PART 1 - Chapter 21 - The Dark Matters of Faith - Revelations


With pain, experience. From experience, wisdom. Through wisdom, self-determination.


WORD OF WARNING: Reminder, "The Dark Matter of Faith" is a heavier arc.

Trigger Warning for angst, deaths, drugs and manipulation of spiritual nature.

WORD OF WARNING THE SECOND: This author has SILL NOT played the new PS5 Spider-Man 2 game nor watched any "let's play", trying to keep the surprises still surprising, and probably that could be the same for many other readers, so, be considerate and avoid spoilers in the reviews, please!

Thank you!


The elevator doors opened up, revealing to Peter a rather unexpected 'lab' space.

Walls and windows were similar enough to his own workplace, hints of standardization in their construction, but instead of several state of the art equipments, like the ones Peter had requested and installed, the room was much more spartan, less furniture, aside a computer station on one corner, fridge and microwave oven on the other, a modest cupboard, a comfortable looking hammock in the middle of the space, a miniature half-basketball court with lines on the floor, ball and basket included, and a two adult sized bright green and orange bean bags.

And several pens and notebooks strewn all around, piles of them in several spots.

"Surprised?", the teen asked.

"I dig the hammock", Peter complimented. "Always liked hammocks."

Metron nodded in appreciation. "Yeah, hammocks are cool", the younger employee offered him one of the bean bags to sit, the orange one, which the hero in disguise accepted.

"So…", he was hesitant, but the teen took the hint.

"What was your first real talent, Parker?", Metron Jackson started, getting into a more comfortable position. "For me, it was lying."

"Well, that is… unexpected", Peter cautiously observed.

"Not really. I started lying to everyone around me as soon as I realized that my classroom friends were dumb as rocks, and I guess they could be forgiven, seeing as they were only eight years old and they could not differentiate Mandarin from Korean and had no idea what a quadratic equation was. But I knew all those things, and more."

"Most importantly, I knew that knowing those things made me different from the others, and being different meant being feared and rejected."

Metron pointed to the wall, where, amongst many pictures and newspapers' articles, there was the photo of a much younger Metron, braided hair instead of his current low cut, alongside two very proud parents, a tall and chubby man with a goatee, same skin tone as the son, and a much shorter and lean woman, with Polinesian features that Peter easily matched to the teen right in front of him.

"Sure, my parents knew, but to the school and the kids in his neighborhood? Metron Jackson had always been that smart but eccentric kid that avoided sports, played video games and was always the second or third best grades of the year. Reasonably - and comfortably - normal enough."

"... though I did rebel sometimes", the teen chuckled, pointing at another piece on the wall, a news article from the Gotham Gazette, showing some sort of science's fair, the headline showing 'Bruce Wayne meets the Future of Gotham', and, in the same frame, right next to that there was another article piece, this time from a gossip column, talking about 'Billionaire gets Schooled!'.

"The Big Boss told me something about you and Wayne."

Metron smiled brightly at that. "Kord always loves to talk about that incident. Did he tell you that he had figured me out after a simple exchange of messages in a forum thread over applied physics? True story, there I was, foolishly thinking myself well hidden under a fake name and disguised IP address, chatting to some 'big brains' in the scientific community, including this chill guy, 'T.K.-C.E.O.'."

Peter gave a short laugh over the obvious and awful username.

"Imagine my surprise when, less than two days later, said Ted Kord, CEO, one of the greatest minds of the modern era, was ringing the doorbell at my parent's house, wanting to meet their son personally and to offer him a job."

"'You're amazing, Metron, you know that?', Ted Kord told us while my mother served him store bought lemonade in our living room", Metron reminisced. "'And I'm not talking about intellect here. There are many super-intelligent people out there, and I know most of them, but I have never had a talk about Gravitrons as invigorating as I had with you. You talk about urban development projections while correlating them to space anomalies and the surge of metahumans and I can see that you get them, those connections that everybody else ignores'."

"'All I want to offer you is a place where you can use that amazing mind of yours to help make the world amazing as well.'", Jackson finished with a smile. "I was eleven years old, P, no one could fault me for falling for a 'Yer a Wizard' speech, could they?'

Peter nodded, then turned serious. "Cool story, though I think you wanted to tell me something about how we are alike?"

The teen rolled his eyes. "You and me, P, we're burdened by our great abilities."

Peter's eyebrow rose up. "I don't think I'm following you."

"Not trying to sound arrogant, but we are not normal, P, we are above the others, smarter than other smart people. Your IQ alone places you as narrowly below the Big Boss himself, as you put it."

