Pain.
A searing, bone-deep ache spread through his entire body like wildfire, as if every cell was being torn apart and forced to knit itself back together in a way that wasn't natural. His lungs burned as if they had been without oxygen for far too long, and his heart slammed against his ribs like it was trying to escape.
'Where… am I?'
His eyelids fluttered open, and at first, all he saw was light. Blinding, sterile, artificial light. His vision was hazy, like he was underwater, his thoughts sluggish as if he had been drugged.
But then, the memories came.
Flashes of a life—two lives—colliding.
One was his own, a normal guy from a normal world, where superheroes were nothing but fictional characters in comics and movies. A world where Peter Parker was a name known through pop culture, not someone who actually existed.
But the other?
The other was Ethan Carter.
Born and raised in Queens, New York. Best friends with Peter Parker since childhood. A science nerd who spent his time between school, his part-time job, and hanging out with Pete, never knowing his best friend was Spider-Man—until the day he was taken.
Ethan gasped, sitting up so fast that his head spun. His breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession as he processed the impossible.
He wasn't just himself anymore. He was Ethan Carter.
He could remember growing up with Peter.
He could remember playing video games in Peter's tiny room, complaining about homework, eating Aunt May's cookies.
He could remember his parents dying in a car crash two years ago, how Peter and Aunt May had been the only ones there for him.
He could remember the day he was kidnapped.
The van that pulled up beside him on his way home. The masked men that grabbed him. The needle plunging into his neck before everything faded to black.
And now—now he was here.
A deep, shuddering breath left him.
His body wasn't just his anymore. It was theirs. His old self and Ethan Carter had merged. There was no separation, no 'other' person fighting for control. They were one.
And in his veins, thrumming beneath his skin, was something new.
A power. A force that hadn't been there before.
Adaption.
He didn't know how he knew that. He just did.
Like it had always been part of him.
But before he could process any further, a deafening crash shattered the silence.
(Line break)
The facility trembled.
A red emergency light began flashing overhead, and the distant sound of fighting echoed through the steel hallways.
CRACK!
A metallic scream tore through the air as something—or someone—ripped through the walls.
Then, in an instant, the heavy steel door to his containment cell was torn off its hinges.
Ethan barely had time to react before a figure in red and blue landed in the doorway, breathing heavily, chest rising and falling as if he had just fought through hell itself to get here.
A mask. White expressive lenses narrowing in a mix of shock and relief.
Spider-Man.
No—Peter.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Peter's hands trembled slightly at his sides. "Ethan?"
Ethan's throat tightened. The emotions of two lives crashed over him like a tidal wave. The part of him that had just transmigrated—the part that still struggled with the impossible reality of waking up in Marvel—felt overwhelmed.
But the part of him that had been Ethan Carter for his entire life felt something else entirely.
Because this wasn't just Spider-Man.
This was Peter. His best friend.
His voice cracked when he spoke. "P-Pete…"
Peter ripped off his mask.
Underneath, his face was a mess of emotions—relief, shock, guilt, and something dangerously close to tears. His brown eyes, wide and filled with raw emotion, searched Ethan's face like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Then, before Ethan could say another word, Peter lunged forward and pulled him into the tightest hug imaginable.
Ethan froze.
He could feel Peter shaking.
"Oh my god," Peter's voice wavered. "I thought—I thought you were dead."
Ethan's breath caught in his throat.
Peter thought he was dead.
Of course he did. Ethan had been gone for months. Vanished without a trace, kidnapped by people he didn't even remember. He could only imagine what Peter had gone through—what Aunt May had gone through—thinking he was never coming back.
A wet sensation hit Ethan's shoulder.
Peter was crying.
And something inside Ethan broke.
His arms moved on instinct, clutching Peter just as tightly. "I'm here," he said, his voice rough, hoarse. "I don't know how, but—I'm here."
Peter let out a shaky laugh, like he was trying to pull himself together but failing. "You absolute idiot. Do you have any idea how much I—" He stopped, inhaled sharply, then shoved Ethan back slightly to look at him.
His eyes flicked over Ethan's form, scanning him for injuries. "Are you okay? What did they do to you? I swear to god, if they—"
"I'm fine," Ethan cut in. He wasn't sure if that was technically true, but he didn't want Peter panicking.
Peter didn't look convinced.
But before he could press the issue, another loud explosion rocked the facility.
Peter's head snapped up, alarm flashing across his face. "Crap. We need to go."
Ethan nodded. He had way too many questions, but now wasn't the time.
Peter pulled his mask back on. "Can you walk?"
Ethan tested his legs, standing slowly. His body still felt off, like something inside him was constantly shifting—adjusting. But he could move.
"I'll manage."
Peter gave a firm nod, then grabbed his wrist. "Then hold on tight."
And then, with a single, powerful leap, Spider-Man carried him out of the lab.
(Line break)
The city never slept.
