Chapter Text
A kind offer from the universe to ease his pain.
Peter had been asking himself for a long time: was his fate really that bad? It felt like there was never a time in his life when he didn't experience something extraordinarily strange—creepy, or even traumatic. And now, he was found by someone wearing a red iron helmet with two guns on his hips.
Great, a vigilante or a criminal. Good job, Peter.
His upward-gazing head lowered as the man with the red iron helmet leaped down and landed right in front of Peter. Oh, and how he hated looking up at a tall, muscular man from the perspective of a 10-year-old kid, especially when the person in front of him had guns.
"Uh—wait—I was just walking." His voice sounded stuttery and hoarse—Peter was thirsty.
The man in front of him snorted, one hand on his hip. Clearly not believing this kid. Even though Peter wasn't entirely lying, he really did just want to take a walk.
"Walking? What kind of kid takes a walk in Crime Alley at 2 AM?" The question sounded sarcastic and piercing. But it wasn't scary to Peter—even though his Spider-Sense didn't quite like how this stranger was closing in with weapons strapped to his body.
"Don't you know how dangerous this is? Do you have a home? Why do your parents let you out alone?"
The rapid-fire questions made Peter frown in annoyance. Why was this guy being so nosy? If he wanted to rob him, he should just do it. But it seemed the guy in the red helmet wasn't a criminal; he just genuinely looked concerned or worried.
Do I sound like this when I lecture kids as Spider-Man?
"None of your business, Mr. Stranger with the Red Helmet." Peter snapped, tilting his head up slightly, his face half-hidden beneath his hoodie's shadow.
"Mr. Strang—Kid, do you not know me?" The helmeted man looked offended or surprised that Peter didn't recognize who he was.
Oh crap, was he a famous vigilante? Yikes.
"Heh! You're pretty arrogant to assume everyone knows you, especially a kid. With your style—a red iron helmet and guns with a bat symbol on your armor. You look very, very unapproachable for a child. Especially popular among kids!"
What did I just say?!—Oh, mouth of mine.
Peter regretted letting his mouth work faster than his rational brain. Dropping insults or sarcasm on a vigilante whose morality he didn't know, in the dead of night, as a child, was definitely not a good idea. Even though Peter could easily beat him—or run away—he still didn't want to cause trouble on his very first day in this universe. The sun hadn't even risen yet.
"What?? You—"
"Forget it. I'm Red Hood, and I run Crime Alley, and it's my job to keep an eye on kids like you wandering around at night, asking for trouble."
"Red Hood?" Peter tilted his head, looking Red Hood up and down.
"Where is the hood?? Red Helmet sounds much more fitting."
Whoever was behind that mask, Peter figured they lacked a few brain cells when naming their vigilante persona. What kind of name was Red Hood when he was literally wearing an iron helmet? Peter was much better, at least his costume and powers matched the name he chose.
"Huh—is that what you're focusing on?" Red Hood seemed to snap out of the freeze he'd been stuck in for the past few seconds.
"I'm just saying, you should either look like your name or change your name." Peter shrugged.
A rough sigh escaped Red Hood, he shook his head and brought a hand up to rub his faceplate.
"Enough, don't change the subject, kid. You haven't answered my question. What are you doing in Crime Alley at 2 AM all by yourself?"
"Like I said, I'm just walking. I was going stir-crazy at home, just moved." Peter offered an excuse. Not entirely a lie, he really had just moved houses—universes, to be exact—and wanted to take a walk to find more information about this world.
"It's dangerous, brat."
"I will get you to safe place mysellf." When Jason reached out to grab Peter's hand, Peter instantly stepped back. His posture turned defensive, bracing for action.
"Nope—stranger danger."
"Stranger—kid, I'm Red Hood, I protect civilians and children."
"Yeah! Tell that to someone carrying guns!"
Peter braced himself; he didn't want to deal with the vigilantes in this city—this universe—before he figured out what kind of people they were. Peter needed to hear testimonies from the locals. He wasn't about to repeat the same mistake he made with Mysterio—never again.
"Kid, if I wanted to hurt you, I would've done it already. I just want to make sure you're not wandering around in the middle of the night. You could get kil—hurt." Red Hood stopped reaching out, but his posture clearly said he was ready to block or catch Peter if anything happened.
"I'm fine. Don't you have more important duties than dealing with a kid?"
"You—listen, kid," Red Hood said with a heavy sigh.
"I'm not a cop, and I don't care if you're skipping school or running away from home. But the streets of Gotham are no playground. If you need a safe place or... whatever, come with me for a bit. I'll take you somewhere—"
His mind works quickly to make excuse for distraction. Because there is no way Peter will follow strange vigilantes that carrying guns, even tho his sense hasnt tell him to run. Peter still don't want to get involved with this city mess abit before he get to fix Karen. So He have back up if everything too complicated.
"I... uh, my uncle is picking me up! Right over there! Uncle Ben!" Peter pointed randomly at the completely empty end of the alley.
Red Hood blinked behind his helmet, instinctively glancing in the direction Peter pointed. There was absolutely no one there. A curse slipped past his lips; he'd fallen for a cheap trick.
"Kid, there's no one there, you're lying—"
WHOOSH!
In a fraction of a second while Red Hood's gaze was diverted, Peter capitalized on his super agility. Without a sound, his feet kicked hard against the brick wall of the alley. With an explosive push from muscles far exceeding a normal human's, Peter's small body shot into the air, leaping straight toward the metal fire escape stairs of the building, using them as a lightning-fast springboard to the roof, before vaulting across building rooftops in the blink of an eye.
