Marvel: Absolute Universe

The warm glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of a modest home, casting long, golden shadows across the living room. Seven-year-old Peter Parker sat cross-legged on the carpet, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked on a small puzzle. His tiny hands carefully adjusted the colorful pieces, his tongue peeking out slightly in focus.

"Got it!" Peter exclaimed triumphantly, holding up the finished puzzle. His father, Richard Parker, leaned over the back of the couch, a proud smile spreading across his face.

"That's my boy." Richard said, ruffling Peter's unruly brown hair.

Nearby, Mary Parker, Peter's mother, chuckled softly as she placed a tray of cookies and milk on the coffee table. "He's definitely got your brains, Richard."

"And your persistence." Richard replied, his tone playful. He knelt beside Peter, sliding another box forward. "Alright, champ. Think you're ready for the next challenge?"

Peter's eyes lit up with excitement. "Is it harder?"

"Oh, much harder." Richard said, his voice dropping into a mock-serious tone.

Mary sat beside them, her expression warm but faintly tinged with something Peter couldn't yet recognize, concern. "This one's special, Peter. Your dad and I made it just for you."

Peter opened the box eagerly. Inside was a series of intricately designed blocks, each adorned with tiny symbols and patterns that looked almost scientific. At the center was a small device with a colorful screen.

"What is it?" Peter asked, picking up one of the blocks.

"It's a game." Mary said, leaning in closer. "Each piece fits into the others in a certain way. When you solve it, the screen will light up with a secret code. Think of it as... an adventure."

Richard's voice softened. "Take good care of it, Peter. It's one of a kind. Promise us you'll keep it safe, okay?"

"I promise!" Peter said earnestly, clutching the box to his chest.

Richard and Mary exchanged a glance, a fleeting look that Peter didn't catch.

....

That night, as Peter played with his new game in his room, the faint sound of hushed voices drifted from the living room. Richard and Mary sat at the kitchen table, their expressions grim as they sifted through stacks of documents and diagrams.

"We're running out of time." Mary whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Richard nodded, his jaw tight. "Oscorp is closing in. If they find out we've hidden the core data…"

Mary placed a hand over his. "They won't. We've done everything we can to keep it safe. Peter…" Her voice broke, but she steadied herself. "He'll be okay, Richard. Ben and May will take care of him."

Richard's hand clenched into a fist. "This isn't just about us. If that data falls into the wrong hands…"

"It won't." Mary said firmly. "We've hidden it where no one would think to look. We've done everything we can."

....

The next morning was a blur of hugs and farewells.

"We'll be back before you know it, kiddo." Richard said, lifting Peter into a tight hug.

Mary knelt beside him, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "Be good for Aunt May and Uncle Ben, alright? We'll bring you something special from our trip."

"Promise?" Peter asked, his voice small.

"Promise." Mary said, kissing his forehead.

....

Two days later, the news came.

Richard and Mary Parker's plane had gone down somewhere over the Atlantic. There were no survivors.

Peter sat on the couch in shock, clutching the box his parents had given him as May and Ben tried to comfort him. The weight of their absence pressed down on the house, a void that couldn't be filled.

....

Present night.

The garage was silent, save for the faint hum of Peter's laptop. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the vials of spiders lined neatly on his desk. His thoughts churned, his mind replaying the files he'd read about his parents and their connection to Oscorp.

'They hid the core data.' he thought, his brow furrowing. 'But where?'

His eyes drifted to the small window, the faint glow of the moon casting a silvery light into the room. A memory surfaced, unbidden: the game his parents had given him.

Peter froze.

"The game…" he whispered, his heart pounding.

It was their last gift to him, the one thing they'd told him to keep safe. Could it have been more than just a toy?

Peter shot out of his chair, grabbing his backpack and racing toward the house. The garage door creaked as he opened it, his footsteps thundering up the stairs.

May and Ben, sitting in the living room, looked up in surprise.

"Peter?" May asked, her brow furrowing. "What's going on?"

"Knowledge." Peter called over his shoulder, already halfway to his room.

Ben exchanged a puzzled glance with May. "Kids these days..."

....

Peter burst into his room, his eyes scanning the shelves and drawers. He dropped to his knees, pulling out a box of old toys and rummaging through it. His heart raced as his fingers brushed against something familiar.

There it was, the game.

He held it up, his hands trembling slightly. The colorful screen, the intricate blocks, it was all intact.

Peter sat on the floor, staring at the game. His parents' voices echoed in his mind.

"Take good care of it, Peter. It's one of a kind."

This wasn't just a game. It was a puzzle, a message, a legacy.

His grip on the box tightened, his resolve hardening. "Mom… Dad… I'll figure it out."

The night stretched on as Peter's thoughts raced. The answers were there, hidden in the game. And he was going to find them.

....

The stale air of the cell hung heavy around Miles, mingling with the faint, acrid scent of rust and mildew. After sharing the sparse meal with Eli, he leaned back against the damp wall, closing his eyes for a moment to steady his breathing. The wound in his side throbbed, a persistent reminder of how close he'd come to dying.

"You okay, Mister?" Eli's small voice broke the silence.

Miles opened his eyes, glancing at the boy who sat cross-legged on the floor, his thin frame trembling slightly.

"I'm fine, kid." Miles replied, offering a faint smile. "Just thinking."

Eli nodded, his big, watery eyes filled with a mix of fear and trust.

"Stay here," Miles said quietly, pushing himself to his feet with a wince. "I need to check something."

Eli tilted his head but stayed put, clutching his knees.

Miles approached the steel door, careful not to make a sound. He pressed his ear against it, straining to hear any noises from the other side. The muffled voices of two men filtered through, their conversation sharp but indistinct. A loud clang echoed somewhere above, followed by the faint hum of machinery.

'Definitely underground.' Miles thought. His eyes darted around the room, assessing their surroundings once more. The cell was small and unyielding, with no obvious weak points except for a vent high on the wall, its rusted frame barely clinging to the concrete.

Miles exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Worth a shot."

He turned back to Eli, whispering, "Stay quiet. I'm gonna check something."

The boy nodded again, his expression a mix of hope and dread.