[Superior Piper Parker’s POV]
The hum of the heat is the only sound in my dorm room as I sit hunched in this uncomfortable chair, massaging my temples. My brain feels like a radio picking up two stations at once, conflicting signals battling for dominance.
When I swapped minds with that insufferable Spider-Woman, three imdiate changes occurred. First ca the mories, fragnted and chaotic, but undeniably hers. I see flashes of a modest apartnt, an elderly woman's kind face, foolish heroics perford night after night. Not all her mories but enough to get an idea.
Second ca this nauseating sense of responsibility, this compulsion to help others that gnaws at constantly, as if the world would collapse without my intervention.
But the third change... the third change defies all scientific explanation.
His na is Shane Steele.
I tap my fingers against the desk, analyzing this foreign sensation. His face materializes in my mind unbidden, that unruly hair, those expressive eyes, that infuriatingly endearing awkwardness. The mory of our interaction in class today sends an unfamiliar warmth coursing through my veins.
This isn't re attraction. It's an obsession embedded in the very architecture of this body, as if Parker's infatuation has been encoded into her DNA itself. His presence triggers chemical reactions I cannot control, elevated heart rate, pupil dilation, increased body temperature. When I saw him today, it took every ounce of my intellect to maintain my composure.
"Fascinating," I murmur, my ridiculous glasses. They're purely aesthetic, of course, Parker's enhanced vision requires no correction. But they complete the image I'm cultivating. Organized, intellectual, superior.
I pull up Shane's student file on my computer, scanning through it thodically. Average grades, unremarkable background, nothing to suggest why this ordinary man would inspire such extraordinary fixation. Yet when I picture him, sothing inside , sothing that isn't quite , aches with longing.
The intensity of this feeling surpasses anything I've ever experienced, even my dedication to science. It's utterly illogical, completely irrational, and yet... I find myself unable to resist its pull.
I stand abruptly, pacing the small confines of Parker's dormitory. This room is chaotic, disorganized, a reflection of her scattered mind. I've already begun implenting improvents, sorting her belongings into categories, establishing order where there was none.
I pause mid-step, struck by a realization that feels both foreign and inevitable. Even if this response is purely chemical, so bizarre neural pathway embedded in Parker's brain, I doubt I can overco it through willpower alone.
The solution seems clear. I must have him. If Shane were mine, under my control, eating from my hand like a docile pet, perhaps this maddening preoccupation would finally have an outlet... possibly even a cure.
But there lies the problem. His loyalty to that symbiote-infested girlfriend appears unshakable. I observed his interaction in the hallway, the way his eyes softened when speaking her na. It's revolting yet... fascinating. What does she possess that commands such devotion?
I resu pacing, my footsteps asured and precise. "What would be required to sever such an attachnt?" I mutter to myself, the question hanging in the air of this disorganized dormitory.
Perhaps I'm approaching this incorrectly. In my previous life, I had quite the talent for acquisition, both of knowledge and, well, people. I've orchestrated dozens of successful abductions when necessary for my research. My thods were always precise and effective.
A strange sensation washes over as I consider applying these skills to Shane. A twinge of guilt.
"Still," I murmur to myself, tapping my pen against the desk, "acquiring Shane would solve multiple problems simultaneously."
I could study this inexplicable attraction at my leisure while keeping him safely. I begin sketching potential containnt designs, sothing comfortable yet secure.
As I draft these plans, more fragnted mories suddenly flash through my mind, not mine, but Parker's. Chaotic images of Shane, but not as the awkward young man I encountered today. Instead, I see him transford, horns protruding from his skull, his skin taking on a reddish hue, eyes blazing with unnatural power as he faces... Norman Osborn?
I drop my pen, my fingers trembling slightly. "Oh my," I whisper, the revelation striking like an electrical current. "Shane killed the Green Goblin? And he appears to be so sort of... demon? His alter ego is full of surprises."
The mory continues to unfold, Shane's demonic form unleashing devastating strength as he crushes Osborn’s skull. This changes everything. If Shane possesses such abilities, simple containnt would be insufficient.
I straighten up, tapping my finger against my chin. This changes my approach considerably. Containnt would be pointless if Shane can simply teleport away or transform into that... creature. But perhaps there are other solutions. More elegant ones.
"Isn't Parker an Avenger?" I mutter to myself, the thought crystallizing in my superior mind. "Which ans I should be acquainted with that sorceress, Stephanie Strange."
I begin pacing more rapidly now, my footsteps precise and asured. The possibilities unfold before like a complex equation resolving itself. Dr. Strange deals in mystical arts. Pure scientific heresy, but results are results, regardless of thodology.
"I wonder if Dr. Strange has a spell that could limit a demon transformation?" I tap my chin thoughtfully, the pieces falling into place. Such a spell could neutralize Shane's abilities, making him far easier to acquire and study at my leisure.
I pause by the window, gazing out at the campus below, a smile spreading across my face as I contemplate this elegant solution.
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