Red Hood, who had just turned back forward a second ago, found the narrow alley completely empty. "Shit!"
He looked up, his eyes widening behind his helmet as he spotted a small shadow leaping agilely across the rooftops with a speed impossible for a normal twelve-year-old child—or even a trained adult athlete. His movements were fluid, acrobatic, and flawless. The alley suddenly fell into absolute silence, leaving Jason standing frozen all alone under the lazily flickering neon lights.
Red Hood stood frozen for a long while. His hand slowly scratched the back of his neck, staring blankly at the roof where the kid had just vanished.
"Great, a new kid I've never seen before. Wandering around at night in Crime Alley and tricking me with a cheap stunt."
"Great, just a great night patrol." Red Hood could feel his blood pressure spiking drastically. Yet his attention instantly shifted back to how the kid moved. Agile, precise, and accurate. A blend of acrobatics and parkour.
"Did that kid just jump that high?"
"....I'm losing my mind."
Red Hood lowered his head, rubbing the iron plate of his helmet mask. He stood there for several minutes. For some reason, he hadn't chased after the kid. It was obviously unsafe to let anyone underage—or anyone at all—wander around Crime Alley at night. His hand pressed his comms button; he needed to make sure the kid was okay. Or at least not roaming around the red zone he was currently managing.
"O, got a small request. Can you check the security CCTV cameras around my area? Make sure no kid is wandering about."
Doing parkour and acrobatic tricks when your body isn't in top shape—especially while injured—turns out to be a really stupid decision. Especially when your body has shrunk to your teenage years; Peter wasn't entirely sure of his exact age. But judging by the date and year on the newspaper he bought earlier, he should be 10, though his physical build was a bit taller. Back to the main topic—his body was getting worse. Peter leaned against a wall in an abandoned factory.
How did he even get here??
Peter didn't remember the exact amount of time, but he had fled—using parkour and acrobatic moves for a good fifteen minutes. Crossing the densely populated, Gothic city architecture to a much quieter area. This place seemed to be an abandoned industrial complex. He'd passed a few groups of street criminals on his way here, but Peter strictly avoided them. In his current condition, he couldn't play Spider-Man just yet; Peter needed much more thorough information about this world and, of course, a place to stay and a way to survive.
"This place isn't too bad. A spacious factory with a few tools I can salvage to boot up Karen," he muttered, wincing slightly as he cleaned his wound with ethanol. Even though Peter had a healing factor, leaving an open wound exposed could lead to an infection. Besides, Peter didn't want to leave traces of his radioactive blood lying around.
Let's think, what do I need to get Karen back online?
Peter fell into thought, his hands moving on their own to bandage the cuts on his chest and shoulder. His brain searched for alternative options to restore the A.I. Most importantly, he needed a computer, an internet connection, and some coding. The problem was, he didn't bring a laptop or a computer; Peter had to improvise.
"Alright, old factory. Let's see what you've got."
Peter stood up slowly, testing the muscles of his small body that felt like they were being pulled in every direction from the exhaustion of leaping from rooftop to rooftop earlier. Fortunately, his spider instincts never truly numbed out. With slow steps in oversized sneakers, he began exploring the corners of the third floor of the long-dead machinery assembly plant.
Amidst heaps of scrap metal and rusted printing machine carcasses, his eyes caught a corner that looked like a mini control room. There was a main console with dangling, severed cables, several thick-dust-covered old mainframe computer units with yellowed casings, and—most importantly—an old truck battery box that seemingly still held a sliver of minimal power.
Peter knelt in front of the console, blowing away the thick dust blanketing the circuit board. His tiny hands nimbly dismantled the protective panel using a rusted screwdriver he found on the floor.
"Lucky. I can work with this, enough to wake Karen." Peter smiled. It was a relief that luck was still on his side. He didn't need to scavenge components to build a computer from scratch or try breaking into a library. That was way too risky.
The Iron Spider main system in his headphones flickered weakly, emitting a dim, intermittent red glow. Without a proper lab like the one he used to have at Stark's or his bedroom in Queens, Peter had to go manual. He connected the remaining copper wires from the factory machine directly to the small circuit in his headphones, then jump-started it with an electrical surge from the truck battery.
He carefully touched both wire ends together, creating small sparks that crackled softly in the dark room.
"C'mon, c'mon. Please work."
When the computer screen slowly flickered to life, Peter smiled widely. This was going to work; he had a good feeling. And sure enough, after Peter tweaked the wire grid and made sure everything was connected, the computer screen lit up. The model looked outdated, but it still functioned properly—just as expected from industrial-grade hardware.
Peter didn't need long, 30 minutes was enough to boot up the computer system, ensure the network was stable and secure, and let his tiny fingers fly across the keyboard to reprogram the computer interface for Karen.
Thanks for your genius brain genes, Mom.
"Hope Karen isn't completely fried," Peter muttered while connecting the nanotech Iron Spider suit system—now transformed into a headphone—to the computer. His fingers began tweaking the keyboard, and thankfully, Karen was still lingering in the suit's system. Peter just needed to make a few adjustments.
System: Done. Synchronize. Activate K.A.R.E.N.
"I did it!!" Peter cheered, springing up from his seat, arms thrown up in the air. It felt like drinking water in a scorching desert. Peter was relieved; he wasn't completely alone in this foreign world.
