"Cloning. It may not seem like it would play a factor in evolution, but it does. One organism of one species on the brink of extinction can't survive on its own. If we were able to achieve the factors of cloning a nearly extinct organism, and we have, then we would be able to make an identical copy of a said organism. But since they share the same genetic makeup, they would be unable to reproduce, so I got to thinking, hybrids. What if we cloned the dolphins' genetic makeup? Dolphins have never been known to survive on land, but what if we took that one step further and embed them with the genetic makeup of an aquatic animal that can live in freshwater. We clone the DNA, mix it with a freshwater animal, and the species of dolphin will continue to live on with innovation if it is successful."

Peter asked, "What kind of animals would there be that could support the dolphin's DNA?

"We are looking for an aquatic animal that can live in freshwater, so a bull shark for example."

"But, how would this help humans if we were to do this process on ourselves?"

"Well, since diseases are primarily that widespread is wiping us out, one thing that we could do is clone our DNA and fuse it with an organism that has a superior immune system. We can't shield ourselves from every weaponized agent, so why not make our immune system stronger. Human hybrids. If it all plans out, then we all humans can become a population of hybrids immune to all diseases and illnesses. I got tons of other ideas on how to make better hybrids. Today, we're going to be doing experiments with replication. We will be dissecting two different species today: A frog and a baby shark. Your job is to gather as much as you can on both species and try to find at least one common factor. By the end of class, since this is the only one hour class period of the day, you and your partner will be provided bags to put the creatures in to take home. Your homework assignment is to analyze and interpret what could happen if these different species were to be combined into hybrids. That is all, so let's start cooking."

Max had snuck into the classroom and tried to walk over to his seat stealthy but Miles caught him. "You're late, first warning."

Max groaned in discontent before taking his seat next to Quentin. Quentin did not waste any time to mock Max by referencing the TV Trope to him, "So Much for Stealth, check."

"Enough with the TV Tropes," Max complained to him.

The rest of the hour was actually a blast. Peter had fun with the frog and the shark, and now Harry was taking the shark home while Peter was taking the frog home. When the bell rang for lunch, Peter stepped into the hallway with his backpack over his shoulders. He ran into Gwen along the way. Since they had the same lunch period, he decided to walk with Gwen to her table, talking nervously.

"Hi Gwen," Peter began, all nervousness vanishing. "I haven't seen you since Homecoming."

"You abandoned me," Gwen reminded and Peter sincerely apologized. "But I'm not gonna hold it against you. I'm sorry for your loss, I wanted to tell you that in person, but never saw you around for a while."

"Thanks," Peter replied, grateful of all the support that he was getting in the mourning of his uncle. "It happened a month ago and we made sure that Uncle Ben got his proper funeral."

"How's your aunt doing?"

"Aunt May? Oh, she is doing fine. We're still trying to pick up the pieces, but everything is working out for now." It was then when he saw an overhead TV with Betty Brant and her co-anchor (whatever his name is) doing a report on Spiderman stopping a bank robbery and car chase.

I remember Ned saying that he really likes Betty….maybe I should set up a date.

"Did you hear about that spider guy?" Gwen asked Peter as she looked up at the news report. She voiced her interest in the spider as: "One man stopped a car with his bare hands going at forty miles an hour and he locked away four criminals with a passenger in the back."

"Yeah," Peter smirk, proud of all of his accomplishments in his double life. "He must be some guy," a slight hint of enthusiasm in his speech bubble.

"He's not some guy, he's a spider."

Peter suddenly remembered Gwen's love for spiders and he clutched his jaw to contain his excitement. "Oh uh….yeah. He's a man with the attributes of a spider, or maybe it's the other way around." He decided to play with Gwen for her love of spiders. "Maybe he's a spider with the attributes of a human."

"That sounds even cooler. Whoever this Spiderman is, he is a good person for helping all those people." She failed to notice Peter's smile on his face. "I wish I was like him."

