Sunday— April 10th, 2011.
DOCKS, ABANDONED RESIDENCE.
10-O’CLOCK-PM.
[Calling: Aunt Mae]
[Beep, Beep, Beep]
[“Who is this?” asked the other person from the line, it was a masculine and totally unfamiliar voice. “Wait, this number looks familiar. It is that kid again! Is this a prank call? For the umpteenth time, I beg you, stop!]
Ugh… It was disgusting, in fact, self-loathing was eating at him.
This wasn’t Brooklyn, or some planet, or some field trip. This was real, and it had hurt him knowing there was no going back.
Peter Parker, also known as Spider-Man, sat on the edge of a rooftop, his legs dangling over the edge as he stared out at the city below. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the skyscrapers and buildings, but Peter couldn't find any peace in the beautiful scenery. His mind was consumed with thoughts of the recent events that had turned his life upside down.
He remembered the day he had cried into Tony Stark's arms, the day when his ‘peter-tingle’ had gone haywire sending him alarms all over his body, flooding him with an unquantified amount of dread. Mantis must have felt it worse, as some kind of empath, she might have felt the pain of the universe while it happened. Peter had watched helplessly as everyone disintegrated into dust, along with half of the universe. He knew what was happening, and he was sure of it. And then, he too had turned to dust, his last thought being that of despair and how he had failed to protect the people he cherished.
It was a bitter experience unlike any other. Peter had the Infinity Gauntlet on his fingers, and he only needed to pull with one last oomph, and they would have deprived Thanos of his weapon. But they lost, and the universe cried— and Peter sure did hear it with his body.
But then, the next thing he knew, he was back on Earth at an unfamiliar place called Brockton Bay. The snap had been reversed, and he was alive again— that was what he thought, wished, but he was gravely wrong for there was more… This wasn’t the same Earth he knew.
Peter quickly realized that things were not the same. His Iron Spider suit all thanks to some Asian dude with rage issues, left him with only half of what his armor used to be. He had lost his tech, his gadgets’ more precious functions, and most importantly, his confidence. Not to boot, it was 2011 when it should be 2017 which spoke of how ‘out of place’ he was.
Peter let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his hands over his face. He still couldn't believe that he was alive again. It all felt like a dream. But the constant ache in his heart reminded him that it was all too real. He missed Mr. Stark, Aunt May, Ned, and MJ… He missed his suit. He missed feeling like a superhero.
Yet... He slept like a log that night, making himself comfortable on his web-crafted hammock at an abandoned residence. “Good night, Karen,” he addressed the Artificial Intelligence housing the inner suit, but he knew it wouldn’t reply back given that he had lost the helm part of his fabric-based suit.
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Monday— April 11th, 2011.
STILL IN THE DOCKS.
6:10 AM.
Morning came, and Peter had nothing except the internet which he easily accessed via his nanotech-based suit’s helmet. PHO was interesting and had taught him everything he needed to know about this world, affirming the fact that perhaps he was really in an entirely different universe or world whatever worked.
It had been 26 hours since he came to this world, and he had learned so much so fast.
As he sat there lost in his thoughts, he suddenly felt that familiar tingle. It was a kind of precognition that he thought he'd only feel when he was in direct danger. But this time, it was different. He felt a sense of danger on behalf of another person which had never happened before.
Without hesitation, Peter leaped off the rooftop and began swinging through the abandoned docks. He followed the tingling sensation, his super instinct leading the way. He eventually found himself at the far end of the docks, where he recalled he just received a beating from a certain dragon... to be fair, he was forced to retreat, and it was actually him who gave the beating: not that he he came out of it unscathed.
The warehouses and residential buildings around were all abandoned, adding to the eerie atmosphere.
Peter landed on a rooftop and peered down, trying to figure out where the ‘signal’ was coming from. That's when he saw her - a young girl dressed in a makeshift all-black costume, lying prone from another rooftop and seemingly peeping on something.
How did Peter know the costumed gal was a young girl? Well, the ‘Peter-tingle’ clued him again which was weird… The curly long hair of the other person and her shape was also very indicative of her gender. “Very curious, what is she up to? Was she the one sending me the signal? Er… Weird way to put it…”
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Monday— April 11th, 2011.
LUNG’S BAD DAY.
6:15 AM.
Lung, the notorious boss of ABB, had built his empire on fear and violence. His casino, located in the heart of his territory, was known for its illegal activities and was a major source of income for Lung and his gang. But today, everything has changed. His casino had been robbed by a group of rambunctious teen parahumans who called themselves Undersiders.
And to make matters worse, Lung had been humiliated by an unknown cape most recently.
Yesterday had been hellishly annoying for Lung. His bottled frustration and anger threatened to overflow and engulf everyone with his flames. He needed to vent his anger and take revenge. He called all his minions to a small residential area where he had set up his converging point. As they gathered around him, Lung's eyes glinted with rage.
“Listen up, my loyal minions,” he growled, his voice trembling with anger. “We have been robbed by a group of kids. They dared to steal from us and get away with it. But we won't let them get away with it, will we?”
The goons echoed a resounding yes, their eyes filled with bloodlust. They were ready to do Lung's bidding, no matter how brutal it may be. Lung smirked, pleased with their response.