"I don't know how you reached that conclusion, Metron…"

"It's in the company's records, the ones only accessible to the higher ups in Kord Industries.", the teen explained in a bored tone, and seeing Peter's surprise, he smiled. "Ted got your research papers analyzed and, as far as some people can guess, you are a fine piece of prime cut in the intellectual market. Not too shabby, to be considered the second most intelligent person in the whole company." Metron straightened up and approached Peter, while still seated. "That was my placement before your hiring, just FYI. Also, that's a secret, Ted tends not to talk much about my hiring to keep me safe from other companies."

Peter's eyes widened.

"And like you, Ted hired me for my potential, and as soon as I arrived, I started churning out ideas that were immediately applied in several areas - our cafeteria, for example, was structured after a concept I created in my first semester in the company, and as staff comfort had an increase of twelve percent in the first week, there was an increase in the production of designs and patents reaching twenty percent in the subsequent trimester."

Then the teen's voice became somber. "Around my eighth month in the Chrysalis, though, I had hit a block. I went from daily ideas to not a single one for six weeks. I became tense, then frustrated, then irritated, then I started lashing out. There I was, finally recognized for my potential and how actually useful it was, and I could not show anything for it? I had become a failure."

"In comes Ted Kord one day, spots the computer monitor I had thrown out of the desk, then to the minifridge, which I had tumbled over, then to all my paperwork that I had plopped all around the floor, then finally to me, sitting against a corner and holding my knees, stewing in all sorts of negative feelings."

"Instead of getting angry with a brat having a fit and destroying company property, he just… sits down, right by my side, and he says, in a normal conversation tone… 'Great idea, your office really needs a renovation'."

Metron gave a short laugh. "Kord told me he was worried about me, that it had been his own failure when he didn't let me ease into this world. He decided to cut me off from all projects, to my horror, and, instead, gave me a new function."


"You will go home - no, hear me out - go home and write me every couple of days, Metron." The teen gave his boss a confused look, but the multimillionaire wasn't done yet. "You will interact with other people, spend time in the park, the movies, art museums, arcade, at your discretion. Then you'll make reports of what you did, what you saw, who you talked to, all of that, directly to me by electronic means."

Metron deadpanned. "Are you telling me that my new 'function' is to hang out and laze around the city? While still getting paid to do it?"

"And report it all to me, more importantly."

"Why?"

"That way, it looks official."

"... Mr. Kord, what the hell?"

"Language, kiddo", Ted censored with barely any real force. "But yeah, you are a kid, and clearly not meant to be stuck in this building. You can't have ideas if you are inside a box, that's not you. So, your new work assignment is to go out there, gather data and personal experience and see what your mind can make out of it. While also having fun, if inevitable."

"Mr. Kord, I-"

"I was young like you once, Jackson, and I grew up thinking that my intellect was the only way I'd be ever acknowledged. That is how it was with my teachers, my university colleagues, even with my own family. Especially my family, who manipulated me over my intellect, in many underhanded and practically criminal ways."

"That was one of the hardest lessons I have ever had to learn, my own worth did not and should not come from what others could get out of me. I should have had support from friends and family, not trying to hold the whole world on my shoulders, and I'll be damned if I let anyone else feel this kind of pressure as I had been forced to, even unintentionally."

The teen smiled, finally standing up and looking back at his still seated boss.

"Language, sir. And thanks."


"So I did what he told me to do, I went and just let myself experience the world. Around two weeks of emails later, I brought him the basis for Kord Industries' current cryptography system. It came to me while I visited Gotham's Modern Art Museum - the gift shop, to be precise. Then came my heat insulator paint a month later, then, in my second year here, I already helped Sajani develop her first zetta-ray signal transmitter and Grady's infinite curvature mirror."

"And I finally realized that I was seeing you reach a point like that, Peter", the scientist noticed the teen calling him by his name. "You are not a charity case, you had your potential spotted by Kord and he took you out of shelters and straight into a thirtieth floor laboratory, asking you to change the world and all that sales pitch, then you started churning out prototypes and inventions like there is no tomorrow, trying hard to make a difference… until the point where things are going wrong and you can't have a single success."

"And I get it, it's hard, but take a breather, have faith in yourself and things will come to you again. Find your focus and you will get results done, and I know you're smart enough to know that already. And for the love of Science, start socializing, dude! There are other people that can help you out and could be needing your help in return. You. Have. Got. To. Open up! You dig?"

Peter Parker went quiet for a moment, taking all that had been shared in consideration.

'Metron thinks I'm just overworked or not reaching success in my projects, but he got something right, I do get myself too focused, especially in my own failures.'

'It's time to go back to focusing on what I can do instead of what I couldn't.'

