Miles Morales: New Spider Chapter 4.

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It took me quite some time to crack the Spider-Man web formula and tweak it to my liking. The process was incredibly tedious—exposing the formula to air or any environmental conditions outside its casing would alter its chemical composition completely.

There were endless challenges: sometimes the web would become stiff and hard when it needed to be flexible, and other times a single misstep in the process would mess up the tensile strength, rendering it useless. Not to mention, if the formula didn’t dissolve properly, it would risk being analyzed by someone else. But after months of painstaking work, I finally succeeded.

To get there, I had to dive deep into research on various spiders—their characteristics, habitats, and web production methods. Did you know that spiders are cannibals? These creatures are not team players at all. But in the midst of my research, I discovered my new favorite: the golden orb spider. Its web is the strongest, and I became fascinated by it. My parents, noticing my obsession, even got me a pet golden orb weaver spider, which I named Robin.

I joked about feeding Robin my blood to augment it, but I’ve seen too many horror movies to actually try something that stupid. Still, I did take inspiration from its web to create my own version: the GoldLine web. This web reflects light, giving off a golden shine, and its tensile strength is off the charts. I even used a permanent version of the formula to create a multi-helicoidal layered bulletproof vest. It’s flexible, lightweight, and doesn’t restrict movement—perfect for what will become my armor. When I experimented with thinning it out to strand-like widths, it turned into a lethal wire weapon, capable of cutting like razor wire. Good to know for future use.

I also combined the GoldLine web with graphene to create a super-strong, semi-force-absorbent web composite. I designed it specifically with the Hulk in mind—something that could at least slow him down. It should work on other super-strong individuals as well, while those without such strength would just have to wait for it to dissolve. That is, unless they have some kind of phasing ability.

The only downside is that without specialized tools and the right conditions, it’s impossible to produce. But once exposed to the environment, its chemical composition changes, which is actually a good thing—it prevents copycats from replicating it.

All of my special gadgets are kept in a secret compartment within a secret compartment. The first one, with the fingerprint scanner, is a decoy. It only contains useless items meant to look impressive. It also alerts me if someone unauthorized tries to access it. The real compartment, however, has a bioelectric scanner that sends a signal through my arm and reads the feedback before granting access.

Given my mutated soul, energy orb, and the mysterious lightning-shaped birthmark, my body itself has unique energy characteristics. So unless someone has my exact energy signature and birthmark (good luck replicating that), they won’t get in. Even if someone were a perfect clone, they couldn’t copy my soul. And if anyone tries to brute-force it, the compartment will self-destruct, taking everything inside—and them—with it.

I’ve taken up hacking, computer programming, various forms of engineering, biochemistry, molecular science, and robotics. After devouring an absurd number of books and spending months honing my skills, I can confidently say I’ve become an expert in these fields. I’m not quite a master yet, but I’m close. Being a genius in the Marvel universe makes perfect sense, and it’s nothing short of heavenly.

Just imagine being a super genius—your 20% effort is equivalent to an average person’s 120%. Now think about what you can achieve when you give 120%.

Many companies offer bounties for finding vulnerabilities in their systems and products, and this became my honey pot. The best part? I can stay completely anonymous online and still make money. I don’t have a bank account, but I do have a cryptocurrency account, so I get paid in coins and other forms of digital currency.

Being a scientist isn’t cheap, and all of this is in preparation for the Iron Man blueprints I plan to steal, not to mention the upcoming Hulk situation. With a smirk, I went back to work on my most important project yet.

Three months later, in May, it all went down. Watching Tony in his Iron Man suit made me fanboy hard, especially during his epic battle against Warmonger. It was an incredible sight, even if I had to watch it on a computer screen. Why wasn’t I on-site? Like hell I’d go anywhere near Midtown Manhattan tonight.

See, I knew the start of the MCU was about to kick off when I saw the news of Tony’s attack by terrorists and his subsequent escape. I went around Stark Industries planting my microbots throughout the area while Tony was still in captivity. I imagined Stane was too happy with himself, thinking he now owned Stark Industries, to care much about security.

I even managed to get inside once by telling security I needed to use the bathroom. I did indeed make a dump—a dump of beacons, in case something interfered with the microbot signals. Who would stop a nice, curious-looking kid who spoke politely? No one, that’s who. Dial up the childish charm to 11, and people let their guard down.

I spent a lot of time and money building these microbots, and mastering robotics and engineering was crucial. They were top of the line, filled with all the necessary tech, and the Queen—my most stealthy and vicious computer virus—was at their core. It was programmed to self-destruct after the mission, ensuring no traces were left behind.

Mastering all this knowledge wasn’t easy, but smart work pays off. I’m not being paranoid—just prepared. Batman would be proud.

As the fight continued, my bots were already in motion. Thanks to my multitasking ability, I could focus on multiple things simultaneously. Back to business—if Stane had a hard copy of his Iron Monger suit’s blueprints, he must also have soft copies. Sending bots to retrieve them was far less conspicuous than doing it myself.

This was 2008, and while computer security might seem impenetrable to most, I had ample time to prepare. I knew this was coming and was ready. Plus, Stane isn’t Tony Stark. He’s not a Stark-level genius, so his security was hackable.

I remembered a scene from the movie where Pepper hacks Stane’s computer for Tony, which leads to this very fight.

In the building’s lowest level, workers and scientists were scrambling to escape, screaming and running for their lives. It was absolute pandemonium. In the movie, the building was empty, but this is the real world—things don’t always match up. Scientists, especially, tend to work until they drop from exhaustion.

One of my bots spotted Pepper hurrying toward the large reactor. I was on a schedule, so I had to hurry. On the first floor, I found Stane’s office—his name was right on the door. Perfect. Now, was the power still connected? Yes!

“Queen, onto the computer,” I thought. The Queen was essential, the brain and heart of the microbots. She had the virus necessary for this mission. She connected to the USB interface and began the project.

50%...100%...Files located.

“Commencing extraction and download…” The progress bar ticked upward. I was sweating bullets. Thank God Stane wasn’t Tony because his defenses were only moderate against a genius-level hacker.

69%...77%...

Tony and Stane were now fighting on the building’s roof, with Stane taking his sweet time monologuing. Typical villain.

88%...92%...

Tony was pulling out components from the Warmonger suit. I was getting nervous.

98%...100%.

“Operation successful,” the alert read as I received the files on my screen.

“Yes!” I shouted internally. “I got the files!” But I didn’t celebrate just yet. I needed to cover my tracks.

“Self-destruct initiated,” I commanded. The virus destroyed itself, leaving no trace behind. The Queen exited the office and self-destructed, followed by the rest of the bots, one after another. The last bot captured a moment of the reactor blasting Warmonger to bits before the building was engulfed in flames. With all traces clean, I disconnected my computer from the network and looked at the files. Perfect.

Now, I could celebrate. My first target was accomplished!

I pumped my fist in the air, giddy with excitement. I may be affected by my childish tendencies after all. But that’s okay—the lab is soundproofed.

I headed upstairs to see my parents glued to the news, watching the coverage of the explosion at Stark Industries.

“Hello, world,” I whispered to myself.

Next target: Blonsky.