“Good,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “I want those kids dead. And I want it done with brutality. Show them what happens when you cross me.”
The goons cheered, eager to please their boss. Money was good and important, but reputation and image would take higher priority. It galled Lung that someone dared steal from him.
Never again!
“I want that spider-guy dead too,” he snarled, his fists clenched in rage. “He dared to humiliate me, and I won't rest until he's dead.”
Lung felt so angered that he could feel his body transforming. His skin turned scaly, and his hair grew in length. His minions stepped back, knowing that their boss was about to unleash his full power. But Lung didn't care. He wanted to skip a few steps and unleash his destructive transformation in seconds.
It was a subconscious transformation, he was that angry.
Lung's rage-filled tirade was abruptly interrupted as swarms of insects flooded into the room, overwhelming him and his minions. Lung's initial surprise quickly turned into fury as he unleashed torrents of flames in an attempt to fend off the onslaught. The air crackled with heat as the insects burned, but it was too late for many of his subordinates.
Amidst the chaos, Lung could hear the agonized screams of his men as they writhed in pain from the stinging bites and possible venom of the relentless creatures. Lung's scaly form trembled with anger and frustration as he struggled to regain control of the situation.
"Motherfucker?!" Lung roared, his voice reverberating through the room. But the insects continued their relentless assault, seemingly undeterred by his threats.
As Lung fought off the swarm, his mind raced with thoughts of vengeance. Whoever was behind this would pay dearly for daring to cross him. “Fuck! Fuck! This was the third time someone dared challenge me! Fuck!”
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Monday— April 11th, 2011.
TAYLOR WAS SUICIDAL.
6:18 AM.
Have you ever seen a man explode and transform into a creature of fire?
Taylor had the opportunity to witness one, metaphorically a front-row seat, from the roof where her obscure figure crouched as low as possible while she peeped… And it was nerve-wracking… She hissed at the sight of the Dragon of Kyushu destroying the bugs that she summoned to attack him. It would have been painful, but Lung’s flames were no joke.
Lung’s oriental features warped into an angry scowl as the flames from his hands burned as if they were about to melt his very flesh, but no… The flames only grew stronger and stronger as Taylor mentally ordered more bugs to helplessly throw themselves to the big bad boss of the Asian gang demographic.
No matter how Taylor could rationalize her ‘stupidity’ of attacking what was perhaps among the few big hitters Brockton Bay had to offer, it was a fact she just had antagonized a cape who was literally fueled by anger and frustration. So of course, her sending bugs at him was sure to give him power-up instead.
As she remained in hiding, Taylor deliberated on the choices available to her: it was an easy decision actually. She needed to escape.
For Taylor, her powers to control bugs were lame, but that was life for you— you deal with the cards you have. While it might appear Taylor was not showing much in terms of emotion, she was inwardly panicking, but it was as quickly crushed by a stronger sense of self-preservation.
Despite her shortcomings and recklessness, she was sincere of heart that she only wanted to be a superhero— but truthfully while hard to admit, she was just making an excuse.
Taylor Anne Hebert was suicidal, not in an obvious sense… but she sure needed saving. The bullying had been terrible, and out of perhaps a clinging impulse, she thought maybe she could do better by playing Hero… Things went on, it accumulated, and now she was here.
Carefully, she picked herself up, but before she could even transition to a run… she felt Lung’s powerful presence with overwhelming heat approaching her from under the roof. Taylor had always been a survivor, so yes, she wouldn’t just die here. With wide eyes that spoke of fear… and maybe a touch of ‘heroic’ desire to prove herself, Taylor moved— she took a pepper spray and waited.
Lung pierced through the roof, his monstrous jagged arms looking more like barnacles seeping with condensed heat that would easily make her suffer from burns so bad she’d wish herself dead.
The first sign Taylor caught Lung’s head, she blasted her pepper spray at Lung’s face only to miss and hit his burning shoulders, which imploded into a fireball. Taylor flinched and ran because her life depended on it.
Lung’s power was said to need a ‘charging time’, so that should allow her some breathing space to run.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the same ‘Worm’ that everyone knew.
Compared to what it should have been, the current Lung was verily angrier than usual.
Taylor's heart pounded in her chest as she raced with her life on the line, her breathing was ragged with fear and mental exertion, yet there was a level of stability in her mind ensuring she stayed on track. She cursed herself for her foolishness, for antagonizing a cape as dangerous as Lung. But there was no time for self-pity or regret now.
As she sprinted, Taylor glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see the fiery behemoth hot on her heels. However, what she saw made her blood run cold. Lung wasn't just chasing her on foot; he had transformed into something far more terrifying with draconic wings jutting from his back.
Lung's voice echoed through the narrow alleyways, filled with rage and menace. "I will end you, puny insect!"
Taylor's mind churned as she tried to make sense of the situation. Lung had never demonstrated the ability to ‘change’ this fast before. What had triggered this sudden and quick transformation? And more importantly, how was she going to survive?
"Shit," Taylor muttered under her breath, feeling the heat of the flames licking at her heels. Sweat poured down her back as she pushed herself to run faster. At this very second, she envisioned it: death by flames.
#Spidey Sense being Cute #Taylor's Debut
