The final bell at Midtown High School rang, releasing a flood of teenagers into the crisp Queens afternoon. Peter Parker, a lean freshman, pushed through the heavy metal double doors with Gwen Stacy right beside him. They were headed straight for the F.E.A.S.T. Center. Peter's mind wasn't on his pending physics assignment; it was running a terrifying, three-step tactical checklist.
Step one: Tell Aunt May the truth. The looming threat of the Lizard aerosolizing his mutation serum meant Peter's family was directly in the crosshairs. He couldn't protect them if they were completely blind to the threat.
Step two: Rendezvous with Felicia to track down Dr Connor with Kraven the Hunter. They'd already hammered out the broad strokes over a secure phone line, but Kraven needed a physical scent to track a beast through the sewers. The jagged chunk of reptilian flesh Peter had torn off the Lizard's back was currently locked away in an Oscorp Technologies evidence vault. Peter had to personally break in, secure the tissue sample, and deliver it to the hunter.
Step three: The nightmare conversation. Tonight, he had to sit down with George Stacy, Gwen's father and a hardened NYPD veteran. Peter had to look the man in the eye and explain that in a parallel universe, a giant lizard gutted him on a rooftop. Peter refused to let history repeat itself in this universe, which meant putting the Captain on high alert.
They pushed through the glass doors of the F.E.A.S.T. Center. The scent of roasted chicken, garlic, and fresh-baked bread hit Peter instantly. The shelter was packed, the massive dining hall buzzing with the low hum of a hundred overlapping conversations.
F.E.A.S.T. had exploded in popularity recently, largely because its founder, Martin Li, had become "Mr. Negative."
But instead of becoming a supervillain, Li had taken a hard left turn, joining the street-level vigilante roster known as the Defenders. But the real draw for the desperate, the sick, and the uninsured was his power of light—a crackling, brilliant energy that could knit flesh and cure disease.
Peter spotted Martin near the front of the hall, gently extracting himself from a swarm of excited kids.
"Come on, Mr. Li! Just glow a little bit!" a kid with a missing front tooth pleaded, tugging on Martin's suit jacket.
Martin chuckled, resting a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "No, no, I can't do that today, Leo. After I transform... it gets complicated. The energy in my body is split. Light and dark. If Mr. Negative touches someone with the dark energy, it brings out the worst in them. It corrupts. I have to keep the scales perfectly balanced. I can't just spark it up for a light show."
Martin patted the kid's back, sending the group off to the dining tables, before turning and spotting Peter and Gwen. His tired face broke into a genuine, warm smile.
"Peter! Gwen!" Martin walked over, extending a hand. "I haven't seen you two since you started high school. How are things?"
"We've been around, Mr. Li. Just... hiding in the back," Peter said, shaking the man's hand. "How are you holding up? I saw the news. Sounded like you had a rough couple of weeks."
Martin let out a long breath, a mixture of pride and deep exhaustion crossing his features. "You could say that. Kidnapped by rogue scientists, subjected to illegal genetic experiments, saved by Spider-Man... standard New York stuff, really. And now, apparently, I'm a superhero."
He rubbed the back of his neck, his smile turning wry. "It's a strange burden. When I realized the light energy could heal people, I wanted to use it constantly. But it throws the scales off. If I heal too many people, the dark energy builds up inside me. It demands to be let out. If I don't vent it, it bleeds into the people I'm trying to help. An imbalance of Yin and Yang."
"So, you fight crime to burn off the dark energy?" Gwen asked, her eyes widening in realization.
"Exactly," Martin nodded, looking at her appreciatively. "I have to engage in some... controlled violence on the streets at night, just so I can safely heal the sick during the day. It's a tightrope. But you're a smart kid, Peter. You always were. You're here to see May, aren't you?"
"Yeah. And to lend a hand, if you need it."
"We always need hands," Martin said, gesturing for them to follow him toward the kitchens. "F.E.A.S.T. is doing incredibly well. The infrastructure damage from all these new superhuman fights means construction jobs are booming. People are getting back on their feet. Plus..." Martin lowered his voice slightly. "We've been receiving massive, anonymous cash donations every month. I have no idea who the benefactor is, but they're keeping the lights on and the pantry full."
