Date: Monday, September 13, 2010.

  Loidtown High, Queens, New York

  The Monday m sun heralded the start of a new school week as Tyson made his way to chemistry css. He thought about how his weekend had progressed.

  Saturday m he’d made a trip to the pet store for a terrarium and plenty of crickets and mealworms for his new pet spider.

  Tyson had fought the desire to prod the spider to bite him. He knew how deadly his touch was.

  Instead, he had tested the viability by walking outside of the Four Seasons, and grabbed one of the many pigeons l around the street… barehanded. By the time Tyson raised the captured bird to his face to i it.

  It died.

  He looked himself over quickly. hers, wings, or beak. He didn’t experience a rush of memories. He wasn’t overe with the feeling of using his wings to fly, or sge from the streets, or shit on random pedestrians. Actually, acc to Tyson’s memories, Victor Creed had dohat a few times. But Tyson gained nothing from the bird. He just killed it. Pretty mustantly.

  As much as he coveted the abilities of Spider-Man, he had no desire to harm the spider. Especially since he had it safely tained. Besides, Tyson strongly believed his healing factor would prevent whatever process Peter went through to gain his abilities. He'd o find some way to harvest spider venom. Then find a way to temporarily suppress his healing factor or his mutant powers pletely. Both were things he would o look into. Not just to acquire spider powers, but because it represented a massive vulnerability for Tyson. If his mutant abilities were suppressed he wouldn’t have any way to defend himself.

  In his disappoi at not being able to gain the powers of Spider-Mauro his studies. So, for oyson repared for css. Chemistry wouldn’t be the new physics. Even after spending several hours at the dojo with Colleen on Sunday, he was well ahead of his coursework.

  Tysoled into his seat iry, sing the room. His gaze paused on ay chair. He hadn’t noticed dy Moon before she was bitten by the same spider that bit Peter. But since she came to his attention, she was on his mind frequently. Tyson knew very little about her. Seeing her being bitten and learning her name had sparked his memory, but Tyson hadn’t been an expert when it came to the ics. He didn’t recall much more than she existed and ider person. And now, seeing she was absent, Tyson's miered the implications. Like Peter, she must have transitioned.

  As the css progressed, despite his lingering thoughts, Tyson demonstrated an ued grasp of the day's topic, drawing a surprised lowen. After css, she eo him in the hallway. "Tyson, I have to say, I'm impressed with how you stepped up in css," Gwen remarked genuinely.

  Tyson smiled slightly, but remained modest, "Well, after meeting Dr. ors with you aer, I realized I was the only one in the room who was pletely lost." he admitted with a chuckle, "I'm no genius, but I figured if I put in the work, I should be able to pull off an A."

  Gwen's smile wide Tyson’s pliment, "That's the spirit," she enced. "But, for the record, you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You went from struggling to being one of the better students in like a week."

  Tyson appreciated Gwen's siy. They chatted a bit more before parting ways for their csses.

  — Rogue Rept —

  As Tyson stepped into the gym for PE, he couldn't suppress a small, anticipatrin. It wasn't the prospect of gym css itself that had him looking forward to this period. It was the knowledge that he'd again cross paths with his teacher, Natasha... or ‘Natalie’ as she was known here. There was a dangerous allure about her, sidering his knowledge about who and what she was, hidden behind the facade of a PE teacher.

  Natalie again stood at the ter of the gym. Today, she'd fohe standard athletic wear for an outfit that was somehow even more striking. A pair of snug, athletic shorts that highlighted the toned, powerful lines of her legs, and an A-shirt. The nee dipped just enough to bare cleavage, regardless of her sports bra. Again, her hair ulled ba a practical ponytail with a few stray wisps framing her face.

  The students gathered around her, as she snatched up a basketball from the raearby and addressed the css.

  "Today, we're switg gears. Basketball," she announced, her voice carrying an assertive edge that dematention. "I'll be dividing you into teams, and I want to see good sportsmanship and effort from everyone."

  As she began dividing the students, assigning them to different sides of the court, Tyson couldn't help but get nostalgic. He was reminded of the frontation on the basketball court at the Xavier Institute with Illyana. He couldn't help but smile. Here he was, ready to dive into yet another simple game of basketball, and again surrounded by extraordinary circumstahis time, instead of a utants, it was his instructor Natalie, the Bck Widow in disguise, and the potentially newly superpowered Peter Parker h nearby.