"Thanks, M", Peter replied, offering a hand to the teen, who shook it back. "I get you. You know, you're more than just the cool kid of the Chrysalis."

"Of course I am, P, but my coolness tends to obfuscate my other amazing attributes."

With a small laugh, Peter Parker excused himself and left the smirking teen behind.

Metron Jackson waited for the elevator doors to close to drop his smile as he laid back on his bean bag.

'I guess even grown ups have a hard time thinking they can't do it, huh?', he pondered, then sighed. 'Worse, even superheroes also need some pep talk once in a while.'

The genius teen gave a long stretch and started dozing off.

'Hope I helped you sort things out, Mr. Spider-Man.'


At that same moment, many floors below.

"Timothy Drake!", came the loud voice of Ted Kord, calling the attention of everybody else in the lobby area. "It's always such an honor, you should have told me you were coming!"

The younger teen, now publicly named and instantly recognized by all present as the promising ward of Bruce Wayne, crossed the area beyond the security desk and offered a hand to the owner of the building, who shook it emphatically. "I'm sorry for showing up unannounced, Mr. Kord-"

"Nonsense, Brucie always had the habit of skipping town and leaving his duties in the hands of others. Take it as a mark of respect from your father, Timmy, he doesn't dump his work on the lap of anyone incompetent, mind you!"

"No, just on overworked laps, as it is." The teen's dry response made the rich scientist laugh, while he directed themselves towards his own private elevator.

As soon as the doors closed, much more serious expressions broke through the jovial act.

"Sorry, sometimes I hate the whole secret identity thing", Ted commented, already pressing his private office's button. "Keeping up appearances to keep up the morale, you understand, especially in Bruce's case."

"It's what we have to do to help our city - and the world, Mr. Kord."

"I already told you, Tim, call me Ted, Mr. Kord was my failure of a father. Speaking about fathers…"

"Batman has yet to appear", came the barely sullen reply, and the older hero gave a nod in return. "Whatever happened to Bruce, it was done by professionals."

The elevator doors opened, Ted Kord's uttered codephrase eliciting a smile on the teen vigilante as the CEO's office morphed into a more practical super-hero base.

Tim Drake had always been a fan of Ted Kord and of the Blue Beetle. Finding out they were one and the same just turned his respect into near adoration, to the rest of the family's annoyance and pleasure.

'Even though Ted embraces his super-hero side just as fervently as Bruce does, Ted at least has fun with it. It's a job, not a burden.'

"I'm sorry for being absent, I had to lend a hand to Guy Gardner and Kyle Rainer over some shapeshifting murderbot that had landed in Australia, and we ended up having to save it from the country's fauna, in the end", Ted apologized, as he extended a computer station out of a hidden wall panel. "Lucius told me that my equipment could not help find the tracers."

"Don't worry, neither yours nor ours fared any better, so you won't hear any complaints from anyone in the Family", Tim quickly waved the older man's worry off. "To be honest, I was looking for a reason to leave the Cave, just for a little while. Everyone's getting nervous over B's absence, and the lack of clues."

"Can you walk me over the case?", the older hero asked while typing, and Tim complied, reporting everything the Bat-Family managed to gather.

Batman had been making rounds over Gotham City, investigating connections over the attempted murder of his alter-ego, Bruce Wayne, and the mayoral candidate Lincoln March. The suspect, captured by the new vigilante Spider-Man, apparently committed suicide by falling to his death, then either the assailant came back to life and killed two people, or it all had been an act staged by an unknown party to rescue his remains.

This was, after all, Gotham City. Weirder things had happened before.

Batman had been working on the hypothesis of a lone assassin, until he unveiled a possibly centuries old conspiracy, almost definitely proving the existence of the "Court of Owls" - or a group of people emulating the fabled secret society.

Batman being captured while investigating Gotham's oldest sewer sections had already been grim enough. The fact that, by all indications found in Batman's possible last known location, the scuffle to take the Dark Knight down had been short and completely one sided, painted an even darker situation on the hero's disappearance.

"I might have something to help you out, though", Ted suggested, opening up a folder in his private system. "One of my scientists came up with a next generation sound manipulator device that I could reverse-engineer to help map out Gotham City's underground, even pointing out hollow spaces that could help in the search."

"Thanks for the offer, Mr. K… Ted", Tim Drake replied. "As a matter of fact, I also came to thank you personally over another piece of Kord tech, your new armored pads helped protect Nightwing yesterday from receiving a much serious injury, probably life threatening."

Ted Kord gave the teen a smile that looked both proud and astonished. "Talk about coincidences, the man who developed the material for your new suits' reinforced protective layer also created the sound technology I was talking about. His name is Parker, Peter Parker."

