[MONDAY MORNING - MIDTOWN HIGH]
Peter woke up feeling like he could run a marathon, bench press a car, and solve quantum physics problems before breakfast. The symbiote's energy was flowing through him like electricity, making every sense sharper, every movement more precise.
YOU ARE ADAPTING WELL. OUR MERGER GROWS STRONGER DAILY.
Is this normal? I feel like I could fight a hundred people and not break a sweat.
YOUR POWER IS GROWING. EXPONENTIALLY. BY MY CALCULATIONS, YOU NOW POSSESS APPROXIMATELY 100 TONS OF LIFTING CAPACITY. DOUBLE WHAT YOU HAD THREE DAYS AGO.
That's... that's insane.
THAT IS EVOLUTION. YOU ARE BECOMING WHAT YOU WERE MEANT TO BE.
Peter showered, dressed, and made it to school early. Aunt May had already left for her shift, leaving a note about leftover pizza in the fridge and a reminder to actually eat vegetables occasionally. He smiled at her familiar handwriting, feeling a pang of guilt about all the secrets he was keeping.
Eventually, I'll have to tell her. But not yet. Not until I understand what I'm becoming.
The school hallways were relatively empty when Peter arrived. He headed to his locker, spinning the combination lock with enhanced precision—then immediately ripping the door off its hinges when he pulled too hard.
"Shit!" Peter looked around frantically. No one had seen. He carefully bent the hinges back into place, using his enhanced strength to make it look normal. The door hung slightly crooked, but hopefully no one would notice.
YOU MUST LEARN BETTER CONTROL. HUMAN ENVIRONMENTS ARE FRAGILE.
Working on it.
"Peter!"
He turned to see Gwen hurrying down the hallway, her face lit up with a smile that made his heart do complicated things. She was wearing a blue dress that matched her eyes, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders.
"Hey," Peter said, trying to sound casual despite his pulse quickening. "You look amazing."
Gwen's cheeks flushed pink. "Thanks. You look... different. Good different. Did you get taller?"
"Maybe? The symbiote's still changing me. Small adjustments." Peter glanced around, making sure they were alone. "How are you feeling about Saturday night? Any regrets about getting involved?"
"Are you kidding? That was the most incredible thing I've ever been part of." Gwen moved closer, lowering her voice. "We cured an incurable disease, Peter. We created a new form of life. We changed everything."
"We also turned Norman Osborn into a super-powered being. That could go really well or really badly."
"I'm choosing optimism." Gwen's hand found his, fingers interlacing. "Besides, we'll be there to guide him. To make sure the power is used responsibly."
SHE IS CORRECT. NORMAN OSBORN COULD BE DANGEROUS, BUT MONITORED AND ALLIED, HE IS AN ASSET.
Peter was about to respond when he noticed MJ watching them from down the hallway, her expression unreadable. She had her phone out, clearly taking notes about something.
"MJ's watching us," Peter murmured.
Gwen turned, waved. MJ approached, her combat boots making solid thuds against the linoleum.
"Parker. Stacy." MJ's eyes flicked between them, noting their joined hands. "So this is happening."
"Is that a problem?" Gwen asked, her tone carefully neutral.
"No. Just gathering information." MJ's expression softened slightly. "Actually, I wanted to talk to both of you. About the Oscorp situation. I've been digging deeper, and there are some things you need to know."
Peter's enhanced hearing picked up footsteps approaching—Flash Thompson and his friends, heading their way. "Not here. Lunch? We can grab a table in the back corner."
"Deal." MJ's phone buzzed. She checked it, frowned. "Interesting. Oscorp just issued a press release about Norman Osborn's 'miraculous recovery' from an undisclosed illness. They're calling it a breakthrough in experimental medicine."
"That was fast," Peter said.
"Damage control. Get ahead of the story before rumors spread." MJ was already typing. "But here's the thing—Oscorp's stock jumped 15% in pre-market trading. Someone's making money off this 'miracle.'"
HUMANS AND THEIR OBSESSION WITH CURRENCY.
It's how our society functions. For better or worse.
Flash's voice echoed down the hallway. "Hey, look! It's Puny Parker! And he finally got a girlfriend. What'd you do, threaten to bore her to death with science facts?"
