I began to jog, slowly at first, just to keep my heart rate up. But soon I got curious—just what could this body really do?
So with a grin, I kicked off at full speed. The houses went by quickly. I found I was faster than I'd ever been—maybe twenty miles an hour? Maybe more? It was honestly impressive, considering I'd never run professionally before in my life! Or Peter's life, for that matter.
I ended up running all the way out of the suburbs and into town. I ran past delis still open and a few supermarkets. People didn't bother looking at me. Guess they were used to seeing people jog at all hours of the day.
But soon I found myself at the abandoned train yard a few blocks away from home. Peter used to come here when his experiments had a more... explosive intention. He always found climbing the thirty-foot-tall fence the hard part, but now I could clear it with a single leap.
The place had one giant hangar, rusted over and overgrown with weeds. People didn't come here often. Even kids who were looking for a place to crash avoided it thanks to the fence and lack of comfort.
I, however, came here for another reason.
I went up to the hangar and grabbed the doors. I pulled with all my might and they groaned as slowly the doors were pushed to the side.
Inside, I found several types of machinery. There was a stack of railway lines off to the side—some were ten feet long, others thirty feet and beyond. There was even an abandoned train car in one corner, as well as some chains hanging from the ceiling and what looked like a generator off to the side.
This place honestly made me feel like it could be my secret hideout, my home away from home. It just needed... well, it needed a lot of work.
But first, maybe it was time to see what I could really do?
I walked up to one of those ten-foot railway lines and grabbed hold of its sides. I gripped it as hard as I could and in one swift motion tried to lift it up.
To my immense surprise, I found myself holding the beam of metal over my head, a victorious grin on my face.
I threw it to the ground and panted. This was amazing. It must have weighed what? Five hundred pounds? Maybe more? I could military lift that over my head straight off the bat! One could only imagine what I could do with some actual training.
I couldn't be a muscle builder though. Spider-Man was always more of a gymnast than a brawler, like Nightwing. He was... exactly like... woah.
Just then I had an epiphany. Who were the two most popular comic book characters in Marvel and DC?
Spider-Man and Batman.
They didn't have cosmic powers or some kind of deus ex machina to give them what they needed. Well, Batman did have his utility belt, but that's besides the point.
Spider-Man and Batman were very much alike. They both suffered great loss which gave them a sense of duty—for Bruce it was vengeance, for Peter it was responsibility for the powers he now possessed.
They were also focused on small-time crime. While other heroes faced aliens and other nonsense, Batman and Spider-Man always seemed to stick to their cities. Sure, they would often venture out, but always came back.
There were a lot of things different about them, true—their attitude, the fact that Peter was piss-poor and Bruce was rich as hell.
But there were a lot of similarities as well. They both mainly fought with their fists and minds. They were both highly valued despite being only slightly advanced humans. Spider-Man did have his powers, but they paled when compared to those like Thor.
Heck, even some of their villains were the same! Joker and the Green Goblin. Black Cat and Catwoman. Sandman and Clayface. The list went on.
But I was starting to see a pattern here.
Peter and Bruce were reflections of each other. One had powers to help him out while the other had his training and his mind. If I wanted to be Spider-Man, I couldn't just repeat what Peter did. No, I had to be better. I had to be superior to him!
...God, that makes me sound so much like Otto.
But getting back to the point: if I were to improve Batman, I would give him spider powers to make him even more combat-savvy than he already was. I would also give him Peter's amazing engineering mind to help think of solutions he wouldn't even begin to question were possible.
But if I were to improve upon Spider-Man? That would be a taller order.
I would need to learn to fight like Batman—master so many types of combat that people would lose count. Be smart about fighting crime, not just swinging into battle all crazy, hoping for trouble. I would need to know everything I possibly could to fight crime, learn things I previously thought pointless.
I couldn't have the gadgets—too expensive. But I could build my own, make them from scratch. It would be difficult, maybe even pointless, but... but if I could, it would be so cool!
I felt a big smile come across my face. I imagined myself as a mixture of Spider-Man and Batman, a hero unlike any other. A hero who could surpass the call of justice and fight the good fight, protect people.
But... but it was just too much.
I leaned against the hangar wall and looked around. Why should I go through all this trouble? For people who I don't even know?