"Yyyyyeah, you could be like him if you knew where he was from. He could be an alien for all we know. Maybe he's a woman." He realized his statement and corrected himself. "But if we were to look at Spiderman's torso, he would have a chest, not b-" He smacked his palms to his mouth, unable to say that word out loud in front of Gwen.

"I would love to get to meet him."

"Really? What would you tell him?" He edges slightly closer but not too much.

"I would ask him what does it feel like to be swinging on webs, leaping from great heights, crawl a wall, get praised for saving a life."

Peter already knew that feeling like the beating of his own heart and it felt magnificent. "Well, I'm pretty sure he is happy about his job. If you want, I can ask him myself."

Gwen stared at Peter with interest, ignoring the TV completely. "You know him?"

"Nnnnooo," he had to get himself out of this situation. "But I am applying for a job at the Daily Globe to see if I could get pictures of Spiderman." He just hoped that she would buy it. He mentally slapped himself because he just told a lie and in order to turn that lie into the truth, he would have to go apply right now after school.

"So let me get this straight: You are going to apply for a job at the Daily Globe to be Spiderman's personal photographer?"

"Well," Peter tried to explain. "I mean, I will try to get good shots of Spiderman and then see if the Daily Globe will buy them from me. After that, hopefully, I work there."

"So after that, then the two of you will hopefully have conversations together?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded positively. "Just like that. I'll even have him answer any question that you want."

"If you do get the job and you do become his personal photographer, could you introduce me to him when the time is right?"

Peter's face was frozen completely with a neutral expression. Inside, Peter was fuming with anxiety. How am I, Peter Parker, going to stand in the same room with Spiderman when I am Spiderman?

"Uhh….yeah, I'll see what I can do." He pretended to check his watch and started walking. "Well, I should get going, the chicken sandwiches are on limited supply.

Gwen smiled as she stared at Peter walk off with his back turned to her. He's cute, she thought. He obviously has a crush on me; he asked me to stay with him when he was bitten by that spider. Wait, that spider!

When school ended, Peter raced out the other side of the school. He leaped over the fence and ran off for more patrol. He had been thinking about what he impulsively said to Gwen about being his own personal photographer. It could help him with money and more importantly, help lower suspicions on him being the masked vigilante. It could most certainly work.

Peter decided to 'swing' on over to the Daily Globe to see if they would hire him for freelance. He had photography skills, which is pretty much all is needed to get a job there. Dressed in his casual clothing, he walked from an alley to the tall standing Daily Globe building a block away. As he was walking, he saw a man come out of the front doors in blue jeans and a white sweater with brown hair. From a distance, Peter could not recognize him, but once he got closer, he recognized the man as….

"Eddie Brock." (Played by Tom Hardy)

Peter was a huge fan of Eddie Brock and his investigative reporting. Every time the Eddie Brock show was on, Peter would flip to it every single time, not missing a single episode. He had totally forgotten that Eddie Brock worked at the Daily Globe and the fact that if the Daily Globe did hire him, then he would get to work with the Eddie Brock himself. Peter could not believe himself. He knew he had to make a good entrance because first impressions are always important. He licked his hand and ran it through his hair and tugged on his shirt to make sure it wasn't wrinkled and walked up toward Eddie as if he didn't notice him before, stopping only when he passed Eddie.

"Eddie Brock," Peter called out, successfully catching the celebrity's attention. "Are you the Eddie Brock of The Eddie Brock Report?"

"What do you think, kid," Eddie spoke, not stopping as he walked. "You a fan?"

Peter shifted directions to follow him. "I'm a huge fan. I have seen every single episode of The Eddie Brock Report. I've seen the episode where you uncovered an illegal diamond mine in Madagascar. I've seen the episode where you discovered an underworld caging match headed by the chief of the police force in London. You exposed the Life Foundation for doing tests on homeless volunteers that are more often than not, killed as a result. After that, people called it the Death Foundation, not a single employee ever went flying into outer space again."

