[ FEAST ]

It's been three days since the incident. He hasn't talked to Strange during that time. After the incident in the Sanctum Sanctorum, he woke up inside the hospital. It was a vivid memory, but he remembered six figures standing over him. It was all he could remember besides the pain.

Not only was his problem not solve, but he enraged a lot of people even more—namely Mr. Murdock. He gave Peter a pretty good lecture over the phone on why his antics were a stupid idea. Luckily, he was able to grant him pardon for leaving the school suddenly.

Yes, they didn't know about his battle with Doctor Strange. Nobody reported anything. Even Ned's hospitalisation was labeled as an 'accident.' They may be on bad terms, but he had to thank Strange for having his back even after what happened.

So, he was visiting Aunt May for his monthly visits. These were the occasions that they had a chance to talk—as Peter was limited in freedom and Aunt May was caught up in FEAST business. This was a much more important visit—as this was the last visit before Peter's trial.

As Peter was sitting inside the cafeteria alone, MJ approached him and sat beside him.

"Hey," She sat comfortably beside him and slid a container of yogurt. "Thought you might be hungry."

"No, no." He kindly declined. "I'm good, MJ." He continued moping in despair.

"So, I called the hospital earlier; we can visit Ned tomorrow in the morning. I was hoping that we could visit before sc—"

"Yeah," Peter nodded continuously. "Before school's good."

MJ bit her lip. This was worse than when he was found out that he was Spider-Man. There were five super-villains out in New York and it was Peter's fault—as told by Strange. Personally, MJ didn't feel that way; she was blaming Strange rather than him. However, she couldn't stop thinking that Peter was blaming himself.

"Peter, you know it's not your fault." She mentioned, hoping for agreement.

"I—I don't think that's it, MJ. There are five people out there who wants me dead." He scratched his head. "I'm lucky that they haven't done anything the past three days."

"Well, I think the best plan is to wait until Saturday. I'm sure you and Mr. Murdock have something in plan."

"I can't. What if we lose? Then who'll protect you from them? I can't bare allowing that."

"Peter, we'll be fine. And you won't lose. You've been planning this for months. Public perception has been changing now that Spider-Man's been active less."

"They'll just find out how dangerous I am when I'm Spider-Man again." Peter tapped his head with his whole hand. "If I was just careful—"

"Careful?" May laughed, sitting across from them. She was wearing a black shirt, brown leather jacket, and some very-fashionable pants. "Who said Parker's were careful?"

"Hey, May." Peter forcibly smiled as he kept on thinking about the super-villains. "How's FEAST?"

"Oh, you know how it is. Normal ten-to-six job. Can you believe that Harold made some apple pie yesterday; and it was actually good?!"

"Huh," Peter soullessly chuckled. "Harold's been perfecting that for weeks, huh?"

"Okay," May nodded, glancing to MJ. "What happened last Monday?"

"Oh," MJ kept her mouth shut. "It's kind of a private matter."

"Yeah, and I'm his Aunt." She looked back at Peter. "You have to tell me, Peter."

"It's nothing, May. I promise you. Everything that happened with me—and Ned—it's just an accident at school."

"Alright, so you're not going to tell me." May sighed. "This is hard for you, isn't it? Look, Peter, I'm not into your superhero world where magic and flying suits are, but I'm in your Peter world. I want to protect that. I'm not going to be able to if you're not going to open it up. If you close it, bad people will just barge in. People like me won't, because we want to respect what you have. So please, just tell me—something, anything."

Suddenly, an old man came from behind them. He tapped May in the shoulder, signalling to one of the rooms outside of the cafeteria.

"Um, May, if you'd mind. There's some defective equipment in the tech room. We want to fix it, but we're scared we might make it worse. It seems like they need it fast, so the mechanic isn't reall—"

"I can handle it, Manny, don't worry." May stood up and guided the elderly to their cafeteria seat. She gazed at Peter, looking at the broken kid's face. She needed to give him time. "MJ, is it alright if you could help me with the problem? Sometimes I need some youth."

"Yeah, sure. No problem, ma'am." MJ whispered to Peter. "You'll be alright?"

"Ye—yeah, I'll be fine." Peter kindly waved at her.

MJ stood up, already going to the tech room to get a head-start. May hesitated, choosing to look at her niece one last time before heading into help.

"You know..." May paused, but ignored what she was going to say at first. "You look like Ben, Peter. Just before he was going to solve his biggest problem, he'd be looking like that. I'm sure you'll find your answer, Peter."

He gulped. Will he?

As May left, Peter was all alone on a cafeteria bench, looking like someone who didn't receive their lunch. The people of FEAST didn't give him any attention as they had seem him so many times. They were like family, and respected that being Spider-Man was tough. They'd given him plenty of advice but that day, he had apologetically asked if he could be given some time alone.

—And so, no gifts were given. Only the occasional greeting.

Is this his rock-bottom? He had been beaten and messed with so badly that the world didn't even give a damn—was Peter Parker worthless? At this point, Spider-Man was his only true identity. Slowly, that feeling of being a Parker was—

}{ }{ }{ }{ }{

"—What?" He squinted, gazing at the decorations.

