Visions Academy – Morning
Miles Morales shot upright in bed, his sheets twisted around him like a cocoon. His hoodie clung tighter than usual, shoulders stretching against the fabric. He blinked down at his hands. Slightly bigger, fingers twitching with restless energy.
"...Did I hit puberty again overnight?" He muttered, stumbling to the mirror and beside him was Gankee Lee looking at Miles with shock and disgust.
The reflection wasn't lying. His frame had filled out, his skin buzzing with an electric tension, every sound sharper, every color brighter. His stomach twisted, excitement and dread all at once.
He barely had time to process before the alarm clock shattered under his grip.
"...Oh no. Ohhh no no no.... "
Visions Hallway – Later
Miles shuffled through the crowd, hoodie up, trying to hide the nervous energy that practically sparked off him. Then he saw her.
"Gwanda."
She was at her locker, casual, radiant, the one person who'd been nice to him since he landed in this pressure-cooker of a school. His chest tightened.
Just say hi. Normal hi. You can do hi.
"Hey." He started, voice cracking like a rusty hinge.
She turned, smiling faintly. "Miles. Good morning..."
And that's when it happened.
His hand latched onto her hair like glue. Not fingers tangling. Actual, biological suction.
"Wait... wait... no no no, I'm not... this isn't... " Miles stammered, pulling, only making it worse as Gwanda yelped.
"Let go!" She hissed, trying to yank away.
Students gathered. Phones came out. The scene devolved into a circus. Miles flailed, Gwanda growled, the hallway echoing with laughter and shouts while they went round round.
Finally, the staff dragged them both to the infirmary.
Visions Infirmary
The nurse's clippers buzzed. Some hair fell to the floor while most were stuck on Miles's hand. Gwanda sat rigid, jaw tight, fury and embarrassment radiating off her. The right side of her head now bore a palm-shaped bald patch.
Miles shrank in the chair beside her, whispering apologies at rapid-fire speed.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry...."
"Stop talking." Her voice was ice as she snapped her makeup mirror shut with a thud.
He shut up.
When she finally stood and walked out, heads turned in the hallways. Students whispered, laughed, pointed. She kept her chin high, eyes burning but every step screamed humiliation.
And that's when she bumped into someone.
A boy in Visions uniform, brown hair slightly messy, hazel eyes sharp behind glasses he clearly didn't need. He steadied her with one hand and it was firm.
"Sorry." He murmured softly, then stepped past.
But she froze.
For one brief second, his face tilted into the light. Not just similar, the same.
The same jawline. The same gleaming hazel eyes. The same smile she'd memorized years ago.
Peter. Her Peter.
Her heart lurched painfully in her chest. Guilt. Crushing, suffocating guilt flared up like fire in her veins. She wanted to scream, to demand how he could stand there, alive, when her Peter wasn't. But her throat locked, because that can't be Peter as there can't be two Peters.
By the time she blinked, he was already gone.
Visions Dorms – Gwen
Back in her dorm room, Gwanda dropped her bag, slammed the door, fell to her knees on the floor and finally let the tears come.
It wasn't just today. It was before. Old guilt resurfacing like a bruise that never healed. She remembered another Peter... her Peter... crushed under the weight of her arrogance and mistake.
Now this? A stranger's hand stuck to her hair, laughter echoing in the halls and a reminder that she couldn't outrun her past.
She curled on the bed, fingers grazing the shaved patch and whispered into the silence:
"I'm sorry, Peter. I'm so sorry."
Visions Computer Lab – Peter
Meanwhile, the boy who'd brushed past her was buried in work. Not homework. Not projects. He knew that he brushed past someone unexpected but it wasn't the time to have a heartfelt talk.
Lines of encrypted code flashed across the screen, Alchemax firewalls folding like paper under his integrated AI chip's assault.
He leaned back in the chair, whispering to himself. "If they're experimenting again, then this is the ignition point. The spider wasn't random."
Files flickered past: Project 42. Cross-Dimensional Bio-Weaving. Subject: Vanessa Fisk and Richard Fisk.
Then, without warning, the familiar chime of the System echoed in his mind.
[System Notification: User milestone achieved. Reward unlocked.]
[Armament Granted: Dominator, Psycho Pass (Unshackled Version).]
On-screen, a 3D blueprint unfolded: a sleek, gun-like device with shifting configurations, glowing with ominous energy signatures.
A black box materialized from nothing, revealing the weapon itself. Matte black, futuristic, its barrel pulsing blue with raw, hungry electromagnetic power.
[Image]
Peter's breath hitched. He picked it up, feeling the weight, the faint thrum in its frame.
[Notice: All civilian and ethical limiters removed. Full lethality authorized. Judgment left entirely to user discretion.]
His eyes narrowed. This wasn't just a tool. It wasn't a test. It was a reminder and the looming choice he has to make. A blade sharper than any sword one that cuts through morality itself.
He groaned and muttered.
" This is getting complicated."
No answer came. Only the steady, terrifying hum of the weapon.
Brooklyn Rooftops – Evening
Miles was a mess. His body spasmed with bursts of energy, hands sticking to walls, sneakers magnetizing to glass.
"Great." He muttered, hanging upside down from a window frame. "I'm a human glue stick."
He tried to pry himself off. His hand ripped free along with half the window decal. He winced.
"What is happening to me?!"
He stumbled across rooftops, tripping over his own feet, bouncing off vents, catching himself only to fall again and then his hands caught a bunch of pigeons which dragged him around the campus. His heart raced. His breaths came ragged.
"This isn't normal. I'm not normal—"
Invisible Watcher – Gwendolyn
From a shadowed ledge, cloaked in optical camouflage, Gwendolyn watched silently.
Her arms were folded, her helmet hiding a cringe as Miles tripped over a skylight, somersaulting into a trash heap.
"Oh no." She whispered. "That was me. That was literally me."
Her lips quirked, half sympathy, half secondhand embarrassment.
"He's going to break every bone in his body before the week's over."
But under the humor, she felt the tug of something else. Recognition. This kid wasn't just clumsy. He was stepping into a world neither of them had chosen.
And for better or worse, his web was now tangled with the city that never sleeps.
Read 33 chapters ahead on P.A.T.R.E.O.N
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