After Peter Parker vanished into the sewer system, several flying robots descended from the sky, metallic bodies gleaming under the streetlights as they landed precisely on the debris-strewn pavement.
One unit swiveled its head in a mechanical scanning motion, optical sensors sweeping the area. It abruptly changed direction and marched toward the curb where it located a tattered backpack—Peter's abandoned school property.
The robot extended a mechanical arm, preparing to examine the contents. Just as its fingers closed around the fabric, a system-wide danger alert blared through its processing core.
"BANG! BANG! BANG!"
A rapid succession of gunshots echoed through the street. The remaining robots collapsed instantly, each with a precise, smoking hole through their central processing units. Wisps of green vapor seeped from the damaged circuitry, signaling their permanent deactivation.
A figure in a form-fitting red and black uniform bounded into view, twin katanas strapped to his back and smoking pistols in his hands. With casual grace, he holstered his weapons, scooped up Peter's backpack, and shook his head dramatically.
"Haha, this kid is impressively stupid! Who leaves their backpack at a crime scene?" the masked figure monologued to absolutely no one. "Good thing Uncle Wade happened to be in the neighborhood, otherwise you'd be toast faster than Pop-Tarts in a nuclear reactor!"
He glanced skyward at the rapidly approaching aerial security units, their propulsion systems creating an ominous whine that grew louder by the second.
"Tsk, what a hassle," he muttered, voice laced with theatrical exasperation. "I seriously miss the old New York! Back when the only things trying to kill you were overpriced rent, subway rats, and the occasional alien invasion."
Without another word, he slipped into a nearby alley and vanished into the shadows mere seconds before reinforcements arrived.
"Peter? Dinner's ready, sweetheart." Aunt May's gentle voice accompanied her soft knocking on his bedroom door.
From within his sanctuary, Peter responded with forced normalcy. "I'm not hungry,Aunt May. You go ahead and eat without me. I'll grab something later."
A pause. Then, concern evident in her voice: "Peter, is everything okay? Did something happen at school today?"
"...I'm fine, Aunt May," he managed, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue. "I just ate too much at lunch, that's all."
"Alright, honey," she conceded reluctantly. "But remember, if anything's bothering you, you can always talk to me, okay?"
The sound of her footsteps receded down the hallway.
Alone in his room, Peter Parker lay sprawled across his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. His mind replayed the day's horrific events in an endless loop.
I killed someone, the thought hammered against his consciousness. The reality of what had happened still felt incomprehensible.
He rolled onto his side, gaze fixed on the empty wall.
But I was just trying to help—to save someone and do the right thing! his thoughts protested. Those robot police... why did they stop me? Why wouldn't they save that man? Is hunting down someone with powers really more important than saving a human life?
"Ugh..." A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes.
The events of the past hours had plunged him into profound moral confusion and existential crisis. Nothing in his sixteen years of life had prepared him for this reality.
"Ding dong..."
The doorbell's cheerful chime broke the heavy silence that had settled over the Parker household. Aunt May approached the front door with curiosity, opening it to reveal a handsome young man with an easy smile.
"Hey there! Hello!" the stranger greeted with excessive enthusiasm. "Oh wow, so you're Peter Parker's aunt? I definitely didn't expect someone so youthful and radiant! The Parker genes must be exceptional!"
Aunt May's expression shifted to cautious suspicion as she regarded the smooth-talking stranger. "Who exactly are you?"
"Oh! My bad—totally forgot to introduce myself," he replied, smacking his forehead theatrically. "Name's Wade Wilson. I'm a new teacher at Peter's school, and I just moved to the neighborhood. Complete coincidence, but I found Peter's backpack, which he apparently forgot to bring home. Thought I'd be a responsible educator and deliver it personally!"
Aunt May examined the backpack in Wade's hands. It was indeed Peter's, though it appeared significantly more battered than usual, with suspicious scorch marks along one side.
She reluctantly stepped back. "Please, come in."
Wade sauntered into the living room and lowered himself onto the sofa while Aunt May approached the staircase.
"Peter! Your school teacher is here, and he's brought your backpack!" she called up.
After a notable silence, the sudden thunder of hurried footsteps could be heard, followed by Peter's rapid descent down the stairs.
Wade immediately stood, flashing a brilliant smile. "Hey there, Peter! I noticed you left school without your backpack today. You've got that big history test tomorrow, right? Figured you'd need your study materials."
When Aunt May glanced away, Wade delivered an exaggerated wink that couldn't possibly have been more conspicuous.
