Cindy Moon awakened abruptly, her eyes widening as she drew in a sharp breath. It was only upon her second inhalation that she realized she had returned to the confines of her own bedroom. She blinked up at the ceiling above her, her chest rising and falling rapidly as the remnants of panic dissipated from her system. The familiar darkness surrounding her did little to alleviate the lingering tension.

She shifted her position and directed her gaze towards the window on her right side. Strips of sunlight seeped through the blinds, casting a gentle glow upon Cindy's bedroom floor. Emitting a groan, she propelled herself upright and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, allowing them to rest upon the cool wooden planks below. Cradling her head in her hands, Cindy took a calming breath to steady herself.

Cindy gently closed her eyes, allowing her delicate fingertips to tenderly massage her temples. She could feel the tension gradually dissipating, like a gentle breeze dispersing the clouds. It was a relief to discover that this time, the intensity of her nightmares had diminished. Lately, they had plagued her with alarming frequency, but now, they seemed to have lost their vividness, fading into the recesses of her mind.

Cindy let out a weary sigh and gently ran her hand through her hair as she made her way towards the bathroom. With a graceful motion, she closed the door behind her and effortlessly flicked the switch, causing the lights to illuminate the room, revealing its true sharpness and brightness.

Cindy cast a fleeting glance at her reflection in the mirror. The recollection of her visit to the science exhibit with her secret boyfriend, Hector Cervantez, resurfaced in her thoughts. She vividly recalled the awe-inspiring display of cutting-edge technologies, only to be abruptly interrupted by a sudden pang of pain shooting through her foot.

Everything turned dark and here she was. Back in her room.

Cindy delicately extended her arm and grasped the washcloth gracefully suspended in the sink. She employs her unoccupied hand to gently rotate the faucet handle to the highest degree of warmth. She moistened the cloth and commenced the act of cleansing her countenance. After eradicating the grime from her own cheeks and chin, Cindy placed the washcloth upon the countertop. While she proceeded to rinse her oral cavity, Cindy redirected her gaze towards her own reflection in the mirror, once again.

"Huh..?" She breathed out, taking in the details of the new image presented before her.

To the best of Cindy's knowledge, she had perpetually possessed a slender physique. She was by no means muscular, and if someone were to pass by her, they would undoubtedly observe this fact. However, instead of encountering her customary figure, she discovered that the individual standing in front of her was actually quite well-toned. The person's arms appeared robust, yet not excessively brawny. In truth, they seemed more befitting of a gymnast. Even the person's legs appeared to possess a commendable level of toning and well-defined shape.

Cindy's gaze delicately traced the firm outline of one of them, her mouth gently parting in awe of the sight. Her eyes blinked swiftly, abruptly becoming acutely conscious of her own physique. Cindy raised her other arm, meticulously scrutinizing the curvature of her biceps and forearms, as well as the graceful flex of her tricep.

"Where did all this come from?" Cindy muttered under her breath, still staring at her hands. She balled both of them into fists experimentally, watching as the veins in the palms flexed and bulged against her fingers.

A knock at the door pulled Cindy from her reverie, breaking the strange trance she'd fallen into.

"Cindy!" Nari, Cindy's mother, called from behind the door.

Cindy blinked rapidly. She looked back at herself in the mirror and returned. "Yeah?"

"If you're planning to take a shower, don't stay in for too long, or you'll be late for school." Nari said.

Cindy nodded her head. "Okay Mom."

After a brief interlude in the shower, Cindy proceeded to search through her wardrobe and made the decision to don a cyan-colored t-shirt, accompanied by gray shorts. She then elegantly fastened her hair into a ponytail. Following this, she slipped her feet into her shoes and conscientiously examined her phone.

To her relief, there were no messages from Hector as of yet. It would be more prudent to engage in conversation with him during school hours. Cindy nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders and securely placed her phone in her pocket. She then retrieved her backpack and gracefully descended the stairs, making her way to the kitchen.

Seated at the table, Albert Moon was engrossed in perusing the newspaper, attired in his customary attire from the previous day. He sported a blue sweater, wore spectacles, donned black jeans, and adorned his feet with gray loafers. Diverting his attention away from the aforementioned newspaper, he directed his gaze towards Cindy and bestowed upon him a warm smile.

"Morning sweetheart." Albert greeted as Cindy approached.

"Morning Dad." Cindy returned, smiling back.

Cindy's gaze shifted towards her mother. For someone who was in their forties, Nari Moon was surprisingly youthful looking—she still looked great despite her wrinkles. She had short black hair that slightly spilled over the nape of her neck. Smooth tan skin and a beauty mark at the left of her cheek.

Her brown eyes showed great experience. She wore a long sleeve yellow jacket, a black v-neck t-shirt underneath, ocean blue jeans, and white sneakers.

Nari smiled at Cindy, then motioned towards the bag sitting on the table's center. "I've already made your lunch." She explained.

"Thanks," Cindy said, smiling as she moved towards the bag. She peeked inside to find a well-made sandwich inside a plastic container with his name written elegantly in cursive script on top.

