The atmosphere in the grand dining hall of the Kiramman estate had shifted from its usual, polished elegance to something thick enough to cut with a dinner knife.
"Before you head to that meeting... I have something to show you all," Kyle said, his voice grounded and entirely serious.
Hearing the heavy, uncharacteristic tone, all three members of the Kiramman family exchanged quick, uneasy glances.
A silent realization passed between them: if Kyle was acting like this, something was drastically, terribly wrong.
"Kyle? What did you do?" Caitlyn asked, genuine worry lacing her voice.
She was used to her brother's lighthearted banter, his subtle sarcasm, and his easygoing nature.
She wasn't used to seeing him look like he was carrying the weight of Piltover on his shoulders.
Heck, no one in the family was used to it—and that sudden departure from normalcy made the air in the room feel uncomfortably cold.
After making sure everyone was firmly seated, Kyle stepped away from his chair and began a deliberate, methodical sweep of the dining room.
He checked the dark corners, checked the latch on every heavy wooden door, and tapped against the reinforced walls to ensure the room's soundproofing was fully engaged.
He checked behind framed portraits and beneath marble busts, searching for listening devices or subtle surveillance hextech.
You never knew when you might get in trouble for being too complacent.
CONSTANT VIGILANCE!
A certain scarred, one-eyed wizard would have shed a proud tear.
And so would a certain brooding billionaire who dressed like a bat and listed "unfathomable wealth" as his primary superpower.
"Kyle, what in the world are you doing?" Tobias asked, a tremor of nervousness creeping into his usually calm, refined voice.
"Making sure what I am about to tell you doesn't leave this room until I allow it," Kyle replied smoothly, not pausing his inspection as he checked the underside of a mahogany sideboard.
"Kyle, I do not have time for this nonsense," Cassandra snapped, though her composure was visibly fracturing.
She looked like a teapot on the verge of whistling from the sheer build-up of tension.
"Just get to the point and be done with it. The Council meeting starts in less than an hour."
"Just a minute, Mother dearest," Kyle chimed back effortlessly, completely unphased as he finished inspecting the final corner.
Cassandra rolled her eyes, letting out a sharp, exasperated sigh.
Yet, despite her protest, she didn't budge from her seat.
Curiosity—and a growing sense of dread—kept her anchored.
"Wait a damn minute," Caitlyn interjected, her eyes widening as her mind raced through every conceivable disaster scenario. "You didn't get someone pregnant, did you?"
Tobias froze mid-breath.
Cassandra stiffened instantly, her sharp eyes darting toward her son, burning with an intense, non-negotiable demand for answers.
The unspoken command practically echoed off the walls: Is it true? Explain this instant.
Kyle paused, slowly rolling his eyes into the back of his head. "I did not get anyone pregnant. I am still very much a virgin."
At least in this life, he added silently to himself, though he certainly hoped to revoke that status whenever the universe decided to stop throwing chaos his way.
Upon hearing those words, Tobias let out a long, heavy sigh, resting a hand over his heart, while Cassandra visibly lowered her defenses.
Caitlyn, on the other hand, clicked her tongue in dramatic disappointment. "Ah, shame. I wouldn't have minded a little bit of family drama. Maybe a tiny niece or nephew to break up the boredom."
All three of them turned their heads in unison, staring at Caitlyn with expressions that openly questioned her sanity.
Caitlyn simply rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and settled into a cute, defensive pout.
With the perimeter secured, Kyle walked back toward the center of the room.
He didn't sit down. Instead, he stopped right in front of the table and loudly cleared his throat.
"Ahem! KHUM, KHUEM!"
"Okay, listen up," Kyle began, scanning their expectant faces. "What I am about to show you is... well, let's just say it's going to fundamentally alter everything about this family. Your lives, my life, maybe even the entire city's future. Who knows? The point is, grip your seats strongly."
The three Kirammans exchanged one final, deeply uneasy look.
They were not liking the trajectory of this conversation one bit.
Without another word, Kyle kicked off his shoes.
He looked up toward the vaulted, exquisitely carved ceiling of the high-ceilinged dining hall.
Here goes nothing, he thought.
Kyle crouched down low—and then he launched himself upward.
It wasn't a standard, athletic leap.
Powered by dense, superhuman muscular strength, he shot toward the rafters like a cannonball.
The air cracked a bit with the force of his liftoff.
Before anyone could scream, his feet made contact with the painted ceiling high above.
And he didn't fall back down.
He stuck to it seamlessly.
Like a goddamn spider.
For a second, Kyle kept his eyes shut, letting his sticky foothold settle against the grand architecture.
He took a slow breath, opened his eyes, and casually stood upright—hanging completely upside down, suspended thirty feet in the air by nothing more than the soles of his bare feet.
Standing upside down on the ceiling, he turned his head to look down at his family.
Below him, the sight was nothing short of legendary.
Jaws had dropped so far they practically rested on the dining table.
Eyes were bulging out of skulls in sheer, unadulterated shock.
The contrast between their aristocratic posture and their slack-jawed, horrified expressions was so cartoonish it crossed the line right back into terrifying.
"Ta-Dah," Kyle offered awkwardly, giving them a tiny, upside-down wave.
Silence descended upon the room.
It was a heavy, suffocating silence—the kind that makes seconds feel like agonizing centuries.
Nobody blinked.
Nobody breathed.
Cassandra looked as though her brain had completely stalled trying to reconcile physics with reality, Tobias was gripping his armrests so hard his knuckles turned ghost-white, and Caitlyn just stared, her mouth slightly open, completely utterly speechless.
Seeing that no one was going to break the silence, Kyle let out a quiet sigh.
He released his magnetic cling and dropped back down to the hardwood floor, landing with a soft, practiced thud that barely made a sound.
Standing tall once more, he flicked his right wrist toward the dining table.
With a sharp thwip, a thin strand of synthetic webbing shot from his wrist, attached firmly to a half-full glass of orange juice, and snapped it cleanly back into his open palm.
The sharp sound finally broke the Kirammans out of their paralyzed stupor.
Their eyes snapped from the empty space on the table to the glowing strand of web, and finally back to Kyle.
Really, really looked at him.
Kyle raised the glass to his lips and drained the juice in a few calm, steady gulps.
The practical act proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was no Hextech illusion, no draft-induced hallucination, and no elaborate prank.
This was horrifyingly, undeniably real.
Kyle set the empty glass back down on a side table with a soft clink.
He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, looked at the stunned audience before him, and offered a soft, almost innocent smile, tilting his head just enough to look harmless.
"So, yeah... I'm Spider-Man."