Even at this hour, New York was alive. The hum of traffic, the glow of neon lights, the distant chatter of people—it all blended together into an endless rhythm, a pulse that made the world feel real.
Ethan felt the cold night air rush past him as Peter swung between the towering skyscrapers of Manhattan, carrying him with one arm like it was nothing. The city blurred below them, his stomach lurching with every movement, but Peter's grip was firm—steady.
Ethan knew he wasn't going to fall.
And yet, as they moved, something felt… off.
Not physically—his body was fine, better than fine actually—but his senses were sharper.
He could hear things he wasn't supposed to hear. Conversations from blocks away, the faint clink of a soda can being kicked across the pavement, even the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of Peter's heartbeat.
His skin tingled, hyper-aware of the world around him. The air was cold against his face, but not uncomfortably so. In fact… he felt perfectly fine.
He shouldn't have.
He had just woken up in a lab, been unconscious for who-knows-how-long, and had been yanked into the air at breakneck speed. But instead of feeling groggy, weak, or nauseous, his body was adapting.
Fast.
He closed his eyes, taking a slow breath. His heartbeat was steady. His muscles felt strong, responsive. It was as if his body had already adjusted to the sensation of being swung through the city at high speeds.
Adaption.
The word surfaced in his mind again, sending a chill down his spine.
That was his power. It had been buried inside him the moment he woke up, and now… now it was working.
He just didn't know how far it could go.
"Hey."
Peter's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Ethan turned his head slightly, watching as Peter angled his web-line to shift directions.
"You're awfully quiet," Peter said, his tone light but laced with concern. "You okay?"
Ethan hesitated.
How the hell was he supposed to answer that?
Oh yeah, Pete, I'm great. Just woke up in a secret lab, found out I have superpowers, and oh—by the way—my soul fused with your best friend's and I'm technically not the same person anymore.
…Yeah. No.
Instead, he forced a weak chuckle. "Yeah. Just… processing everything."
Peter didn't respond right away.
Ethan could tell he wasn't buying it.
"…I get it," Peter finally said, voice softer now. "You don't have to talk about it if you're not ready. I just—" He sighed, tightening his grip slightly as he swung them over another building. "I thought I lost you, man."
Something clenched in Ethan's chest.
Peter had grieved for him.
Had spent months thinking Ethan was dead.
The weight of that realization made it even harder to lie to him.
"…I know," Ethan murmured. "I'm sorry."
Peter exhaled, shaking his head. "Not your fault."
And just like that, he let it drop.
Ethan wanted to say more, to explain—but now wasn't the time.
So he stayed quiet, letting Peter carry him through the night, the city lights shining beneath them as they headed home.
(Line break)
The moment Peter landed on the fire escape of his apartment, Ethan felt something inside him unclench.
This place—it was familiar.
Even if he wasn't originally from this world, the part of him that was Ethan Carter knew this apartment like the back of his hand.
Peter let go of him, pushing open the window. "Come on, we'll sneak in this way."
Ethan climbed inside without hesitation. The small bedroom was exactly how he remembered—cramped, a little messy, with posters of nerdy sci-fi movies pinned to the walls. Peter's desk was cluttered with textbooks and half-finished homework, and his closet had way too many red and blue hoodies.
For the first time since waking up, Ethan felt something close to normal.
But the moment of peace didn't last long.
Because the second Peter shut the window, a voice called from the hallway:
"Peter? Is that you?"
Ethan froze.
He'd recognize that voice anywhere.
Aunt May.
The door opened, and there she was—dressed in a nightgown, her gray-streaked brown hair slightly messy from sleep. Her tired eyes met Ethan's, and she stopped breathing.
Ethan swallowed. "H-Hey, Aunt May."
Silence.
Then—
She burst into tears.
Before Ethan could react, May rushed forward and wrapped him in a hug so tight it knocked the breath out of him. He stiffened, shock freezing him in place.
"Oh, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You're alive. You're alive."
Ethan's throat felt tight.
For the first time since waking up in this world, the weight of it all truly hit him.
This woman—this kind, loving woman—had thought she lost him.
And now she was holding him like she never wanted to let go.
Slowly, hesitantly, Ethan lifted his arms and hugged her back. "…I'm home," he murmured.
She let out a shaky breath, holding him even tighter.
Peter watched silently from the side, his expression unreadable. But the relief in his eyes was clear.
After a long moment, May finally pulled back, wiping her tears. She cupped Ethan's face, scanning him up and down like she couldn't believe he was real.
"I don't understand," she admitted. "Where have you been? What happened to you?"
Ethan hesitated.
He couldn't tell her the full truth.
"…I don't know," he lied. "I don't remember much. Just… pain. And then I woke up in that lab."
It wasn't entirely false.
May's expression wavered with concern, but she didn't push. Instead, she took a deep breath and gave a firm nod.
"Well," she said gently. "You're safe now. And you're staying here. For as long as you need."
Ethan blinked. "I—"
"No arguments." Her voice left no room for protest. "You have nowhere else to go, and you are not spending another night alone after what you've been through."
