But… It’s me! The real Spider-Man!

Three hours of sleep flew by like the blink of an eye. I woke up feeling broken and completely unrested. My first thought was, "What the hell do I need this school for," but then I remembered the events of the evening and realized that I had to see M.J. today...

I scrolled through my contacts and didn't find the girl's number there, and even my bedroom window didn't face her room like in the last world, so I'd have to leave a little early and wait outside. Why didn't I think to get her number last night?!

Swearing in a low voice, I got up and made my way to the bathroom. To my surprise, the guy in the mirror didn't look half as awful as I felt. And the shower and breakfast were able to get me back on my feet, and I almost felt alive.

I gathered my things, pen and notebook, and went out on the porch to get some coffee, watch the news on my phone, and wait for my roommate to show up. Nothing sensational had leaked to the press that night. Remembering the handbook I saw on M.J.'s computer yesterday, I decided to look up information on the prominent men of this world. Even with the total skewed sex ratio and the consumerist worldview of most men, there had to be exceptions. There couldn't have been any exceptions.

Music, painting, literature, poetry and philosophy turned out to be the most popular activities among men. I mean, it was in these fields that men's contributions were the greatest. So Salvador Dali, Chopin, Malevich, Edgar Poe, and many other musicians, painters, and writers of my world who made their names famous over the centuries have achieved success here as well. With science, the situation was worse. Many of the great men of science whose names I looked up on the Internet were either women here, or not in science at all. All the lists of the greatest men in history were topped by Da Vinci, who was perhaps the only real genius and male scientist who managed to realize his potential as well as he did in my home world. It's all sad... My favorite musician Jackson was also... or rather, continues to be a woman in this world. Except she ended her career on two songs because of an early pregnancy with one Billie Jean. She only wrote two songs, "Dangerous" and "Thriller," never achieving any great fame, but she gave the world four girls and one boy. Too bad I'll miss Jackson's songs in this world.

Another thought occurred to me. Not so long ago, supers, mutants, and other Hulks began to appear in the world. One of the most successful supers at the moment is the Iron Lady, the scandalously famous Tony Stark. But even she only recently began her career as a superheroine. But the query "superhero man" filled the entire first page of the search with references to Steve Rogers, national hero, good guy and sex symbol of the passing century. I smiled, at least Steve stayed a man, enough of Spiderwoman, Hulk, Iron Lady and the like. However, he hasn't been unfrozen yet, and maybe he hasn't even been fished out...

How did he even manage to become a super-soldier serum test subject in a world where even a test pilot or a bomb squad can't be a man by law in most countries?

But the query "modern male superhero" took me to a site with the work of some graphomaniacs, namely, a submission for a web story with two hundred thousand likes and six hundred written works. Yep, the chicks are going crazy. Why am I sure the authors of these works are women? Well, almost all the works there have a sexual orientation, and in all directions at once, and men have enough partners for real sex here, though they are not really interested in it, so why do they need porno-tales?

Finally I heard the neighbors' front door slam, and a disheveled Mary Jane jump out into the street, followed by a stream of cursing in a woman's voice. Oh, Anna Watson's temper is a bit of a problem here.

Mary Jane, with her head on her shoulders, was being rebuked for coming home drunk in the middle of the night and messing up the stairs and things like that... well, Aunt Anna was right, she shouldn't have been drinking like Thompson, she could have taken after me.

I'd like to deflect Mrs. Watson's anger, but I couldn't tell her that I had messed up the house, for it would show that M.J. was not only drunk but in no condition to go herself... and Mary Jane would be embarrassed if she knew that anyone had heard the scene, especially me.

I slammed the door loudly, locked the house, and went out on the porch and pretended I had just seen the neighbors.

"Mary Jane, Mrs. Watson, good morning," I tried to help the girl, though.

M.J. was clearly confused when she saw me. She must be wondering if it was an accident that I showed up so on time and how much I'd heard.

"Hello, Peter," Anna immediately changed from anger to mercy, "to school, too?"