Unconsciously, Peter stood up and placed on his glasses. Manoeuvring around the cafeteria, he went to the tech room. There were people walking on the hallway, as Peter's Tingle kept on triggering. He was getting worried; it could have been any one of them.

As he progressed through the hallway, he mumbled. "E.D.I.T.H, scan for any suspicious activity from any of these guys from the past three days."

"Anything?"

"Anything that's related to the people we saw from the Sanctum. Any camera footage will do."

"Man to your left." E.D.I.T.H. informed, pointing out to the person cleaning the wall. "Visited the Harlem precinct before it was attacked on Tuesday night."

"More?"

"Child right in front of you." E.D.I.T.H. began playing a video through the lenses. "Child was seen Monday evening strolling through the neighbourhood with his father. Location lined up with the direction in which the reported five villains were heading."

"Got more?"

"Comprehending."

Peter reached the location of the tech room. At this moment, he was focused on keeping MJ and May protected. Checking the perimeter, Peter noticed there were two doorways in the tech room—both leading to the hallway. Peeping through the small window of the room, he saw MJ and May manipulating one of the cables of the TV.

"C'mon, E.D.I.T.H, I'm going to need something right now." Peter urged, staying beside the door.

"Got one. Man inside the tech room." E.D.I.T.H. alerted. "The man in the blue jumpsuit; last seen—"

Peter bursted through the door, shooting a web at the 'mechanic' that was approaching MJ and May. He fell to the floor, dropping his gun in the process. Both women screamed, which garnered the attention of everyone in the building.

"E.D.I.T.H, suit!" Peter commanded, as nano-tech covered his entire body. A black suit with gold trails took form, serving as his make-shift suit for now. Bobbing his head around, he looked for more threats. "Keep on scanning. There might be—"

Out of nowhere, a block of sand smashed him across the face. He fell into the hallway, as the same man from before—sporting a patterned green shirt and beige cargo pants—walked towards him.

"Why hello, Spider." He proclaimed, going for another hit.

Peter pulled a web away, rolling on the hallway. He got some distance, as the man became aware of what he was doing.

"E.D.I.T.H, scan him!"

"Scan—#%$@&" It sounded like the A.I. was breaking. "Unable to process scan. Reason: unknown."

"Get back here!" The Sandman angrily grew his arm and launched a large fist at Peter.

Using his senses, he dodged to the ceiling and flung at him. Once he was in ranged, he sent a flurry of kicks and punches towards him. They were advanced; almost too advanced. Peter had programmed his suit with multiple attack procedures to follow. It was basically a new move every time.

Peter punched him so hard that his fist went through him. As his fist was in a suspended position, the Sandman filled the vacant space with sand.

Being trapped in his stomach, Peter jumped and kicked off him. It got his hand out, landing in front of him. He stuck the Sandman's hands onto both sides of the hallway. Being positioned in a way like the cross, Peter got some momentum and kicked him very far back.

—But there was something wrong; he was too lightweight.

Unable to keep up, the Sandman fell back.

"Damn," He was out of breath, kneeling in front of Peter. "Osborn didn't say you were that 'tuff."

Peter grabbed him by the collar, raising his fist in the process. "And he didn't say you were this weak. Where is he?"

"And I didn't say you were fighting the real me." He chuckled, melting into sand that fell onto the floor.

"—Wha—" Peter looked around, confirming that Beck wasn't behind that illusion. He noticed that the sand was moving, going to a general direction. It was heading towards the cafeteria, which Peter followed.

Bursting out of the cafeteria, he removed his mask to see clearer and to feel the Peter Tingle. Since it was moving at such a rapid pace, he had to engage with the FEAST locale in order to find it.

"WHERE?! WHERE'S THE SAND HEADING?"

"Over there, Peter!" The vendor pointed out.

"THANKS!"

Going outside of the door, he realized that they were on the second floor of the building. Getting on the balcony, the sand was now pouring onto the street, heading further and further from FEAST.

"Damn it," Peter growled, putting his head on the railing. "E.D.I.T.H, please tell me you got that?"

"Got what, Peter?"

—A sigh.

"Forget it." Peter sat down on the balcony, with his mask off and the tight suit not complimenting the weather at all. This whole day was a disaster. This whole week, in fact. It's been an endless rollercoaster of—

—Sand.

It was the first thing he saw when he glanced at the floor. There were sand trails left that weren't included in the move back into wherever the Sandman was. Picking up only a single grain, Peter focused on it.

"E.D.I.T.H, can you work with this?"

"Scanning object... scan complete. Comparing sample with others in the area." The A.I. paused, "This may take a while."

Peter stood bravely on the balcony, looking into the distance. "When you find out where they are, I want you tell me; alright, E.D.I.T.H?"

"What do you plan on doing, Peter?"

"..." He thought long.

—But it had already been decided since Monday.

"I'm ending this—tonight."