Rikers Island sat like a concrete fortress in the East River. It was New York City's largest and most notoriously overcrowded penitentiary. At its peak, the facility was bursting at the seams. Low-risk inmates were crammed together like sardines, with some holding cells packing up to fifty steel cots in a single room.
The rumor mill among the guards was already churning: Wilson Fisk, who had just formally surrendered to federal authorities, was slated for transfer back to Rikers. He had done a stint here years ago, and everyone knew the Kingpin practically owned the brickwork.
But Fisk wasn't the reason the emergency sirens were currently screaming across the island.
Searchlights cut frantically through the pre-dawn fog. Guards mobilized with rifles and tracking dogs. A prisoner had vanished from his cell. The strangest part wasn't the escape itself; it was the warden immediately locking down the compound and issuing a strict gag order. No one was allowed to speak the escapee's name.
A few miles away, the freezing waters of the Hudson River broke the surface.
A massive, heavily muscled African-American man hauled himself out of the current and onto the slick concrete of a Hell's Kitchen pier. He didn't shiver. He just looked around the deserted docks, stripping off his soaked, gray Rikers issue jumpsuit. He balled the fabric up, threw it back into the dark water, and scanned the brick walls for security cameras. Seeing none, he turned and melted into the chaotic, neon-lit labyrinth of Hell's Kitchen.
He had gone by a few different names in the past. None of them mattered anymore. From today on, he only had one name.
Luke Cage.
Midtown High felt remarkably normal.
The bell rang, lockers slammed, and students complained about algebra. For the first time since the semester started, there were no supervillains, no explosions, and no catastrophic life-or-death stakes. As September finally drew to a close, Peter Parker let out a long, heavy breath and actually relaxed his shoulders.
When he bothered to mentally review his month, it was genuinely absurd. He had fought the Shocker, the Chameleon, Carl King's spider-colony, Mysterio, a guy piloting a giant metal wheel, the Rhino, and the Scorpion. In between all that, he had hopped over to Earth-700 to intercept a radioactive spider meant for Miles Morales, returned to his own universe, watched the X-Men reunite, flew to Madripoor, fought Weapon X squad, and punched Mister Sinister in the jaw.
It was a very fulfilling, highly exhausting thirty days. Peter sincerely hoped October would be entirely boring.
Of course, that summary completely ignored Cindy Moon kissing him on top of the Empire State Building.
Peter awkwardly shifted in his desk chair, glancing sideways at Cindy. Ever since she fled the rooftop yesterday, the atmosphere between them had been thick enough to cut with a web-line. Cindy wasn't exactly a talkative person on a good day. She was the type of girl who used a textbook as a physical shield to avoid eye contact. Now, she was practically building a fortress out of her AP history materials.
Every now and then, Peter caught her glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. But the second he opened his mouth to break the ice, she instantly looked away and flipped a page.
It was maddening. But he also had zero idea how to fix it.
He had absolutely no romantic experience in this life or the last. And it wasn't like he could just call the Avengers for dating advice. Steve Rogers' concept of romance involved fondue and waiting seventy years for a dance. Tony Stark was a billionaire playboy who still somehow managed to short-circuit whenever Pepper Potts looked at him. Hank Pym just passively let Janet do all the heavy lifting. Bruce Banner was constantly running away from Betty Ross to avoid hulking out. And T'Challa…..maybe T'Challa.
"Honestly," Peter muttered under his breath, staring blankly at the chalkboard. "Thor is probably just a made-up lie Tony invented to scare aliens. Nobody is actually that majestic."
Cindy paused turning a page. She shot Peter an incredibly weird look over the top of her textbook, then slowly went back to reading.
"Guys! Great news!"
Harry practically slid into the seat in front of them, his backpack hitting the floor with a thud. "Guess what I just found out?"
"Did Comic-Con drop the new badge schedule?" Peter asked, instantly distracted.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You need to expand your horizons, Pete." He turned to the other side of the aisle. "Amadeus, take a guess."
Amadeus Cho didn't look up from his tablet. "I'm assuming you're talking about the school organizing a field trip to the Arecibo Observatory in Puerto Rico this November."
Harry's excited grin vanished instantly. He crossed his arms, thoroughly annoyed that Amadeus had ruined the reveal.
"Wait, isn't that strictly an Astronomy Club thing?" Peter asked, leaning forward. He realized with a pang of guilt that he had been so busy playing Spider-Man, he had completely tuned out all normal high school events.
"Not this time," Harry explained, recovering his enthusiasm. "The school board is putting together a specialized student science team to research extraterrestrial civilizations. You know, since aliens literally blew up midtown a few months ago. If you take the qualification test and score high enough, you get a spot on the team. We actually have a shot at going to see the world's biggest radio telescope!"
"That's awesome," Peter smiled. "I should have some free time tonight. I'll look up the test prep."
Cindy lowered her book slightly, looking at Harry. "Anyone can join the team? As long as they get the points?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "That's the only way freshmen like us even have a chance."
The conversation drifted back to normal school gossip until the final bell rang. As they packed up their bags, Cindy stepped into Peter's path. She didn't bring up the kiss.
"I have a bad feeling about that science competition," Cindy said quietly, gripping her backpack straps. "It feels too perfectly timed. like your Baxter Building internship. It could be orchestrated."
"Maybe," Peter shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "You could ask S.H.I.E.L.D. to run a background check on the board members. But honestly? My Spider-Sense is completely quiet. If absolutely everything in our lives is a grand conspiracy, I'm going to start wondering if the spider that bit us was planted by the CIA."
Cindy didn't laugh. "Are you going out on patrol today?"
"Actually, no," Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have some... personal errands to run."
Mary Jane Watson had somehow managed to set him up with an interview with J. Jonah Jameson. It was going to be a complete trainwreck. Just thinking about it made his Spider-Sense vibrate with awkward dread. He decided to keep that detail to himself.
"Do you need backup?" Cindy asked, her tone shifting into mission-mode.
"Nope. No backup needed," Peter smiled, pushing the classroom door open. "All the bad guys are locked up. New York is finally at peace."