"Yes, Mrs. Watson, let me steal your niece," Anna was confused, "we must hurry or we'll miss the school bus."

"Oh, sure, go ahead," Anna said absent-mindedly.

"Thank you," M.J. whispered as she passed me, "just watch out I don't steal you."

"Oh, what do you mean?" I asked with interest.

"And what would you like me to mean?" M.J. smiled cheekily and asked back.

No, look at her!

"Mary Jane Watson!" I exclaimed.

"What?" she said, confused by the way she was addressed.

"Don't get cocky," I put one arm around her and continued, whispering in her ear, "a couple of kisses and one little blow job is not a reason to get cocky."

"I..." A sharply embarrassed MJ wanted to object, but I interrupted her with a kiss.

She froze, closing her eyes, but then she wrapped her arms around my neck and started to kiss me back, leaning against me harder and letting me enjoy the closeness of her hot body. We stood like that for some time after we broke the kiss.

"Peter," Mary Jane whispered, "you really want... I mean, I never would have thought that you would want with me..."

"I want you, Mary Jane, you can be sure of that.

A yellow school bus came around the corner, and we had to hurry to get to the parking lot in time.

Thompson's car overtook us on the way, and the girl also gave a provocative signal to the driver, causing her to grumble and the whispers and laughter of a busful of schoolgirls.

No sooner had we stepped out of the school bus than Audrey materialized between us, hovering on our shoulders and asking with a sly smile on her face:

"How did it go?" She looked at Mary Jane at the same time.

The girl was confused, not knowing what Thompson meant.

"What do you mean?" She asked, shooting her eyes back and forth between me and Flash.

"Don't play dumb," Audrey threatened, "what were you and Peter doing in your room last night?"

"Peter was in my house?" M.J. wondered.

"Who do you think dragged you home?" Thompson exclaimed loudly, attracting the attention of those around her, so that was her plan."

At Audrey's shout, other schoolgirls began to turn around and stare at Mary Jane in judgment. Shit, I wasn't thinking. This situation here is like a guy getting wasted on a date and a girl having to drag him home on her own! Fucking bitch Thompson, determined to stomp on M.J.'s reputation! But Flash wasn't satisfied with what she'd said so far, and she continued to spout details:

"He did, and how he did! He picked you up like a prince and carried you home, and you never woke up?" I was pretending to be surprised at the end of the bully, "I hope you didn't vomit in his pants at least."

But Mary Jane was not going to let Audrey throw dirt on her in front of everyone.

"It's none of your business," M.J. blurted out, "whatever Peter and I do in my house or anywhere else is between the two of us!"

"Anywhere else?" Thompson squinted.

Watson realized she'd said too much, but it was too late to back out, apparently her first sexual experience and my support made her feel confident.

Mary Jane squinted triumphantly, turned her back to Thompson with a theatrical waving of her mane of red hair. When our gazes met, I saw a shadow of doubt in her eyes; she was afraid I might back away now, that I wouldn't forgive her blabbering, or that I would simply be afraid to become part of the conflict. Or maybe she had hundreds of other reasons in her head, besides those I could understand, that she thought a man could think of to turn away from her. Who knows, that man's logic! And that would be the end of it, for thanks to Thompson, everyone who saw the scene had already turned against her.

Except me, of course. I didn't care about the customs of the natives, I wasn't going to let Thompson humiliate my girlfriend, I smiled approvingly at M.J. and stepped toward her. If this was Mary Jane's way of demonstrating her superiority over Thompson, who had been unable to win over Harry Osborne for years, I would play along.

"I'm not finished with you yet!" Audrey suddenly exclaimed, sensing that the situation was getting out of hand.

She grabbed M.J. by the shoulder and yanked her toward herself. The girl was spun abruptly around her axis, and Thompson was already swinging for the punch.

