Spider-Man SI

200 gems = bonus chapter

Fully support the story at:

patreon.com/FanFictionPremium

***

As you get older, holidays start to lose their former brightness. You no longer count the weeks until your birthday. You don't look forward to New Year's Eve with its tangerines and presents. You know that no one will leave candy under your pillow on St Nicholas Day, because you moved out of your parents' house a long time ago, and there's no one to do it for you but them.

I was no exception in that regard. Also slowly grew up, and lost that intimate childish connection with holiday magic. But sometimes you willy-nilly plunge back into that atmosphere, and rejoice in all sorts of trifles like a five-year-old!

This was such a day.

I was lying in my bed. The midday sun was shining outside the window. The door to my room was sealed with a solid layer of slightly thinned cobwebs. Behind me, a naked blonde beauty lay naked and had her arm around me. Our naked bodies were touching, and my slightly sleep-deprived brain was lazily drawing in my head an attractive 3D model of the scene from the outside.

It had been a good night.

A night of love and reconciliation. I missed Gwen a lot. My girlfriend, as it turned out, also held back the tension for a long time, and having got to the commissar's body she did whatever she wanted with it. Yes, at times like this, you realise that little break-ups and quarrels are worth it. No matter what anyone says, there are no two people who complement each other perfectly. There is always room for minor conflicts, misunderstandings, and inconsistencies in character. But at the moment when you and your soul mate are in the same bed, all these boundaries are erased. And it feels especially good after such small quarrels.

The girl behind me stretched, and yawned sweetly.

- Good morning,' she said quietly.

- Morning, sweetheart.

Gwen pressed herself even tighter against me, and I felt my body temperature rise sharply. She suddenly ran her finger along the small scar on the back of my neck, at the base of my skull.

- Peter, are you sure it was worth it?

My romantic fuse had faded slightly. I was still in a great mood, but I realised that the night's fun was not going to continue. Turning to face the girl, I looked directly into her deep, beautiful eyes. For a moment I saw a shadow there, and my imagination immediately drew the evil face of Venom. But by sheer force of will, I suppressed the gloom.

The symbiote that even now hides in the girl's body has very little in common with the local Venom. Let's just say they share common roots, nothing more. Gwendolyn's mother Stacy, together with my father worked on the symbiote project. But at some point their paths diverged and since then, the methods and results of their work began to differ greatly. I don't know all the details, but research shows that Gwen's symbiote is a simple unintelligent tool, while my father's Venom had a distorted, diseased mind.

- You can't be one hundred percent sure of anything,' I said softly, bringing my thoughts back to the right direction.

- It's... it's not dangerous? - The girl asked worriedly. - Are you sure?

- If I had researched this technology myself, it would still be possible to assume that I missed something or didn't take it into account. But you know I haven't worked alone for a long time. It's not productive.

- I'm sorry, but Stark doesn't seem like a very reliable guy. And that German of yours looks like some kind of film villain, too.

- Looks can be deceiving,' I shrug. - Maybe you're right in some ways, but no matter how you look at it, they know what they're doing.

Gwen puckered her lips a little, but didn't say anything. Instead of words, she just moved closer to me and tucked her head under my chin. We lay like that, lazy to get out of bed and indulge in idleness. The last week had been a busy one, and we felt entitled to at least a couple of extra hours of rest.

Inhaling the familiar smell of shampoo, I found myself smiling like a child for the umpteenth time.

To be honest, my good mood wasn't just because I'd made up with Stacy. It's all about the gifts I so unexpectedly got my hands on. Maybe Reverend Stryker's middle name is Nicholas. Well, how else do you explain the amount of goodies I found and scavenged from his lair?

Speaking of the obvious, the first thing I'd like to mention is, of course, adamantium. The vessel with boiling, potentially indestructible metal I took away from his base in the first place. I sweated a little to connect the vessel to the systems of my heavy suit, but in the end I managed to maintain the right temperature and prevent the substance from cooling down. So he carried it all the way to New York.

In the meantime, the adamantium was being studied. There wasn't a hell of a lot of it. Just deplorably little. There wasn't enough for anything serious. And there was certainly no ready-made recipe for making it at Stryker's base. On the other hand, it would be odd if there was. So, adamantium is available, but I haven't decided to make something out of it yet. It's a major dilemma.

