The Bite of Fate
Peter felt like the entire night had been a complete waste of time. He had expected Flash to be the same brute from high school, and in many ways, he still was. Despite the small signs of change, the fact remained—Peter had been forced into this situation, just like before.
And just like before, he had gone along with it.
But tonight had taken a strange turn.
Forced to drink more than he could handle, Peter had finally snapped. The frustration of years of torment boiled over, and in his drunken haze, he lashed out. He humiliated them—Flash, Liz, Mark, and Jason—spitting out every insult he had bottled up over the years.
For a brief, terrifying moment, Flash had looked ready to knock him out.
But then, something unexpected happened.
"It would be better if you had this much guts when sober, Peter. Grow up already, or life will always beat you down if you keep acting like a pussy."
Peter had been stunned into silence.
Of all the things he had expected Flash to say, that wasn't one of them.
By the time they let him go, after forcing him to drink some water and wash up, Peter felt like absolute garbage. His head pounded, his stomach churned, and every part of him felt disgusting.
Now, alone in the cold streets past 7 P.M., Peter leaned against the wall of an alleyway, trying to catch his breath.
The city was alive as always, people moving past him like ghosts, avoiding him as if they could smell the alcohol clinging to his skin.
He stared at the opposite wall, covered in random graffiti—words, symbols, nonsense.
Anger bubbled inside him.
Anger at Flash.
Anger at himself.
Why was he so weak?
Why couldn't he just stand up to Flash, just once?
If he acted crazy enough, maybe Flash would back off. Maybe he'd finally be free of this cycle. But the logical part of his mind kept reminding him of the harsh reality—Flash wasn't just some schoolyard bully anymore. He was a beast.
Two meters tall. Ninety kilograms. A football champion who also trained in boxing.
Peter, on the other hand, was barely 58 kg, had no fighting experience, and wouldn't even win a match against Liz—let alone Flash.
There was no way to fight him physically.
Unless Peter got a gun.
That thought made him shudder. No. That was too far. He wasn't one of those people.
He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, exhaling deeply.
"God, what do I do now?" Peter muttered to himself. "Should I just go with the flow or try to fight back little by little?"
As if in answer, he suddenly felt a faint tickle on his shoulder.
Something had landed on him.
A spider.
Most people would have immediately cursed and thrown it off in disgust, but Peter was used to dealing with bugs.
Curious, he turned his head slightly and froze.
The spider wasn't normal.
Its body was sleek and black, with faint white markings on its legs. But what stood out most were its eyes—glowing golden eyes that seemed almost… intelligent.
Peter frowned. He had never seen a spider like this before.
It didn't match any species he had studied, and that set off alarm bells in his mind. It had to be some kind of mutant or an experimental specimen.
Slowly, carefully, Peter reached for his pocket handkerchief, planning to capture it.
The spider, however, had other ideas.
Before he could react, it jumped onto his neck and—
BITE.
A sharp pain lanced through his skin, followed by a deep, burning sensation that spread immediately.
Peter's body locked up. His fingers trembled as he brushed the spider away, sending it tumbling to the ground.
Untold terror flooded through him.
'Please tell me it's not poisonous.'
His breaths came fast and shallow. His heart pounded. His vision blurred.
Shakily, he pulled out his phone, his fingers fumbling over the screen as he tried to call for help.
But the dizziness hit him like a truck.
His stomach twisted, his legs gave out, and the last thing Peter saw before the darkness consumed him—
Was the sight of the glowing-eyed spider crawling into the shadows.
Then, everything went black.
Peter Parker had always been a gentle and shy child. He adored his parents more than life itself and did everything he could to make them proud. Obedient, studious, and hardworking—he had never been the type to cause trouble.
But there were times when he wished things were different.
Times when he wished he wasn't poor.
Times when he wished he wasn't weak.
Times when he wished he wasn't pathetic.
His classmates lived lives full of fun and excitement, untouched by the burdens he carried. They didn't have to worry about expenses, about their families struggling to make ends meet.
Peter loved learning, and it was the only thing that made his life bearable. He had thrown himself into his studies, determined to build a better future—not just for himself, but for his family.
Because of him, his aunt and uncle had to work extra shifts, pushing themselves beyond their years just to provide for him.
There were nights when Peter cried himself to sleep, knowing that no matter how much he wanted to help them, he was still just a kid—powerless to change anything.
