[Peter returned home, peeled off his Spider-Man suit, and tossed it into the closet, revealing his toned, muscular frame. After slipping into more comfortable clothes, he flopped onto his bed, the events of the night still buzzing in his mind.]
["Jessica Abbott, a New York TV reporter at the scene of the incident, will now bring us this breaking news!" the TV host announced, drawing Peter's attention momentarily.]
[The screen switched to a live broadcast from the chaotic scene. "We have two witnesses here who will describe what they saw during the attack. Can you tell us, how did Spider-Man manage to defeat that monster?" Jessica asked, thrusting the microphone toward them.]
[One witness eagerly chimed in, "Spider-Man's suit must be rubberized! That's how he avoided being electrocuted! Probably some kind of neoprene—yeah, that's what I'd use if it were me!"]
[Peter sighed, shaking his head at the wild speculation. He sat up, grabbed his phone, and stared at a photo of him and Gwen from happier days. The looming reality of Gwen leaving for England gnawed at him. Frustrated, he tossed the phone onto the bed and rubbed his forehead, trying to shake the unease.]
"You must be pretty upset knowing I'm leaving," Gwen's voice echoed in his mind, a memory tinged with bittersweetness.
"No! I won't let you leave me! I'll follow you wherever you go," Peter had replied, his voice filled with determination as they leaned closer to each other, the world around them fading away...
"Alright, enough of that! Gwen, your mom needs your help!" George's gruff voice cut through the memory. He had been standing at the doorway, watching them for who knows how long before finally interrupting.
"Oh! Okay, Dad!" Gwen quickly snapped out of it, realizing her father had been there the whole time. She hurried out, leaving Peter alone with George, who stepped into the room, his expression stern.
Peter noticed George's glare and felt a wave of confusion. He and Gwen had shared plenty of intimate moments before, but George had never looked this upset. Something was different.
"What's with the look?" Peter asked, puzzled by George's unusually harsh demeanor.
"The police station was surrounded by citizens again today," George said bluntly.
"What? Why? Was it because of me?" Peter's eyes widened in shock. It had been a while since the police faced that kind of backlash, and he couldn't understand how he might be involved this time.
"No," George sighed, then explained the full story about the sniper incident. After an emergency meeting, the sniper had been suspended, sent home to reflect while awaiting further investigation.
Luckily, George had escaped any blame, as he had already been deceased in The Screen's narrative during that time—a death considered both honorable and unavoidable. As for the sniper, his superiors couldn't be identified based on voice alone, sparing him from immediate consequences.
[Later, Peter picked up his damaged web shooter from the earlier battle, inspecting it carefully. It didn't take long to identify the issue: the battery had exploded.]
[But fixing it was the last thing on his mind. With a sigh, he tossed it onto the table. Restless, Peter lay back on his bed, slipping on his headphones and blasting music, hoping to drown out his thoughts. But no matter what he did, Gwen's impending departure haunted him every time he closed his eyes.]
[Rolling over, Peter's gaze fell on Richard Parker's old briefcase, tucked away in the closet. Frustrated, he stood up to shut the closet door, but something made him pause. Yanking off his headphones, he grabbed the briefcase and dumped its contents onto the floor.]
[Among the scattered items, he picked up a remote control and examined it briefly before setting it aside. Then he found a crumpled note with just one word: Roosevelt, followed by 2 p.m.]
[Curious, Peter began searching for anything related to "Roosevelt," but came up empty. Determined, he taped a photo of his parents to the wall, then gathered and printed out every bit of information he could find on Richard Parker, adding it to his growing wall of clues.]
[Finally, he tacked up a photo of him and Gwen, scrawling underneath it: Am I going to lose you too? The weight of everything pressed down on him as he leaned his head against the wall, lost in thought. Eventually, he picked up the damaged web shooter and left the room.]
"Peter..." Gwen's voice was soft, filled with concern as they sat across from each other at the dinner table. Whenever Richard Parker's name came up, she couldn't help but worry about how it affected Peter.
"I'm fine, Gwen," Peter said calmly, spearing a piece of steak and popping it into his mouth. He was learning to let go, trusting that The Screen would eventually reveal the answers he sought.
Helen, eager to lighten the mood, chimed in, "How's the steak, Peter?"
"It's great! Really, really delicious!" Peter responded enthusiastically, offering her a grateful smile.
"It really is delicious," George added, his tone softer now.
"I'm glad you like it! Would you like some soup?" Helen offered, her eyes warm with affection.
"Thank you! It's all amazing. I really appreciate it," Peter replied, his gratitude genuine.
Helen Stacy couldn't help but feel satisfied with Peter. In her eyes, he was the perfect future son-in-law—the more she saw him, the more she adored him.
[Meanwhile, a news report blared in the background: "Online polls show a significant surge in public support for Spider-Man. Tonight, it seems all of New York City owes him their gratitude!"]
[Across town, Harry Osborn lounged in his penthouse, absentmindedly fiddling with the mysterious cube Norman had left him. As he toyed with it, his finger brushed against a sensitive spot on his neck, making him wince in pain.]
[Curious, he leaned over the glass table, using the reflective surface to inspect the irritated area. Pressing his fingers harder, he felt a sharp sting shoot through his neck, causing him to yelp in surprise. The cube slipped from his grasp, clattering onto the table.]
[To Harry's astonishment, the cube activated upon impact, projecting a series of holographic files onto the table. Intrigued, he leaned closer, realizing this wasn't just any device—it was a physical key granting access to Oscorp's most classified information.]
[Harry's eyes darted across the floating documents. Clicking on one, he expanded it, revealing a detailed introduction from the system.]
["Next-Generation Military Armor: Enhanced mobility, self-repair capabilities for battlefield damage, integrated neural interface system..."]
[Intrigued, Harry clicked on another file. This time, it was a video of Richard Parker, mid-research on genetically engineered spiders. The screen flickered to life as Richard addressed the camera.]
["Spiders, commonly found in our homes, exhibit cellular structures vastly different from human cells," Richard explained. "Even when severely infected or injured, they possess extraordinary regenerative abilities. By integrating radioactive isotopes into human DNA, we've discovered..."]
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