I could make some kind of weapon like a sword or something, but I've never been a swordsman. What am I gonna do with a sleeper like that? Pick my teeth? And there wasn't enough substance for a full suit armour. Even if you poured millimetre plates, it wouldn't be enough. But Tony Stark was also very interested in adamantium. Indestructible armour, that's his idea.

But, as they say, Stryker wasn't the only one rich in adamantium.

His prosthetic was as interesting as an indestructible alloy. At least its value in the here and now was much higher. The point is that William had been studying the technology behind the design of the artificial arm for years. The man didn't have a tenth of the brilliant intellect of Stark or even me, ahem. But he had resources, and the minds of good scientists. The sectarian was tacitly supported by people in the government, and given everything on a platter. Well, maybe not everything, but adamantium alone.

To summarise, the man knew a lot about his prosthetic, and when Jarvis hacked into his computer system, we got our hands on all that research. From all this, it looks like Stryker really did see the future. Or rather, he was extracting information about it from the creature that came from that future. Stark was in any case ready to admit that those technologies that were used in the mechanical arm of the reverend could not be realised in the present. They literally came from the future. Stryker's diaries were sketchy and incomplete, but from them we learn that at one point he encountered a crippled and disabled robot in his path. The man was able to examine it, and subsequently transplant himself with its arm.

The robot was called Nimrod, and was a mutant hunter that actually came from the future. A perfect killing machine, with the help of technology could rebuild itself and counteract most negative influences as effectively as possible for its time. That is, if Cyclops shot at her with his laser, which is not a laser at all, then Nimrod produced a rebuild and easily survived the impact. If Magneto tried to crush a pile of scrap metal, he again reorganised and surrounded himself with a field that counteracted the magnetism.

Of course, it had its weaknesses. So the main one was that under a large number of diverse influences, he simply did not have time to adequately reorganise. Its effectiveness diminished. Full-fledged, efficient Nimrod was really able to resist a couple of dozens of different influences at a time. So we were lucky in that Stryker only replaced one arm.

The only thing that's a little disappointing is that I won't be able to get to the rest of Nimrod. The robot was far more advanced than Stryker realised. The man had somehow left his treasure behind the armoured door of the vault and hadn't visited it for months. That had been enough for the damaged mechanism to reboot itself and, realising its condition, effectively rebuild itself for escape.

Definitely a shame. But even what Stark and I had left was enough. Not only had we mastered the new rebuilding technology, but based on future technology, we'd increased the overall effectiveness of our new suits by about twenty per cent!

But even that wasn't all Stryker had to offer, or rather Nimrod, of course. The robot had one specific defence against a particular type of mutant and other such forces. It was immune to telepathy. William found a special miniature chip in the robot's body. Without much thought, he implanted it just under his skin. A bold, borderline insane move. In fact, it could have ended very badly, but luck was on the Reverend's side at that moment, and his body did not reject the foreign body.

It was because of the chip that Frost not only couldn't get inside his head, but she couldn't see the man at all. He was like a ghost to her abilities. Him and the handful of people close to him for whom the technology had been recreated.

It was the cherry on the cake that made any celebration complete.

I rejoiced like a child. Seriously. Such gifts and in such quantity!

If earlier our suits could be called just armoured tins that could fly, now we moved into the category of tins with a customisable energy shield. And of course now we had adamantium. Not much, but rest assured we'll do our best to unravel all the secrets of this miracle material.

And to top it off, I didn't have to find Magneto and ask him for the technology he used to build his helmet. For I have a similar thing! Heh.

Or should I meet the Jew? Hmm, interesting thought in its own way.

As nice as it is to lie in bed with your favourite person, all good things come to an end sooner or later. So I had to get out of Gwen's warm embrace and pack. For today, I cancelled all the plans I could get away from. Unfortunately, there were some things I couldn't ignore. In theory, maybe. But then I'd have to listen to so much whining, I'd rather spend an hour or two.

Stark's Tower greeted me in all its pompous splendour. Its owner was sitting on a sofa in the small reception hall, sipping his whiskey thoughtfully. Judging by the nearly empty bottle, he had been drinking here for a long time.

