"Do you know where he is now?"
The moment Mark heard the word "nerd," a name instantly clicked in his mind.
'It has to be Peter Parker.' In every universe, in every timeline he could recall, if there was one brilliant but socially awkward kid at the top of his class, it was Peter.
Without a second thought, Mark reached over to a nearby decorative tree, his fingers deftly plucking a single green leaf. He cupped it in his palm, murmuring a near-silent incantation. A soft shimmer of light pulsed from his hand, and when he opened it again, the leaf had transformed into a perfectly formed red rose, its petals still dewy. He held it out to the blonde girl, a charming smile on his face.
"A small token to mark our first meeting."
The girl's, Lily's, eyes widened in astonishment, a delighted gasp escaping her lips. She took the flower carefully, her fingers brushing against his.
"WOW, you can do magic!" she exclaimed, her previous question momentarily forgotten in her excitement.
"That's amazing! Um, I don't know where Peter is right now, but my best friend probably does. She's had a massive crush on that nerd for ages."
She turned, her eyes scanning the students milling around the school entrance. She spotted her target and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Jessica! Hey, Jessica, come over here for a second!"
A slim, dark-haired girl broke away from her group and jogged towards them, a curious expression on her face. "What's going on, Lily?"
"This guy," Lily said, gesturing to Mark with the rose, "is looking for that nerd Peter Parker. Do you know where he might be?"
Jessica's brow furrowed in mild annoyance at the term.
"Lily, stop calling him a nerd. Peter's actually brilliant. Besides, something happened earlier. He got into it with Thompson in the hallway, and he absolutely floored him." A ghost of a proud smile touched her lips as she spoke.
Lily let out a disbelieving laugh. "You're joking! Peter Parker? He beat up Mary Jane's boyfriend? Thompson is like a whole head taller and captain of the football team!"
"I'm not kidding," Jessica insisted, crossing her arms. Her voice was firm. "A bunch of students saw it happen. Right after that, Peter just… ran out of the school. He looked completely freaked out. No one's seen him since."
Mark stood silently, processing the new information. His mind raced, sorting through the countless versions of the Spider-Man story he knew from his past life.
'So MJ is dating Flash Thompson. That rules out a few timelines. The fight in the hallway… this feels very familiar. It's not the 'Ultimate' universe, and it's definitely not the '616' main continuity. This has the distinct flavor of the Tobey Maguire version. If that's right, then Peter must have been bitten very, very recently. He's probably just as confused and scared as he is excited.'
That realization spurred him into action. He couldn't afford to waste any more time. He gave the girls a quick, apologetic smile and turned, jumping back onto his motorcycle.
"I've got to run. I'll treat you both to lunch some other time to make up for it!"
He revved the engine, and with a final wave, sped off down the school's driveway.
"Aww, I forgot to ask for his number," Lily sighed wistfully, watching the motorcycle disappear around the corner.
Jessica rolled her eyes, though a small smile played on her lips. "I'll ask Peter next time I see him. Who knew that nerd had such interesting friends?"
"Shallow," she muttered under her breath, turning back toward the school.
Riding through the bustling city streets, Mark weaved through traffic, his gaze constantly scanning the rooftops. 'Jessica… that name sounds familiar. Where have I heard it before in this context?' he mused, pushing the thought aside to focus on the task at hand. 'If Peter just discovered his powers, he wouldn't be hiding in an alley. He'd be testing his limits. He'd be somewhere high up.'
Then he spotted him.
"Found him."
His enhanced eyesight, a gift from his own unique circumstances, locked onto a figure leaping with uncoordinated but joyful abandon across the rooftops of a quieter industrial district.
"Whooo! This is amazing!" Peter's gleeful shout was carried on the wind as he bounded from one building to the next, clearing four and five-meter gaps with astonishing ease. He was a blur of motion, a kid discovering he could fly. He didn't stop until he reached the edge of the docks along the East River, his chest heaving with exhilaration.
It had all started the day before. The school field trip to the Columbia University science exhibit felt like a lifetime ago. A strange, genetically modified spider had bitten him, and he'd gone home feeling dizzy and sick. He had collapsed into bed and slept a sleep so deep it was almost comatose.
