At 15, Peter Parker faces a harsh awakening after the tragic death of his uncle, realizing the weight of the responsibilities that come with his newfound powers. Balancing the challenges of high school, a mysterious new girl, and the shocking transf...
"If those with the means and the power don't fight when necessary. Then what's the point?"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~~~
AS the dust settled, Max found himself on his knees, trembling. His ears rang from the explosion, the world around him spinning as his mind fought to comprehend the chaos he had wrought.
Slowly, his gaze moved across the diner, and his breath caught in his throat.
The once filled to the brim diner of families and couples, was now a graveyard of broken glass, toppled tables, and scattered bodies.
His heart pounded louder than the sirens in the distance. The robber, the man who had threatened them all, lay dead among the others—his body lifeless, mouth twisted in a grotesque final expression.
Max's hands trembled as the faint glow of electricity flickered around him. He had done this.
"What have I done?" The words slipped from his lips in a broken whisper. The diner was quiet now, too quiet. It was a silence that pressed on him, heavy and suffocating.
Max swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat only seemed to grow. The weight of his actions crushed down on him.
His power had spilled out, uncontrolled and wild, and in trying to stop one bad man, he had become something far worse.
He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to save people. That's what Spider-Man had told him—to use his powers for good.
But this? This was destruction. The bodies on the floor were proof of that.
Why? he thought, his mind reeling. Why me? Why do I always ruin everything?
The sirens outside grew louder, snapping him from his spiraling thoughts. He stumbled to his feet, shaking, the horror of his actions weighing on every breath.
Before he could make sense of it all, a figure stepped through the shattered glass entrance.
Captain Stacy, flanked by officers, scanned the scene. His eyes widened as they locked onto Max standing in the wreckage.
The officers raised their weapons in unison, tension crackling in the air as they moved in closer.
"Hey, kid!" Captain Stacy called, cautiously, his gun drawn but lowered. "Are you alright? What the hell happened here?"
Max's chest tightened. His gaze darted around the room—at the blood, the twisted bodies, the lifeless eyes staring up at him. His mind raced. "I... I didn't mean... It wasn't supposed to..." His voice cracked. "I just wanted to help."
Captain Stacy stepped closer, wariness in his eyes. "Did you...do this?"
Max froze. The question hit him like a blow. Did you do this? He had. He had done this. But not on purpose, right? His heart pounded as the officers advanced, their guns all trained on him now.