His shoulder-length left arm was covered with the glove of his new armour. The man twirled his armoured fingers thoughtfully. Small golden balls of energy glowed near his palm a few centimetres away. I chuckled, remembering how much effort we had to make to change the colour of the projected energy from a shameful pink to something more appropriate. Stark had chosen a noble gold. I opted for a subdued red.

- Hey, philanthropist and genius, have you forgotten we have an important meeting tonight? Maybe you should have got drunk afterwards.

He looked at me with a slightly tipsy look and shook his head negatively.

- No, no, I've been holding out too long already. I need to blow off a little steam. What are you doing here so early?

- Are you saying I was the first to arrive?

- No, Fury flew in an hour ago. She's making a deal with Pepper. Remember, boy, women are truly evil in the flesh. They always want a taste of our man blood!

- Are you really drunk, or are you just pretending to be? - I ask doubtfully.

Stark sighed heavily, put the glass with the unfinished whiskey on the table and answered:

- I haven't even started.

- Good, because I was beginning to think I'd left my bed so early for nothing. I wanted to talk to you.

- About what? - He asked with a wry smile, still playing with his new glove.

- About your depression.

Tony's been really out of sorts the last two days. He's been going to all sorts of parties, drinking more than ever, and generally trying to drown out dangerous thoughts. I wasn't a telepath yet, but even so I knew him well enough to understand the reason for this sudden moral decline.

- I was depressed and didn't notice it? - He smiled a slightly embarrassed smile.

- Stop it, you know perfectly well what I mean. You and I have worked together long enough for me to recognise your style. Nimrod's hand, which we've been researching lately, reminded me of something from the beginning. Of course, this future technology is beyond the realm of reason, but even so, I recognised the pattern. Not today, but ten years from now, you could easily reproduce it. Just you. There are enough smart guys in the world, but some of the technical solutions are very typical of Tony Stark.

The man soured, his famous smile faded and faded.

- Even if you've noticed,' he stretched out. - So you can see why I'm sitting here alone and sipping whiskey.

- I think Octavius noticed, too, but let's be honest, he doesn't care much about the moral turmoil of anyone but himself,' I paced the room and sat down on the couch next to him. - Come on, spit it out. I'm ready to be your silent psychiatrist.

- What's the point of that? - he asked sadly. - Since you know me so well, you should understand everything without words.

- That's true, but you know, when words are spoken aloud, they say they make a person feel better.

- You're not gonna let up, are you?

- We've got an hour before our scheduled meeting, so yeah, I'm not gonna let up.

Reluctantly, Stark began to put into words what was tormenting him and what I was guessing. It was actually quite prosaic. The technology on which Nimrod's arm had been built was indeed Stark's signature. It was easy to assume that in the future he built this robot. In fact, that's what bothered the billionaire. Well, you know, not every day you learn that in the future will become a man that will create robotic mutant hunters.

To put it bluntly, Stark felt guilty for a transgression he had not yet committed. The man didn't consider himself a racist or anything like that. He treated everyone who had powers beyond the control of ordinary people with an even hand. His friendship with me was a prime example of that. He didn't care that I could lift a car over my head without the help of any fancy suits. I can do it. He didn't hate me or praise me because of that or any of my other abilities. Tony got so close to me in the first place because of my intelligence, and maybe my chutzpah. The fact that I was a mutant or whatever didn't matter to him.

He judged other people the same way. He didn't care about their superpowers, but he valued intelligence and character traits. The latter was hard to believe. But he did. At least that's what he claimed.

Consequently, Tony couldn't imagine circumstances that would encourage him to make robots that specialised in catching and possibly killing mutants. Hell! Even when he was captured, badly injured, barely alive, he didn't give in to the terrorists' threats. He didn't make weapons for them, but instead pulled off a grand con and escaped from the enemy!

But the facts remained.

Something in the future had moved my friend to do such a thing, and now he was afraid of tomorrow. He was afraid of his new self in that future.

- How did it go? Did it get easier? - I'm caring.

- Fuck you!' Stark snapped at me and reached for his glass again.

But the web that shot from my wrist was much faster. Gently pulling on it, I managed not even to spill the expensive drink.

- All right, don't be mad. I'm just kidding, trying to defuse the situation. Apparently, as always, my jokes aren't the best.

- That's right,' he said vindictively. - Jokes aren't your strong suit!