When he woke up the next morning, the world had been reborn in high definition.
His nearsightedness was gone, replaced by vision so sharp he could read the license plate on a car a block away. His once-scrawny frame had filled out overnight, becoming lean and powerfully muscled, complete with a chiseled eight-pack he'd only ever seen in magazines. Then came the strength. He'd accidentally ripped the door off his closet and had to pretend it was already broken. His reflexes were on a hair-trigger, allowing him to sense a fly buzzing near his head before he even saw it. Time itself seemed to bend during moments of surprise, slowing to a crawl.
And then there were the hooks. Tiny, imperceptible organic barbs that could extend from his fingertips, allowing him to cling to any surface. Now, standing on the edge of a rooftop overlooking the river, he was ready to test the weirdest discovery of all.
"Go, web!" he yelled, flicking his wrist. Nothing happened.
"Fly, web, fly!" He tried a different pose, mimicking a rockstar. Still nothing.
"Come on, shoot already!"
"Activate!"
"Web, go!"
He flailed his arms in a series of increasingly awkward motions, muttering one silly catchphrase after another. Finally, a specific, almost twitch-like movement of his middle and ring fingers triggered the right reflex. A thick, white, and incredibly sticky strand of webbing shot from his wrist, soaring through the air and attaching itself to the metal arm of a dock crane across the street with a satisfying thwip.
Standing atop the six-story building, Peter stared at the web, his heart pounding. He grabbed hold of it with both hands, testing its strength. It felt stronger than steel cable. A reckless, exhilarating thought sparked in his mind. 'Can I actually… Can I swing to the other side of the street?'
"Here goes nothing!"
With a wild yell, he took a running leap, throwing himself off the edge of the roof. For a terrifying second, he plummeted, but then the web caught his weight. He swung forward in a wide, breathtaking arc. The wind roared in his ears, and the city below became a dizzying blur. He soared over the road, a feeling of pure, unadulterated freedom washing over him. He was flying.
He landed on the opposite rooftop, but his victory was short-lived. He hadn't quite figured out the "landing" part of the equation. Still carrying all his momentum, he crashed face-first into a massive metal billboard with a sickening THUD.
"Ow! What the heck?"
He peeled himself off the sign, rubbing his nose and groaning. If any ordinary person had hit that sign at that speed, they'd be in a hospital, if they were lucky. For Peter, it was just a painful, jarring shock. His head was ringing, but nothing felt broken.
"You okay, Peter Parker?"
A calm voice spoke from behind him. A firm, steadying hand extended into his view.
"I'm fine. Thanks!" Peter said, taking the hand without thinking. He was pulled easily to his feet. He blinked, the fog in his head clearing, and looked at the person who had helped him. "Wait. How do you know my name? Have we met?"
"This is our first meeting. I'm Mark."
Mark offered a friendly smile, his grip firm but not crushing. Moments ago, he'd been watching from a nearby rooftop, observing Peter's first fumbling attempts at web-slinging. It was surreal, watching a legend take his first steps. It reminded Mark of his own childhood a lifetime ago, swinging a stick around and pretending it was a hero's sword.
"Nice to meet you, Mark. Do you go to my school?" Peter asked, giving him a curious glance. They looked to be about the same age.
"Reparo."
Mark made a subtle gesture towards Peter's school uniform, which was now torn at the shoulder and covered in grime from his crash. Instantly, the rips and dirt vanished. The fabric mended itself, looking freshly laundered and brand new.
Peter stared down at his fully repaired clothes, his jaw dropping in amazement.
"That's incredible… Are you a mutant?" He'd heard the stories, people born with special powers. But his own abilities hadn't come from birth. They came from that spider bite.
"Something like that," Mark nodded, not wanting to overwhelm him. He pointed across the street to a modest burger joint with a faded sign.
"Let's grab something to eat and talk things over. My treat."
"Sure. Sounds good to me," Peter agreed without hesitation. He didn't know who this guy was or how he knew so much. But something about his calm confidence told Peter that, for the first time since that spider bite, he wasn't alone in this.
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Chapter 73
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