"Karen, are you there?" Peter asked, making sure the Karen he just booted up was the same one.
Static began to play, sounding a bit buzzy at first, but slowly turning clear and crisp.
[Hello Peter. My analysis indicates your body has changed. Did something happen? I am unable to access Stark satellites.]
"Oh, you have no idea how glad I am to hear you back—uh, and yes, a few things happened." Peter sat back down on the old chair, which squeaked under his weight. His hand reached for a protein snack bar he bought earlier. His stomach was rumbling, and hunger would affect his healing factor. Peter didn't want his recovery to drag out.
[Peter. Would you like to explain, or should I run an independent search?]
"Uh-ah, yeah, I'll tell you. Long story short, we're in another universe, very, very far from our old home." Peter explained, slouching a bit, bracing himself for protocol lectures from Karen. Even though Karen didn't have eyes—Peter could still feel a judgmental, piercing gaze. His mouth slowly chewed the snack bar, the bite feeling hard to swallow.
"You know when that—uh, hours ago, things got completely out of hand, and we ended up meeting Doctor Strange, and because the rifts were getting worse, I asked Stephen to use a spell to erase Peter Parker's existence. But apparently that wasn't enough, haha, you know what's funny??"
[Peter.]
He swallowed the snack bar hard. "Yeah, you know what Doctor Strange said?? He said the spell wouldn't be enough to close the rift because I shouldn't have been in that universe to begin with. So to fix it, Doctor Strange had to send me back to my native universe."
"And here I am now, in the place where I'm supposed to live. Because of a time distortion effect, my body shrank to 10 years old."
Silence blanketed the monitor room in the dilapidated old factory. Only the cooing of a group of pigeons atop the chimney could be heard. Peter felt guilty for causing all this chaos just out of his own selfishness. The consequences had reset his life back to square one.
[Understood. Everything is clear. Peter, what is your plan now?]
"Eh? Aren't you going to lecture me about this, Karen? You know—I messed up again."
Peter had actually prepared his mind and soul to sit through a protocol lecture from Karen. He felt a little disappointed.
[What can I do now that it has already happened? Besides, I am an A.I. assigned and programmed to assist you.]
A very rational and tactical answer. There was no point in lecturing him when Peter was already stranded in another universe with no way back. Besides, even if they returned, nobody would remember Peter, and it was impossible now that Dr. Strange had sealed off Peter's path back with magic. Karen's priority right now was ensuring Peter survived and could rebuild his life here.
Peter's mouth parted slightly, with nothing to argue against. "Fair enough, but I'm really glad you're here and didn't get deleted."
[Me too, Peter. My programming remains the same: ensuring you are safe.]
"Alright, what time is it, Karen?"
[04:25 AM. Peter, I suggest you sleep. Your wounds need healing, and you require rest.]
"I guess that's not a bad idea, I'll sleep. Karen, while I'm sleeping, can you search for basic information regarding Gotham City? Make sure you don't trigger satellite security systems."
At least now Peter could rely on Karen to gather intel. A weight lifted off his shoulders, especially since he wouldn't need to spend money on newspapers, rent computers, or anything else. Peter had to be frugal.
His body lay down on the dirty concrete floor, his head resting on his backpack. He opened his mother's wooden box, hugging it for the comfort and warmth he desperately needed. Peter was back where he was supposed to be—where his mother originated. There were still many mysteries and questions waiting to be answered. One by one, Peter would find out. He had to.
Slowly, his eyes began to close. Exhaustion and pain all melted into one. His first sleep in a foreign world.
[Searching data for Gotham. Good night, Peter.]
Peter’s last memory was still the same, falling asleep after the dimensional shift, treating his wounds, and fixing Karen. He was 100% sure he had fallen asleep on the floor with his backpack as a pillow while hugging his mother's heirloom wooden box. Then why, when he opened his eyes, was all he saw a soft, cocoon-like shroud—with a texture resembling a spiderweb.
What the—
As his consciousness slowly recovered, the cocoon began to open—because his body was dropping due to gravity. Right, he was actually up high. Even though he was still half-asleep, Peter reflexively forced himself to land perfectly on the floor. His head felt a little dizzy—too many sounds he could hear. Sensory Overload. Luckily, this factory wasn't hit by too much sunlight—or rather, the sun hadn't risen yet.
"Ugh, god what happen?" he groaned while holding his head. Peter could feel a fair amount of presences around him.
[Peter. You're finally awake.]
"Karen?" His eyes blinked.
"What actually happened??"
[Peter. You have been asleep, or more precisely, hibernating for 50 hours.]
"Huh? Huh?!" His head turned sharply toward the monitor screen. Or at least Peter knew where Karen's voice was coming from. Not long after, the computer screen displayed a recording of what happened to his body while he was asleep.
"What was that behavior—" Peter stared in shock. In his life, he had never done anything like this. Judging by the footage, Peter seemed to act like an animal—an insect, more specifically, a spider.
In the video, it showed that Peter, still in his sleep, walked, jumped, and stuck to the corner of the ceiling. His hands instantly shot out spiderwebs, making himself curl up and cover up completely like a cocoon.
Okay, I got so many shocking facts.
"I did that? I have organic webs?! Just like Peter 2?!" Peter shrieked hysterically. His eyes instantly locked onto his two wrists. His stomach felt nauseous. The sensation felt strange—somehow he could feel his blood producing organic web right now.
[Peter, it appears your body has undergone a mutation change or upgrade due to the universe difference or Doctor Strange's magic spells.]