Tim's prodigious memory quickly provided him with a face to the name. "Your plus one at the Gala? The one who called Bruce out on his Gotham Renovation Project?"

Ted gave a look of slight distress. "Bad first impressions aside…"

"Not that bad, really", Tim amended. "A little naive, sure, even misinformed, but really impressive from someone who had only the surface level of information and no fear of repercussion from one of the richest men in the world. If I didn't know his profile, I'd risk calling him a Gothamite born and bred. And you're saying he is also an inventor…"

Ted gave a short laugh, recognizing the tone of voice from the younger hero. "Et tu, Timotius?"

"You can't fault me for trying", Tim admitted with not a hint of shame. "You tell me about someone who helped my brother not being crippled in the line of duty, don't expect anything less than my total attention."

"I already rejected Lucius' offers over Parker", Ted declared, no heat on his voice. "He thinks Peter could be useful for the 'good fight'. I believe that keeping him away from it will render more results."

Tim Drake stared at his idol, then nodded. "I understand you and I'll tell the rest of the Family", Tim assured the older man. "We'll keep any offers to ourselves."

"That's all I ask of-"

"But", Tim spoke again. "If things should ever go bad enough that his help is needed, then it's all hands on deck, Ted."

The scientist hero stared at the young vigilante, who, despite his surprise, did not flinch or fall back in return.

'Of course he wouldn't, the kid has lived years under Batman and Alfred Pennyworth', Ted realized. 'I bet any of the Bat-Kids could win a stare contest against a statue.'

"I'm sorry", Tim Drake apologized, a bit of regret showing on his voice, and Ted understood him. 'Sorry for having to say it, not for what he said.'

"You just can't help being his kid, can't you?", Ted started, in a low and sincere tone, his hand on Tim's shoulder. "All of you, suddenly showing into the scene in colorful suits, trailing behind the Bat, trained to be ready, smart and focused, always helping to put a smile on Bruce's face through all these years. It's inevitable you kids ended up getting some of his best qualities, along with some of his worst as well."

"Out of all your siblings, I can see you are the one most like him, Tim, and that worries me. Can you do me a favor? Don't lose yourself to The Mission, okay?"

The younger hero agreed, a small smile showing itself on his face, and, if Kord hadn't been in the superhero business for so long, he would have believed in Tim Drake's answer.


At that same moment, in the same building.

"So, Parker, what are you looking for?", the tired scientist asked her colleague, as she scanned her card on the door, allowing them access to the Deposit.

"Sorry to call you in such a hurry, Anna Maria, but I really need some equipment for my latest… project", Peter explained. "How was Sweden, by the way?"

Doctor Marconi reached for the specially placed switch, turning on the lights of the Chrysalis' Deposit, not much of a room, but an entire floor separate inside the building, filled with boxes, furniture and advanced equipment, most of them covered in bubble wrap.

"Cold and full of hot people… but you are still gonna owe me for calling me here on my day off", she replied, with a smirk.

"You're an angel, Anna!"

"Buttering me up won't release you from your debt, Parker, but you may continue flattering me. So, what are you looking for?", she asked, pulling a file on her personal Kord-Pad.

"A Chemical Composition Analyzer, for starters. A sampling set for organic compounds, no, make it three sets. Also, do you think there are any mass spectrometers to spare? And I wouldn't say no to an electron microscope, if there is any gathering dust."

The smaller woman stopped and stared at her colleague, in clear interest. "As a matter of fact, I know we have everything you're looking for, since it's part of my own equipment. I thought you were a physicist, Peter."

"I was hired as a physicist, but my best grades were in chemistry", Peter explained. "And genetics."

The scientist looked at her colleague up and down, seemingly in consideration. "... would you be interested in peer review of some neogenic works I have been cooking up?"

"I'll be glad to assist you, Dr. Marconi, I just hope I'm not too rusty."

"Perfect, it's a date, then!", she voiced and he nodded in return, already finding the listed items to put on the hovercart he had brought with him.

It was only after half an hour had passed, as Peter had just finished setting the new equipment in his lab, that he finally caught up with his colleague's words.

'Wait, what did Anna Maria mean... she couldn't have meant… could she?'


To be Continued!


Author's Notes:

Hello there! It's been a while, hasn't it?

And guess who's back from a long and tiring trip?

Honestly, I have so much stress right now that I'd have to dump it somewhere.

And look here, a convenient Peter Parker to mess around with!

Jokes aside, this was the other half of the previous chapter, which I had to split from the original draft to give it some attention and work around.

Thank you all who have been reading this silly story of mine!