❝ cards on the table, mine play out like fools in a fable ❞
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023. the hero and the fool
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐁 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄, thick enough to suffocate. The room was silent save for the hushed whispers between Ingrid and her Peter, interspersed with the occasional murmur from the other two Spider-Men. Their voices, faint and cautious, only emphasized the gravity of the moment.
No one knew for certain what the Green Goblin, Electro, Sandman, or the Lizard were planning. The villains were out there, regrouping, scheming, and undoubtedly preparing for their next strike. But inside the lab, the heroes felt the weight of urgency pressing down on them like an unbearable weight. Time was slipping through their fingers, and failure wasn't an option.
Ingrid stood beside her Peter, her focus trained on the broken pieces they were trying to rebuild. Her hands trembled slightly, a combination of nerves and exhaustion. A dull ache pulsed in her temples, a reminder of how long they'd been at this. But she refused to let it slow her down. Every so often, she glanced at Peter, offering him a small, reassuring smile despite her fatigue.
Then, abruptly, the silence was shattered. Ned’s laptop screen lit up, flooding the dim lab with a soft glow. All conversations halted immediately, and everyone turned toward him.
Ned looked flustered, his gaze darting between them. “Uh, Peter?” he said.
"Yeah?" The three Peters spoke in unison, followed by the sounds of chairs scraping as they stood up. A moment of confusion passed between them before they instinctively pointed at one another. "Oh, sorry. You mean..."
“Peter-Peter!” Ned tried again, throwing his hands up.
"We're all called Peter, Ned."
Ned paused. "Peter... Parker?"
The three Spider-Men exchanged amused glances before replying simultaneously, “We’re all Peter Parker!”
Ned sighed heavily, clearly out of patience. "The computer!"
Before anyone else could react, Ingrid’s Peter darted toward the workstation. His sudden movement startled Ingrid, and she instinctively followed, MJ and Ned close behind.
They crowded around the screen, peering at the diagnostics. Peter leaned in, his eyes scanning the results. Then, as the tension in the room began to lift, Ingrid’s lips curved into a smile.
“It worked,” she whispered, relief flooding her chest.
Her Peter straightened, the weariness in his expression giving way to something warmer — hope. "Oh, I'm ready,” he announced, his voice steady but tinged with anticipation.
