7 Infiltration
We told her we couldn't stay for our safety, having to return to our dimension tonight. After a final farewell, we left Aunt May's house. But before we could go, she called me back and hugged me tightly.
"I hope you don't waste your life seeking revenge," Aunt May pleaded, her eyes shining with tears. "I don't want to see you go down that path. It only leads to more pain and darkness."
Her words pierced me. I had indeed planned complete vengeance against Norman Osborn for all the suffering he'd caused after returning to my world. Yet in this short time, Aunt May saw right through me—she understood the hatred burning in my heart. 'Sorry, Aunt May, as much as I wish I could, I may not be able to give up on getting revenge. But I will live my life to the fullest despite that drive.'
We decided to visit Miles next, holed up in his dorm, blaming himself for failing to protect his uncle Aaron from the kingpin's attack. As we entered, he looked up at us despondently from where he sat on the bed.
"Miles, this isn't your fault," Peter said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You did everything you possibly could."
"But I was so close to losing Uncle Aaron," Miles replied, his voice heavy with regret. "If I had been stronger and faster, maybe I could have stopped this whole situation before it spiralled out of control."
The others nodded sympathetically. We've all been there before.
"Miles, we've all been through unimaginable situations like this," Peter said solemnly. "I lost my Uncle Ben because of a mistake I made when I was first starting out."
"For me, it was my Uncle Benjamin Parker," Noid added somberly.
"I lost my father," Peni said, her eyes downcast.
Gwen's expression was haunted. "And I had to watch my best friend die right in front of me."
I remained silent in the corner, my own history and background a mystery even to myself. An enigma without a past that I could remember.
"Well, Alice has been through even more hardship than any of us," Noir declared, looking over at me with respect. "She didn't even have her freedom from the start. But she keeps rising at every turn, fighting again and again despite all odds."
I was surprised by Noir's praise, a hint of gratitude and happiness emerging that my usually stoic expression didn't betray.
"Listen, Miles," Peter continued, turning back to the distraught young hero. "The hardest thing for all Spider-people is that we can't save everyone, no matter how hard we try. But you have to learn from your mistakes and failures and use that to grow stronger."
"Guys, it was all my fault," Miles said despondently, not meeting their eyes. "You wouldn't really understand."
"Miles, we're the only ones who truly understand you and what you're going through," Gwen assured him. The others nodded in solemn agreement.
The sudden rattle of the doorknob made us all start. Miles' roommate barged in without warning, chatting on his phone loudly. In a flash, we instinctively stuck ourselves to the ceiling, flattening against it to avoid being seen. I simply turned invisible, stifling a laugh as the oblivious roommate nearly walked right into the portly Spider-Ham crouched on the floor.
"Dude, what the..." the roommate began, his brow furrowing in confusion at the bizarre scene before him in Miles' room.
As he casually went about his business, dropping his backpack, pulling out a comic book, and putting on headphones, he nearly looked up towards the ceiling. Before he could spot the others clinging there, I swiftly rendered him unconscious with a precise, minor shock. He crumpled to the floor silently.
Peter shot me a quizzical look as he dropped back down lightly to the ground. "Couldn't you have done that earlier and saved us the trouble?"
I smirked, turning visible again. "Well, where's the fun in that? This was way more hilarious to me."
"Hilarious?" Gwen laughed, doing a graceful flip off the ceiling to land perfectly. "Did you see the way Spider-Ham almost blew our cover when that guy walked right by him?"
We all shared a laugh, breaking the sombre mood, if only for a moment. Even Miles managed a small smile, though the guilt and self-recrimination still weighed heavily on him.
After bidding Miles a final farewell and realising this was our last goodbye before departing his dimension for good, all except Peter left his dorm room.
Peter turned to face Miles once more, his expression somber. "Wait, you're all leaving? Forever?" Miles asked, the vulnerability clear in his voice as his eyes widened. "But what about the collider? Don't we still need to shut it down?"
"You're not getting it, Miles," Peter affirmed gravely, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. "I'll be the one staying behind to shut down the collider once and for all."
Miles' jaw dropped. "But you could die doing that!"
"You're not ready for that level of responsibility yet, Miles. Not really," Peter said, his voice laced with deep regret. "You have amazing heroic potential, every bit the ability to become a great Spider-Man worthy of the name. But time is running short, and you're still not fully ready, even if it pains me to admit it."
"But I still have to make Kingpin pay for what he did!" Miles cried, anguished. "I promised Spider-Man that I would stop this thing!"
Peter shook his head slowly. "Miles, going after Kingpin right now is a suicide mission. You'll only get yourself killed before you can truly start making a difference."
"No, I promise I'm ready this time!" Miles insisted desperately. "Let me prove it to you!"
Suddenly, with reflexes befitting the seasoned hero he was, Peter swept Miles' legs out from under him. As the young man started falling, Peter caught him by the shirt and stuck him to the ceiling with a splat.
"Then prove you're really ready," Peter said, his voice hard. "Strike me with your venom blast. Go full camouflage and try to escape me. Or even defeat me in combat here and now. If you can do any of those things, I'll know you're finally prepared to take on Kingpin. But can you, Miles?"
Before Miles could respond, a strand of webbing lashed out to cocoon him firmly against the wall and chair. As Miles struggled fruitlessly, Peter reached into his pocket for the goober, holding it up regretfully.
"I'm sorry, Miles, but I have no choice," Peter stated heavily. "You've got the skills and the desire to help people...but not yet the judgement and experience that come with time on the job. Otherwise, you'll just get yourself killed before you can ever live up to your full potential."
