Spider-Man SI

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***

New York. The Parker house. Evening.

Even though the girls were against it, I just didn't have the energy to keep looking for Connors. So I willed it to tomorrow. Felicia dropped us off at home, wished us a good night, and left. I wasn't tired, but I didn't want to cheat my friend's hopes. To which I modestly hinted to Gwen. The girl blushed sweetly, but adamantly gave me a slap on the wrist, which already had a life of its own. And ran off to take a shower. I sighed sadly and wandered to the kitchen, but halfway there I heard the doorbell ring. Hmm... who could it be? My aunt and uncle wouldn't call, they had their own keys, and it wasn't time for them to come back yet. When I opened the door, I stood there like a surprised statue.

- Hello, Peter. Is Gwen there?

- Hello, Mr Stacey. Yeah, she's gone for a shower. Come in, please. - I stepped aside, but the policeman shook his head.

- It's a good thing she's busy. I wasn't actually here to see her, I wanted to talk to you. Will you come out?

- Sure. - I put on my slippers and went outside and closed the door. The captain sat down on the steps, I sat next to him.

- Shit! Now that I'm here, I don't even know where to start.

- Start as you are. - I smiled, already imagining why this man had come. - How about a beer? Cold. My uncle's got a stash left.

- Bring it. - the cop's verdict. - Unless your uncle doesn't mind.

- He's not here right now. He's away for the day with relatives.

I quickly ran down to the basement and got a couple of beers out of my fridge, where I usually keep my samples. My uncle actually hides this divine beverage from Aunt May on occasion. Taking a small sip, and wetting his throat, Stacey began.

- Pete, you're a normal bloke. I've got nothing against you, as long as Gwen likes you. It's just... she's all I've got left. And I really care about my daughter. We've only just moved here and you're in a relationship... No, I know it's the right age, but... Shit! It's all happening too fast, you know?

- I know.

- You don't understand a damn thing. When you have kids of your own, and God forbid a daughter, then you'll understand.

- Sir. I'll be honest with you too. I love your daughter. I can assure you that's not just words. Of course, you're right, it's been too short a time. I myself am sometimes amazed at how quickly Gwen has taken up residence in my heart. But it's happened and... I'm glad of it.

The rest of the time we just sat and drank beer. My head was all jumbled up and I didn't know what else to say in a situation like this. Mr Stacey must have been having similar difficulties. When the beer was long finished, the man rose to his feet.

- All right, Peter. I'm glad we understand each other.

- Don't worry Mr Stacey, I won't hurt Gwen, and I won't let anyone else.

We shook hands.

- You can call me by my first name.

- Okay...sir. - I smiled, George smiled too, and walked to the car parked next door. - Sir, why don't you stay with us? Gwen would love it, and so would I.

- Yeah, no, Pete. I'll go. And don't tell your daughter I've been here, or I'll have something to listen to later. Cooing lovebirds!

I stood like that for a long time in the street, staring after the car that had long since gone out of sight. I thought about everything at once, and at the same time about nothing. It is amazing how much time a man spends on sometimes empty and unnecessary thoughts. Perhaps ordinary animals, unencumbered by the stamp of reasonableness, are extremely lucky. They obey their instincts and don't give a damn....

- Peter. - Something warm and familiar hugged me from behind. - Shall we go home?

- Come on, sweetheart.

***

New York Central Park. It's morning.

Manhattan Island Park, one of the most beautiful parks I've seen in all three of my lives. But I never planned on being there today. After feeding my girlfriend in the morning, I left her to improve her Russian. Meanwhile, I went down to the lab. There were a lot of things to do, but without a normal university lab you could forget about most of them for a while. Moreover, if a child is given a new toy, he loses interest in the old and boring things for a while. What am I saying? Well, I couldn't leave Mysterio's equipment out of it, could I? Of course I couldn't! His three-dimensional illusions of monsters from the cinema interested me a lot. I wanted to understand how they worked. Now it would be much easier to make a disguise illusion for Kurt. At least, I hope so, because I didn't have time to understand new technologies. The house was visited by a meteor, in the form of Felicia Hardy. He swept through the floors, found me and unapologetically took me by the scruff of the neck and shook me a couple of times.

- Tell me!

- Tell me what? - I was a little stiff from the morning and the new prospects offered by Mysterio's technology.

- Peter! Well, you promised! Remember yesterday!

- Mate, don't shout. My head hurts. - Gwen's head popped into the basement. - Guys, let's go on a picnic. А? We'll get some fresh air, we'll talk, we'll eat.

And so it was agreed. The girls agreed. They didn't care much about my opinion. So in an hour and a half we were already sitting near a small artificial reservoir. Girls, in nature, as it is supposed to real flowers blossomed, and just fought with their beauty! I was glad that I had brought my camera with me, and now I could capture their beauty for memory.

- Enough with the photo shoot! - Finally, the cat couldn't stand it any longer. - I already know I'm beautiful. Piteer! Come on, don't keep me waiting!

- Okay. - I rub my injured ears resentfully. - It all started when I was bitten by a spider...

