The mall was alive with its usual hum of activity: the steady rhythm of footsteps, the hum of distant conversations, and the occasional squeal of excitement from the arcade. But Peter Parker wasn't part of the buzz. Hood pulled low, he leaned against a column, his eyes fixed on the group of men near the fountain. His spider-sense buzzed faintly, a constant, nagging whisper that danger was close.
The group looked ordinary at first glance—men in casual jackets and jeans, blending in with the bustling crowd. But their movements were too precise, their eyes scanning the area too intently. Peter's gut churned as one of them unzipped a duffel bag, revealing a faintly glowing device partially concealed under a cloth. The soft hum of energy coming from the bag was barely audible over the mall's noise, but it sent Peter's spider-sense into overdrive.
The leader, a wiry man with a sharp gaze, gestured subtly to his crew. One of them started a loud argument with a bystander near the fountain, his voice rising above the general din. The distraction worked—the crowd's attention shifted, curious faces turning toward the commotion. Even the security guards glanced over, their focus temporarily diverted.
Peter stayed still, blending into the background as his heart pounded. They're trying to distract everyone for something. But what?
One of the men reached into the duffel bag, pulling out the glowing device. The cloth slipped slightly, revealing part of Oscorp's logo etched onto its surface. Peter's eyes narrowed. Oscorp tech. This isn't just some random theft.
Acting quickly, Peter fired a thin strand of webbing at the device, yanking it out of the man's grasp. The sudden motion made the man stumble back, cursing loudly. "What the hell was that?!"
The device clattered to the ground, the faint hum growing louder. Panic flickered in the men's faces as they scrambled to grab it. Peter darted closer, using the chaos to his advantage. He crouched low, unseen, and fired another web, snagging the duffel bag from the leader's shoulder. The man spun around, confused, as the bag was pulled into the shadows.
"Who's there?!" the leader shouted, his voice sharp with alarm.
Peter didn't stick around to answer. Clutching the bag, he slipped into a service corridor, his sneakers barely making a sound against the tiled floor. Behind him, the group scattered, their nerves fraying as security guards rushed toward the commotion.
The Parker apartment was quiet, the muffled hum of the television in the living room the only sound breaking the stillness. In his room, Peter sat at his desk, the duffel bag laid open in front of him. The Oscorp tech inside glinted under the glow of his desk lamp, each piece radiating a faint hum of energy.
Peter pulled out the largest component, a cylindrical device marked with Oscorp's logo and engraved with complex symbols. It felt heavier than it looked, its surface smooth and cold to the touch. He turned it over in his hands, studying the faintly glowing core.
"What are you guys up to now, Norman?" Peter muttered under his breath.
He placed the device carefully on the desk and opened his laptop. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he began digging into Oscorp's records. Publicly, their projects were marketed as revolutionary: renewable energy solutions, cutting-edge medical advancements, and innovations in AI. But Peter knew better. He'd seen what Oscorp was capable of—and the secrets they were willing to hide.
His search eventually led him to a series of obscure articles and leaked documents. One headline caught his eye: "Project Vulture: Oscorp's Secret Flight Initiative."
Peter clicked on the link, his eyes scanning the text rapidly. The article described an experimental exosuit designed for high-speed aerial combat, powered by advanced energy cells. It mentioned prototypes being developed in Oscorp's classified labs, but the details were vague.
Peter glanced at the device on his desk, his mind racing. Could this be part of Project Vulture? The idea sent a chill down his spine. If Oscorp's tech was ending up on the black market, who else had access to it? And what were they planning to do with it?
His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts. A text from Gwen lit up the screen:
Gwen: Still feeling unwell? Hope you're okay!
Harry: Dude, you missed some epic pizza. You better make it up next time.
Peter sighed, typing out a quick reply: Sorry, guys. Just needed some air. Catch you later.
Setting his phone down, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. The weight of everything—the Scorpion incident, Oscorp's experiments, and now this stolen tech—pressed heavily on his shoulders. He didn't know where to start or how to stop it, but he couldn't ignore it.
A soft knock at the door broke his concentration. Aunt May stepped in, her face lined with quiet concern. "Peter? You've been in here all evening. Everything okay?"
Peter forced a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, just… working on a project."
May glanced at the closed duffel bag on his desk, her brow furrowing slightly. "You've seemed a little distracted lately. Is there something you want to talk about?"
Peter shook his head quickly. "I'm fine, Aunt May. Really. Just… school stuff."
May didn't look convinced, but she didn't press further. She rested a hand on his shoulder, her touch warm and reassuring. "Alright. Just remember, you don't have to carry everything on your own, okay? We're here for you."
Peter nodded, his throat tight. "Thanks, May."
As she left, Peter turned back to the Oscorp tech, his resolve hardening. I might not be ready to be a hero, but I can't sit back and do nothing.
Opening his laptop again, he began cross-referencing the stolen components with every scrap of information he could find on Oscorp's classified projects. Piece by piece, the puzzle began to take shape—and the picture it formed was more dangerous than he'd imagined.
At Oscorp Tower, the atmosphere was tense. In the surveillance room, multiple screens displayed footage from the mall, replaying the commotion near the fountain. Norman Osborn stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his sharp eyes fixed on the footage.
"Pause it there," he ordered. The technician froze the frame, highlighting the moment the duffel bag was yanked away. Norman's gaze narrowed.
"Subtle," Alaric Kane remarked, leaning against the console. "But not subtle enough. Someone's interfering."
"Spider-Boy," Norman said flatly, his tone laced with disdain. "Our security team reported seeing him during the Scorpion incident. He's meddling again."
Kane shrugged. "Or it's just a lucky bystander. Either way, the stolen tech is a bigger problem. That bag contained components from Project Vulture."
Norman's jaw tightened. "Then retrieve it. I want those pieces back before they cause any more damage."
"And Spider-Boy?" Kane asked, raising an eyebrow.
Norman's lips curled into a thin, humorless smile. "Let him interfere. He's just a nuisance. Our real focus is ensuring the task force is ready. Project Vulture must move forward without delays."
Kane nodded, his smirk fading as he straightened. "Consider it done."
Norman turned back to the screens, his eyes cold and calculating. "No more mistakes. This city may hate Oscorp now, but soon enough… they'll see we're the only ones who can save it."