As if I'd let her! I lunged forward, shielding Mary Jane with me. Thompson's fist smashed into my chest, knocking all the air out of my lungs. It was enough to take away my heroic fuse for a few seconds and knock me backward, right into M.J. This Thompson's punch was as good as Eugene's! Except she wasn't ready for her attack to hit the guy. Audrey was confused, and watched in bewilderment as I nearly collapsed on the floor with Watson. And even as I pulled Mary Jane's shocked Mary Jane aside and turned back around, stretching my neck and arms, showing that I was going to use my fists, she continued to stare blankly.

"Parker, I didn't mean..." Thompson tried to justify herself, but she was no fool and cut herself off in the middle of a sentence, realizing that talking was not the answer.

At that moment my mighty fist was already flying into her face. Naturally, Thompson easily evaded my slow blow, and then another. And another. It's not that hard, as long as there's room to retreat behind me, and my opponent is as slow as Peter Parker without superpowers. There was a wild uproar all around, and the girls were going crazy. It was a sight to behold: a puny, bespectacled guy attacking a big girl soccer player.

Thompson ran out of room to maneuver, her back against the lockers. This is where it all comes down. But I wasn't in a hurry to approach her. No, I began to tease Thompson, gesturing for her to retaliate. It would have been more prudent of her not to hit me, but to try to get out of the situation, so the boy got mad, the main thing was not to hit him, so as not to be the worst. That's exactly what most people would have done in her place.

But this is Thompson, nicknamed Flash. She won't run away forever, her vicious temper won't let her not respond to provocation. No one can hit Thompson and not get hit back, I remember that well. Audrey pushed off the wall with her shoulders and immediately attacked. Hard, swinging, putting all her mass and anger into the punch. One of those would have been enough to knock me out if it had reached its destination.

But I was waiting for it. The problem with this style is that if your opponent isn't at the point of impact, you can't stop. The inertia is too much, the force and mass put into the punch starts to work against yourself. Only amateurs hit like that, or if you're absolutely certain that it's going to hit the target.

I did what I always did in fights as Spider-Man - I predicted my opponent's actions and dodged them. Flash started to lunge forward, and she was taller than me, so I was very comfortable grabbing her by the forearm and throwing her over my shoulder.

I may be weak, but I still hadn't forgotten what biomechanics were.

Thompson fell heavily onto her back, but even though she didn't know how to fall properly, she was still lucky enough not to hit her head on the floor. Which means she'll get up, and I'll have to fight her again. I'll have to knock her out now while she's disoriented.

"What's going on here?!" A woman's voice sounded authoritative and cold behind me.

I exhaled inwardly in relief. Even if it was Flash Thompson, I still felt reluctant to hit a woman, much less a schoolgirl, so violently. I wouldn't stand a chance against her any other way. The teacher showed up just in time.

I stepped aside and stood so that I could talk to Sarasti, but also not lose sight of Thompson rising to her feet. I know that in a state of rage she would not hesitate to stab me in the back.

"I have several versions of what happened," I said quickly, "but the situation does not allow me to give them all. I'll confine myself to a simple one: I didn't do it, and I don't know why Thompson is throwing herself at me."

Deciding to give weight to my words, Thompson just stood up and threw herself into the fight again, reasoning that a second attempt to introduce me to her fists should be more productive than the first.

I did not share her opinion, but I did not have to explain it, because Jukka, seeing Audrey's actions, stepped toward her and caught the bully's fist with one hand.

Everyone was taken aback, even Thompson herself looked at her fist with surprise, securely fixed by the graceful handle of Sarasti.

"What the..." Thompson began, but the next second her indignation turned into a squeal of pain.

Sarasti twisted Thompson's hand and arm, executing a painful hold. To an inexperienced observer it might have appeared that Yucca was a skilled fighter, and did so with her skills, but I could see that she had simply twisted Thompson's arm with the force and unstoppability of a robot.

"Get out of here, all of you" Sarasti ordered, "Parker, come with me to the principal's office."

"Wait," Mary Jane ran out in front of Yucca. "It was Thompson who started the fight, she attacked me, and Peter intervened."