I deliberately started with that. I didn't want to tell you that Peter Parker suddenly started hearing voices in his head. Even though I trust my friends, I thought they didn't need to know everything. Suddenly the storytelling carried me along. I talked and talked. How I'd learnt my powers, how I'd first put on the mask, how I'd helped a policeman, and even how I'd first killed... I told them the details of Felicia's kidnapping... the misadventures of Brock and Venom... In short, I told them almost everything without detail. When I finished, I was surprised to realise that my mouth was dry and I was worried sick. The opinion of those two sitting opposite me was very important to me. But even my empathy couldn't help me now. It was impossible to make out anything in the girls' emophone. The minutes I waited for their reactions seemed like an eternity. When Gwen snuggled up to me, hugging me tightly, I glowed, realising that I wasn't rejected. Felicia's embrace finally lifted me to heaven.

- My curiosity is completely satisfied. - Felicia concluded a dozen minutes later, when we'd all moved away. - Gwen, scratch my tummy and I'll purr....

- Cat, you're going to get fur soon. - Gwen joked wickedly, stroking her friend's tummy.

- And then you'll grow ears, and then a tail. - I added. - Nevertheless, you do not mind to clarify the situation to the end?

- What do you mean?

- What do you mean? Think about it. We essentially have two hundred million dollars in foreign banks right now. We've all shown some pretty good teamwork together. Until we find the doc, we'll still have our team in place for sure. Well, then what about after that? Have you thought about what happens next? Are we going to keep pretending we're taking qualified military training courses just for self-defence?

- Peter. - Gwen looked me in the eye with determination. - I want to be there for you anyway. Whether it's sitting in a lab or saving people's lives. Besides, you're right. We already make a solid task force. It's stupid to deny the obvious. We've all got half an adrenaline rush. Don't get me wrong, I like wearing the white coat, but that's only half of me. Even now I can't imagine myself without a heavy sniper rifle with excellent optics. I'm sick of just target shooting. - we're all smiling.

- You've been honest with us, Pete. That's why I'm gonna tell it like it is. I recently learned the truth about my father. My father was a high-level thief, and now he's in prison. I want to get him out. That's why I've been training so hard. And I also want to get revenge on Ryan. That's all my goals.

- I see...' I said thoughtfully.

- I see?! - The cat was indignant. - That's your entire reaction? You don't care that my father was a thief? A criminal?

Gwen shrugged serenely, showing that such unimportant details really didn't interest her much. And I thought back, everything I know about Felicia's father.

- Circumstances... they are different. You can call us that if you want to. And that's okay. I don't see any of us in any trouble of conscience. I just remembered something... Wasn't your father called Cat?

- How do you know that? - the girl got up as if she was going to jump.

- Calm down, just calm down! I'll tell you what I know. I can't be sure. But there is information that a certain Kot is sitting in the casemates of a secret organisation called 'S.I.T.'. That's basically it.

Felicia jumped to her feet and began to run circles around the lake. As she did so, she whispered something unintelligible. Like I'll find the creeps and scratch out all the eyes and more....

- Now, about my goals. - I continued when the cat calmed down a bit and came back to us. - They are simple, but on the other hand they are difficult to achieve. I'll start a little bit from afar. You know that mutants are born in the world. They're few now, and they don't affect our lives as much. I can tell you what will happen next. There will be more and more mutants, and more people like me, every year. Superheroes, supervillains, anti-heroes, terrorist dictators and just plain psychos with superpowers. That's what's in store for us. But even that's just the tip of the iceberg. Aliens, gods, demons, wars that will affect the entire planet and beyond... It's all coming. I know. And that's why I don't want to be a grain of sand in this ocean, I don't want to be someone who can be destroyed by the powers that be. And I also want to protect the people closest to me from the same fate.

- You speak of terrible things.

- If I wasn't sure, I'd keep quiet and not scare you. The deities, at least in Scandinavian mythology, are very real, and material. Odin, Thor, Loki, and all the rest....

- But how do you protect yourself from that? Thor, isn't that... unbelievable.....

The girls didn't look at me trustingly, but they knew me well. I don't think I'm joking now.

- There's only one option. We need to get stronger. Strong enough to stand up for ourselves. You can see that. One spider bite, and I can fight against three opponents with my abilities in check. - the girls nodded sullenly. - So, I'll ask you one last time. Do we act together? Helping each other achieve our goals?

Gwen pressed herself against me in silence. Felicia nibbled her lip and frowned.

- Cats are willful creatures... but...' the blonde smiled slyly. - If you love me and feed me regularly, I'll go with you.

- Good! I've got my finance manager! - I exclaim excitedly.

- What? To work? No way! - Felicia screams in horror.

