New York City, The Bar With No Name. It was a hub of gangs and criminals from all walks of life, yet thanks to the so-called "sanctuary" status, no fights were allowed to break out. Usually filled with patrons, Hobbie Brown was surprised to discover it empty. Hobbie walked inside, taking note of the large table that was placed in the middle of the large room where round tables usually were. Only two chairs accompanied the wooden table at either ends.

"You shouldn't have come here."

Hobbie walked towards the bar and sat down while the bartender, Deke, set a glass in front of him. Hobbie accepted the drink as Deke continued, "Tonight's not a good time. I hear we're getting important visitors. The type you don't want to get involved with."

Downing the drink in one go, Hobbie stayed quiet. Deke accepted the silence and began to clean the glass cup, waiting. Hobbie continued to sit there, as if mulling over things. Calculating probabilities. Weighing his choices. Deke poured him another drink, something stronger, and as Hobbie took the last gulp of the alcohol, so too did his hesitation.

"If they ask if anyone's here, tell them no. That's all I ask."

Deke sighed, yet accepted Hobbie's request. "Go before I remember you're here". Hobbie gave Deke an appreciative nod and headed towards upstairs where the bedrooms are located. Entering a random room, Hobbie grabbed the desk chair and placed it in front of the door. He sat and closed his eyes, waiting for the time to come.

Wilson Fisk was a patient man. He wouldn't have been hired as Don Rigoletto's bodyguard if he wasn't. Well that, and for certain other… qualities and skills he possessed. Still, Wilson considered his patience his greatest weapon, and now, as his boss ordered him to search the building for any threats, Fisk would show why it was so. Building trust was never an easy thing, especially so with someone of Don Rigoletto's reputation, yet being taken in by the man certainly made it easier. One of the Dons of the Maggia family would soon come to rue the trust he placed in a weak and fragile Wilson Fisk. 'To think I'm about to do this to the man who made me strong, to the man who gave me purpose in life.' Thought Fisk. A grin spread across his face. 'He would be proud'.

Coming up to the last bedroom in the Bar With No Name, Wilson prepared to meet his guest. Opening the door revealed a man in a purple and black suit sitting in a chair. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Fisk gave a nod and closed the door. The grin plastered on his face would disappear as soon as he reached the first floor and announced that the building was clear.

Meanwhile, Hobbie thought again of turning back. 'There's still time. I can leave right now, escape through the back door without being seen… No, I have to do this. For Abe.' With thoughts of turning back suppressed, Hobbie Brown stood up.

It was time to go prowling.

Peter Parker was not having a good time. Staying up late was a usual problem for a teenager, but staying up late because a whole city block was destroyed was a foreign concept to most. Just as he was about to get some shut-eye, his Spider-Sense had gone off like crazy! Confused and alarmed, it didn't take long for the Friendly Neighbor-hood Spider-Man to find the giant plume of smoke across the city. The block looked like a war-zone. People running away from the giant fires, screams of help and cries of pain. It took hours for Spider-Man to make sure anyone that could be saved was saved. Peter shuddered as he remember those he couldn't get to, those that were already gone by the time he got there. The bodies… The smell…

Peter jumped as a ruler was snapped to his desk. Looking up to see the angry face of his English teacher, Peter gave a weak smile as students around him laughed.

"Now that I have everyone's attention…" continued the teacher, Mrs. Hawthorn, as she rambled on about whatever it was that they were supposed to be studying. Peter honestly couldn't care. Looking down at his notebook, Peter caught the paper-ball that was aimed towards his face and turned to look at the grinning face of Flash Thompson who sat next to him.

"Parker, I didn't know you were into that. Wanna give me and the boys a few after school?" Whispered Flash to a visibly confused Peter. Seeing that Flash was still looking at him expectantly, Peter asked, "What do you mean?". An annoyed look flashed across Flash's face. "You think I'm dumb or something ('Yes')? Bro, you reek of cigarettes."

