As Peter was capturing images, lost in the moment, he suddenly stumbled, nearly dropping his camera. His wrist tingled strangely, and before he could comprehend what was happening, a a little thin strand of web shot out from it, attaching to the camera.
Peter's eyes widened in shock as he stared at his wrist. Panic surged through him like a bolt of lightning, but he swiftly pulled himself together. He glanced around anxiously, making sure no one had seen what just happened. Luckily, Harry was deep in conversation with some other people, completely unaware of Peter's strange experience.
Summoning all his courage to keep calm, Peter walked up to Harry, feeling his heart thumping nervously. "Harry, I suddenly remembered that Aunt May wants me to go home early as she needs some help." Peter said hastily, trying to hide his inner turmoil behind a calm demeanor.
Harry turned to him, a hint of surprise flashing across his face at the abrupt request. "Really?," he replied, his brows furrowing slightly with concern. "Are you sure everything's alright pete"
"Yeah, everything's fine." Peter assured him, forcing a reassuring smile. "Anyway thanks, Harry. I'll catch up with you later."
With a quick nod of farewell, Peter hurried away, his thoughts swirling with a mix of confusion and nerviousness
"I should call Michael." Peter murmured to himself, his mind racing with uncertainty. Quickly reaching for his Mcall device, he dialed Michael's number, the device buzzing softly as it connected.
"Michael, something feels wrong." Peter confessed, his voice laced with anxiety. Michael had always been like a big brother to him, someone he could turn to in times of need.
On the other end of the line, Michael's voice came through reassuringly. "Where are you, Pete?"
Peter hesitated for a moment before responding, "Can we meet at your house? I don't want to go home right now." he admitted, his tone laden with unease. "I need some time to figure out what's happening."
As Peter arrived at Michael's house, he hesitantly knocked on the door. To his surprise, the door swung open, revealing Michael Wilson on the other side.
"You're here, Peter." Michael greeted warmly, a hint of concern in his voice.
[Michael Wilson Side]
"Take a seat, Pete," I invited, motioning to the chair opposite mine. As Peter settled into the chair, his expression was fraught with worry, and I knew exactly why he had called me. Checking his status, I saw that he was now in the pre-awakening phase as Spider-Man.
Status
Name: Peter Parker
Nationality: American
Age: 15 years old
Phase: Pre awakening
Attributes:
Strength: 80
Agility: 70
Endurance: 72
Stamina: 60
Intelligence: 150
Reflexes: 70
Charisma: 15
Luck: 25
Skills:
Computer Literacy
Photography
Chemistry
Academic Achievement
First Aid
Wall-Crawling (Pre-Awakening)
Organic Web (Pre-Awakening)
Spider-Sense (Pre Awakening)
Enhanced Strength (Pre-Awakening)
Enhanced Reflexes (Pre-Awakening)
Background:
Peter Parker, a 15-year-old American high school student, found himself in Osborn Corporation as part of a school project. While wandering through the labs, he was bitten by a genetically modified spider that had escaped containment during a mishap.
"Where's Mary?" Peter inquired, curiosity evident in his voice.
"She's at work. You know she's a fashion designer, always busy with her creations." I told him, offering a small smile
"What about you? Aren't you supposed to be teaching at Midtown High right now?" Peter questioned further, his brow furrowing with worry.
I waved off his concern with a dismissive gesture. "Nah, you don't need to worry about that,"I reassured him, knowing that what Peter needed right now was my undivided attention. "Tell me what's been going on with you."
Peter hesitated for a moment, his words stumbling out hesitantly. "Um, it's kinda complicated," he admitted, his voice trailing off. Then, with a determined look in his eyes, he continued, "It's better if I show you."
Suddenly, Peter flicked his wrist, and a small amount of web shot out. My eyes widened in feigned shock as I watched the web shoot across the room. "Woah!" I exclaimed, pretending to be surprised by the display.
Peter looked at me with concern, his eyes searching for reassurance. "Weird, right?" he asked tentatively.
I offered him a reassuring smile before flicking my own wrist towards a water bottle sitting nearby. My web shot out and wrapped around the bottle before I effortlessly pulled it towards me, catching it mid-air. "Well, Not that weird," I replied with a grin.
Peter's stuttering voice betrayed his confusion. "H-h-h-how... ... i..t c..a..n.t be ... S-s-pider-Man? how? I thought he would be old."
Chuckling softly, I reached out a hand to calm him. "Take a deep breath, Pete. Calm down, okay? I'll tell you everything about me." I promised, knowing that it was time for Peter to learn the truth about my own identity and the secrets I had kept hidden for so long.
...