Suddenly our banter was interrupted. A girl approached us. She looked about thirteen or fourteen years old. She was dirty, her blond hair (I felt a twitch for some reason) hadn't been brushed for a long time, and her face was smeared. On her feet were once white trainers. Now they were covered in a thick layer of dirt that made it hard to see their natural colour. Tattered and worn, the trainers were clearly living out their last days. The rest of his clothes weren't much better, either. Ripped jeans, a jumper with only its name left. A cap with obscure dark red stains on it. The girl was very thin, but she was beautiful nonetheless. Clothes that not every bum would care to wear could not hide the girl's beauty. Of course, some childish angularity was still there, but it was already clear that the girl will grow up to be a beauty. Her breasts are almost tearing the tight jumper. Of course, the girl would be washed ...

Meanwhile, the girl came closer. But, nevertheless, she remained at a distance.

- Forgive me. But I wonder if you could give me what you won't finish later. I-I haven't eaten anything since yesterday.

Of course, I didn't doubt that homeless people existed. But to see a thirteen year old ragamuffin girl alive like that... It was a big shock for me! My friends were the first to react. I'm sure their maternal instincts kicked in. Because before the girl and I could even blink an eye, the ladies were on their feet. Like hens, they were fluttering around the girl. The latter blinked confusedly, and seemed to have forgotten that she was kind of wary of us, and ready to run away if anything happened. I blinked, the girl too. A moment and all three of the fair sex moved to the basket of food. Gwen actively and with some terrible manic gleam in her eyes, shoved all the little food we had into the girl. Felicia materialised wet wipes, and scrubbed the girl's face clean of dirt. After ten minutes, the girl couldn't eat, she just couldn't eat anymore. She glared at me so pitifully that I finally found the power of speech.

- All right! That's it! Gwen, the girl's had enough! Felicia, wipe the hole, stop rubbing it! Calm down, you restless bastards!

After another five minutes, they finally heard me, but they didn't believe me. I had to fight to prove my point. The girl tried to run away. For which she got a slap on the head with me. In general, for about fifteen minutes we looked into each other's eyes with equally lost gazes. At the same time, we were carefully, thoughtfully and objectively proved that we are nobody, call us nothing, and in general, that we do not interfere in adult affairs.

- If you understand, good. Though I doubt you got it. All right,' Gwen turned to face the girl, 'now tell me!

- W-what? - She asked in a frightened, thin voice.

- How did you come to this life? What are you doing on the street?

And the girl told. At first confused and reluctant, but gradually her voice hardened, and the events grew in detail. Once again I am convinced that the method of pouring out the soul is very effective! The case was like this.

To begin with, the girl herself has a very extraordinary name for my taste. Her name is Petra. Her parents and older brother emigrated to the United States from Denmark. Petra was born here. They lived happily, the girl loved her brother very much. But a little over a year ago, when she was thirteen, her parents and brother were killed in a landslide. The social welfare authorities placed her in a family that had already taken in several children with a similar fate. Petra was afraid of everything, she could not get used to a foreign environment. She was especially afraid of her foster father. As it turned out, the girl was afraid of him not in vain. One day he took her for a walk, in this very park. Taking Petra to a deserted place, this freak began to molest the little girl. This is where the most interesting part of the story unfolds. The foster father began to sink into the ground, as if he had fallen into quicksand. Terrified, the man started screaming, calling the girl a freak and 'one of those mutants.'

After that, Petra ran away. She didn't want to end up in another family like that, or God forbid return to her rapist. After realising her power, the young lady lived on the streets for somewhere over six months. By influencing the earth, she could make artificial caves in which she hid from everyone. Petra was afraid that if others found out about her abilities, they would hate her. That's how she lived begging for provisions, or banally stole them.

When the story ended, the girl suddenly cried.

- You're going to kick me out now, aren't you? Because I'm a mutant and a freak! Will you despise me?!

The ground around us shook, and the girl's eyes narrowed warily. My friends became nervous. I hummed unhappily, and rose to my feet. Petra jumped up too, furrowed her brow, and clenched her fists. The ground shook more violently. Clods of soil began to slowly rise into the air. Turning my back to her, I walked calmly to the nearest tree. I kicked off my trainers. I put my left foot on the trunk, looked at the girl and smiled cheerfully at her. One step and the other foot on the trunk. Repeating Hatake Kakashi's feat, I climbed up to the middle of the trunk. Too bad I don't have crutches, so the picture isn't complete.

The ground had almost stopped shaking, with only occasional faint tremors. The clods tentatively sank back into their native element. Petra looked at me with wide, childish eyes and mouth open.

- 'As you can see I'm a freak too, and one of "those". Tell me, why should I drive you away? Why should I despise you Peter?

The girls finally woke up, which coincided with a new attack of maternal instinct. Well, now what do you want to do? Three blondes are roaring, huddled together, and I'm like a fool standing in the middle of the tree, in torn socks.

What kind of life have I got? Every step is a feat, every acquaintance has superpowers, every day is an adventure! Maybe I'm exaggerating, but still! Is it really possible that an ordinary person can face so many trials? Or are there rare bits of truth in religious teachings? In my case, there were. M-ma... what was it? God sends each person as many trials as the person is capable of enduring. Something like that, I think. But that's just a story. What am I supposed to do with this new blonde b-b-b-b-b-blonde acquaintance? Let it go and forget it like a bad dream? Well, that's tempting. Somehow I think blondes are nothing but trouble. And the more blondes, the more trouble. What do I need it for? Two tribeswomen are enough for me!

