----
Even though Nolan had nearly perfected his energy absorption thod, he decided to hold off on human experintation. There was no rush.
The military was already working on similar enhancents, likely nearing clinical trials.
Thanks to the implant he'd slipped into Ross's network, AI assistant A.R.E. now had full access to their classified database. Any new experints would be mirrored instantly into Nolan's servers.
So instead, Nolan focused on himself.
After days of ditative refinent, his base strength, without invoking his dragon force, had reached 80 tons.
That alone was enough to brawl with Abomination toe-to-toe.
But raw power wasn't everything. His reaction speed, agility, and nerve transmission rates had all dramatically increased.
And there was still untapped potential—especially in Peter Parker.
Spider-Man wasn't just a mutated teen. His powers were tethered to sothing far more ancient: The Spider-Totem, a multiversal totemic force whose avatars could, in so incarnations, rival cosmic entities.
Peter had no idea just how far he could go.
With Wanda's help, Nolan developed a new style of ditation Technique, replacing the old ditation techniques of the Chaste with one far more efficient.
The key wasn't breath, it was resonance.
By aligning his brain's electromagnetic rhythm with his cellular magnetic field, he could activate cells at will. Once he grasped the principle, optimization ca naturally.
Where others had to follow controlled breathing to avoid blacking out, Nolan skipped straight to full power.
Because, unlike others, he wasn't afraid of suffocating.
---
That night...
Peter Parker left the lab late, zipping his jacket as he walked alone through Queens.
"Man, I really hope the boss doesn't find out I'm Spider-Man," he muttered. "Wanda's powers were insane... I don't think my Spider-Sense could've dodged any of that."
He frowned, rembering how Sandman had given him serious trouble in their last clash. And Max, now head of R&D, was practically a walking lightning storm.
Peter sighed. "When will I ever be that strong...?"
As he turned a corner, his foot almost stepped into a puddle, no, a writhing sar of black sludge, glistening like motor oil.
He recoiled.
"What the heck is that?"
It twitched.
He took a step back, instincts kicking in. Old Peter might have poked at it. This Peter wasn't that dumb anymore. He turned and walked away.
The black goo pulsed once... then began to crawl forward.
---
Back ho, Aunt May was laughing on the phone. Peter knew who it was. He just smiled and waved her off.
"Whatever makes her happy," he murmured.
Upstairs, he checked his gear, fiddling with his web-shooters. But his thoughts weren't on patrol.
He stared at the empty space under his bed.
"...My dad's briefcase," he whispered. "Where the hell is it?"
He rembered every formula in it, so he hadn't touched it in months. But now it was gone.
"May?" he called, opening his door. "Did you clean my room?"
She shouted back through the phone, "No! I haven't touched your stuff since you turned eighteen!"
Peter's face darkened. "Then... who took it?"
No leads. Maybe Tony could help. Or... Nolan.
After all, his dad did used to work at Oscorp.
That night, as he drifted into sleep—
He didn't see the shadow seep under his door. Didn't feel the sentient mass of black creep across his floor, slither up to his suit...
...And rge with it.
---
The next morning
Peter jolted awake, brushed his teeth, suited up, and called out, "Later, Aunt May!"
He dashed into the streets, swinging toward the university.
But in an alley near midtown, he stopped soone who was crying.
Peter peeked in.
Three bullies were pounding on a kid while one of them counted bills.
"Say it's for school fees. You hear ?"
Before they could leave, a figure landed between them.
Peter's voice ca cold, calm. "How about you give that back, tough guy?"
The leader sneered. "What are you supposed to be, Spider-Man's goth cousin? The suit's supposed to be red, genius."
Peter blinked. "Wait... black?"
He hadn't noticed it until now. But before he could react, the thug lunged.
WHAM!
BAM!
CRACK!
Seconds later, Peter handed the kid his cash.
"You're Spider-Man?" the boy asked shyly.
"Of course!" Peter grinned. "Who else would I be?"
"...But you're all black?"
Peter hesitated. "Black?"
He shot a web, swung up to a nearby building, and caught his reflection in the window.
A sleek, black Spider-suit stared back at him.
"What the hell is this...?"
He felt it now. His strength doubled. His speed amplified. Reflexes sharper.
It was intoxicating.
"...This is amazing," he whispered. "This is aweso!"
----
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