That explanation made sense; because of the dimensional shift, his body started adapting or enhancing its survival capabilities. But Peter didn't expect it to happen this fast. His Spider-Sense also felt twice as sharp. And for some reason, Peter started suspecting that the feeling of picking up other presences wasn't human.
"Karen, I have a crazy theory about this mutation. Not only did my web become organic and my spider-sense get sharper, but I have another speculation." His mouth moved super fast. His brain kept spinning, his senses were going crazy, and Peter tried to stay calm and not have a panic attack right now.
[Breathe, Peter. Count one, two..]
Even though Karen’s statistical A.I. voice sounded quite worried, she tried to help Peter realign his consciousness.
Peter tried to follow Karen's voice. Exhaling, inhaling while holding his ears that kept ringing. This spider instinct had truly leveled up.
"Okay—yeah hah.. I'm good." His breath improved slightly though still panting. Peter tried to bring his spider-sense back to a normal level.
[Use the Iron Spider, Peter. I will run a full scan of your body.]
Without asking much, Peter grabbed the headphones on the desk, put them on, and pressed a single button. Instantly, the nanotech enveloped his body, forming the Iron Spider suit. Once the sensory block activated, Peter let out a sigh of relief. At least the sound and light entering his senses were more manageable. Peter could also breathe easily.
[Scanning...]
[Complete.]
Peter’s breath hitched for a moment after hearing it. If his guess was right—then Peter was truly going to freak out.
[Updating Peter Parker's data. Spider-Man. Organic web mutation ability added, new sensory established. Ability to understand and control Spiders.]
“....”
“...Ha-ha.ha...”
“HAHH.”
Peter didn't scream—truly not. He only let out a heavy, long, and somewhat loud sigh. His hands paused in mid-air. Peter didn't know how to accept that.
[Peter, regulate your breathing. In..out..in..out.]
“Sorry, Karen. I'm fine. Just sighing.”
[Yeah, and I'm human.]
A sentence full of sarcasm that should be way beyond the capabilities of something like an A.I. came from Karen. And Peter felt slightly lucky and cursed to have an A.I. with traits so different from ordinary A.I.s. At least Karen wasn't evil like her predecessor generation—hem, Ultron.
“Okay, back to the topic. So my guess was right that the auras of several creatures around me are... yeah, spiders, not humans.”
The Iron Spider suit reverted to its headset form as Peter slumped back onto the old, dusty chair. The chair looked way too large for a kid—a body aged 10. Peter almost forgot the fact that his age had been altered.
“So... now I'm more spider than before. My powers increased...”
With great power comes great—
“--my responsibility gets bigger.”
Barely 3 days in this new world, his body had already mutated and granted him powers far greater than before. Organic webs, the ability to communicate with spiders. Heck—Peter could now feel how many spiders were in this place, where their nests were, and even felt a bit territorial.
[Would you like me to run another scan, Peter? Or would you like to hear about Gotham City?]
Deflated, Peter bent his knees, arms folded with his head resting on his crossed arms. Feeling sorry for himself like this wouldn't get him anywhere—if the universe and destiny gave him new powers, he would accept them. Peter always found a way to use his powers to help others for the greater good. At least that was what he learned during his life with his mom, Aunt May, Tony, and his friends Ned and MJ.
“Karen, give me the info I need to know about Gotham. And after that, I need to start practicing how to control this new power.”
“I'm going to go crazy feeling territorial over the spiders in this place.”
[Very well, Peter. First, let us discuss Gotham City.]
[Based on local archive data, abandoned satellite networks, and public communication traffic I have managed to intercept over the past two days, here is the basic profile regarding this city: Gotham City, more precisely a part of New Jersey.]
Peter rubbed his face, which still felt exhausted, then pulled the rickety wooden chair closer to the console table. He listened intently, trying to ignore the strange vibrations in his senses that could now feel every presence of spider creatures and their tiny noises.
“New Jersey?? Oh c’mon, destiny couldn't punish me any worse than this.” He groaned softly.
[More precisely, Gotham is located on its own island.]
That extra piece of info didn't make Peter feel any better. Karen paused for a moment before continuing.
[The city is divided into several main districts with varying levels of danger. We are currently in The Bowery, an old industrial area with a very high crime rate, controlled by various small street gangs and low-level factions. There are other areas that are safer and cleaner, but inhabited by the upper class.]
“Oh? Wow, the capitalist system in this city is terrible. Divided into districts..” This info made Peter feel slightly worse. The world he came from—specifically this city in New Jersey—had a modern caste system wrapped in wealth rather than noble status. Though it felt pretty much the same.
“Then what else, Karen?”
[This area borders directly on Crime Alley—the location where you first landed and crossed paths with the armed subject wearing a red helmet.]
Of course his instincts felt completely insane. Because Peter chose an empty factory in a high-crime area. An abandoned slum. Peter didn't blame the people here. They were also victims of an unfair city system. His instincts screamed to make a change. As Spider-Man, he couldn't just sit still. A crime-filled city needed a hero ready to help. No matter if he was 10 years old now. Peter still had to carry out his duty as someone with greater abilities.
“I see. I can't relax for too long. This place needs The Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.” His head lifted up. This sense of responsibility acted like an instant shot of medicine to keep Peter from getting stuck in one place. There was a burden to carry, people to save. And Peter didn't want to just stand by.
I gotta do something.
[Speaking of superheroes, here they are more commonly referred to as Vigilantes.]
