The Coming

Another wave swept a pile of boxes out of its path.

That's some serious thinking, mercenary.

- Listen, stocking, I was planning to storm your base only tomorrow, so why don't we split up and continue this meeting in eighteen hours, fresh and fresh?

- You're a funny insect, but I'm sorry, it all ends today," Shocker said, launching another energy ripple.

- Spiders are actually arachnids! - I comment, ducking and catching myself on the ceiling.

Okay, okay, Spidey, think! Shocker's main strength is his gloves. The suit also protects against kinetic collisions, but if you stop receiving contact from the gloves, the defence mechanism stops working as well. A kind of "foolproof" warning.

But how do you stop the supply?

I don't see any giant fire towers with water with which to short-circuit, not in the vicinity.

Large objects with the help of which it is possible to "collapse" the defence are not enough here either.

Schultz interrupts my thoughts with another volley.

That's it, I've had it! Let's be more radical.

- Come on out, bug. You can't hide for long!

- I'm not going to, you're so exciting!

I'm going to attack from above, grabbing a bunch of boxes at the same time.

Shocker, like a seasoned visitor to the shooting gallery, knocking out all the objects falling on him. Completely oblivious to me approaching from the other end of the warehouse. I fly, in a move perfect for hitting the guy in the yellow jester outfit, but instead I land not far from the enemy.

Shocker spotted me and was about to aim his miracle mitts in my direction, but that wasn't the plan.

I run up to the enemy, hook his right arm and, running behind Schultz's back, break the glove along with his wrist, disabling the mechanism.

-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!! - Of course, Herman starts screaming loudly in pain.

You bet, by the looks of it, I've organised a double displaced fracture of the radius.

Without letting my opponent come to his senses, I break the second mechanism, this time sparing the healthy limb.

The bandits, observing this picture, are simply numb, not knowing what to do next.

I think it's perfect timing.

- You saw what I did to your leader. Now get out of here and tell the entire criminal underbelly of New York City that there's a new sheriff! And that Spider-Man is coming for every one of them!

With one last desperate glance at their strongest unit that I had defeated, the criminals scurried out of the warehouse.

After a few minutes, there was no one left in the room except for the webbed bandits, who had been knocked out and immobilised, and Shocker, who was in a half-dazed state.

- You-you-you-you broke my arm! - Schultz finally came to his senses. - I'll kill you, you hear, I'll drive you into the ground!

Completely ignoring the emotional cry of the criminal, I approach, pinning his feet to the floor.

When I stop, I lightly punch Shocker in the face.

- Shut up and remember you still have a second arm. For now, - after the obvious threat, Herman quieted down a bit.

- What do you want? - After a while, Schultz got up the courage to ask a question, glancing at me sideways. Until then I had been quietly looking round the warehouse and checking that I had tied up all the remaining criminals.

I turn round abruptly and speak in a deadly serious and cold tone.

- Remember, you fucking scumbag, from now on all drug trafficking will go through me! Tell your boss to give me 15% of all proceeds or I'll start sorting out his entire criminal network piece by piece!!!!!!!!!. - I end up screaming and ripping off Shocker's mask.

- Wh-wh-what? - The confused and frightened thug mumbled.

Silently I stare at him for a few long seconds and then start laughing furiously.

- Phhhhhh, sorry, sorry, I wanted to see your face after my monologue. But it was really scary, you have to admit?

- You're out of your fucking mind, motherfucker! I'm gonna get you! - trying to hide his fear behind his anger, Hermann shouted.

Coming closer, I grabbed Shocker's broken arm, making him squeal.

- Now, seriously. You have a compound fracture, and every second of stubbornness and empty threats takes you further away from medical help. Nod if you understand.

Through gritted teeth, Schultz nodded.

- Wonderful, who do you work for?

The bandit was silent.

I grabbed his healthy limb and bent his index finger quite hard.

- Again, your other limb is still intact. Like all the delicate fingers on it, one sloppy movement and they'll snap like twigs.

- I'm not a rat, I won't give up the boss!

- So much the worse for you," I break my index finger.

The warehouse is deafening with a new scream of pain.

- Do you think it'll hurt more with your little finger? - I take the criminal's shaking hand and pull back the shortest finger.

- Wait, wait, please, I'll tell you. I'll tell you!

- Nice," I let go of his hand. - And don't think about lying, I'll hear your heartbeat!

I'm sorry, I was being facetious. Matt Murdoch's super senses are still a long way off. But Shocker doesn't know that.

- I-I get it. Я.... Big boss. That's who I work for.

- I want a real name, not an alias! - I'm reaching for your hand again.

- Please, they'll kill me! - Herman screams, trying to get as far away from me as possible.

Did I overdo it? The bandit's pale, sweating, and out of breath. Most likely, his temperature has risen sharply because of the painful shock.

- Where do I find the big boss?

- He contacted me through the Hammerhead. I don't know where the base is, I swear!

