Spider-Man swung through the city. It was early evening, and the sun was just setting. There was still some snow left on the ground from the recent snowstorm. Most of it had been plowed to allow for cars and pedestrians to get around on the roads and sidewalks, respectively, but there was still enough on the curbs, and other random areas for a few kids to make snowballs and throw them at each other.
Spidey swung past all of that. He headed for a higher area in the city . . . an area few others could ever occupy. He landed on the roof of a medium sized building. He looked down, and observed the city.
So many people out there. Most of them totally oblivious to many of the most spectacular events to ever occur on Earth. They don't realize exactly what the superheroes do for them. They also don't realize who is truly evil in this city. They'll never know the truth about the buyout of the Planet or what really happened at Osborn Industries.
Mostly because they don't want to know. It won't matter if any of the truth comes out, they'll still try to rationalize what they can believe, and forget the rest, or ignore it.
But I don't care. If they miss out on any of it, that's their problem. Spidey jumped off the roof, and shot another webline, swinging across the city once more.
"Whoa," he said, looking down. "Mugging in progress, better help out." He jumped off the webline, and grabbed on to the nearest building. He slowly crawled down closer to the mugging.
"Get off of me!" the victim screamed. She was a young woman, no older than thirty. Her blonde hair was coming down into her face.
The man refused to let go. He already had one arm around her, restricting her movement. His other hand reached for the knife in his belt. Just as his hand touched the handle, something sticky hit his hand. He looked down, and then up.
"Hiya!" Spidey said, with a slight wave. "I couldn't help but notice that you were mugging this nice lady, and looked like you could use some help."
Spidey jumped down, somersaulted in the air, and landed in the mugger's face. "Oh, and by help, I meant the rehabilitation kind."
The mugger used his free hand to grab Spidey's ankle and throw him backwards. Spidey flipped in the air, and landed on the mugger's waist, knocking him back down. The wallcrawler reached down and grabbed the mugger's shirt. He tossed him up in the air, and then fired a large amount of webbing, suspending the mugger in a cocoon between the building and nearest light pole.
"Spider-Man!" the woman exclaimed. "Thank you so much!"
"Just doing my duty, ma'am," Spidey replied.
The woman reached into her purse, and pulled a bill out of her wallet. "Here," she said. "Take this."
Spidey held up his hands. "No, really, I can't."
"I insist," the lady said, placing the bill in Spidey's hand, then forcing his fingers over it. Spidey looked down at his hand.
"No, really - " he started. He looked up, and the woman was gone. "Hmm. Might as well keep it now." Spidey opened his hand and looked at the bill closely. "I don't believe it! A hundred dollars!"
"Believe it, Peter," a voice from above said.
Spidey looked up. On the same building that he himself had been crawling on just a few minutes before, an older man with white hair was sitting on the side. No, not sitting. Sticking. Like Spider-Man.
Spidey couldn't decided what scared him more - the fact that this guy knew his name, that he had crept up on Spidey without activating his spider-sense, or that this guy was sticking to the wall like he could.
"Wh-who are you?" Spidey asked.
The man jumped down. "You can call me Ezekiel." With that, he jumped up in the air, and proceed to jump from rooftop to rooftop. Spidey soon followed.
"Wait a minute!" he exclaimed. "You're not getting off that easily!"
"I know," Ezekiel replied. "That's why I was hoping you'd follow me. I want to talk to you, Peter."
"How do you know who I am?" Spidey asked as he leapt across a street.
"I have my ways. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
"Like I can trust a total stranger."
"Well, if we spend enough time talking, then I won't be a total stranger . . . "
"Don't play games with me, Ezekiel. Tell me who you are, and why you seem to have my powers!"
Ezekiel came to a stop on a rooftop. He turned to face Spider-Man. "I can't tell you everything, but I do have a question for you. How did you get your powers?"
"A spider bit me," Spidey replied. "It had been hit with radiation, and then it bit me."
"So, you're assuming that the radiation gave you the powers."
"Yeah."
"How do you know that you weren't supposed to get the powers already, or that the spider could have given those powers to you without the radiation?"
"Are you suggesting that I may be a mutant, and that the radiation just triggered it."
"No, I'm suggesting that you think a bit more about your origin, and what it might have to do with your parents."
Now Spidey was a little ticked. He gritted his teeth. "What did you say?"
"I know about your parents as well, Peter. You really should be careful about trying to find them. You may not like what you find."
"Is that a threat?"
"No. It's a mere fact."
"And what do you know about my parents?"
"Enough to make me wonder exactly how much of the accident that made you Spider-Man was an accident."
Spidey had had enough. He pulled his right arm back, and let it sail into Ezekiel's face. Ezekiel stumbled back. "Well, I guess I had that coming." He walked to the side of the building. "I'll come back later, when you're ready. Ta." He leapt off the roof, and landed on the roof across the street.
Spidey fell to his knees.
"He knows more than I do? But how?"
"So, this weird old guy suddenly appeared, and started saying all this stuff, like he knew you?" MJ asked.