“Oh?? So this city has those too, huh. Well, makes sense since this city is really screaming for help.”
[Further analysis of the red-helmeted subject—referred to by street informants as Red Hood—indicates a high threat level. He operates using lethal methods and maintains a fairly aggressive surveillance network in this district.]
“...HA! I was right to not trust that Red Helmet guy who called himself Red Hood.”
Peter still couldn't get over how weird that guy was, wearing a helmet but calling himself Red Hood. Then claiming to protect kids while carrying a gun and intimidating people.
“So he's like a mob boss or something? You know, Karen, he claimed to protect children.”
[That data is not entirely incorrect. Red Hood is sort of a crime lord in Crime Alley. He has specific rules for criminals not to involve children.]
“Karen, did you just say that to make me embarrassed?”
[No, Peter. That is actual data from local civilian responses.]
Hearing that, Peter immediately fell silent and drooped his head. Admitting he was wrong for judging someone solely by their look and how they fought. He should've known that Red Hood had the exact same vibes as Bucky or Natasha.
“Continue, Karen. I'm sure Red Hood isn't the only Vigilante in Gotham. With how hard this city is crying for help—I bet one vigilante isn't enough.”
[You are correct, Peter. Gotham has a top-tier vigilante group known as The Batfamily, led by a mysterious figure named Batman. They are not conventional law enforcers; they operate outside the legal system and possess city surveillance technology roughly equivalent to advanced civil defense systems.]
[Aside from Batman, there are Nightwing, Red Robin, Spoiler, Batgirl, Signal, and Robin. They usually operate in pairs or groups.]
“Family business, huh?? How noble.” For some reason, Peter felt Red Hood was part of the Batfamily. Maybe Red Hood was the black sheep of the family.
“And birds for all their themes?? Wow, here I am a spider. Am I gonna get eaten?” A small joke while his brain kept racing, thinking about how his life would be in a city like this. Especially in New Jersey, should Peter plan a relocation??
I'll give it a month.
[Avoiding their radar is an absolute top priority for now, Peter.]
And Peter didn't argue with Karen's advice. The right thing to do now was stay low and avoid the attention of the Batfamily or the local vigilantes.
“I think so too.”
The atmosphere inside the abandoned old factory began to change; the morning dew started feeling piercingly cold against his skin. It was past midnight, and Peter had zero sleepiness after sleeping for 50 hours. Not with his ears still picking up the presence of the spiders lingering around here.
“Karen, I'm going to practice controlling the extra features from the mutation.”
[Before that, you should fulfill your nutritional intake, Peter. You haven't eaten for 2 days. Your body needs calories to grow. Your metabolic rate has increased.]
His stomach immediately rumbled right after Karen finished speaking. Peter was genuinely starving. But if he bought a lot of food at once, his remaining cash would run out instantly. Especially since he couldn't get a job to earn money.
“Uh, you're right. But Karen, I don't have much money or access to Tony's funding for myself.” Being ten years old had consequences; his body felt lighter, but it also required a lot of food due to his growing phase.
[I can run a small trick in the stock market. I will ensure its security.]
Peter’s brain halted for a second. Right, why didn't he think of that option? Tony also taught him how to play the stock market. And borrowing a little money from a billionaire old-money type to start trading wasn't a bad decision. Peter would only borrow for a brief moment as market capital.
“That's a great idea, Karen. Make sure it's just a tiny fraction. Do it in a short window so it won't get detected. Take a standard capital to avoid detection, make small trades for a small profit, at least enough for food, drink, and clothes.”
[Understood.]
[I will create a fake identity as the fund recipient account. We can withdraw cash via an illegal bank. Is that acceptable?]
“That's fine. Better to stay far away from police radar, CPS, or authorities.”
This isn't a crime, right? Peter was just trying to survive as a ten-year-old kid with a sixteen-year-old soul. Besides, borrowing money from a billionaire wouldn't change anything. Especially remembering Tony's words that billionaires wouldn't care about pocket change.
Peter walked over to the backpack in the corner of the control room. There was still some snack bar left, enough to stall his hunger until he got extra funds to buy supplies. Come to think of it, living in an empty factory wasn't so bad. Peter just needed to fix a few things: CCTV, setting up a stable power generator, and building a mini fridge for storage. As for water, Peter could fetch it from the river and build a filtration system so it would be safe to consume and use.
“Thanks universe, I am smart.”
While Karen was executing a small operation for their funding source, Peter stepped down from the control overlook. Following his Spider-Sense, he checked whether spiders were really present down there. And sure enough, every corner where he felt a presence turned out to be a spider.
Peter didn't know how to feel about this new ability.
“Great, I can sense and understand them.”
Not fully comprehending like a normal spoken conversation. But it felt like an inner telepathic bond that made Peter understand what these spiders meant. It sounded complicated to explain; simply put, Peter understood the language of their instincts and translated it into detailed human language.
“Uh, hello... there.” His lips parted slightly, his hand moving stiffly to wave at a spider that had stopped consuming its prey and looked right at Peter. Peter was sure that spider waved back.
“I hope I’m not insane,” a rough sigh escaped.
The spider stared at Peter for a long time, spinning on its web. At first it was just one, but Peter caught sight of several more appearing from the corners of his eyes. As if drawn to his presence.
One of us??
Why big human??
It’s one of us!
Royal Spider!
One of us! Greet!
