One week.
Seven days had passed since I arrived in this universe.
In novels, a week is usually skipped in a single sentence. In reality, it was a long series of moments that solidified my place in this world.
My routine had settled into a strange but comfortable rhythm.
Morning: Wake up before the alarm. Feed Nox (who had grown surprisingly fast and mastered the art of hiding in the ventilation ducts whenever Mrs. Higgins was near). Shower. Eat a mediocre breakfast at the cafeteria.
School: It was... easy. Too easy. Thanks to my [Untalented] skill, I was breezing through every subject. Mr. Harrington now looked at me with a mix of awe and suspicion, probably wondering if I was cheating or if I had been replaced by a genius clone.
Social: Peter Parker had officially become my shadow. After the "Flash Incident"—as the school whispered about it—Peter saw me as some sort of cool, stoic older brother. He would ramble on about Stark Industries' new tech or some obscure physics theory during lunch. I mostly listened, nodding at the right times, occasionally dropping a hint that would help him solve a problem he was stuck on.
Flash Thompson? He avoided me like the plague. Every time our eyes met, he would turn pale and walk the other direction. It seemed my "Karma" comment had spooked him more than the fall itself.
And then, there was Harry Osborn.
Every day after school, the black limousine would be there. And every day, as Peter ran to meet him, Harry and I would exchange that same silent nod.
It had become a ritual. A brief moment of acknowledgement between two people who felt out of place in the chaos of high school. We hadn't spoken a word, yet the tension—curiosity, really—was building up like a charged capacitor.
Sunday Evening.
The dormitory was quiet. Sam had gone home to visit his parents, and Dave was out on a date (or so he claimed).
I was alone in the room, sitting cross-legged on my bed. Nox was asleep on my lap, purring like a small engine.
I checked the holographic clock in my mind.
[Skill Creation Cooldown: 00:00:00]
[Ding~ New Skill Creation Point generated.] [Current Points: 1]
I took a deep breath. "Finally."
I gently moved Nox to the pillow and stood up. It was time to choose my second skill.
"System, show me the restrictions."
[Ding~ In response to the Host... With a standard Creation Point (non-gift), you are limited to A-Rank skills or below. S-Rank and above require special cards or multiple points.]
"I see. So no reality warping today," I mused. "That's fine. I need utility."
I analyzed my current build. I had Offense/Control covered with Mental Strength (Telekinesis, Telepathy). I had Learning/Growth covered with Untalented.
What I lacked was Mobility and Defense.
If a sniper shot me from a mile away before I could sense them, I would die. If a building collapsed on me faster than I could catch it with my mind, I would be crushed. My body was still disappointingly human.
"I need a way to escape or endure," I muttered.
I considered a regeneration factor, like Wolverine's. But that would just mean I'd survive pain, not avoid it. I didn't enjoy pain.
"I choose... Space."
"System, search for A-Rank Spatial skills."
[Ding~ Searching...
Spatial Inventory: Store items in a pocket dimension. (Rank: B)
Short-Range Teleportation (Blink): Instantly move to a location within line of sight or sensory range. (Rank: A)
Portal Creation: Open gateways between two fixed points. (Rank: A)]
My eyes lit up.
"Teleportation. It's the ultimate defense and offense combined. If I'm not there, I can't be hit."
"System, create the skill: [Spatial Blink]."
[Ding~ Analyzing request... Skill fits within A-Rank parameters. Creating...]
A sensation washed over me—different from the mental expansion I felt before. This felt like my body was turning into static, vibrating at a different frequency than the rest of the world. It was disorienting for a second, then it felt... natural.
[Ding~ Skill Created: [Spatial Blink] (Rank A)] [Effect: The user can instantly transport their physical body to any location they can see or sense within a 1-kilometer radius. Continuous use consumes stamina.]
I looked at the other side of the room, near the door.
Blink.
There was no sound. No bamf like Nightcrawler. One millisecond I was by the bed, the next I was by the door.
"Perfect," I grinned. "No travel time. Just existence shifting."
Now, I was much harder to kill.
The Next Day. Monday.
School ended as usual. I walked out, planning to test the limits of my teleportation in a secluded area later.
"Matthew."
The voice was smooth, tired, and expensive.
I stopped and turned.
Standing there, leaning against the black limousine, was Harry Osborn. He wasn't inside the car today. He was outside, waiting.
Peter was standing next to him, looking a bit nervous but excited. "Matt! Harry wanted to—"
"I wanted to properly introduce myself," Harry interrupted gently, stepping forward. He extended a hand. His grip was firm, but his skin was cold. "Harry Osborn. Peter talks about you a lot."
I shook his hand calmly. "Matthew White. I hope Peter hasn't been boring you with my chemistry exploits."
"On the contrary," Harry said, a faint smile touching his lips. It made him look younger, less burdened. "He says you're a genius who refuses to show it. And that you threw Flash Thompson across the cafeteria with your mind."
Peter turned bright red. "I didn't say it like that! I said it seemed like magic!"
I laughed softly. "People see what they want to see. Flash just tripped."
Harry looked me in the eyes. That same analytical, deep gaze.
"I don't think he just tripped," Harry said quietly, so only I could hear. "And I don't think you're just a normal student, Matthew."
I raised an eyebrow. "Is that an accusation, Mr. Osborn?"
"No," Harry shook his head, releasing my hand. "It's an invitation."
He opened the car door.
"We're going to grab some coffee. Real coffee, not the cafeteria sludge. Peter is coming. Join us."
It wasn't a question. It was a request from a lonely prince looking for a new courtier.
I looked at Peter, who was nodding enthusiastically. Then I looked at Harry.
"Free coffee?" I asked.
" The best in the city," Harry promised.
I checked my internal clock. I had time. And honestly? I was curious about the boy who would one day become the Green Goblin.
"Lead the way," I said.
As I slid into the limousine's leather interior, I couldn't help but think:
'Chapter One of the real story starts now.'