Am I Peter Parker?

Chapter 9: Man...

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Earth-56

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The night breeze caressed Peter Parker's face as he crouched on the roof of the building, his makeshift Bagman suit fluttering lightly in the wind. He had defeated the criminals, prevented further destruction, and yet the weight of responsibility still weighed on his chest.

"Did I do enough?" he thought as his eyes scanned the streets of New York, still calm after the recent battle. The store was surrounded by patrol cars, the sound of sirens mixed with the blue and red lights illuminating the crime scene. The police arrested criminals, but Peter knew the fight didn't end there. It never ended.

His thoughts took him back in time again. To Uncle Ben. To those words that echoed in his mind over and over again, like a mantra: "With great power comes great responsibility."

That phrase had shaped his life. It had been his moral compass, but also his condemnation. Now, being the sole heir to that legacy, he felt the burden of protecting the innocent, but also the constant fear of failing them.

"How fair is this?" he asked himself as he balanced on the edge of the building, ready to disappear into the night like a ghost, just another silhouette in the shadows.

Aunt May's voice echoed in his mind, the woman who had become his greatest support after Ben's death. She had given him hope when all seemed lost. But there was something that even she didn't know: the constant duality of being Peter Parker and being the anonymous vigilante. A hero for the city, a boy with fear in his heart.

Before he jumped, he remembered the voice of Cassandra Webb, that "aunt" he apparently knew since childhood. There was something in her gaze that made him uneasy, as if she saw more than she was saying. Maybe one day he would have to tell her the truth. But for now, he couldn't distract himself. There was someone who needed help, and he would be there to deliver it.

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As he jumped from building to building, adrenaline mixed with the clarity of his thoughts. New York might be dangerous, but it was also his home. Every corner of the city was full of life, of stories, of people who, like him, faced their own battles.

His spider-sense activated, a clear sign of imminent danger. Without a second thought, he let himself be carried away by his instinct, swinging towards the source of that feeling.

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In a matter of minutes, he arrived at a dark and desolate street, far from the bustle of downtown. A group of armed men surrounded a hooded figure who walked slowly, but determinedly, towards them. He was no ordinary citizen. What caught his attention the most was not the confrontation, but the strange feeling emanating from the hooded individual. Something about his energy was unsettling, as if he were about to witness something beyond the ordinary.

Peter, still in his role as a vigilante, watched from the height of a lamppost as the situation unfolded. One of the thugs raised a gun towards the hooded man.

"Stop or we'll blow your head off!" the criminal shouted.

The figure, far from stopping, raised a hand. A blue glow emanated from his palm, and before anyone could react, the criminals fell to the ground, frozen, literally turned into ice statues.

"What the hell...?" Peter whispered, astonished.

The hooded figure slowly lowered his hand and turned around, as if he knew Peter was there.

"You can come out, Bag Man!" said a soft voice that resonated with an eerie serenity.

Peter, taken aback, jumped down to the ground, keeping a safe distance. His instincts told him that this person was no ordinary enemy.

"Who are you?" Peter asked, his voice firmer than he felt inside. It wasn't just a threat he faced; it was something unknown.

The hooded figure let out a small laugh, his hands still shining with the icy glow of the technique he had used. Finally, the hooded figure lowered his hood, revealing a cold face, with sharp features and eyes devoid of any human emotion.

"I'm just another errand boy for the Kingpin," he replied in a sinister tone. "And soon you will be too. With that power you carry, Watchman, you're next on the list."

Peter felt a jolt in his chest. Kingpin. That name brought with it a host of memories and dangers. Kingpin, the most dangerous criminal in New York, was moving the pieces of his criminal empire, and now he seemed to have set his sights on him.

"I am not one of your pawns," Peter replied firmly, preparing his stance for what was to come. "No matter how many you send, I will never join you or a criminal boss."

The figure smiled, but it wasn't a satisfied smile, but one of menace. He extended both hands, and spirals of ice began to form from his palms, which quickly enveloped everything around him, freezing the criminals' rubble and creating an impenetrable circle of cold.

 "You'll have no choice, Bag Man. Either you join us... or you'll be killed." In the blink of an eye, the ground at Peter's feet began to crack, and the ice spread rapidly.

Without thinking, Peter leapt into the sky, throwing his webs to get away from the deadly trap. He knew that the real fight was just beginning, and although the Kingpin was in the shadows, his pawns were still lethal.

 "Then let them come!" Peter shouted, as he prepared to face the cold, deadly enemy that stood before him. . . .