Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy came sprinting back, both gasping for breath, hair thoroughly disheveled. They positioned themselves as far apart as the space allowed, and even then couldn't resist launching the occasional glare across the distance.

Harry and the others desperately wanted to laugh but didn't dare. Their faces were doing truly heroic contortions.

Then Peter felt it, a rush of air from behind. Peter ducked on instinct, smooth and fast, and turned around.

All hope drained away.

Here we go again.

A boy decked head-to-toe in designer brands was staring down at an open palm in genuine bewilderment, seemingly puzzled over why the swing had missed. Then the boy put both hands on hips and called out to Peter with a full-faced sneer.

"Soft Parker! Looks like you've been living it up while I was gone — you actually managed to make this many friends!"

"..." Draco's brow furrowed on instinct at the sheer, swaggering arrogance radiating off this stranger. Draco drew up into an even haughtier posture and murmured under his breath, "Who is that?"

Someone even more arrogant than Draco.

Peter's face was a portrait of exhaustion, the expression of someone long since done with life. "Flash Thompson," Peter murmured back. "School bully. Also a Blip victim."

And someone who had spent years finding joy in tormenting Peter, but that part Peter left unsaid.

Hermione frowned, casting a quiet, sidelong glance at Draco. Both Flash's demeaning nickname for Peter and that air of lofty superiority inevitably called to mind a certain version of Draco from their school years.

Fists clenched. Hard.

"I'm talking to you — can't you hear me, Parker!" Seeing Peter ignore the confrontation entirely and murmur to the others instead, Flash blew up. Without another word, Flash charged forward and drove a punch straight into Peter's shoulder.

Under the disbelieving stares of Harry and the others, Spider-Man, a strength-type superhero with a standard fifteen-ton arm strength, was knocked stumbling back several steps by a single punch.

Ron:!

Ron's eyes went wide. Completely unable to reconcile the poor kid being shoved around right now with the Spider-Man who had been dropping enemies one punch at a time on the battlefield.

"Bloody hell..." Ron murmured, rubbing both eyes, then looked again just to confirm this wasn't a dream.

Then fury surged. Ron charged straight forward and shoved Flash hard. "So you're the one who's been bullying Peter!"

Flash went still.

At Midtown High School, it had always been Flash doing the bullying, and now some random redhead was shoving Flash around?!

Flash's eyes went wide. Knuckles cracked. Flash was ready to charge at this reckless kid, but Harry and Hermione stepped directly in front of Ron, blocking the path. Even Draco, who had no love for Ron, moved over to stand with them.

There was no helping it. Draco couldn't stand Ron, but standing united against an unpleasant Muggle, Draco had no trouble with that at all.

Besides: someone out there was even more arrogant than Draco?!

Draco wasn't having it.

Shielded behind Ron and the others, Peter looked so moved that tears were nearly spilling over.

A bully who always folded when facing a real challenge, Flash shrank back at the sight of all those hostile faces. Just where had Parker, the Parker who had been pushed around for years, found friends like these? Friends who actually dared to hit Flash!

Scared as Flash was, Flash still puffed out a chest, privately gathered some nerve, and put on a fierce front.

"You—"

"Flash! You're bullying Peter again!"

Two furious voices rang out from a distance. The group turned. Ned Leeds and a remarkably cool girl came running over from far away, shaking their fists at Flash.

"You're bullying Peter again, if it weren't for, " If it weren't for the Avengers' efforts, how could the people taken by the Blip have come back this quickly.

Ned swallowed the rest of that sentence. Furious was one thing, but blowing Peter's cover would ruin everything.

"MJ, I'm fine..."

The cool girl, MJ, ran over and fixed Peter with a look of resigned exasperation. Peter spoke in a low voice.

Seeing that worn-down, push-me-around expression on Peter's face, MJ sighed. Leaning close to Peter's ear, MJ whispered something, completely unaware that the tips of Peter's ears had quietly turned red.

Harry caught it. Quietly nudged Hermione, Ron, and Draco. All four turned teasing looks on Peter at the exact same moment.

