New York — Manhattan Rooftops — A Few Moments Later
The flying man lands on a rooftop, breathing heavily with excitement.
He throws the bag onto the ground before rubbing his hands together.
— "This is incredible! Thanks to my intelligence, I managed to build myself equipment that lets me fly! Who else could've done something like this, huh? NOBODY! And now that Spider-Man's gone, I've got nothing to worry about! I can do whatever I want! I'M A GENIUS!"
He bursts into uncontrollable laughter like the Joker.
However, he suddenly stops when he hears a voice.
— "I gotta admit, that's pretty impressive!"
The Vulture jumps in surprise.
— "What?"
He spins around.
Spider-Man is crouching on a nearby ledge.
— "Seriously though, I really wonder how you managed to build something like that. You know, having wings like yours was my dream when I was a kid. Like that superhero... uh... what's his name again... oh yeah! Falco—"
— "Who are you?"
Spider-Man blinks in confusion.
— "Did you seriously just ask me that?"
He looks him up and down, and upon noticing the spider emblem on his chest, the Vulture finally understands.
— "Wait... no..."
— "So you call yourself a genius, but you can't even figure out that a guy dressed like me living in New York can only be Spider-Man?"
— "Y-You're Spider-Man?!"
— "Ah... never mind."
In a flash, Spider-Man fires a web that snatches the bag of money lying on the ground right at the Vulture's feet.
The criminal is instantly consumed by rage.
— "How?! Why?! Nobody's seen you for months, and now you suddenly come back the exact moment I decide to make my debut?! WHY?!"
— "You seem a little tense, man. Why don't you relax for a second?"
— "Relax...? No... I WANT TO KILL YOU!"
— "Just like everyone else..."
The Vulture charges toward him at full speed.
Spidey immediately reacts by firing a web straight into his face.
Blinded, the bird-like man slams full force into a brick wall right beside a small camera.
Peter's camera.
— "Oh crap, my camera! No!"
He rushes over in a panic to inspect the damage...
But fortunately, it isn't damaged at all.
— "I got lucky..."
He turns back toward the Vulture, who is now lying unconscious on the rooftop.
— "Hey... you okay, man?"
No response.
— "I hope he's alright..."
He neatly wraps him up in webbing before lowering him down to street level, right in front of several police officers.
— "Officer, here's one for you!"
But to his surprise, the officers immediately point their guns at him.
— "Spider-Man! Don't move!"
— "Huh?"
— "You're under arrest!"
— "What?! But why? I didn't do anything!"
— "You caused the death of former Police Captain George Stacy! You have to stand trial for it!"
The painful memories immediately come flooding back.
He remembers that the case is still ongoing.
His face hardens, and his jaw tightens with frustration and sadness.
He tries to explain as he slowly walks toward them.
— "Listen, I..."
But before he even has time to finish...
The officer fires directly at his head.
He barely dodges the shot.
— "Don't move any closer."
— "Alright... I get it."
In one swift motion, he fires two webs that pin both officers in place before launching himself into the air and escaping with incredible agility.
Below him, the Vulture still lies unconscious on the ground, tightly wrapped in webbing.
— "This case is far from over, Mr. Stacy..."
He climbs back onto the rooftop, retrieves his camera, then grabs the backpack he had left off to the side before racing toward the Daily Bugle at full speed.
New York — Daily Bugle — Day
Peter stormed into J. Jonah Jameson's office.
Without even greeting him, he firmly dropped a large envelope onto his desk.
— "What's this?"
— "Pictures of Spider-Man fighting a real supervillain. Just like you asked."
Jameson raised an amused eyebrow, as though Peter had just handed him a joke.
But the moment he opened the envelope and saw the photographs...
His expression changed.
He frowned.
— "These are fake."
— "No."
— "What do you mean, 'no'?!"
The Bugle's editor-in-chief stared intensely at the young man, hoping to make him look away.
Peter didn't even blink.