I leaned in, my expression somber as I began to recount my tale to Peter. "I was bitten by a radioactive spider, Pete," I started, my voice carrying the weight of years gone by. but it was a lie I come up with.
Peter's eyes widened in recognition. "I was also bitten by a spider back then when I took a picture in Osborn Labs," he interjected, his voice tinged with astonishment. "Remember, I had permission to take an absence because of the project competition."
"Yeah, I remember." I replied, acknowledging his words. But before I could delve deeper.
Peter's gaze shifted towards me, his arm gesturing in my direction as he stumbled over his thoughts. "Wait, so if you're the original Spider-Man, how... look at you," he stammered, his disbelief palpable. "Spider-Man appeared in 1947. So which means you're older than my Uncle Ben! Are you... are you immortal?"
I couldn't resist a soft chuckle at Peter's puzzled look. "Hey, take a deep breath, again," I said gently, extending a comforting hand. "I'll fill you in on everything about me, but let's break it down bit by bit."
...
.....
As Peter processed the flood of my origins as Michael Wilson, confusion etched deep lines on his forehead. "Wait, Chris Hilton, Emily Hawkins, Mary Rose, and Mark Fletcher? Not Taylor?" he stuttered, his voice laden with uncertainty. His eyes searched mine for answers, grappling with the sudden revelation.
Then Peter's face twisted in confusion "What about Sir Edward Wilson?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I thought he was your grandpa, and you took his son's name. That's what you told me."
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, knowing that the truth would only add to Peter's confusion. "It's... complicated," I admitted reluctantly, choosing my words carefully. "But for now, let's focus on the story. We'll circle back to that later, I promise."
Peter let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "Alright," he said, his voice carrying a hint of confusion.
But his curiosity stayed strong as he changed the subject, asking about another part of my past. "Can you tell me about how you beat that organization , 69?" he asked eagerly, his eyes shining with excitement. "I've seen it in history books and on the news. Was it in the early 1900s?"
A grin spread across my face at the memory, the thrill of victory still fresh in my mind. "Relax, Pete," I reassured him, eager to share my tale. "We've only just begun to delve into my history. Soon enough, I'll tell you all about how I brought down 69."
.....
As I continued my story, going into more detail about what happened during the school incident in 1947, Peter was completely engrossed. He listened intently, as if each word I spoke was pulling him into a different time and place. With every bit of information I shared, it felt like we were right there, experiencing those moments together.
Then Peter's tears fell, his sorrow echoed through the room, mingling with the weight of the memories I had just shared. "(Hick) Man, Teacher Dan, died as a hero trying to save everyone." he choked out between sobs, his voice thick with emotion.
Gently, I reached out and placed a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder, feeling the weight of his grief. "I know, Pete," I murmured softly, my own voice tinged with sadness. The memory of that tragic day weighed heavily on my heart, a constant reminder of the lives lost in the line of duty.
"I've often wondered that What if I could have done more, if I arrived sooner back then," I confessed, my gaze drifting to the floor.
Then After taking a deep breath, I looked at Peter, who had tears in his eyes, and I spoke with a serious tone. "But dwelling on the past won't change what happened. All we can do is honor their memory and strive to make things better in the present."
"Now, let's continue my story," I said, my voice steady despite the lingering sorrow. "There's still much to tell."
.....
....
As I recounted my encounter with Thomas Halloway, the original Angel vigilante, Peter's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of curiosity and fascination. "You met the original Angel? The one who fought in World War II and saved countless lives?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
I nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Yes, that's right," I replied, my tone tinged with nostalgia. "He was more than just a mentor to me. He taught me valuable lessons about courage, sacrifice, and the true meaning of heroism."
Peter's eyes sparkled with admiration as he absorbed my words, his curiosity piqued by the mysteries of my past. "I wish I could have lived in your era," he mused, a hint of longing in his voice. "But I still don't get How did you became Spider-Man, especially if your dad is really Edward Wilson."
I chuckled softly, a wistful smile playing on my lips. "We're still a long way from the end of my story, Pete," I replied, my gaze drifting to the window as memories of the past flooded my mind. "But I promise, all your questions will be answered in time. For now, let's focus on the journey ahead."
...
...
As I recounted the confrontation with Jord, Peter listened intently, his brow furrowed in contemplation. He seemed to grasp the complexity of Jord's motives, acknowledging the pain and conviction behind his actions. Yet, despite his understanding, Peter still couldn't wrap his head around why violence was the answer.
"I understand him," Peter admitted, his voice tinged with empathy, "but why, Michael? Why resort to violence?"