His aunt and uncle had become his entire world, their love wrapping around him like a protective cocoon, shielding him from the pain of the parents he had long since lost.
But now…
As darkness swallowed him whole, only those feelings remained.
And then—
A world of white.
'Where am I?'
'Am I dreaming?'
The logical part of his mind rejected that idea almost immediately. This wasn't a dream.
Something—or someone—had interfered.
Peter tried to move, but his body remained frozen in place.
Then, in front of him, a massive screen flickered to life.
And what he saw made his breath catch in his throat.
Himself.
But not himself.
An older version of him.
The video played out like a scene from a movie. He watched as his older self went on a research outing to Oscorp Labs—a trip that ended in a single, life-changing moment.
A spider.
A bite.
Powers beyond human comprehension.
Peter's eyes widened as the events unfolded before him.
The other him embraced his new abilities in a way Peter had never imagined. Instead of fear, there was excitement. Instead of hesitation, there was confidence.
He needed money for his family.
So he became Spider-Man.
He entered the wrestling scene, crushing every opponent with ease, his strength and agility far beyond anything the world had ever seen. His fame grew.
But the money? Unfairly low.
And so, when the manager was robbed, he did nothing.
"It's not my responsibility."
That one decision led to the moment Peter would never forget.
The robber who stole from the manager…
Was the same one who later broke into his house.
The same one who took Aunt May hostage.
The same one who, in a moment of panic, shot Uncle Ben.
Peter watched in horror as his older self returned home to see his uncle's lifeless body on the floor, Aunt May screaming, the police sirens wailing in the background.
And then, the warehouse.
Spider-Man's first hunt.
The man who had shattered his life was right there, cowering in the darkness.
When Peter ripped off his mask, expecting to see some monster—he saw instead a pathetic, terrified man.
And in that moment, he realized something.
If he had just stopped the thief that day… none of this would have happened.
"It's not my responsibility."
That excuse had cost him everything.
Peter felt his chest tighten, his throat closing up.
His entire body trembled, his mind screaming at the unfairness of it all.
Then—
A voice.
"With great power comes great responsibility," the voice echoed around Peter, deep and resolute. "It's a good way to live, Peter, or you will regret it later in life. Small incidents can connect to make a worse picture, so it's better to stop them at the roots. If you have power, why not use it for good and enjoy the process?"
Peter's breath hitched as he processed the words, his gaze still locked onto the horrifying scene that had just played out before him. His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of the revelation crushing down on him. His life, his choices—everything had been laid bare in a way that left him shaken to his core.
But then—the world shifted.
The stark white void melted away, giving birth to a completely different reality. Towering trees stretched toward the sky, their massive trunks thicker than any building Peter had ever seen. The forest exuded a sense of peace, a warmth that seeped into his bones despite the storm raging inside him.
And there, in the center of a small clearing, sat a man.
A round wooden table stood before him, two chairs positioned on either side. The man himself was striking—blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and an aura of warmth that felt strangely familiar. He wore an orange shirt and black pants, simple clothing that contrasted sharply with the sheer impossibility of the situation.
Despite everything, Peter felt… calm.
Even as confusion clawed at his mind, even as fear and doubt gnawed at him, this place—this presence—felt oddly safe.
But Peter wasn't one to let his guard down so easily.
His gaze hardened as he took a cautious step forward. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice steadier than he expected. "And what the hell was that?"
His fear had momentarily taken a backseat—because this wasn't just about him. It was about his family.
And when it came to his family, Peter didn't care about limits. He didn't care about rules. If something—or someone—was threatening them, he needed to know.
The man smiled, a look of understanding flashing in his blue eyes. "My name is Naruto Uzumaki," he introduced himself smoothly. "And we're here because my pet spider chose you."
Peter's eyes darted to the small creature perched on the man's hand. The same spider that had bitten him.
"As for that…" Naruto gestured toward the now-vanished screen. "That was your future—if I hadn't interfered."
Peter felt a cold shiver run down his spine.
Naruto leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving Peter's. "I already know you, Peter," he continued, his voice steady yet gentle. "In another world, in another time, we became friends. But in that world, I didn't meet you until you were twenty-one. By then, Uncle Ben was already gone. You'd lost other friends along the way, too."
Peter's hands clenched into fists.
Naruto sighed, his fingers absently stroking the spider on his palm. "It was still better than what could've happened if I wasn't there. Because, Peter… your life? It's a tragedy."
Silence settled between them.
