A little over an hour later, the sleek silver Audi R8 was back in the concrete canyons of New York City.
"Peter, given my oversight this time, I've decided to have Jarvis upgrade your security protocol."
"No need, Mr. Stark. You're making me uncomfortable. Spider-Man isn't a child."
Tony didn't argue. He simply shook his head. "Jarvis, upgrade Peter's security monitoring protocol to Level Alpha. Specifically, flag any Mutant-related chatter or movement near his coordinates. Set it as a priority."
"Already done, Boss," the AI replied smoothly.
Peter frowned. "Mr. Stark, I really don't need—"
"This is my responsibility, kid," Tony's tone brooked no argument. "Since May entrusted you to me... uh, I mean, since you chose to stand with me, I have a duty to ensure you don't die. Mutant affairs are messy, Peter. Messier than you can imagine."
"Alright. Since you brought up May, I guess I'm outvoted."
The sports car wove through traffic, eventually pulling up to a weathered four-story building in a quieter, run-down neighborhood in Queens.
Before getting out, Peter turned to the billionaire. "Thank you for helping me today, Mr. Stark. Even if the 'Iron Man saves the day' routine was a bit over the top."
He grinned as he said the last part.
"Peter. I don't care if you want to be independent, or if you insist on living in a shoebox."
Tony took off his sunglasses, looking Peter in the eye with a rare seriousness. "Remember, kid. Anytime you get into trouble—and I mean any trouble—contact me immediately. Don't try to be a hero alone. Understand?"
Peter nodded. He closed the car door and watched the Audi vanish around the corner before heading upstairs.
Back in his cramped but familiar apartment, Peter finally had a chance to breathe.
He leaned back on his creaking iron-frame bed, closed his eyes, and turned his focus inward.
The physical changes were obvious. His muscle fibers felt denser, woven tighter. Every contraction packed more explosive energy than before. The Wolverine factor.
But even more surprising was the other power. The abilities originating from Magneto and Professor X were growing within him, like a dormant seed that had suddenly sprouted.
"This feeling... it's incredible," Peter murmured, staring at his palm.
At the Alkali facility, the power had been wild—a strange intruder rampaging through his nervous system, snatching guns on instinct.
Now, it felt docile. Familiar. It felt like him.
Peter concentrated on a pencil resting on his desk. He didn't reach for it physically; he reached for it with his mind. With a slight shift of will, the pencil trembled, lifted, and began to rotate slowly in the dim light.
This wasn't just magnetism, he realized. The pencil was wood and graphite. This was telekinesis. Pure willpower manifesting as physical force.
"Just like Magneto could initially only control two coins," Peter recalled from the X-Men files in his memory. "But over time, he could manipulate the Earth's magnetic poles."
The thought was exhilarating and terrifying. If Magneto's power had that kind of ceiling, what was Peter's limit?
He stood up and walked to the center of the room. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to wrap his telekinesis around his own body.
A strange buoyancy surged from beneath his feet. His sneakers left the floor. An inch. Two inches...
He was floating.
He wobbled like a baby learning to walk, hovering only a few feet in the air, but he was doing it.
"This is amazing!" Peter cheered.
His excitement broke his concentration. He tilted backward, nearly slamming into the ceiling, but his Spider-Sense flared, allowing him to twist and land lightly on his feet.
This changed everything. As Spider-Man, his mobility was already legendary, but true flight? Imagine stopping a robbery without even changing into the suit. Or surviving a drop from the stratosphere after battling the Vulture.
More importantly, this power seemed to resonate with his Spider-Sense, sharpening his perception to a razor's edge.
Peter decided to test the other ability he'd glimpsed at the lab. He lay back on the bed, closed his eyes, then slowly opened them, pushing his focus deeper.
The world dissolved.
"Whoa," he gasped. "It's like a skylight into the universe."
His vision pierced the surface of matter, diving into the microscopic kingdom.
He saw the air in the room not as empty space, but as a chaotic dance. Water molecules spun and collided like tiny diamonds. Oxygen pairs waltzed elegantly. Nitrogen molecules drifted in stable clusters.
It was a dynamic, vibrant tableau, clearer than any electron microscope image.
Peter had a sudden idea. He focused on a single wandering water molecule.
He extended his mind, feeling that wondrous power reach out from the depths of his brain like an invisible hand.
The molecule responded. It shifted its trajectory at his command.
"Unbelievable!" Peter sprang up from the bed with a carp-skip, eyes wide. "If I can see it, I can touch it. My telekinesis works at the molecular level!"
For the next hour, Peter was a child with a new toy. He guided oxygen molecules into tiny whirlwinds. He condensed water vapor into floating droplets. He even tried—with mixed success—to rearrange the structure of carbon dioxide.
As a genius in biology and physics, Peter understood the terrifying implications of this power better than anyone.
Forget the sci-fi applications. Purely in terms of combat, molecular manipulation placed him in the upper echelon of the Mutant hierarchy.
Jean Grey decomposed matter. Apocalypse rearranged his own cellular structure. Iceman froze molecules to absolute zero. These were beings who could take on the Avengers solo.
"Well, I guess I'm a heavy hitter now," Peter chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Watch out, Galactus."
His gaze fell on his spare Spider-Man suit in the corner. It had several tears from the rocket blast earlier that day.
He concentrated. He visualized the polymers and fibers of the suit. He guided the surrounding molecules to fill the gaps, knitting the structure back together.
Before his eyes, the tears vanished. The suit looked brand new.
"Who needs Stark tech nano-suits?" Peter whistled. "As long as I keep practicing, I can repair—or maybe even change—my clothes with a thought."
This meant instant costume changes. Or maybe even altering his physical appearance like Mystique.
"The potential is terrifying," Peter muttered. "Good thing I'm one of the good guys. SHIELD would have a field day with this."
Further testing revealed a pattern. His "molecular vision" was tied to his telekinetic range. Currently, he could influence matter within a radius of about two hundred meters. His vision extended just as far.
But as his power grew, so would his range.
A thought struck him: If his range expanded to a kilometer? Ten kilometers? He wouldn't just be the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. He would be a guardian capable of monitoring the entire city in real-time.
"So... I'm basically becoming a super-upgraded version of a neighborhood watch," Peter laughed.
His mood sobered as the reality set in. Was this power a blessing or a curse?
The good news: he had the firepower to face the threats he knew were coming. The Inheritors—interdimensional vampires who hunted Spiders—were going to be in for a nasty surprise.
The bad news: Spider-Man was now undeniably a mutant. And in a world that feared and hated Mutants, his path just got a lot more complicated.
------
If you want to support me because you're rich af and have some money to waste, then do so to my p atreon: patr eon.com/ReaderViewPoint