Marvel: The Spider-Grind

The demonstration hall was packed with investors, scientists, and prospective clients, all eagerly awaiting the unveiling of Oscorp's latest technological marvel. Peter stood near the back with Harry, blending into the crowd. At the center of the room stood Dr. Otto Octavius, surrounded by the fusion reactor and his iconic mechanical arms.

Peter's eyes roamed over the setup. The reactor gleamed under the bright lights, a compact yet powerful machine designed to harness the energy of nuclear fusion. Surrounding it, four mechanical arms hung like sentinels, each equipped with advanced sensors and tools.

This is where it all begins, Peter thought. If Otto ever loses control of those arms, the consequences would be dire.

Dr. Octavius stepped forward, his voice booming through the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us today. What you're about to witness is the future of sustainable energy. A self-sustaining fusion reaction using tritium as its fuel source."

Otto gestured to the reactor. "This small device has the potential to power an entire city without producing harmful byproducts. It's clean, efficient, and limitless. And these..." he motioned to the mechanical arms, "...are the key to making it all possible."

He explained how the arms were connected to a neural interface, allowing him to control them with his thoughts. Each arm was designed to withstand extreme temperatures and magnetism, enabling them to manipulate the fusion core safely.

Peter listened intently, comparing Otto's explanation to what he remembered from his old world.

He's right. The science is sound. But even the smallest mistake could destabilize the reaction. I have to keep an eye on this.

The demonstration began. Otto activated the reactor, and a bright light filled the room as the tritium core ignited. The mechanical arms sprang to life, moving with precision as they stabilized the magnetic fields around the core. The audience watched in awe as the fusion reaction grew, creating a miniature sun contained within the reactor.

"This is it," Otto said, his voice filled with pride. "The power of the sun, harnessed in the palm of my hand."

The crowd erupted into applause as the reactor stabilized, its energy output displayed on a large screen. Investors whispered excitedly among themselves, and a few even approached Norman to congratulate him.

Peter felt a surge of relief. No accidents. Not today, at least.

After the demonstration, the room buzzed with conversation. Investors discussed the commercial potential of the reactor, while scientists debated its implications for the future of energy.

Peter stayed close to Harry, quietly observing. Soon, Otto found them, accompanied by Norman.

"Well, what did you think?" Otto asked, addressing Peter.

"It was incredible," Peter said honestly. "The precision of the arms, the stability of the reaction. It was all perfect."

Norman smiled, clearly pleased by the praise. "I told you he'd appreciate it, Otto. Peter's got a sharp mind."

"Sharp indeed," Otto agreed. "You know, if you're ever interested, I could use an assistant. Someone to help with the finer details of my work."

Peter hesitated, then smiled politely. "Thank you, Dr. Octavius, but I think my interests lie more in genetics than physics. I was actually hoping to apply for the assistant position under Dr. Connors."

Norman raised an eyebrow. "Genetics? That's quite a shift from fusion reactors."

Peter chuckled. "I've always been fascinated by it. And I've done a lot of reading on Dr. Connors' work. I think I'd be a good fit."

Norman's skepticism was evident. "You've proven yourself when it comes to physics, Peter. But genetics is a different field altogether. Tell me how would you ensure proper sterilization of lab equipment?"

Peter replied without missing a beat. "I'd use an autoclave for heat-resistant tools and an ethanol solution for delicate instruments. UV sterilization could also be used for non-porous surfaces."

Norman nodded, clearly impressed. "And what about preparing biological samples for analysis?"

Peter answered each question confidently, drawing on both his newfound knowledge and his rapid adaptability. By the end of the impromptu interview, Norman seemed satisfied.

"All right," Norman said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Let's see if Dr. Connors agrees."

Norman led Peter to one of the labs on the 15th floor. Dr. Curt Connors was hunched over a microscope, his movements frantic. He barely acknowledged their arrival, his focus entirely on his work.

"Curt," Norman said sharply. "I've brought you an assistant. He'll help you finish the project on time."

Connors looked up, his expression impatient. "I don't need an assistant, Norman. I need more time. The project is delicate and rushing it will only increase the risk of failure."

"You've had enough time," Norman replied coolly. "Peter here is more than capable of assisting you. He'll handle the routine tasks so you can focus on the important details."

"You look too young, are you a high school student?" Dr.Connors turned to Peter.

"Yes. But I know all the basics and have already read all your papers," Peter answered.

Connors sighed, clearly unhappy but unwilling to argue further. He gave Peter a quick briefing.

"You'll be responsible for cleaning the equipment every evening and preparing the lab every Saturday and Sunday. Make sure everything is spotless. Contamination could ruin weeks of work."

Peter nodded. "Understood, Dr. Connors."

Without another word, Connors returned to his microscope, muttering to himself about protein synthesis and tissue regeneration.

Peter got to work immediately, cleaning the lab equipment with precision and efficiency. Thanks to his rapid adaptability, he quickly memorized the layout of the lab and the proper cleaning procedures.

This isn't so bad, he thought. It's a bit mundane, but it's a start. And it gives me access to Connors' research. This will soon help me develop other serums to further my powers.

Once he was done, he said goodbye to Norman and made his way out of the building.

As Peter walked home, he pulled out his phone and texted Harry.

"Hey, I need a favor. Can you lend me $300? I'll pay you back as soon as I get my first paycheck."

Harry replied almost immediately. "$300? What for?"

"Lab supplies," Peter typed back. "And maybe some personal projects."

"Fine, but you owe me. And you have to hang out with me next weekend."

"Deal."

A few minutes later, Peter received a notification. Harry had wired the money.

That was easier than I expected. Guess being friends with a future billionaire has its perks.

On the way home, Peter stopped at a local grocery store and picked up some chicken and vegetables. He had a plan to surprise Aunt May with a special dinner.

When he arrived home, May was sitting in the living room, reading a book.

"Peter, you're home late," she said, looking up.

"I had some errands to run," Peter said, holding up the groceries. "And I thought I'd make dinner tonight."

May raised an eyebrow. "You? Cooking dinner? This I have to see."

Peter laughed. "Trust me, you're going to love it."

He got to work in the kitchen, preparing a simple but delicious meal. By the time they sat down to eat, May looked genuinely touched.

"This is wonderful, Peter," she said, smiling.

Peter grinned. "Well, I learned from the best."

As they ate, Peter felt a rare sense of peace. For once, everything seemed to be going his way.

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