Marvel: The Spider-Grind

Early sunday morning sir was crisp as Peter peaked through his window. He got up, excitement bubbling in his chest. Today was the day he would test his webshooters. After a quick breakfast and making sure Aunt May was still asleep, Peter grabbed his gear.

The makeshift mask and gloves he had fashioned from old clothes felt crude, but they would do for now. He packed his webshooters, extra fluid cartridges, and a toolkit, then slipped out the door unnoticed.

Peter found himself in an abandoned construction site on the outskirts of the city. The towering steel beams and half-finished structures provided the perfect playground for his experiment.

Standing atop a concrete platform, Peter slid the webshooters onto his wrists and secured the straps. He took a deep breath, muttering to himself, "Alright, Parker. Time to see if all that chemistry and engineering actually works."

He raised his arm, aiming at a nearby beam. With a press of the trigger, a thin, silvery strand shot out, attaching itself firmly to the metal. Peter gave it a gentle tug, testing its strength.

"Not bad," he said, nodding.

Next, he adjusted the web fluid pressure using the small dial on the shooter. He fired again, this time at a farther beam. The web flew true, striking its target with a satisfying thwip.

"Okay, aiming works. Let's see if this thing can handle some weight."

Peter grabbed the strand and gave it a hard pull. It held steady. Taking a leap of faith, he gripped the web with both hands and swung forward. His heart raced as he soared through the air, the wind rushing past his ears.

"Whoa!" he shouted, landing ungracefully on a platform.

Peter dusted himself off, grinning. "Alright, that was rough, but we're getting somewhere."

For the next hour, Peter repeated the process, making adjustments to the shooters after each trial. He tweaked the pressure settings, adjusted the web fluid composition, and even modified the trigger mechanism for better response. With every swing, his rapid adaptability kicked in, and his movements became more fluid and precise.

By the time he was done, Peter felt like an experienced aerialist. He could swing, flip, and land with ease, his body moving instinctively.

He stood on a high beam, gazing out at the city skyline. "This... this is amazing," he whispered to himself. "I can do so much with this. But I've got to be careful."

After his successful trial, Peter packed up and headed to Oscorp.

At Oscorp, Peter followed his usual routine of preparing the lab. As he worked, Dr. Connors entered, his face was a mix of focus and irritation, as though he had already been wrestling with a problem before stepping into the lab.

"Good morning, Dr. Connors," Peter greeted politely.

Connors scanned the setup. "Morning, Peter..," he muttered.

As the morning wore on, Peter watched Connors work. The regenerative serum was the focus of today's experiments. Peter knew this was a dangerous path, but he had to approach the subject delicately.

"Dr. Connors," Peter began, keeping his tone light, "I was looking over some of the notes you shared the other day. It's incredible work."

Connors looked up, his expression curious. "Oh? What about it?"

"Well, I know the goal is to promote limb regeneration, but cross-species genetics is uncharted territory...."

Connors interrupted, his expression irritated. "Yesterday it was the mutations. What are you getting at, Parker? Are you questioning my methods?"

Peter answered. "Not at all, Sir. But theories don't always account for real-world variables. For example, what if the lizard DNA triggers aggressive behavior or rapid cellular decay? Have you tested long-term effects on the subjects?"

Connors hesitated, clearly unsettled by the question. "We've conducted short-term tests, but… the long-term data is incomplete."

Peter pulled out a notebook filled with diagrams and notes he had prepared earlier. "I've been doing some reading. Here's a list of potential complications and suggested ways to mitigate them. For instance, you could use a secondary inhibitor to stabilize the serum and monitor cellular activity more closely."

Connors sighed, clearly torn between his irritation and the logic of Peter's suggestion. "Fine," he said at last. " I'll admit that some of these points are valid. I'll take a closer look at the data."

Peter smiled. "Of course, sir. I'm just here to help. Your work is too important to be rushed." He felt a little relieved. Aleast he had planted a seed of caution in Connors' mind.

After completing his tasks, Peter headed to the cafeteria with his laptop. He found a quiet corner and opened a coding environment.

"Time to brush up on some skills," Peter thought.

He spent the next hour diving into web development, cryptography, and advanced computer science topics. He knew these skills would be invaluable for his future plans: for earning money and for his new double life. He needed to stay ahead of the curve.

Later that afternoon, Peter returned to the lab to clean up. Connors barely acknowledged him, muttering to himself as he pored over the serum data. Peter worked quickly and efficiently, his mind already planning the rest of his evening.

Later that night, Peter found himself in his small makeshift training area in the basement. Wearing workout clothes, he practiced his martial arts routines, refining his punches, kicks, and stances.

"Being able to swing around the city is great," he thought, drinking some water from his bottle, "but I need to be able to hold my own in a fight."

His movements were precise and calculated, his rapid adaptability helping him improve with every strike. Sweat dripped down his face as be continued to train, but he didn't stop.

After an hour of training, Peter sat on the floor, catching his breath. He looked up at the ceiling, his thoughts racing.

"Tonight," he whispered to himself. "Time to see what I am really capable of... And what this city is hiding."

He got up and prepared for tonight, silently. His double life will all be over if Aunty May found out.

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