Peter stood frozen, his mind racing.
This man—this stranger—claimed to know him. Claimed to have seen his future. Claimed to have changed everything.
His spider had chosen him.
His father figure was going to die.
His future friends might not make it.
And his entire life was doomed to tragedy.
Peter swallowed hard, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
"Why did you give me this power?" Peter asked, his voice unsteady, a mixture of confusion and wariness lacing his words.
Naruto smiled, but there was a depth in his gaze—a seriousness that made Peter feel like he was standing on the edge of something much greater than himself.
"Relax, Peter," Naruto said. "Your life is finished if you don't have power. You are meant to be Spider-Man, and if you are not Spider-Man, you are a dead man. Remember that your world is filled with monsters and criminals, so it's not actually a safe world. All these people are living in ignorance until the day an incident happens to them and they realize their powerlessness."
Peter's hands clenched into fists. He didn't like hearing that. He had always felt powerless, always known that he was small in a world that didn't care. But hearing it laid out so plainly stung more than he expected.
"Did you not feel the powerlessness when you were losing consciousness?" Naruto continued. "That's how it is. Power—it can be physical, financial, or political—gives you some form of safety and choice. Without it, you're just existing until someone comes along and ruins you."
Peter swallowed hard. He had felt it. That creeping, suffocating feeling of being completely helpless as darkness swallowed him.
"But even financial and political powers have limits in your world," Naruto said, watching him carefully. "Since it has supernatural beings, you need real power to actually live."
Peter looked down, absorbing Naruto's words. He had always wanted to make life better for Uncle Ben and Aunt May. To give them a comfortable life. To prove that he wasn't a burden. But this… this was different. This wasn't just about getting through life. This was about surviving it.
"I already knew who my pets were going to choose," Naruto said, his voice softening. "Because I am friends with all of you guys, and I want you all to have a better life from the start."
Before Peter could respond, Naruto stepped forward and hugged him.
Peter stiffened.
It was warm. Safe. A kind of comfort that reminded him of the rare times Uncle Ben had pulled him into an embrace after a hard day.
"…Why are you doing this for me?" Peter finally asked, his voice quieter. "Even if you say we're friends, isn't this going to take time and effort? For nothing?"
Naruto pulled back slightly, grinning. "Peter, Peter, Peter," he said, shaking his head. "Doing things for a friend isn't for nothing. Do you do things for May and Ben to get something?"
Peter's breath hitched. Of course not.
"That's how it is," Naruto continued. "Your real parents were also heroes who were killed in the line of duty. And you still have a younger sister out there."
Peter's eyes widened. A sister?
Naruto's voice grew firmer. "Your lives will always be in danger, Peter. I'm not forcing you to do anything—but I want you to realize that you should take on the mantle of Spider-Man for the right reasons, from the very start."
Peter's chest tightened.
"Heroism starts with family and friends before it spreads to the neighborhood," Naruto said. "I have given you more power than your other versions, and I want you to use it for good—and for yourself. This is your power now."
As Naruto spoke, something changed.
Memories surged into Peter's mind.
He saw them—his real parents. Their faces became clearer than they had ever been before. He saw their confidence, their strength, their determination to do what was right.
He saw their deaths.
A plane exploding in midair, torn apart by a minion of the Red Skull from Hydra.
And then he saw her—his younger sister, Teresa. A girl attending high school in Washington, completely unaware of his existence.
Peter staggered slightly. It was a flood of information, but… there was no emotional connection.
Not yet.
He had been too young when his parents died. They were just images and facts to him right now.
But even so—he understood what Naruto was trying to say.
The vision of the future hadn't just been about showing him what could happen. It had been about making him understand that he couldn't afford to be selfish. That he couldn't afford to be reckless.
The Peter Parker from that future hadn't truly grasped what it meant to have power.
That Peter had learned too late.
But this Peter—he could be better.
He had to be.
Unless he wanted to live in a bunker for the rest of his life, hiding in fear, he had to become the best Spider-Man that ever lived.
He had to become stronger.
He had to cover all bases.
He could never afford to miss a single thing—because even the smallest mistake could ruin everything.
Peter took a deep breath. His hands stopped shaking. His mind felt clear.
He looked at Naruto—really looked at him.
"…Thanks," Peter said, his voice steady. "Thanks for helping me understand. And… thank you for your help."
Naruto grinned.
Peter hesitated, then asked. "What should I call you?"