DC: Spider Man

The wind whistled past Peter Parker's ears as he stood on the edge of a rooftop, staring down at the streets of New York below. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. This was it. His first real test.

"Alright, I got this… yeah, I got this…" he muttered to himself, trying to steady his nerves.

The city stretched out before him, a living, breathing thing. Yellow taxi cabs honked at slow pedestrians, business people rushed to their morning jobs, and the distant sound of construction work echoed through the air. This was home. And now, for the first time in his life, he had the power to protect it.

He exhaled sharply, crouching down on the rooftop's edge. His fingers curled, his muscles tensed.

"It's a leap of faith," he whispered.

And then, he jumped.

For a split second, the world slowed around him. He flipped in the air, the skyline twisting in his vision, and for the briefest of moments, fear seized his chest. But before he could hit the pavement below, pure instinct took over. His wrist flicked, and with a soft thwip, a web shot out, catching onto a skyscraper.

The second he felt the tug, his body swung forward.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, his laughter echoing through the city.

He zipped between buildings, his body moving with the rhythm of the city. His swings became smoother with each movement, each arc carrying him higher and higher. He felt invincible.

Peter landed on the side of a building, panting from excitement. He ripped off his mask and grinned to himself.

"That was awesome! And definitely not scary," he said, despite the lingering rush of fear still in his chest.

Then, suddenly, a loud blaring noise caught his attention.

A bank alarm.

His eyes widened as he saw the flashing red lights from a nearby bank. Five masked men were inside, pointing guns at terrified civilians.

"Well," Peter muttered, pulling his mask back on, "time to get to work."

Perched on the side of the bank, Peter quickly scanned the situation. Five guys. Armed. Hostages. Not ideal. He needed to be smart.

Then, he spotted a vent.

"Classic," he muttered before prying it open and crawling inside.

The vents were cramped, but he moved quietly, peering down through the grates. Below, one of the robbers was standing alone near the back. Easy target.

Peter carefully pushed open the vent, whispering, "Please don't be loud."

He shot a web, yanked the guy up into the vent, and webbed him in place before the man could even scream. Peter let out a breath of relief—

"Hey, where's Jerry?" one of the robbers called out.

Peter's eyes widened.

"Shit."

Thinking quickly, he scanned the room. The remaining four robbers were all grouped together. He needed a distraction. Then, he spotted a fire extinguisher.

Bingo.

A second later, a thick cloud of smoke filled the room, causing chaos.

Peter leaped from the vent and landed feet-first on the nearest robber, slamming him into a desk. Before the others could react, he shot two quick webs at the floor and used them to slingshot himself forward, tackling another robber mid-air.

One guy swung at him, but Peter ducked, uppercutting him so hard he flew back. The last guy tried to run, but Peter shot a web, yanked him backward, and slammed him into the unconscious bodies of his friends.

Silence.

Peter straightened, taking a moment to admire his work. "Man, I'm good at this."

He quickly webbed the robbers together and glanced around, spotting a notebook on the counter. Tearing out a page, he scribbled something down and stuck it onto one of the unconscious guys.

"From your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man," he wrote

Then, with one last look at the civilians—who were now staring at him in awe—he gave a two-finger salute and swung out of the bank.

That was just the beginning.

Throughout the day, Peter stopped multiple crimes—muggings, purse snatchings, even a high-speed car chase. Videos of him swinging through the city flooded social media.

One clip showed him catching a falling construction worker mid-air. Another captured him helping an old woman cross the street, even carrying her groceries.

People started calling him something.

The Amazing Spider-Man.

Back at Johnny's Apartment

Peter swung through Johnny's window, landing smoothly on the floor.

Johnny, sitting on the couch, was glued to the news. The screen showed a blurry image of Spider-Man swinging between buildings.

Johnny turned around.

"Dude."

Peter grinned.

"Dude."

Together, they both yelled, "DUUUUDE!" before breaking into laughter.

They did their handshake, and Johnny smirked. "This calls for a celebration."

Peter smirked back. "Hell yeah."

Meanwhile…

Across the city, in a dimly lit office, a man in a tailored white suit sat behind a massive desk, his fingers steepled in thought.

A smaller man entered, nervously adjusting his tie. "Mr. Fisk… you called?"

Wilson Fisk—the Kingpin of New York—slowly turned his chair around, his eyes cold and calculating.

He threw down a newspaper on the desk. The front page read:

"SPIDER-MAN: HERO OR MENACE?"

Below, a grainy image showed Spider-Man swinging through the city.

Fisk's lips curled into a smirk.

"I want him dead."

The man swallowed nervously. "Sir?"

Fisk leaned forward.

"No more heroes in New York. The few that tried before? They're gone. I made sure of it. And I'll do the same to this one. Find out everything you can on Spider-Man."

The man nodded and rushed out of the office.

Fisk turned back to the window, watching the city lights.

"Let's see how amazing you really are, Spider-Man," he muttered.

In a Dark Apartment…

Somewhere else in the city, in a small, unkempt apartment, an old man sat in the dark, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table.

The news played softly in the background, talking about Spider-Man's heroics.

The man leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.

"Huh. Someone else wants to help," he murmured.

He reached down, pushing aside an old rug to reveal a loose floorboard. Pulling it open, he retrieved something hidden beneath—

A black vest. Worn, battle-scarred. A white skull was painted across the front.

He ran his fingers over it, his jaw tightening.

"Maybe we should have a talk, Spider-Man."

He set the vest down, staring at the screen as the image of Spider-Man swinging filled the TV.