But letting a mutant with such interesting powers go? Local earthquake, some analogue of telekinesis only purely on the ground, and shit else knows what.... I my possessive vein will not allow, certainly and without options! I don't know the limits and ultimate talents of Petra, but even what she's shown so far has impressed me. By the way, I don't remember a character like this girl. At all. Of course, it's hard for me to call myself an expert on the Marvel universe, but I know the main characters. So, the girl never went on the big stage, or died before she had such a desire. Now it's hard for me to say, maybe she's from a new generation of the same X-men, I've never read comics much. It doesn't matter now, though!

It's a sin to throw away valuable footage! The only question is, how do I get her to like me? It's not like I'm a bald-headed grandpa, so opening a school is plagiarism. Or should I? Having my own team of supers is very tempting. I'm not gonna save the planet by myself every time, am I? What am I, spiderman?! Still, I don't exactly look like Xavier. I'm afraid I can't do high school, not yet. Unless I take it out on the girls? That's a long shot, too. There are more pressing matters at the moment. Dzeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee... The unexpected call made me jump involuntarily, aha in a tree. Spitting with annoyance, I reached into my pocket for the phone. The number refused to be recognised, so I hesitated for a couple of seconds before poking at the green handset.

- I'm listening. - I said carefully and politely.

- Hello. - I get an equally polite reply, but you can't fool me! - Do you recognise it?

- That voice is hard to forget! - I return my tone to its former sneer.

- So, how many years of hard training! Okay, it's urgent. I need to meet you, where are you?

- Central Park.

- Okay, I'll be there in an hour.

After listening to the phone ring for a few minutes, I put my hand down. Why did Shark need me? I don't even have to ask him how he got my number. With his powers, it's no problem to get the number. Eh... I feel like Coach isn't coming to buy me ice cream. I don't need any more trouble, I've got plenty. Connors, Petra.

My eyes have gone black. The bond between the bark of the tree and my holey socks failed abruptly. I fell. Sounds cut off, no sense of balance, I was falling, or flying. It's hard to tell. All my senses went crazy. I didn't realise what was happening, I was not thinking straight. I wanted to scream, but I'd forgotten how to do it. I forgot who I was. My head was in a vise. Someone was sawing my skull with a dull and rusty saw. And then slowly and savourily, spoon by spoon, eating my brains. But it seemed so insignificant, so unworthy of attention. I could see my hands. I could see badly, the picture was floating and snowing heavily. My hands were normal, exactly my hands, and my nails needed to be trimmed. Twisting my right hand, I noticed with horror that the skin on it was turning black. Like smouldering paper, it was darkening but not shriveling, like hot tar. It scared me, I couldn't remember why it was supposed to be scary. But the image was just driving me into an eerie panic, something like this had already happened to me once before. I didn't want it to happen again. I DIDN'T! And then I remembered how to scream, and I screamed....

***

New York City neighbourhood. Half an hour earlier.

A white, sporty-looking Audi made a slow turn, and found itself on a long straight stretch of road. There were no markings on it, the tarmac was new and well warmed in the sun. The private road was in perfect condition. And that's why the Audi was gradually gaining speed. So no sooner had the driver got into the taste, than a section of the road was passed. The Audi slowed down, drove through the gate opened by someone and made an honourable semicircle and stopped near the main entrance to the estate. There were five teenagers staring admiringly at the car. The car door opened. A white, high heel clicked against the pavement, and the driver... or rather the driveress appeared. A breathtakingly beautiful mulatto woman. Slightly plump lips, expressive eyes, and absolutely white hair, put the minds of nearby youth in blissful ecstasy. Even more the teenage psyche was torn apart by the mulatto's clothes. In tone with her hair, she was just as snow-white. A white blouse, a white necklace with rather large beads, and a particularly noteworthy skirt. What skirt?! A mini skirt, not much different from the wide leather belt that the girl was also wearing. The teenagers watched with clearly audible sighs of disappointment as the mulatto girl bent over to adjust the skirt, because it had slipped too far down to her waist in the car.

- Miss Monroe!

A man who came out to meet the mulatto woman said somewhat annoyed. His appearance, by the way, was also worth mentioning. The author modestly omits his short stature, omits the slouching posture, omits the wide almost square face, ignores the colour of his eyes and other trifles like small fangs protruding from his lower lip. He would only confide that the man's entire body was covered with short, blue-coloured fur.

- Miss Monroe! - the strange man muttered again as he descended the steps. - Couldn't you have parked right in the garage?

- Well, I couldn't deny the boys the pleasure, could I? - she replied in a mysterious, loud whisper so that everyone could hear. - Park it, but don't scratch it!

