"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.
As we approached the bustling training facility, the lively atmosphere hit me like a wave. People of all shapes and sizes moved around, interacting with machines and equipment so advanced I could hardly grasp their function. Sparks of energy, the hum of machinery, and the murmur of voices filled the air, creating a chaotic but oddly exciting harmony.
"At the far end," Wade said, gesturing toward a row of sleek cube-shaped rooms, "those are danger rooms. They're used for testing out new abilities or learning to control powers. Pretty handy if you've got something volatile."
I nodded, observing one of the glowing rooms with intrigue. *Maybe I could use that to figure out what I can do,* I thought silently.
"They've got training dummies you can take in there too," Wade added. "The higher-grade models are more durable but cost a fortune to repair. If you're practicing strength control, it's better to stick with the lower-tier ones—they're cheaper to fix if you break 'em."
"Why do the expensive ones even have a mode to mimic normal human strength?" I asked, raising a brow.
"Beats me," Wade shrugged. "Apparently, too many people kept smashing them by accident. Now it's an unspoken rule to stick to the basics unless you're loaded."
"I'll keep that in mind. Not like I have cash to spare anyway," I replied with a small laugh, shrugging.
"Tell me about it," Wade muttered, his gaze drifting off as his face darkened slightly. "It never gets easier—especially with all the crap we deal with."
Before I could respond, my attention was drawn to a commotion nearby. A group of people had gathered around, their excited chatter catching my ear.
"Who's that?" I asked, nodding toward the crowd.
Wade glanced over, his expression immediately souring. "Ugh. That's Flashy Flash."
"Flashy Flash?" I repeated, confused. "From the look on your face, he's not exactly your favorite person."
"He's not," Wade groaned, rolling his eyes. "The guy's a total ass. Thinks he's God's gift to women. He's always either hitting on someone or being a cocky jerk. Massive ego. You'd hate him."
"Sounds like every high school jock rolled into one," I remarked, crossing my arms.
"Exactly," Wade said, pointing at me. "You know the type."
I did. Memories of my own school days surfaced—memories of someone not unlike this so-called Flashy Flash. I clenched my fists, but I pushed the thoughts aside. "So why's everyone so hyped about him?"
Wade sighed. "As much of a tool as he is, the guy's got super speed. We don't see many speedsters around here, so his ability draws attention. It's cool, I guess, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of saying it to his face."
"Super speed, huh? Guess that's something worth seeing," I admitted, curiosity getting the better of me. "Alright, one quick look won't hurt."
---
The crowd buzzed with excitement as Flashy Flash Ran the special treadmill, his lean, runner's physique illuminated by the facility's bright lights. His dirty blonde hair was damp with sweat, and his grin—arrogant and self-assured
"He's doing the gravity endurance test," Wade whispered, noticing my curiosity. "It's for speedsters. The machine increases gravitational pull as they run, testing how far they can go. The record's 10,000 miles."
The murmurs grew louder as Flash pushed himself harder, his legs becoming a blur. Gusts of wind kicked up around him, and his steps hit the treadmill with a rhythmic force.
"Come on, Flashy Flash!" someone shouted. "You've got this!"
"No way he's making it to 10k," another jeered. "Just give up already!"
Flash's grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a glare. "Shut up, you idiot! I'll show you!"
Watching him, something inside me stirred—a sharp, searing anger that clawed its way to the surface. My chest tightened, and before I realized it, black smoke began to seep from my body. My vision darkened, and my thoughts turned violent. All I could see was *him* Flash Thompson.
My fists clenched as I took a step forward, the smoke thickening around me. I didn't care about the crowd. I didn't care about the consequences. All I wanted was to—
"Hey, Spidey, you good?" Wade's voice cut through the haze, his hand on my shoulder.
I grabbed his wrist instinctively, my grip too tight. He winced but didn't pull away. "Spidey?"
The sound of my nickname snapped me back. I blinked, the black smoke vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. My breathing steadied, and the rage faded, leaving only confusion in its wake.
"Uh... yeah," I muttered, releasing Wade's wrist. "Sorry, just zoned out."
Wade studied me, concern etched across his face, but he didn't press the issue. "Alright, let's move on. This place has plenty more to see."
Without waiting for his reply, I turned and walked away, leaving Flashy Flash and his crowd behind.
---
Flash finally stumbled to a stop at 8,500 miles, collapsing onto the treadmill in exhaustion. He grabbed a towel, draping it over his head as he caught his breath. His smirk was gone, replaced by frustration.
"Damn it," he muttered. "I was so close. If I'd just pushed a little longer…"
A voice behind him interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, Flash. You did great."
He turned to see Melinda, a red-haired woman with a casual smile and an air of confidence. "What do you want, Melinda?" he asked, ignoring her compliment.
"Relax, I'm just here to see how the resident womanizer is doing," she teased, her grin widening.
"Very funny," Flash said, glaring at her. "What do you want?"
"Nothing, really," she replied with a shrug. "Just checking in before my transfer."
Flash frowned. "I see. Work?"
"As always," she said cryptically. "But enough about me. What's with you? You seemed different at the end there."
Flash hesitated. "Yeah… I don't know. I felt stronger for a moment, like I could keep going forever. But I also felt... angry. Really angry. It was weird."
Melinda's smile faded. "You're not the only one. I felt it too—just standing there. It was like my body tensed on its own, and bad memories started flooding back."
"What do you think it means?" Flash asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious.
Melinda shook her head. "I don't know. But for now, let's not overthink it. If it happens again, we'll figure it out."
Flash nodded slowly, watching as she walked away. His reflection stared back at him from the window, his thoughts a storm of confusion.