Marvel: The Spider-Grind

The sharp screech of tires and a blinding flash of light were the last things I remembered. Then, silence. A deep, suffocating silence. When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer the same.

I blinked up at the ceiling, my vision unfocused. It was a plain white surface, the faint sound of a fan humming overhead. For a moment, I thought I was in a hospital. Maybe I'd survived somehow and all of those.. the truck, death, was just a bad dream. But as my senses sharpened, the details became clearer. This wasn't a hospital room. It was…a bedroom.

Not my bedroom.

I sat up abruptly, my heart pounding. The room looked like something ripped out of a 90s sitcom. A mixture of chaos and charm. Comics were strewn across a desk, a few action figures leaned precariously on a shelf, and the walls were plastered with posters of superheroes: Iron Man, Captain America, and... Wolverine? My breath hitched.

The air smelled faintly of old wood and detergent. Everything felt oddly lived-in, yet completely alien to me.

"What the hell?" I muttered under my breath. My voice sounded…different. Younger. Softer.

I bolted to the mirror hanging on the wall and froze.

Staring back at me was a face I knew all too well. A face I'd seen countless times on comic book covers, movies, and posters. Brown hair, a boyish face, and wide, innocent eyes. I even gave my face a few experimental pokes just to make sure this wasn't some super-realistic dream. Nope, the face squished like it was supposed to. Of all the people I could've reincarnated as, why him? Why the biggest magnet for bad luck in comic history?

For what felt like an eternity, I stood frozen, my reflection mocking me with every passing second. Even my hands felt different, slender but wiry, as if they belonged to someone far more athletic.

"This can't be real," I whispered.

I was Peter Parker.

Memories of my old life clawed at the edges of my mind. I was just a regular, shy, introverted comic book enthusiast who'd just finished high school. I loved stories, superheroes, and the idea of adventure. But this? This was insane. I wasn't in the Marvel Universe. I was the Marvel Universe.

A knock at the door startled me out of my thoughts.

"Peter?" A warm, familiar voice called out. "Are you awake? Breakfast is ready."

Aunt May?

My heart skipped a beat. The mere mention of her name brought a lump to my throat. I'd read so much about her over the years, but hearing her voice was gentle, caring and overwhelming. I needed to play this cool. No one could know something was wrong.

"Uh, yeah! I'm coming!" My voice cracked slightly, but it worked.

I took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping into a cozy little hallway. The walls were lined with old family photos, Uncle Ben's face stood out immediately. He was already gone. I didn't need any memories of this world to know that. Wait? Does that mean I already have my powers? But it felt normal, be it my senses or the way my muscles stretched while walking. Looks like everything wasn't exactly like in comics. Peter was supposed to already have the powers, even before Uncle Ben died.

As I walked into the kitchen, I saw Aunt May bustling around the stove, her small frame moving with practiced ease. She looked just like the Aunt May I remembered from the comics. Not the younger, Hollywood version, but the classic May Parker. Her silver hair was tied back in a loose bun, and she wore a simple apron over her blouse.

"There you are," she said, turning to smile at me. Her eyes were warm, but there was a hint of worry in them. "You were so quiet, I thought you might still be sleeping. Sit down, I made pancakes."

"Thanks, Aunt May," I said softly, sitting at the small table.

She placed a plate in front of me, the smell of syrup and butter wafting up. It felt so…normal. Comforting, even. But the weight of everything was crushing me inside. I forced a smile, trying to act like everything was fine.

"Are you feeling okay, Peter?" she asked, sitting across from me. "You've been a bit…distracted lately."

Crap. Of course she'd notice. Aunt May was no fool.

"I'm fine," I lied, taking a bite of the pancake. "Just, uh…thinking about school and stuff."

She gave me a knowing look but didn't press further. "Well, if there's anything you want to talk about, you know I'm here."

"Yeah. Thanks, Aunt May," I said, genuinely grateful.

After breakfast, I retreated to Peter's room, needing a moment to breathe. My head was spinning with questions. How did this happen? Why me? And most importantly…where was I in the timeline?

I grabbed Peter's phone from the desk and unlocked it, relieved the passcode was already saved to his fingerprint. The home screen was filled with notifications of messages, emails, and news alerts.

The first thing I checked was the news feed.

"Military Hunts Hulk After Rampage in Nevada."

"Growing Concerns Over Mutant Threats."

"Crime Wave Sweeps Through New York City."

I read each headline carefully, trying to piece together the state of this world. The propaganda against mutants was strong, which meant the X-Men were active, but probably not in a good place. The Hulk being on the run suggested I was somewhere around the early Avengers timeline. The increasing crime rate screamed Wilson Fisk.

Interesting, I thought. As I read, a strange sensation began creeping over me. My thoughts became clearer, sharper. I could see connections forming between the headlines. It was like my brain was solving a puzzle on its own, piecing together the world's state from the scattered clues.

"Rapid adaptability," I muttered, the realization hitting me. This was my cheat. But how? How did I know about my cheat? Did something happen between both my lives?

So many questions and no answers.

Right now, all I knew was the more I focused, the faster I absorbed and processed information. It was like my brain was rewiring itself to be the perfect detective. Within minutes, I had a rough idea of where I stood:

Mutants were still a divisive issue.

The Avengers were likely in their early stages, given the Hulk's situation.

Midtown High was still just a school, untouched by major events, for now.

I put the phone down, letting out a shaky breath. I needed to check more. I opened Peter's messaging app and scrolled through his recent chats. Most of it was classmates talking about homework, reminders about school events, but a few names stood out.

Harry Osborn and Gwen Stacy.

The sight of their names gave me a jolt of excitement. Harry's messages were casual, full of jokes and plans to hang out. Gwen's were less frequent but friendly. She seemed close to Peter, but not overly so.

"Okay," I muttered to myself. "Harry and Gwen. I can work with this."

The ID card on the desk confirmed what I already knew, I was a student at Midtown High. Still, seeing it made my chest tighten with excitement. This was real. All of it.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I spent some time practicing small things like speaking, walking, even the way Peter smiled, using my cheat to blend in better. By the time Aunt May called me for dinner, I felt like I had nailed the basics.

As I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, my mind raced with thoughts. I was in the Marvel Universe, surrounded by heroes and villains I'd admired my whole life. The possibilities were endless.

But this wasn't a game. This world was dangerous, and one wrong move could cost me everything.

"Alright," I whispered to myself. "Step one: survive school. Step two: figure out what's coming."

For now, I'd take it slow. Tomorrow, I'd see Midtown High for the first time. And who knew? Maybe I'd finally meet Gwen and Harry in person.

My lips curled into a small smile. Despite the confusion and fear, I couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement.

This wasn't just a second chance. This was 'the' chance.

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