The mulatto smiled and tossed the keys to the group of teenagers. With her heels clacking, she climbed the steps and made her way inside the manor. The company of young mutants began to self-consciously fight over the prized trophy. The blue-haired one frowned disapprovingly, and shouted at the children as they followed, but they couldn't see the slight smile on their strict teacher's face. But the mulatto saw it.

- You like to play the strict father!

- You wear skirts that show your knickers. We all have our little pleasures in this boring life. I'll wait till the professor introduces uniforms for students and teachers in particular, then I'll laugh.

- Hank, don't tell me you don't like the way I dress. I'll be the one laughing!

- Why is that? - Mutant raised an eyebrow.

- Imagine how funny you'd look in a suit. Hee-hee-hee-hee.

- Echidna. - said the Beast without rancour. - How was your holiday?

- Well, how could you get any rest in a week? - Monroe complained sadly. - The professor promised a full fortnight, and now this. What happened here, by the way? The professor didn't say anything specific on the phone.

- I don't know all the details myself. Scott, Gene, and Bobby went on a mission. I understand the Professor was covering for them. Anyway, the guys barely got out of there in relative one piece.

- With Xavier as backup? - questioned the mulatto incredulously.

- I'm puzzled myself!

Over a leisurely conversation, the two people who knew each other well descended into the basements of the school for gifted children. A place where these children were not allowed to go. Well, not until a certain time, of course, and probably not all of them. The mutant with blue hair led his companion into the general conference room. Almost all the other X-men were already gathered there. Suddenly, an agitated Scott Summers jumped out of a side corridor to meet them. In his arms hung the well known telepath unconscious carcass. The mulatto woman gave a strangled gasp.

- What happened? Scott?

- I... I don't know. I found him unconscious. Near Cerebro... on the floor...

***

No idea where. No idea when.

The purple mist was everywhere. It filled space, he was that space. It was a separate reality, or maybe a universe or something. There was no one who could think about it, which meant no one was interested in the exact classification of the fog. One would have thought that no one existed in the purple mist, but no. Periodically, an individual would appear there. The nature of the place just wasn't interesting to her. It wasn't even that the woman wasn't inquisitive. She had her own problems around which her endless thoughts revolved. She had no time for philosophical questions and was not interested in them at all.

She sat on a throne. It was not ordinary, strange, not even understandable to her. Its back was like a piece of spider's web, as if some mad sculptor had welded it from metal tubes, and then forgot about his child, and it began to rust slowly. By the way, the throne was the only object that existed in this fog. The woman herself was wearing a long dress, a high collar, a long slit on one side, and a large neckline on her back, almost exposing her completely. The dress beautifully emphasised and encircled all the woman's charms. The dress itself was of the same dark purple colour, and on the chest there was an image of a white spider, whose thin legs embraced the woman. The same rusty metal tubes ran from the bare back straight from the flesh into the back of the throne.

Someone with an undisguised sneer on his pale lips called her Madame Web.

The woman's whole posture gave away the tension, her hands clutched convulsively at the handrails of the throne, her lips curved in a crooked line, she did not breathe, her open eyes filled with a whitish mist. Despite its different colour, the mist was eerily similar to its violet counterpart. Suddenly the mist disappeared from her eyes and the woman began to slump, falling forward from her throne. Tubes began to come out of the woman's back with a nasty slurping sound.

She woke up on the floor of her flat. A small two-bedroom that had known better days, it had long craved a cosmetic, or better yet, a major overhaul. The tears flowed by themselves, a steady stream of them flowed down her cheeks and soon mixed with the blood that trickled cheerfully from her nose. She lifted her head, some of the blood had already dried and it was hard to pull her head off the linoleum. Turns out blood is a good substitute for glue when you need it. It was hard, but she was also experienced. She found a wheelchair with a fairly steady hand, and climbed onto it. Another of her thrones, the woman didn't even know which of the two she hated more. Wiped away the blood with a dirty sleeve. Her back was aching. Phantom pains were not much different from the real thing. Soon she felt a little better. And strong hands rolled the 'throne' to the mirror. A measured motion, it was a place she visited more often than she watched television. No matter what, she loved herself very much. And when she could finally see, the mirror became her best friend. In the reflection one could see a middle-aged woman, with hair as black as tar, strong-willed and correct facial features. She paid no attention to the blood for now, she would wash it off later. Rolling the pram close to her, she moved her body. And froze like that. After a small amount of time, she shrieked in horror. A wrinkle cut across her forehead, then another, and her healthy, generally healthy complexion was rapidly turning grey. Her skin was aging, her hair was turning white with grey, her tongue ran across her teeth. A tooth fell to the ground through lips open in a silent scream. A couple of minutes later, an old woman sat in front of and in the mirror.

- No! Please, no! - She wailed without ceasing.

She loved herself, loved herself very much. She loved being young.