Peter felt the symbiote surge with protective aggression. I COULD SILENCE HIM PERMANENTLY.
No. We don't hurt bullies. We ignore them.
But before Peter could respond, Gwen turned to face Flash with a smile that was all teeth and no warmth. "Flash. I wasn't aware you knew words with more than two syllables. 'Girlfriend' is three. Good job."
Flash's friends snickered. His face reddened. "Whatever, Stacy. You're just slumming until you realize what a loser Parker is."
"Or," MJ interjected, stepping forward with her notebook visible, "I could write a story about how Midtown's star quarterback has a 1.9 GPA and only maintains athletic eligibility because his parents donated a new gymnasium. Your choice."
Flash's expression shifted from anger to panic. "You wouldn't—"
"Try me." MJ's smile was sharp. "Pick your battles more carefully, Thompson."
Flash and his friends retreated, muttering insults that Peter's enhanced hearing caught but chose to ignore.
"Thanks," Peter said to both girls. "But you didn't have to—"
"Yes, we did," Gwen said firmly. "No one gets to talk to you like that."
YOUR MATES ARE PROTECTIVE. EXCELLENT.
They're not my 'mates.' We're just... dating. Maybe. It's complicated.
HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS ARE ALWAYS COMPLICATED.
The first bell rang, sending students scrambling to homeroom. Peter caught Ned's eye across the hallway—his best friend gave him a massive grin and double thumbs up, clearly having witnessed the whole exchange.
Homeroom was uneventful, though Peter noticed several students whispering and looking at him. Apparently, being seen holding hands with Gwen Stacy had elevated his social status from "invisible nerd" to "guy who somehow landed Gwen Stacy."
YOU ARE BEING OBSERVED. MULTIPLE INDIVIDUALS ARE MONITORING YOU.
It's high school. Everyone monitors everyone. It's basically surveillance culture with acne.
Chemistry class was more interesting. Peter and Gwen were lab partners, which meant an hour of working in close proximity while trying to focus on titration instead of the way she bit her lip when concentrating.
"So," Gwen said quietly while they waited for a reaction to complete, "we should probably talk about us. Define what this is."
"I'd like that." Peter checked their beaker—perfect color change—and recorded the results. "I really like you, Gwen. Have for a while. But my life is... complicated. The symbiote, the powers, the cosmic destiny thing—"
"Makes you more interesting, not less." Gwen's hand found his under the lab table. "Peter, I knew what I was getting into when I kissed you. I want to be part of this. Part of your life. However complicated it gets."
"Even if it gets dangerous?"
"Especially then. I'm not some damsel who needs protecting. I'm a scientist who wants to understand and help." Her blue eyes were intense. "We're partners. In all of this."
SHE WOULD MAKE AN EXCELLENT HOST.
Peter felt the symbiote's eagerness, its desire to create an offspring for Gwen. I COULD DESIGN SOMETHING PERFECT FOR HER. ENHANCE HER INTELLIGENCE FURTHER. GIVE HER ABILITIES THAT COMPLEMENT YOURS.
That's her choice to make. Not ours.
WHEN WILL YOU ASK HER?
When the time is right. Not in the middle of chemistry class.
Their teacher, Mr. Cobbwell, droned on about acid-base reactions while Peter's mind raced with possibilities. If Gwen bonded with a symbiote—if she became enhanced like him—they could work together more effectively. Be true partners in every sense.
But was that what she wanted? Or was he projecting his own needs onto her?
YOU OVERTHINK. HUMANS ALWAYS OVERTHINK.
It's called being considerate.
IT IS CALLED FEAR OF REJECTION.
Peter was saved from further internal argument by his phone vibrating in his pocket. He checked it discreetly—text from Harry: Dad wants to meet. After school. Oscorp Tower. Says it's important. You free?
Peter typed back: I'll be there.
Another text, this one from Norman directly: Mr. Parker. We need to discuss your capabilities in detail. Also have questions about the symbiote. 4pm, my office. Come alone initially—we'll bring in others later. -NO
THE HEALER WISHES TO UNDERSTAND HIS TRANSFORMATION.
Can't blame him. I'd have questions too.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of classes Peter barely paid attention to. His enhanced mind could absorb information effortlessly now—he'd memorized the entire history textbook just by flipping through it once. School was becoming simultaneously easier and more frustrating. Why sit through lectures about things he already understood?
