"Very powerful... this Electro," Tony muttered, his eyes fixed on Max as The Screen showed his electrifying rampage. "If it weren't for the water conducting the current in his body, those high-capacity capacitors wouldn't have held him for long."
"Yeah," Banner nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. "But I'm more curious about what kind of deal Peter Parker made with The Screen. That's the part that's really bugging me."
"Who knows?" Tony shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "We still don't even know what The Screen is. No point overthinking it. That's second-gen Peter Parker's problem, not ours."
While Tony and Banner shifted their focus back to their projects—improving the Mark armor series and researching the Cosmic Cube—Peter's fate weighed heavily on their minds. Dr. Erik Selvig continued to study the Cube, with Tony and Banner occasionally lending a hand, pushing progress forward steadily.
Meanwhile, the first-generation Spider-Man had his own thoughts about Peter's mysterious deal. But how could he possibly know something that his second-generation counterpart didn't? After a while, he pushed the thought aside, focusing on his own battles.
On the other hand, Uncle Ben and Captain George Stacy from Peter's world were deeply concerned. They each called Peter, worried about what he'd gotten himself into. Peter reassured them both, explaining what had happened and asking them not to worry.
But despite his words, neither Uncle Ben nor George could shake the fear that The Screen might ask Peter to do something dangerous—maybe even illegal.
["Aunt May?" Peter called out as he entered their small apartment. The house was quiet. Too quiet. He walked toward his room, but as he pushed open the door, he froze in his tracks.]
[Aunt May was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the clue wall plastered across his bedroom wall. Photos, articles, and notes were pinned everywhere, connecting strings that painted a chaotic web of conspiracy and mystery.]
["What are you doing?" Peter asked, stepping inside, his voice a mix of confusion and caution.]
[Aunt May turned to him slowly, her expression unreadable. "When did you do all this?" she asked quietly, her voice laced with something between sadness and frustration.]
[Peter hesitated. For a moment, he considered brushing it off—but then he sighed and decided it was time to confront the elephant in the room.]
["You didn't tell me something, Aunt May," Peter said softly, his eyes locking onto hers. "Whenever I bring up my parents, you lower your head. You've got to be hiding something from me."]
[Aunt May's gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders sagging under the weight of his words. A deep sadness filled the room.]
["You lied to me," Peter pressed, his voice shaking. "I know you love me. I know you do. But you still lied to me."]
["I didn't lie to you!" Aunt May shot back, finally lifting her head. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but her voice was firm.]
["Aunt May... Aunt May, please." Peter crouched down in front of her, his heart pounding in his chest. "You have to tell me. That's my father we're talking about."]
[Her composure cracked. "Yes!" Aunt May snapped, her voice rising with emotion. "He is your father. But he still left you... here!"]
["Tell me the truth," Peter whispered, his voice breaking. He wasn't sure he could handle what she was about to say, but he needed to hear it anyway.]
["The truth is..." Aunt May began, her voice trembling, "Your parents left you here. On our doorstep. You were just a kid. They abandoned you without a single explanation!"]
[Her words hit Peter like a punch to the gut.]
["Uncle Ben and I did everything we could to take care of you. Who else was there for you? Who else cared about you? Protected you? Worried about you?" Her voice cracked, and tears streamed down her face. "Your father? No!" She pointed at herself, her voice shaking with emotion. "I wiped your nose when you were sick. I reminded you to brush your teeth, helped you with your homework, washed your clothes—everything!"]
[Aunt May's sudden outburst left Peter stunned. He staggered backward, his mind reeling. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond.]
["It's me, your stupid old aunt!" Aunt May continued, her voice rising. "I don't understand science! I can barely make ends meet! I have to take nursing classes with kids half my age just to keep up with your college tuition!" Her voice faltered as the memories poured out. "After Ben died… I didn't know what to do. I still don't know. But you…"]
[She took a deep breath, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're still thinking about your perfect father. But he's not here. He's never been here. And no, I won't tell you what happened to him. Because to me, you're my child. You always have been. And I won't hurt you with the truth."]
[Peter's eyes welled with tears as he stepped forward. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around Aunt May, pulling her into a tight hug.]
["I am your child," Peter whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You're everything to me. You've always been enough. I just… I needed to understand. I love you, Aunt May. I always will."]
[Aunt May's tears flowed freely now. Peter pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers.]
["It's okay," he murmured. "It's okay. But Aunt May... I need to know. Please."]
[Aunt May searched his eyes for a long moment before finally sighing in defeat. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll tell you everything."]
["A few days after the funeral," Aunt May began, her voice distant, as if she were reliving the memory, "two government agents came to our door. They said your father's research—his genetic work with Norman Osborn—was valuable. They told us people were offering big money for it."]
[Peter's heart pounded in his chest. "So he ran away with his research?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.]
["That's what they said," Aunt May replied, shaking her head. "They called him a traitor. They claimed he betrayed his best friend. Betrayed us."]
["No…" Peter shook his head, stepping back as if the words had physically struck him. "That's impossible. He'd never…"]
["I didn't believe it either, Peter," Aunt May said softly. "Not at first. But I don't know what to believe anymore. I've gone over it in my mind a thousand times. He was so ordinary, so humble."]
[Her voice trembled as she continued. "He wore that same white lab coat for twenty years. Took the D train to work every day at 7 a.m., came home at 6 p.m. on the dot. But maybe…" She paused, her eyes distant. "Maybe everyone hides a part of themselves. Even from the people they love."]
[Peter's world felt like it was crumbling. The father he had idolized, the man he'd believed in… could it all have been a lie? He paced the room, his mind spinning.]
["Peter…" Aunt May called his name, but it was like he couldn't hear her. The weight of the truth—or what he thought was the truth—pressed down on him, suffocating.]
"OMG! No way! Richard Parker was a traitor???" a man shouted from the audience watching The Screen unfold.
"Are you an idiot?" another man snapped, rolling his eyes. "Did you even watch the beginning of the video? It's clear Richard didn't run away for money."
The debate rippled through the crowd, dividing opinions. Some believed the FBI's claims, while others insisted Richard Parker had been framed. The public demanded answers, pushing the FBI into a corner. The agency was already under fire after Dr. Connors' death, and now this scandal threatened to expose even more corruption.
The FBI director found himself caught in a whirlwind of public outrage. He wasn't just facing backlash from the people—he had to answer to the White House, too. And the president? He was one of Spider-Man's biggest fans.
For years, the president had posted about Spider-Man's heroics on social media, using the beloved web-slinger's popularity to bolster his approval ratings. But now, with the public questioning Richard Parker's integrity, even the president might not be able to spin this one in his favor.
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