At that moment she was cursing everything in the world. Curse her master, curse her maimed body, curse the spiders she hated with all her soul. She cursed the one overly curious bald telepath who liked to stick his long nose where it didn't belong. And if he'd stick his nose where it didn't belong, it was bad timing. Just when she was about to do the same thing. Madame Cobweb was a weak telepath, frankly worthless. It was only through borrowed power, the power of the mist, that she was able to confuse one of the strongest telepaths on Earth. After all, her master had strictly forbidden her to be seen by the powers of the world. She cursed the hour when her master had allowed her to see this vile and worthless world. She had thought it was a gift then, a priceless gift! One had to wonder at the slight contemptuous smile that had visited his face then. She cursed everything...

An hour passed like that, or maybe two. Who can say for sure... But the old woman calmed down as much as was possible. No more tears flowed, there was nothing left to cry.

- I'll be back, in the bloody fog. - She mumbled hoarsely.

Better there. To sit on the bloody throne, and dissolve in the endless streams of possible futures, and pasts. Better to forget... and wait for the fog to bring back a shred of youth. With great difficulty, she managed to summon the violet mist that wrapped her body and dragged her with it.

The old woman couldn't see how the fog was filling her two-bedroom, how the walls of the flat were dissolving into an endless purple haze....

***

New York's Central Park. Lunch.

The tears were flowing, and she couldn't help it. Petra didn't even really know why she was crying. It was like a collective lunacy, as two girls she didn't even know were crying, just like she was. The three beautiful women on this filthy earth were sobbing and hugging each other tightly.

What was she thinking at that moment? Nothing! At that moment, the slightly salty water took everything with it. And sadness, and fear, and all the rare thoughts. But, in spite of the moisture covering her eyes, Petra could still see perfectly well the boy standing horizontally on the trunk of the tree. And so she was the first to see him fall. A muffled sound attracted the attention of the other girls. In an instant the tears dried up and the two Furies sprang towards the unconscious body. Petra also timidly stepped closer. She could not understand why this still a few minutes ago cheerful guy fell down out of the blue. It is clear that the girl had little idea of medicine as such, but even those crumbs that she could operate on were enough to realise that it was not just a faint. The guy was squirming and shaking. The worst of it was that not even a breath came out of his throat. The girls shouted something, but Petra didn't listen. Sticky and vile, cold, but at the same time incredibly sweet. Fear filled her soul. Somehow the fate of the boy suddenly seemed to be of some importance to the girl. He reminded her of her brother, the man whom Petra loved more than anyone else in the world. Not in appearance, not in stature, but in that striking ability to make her calm down and listen to the quiet but strong and persuasive voice with just a smile. Her brother had died before her eyes. Now this guy, too, was close to a dangerous line. For a moment it seemed to her that the wrist of the lad's right hand was blackened; she could not see the left. A jerk of fear swept over her head with a jerk. She realised there was nothing she could do to help, she wanted to cry, and the girl sobbed again. The guy screamed and calmed down, one of the blondes with a similar hair colour to the luminary was also crying and shaking the guy.

- Gwen, what are you doing? Are you trying to kill me? - Muttered the guy quietly.

Petra settled to the ground. The second blonde swore vigorously. The experience of street life helped Petra to appreciate the swearing.

- Peter, are you okay? What was that?

- I don't know, to both questions.

Peter pulled himself up, brought his hands closer to his face and examined them closely. But everything was fine. The usual healthy skin colour. Sighing a sigh of relief, he got to his feet with the help of a girl whose name Petra didn't yet know. The fear receded, not gone, but lurking for a while. The girl withdrew into herself, the thoughts that had hitherto graciously rounded the pretty head, suddenly found a convenient path and hurried to catch up. The death of her parents and brother, foster care, life on the streets, full of fear, hunger, and eternal tears. They say life on the streets is cruel, and so are the people who live there. Petra disagreed fundamentally with this statement. It is undoubtedly hard, but nothing more. And people that live on the street, often rude, intemperate and the like. But the girl often wondered why it is these people most of all use drugs and alcohol. Why are they the ones who most want to forget the cruel world of the streets?

- Come on, baby. - the platinum blonde caught the girl's eye.

- Huh?' she hesitated, realising that she had fallen out of reality a little.

- Let's go, I said.

- W-where?

- Well, I thought Pete said he wasn't going to chase you away and leave you. - The platinum one smiled friendly and logically continued. - So we're going to his house!

- And... - Petra suddenly realised that the guy was missing, - Where is your friend? And why to his house?

- F-f... - the second blonde, I think her name was Gwen, said glumly. - He's gone off somewhere. Bollocks!

- Don't you worry, sweetie! - Platinum elbowed her friend and glared menacingly at her, then turned to Petra emitting a slight slightly devious half-smile. - You wash properly, we'll get you some clothes. Gwen, have you got anything? I've seen your bags.

- You should. - said her friend doubtfully, giving the girl an X-ray look.

- Here we go! We'll feed you! And then we'll see!

Petra herself did not realise how she was already getting into the car. To refuse the assertive girl, who introduced herself as Felicia, was simply unreal! Already in the cabin again struck fear. What if they took her somewhere... well, I don't know! There are a lot of scary stories on the streets. Or what if they returned her to her foster family? That would be even more terrifying! The gloomy thoughts, however, were abruptly replaced by astonishment at hearing a snippet of Gwen's phone conversation.

