After class, the three of them headed to practice like usual.
At least, that was the plan.
It fell apart almost immediately.
Peter hit the first note on the drum set — and the sound came out wrong. Too sharp. Too loud. He frowned, adjusted his grip, and tried again.
Across from him, Gwen strummed her guitar.
Snap.
One of the strings broke with a sharp twang.
Everyone froze for a second.
MJ blinked. "Okay… what?"
Gwen stared down at the guitar in her hands, like she wasn't sure how it had just happened. "I didn't even pull that hard."
"Yeah, you did," MJ said, raising an eyebrow. "You definitely did."
"I didn't—" Gwen stopped, then shook her head slightly. "I don't know. Maybe the string was already weak or something."
MJ didn't look convinced.
Peter tapped the drum lightly again, testing the sound. "And what's my excuse, then? I just cracked a drumhead like I'm in a metal band or something."
Jack stood off to the side, arms loosely crossed, watching both of them.
Neither of them met his eyes.
"Alright," MJ said slowly, looking between them. "What's going on with you two today? You're both acting weird."
"Nothing's going on," Gwen said quickly.
"Yeah," Peter added from behind the kit, not looking up. "Just… off day."
MJ stared at them for a second longer.
"Uh-huh," she said. "That's not suspicious at all."
Gwen started packing up her guitar without another word. Peter followed a second later, already putting his sticks away.
"Hey — hold on," MJ said, half-laughing. "We just started."
"Let's just call it for today," Peter said. "We'll try again tomorrow."
"Or when we're not breaking stuff," Gwen added, forcing a small smile.
MJ leaned back against the drum set, arms crossed. "You two are definitely hiding something."
"Relax," Peter said. "It's nothing."
"Yeah," Gwen echoed. "Nothing."
They both glanced at each other as they said it, which didn't help their case at all.
They didn't stay long after that. Within a few minutes, both of them were gone.
MJ watched them go, then looked over at Jack. "You buying that?"
Jack shrugged slightly. "Not really."
"Thought so."
A few minutes later, Jack stepped out as well.
He hadn't made it far when he heard footsteps behind him.
"Jack."
He turned.
Peter caught up, hands in his pockets, posture a little more closed than usual.
"Hey," Jack said. "You heading home?"
"Yeah… but—" Peter hesitated, then rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm probably not coming to training for a few days."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You sick or something?"
"Something like that," Peter said. "Just… not feeling great."
Jack studied him for a second.
"Alright," Jack said finally. "Take the time. No rush."
Peter nodded. "I'll text you when I'm back."
"Sounds good."
Peter gave a small nod and headed off.
Jack watched him go for a moment.
He doesn't want anyone noticing the strength yet. Made sense. Colleen would pick up on it the second she trained with him — taking a few days off was actually the smart move.
Jack turned and headed in the opposite direction.
The dojo was quieter than usual.
Jack stepped inside to find Colleen already moving through a form, her movements sharp and controlled, each strike precise.
He paused near the entrance, glancing around.
Empty.
"No one else today?" he asked.
"They left," Colleen replied without stopping. "Most people don't stick around long." She shifted into the next movement smoothly. "They come in excited, thinking it's going to be easy. Then they realize how much work it actually takes — and they quit."
Jack nodded slightly. Makes sense.
She finished the sequence and looked over at him.
"Where's Peter?"
Jack scratched the back of his neck. Taking a leave now, buddy? Doesn't that make you look just as lazy as the people who quit? He pushed the thought aside.
"He's not feeling well. Taking a few days off."
Colleen held his gaze for a moment, like she wasn't entirely buying that answer.
"Alright. He can come back when he's ready." Then her expression shifted slightly. "Though between the two of you, you miss more sessions than you attend."
Jack gave a small, awkward smile. "Yeah… things have been a bit busy."
"Busy isn't an excuse," she said plainly.
He nodded. "I know. I'll try to be more consistent."
A short pause. Then she nodded once. "Good. Warm up."
Training was harder than usual.
Not physically — but mentally.
Jack pushed through drills, combinations, footwork. Colleen corrected him when needed, adjusted his stance, made him repeat movements until they were clean.
Time passed without him noticing.
By the time he stopped, it was already night.
Colleen stepped back, arms folded lightly as she looked him over.
"You've improved," she said. "Your timing's better. Less hesitation."
Jack exhaled, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Feels like it."
"It shows. Keep it up."
"Thanks."
By the time he left the dojo, the streets were quieter. The air cooler.
Jack didn't head home. Instead, he went straight to the hideout.
"Red Queen," he said as he stepped inside. "Did you finish compiling the gang activity outside New York?"
"Yes, Master," the AI replied immediately. "I cross-referenced encrypted communications, financial records, and movement patterns. Multiple active locations have been identified."
"Good," Jack said, walking toward the workbench.
He glanced at the time. Still a few hours before midnight.
Might as well use it.
He reached for the containment unit holding the spider. The one that bit Peter.
"Let's see what you actually are," he muttered.
The Omnitrix dial shifted.
Katcha.
His body shrank, mind sharpening instantly as Grey Matter took over.
The world changed. Everything felt… clearer. More structured.
He pulled up data, cross-referenced it with Dr. Parker's research, and started running simulations.
Venom composition. Mutation triggers. Genetic interaction.
At first, it looked like it might line up.
Then it didn't.
He adjusted the variables. Ran it again.
Same result.
He leaned closer, scanning through the data faster.
"No… that's not right."
Another run. Another failure.
Hours passed. He didn't notice.
Each calculation led to the same conclusion — something didn't fit.
Finally, he leaned back slightly.
"This makes no logical sense."
He reran the core model from scratch. Removed Dr. Parker's algorithm entirely. Built it again from the ground up.
Still the same.
The numbers didn't match reality. That only meant one thing.
He sat there for a moment, processing it.
"So I was right…"
His voice was quieter now.
"The spider wasn't the source."
It was just a carrier. A trigger.
"The actual power…" he continued slowly, "…came from something else."
Something outside standard science.
The Web of Life and Destiny.
The concept clicked into place. A system beyond biology. Beyond physics. A spider totem — multiversal.
He let out a slow breath.
"So it was never about the venom."
His gaze shifted down to the Omnitrix on his wrist.
"Spider powers were never meant for me."
He let the thought settle for a moment. Then a faint smirk crossed his face.
"And with this…"
He tapped the Omnitrix lightly.
"…why would I need them anyway?"
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