"Yup," Peter replied. He was laying on his bed, his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. MJ was sitting next to him. "The fact that he knows who I am could put a lot of people into danger. Aunt May, you, Victor, the people at the Planet . . . "
"Tiger, I wouldn't worry about it," MJ said. "If he really wanted to hurt you, he would have done something already that would let you know it, right?"
"Maybe."
"I think he was just trying to scare you a little, and maybe make you think."
"Or warn me."
"That too. But about what?"
"About my parents, about me, I'm not sure. I couldn't tell who he was working for."
"Working for?"
"At first, when he mentioned something about my parents, I thought he might be from S.H.I.E.L.D. But after the whole thing, I don't think so."
"He's a third party."
"But it seems like he knows the truth, but instead of telling me, is pointing me in a very vague direction."
Both were silent for a moment.
"Well, I don't know about all this stuff, but right now, I'm tired of talking about that guy," MJ said. "Let's talk about something else."
"Like what?"
"Hmm. How about this?" MJ asked as she leaned over and kissed him.
"I don't believe it! Harry Osborn!" Jimmy exclaimed.
"Hey, Jimmy," Harry replied. "How've ya been?"
"I've been doing fine. But what about you? No one's seen you for weeks!"
"Yeah, ever since the accident. I've been hiding."
"Hiding?"
"Okay, maybe not hiding. Quarantined. I wanted to make sure that I was over the Oz."
"I see. Did they ever find your dad?"
Harry shook his head. "I'm pretty sure he's dead."
"So where exactly have you been?"
"A safehouse that my dad had built."
"Oh. So, are you going to need any help catching up?"
"Most likely. I have a meeting with the principal in a few minutes to discuss my situation."
"Okay," Jimmy said. "Have fun. I'll see you around?"
"Definitely," Harry replied, walking off.
Jimmy turned around and saw Peter and MJ standing by Peter's locker.
"Peter! MJ!" he exclaimed.
"Jimmy!" Peter replied. "What's up with you this morning?"
"Harry's back."
"He is?"
"Just saw him."
"How is he?" Peter asked.
"He seemed fine to me."
"Good. I was a little worried when we didn't see him for a while, especially knowing his condition beforehand."
"But something seemed . . . I don't know. He seemed a little different," Jimmy said. "It's like he was hiding something from me."
"I wouldn't be surprised," Peter replied. "After all, he was gone for a few weeks."
"We better get to class," MJ said.
That afternoon, Spider-Man was in action again, this time stopping a car heist. He had already tied one guy up, and was starting on the second guy, when the third guy suddenly sails back over his head. He looked up as he webbed the guy in his hands, and then looked over at the newest arrival.
"And who the hell are you?" Spidey asked. He was looking at a woman, slightly shorter than he was with short black hair. Judging by her physical appearance, Spidey guessed that she was probably no older than thirty. She was wearing what appeared to be a one piece black leather bodysuit that covered her entire body from neck to toe. The only distinguishable feature was a small white spider just above her left breast.
"I was hoping you'd ask," the woman replied. She strolled over to the place where the third car robber had landed, and in one motion, picked him up, and tossed him to the pile that Spider-Man had started. She turned back around. "I am Madame Web."
"You know, I'm getting really tired of strange people popping up out of nowhere," Spidey replied.
"Don't worry, I won't harm you. I'm on your side."
"That's what the other guy said too, but I don't believe him."
"Well, that's up to you. I'm here to prepare you."
"Prepare me? For what?"
"You are headed down a road that will lead to some major decisions. I am here to make sure you make the right ones."
"Enough with the cryptic crap!" Spidey exclaimed. "Can't people just come out of nowhere and give me information straight up anymore?"
Madame Web laughed. "Just be ready."
"I've gotta go."
"I know."
Spidey fired a webline, and swung away. As soon as Madame Web was sure that he couldn't see her, she collapsed to the ground, holding her midsection.
"Must recharge . . . " she whispered as a pinkish mist surrounded her.
And then she was gone.
"I don't get it, Victor," Peter said. "That's two strange people in as many days."
"Something is definitely up," Victor replied. They were both sitting in their usual booth at The Crib. "But that Madame Web person didn't act like she knew your secret identity."
"Either that, or she doesn't care."
"Either way, I'd be careful if I were you. Is there anyway to find out information on these people?"
"I doubt it," Peter answered. "If I did a search on Ezekiel, without a last name to go by, all I'd come up with were a bunch of references to the Bible. And Madame Web . . . I don't know, I just have this feeling. There was something completely strange with her, and definitely not right."
Eighteen years ago, January
Richard Parker opened the door. "Bridge! How are you doing?" he said. "Come in."
"I'm afraid I don't have the time for that luxury," Bridge replied. "I know that you would rather stay at home, especially with your kid, but something has come up."
"What is it? Another outbreak?"
"Not quite. We've received information that makes it appear that the Russians are developing some kind of 'doomsday weapon.' We're not sure if it's built, or if they've just started, but it looks like it could be something that could obliterate half the world if used."
"Can't someone else deal with this?" Parker asked.
"For now, they are, but I've also learned a bit about what they are using the doomsday weapon for."
"What's that?"
"Scarecrow. They want to use it to spread Scarecrow."
Next issue: Answers begin to come, but only raise more questions.