Chapter 2: The City Playground
The wind rushed past Peter's ears as he soared through the air, his hoodie flapping wildly behind him.
He landed on the edge of a three-story apartment building, crouched low, the soles of his sneakers gripping the rough concrete like glue. A wide grin spread across his face.
This is insane, he thought. This is awesome!
Without hesitation, he sprinted across the rooftop and launched himself into the air. For a moment, he was weightless—floating high above the alley below. Then gravity kicked in, and his hands reached out, sticking to the next building like it was nothing.
He climbed in a blur and vaulted over the top.
Peter laughed—actually laughed—as he flipped mid-air to the next rooftop. His body moved effortlessly, no hesitation, no fear. Every jump felt like flying, every landing smoother than the last.
I feel like I could do this forever.
The city blurred beneath him—cars, people, honking horns—but he barely noticed. His focus was up here, among the rooftops, where nothing could touch him.
He dove into a roll, sprang back up, and kept running.
Brick wall—no problem. He ran straight up it and flipped backward to another rooftop.
Is this what adrenaline junkies feel like? he wondered, out of breath but exhilarated. Because I totally get it now.
At one point, he nearly overshot a gap between buildings—but a sudden tingle hit the back of his neck, and he twisted mid-air, landing just right.
That tingle again. That weird, buzzing sensation that warned him before something bad happened.
Peter paused on the ledge, breathing hard, grinning like an idiot.
"This is so much better than gym class."
Peter stood at the edge of a rooftop, catching his breath, hands on his knees. His chest rose and fell in rhythm with the wind brushing past his face. The city was alive beneath him—chaotic and loud—but from up here, it felt distant. Peaceful, almost.
He stepped closer to the edge, peering down at the street below.
Then he froze.
In the alley, halfway hidden behind a dumpster, two men were struggling. One of them—a man in a hoodie—shoved another against the wall. A flash of silver glinted in his hand.
Knife.
Peter's eyes narrowed. He saw the mugger grab the guy's wallet, pressing the blade to his chest.
Then, without warning, a memory hit him, something he desperately wanted to forget .
Flashback — A 10 years Ago
The garage smelled like motor oil and old cardboard. Uncle Ben wiped grease from his hands as Peter sat on the edge of the workbench, legs swinging.
Ben turned to him, unusually serious. "You know, kid... I think it's about time we had a little man-to-man talk."
Peter blinked. "Uh-oh. Is this the one about girls.
Ben chuckled softly, then shook his head. "Neither. This is the one about you."
He placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, steady and warm. "You're growing up, and you're smart. Smarter than I ever was. And someday... you're going to make it big real big with that big head of yours
Peter furrowed his brow. "Uncle ben don't tease me
"Im not teasing you," Ben smiled as he rubs Peter's head. "I mean the power to choose. To do the right thing. To be better than the world around you. And when that day comes..."
He paused. Looked him in the eyes.
"With great power comes great responsibility Peter, please always remember don't forget it ."
Flashback — 9 years Later
The store was dim, and Peter's stomach growled. He placed a sandwich and a bottle of water on the counter. He was short a few bucks. The cashier scowled, annoyed.
"You're off by 10 cents."
Peter sighed, pulling out the sandwich and sliding the water back. "Come on give me a break its 10 cents."
"Just leave the kid your holding up my line" the store clerk points at the door.
That's when the guy in the leather jacket barged in. he immediately went to bear section and grabbed a case of bear as peter was leaving he heard it
The guy in the leather jacket pushes down one of the display.
"Really dude come on" the store clerk bends down to pick it up
The leather jacket man grabs the cash in the cashrigtor but before he runs off he he throw peter a the six pack he left on the counter
Peter didn't say a word. Just left.
" Hey you going to do something " the store clerk runs out
" sorry not my policy " peter says then starts to walk away then he hears it
"Stop " peter hears uncle ben then he turns quickly just to see him get shot in the chest.
Back in the Present
Peter clenched his fists, the memory still replaying in his head over and over again. He pulled up his hood, took a breath, and jumped—landing hard on top of a dented dumpster with a loud THUD that echoed through the alley.
The mugger spun around, startled by the sound. His grip tightened on the victim's wallet as he looked up at the hooded figure standing above him.
"What the hell?" he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "Who are you supposed to be?"
Peter said nothing. His hood was pulled low, casting his face in shadow. He stepped down from the dumpster slowly, boots hitting the pavement with quiet finality.
The mugger squinted. "You think hiding your face makes you tough?"
Still no answer. Peter kept his head down, hands loose at his sides.
"Let him go," he said calmly, his voice low and controlled.
The mugger laughed, dry and mocking. "You serious? You don't even look old enough to shave."
Peter says.""Whoa—did you rob a cow farm first? You smell like crap."
The mugger scoffed
He pointed the blade toward Peter. "Fine. You wanna be a hero? Then I'll start by taking your cash."
Without another word, he lunged.
Peter didn't flinch. The moment the man moved, it was like everything slowed down. The knife came at him fast, but Peter was faster.
He ducked under the first swing. The blade cut through the air where his head had been a moment before. The mugger growled and slashed again—Peter sidestepped. A third swing—Peter leaned back casually, like it was a dance he already knew the steps to.
Frustrated, the mugger went for a final, desperate stab.
Peter caught his wrist mid-strike.
There was a sickening CRUNCH.
The mugger howled in pain, the knife clattering to the ground. He dropped to one knee, clutching his wrist.
Peter's eyes went wide. "Oh crap—did I...?"
He let go instantly, backing up, flustered. "I didn't mean to—I wasn't trying to..."
The guy on the ground moaned, rocking back and forth.
Peter looked over at the man who'd been mugged—still frozen, wide-eyed in shock.
"Call the cops," Peter said quickly, voice shaking slightly.
Then, without another word, he turned and sprinted toward the wall of the building. His feet hit the brick—and stuck. He climbed in seconds, disappearing into the shadows above.