Peter stared incredulously at Flash, but decided not to say anything. Mrs. Hawthorn was already giving him another look. Instead he turned his attention back towards his notebook, where a sketch for a new device hungered to be finished. Flash threw another paper-ball at Peter, but he decided to let it hit him. There were more important things to worry about.

'What could've caused that massive fire last night? Firefighters at the scene speculated that it was a gas leak, but there was no sign of an explosion. No, it didn't look random. Did someone intentionally cause that fire? Were they hiding something? If so, what could be so important to risk the lives of hundreds of people? I better head there after school, see if there's anything can find.'

With a plan for his day complete (along with the usual patrols), Peter decided to finally focus on class. Then again, what lesson could 'American Kingpin' possibly teach him?

Elsewhere, Hobbie Brown met with Wilson Fisk for hopefully, the last time. Brown walked into the lobby at the top floor of the skyscraper, where a pretty assistant asked him to wait and offered him water. Hobbie declined and sat down in one of the large (and very comfortable) couches. Hobbie admitted that it was quite a sight; the large windows allowed him to see over all of Manhattan. The Empire State Building loomed over them from a distance. Hobbie couldn't help but think that Fisk hated not having the tallest tower in New York. 'Still, Fisk Industries is quite the sight'.

"Mr. Brown?". Hobbie stood up at the sound of his name.

"Mr. Fisk is ready for you.". Hobbie thanked the pretty assistant, Vanessa from the plaque on her desk, and entered Wilson's Fisk's office. The room was large yet surprisingly minimalist. Perhaps a sign of Fisk's upbringing? Yet the sense of power and intimidation that came from just having a desk at the far end of the room made it clear that Fisk knew what he was doing.

"… and have it ready by the end of the month! Henchmen these days… ah, Hobbie Brown, good to see you. I must say I'm impressed by your work." Said Fisk as he ended a phone call. Hobbie didn't deliver a response. He didn't want to think about what he had done the night before. Instead, he got right to the point for the reason he was there.

"Where is he?"

Fisk closed the laptop on his desk and closed his hands together in front of him, "Careful Brown. I'm not the Fisk of yesterday that bowed at the beck and call of an old man." Fisk stood as his words gained passion. He walked over to the windows which overlooked New York, hands clasped behind his back.

"For years, the residents of this city have been plagued by an endless current of crime and violence. Fathers worried about getting jumped and missing a month of work that would mean no income. Mothers praying that their sons and daughters come home from school safe. Children, roped into a life of crime that eats them and spits them out, but not before ruining the already bleak future they had. Do you think this is just?" asked Fisk as he turned to look at Hobbie. Hobbie continued to remain silent, yet the clenched fist in his jacket revealed some thoughts.

Fisk snorted before walking back over to his desk and sitting down. "Of course you don't. Then again, you know much about injustice. That's why you walk the path you do, why you would destroy a city block filled with people. It's for her isn't it? So many get trapped by her scent, her alluring eyes, and those bright red lips. But her name is revenge and she will never let you go. She will demand everything of you and give nothing back."

"What are you, some type of Kingpin?", Hobbie couldn't help but say mockingly. However, he was starting to worry. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Hobbie memorized those eyes, memorized the hatred that was seeded deep withing the human named Wilson Fisk and for the first time since last night, regretted his actions.

"Where is he?" repeated Hobbie. No matter what happened over the coming days, it would no longer be his problem.

Fisk opened his laptop and turned the screen around. Hobbie grit his teeth at what he saw. On the screen was a location, and the address was his home. A place no one was supposed to know about. Wilson turned the laptop around and gave Hobbie a stone-cold glare.

"Now go. Don't let me see you again."

As Hobbie rushed out of his office, Wilson Fisk thought about what Hobbie said. "Hmm… it's pretty fitting isn't it? I like it. Soon, the world will know me as…"

"Kingpin!".

