The late afternoon sunlight shone over his face the moment he stepped outside. The mysterious blues of his eyes twinkled like starry gems when they reflected the light.

Joe looked at the sky, his eyes unflinching in the face of the sun's radiance. The dark gray clouds were scattered, partly obscuring the sun's brilliance. His face bloomed into a rare smile as the spring breeze brushed against him.

'It's a good day to be alive. I can't believe I get to enjoy such simple things in life in such a cruel, unforgiving universe.' Joe sighed deeply, his peripheral vision surveilling everything around him.

The coast was clear for now. He would probably be delayed if he wasted time on the university grounds enjoying the scenery.

"Well, I guess it's hero time," Joe mused, glancing at his oh-so-simple watch. There was nothing extraordinary about it. It was just an ol' plain-looking wristwatch. And don't be deluded, it wasn't the Omnitrix in disguise. That would have been cool and so fucking dope.

Joe knew the Omnitrix alone would have effortlessly pushed him into the universal-tier list undebated. With a celestialsapien capable of pulling a Chrollo pose, reality might as well be his bitch. Just imagine being the genie with unlimited wishes.

'That's out of topic. I'll have to make do with what I have. That fantasy is out of reach… temporarily.'

"I guess it's Translucent time," Joe smirked, tapping the watch's screen before pressing the side button. Immediately, the watch began restructuring. Small nanoparticles spread over his form, causing the fabric of his clothes to turn invisible. Soon, his whole body disappeared from the visible spectrum.

The watch was something he had created in his spare time during those past months. Joe's source of inspiration had been the cloaking tech used by the Wakandans and a simple dismantling session of the Predator Killer armguard. It was a compressed suit among a few that he had in his arsenal. Joe dubbed it the 'Spectral Shade.' And in no way was he referencing the movie, Spectre, or the embodiment of the Presence's wrath. He had resisted calling it 'The Spectre'.

'Using pym particles in these types of situations is an overkill.' Joe mused as he started his journey to Forest Hills.

'You think I'm crazy, right? You're not exactly wrong. I'm going to run.' Joe looked to the side, his invisible ass addressing no one in particular.

He assumed a sprinting stance, and then—boom—he catapulted into another realm: the domain of speedsters. The starting ground caved in under the impact of his instantaneous speed burst, leaving a small-sized crater. Thank the gods, he controlled himself. However, the sonic boom couldn't be easily mitigated. It rendered everyone in the campus vicinity deaf for a moment.

Moments later, as the stunned onlookers struggled to regain their hearing, a fighter jet thundered above New York, its roar eerily synchronized with Joe's departure. The coincidence was lost on the crowd, but it was a fitting accompaniment to his explosive exit.

Meanwhile, the world around him seemed to freeze, with every action crawling at a painfully slow pace.

'I can't stop. I can't stop. Woo!' Joe screamed in his mind, reveling in the exhilarating rush of speed. In that fleeting moment, nothing else mattered—not the sprawling campus around him, nor the lingering worries of daily life—just the pure, intoxicating thrill of velocity.

Speed was all that mattered. He was… speed!

'Makkari, hold my beer,' Joe thought, casually coming up with the joke of the year.

He knew damn well he was a child in the speed department.

Anyway, the city will never know of the invisible speedster.

Not even a blur.

***

Five Seconds Later.

Forest Hills.

SHWAAH!

Wind whipped around Joe as he stopped in front of the warehouse.

He looked at his feet, feeling the illusory frictional heat warming his soles. It would have been funny if he had his shoes and clothes erased by the friction and pressure bombardment.

'Should I play with him a little bit?' Joe mischievously grinned, imagining how Peter would react to an unseen entity.

'Bro better be ready for some Amityville shenanigans.'

Joe realized that being invisible was more of a gimmick at this point. He could still move fast enough to avoid being seen by the average person. However, it was safer to err on the side of caution. This world was teeming with hidden superhumans, even if they were a minority. While he couldn't exactly pinpoint where they were located, one thing was certain: they were everywhere. Beyond the superhumans, cameras could also unintentionally capture supernatural events.

Before the events of the Chitauri Invasion happen, Joe will dutifully continue practicing the art of restraint.

It wasn't the time to show off. He wasn't Tony who could make it seem so effortless. The man was a legend. And even if he wanted the universe to know his existence, it wouldn't be under his real identity. Joe Petersen would remain the ambitious, innovative young genius.

'I haven't even thought about my codename. Damn, that's the problem with getting powers,' Joe mused. 'Still, if I want to protect my interests, I'll need to get involved one way or another. Joe Petersen has to become influential — rich enough to rival nations. Let's aim for the net worth of Wakanda.'

Shaking the ambitious thoughts from his mind, Joe stepped into the warehouse.

