"We have an obligation to use our powers responsibly, to make the world a better place," Peter said, stepping up to Bant's bed, his eyes serious as they met his cousin's.
"Because with great power comes great responsibility."
"So?" Bant propped his head higher on his pillow, leaning back and giving Peter a look that made him feel a little uneasy. Peter squirmed instinctively, sensing that Bant wasn't taking his words as seriously as he intended.
"So we can become heroes! Just like Iron Man!" Peter flailed his hands with excitement, his imagination already running wild. He pinched his chin thoughtfully. "We could even come up with a codename, like…"
"…Spider Persona… or the Dynamic Spider Duo. What do you think?"
"If you want to be a superhero, go ahead but leave me out of it. I can only wish you success," Bant said, rolling over, his tone tinged with mild disdain. He didn't mean to discourage Peter; after all, Peter had the right to choose his own path and become the person he wanted to be.
And even though Bant had no intention of becoming a hero himself, he didn't need to mock someone who did. Peter's idea was admirable, he just didn't share that burning enthusiasm.
"Wish me success? You're not coming with me?" Peter asked in surprise, struggling to understand why Bant was completely indifferent to heroism.
"Of course not," Bant replied calmly. "What's the point for me? Being a hero brings nothing but trouble."
He looked Peter in the eyes and shook his head. "No benefits, only headaches."
"But heroes are so cool! Like Iron Man! Do you know how many people adore him? How many would go crazy to meet him?" Peter exclaimed, eyes sparkling. "If we became heroes, people would admire us too they'd cheer for us…"
He imagined himself transformed, not as the invisible, overlooked Peter Parker, but as someone radiant, celebrated, and larger than life.
"Come on, Peter," Bant said coldly, unable to let the naïveté pass. "Even if they cheer for Spider-Man, they're cheering for Spider-Man not Peter Parker."
Bant didn't mind Peter becoming a superhero. But if Peter went in with these illusions, he would only end up hurt when faced with reality.
"But Spider-Man is Peter Parker," Peter said, not fully understanding Bant's point but accepting the name nonetheless.
At that, Bant sat up on the bed, his expression serious.
"No. Spider-Man cannot be Peter Parker!"
The intensity of Bant's stare hit Peter like a predator locking onto its prey. For a moment, he felt less like he was talking to a cousin and more like he was standing before a lethal force.
"I mean, do you think you can stand in front of a hundred reporters and announce, 'I am Spider-Man,' like Tony Stark?" Bant imitated Stark's flamboyant tone, his gaze never leaving Peter.
"Why not?" Peter asked.
"Please. Tony Stark could reveal his identity because he is Tony Stark. He has Stark Industries backing him up. Without his armor, no criminal could touch him or his family. And you? What do you have?"
"Have you thought about what happens if you take off the mask and tell everyone Spider-Man is Peter Parker?" Bant stood, gently but firmly pushing Peter from the bed. Peter felt almost weightless in his cousin's hands.
A chilling realization washed over him, as Bant's words painted a vivid, terrifying picture in his mind.
"Uncle Ben and Aunt May would be in danger. Those criminals you fought? The ones who can't beat you but harbor hatred for you what do you think they'd do?"
"They… they'd go after Uncle Ben and Aunt May…" Peter stammered, pale.
"Glad your brain still works," Bant said. He knew Peter wasn't ignoring the risks he was just swept up in the thrill of heroism. Bant wanted only to remind him: countless Spider-Men across the multiverse had exposed themselves, and countless Mary Janes and Aunts Mayes had suffered for it, some even dying as a result.
Spider-Man's life was always a struggle, a balancing act between hope and tragedy. Just when life seemed to improve, fate would strike again.
Peter nodded forcefully, understanding Bant's warnings, yet his determination remained.
Perhaps Spider-Man couldn't be Peter Parker but Peter Parker could be Spider-Man.
He could keep his identity secret, yet every cheer for Spider-Man would, in essence, be a cheer for him.
"At least I'm doing the right thing, right? With great power comes great responsibility. I don't need everyone to thank me personally."
Yet Peter didn't know that heroism came with its own hardships not every act of kindness was met with praise. Misunderstanding, criticism, and danger were constants.
Bant didn't continue arguing. He had no desire to crush Peter's confidence. Some lessons had to be learned firsthand. Even so, he knew that nothing could defeat Spider-Man or Peter Parker.
And Peter needed this identity.
He had always been the invisible Peter Parker: small, overlooked, unnoticed even by classmates. The girls he liked never looked his way.
Now, he had the chance to change that, to shine. Bant had no right to deny him that.
Even with the need for secrecy, becoming Spider-Man allowed Peter to fill a void inside himself.
When he wore that suit, he wasn't Peter Parker he was powerful, untouchable, Spider-Man.
"If you're going to fight crime, you need a badass suit!" Bant said. He grabbed Peter, seating him at the desk, then flipped open a stack of sketch papers. Peter's jaw dropped.
"Wait you said you didn't want to be a superhero?"
"I don't."
"And yet… you designed an entire suit and even planned out the name Spider-Man?!"
Peter froze, caught between awe and embarrassment, while Bant's expression softened just slightly. He didn't need to lecture; Peter's actions already spoke for themselves.
Bant knew one thing for certain: even if he refused heroism, he had a responsibility to guide Peter, to protect him in ways that only a vigilant, protective cousin could.