Monday morning in New York was busy the way it always was — office workers streaming toward their days, kids heading to school. The city moved with its usual indifferent rhythm. Along one of those roads, a school bus rolled steadily toward its destination.
"Hey, Jack — are you asleep?"
The voice pulled Jack back to the surface. It was Gwen, sitting beside him.
"Yeah," he said, blinking. "I was up really late last night. Are we almost at Osborn?"
"Almost there," Peter called from the seat behind them.
"See? That's the building," he added, pointing to the large corporate structure coming into view.
"I hope this doesn't end up being boring," MJ said with a flat, half-awake voice.
"That might be a tall order," Jack replied.
Before anyone could say more, the bus slowed to a stop at the entrance. The teacher in charge of the trip was already addressing the group.
"Students, stay together and do not separate. Everyone will need to wear one of these temporary IDs to get through the door."
After the check-in, the group moved through the building while a guide walked them through each project and exhibit, narrating in the practiced, detached tone of someone who had given this tour far too many times.
"This is way more boring than I expected," Jack said, falling into step beside Gwen.
"That was expected, wasn't it?" she replied, scribbling in her notebook without looking up.
"Are you seriously taking notes? I didn't think you were that into academics — I thought music was more your thing."
"Extra credit assignments," she said simply.
Jack let his eyes drift across the group. Peter was a few steps away, framing a shot of MJ with his camera. Thompson's group had quietly peeled away from the tour somewhere along the way. The guide ahead kept moving, indifferent, running through his script like it was a grocery list.
"Students, gather here, please."
The teacher was calling everyone over, and a man was standing near him.
Jack looked up. A man in a white lab coat stood at the front of the next room — older, composed, with only one arm.
"I'm Dr. Curt Connors, Chief Scientist of the Osborn Group."
With that, he launched into his lecture. As the man spoke, Jack quietly filed through what he already knew.
Mentor to Peter Parker. The man who becomes the Lizard. An enemy of Spider-Man, brought down by his own mistakes.
"…cross-species genetics," Connors was saying, gesturing toward a display. "The idea is simple. If one species can do something another cannot — regenerate limbs, for example — why shouldn't we be able to share that ability?"
A few students nodded, though most looked lost.
"Certain reptiles can regrow entire limbs. Perfectly. Bone, muscle, nerve — everything restored. Imagine what that could mean for human medicine."
His one hand lifted slightly, as if letting the gesture make the point he didn't need to say out loud.
"We've been working toward giving humans that same ability. So — any ideas on how to achieve it?"
The room stayed quiet. Most of the students had stopped following several sentences ago.
"What about using a decay rate algorithm?"
The voice came from the back. Every head turned.
Connors turned too.
His eyes settled on Peter — very curious what this high school kid would say.
Peter froze for half a second, then pushed through it.
"I mean — if you're combining genetic material from different species, stability would be the problem, right?"
Connors didn't interrupt.
Peter steadied himself and continued.
"So… instead of forcing a permanent integration, you could map how the foreign DNA breaks down over time. A decay rate. That way, you could control how it bonds — keep it from becoming unstable."
Connors stepped closer.
"Can you elaborate on that?" he said quietly.
Peter took a breath, then repeated it more carefully.
"A cross-species genetic algorithm… with a built-in decay rate. It could regulate the transformation. Keep it from… escalating."
Connors' expression shifted — subtle, but unmistakable.
Genuine interest.
"That's… very good," he said, almost to himself.
He glanced briefly at the monitors nearby, as if running the idea through his own mind. Then back to Peter.
"What's your name?"
"Peter. Peter Parker."
A short pause.
"Parker…" Connors murmured. He handed him a card. "Call me. I see a great future for you."
An assistant appeared at his side, and just like that, he was gone.
"That was something else, Peter," Jack said, grinning.
"Seriously," Gwen agreed, and MJ nodded beside her. "He nailed it."
The tour continued until the group reached the spider exhibit. The guide began explaining the research on display, and Jack let his attention drift — until he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
A small spider, dangling on a thread, drifting as if guided by something, descended quietly toward Peter. It landed on his hand.
"Ouch."
Peter shook his hand, still raising his camera for the next shot. The spider tumbled to the floor.
Jack crouched casually and pretended to tie his shoelace. He scooped the spider up in a handkerchief and stood.
Looks dead, he thought, checking it.
This universe's spider seems to follow the Amazing Spider-Man version — Peter's father used his own DNA in the formula. Anyone bitten who isn't Peter would either die or transform into something far worse, Jack thought, looking at the dead spider.
He tucked it carefully into his pocket.
And since this one's gone… having only bitten Peter, it seems no other Spider-Heroes or Spider-Woman will be born in this universe.
The thought settled quietly as the tour moved on. But then Jack noticed Peter lagging behind — pale, unfocused, clearly not himself.
It seems Peter has started to react to the spider's venom. Jack moved to his side.
"Are you feeling alright, Peter? You look feverish."
"I'm feeling very tired all of a sudden," Peter said.
"Gwen's not doing well either," MJ said suddenly, overhearing Peter.
"What — Gwen too?" Jack turned, surprised, and looked over at her.
"I think it's just a cold," Gwen replied.
"Okay — I'll talk to the teacher. We're heading out," MJ said and headed toward the teacher before Gwen could finish her sentence.
"It's nothing—" But MJ was already gone.
MJ pulled the teacher aside, and within minutes she was back.
"Got permission — let's go. I've been waiting for an excuse to leave," MJ said, already moving away from the area like it was a prison.
The others exchanged glances and followed her out, hailing a taxi.
In the car, Gwen leaned against the window, her temperature visibly high.
Jack noticed and felt a flicker of doubt.
"Did anything bite you, Gwen?"
The question puzzled her. "No — why do you ask?"
"Nothing, I thought I saw some insect on you."
"What? Where?" She started checking her clothes, and Jack examined her carefully, a quiet dread building in the back of his mind —
Until he found it. A spider bite mark on her neck.
Jack's blood ran cold.
Oh no.
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