Oh, there's Hard Forehead. That's interesting. But now it's getting a little hard to figure out who the big boss is. I can think of four people the Hammerhead's been after in different versions.

- Where do we find this tadpole?

- Hammerhead. Ice Eight Club, Manhattan. He's got a girlfriend who's a receptionist there. He's there every night off.

- What was the operation here?

- Drugs, in those crates.

So when I said drug trafficking, I was right, right? Well, I can see why he was shitting himself. He thought I was serious.

- Who was that bloke in the suit that looked like an accountant?

- He's.... from another partner. It's their warehouse. We paid a percentage for the opportunity to distribute on their land.

- So the Big Boss isn't such a big deal?

Shocker didn't say a word.

- Who are these mysterious partners?

- Nnnnnnnnnn...

Hmm, a turning point. I can finally establish myself as "the guy who's not afraid to get his hands dirty". And then there's no going back to "Friendly Neighbour".

A lot of people will say, "Go back? You just hurt him, he'll keep being afraid!"

Not really.

What's happening now can still be put down to the "hotness" of the first fight. Especially if you make a clown of yourself in future confrontations.

But do I need to? I remember in the comics, most of the enemies respected Spidey to some extent, even though they didn't take him seriously. I mean, he was winning, no doubt. But the same Shocker saw only a joker and wanted to "crush the bug", not "kill the psycho".

You know the difference?

Now the question is, who do I see myself as?

Batman or Green Arrow?

Daredevil or Punisher?

Vigilante or Vigilante Vigilante?

None of them, to be honest.

I see myself as Spider-Man. Which means everything in moderation. Responsibility and strength.

- All right, hang in there, Hermie. I'll call the uniformed guys and the medics, too. They'll fix you up," I clap the bandit on the shoulder and fix the fracture with webbing. - It will help until the specialists arrive.

Leaving the warehouse I went in search of the nearest payphone, but on the way I came across a police patrol crew.

- Hey guys, a message from your Friendly Neighbour Spider-Man, there was a drug shipment being unloaded at a warehouse in Forest Hills, on Leith Avenue, which I prevented. You're welcome. A couple of the guys are still there, personally bagged. Please pick them up. Oh, and call the paramedics. Have a good day! - I say goodbye to the cops and before they come to their senses because some guy in a gymnast costume jumped on their car, I cling to the building and fly towards home.

It's getting light and I haven't slept yet! Yeah, the patrols are tightening up.

***

James Wesley was on his way up to the top of the Main Tower, his boss's office.

- Wesley, you're early. How was the operation, did our partners let us down? - spoke a large, two-metre tall man, pounding a punching bag.

- Actually, it didn't go well, Mr Fisk.

Wilson paused and, removing his gloves, turned to his subordinate.

- Report.

James Wesley had been the Kingpin's right-hand man since before the boss was known as the king of the underworld. James had earned his place because he was fanatically loyal to his boss and because he was the most responsible member of Fisk's organisation. But even Wesley had never tested his patience.

- Everything was going as planned, but then, in the final phase of the operation, some guy in tights showed up.

- Daredevil?

- No, he called himself Spider-Man.

- Hmm. What about the merchandise?

- Partially destroyed. But he tipped off the cops, so we can consider the operation a failure.

- Can our organisation be compromised?

- No, all of our people worked for Thompson, including Shocker.

- So Mr Lincoln's in trouble. But Schultz knew who you were acting for.

- Believe me, Mr Fisk, that empty-headed mercenary is more afraid of you than he is of his boss.

- I'm safe. All right, then. Get in touch with Tombstone's people, we need to discuss a way forward. Also, find everything you can on this Spider-Man.

***

- Mr Parker? Mr Parker!?

- А?

- I realise English is the language you speak, but that's no reason to sleep in my class. This is your first and last warning, Mr Parker.

- I'm sorry, Miss Ditman.

Gee, I was hoping an hour of sleep would be enough. But I passed out. Next time, you'll have to time yourself. How about 11:00 to 4:00 a.m.?

- Hela, Pete, have you been up all night?

- No, Miles, it's just that when I hear Miss Ditman's voice, I black out.

- Okay, Mr Mean, so what kept you up all night?

- Nightmares.

- Terminators?

- No, a herd of unicorns.

- Really scary.

With a bit of banter, we made our way to Gwen's locker.

- Wow, Pete, you look tired.

- Mr Parker was kept awake all night by unicorns!

- Gross! In fact, you should spend less time in your basement, Pete, and more time sleeping.

- This is a lab.

- What did I say? By the way, did you hear the news?

- Go ahead, Miss Stacey.

- You really haven't heard? It's been all over the news all morning.

- I was kind of busy drooling in my desk.

- I'm not really interested in rumours.

- It doesn't matter. So, from Europe, after a year's study, the son of Norman Osborne, yes, that Osborne.

- Harry?

- You two know each other?

- We spoke as kids.

Well, well, well. The wheel of canon has started attracting all sorts of spider characters. It's about time we stopped being surprised. Yesterday was Spider-Man's first patrol, which means the fun has begun.