The bell couldn't ring fast enough. At least that's what Peter thought as students rushed out of their chairs and out of the classroom. The teacher yelled reminders of their homeworks but Peter doubted if anyone could even hear him over the sound of dozens of people talking with each other. It was their lunch break, and for a whole 30 minutes, students could just hang out and eat. Everyone except Peter. You see, he didn't have many friends.

"Well, no friends other than Harry, but he's out in a family trip with his dad somewhere in California. He won't be back for another week, which means a whole week of nothing but…"

"Hey Parker!"

Peter groaned and murmured, "Speak of the devil.".

"You say something?"

"Nothing! I just said that it's great to see you Flash."

Flash and his posse surrounded Peter at his locker. Flash quickly put his arm around Peter's shoulder, making Peter stumble a bit and drop his notebooks.

"You're happy to see me? That's kinda weird man. Anyway, about those cigs, you have any right now?" said Flash as he looked through Peter's open locker in search of a pack. Peter rolled his eyes as he swatted Flash's hands away from his stuff and responded, "I don't smoke Flash. And last time I checked, you don't either.". Finally, Peter closed his locker as soon as Flash moved his hands away.

"Yeah, well, there's a first for everything right? Besides, you smell like smoke, you can't tell me that ain't cigarettes."

"The smell? Well, it's because, um, my Aunt! Well, she… she uh… left the beans cooking while she stepped out the house. Yeah that's it! This right here is the smell of burnt beans infecting the house and our clothes with it's smell… of burnt beans."

Flash blinked twice before erupting in laughter as his friends followed suit. One of them, a jock whose name Peter couldn't even remember said, "C'mon Flash, of course Parker doesn't smoke. Nerds like him worry about chemicals or whatever. Hey, I think I heard that Paul is selling grams. Let's find him and…"

As Flash and his group left, Peter let out a sigh of relief. 'Flash must be in a good mood. He didn't even push me into the lockers this time.'. Peter turned around to pick up his notebooks but someone had beat him to it. Peter gulped as his cheeks turned red. Gwen Stacy, Peter's crush, was standing right next to his locker and had his notebooks. Heck, she was even reading one of them!

"Hmm, nice sketches."

Wait. She was reading his notebook. His Spidey notebook. The one with…

"Wow, you really like Spider-Man. It's kinda cute!", said Gwen as she flipped through the pages.

"Hey, can I get that… wait, you think it's cute?"

Gwen gave him a bright smile and presented his notebooks back to him. Peter blushed again and accepted his notebooks with a quiet "Thank you.". He stood there awkwardly, wishing he could say something. Anything. 'How about "Hey, my name is Peter Parker" That's normal right?'.

Before he could say anything, Gwen said, "Well, see you around Peter." And walked away. Peter watched her walk away, somewhat ashamed that he was staring at her posterior, before heading towards his own classroom. It was almost time for his favorite class, Mechanical Engineering. His professor, Dr. Otto Octavius, was a brilliant teacher and scientist. He and Peter got along excellently. Halfway there, Peter paused as realization hit him.

"Wait, she knows my name?"

Hours later, the students of Midtown High School were finally done for the day. Being a Friday, most students were planning what to do over the weekend. Peter, after waving shyly at Gwen from afar ('She waved back!'), was deciding whether it was worth it to actually return to the ruined city block.

'Maybe I'm being paranoid. It was just a fire in a residential district. Those happen all the time, right'. Peter debated as he headed towards a nearby alley where his Spider-Man suit and gadgets were hidden.

'Yeah, it's probably nothing. I'll patrol a bit then head home. I need to catch up on some sleep. I barely got any last night…'. Thinking about the giant fire last night made his thoughts freeze. All those people hurt or killed. Families forced out of their homes with all of their possessions lost. Family albums, precious memories gone, just like that.

'Jeez, what would Uncle Ben think if he learned I walked away from those people just because I wanted some extra sleep.'

