Sunlight was seeping through the gap in the curtains, painting intricate patterns of light on the gray wallpaper. Too bad the sunbeam didn't stop on the wall but shifted right onto my face, hitting my eyes and forcing me to wake up. I stretched in bed, savoring the last moments of peace before a new day.
Catching a whiff, I realized the smell of frying food was coming from the kitchen. It turned out Mary Jane had gotten up a little earlier and was already making us a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs with tomatoes.
Before heading to the kitchen, I went to the bathroom and washed up, finally shaking off my drowsiness. The morning ritual always helps me come to.
"You woke up just in time, Levi," the girl said, noticing my appearance in the kitchen. "I was just about to call you to the table."
"You're like the perfect homemaker. Someone's going to be very lucky to have a wife like you," I generously complimented her, glad she wasn't one of those spoiled prima donnas who proudly declare their independence from kitchen utensils, demanding that guys take them to restaurants or, at the very least, order food delivery.
Honestly, I don't understand what's going on inside the skulls of such individuals. Life is long and very unpredictable; today you're a king or a tycoon, and tomorrow you're bankrupt and an outcast, forced to scavenge through dumpsters.
And no one is immune to that. No matter what family you're born into, no matter what education you get, there's always a chance your profession will disappear due to new technologies or shifting societal trends.
That's the best-case scenario. In the worst case—natural disasters, crop failures, crises, epidemics, military conflicts. There are too many things in the world that can change the status quo, both for an individual and for all of humanity. How, under such circumstances, can anyone believe they're some high-flying bird not meant for cooking is a complete mystery to me.
And it would be one thing if the person were truly wealthy, someone for whom an hour saved meant a few thousand in their pocket or the overall success of their enterprise. They can afford that kind of behavior, at least in the moment when they're riding high. But do truly successful people make such provocative statements?
If a person thinks that in decades of life they'll never have to stand at a stove, moreover, contemptuously calls the activity unworthy, then to hell with such an idiot. Doesn't matter if it's a girl or a guy, I wouldn't build a trusting relationship with that kind of individual.
"The same could be said about you," MJ retorted, reminding me of yesterday's steaks. Though steaks are too simple a dish to judge culinary skills by, unlike the homemade soup made with soul.
"You're right, snagging a handsome guy like me is priceless," I proudly straightened my shoulders, making my companion roll her eyes.
We finished the scrambled eggs in ten minutes and another five over a cup of morning coffee, then started discussing our plan for the day. It turned out our plans almost completely overlapped, since our class had a school trip to the "Oscorp" science exhibition today.
Except that the girl expressed a desire to stop by home first and change clothes. So we'd probably meet up on the school bus. At that moment, I felt a pang of guilt for leaving the girl without the panties she was presumably going home for. Although, that's just a bold assumption. Maybe she also planned to put on makeup, choose a suitable outfit, and so on down the, incomprehensible to the male mind, female checklist.
After seeing my friend to the elevator, I returned to the apartment and took out a sealed pack of cigarettes from a drawer. Going out onto the balcony, I opened the pack and pinched a cigarette between my fingers. I sat down in the wicker chair, flicked the lighter, and took the first drag. Smoke filled my lungs, making my body relax and my brain work a little faster and easier.
A habit from my past life, one I'd gotten rid of in this new body. Gotten rid of, but... I allowed myself to occasionally indulge in a cigarette under special circumstances: severe stress or, like now, when I needed to think things through.
The main thing was not to break my own vow, meaning resorting to nicotine no more than once a month, so as not to develop the harmful habit again. And I honestly followed my own rule, sometimes going months without touching tobacco.
A strange principle, frankly. You'd think, why step on the same rake again, walking a fine line, because even with such precautions, the chance of relapse increases. What can I say, the physiological and psychological addiction were gone, but the sense of ritual was etched into my soul.
Not to mention the stimulating effect of nicotine on the nervous system. Sometimes, to look at an issue from a different angle, I had to resort to old inclinations. And right now, I had a topic for thought.
The Oscorp exhibition, where Peter Parker would get bitten by a spider, granting him superhuman abilities. Should I interfere and change the original course of events? Why not put myself in the path of those spider chelicerae?
Despite already having excellent physical shape, it was far from the strength of someone like Spider-Man. Of course, over time, it wouldn't be hard for me to surpass Parker in most parameters. But who would refuse free power? Besides, the spider-sense is a very useful ability, even if it comes with some nuances.
True, I didn't want to act so selfishly and deprive Peter of his Destiny, but if I recalled and sorted through the many scenarios following the bite from that genetically modified spider, Parker had more problems. From constant misunderstandings in his personal life to a whole string of various supervillains who seemed to have it in for Spider-Man for no good reason.
Decision made. I'll use the spider-bro for my own nefarious interests, and later compensate Parker when he needs some kind of help, no matter with what. Maybe I could help a genius like Peter get noticed by Stark? That's one option.
