Chereads / A Rider Kick in Marvel / Chapter 67 - Chapter 67

Chapter 67 - Chapter 67

As Peter swung through the bustling cityscape of New York, his thoughts raced as fast as he did, trying to balance the thrill of swinging through the skyscrapers with the urgency of not being late for school.

"Okay, Peter, focus. Aunt May will kill me if I'm late again. I can't afford another detention, especially after missing dinner last night. Gotta make it to class on time."

The wind whipped past his mask, and the rhythmic thwip-thwip of his webs echoed against the buildings. Below, the city bustled with life—cars honking, people shouting, the unmistakable pulse of New York City.

"I swear, if I miss that chemistry test, Mr. Warren's gonna give me that look again. The 'you could do better, Peter' look. Can't disappoint him."

He dodged a flock of pigeons with a deft maneuver, his acrobatics second nature after years of practice. The familiar sights of Times Square whizzed by—bright lights, flashing billboards, tourists snapping photos.

"Almost there. Just a few more blocks. Come on, Spidey senses, don't fail me now."

With a final burst of speed, he landed on the roof of Midtown High, pausing to catch his breath and adjust his backpack. Peter glanced at his watch, grimacing as he realized he was cutting it close. He quickly changed out of the Spider suit, and he dashed down the stairs, rounding corners with practiced agility, hoping against hope to make it to class before the bell.

Breathless and a touch disheveled, Peter skidded into the classroom just as Mr. Warren was writing equations on the board. The entire class turned to look at him, their eyes curious and Mr. Warren's stern.

"Late again, Mr. Parker?" Mr. Warren's voice cut through the silence, the disappointment evident in his tone.

Peter straightened up, catching his breath. "Yes, sorry, Mr. Warren. Won't happen again."

Mr. Warren sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "You said the last time. Never mind, take your seat, Peter. We're reviewing for tomorrow's test. Try to catch up quickly."

Peter nodded, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he made his way to his desk. He felt the weight of Mr. Warren's expectations and the disappointed glances of his classmates. Another close call in his quest to balance school, social life, and his responsibilities—just another hectic morning in Peter Parker's life.

After school, Ned invited Peter to hang out. "Hey, Pete, you wanna come hang out after school? I found this new arcade place downtown. It's supposed to be awesome!"

Peter glanced at Ned with a regretful smile, knowing he had to decline. "Ah, man, that sounds awesome, but I promised Aunt May I'd help out at FEAST today. She's been swamped with extra shifts lately."

Ned's face fell slightly, understanding but still disappointed. "Oh, right. No worries, man." Ned then had another idea. "How about I help out then."

"Really? Thanks, Ned. Aunt May would like to help. Come on, let's go."

Peter and Ned arrived at FEAST, surprising Aunt May, who was busy organizing the kitchen.

"Peter, you're here. Ned, what a pleasant surprise!" Aunt May greeted them warmly, wiping her hands on her apron. "I didn't expect you to be here."

Peter grinned. "Ned wanted to help, so he came along, and I thought you could use more hands."

Ned nodded eagerly. "Yeah, we're here to help out!"

Aunt May smiled gratefully. "That's wonderful, boys. We could use the extra help today."

She handed them aprons and pointed to a stack of plates. "How about you start by setting up the tables and getting everything ready for dinner? It's going to be busy tonight."

"Sure thing, Aunt May," Peter said, tying his apron. "We've got this."

As they worked together, setting up tables and preparing the dining area, Aunt May observed them with appreciation. Peter occasionally ducked into the kitchen to assist with food preparation, while Ned organized chairs and made sure everything was in order.

Throughout the evening, they served meals to the guests, engaging in friendly conversations and listening to their stories. Peter couldn't help but notice how Ned's upbeat personality lifted the spirits of those they interacted with, and Aunt May was touched by their willingness to pitch in.

By the end of the evening, as they helped clean up and prepare for the next day, Aunt May approached them with a warm smile.

"Thank you both so much for helping out today," she said sincerely, giving them each a hug. "It means a lot to me and to everyone here."

Peter grinned, feeling proud of their efforts. "Of course, Aunt May. We're glad to help."

Ned nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, it was really cool to be a part of this."

As they left FEAST, Peter and Ned felt a sense of fulfillment, knowing they had made a meaningful contribution to the community and strengthened their bond with Aunt May in the process.

...

In the dimly lit, high-tech facility owned by Norman Osborn, Dr. Otto Octavius meticulously adjusted the settings on a complex device. Flint Marko lay on a metal table, wires and patches attached to his body to monitor his vitals. His wrists were restrained, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of anxiety as he glanced at the ominous machinery pointed at him.

