Morning sunlight had a way of making the world seem brighter and more hopeful.
For Gwen Stacy, however, today's sunshine merely strengthened the fire of justice that had begun burning inside her heart.
The crimes she'd witnessed lurking in the city's dark corners the previous night had kept her awake until morning.
Her father and the New York Police Department simply didn't have enough people to protect every street and alley.
But Gwen now possessed the power to venture into those shadows herself.
She glanced at the costume designs scattered across her desk, then at the half-finished web-shooter she'd been testing.
Her mind was made up.
Picking up her phone, she contacted her teacher and requested a day off school, explaining that she wasn't feeling well.
Then she found Peter's number.
Her fingers moved quickly across the screen.
Gwen: Hey, Peter. I'm not feeling too great today, so I won't be able to go to school with you.
After sending the message, Gwen tossed her phone aside.
Her attention returned to the blueprints, her eyes narrowing with concentration.
Today, she was determined to finish both her costume and the web-shooters!
Except...
Ding!
The notification sound interrupted her just as she picked up a screwdriver.
Seeing Peter's name appear on the screen made her heart inexplicably beat a little faster.
'Replying to one message shouldn't interfere with my work... right?'
...
Meanwhile, on a school bus in Queens, Peter raised an eyebrow as he read the message on his phone.
An amused smile spread across his lips.
'Not feeling well?'
'More like you're busy messing around with your secret superhero equipment.'
With that thought in mind, his fingers flew across the screen.
Peter: Then you'd better get plenty of rest. Want me to come over after school and help you catch up on what you missed?
The reply came almost immediately.
Gwen: No need! It's nothing serious. I'll feel better after getting some sleep! Just concentrate on your classes, okay? Don't get distracted!
Peter could practically feel the panic behind her hastily typed words.
He chuckled.
'That girl really is terrible at lying.'
Peter: Are you sure? You know, as the undisputed top student in our class, my lecture notes are worth their weight in gold.
Gwen: Oh, please! You're not the only smart person around here! My grades aren't that far behind yours! Anyway, I'm going back to sleep. Bye!
Looking at the cute emojis accompanying her messages, Peter could almost picture Gwen frantically working on her equipment while struggling to invent excuses to keep him from discovering her secret.
'Teasing my adorable little Ghost-Spider really is a wonderful way to start the day.'
Unfortunately, just as Peter was enjoying himself, someone with an extraordinary talent for ruining the mood boarded the school bus.
"Well, well, well! If it isn't little Peter Parker, our favorite good-for-nothing loser!"
The voice was filled with deliberate malice and mockery.
Peter raised his head.
The face that greeted him was both painfully familiar and deeply unpleasant.
Eugene "Flash" Thompson.
Midtown High School's star quarterback and the ringleader of its most notorious bullies.
Memories of the previous Peter Parker's experiences surfaced in his mind.
The suffocating helplessness of being locked inside a school locker.
The humiliation of having his lunch knocked onto the floor.
The embarrassment of being ridiculed in front of his classmates.
One unpleasant memory after another appeared with startling clarity.
Now that Peter possessed real power, it was only natural that he'd want to repay Flash for the suffering he'd inflicted over the years.
Flash, meanwhile, had noticed that Gwen wasn't sitting beside Peter today.
His spirits immediately improved.
Being unable to torment Parker yesterday had irritated him so much that even football practice hadn't felt particularly satisfying.
Today, he intended to make up for that missed opportunity.
He was going to give the little nerd twice as much trouble and thoroughly enjoy the satisfaction of bullying someone weaker than himself.
Flash towered over Peter, looking down at him with an arrogant sneer.
Then his attention shifted to the phone in Peter's hand.
A malicious gleam appeared in his eyes.
"Who are you texting, huh? What's got you smiling like an idiot?"
"Don't tell me you're fantasizing about some girl actually being interested in a pathetic nerd like you!"
Before he'd even finished speaking, Flash reached out to snatch Peter's phone.
He'd already imagined exactly what he intended to do next.
First, he'd steal the phone.
Then he'd read Peter's private messages aloud in front of everyone on the bus.
Finally, he'd sit back and enjoy watching the helpless nerd grow increasingly furious while the entire bus laughed at him.
It was one of Flash's favorite forms of entertainment.
He found the experience even more satisfying than sex!
Hearing Flash's taunts, the other students reacted in different ways.
Some wore amused, almost delighted expressions, eager to enjoy another round of humiliation at Peter's expense.
Others turned their heads and pretended not to notice, afraid that interfering would make them Flash's next target.
As far as they were concerned, the skinny Peter Parker had no chance of resisting a powerful member of the school football team.
Another one-sided bullying incident seemed inevitable.
But the next moment...
Flash's smile froze.
Before his fingers could reach Peter's phone, a hand closed around his wrist like a steel vise.
His arm stopped moving.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't push it even an inch farther.
Flash stared in disbelief.
Looking down, he discovered that Peter hadn't even bothered to raise his head.
The boy was still casually typing a message with one hand while holding Flash's wrist with the other.
His posture was so relaxed that it seemed as though restraining the school's star quarterback required no effort whatsoever.
Only after pressing the send button did Peter put away his phone.
Then he finally looked up at Flash.
The expression in his eyes resembled that of a cat watching a mouse struggle.
That casual indifference immediately enraged Flash.
He glanced around at the students watching them.
Suddenly, it felt as though everyone was laughing at him.
"You..."
Flash's face turned crimson.
He pulled against Peter's grip with all his strength, desperately trying to free his wrist.
But the force holding him in place was unbelievable.
No matter how hard Flash struggled, Peter's fingers refused to budge.
'How is this possible?!'
Flash's mind went blank.
Was this really the same pathetic loser he'd bullied for years?
The same weakling who barely dared to breathe loudly in his presence?
When had Peter become so strong?
"Didn't your mother ever teach you that taking someone else's belongings without permission is wrong?"
Peter finally raised his head properly.
His expression remained perfectly calm, but his next words were deliberately vicious.
"Or is it that you don't have a mother to teach you?"
Flash stared at him.
English insults, Peter reflected, often seemed to rely on the same familiar collection of swearwords and crude expressions.
But the insult he'd just delivered followed a particularly cutting style of verbal abuse he'd learned in his previous life.
It took Flash a moment to understand the implication.
Peter was mocking him for supposedly not having a mother.
When the meaning finally registered, Flash lost whatever composure he had left.
He could dish out insults all day, but apparently couldn't tolerate receiving one in return.
"FUCK YOU! YOU'RE DEAD!"
Overcome by humiliation and rage, Flash abandoned all restraint.
He clenched his free hand into a fist and swung it toward Peter's face with everything he had.
The punch tore through the air.
He intended to make the arrogant little nerd pay in blood for humiliating him.
Several frightened gasps sounded throughout the bus.
Some of the more timid girls even closed their eyes, unable to bear watching the bloody scene they expected to follow.
"AAAAAAARGH!"
Sure enough, an agonized scream echoed through the entire bus a moment later.
A few girls winced sympathetically, already feeling sorry for poor Peter.
But as the screaming continued, their expressions gradually changed.
Something wasn't right.
'Wait...'
'That doesn't sound like Peter.'
'Isn't that... Flash?!'