Ethan's first real test came the next morning. The strange, overwhelming sensations from the spider bite had left him restless all night, but now that daylight filtered through the blinds, he had one thing on his mind: testing his new abilities.
His hand throbbed where the spider had bitten him, a constant reminder of the life-changing event. He glanced at the clock. He had just enough time before his afternoon classes began.
This is it, Ethan thought, his pulse quickening. He couldn't waste time. He had no idea what kind of power he had gained, or how deep it went, but one thing was certain—he wasn't going to squander the opportunity.
Pulling a black hoodie over his head, Ethan grabbed a pair of gloves from his drawer. They were simple—nothing fancy, just cheap, black, and a little worn from use. But today, they'd serve a greater purpose. He didn't have the luxury of making mistakes in public. His identity needed to remain secret for now, so he wrapped a scarf around his neck, pulling it up to cover his face, leaving only his eyes visible. He had to be careful.
After a quick scan of his room, he noticed the small window near his desk. The perfect exit. He could climb out, test his newfound powers, and get back before anyone noticed.
Alright, let's see how far this goes.
He positioned himself in front of the window and then climbed up to the ledge. His hands went instinctively to the frame of the window, and before he even realized it, his body was scaling the side of his building. The feeling of climbing felt natural—no awkwardness, no uncertainty. He had a perfect grip, his fingers digging into the bricks as if he'd been doing this for years.
Ethan's mind raced as he climbed higher. He reached the roof of his building in record time, standing on the edge, looking out over the city. The wind whipped through his hair, but he didn't flinch. This was his moment. No more hiding, no more doubting.
But now came the harder part.
He had no web-shooters. His abilities weren't like Peter's, whose webs had always seemed so effortless. Instead, Ethan's powers were more complex—his strength, his agility, the wall-crawling. What he lacked in natural webbing, he'd make up for in brains.
It's time to make something work.
Ethan had always been good with technology, having spent countless hours tinkering with gadgets and projects back in his old life. This time, he was going to put those skills to the test, and he wasn't going to fail.
Pulling his gloves tighter, he reached into his backpack and pulled out the makeshift toolkit he'd packed for this very occasion. Inside, he had a couple of old plastic bottles, some wires, and a few metal scraps he'd scavenged from the junkyard. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.
Okay, web-shooter design… he thought, sitting cross-legged on the roof. Three parts: a trigger, a web cartridge, and some kind of nozzle.
The first part, the trigger, was easy. He repurposed a small mechanical spring from an old pen, attaching it to a loop that he could strap around his wrist. His hands worked quickly, assembling the mechanism with practiced precision. Next, the web cartridge. Ethan had a container he could use from one of the bottles, but the hard part would be creating the webbing itself. The chemicals required were outside his grasp for now, so he'd need to focus on something simpler—synthetic threads.
His mind whirred, focusing on the task at hand. He connected the nozzle to the cartridge and attached it to the web-shooter's main body. Then, after another few minutes of tweaking, he finally had something that resembled a working prototype.
Alright, here goes nothing.
Strapping the web-shooters to both wrists, he stood up, testing the weight of the devices. They felt awkward at first—too bulky, but functional. Ethan adjusted them to fit snugly, running through the motions in his mind. Breathe, focus. Test everything before you make a move.
He raised his arm and squeezed the trigger.
Pftt!
The sound was nothing like he expected—less of a shot and more of a squirt. The webbing, if you could call it that, shot out in a limp, useless strand, falling short of even reaching the ledge. Ethan cursed, frustration bubbling up in his chest. The first attempt was a failure, and he hadn't even gotten off the roof yet.
Don't stop. Keep going.
He took the time to refine the nozzle, adjusting the angle and pressure. Each shot now had a stronger push, though the webbing itself was still far from perfect. It didn't have the clean snap that he'd seen Spider-Man use in the movies—no neat, sticky strands shooting across rooftops. Instead, the webbing was thick and messy, but it held enough to give him a shot at trying again.
On his third attempt, the webbing shot out with more force, catching the edge of a nearby rooftop. Ethan grinned. It wasn't perfect, but it was progress.
He swung his body forward, letting the webbing carry his weight, only for the strand to snap under the strain. He crashed down into the gravel on the rooftop with a groan.
Okay, okay… keep your head in the game.
Testing the webbing again, Ethan adjusted the web-shooter's tension. This time, when he shot the webbing, he didn't swing. Instead, he used it to help propel himself upward, jumping across the roof with newfound confidence. The webbing wasn't holding perfectly, but with each try, he was starting to understand the feel of it. Each miss and each failure brought him closer to success.
By the time he had exhausted the first round of makeshift webbing, Ethan was sweating and breathless. But he had learned something valuable—he wasn't just making web-shooters. He was becoming Spider-Man. Slowly, but surely.
The sun was setting now, casting an orange glow across the skyline. Ethan smiled under his scarf, feeling a sense of accomplishment. His fingers tingled, still feeling the power of the spider coursing through him, making him stronger and faster.
He pulled himself back to the edge of the building and slung his backpack over his shoulder. He'd be back. The grind had just begun, and he was only getting started. But for now, he had to return to his normal life—or at least, appear to.
As he made his way back to his window, Ethan took a deep breath and made one last mental note: Learn, adapt, evolve. That's the key. The grind doesn't stop here.
With that, he swung himself back inside, closed the window behind him, and returned to his routine, knowing full well that every moment was another opportunity to get stronger, faster, better.
And he'd need every ounce of that power for the battles ahead.