Why... no, I can't think like that. I remember what the battle between the Hulk and Abomination did. I need to be a hero. I have to be. I always wanted to help people, and now that I can, why should I be a mediocre hero? Why just be a wall-crawler when I can be so much more?
I stood up with a confidence I didn't know I had. I had a goal: to be the greatest hero of both worlds, not because of some death-in-the-family nonsense, but because if I didn't, I knew what would happen. I knew that people would die. They needed me, and I needed to be my best.
I got back home and turned on my computer. I began to search online for the skills I would need. Kind of stupid, I know, but I needed to start somewhere.
I made a list—things I would need to learn to do to become the best. To become the Spider-Bat! ...Yeah, no. Maybe I should just stick with Spider-Man.
I found a dojo that taught mixed styles of martial arts: karate, judo, and taekwondo, each for a period of two hours, from 3 to 9 at night. Usually people would register for one class, but I wasn't ordinary people.
I wouldn't be able to start going out and saving people immediately. I didn't have a suit ready or my web shooters. I didn't even have a plan of attack. So I needed to be patient, to bide my time and learn, grow. Spider-Man wouldn't be born anytime soon, sadly. No, this would require patience.
I would also need to learn everything I could. Mechanics, chemistry, and physics would be my core subjects to focus on. Maybe... maybe I should also focus on other things as well, like languages?
With my mind made up, I began to feel sleepy. With a smile I went to bed. Strangely enough, that night I had a dream of bats and spiders. Needless to say, I woke up screaming for my mommy.
***
The next day at school, I tackled classes a bit differently. I had gone to the library before class and checked out a guide to learning French. While the teacher taught us history, I snuck in bits of French.
It was difficult at first, but after I began to actually think upon what I learned... well, things got a lot easier. Thank you, God, for giving me the mind of a genius.
With Peter's advanced neural network, I was able to learn a few phrases in French in a day. I wouldn't be impressing any French supermodels passing by, but it was a start.
I also began to pay more attention in class. I even bombarded the teachers with questions, asking detailed questions. They smiled in appreciation at first, but I think they came to loathe me by the end of class.
I ended up filling several pages with notes. Good—no reason to remember all this in my head now and waste storage space.
I didn't go home with MJ on the bus. Instead, I took the train to Manhattan to visit that dojo I found last night.
I told Aunt May and Uncle Ben what I was going to do before I left for school that day. Needless to say, they were surprised.
"Peter, why do you want to take such classes?" May asked, worried.
"I want to be able to protect myself, Aunt May," I replied. "If I get into a tough situation, I want to be able to handle it."
"But Peter—"
"May, let the boy do what he wants," Ben spoke out with a reassuring smile. "He wants to protect himself, and that's fine. Besides, it's a good thing that he's finally got himself a hobby."
'Not really a hobby, more like an agenda,' I told myself, but nodded externally. "Yeah. Besides, life's getting kind of dull. I need something interesting to do."
"Surely you and MJ can figure out something," May suggested.
"No, MJ's... she's busy with other stuff," I shrugged. "No biggie. But I do want to do this, Aunt May. Please."
The woman met my gaze for the longest time before she sighed and relented. She warned me not to push myself. I kind of lied and told her I wouldn't. I also told her classes were from 5 to 9, and it consisted of only one class, not three separate ones. No need to worry her more.
I arrived at the dojo in Chinatown. People were already going in. I saw so many kids being dropped off by parents—it was honestly worrisome. Would this place even teach me anything? Or was this just a giant money dump?
I sighed. I was about to leave in frustration when I noticed a sign down the road, hidden behind a neon sign for a Chinese restaurant. I paused, blinking at it. It sounded so familiar.
'Chikara Dojo'
And I realized why. Colleen Wing. She owned that dojo. She was Iron Fist's love interest, and she... she was currently a member of the Hand that brainwashed kids into becoming killing machines.
And like that, I was at an impasse. One: I could try my luck in another dojo and pray it wasn't a money dump as well. Or two: go to the Chikara Dojo, learn what I could from Colleen, and make sure the Hand didn't become aware of me mooching off their techniques.
It was a dangerous gamble, for sure. The Hand were a league of assassins in this universe—ninjas that had no equal. It was crazy to think I could learn from them, but at the same time... Bruce Wayne in one universe learned from Ra's al Ghul himself.