"Pete, no! You can't do this!" Miles cried out, his voice cracking with anguish as he thrashed against his bonds. "At least tell me when I'll finally be ready to wield this power and responsibility!"
Peter shook his head slowly, an unbearable sadness in his eyes. "And that's exactly why you're not ready yet, kid. This life..." He paused, seeming to struggle to find the right words. "It's not something you just realize you're ready for one day. It's a leap of faith."
Peter looked Miles square in the eyes. "That's all it is, Miles. A leap of faith."
[Near the Kingpin Building]
After that emotionally charged confrontation with Miles, we took public transportation towards Kingpin's towering headquarters in the heart of New York City. I couldn't help wondering how Spider-Ham was able to go completely unnoticed by the other passengers, but I supposed his unique toon powers were responsible for that.
Six of us—me, Peter, Gwen, Peni, Noir, and the cartoonish Ham—hung and stood atop a tall suspension tower that provided an unobstructed view of the Kingpin's luxurious skyscraper.
Pot-Belly Peter, the older, more corpulent version of Spider-Man from another dimension, looked at the brightly lit building and all the vehicles bustling around its base with surprise.
"Why is it so lively here?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "Shouldn't this area be on total lockdown by now?"
As we jumped across to get a better view through the lobby's tall glass windows, we all exclaimed in unison, "You've gotta be kidding me!"
To our astonishment and outrage, the magnificent hotel lobby was filled to the brim with guests celebrating some kind of large event. White-clothed tables brimming with delicious food and drinks adorned the open space, with men in finely tailored suits and women in elegant dresses mingling.
A large figure stood on the podium at the center of the lobby, holding a microphone as he addressed the crowd with an arrogant smugness.
"Thank you all for coming to commemorate the life and legacy of Spider-Man tonight," the Kingpin's deep baritone carried clearly even through the glass panes. "We used to be such good friends, just like two peas in a..."
"The fuck?" Gwen swore vehemently, cutting him off as her fists clenched. "Look at what that literal pig-head is saying!"
Spider-Ham instinctively nodded in agreement, his buck-toothed mouth gaping, but then he realised with a start, "Hey, I can hear and understand you guys now too!"
Noir smirked grimly beneath the brim of his fedora, squinting through the darkness as he pointed a gloved finger down into the brightly lit lobby. "Take a look at those waiters, guys."
Following his indication, the six of us peered downwards to see dozens of waiters wearing cheap-looking Spider-Man mask replicas, scurrying back and forth ferrying trays between the tables full of revelers.
Peni gritted her teeth, clearly furious at this disgraceful parody playing out below. But she pointed to a discrete corner of the main hall. "Over there, that's Kingpin's private elevator. It'll take us straight down to the underground levels where he has the control room for the particle accelerator collider set up."
My eyes narrowed as I took in this new information. That was our target then—we had to get down there and shut off that machine before it caused any more damage to the fabric of reality itself.
[Inside the Kingpin's Building]
We just put on a neck bow to blend in as a disguise. The six of us, with our fake guard disguises, made our way across the busy lobby towards the private elevator Peni had spotted earlier.
As we walked, Pot-Belly Peter suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes going wide behind his mirrored sunglasses. There, passing by not ten feet away, was the beautiful and familiar figure of Mary Jane Watson—at least, the Mary Jane of this particular universe.
"M...MJ?" Peter stammered shakily, staring for a long moment.
"Maybe...maybe we could just go talk to her?" Peter said it hesitantly, his eyes following the woman's movements with longing.
Gwen quickly grabbed his arm and hissed urgently, "Get a grip, Peter! That's not your MJ; this is a completely different universe, remember?"
"But.."
"Excuse me, can we have some bread in table number 12?"
Both me and Gwen face-palmed.
"Leave him like that; I suppose he just wanted some spark to start his new life." I said to Gwen.
<A few minutes later>
After that, we moved on, stunning the guards at the private elevator with expert precision before webbing them securely to the ceiling. Noir took point, breaking through the elevator door with a heavy kick. We followed him inside, descending down into the depths of the building.
Finally, we reached the control room housing the particle collider. As the massive machine powered on with an ominous thrum, I glitched momentarily, but it was just a brief flicker, and there was no lingering pain this time.
"Guys, I should activate my camouflage tech and use that window to plant the goober on the collider," I stated confidently. "They won't be able to spot me at all."
The others hesitated, likely due to my relative newness compared to all of them besides Miles.
"Let the kid do this," Noir vouched, looking at me with approval.
"Are you sure about sending her in alone?" Peter asked warily.
Noir gave a subtle nod. "Yeah, she's got the steely confidence to pull it off."
Peter tossed me the alien goober device, and I caught it deftly. "Remember, keep your safety as the top priority no matter what, kid."
"I got it," I assured him with a faint smile. I switched on my camouflage mode.
Turning fully invisible to the naked eye, I started to make my way closer to the towering collider. But suddenly, every last one of our enhanced spider senses began blaring like an air raid siren in unison.
I realised too late that I'd been exposed, as the unmistakable figure of Norman Osborn emerged—clearly, he'd been waiting for us all along. I tried to dodge away, but he moved with violent, inhuman swiftness.
The others rapidly engaged the deranged Osborn, giving me an opening to refocus on my objective. But as I looked closer at our nemesis, I realised with a spike of cold dread that he had been...changed, somehow. His movements were even more feral, destructive, and feverishly intense.