"All three of you, to the principal," Sarasti changed her mind.

Mary Jane was very worried, Thompson was freaking out, but since her hand was still in the slender hand of Sarastee, she could only sway, and not very actively. I was calm. It wasn't the first time.

Seeing our company on the threshold of her office, the principal only sighed heavily, anticipating another headache.

"Yucca, I think you can let go of Miss Thompson's hand now," remarked the principal. And so began the long explanation of what had happened.

Thanks to the crowd of witnesses and Thompson's inappropriate behavior at the teacher's appearance, Mary Jane and I got off extremely easy - three days' suspension each. Flash, on the other hand, was suspended for two weeks.

Nobody got hurt in the end. I didn't show my bruise on my chest. Surprisingly, even Rosie Thompson, who arrived on the principal's call, didn't try to sway her when she found out that Flash had fought with the boy.

Mary Jane, however, was still mortified by this suspension, which was not surprising, given her Aunt Anna's nasty nature. I tried to negotiate with the principal to have Watson's punishment lifted, insisting that M.J. had not participated in the fight and had not responded to Thompson's provocation, but to no avail. Not only did the principal not make concessions, she defiantly called Anna Watson in front of us to inform us that her niece had been suspended for fighting.

I didn't like the principal's gesture. Mary Jane was cold at the thought of what awaited her at home. So I called Mrs. Watson myself, for which I had to cheekily look up the phone number in the principal's notes, and asked her to pick up Mary Jane and me from school, since we were suspended together.

When Anna, angry as a thousand Osborns, arrived, I met her at the front door and took her to the principal's office; she didn't dare yell at me. Already in the office I made the principal tell Aunt Mary Jane the full story, and then we drove home. On the way, forced to listen to my assurances of M. J.'s absolute innocence, Anna practically calmed down, and at the end reproached Mary Jane that a boy was fighting for her while she stood aside. It was a victory, for Anna was beginning to contradict herself and was well aware of it herself.

As much as I wanted to spend the rest of that day in the company of my girlfriend, basking in well-deserved admiration, after a long talk together with the two aunts, my relatives also called the principal, M.J. had to go to her room. It's just that Anna found out the results of yesterday's test, his real results, and that I got a C because of Mary Jane, and she let it slip when she was telling Aunt May and Anna how great I was, so let her study for a while now. Anyway, after getting M.J.'s number, I went to my place, where I led Aunt May out to talk about my father. I told some of what I had learned from Connors and tried to lead Aunt May to the conclusion that I could use Richard's things if he had left her anything, but it was no use. Eventually I asked directly and learned that my parents had disappeared suddenly and had not left any keys to the warehouse among the containers. Finally, after saying goodbye to Aunt May, after listening to a lecture that violence was not the answer, I was left to my own devices.

The first thing I did after school was to go to the hospital where Stans was laid, to make sure that she was still alive and not going anywhere, and from there I drove to Connors' lab. The door was unlocked, and I got in unhindered.

Just as I thought, the woman was asleep right on the desk, her cheek tucked into a notebook of notes. On the desk in front of her was a humming switched on EMS, and on the computer next to the dock was running a virtual model of the test creature and glowing with a series of formulas.

Oh, this woman has come astonishingly far in just twenty-four hours! I could only marvel as I looked up the history of test initiations on the computer. Connors had managed to try over two hundred different versions of the combined formulas, and every one of them required pre-calculations. Oh, and this part is almost identical to Connors' very first serum, the one that caused the Lizard to appear. If it hadn't been for her attempts to improve it with the help of Richard Parker's development that had fallen into her hands, she might have reached the final stage by now... but no, it was the new data that allowed Connors to make her breakthrough. With her own mind, she would have been on her way to her current result for months, if not years.

