"This is incredible!"
After Peter snapped out of that tingling sensation, he jumped up excitedly. "I'm telling you, something's definitely up with Oscorp. Mind if I use your computer?" He sat down at Bennett's desk and fired up the old bulky machine.
"Whirrrr—"
The computer tower groaned to life, its ancient fan wheezing like an asthmatic elephant. The thing was probably older than both of them combined, a relic from the stone age of personal computing that somehow still managed to connect to the internet.
Peter opened a browser and after a few keystrokes, spider images filled the screen. "Look at this—Oscorp's doing extensive spider research, but I guarantee it's not just about silk production or web tensile strength." He scrolled through scientific papers and corporate press releases, his eyes scanning rapidly. "They're talking about genetic enhancement, cross-species genetics, bioengineering applications..."
"You're planning to investigate Oscorp?" Bennett asked, though he already knew the answer. Peter had that look—the same one he got when he fixated on a particularly challenging physics problem or when he'd decided to build something in shop class that was way beyond the curriculum.
"Don't you want to know what the hell happened to us? Whether there might be side effects we haven't discovered yet?" Peter shot back, his voice carrying that edge of obsession that worried Bennett. "We could be ticking time bombs for all we know. What if this mutation progresses? What if we start growing extra limbs or losing our humanity entirely?"
Bennett thought: You mutated because the Spider-Totem chose you for a destiny you don't even understand yet. I mutated because the Omnitrix saved my life from a monumentally stupid decision.
He knew infinitely more than Peter realized. He knew about Norman Osborn's eventual transformation into the Green Goblin, about Dr. Connors' future as the Lizard, about the endless parade of villains that would emerge from Oscorp's reckless experiments. He knew that Peter's investigation would eventually lead him down a path toward becoming Spider-Man, a path paved with good intentions and terrible losses.
But he just shook his head. "Honestly? Not really interested."
"How can you not be interested?" Peter spun around in the chair, staring at his cousin like he'd grown a second head. "Bennett, we're talking about fundamental changes to our biology. This isn't like getting a new haircut—we've been genetically altered by radioactive arachnids!"
"Because I've got bigger concerns right now," Bennett replied calmly. While Oscorp couldn't touch Stark Industries yet, it was still one of New York's biggest corporate players. In a world where money meant power and influence, picking fights with them was asking for trouble on a scale that could destroy their family.
Half of Spider-Man's rogues gallery had ties to Oscorp somehow—the Green Goblin, Dr. Octopus, the Lizard, Venom. Getting on their radar meant painting a target not just on himself, but on Ben and May.
Bennett had zero interest in becoming a superhero, let alone diving headfirst into that particular hornets' nest.
He'd rather figure out how to use these newfound abilities to make life easier for their perpetually struggling family. The Parkers were good people, but good people didn't pay the bills or put food on the table in New York City.
Money—that was what mattered. That was what could actually protect the people he cared about.
The thought made Grey Matter practically vibrate with excitement inside the watch. His enhanced intellect from eating that spider was nothing compared to what Galvan knowledge could accomplish.
A few clever inventions, some patent applications, maybe start his own company... he could call it Parker Industries. Actually, scratch that—terrible associations with that name. Too much potential for confusion with certain future developments.
Parker Industries always reminded Bennett of Norman Osborn's eventual corporate machinations.
"Primus Technologies," he murmured, testing how it sounded. "Yeah, that works better."
"What's Primus Technologies?" Peter asked, not looking away from the screen where he was pulling up another research paper.
"My future company. And Peter? You're gonna work for me someday. Chief Technology Officer, maybe. Or head of R&D if you play your cards right."
"Yeah, sure," Peter said absently, clearly not taking him seriously. He opened another page, and instead of spiders, a blonde man in a lab coat appeared. "Check this out—Dr. Curt Connors, brilliant biologist specializing in cross-species genetics. He used to work with my dad at Oscorp, and he's still there now. Look at his credentials—Harvard PhD, published extensively on regenerative medicine, leading expert on reptilian biology..."
"Think he knows something?" Bennett leaned against the chair, already knowing exactly what Dr. Connors knew and where that knowledge would eventually lead.
Of course he recognized Dr. Lizard when he saw him. The man who would eventually inject himself with lizard DNA in a desperate attempt to regrow his missing arm, only to transform into a monster that would terrorize New York.
"I need to talk to him," Peter said, his eyes lighting up with that dangerous enthusiasm Bennett had learned to recognize. This wasn't just about understanding their new powers—Peter wanted answers about his dead parents, about Richard Parker's work, about why his family had been torn apart. That obsession was going to drive him straight into danger.
Nothing wrong with wanting answers about your parents. The problem was Peter kept forgetting his parents were gone for good, and no amount of investigation would bring them back. He'd already had several heated arguments with Uncle Ben about this fixation, worrying both him and Aunt May that Peter was heading down a self-destructive path.
"Knock yourself out. Count me out though." Bennett had no emotional connection to Peter's biological parents. Ben and May had adopted him first when he was just a kid; Peter's parents had dropped him off later before disappearing on their mysterious work trip that ended in a plane crash.
