As Miles struggled against the webbing that bound him to the chair, he heard a knock at his bedroom door. The familiar voice of his father, Jefferson Morales, called out gently, "Miles."

[Miles froze, uncertainty and apprehension flooding his thoughts. He didn't expect his father to be here, not now. He remained silent, hoping perhaps his father would leave.]

Jefferson Morales stood outside Miles' closed door, his voice filled with a mix of concern and longing as he tried to connect with his son.

Jefferson persisted, his tone becoming more urgent yet still gentle, "Miles, it's your dad."

The knocks continued, each one like a heavy thud on Miles' heart. "Please open the door," Jefferson pleaded softly. "I can see your shadow movin' around."

[Miles struggled against the webbing, frustration mounting. He couldn't face his father now, not after everything that had happened. He stayed silent, hoping his father would understand his need for space.]

Realizing Miles wasn't ready to let him in, Jefferson resigned himself to speaking through the closed door.

"Look, can we talk for a minute?" Jefferson asked, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

[Miles clenched his fists, his emotions is like turbulent whirlpool inside him. He knew he couldn't keep ignoring his father forever, but the timing felt all wrong.]

After a moment of hesitation, Jefferson gathered himself to say what weighed heavily on his heart. "Something... something happened to..."

He paused again, finding it difficult to articulate his thoughts. "Look, sometimes people drift apart, Miles."

Jefferson took a deep breath, his words now tinged with regret. "And I don't want that to happen to us, okay?"

He glanced down, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "I know I don't always do what you need me to do or say what you need me to say."

Jefferson's gaze returned to the door, his voice filled with a mixture of admiration and sadness. "I see this spark in you. It's amazing. It's why I push you."

[Miles felt a lump in his throat, overwhelmed by his father's words. He wanted to believe them, to believe in himself as his father did.]

He sighed, his words heavy with emotion. "But... it's yours. Whatever you choose to do with it, you'll be great."

[Miles remained in silence, tears streaming down his cheeks as he wrestled with his doubts and fears. Deep down, he knew that he can do it, that he can be Spider-Man it's just that he was just afraid to be one.]

Jefferson looked outside, his expression a blend of sadness and warmth. "Look, call me when you can. Okay?"

With a final heartfelt declaration, Jefferson added, "I love you." He paused, knowing Miles might not respond in kind. "You don't have to say it back, though."

With that, Jefferson turned away from the door, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he left Miles to his thoughts and struggles.

.....

Inside the room, after listening silently to his father's heartfelt words, Miles's heart filled with resolve. He was still tied up in the chair, but he knew he couldn't ignore his responsibilities any longer. His determination grew stronger, and he focused all his energy.

Suddenly, he felt a surge of power within him. (ELECTRICITY CRACKLING) With a burst of energy, he unleashed his venom blast, breaking free from the webbing that bound him. Miles looked at his hands in disbelief, amazed at what he had just done.

His eyes filled with resolve, and he thought to himself, "Wait for me, guys!"

He wasted no time and headed straight to Aunt May's house. He knew where he needed to go next—the basement where Aunt May kept the Spider-Man suits. As he approached the basement, he saw Aunt May standing there, waiting for him.

Aunt May greeted him with a knowing smile, "Took you long enough."

♪ 200 miles per hour

With a blindfold on ♪

♪ What's up, danger? ♪

♪ Ah, what's up, danger? ♪

Miles looked at Aunt May with determination in his eyes and said, "I'm ready!"

Aunt May nodded approvingly. "Take a look at each suit. Maybe you'll find your own Spider-Man suit."

Miles quickly moved to where the suits were displayed. His eyes scanned the various suits until they landed on one—the teenage Peter Parker suit. It called out to him, representing everything he wanted to become. Without hesitation, he picked it up.

"I choose this," Miles declared with confidence.

Aunt May raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure?"

Miles nodded firmly, "I am."

Seeing the resolve in his eyes, Aunt May handed the suit to Miles. He took it, feeling the weight of responsibility and destiny in his hands. With newfound determination, he grabbed a spray can and began customizing the suit, making it his own. The red and blue transformed into black, symbolizing his unique identity and journey as Spider-Man.

As he finished, he looked at his reflection, his eyes burning with resolve and readiness. This was his suit, his symbol of hope and strength.

As Miles donned his newly customized suit, he felt a surge of confidence and purpose. Stepping out into the night, he prepared to swing through the city, embracing his identity as Spider-Man. With each step, memories of those who believed in him played in his mind, fueling his determination.

He remembered the words of his mentor, Michael Wilson:

"We can't change our mistakes in the past. But what we can do is learn from them and strive not to repeat them. That's what we do. That's what makes us Spider-Man. That's why we take on this mantle, this hero thing, because we're the ones who can bear it."

His father's heartfelt message echoed in his mind:

"I see this spark in you. It's amazing. Whatever you choose to do with it, you'll be great."

His mother's reassuring words resonated within him:

"Our family doesn't run from things."

He heard his Uncle Aaron's voice, filled with pride and love:

"You're the best of all of us, Miles. You're on your way. Just keep going."

And finally, he recalled the pivotal conversation with Peter B. Parker his other mentor:

"When do I know I'm Spider-Man?"

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Peter B had responded, "You won't. That's all it is, Miles—a leap of faith."

With these words echoing in his mind, Miles's eyes filled with determination. He leaped off the rooftop, swinging through the city with grace and agility. He executed acrobatic flips and twists mid-air, his movements fluid and confident. Each swing, each maneuver, was a testament to his growth and readiness.

