I was surprised to learn that Peter had not, in fact, done the Chemistry homework. Or any other for that matter. He confessed he had forgotten about it entirely as he often did. He wasn't proud of it, but most often he would rip through his assignments the day before or even the hour before it was due. Apparently, he found it all dreadfully boring - something we could agree wholeheartedly about.

So for the next fifteen minutes, I had the surreal experience of sharing my work with the brainy teen instead. Of course, it ended with me regretting I did because he was quick to point out a plethora of mistakes and technicalities I had missed.

The second mistake I made that day was asking Peter what the Walter White imitation in his room was all about.

"Oh man, I'm so glad you asked," vibrating in excitement at the opportunity he was clearly waiting for, "So last month Uncle Ben got me a D-I-Y CRISPR kit-"

"Wait. You need all that just to make some potato chips?" I asked incredulously, genuinely surprised by the mundanity of the fragile-looking setup.

Once again, I was on the receiving end of Peter's dumbfounded look. My momentary lapses in knowledge and perceived blinding ignorance had earned quite a few of those in the short week I had known him.

"No," he said slowly as if talking to a baby, "CRISPR-Cas9 is a gene editing system. CRIPSR as in, Clustered Regularly Interspaced Short Palindromic Repeats and Cas9 is the enzyme used to cut the targeted sequences."

I was fairly sure he was just trying to bamboozle me with big words but I replied weakly anyway, "I think I know what an enzyme is…"

Peter grinned at my confusion, "Anyway, it's a gene editing technology. The cheapest and most accurate one that exists, currently. You can use it to do anything from growing new organic materials to potentially curing cancer."

"So what you're saying is…it probably won't explode if I accidentally knocked it over."

"No, but I might," he threatened which was a fairly impotent expression coming from someone with his physique.

"What are you trying to do with it anyway?"

"Just practising, really. It's a really delicate technique and I've been trying to figure out ways to lower the external variables," he shrugged as though that in itself was nothing to be impressed about.

I laughed in response, "Right. Lower external variables today, tomorrow - world domination!"

"Ha ha," he enunciated sarcastically, "If you must know; Oscorp's been working on some genetically enhanced spiders and they plan to share their DNA and research via a competition at their exhibition later this year. I really want to win a spot. Apparently, they can produce silk with the tensile strength of steel."

"Wow. Peter, that's incredible. I'm sure you'll do great." Impressed with Peter's ambitious goals, I took a second to re-evaluate my own. Maybe I should have put more thought into the duopoly that was my life plan. Currently, it started with 'Get into college' and ended with 'Survive'. But maybe I could do something more meaningful with my life.

My morose introspection was soon interrupted by the catchy theme song of Super Mario Bros. Peter had booted up an emulator and was waving a controller in my face.

"Highest score wins. The loser pranks Flash," he challenged. Since it felt like a win, either way, I readily agreed. Eugene Thompson, as I recently learned his name really was, just had one of those faces you couldn't help but piss off. The way he strutted around like a peacock, always surrounded by his sycophantic posse just rubbed me the wrong way. It didn't help that every word out of his mouth was either boastful or derogatory.

A laundry list of retro games later and halfway through my education on how 'insanely cool' Iron Man was, the voice of Mrs. Parker rang through the apartment, "Peter, Percy, lunch is ready!"

We made our way to the kitchen as Percy retold, for the third time since that morning, how Tony Stark had saved his life at the Stark Expo a few years ago. While an army of flying robots was not that hard to imagine - Daedalus' automatons came to mind. It was hard to reconcile their existence in a universe without Divine blessings.

I was starting to wonder if this world was as weird, if not weirder, than my own.

"Hey Uncle Ben," called Peter into the living room as we neared it. Nobody was visible from where we stood but the TV was on and tuned to the news.

"Hey, Pete." A man appeared from the couch, "Hope you had a more relaxing day than I just did," he yawned and disappeared once again, likely laying across it once more.

A beat passed and the man sprung off the couch with new energy. "Oh! You must be Percy! I completely forgot you'd be visiting today," he said with a warm smile. "Welcome to our cosy little slice of New York, son."

"Thanks for having me Mr. Parker," I replied as I took the proffered hand and shook it.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"Just Ben will do," he said, "Or Uncle Ben if that makes you more comfortable."

"Alright, boys! Butts to the table!" called Aunt May from the kitchen, "And Ben, turn off that TV."

Uncle Ben gave me a wink and herded us both to the dining table in the kitchen - without so much as muting the news. He sat at the head of the table facing the TV while Mrs. Parker put her back to it.

"Wow, Mrs. Parker. You really went all out, huh? This looks amazing," I complimented.

She shivered dramatically, "I age ten years every time I'm called that Percy. Just May, if you will."

I couldn't help but smile at how friendly and welcoming Peter's family was.

Aunt May then carried on to introduce the food. The table was set with an array of steaming hot dishes, each one emitting tantalising scents of herbs and spices. I spotted a platter of juicy roasted chicken she said was seasoned with garlic, rosemary, and lemon, a home-made pizza fresh from the oven, and a salad of crisp greens dressed with a tangy vinaigrette.

"Bon appétit!" she said finally but Peter and Uncle Ben had already started stuffing their face with the pizza. Aunt May rolled her eyes with a pout, "Boys. At least one of you has manners."