- ...What are you saying? Eddie's missing too?! That's terrible! Where am I? We went to the park... No, we didn't! I've got loads of people with me. Besides, we're on our way back to Pete's. There's no need for security. That's it. I don't know why I'm calling. It's not like we did anything wrong. What kind of poor judgement is that about your own daughter? Anyway. I know you're busy right now, but I thought I'd call you instead of the department. There's a girl in foster care being molested by a parent..... No, she ran away, and she's been living on the streets for quite a while. ...Well, I'm sorry, Daddy! This is very important to me, and I believe Petra! That's why I don't want the bastard to get away with it! Thank you, Daddy. You're the best! Petra, tell me the name of your foster carers.

The girl on the machine whispered the hateful name and their address. Gwen repeated it into the phone.

- ... Yes I understand! Don't be a nuisance! ... Aye, aye, Captain, sir! Stay close to Pete! You got it, sir. Permission to execute?!

- Ho-ho! - Felicia sang with delight. - Oh, you're so good, mate! I want to do it too! Get my phone out of my bag.

- Who are you gonna call? - Gwen murmured bloodthirstily, fulfilling the request.

- You've got the police's attention. I'll try to get the press involved. I don't doubt your father's abilities, but why not? That way this case will definitely go to court!

- Why are you helping me? - Petra asked stunned, when the call and the conversation took place.

- You see, little one, - Felicia turned back for a moment, looking at the girl with an incomprehensible expression, - I don't like rapists. I don't like rapists very much!

Just an hour later Petra was soaking blissfully in the bathtub. As a true lady she could not deny herself the pleasure. Especially since she had been deprived of it for so long. That's why she spent so much time on water procedures. Finally, when her skin was back to its original colour, when all the products she had found in the bathroom had been tried, then, finally, the girl thought it was enough for today. Her hair was wrapped in a single towel, and Petra herself was wrapped in a delicate piece of cloth. Her cheeks were blissfully flushed and she felt calm and peaceful. Gwen had provided her with some of her own clothes. They were a little too big, but the girl didn't care about that. The main thing - it was clean. The pair of friends with some difficulty managed to comb and put Petra's blonde hair in relative order. Then they looked at the result with a sceptical eye, and Felicia concluded.

- The best relaxation is shopping! Boutique shopping, girls!

Petra didn't want to cause these people any unnecessary trouble, already they had already done more than she could imagine.

- Isn't that necessary? My clothes are quite washable...' she said timidly.

- Petra. - Gwen looked firmly into the girl's eyes. - We can't help everyone in need. But we can help you. You don't have to refuse, just let us do it.

- Right! Baby, don't be shy! Come on, Pete said he'd be here tonight, so we're free for now.

- And your friend, Peter. - Petra had no choice but to accept help. But she firmly promised herself that as soon as she could, she would thank these strange people. Having made up her mind, she relaxed and gave herself over completely to curiosity. - Is he a mutant like me? What are his powers? What about you? Also?

The shopping trip was a success! It would be possible to describe it in detail, but (the author is too merciful) Petra did not remember the details. After all, there were too many impressions. Clothing boutiques were only a small part... Beauty salons, masseurs, pure chocolate baths... In general, Petra was satisfied like an elephant that learnt to fly. In the evening the two blondes decided to prepare a festive feast. Petra's tummy rumbled in agreement, anticipating the food. Felicia parked outside the house. Loaded with shopping bags, the ladies piled inside. The phone rang, but just when Gwen wanted to pick it up, the answering machine came on.

- ...

- Zvizdets! - As always, the platinum blonde said authoritatively, listening to the recording.

- Yeah...' Gwen confirmed dully. - What are we going to do?

Petra seemed to be the only one who didn't understand anything, but she felt a grave breeze inside her. An unsettling evening was looming.

***

New York Central Park. Lunch.

As I approached the bench, I glanced around. But there was no one with a suspicious hair colour around. We're alive! My legs treacherously trembled, and I was relieved to fall down on the horizontal surface. I had neither a player nor headphones with me. I took my phone out of my pocket and twirled it doubtfully. I went through the rest of my pockets with hope, but I couldn't find even a shadow of earplugs. He sighed bitterly and heavily. I tapped, started the track. Patience was enough for a minute and a half. The speakers of the device worked terribly, I wanted to drown the music box, and first to attach a heavier boulder to it for safety. It was a pity, usually music helps to collect thoughts in a heap. The mobile phone beeped long and pitifully, looked at the screen. Aha, it wants energy, where can I get it for you, my dear?

I listened to myself. It's all right, it's cheerful. I wouldn't say anything hurts. But then why does it feel so bad? No one was in a hurry to answer. Put my hands to my face. Nothing. Was it just a vision? A vision? What the hell was that? What was happening to me? All right, screw it! I need a lab! It's about time I got my labs back! Get some blood drawn and put under a microscope. I'm gonna talk to Shark, tell him to get lost, and then I'll go to university.