PATIENCE. YOU MUST MAINTAIN NORMAL APPEARANCE. DRAWING ATTENTION IS DANGEROUS.
I know. Doesn't make it less boring.
Lunch period finally arrived. Peter, Gwen, MJ, and Ned claimed a table in the back corner of the cafeteria, away from eavesdroppers.
"Okay," MJ said, pulling out her laptop. "We need to talk strategy. I've been digging into Oscorp's background, and there are some seriously disturbing patterns."
She pulled up a document, kept her voice low. "Over the past year, Oscorp has acquired six smaller biotech companies. All of them were working on genetic enhancement, viral delivery systems, or alien biology. Someone at Oscorp is building a program."
"For what?" Ned asked, leaning in.
"That's the question. But here's what I found: three months ago, Oscorp received a classified shipment from a government facility. No manifest, no paperwork trail, but I found dock workers who remember it. They said it looked like a containment unit."
THE ORIGINAL VENOM SYMBIOTE. THAT IS WHEN THEY ACQUIRED ME.
"That's when they got Venom," Peter said quietly. "The symbiote they were studying. Someone in the government had it, sold it to Oscorp."
"Right. And Norman Osborn immediately pivoted all his research toward genetic therapy. Why?" MJ's eyes were sharp. "I think he was already sick. I think he knew he was dying, and he was desperately searching for a cure. The symbiote was his Hail Mary."
"But he didn't know it would work," Gwen added. "He was experimenting, testing on animals first. Those enhanced spiders were part of the research."
"And one of them bit Peter," Ned finished. "Giving him what Norman wanted—a cure, plus powers."
MJ nodded. "Here's where it gets complicated. The Oscorp board doesn't know about Norman's cure. As far as they're concerned, he's in remission through conventional treatment. But they do know the symbiote research was producing results. And now that Norman's 'recovered,' the board is pushing to fast-track human trials."
"They want to create more enhanced humans," Peter said, feeling cold. "Turn the symbiote into a product."
"Exactly. And if they find out what you are, what you can do—"
"They'll try to replicate it. Patent it. Weaponize it." Peter's hands clenched. "We can't let that happen."
AGREED. THE KLYNTAR ARE NOT WEAPONS. WE ARE PARTNERS. FORCING BONDS IS VIOLATION.
"So what do we do?" Ned asked. "We can't exactly fight a billion-dollar corporation."
"We prepare," Peter said. "I meet with Norman this afternoon. Find out what he knows about the board's plans. Meanwhile, MJ, keep digging. Find out who's pushing the human trials. Who stands to profit."
"On it." MJ was already typing. "I've also been tracking unusual activity around the city. There's been an uptick in high-tech robberies. Someone's stealing cutting-edge equipment—genetic sequencers, viral synthesizers, nano-tech components."
"You think it's related?" Gwen asked.
"Too coincidental to ignore. Someone's building something. Either they're trying to replicate Oscorp's research, or they're preparing for something bigger."
THERE ARE OTHER PLAYERS. OTHER FORCES MOVING IN THE SHADOWS.
The bigger world is noticing us.
"I've also been monitoring news about enhanced individuals," MJ continued. "Tony Stark's been quiet since his 'I am Iron Man' announcement, but there are rumors of other people with abilities appearing. A green rage monster in Harlem. Reports of a guy with a shield doing vigilante work. The world is changing."
"Heroes are emerging," Gwen said softly. "And villains too, probably. The age of enhanced individuals is beginning."
"Which means we need to be ready," Peter said. "The Web needs to grow. We need more people we can trust, more resources, more training."
Ned grinned. "So basically, we're forming our own superhero team. This is the coolest thing ever."
"This is the most dangerous thing ever," MJ corrected. "But yeah, also cool."
Peter's phone buzzed. Text from an unknown number: Stop investigating Oscorp. This is your only warning. -A Friend
He showed it to the others. MJ's expression hardened.
"Well, that's not ominous at all," Ned said.
"Someone's watching us," MJ said. "Someone who knows what we're doing."
THREAT. WE SHOULD IDENTIFY AND ELIMINATE—
No eliminating. We identify and assess. Then decide.