Screw it. I wanted to be a ninja. But if they even thought I was joining their little clan, then they had another thing coming.
I walked into the building and found a staircase leading to the first floor with a sign for the dojo. The place looked exactly like it did in the Netflix series—yellow hallways and all. I found the dojo easily and stopped, peeping in to see students already in uniforms standing before Colleen, who I had to admit looked amazing!
She looked up and noticed me, nodding for me to enter. With a gulp, I did. I took off my shoes and walked into the dojo.
The students turned to look at me. I met their gaze. I turned to Colleen. "I wish to learn. Please."
The female ninja smiled. "You came to the right place. Though, uh, you don't really have to sound like you're in a kung fu movie, you know."
I chuckled, rubbing my hair. "Sorry. Nervous."
"It's fine. My name is Colleen Wing, and you are?"
"Peter. Peter Parker," I put down my bag and took off my shirt, revealing the exercise clothes I had on underneath. "Can I start now?"
Colleen looked impressed. "No, not today. For today I want you to stand to the side and watch. Think you can do that, Peter?"
I nodded. "Sure." I sat down to the side, watching them closely.
"Right, now then, let's begin," Colleen turned to her students.
They went into basic movements of the blade. It seemed she taught them kendo for now.
Maybe more advanced classes learned ninjutsu and stuff like that? Maybe only the really advanced recruits were even considered for such training? I needed to learn that as well. I needed them to want me, and maybe I could leave them wondering how it all went so wrong.
But for now, I sat down and watched. I used Peter's amazing mind to break down the swings and the foot positions, understanding how it moved and why. I learned the various strikes by watching them move, and I even noticed their mistakes.
By the end of the first session, everyone there was sweating. Kendo was hard—it wasn't just swinging a sword. It also involved a lot of hand-to-hand movement that required stamina, though I didn't think I'd suffer for it.
"Alright, class, good work for today. I'll see you all around tomorrow, same time. Joey! Don't be late!"
"I'll try, Sensei Wing!"
She smiled as the rest of her students left, leaving her and me alone. She sat down before me and smiled. "So what do you think? Think you can keep up?"
"If I do, will you advance me ahead of the class?" I asked her.
She looked surprised, confused even, so I explained, "They're way too new at this to be your best class. I'm assuming there are different levels, probably at different times. I was wondering if I learned them well enough, you wouldn't hold me back."
Colleen looked surprised. "I would never hold back a promising student. If I believe you are worthy, then yes, I would advance you. But don't get your hopes up just yet, Peter. It isn't as easy as it looks."
I smirked. "I think I got it."
Colleen chuckled. "Really?"
"Yup." I got up and walked over to the sword stands, picking up a wooden bokuto. "Care to try me?"
Colleen looked unsure before shrugging. "Why not. Show me what you got."
I nodded as I proceeded to show her the three katas she had taught the students today. One that was a basic attack and block combo, the next one added leg movement and turning the body, and the last one added more complex swings that were difficult for some to do, but thanks to my agility, I managed my own.
Colleen started. "W-what?! How did you do that? Have you been trained before?"
I shook my head. "No, I just saw how they moved and copied it. Well, I also noticed a few mistakes, so I corrected those as well."
Colleen's eyes went wide before she smiled. "I would be honored to teach you, Peter."
I bowed. "Thank you, Sensei Wing. I won't disappoint. Will your next class be coming soon?"
Colleen nodded. "Yes, I have three more classes after this. Why? Do you wish to stay?"
"Yes."
"Alright, but you mustn't practice the techniques I show them today, understood? They are extremely dangerous and only a master can perform them without issues. So no getting greedy, understood, Peter?"
I smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it."
I spent the next three hours watching students come and go. Colleen had a pretty good system, to be honest. Kendo was taught to the beginners first, then more advanced techniques and combat for the second batch.
The third was taught several hand-to-hand combat techniques, and the fourth group, which had only seven people for Colleen to teach, was trained into the ground to be fighters. I knew this wasn't the full Hand ninja training program—the fourth class kids were still too full of openings for one to exploit.
