"So, tell me 'bout your uncle Ben."

"He, uh, was a journalist. Retired, almost a decade. Married my aunt May, they truly loved one another. My parents just...well, they vanished. So they brought me up. The, uh, last time I talked to my uncle, we...we we're having this argument over how I'd forgotten to pick my aunt up. I stormed out, he came looking for me. I saw him...I saw him jerk as bullets hit him, fall as that...that thing, that monster ran. I saw, saw what life is and what it could be. I saw the responsibilities of our actions. That's what my uncle used to tell me. With great power, there must also come great responsibility."

"I like that. Listen, kid, if there's anything I can do, for you or your aunt-"

"Thanks, Mr Stark-"

"Please, Tony."

"-Tony. But it's ok."

"Listen, about these powers. We're gonna work on them."

"What, you're gonna make into some kind of Iron Lad?"

"I was thinking Iron Boy, but if it's Lad you want..."

Pepper walked inside.

"Oh, sorry-"

"Pepper, this is Peter Parker. He's a new friend."

"Hey Peter."

"Hi, Mrs Potts."

Pepper beckoned Tony outside.

"Who's the kid?"

"Someone we're helping."

"So, we're a charity now?"

"Well..."

"You're supposed to talk to me about any-"

"Listen, if we're being honest there's something I haven't told you."

"Which is?"

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

Pepper froze, and looked at him.

"Is that-"

"Our automated system integrated with the basic vocal patterns and thought process as our ex-butler? Of course. Now, if you'll excuse me I've got a protégé waiting."

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Tony Masters had been living rough for a few months now. His abilities were enough to keep him going, to keep him hoisted up at the top of the chain, as was his charisma.

Of course, there had been the simplest of roadblocks. The death of that old-timer, for one. Not something he'd intended to do, but something that was irreversible and highly unfortunate for others.

He was a great thief, but not when modern day saints who tried to stop him.

lllllllllllllllllllllllllll

"Protégé?"

"So you could hear me?"

"Yep. You should invest in relationship advice and sound proofing."

"We're not in a- oh, never mind. So, uh, you in the mood for inventing?"

"Depends."

"On what, materials? Instructor? Location?"

"On what you want to make."

"Well, you're basically a spider human. Let's get you some webs."

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"You sure about this, Tony?"

"Yes. Well. No, but kinda. Just try it out."

There was an object, not too dissimilar to a watch, strapped to Peter's right wrist. It had a carefully balanced pressure pad which was attached to a shooting mechanism. He pressed two fingers down on the pad, and the shooter fizzed out and did nothing.

"The cable's jammed."

"I know a substitute," Peter said, removing the shooter, "it's an adhesive, pretty strong too. I developed it to hold super-heavy models. Should support anything from a person to a bus or maybe even a building."

"Are you sure you're not secretly me from the past?"

Twenty minutes later, Peter came back with a small metal desk. He inserted it into the web-shooter and pressed down on the pad. This time, a sticky, strong stream of webbing flew out and hit the opposite wall.

"How long does this stuff stay solid?"

"Dissolve rate varies. I mean, I have a batch that'll last forever, whereas I also have one that only lasts five minutes."

"And this one?"

"Five minutes."

"Good. You got a costume?"

"Sketches of one, I guess."

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Tony stared at the costume Peter had designed, with awe. It was mainly a strong red, with a blue motif which ran from under the arms, around the torso, and ending in the small of his back. There was a light webbing design on the costume too. The mask covered the entire head, and had big white eyes with black borders. It was the same colour as the suit. There were small areas cut out for the web-shooters at the wrists, too, and a pocket for holding web cartridges.

"So, we need a name for me."

"I was thinking Superman."

"How about Spider-Man? Sounds less...less pretentious."

"Fine. Spider-Man. The Amazing Spider-Man, the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man."

"The slightly fed up Spider-Man..."

"Master Stark, a man matching Masters' description has been spotted at a downtown bank." interjected Jarvis.

"Any hostages?"

"Three, sir."

He looked to Peter.

"We're up."