His question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of moral uncertainty. I met his gaze, sadness clouding my eyes as I shared his concern. "Yeah, Pete, that's exactly what I told him," I confessed, a sense of resignation creeping into my tone. "But sometimes, people are so consumed by their beliefs that they can't see another way."
.....
...
[As I told him how I fought and killed jord]
Peter's expression softened with compassion as he absorbed the news of Jord's demise. "I feel sorry for him," he remarked, his voice filled with genuine sympathy. "He was just a man caught in a war he couldn't escape."
Peter's words brought a sadness to my heart, reminding me of the pain caused by the war. "Yeah, I know." I replied, my voice carrying a comforting tone as I gently patted his back. Despite the sadness of those times, it felt good to know that we both understood and cared about each other.
I took a breath and kept talking, telling Peter about all the tough times I faced as Spider-Man. Each story made us feel closer, like we understood each other better.
....
....
As we delved into the incident involving Loe Halloway, Peter's curiosity sparked once again. His sharp mind quickly connected the dots, and he couldn't contain his excitement as he realized the significance of the figure involved.
"Wait, wait, Loe Halloway, Is it him?" Peter interrupted, his eyes widening with recognition.
I nodded, confirming his suspicions. "Yes, it's the director of S.H.I.E.L.D." I replied, a hint of amusement dancing in my eyes.
Peter's reaction was immediate. "Wow! So he was kind of a baddie when he was younger?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and intrigue.
Chuckling at his enthusiasm, I nodded in agreement. "Yeah," I confirmed, a smile playing at the corners of my lips. "I'm surprised you didn't question his age."
Peter quickly responded, showing off his grasp of recent events. "Well, you see, Director Loe and the Hilton company mentioned in the news that they did some anti-aging experiment. That's why Director Loe stayed young," he clarified, sounding pretty sure of himself. "Lots of people wanted it too. It caused a lot of fuss in the 90s. So, Director Loe said he scrapped the experiment to calm everyone down."
Listening to Peter's explanation, I couldn't help but nod in understanding. "Well, you know, everybody wants to stay young, so I kind of understand why they're greedy," I mused, understanding the desire for eternal youth.
Peter's curiosity then turned towards me, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Wait, are you going through experiments or something? That's why you're still young, but you disappeared in 1952, so that doesn't make sense." he speculated, his thoughts spinning with possibilities.
Unable to contain my amusement, I chuckled softly at his speculation. "Relax, Pete. I promised I'd tell you everything about me. But we're not there yet." I assured him, confident that the truth would emerge in due time.
...
...
As I told Peter about what happened in the Slum Incident, the memories came rushing back, clear as day. I described how chaotic it was in the slums, with people screaming for help and danger lurking around every corner. It was like a nightmare, but through it all, there was a sense of determination in me to make things right, to bring justice to those who had been wronged.
feeling saddened by the tragedy, Peter's eyes held a spark of sadness. "Tha— that's horrible, man. Those innocent people died." he stammered, struggling to find the right words to express his emotions.
"I know, Pete," I replied softly, reaching out to offer him a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. "It's tough, knowing innocent people suffered. But it's also what drives us to keep fighting, to stop that from happening again, to protect those who can't protect themselves."
.....
....
With a heavy heart, I continued my tale, recounting the motives behind Dart Pleshkov's heinous acts. Peter listened intently, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he processed the information.
"So Dart wants revenge against the government too, same as Jord," Peter remarked with a heavy sigh. "I get their story, but I still think it's not right to do those things."
I nodded in agreement, acknowledging the complexity of the situation. "Revenge can be a powerful motivator, Pete," I admitted, my voice tinged with regret. "But it blinds you to everything else. It consumes you, It pushes you to do things you'd never imagine doing.
As Peter mulled over my words, a realization seemed to dawn on him. "Wait, I think the motive of the 69 organization is to bring the government down." he ventured, his eyes alight with newfound understanding.
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I nodded in affirmation. "You're right about that, Pete," I confirmed, my mind drifting back to a time when corruption was widespread in government. "The government back then... well, let's just say they weren't exactly saints. The 69 organization saw themselves as Avenger, they avenge their people who died because of the government "
"But," I added with a serious look, "they got it all wrong. They were after power, not justice. And sadly, it was innocent people who suffered because of it."
As the weight of our conversation settled over us, I took a moment to collect my thoughts. "Now, let's continue my story," I said, my voice steady with resolve. "There's still much to be told, and I want you to understand everything, Pete."
....
As I started talking about vampires being a real part of my life story, Peter's reaction was pretty clear—he couldn't believe it. His eyes got wide, showing just how shocked he was. It was like he couldn't wrap his head around it.
"Wait, vampires are real?" Peter exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and disbelief.
I couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction, understanding the enormity of the revelation. "Yep, vampires are real, Pete," I confirmed, meeting his gaze with a knowing smile. "And not just vampires. Mutants, supernatural beings... you name it. The world is a lot stranger than we think."
Peter's mind was racing as he pieced together the puzzle. "Yeah I know about mutants, and now that I think about it, the Howling Commandos in the past fought and beat a vampire." he reflected, wonder evident in his tone.
"Exactly," I affirmed, nodding in agreement.
....
As I continued my story, describing the intense battle with the queen vampires, Peter's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and curiosity. It was like he was trying to figure out a complicated puzzle in his head, understanding each piece as I laid it out for him.
"What, so you fought a queen vampire?" Peter interjected, his voice tinged with disbelief. "And then there's a magician or a sorcerer who swoops in to save her, and they just vanish into thin air?"
I nodded, a wry smile playing at the corners of my lips. "Yep, it's pretty complicated, all right." I confirmed, knowing full well the convoluted nature of the events I was describing.
Peter let out a low whistle, his brow furrowing as he attempted to process the fantastical tale I told him. "Yeah, don't even get me started." he muttered, his analytical mind working overtime to make sense of the seemingly impossible. It was clear that he was grappling with the sheer magnitude of the extraordinary events I was recounting.
...
Peter's grin widened as I recounted the Mary Rose Incident, his eyes sparkling with amusement finding the romantic parts of the story really interesting.
"Thats romantic," he quipped, a playful tone lacing his words. "You saved her like a hero saving a princess. Now I get why Sister Mary really likes you and loves you so much."
Peter's teasing made me blush, and I started feeling a bit embarrassed under his playful gaze. "You're making me feel shy, Pete." I laughed nervously, trying to shift the focus away from my flushed face.
Peter couldn't resist a playful jab. "You're something else, huh?" he quipped, his tone light and teasing. "First, it's Mark, Now, you've got Mary and Sir Edward on board? It's like you're handing out secret identities like candy at Halloween!"
I laughed awkwardly, attempting to brush off the attention. "Well, I can't argue with that," I admitted, acknowledging the truth in his words. "Anyway, let's get back to the story before I turn any redder."
We laughed together, then got back on track with the story. Putting aside my little embarrassment, we dove back into my past adventures, unraveling my past one by one
.....
As I recounted the tragic tale of Atlas and the 69 organization, Peter's eyes widened with a mixture of shock and empathy. The realization of the sorcerer's pain and his quest for vengeance weighed heavily on both of us.
"So the government was afraid of the sorcerer," Peter mused, connecting the dots of history. "That's why they nuked the village of Atlas during the 1800s."
I nodded solemnly. "Yes, exactly. It was a dark chapter in our history, one fueled by fear and misunderstanding."
Peter's voice was filled with genuine sorrow. "That's tragic," he remarked, his empathy shining through. "If I were him, I don't know what I would do. Maybe I would become just like him."
My heart went out to Peter as he grappled with the weight of Atlas's burden. With a gentle smile, I reassured him, "You're stronger than you realize, Pete. You have a good heart, and that's what sets you apart."
Peter returned my smile, his determination shining through. "Then I count on you to show me the way." he said earnestly.
With a nod of affirmation, I placed a hand on his shoulder. "You can count on me, Pete."
.....
As I got closer to finishing my story, describing how Mary and Mark died in the New York war and the consequences about my powers, and describing how my mother passed away and what unfolded afterward. Even though our talk was heavy, it felt good to finally share everything with Peter, letting him understand the reasons behind my circumstances.
Then Suddenly Peter got really emotional. Tears filled his eyes as he tried to understand what I was telling him. He couldn't quite find the right words to express how he felt.
"M—M-men, if I w-were... y-you, I don't know what to do." Peter stuttered, his voice trembling with emotion.
Understanding the sentiment behind his words, I reached out to reassure him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I get it, Pete. I know what you're trying to say," I replied gently, meeting his gaze with empathy. "You're really a kind kid."
Peter nodded solemnly, his expression a mix of gratitude and sorrow. "Mike, thank you for telling me your stories," he said, his voice choked with emotion. Tears shimmered in his eyes as he added, "I'm sorry for your loss and everything."
"Don't worry, Pete," I said, giving him a reassuring smile. "You're all here with me, and that's what matters most. It gives me the strength to keep moving forward."
As I recounted my stories to Pete, I realized how deep our bond was; it felt like we were real brothers. And It was clear: whatever came our way, we'd tackle it together, as pals.
And with that, I decided it was time to take action. Today, I would begin training Peter in the ways of becoming a Spider-Man.
To be continue