  Tyson caught Natalie’s eye briefly, and for a fleeting sed, he thought he saw the er of her mouth twitch upward. But as quick as it appeared, it was gone, repced by the stern, focused expression of a teacher ready to begin css.

  Tyson positioned himself at ter court, his formidable height casting a long shadow across the polished floor. Opposite him, Fsh Thompson squared his shoulders, a challenging glint in his eyes. This was a test of athleticism, sure, but uhe surface, it was also a csh for social dominance.

  "Have fun," Natalie enced with a smile. Her tone was light, yet somehow suggestive. As she bent to unch the basketball up for the jump ball, her shirt stretched taut against her form, Tyson an undeniable view of her cleavage. The sight momentarily hijacked his focus from the start of the game. Her allure otent distra, and he could se wasirely i. Her movement was eye-catg, and while he appreciated the view, the closeness of her st was just as alluring.

  Introspectiveook over Tyson’s world, like a frozen moment in time. He wondered if his thoughts were his own, or was he being affected by Sabertooth? Was it the allure of Natasha Romanoff that had his senses so heightened? Or could it be the danger she presehe prospect of dominating an athletipetition alone wouldn’t cause such a drive in his thoughts. Regardless of the source, Tyson was feeling far mgressive than usual, and he fought to push down his instincts.

  With a flex of his muscles, borne from superhuman strength, Tyson leaped for the ball as Natalie's ha it flying. He soared upwards, his fiips brushing the sphere first, sending the ball toward his teammate.

  What followed wasn't just a dispy of basketball proficy; it ectacle, a one-man show of near-superhuman prowess. Tyson moved across the court like a force of nature. He'd make a pass without even looking, seemingly aware of the pyer’s position through some preternatural sense.

  "Man, you seeing this?" one of the students gasped from the sidelines. "Unreal!" another echoed, as Tyson crossed Fsh. He looked down oeen bully as Fsh stumbled backward, falling on his ass. Tyson then uhe ball from the three-point li arced through the air, a perfect trajectory, and swished through the without so much as grazing the rim.

  But it wasn't just his offeyson's defense was imperable. When the opposing team managed possession, they found any path to their hoop thwarted by his intimidating form. At one point, a pyer from the opposing team saening and drove toward the basket. The pyer lept, arm outstretched, the ball in his palm... only for Tyson to appear as if from nowhere, his haing the ball in a resounding sp. The block was so forceful that the ball rocketed off the court. The students gawked, while Fsh's frustration was evident in his ched fists.

  The loose ball rolled and rolled, finally losing momentum he bleachers, where it nudged against a familiar pair of sneakers. There, slightly apart from the excitement, stood Peter Parker. His eyes sparkled with a quiet amusement as he stooped to retrieve the ball. The energy in the gym shifted palpably as Peter picked up the basketball that had rolled his way. With a hint of surprise that he quickly masked, Peter noticed that his fingers seemed to adhere to the ball’s surface.

  "Hey, Parker! Give it here!" Fsh demanded, strutting towards Peter with an outstretched hand, expeg the nerd’s pliance.

  Peter looked at the ball, then at Fsh, a spark of defiance igniting in his eyes. He held out the ball as if to return it, but when Fsh tried to snatch it, Peter quickly moved his hand leaving Fsh swiping at the air. This repeated several times before Peter allowed Fsh to grab the ball. But surprisingly, inexplicably, it wouldn’t move. A ripple of fusion spread through the onlookers.

  "What the—?" Fsh grumbled, grabbing again. But the ball might as well have been glued to Peter's hand. It was a bizarre tug-of-war, with the ball remaining stubbornly stationary despite Fsh's increasingly aggressive tugs. The spectators' fusion turo amusement. Whispers and chuckles bubbled up from the crowd, and even a few snorts of ughter echoed in the gym. Fsh's face reddened, his ego bruised uhe weight of ued ridicule.

  Peter, meanwhile, seemed to grow more assured with each passing sed. Catg everyone off guard, he yahe ball away, sending Fsh stumbling. Theer moved across the court dribbling the ball with an almost surreal ease. His cssmates watched, mesmerized by the shy, unathletic Peter Parker's transformation. Fsh, recovered and charged at Peter, determiain his dignity. But Peter seemed to be pying at another level. With a surprising burst of speed, Peter closed in on the hoop. With a leap that defied belief, he soared through the air, arm outstretched and ball in hand. The entire gym seemed to hold its breath. He smmed the ball into the basket with a resounding echo, hanging from the rim for a split sed before dropping down to the court. The gym erupted in cheers and gasps of disbelief.