Ethan's chest tightened.
She was serious.
Even though he had been missing for months—even though she barely had any answers—she still opened her arms and welcomed him home.
Aunt May had always been like this.
Warm. Loving. Selfless.
Ethan never realized just how much he missed her until now.
"…Okay," he murmured. "I'll stay."
May smiled through her tears.
And for the first time since waking up, Ethan let himself believe—just for a moment—that maybe everything would be okay.
(Line break)
Ethan stood in the small bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror.
Peter and May had already gone to bed, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He had planned to sleep too—he really had—but something felt wrong.
His body was changing.
It wasn't dramatic. He didn't suddenly grow taller or bulk up like a superhero overnight. But as he lifted his hands, turning them over in the dim light, he could feel it.
A tightness in his muscles.
A density to his bones.
His body felt… sturdier.
Not just in the way someone felt after a good workout—something deeper. Like his body was rebuilding itself from the inside out.
He clenched his fist, watching the way his tendons flexed beneath his skin. Sharper. Smoother. More efficient.
His mind raced.
This wasn't normal.
He knew his power worked through adapting to threats. That's how it functioned. That's how it was designed.
So why was it activating now?
Then it hit him.
The experiments.
Whoever had taken him—whoever had locked him in that lab—had done something to him.
The old Ethan Carter had been a normal human before he was taken. But now? His new Adaption ability recognized whatever had been done to his body as a threat.
And it was fixing it.
Erasing it.
Making sure it never happened again.
Ethan took a deep breath, gripping the edge of the sink. His heart pounded.
He had no idea what those scientists had done to him. No memories of their tests, their goals, or their methods. But his power did.
And it was working to ensure that nothing like that would ever happen again.
That meant…
No cloning. No replication. No forced mutations.
His DNA was locking itself down, becoming untouchable.
Nobody would ever be able to copy him.
Nobody would ever be able to use him as an experiment again.
His Adaption had already begun.
Ethan exhaled slowly, lifting his gaze back to the mirror.
His reflection stared back at him—familiar, yet not.
His face looked the same, but his eyes…
They felt sharper.
More aware.
This was real.
(Line break)
The smell of bacon and eggs pulled Ethan out of a restless sleep. His mind was still foggy from the night before, his body aching in ways he couldn't quite explain. It wasn't painful, but there was a strange sense of tightness—like his body had gone through an intense workout while he slept.
As he pushed himself up, the bed creaked beneath him, and he noticed it immediately.
The air felt different.
The world seemed… clearer.
His heartbeat was steady, stronger than he remembered. He could hear the sizzling of the bacon from the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator downstairs, even the faint rustling of a newspaper.
His senses were sharper.
His body felt stronger.
It wasn't a drastic transformation—he wasn't suddenly a muscle-bound superhuman—but he could tell something had shifted.
His Adaption was still working.
Last night, he had confirmed that his body was fixing what had been done to it. And now, after a few more hours, it was continuing to reinforce itself.
Not only had it erased any lingering effects from the experiments, but it was also enhancing his physical form—just enough to ensure he wouldn't be vulnerable again.
He rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension melt away.
His power was slow. It didn't make him an instant powerhouse—it required time, stress, and a challenge to grow. But even at this early stage, he could feel the difference.
He was stronger than he was yesterday.
And tomorrow, he'd be stronger than he was today.
That realization sent a chill down his spine.
Breakfast with the Parkers
When Ethan finally walked into the kitchen, he was met with a warm sight.
Aunt May was standing by the stove, flipping eggs like an expert, while Peter sat at the table, already halfway through his meal. A newspaper lay beside him, but his focus was split between eating and scrolling through his phone.
"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Peter said, glancing up. "You were out cold. Thought we were gonna have to send in a rescue team."
Ethan chuckled. "Guess I was more tired than I thought."
Truthfully, he had barely slept. His body had been going through changes all night, and his mind had been too wired to fully rest. But he wasn't about to say that out loud.
"Come, sit," Aunt May said, motioning to the table. "I made plenty."
Ethan slid into a chair across from Peter, grabbing a plate. The moment he took a bite, his stomach practically sang.
Food had never tasted this good before.
Had his taste buds adapted too?
No, that wasn't it. It wasn't that the food itself was any different—it was that his body was simply processing everything more efficiently. His senses were sharper. His metabolism was working better. Everything felt… more alive.
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Dude, you good? You look like you're about to marry that bacon."
Ethan blinked, realizing he had been staring at his food a little too intently. He quickly covered it up with a smirk. "What can I say? Aunt May's cooking is next-level."
Aunt May chuckled. "Flattery will get you more bacon."
Peter rolled his eyes. "Great. Now I have competition."
Ethan just grinned. But in the back of his mind, he was still processing everything.
He had no idea what his full potential was.
But if his Adaption kept improving him, even passively like this…
Then things were going to get very interesting from here on out.