"Everyone needs to be careful," Peter said. "Watch for tails. Don't talk about this stuff on unsecured lines. And if anything seems wrong—anything at all—contact the group immediately."
They exchanged numbers, set up an encrypted chat group. The lunch bell rang, sending students shuffling to afternoon classes.
Gwen caught Peter's hand as they stood. "Be careful at Oscorp. Norman might be grateful now, but he's still a businessman. Don't tell him anything that could be used against you."
"I won't." Peter squeezed her hand. "Meet up tonight? We should talk more. About us. About everything."
"My place. Seven. Dad's working late." Gwen's smile was soft. "We'll have privacy."
EXCELLENT. PRIVACY IS OPTIMAL FOR BONDING RITUALS.
It's not a bonding ritual!
IT IS EXACTLY A BONDING RITUAL.
Peter made it through his afternoon classes in a distracted haze, his mind spinning through possibilities and threats. By the time the final bell rang, he was wound tight with nervous energy.
Ned walked with him to the subway. "Dude, are you sure about this? Going to Oscorp alone? Norman might be cured, but he's still kind of terrifying."
"I need to do this. We need him as an ally, which means building trust." Peter checked his phone—3:47pm. "Besides, I'm not exactly defenseless anymore."
"True. You could probably bench press the building." Ned hesitated. "Peter, promise me something. If this goes wrong, if Oscorp tries something—promise you'll get out. Don't try to be a hero."
"Ned—"
"I'm serious. You're my best friend. I don't want to lose you because you tried to save everyone."
Peter felt warmth in his chest. "I promise. If it goes bad, I run. And I contact you immediately."
"Good." Ned pulled out his phone. "I've been working on something. An app. It's connected to your phone's GPS. If you press the power button three times fast, it sends an emergency signal to me, Gwen, and MJ with your exact location."
"That's... actually brilliant."
"I know." Ned grinned. "I'm your guy in the chair, remember? This is what I do."
They parted at the subway station, Ned heading home and Peter toward Manhattan. The train was crowded with evening commuters, everyone absorbed in phones or exhaustion. Peter found a corner, pulled out his own phone, and reviewed what he knew about Norman Osborn.
Brilliant scientist. Ruthless businessman. Loving father. Desperate survivor.
A complicated man who'd just been given incredible power.
YOU ARE CONCERNED HE WILL ABUSE HIS ABILITIES.
I'm concerned anyone with power might abuse it. That's human nature.
THEN WHY GIVE HIM POWER?
Because the alternative was letting him die. And because we need allies. People who can fight when the darkness comes.
YOU BELIEVE HE WILL FIGHT BESIDE US?
I believe he'll fight to protect Harry. And right now, that's enough.
Oscorp Tower loomed ahead, all chrome and glass and corporate power. Peter showed his ID at security—Harry had added him to the approved visitors list—and rode the elevator to the executive floor.
Norman's office was exactly what Peter expected: massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan, expensive furniture, and walls covered with patents and awards. Norman stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back, wearing an impeccable suit.
"Mr. Parker." Norman turned, and Peter was struck by how different he looked. The gray pallor was gone, replaced by healthy color. He stood straighter, moved with fluid confidence. "Thank you for coming."
"You said it was important."
"It is. Sit, please." Norman gestured to a leather chair, then sat across from Peter. "I've spent the past 48 hours exploring my new abilities. Testing limits. Understanding what you gave me."
"Anti-Venom."
"Yes. The white symbiote. It's remarkable, Peter. I can heal injuries in seconds. Cure diseases with a touch. I've been through my medical records, checking every chronic condition I'd accumulated over the years—all gone. Completely erased." Norman leaned forward. "But there's more. I can sense illness in others. I was in a board meeting this morning, and I could tell that Jenkins has early-stage pancreatic cancer. He doesn't know yet—the symptoms haven't manifested. But I could feel it."
THE HEALER SYMBIOTE IS FUNCTIONING AS DESIGNED. IT SENSES DISEASE, DRIVES THE HOST TO CURE.
"That's... that's incredible," Peter said. "You could save thousands of people."
"Millions, potentially. Which brings me to why you're here." Norman's expression turned serious. "The Oscorp board is pushing to weaponize the symbiote research. They want to create super-soldiers, sell enhancements to the military, turn human augmentation into a product line. I've been stalling, but they're getting impatient."