With a clenched fist and renewed vigor, Peter Parker… No, Spider-Man jumped from the rooftop of a building and began swinging towards The Hell's Kitchen area. Feeling the wind rushing past him, Peter let out a cry of joy as he swung from building to building, sometimes catching serious air time. Other times he would swing low, near ground level, to really feel the speed. People would point at him and record him as he zoomed past, and Peter was all too happy to wave and pose. It was good to show these people that the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man was there to protect them.

The Daily Bugle. Home to Pulitzer-Prize winner John Jonah Jameson. The person in question was currently looking out the window of his office, enjoying a warm cup of coffee. What could put the notoriously grumpy J. Jonah Jameson in a good mood? The newspaper on his lap revealed it all. On the front cover of the Daily Bugle newspaper, in large bold letters, read "AMERICA'S HERO: COLONEL JOHN JAMESON TO GO INTO OUTER SPACE!".

"Haha, my son is a hero! Of course, the Jameson blood always wins!" yelled out J.J.J. Outside his office, his personal secretary Betty Brant shook her head, exasperated. 'He's been rambling all day about his son. Will someone just shut him up?'. Immediately after, Betty jumped as she heard a scream from within Jameson's office. Rushing over, Betty asked, "What happened? Are you okay?". Seeing Jonah on the floor, Betty feared the worst (a heart attack from all his smoking) and tried to help him up.

"Bah! I can get up myself.", grunted Jonah as he slapped her hand away. Betty backed up and let him get up by himself, annoyed by his reaction. 'I guess he must be okay', she thought. 'Still, what could get him so riled up?'. Betty's inner question was soon answered as Jonah began to shake his fist to the air.

"That damned costumed freak! Who does he think he is running across my very expensive window? And look, he was trying to kill me! He was trying to burn me to death by having me spill coffee on myself, if the heart attack he purposely tried to give me didn't kill me first! He's a menace and I will find you or my name isn't John Jonah Jameson!"

Betty put her hand to her head as she felt a headache forming.

'Why do I have a bad feeling about this?'

"That's it, I'll give it one more look over and then I'm leaving." Said Spider-Man as he combed through the ruble of the once intact building. Peter didn't really expect to find anything, he wasn't even sure why he was so curious about this accident in the first place. However, something was telling him that whatever happened last night was important. It wasn't exactly Spidey Sense, it was more of a… feeling that he had. Maybe if he let it go and avoided whatever could be happening, it would pose no threat to him. Or maybe his whole Spidey Sense worked differently than he thought?

"My powers are still relatively new to me. For now, Spider Sense is a psychic ability that let's me see into the future? But it only warns me of danger when it's about to happen, so it's not exactly that. It's also not just when I'm in danger. Last night my Spider Sense went haywire due to the fire but I myself was never in danger. Maybe it's… wait, who is that?". Peter jumped into a nearby light post as he spotted a figure creeping around the wreckage. It was getting dark out, but Peter could still see the figure. It looked like a man clad in all black wearing a… motorcycle helmet?

"Wait, why is he wearing a motorcycle helmet when he isn't on a motorcycle? And where did he come from? I didn't hear any motorcycle nearby." Whispered Peter to himself.

Spider-Man continued to watch the figure from the vantage point. Motorcycle Man - as Peter dubbed him - was looking through the wreckage of what was once The Bar With No Name (as police identified it), specifically poking through the part that would have once been the bar. Motorcycle Man looked around as if confirming no one was around, then starting punching the structure of the bar.

"What is he doing? Was he a worker here or something?". Wanting a closer look, Spidey decided to come in closer. He couldn't web or crawl to the side of the buildings since they would fall apart, but the darkness around the was plenty for Spider-Man. He soon got as close as he could without entering the building and decided to wait there. In the time it took for him to do that, Motorcycle Man seemed to break through whatever material the bar table was made out of. He fit a hand inside and moved it about, obviously looking for something. After a few attempts, Motorcycle Man found something and cried out excitedly.

"It's like he found his hidden porn stash after his mom cleaned his room. Uh, not like I would know. Nope, not me".