Peter felt every one of those gazes. Eyes darted sideways. Cheeks went completely red.

"Come on, you're Spider-Man. A superhero who saved the world. Can you have a little backbone and just beat the guy up already!"

"I..." Peter looked pained. Because if Peter actually beat Flash up, the Thompson family might need to start making funeral arrangements. Flash didn't look nearly as durable as a Chitauri.

MJ read those exact thoughts with eerie precision. A beat of silence. Then a decisive pivot. "Fine. Forget it, don't do anything. We'll find time later and throw a sack over Flash's head."

Peter opened a mouth. Closed it again. Said nothing.

Right. Peter hadn't heard a single word. Just an innocent little spider, minding its own business.

Wait.

Was Peter missing something?

Peter's expression shifted to pure horror in an instant. Eyes locked unblinking on MJ. The words came out in a stammer, voice soaked in disbelief.

"You, how do you know, no, what I mean is, I'm not Spi—"

"Give it a rest." MJ waved a hand. "You think you've been hiding it well? You practically have I have a secret written across your face at all times."

Figuring out that Peter was Spider-Man had been child's play. Peter was genuinely terrible at keeping secrets, constantly slipping up in the small details. A bit of careful observation was all it had taken for MJ to piece together Peter's biggest secret.

Peter had nothing to say to that.

On the other side, Flash was still holding a single-handed standoff against Ned and the others, burning with curiosity about the words Ned hadn't finished.

"If it weren't for what?"

"Nothing!" Ned snapped, then added a warning for good measure. "If we catch you bullying Peter again, we won't let it slide!"

Ron and Harry helpfully raised their fists right on cue.

Flash let out a loud, dismissive "tsk", louder than Ned's voice.

"I was just asking Parker about joining our Spider-Man Anti-Defamation Squad. Who's bullying anyone!"

Harry: "Spider-Man?"

Hermione: "Anti-defama-what?"

Ron: "What squad?"

Draco: "...You're a Spider-Man fan?"

Flash couldn't understand why all their expressions had shifted so drastically in that single instant, as though Flash had just said something utterly absurd.

Flash quietly pushed down the puzzlement and announced with a face full of pride, "Yes! I am a fan of Spider-Man, the greatest, most benevolent superhero in the entire universe!"

Everyone:...

Peter instantly squeezed both eyes shut in despair. Peter had long known Flash was a fan, but hearing that breathless, face-to-face tribute delivered in person made Peter desperately want to find a crack in the ground and disappear into it.

"So..." Ron's mouth twitched. Ron shot Flash a look of profound bewilderment. "If Flash ever finds out that the Peter being bullied is Spider-Man, Flash would probably bash their own head into a wall from sheer embarrassment, right?"

"Parker! Are you joining the Spider-Man Anti-Defamation Squad or not!" Flash pressed again, not willing to let it go.

Braving the teasing looks from all sides, Peter braced up and stepped forward. "No... Flash, I, I still have things to do, so I won't be joining..."

The halting, stuttering words, sheer awkwardness bleeding through every syllable, only stoked Flash's fury higher. Flash roared.

"I knew it. Soft Parker! Goes around claiming to be Spider-Man's friend, then runs faster than anyone when it actually counts!"

No one knew that Flash had actually been jealous of Peter for a very long time.

Ever since Ned had brazenly declared that Peter was Spider-Man's good friend, Flash had spared no effort mocking Peter for it. Whatever Peter did, Flash found an angle to attack, and all the while, Flash kept noticing things on Peter that connected back to Spider-Man.

An official Spider-Man merchandise badge. A handwritten Spider-Man autograph. Exclusive photos of Spider-Man.

Flash was practically sick with envy. That badge hadn't even been available for a devoted fan like Flash to buy.

The possibility that Peter was Spider-Man in person had never once crossed Flash's mind.

If Peter ever found out, Peter would have cried foul immediately:

The official merchandise badge had been sent over by a partner company. The handwritten autograph was something Peter had been scribbling on paper out of sheer boredom. The exclusive photos were selfies, and selling them to the press even earned Peter a payment.