Cindy unzipped the back pocket of her backpack and shoved her bag inside before zipping it back up. Throwing her arms through both straps, she starts towards the main door. However, before he could twist the knob, she glanced at her parents over her shoulder.

"Bye Mom, bye Dad." Cindy chirped, pulling open the door, stepping outside and shutting it tight behind her.

"Take care sweet-pea." Albert replied.

"Have fun at school." Nari added.

Shortly after Cindy descended the stairs, the bus arrived adjacent to her family's residence. The doors gracefully opened, and Cindy embarked with poise. The bus proceeded forward, rumbling towards its subsequent destination. Making several stops in various parts of the neighborhood, Cindy encountered a few other children along the way, eventually settling into her designated seat beside Hector.

"Morning butterfly." Hector greeted Cindy with a smile.

"Morning Hector." Cindy returned with a peck on his cheek.

"You sleep well?" Hector asked, tilting his head.

Cindy nodded. "Yup, like a little angel.

"But you are an angel, aren't you not, Cindy Moon?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Yup."

The delightful couple shared a pleasant chuckle and engaged in conversation on various subjects while awaiting the arrival of the bus that would transport them to the school. The first topic that came to Hector's mind was the Chief Executive Officer of Stark Industries, a bold yet brilliant inventor by the name of Anthony Edward "Tony" Stark, or simply Tony Stark. He was an industrious individual who described himself as a genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist. With his immense wealth and exceptional technical expertise, Stark emerged as one of the most influential figures in the world following the tragic loss of his parents.

However, Hector's mention of this billionaire is not solely due to his remarkable achievements. Hector vividly recalls watching the news from the comfort of his own home, where he learned of a terrorist attack in Afghanistan involving Tony Stark. This distressing news caused Cindy and those acquainted with Mr. Stark to feel a sense of concern, particularly when the news anchor reported that he was missing. It has now been ten days since the incident, and the authorities have yet to locate him.

In response to this situation, the media has formulated two theories. Theory A suggests that Mr. Stark may have been killed by the terrorist, with his body dismembered for the killer's perverse pleasure, and subsequently buried in an undisclosed location to hinder the discovery of his remains. Theory B proposes that Mr. Stark has been abducted by the aforementioned terrorist and is currently being held captive in an undisclosed location, rendering him untraceable. The media noted importantly that neither of these theories has been confirmed as true or false, leaving Cindy uncertain about the veracity of either. Her only wish is for Mr. Stark's prompt rescue.

In a timely manner, the bus arrived at their intended destination. One by one, the students disembarked, with Cindy and Hector being the final individuals to alight.

The pair commenced their journey towards the main entrance. Upon Cindy's entrance, she cast her gaze around the vicinity. The extensive corridors on either side were teeming with a multitude of students, engaged in animated conversations amongst themselves. She espied a number of visages that she recognized, albeit not all. The students cordially greeted one another, engaging in light banter, discussing their post-class aspirations. A triumvirate of young ladies gracefully strolled past, their laughter resonating harmoniously.

A tingling sensation ran down from Cindy's skull towards her spine. She halted her tracks and stared forward. There was a second tingle, akin to the sensation of electricity running jolting through her body. She shuddered as goose bumps covered her skin like thousands of tiny ants crawling from all over.

Cindy whipped over her shoulder. She found none but multitudes of students walking down the same direction she and Hector were heading. She couldn't discern where the source was coming from.

"Cindy?"

Cindy turned her gaze towards Hector.

He stared at her with a raised brow. "Are you alright?"

Cindy blinked. She shook her head and waved her hand at him. "Oh, yeah. I'm okay."

Cindy and Hector continued walking down the hall. She brought up her right hand and rubbed her temples. Dimly hoping for the weird buzzing in her head to go away.

She didn't notice Peter, not too far behind her, also rubbing his temples.

Cindy observed a sign at the end of the corridor, elegantly displaying the inscription 'Room 6 – Classroom 1'. Intrigued, she proceeded in the direction indicated by the sign. Along her path, Cindy gracefully passed by a series of doors, which she presumed to be classrooms. Amongst these doors, one happened to be ajar, allowing the gentle resonance of a woman's voice to escape into the corridor. Fueled by curiosity, Cindy cautiously peered into the room.

Within the confines of the classroom, a multitude of students had already assembled. The majority of them were seated upon desks, engaging in conversations and discussions pertaining to the various subjects that had captured their attention during class time. Positioned near the front, a solitary female student diligently inscribed her thoughts upon a notebook, her pen gliding across the paper with fervor.

In close proximity, three young ladies shared a jovial moment, their laughter resonating as they exchanged banter and jests. Overseeing this harmonious scene an esteemed lady, adorned with spectacles, stood beside her desk, attentively observing the collective.

The teacher gestured for every student to sit down while Cindy, Hector, and the others trailing behind them to head to their designated seats. Cindy un-strapped her backpack and placed it next to her feet.

Thus the second day of school begins.

Class proceeded with great speed. Cindy listened intently as Ms. Foster eloquently delivered her lecture, providing comprehensive explanations of the various subjects that would be covered in the textbooks and literature of varying lengths. The subjects encompassed history, chemistry, physics, and a smattering of biology.

