't know what I should do at this point. I mean, they were the FF. Was I supposed to help them? No, no—they could handle themselves. Maybe after I got a suit made, I could introduce myself, but until then, I'd stay put.
So with that done, I found myself enjoying a relaxing Sunday. I had no training, no homework of note, and best of all, Aunt May and Uncle Ben were going out in the afternoon to visit friends and would only come back late at night!
I needed to take advantage of this, and I would. But first things first: a costume. I felt silly trying to be Spider-Man without a costume, so I started to browse through eBay to find one.
I honestly wasn't surprised to be completely horrified at the choices I had. They were all so disgusting! I hated these things! Can't I just get armor? Oh wait... I'm poor. Forgot about that.
But that didn't mean I had to be stuck with shitty-looking spandex. I bought two—one red and one black. I wasn't a big fan of the whole red-and-blue classic costume, and if you didn't figure it out, I was going for the whole Superior Spider-Man thing. So black and red it was!
The costume would arrive in a few days. Good thing too—gave me time to learn how to stitch. It took me most of the morning watching videos upon videos on how to stitch on YouTube, but I did it. It was a very brain-numbing job, didn't really involve heavy thinking, so it was an easy concept to grasp.
When May and Ben left for the day, I went to my room and changed into a nicer set of clothes and went out. I didn't want to be stuck in the house all day. Plus, I was near New York! The greatest city on Earth! I had to explore!
I took the train into the city and sighed as I enjoyed the sights. I know I may have looked giddy like a tourist, but I didn't care! This place was so amazing!
I walked down to Harlem, curious to see what it was like now.
Needless to say, it was a wreck. People were still cleaning things up. Apparently the military did what they could, but the damage was still huge. Debris was still being cleaned away, people were volunteering, and a new organization called "Rebuild Harlem" was on the scene.
My curiosity now satisfied, I left the place, knowing it was in good hands. But as I passed by the Apollo Theater, I looked around and noticed the road was still cracked. This was where they first clashed, and when I looked down the road, I could see the crater where Bruce had landed and transformed into the Hulk.
I grew curious and walked over there. People were told to keep back, but obviously no one listened. People were taking pictures and such, but now all the attention the hole drew was gone. I found myself staring at it in silence.
I was about to leave when I saw something under a rock. I walked into the hole and carefully lifted the heavy stone, and there it was—a brownish stain. Blood. Hulk's blood.
I immediately knew this was dangerous. Not only was it extremely volatile, but it did some funky stuff. I remembered people were mutated when exposed to it. Some guy grew super smart when it seeped into his head... so what would it do to me?
I was curious. I wasn't going to inject myself with it, but... I wanted to know what it was.
I took the rock up and put it in my pants. It was around the size of my hand, not too big. I left Harlem quickly and stuck around the city for another hour for lunch. Soon I was back home in my basement lab, holding the blood-soaked stone.
I scraped off a little bit of the dried blood into a test tube and began the process of making it useful. It took some time, but soon I had a vial of Hulk's diluted blood ready to go. I put the stone under my desk, away from sight. I would need to find a better place to hide it, and soon.
But back to the blood. I analyzed it under a microscope. Not much I could see, but I did find the blood cells were still active. Usually, dried blood would mean dead cells—hence why they lose their color—but now... the Hulk's cells had some amazing properties.
I studied the blood a bit longer, noting a few more properties it had, like how any form of food I introduced—like glucose or carbohydrates—was consumed within seconds. It was almost like the damn thing was alive.
After my little experiments with Hulk's blood, I went out once more, this time to the hangar in the abandoned train yard. I jumped over the fence and walked toward the hangar. But when I got there, I noticed the doors had already been opened.
I groaned. Whenever I left this place, I made sure to close the doors. Who else was here? I pushed the hangar doors wide open and walked inside. "Hello? Is anyone here?" I asked.
"What the heck?" a voice came from inside the hangar. Stepping out from behind the stack of iron beams was Flash and Liz, followed by Harry and MJ, all looking surprised to see Peter there.
"Parker?!" Flash growled. "What the hell are you doing here?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Painting the ceiling. And you guys?"
"Hey, Pete!" Harry called out with a smile, acting like we were old buddies, which sadly we were, but not anymore. Guess he brought them here. I remembered him and Peter finding this place together back in the day. "I was just showing these guys this amazing place! I didn't know you still come here!"
I shrugged. "From time to time." I looked to the side and saw MJ blushing red. I narrowed my eyes. I looked at Liz and spotted her looking frustrated at me. I could see her hair was a mess and Flash looked pissed as well.
Suddenly realization dawned on me. "Ah, so you guys came here to make out, I see."
Liz's face turned red. "What?! No! Get your head out of the gutter, Parker!"
I shrugged. "Says the girl who looks like she just got thrown into a washing machine." I then made eye contact with MJ and she blushed even harder. "Well, I suppose congratulations are in order. I'll leave you guys alone. Lock up when you're done."