— "Mr. Jameson... you know they're real. So pay me."
A heavy silence filled the office.
Jonah clenched his jaw, irritated that he had no choice but to give in.
— "Fine."
He grabbed his checkbook, scribbled something down, tore out the check, and reluctantly handed it to Peter.
— "Now get out of my office."
Peter accepted the check with satisfaction.
But the moment his eyes landed on the amount...
He froze.
— "Wait... is this a joke? Five hundred dollars?! You said a thousand!"
He crossed his arms.
— "Don't forget you're still a kid. You don't need that much money. I'm already being generous giving you this much, so be grateful, you little brat."
— "But you said—"
— "GET OUT OF MY OFFICE, KID, OR YOU'RE FIRED!"
— "God damn it... AAAAAAH! You son of a...!"
Furious but completely powerless, Peter turned around and stormed out of the office.
He headed toward Betty Brant's desk to cash the check.
The moment she saw him, she immediately noticed the frustration written all over his face.
— "Hey, Peter... are you okay?"
— "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Thanks..."
He handed her the check rather curtly.
She silently processed it.
Peter took it back without another word before leaving the Daily Bugle without even looking back.
Parker House — Evening
The front door opened.
Peter walked inside looking exhausted and discouraged.
Gwen was sitting on the couch watching television.
— "Hey."
— "Oh, hey you! How are you? Did your day go well?"
— "Yeah... it was okay."
She stood up, walked over to him, and kissed him gently.
But she immediately sensed something was wrong.
— "Hey... what's with that face? What happened?"
They sat down side by side.
Clearly tired and frustrated, Peter told her everything.
— "I see... sounds like today really wasn't your day."
— "Yeah..."
— "But you know... no matter what other people believe... you know the truth. I know the truth. And my dad knew the truth too."
Comforted by her words, Gwen leaned against him, relaxing into the couch and using Peter's shoulder as a pillow.
Moved by what she said, Peter gently ran his fingers through her hair.
— "What about you? How was your day? Any better luck than mine?"
— "Much better. My boss isn't like yours."
A playful smile spread across her face.
— "He doesn't try to scam me."
Peter let out a laugh somewhere between genuine amusement and bitter disbelief.
— "Yeah... fair enough."
— "But don't let it get you down too much. Try looking on the bright side."
— "The bright side? I'm not following."
— "Do you know how many people make five hundred dollars in a single day?"
He thought about it for a moment before finally understanding what she meant.
— "Maybe the deal was supposed to be a thousand dollars... but you still earned in one day what most people make in several. See what I mean?"
Peter smiled softly.
— "Yeah... I get it. You're right. Thanks, Gwen. Seriously... how do you always stay so positive?"
She suddenly jumped to her feet, struck a dramatic pose, and answered in an overly theatrical voice.
— "Because I'm a Stacy! And Stacys are always positive!"
Peter couldn't help smiling as he admired his girlfriend's adorable expression.
Just then...
Ding!
Both of their phones chimed at the exact same time. They looked at their screens.
The notification came from their group chat: Best Night in Paris.
Flash, Liz, Sally…and the others. Peter opened the conversation. Liz had just uploaded a video.
A beautifully recorded clip...Of a completely drunk Gwen confessing her love to Peter during the school trip in Paris.
Peter's eyes widened.
— "Oh... that's—"
— "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!"
Bright red from embarrassment, Gwen screamed and threw herself onto Peter before he could react.
— "G-Gwen?! What the hell are you doing?!"
She desperately covered his face with both hands.
— "DON'T LOOK! DON'T LOOK! DON'T LOOOOOOK!!"
As she tries to snatch the phone from his hands, Peter finally manages to pull away from her and climbs onto the ceiling, facing the now-calm young woman.
— "Hey, why are you getting so worked up?! It's just a video."
Still blushing, she quickly and violently shakes her head.
— "No, delete it!"
— "But why?"
