After finishing his classes, Peter had a quick chat with Gwen and Harry before heading to Dr. Connors' lab.
Tonight was a big night—not just for Connors, but for Peter as well. He had been working on this project alongside the doctor, yet he had never witnessed a successful stage of the experiment. Every test subject so far had died immediately after the transfusion.
If this experiment worked, it would change the world. It could heal the sick, regrow limbs, and even eliminate disabilities.
But Peter also knew the dark side of science—what could be used for good could also be weaponized.
Still, for now, his focus was on helping Dr. Connors. He understood the man's struggle—the pain of losing a limb and the desperate desire to regain what was lost. The project's results were the only thing keeping the funding alive.
Peter had even reminded the doctor earlier, "Be careful in the testing phase, doc. Don't get too excited and rush it."
Now, standing in the lab, Peter felt his breath catch as Dr. Connors lifted a small cage.
"Look, Peter," the doctor whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "A miracle."
Inside the cage, a rat twitched—its once-missing limb had completely regrown.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then—a rush of excitement.
They had done it.
They had created something that could change lives forever.
"Wonderful, doc," Peter said, keeping his voice steady despite his own excitement. "What now?"
"I've been monitoring the test subjects for days. No negative effects so far—not even in different environments. It's time for the next step."
Dr. Connors motioned toward his assistants. They brought in the next test subject—a monkey with a missing hand.
Peter watched carefully as the animal was sedated, prepped, and injected with the serum.
The reaction was immediate.
The monkey let out a piercing scream, its body convulsing violently.
The lab fell silent, the sound of pained shrieks ringing in their ears.
Then—nothing.
The animal collapsed.
And before their very eyes, a new hand began to grow.
But something was wrong.
Peter's sharp eyes caught the disturbing changes first.
"Wait. No one go in."
The assistants froze as Peter stepped closer to the glass.
The monkey's new hand wasn't just regrown—it was covered in scales. The nails were longer, sharper.
"Check everything," Connors ordered, his excitement shifting into cautious concern.
This was a partial success—but no product could go public with a side effect like this.
Not unless someone wanted to turn humans into monsters.
Dr. Connors couldn't wait for the subject to wake up on its own. He grabbed a mechanical arm and prodded the unconscious animal.
The monkey's eyes snapped open.
Peter's stomach dropped.
Its pupils were slit—reptilian.
The creature stared at them, its gaze filled with something unnatural.
Then—it started thrashing.
The once-docile monkey became violent, feral.
Peter felt a chill run down his spine. "It's a failure."
Connors gritted his teeth. "Find out what went wrong."
Peter's mind raced. What had caused this?
"It's affecting its mental faculties," Peter muttered. "Or maybe the mutation is triggering aggression."
"Could be a clash of species traits," Connors replied. "We'll need more tests to be sure."
The team worked late into the night, analyzing the results, searching for answers.
But the issues were clear—
Uncontrolled mutations.Heightened aggression.
Even if one of these problems could be fixed, the serum might still have a future.
For military applications.
The government wouldn't mind a few mutations as long as the product was effective.
By the time Peter checked the clock, it was 10 P.M.
The entire lab was exhausted.
Everyone except Peter.
Leaving the team to take a much-needed break, Peter stepped outside.
His radio crackled to life.
"All units, we have an armed robbery in progress—requesting backup!"
Peter smirked, rolling his shoulders.
'It's hero time.'
With a quick motion, he suited up, webbed his way onto a nearby rooftop, and swung into the night.
Tonight, science had almost changed the world.
But for now, it was Spider-Man's turn to make a difference.
A few miles away from ESU, chaos exploded onto the streets.
A tall, muscular man stood in the wreckage of a demolished bank entrance, clad in a bizarre red-and-blue suit, accented with grey tactical pants.
Electricity crackled around his body as he stood triumphantly, surveying the destruction he had caused.
This was the newest villain to hit the city—Supercharger.
But this wasn't just about robbery or greed.
No, this was revenge.
Ronnie Hilliard had once been a man of science.
His father was a renowned researcher, fascinated by the growing presence of superhumans. He had spent his life studying mutagenic effects, trying to unlock the secrets of those with extraordinary abilities.
Ronnie had worked alongside his father, helping with experiments and fueling his own curiosity.
Then, one day—disaster struck.
An experiment went wrong when two super-powered individuals fought too close to the facility.
The battle damaged the lab's power generator.
A catastrophic explosion followed.
Ronnie barely survived. His father did not.
When he woke up in the hospital, the world felt different.
His rage burned hotter than anything he had ever felt.
His body had changed, crackling with a terrifying new power.
But the true horror was what followed.
The so-called "heroes"—those superpowered freaks—offered him nothing but a half-hearted apology.
No justice. No retribution.
The villain responsible walked free.
And the hero involved?
They had probably already forgotten.
The grief, the betrayal, and his newly mutated physiology pushed him into madness.
If the world worshipped these monsters, then he would force them to see the truth.
He would make them suffer.
And he would turn the people against their so-called heroes.
Supercharger grinned, his eyes glowing with an unnatural blue light as the power surged through him.
"Have a taste of my power! You all love Thor, don't you?!" he taunted, electricity surging from his fingertips.
A blinding arc of lightning tore through the street, obliterating two police cars in a fiery explosion.
Officers scrambled for cover, their bullets proving useless as they disintegrated before touching him.
"I think this isn't marvelous enough!" Supercharger sneered. "Let me show you something better!"
Reaching up, he grabbed a bundle of overhead power lines.
A violent crackling noise filled the air as he ripped them free, the city block immediately losing power.