I turned to leave when suddenly MJ spoke up. "Ah, wait, Peter." She looked nervously at Harry. "I think I better go as well. My aunt would be getting worried."
Harry looked hurt. "What? Are you serious? But we just got here."
"Yeah, I'm sorry. I'll see you in school, Harry. Bye, Liz. Bye, Flash." And with that, she practically ran out of the hangar.
I groaned as I followed her outside. We walked to the fence where I helped her climb over it. When we were walking away, I finally asked, "So... you and Harry, huh?"
MJ's eyes widened. "What? No!"
I rolled my eyes. "You don't need to lie, Mary Jane. I don't personally care who you're with. It's your business, not mine."
MJ looked away as we walked back to our homes. I honestly didn't want to go, but MJ looked kind of shaken up. I couldn't help but wonder if something had happened between her and Harry.
"He... he thought I wanted to make out," MJ spoke up finally.
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why did he think that?"
MJ shook her head. "I don't know."
"Mary Jane... did he try to force something?" I asked.
"What? No! He didn't do anything! It's just..." She looked ashamed. "I guess I must have seemed interested. I... it's my fault, really. I'll apologize to him tomorrow."
I looked at her, so beaten and hurt. Nothing like the amazing girl I'd met the first week I was Peter Parker—none of the life or joy. It was honestly horrible to watch.
"Don't apologize," I spoke up, gaining her attention. She looked up curiously, and I explained, "He hurt you, tried to push the boundaries. Don't apologize to him. Make him say he's sorry. Harry is... he was a friend, or something like that. Now he's just a jerk. He likes getting his way. Don't let him push you around."
MJ looked surprised but nodded silently all the same. We walked back to her house. She looked deep in thought. When it was time to go our own ways, she finally spoke. "Peter... thanks for coming when you did. I... I know I haven't really been the best friend, but—"
"Enough," I snapped, getting pissed at the pathetic apology she felt she had to give. "It's fine. Just get home safe. Remember, don't let him walk over you."
"Peter, I'm trying to apologize. I know I haven't really been spending much time with you in school, and I feel bad. I'm sorry."
I shrugged. "It's fine. I don't mind." I walked away.
MJ blinked. "Peter?"
"Night, Mary Jane," I wished her well before going inside my room and slamming the door behind me.
I wondered if I was being hostile. Heck, I didn't even call her MJ. But it hurt. It hurt, and... fucking teenage hormones.
***
The two weeks went by quickly for me—too quickly. I had training, the few times I snuck into the train yard for an impromptu workout, learning as much as I could, and then making the Spider-Man costume.
Colleen really began to push me the second week onward. She realized I could probably become one of her most gifted students. She had me moved to the second-hour classes and always pushed me to learn more and fight harder. I never used my full strength, but I was beginning to see why the Hand trusted her to teach possible future recruits.
School was dull. Whenever I had a lesson I found pointless, or if it was something I already knew, I took out a book to learn something else. I was passable in French now—I could probably hold up a conversation—so now I decided to pick up Spanish.
I did read up on a lot of Reed's theories, though. They were simply fascinating. They spoke of different dimensions and the ways to access them. I already knew this—you know, considering I came from another world—but it was still amazing to see such scientific evidence for it.
I knew I was never going to be as smart as Reed Richards. I couldn't build a teleporter in my garage with a few spare parts lying around. No, but what I could do was be a practical and sane mind. Scientific invention wasn't the only form of genius.
My personal training sessions in the train yard became more of a challenge than anything else. I wanted to push my body to the limits—see how far I could jump, how much I could carry, how flexible I was, how good my balance was.
I was slowly improving myself. Slowly, but surely. And thanks to my advanced regenerative powers, I could recover from strenuous exercise the very next day. Talk about a cheat code.
And then finally came my costume. It was similar to the classic costume, except instead of blue, I used black. I had to stitch on the webs for the costume. I cut up parts of the black spandex suit to sew into the red portion and create the patterns needed. I used parts of the bottom half of the red suit, not in use, to make gloves and leg coverings with a sole pad sewn into the bottom.
The suit was a two-piece. The top half was mainly red with black bits sewn into the sides and back. The bottom half was black with shin-high red feet coverings. I had to work on the mask a bit—make it less face-hugging, cutting out eye holes and putting in lenses from an old pair of glasses.
When I put the suit on and looked at myself in the mirror, I gasped. In complete honesty... it was shit. It looked pathetic. Like a child drew it on a piece of napkin. The stitches were wrong, the measurements were horrible.
I wasn't a master tailor. Overall, it had been a waste of time.
I threw the costume under a loose floorboard, a secret compartment where I stored sensitive items, like the rock containing the Hulk's blood.
