At the same time, although Peter was doing much better now, S.H.I.E.L.D. had run into a small problem of its own.
Inside Nick Fury's office.
Fury was pacing back and forth in irritation, bloodshot eyes making it clear he had not slept much.
On the screen in front of him was an operation report marked at a clearance level only Level Eight agents could access.
Operation Codename: Twilight
Targets: Richard Parker & Mary Parker
Status: Missing in action.
Last known location: Algerian border.
Note: Wreckage from a downed aircraft recovered at the scene. Estimated chance of target survival... extremely low.
"HYDRA got there before we did." Fury's voice was edged with anger. By now, he had already taken over from the old director and was sitting firmly in the big chair. Coulson, who had been at his side the whole way, had also made it to Level Eight.
"They cleaned up Richard and Mary, took the Super Soldier research with them, and left us with a dead-end mess. We lost two of our best operatives, and now we get to sort through the fallout."
Coulson's expression darkened as well. "Then... what about their son, Peter Parker? He's living with his uncle's family now. Should we make contact? Richard was a top-tier agent. He may have left something behind, some contingency or message."
Fury fell silent for a moment.
He remembered January first, eight years ago. Ben Parker's stubborn streak, the man's history, and the way the neighborhood had closed ranks around him.
"No," Fury said at last, shaking his head. "Leave the Parker house alone for now."
"Why, sir?" Coulson asked, clearly confused. "The boy is a key variable."
"Because Peter Parker isn't the only key variable in that house." Fury turned around. "You remember the older boy, Clark Parker? We've had him under watch for eight years and found absolutely nothing. His life reads like a blank sheet of paper. Ordinary to the point of absurdity. And that, by itself, is the most abnormal thing about him."
"An orphan who appeared out of nowhere eight years ago. A boy with physical abilities well above normal for a child. And now he's living in the same house as the son of two elite agents. Coulson, doesn't that strike you as a little too convenient?"
Fury pulled up another file, one containing every bit of data on Clark Parker from childhood to the present.
"Medical records show he's never been sick. Not once. Not even a cold. School records say he's average, neither remarkable nor poor. Community reports describe him as honest, kind... and a little slow on the uptake."
"All the data points to one conclusion." Fury let out a cold, humorless laugh. "He's the most perfectly normal ordinary person imaginable. But my instincts say something is wrong here. If we interfere, we may trigger consequences we can't predict."
Then he looked at the final note in the file, the last message Richard had sent before going dark.
"Look at this."
"What is it?"
"Trust Clark."
Coulson froze.
"So our approach stays the same. Keep watching. I want to know everything that happens in that house, no matter how big or how small."
Time flowed like water. No matter how tightly you tried to hold on, it still slipped through your fingers, just like now.
In the blink of an eye, the calendar had turned to late August, 2008.
Morning sunlight woke the sleeping Clark, and the sixteen-year-old boy sat up on his new bed.
He rubbed his face, let out a quiet sigh, and looked down at his body.
As he had grown older, his body's real developmental age had already reached something closer to seventeen. Add in the daily absorption of yellow sunlight, and the genes in his body had been developing like they were on rocket fuel.
He had already grown past six foot one, making him look nothing like a teenager about to start high school.
That was why, every day, he used to wear those clumsy black-rimmed glasses to play himself down. But now that he was heading into high school, he no longer wanted to keep up that old bookish image, so he had ditched the glasses.
Yes, that was the great change he had made.
He had simply stopped wearing them.
But compared to the changes in his body, what troubled him most was what had happened to his mind.
His super-brain had evolved from mere high-speed thought into something that could now outstrip a computer centuries beyond current human science. If he wanted to, he could probably solve countless problems that had stumped the world. And that was exactly what unsettled him.
More than unsettled him, really. It frightened him.
It was as if nothing in the world could stay hidden from him anymore. That absolute rational perspective made him feel like he was slipping away from the very idea of being human, moving instead toward something mechanical, or something godlike.
So in the end, he made a choice no one else would have expected.
He deliberately shut that part of his super-brain down, refusing to let it keep pushing beyond human limits.
He did not want that.
He would rather learn, train, and improve step by step every day than become some colder, more detached version of Superman.
He only wanted to be a person with warmth in him. Ben and May's good son. Peter's good older brother.
"Clark! Peter! Breakfast! Unless you want to be late on the very first day of school!" May's cheerful voice rang up from downstairs.
"Coming!" Clark answered as he swung his legs off the bed.
The door to the next room opened, and fifteen-year-old Peter Parker stepped out with a mess of brown curls sticking in every direction. Thanks to the gifted brain he had inherited from his parents, Peter had skipped a grade and was now starting freshman year at Midtown High alongside Clark.
Yes, their family had produced a bona fide genius.
Peter was clutching a thick calculus textbook to his chest, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth as he mumbled, "Morning, Clark. I revised the web-shooter schematics last night. Where do you think we could get some high-strength carbon fiber?"
Ever since that stormy night a few years ago, Peter had poured all the grief and longing he felt for his parents into an almost feverish devotion to science.
Of course, Peter had not been bitten by a spider and gained superpowers.
For him, it was simply a project.
"Brush first, genius," Clark said with a smile, patting his brother on the shoulder. "Or Ben's going to whack you with the newspaper."
After washing up, the two of them headed down to the dining room on the first floor.
The television was already on, the news channel running a headline that had shocked the world:
"Tony Stark, billionaire CEO of Stark Industries, was attacked by armed insurgents in Afghanistan after demonstrating the company's new Jericho missile for the military. Mr. Stark is currently missing, and military forces are conducting a full-scale search and rescue operation..."
At the breakfast table, Ben watched the report while spreading strawberry jam over toast.
He had been working at the Daily Bugle for more than a decade and now served as managing editor, second only to Jameson himself. On some matters, this managing editor had even more practical authority than J. Jonah Jameson.
Mostly because Jameson tended to enter a state of full-volume rage whenever he covered the news.
"Another arrogant rich guy swallowed by the swamp of war," Uncle Ben said, shaking his head as he slapped the newspaper down on the table. "That old lunatic Jameson called me five times this morning, demanding I send reporters digging into Stark Industries and what this means for their stock."
"Don't work yourself too hard, Ben." May came over carrying plates of eggs and bacon, glancing at her husband with concern. "I'm more worried about those street cases you've been looking into. The news said Brooklyn had another armored robbery last night. Some criminal in high-tech gear hit an armored truck, and even the police had trouble handling him."
"Don't worry, May. I was in the 101st Airborne," Ben said with an easy grin, making light of it. Then he turned to the two boys with their fresh young faces. "First day of high school. You ready for a new chapter? Just remember, don't go looking for trouble. But if somebody pushes you around, the men of this family don't back down."
"Yes, sir!" Clark and Peter answered together, snapping into exaggerated salutes and earning a laugh from May.