Whatever he found, Motorcycle Man was looking to get out in a hurry. 'Maybe don't run in a burned building? What if…' Just then a wooden support fell on top of Motorcycle Man, hitting him in the head. 'And that boys and girls, is why we wear helmets in broken down buildings. Oh no, time to run!' Thought Spider-Man, and Motorcycle Man as the whole building seemed to be falling apart.

Peter was about to pull Motorcycle Man to safety with his webs when he noticed that Motorcycle Man was pretty fast himself. Soon, the whole building collapsed, leaving Spidey no way to investigate what the guy was looking for.

"Well, time to catch the guy.". As soon as he said that, he somersaulted all the way to Motorcycle Man who was running away into the street. Spider-Man landed in front of him, startling Motorcycle Man. Spidey put his hands up in a peaceful manner and said, "Whoa there Motorcycle Man, I'm not here to check out your ride. I just wanna know what it is you found in there.".

Motorcycle Man tensed up even more. "He sent you didn't he? Well, tell your boss that he should have been more careful before messing with da Family!" said Motorcycle Man before throwing out a punch right to our hero's jaw. Spider-Man easily dodged the blow and backed away a bit.

"Slow down there M.M, I just want to know if someone purposely caused this fire?". M.M put the object - a flash drive - into his left pocket before charging towards the street. "You think you can trick me huh? Well, tell Kingpin that he'll get what's coming for him. He wants a war? He will get one!".

"Wait! War? What war? Whose Kingpin? Ah, dammit.". Spider-Man watched as they guy got into the car, intending to follow him to his secret lair. Instead, Peter watched in shock as lightning seemed to surround the car, followed by something Peter would never think was possible. The car transformed right before his eyes from a simple Ponda into a tricked out race car! "Wait, what just happened? Are those rocket boosters?!"

M.M rolled down the window and laughed out loud as he gave the middle finger to Spidey.

"So long sucker! By the way, the names Overdrive!" And with that, Overdrive sped off in a speed Spidey wasn't sure he could catch up to. Peter was left hanging, open-mouthed, at what he just saw.

"Was that my first villain?".

"Master, Overdrive has arrived."

"Good, let him in."

Overdrive walked in as soon as the door opened. Seeing his boss waiting for him, Overdrive gave a small vow before reaching for the item he was sent to retrieve.

"I got the flash drive right here boss."

"Good, you have done well. Were there any complications?"

Overdrive scratched his butt as he answered, "Not much. Just some costumed freak poking his nose where it don't belong. He was asking about the fire, thinks it was more than a gas leak. Haha, well he would be right, but he'll never know."

His boss sat up in thought. After a few seconds, he responded, "And did you deal with this nuisance?"

Overdrive let out a small cough. "Well, you see, he seemed kinda young, so I just warned him, ya' know? I event acted like I was part of the Maggia to make sure it wouldn't trace back to us."

His boss stood up and walked towards one of his cabinet where a picture of his family was proudly displayed. "Next time, kill him. We can't take any chances."

Overdrive gulped as he felt the energy coming off his boss. "Yessir. Shall I deliver the flash drive to one of the Maggia heads?". His boss grabbed the frame of the picture before placing it face down.

"Do it. With the surveillance footage, they'll know it was Kingpin and that Prowler figure that killed Don Rigoletto. The Maggia will have no choice but to wage a war on the traitor Wilson Fisk, who is also amassing an army of low-life scum. Soon, they will destroy each other and only I will be left to pick up the crown. Only I will control the underworld!"

Overdrive shook in fear as the energy his boss was giving off overwhelmed him. Quickly giving a shaky vow, Overdrive left the room to go secretly deliver the flash drive to a low-level Maggia member.

Now alone in his office, the man put back the picture to it's original position.

"Forgive me father, mother. I did not want you to see me like that. Don't worry, soon I will have my revenge. Soon, this will be over."

"I promise."