Chapter 8: Consequences.
(General P.O.V)
Peter handed Electro off to the cops with barely a word, disappearing into the chaos before the questions could start. A few weblines later, he was three rooftops away, crouched low and running off adrenaline.
But something was wrong.
The hairs on his arms stood up. His Spider Sense didn't buzz, but something else—intuition, maybe—itched at the back of his neck.
He stopped on a rooftop near 14th, dead quiet, no sirens, no civilians.
Then said flatly, "You can come out now."
A soft clink answered. Grapple hook retracting. A figure swung into view and landed behind him in a single smooth motion.
Agent Black Cat.
Of course she'd followed him.
"Impressive," Peter said, turning to face her. "I didn't hear you at all."
And he had enhanced senses. Her stealth was greater than his own that's for sure.
She smirked. "You're not the only one who can move around up here."
She lifted her wrist, showed off a compact device with dual claw-hooks and a wire spool. "Shield issue. Quiet, fast, no fancy webs required."
Peter folded his arms. "So what do you want?"
Felicia tilted her head. "Cut the crap, Peter."
His blood went cold.
She kept her eyes on him, steady. "You really think I wouldn't recognize you?"
He took a step back. "I don't know what you're talking about lady."
Felicia's eyes narrowed, playful but sharp. "You're wearing the same boxers I bought you on your birthday. Red plaid. Left leg's got a tear."
Peter blinked. "I—what—Wait, what?"
She raised her eyebrows.
"Felicia?" His voice cracked, half-panicked.
"Took you long enough."
He knew the voice sounded familiar. He'd just been too tired and in pain to think about it.
Peter groaned, covering his face with one hand. "I'm going to throw myself off this building."
"Bit dramatic, even for you."
He sat down on the ledge, suddenly tired. "So… what, you've known the whole time?"
"Not the whole time. But tonight sealed it." She crossed her arms. "Nice form back there, by the way. Clean blast. Though I had no idea spiders could shoot out electricity."
He didn't respond. Neither had he.
She stepped closer. "Have you told Gwen?"
Peter shook his head. "No."
"Why?"
"Because the second I do, everything changes. It's not just me on the line anymore. It's her. May. They don't need this."
Felicia studied him, quiet for a moment. "That's noble. Dumb, but noble."
Peter didn't answer. The wind moved between them for a beat before he asked, "So why are you really here?"
She straightened. No smile now.
"I work for SHIELD," she said. "The Director, Nick Fury sent me."
Peter's stomach dropped. "Why?"
"Because ever since the Lizard incident, you've been on the radar. You're not just some guy in a torn up hoodie anymore. Spiderman's a variable. And Fury doesn't like variables. He wants to talk."
Peter looked out over the city, hands clenched.
"Talk about what?"
Felicia looked him dead in the eye. "About what comes next."
After thinking it over, he agreed to follow her.
-0-
The next day, Felicia didn't take him through a back door or an underground tunnel. She took him straight up.
They met on a rooftop in the West 40s, and she wordlessly tapped a small device on her belt. A pulse shimmered through the air. A few seconds later, a floating platform descended—silent, invisible until it was ten feet away.
They stepped aboard and started rising.
A few seconds later, the Triskelion came into view above them. Massive. Sleek. Floating just above the skyline like a shadow in daylight.
Peter stared. "You've got a floating base over Manhattan?"
Felicia smirked. "Technically, it's cloaked. But yeah."
The platform lifted them into a docking bay hidden within the underbelly of the ship.
Inside, the Triskelion was all polished steel, glass panels, and quiet power. Agents moved efficiently, armed and alert. Nobody looked surprised to see him. That unsettled him more than anything.
Felicia led him down a hallway into a wide chamber—part conference room, part command center. A single figure stood at the far end, staring out through a transparent wall at the skyline.
Nick Fury.
Black coat. Eye patch. Cold stare.
He turned as they entered.
"Peter Parker," he said. "Or do you prefer Spider-Man?"
Peter stayed quiet. Not out of fear—just caution. His identity being out there bothered him. Especially after Electro had ambushed him.
Fury walked toward him. "You've been busy. Wrestling. Street crime. Saving Norman Osborn. Taking out Electro. The Lizard situation."
Peter tensed at that last one.
"Manslaughter charges were about to hit you last week," Fury continued, stopping a few feet away. "Lucky for you, someone buried the file."
Peter looked at Felicia.
She gave a slight shrug.
"I'm not here to arrest you," Fury said. "I'm here to offer you something."
Peter folded his arms. "Let me guess, a job?"
"A choice. Join SHIELD. Officially. We pay well. You'd work as a field agent or science consultant given you're smart. Your identity would be protected. You'd be trained like the rest of our people—combat, recon, containment. No more sewing torn hoodies. You'd get a custom suit designed for your physiology."
Peter didn't answer.
"And that murder charge? Gone. Fully scrubbed."
It was a lot. Too much. The kind of offer someone in his position wasn't supposed to get.
Fury waited.
Peter finally said, "No."
Fury didn't blink. "Why?"
Peter's jaw tightened. "My last boss was responsible for a giant lizard that tried to kill a bunch of babies."
Fury actually cracked a faint smile. "Fair."
Peter added, "I've got a family. I already made a choice. I work for them."
"Told ya." Felicia added from the side.
Fury nodded slowly. "Then at least let us help you help yourself."