I honestly didn't know what I should have expected. I didn't know how the original Peter would have made his costume, but I was shit with a thread and needle. I couldn't make my own costume. So for now, I'd just keep working on my web shooters.
Speaking of which, they were coming along great. I managed to fix up bracelet-like bands to use as my new shooters. The shooters themselves were the important part. I made a knob on the top that could be used to adjust the web pressure, thereby giving me different types of webbing. The process of making them itself was difficult, no doubt about that, but it was worth it.
***
It was the weekend again, and I found myself traveling to the Chikara Dojo by train. Usually I had the weekends off, but it seemed Colleen had other ideas. She told me to be ready for a more practical training exercise, whatever that meant.
As I walked toward the now familiar building, I noticed a few of my fellow students standing there waiting for something. I noticed one in particular—Marcus, a Black kid that I remembered seeing in the Iron Fist TV show. One day he was going to join the Hand, but for now, he was just a kid.
"Peter, over here," Marcus called out.
"Hey, Marcus," I nodded. "Hey, all." The others simply nodded to acknowledge my presence. "Does anyone know what this is all about?"
"Sensei didn't tell you?" asked a girl named Agatha, who we all called Agie.
I shrugged. "She just said it's going to be an interactive training session."
"Okay, so basically here's the deal—we're going to basically mug her," Marcus explained.
I blinked. "Crazy person say what now?"
The kids laughed as Marcus explained. Colleen was teaching them real-life skills, and apparently that included training kids to gang up and attack someone. They all thought it was just some basic stealth and teamwork-building exercise, but I knew the truth. It was training for when they became members of the Hand. They were being trained to assassinate people.
"So where is sensei?" I asked.
"Sensei Wing is hiding. She's somewhere in the city. It's our job to find her and get the jump on her. Basically, our job is to grab her blade and run away before she can catch us and get it back. We're supposed to find our way back here, and if we do that, we win!"
I could see it now. In the future, the mission wouldn't be hide-and-go-seek. It would be locate and terminate. And the running back to base would be running to an extraction point. Truly, the Hand were a sick group of people. Smart, but sick.
We waited for another hour for more people to show up before we split into groups. Usually it was up to you to find a group to travel with, but since I was still fairly new at this and inexperienced, I got to tag along with Marcus, a kid named Brandon, and Agie.
We four decided to check the surrounding areas for clues. Most of the other groups went in random directions, but Marcus decided to check her favorite hangout spots first. We ended up wasting an hour of our time. By that point, Colleen could have been in Harlem, Downtown, or even Queens for all we knew.
But then I got an idea. I asked myself: How would Batman do it? How would he track the Joker? And I got an answer.
I would think like him. So I did. I thought like Colleen. What was her objective? To train her students. So that meant she'd be close, maybe somewhere open and where a woman carrying a katana could be easily spotted. This would also remove the chance for her students to hide and get the jump on her.
So a park. Most likely Central Park. Not that far away from Chinatown, and she must have had so much free time she would have made it there easily. But where in Central Park? Where could she hide and yet fight given enough time? Where could she fight without having people try and stop them because they didn't realize this was training?
I opened my phone and pulled up a map. I searched and searched until I landed on the perfect spot.
"Guys," I got their attention. "I think I know where she is."
"What? How?" Agie asked, surprised.
I smiled. "Just a guess."
It took some time, but I convinced them to follow me. I brought them to the park, and we began looking around the southwest gate—the place with the least amount of people and the most wide-open space.
And in a few short minutes, we found her standing by a fountain, eating ice cream. We held back, hiding behind the trees, watching her. She didn't look at us. She didn't know we were here.
"Alright, here's the plan. Agie, you and Brandon distract her. Peter and I will sneak up and grab the blade. I'll run back to the dojo while the three of you hold her off. Got that?" Marcus ordered.
"No offense, man, but that's a stupid-ass plan," I snorted.
"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Was he trying to intimidate me? Really? Who the hell did he think he was? I'm Peter Parker!
"It's too open. She chose this place for a reason, Marc," I pointed. "A few people, not enough for us to hide behind. She'll spot them a mile away and us just as quick."
"What's your idea, then?"
"We wait. Wait for her to move, or make her move. Do something to distract her and the people around her to draw the attention away. And then we strike."
"Peter, no. That will never work. The moment we do that, she'll be on us," Brandon shook his head. "We go with Marc's plan."
"Yeah, I'm with Marc on this," Agie agreed.
I glared. "Then good luck doing it without me."
"Peter, this is supposed to be a team exercise!" Marcus hissed. "We need you with us!"
"No, it's a stupid plan, Marc, and it will not work. Listen to me. We have to distract her first before anything else!"
"No, Peter. We've been over this," the boy sighed. "Fine. If you don't want to come, you don't have to. Come on, guys. We can do this ourselves." The other two nodded as they got into position.
They looked so confident, so determined... I gave them five minutes.