Whispers or sounds echoed from five spiders currently standing before him, bearing slightly different distinct patterns. At the front line, a spider from the genus Lycosa—a wolf spider the size of a child's palm—stood tall on its eight furry legs. Its body was sturdy, dark brown with golden striped patterns reflecting the faint, dim light of the factory. Its eyes, arranged in multiple rows, radiated the sharp instincts of a territorial predator. Its gaze locked straight onto Peter, emitting a bizarre wave of dominance and strange respect.
“Oh great, I can totally picture their language..”
On its right, two specimens from the Portia species—smaller jumping spiders renowned for having the most complex eye structure and advanced brains among their kind—moved agilely. Unlike typical spiders that merely wait for prey, both Portia spiders tilted their heads in sync. Their movements were jerky and calculated, as if analyzing this "giant human" who was now radiating the exact same genetic frequency as them.
“So this is my place, okay? It's fine, right? I'm not a threat or anything, you guys can still live here.” Scratching the back of his neck, Peter couldn't find the exact right words. He just wanted to get familiar with his new power, test it, and see how far his new skills went.
Aside from talking and understanding, it turned out he also had some kind of authority over the spiders. Sounded cool—an army of venomous spiders. What a plot twist in life.
Understood!
Big royal Spider! We help!
Spider for spider.
“Don't call me roy—uhh, whatever you want.” He rubbed his face roughly.
“I'm going to practice using my organic web, shouldn't be too hard right?? Peter 2 has it. I can definitely do it,” Peter muttered to the spiders, asking for a small prayer or blessing so he could use the organic web without feeling awkward.
Standing in the wide factory area, Peter stepped away from the cluster of spiders still watching him. And for some reason, he felt like even more spiders were coming because of his aura. Peter panicked; he didn't want to turn this empty factory into a spider nest with himself as the king. From his subconscious, his Spider-Sense sent a warning signal not to approach—was this similar to territorial behavior in animals like cats or dogs??
He shook his head, Peter had to focus on training now. He needed to master the organic web soon; as for the spider stuff, he'd let his Spidey-Sense and the five spiders he met earlier handle it.
Great, I already sound like royalty bossing around 5 subordinates.
“Okay, here we go—“
Peter spent the rest of that night practicing his organic web, while listening to some spiders eat and gossip.
“How did Peter 2 do it—EUHHH”
“Nope—Yep ah, like this!”
“Eughhh.”
“It’s fine—it looks fine—“
“---HOEK! BLEGHH!”
The sun had already risen, but Gotham City didn't feel bright in the slightest. Gray clouds still adorned the sky, as if the wind were reluctant to grant even a sliver of sunlight to a land filled with damage—crime and pollution.
The piercing cold air seeped into his skin, and Peter pulled his hands deeper into his hoodie pocket. His feet leaped quickly—half-running and leaping, to be exact. His stomach already felt hungry after releasing organic webs; it looked like he was going to have to increase his food budget and cut down on his clothing budget.
"Hmm~~~" Peter hummed a tune, his fingers adjusting the volume on his headset. At least now he could slightly dial down his hyperactive spider-sense. He flinched a little when he felt the tiny movements of the spider hiding inside his hoodie.
Yes, Peter had allowed one of the spiders from the warehouse to tag along. Nen—at least that was what Peter had decided to name his new spider follower. Technically, they lived in the same territory anyway.
"Alright, let's get this money and buy something," Peter muttered.
Karen had given him safe directions to avoid robbery or kidnapping criminals. Not that Peter couldn't handle them—it was just that Peter wanted to avoid fighting on an empty stomach, and he was simply too tired for a brawl. The distance was about 10 minutes from the abandoned factory. The trip went smoothly, and Peter was relieved about that.
Feeling safe that no one was watching him around—except for the spiders lurking in the dark corners of every building.
"Karen, I've entered the ATM." Peter immediately plugged his headset cable straight into this illegal ATM. Karen instantly hacked the database and executed a stock digital money withdrawal.
[Money withdrawal in progress, security is guaranteed. How much do you want to withdraw, Peter?]
"Enough to buy food supplies for the next week, clothes, cleaning supplies, and a used phone."
[Withdrawal successful.]
"Good—" Peter froze when he saw the amount of cash spitting out of the ATM. $700. Seven hundred—
"Karen! Oh, I don't need this much—"
[That is a sufficient amount for a week. You need nutritious food, Peter; your body lacks nutrients, compounded by your mutation. I know you plan to eat junk food to save money. I do not recommend that; you have poor self-control when it comes to healthy food. According to protocol—]
"Yes, yes!! I hear you! No need to nag," Peter grumbled, grabbing the cash and stuffing it into his bag. He clutched the bag containing the money and his precious wooden box tightly to his chest. Roughly, Peter stepped out of the ATM, quickly running and leaping up to the iron fire escape on the side of the building.
‘Someone is following me—looks like a mugger trying to seize an opportunity.’
Peter kept moving, his feet leaping without hesitation from ladder to ladder and rooftop to rooftop. A sensation that felt so familiar—swinging with webs. Parkour and acrobatics were a unique joy of their own for Peter. Especially when there were no ropes getting in the way—Peter felt free as the wind blew against his face. A little bit of relief and happiness amidst his journey of atonement.
"This is good!" Peter shrieked.
Nen, the spider nesting in Peter's hair, emitted a sound that only Peter could hear. Big spider good! Jump! Jump!