  Fsh was left standing there dumbfounded as Peter, the same boy who once faded into the background, basked in the cheers of his stunned cssmates.

  The shrill sound of Natalie's whistle pierced the cheers, immediately anch everyone's attention to her. "Impressive, Peter," she ended with a nod before her gaze swept over the excited students. "How about we up the stakes? A little one-on-one. Parker versus... Tyson."

  The annou was like a spark to kindling, the students' excitement bursting into a wild fme of cheers and whoops. They'd all withe incredible feats both boys were capable of, and the prospect of them fag off was irresistible.

  The sly smile on Natasha’s lips barely betrayed her anticipation as she added, "Let’s make it iing. Whoever wis an A for the semester." She expihe rules suctly, her eyes glinting. "First to seven points wins. One point for field goals, two for three-pointers. Win by 2. And I'll be calling the fouls."

  The game enced with an iy that had everyone on edge. Tyson moved and looked like a basketball pyer. Peter, however undersized, had a wild agility that was both erratid spectacur. He was learning his new limits, testing them with every pivot, jump, and dash.

  Tyson scored the first point, but Peter responded by weaving through Tyson’s defense and seg a point. Each dribble, and intuitive rea, was a subtle showcase of their extraordinary capabilities. It was an iing experience for Tyson, being so much rger thaer, but realizing that he couldn’t back the smaller teen down in the post. While Tyson weighed more, he could feel Peter was far strohan himself. Peter was also quicker. Tyson had to rely on his experiend knowledge of basketball to match Peter’s outstanding physical ability.

  The score tied at five-all. The students were a mix of loud cheers and held breaths, the tension almost tangible. Peter made a daring leap for a dunk, but Tysoed the move. Peter, despite his enhanced physical abilities, hadn’t been much of a shooter throughout their match. Tyson had positioned himself to block Peter’s attempt. Tyson’s hand was wedged between the ball and the rim, a se that might have beeating to another pyer, but thanks to Tyson’s adamantium bones, only required a moment’s recovery. The ball ricocheted off to the side, and both sprang after it.

  In a dispy of dexterity that had the croing, Peter mao snag the ball mid-air just before it went out of bounds. And, with acrobatiesse, Peter spun 180 degrees and u toward the basket from behind the three-point line. But Tyson was close, he’d pursued the ball to the out-of-bounds line just as Peter had. Tyson had the opportunity to block the off-bance shot but refraiime slowed as the ball arced through the air. It bounced off the opposite side of the rim, high into the air. And fell, swooshing through the .

  The gym erupted iion, the students' voices melding into a thunderous roar. Peter was the victor and several kids crowded around him, praising his shot. But as he and Tyson locked eyes, the mutual respect between them was evident. They bumped fists, oer was free of his celebrating cssmates. Natalie, meanwhile, observed with a keen eye, mentally noting every dispy of reflexes, strength, and agility. Her mind was abuzz with calcutions, evaluations, and the implications of what she'd witnessed.

  The gym's ambient noise dwindled as students spilled out toward lunatasha's hand tapped Tyson's arm gently but firmly. "A moment of your time, Tyson?"

  He nodded and the world narrowed to the two of them in the vag gym. The rhythmic squeak of Natasha's shoes on the polished floor echoed in the now-silent gymnasium as she led him into the PE offibsp; The door's soft click as it closed seemed to cut them off from the remainder of the school. Ihe offiatasha transformed. Her fingers worked deftly, untying the ponytail, and releasing fiery waves that spilled about her shoulders. She leaned forward in a slow, deliberate motion. The fabric of her shirt stretched tight, emphasizing the generous curve of her chest.

  "Tyson," she drawled, "I was w… that was an impressive dispy you put on, likewise for mister Parker. But in that st py, you could've blocked his shot but didn't. Why?"

  Her words hung in the air. Tysoe the rush from being alone and close to her, sensed more behind her hoone. His thoughts raced. Had they gooo far in showg their abilities? Would her attention shift to Peter? He couldn't risk that. Tyson knew SHIELD was onto him, there was no ging that at this point, but he could still keep Peter uheir radar.

  " you keep a secret, Miss Rushman?" Tyson asked. Natalie leaned closer, exposing more of her cleavage as she enced him to tinue speaking. Tyson admitted, "I could've beateer."