To Eddie, this was probably the biggest fan he has ever met. "Well, I'm glad you enjoy the show. I'm actually relocating to San Francisco. Today will be my last day here for a while."

Peter's heart suddenly sank. "What? You're leaving for California and never coming back to New York?"

"It's not permanent; I'll return eventually. My wife has a big trial going on and I have a big story coming up soon." Eddie patted Peter on the shoulder as they walked, smiling. "You'll probably see it both on both the show and on the news."

"What kind of stories?"

"Well, my wife has been called to the biggest court trial of the century to put away the serial killer of the twenty-first century. Me, I get the interview of a lifetime with the twenty-first-century killer."

"I will definitely watch both. I was just about to apply for a job at the Daily Globe," Peter mentioned. "Any advice since you worked there for three years?"

"Well, what kind of job do you want there?"

Peter answered, "I want to be a photographer. I want to take pictures of Spiderman and sell them to the Daily Globe."

"Wow," Eddie said, impressed. "Taking pictures of that web-head vigilante. What a big job. Well listen, kid, there is a reason the Daily Globe is called the 'Daily Globe.' Their stories are supposed to cover the globe. If there was another Bubonic Plague outbreak spreading all over Germany and Poland, then the Daily Globe will be the ones to report on it. Spiderman is stationed only in New York, and the Daily Bugle covers stories specifically in New York. So unless you want to be an all-time global reporter or investigative reporter, then I suggest applying for the Daily Bugle."

Peter struggled to keep a straight face. As much as he wanted to work at the Daily Globe, he realized that with his responsibilities with being Spiderman, that would prohibit him from leaving the country on a regular basis. He only wanted to work at the Daily Globe so he could be Spiderman's personal photographer and indirectly answer any questions Gwen has for Spidey. But since the Daily Bugle was for New York only, Peter decided to take Eddie's advice and decide on applying for the Daily Bugle.

"Well, thanks a lot for the advice Mr. Brock, I really appreciate it." Peter shook his hand one more time before Eddie Brock walked off in the direction of his car and drove in the direction of the airport. Peter was a little saddened that one of his heroes was not going to be here in New York, but for Eddie, he was going to hold his chin high and walk in the direction of the Daily Bugle.

"Excuse me, young man," an elderly voice spoke beside him. Peter turned and saw an old man with white hair and black sunglasses. (Stan Lee cameo dedicated to Stan Lee) "Are you that young man from The Eddie Brock Report?"

Peter shook his head. "No, I'm not Eddie Brock."

"What?" The old man squinted through his black sunglasses and realized his mistake. "Oh yeah, Eddie Brock is much younger than you are. I'm sorry ma'am." He pats Peter on the shoulder and walks off, leaving Peter standing in the middle of the street, confused.

Peter wasted no time and raced towards the Daily Bugle building and ran inside.

While he was waiting in line for a visitor's pass, he spotted someone sitting on a couch in the visitor's center. He recognized this person reading this book as Michelle Jones.

"Michelle," he waved to her. She pretended to ignore him and continued reading. "Michelle, it's me, Peter." She still ignored him and he decided that maybe this wasn't the right time. The second he turned away, Michelle peaked up at him and stared for a second before looking back down at her book. Why did she ignore Peter, she had no idea why.

Peter threw on a visitor's pass and took an elevator to the top floor. Stepping out of an elevator and into a large office filled with desks and receptionists, he recognizes one face in the crowd near one of the windows and walks near them. "Betty Brant?"

Betty Brant sat in a chair positioned next to a closed window, gazing out into nothing before being called by Peter. She recognized him and smiled gleefully. "Peter, oh my god, what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here," Peter countered.

"I work here," Betty explained. "I work here just to deliver coffee to and from bosses. I'm a gopher basically. What are you doing here?"

Maybe I can set Ned up with Betty.