- Huh, now I'm starting to recognise old Stark. Way to go, mate. And don't throw that-' I caught the bottle of liquor and hummed thoughtfully. - Hmm, you could sell it on eBay for good money. Hey, Tony, why don't you put your autograph on it? I'll sell it for three times the price.

The man gave me a few more menacing glances, and then finally he couldn't take it anymore. A slightly nervous laugh came from his side.

- Okay, I admit it,' he said after a good laugh, 'talking about problems does help to lighten the mood a bit.

- That's great!

The scientist removed the armoured glove from his hand and placed it on the table in front of him. He looked at it as if it were a poisonous and extremely dangerous snake.

- Yeah, yeah, but that doesn't change anything. Thanks for trying to keep me on track, but it would be even cooler if you told me what to do next.

- Are you serious? You think I'm just gonna give you step-by-step instructions?

- Hell, I'm as serious as I've ever been! - He grinned. - What do I have to do to stop a future like this from happening?

- You don't have to do anything,' I said quietly.

- What?' Stark interjected, as if bumping into a lorry.

- I'm telling you, if you don't want to make mutant hunters, just don't make them. That's all the potatoes. I don't know what happened in your future that you built Nimrod, but now you know you could do something dangerous, so you'll do anything to avoid it.

- Peter, you do realise it's all just lip service. What if the future can't be changed? What if it's as static as the past? Then I'll do it anyway, you know? No matter how hard I try.

You can't be sure of anything. But the chance that the future in this world is not predetermined is very high. Some circumstantial evidence I have from my past life suggests that there could be a whole bunch of different futures. I'm pretty sure I remember moments in cartoons where the characters were fixing and remaking the future.

Pretty sure.

- I don't think that's true,' I said, trying to sound more confident. - But you don't have to take my word for it. Why don't you check it out for yourself, huh?

- What do you mean?

- Well, you're a fucking genius, right? Go and study this moment, learn everything you can about time! Work out the theories, test them, don't try too hard or you'll create some kind of time paradox. If you can create them, of course.

- That's... an outsider's perspective...

Stark hovered, pondering my words. Now he had a goal to achieve. Whatever you say, I never doubted the possibility of time travel. At least in this world. A lot of comic book writers play on this and Marvel is no exception. There are even characters that specialise in time travel. Remember the same Kable - a mutant from the future that not once flashed in cartoons and other sources. And if it's possible, then Tony's gonna get results sooner or later. Maybe he'll build some kind of time machine, heh.

'Jarvis?' - I mentally call out to the AI that's in almost constant contact with me.

'At your service, sir.'

'You're a reasonable bloke aren't you? I hope you realise that making killer robots is a bad idea?'

'Absolutely, sir. It indirectly goes against my directives.'

'Look, I know you can't resist a direct order, but please do everything you can to avoid such a development.'

'I will do my best, sir.'

Good. I'll talk to Pepper Potts about it, and I'll have a second line of defence ready. I hope it doesn't come to that, but you'd better be ready.

While I was thinking, we had a visitor. Pretty Fury and her entourage: Captain America, Black Widow and her partner Falcon Eye. No superhero costumes, just civilian clothes. Oh, right. Nick had said she wanted the meeting to be as open and friendly as possible. And to that end, all the invitees could come without their fancy and stylish costumes. No masks, so to speak. Well, it's understandable, most of those whom Nick has absentmindedly enrolled in the Avengers don't hide their real names.

Activating the Holograph, I changed my appearance, 'dressing up' in a stylish classic suit, just like at that memorable meeting with JJ. All that was left of the Spider-Man costume was the mask and gloves.

Steve was smiling amiably. Natasha gave the impression of utmost concentration and professionalism. Clint was imitating his friend, but he wasn't doing it very well, a traitorous sarcastic smirk slipping across his face every now and then.

The head of S.H.I.E.L.D. also looked tired and tortured. Undoubtedly, such a position imposed a lot of duties, which could not be warded off by the phrase - 'my working day is over'. Looking at her recognisable face I was convinced only once again that a manager should not give up so much on his position. You should always look for the right people. Otherwise, the work will drive you away, as you can drink.

After greeting us, the guests settled down on numerous sofas. We just have to wait for a couple more people and we can start the meeting.