  Tyson stared deep into Natalie’s eyes. Her beautiful gree his entrang green-blue. “Don’t pay any mind to Peter’s abilities on the court today. I put on the real show.” Tyson rexed a little, “I held back a lot because Peter he win more than I did.”

  Natalie shook her head before refog, “Actually, Parker is he top of the css. Why would he he A more than you?”

  Tyson shook his head, “Not that. The attention of his peers, the cheering, the reitioer hat more than I did. The grades aren't important to me. I don't have to worry about school or finding a job when I graduate.”

  I flickered in her eyes, her smile a secret. "Oh?" She shifted, one leg crossing over the other, the movement was undeniably staged. Her shorts rode up slightly with the motion, exposing more of her tohighs. “And why is that?”

  Tyson hid his smirk. He'd successfully pulled her attention baself. He shrugged, “I’m a trust fund kid.”

  Natalie parroted Tyson's words, “Trust fund… Is that so?”

  Tyson tinued, “Yup. Don't o worry about an after-school job or anything like that. It frees up my time to get plenty of exercise.”

  "And what kind of exercise might that be?" Natalie asked as she leaned ba her chair. She leaned backward, arms overhead as she stretched.

  His eyes followed the movement before snapping back up. "Martial arts," Tyson fessed. A sense of pying with fire licked at the edges of his sciousness. "Every day."

  "Martial arts?" Her words were an inviting, inquisitive purr. "Where might you be taking these csses?"

  "Chikara Dojo in atown," he said, now acutely aware of every minute shift in her posture, the way her shoulders rolled subtly, the rise and fall of her chest with each breath.

  "Chikara Dojo," she repeated, sav the words. Her lips curled into a smile, her eyes held a glint of something unreadable within. "Perhaps I'll stop by... I could use a good lesson."

  But then, as quickly as her demeanor had softened, she was all business again. "You're free to go, Tyson. I'm sure you're hungry after all that work on the court. Enjoy your lunch."

  The door seemed heavier as he exited. Behind him, he left a woman with motives hiddeh yers of allure and strategic deception. But Tyson smiled, he had pulled off a strategic deception of his own.

  — Rogue Rept —

  Laughter, heated debates, and cttering trays blended in the noisy chaos. The ambianidtown High's cafeteria enveloped Peter as he shuffled through the crowd, lost in thought. Still dazed from the impossible physical feats in gym css earlier, Peter felt off-bance, as if he'd been forced into a role he wasn’t aware he tried out for.

  Sitting alo ay table, Peter picked at his food, his rag thoughts killing his appetite. But then, his whole body buzzed with an odd, unfamiliar energy he couldn't expin. From the er of his eye, he noticed Mary Jason approag with her lunch tray. For Peter, everything slowed down when he saw her. Suddenly, disaster struck. A student bumped into MJ, sending her sliding dangerously across the freshly mopped floor. Her tray flew upwards, ung her fruit cup, soda , and other items into the air like astronauts in zero gravity.

  In the heartbeat that followed, the world that always slowed when MJ was around, now ground to a near standstill. Students nearby were frozen in surprise at her fall...everyone except Peter.

  He moved with impossible speed, his body reag instinctively. One hand shot out to catch MJ, stopping her fall. His other hand dahrough the air with lightning reflexes, catg the runaway tray upright, then moving to catch all its tents, ly stag them again. All this happened in a fra of a sed.

  The world snapped back to normal speed. MJ, held steadily by Peter's arm, looked at him in awe. "Wow, Peter, that was...amazing," MJ stammered, blushing as she gazed at him with wide, w eyes.

  Equally amazed by his own reflexes, Peter managed a sheepish smile, trying to seem casual. "Uh, yeah, I guess..." he said, voice crag under her scrutiny. At that moment, it felt like they were the only two people around. Peter had always longed for MJ to truly see him. Held almost intimately in his arms, her smile was meant just for him a butterflies through his stomach. He didn't fully uand these new abilities he was maing, but in that singur, extraordinary moment, Peter Parker felt like everything was gettier.

  MJ made it safely to her table, but Peter's mind lingered on their shared moment. Lost in distra, he went to grab his milk carton.

  That's when it happened.

  Without warning, a streak of white shot from his wrist. Was that...a web? It happened so fast. The strarand attached itself to a tray several tables aeter jerked it reflexively with surprising force. The tug sent the tray flying through the air until it collided spectacurly with Fsh Thompson, who sat mid-versation halfway across the lun.