Peter stared at the backpack with undisguised anxiety. It wasn't until he'd heard Aunt May's announcement that the horrifying realization struck him—he had abandoned his backpack at the crime scene!
This has to be a trap, his mind raced. Some agent from Stark Industries or the police pretending to be a teacher to get into our house!
But as he evaluated the stranger in their living room, his spider-sense remained curiously silent. No danger signals whatsoever. After a moment of consideration, Peter decided to play along.
"I actually have some questions about the course material that I've been struggling with," Peter said carefully. "Would you mind helping me with those, teacher?"
Wade's smile widened. "Of course! That's what I'm here for!"
Peter nodded to Aunt May before leading Wade upstairs to his room. The moment the door closed behind them, Peter's demeanor transformed completely. He pivoted to face the stranger, muscles tensed for potential conflict.
"Who are you really, and what do you want?" he demanded.
Wade's casual facade remained intact. "Name's Wade Wilson, just like I said. I'm a member of the New York Underground Resistance Organization, and I'm here to recruit you to our cause."
Peter blinked in confusion. "Underground Resistance Organization? What is that supposed to be?"
"I believe you experienced firsthand today what we're fighting against," Wade replied, suddenly serious. "New York—and the entire United States—is under siege. The robot police are systematically taking control of every aspect of society. Stark and the blond president behind this operation are targeting anyone who doesn't fit their definition of 'normal.'"
Wade's expression hardened with genuine anger. "Our underground resistance exists to break Stark's terroristic control over New York and safeguard the principles of freedom and justice that this country was supposedly built on!"
Peter studied Wade's impassioned face, still uncertain. "Are you also... enhanced? Special, like me?"
Wade nodded, a mischievous glint entering his eyes. Without warning, he reached to his waist, produced a small dagger, and—
"PFFT!"
—plunged it directly into his own abdomen.
"Thanks for the generous gift!" Wade declared nonsensically, grinning through what should have been excruciating pain.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" Peter shouted, jumping back in horror. "ARE YOU INSANE? WHY WOULD YOU STAB YOURSELF?!"
Wade held up a placating hand, then casually removed the blade from his flesh. He gestured for Peter to observe the wound site.
Peter watched in astonishment as the damaged tissue visibly knitted itself back together. Within seconds, nothing remained of the injury except a bloodstain on Wade's shirt.
"Holy shit," Peter breathed, both horrified and fascinated. "But seriously, don't ever do something like that again! You'll traumatize someone! Even if it doesn't scare people, think about the pets!"
Wade shrugged nonchalantly. "It's the fastest way to make you believe me. Don't worry about this little pin-prick—it's nothing. The worst I ever experienced was when three dozen robots had me cornered in Times Square. Fought those tin cans for three days and three nights straight without a bathroom break! Finally escaped by sneaking into the aquarium and hiding inside a whale's mouth. That time, I lost enough blood to fill an Olympic swimming pool twice over!"
He continued without pausing for breath. "Now you're probably wondering how I got these incredible powers. It's a heartwarming tale that begins with terminal cancer. My friend told be about a special experimental treatment, he then make me meet this recruiter who promised to make me 'super' but was actually working for a secret organization that tortures people until their mutant genes activate. They kept me in this gross facility where they basically waterboarded me with experimental chemicals while playing Wham's greatest hits on repeat—"
Peter's expression had grown increasingly bewildered as the stream-of-consciousness monologue continued. He finally raised both hands in surrender.
"Okay, STOP! I really don't need to hear what happens next!"
After composing himself, Peter sighed. "Look, how can I possibly join your organization? I'm still a student. I don't want to—"
"Wait," Wade interrupted, suddenly serious. "Peter Parker, do you honestly think you can just walk away from this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you think Stark Industries will let you disappear after you killed a man and destroyed a dozen of their expensive robot cops?" Wade's voice had lost all its playfulness.
Peter frowned, defensive. "I was wearing a mask!"
Wade shrugged expressively. "And yet, I found you."
That simple statement hung in the air. Peter fell silent, the implications sinking in.
Wade approached and placed a supportive hand on Peter's shoulder. "Our destinies changed the moment we acquired these abilities. Fighting against that is like trying to stop a tsunami with a beach umbrella."
"What exactly is my destiny supposed to be?" Peter asked quietly.
Wade's response was immediate and resolute. "To overthrow Stark Industries, resist tyranny, and save the world. You know—the usual Tuesday afternoon stuff for people like us."
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