Muscular Beginnings

Peter chewed on a mint to help him concentrate better, while a pen danced around his dextrous fingers. A large scientific calculator sat next to him as he did his calculations while he attempted to bring Project Genelock to life.

This was far more important than Project Lizard currently, as he had no idea how long it would take. He already had a rough estimate of the length of time it would take for him to complete Project Lizard but not Genelock.

'Wait', Peter thought, furrowing his brows as he got a stupidly ingenious idea. 'Can this be done... well, it's Marvel - anything is possible.'

The first thing to do when starting a project is to set your hypothetical goals; regardless of whether it is realistic or not.

What did he want this Project to do? - To prevent people from acquiring his DNA.

What is the most efficient way of preventing people from acquiring his DNA? - That would be to not leave behind any DNA evidence.

'But that's impossible; I'm going to bleed sooner or later, or even get my arm cut off. To make it worse, hair, skin, and things you shed on a daily basis contain DNA.'

Thus, it could be easily established that preventing DNA from leaving your body is currently impossible. Therefore, a method must be devised to prevent people from acquiring his DNA even if he left it behind.

'The only plausible method is for the DNA to autonomously disintegrate the moment it leaves my body; as I cannot keep wiping every trace of my DNA all the time. Fucking hell, that's a lot to ask.'

If I wanted my DNA to destabilise the moment it left my body, I need to do something drastic", he muttered to himself

After all, DNA doesn't just destabilise in a few seconds as it has a half-life of a few hundred years. If he could not rely on natural methods, he would have to destabilise it himself.

He sighed to himself, "I can't believe I'm even considering this."

The problem would be that if he made his DNA unstable, then he would... well, die. Therefore, he had to either make his DNA unstable and make his body produce something that would make it stable, or make his DNA instantly collapse when encountering something in the air.

'Second option is too dangerous. A large wound would kill me as most of my blood would be exposed. But the first option is dangerous too - a lot of things could go wrong.'

He thought for a few seconds before a solution popped up in his head.

"I could use BIHT...," he muttered to himself, his widening at the answer. BIHT (Biologically Interfaced Hormonal Trigger) which he'd created to stabilise the transition between Base Form and Form II, basically allowed him to mentally switch on and switch off any additional body function by linking it to a specific set of hormones and neurotransmitters.

He could create the destabilisation and stabilisation of his DNA via BIHT, which would allow him to control Genelock at will. At least, he wouldn't become infertile - well, he could be infertile if he wished for it to be so. (The best protection anyone could ever ask for.)

'Perhaps I could exploit the vibration frequency of DNA to dissolve its bonds,' he thought to himself as he rubbed his chin.

If he could ever synthesise the proteins that would destabilise and stabilise DNA, he would name them RDP (Resonance Destabilising Protein) and RSP (Resonance Stabilising Protein).

'Now to actually design the damn proteins,' he groaned. The destabilisation and stabilisation of DNA would require another breakthrough, which could take a minimum of two months even if he worked his ass off.

"No rest for the wicked, eh?"

***

It was a Saturday morning which was a blessing as he didn't need to go to the cursed school.

As much as he loved spending time with Gwen, he had grown tired of studying the same shit again. He had just turned 19 when he was unceremoniously dropped into this crazy universe, and he did NOT want to do school all over again. He would rather have stuck to college and his thesis project - but life was a bitch.

Peter woke up at around 5 am, wore his clothes, and headed to the gym which was practically empty.

He went through the usual routine that he used to do in his past life but struggled greatly when attempting to curl the 25 kg dumbbell that he used to be able to lift. Muttering under his breath about the lack of vita-rays, he picked up the 15 kg dumbbells.

He could barely breathe when he got to the latter half of his usual routine which slightly annoyed him, but he regained his stamina quicker than usual which allowed him to complete it. His body was perpetually healing the microtears in his muscles, making them stronger, less prone to fatigue, and bigger.

The highlight of the session was the easily noticeable improvement in strength, speed, and stamina when he was done working out. He could lift three more kilograms than before, last for 6 more minutes in a plank, and run for 3 more kilometres before his legs gave in.

His stamina was the one that grew the most out of all of them - perhaps the lactic acid buildup was quickly neutralised by his enhanced body or it just produced far less fatigue toxins. It was something to look into later.

He returned the dumbbells to the stand while taking deep breaths to satiate his lungs before heading to the shower to freshen up.

"Enhanced muscular growth, huh...," he smirked to himself while standing shirtless before the gym's large bathroom mirror. His sweaty body, while not jacked to the bone, was already beginning to show more musculature. His chest was more defined, his thigh muscles were fairly bigger, and one could somewhat distinguish his biceps and triceps.

'It's only two hours of exercise and I can finally exert enough strength to qualify as slightly above average, though full peak human strength would probably require the Stage IV Genome serum.'

He shook himself out of his fantasies and showered. He needed to arrive at Oscorp Tower by 10:00 am for his meeting, and it was already 7:30 am. He could not afford to be late.

***

"Well, well, well. Look at you, ya handsome bugger," Ben whistled while sipping on his usual black coffee. "You know, you look just like Richard. Of course, I was always the better-looking one. Isn't that right May?"

"Peter!!" May ignored her husband and ran over to pinch his cheeks. "The new glasses suit you so well! What happened to the other one?"

"Hey Aunt May...they brokesssssssssss," Peter attempted to mumble but got his mouth stretched into a smile.

"You look so much healthier after you've begun eating. Ben's right, you do look like your father," she squealed, releasing him from her clutches. "But how did the previous one break?"

"Dropped a dumbbell on it. The lens was cracked, but the frames got totally messed up."

"How much were the new ones?"

"I got two for 60 dollars."

"Daylight fucking robbery!!! Back in my day, we got them for fucking che-"

"Ben! No swearing!" May glared at Ben before turning to Peter as if she'd just remembered something. "Oh, I almost forgot. Ben and I won't be here for the night."

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Why is that?"

"Date night!" Ben answered before May could open her mouth. "Be prepared, Peter, you may get a new cousin soon."

"Ben!" May squeaked, scandalised while Peter burst out laughing. "There is no need to be so vulgar!"

"Well, I'll leave you both to it then," he chuckled, before heading back upstairs.

"Peter, we've installed a medical cabinet upstairs as well as downstairs. It has everything you could possibly need in it!" Ben called after him as May was still recovering from blushing too intensely.

"Sure. Thanks!"

***

Peter buttoned up his black formal shirt and stood in front of the bathroom mirror, admiring his form. The shirt even fit him perfectly due to the former Peter preferring baggier clothes. It was tucked into a pristine grey pant that was secured with a brown belt while his wrist was adorned with a simple leather-strap watch. His usually messy brown hair was just a little less messy than usual while his hazel-brown frames rested on the bridge of his elegant nose. Black, formal shoes covered his feet, completing his look.

'Did the Marvel Gods give Peter good looks as compensation for a torturous life?' he began seriously considering the possibility. 'Nah...he'll need to ascend to godhood as compensation for the amount of shit he's gone through.'

He slung on his backpack, with a cheap laptop and a few books with some of his notes on his cancer research that he'd managed to marginally improve, wore the temporary intern ID card they had sent him, and walked out.

After he managed to escape May gushing over his sudden awareness of dressing sense and narrowly avoiding a question from Uncle Ben about his changed behaviour, he caught a cab that would take him to Oscorp Tower.

***