  Lunch exploded across Fsh, dripping from the table and his clothes. The cafeteria's chatter ground to a shocked halt, all eyes swiveliween the messy se, the rope, and trailing it from the tray back to its source. Peter Parker.

  fusion swirled with pani Peter's gut. This was bad. Fsh's friends were already rising, i clear on their faces. But Fsh's gre chilled Peter most. No fusion there, only anger and a promise of payback. Peter's mind raced. He hadn't meant to do that, hadn't even known he could. He couldn't expin the web, why it had fired. His heart pounded urgently, screaming at him to run.

  But fleeing would make it worse. Swallowing hard, feeling the weight of dozens of eyes, Peter stood. He couldn't trust his voice. He wouldn't be Fsh's victim again, not with everyog. So he walked away uhat intense scrutiny. It wasn't ce nor fear solely guiding him, it was also an overwhelming urge to get away, to think, to uand what was happening to him.

  Behind him, the cafeteria remained hushed, his exit doing nothing to break the spell. He left his uen food, the questions, and Fsh's furious gaze behind. The lun doors swung shut with an ominous echo. Now outside, Peter jerked to a stop, as his arm pulled babsp;

  The web was still attached to the tray inside. With effort, he released it and tinued away from the se.

  Tyson was te getting to Midtown High's crowded cafeteria. His versation with 'Natalie Rushman' had deyed his arrival to lunch. Sing the room, he spotted Peter alo a table. Deade, he headed for the lunch line. He internally groa the thought of more of the school's food. Mentally kig himself for not starting t his own lunch from the hotel, or pig something up on the way to school. Yet here he was again. Before Tyson could even grab a tray, an unnatural silence suddenly fell over the room.

  A quiet that abrupt only happened when something ued seized a group's attention pletely. Tyson's head snapped up searg for the source.

  Peter's table was empty except for an untouched tray. But it wasn't Peter's sudde that had silehe room. It was likely caused by the cafeteria tray sliding across the floor as if pulled. Not by a rope, but by what Tysnized as a web.

  His eyes widehe tray was tethered to a strand of web leading somewhere outside the cafeteria, presumably attached to Peter based on the shocked faces around him, and Fsh Thompson who was following the tray covered in the remains of someone’s lunbsp;

  Excitement bubbled within Tyson. This was it. Time to view another iient.

  Murmurs swelled as the cafeteria’s shocked silence wore off. Tyson heard specution, fusion, and iable jokes. Grabbing a sandwich, for afterward, he hurried for the door. He heard Fsh Thompson's annoyed, cocky voice rise above the others as he stormed after Peter. Students followed, hyping the impending fight. Tyson slipped through the doors in the crowd, not wanting to miss the show. The cafeteria's tension spilled into the hall, students flowing out in its wake, eager to see the brewing flifold.

  Peter stopped but didn't turn, seingling in warning. A buzzing at the back of his mind escaped to run along his skin. Then, without thought, he sidestepped a vicious punch aimed at his head. It was like time slowed, lettier take in each stark detail.

  Fsh's fist sailed toward his fa a clear trajectory. Peter stepped aside, focused on the punch. He had time to gween Fsh and his hand several times before momentum carried Fsh past him.

  MJ stepped in front of Fsh, brows knitted in . "Stop it, Fsh! He didn't mean it. Leave him alone," she pleaded.

  But Fsh was beyond reason.

  Nearby, Tyson watched with folded arms. His stance remained calm even as Gwen anxiously tugged his sleeve. "Tyson, you have to stop this! Remember the first day? Fsh will pulverize him," she urged, voice tinged with panic. “You 't leave Peter alone against Fsh.”

  "He's not aloyson replied softly, eyes never leavier. "I'll step in if it gets bad. But it won't," he whispered, as muself as Gwen. "He's got this."

  Gwen looked at him like he was crazy. "How you say that?"

  "Just watch," was all Tyson said. The firm finality of his tone indicated he wouldn't budge.

  As Fsh swung a heavy fist, time slowed for Peter. His senses dialed up, perception shifting. The punch came in a zy arc, reflexes so heightened Fsh seemed to move through mosses. With agile grace that astounded all, even Tysoer dodged the blow with a dance-like step. Fsh's momentum made him stumble, unbanced.