Surprisingly, the coach arrived even earlier than promised. But I still had time to savour a cup of coffee at the nearest coffee shop. I was still a bit wobbly in places, I wanted to fall on the bed and fall asleep as a lazy fireman. As I climbed into the black SUV, I said a languid hello to Shark and leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes. My spider sense also seemed to be feeling as bad as its master. Thank the Blessed Deadpool, at least it was working somehow! I could feel the hard stare my teacher was giving me, but I could feel it.

- So?' he finally broke the silence.

- Mate, I'm sorry, but now my modest abilities do not allow me to read your mind. Tell me, what did you want?

- Why didn't you tell me anything about the doc being missing?

After about five minutes of angry sniffling, my tortured mind finally got it. It wouldn't hurt to check my hunch, though, because I wasn't thinking straight right now.

- Is that what you call a pro?

And again for about five minutes of heavy... although why heavy? For me it was just the usual blissful silence. Ahem... so there. Shark was obviously not at his best today either. But finally, the man digested my words, and growled angrily.

- That's what you call him! No... I'm calling him that... or... So why are you confusing me? Why are you confusing me? А?

- Shark, be a friend, don't shout... it's bad enough as it is...' I pleaded without opening my eyes, trying to get comfortable.

- What are you saying? No one ever woke you up in the middle of the night? I'm not a boy anymore, I'm not the age when you can dance all night and go to university in the morning as if nothing had happened.

- Who wakes you up in the middle of the night? - with a tiny drop of irony.

- Martha Connors.

Oh, I'm such an arsehole! I forgot all about her! I should have visited the woman, tried to reassure her. I knew her, thankfully. I'd been to Connors' house a few times, eaten his wife's fabulous cooking, played with Billy's baby. And how many times she'd come to the lab, I couldn't count. Martha Connors is a wonderful woman, mother and wife. After all, perfectly understands and feels the nature of her husband, a workaholic. And most importantly, she is not trying to change her husband, accepting the way he is. Sometimes, looking at their happy family, I well became envious. There is no need to go far, here it is the ideal of marital and family happiness. Clearly, I couldn't tell her the truth, but I could just visit her and calm her down. Just as I could have called Shark.

I could have told him that his friend had turned into a swamp monster. Only a magic arrow can undo it, but you need to have an excellent eye, so as not to hit your friend inadvertently in the head. Jokes are jokes, of course, but I really don't know if the brew I've prepared will work. Theoretically, yes! But sadly, real life differs from theory, sometimes not for the better. Maybe I'll only make things worse. I don't want to lie to Sharq, but I don't want to tell the truth either. Why upset the man? He won't help me, he'll only spoil his nerves. Though he's already spoiling his nerves. As I continued to think about it, Shark continued to talk.

- She called, voice shaking, crying. She said Kurt was missing, the police wouldn't say anything... Anyway, I frantically packed up and went to their house. I calmed her down till morning, Martha started seeing things, crying that she was afraid for her son.

- Well, a nervous breakdown... - I stretched out, as suddenly something rang at the edge of consciousness. - Listen, why did she called at night? The mess in the lab and the prof's absence was discovered in the morning...

- Probably didn't have time for that during the day. Lots of police at home, reporters and stuff. And at night, alone in the house with a small child. Stress, fatigue, fear, my psyche couldn't take it.

- Hm... - the thought was spinning around, somewhere near, but I couldn't catch it, in despair I decided to distract myself with conversation and asked the first thing that came to mind. - What were those visions?

- At night I heard a noise in the backyard, I took a torch and looked out. And there was a shadow or something, I don't know. But she saw a green monster.

I felt like an idiot! I slapped myself and started hysterically banging on the headrest. Why? It was like I was punishing myself, but at the same time - gently! I'm a dunce! I was running around the city like a madman, almost looking under every pebble, and I didn't think about such an obvious option! I mean, what would it take to figure out where the Lizard is likely to appear? No, I thought about it, but all my thoughts revolved around the sewer, and I didn't think to look a little further. I mean, there's canon where the Lizard was always hiding underground! Wait... That's if Prof was outside his house... Maybe his brain didn't switch off! Well, at least not completely switched off. Ha! How can a prof have complete clarity of consciousness, and only because of the specifics of his appearance he's shy of people's eyes?! It's a dream, but why not?

- Shark, you left the lads outside the Connors' house, didn't you?

- What makes you say that? - The ex-military man stared at me with interest.

- You taught me to make psychological profiles of all people. I've learnt a little about you. Cautiousness is exactly about you.

- Heh... - heckled the teacher - I've taught you on my own head! Too bad we have a contract army.

- What are you doing? - I'm surprised. - Nostalgia? You want to go back?

- I did my time! - Shark said proudly. - But I'm still a patriot. Maybe you should think about it. Girls love a bloke in uniform.

- No, no, no, no! Girls love me anyway, so I don't need it!

- Talk your women into it, too. They're clearly talented.

I shake my head negatively, and remove the smile.

- Are they good?

Shark just nodded, serious as he was. As I gathered my courage, I began to tell the coach my thoughts on the pro.