Despite his character, Anthony deeply appreciates talent, and with that kid's intellect, he'd definitely find a way to use him. Maybe even give him funding for his own development.
About half a day had passed since Tony was kidnapped by the "Ten Rings" terrorists; he'd probably already come to with a hole in his chest, ready for new accomplishments with his ideology and thoughts completely turned upside down.
Damn, the canon was really starting to nip at my heels. Today, the excursion to "Oscorp" company, which ideally would activate a couple of Spider-Man quests and the emergence of the Green Goblin.
Then Stark's return and his battle in New York with Obadiah Stane, who would steal the first "Mark-1" suit. Man... that cigarette came in handy. Helped ease the tension and relieve the wave of stress that had hit me.
Finishing my smoke, I got up, stretched my stiff body, and went to get dressed for the exhibition. It was 7:30 in the morning, meaning I had an hour and a half for everything.
After a quick contrast shower, I changed into clean clothes and headed out, grabbing the essentials. Since I had enough time and felt like walking after all that thinking, I decided to walk to school. A perfect opportunity to breathe and clear my head.
Watching the people passing by me: singles, families, couples. I really did feel a bit better.
My mood improved slightly, and before I knew it, I'd arrived at the gates of Midtown School. Going inside, I spotted a crowd of students; I guess that's where I needed to be.
The high schoolers were chatting happily, sharing their excitement about the upcoming excursion. Not only because it was interesting and intriguing, but also because it got us out of classes for the day. And to be honest, I completely agreed with them on that.
About five minutes later, Gwen showed up, looking as impeccable as always, but without being the least bit provocative.
"Good morning, Gwen," I greeted my friend cheerfully, genuinely glad to see her.
"Levi, hi!" her focused, brainy-girl face softened into something tender and sweet, and I couldn't help but hug my friend. "W-what are you doing?!"
Stacy was taken aback for a moment but didn't break the hug. She even leaned forward slightly, pressing against me. Maybe I should hug her every time I see her? Or is that too much? After all, she's more demure than MJ?
"Hugging you, of course. I really missed my friend," I said, my lips unconsciously stretching into a smile, a pleased expression appearing on my face.
"M-missed me? Okay, but I hope it's not my homework you missed?" having composed herself, the girl couldn't resist a little joke.
"What? Of course not! Your work is good, but not as beautiful as you. By the way, how's your project with Parker going?" I inquired.
"It's great! Though we had to stay in the library until late last night for it," Gwen replied, recalling yesterday's struggles.
"Um, what's the topic? Why did two geniuses like you need to visit the library?" I asked, genuinely surprised, knowing both individuals were literally walking encyclopedias of knowledge.
"Chemical thermodynamics and kinetics. The topic was interesting enough, but it has so many variables and calculations. It's like the teacher knew who to give such a tough project topic to," she clenched her little fists in righteous indignation; apparently, she hadn't enjoyed the time spent in the library too much.
While I was talking with Gwen, a red-haired girl with green, slyly narrowed fox-like eyes approached us.
"Hi, Levi. Gwen," she greeted us, then, with an enchanting smile, continued, "So, how do I look?" she finished, twirling on the spot like the shameless redhead she was. What was this blatant and obvious attempt to compromise me?!
"Wonderful," I gave a thumbs up, and then, under Gwen's intense stare, slowly lowered it, mentally wiping the sweat from my brow.
At that moment, a yellow bus pulled up to the school, saving me from the awkward silence in the company of two lovely girls who were shooting hostile glances at each other. Or rather, I mistakenly thought I was saved. The ladies weren't willing to end the unspoken battle so easily, and MJ dropped this bombshell:
"Thanks for the wonderful night, Levi," Mary Jane said with a little smile in front of the school bus. Though at that moment, she wasn't looking at me, but at her rival for my "friendship." The provocation worked perfectly, and Gwen gritted her teeth in anger.
"Let's grab the back seats, you don't mind, right?" I asked frantically, and then, without waiting for an answer from the girls, grabbed their hands and dragged them onto the bus. I absolutely had to make them friends during the ride to the "Oscorp" tower.
"Levi, aren't you going to tell me what this 'wonderful night' with Mary Jane Watson was all about?!" she asked in a threatening whisper, with jealous undertones.
"Oh, well, that..." I hesitated for a second. "She just stayed over at my place so she wouldn't have to go home in the dark. The streets of New York are too dangerous at that time, you know," I presented it all under the plausible guise of safety.
"Sometimes, I feel like I don't know you at all, Levi," Gwen smiled bitterly, pulling away from me in a gesture of offense.
"Then let's get to know each other a little better," I moved closer to her, reducing the distance between us to something impermissible for ordinary friends. "Let's go somewhere this weekend, walk in the park, watch a movie, and hold hands to improve team cohesion between us," I whispered in her ear like the devil himself, making a tempting offer.
"I don't know," she mused thoughtfully, hesitating to answer directly.