  As one of Fsh's friends tried cirg to ambush Peter from behind, Peter's heightened senses detected the motion. In a move that made the cro, Peter effortlessly leaped over the sneaky attacker, flipping midair and nding lightly on his feet. Now fag both would-be assaints.

  The ambusher raised his hands and stepped back. "He's all yours," he said to Fsh as he retreated.

  Fsh's frustration boiled over and he charged again. The bully’s face reddened with embarrassment and rage as he swung wildly. Peter artfully dodged each punch, seeming to predict Fsh's moves before he even made them. Tyson notiot just the dodging, but the growing fiden Peter's stahe dawning realization in the boy’s eyes that he was more thahought; more than a nerdy, invisible kid. He was somebody. He owerful.

  Increasingly frustrated, Fsh pulled back for a mighty haymaker, eling all his weight a-up fury. Peter's senses buzzed in warning and he caught Fsh's fist, stopping it cold. The audible ch of Fsh's knuckles made him howl in pain and shock.

  Then in a move no oicipated, Peter struck. A single, precise punch, backed by newfound power. The blow sent Fsh flying back to skid across the floor and stop at the spectators' feet. A stunned silenveloped the hall. Peter looked at his hands with an expression of awe and a flicker of fear at his newfound strength.

  "See?" Tyson said to Gwen, aking his eyes off Peter, who looked around as if awakening from a trayson pushed off the wall, face slowly nodding in approval. This was a defining moment of self-discovery for Peter.

  The fight's aftermath left students murmuring. Fsh was just regaining his footing when a pierg whistle sliced through the crowd. Students parted as Natalie Rushman strode into the circle. Her expression revealed she was unamused.

  "Round's over, boys," Natalie announced sharply, the whistle dangling around her neck. "Everyone back to lunch or css. Parker, Thompson," her gaze flicked betweewo panting from the scuffle, "yoing to the principal's office." As she turo leave, one finger extended directly at Tyson. "You too, Smith. Principal's office."

  Tyson scoffed, arms opening in disbelief. "Me? I didn't do anything."

  "Principal's office," Natalie repeated br nument.

  Tyson shrugged, chug as he fell in behier and Fsh. Just loud enough for Natalie to hear, he mumbled, "What's he gonna do? Call my mom?"

  "Maybe," Natalie retorted smoothly.

  "Nah, I'm emancipated," Tyson replied, nontly.

  They walked in an uneasy procession. While Fsh aer trudged ahead, heads bowed dreading the reprimand, Natalie sidled closer to Tyson. "Why didn't you break up the fight?" she asked.

  Tyson rolled his eyes. "Not my job," he replied, then shot her a cheeky gnce. "Why didn't you?"

  A slight smirk tugged Natalie's lips, aowledging the point though she didn't respond. They tinued in silehe distao the principal's office shrinking with each relut step.

  The principal was a stern man with gsses teetering on the end of his nose. He eyed them over steepled fingers. Peter and Fsh's story tumbled out in fragments with both talking over the other until the principal raised a hand, sileng them.

  "And you, Mr. Smith?" He peered at Tyson. "What's your role in all this?"

  "Just an i bystander," Tyson quipped. He sat casually in the chair, his long legs stretched out. "For the record, Peter didn't mean to provoke Fsh. He didn't eve a ce to apologize before Fsh attacked.” Tyson poi Fsh acgly, “He was butt-hurt after getting shown up on the basketball court earlier.” Tyson tinued after the insult, “Fsh threw the first punch. Well, the first twenty punches. Peter just shoved him ba self-defense."

  The principal sighed, ping the bridge of his nose. "You all know fighting is against school rules. Detention for you two.” He gestured to Fsh aer. Turning to Tyson the principal said, “Aion for you as well Mr. Smith. I want you to think about the influence you have and your role in this school unity."

  Tysohe man's gaze for a moment, “I’ve only been here a week.” But Tysoed, "Fine, detention it is."

  Peter fidgeted nervously with the straps on his backpack during the exge. Fsh just stared sullenly at the floor. The principal dismissed them with instrus to report to detention that afternoon. As the trio left the office, Tyson cpped Peter on the back. "Don't sweat it, Pete. Could've been worse. At least you won the fight."

  — Rogue Rept —

  The school day waned, shadows stretg longer in the halls as Tysoered the nondescript for detention. He picked a seat and pulled out homework, deg to use the time productively since he'd be te to the dojo. Not long after, Peter shuffled in, posture subdued. "Thanks for having my back with the principal," he murmured, taking the seat beside Tyson.