"People see the good work you're doing, Mr. Li," Peter said, keeping his face perfectly neutral. "It inspires them to help out."
Internally, Peter bit the inside of his cheek to stop from grinning. He was the anonymous donor. Once Tony Stark had officially registered the "Spider-Man" trademark and started moving merchandise—lunchboxes, action figures, t-shirts—the royalties had hit Peter's newly minted Stark Industries account like a freight train. Peter hadn't touched a dime of it for himself. Suddenly upgrading his wardrobe or buying a car would instantly blow his secret identity. So, after routing a chunk of funds to build up his underground Spider-Base the Web, Peter had Jarvis quietly wire the rest directly to F.E.A.S.T. every month.
Martin left them at the swinging kitchen doors. Peter and Gwen exchanged a loaded look. They stepped into the adjacent pantry, pulling industrial white aprons over their heads.
They pushed through the doors. The kitchen was a wall of heat, steam, and the sharp scent of chopped onions. Aunt May was at a stainless-steel prep table, her hands dusted with flour, likely prepping a massive batch of her legendary, neighborhood-famous muffins.
She looked up, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Peter! And Gwen! Well, this is a surprise. I figured high school had swallowed you two whole."
"We survived, Aunt May," Peter said, his voice a little tighter than he intended. "I've actually been down here a few times, just... keeping a low profile."
Gwen stepped up, untying her apron with practiced ease. She gave Peter's arm a subtle, grounding squeeze. "Actually, Aunt May, I think Martin needs me to help wrangle the kids in the dining hall. I'll leave you two to the prep work."
Gwen vanished through the swinging doors before May could protest.
May paused, the wooden spoon in her hand going entirely still. She wiped her floury hands on her apron, her sharp, perceptive gaze locking onto Peter. She had survived decades in Queens; nothing got past her. "Alright. Why is Gwen acting like she just cleared a blast radius? What's going on, Peter?"
Peter swallowed. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with dry cotton. "I have something to tell you, Aunt May. You... you've noticed I've been sneaking out of the house every night."
May's posture stiffened slightly, but she didn't yell. "I have. I also know you're a good boy, Peter. You haven't gotten yourself mixed up in anything bad, have you?"
"No," Peter said, taking a slow, shaky breath. "No, Aunt May. I'm... I'm trying to help people. As much as I physically can."
He looked her dead in the eye, stripping away every ounce of the witty, deflection-heavy armor he usually wore.
"I'm Spider-Man."
The kitchen seemed to go dead silent, save for the bubbling of a massive soup pot on the industrial stove. May just stared at him. She didn't faint. She didn't scream. Her eyes just tracked across his face, searching for the punchline.
When she didn't find one, she exhaled a breath that sounded like it had been trapped in her lungs for a decade. "Oh, my God. Peter. You... you aren't joking."
"I'm not joking, May," Peter said softly, taking a step closer. "It happened back in March. At the Osborn Tech Expo. I got bitten by a modified radioactive spider. I didn't know what to do at first. I was terrified. But then I talked to Uncle Ben. He's a former Marine, he knows about duty and tactics, and he helped me. He trained me on how to master it. How to stay alive. And then... I became Spider-Man. And then Tony Stark made me an Avenger."
May reached out, grabbing the edge of the stainless-steel table so hard her knuckles turned white. "Ben knows? He's known this whole time?"
"We wanted to protect you," Peter pleaded, keeping his voice low, his eyes darting to the kitchen doors to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "We knew you'd be terrified every time I walked out the door. But Aunt May... the rules have changed. There's a new threat out there right now. If I don't tell you the truth, I can't explain why certain things might happen. And if danger comes to our front door, you need to know exactly what we're dealing with."
May looked at him, her eyes shining but entirely unyielding. The classic tough-love backbone of a Queens native snapped into place. "Has something happened, Peter? Are we in danger?"
Peter squared his shoulders, his jaw setting into a hard line. "I'll make sure it doesn't get that far."