What mattered was keeping Ben and May safe from the storm that was coming.
Spider-Man might be destined to lose Uncle Ben and keep fighting the good fight, but Bennett refused to let that happen.
He didn't give a damn about destiny or the web of fate or any of that mystical nonsense. If the universe itself showed up demanding Uncle Ben's death as payment for Peter's heroic journey, Bennett would find a way to punch the universe in the face.
"Seriously? You don't want to know what's happening to your body?" Peter stared at him incredulously, gesturing at the computer screen filled with scientific jargon. "This could change everything about our lives. We might become heroes, save people, make a real difference in the world. Or we might become monsters that hurt innocent people. Don't you feel any responsibility to understand what we're capable of?"
"Look, if you figure something out in your research, I trust you won't let your cousin turn into a giant spider freak," Bennett said flatly, reaching over and grabbing Peter's shoulder. With his enhanced strength, lifting the skinny teenager felt like picking up a grocery bag.
"Whoa! What are you—put me down!" Peter flailed his arms and legs as Bennett hoisted him into the air with one hand.
Spider powers didn't peak instantly after the initial bite. They needed time to develop, training to control, practice to master. Peter was still figuring out his enhanced reflexes and proportional spider strength.
Still, hoisting one scrawny teenager who probably weighed less than a bag of cement? Child's play.
"I'm asking you to leave. This is my room, not the local internet café." Bennett carried the protesting Peter to the doorway and deposited him in the hallway like a parent removing a toddler from the cookie jar.
"Bennett, wait—we should be working together on this!" Peter called out as the door swung shut.
"Maybe later, cuz. Right now I've got homework to finish." Bennett turned the lock with a decisive click.
The Omnitrix stayed secret for now.
Not because of Peter—his cousin was trustworthy, if occasionally obsessive. But because organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. had ways of monitoring unusual activity, and the last thing Bennett wanted was Nick Fury showing up at their door asking uncomfortable questions about alien technology.
"Alright, let's see if I can crack these protection protocols." He activated the watch, the familiar weight solid against his wrist. The device hummed to life, holographic interface projecting the alien silhouettes. He spun the dial carefully until it settled on Grey Matter's distinctive profile and pressed down. Green light flooded the room like a miniature aurora.
Seconds later, the transformation completed. Bennett had shrunk to roughly the size of a hamster—gray skin with a slightly amphibian texture, disproportionately massive hands perfect for delicate manipulation, and bulging black eyes with horizontal pupils that could focus on multiple objects simultaneously.
"Whoa... I can feel all this mechanical knowledge just... downloading into my brain!" The sensation was indescribable—like suddenly remembering things he'd never learned, understanding concepts that hadn't existed moments before.
Becoming Grey Matter didn't just supercharge his intellect to superhuman levels—it unlocked vast databases of Galvan scientific knowledge, engineering principles that wouldn't be discovered on Earth for centuries, if ever.
"Can Galvan knowledge actually transfer through DNA inheritance? The implications are staggering!"
Unfortunately, even with dramatically enhanced intelligence, cracking the Omnitrix's security systems remained frustratingly beyond reach. Azmuth had probably anticipated this exact scenario, positioning the device's core components on Grey Matter's back where the transformation's user couldn't physically access them.
Clever, but annoying.
Bennett rubbed his oversized chin thoughtfully, his enhanced mind already working through potential solutions. "Gonna need some kind of precision robotic arm system for this. Maybe a series of micro-manipulators controlled through a neural interface..."
Easier said than done. Grey Matter's brain buzzed with theoretical frameworks and advanced engineering concepts, but they were centuries beyond current Earth technology. He understood the principles behind faster-than-light communication and dimensional transcendence, but lacked the industrial base to manufacture even basic components.
Even Einstein would call this stuff indistinguishable from magic.
"Maybe I should start smaller," he decided, smacking his tiny fist into his palm with a sound like snapping fingers. "Like finishing my damn homework before Aunt May checks on my progress."
Bennett scrambled across the desk where his physics textbook loomed like a billboard advertisement. He grabbed the ballpoint pen—basically a staff at his current size—and squinted at the assigned problems.
"Calculate the minimum magnetic flux density and corresponding sphere velocity in a uniform gravitational field..." He shook his head in amused disbelief, his enhanced intellect making the solution immediately obvious. "Earth kids actually struggle with this elementary stuff? Galvan toddlers could solve relativistic equations in their sleep."
"Pathetically simple."
He began scribbling down answers, the pen awkward but manageable in his oversized hands. Problems that normally required hours of careful calculation and multiple reference books melted away like ice cream on hot pavement—basic arithmetic to his vastly enhanced cognitive abilities.
The homework that had been sitting unfinished for three days disappeared in ten minutes of focused effort.
Bennett set down the pen and faced the computer monitor, which now dominated his field of vision like a drive-in movie screen.
"Now for the real work."
Time to see what Galvan intellect could accomplish with primitive Earth technology.