— "Because it's embarrassing!"
— "Embarrassing? I think it's cute!"
At those words, Gwen calms down almost instantly. She hesitates for a moment before speaking, as if trying to figure out whether she had heard him correctly.
— "Y-You... you really mean that?"
— "Of course."
Seeing that she has calmed down, he climbs back down from the ceiling and walks over to her.
— "It's a wonderful memory. You really don't want me to—"
— "I-It's fine! If it makes you happy... you can keep the video..."
Seeing her so embarrassed, her face as red as a tomato, Peter can't help but smile with amusement. He considers teasing her, but decides to keep it simple. He walks up to her and wraps his arms around her.
— "Thank you."
In return, Gwen tightens her embrace around Peter.
Her heart is beating as fast as someone out for a run.
— "I can hear your heart beating really fast, you know?"
— "...I know."
At that moment, it was as if everything that had happened no longer mattered. Jonah, the money, the police... he felt strangely at peace.
And that...
Was thanks to Gwen.
— "No need to overthink it, Peter. Things will work out. Yeah... things always work out in the end."
New York — Ryker's Prison — Evening
In the dark, heavily guarded corridors of Ryker's Prison, now infamous for housing the world's most dangerous criminals, Norman Osborn walked forward with unwavering confidence. Surrounded by armed guards, he entered the section reserved for super-criminals.
Before him, inside reinforced cells, stood six familiar faces. Six superhuman individuals, six public threats... and above all, five direct creations of his past experiments.
— "Well, well... look who it is... Norman Osborn."
Norman turned toward his guards.
— "Please leave us."
— "Are you sure, sir...?"
— "Everything will be fine. It won't take long."
The guards hesitated briefly, exchanging worried glances before stepping back and leaving the area, leaving Norman alone with the six supervillains.
— "Good evening, Otto. I'm glad to see you're in good health."
— "Good health? Very funny... I'm locked up in this damn prison because of you!"
— "What happened to you, Otto? You seem... different. Is it because of your arms?"
He studied him for a moment.
— "Well, whatever..."
Norman remained expressionless. His gaze swept across the cells one by one, lingering on each inmate.
— "Good evening to all of you as well. You all seem to be doing well."
— "Nah, not really. The food here sucks."
— "Alright, are you done with your pointless pleasantries? Why are you here?"
Norman watched them in silence for a moment... then calmly pulled out his phone. A precise movement across the screen, a press of a button... and suddenly, the surveillance cameras shut off.
— "The reason I'm here... is to get you out of this place."
New York — Ryker's Prison — Control Room — Moments Earlier
Moments earlier, the two guards assigned to the surveillance room collapsed heavily onto the floor, knocked unconscious. Hidden in the shadows stood two female figures.
Both were dressed in tight black outfits.
One of them was a woman wearing a black catsuit, resembling a cat. And the other... looked exactly the same.
Back in the cell block, a tense silence settled in.
Then Otto exploded with anger.
— "Is this a joke?! Why the hell would you get us out of here for free?!"
Norman turned his gaze toward Otto. A terrifying smile spread across his face, revealing the madness behind his plans without revealing them.
— "Who said it would be free?"
— "Then what do you want?"
— "Yeah! What do you want?"
Sandman shot his teammate a puzzled look.
— "Why are you repeating what I say?"
— "I don't know. I thought it was funny."
He let out an exasperated sigh.
— "Jesus... you're such an idiot."
— "You still haven't answered the question."
Shocker, who had been sitting since the beginning, stood up and walked toward the bars of his cell.
— "What do you want?"
A brief silence followed.
— "At least it's not some crappy job, right?"
— "Oh no, don't worry... I'm certain you're going to like it."
Norman Osborn finally smiled.
His cold, calculating gaze swept over each of them one last time.
— "From this day forward, you will become a true team of super-criminals. From this day forward, you will be... the Terrifying Six!"
TO BE CONTINUED.