"I'm here to file for a job. I brought my camera in my backpack." Peter was relieved that he knew at least one person mutually at this new place that he hoped to get a job. "I want to be a photographer here."

"Well," Betty began. "That's nice. You want to see the boss, he's in his office. His name is J. Jonah Jameson."

"Why does that name sound so familiar?"

"His son's an astronaut, used to work for some kind of currently disbanded big-time corporation in San Francisco."

Eddie, Peter thought. "Well, thank you for letting me know, Betty. I should be getting a move on if I want to get this job." Peter waved her off and she wished him good luck. Peter was nervous at first but found the courage to walk through those two doors leading to a big office with a big window and a big desk. The man in the chair had his back turned to him and he did not face Peter until the doors closed by themselves.

"Hi," Peter said nervously. "I want a job here."

Slowly and dramatically, the man in the chair turned around and faced Peter. An aging man with gray sideburns and dark hair with a pencil mustache. He had a cigar in his mouth and had a grouchy voice. "Don't we all?"

"Well," Peter began to explain. "I want to be a photo-"

Jameson interrupted him. "What skills do you got?"

"I am good at taking-"

"What's your name, son?"

"Peter Parker. You're J. Jonah Jameson."

"Everybody knows who I am, what do you want and why?"

"I want to be a photographer here at the Daily Bugle." Peter was crossing his fingers, hoping that he would not be declined. "I'm fifteen, but I have remarkable photography skills. I'm president of the photography club back in Midtown."

"You go to MSST? You must be really smart and must have a whole career planned out and you want to be a photographer for the Daily Bugle? Does that just warm my heart? What makes you think you can just get a job at the Daily Bugle?"

Now Peter panicked slightly that he was about to be declined in the job offer. "Well, I figured that the Daily Bugle was having trouble trying to take a decent photo of the Spiderman and I wanted to see if I could get a job here and sell my Spiderman photos here."

Jameson removed the cigar from his mouth, smoke flying into Peter's face, making him cough softly. "Did I get the job?"

Jameson said nothing. For the longest thirty seconds of his life, Peter observed as Jameson put his cigar out in an ashtray. "You really think you can get pictures of Spiderman? Decent pictures of Spiderman?"

Peter swallowed a lump in his throat, sweat starting to seep through his skin on his forehead. "Yes, I think I can get good photos of Spiderman."

"You think?" Jameson asked, emphasized the last word. "You don't know if you can get pictures of the wall-crawling menace?"

Peter cast him a confused look upon hearing his alter-ego being called a menace. "I know I can get photos and menace? He saved that bus full of people. I also heard that he saved a woman from bank robbers just this morning or something. Why do you think he's a menace?"

"He's probably in cahoots with those bank robbers. There is something that goes wrong and this freak in a mask shows up. Why do I hear he flees the scene?"

"Maybe he's going to save someone else. He's a hero."

"If he's a hero, then why does he wear a mask? What's he got to hide?"

"Maybe he wears a mask to protect his identity."

"Not protect, hide. He's a criminal who only tries to make New York his own playground! If he was a hero, then he wouldn't be wearing a mask and he wouldn't be stopping the police and fire department from doing their jobs! He's a menace and I intend to prove it! Tell you what kid: You get me some decent photos of that criminal, and maybe I'll give you a job."

Peter gasped with happiness. "Thank you so much, Mr. Jameson."

"You're welcome, Parker," Jameson spoke up as he walked around his desk and patted the young boy on the back. The next thing he said had Peter startled. "Now get out of my office!"

Peter wasted no time and ran out of the room, closing the doors behind him, and back into the big room with Betty. He approached her and smiled warmly at her. "I assume that you heard him shouting in there," Peter chuckled. Betty asked how it went. "He said that if I bring him some photos of Spiderman, then he would give me a job here."