No, these guys would be taken to the facility where they would be further trained and brainwashed. I remembered Iron Fist mentioning the compound was in New York, but I didn't remember where. Damn me and my stupid brain!
I paid Colleen for the month and reached home earlier than I thought that night. May was pleased I found a dojo with much more sensible timings, though she didn't realize how I basically just made a deal with an army of assassins. If she did, I don't think she'd be standing.
***
The next day, I got up bright and early and went for a jog. The very mention of physical exercise seemed to have shocked my aunt. She looked at me like I was a foreigner before smiling. "MJ is a wonderful influence on you, Peter."
And I got pissed. "I'm not doing this for her or anyone else, Aunt May," I hissed with a hostility she wasn't expecting. "I'm doing this for me."
I had two hours to work in some kind of exercise before school started. I ran for half the time and spent the rest in the hangar where I swung from chain to chain. It helped me with my balance and control, giving me some experience swinging large distances.
Unfortunately, it seemed I spent way too much time there. I had to run back to my home at full speed and got ready. I must have taken a bath and changed in record time. I came downstairs and saw breakfast ready for me.
"Morning, Peter," Ben greeted as he looked through that morning's paper.
"Morning, Uncle Ben," I wished him before stuffing my face with breakfast.
Ben blinked. "Slow down, Peter! You're going to—"
I coughed.
He sighed. "Choke. Here, have water. Don't rush."
I drank it. "Can't be late. Need to catch bus."
"Well then, I'll drop you," Ben told me. "Now finish your food."
I nodded as I quickly did just that. I walked out of the house in a few seconds with Uncle Ben following slowly.
As I stood outside though, I noticed MJ waiting outside her own house. I smiled. 'Did she wait for me?'
But before I could say anything, I found a convertible driving down the road, stopping before MJ's house.
My eyes widened as I saw Harry in the driver's seat, honking. "MJ! Come on!" he yelled.
"Coming!" MJ called out as she got out and ran to Harry, slipping into the front seat. She smiled at Harry, who took off like a bullet.
I couldn't help it. I growled. I actually growled.
"Peter," Ben sighed. "She's not abandoning you."
"Really? Because it sure feels like it," I spat back, getting into the car. "Come on, Uncle Ben. I'll be late."
He sighed as he got in the car and ignited it. "Peter, she's just happy she has friends. Can't you understand that?"
"No, Uncle Ben, I do understand that. I also understand that the moment she did, I was completely ignored and forgotten."
Ben took the car out of parking and drove out to the street, driving slowly to the school. "Peter, just because she doesn't talk as much doesn't mean she sees you as less of a friend."
"Maybe she doesn't, but I do," I sighed. "Honestly, I don't understand why I'm complaining. I don't even have friends. But damn it, Uncle Ben, it hurts being ignored."
Ben smiled. "I know, son. I know. But it will get better, I promise you."
I didn't reply. I just looked out at the passing scenery and wondered, 'Should I even bother being her friend anymore?'
***
That day I got to school and didn't bother talking to people in general. I wasn't looking forward to any of the classes. I barely survived them. I did take notes and the like, studied French the best I could. I didn't break from schedule.
After school, I went to the Chikara Dojo where Colleen allowed me to participate with the rest of the beginners, though it became obvious I was far more skilled and graceful than them. Spider powers for the win!
I arrived at Queens via train, and as I walked out of the train station, I heard someone scream.
My eyes went wide. 'A mugging!' I realized as I shot out the door like a bullet and looked around. I saw someone being pushed into an alley by three guys across the street. Wasting no time, I put on my hoodie and charged.
"Your jewels and money, rich guy, or I'll stab you where you stand!"
"Okay, please don't hurt us!" a man said, standing protectively before his girlfriend as three thugs stood around them with knives.
"Hey, assface!" I yelled out.
The one closest to the street looked away. "What—" And his face connected to my boot, breaking his nose and sending him flying backward.
"Get him!" the other thug yelled out as the last one tried to take me on.
He thrust his blade forward, trying to rip my stomach open, but I managed to dodge them all, my spider-sense helping me predict what was going to happen.
Suddenly he roared and charged forward, trying to grab me, but I jumped over his head, landed on the other side, and sent a kick into his back that landed him on the ground.
Before anyone could react, I charged the last thug still standing and grabbed hi