"Can't you just shut down the program?"
"I'm CEO, but I don't have absolute power. The board can override me if they have enough votes. And several members have significant military contracts—they see dollar signs." Norman stood, began pacing. "I need to destroy the remaining symbiote samples. All of them. Erase the research data. Make sure no one else can replicate what we did."
"Won't they just acquire more? If there are other symbiotes out there—"
"There are. I've been monitoring reports. The government has at least two more specimens in containment facilities. Private collectors probably have others. But if I destroy Oscorp's samples and research, it sets back their timeline by years. Gives us time to prepare."
HE SEEKS TO PROTECT THE KLYNTAR. ADMIRABLE.
"What do you need from me?" Peter asked.
"Help. The samples are in a secure facility—sublevel 3, maximum security. I can get us access, but I need your abilities to ensure we get everything. No traces left behind." Norman met Peter's eyes. "I'm asking you to help me commit corporate sabotage against my own company."
Peter considered. This was a risk. If they were caught, the consequences would be severe. But if they succeeded, they'd prevent the Klyntar from being turned into weapons.
"I'll help. But I need guarantees."
"Name them."
"First, Harry gets the preventative treatment. Soon. Before anyone else notices the research is gone."
"Agreed. This weekend."
"Second, you use your healing abilities to help people. Really help them. Not for profit, not for recognition. Because it's right."
"I can do that."
"Third, if we're building The Web—if we're creating a team—you follow my lead on moral decisions. We don't hurt innocents. We don't compromise ethics for expediency. We do things the right way."
Norman studied him for a long moment. Then, surprisingly, he smiled. "You're fifteen years old and you're dictating terms to a billionaire CEO. That takes courage." He extended his hand. "Deal. We do things your way."
They shook. Peter felt the white symbiote's presence through the contact—curious, protective, aligned with Norman's genuine desire to help.
HE MEANS IT. THE HEALER HAS CHANGED HIM. MADE HIM BETTER.
Let's hope it lasts.
"When do we do this?" Peter asked.
"Tonight. Midnight. The security changeover happens then—gives us a three-minute window. Harry will provide tech support, kill the cameras. You and I go in, destroy everything, get out clean."
"What about the board? Won't they investigate?"
"I'll blame it on corporate espionage. Claim a competitor stole and destroyed the research to prevent Oscorp from gaining an advantage. They'll be furious, but they'll buy it. Especially if I make it look convincing."
Peter nodded slowly. "Okay. I'm in."
"Good." Norman pulled out a tablet, showed detailed schematics. "Here's the facility layout. Three security checkpoints, biometric locks, armed guards. The samples are in here—" he pointed to a secured vault, "—kept at exactly -80 degrees Celsius. We'll need to destroy both the physical samples and the digital backups."
They spent an hour planning, going over every detail. Peter was impressed despite himself—Norman was meticulous, thinking through every contingency. This was a man who'd built an empire through careful planning and ruthless execution.
HE WOULD MAKE A FORMIDABLE ENEMY. BETTER TO KEEP HIM AS ALLY.
Agreed.
At 5:30, Peter checked his phone. Text from Gwen: Still meeting at 7? I have dinner ready. Dad's definitely working late. It's just us. ❤️
Heat flooded Peter's chest. Dinner. Alone. With Gwen.
MATING RITUAL PROCEEDS.
It's not—okay, fine. It's basically a date.
"I need to go," Peter said, standing. "I'll be back at 11:30. Meet you in the parking garage?"
"Perfect. And Peter?" Norman's expression was sincere. "Thank you. For everything. For saving my life. For trusting me. I won't let you down."
"See that you don't."
Peter left Oscorp Tower feeling the weight of what they were about to do. Corporate sabotage. Destroying evidence. If they were caught, he could be charged as an adult—enhanced abilities didn't exempt him from the law.
But it was the right thing to do. The Klyntar deserved protection. People deserved protection from being forcibly bonded or weaponized.
YOU GROW INTO YOUR ROLE. INTO YOUR POWER.
I'm trying.
YOU ARE SUCCEEDING.
Peter headed back to Queens, his mind already shifting to the evening ahead.
Dinner with Gwen. A real date. Just the two of them.
He was definitely more nervous about that than the upcoming heist.
TO BE CONTINUED...