Too bad we don't have a better computer model for the tests. I realize that dreaming of a perfect model is silly, it's like if I, being in ancient times, complained about the lack of a calculator, but having worked with the supercomputers of the Golden Age, which although based on the architecture of our time, but had a completely different order of power, I, as they say, got used to the good stuff. By that time, people had really squeezed everything they could out of old technology. There were touch panels that covered literally everything in that world, even cigarette packets and toilet paper, as well as a working mathematical model of the evolution of the Earth.

If I had access to such a computer, I could create a perfect model of the human body and run virtual tests on it. How much more reliable and faster my work would become in such a case. Then it would be possible to combine the best in the working formulas I know to improve the human body.

The model Connors uses now is not trustworthy, it does not take too many things into account, and as a result, the theoretically working serum is full of terrible side effects. Although it was Kurt's own fault, he was aware of the imperfection of the model and the need for multiple repetitions on the test subjects. Still, he went straight from the computer model and experiments on mice to people...didn't even wait and check to see how stable Algernon was.

Even now, with all my knowledge, far superior to what Connors is operating with, I can't create a hundred percent reliable formula for a super-soldier, let alone combine it with Karen's formula. I could rivet various variants of it with unpredictable consequences for the test subjects by the hundreds; I could submit a resume to Hydra right now. And after a couple hundred failed attempts, I'd have one or more working formulas.

A good model for tests, resources, and suitable near-human beings for the first tests are what's needed to rebuild a formula. If necessary, you can make up for the lack of one with a surplus of the other.

I could also get a 100% working serum to acquire, not just any serum, but my old powers, even without any additional resources, but for that I need one small detail: Spiderwoman... oh, I've studied myself enough in my past life. The abilities I acquired and their nature have been stumping me for a long time. It took me a very long time before I realized that they were radically different from any other power that could be adequately substantiated through science.

So I learned one striking feature of the powers handed down to me by the Spider - my powers could be extracted and passed on to another person. What's that like, huh? A mutation that could be taken away, locked up in a test tube, and then given to someone else? How can this be explained scientifically? It's mystical, for crying out loud! Especially when you consider where such a peculiarity of my spider powers could have come from? It was as if it wasn't the altered genes at all, but some unknown source that gave me these powers.

I wouldn't use many of these options, though, even if I could. It's not my policy to experiment on people en masse, or to take power away from this Spiderwoman... unless, of course, she gives me a reason to.

But what I don't have, I don't have. Since I don't yet have the resources to create something grandiose, nor do I have an amoral Spiderwoman whose power I can, without hesitation, take away. All that remains is to pick up the crumbs. From the super-soldier formula we can distinguish another, derivative of it, the Eternity Formula. The one that was used on Nick Fury and Natasha Romanova. The Eternity Formula is part of the supersoldier formula; it slows down the aging process, strengthens the immune system, and many other little things, in particular, its owners gain physical shape faster when training. This formula has another disadvantage, which at this point is an advantage - its effect is temporary. I can use it until I have something better and then remove it from my body without consequences. The Eternity Formula is also convenient because it doesn't require Vita Rays to use it. I suspect that's why the effect is temporary. And then you can try to improve it with Connors' research or something else. That way, even if there's a miscalculation somewhere, the side effects won't stay with me forever. The main thing is that they won't be fatal. That doesn't mean I'm going to skip the testing stages and inject it into myself right away, though.

Without yet waking Connors, I used her lab to synthesize the Eternity Serum. Except I was interrupted near the end of the process. The office door opened, and Gwen, my guest from the day before, walked in.

She looked a little disheveled and agitated, but that didn't diminish her beauty.

"Oh, it's you, Parker," she recognized me. "Are you here to see Connors again?"

"Sort of. She was asleep when I got here. What are you here for, work?"

"Not exactly. It's 7:00 at night, the professor was supposed to have a lecture ten minutes ago. I tried calling, but she wasn't answering, so I thought I'd check," Gwen walked over to me, looking at the mess she'd made in the lab.

"I think she was working with the new data until this morning, or longer, and just fell asleep at some point."

"Really, this formula of yours, is it really that important?" The girl asked incredulously.

