Peter POV:
When I woke up, I wasn't dead.
Good news.
Bad news — I was in a hospital bed, both legs in casts with Gwen sitting right next to me. She looked like hell. Her blonde hair messy, dark circles under her eyes, hoodie pulled up, calloused hands tapping nervously against her knee.
I stirred my upper body and a strong hand held me down. It was Gwen's. "You're awake." She said softly. Relief washing over her haggard face.
I nodded. "Guess I am. Didn't think I'd make it."
Her jaw tightened. "You almost didn't. You flatlined once. I… I thought...."
"Hey." I interrupted gently. "No ugly crying, Spider-Woman. You'll ruin your edgy aesthetic."
She glared, but the corner of her mouth twitched. "Shut up, nerd."
There was no malice in her voice just endearment when she called me nerd. For the first time in my life, I truly felt whole.
And then the system booted up.
[DING!]
> TEMPLATE SYSTEM INITIALIZED.
Loading Completed Template: JOHN WICK (100%)
…
REWARD PACKAGE GRANTED:
– Militech 'Falcon' Sandevistan MK.V Blueprint (Perfected)
– Regeneration Serum Formula (Self-Repairing Cellular Regeneration speed enhancer formula. Permanent)
– Stark Industries Fabricator (Mechanical-Only currently, Location: Home Basement)
– AI neural integration Core. (Codename: Clanker)
"Oh no…" I muttered under my breath.
"What?" Gwen asked, frowning.
"Nothing. Just… I think I just became Baba Yaga."
"What?"
"Long story. Very long story. Probably involves a lot of caffeine and spite."
That night, when Gwen finally went home and Aunt May fell asleep in the visitor's chair, the AI chip implanted itself into the base of my neck with a soft hiss and merged with my nervous system.
> Clanker Online. Good evening, Reinhard or should I call you Peter?
"Holy crap, it worked."
> Indeed. Your template completion has been confirmed. Combat instincts, weapon familiarity and situational awareness have been fully integrated. Congratulations, you are now officially terrifying.
"Can I request a puppy just to protect it out of spite?"
> Statistically, yes. But first, we have work to do.
The next six months were… productive.
I read everything I could find in Anna's archives about subjects of science. Nuclear physics refresher? Done. Bioengineering, chemistry, metallurgy, cybernetics, criminology? Done. For fun, I threw in a couple of cookbooks and a book on carpentry, because why not. In this life I'm a natural born genius while in my past life I was a persistent little fucker who would learn things with caffeine and spite. Combine those traits, you get 20 times the more genius.
> -_- That's not how math works.
" Fuck off."
When Gwen visited (which was often), she'd catch me scribbling formulas on notepads or thinking hard about something.
"You're supposed to be resting, Peter." She'd say, arms crossed. Her right eyebrow raised, showcasing her displeasure.
"This is me resting. What, you think being a genius is possible without hard work?"
"You literally turned into a giant lizard last time."
"Okay, fair. But the science was pretty good considering that I only had my dad's unfinished formula and a high school chemistry lab. Pretty genius right?" I asked with a smug/shameless expression. Gwen lets out a groan and mutters, " Why's my nerd so weird?" " Not weird. I'm a genius and you're a rockstar." I say while making air guns towards her. " Please, I quit another one due to my unique circumstances." Says Gwen. " The menstrual cycle is a girl's step towards woman hood. No shame in that Gwen." I say sagely and that joke earns me a slap on my head. " Gross." Says Gwen while trying to hide her smile behind a pretend disgusted face. Our everyday banter made my life feel more wholesome by the day.
She kept visiting and sometimes she'd bring her drumsticks and tap out beats on the side of my bed while I ranted about nuclear physics. It became our weird little ritual. Lieutenant Stacey also came to visit a few times but left as quickly.
"You know." She said one evening, spinning a drumstick between her fingers, " When you get out of here, you're going to be one snarky smartass."
"That's the plan but for the time being I want to be a little mundane." I answered. " Good choice." Supported Gwen.
Meanwhile, Uncle Ben visited every other day, quietly reading the newspaper at my bedside.
"You're taking this awfully well." I remarked one afternoon.
He shrugged. "You've always been stubborn in your own way like your dad, Pete. This—" he gestured at the casts— "isn't going to stop you."
"You're not even going to give me the 'with great power comes great responsibility speech?"
He chuckled. "No. You already know it by heart. You wouldn't be scribbling equations at 3 AM if you didn't."
When I was finally discharged, I rolled out of the hospital like a king in his chariot.
"Careful there, Baba Yaga." Gwen teased.
"Please. I am the Wheelman." I said, pulling a sharp 90° drift just to make her laugh.
That night, as soon as everyone was asleep, I made my way to the basement where I had to crawl myself there so as not to wake up uncle Ben and aunt May. I went to a corner of the basement and pressed a brick. The wall split into two.
There it was: my Stark Industries Fabricator, glowing faintly like a sleeping god.
> Blueprint loaded: Sandevistan MK.V.
Estimated construction time: 14 hours. There was enough materials for a Sandevistan but I needed more stuff to build other stuff.
"Perfect." I whispered. "We'll make the Sandevistan first, then figure out the chemical synthesis for the Regen serum once I can actually move properly in this wheelchair without sounding like a bag of broken bones."
> Advisory: Until then, you remain physically fragile.
I grinned. "Yeah. But not for long."
Read ahead on P.A.T.R.E.O.N
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