Being the owner of the warehouse, Joe knew every path inside. It was like a rather tamed maze, modeled by him. Anyone with a pretty sharp memory could navigate the labyrinth with less difficulty.

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Joe easily found Peter in the integrated research laboratory that hosted both virology and immunology tests.

The familiar smell of the chemicals like formalin assaulted his nose. The soft whirring of the sophisticated laboratory machines filled his ears with nostalgia.

It has been a while since he stepped into this particular warehouse.

Joe spotted the young man slouched in the office chair, his head tilted back as he snored loudly. A string of saliva dangled from the corner of his lips.

Amidst a cluttered workbench with revolting Petri dishes, and half-filled test tubes of different colors, Peter didn't seem to worry about the world as he peacefully dozed off.

Joe arched his brows, amazed by his capability to coexist with the concentrated sterile stench in the air.

While it didn't affect him since he was currently 'biologically superior', it still reminded him of that day he spent traumatized in a hospital.

'Ah, memories... Now it's just me, myself and I, not the hospital anymore. I'm immune to diseases. Now then...' Joe lowered his head, an evil smirk radiating from his face.

'What should I do with you? Of course, since you're my bro, a 'harmless prank' will do.'

Joe grabbed a random test tube rack filled with empty tubes and gave it a vigorous shake.

CLANK!

CLANK!

The sound of glass cracking while hitting each other, jolted Peter fully awake, nearly making him fall off his seat. If it were not for his spidey reflexes, his whole body might have kissed the damp floor.

There was a confused expression on his face that lasted for a few seconds before his unsettled eyes randomly scanned around.

Failing to see anything out of place, Peter comically widened his eyes to wade off the lingering sleep.

He then loudly yawned. "Okay, that was weird. Did those test tubes just... move? Or am I finally losing it?"

"Um, it must have been an auditory hallucination maybe." He shrugged off the matter, attributing it to his sleep-deprived status.

That's what he thought. However, the next thing he heard was the same clanking of the glass tubes.

Peter felt a chill run down his spine and almost jumped out of his seat. He was a science guy and never believed in ghosts except for Ghostbusters.

'Am I... in the middle of a paranormal event? Or is my mind playing tricks with me?'

Suddenly, evil, childlike giggles echoed from the speakers, filling the room with an unnatural chill. Peter's heart pounded violently in his chest as cold sweat trickled down his spine. His breath hitched, and a cold, creeping dread took hold, causing every hair on his body to stand on end.

'I'm a science nerd, but what kind of Sith sorcery is this? Is the Dark Side at play?' he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, as a marker pen, seemingly possessed, scratched against the whiteboard in erratic, frantic strokes.

Peter immediately showed a defensive stance. He remembered he was Spider-Man. Well, he forgot that fact for a second.

"Show yourself, poltergeist—if that's what you are. You should know that my great-grandpa was an exorcist. So, yeah, you're messing with the wrong nerd!" Peter nervously said, trying to keep calm as he eyed the exit.

However, his hope was shattered the moment he heard the whole warehouse went into lockdown. Red alarm lights constantly blinked in the lab, not helping him in his situation at all.

"Poor Peter Parker!" A horrifying gut-wrenching screech suddenly sounded near his ears. Like a cat, Peter reactively jumped and stuck on the wall with his sticky fingers.

"Poor Peter Parker!" The voice echoed all over the place, following him everywhere.

Peter gritted his teeth. The most terrifying things are the unseen—phenomena that couldn't be explained by conventional science.

'I want to think that some guy in an invisibility cloak with a grudge against me is the one I'm against... My spidey sense can't pick up anything, damnit.'

'I'm aware I can't punch a ghost.' His eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for any sign of movement, any clue that might help him make sense of the surreal situation.

It was then that Joe decided he had had enough of tormenting the terrified spider. His childish antics could leave Peter scarred for life. That wasn't good, but… it was fun.

Joe deactivated the sound cancellers and walked until he was near Peter. His steps were suspenseful and eerie, causing Peter to shoot webs at a nonexistent enemy.

Joe casually sidestepped the sticky webs.

He restrained himself from touching him. God knows how his spidey sense operated at insane levels. The guy could still move even after being 'benimaru'd' into astral projection.

"Boo, do you have my cure?" Joe subtly chuckled in amusement as his body became visible. Peter instantly leaped to the ceiling, far away from Joe.

"Joe? Wait—are you a ghost? Did something happen? You didn't... die, did you, man?" Peter tentatively asked, his doubtful eyes narrowed.

"Yo, bro. How—" Joe began, but Peter jumped around him, simultaneously shooting several webs.

'Aren't you the cautious one, Pete?' Joe clicked his tongue in mild amusement as webs enveloped him in rapid succession. In moments, his entire body was tightly cocooned, leaving him mummified in sticky strands.

Things were getting interesting. It seems that even tangible ghosts exist nowadays.

***

[Word Count 1834]