"Hey, are you Happy?" Peter asked as he came down the steps and spotted a sleek luxury car parked outside.
Through the window, he saw a heavyset man in the driver's seat. No sign of Iron Man though.
The man glanced at him and gave a slight nod.
Click—the door unlocked.
"Hop in, Mr. Parker."
"Oh, okay. Where are we going, exactly?" Peter asked as he slid into the backseat.
There had been so much going on earlier that he hadn't had time to ask Tony about the details.
"Tony didn't tell you? We're going to Hansland."
"Huh?" Peter blinked. "Why Hansland? I thought this was all happening in the U.S.?"
"Nope. It's Hansland. You really didn't know?" Happy replied without turning around.
Despite his bulky appearance, he moved quickly and efficiently. Before Peter could say anything else, the car had already merged into traffic.
Peter groaned. "Man, Hansland? I don't even have a passport!"
"Already taken care of," Happy said. He reached over, grabbed a bag from beside his seat, and tossed it back to Peter.
Peter opened it—and yep, there was his passport.
He frowned. "Wait, but I never gave Tony any photos or documents…"
Okay, dumb question.
This was Tony Stark we're talking about. Of course he could pull this off.
Still, something about it didn't sit right with Peter.
He felt like he was being swept along by something way bigger than him.
It felt… weird. And a bit uncomfortable.
Especially since it was a billionaire pulling the strings.
…Okay, maybe he was overthinking it.
After all, Tony was just saving him a ton of hassle.
---
The car eventually pulled up at the airport.
Peter immediately spotted the private jet on the tarmac. He recognized it from social media—reportedly worth several billion, and owned by Tony Stark himself.
Totally expected.
Sure, Tony had tons of suits, but no one wants to fly everywhere in a full suit of armor.
Most of the time, he traveled like a regular guy—like he did this morning.
Happy got out, grabbed a silver suitcase from the trunk, and started walking straight toward the plane without saying a word.
He didn't even glance at Peter.
To be honest, Happy was a little prejudiced against the kid.
Peter was just a teenager, barely more than a high schooler. Even though it was unfair to judge by appearances, Happy didn't think Peter would be much help to Tony.
Peter didn't mind. He shouldered his backpack and quickly followed behind.
---
The moment he stepped inside the plane, Peter's jaw dropped.
The interior was insane—sleek, futuristic, and super luxurious.
Even cooler? There was no pilot.
This jet was fully autonomous. Totally AI-controlled.
No surprise there.
After all, next to his Iron Man suits, Tony Stark was most famous for his artificial intelligence systems.
Flying a plane without a pilot? Child's play.
Still… there was one thing Peter was disappointed about.
"Wait… aren't private jets supposed to have hot flight attendants?"
Where was the hot flight attendant?
Peter sighed. What a letdown.
Typical teenage boy.
He started poking around the cabin, curious about everything.
Meanwhile, Happy put the suitcase away, then slumped into a seat with a tired sigh.
Peter looked over and plopped down in the seat directly across from him.
Happy cracked an eye open. "You're sitting there?"
"Uh… is that a problem?" Peter asked, confused.
"Is this your first time on a private jet?"
"This is my first time on any jet."
Happy: Are you kidding me right now? This whole plane and you choose the seat right in front of me?
Annoyed by Peter's chatter, Happy got up and moved to the back of the cabin to escape.
"If you're that bored, take a look at that suitcase."
"Huh? The suitcase?"
Peter located the silver case in the overhead compartment.
"I can open it?"
"Yeah, yeah. It's yours. Do whatever you want with it. But I'd wait until we're in the air. The flight's six hours—you'll have plenty of time," Happy replied.
"Oh, okay." Peter quietly closed the latch and sat back down.
---
WHOOOSH!
The jet roared to life and lifted off the ground.
Peter's enhanced senses kicked in hard, and he went pale.
It felt like an earthquake… or a volcanic eruption… or a tsunami… or like Aunt May when she's really mad—
Okay, maybe not that last one.
But still. It was terrifying.
Eventually, the plane climbed into the stratosphere and smoothed out. The vibrations eased, and Peter's senses finally calmed down.
"Phew… Flying is scary…"
He shuddered, still rattled.
The sensation reminded him of the morning he first woke up with his powers.
He could hear everything—people jogging outside, mosquitoes buzzing in the ceiling, water flowing through the pipes.
His senses had exploded into a chaotic mess.
He had to hide under the covers for half an hour just to calm down.
He was late to school that day.
---
Peter took a deep breath and stood up.
Time to see what was in the suitcase.
He opened the overhead bin, pulled it out, and pressed the release latch.
With a soft click, the case opened…
Revealing a sleek, vibrant red-and-blue Spider-Man suit inside.
It looked like something out of a movie.
Made from some kind of unknown nanotech composite, the material felt ultra-smooth and premium. The design was incredibly sharp and stylish.
Forget his old DIY pajama suit.
Even the Shadow Spider-Man's black armor looked outdated compared to this masterpiece.
"This… this is really for me?" Peter could hardly believe it.
"Yeah. It's yours. The bathroom's in the back—go try it on if you want," Happy grumbled. "And keep it down, okay? I've been awake for almost 16 hours."
"Oh—sorry, Mr. Happy!"
Peter gently took the suit from the case and tiptoed past Happy into the back bathroom.
---
It was easier to put on than he expected.
Once it was on, all he had to do was tap the spider logo on his chest.
Whirr!
The suit tightened and perfectly molded to his body.
Peter stretched, jumped, twisted—every move felt smooth as butter.
The suit didn't restrict him at all.
In fact, it enhanced his movement.
It was amazing.
For the next few hours, while the jet flew toward Berlin, Peter spent his time bouncing around the cabin—jumping, flipping, climbing.
He didn't forget Happy's warning, though.
No matter how wild his movements got, he kept the noise to an absolute minimum.
Somehow, Happy slept through the whole thing.
And just like that, the plane touched down in Berlin.
—End of chapter—
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