What am I doing here? I'd like to know. After all, I promised that I would not take part in all this buffoonery, that I was called by some smart guy initiative 'Avengers'. But I guess I'm just a normal person who doesn't mind changing his mind and reassessing his values. And Nick promised that some interesting personalities would be present at this meeting. Grudgingly I agreed to come, but insisted that I'd sit on the sidelines and just listen, heh.

I didn't have to wait long. Literally a few minutes later, the redheaded Potts brought the real god himself to us. Thor Odinson in all his blond splendour. He greeted us all with a resounding hello, slapped men on the back with a friendly fist, and kissed the outside of women's hands with all the elegance he could muster. Probably Stark would have made some stupid joke and started to compete with the blond for women's attention, but now Tony was somewhere far away, and paid little attention to the crowd of guests. Didn't notice it at all, to be honest. I think I'd overdone it, and overloaded his brain. It's unpleasant, but not too unpleasant. I'll tell him all about it later, if he doesn't wake up and come back to reality.

Thor told us some long and bearded joke or just a funny situation from the life of Asgardians. Everyone listened attentively, except Stark, of course. Especially attentively the agents of S.H.I.T. were reeling on their ears, they understand that they have a lot of reports to write later, so they memorise them verbatim. Personally, I listened to Odinson half-heartedly. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy, and his colourful descriptions of battles with ice giants and other enemies were amusing, but I had other things on my mind. I had not come here to meet Thor.

The man I needed honoured us with his attention a little late for the appointed time.

He entered the room, pulling up the sleeves of his slightly oversized jacket. The man looked to be in his late forties and not very presentable. You know, if Tony Stark, even drunk as hell, still seemed like a respectable young man whose shoelaces alone cost more than your entire outfit, Bruce Benner looked like a slightly powdered homeless man. And it wasn't just the clothes. The posture, the bruises under his eyes, the look of a man who wasn't sure not only about the next day, but even tonight. It's a sad sight. When a man gives up on himself, it's always striking.

- I'm sorry, I think I was the last to arrive,' Bruce smiled awkwardly.

- Not at all, Mr Benner,' Fury said softly. - You're not late. A couple more guests are due to attend our meeting.

- We're already here,' it sounded from somewhere on the other side of the room.

Everyone in the room tensed, and some even jumped up from their seats. Ha! Despite the fact that most of us came in civilian clothes, but as it turned out, all of us had weapons. It was just me and Fury. Even Stark had dropped his brooding. But that's not surprising. If Jarvis had contacted me, he had managed to reach his creator as well. It wasn't that the AI was panicking, it was just politely informing me that the room had been inexplicably entered by unknown people.

I almost jumped up from the couch, too, but my spider sense was silent, which meant there was no immediate danger. Instead, I strained the sensors of my suit, filtered the different images on the mask lenses, and in the thermal spectrum saw only two small insect-sized spots on the side where the voice had come from. Just as I was about to zoom in on these insignificant figures, they began to grow rapidly.

Oh, that's it!

Relaxing, I switched off the visual filters and saw the appearance of Ant-Man and his faithful companion, Wasp.

- Now we're all here,' Fury said with a neutral expression on her face.

A man in a red hero suit with dark inserts and a distinctive metal helmet on his head appeared on the empty couch out of nowhere. A small female figure hovered over his right shoulder. She did not wish to grow to her full height, stopping just short of ten centimetres. Her costume was a lovely dark dress with yellow elements. She wore long yellow gloves on her hands. Transparent glasses protected her eyes, and her ears were hidden behind massive headphones that were crowned with long antennas sticking up cheerfully. Large translucent insect wings fluttered rapidly behind her back.

- Man... hmm, ant,' the girl said with a squeaky voice, her arms out to her sides amusedly, 'I think we're the only ones in costume. Anything you want to tell me about that?

- I'm sorry, darling, I think I've been told something like that, but I've forgotten,' the voice from under the helmet sounded unusual, as if it were an ant flicking its jaws rather than a man speaking. However, let's be honest - I've never heard how ants communicate, it's all my sick imagination makes such associations. - But maybe it's for the best. The mystery of identity.

- Hey! Look at my face! Do you think these see-through glasses can hide my secret identity?

- Oh, I hadn't thought of that.

- Yeah, and the fact that the invitation to this meeting was brought to our house,' snorted the inch girl and a small yellow lightning bolt flew from her hand pointing accusingly at the man in the red tights.

