My eyes snapped open. Just lay there, staring at the ceiling. No thoughts, no movement at all. Complete brain shutdown. And then—bam—life resumed at one hundred miles an hour.
Sound everywhere. Way too much sound. There's this buzz running in the walls, footsteps creaking overhead, somebody arguing so far away I'm pretty sure I just unlocked "Enhanced Neighborhood Drama Hearing." Fantastic.
"…Okay, nope." I sat up.
Instant regret. The entire room whooshed to the side. I must've toggled motion blur, or maybe gravity was bored and decided to mess with me.
Clinging to the edge of the bed, I muttered, "…Yeah, let's not do that again." Deep breath—who knew sitting up could trigger a roller coaster? Gave it another go because apparently, I'm a glutton for punishment.
Finally, my vision stopped doing the cha-cha. Not exactly normal. Definitely not the regular Tuesday-morning experience. "...I'm not dead," I muttered. Big pause. "…That's a solid start." Low bar, but you take the victories you can get.
I swung my legs off the bed, stood up, and hit pause again. "…Why do I feel like I skipped a few updates?" My whole body seemed… lighter, sharper. Like I got a tune-up overnight and the mechanic didn't even leave a bill.
I made my way to the mirror. Each step felt precise—no stumbles, no awkward penguin walk. "…Okay, that's kinda cool."
In the mirror, I did a double take. "...Hold on." Closer. "…Hold on." Straightened up. "…Why am I tall?" Yesterday: five-foot-eight. Today… well, I've apparently hit the "tall and mysterious stranger" setting.
"…Did I just speedrun puberty?" I was aiming for dental hygiene, but here we are. My shoulders looked wider, muscles more defined—no bulk, just efficiency. If someone designed a body for maximum superhero benefit, they must've used me as their reference.
"I didn't order this upgrade, but I'm not complaining." I flexed my hand—instant response. "...Yeah, this is definitely the premium edition."
I turned and—crack! Froze. Really? I barely even touched it. There's a dent in the wall now. Great.
"…Okay. Note to self: walls are now optional." Breathe in. "Alright… rule one…" I raised a finger. "Don't accidentally destroy the house." Serious pause. "…May will kill me before any supervillain gets the chance."
I tiptoed downstairs, playing some high-stakes game called 'Don't Snap the Floorboards.' Aunt May was at the stove, looking totally innocent, flipping pancakes.
"Morning," she said.
I tried to sound casual. "Morning." But she didn't buy it. She paused, gave me that Look only an aunt can pull off.
"…You look different."
Of course I do. "Different how?" I asked—like I didn't notice that I now cast a taller shadow.
She squinted. "…Did you get taller?"
"Growth spurt?" I tried.
"At your age?"
"Late bloomer?" Olympic-level denial.
She wasn't falling for it. "...Have you been working out?"
"Yeah," I said, "Did a quick overnight transformation. Highly recommend."
She didn't look convinced, but let it go with a sigh. "Just don't overdo it, alright?"
"I won't." (Unless bending steel beams with my pinky counts.)
I grabbed breakfast, trying not to turn toast into powder. "You heading to school?" she asked.
"Yeah." Kinda. Sorta. Not at all.
"Be careful."
"Always." Famous last words.
Soon as I hit the sidewalk—PING. Not a noise, a feeling. Like something in my skull flicked itself on. "...Oh."
A car ripped by. I sensed it before I spotted it. "...Oh, that's cool." I waved my hand at my face. "Hello? Early-warning system? Are you there, Spider-sense?" Nothing. "...Alright, guess it's kind of moody. Noted."
This was not a day for boring classrooms. I needed space. Preferably the kind where I wasn't going to accidentally break physics.
Found an abandoned construction site. Perfect. Nothing but wind, metal beams, and my chance to break something nobody cared about.
"Alright," I said to nobody. "Let's see what's on the menu today." I raised my hand and concentrated. "...Do the thing." Something in my wrist went thwip! A strand shot out, stuck to a beam.
I blinked. "...No way." Tried again. "Thwip." Okay, this was officially ridiculous—and totally awesome. "...I don't even need web-shooters? Tony's gonna be devastated."
I grabbed the strand, pulled. Strong. Stretchy. "...Alright, this is just unfair."
Time for the movement test. I bent my knees, jumped, and—crack. Yeah. The ground literally fractured. Up I went, grabbed a beam, and stuck there, Spidey-style. "...Meant to do that." Looking down, sideways, then upside down—yep. Total wall-crawling.
Moving up and along the beam felt so natural, I started worrying I'd get fined for using illegal superpowers. Dropped down—easy landing, zero pain.
Found a big chunk of concrete. Heavy. Let's get stupid. I lifted it—easily. Higher. Still nothing. Alright, let's not terrify the pigeons. If I had to guess? "...Estimate? 25 tons?" Did I break math? "...Excuse me?"
Looked at my hands. "Yeah, I'm not your regular Spider-Man." Passive-aggressive finger flexing for emphasis.
Let's recap. One: Organic webs. Two: Spider-sense (flaky, but there). Three: Wall crawling. Four: Super strength—borderline unfair.
I dropped my hand. "...Yeah." Full grin now. "I absolutely got the deluxe package."
Pov MJ
Meanwhile, over at school—by lunchtime, everyone noticed. Peter Parker was a no-show. MJ sat there, drumming her pen, eyes fixed on his empty seat.
"Weird," she muttered.
"Who?" whispered the girl beside her.
"Peter."
"Maybe he's sick."
"...Maybe." Didn't feel right. He was not sick. He actually looked… better? MJ frowned. "He looked good. Wait…" She shook her head, hoping nobody noticed.
Harry piped up from behind. "Earth to MJ. You've been staring at Pete's seat for five minutes."
"I have not."
"You have."
"Okay, maybe a little." Harry leaned in, conspiratorial. "You think he ditched?"
"Peter Parker? Skipping school?" MJ raised a brow.
"...Yeah, sounds impossible."
"He said he'd be fine," she murmured.
"What?"
"Nothing." But honestly, she worried. Her fingers drummed again. "Good different," she muttered, mostly to herself.
"What?" came Harry's voice.
"Nothing." Bell rang, and she was up, phone in hand. Scrolled down to his name. Hovered. "...Where are you, Tiger?" she whispered. Pause. Locked her phone. "If you're skipping, you better have a really good reason," she smirked.
Back at the construction site, I cracked my neck, getting ready. "Alright. Time to do something incredibly stupid." And honestly? Couldn't wait.