The next morning, the piercing wail of police sirens shattered the tranquility of the suburbs...
A police car pulled up outside the long-abandoned chemical plant, yellow crime scene tape cordoning off the area.
The previous night's intense gunfight had been heard by residents living nearby, prompting calls to the police station.
Two uniformed officers stepped out of the car and entered the derelict factory, the air thick with the musty stench of decay.
What greeted them was a horrifying scene: a hulking, muscular man lay sprawled on the ground, his arm twisted at an unnatural angle, a pool of blood staining the concrete.
His bulging eyes suggested he had suffered immense agony before death. The walls were riddled with bullet holes, clear evidence of a fierce shootout.
Ascending the stairs, they found more bodies strewn across the floor, each clutching firearms. Most had their throats crushed or necks snapped.
Based on the officers' experience, the perpetrator had been ruthlessly efficient, possessing inhuman strength to break a grown man's neck in an instant.
Their gaze finally settled on the middle-aged man in the suit. His lifeless eyes were frozen in an expression of shock and terror, as if he couldn't believe what had happened even in death.
"Looks like we've got our work cut out for us," the younger officer said excitedly.
As a rookie, he relished the chance to tackle a major case like this.
"Don't get ahead of yourself. This won't be easy to solve, there's barely any evidence." The older officer dampened his enthusiasm.
Judging by the crime scene, the killer was likely a professionally trained assassin or mercenary. To take down so many armed men with such brutal efficiency was terrifying to think about.
"This guy seems to be one of Frank D'Amico's men. Maybe a gang feud?" The younger cop recognized the dead middle-aged man.
The older officer shook his head, "Whatever it is, it's not our problem. We just need to file the report."
He knew there was a specialized agency that handled cases like this. The police department's confidential files were always handed over to those black-suited agents.
Even the usually irritable police chief treated them with deference, a testament to the terrifying authority their shadowy organization wielded.
"Secure the scene. Maybe we'll find something useful. Either way, we'll leave it to them..." The older cop patted his partner on the shoulder.
Some truths were better left unexplored because the reality behind them was often too much to bear.
.....
~10:00 AM~
Bright sunlight streamed through the classroom windows, illuminating the noisy chatter of students...
Leaning back in his seat, Sean idly observed Peter Parker, who seemed unusually energetic today...
The once-timid bookworm now radiated confidence, his voice louder, and his movements brimming with vitality. The transformation was so drastic, that even his best friend (Harry Osborn) was taken aback.
Seated at his desk, Sean allowed a faint smirk. He might be the only one who knew the reason.
In his perception, the formerly weak Peter had undergone a metamorphosis; his muscles now packed with strength, his reflexes sharpened to superhuman levels. The genetically enhanced spider had granted him extraordinary physical prowess and some truly bizarre powers.
'Still, compared to me, he's not quite there yet...'
Sean mentally compared himself to Peter, concluding that in a real fight, he could still hand the fledgling Spider-Man a crushing defeat.
Basking in the midday sun, Sean felt a surge of satisfaction. Lately, he had been pushing his body to its limits through grueling training, which accelerated his energy absorption.
Even after extreme workouts, his physical stats continued to rise... a fact that delighted him. As long as there was room for growth, he could keep getting stronger.
In a world teeming with cosmic-level entities, Sean would never be content with his current strength. He aimed to grow powerful enough to carve out his own place in this world...
.....
Another mind-numbingly dull afternoon passed...
Sean quickly packed his bag, eager to return home for his daily training regimen, and to finalize plans for his 'friendly visit' to Frank D'Amico.
The West Coast drug lord would never expect a high schooler meticulously plotting the annihilation of him and his entire gang...
"Whoa, you won't believe it... Peter just beat the crap out of Thompson from the football team!"
"You mean that nerd, Peter Parker?"
"Yeah, 'Puny Parker'! He pissed Thompson off in the cafeteria, and when Thompson tried to jump him in the hallway, Peter wrecked him!"
"Did he take steroids or something? Thompson's built like a tank!"
Listening to the hushed gossip, Sean stifled a laugh. Peter Parker was no longer the pushover he once was...
Soon enough, New York would gain a red-and-blue suited vigilante, swinging from skyscrapers and taking down criminals with effortless grace.
At dismissal, Sean watched Peter stride out of the school gates head held high, a far cry from his former timid self.
Such was the transformative power of strength...
.....
Walking home, Sean suddenly sensed something amiss... an unnerving feeling of being watched.
Suppressing the urge to turn around, he casually stopped at a convenience store for a soda.
Through the reflection of a parked car's window, he spotted a man in sunglasses and a black suit pretending to browse a newspaper stand while keeping his gaze fixed on him.
Sean frowned, 'Did Frank D'Amico's men track me down?'
It seemed unlikely that a drug lord would resort to surveillance.
As he continued walking, he noticed more figures tailing him... professionals, judging by their techniques.
Without his heightened senses and basic counter-surveillance knowledge, he might never have detected them.
'If not gangsters, then who...?'
Sean's expression darkened as a possibility struck him.
There was a certain clandestine organization in this world, one that investigated supernatural phenomena and handled extraordinary threats, often recruiting superhumans to their cause.
'They couldn't have found me this fast, could they?' The thought unsettled him.
He had no desire to attract the attention of 'that' agency, especially not its one-eyed director. If movies had taught him anything, working for the government never ended well.
He'd gladly chat with mutants or debate women with a certain playboy billionaire, but getting tangled up with Nick Fury and SHIELD?
A hard pass...
'There's no way SHIELD should know about me. Something's gone wrong...' Sean's brow furrowed.
He needed to figure out what was happening before he found himself backed into a corner...
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Read ahead on my P@treon...
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