"…My name's Skye. And you're Jack Kadere, right? The 'handsome guy' from the performance last night?"
Though Jack seemed harder to approach than she expected, Skye—never one to back down from a challenge—flashed him a disarming smile and continued, "I heard you've subbed at Midtown High. Should I call you teacher?"
"Skye?"
Jack finally straightened up from his slouch and gave the girl a proper look. After a quick glance to confirm her identity, his lips curled into a faint smile.
"You ever think about becoming a superhero?"
Caught off guard, Skye blinked. "What, is this part of the fan club initiation? Some kind of 'cape or no cape' quiz?"
Their playful back-and-forth caught the attention of the other students in line, some of whom began murmuring impatiently. Sensing the growing irritation, Skye glanced behind her apologetically and lowered her voice.
"Oops… Looks like we're holding up the line."
She leaned in close, handed Jack a small slip of paper, and gave a teasing little phone gesture beside her cheek. "Call me later, Kadere~"
Jack chuckled. "Actually, I've got an idea. Just hang out in the waiting area for a bit."
With that, he stood and headed into the back room.
—
Inside the Ghost-Spider Club HQ, Peter and Ned were enthusiastically examining the various Ghost-Spider memorabilia on display—hoods, posters, and even a half-finished replica of her mask.
Jack strode in and clapped his hands. "Hey, you two! Since you just joined, I'm assuming you're pumped to get involved?"
Peter turned with a grin and held up his camera. "You bet! Want me to get some promo shots of the club? Maybe a photo op with someone dressed as Ghost-Spider?"
Jack waved the idea off. "Nah, that's risky. Ghost-Spider only shows up where there's trouble—and you two are definitely not bulletproof."
He threw an arm around each of them. "But I've got the perfect job for you. Low stakes, zero danger."
Moments later, Peter and Ned found themselves seated at the front desk, manning the sign-up booth.
Peter sighed and leaned forward. "Next!"
Ned adjusted his seat. "Name and age, please."
The man standing across from them was none other than Phil Coulson, veteran S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
Coulson blinked.
He hadn't expected this.
As far as he knew, Skye—who S.H.I.E.L.D. had flagged as a person of interest—was attending this school event. He came personally to keep an eye on things. But instead of gaining intel, he was now awkwardly facing two teenagers treating him like a lost parent on PTA night.
Peter frowned. "Sir? Your name?"
Coulson raised an eyebrow. "Coulson. Phil Coulson."
Ned, utterly nonplussed, scribbled it down.
Coulson adjusted his tie and glanced around the club. Something felt off. Was this really just a fan group? His instincts told him there was more going on—maybe something connected to Ghost-Spider herself.
He made a mental note: run background checks on Kadere and the club's members.
—
Elsewhere,
The café was quiet, intimate, and just upscale enough to impress.
Skye glanced around with an appreciative smile. "This place is really nice—close to the school, and yet it feels like a hidden gem."
Jack Kadere sat across from her, seemingly relaxed, the piano music in the background adding a classy undertone to their conversation. Artistic paintings lined the walls, most of them abstract or European-inspired.
Leaning in, Skye lowered her voice with a curious glint in her eye. "Okay, I know it might be rude to the owner—but tell me honestly. Are these paintings real or just fancy decoration?"
Jack barely needed a second to reply. "The one in the bulletproof glass by the corner? That's Morning in Vienna. Genuine."
He casually pointed around the room. "There's also Moonlight in Harlem in the lobby and The Bat behind the front desk—both originals. The rest? High-quality prints. It'd be idiotic to hang more real pieces that close to street-facing windows. Might as well leave the door open for art thieves."
Skye gave a little whistle of admiration. "PhD in Art, huh? You really do have the eye."
She took a small bite of her cherry cake, then gave him a playful smile. "That was impressive—and slightly smug."
Jack smiled and waved toward the pianist, motioning for a softer, more romantic melody. "There's another reason I know the real ones."
Skye tilted her head. "Oh?"
"I own the place."
Her spoon paused mid-air. She blinked. "Wait—you own this café?"
He gave a shrug. "You asked."
"You're ridiculous," she said, grinning. Then, without warning, she scooped up a bit of her cake and gently pushed it into his mouth. "Here. Take your victory prize, art lord."
Jack opened his mouth to respond—but then a sudden, harsh shattering sound cut through the smooth piano notes.
A huge figure crashed through the café's glass entrance, knocked over two tables, and then sprinted back out into the street. The beast of a man had a thick gray exo-suit, a rhinoceros-shaped helmet bolted to his head.
"Spider!! Damn you!" he roared as he vanished back into the street.
Skye jumped to her feet, covering her mouth. "Oh my god! That's... that's the Rhino! Alexi Sytsevich! I've seen him on the news!"
Jack's expression shifted instantly, his eyes narrowing as he walked to the shattered door.
Just then, a system prompt echoed faintly in his mind:
[Alert: Gwen Stacy's nemesis "Green Goblin" (Norman Osborn) detected nearby.]
[Alert: Gwen Stacy's nemesis "Rhino" (Alexi Sytsevich) detected nearby.]
"…Seriously?" Jack muttered.
Looking up, he saw Gwen—suited up as Ghost-Spider—swinging between Manhattan's rooftops, flipping midair with her signature grace. Hot on her tail was Norman Osborn, riding his glider in full Green Goblin armor, pumpkin bombs already prepped.
"I'm guessing our coffee break's over," Jack said flatly.
Skye picked up her purse, her voice tense. "Jack—should we call the police? Or maybe just get out of here? It's not safe—"
"Call the cops?" Jack shook his head. "Even Captain Stacy can't handle this one."