  "No big deal," Tyson responded with a casual shrug. He looked up from his textbook and asked, "Got any pns after this?"

  "Just heading home. I o figure some things out." Peter admitted.

  Tyson nodded uandably, not pushing. A fortable siletled between them, only to be disrupted when Fsh barged in. The jock’s pints about missing practice filled the room. His whining fell on deaf ears as her Tyson nor Peter dig with a response.

  Miicked by monotonously until the door swung open and Natalie appeared. "Tyson, you're ing with me. We’re going to the weight room."

  Fsh's head snapped up indignantly. "He gets to go to the weight room while I miss practice? How's that fair?"

  Natalie's lips twitched in a smirk. "Tyson didn’t throuoday. But he’ll be ing the weight room for his detention assig. Would you like to join him, Thompson?"

  Fsh grumbled under his breath, sinking lower in his seat as he sullenly shook his head. Tyson closed his textbook and gathered his things. As he stood, he met Peter's gaze and discreetly gave a mog salute to Fsh. Peter bit back a smile, shaking his head.

  Tyson followed Natalie out of detention and down the hallways into the messy weight room. The scattered weights indicated hasty, careless workouts. The teams and PE csses using the facilities didn’t rerack their weights, and it seemed the custodial staff hadn’t ed retly. Natalie gestured to the ing supplies, a stack s and disiant spray.

  As Tyson started w, the king of weights and hiss of the spray bottle filled the room. Natalie settled into a nearby chair with a book. Her posture was deliberately casual, but every so often she'd shift, drawing his attention, then slowly cross and uncross her legs. Her movements were like a siren's call, meant to catch the eye. When she leaned forward, holding the book low, her blouse gaped just enough to offer a hint of cleavage creating an unspoken invitation for wandering eyes.

  Tyson tinued anizing the weights and wiping down each bench, feeling Natalie's gaze the whole time, a nearly palpable weight on his back. He finished after half an hour and looked over at her, a silent question hangiween them.

  She simply smiled. The cryptic curve of her lips told him nothing and everything at once. Her eyes roamed appreciatively over his athletic frame as he racked the st dumbbell.

  "Good work," Natalie praised as she checked the time. "You've still got 30 minutes of detention, Tyson. But since you did such a thh job..." she paused, eyes leisurely taking in the spotless weight room, "feel free to use the rest of the time to work out."

  Tyson's eyebrow quirked up. "You sure that's allowed?"

  "sider it a...privilege food behavior," she replied, mouth tig upward. “I’m sure a guy your size uands proper teique.”

  "I've got some experience," he admitted, catg the double meanie her ione.

  Natalie strolled fidently over to the squat rad smoothly loaded a set of ptes onto the barbell. Without preamble, she positioned herself uhe bar, lifted, and began squatting.

  Tyson noticed her pristine form; back straight, kable. Each rep was slow and trolled. Yet there was an exaggerated arch to her lower back that was hard to ighe posture atuated her figure more than it served any practical purpose. Gym etiquette dictated Tyson ignore her provocative posture and focus on his workout. But this wasn't a public gym.

  That's what he told himself, at least.

  After finishing her set, she easily added another set of ptes to the end of the weight. "Your turn," she beed, stepping back with an invitation and challenge.

  Tyson approached the bar, momentarily distracted by Natalie's performance. But as he positioned himself uhe weight and lifted it off the rack, his foarrowed. The familiar motion of squatting was grounding. He hadn’t lifted since arriving in this world, and it felt good to get ba the gym.

  "Wait," Natalie called out, hand raised. She stepped over and ordered, “Rack that for a moment.” Then wordlessly added ae to each side. Tyson raised his eyebrow but said nothing, resuming his reps. The extra weight was negligible. Agaiopped him, eyes glinting pyfully as she loaded o another set. "Try now," she challenged.

  Tyson accepted silently, tinuing his fluid, trolled squats. He powered through the set and the out a small, satisfied grin as he reracked the bar.

  Natalie watched appreciatively, arms crossed. "Not bad, Tyson," she remarked, a hint of genuine approval ione.

  Her praise warmed him. Natalie grabbed another barbell for herself. She deliberately pced it on the floor in the ter of the room with an eg k. She loaded a set of ptes and positioned herself for deadlifts. Each smooth, trolled bend atuated her figure and caused her shorts to ride up entigly.