Betty seems delighted by this because she showed him around the office of news reports framed on the wall. "Knowing you, you are a good photographer, Peter. Maybe your picture will be on this wall." Betty showed Peter framed pictures of a news article saying, "Mysterious Burglar Steals One Million Dollar Diamond From History Museum." Another framed report on "Stanley Carter and MacDonald Gargan: Suspects In Assassination."

"You really think I can make it here at the Daily Bugle, Betty?"

"Of course, Pete. Oh, and about your Uncle Ben, I'm really sorry. I know what it's like to lose somebody close."

Peter thanked her for her concern. Peter knew she understood. A couple of years ago, when Betty was around her pre-teen years, her mother and brother, Eleanor and Bennett Brant, were killed in a head-on collision when a truck swerved into traffic after it hit a patch of black ice. Betty and her father were in the car, but only they survived. Peter remembered that Betty could not eat for a whole week. Peter guessed that Betty was starting to remember her mother and brother because a single tear was starting to seep from her tear duct. Peter's emotional empathy leads him to hug and comfort her.

Hours later, Peter finished his patrol as Spiderman and swung home. He had forgotten his house key this morning, so he had to climb into his house through his bedroom window. He never left the window unlocked, and right now, he was grateful that it was nighttime due to low visibility.

Spiderman climbed into his bedroom, crawling across the ceiling to the slightly ajar door and closed it very softly and quietly. Spiderman drops to the ground and starts stripping himself of his costume.

"Peter," Aunt May called out.

"Crap," Peter said before muttering a curse under his breath. He webs his costume to the roof and hopes that Aunt May would not notice again. He jumped into bed and covered himself with the blankets. He quickly reached over towards his table lamp and shuts it off before pretending to fall asleep. Aunt May opened the door to see her nephew lying in bed, sleeping peacefully. She rarely had seen him sleep since the death of his uncle, but it still brought a smile to her face to see her nephew sleeping as that appeared to be the only place where he found peace.

"I guess I can tell you in the morning." She slowly shuts the door, blowing her unconscious nephew a kiss. "Sweet dreams."

Upon hearing the click of the door, one of Peter's eyes opened in the dark. He grumbled to himself; Aunt May wanted to tell him something and he pretends to be asleep? He was slapping himself across the forehead for his stupidity. He sat upon his bed and ran a hand through his hair. He could not sleep due to night crimes, but he could not let his aunt hear him using a radio in his room when it was a school night. Instead, he grabs a walkman, sets it on the lowest volume possible, and puts in one wireless earbud and drifts off to sleep, metaphorically sleeping with one eye open in case there was a crime in progress.

Back at an Oscorp Facility in Queens, Jackal sat down on a leather couch in his mask, in a small room lit only by a single table lamp and watched replays as Spiderman saved a bus from an oncoming car. This is what he has been watching all morning. He just kept replaying and replaying the single clip for the last seventeen hours.

"That webhead," Jackal spoke softly. "I'll make you better," he viciously declared.

Jackal walked back into a lab of the Oscorp facility. The lab had one gas chamber on the southeast corner of the room while on the northwest corner of the room was a huge tank full of water. Inside the gas chamber, as Jackal scooted closer, was Norman Osborn unconscious in a gas mask with green smoke filling up the chamber. Jackal glared with a smile before looking over to a monitor of computers to his right. The Performance Enhancers were starting to take effect and soon, Norman will lose all of his sanity.

As for the huge tank filled with water, an Otto Octavius stripped down to his boxer briefs slept in the tank with a pair of goggles over his eyes and a breathing tube around his mouth. The process of surgically inserting the four Octo arms to his spinal cord was forty percent complete and the neural interface, one hundred percent ready and prepared for when Otto awakens.

Jackal looked at both prisoners and vowed to their unconscious minds, "If you guys are successful in taking down Spiderman, then I will let you guys be free. Free to be whoever you want, whatever you want and not even Captain George Stacy will be able to do anything about it or Spiderman."

Everything he said, had a whole different meaning to it.