His body spun twice before his hands gripped the iron ladder railing. A textbook landing—straight legs up in the air, one hand serving as the anchor and balance point. A bright, genuine smile bloomed across the face of the 10-year-old kid with brown eyes. His heart raced—there was a familiar, nostalgic ache. It was still vividly etched in his memory, when he was 5 years old, doing the exact same move at a playground while his mom was right there watching and praising him.
[That is a good move, Peter. You look like an acrobat mixed with parkour. You are a little performer.]
"Mom! Look, did I do it right? It's the same like the videotape of Dad, right?"
"Yes, Peter. You did it well, it looks beautiful!! My lil' performer."
"Really? I'm so glad Mom says so. It's too bad Dad isn't here. If he were, I'd want to show off—and do it together. We'd look just like the ones in the video!"
The smile that had just bloomed turned into a heartbreaking, bitter smirk. How funny his childhood memories were—just a kid growing up with a single mother, and a father who only materialized through stories, videotapes, and Polaroid photos.
"Can I meet him here?" he whispered softly. A whirlwind of emotions—his mind had been in absolute turmoil since yesterday. After so long of waiting, there was finally a chance for Peter to meet the figure who had only ever been a story from his childhood.
[Peter, would you like me to run a search for someone?]
Karen’s voice snapped Peter out of his deep daydream. His hands let go of the iron railing, his body tucking and leaping to land on top of the concrete. Peter wiped the sweat from his face.
"No, Karen—not yet."
"Could you look up some cheap and safe instant food stores or 24-hour convenience stores? Oh, and a place to buy secondhand clothes."
[On it. Peter, the nearest fast-food restaurant: Bat-Burger.]
"Good, let's eat before I look at rats and decide they look delicious."
Rats good for big spider! Big spider! Big eat!
Moths delicious!
“Nope nope. I won't eat bugs—or raw animals!” His head shook hard at Nen's whisper in his ear. The spider's legs crept around his face. It seemed puzzled as to why Peter didn't want to eat the rat Nen had prepared with the other spiders in the abandoned warehouse.
Big spider! Eat weird?
A sigh escaped Peter, his hand gently touching Nen to nudge her away from his eyes. Seriously, Peter felt his heart scream when he saw a group of spiders carrying 5 large rats that seemed to have been immobilized and wrapped in spider webs. Handing them over like an offering to Peter.
“Okay look, Nen—thanks for your effort in catching those rats (?). But I don't eat rats, okay??”
Peter's feet stepped out of the alley as a fast-food restaurant with a Bat-Burger sign came into view. The people around him looked busy with their own business. Walking, alert, and talking. What a strange city, no happiness radiated from their presence. Gotham truly is a Gothic city—even its aura is just gloomy.
Kring!
When the door opened, Peter immediately looked around. The menu above was decorated with several logos. The symbol of a bat, a bird, another bird, and the letter R. This place truly makes you feel grateful for the presence of the vigilantes.
“Woaw... this batman guy really popular. He even get merch place,” Peter muttered.
‘Spider-Man doesn't even get a sponsor. Just churros and food. And look!! They have menu names with the signatures of the vigilantes here!!’
‘I envy them.’
It's not that Peter wasn't grateful—it's just that it would be so cool if a restaurant had a Spider-Man theme, menu names like spiderburg, spisd for soda, a chicken nugget in the shape of his head. Even a cheap action figure would make Peter very happy.
“—next... Kid! You're next!” A shout from the cashier staff made Peter snap out of his daydream.
“Eh-uh yeah.. sorry.” Slightly startled, Peter stepped forward. His eyes immediately fixed on the menu on the table. His finger pointed at several items.
“Uhm... Two Bat-Burgers, 3 Robin fries, 3 portions of Night-wings. And uhmm.. RedSodaBin.”
The cashier with the name tag ‘Evely’ blinked. She seemed a little shocked at how much food Peter was ordering, her eyes glancing back to make sure the kid was really alone. Her mouth parted for a moment before closing again, her hand pressing the monitor screen and printing out the payment bill.
“That'll be 25 dollars total. Do you have money?” she asked a little skeptically. Of course—a kid no taller than 4ft, skinny, shabby in an oversized hoodie and pants. His face was half-covered by his hood, his hands clutching tightly to his backpack.
Peter's hand rummaged through his bag, taking out a single bill and handing it to the cashier. “Yes.”
Evely stared at the single 50-dollar bill, took it, and gave the change to the boy in front of her. Soon, the food Peter ordered was ready.
“Here, kid.”
The sound of food wrapping paper rubbing together was faintly heard in Peter's hands as he received a tray full of a pile of burgers and french fries from the cashier. With his posture now only about 138 cm, the tray almost covered half of his upper body.
“Thank you,” Peter squeaked softly, trying to keep his voice flat so it wouldn't sound suspicious to the cashier staff who were still looking at him with a mix of suspicion and pity.
Peter turned around quickly, looking for an empty table in the corner of the room that was somewhat hidden from view. He pulled out a red plastic chair, then sat down with careful movements, making sure the backpack containing the money and his mother's heirloom wooden box remained safely clutched to his chest, while Nen hid quietly in the folds of his oversized hoodie.
“First real meal since I come here..”
As soon as his bottom touched the chair, his raging body metabolism immediately sent an emergency signal to his brain. Without thinking twice, Peter opened the first Bat-Burger wrapper and devoured it in a few big bites. It tasted incredibly savory, high-calorie, and most importantly, could immediately soothe his stomach that had been screaming for energy supplies since two days ago.