Only question. Unlike many of the alternate versions, I haven't spoken to Harry in years. Would he even remember me? And the much better question is, do I need to?

In general, Harry's a pretty normal guy, except he has a significant downside. Dad. Norman, the fucking Green Goblin, Osborne. The essence of the problem is that if Peter Parker communicated with Harry Ozborn, then after a certain period of time met with Norman Ozborn. The latter saw "potential" in Peter and even treated him like the son he never had. Harry was only angry, disappointed, and somewhere deep down even grudgingly at Parker, who had nothing to do with Ozbourne's tendencies.

In general, about the relationship between these father and son can write a scientific work.

on psychiatry.

It's done.

We go with the flow. If he ignores us, we'll do the same. It's been a while. And if she doesn't. Sure, we can chat, but just in case, we ignore invitations to visit.

- It's cool to have a millionaire's son as a friend.

- Like I said, we hung out when we were kids. Doesn't mean we're still friends.

- Whoa, easy, Pete, I'm kidding.

- I'm sorry about that, Miles. I really didn't sleep well.

***

The day at school was pretty routine. It's still weird that when I see Flash, he's still trying to give me a smack instead of a smack. And treats me like a member of the football team. It's kind of weird.

- Aunt May, Uncle Ben, I'm home!

Oh, right, they're both at work.

I take off my shoes and go into the kitchen.

There's a sticker on the fridge door:

"Hey, champ, Mei and I are gonna be late. Shifts. Dinner's in the fridge. Have a good night." Uncle Ben.

Yeah, they both work hard. Money's always needed.

So I was thinking, why don't I take Parker's canon job and get a job with mustachioed scrounger Jonah Jamieson?

I mean, there would be some very real benefits to that. Firstly, in the comics, and not only, thanks to the work of a photographer on freelance, Peter often learned in advance about any incidents and managed to help many innocent people. Secondly, Jonah himself treated Parker like a son or simply saw himself in the boy in his youth and gave Pete useful work. And the negative attitude to me as to Spider, well here personal fancies may be jealousy or something else. I don't know about his wife's fate in this reality.

Anyway, it's worth a shot. I'll be travelling to Bogle in the near future.

In the meantime, let's make some technical upgrades. To the lab!

I went down to my spider's lair, plopped down in my chair and started thinking.

If we're going to do photography, we need a camera. An old Kodak will do for the first time, but not for long.

Further, a belt where you need to fix and spare cartridges and the camera itself. Maybe I'll even realise the spider lantern, we'll see. But again, that's gonna take dollars.

Let's see what Bogle's ad says.

Just as I thought, no one's ever heard of the Spider. Of course, it's only my first day in the field. But it's good to be proactive. I'll do a photo shoot on patrol today.

In the meantime, we'll take care of the rest.

Having dug up some old diodes and lenses I start making a red light bulb at home.

Yeah, it's not Stark Labs or Parker Industries, but it's a pretty cosy nerd craft. Very homely working atmosphere on the way out. That's worth something, right?

For me personally, that's what Spider-Man is and always has been about. In his basement, making some pretty decent technical devices out of shit and sticks, very Stenolaz-esque.

All right, let's see what we got.

Running the torch. Hmm, the light's a little dim, I'll need a more powerful diode.

Yeah, it's all about money again.

Of course, I thought about the possibility of becoming an "outlaw" and, for example, sometimes slightly clean the vaults of criminals, before contacting the cops. But... it just doesn't feel right. Let's leave this option for the very, very last resort.

Let's check out Web shooters.

One of the main problems of canon Parker, - absent-mindedness and, far from always, a serious approach to the affairs of his superhero side. Of course, flying around town and finding adventure in perspective works, up to a point. And, as we know, if you put on a colourful costume, sooner or later trouble will come out on its own. That's the way the world works.

But it's not the most sensible approach.

Of course, I don't want to turn into the same "Excellent", and in the end, Otto overplayed himself.

Pete's approach has always had a certain enticing lightness to it. So here's what I'm going to do:

Work the same, but start taking certain steps to develop my position.

Okay, the throwers are fine. The mechanism hasn't deteriorated at all, which means the loads are acceptable and no repairs will be needed in the long run. Since I'm broke, that's good news.

There's very little of Richard Parker's junk left, useful at least. But there's enough for a couple of my ideas.

Before we get to the labour of soldering and welding, let's have a little rest.

And what better rest is there than a change of activity?

I leap out of the laboratory and, with a filigree somersault, jump through the open window of my room on the first floor. Ten points, Mr Parker.

I grab ten or twenty sheets of paper, scissors, pens and felt-tip pens.

 I jump out of the window with all this stuff and I'm back at the Spider's Lair. I didn't have a "Friendly Neighbour" note handy yesterday, so I need to rectify that misunderstanding.

Draw the signature spider and sign it Spidey, great. Now for another thirty of these.

***

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