Marvel & Wattpad's Spender-Man: The First Year

Chapter 1

In the bustling city of Kuala Lumphattan, at Sekolah Menengah Kebangsaan Shah Alam, Khalish Iman found himself in the midst of a lunchtime spectacle. As he sat down to enjoy his meal, Mabrur, the notorious bully of the school, approached him with a devious grin, his beady eyes glinting with malice.

"Good morning, freak!" Mabrur taunted, smearing Khalish's face with his school lunch, a gloating smirk playing on his lips. Laughter erupted from the surrounding students, who eagerly gathered to witness the spectacle, their faces twisted into cruel amusement.

Fueled by frustration and the burning desire to stand up for himself, Khalish's temper flared like a wildfire. He attempted to throw a punch at Mabrur, his clenched fist hurtling through the air with fiery determination. But before he could make contact, Mabrur, displaying a surprising agility, swiftly grabbed him and with astonishing strength slammed him onto the cafeteria table. The resounding thud echoed through the room, capturing the attention of more students who rushed over, their chants of "Fight! Fight! Fight!" growing louder.

Khalish winced as he felt the cool, smooth surface of the table against his back, the force of Mabrur's slam momentarily knocking the breath out of him. Gasping for air, Khalish locked eyes with his adversary, a mixture of anger and determination blazing in his gaze.

Mabrur, seemingly unshaken by the intensity of the situation, leaned closer, his lips curling into a taunting smile. "Is that all you've got, Khalish?" he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension.

Khalish, his pride wounded and adrenaline pumping through his veins, clenched his teeth and pushed himself up, determined not to back down. "You haven't seen anything yet," he growled, his words laced with defiance.

Their exchange of words further fueled the excitement of the gathering crowd. The cafeteria had transformed into a coliseum of sorts, where two students, both driven by pride and the need to prove themselves, were locked in a fierce struggle. The thunderous cheers of their peers served as the backdrop to their confrontation, drowning out any rational thoughts and escalating their brawl to a fevered pitch.

Witnessing his friend's distress and struggling to push through the chaos, Danial Adi Pratama, or Danil as he was known to everyone, came charging to Khalish's aid. With unwavering determination, he pulled Khalish away from Mabrur's clutches, his voice commanding authority over the chaotic scene. The two friends retreated to a quiet corridor, away from the prying eyes and the deafening jeers of their classmates.

As they caught their breath, Khalish, nursing his wounds, turned to Danil and poured out his frustration, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and helplessness. "Why does Mabrur always have to target me? I'm so tired of this."

Danil, always the loyal friend, placed a reassuring hand on Khalish's shoulder and looked him in the eye, his own eyes filled with a quiet determination. "Don't let him get to you, Khalish. You're better than him. We'll find a way to deal with him," he said, his words carrying the weight of a promise to stand by Khalish's side through thick and thin.

Despite the myriad challenges that Khalish faced throughout his academic journey, a remarkable hidden talent had nestled itself within him like a well-guarded secret — his innate ability to capture the world through the lens of a camera. He held the unofficial title of the school's designated photographer, weaving stories through the snapshots he skillfully captured, whether they depicted mundane moments or profound instances of life's fleeting beauty. However, what remained truly clandestine in Khalish's photographic repertoire was his penchant for covertly focusing his lens on one particular subject, his heart's silent desire, the enigmatic Makayla Ayu, affectionately known as MK.

In the sanctuary of shadows cast by his lens, Khalish meticulously documented MK's every gesture, each immersion in her studies, and the myriad expressions that danced across her countenance like ethereal mirages. He watched her from a distance, ensnared by her intellect, kindness, and a smile that could eclipse the radiance of the sun and cast its warmth upon his soul. But despite the depths of his admiration, Khalish found himself perpetually ensnared within the tendrils of shyness, an impassable chasm that deterred him from approaching her. To make matters more daunting, Mabrur, a perpetual presence, seemed to hover nearby like a guardian or, more aptly, a sentinel of unspoken love.