♪ Like, what's up, danger? ♪

♪ Like, what's up, danger? ♪

♪ Like, what's up, danger? ♪

♪ Like, what's up, danger? ♪

♪ Can't stop me now ♪

♪ Traveled 200 miles ♪

♪ I'm knockin' at your door

And I don't really care ♪

♪ If you ain't done wrong ♪

♪ I said I got you now ♪

♪ Come on, what's up, danger? ♪

♪ Don't be a stranger ♪

♪ I'm right here at your door ♪

♪ I won't leave, I want more ♪

♪ What's up, danger? ♪

♪ Yeah, what's up, danger? ♪

♪ Can't stop me now ♪

♪ 'Cause I like high G's

Sister, I might lose ♪

♪I like it all on the edge

Just like you, hey ♪

♪ I like tall buildings

So I can leap off of 'em ♪

♪ I go hard with it

No matter how dark it is ♪

♪ Come on, what's up, danger? ♪

Miles exclaimed, "Whoahoh!!" as he swung through the city, his excitement and newfound confidence evident in his voice.

With that Miles Morales was no longer just a kid trying to find his place. He was now officially Spider-Man, ready to protect his city and embrace the responsibilities that came with his newfound powers. The city skyline blurred past him as he soared, a symbol of hope and courage, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

....

[Meanwhile Michael Pov]

As we stood atop Fisk Tower, we surveyed the scene below. I remember this scene from the movie it was the extravagant gala held by Wilson Fisk in honor of Spider-Man was in full swing. In the movie the guests were mingling and waitstaff bustling around, all dressed in Spider-Man-themed attire. The irony of it all made me smirk, but I knew I had to focus in this mission.

Peni explained, "Kingpin has a private elevator entrance from his penthouse to the collider below."

Spider-Man Noir added, "Didn't count on having an audience..."

I chuckled, "Let's go."

We descended from the rooftop to infiltrate the event. As we made our way down, the others were taken aback by the sheer audacity of Fisk's display.

"YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME," they exclaimed in unison.

I muttered under my breath, "Crazy bastard."

Inside, Fisk was addressing the crowd with a facade of sorrow. "Thank you. It's nice to be with you this evening to celebrate Spider-Man. He and I were very close..." His pretense of grief was sickening.

Spider-Gwen muttered, "What a pig."

Peter Porker quipped, "I'm right here."

Spider-Man Noir, observing the waitstaff dressed in Spider-Man masks, commented, "Hold on. Get a load of how the waiters are dressed. It's in poor taste, but... It can't be that easy."

I saw an opportunity and said, "Let's go. We're going to infiltrate. As Noir said, they're wearing Spider-Man costumes, so we can blend in easily."

Everyone nodded, except Noir, who protested, "Did you even hear what I said? It can't be that easy!"

Despite his reservations, we entered Fisk Tower, blending in seamlessly with the waitstaff. As expected, no one paid us any mind, mistaking us for part of the event staff.

Spider-Man Noir muttered, "It's that easy."

As we continued our infiltration, we positioned ourselves strategically. Peni Parker was at the bottom hiding on one of the tables, As we pretending to be a waiter taking it to the kitchen. While Peter Porker, aka Spider-Ham, was hidden inside a serving dish, ready to spring into action if needed.

Kingpin, standing in front of the crowd, announced, "I just wanna thank Mary Jane Parker for being here this evening."

Peter B. Parker's eyes widened in recognition. "MJ," he whispered.

I quickly intervened, "Pay attention. It's not your MJ, Pete, okay?"

But Peter B. was already distracted. "I'm sorry, I'll be right back," he said, starting to walk away.

"Peter! Come here. Trust me." I grabbed his arm, stopping him. "I've been there. You gotta move on, buddy."

Peter B. hesitated, then said, "It will take one second. Let me just..." Before he could finish, Mary Jane herself appeared in front of us.

She didn't recognize Peter B. and said, "Hello."

Peter B. was momentarily stunned. "Oh, wow."

Mary Jane smiled politely. "Um... I just wondered if we could have some more bread at table 12."

"Yeah, So-sorry" Peter B. responded, a bit flustered.

Mary Jane gave him a puzzled look. "Don't be sorry. It's just bread."

Peter B. was lost in his thoughts. "I wasn't there for you when you needed me."

Mary Jane, clearly confused, responded with a polite, "Mhmm?"

Spider-Gwen facepalmed, clearly embarrassed by Peter B.'s behavior. I did the same, while Spider-Man Noir just shook his head in disbelief.

Peter B. continued, "I didn't even try."

Mary Jane felt increasingly uncomfortable. "That's fine. You know, I should really get going."

Peter B. tried to salvage the situation, "I know I could do better, if I just had another chance," he paused and then awkwardly added, "Um... to give you the bread that you deserve."

Mary Jane, now completely weirded out, walked away. "Weird guy," she muttered under her breath.

Peter B. sighed deeply as he watched her leave.

I placed a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Are you okay?"

Peter B. looked at me, a mixture of sadness and acceptance in his eyes. "Yeah, I just... needed that moment, I guess."

I nodded, understanding the weight of his emotions. "Let's stay focused. We have a mission to complete."

With renewed determination, we continued our infiltration, knowing that the real challenge was just ahead. We had to stop Kingpin and ensure the safety of all our universes.

To be continue