The elevator chimes softly. *Time to see what this place is all about.*
Stepping out onto the carpeted fourth floor, I notice three elevators directly across from me, mirrored by another three on my side, making six in total. The lush carpeting muffles my footsteps as I head toward a set of massive glass doors, already open, revealing a receptionist's desk just a few feet ahead.
As I approach, faint grunts, clanging, and other muffled noises grow more distinct, though I can't quite place them.
"Uh, hello, miss. I'm here to train for a bit," I say, my gaze lingering on the receptionist—a doll-like woman with striking blue hair and blue eyes, her polished demeanor complemented by a charming businesslike smile.
"Hello, sir. May I see your badge before you enter?"
"Sure, here you go." I tug the lanyard off my neck and show her my badge.
"Ah, Mr. Spider-Man," she says, scanning it quickly. "Nice to meet you. Please enjoy any of our facilities to the fullest extent."
"Thanks," I reply, slipping the lanyard back on and giving her a small wave as I walk past. For a moment, I wonder if I should ask for her number, but I shake the thought away.
"Nah, better off staying a bachelor," I mutter with a dry smile.
The interior is massive—far bigger than the building's exterior suggested. Machines hum, weights clang, and people move in and out of large training areas.
"Damn, this place is *definitely* bigger on the inside," I say under my breath.
"It takes some getting used to, huh?" a voice says from behind me. "So, are you new here or just finally making it up to this floor?"
I turn around, having sensed someone approaching but unsure of their intentions. Facing me is a pale-skinned boy with brown hair, blue eyes, and a slightly overweight frame.
"Ah, hello. Yeah, I'm just a newbie—nothing special," I reply.
"Sorry to bother you," he says, offering a nervous, awkward smile. "I just heard you mumbling and thought I could help answer your question."
"No problem," I say, extending a hand. "Might as well learn more about this place while I'm here."
"Wade Watts. Nice to meet you," he says, shaking my hand.
"Spider-Man," I reply, rubbing the back of my head. Geez, saying that out loud to another hero feels a bit embarrassing. At least the mask hides my expression.
"That's a cool name—kinda catchy, really," Wade says. His eyes light up as he looks at my suit. "And your suit—it's awesome. You put a lot of effort into it, didn't you? Is it your first one?"
"Yeah, it's my first," I admit, tugging at the fabric on my sleeve.
"Thought so. The coat isn't just for show, is it? Looks like it could stop light bullets and maybe some medium rounds, but it'd break down with too much damage."
"You can tell all that just by looking?" I ask, surprised.
"Ah, sorry," Wade says, his gaze dropping. "I'm kind of a nerd about this stuff."
"No need to apologize. Actually, if you've got tips for improvements, I'm all ears. Honestly, I got hooked on making suits—there's something oddly addictive about it."
His eyes widen slightly, and I can see a spark of excitement.
"You *get* it! Making suits is more than just looks; it's about protection, functionality—it's an art!"
As he gushes, I take a moment to process everything he's saying.
"Hey, where's your suit?" I ask, curious.
"Uh, well… I don't have one," he says, looking embarrassed. "It's not that I *can't* make one—I just don't have great powers to go with it."
"Mind showing me?"
"Sure, but, uh… don't laugh," he says reluctantly.
He raises a hand, and a small electrical spark zaps from his fingers.
"Zap!"
It's faint, like the static shock from touching a slide.
"I can create small electrical discharges… and this," he says, concentrating. A tiny butterfly materializes in front of us, numbers and code flickering across its translucent wings as faint electrical zaps shoot out with each flap.
I stare at the intricate illusion, intrigued.
"Hmm, the zapping's basic, but that illusion… there's more potential there than you think," I say, watching as the butterfly dissipates.
"You think so?"
"Yeah. So, how about we be friends? I could use a buddy to swap suit-making tips with."
"F-Friends? With me? I'm just a useless—"
"Hey, don't call yourself useless," I interrupt. "Who knows—maybe your powers haven't fully awakened yet. Even without them, I can tell there's more to you than you realize."
For a moment, he stares at me blankly. Then, a small smile breaks through.
"Thanks, Spider-Man."
"Call me Spidey—it's less formal," I say, brushing it off.
"Alright. Thanks, Spidey," Wade says, extending his fist.
"To friends?" I ask, bumping my fist against his.
"To friends."
"Hey, Wade, think you can show me around? You seem to know this place better than I do."
"Sure thing! I've been here about two weeks, so I've got the fourth floor down pretty well—haven't ventured to the fifth yet, though."
"Lead the way," I say, following him deeper into the massive training center.