  Finishing her set, she met Tyson's gaze. Her eyes sparkled with challehink you switch it up to front squats?" she asked casually though her expectation was clear.

  Hesitation flickered across Tyson’s face. Front squats had always been more challenging for him thaandard squat. But he nodded, gripping the bar and moving so that it y across the front of his shoulders. His first rep was careful, respeg the shifted bance. But realizing the lightweight, his caution faded.

  Natalie watched approvingly. "Impressive," she remarked sincerely.

  As Natalie pleted her sed set of deadlifts, her movements remaiantalizingly slow and sultry. Each lift was followed by an agonizingly gradual return upright. Despite himself, Tyson watched with barely veiled attention.

  "Your turn again," Natalie called, jolting him from his reverie. "How about some power s?"

  Tyson shrugged agreeably. Power s were explosive and demanding; a true test of power and teique. In his past life, he wouldn’t even sider, let alory such a thing with just over four hundred pounds. But the squats had been ughably easy. Nothing more than a warm-up with his enharength. He approached the bar, grounding himself and feeling the weight of Natalie’s expectations.

  His grip was sure, stance measured. He hefted the bar off the rack, stepping back. With surprising trol, he dropped it to hang at his thighs, then lowered it to the floor.

  With a breath, he initiated the first pull, a ground-skimming sweep up his shins as momentum built. The transition to the sed pull was seamless as his hips drove forward and shoulders shrugged with powerful force, ung the bar high. Thech, after a split-sed of weightlessness he dropped into a front squat, elbows pung forward to cradle the bar on his deltoids. A paused beat itom position, muscles coiled, before exploding upwards to stand tall, bar secure.

  Each subsequent rep mirrored the first creating a cycle of explosive power and trolled recovery. Finishing the set, Tyson looked up to find Natalie watg appreciatively with her arms crossed under her chest.

  "You make it look easy," she praised. Though her tone was light, Tysoed genuine respect. "Looks like your hour's up," Natalie remarked as they moved to rack their weights. She gnced around the tidy room. "Still hitting the dojo after all that?" She asked with a hint of pyful challenge in her voice.

  Tyson grinned. "The grind ops. That was just a warm-up."

  She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly but o was charming. She moved closer until her face was inches from his. Natalie fessed in a whisper, "Sorry fing you to the principal. I knew you'd defeer. Most students wouldn't." She was so close, her breath tickled his ear, "And I needed help ing up in here. So thanks for that."

  “It was worth it.” Her intimate proximity quied Tyson's pulse far more than the workout had. Her unique st stirred an urge to reach out. Instead, he cleared his throat, correg his thoughtless words. "I mean, it's no problem. All good."

  As they walked to the door, the charged atmosphere eased into something more fortable. "Maybe ime we work out, it'll be at the dojo," Natalie suggested.

  "I look forward to it," Tyson replied, leaving the potential hangiween them.

  Natalie paused at the exit. She met his eyes as she ented, "You know, you keep surprisiyson." She smiled. "See you around."

  Tyson watched her walk back down the hall, uo keep his eyes from wandering. With effort, he tore his gaze away and headed for the dojo.

  Behind the Ses

  - I tried to provide an expnation in the beginning of this chapter. But for crification, dy wasn't a random character, she's dy Moon aka Silk. Not familiar with her? She's a retively newer Spider-Man character. Her first ic appearance was in 2014, which I'd sider newer on the scale of ics. Her appearan this story is broadly ic accurate, with her in story being roughly the same - Bitten by the same spider as Peter Parker.

  - Basketball has e up several times throughout the story, and by this point I established a patterher unsciously or tally. But once I reized it, I tihe pattern throughout the stoing forward. This culminates in arc 7 (acc to my outline, haven’t written that far yet). But, if you care to go bad reread those chapters, you might be able to pick out the pattern.

  - Here we see Natasha utilize her spy skills. She reizes Tyson's wandering eyes and uses that to her advantage. She puts him in a situation to test his loyalty, and to see how he responds to an authority figure. Then shifts his punishment onto a test of his physical strength. In the end, she positions herself as a figure sympathetic to Peter's struggles and learns more about Tyson's personal life.

  - In the weight room with Natasha, Tyson does a set of power s with 405 lbs (184 kg) with little difficulty. While not a super-human aplishment on its own. The ease at which Tyson pletes it, and his iion to tinue exerg indicates to Natasha that he’s far beyond normal.

  - Tyson only used Jason’s power once during this chapter. Did you catch it?