There was very little talking from the Parker men once the meal had begun. Everyone but Aunt May were simply too absorbed by the delicious assortment of dishes to think about much else, myself included. She, alone, valiantly attempted to keep polite conversation, though I suspected it was just an effort to drown out the voice of the newscaster.

While Uncle Ben seemed invested in her quotidian wanderings for most of the meal, somewhere along the way it became clear to everyone at the table that the TV had stolen his attention.

I looked to see what had him so perturbed and was shocked by the footage being displayed. The news showed a series of clips taken from places all around the Upper Bay. Massive waves were forming in the usually placid water. The newscaster was doing his best to reassure the audience that this was not, in fact, the beginnings of a tsunami but likely an anomaly in the Upper Bay itself. This was corroborated by clips from other parts of the New York waterfronts that were seemingly unaffected.

"And I thought it was bad this morning," Uncle Ben muttered as he turned up the volume.

I looked at Peter in confusion and he explained, "Uncle Ben works at the Brooklyn Navy Yard."

The footage was interrupted by the urgent voice of the newscaster, "This just in, we're hearing from our reporters on the ground that a lab on Governor's Island run by Roxxon Corporation suffered a catastrophic power failure at 'oh-nine-hundred' this afternoon - that's 9 am, September 16th, 2011. At this time, investigators do not suspect foul play, however our environmental specialists at NY1 do believe that the meltdown at the lab could be related to the odd behaviour of the Upper Bay. We at NY1 are currently trying to reach out Roxxon Corporation, however, the lead scientist at the lab on Governor's Island, one Dr. Daphne Smith, has not been available for comment at this time."

'That name seems familiar,' I thought as I looked to Percy. Only to find him wide-eyed in shock. "That's our Chemistry lab teacher!"

"Do you think she's okay?" I asked worriedly. While the news had not reported any injuries, they did mention they were unable to get comments from Roxxon. They likely had no idea what actually happened.

"I hope so. Dr. Smith is like the best teacher at Midtown! I was so excited we had her for homeroom too," he exuded, "Apparently, she organises loads of field trips and class lunches. I had no idea she was an active researcher," he finished in awe.

"How does she make the time?" I wondered aloud.

"To be fair, Chem Lab is like her only actual class."

I hummed in response, unconvinced that she wasn't just a workaholic. "Do you have some sort of class group chat you could hit up?"

"That's brilliant! We do actually. Wait, you're not on it?"

For such a clever guy, Peter could be pretty oblivious to simple things. Or maybe that chat was just so unused by him, he simply forgot it existed.

"Nah, I never gave the school my number. Honestly, what even was that survey? It had so many questions. What do they even need all that information for?"

"Look. I agree with you…but you can see why your personal phone number is not a big ask, right?" he said with a raised eyebrow.

Sheepishly I replied, "Yeah, well, I made up a tonne of bullshit that day. Probably gave them a fake number too."

As a demigod, using phones was like carrying an 'I'm Tasty, Eat Me' neon billboard over my head. I was so used to entering my mother's phone number in forms all my life that I did it again without a thought.

Peter finished composing his message to the group and turned over his phone to show me, "And see, you're on here. It's just not…you I guess. I wonder whose number this really is."

"Probably someone's grandma who has no idea how a smartphone even works," I replied deadpan. Having tried it as soon as I got to this world, I knew for a fact that was exactly right. However, Peter laughed as though I was joking.

"I guess now we wait," he said.

Meanwhile, the news showed live footage of the Upper Bay which had gotten so rough, the Statue of Liberty had been evacuated. The waves had gotten tall enough to reach its pedestal and then suddenly they dropped. Like a string losing tension, the water snapped back even lower than its initial levels and seemed to lose all life.

"What the actual f-" I started only to be interrupted by a distracted admonish from Aunt May, "Language."Then out of nowhere a narrow section of the bay, only a few car lengths wide, rose up about three stories high and crashed into a seaside road in Manhattan. Pushing cars and trucks around like ice cubes.

"What the fuck?" cried Aunt May startled by the suddenness of it.

Peter and I laughed at her face which had gone beet red, embarrassed by her hypocrisy.

----------------------------------------

For the first time that week I found myself with nothing to do as I haunted the park outside the orphanage. Though I patted myself on the back for my diligence, I regretted not having something to occupy my thoughts. If this were before my fall, I would spend days like this at the beach. However, the presence of the sea no longer filled me with warmth or the promise of strength. Instead, all I felt was a cold loneliness.

It was selfish, but sometimes I wish I had ignored the will of the gods and Nyx's advice. Even if it meant losing in the end. At least I would not be left with an all encompassing uncertainty and have died by the side of friends. Perhaps be together with them once again in Elysium.

Then again, it was not unthinkable that the giants would raze the realm of Hades altogether. Relegating us to an eternity in Tartarus. Though now, I would never know.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. Whipping it out, I read the latest message in the group chat I had finally been invited to. It was from Dr. Smith, 'Nothing to worry about. I'll be seeing you on Monday like any other day. My side girl has nothing on you, my lovelies ;)’

A small smile graced my lips. Lifting my sour mood ever so slightly. Dr. Smith really was just a ray of sunshine.