Flash knew none of this. Flash was simply furious at Peter for "claiming to be Spider-Man's friend while refusing to do anything for that friend." If it weren't for the crowd standing around Peter right now, Flash probably would have charged straight in and thrown a punch.

"You really are a coward! Parker, you better watch yourself!"

Flash bellowed the threat and turned to leave, then a notification chimed from Flash's phone. Flash stopped. Muttered a string of curses while pulling the phone out to check.

In full view of everyone, Flash's face went pale.

"What's Flash looking at?" Ron asked, curious. Harry shook their head.

A moment later, Flash's voice rang out across the entire school.

"Bullshit! Spider-Man is not a murderer!"

Chapter 138

Watching Flash Thompson storm off with a face flushed red with fury, only to catch a foot on a pebble and go sprawling on the way, the group was left with nothing but question marks.

"What did he just say?"

Peter was in no mood to figure out who had asked. Lips gone pale, Peter yanked the phone out of a pocket, nearly dropped it, because both hands were shaking.

What on earth had happened?

Why would anyone say... Spider-Man was a murderer?

With unease coiled deep in the chest and a maddening buzz roaring through the skull, the Peter Tingle was working overtime. Peter opened the social media app.

The lines of text that filled the screen wiped Peter's mind completely blank.

#Spider-Man Murderer [Viral]

#Hero Turned Criminal [Viral]

#Arrest Spider-Man Immediately! [Viral]

#Boycott Murderer Spider-Man [Viral]

...

The others caught the shift in Peter's face and knew something was wrong. They pulled out their own phones, and that single look was enough to make them furious.

Calling Peter a murderer. Pure, shameless sensationalism. They had spent enough time with Peter to know exactly what kind of person Peter was.

Outside of Endgame, when lethal force was the only option against the enemy, Peter's standard playbook on missions was to web them up and dump them outside the police station door. When a hit landed too hard by accident, Peter would instinctively apologize.

Spider-Man, a killer? Not a chance. They were the first ones to say so.

"I really can't believe it. Spider-Man always acted like a friendly neighborhood hero — and he actually did something like murder?"

"Right? If even Spider-Man killed someone, I bet there are plenty of people in the Avengers who look kind on the outside but are completely ruthless underneath."

"Honestly, that wouldn't surprise me. If you ask me, those superheroes should all be thoroughly investigated."

"..."

For the first time, the group genuinely hated how fast information spread. The students passing by had clearly already caught wind of it, and the discussions were growing louder by the second, showing no signs of stopping.

"Hey! You don't know a single thing, and you're already trashing Spider-Man — watch out, or we'll sue you for spreading rumors!"

Ron Weasley, patience absolutely shredded, shouted at the students nearby. Those students only gave Ron Weasley a pitying look.

"You're a Spider-Man fan, huh? Save it. The video's already up online. Go watch it yourself."

With that, perhaps because the looks coming from the group around Peter were a little too unfriendly, the students who had offered their friendly warning pulled their heads in and cleared out quickly. The surrounding area emptied almost instantly.

A video? What video?

Peter blinked, pushed through the pounding in the skull, and tapped the top trending topic. Right at the top of the page was a video. One light tap, and a soft rustling sound fed through the phone's speaker into the ears of everyone close by.

They crowded in carefully, all eyes on Peter's screen.

The footage looked like someone had filmed it from the corner of a wall, hiding. The bottom half of the frame was blocked by a dumpster, a murky black smear, but the upper half caught everything in clear detail.

A red figure every New Yorker knew by sight. Spider-Man in the Item 17A suit, standing in a dim alley with their back to the camera. Something was moving beneath those feet.

Then the person filming tilted the phone up slightly. The camera wobbled for a few seconds. When it steadied, whatever was under Spider-Man's feet finally came into frame.

It was a man.

The alley was dark, but the camera still caught it clearly, a dark patch on the ground beside the man's head. Anyone, even a fool, could have told what it was. A thick, vivid pool of blood.

The camera lurched violently several times. The sheer degree of that trembling said everything about the state of the person holding it.

