In a narrow alley about two hundred meters away, Ellen's enhanced vision pierced straight through three houses, allowing him to clearly see a large man pushing a young woman deeper into the shadows.
He glanced at his watch. "Fifteen minutes until dinner. Plenty of time." He jumped from his second-story window, two steel plates on the soles of his feet letting him land softly in the yard.
He sprinted toward the scene. When he met obstacles, he simply leaped over them with steady, spring-like steps. This was the controlled "flight" Ellen had mastered after three years of practice—similar to the floating boots used by the Masters of the Mystic Arts.
While not extremely fast, it let him move over any obstacle with ease. Covering a few hundred meters in under a minute, Ellen soon stood at the mouth of the alley.
His Golden Eyes remained active, showing him the robber had already snatched the woman's purse but now, unsatisfied, was leering at her, his intentions clear.
Ellen sighed. Of course it couldn't be that simple.
He had brought a metal baseball bat from home—Uncle George's, to be exact.
Holding the bat, he walked boldly into the alley. In reality, each of his steps landed precisely one centimeter above the ground, making his approach completely silent, like a ghost.
The fading sunset left the alley in deep shadow. The woman could see the alley's entrance, but the robber, with his back to it, could not.
His entire focus was on the terrified woman in front of him. He held a pistol, gesturing with it threateningly.
"If you wanna live, be a good girl," he sneered. "I just got out of prison. Don't make me go back in."
Salivating, he grabbed at her skirt, tearing the fabric.
The woman, fearing the worst, bit her lip, unsure whether to fight or submit. Then she saw a figure at the alley's entrance. Hope flared in her heart, only to be crushed when she saw it was just a child. Her eyes widened, desperately trying to signal him to run, get help, find an adult!
Ellen simply put a finger to his lips—the universal sign for silence.
He crept closer, now just steps behind the large man.
The woman stared in horror and disbelief at the boy's sheer audacity.
The robber finally sensed something was wrong and began to turn.
'Now!'
A solid 'THWUMP' echoed as the metal bat met the back of his bald head.
The man crumpled to the ground without a sound, the pistol clattering from his limp hand.
Finally, the woman dared to stand, clutching her torn skirt, her face flushed with embarrassment.
It was only then that Ellen got a clear look at her face.
'Aunt May?'
A flustered May Parker also recognized him. "L-Leo? What are you... how?"
"I... well, you... Aunt May, why were you...?" Ellen stammered, thrown off balance that the victim was someone he knew.
"Leo, I was on my way to see your Aunt Jenny when that creep started following me. It was awful!" she said, giving the unconscious man a sharp kick for good measure.
The robber groaned, starting to stir.
'THWUMP.'
Ellen knocked him out cold again.
"Aunt May, let's go. This place isn't safe. It's better not to walk around alone at night."
"Y-yes, I think I need to change my clothes," May said, pulling her skirt tight and picking up her purse from the ground before hurriedly following Ellen out of the alley.
As he walked ahead, Ellen twitched his fingers slightly. Back in the alley, the pistol on the ground silently twisted apart into several pieces, its bullets flattened into useless copper discs.
As for the robber? From that day on, Queens had one more homeless man with a permanent lump on his head and a vacant stare.
On the way back, Aunt May asked, "Leo, why were you in that alley?"
"Aunt May, I was just... exploring! Yeah, just exploring. Aunt Jenny mentioned you might stop by tonight. I didn't know you lived so close to us!" Ellen quickly changed the subject.
"Oh, it's... it's a long story. About Peter's parents..." May's expression darkened. "Let's talk about it later."
When they arrived home, Aunt Jenny was surprised but happy to see May and immediately invited her to stay for dinner.
At the table, May shared news that shocked everyone.
"Peter's parents... they were CIA agents. They often left Peter with me, but a few days ago, the CIA sent word... they were killed in the line of duty," May said, her eyes welling up with tears.
"Jenny, I just don't know what to do. My parents are gone, and now my only brother..." May Parker broke down, sobbing into Jenny's shoulder.
George and Ellen were at a loss. May, who had suddenly lost so much, had no one else to turn to. She couldn't burden a six-year-old Peter with this cruel truth. The 26-year-old aunt could only cry in the arms of Jenny, who had always been like a big sister to her at work.
Ellen grew quiet. He finished his food quickly and went back to his room to lie down.
The movies he had seen were just a small part of this vast world. But being here, facing real people and their real pain, he was learning so much more.
This Peter wasn't the one from Tobey Maguire's trilogy, or Andrew Garfield's Amazing Spider-Man.
This was a Peter Parker who might never hear Uncle Ben say, "With great power comes great responsibility."
Yet, Ellen remembered a line from Captain America: Civil War, where this version of Peter said to Tony Stark: "When you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then the bad things happen... they happen because of you."
That sentiment had not only struck a chord with Iron Man but had also resonated deeply within Ellen. It was one of the main reasons he now used his own power to help wherever he could.
Tony and Peter were similar. Unlike many other heroes, both Iron Man and Spider-Man could have chosen ordinary lives.
Before becoming Iron Man, Tony Stark never intended to save the world; he was just a weapons dealer. Peter could also have chosen to hide his powers and live a normal life, or even use them for personal gain.
But they didn't choose to be ordinary. Whether they got their powers by accident or design, they didn't hide. They didn't use them for selfish reasons. They chose to do what a hero should do.
Thinking of the brave boy who would one day, at just fifteen years old, face Thanos himself—one of his all-time favorite heroes—a faint, determined smile touched Ellen's lips.
'Peter, I'll help you grow up. From now on, you won't have to face the enemy alone.'