"You'd know more if you hadn't run off in such a hurry yesterday," I smirked.

Stacy made a disgruntled grimace and tried again to explain her departure without explaining anything.

"I had things to do-I really couldn't stay."

She has a secret, and she's so inept at hiding it. Reminds me of myself in the early months of becoming a Spider... and yet she has quite the right physique.

"What is it?" Gwen was surprised to see the hundreds of formulas under the model Connors. "I barely understand... no, I do not understand it! How could she have gotten to this point in a couple of days?"

"That's what you gave up yesterday," I remembered Gwen squeezing my hand with great strength, just like I did before I learned to dose my strength in everyday life.

"Your readings?" The girl wondered. "But what could it possibly be?"

"Just my chemistry homework," but that doesn't prove anything, not even that it's in Gwen's nature to do a TV show.

"Right, you're in high school," Gwen stretched out, in this world she was older than me and already in college, "and what are you doing now, homework too?"

It was at that moment that the treacherous centrifuge stopped spinning, and a test tube clip slid out of the slot. Gwen squinted dangerously and reached for my formula with her hands. But I was closer, and I snatched the vial earlier.

"You shouldn't stick your pretty little nose into other people's research," I tell her, tucking the test tube into her inside pocket.

But Stacy can't be embarrassed by such a mild compliment. She suspects me of something, only I can't figure out what. Why is she even mad at me? Why is she so suspicious of me? It's as if her sixth sense is telling her to be wary of me.

"Let's wake up the professor," I tried to change the subject. "It is not the right thing to sleep in the lab when you have a family at home and all that. I propose to send her home voluntarily and forcibly."

"You think you can talk her into it?" The girl backed down.

"I'll try," I walked over to Karen and clapped my hands loudly over her ear.

There was no reaction.

Then I did it again, clapping harder and folding my hands into a boat. The sound was deafening, but the woman slept like a baby.

"You can't even wake her up," Gwen remarked smugly.

I grabbed the back of the chair, shook it sharply, and yelled in a harsh, exhaled voice to make it coarser and lower.

"COMPANY, GET UP!" Well, I sounded like a sergeant.

Even Stacy flinched in surprise, though I wasn't yelling at the top of my voice, just the timbre was so unexpected and threatening that way.

Connors jumped up and looked around wildly-her old army instinct kicked in. When she saw us, she was first embarrassed, then furious.

"Don't you ever do that again!"

"If you'd gone home to bed like you promised last night I wouldn't have had to wake you up," I shrugged.

Connors glanced at the screen, remembered what she was working on, and perked up.

"I just couldn't leave, you know, this is my life's work, I have to..."

"Stop," I interrupted her speech. "You are behaving inadequately now, Professor. You already have the formulas, they're not going anywhere, but you just missed your lecture and I'm sure you didn't even warn your family that you weren't coming to spend the night."

Karen lost all spirit of argument when I mentioned family.

"Go home, you'll still have time to work. You need proper rest," I continued to press, "you'll be back here with a clear head, and maybe by then Stans will have recovered herself, new information will be available."

"Yes, you're right, I haven't been home in over twenty-four hours," Connors rubbed her forehead with her healthy hand, and then looked at me again. "Peter, thank you. And for the formula, and for understanding. I'd like to invite you to my house to talk about your parents, but I don't think it's the right thing to do all of a sudden."

"I understand, Professor, give me your number so we can coordinate and share new information," then I turned to Stacy. "Gwen, this is the second time we've accidentally met here. If we have to keep crossing paths, we should get to know each other properly. Do you want to go out for a bite to eat?"

Karen had a look of delighted amazement on her face. It was probably not often she had seen a guy ask a girl out on his own.

"It's a good idea..." Gwen hesitated, "but some other time... I have to hurry..."

The look of surprise on Connors' face doubled.

"I see," I muttered, and then added, "the spotlight's calling..."

"Excuse me?" Gwen looked worried.

"Nothing, another time, so another time," Spider-Girl.