Peter tilted his head.
Fury gestured toward a hallway behind him. "We've got testing labs and training chambers far beyond anything you've used. Let us run a full power assessment. See what you're really working with. No strings."
Peter hesitated. Then nodded once.
"Alright. Let's see what I can do."
The SHIELD power test started simple. Too simple.
Sprint drills. Reflex capture. Wall scaling. Weighted lifts. Peter breezed through every trial like he was jogging through a playground. Even the AI-controlled combat drones—designed to mimic enhanced-speed opponents—barely pushed him. Felicia leaned against a console the whole time, arms crossed, smirking like she already knew how this would go.
Fury stood behind the glass wall with a small team of analysts watching monitors. One of them turned to him. "Sir, he's breaking our top-end metrics. Every category."
Peter didn't hear that part. He was too busy leaping thirty feet in a single bound, webbing up a moving target mid-air while dodging stun projectiles set to supersonic speeds—blindfolded.
After nearly an hour, he landed, breathing light, not even sweating- a little sore but that was because of yesterday's encounter with Electro.
He looked at the SHIELD techs watching him through the glass."Was that it?"
Before anyone could respond, the door slid open behind him.
Felicia walked in, her expression changed from playful to serious.
"Test's over Spiderman." she said.
Peter blinked. "That bad, huh?"
She handed him a tablet. "Worse. Just received some news."
The screen showed grainy footage. Security escort. Armored transport. Lightning tearing through it like it was made of tissue paper. Agents scattered, unconscious or convulsing.
Electro.
Gone.
Peter's grip on the tablet tightened. "How the hell did he escape SHIELD custody?"
Felicia looked at Fury.
Fury didn't blink. "That's the question."
Peter narrowed his eyes. "He was after me. That wasn't a random hit in the alley. It was planned. Why?"
The ambush was one of the reasons he'd agreed to come.
Neither of them answered immediately.
Then Peter said, "What aren't you telling me?"
Fury exhaled through his nose. "Electro doesn't work alone."
Felicia added, "He's part of a team of supervillain enforcers. The Kingpin Six."
Peter stared at her. "That's not a real name."
She nodded grimly. "It is. Kingpin handpicked six enhanced assets. All loyal. All dangerous. And all trained to wipe out threats to his business."
Peter's stomach dropped. "So I'm a threat now? For what? Taking out a few thugs in the back alley of a wrestling promotion?"
He hadn't believed the thugs when they said they belonged to Kingpin's gang, and now it came back to bite him on the ass.
"Worse, you've just humiliated one of his enforcers, disrupted his operations, and drawn public attention to his network, making him look weak. Yeah, son," Fury said. "You're on his list."
Peter didn't hear the rest.
His mind jumped straight to Gwen.
To May.
He pulled out his phone and called home.
No answer.
Called again. Straight to voicemail.
"Come on, come on—"
Felicia stepped forward. "Spid- Pete, breathe. You don't know anything yet—"
"She always answers. Always."
He was already walking out the door, tossing the tablet aside.
Fury raised a hand. "We can send a team with—"
"No time," Peter said, already webbing up to the ceiling.
He fired a line, pulled himself through the upper hatch, and launched off the Triskelion's roof without waiting for clearance.
His family might be in danger.
And nothing else mattered.
Peter hit the rooftop two buildings over from his apartment and didn't stop. He leapt the gap, landed on his fire escape, and pulled open the window.
"Gwen? Babe-"
His Spider Sense shrieked.
He dove backward just as the apartment exploded.
The blast threw him off the building, heat and glass hammering his back. He caught a webline mid-fall and yanked himself back up to the rooftop, coughing smoke, eyes wide.
His home was in flames.
The apartment was half-gone—walls blown out, fire roaring across the top floor. Screams echoed from the lower levels. Sirens were already in the distance.
And then a voice spoke behind him.
"Don't worry. Your family's not in there."
Peter spun around.
A tall man in a costume stood on the ledge behind him, purple-clad, claws folded calmly over his chest like this was a scheduled meeting.
"Name's the Prowler. Electro was right, you're fast," the Prowler said. "Figured you might make it before it blew. Good for you."
Peter didn't waste breath. "Where are they?"
Prowler tilted his head. "Alive. For now. You want them back, you'll come to the address I give you. Tonight. Alone."
He tossed a small card onto the rooftop. It slid to Peter's feet—handwritten address on the back.
Peter looked down at it. His hands shook.
"Why?"
"Because Kingpin doesn't like interference," Prowler said. "And you've been interfering a lot lately, Mr.Parker."
Peter's fists clenched. He stepped forward.
Prowler held up one finger. "Before you get brave, look down."
Peter looked. Smoke billowed from the building. Flames had spread to the second floor. People were stuck. Calling for help. Coughing. Crying.
"You've got a choice," Prowler said. "Fight me and lose your neighbors. Or save them and show up like a good little trade package later."
Peter didn't answer. He couldn't.
Rage boiled under his skin.
He took a step back, voice low and shaking. "If even a single hair on Gwen or May is hurt…"
He raised his eyes to the masked figure in front of him.
"…not even the grace of God will stop me from killing every last one of you."
Prowler didn't respond. Just stepped back and vanished over the edge.
Peter turned to the fire, screamed into the smoke, then dove in headfirst.
The rescue came first.
The war would come next.