Cindy dedicates a significant portion of her time during class to meticulously transcribing pertinent details regarding the subjects discussed in her notes. She diligently records the salient facts that are presented by the instructor, all the while endeavoring to disregard the peculiar buzzing sensation within her mind.

"I blame you for this!"

A fresh day had dawned upon the esteemed research and development center of OsCorp, yet not all within its walls were filled with contentment. Dr. Adrian Toomes, a gentleman of advanced age in his early sixties, adorned with a smooth, bald cranium and a peculiarly shaped nose reminiscent of a beak, found himself engaged in a spirited discourse. Presently, his impassioned words were directed towards a portly scientist, donning goggles, who bore the name of Dr. Otto Octavius.

"You told me to bring my Magnetic Air Transport System to OsCorp!" Adrian yelled.

"I-I know. I-if you j-just let me explain," Otto muttered.

"You arranged the meeting with Norman Osborn!"

"And I had the best intention."

"He studied my ideas and rejected them! Then announces OsCorp Tech-Flight four months later!"

"I am sorry, Adrian…"

"Don't you dare apologize, doctor." A voice interrupted the scientist. The duo glanced up to see the voice belonged to a man attired in a dark green business suit with brownish red hair. This was Norman Osborn, the CEO of OsCorp Industries. "OsCorp has nothing to apologize for."

That really ticked Adrian off. "Nothing to-? Osborn, you stole my work!"

"That's dangerous talk, Mr. Toomes." Osborn mocked with a smug smirk forming on his lips. "Dangerous and unsupportable. Listen, you old buzzard, you've been at this for decades without one success to your name. If you never accomplished anything as a young man, who'd believe you created Tech-Flight as an old one?"

Adrian frowned at Norman's words but quickly twisted to anger; that really hit a nerve with Toomes, knowing full well that Osborn was lying straight to his face.

Osborn gestured for his security guards to apprehend the old scientist by the arms. "Boys, show Mr. Toomes out."

The security guards grabbed the old man by both of the arms. Before they could drag him away, Adrian turned his gaze towards Otto. His eyes narrowed with sheer contempt.

"Good news, I don't blame you anymore…" Adrian announced.

Otto looked on in worry as Adrian was dragged out of the laboratory. Norman Osborn still retained his smug, triumphant grin.

Crime Lords.

A crime boss generally possesses complete or nearly complete control over the other members of the organization and is often greatly feared or respected for their astuteness, strategic thinking, and/or unyielding determination to take lives in order to exert their influence and derive profits from the criminal activities in which the organization partakes.

Certain groups may possess as few as two ranks, consisting of a crime boss and their loyal soldiers. Conversely, other groups exhibit a more intricate and organized structure, which may differ depending on cultural background. Notably, organized crime enterprises originating in Sicily deviate in structure from those found on mainland Italy.

Moreover, American groups often adopt distinct structures when compared to their European counterparts, while Latino and African American gangs frequently exhibit unique organizational patterns in contrast to European gangs. Furthermore, the size of the criminal organization plays a pivotal role, as regional or national gangs tend to possess significantly more complex hierarchies.

None know this more than Wilson Grant Fisk himself.

Fisk was one of the most feared, dangerous and powerful crime overlords in the underworld of New York City. His reign was preceded by ten years, his rise in power beginning at the age of seventeen.

At that point in time, he possessed a reputation so vast that even his peers considered him to be a legend, something to be reckoned with and admired. He held a high position within the criminal hierarchy, and his exploits were legendary. It was rumored amongst his gang leaders that Fisk killed a couple dozen people each for daring to double-cross him.

Fisk stood gazing out of the window on the highest floor of his office, which provided a commanding view of the vast expanse of New York City. His attention was drawn to the bustling cityscape below, where a multitude of vehicles swiftly traversed the streets, ferrying passengers to various destinations within the metropolis.

Individuals of all genders gracefully strolled along the sidewalks, accompanied by their children who hurriedly tried to keep pace with their parents. Engaged in lively conversations, they joyfully exchanged laughter and animatedly discussed subjects that remained a mystery to outsiders. The harmonious blend of their voices created a symphony of sound, resonating throughout the urban landscape.

"You called for us, boss?"

Fisk looked over his shoulder.

The Enforcers have arrived in time.

A/N: Finally got this one out of the bag. I'm sorry that this one's a bit short; I originally wanted to make this chapter longer but thought i published it early and save my idea for the third chapter when I go and work on that one. I'm also taking my time on experimenting how Peter and Cindy, both on their future interactions and how their relationship will develop. Just as you guys have read in this chapter, I'll be focusing on Cindy's point of view for now on. But that doesn't mean I won't be going into Peter's POV. He'll have his time but for the sake of this story I'll be focusing on her.

I also thought I add a bit of spice references of a certain scene from "The Spectacular Spider-Man," into this story. This is also the first time I ever decided to add the Enforcers into this story; I've only learned about them through "Ultimate: Spider-Man," and felt bad for them for how many times Spider-Man had kicked their butts. So we got Vulture and the Enforcers on the way so there's that.

With all of that said, I'll take my leave. See you all in the next chapter!