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Hawk's answer was immediate. No hesitation.
Gwen was clearly happy with his answer, the sound of her voice became lighter, more cheerful.
A little while later, the new couple finally finished their call, reluctantly hanging up.
It was mostly Gwen who was reluctant to hang up.
Hawk was... well, alright. He was a little reluctant too.
But Hawk understood why, despite having a crush on Gwen since freshman year, he had waited until now to finally acknowledge it.
In a word:
Before, he hadn't been worthy. Now, he was.
Whether it was to keep getting stronger, or just to hold on to the feeling of being worthy, Hawk knew he couldn't afford to get complacent. He had to work even harder than before.
He might be strong now, but if he slacked off, how long would it last?
A year? Two or three?
The curtain on the Marvel Universe had been raised. Hawk didn't just feel a lack of desire to relax, he felt a pressing, urgent need to push forward.
So, after he hung up with Gwen, he began his ten-thousand-punch routine for the day.
At this point, hitting a heavy bag was pointless.
But he wasn't really hitting the bag. He was using the repetitive, meditative motion to quiet his mind, to find a stillness in which he could search for that elusive Sixth Sense—the one he knew was there, but could never seem to grasp.
...
On the rooftop of his apartment building.
The heavy bag, hanging from a clothesline pole, swayed gently with each of Hawk's punches.
Hawk's eyes were unfocused, his mind adrift, feeling as if he were searching for a single grain of rice in an infinite, starless void.
Until—
He heard it. Faint, distant screams.
His focus snapped back to reality. He turned, his eyes automatically locking onto the source of the sound: the Williamsburg Bridge.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Space itself seemed to contract before his eyes. In the blink of an eye, Hawk, standing several miles away, could see the scene unfolding on the Williamsburg Bridge with perfect clarity.
The Williamsburg Bridge, connecting Manhattan and Brooklyn, was a major artery.
Every day, thousands of people crossed it to get to their jobs in the city and back to their homes in the outer boroughs.
Except now, something had gone terribly wrong.
Countless white-collar workers, their cars trapped in a massive traffic jam, were now running for their lives, their screams mixing with the sound of cars being overturned behind them.
And then Hawk saw it.
A massive, hulking creature, covered in grayish-green scales, with the head of a lizard, was leaping from car to car.
As it moved, its long, powerful tail whipped out, grabbing cars and flinging them into the air as if they were toys.
It seemed to be looking for something.
"Is that..."
"The Lizard?"
Hawk's brow furrowed.
And then, another thought hit him.
Well, shit. There goes my letter of recommendation.
NYU might accept a letter of recommendation from a respected scientist like Dr. Connors, but they sure as hell weren't going to accept one from the Lizard.
In the span of a few seconds, the letter of recommendation in his apartment had gone from a priceless asset to a worthless piece of paper.
Not even the stock market crashed that hard.
Soon.
The Lizard, making its grand debut on the bridge, seemed to have found what it was looking for.
Its tail shot out and snatched a man in a business suit from his car.
The middle-aged man, clutching a briefcase that likely contained the serum meant for the military hospital, trembled as the Lizard's cold, green eyes stared him down.
He managed to stammer out a single word.
"You—"
"Aaargh!"
SQUELCH!
Before the man could finish his sentence, the Lizard swiped the briefcase from his hands. With a flick of its tail, it sent the man flying into the bridge's guardrail.
The next second.
A support cable caught the man at the waist, slicing him in two. His bisected body rained blood as it tumbled into the river below.
But just then.
Spider-Man...
No—
The Spider made his grand entrance.
Swinging on a web line, Peter Parker maneuvered his body in mid-air, brought his feet together, and shot forward like a cannonball, slamming into the Lizard just as it was about to turn and leave.
The Lizard staggered from the impact. It regained its footing, turned, and let out a guttural roar at Peter, who was now crouched atop a car, his green tongue lashing through the air.
Peter shot a web, snagging the briefcase.
The Lizard roared with rage and began to hurl cars at him.
The battle between the Spider and the Lizard had begun.
...
Standing on his rooftop, Hawk watched, thoroughly entertained.
But then, he remembered something. He turned back to his heavy bag, his body becoming a blur as a storm of phantom fists rained down upon it.
Thirty seconds later. His ten-thousand punches for the day were complete. He let out a breath, then turned back to the bridge, ready to enjoy the show.
However...
"Where's the Lizard?"
"Where's the Spider?"
"Where did they go?"
Hawk stared at the now-empty bridge, confused.
Then he noticed a disturbance in the water below.
Beneath the surface, a dark shadow was moving with incredible speed.
Peter, swinging through the city in pursuit, finally lost track of the Lizard somewhere near Roosevelt Island.
It was too dark, and the Lizard was simply too fast underwater.
Peter came to a stop on the roof of a skyscraper, shaking his head as he stared at the spot where he'd lost the trail.
Just as he was about to head home, his Spider-Sense tingled. He moved to the edge of the roof.
And saw him.
Standing on the roof of a ten-story building not far away.
Hawk.
He smiled and gave the crouching figure of Spider-Man a little wave.
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