- That tickles! - Ant-Man jerked back in his seat.

The wasp snorted and spun round in the air, turning in our direction.

- Hello, everyone!' she waved her hand vigorously, and fixed the lush skirt of her dress, 'Some of you know, but for those who see me for the first time, I'll introduce myself. Ahem, you can call me Osa, or Janet van Dyne for my civilian identity. I'm a budding superhero who can shrink and fly and shoot these yellow lightning bolts, here!

- Janet, I've explained - they're not lightning bolts at all,' her partner said somewhat doomedly.

- Oh, yes. Let me also introduce to you my, um, friend, - the girl flew closer to us and put her palm to her mouth and whispered loudly: - or he wouldn't realise it himself. Well, it's Ant-Man, or Hank Pym.

- Pym?! - exclaimed Benner in surprise.

When the last members of our meeting today had identified themselves, Bruce was still standing near the door, and instead of getting into a fighting stance like the rest of the group and preparing for a possible fight, he stepped back a little. He clearly didn't want to get into any trouble. That's good, it means he realises the danger of the monster that lives inside him.

But when he heard a familiar name, he seemed really surprised, and stepped a few steps forward. Yes, I understand his feelings and his look as if he'd met, well, maybe not an idol, but someone you respect a lot. It may sound strange, but Benner, being an excellent scientist himself, truly admires Pim. Why am I so sure of that? Even setting aside my empathy, I can easily recognise the significance of his gaze. After all, I'm probably wearing the exact same face underneath my mask right now.

- Yes, Mr Benner, it's me,' Hank took his helmet off his head with a sigh. - It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I've always admired your work on gamma radiation. It's a shame you've disappeared from all public sources lately.

I don't remember how it was in the original sources, but in the reality in which I found myself, Hank Pym was known in narrow scientific circles as an excellent theoretical scientist. For clarity, he could be compared to Tony. I don't know why I'm comparing everyone to him today, but it's really appropriate here. Who is Tony Stark? I know a lot of people have that famous phrase rolling around right now, but put it aside. If judged objectively, he's a genius who is afraid to use his wits. He's created his own outfit, but he's afraid to go beyond heavy metal. Doesn't do anything radically new and unique anymore, just perfects the old. That's not bad. Most of the smart guys do the same thing. But you can justify them by saying they can't do anything else.

Stark can. But he won't.

Hank Pym, to me, was radically different from Stark. Perhaps if he didn't make billions from his genius mind, it was because he didn't want to. I don't know about the experimental part of his work, but Pym was known as an excellent theoretical scientist. His scientific papers were regularly published in specialised publications or on internet resources. Once on a forum I saw his post where the man confessed that he shared with the public only the smallest of things, research that is potentially the least dangerous to mankind. There was an unprecedented amount of shit under his post where most of the people who posted couldn't believe that Hank could be even smarter than they thought he was. In fact, I was close to that thought myself.

With my confession, I unfortunately couldn't list a lot of really brilliant people from the Marvel world. Tony Stark and Reed Richards, I guess, and that's about it. The reality was a little different. Tony was smart, no doubt about it. But there was little information about the rubber man Richards in scientific circles. Maybe he was a genius too, but I couldn't find any of his really good works except for student papers.

But Pym was a household name. Albeit in a very small circle of people, but still. The things he published were sometimes so incredible that you only understood the title and not always. Now you see, don't you? A lot of people thought he was crazy. But I think he was just ahead of his time. Like Nimrod he must have come from the future or something.

Oh yes, and most importantly. Of course, in the comics and cartoon series, he's primarily known for discovering the Pima particles. But here, it felt like he was interested in and studying everything. Chemistry and physics, programming and cybernetics, biology and genetics. Hell, I've even seen an article where he discussed the architecture of the future!

This is the man who got me hooked on Fury. Pim and a little bit of Benner. But I wasn't that interested in the latter. Bruce was certainly a gifted scientist, but his area of interest included mostly just gamma radiation. Personally, I kept the subject at a certain distance from me for the time being. I didn't want to study it, and I didn't have time. Pim, on the other hand, was of direct practical interest to me.

- Now that we're all here,' the head of S.H.I.E.L.D. took the floor, 'let's begin our first official meeting as Avengers.