Dr. Octavius, with his signature mechanical arms wrapped around his waist, approached Flint. The arms moved with a precise grace, responding to Otto's mental commands.

"So, Doc, what's with the arms?" Flint asked, trying to mask his fear with curiosity.

"These?" Otto gestured to his mechanical appendages. "They allow me to multitask, manipulate difficult objects, and of course, maintain a safe distance."

Flint's eyes widened in alarm. "You need a safe distance!? What about me!?"

"Don't worry, Flint," Otto reassured, his voice calm and authoritative. "The procedure will be a success. I've personally checked every detail myself."

Hammerhead stepped forward, attempting to soothe Flint's nerves. "Marko, relax. You're not having second thoughts, are you? The procedure's simple, painless, and totally worth it. Show him, Doc."

Otto nodded and activated a large monitor. A detailed video began playing, explaining the procedure step by step. Otto's mechanical arms moved with a fluid precision as he navigated through the presentation.

"This procedure is going to change you fundamentally," Dr. Octavius began, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You'll gain abilities beyond your wildest dreams."

Flint tried to maintain a facade of indifference. "Yeah, yeah. Just tell me what you're gonna do to me, Doc."

Otto smirked, clearly relishing the opportunity to explain his work. "You see, Flint, your transformation will involve a process called molecular dissociation and reformation. Essentially, I will alter your body's molecular structure, enabling you to transform into sand at will."

Flint raised an eyebrow. "Sand? You're gonna turn me into sand?"

"Precisely," Octavius replied. "Sand has unique properties. It can flow through the tiniest cracks, absorb impact, and reform into nearly any shape. Once the procedure is complete, you'll be able to shift between your human form and a sand form, granting you immense versatility and power."

Otto turned to a table filled with intricate equipment. "The first step involves a genetic infusion. I'll be injecting you with a specially designed serum that will alter your DNA. This serum is based on research into the properties of silicon dioxide, the main component of sand."

Flint's unease was evident now. "And what happens if something goes wrong?"

Otto waved a hand dismissively. "My calculations are precise, and the chances of failure are minimal. But in the unlikely event of a complication, we'll have measures in place to stabilize your condition. Now, if you're ready, we'll proceed with the initial injection."

Flint took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Let's get this over with."

Dr. Octavius nodded and prepared the syringe. "Very well. This will sting a bit, but it will be over quickly."

Hammerhead and Otto retreated behind a reinforced glass wall, joined by Norman Osborn, who had come to witness the procedure.

"Is everything ready, Otto?" Osborn asked, his tone commanding.

"Of course, Mr. Osborn. We are ready to begin."

"Then proceed."

Otto activated the device, and the machinery whirred to life. The room filled with a soft hum as the genetic infusion began. Flint's body tensed as the serum entered his bloodstream, a burning sensation spreading through his veins. He gritted his teeth, determined to endure the pain.

"You're doing great, Flint," Otto's voice came through a speaker. "Just a little longer."

Suddenly, the machinery began to hum louder, the lights flickering erratically. Flint's body started to glow with an intense, almost blinding light. His skin began to shift uncontrollably, grains of sand forming and dissolving at a rapid pace.

Otto's mechanical arms moved frantically as he tried to stabilize the process. "Something's not right! We need to stop the procedure!"

Norman Osborn stepped forward, his face a mask of determination. "No, continue. This is just a minor setback. We need to see this through."

"But Norman, if we don't intervene now, we could lose him!" Otto protested, his arms still working furiously.

"We can't afford to stop now, Otto. Trust the process," Norman insisted, his eyes locked on Flint.

Flint screamed in agony as the transformation spiraled out of control. The sand was now swirling around him, forming a chaotic storm of particles. Otto's mechanical arms continued to adjust the machinery, trying to regain control.

"Flint, hold on!" Otto shouted, his voice filled with desperation.

Finally, the machinery began to stabilize, the hum returning to a steady rhythm. The sandstorm around Flint slowly subsided, and he lay on the table, panting heavily. His body shimmered with a strange, sandy texture, but he was alive.

Dr. Octavius let out a sigh of relief. "It's done. The procedure is complete."

Flint looked down at his hands, concentrating. To his astonishment, his fingers dissolved into grains of sand, then reformed into solid flesh. He clenched his fists, feeling the raw power coursing through him.

Norman Osborn smiled triumphantly. "Congratulations, Flint. You are now the Sandman."

Flint nodded, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "This... this is incredible."

Otto, still tense from the near disaster, nodded as well. "Indeed. With your new abilities, you'll be unstoppable. You will achieve great things."

Flint flexed his new powers, the sand shifting and flowing at his command. "That I am, Doc."

***

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