The energy flowed into his body, his muscles bulging, his veins glowing.
The night lit up with raw, unstable electricity.
And then—
THWIP!
The new hero landed gracefully under a still-working streetlight.
Spider-Man.
Peter tilted his head, looking at the destruction before speaking in a casual, amused tone.
"Hey, guys, having some trouble again?" he called out to the terrified officers.
Then, turning toward Supercharger, he continued, "Dude, seriously? A power outage? Come on, man. Do you know how boring life gets when the Wi-Fi goes out? People are gonna lose their minds!"
Supercharger turned, his face twisting in rage.
"That's exactly what I want, freak!"
Peter crossed his arms, tapping his foot.
"Ouch. Freak? That hurts my feelings. I look awesome in this suit, unlike you. What is that even supposed to be? Did your husband make it for you?"
Supercharger's eye twitched.
"You little—!"
His body flared with electricity as he launched a lightning blast at Peter.
Peter's Spidey-Sense screamed.
He flipped backward, the bolt barely missing him and incinerating a parked car.
'Damn, I almost died.'
Peter landed on a lamp post, his expression turning serious.
"You wanna play with lightning?" Peter muttered, eyes narrowing. "Fine. Let's play."
He fired several wind bullets, small but powerful compressed bursts of air, that struck Supercharger's body.
The impact disrupted his electrical currents, making his power unstable.
Before Supercharger could react—
THWIP!
Peter webbed his chest and yanked with all his strength, pulling him away from the power lines.
The moment Supercharger hit the ground—
Peter smashed into him with both feet.
BOOM!
The street shook as Supercharger's body was driven into the pavement.
Peter's eyes widened slightly.
'Oh, shit.'
Supercharger wasn't moving.
Peter knelt down, hesitating.
"Uh… hey, are you alive?"
Supercharger groaned weakly, blood trickling from his forehead.
His body twitched, electricity still flickering around his wounds.
His breathing was shallow—his bones fractured, his body barely holding itself together.
Peter swallowed.
He hadn't meant to hit him that hard.
'No. Control. Always control.'
Peter took a deep breath.
Then—sirens.
The police rushed in, weapons raised but still hesitant to get too close.
Peter stood up and turned toward them.
Peter stood on the cracked pavement, surrounded by stunned police officers and a few brave onlookers who had stuck around despite the chaos.
Supercharger groaned in pain, his body twitching slightly as residual electricity crackled over his torn suit.
Peter exhaled and looked at the destruction around him.
Buildings were scarred, streetlights fried, and parts of the road were charred black from the intense heat of Supercharger's attacks.
The police officers looked at Spider-Man, their faces a mixture of awe, confusion, and caution.
Peter dusted off his suit and gestured toward the half-melted rooftop where Supercharger had fired his strongest blast.
"Okay, guys. You can handle it from here." Peter said casually, stretching his arms.
"He's pretty much crippled, so he shouldn't be hard to move around."
One of the officers hesitated before speaking.
"You went a little hard on him, don't you think?"
Peter tilted his head, his usual playful demeanor gone.
"You really think I went too hard?" Peter asked, his tone firm but calm. He pointed again at the destroyed rooftop.
"Look at that damage."
The officers followed his gaze, seeing the charred remains of what had once been solid concrete and steel.
"Now imagine if that blast had been a little lower."
The crowd shuddered at the realization. If the attack had hit the street instead of the roof—
There wouldn't have been anyone left to argue about Spider-Man's methods.
The officers didn't reply.
Peter sighed. "Listen, he had no intention of leaving this place without killing you all. I stopped him before it got to that point."
One of the younger officers stepped forward, eyes narrowing slightly.
"What are you?" he asked.
Peter blinked.
"Come again?"
"Are you a mutant? An alien? Or… one of us?"
Peter let out a light chuckle, shaking his head.
"Does it really matter?" he said, crossing his arms.
The officer hesitated. The way Peter phrased it made him realize how dumb the question sounded.
Peter continued, his voice carrying a rare seriousness.
"I do good because I want to. Not because I have to, not because of what I am. What I am doesn't change what I do."
The officers remained silent, absorbing his words.
Peter sighed, glancing at the small crowd that had gathered at a safe distance.
"You guys should really stop thinking of mutants as your enemies."
That got a few reactions. Some of the cops frowned, others looked away.
Peter wasn't blind. He knew the deep-rooted prejudice against mutants. The media fed it, and society embraced it.
But he wasn't about to let it slide.
"Mutants are just like humans." Peter continued. "Good and bad. The only difference is that they're born with powers."
He glanced at Supercharger, barely conscious.
"And last time I checked, not all superhumans were mutants. Some are just like him—regular guys who got powers and made the wrong choices."
The officers exchanged awkward glances. They weren't expecting a lecture from Spider-Man tonight.
Peter smirked.
"I'll stop here, but you get the point."
He shot a web at a nearby lamppost.
"See you next time."
And with that, he disappeared into the night.
As he swung through the city, Peter's mind shifted gears.
'Where's Jess?'
Jessica was supposed to be training tonight.
Peter had put together a strict training regimen for her, and while he wasn't exactly her coach, he was keeping an eye on her progress.
'She better not have skipped it.'
Jessica was strong, no doubt about it. But she still had gaps in her combat skills that needed fixing.
Still, knowing Jess, she could be anywhere.
He needed to check in.
Swinging up to a high rooftop, Peter perched on the edge and pulled out his modified communicator.
It wasn't the most high-tech thing in the world, but it let him keep in touch with his fellow team mates.