The video wasn't over. Harry shot a worried glance at Peter, but Peter didn't register it, eyes fixed on the screen.

The man on the ground was pinned under Spider-Man's foot, but wasn't giving up. Still struggling, still fighting, even though the odds of surviving were barely there at all.

Then the Spider-Man in the footage drew that foot back and drove it down hard into the man below.

Peter's brow furrowed.

As if that wasn't enough, Spider-Man didn't stop. The mechanical spider-legs from the suit's back extended and plunged down. A wet, squelching sound, the unmistakable noise of something sharp tearing through flesh, and the man screamed once, sharp and terrible, then went completely still.

Was he dead?

Killed by Spider-Man?

That was every viewer's first thought. It was the recorder's first thought, too. An involuntary sharp inhale, and that tiny, barely-there sound was enough. Spider-Man's head snapped toward the camera.

The white eyes, the ones New Yorkers had always found kind of endearing, were solid red. Spider-Man tilted their head. And started walking toward the lens with a slow, measured, deeply wrong kind of stride.

Then everything went to chaos. The camera thrashed so wildly the image was unreadable, and over the top of it came screaming: "Don't come any closer," "Please, I don't want to die," "Someone help me—"

The video cut out.

"..."

Silence. Everyone around Peter was watching carefully, reading Peter's face. None of them believed for a second that Peter had done any of this, but seeing how bad Peter looked, they all made the wise call to stay quiet.

Peter drew a slow, deep breath, forcing calm from the inside out, and tapped into the comment section.

[God! I never imagined Spider-Man was this kind of person!]

[He passed through Brooklyn two days ago and I literally gave him a sandwich. Thinking about it now genuinely scares me.]

[I say we thoroughly investigate all the superheroes!]

[+1. Spider-Man, the one who looked most like a genuinely good person, turned out to be a murderer. Who's to say the others don't have a side nobody's seen?]

[Hold on, isn't anyone being a bit rash here? If the person who filmed this already got hurt, how did the video get uploaded?]

[Honestly, same. Something feels off. Like someone is deliberately setting Spider-Man up. (Just a theory, don't come at me.)]

[Oh, so the authorities are already moving to whitewash Spider-Man? Evidence this obvious and people are still defending him...]

[...]

Clack.

Peter snapped the phone off.

Even spotting one or two comments that stood up for Spider-Man in that endless sea of hatred didn't make it any better.

"Dude, don't let it get to you. Someone clearly has it out for you, we all know you didn't do any of that."

Ned Leeds said it like it was obvious, and the others nodded immediately, like being a half-second slow would make Peter think they had doubts too.

Peter pressed lips together. Looking at the open, undisguised worry on every one of their faces, something warm moved through the chest.

"I know," Peter said quietly. "I'm not upset. Why would I be upset over something I never did?"

And strangely, after watching that video and wading through those comments, the frantic noise in Peter's head had actually quieted. The "Spider-Man" in the footage matched Peter in every way, build, movement, suit, but Peter could say it without any hesitation at all:

That was not Peter.

Which meant someone was orchestrating this from the shadows, with a single goal: tear Spider-Man's name apart completely.

And if Peter thought about it a step further, maybe Spider-Man wasn't even the real target. Maybe the Avengers as a whole were in the crosshairs.

The thought landed like cold water. Peter pulled out the phone, typed into the group chat called "Avengers One Big Family," and hit send.

"That wasn't me. I'm fine. I'll find out who's behind this."

Message sent. No energy left to answer the flood of concern already pouring in from the others. Peter killed the screen, and the expression that replaced the earlier resolve was nothing like it. Brittle. Strained. Like the confidence had been a coat Peter had just taken off.

Easy enough to say. But how, exactly, was Peter supposed to find this person?

"Um... Peter." MJ's voice came out carefully, a little uncertain. "I think you need to see this."

A phone was held out. Peter looked.

On the screen: a livestream, viewer count climbing past ten million.

And there, standing right in the center of the frame, was that unmistakable fishbowl head.

Mysterio.

➤ Next: Going to the Rendezvous Alone