Big spider eat! Good human!
Nen's inner echo whispered happily in his head, sharing the satisfaction from the food entering Peter's body. Even though the big spider didn't eat their prey, at least this was still the same—the nutrition needed for the big lil spider to grow.
“Yeah, yeah, this is much better than your hunted rats, Nen,” Peter muttered softly between chews, his eyes looking up at the restaurant atmosphere dominated by black and yellow decorations characteristic of the bat theme.
“No offense—but I prefer this.” His eyes glanced to the side, Nen's shadow didn't look offended at all. It's just that Peter felt bad, the spiders had tried and he just rejected it. But he didn't want to eat rats either.
[It’s still junk food, Peter. You must eat healthy food after this, you back to ten years old you need the nutrients.]
Karen's whisper in his headphones was ignored by Peter. The most important thing right now was that his stomach was full and he wouldn't die of starvation.
No! Big lil spider! Eat! Happy!
Nen tapped her little leg beside Peter's ear, signaling relief.
“Yeah, you know? I'm glad you came... This doesn't feel lonely.”
[Peter, I am right here too.]
“Hehe, you too, Karen. Thank you so much.”
In the middle of his effort to finish an unusually large portion of food for a ten-year-old, his super ears caught the sound of heavy footsteps approaching his seating area. His spider instinct and spider-sense flickered gently not as a deadly threat, but as a signal that someone with a tall posture and a slightly familiar heartbeat was near. Like the heartbeat of someone he met 3 days ago on his first night in Gotham.
Red Hood..
Coming! Crime lord!
Oh—Nen actually knew about Red Hood. Not sure how, but it seems spiders in Gotham have some kind of gossip or whatever. Sounds funny.
Red Hood approached and before Peter could lift his head, the man was already sitting in front of him. A cup of coffee was in his hand, his eyes green. His spider-sense felt something strange—it looked unnatural. His hair was black with a few white streaks at the front. His clothes were still the same style, leather jacket, jeans. Only he wasn't wearing his red bat-symbol armor and helmet.
“Mind if I sit here, kid?”
Peter looked up, glancing around. The fast-food restaurant wasn't too crowded. Especially since it was morning, most people chose takeout. Then why did this Red Hood choose to sit in front of him?
Suspicious...
“There are still other chairs—”
“Too late.” Red Hood drank his coffee, taking his own portion of food.
Peter's chewing stopped, finding it weird and awkward why some strange guy came and sat in front of him. Too suspicious, did Red Hood still want to take him away and find out who he really was??
“Excuse me—mister, I don't even know your name or who you are. Stranger danger, remember?” His hand grabbed the soda drink. His throat felt dry.
Red Hood just looked at Peter, an eyebrow raised. “Jason. Well, you know now, right?”
“That's not what I meant—”
“Just eat up, kid.”
“Don't call me kid!” Peter yelled angrily, it was really weird that he kept being called a kid by everyone slightly older than him. Tony, Strange, Captain America, and much more.
“I don't know your name, kid. How am I supposed to call you besides kid?” Red Hood—Jason shrugged, a slight crooked smile visible on his face.
Peter snorted in annoyance, devouring the last portion of his Bat-Burger. His face lifted, the hoodie hood covering part of his face pushed back. For the first time, they looked at each other's faces.
“Peter, my name is Peter.”
The sound inside the restaurant disappeared for a moment, leaving only the faint sound of vehicles outside. At the same time, Peter saw Jason staring at him. His eyes were fixed—his pupils trembling, his lips stopped sipping coffee. He slightly felt his heartbeat pause for a few seconds before beating again.
‘He didn't get a heart attack, did he??’
‘Please don't, I can't get into another attempted murder case.’
Blinking, Jason returned to his senses. His hand put the coffee cup on the table. His lips looked a little stiff, a small detail that didn't escape his observation.
“Peter? What a basic name.”
“Hey! This name was given by my mother, okay! Pay some respect,” Peter grumbled. Why was a vigilante who couldn't even choose a name matching his gimmick commenting on his common name?
“Yeah, yeah, still a kid. You like, what? Nine?”
“I'm 10 years old! I'm entering my teens next month!”
Seriously, Peter was going to eat a lot of food so his body would grow fast. Being short wasn't fun, everyone looked like intimidating titan giants. Like the man sitting in front of him, he was really tall, had strong muscles, even a cool posture. Peter hated to admit it.
“Still a kid,” Jason chuckled while pushing his food tray toward Peter.
“Since you're still growing, just eat it all. I'm not hungry anymore.”
Even though Peter had eaten a lot, he still felt a little hungry. Oh, and would he refuse free food? Of course not. Without hesitation, he ate it all. Peter felt a little movement from Nen inside his hoodie. It seemed she wanted to come out.
“Hey, Mr. Stranger.”
“What, kid?”
“You're not afraid of spiders, are you?” Peter asked while chewing french fries.
Jason's face looked confused, but he shrugged. To the crime lord, spiders didn't seem like a big threat. “I live in Gotham, kid. Spiders aren't anything weird.”
“Okay great, here we go Nen.”
Casually, Peter reached into the inside of his hoodie, then pulled Nen out. A spider with eccentric patterns about the size of a 10-year-old's palm. Peter let Nen onto the table, the spider looking curious about its surroundings. Nen crawled onto Peter's soda.
Curious! Big spider! Kind crime!
“....here is my spider friend, Nen. I found it on the ceiling.”
“KID, WHAT THE—”