"If Gwen can't, then I'll go for a walk with you," MJ, sitting nearby, brazenly butted into the conversation. And for that, I had to give her credit, because otherwise, Gwen probably wouldn't have agreed to go out, making excuses about activities and extra clubs.
"Who said I can't?" Stacy perked up like a ruffled little sparrow. "I absolutely can go; after all, Levi invited me, not you," she smirked maliciously, just to spite her opponent. So childish, yet still very cute. You rarely see Gwen like this. Hmm, should I buy a camera for moments like this? I'll have to think about it between saving my own skin and other leisure activities.
"Well, that's okay, he and I will go for a walk another time. As they say, save the best for last," Mary Jane winked meaningfully, making the blonde frown again. It seemed they had taken a slight disliking to each other.
The conversation between us three died out on a hostile note. MJ knew her limits, and to avoid heating up the atmosphere too much, she went to sit with her friends, or rather acquaintances.
Left alone with the unsettled Gwendolyne, I was forced to find ways to cheer her up. Another idea suddenly came to mind about how to better use the spider, so I decided to test the waters.
"By the way, the other day I randomly stumbled upon a cartoon about superheroes and got to thinking what superpower I'd like to have," I started from afar, and Stacy interrupted with interest.
"Randomly, you say?" the girl covered the lower part of her face with her hand to hide a smile.
"Don't focus on insignificant details," I looked away, not admitting my love for animation. "Anyway, I wouldn't mind X-ray vision or the ability to turn invisible."
"Your choice worries me," my friend looked at me suspiciously.
"No, no, don't get the wrong idea, I wouldn't use it for crimes. I'd just use it to peek at pretty girls," I tried to dissuade the police chief's daughter from her opinion of me.
"Actually, that's exactly what I thought," Gwen said, laughing softly.
"Apparently, you really do know me well. What about you? What ability do you dream of?" I cast a line to find out Stacy's attitude towards potentially becoming a superheroine.
"Probably something like enhanced cognitive abilities or regeneration. Well, actually, if I suddenly got superpowers, I'd use them to protect and save people. There's nothing more valuable than a human life," she reasoned philosophically. "That's why I always strive to help those in need."
"You know, Gwen, I'm proud to have a friend like you," I replied sincerely. "It takes a lot of strength to make that choice."
"Thank you. My father taught me that," Stacy said with a touch of pride.
Her father, George Stacy, had truly raised his daughter well, too well by the standards of this dark world. So, forgive me in advance, Gwen, and let me be selfish. I think I've decided who really deserves the spider.
Ten minutes later, the bus arrived at the "Oscorp" building.
The tall, dark skyscraper loomed over us like an imposing giant. The honeycomb-like glass panels created the feeling that we were facing a high-tech hive, where countless scientists and other specialists were forging the future.
When all the students had gotten off the bus under the teacher's supervision, a company employee approached our group and invited us to follow him.
Inside, we were greeted by a spacious lobby; ahead was a long, futuristic counter where several more employees stood. Each of us had to go up to it and sign for a temporary visitor ID card. They were completely impersonal and had to be returned after the exhibition.
After fulfilling all the requirements, we were finally allowed further in. The level of security was noticeable and reassuring. Though, even with such protective measures, modified spiders from any universe always seemed to manage.
Although it's not impossible that Norman Osborn himself, head of Oscorp Industries, could have influenced the course of this event. A sort of homemade experiment on his part. Just think how many coincidences would have to happen for the seal on the chambers containing genetically modified creatures that looked like spiders to be broken, allowing them to just crawl out? That's the thing, so I had to be maximally vigilant and careful.
While the lead scientist droned on about scientific topics that most of those present didn't understand, I was turning my head from side to side, trying to locate the sneaky arachnid. I paid special attention to Peter, since the spider was supposed to appear near him.
For a long time, I didn't notice anything suspicious, until at one point I spotted a tiny dot hanging on a thin thread of web. There was my target. Carefully approaching the spot where the arthropod was hanging, I waited for it to descend a little further and, with a quick movement, caught it in the fabric of my sleeve.
After capturing the spider, I returned to Gwen, who was at that moment listening entranced to the scientist, oblivious to changes in the world around her. The girl didn't notice my movements, nor did she notice me placing the genetically modified spider on her hair, right next to her neck.
Now I just had to wait for it to do its job. But the little bastard didn't seem to understand what was required of it, lounging lazily on Gwen's hair. I had to poke it with my finger a few times, unnoticed, to get it moving and provoke it. Finally, the eight-eyed creature realized it wouldn't be left in peace and bit Gwendolyne on her delicate neck.
The girl yelped in pain and started rubbing the bite spot. Then she brought her palm closer to her face to see the culprit and was surprised by her discovery.
Seeing the blonde flinch and gasp in pain, I could only think one thing. I hope I don't regret this decision and that I haven't just done something irreversible. Plot armor, if you exist, now's the time for you to kick in.