Chapter 9

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Two hours. That's all it took for me to narrow down my list of possible 'Spiderman'—as the media is starting to call him—candidates. It was a lot less work than I had anticipated, but the nearly finished task brought me no comfort.

"ARTI, track down the owners and information of the potential Spiderman's phone numbers." I bite my lip as the names filter across the screen. "Then pull up a reference of the individual cell's activity and home addresses. We need to cross reference it with the data I've already collected on Spiderman's path and confirmed sightings."

"Data configured and displayed."

Every pinpoint displays on my screen in a different variation for each possibility. But my focus immediately goes to name in particular. The letters stare back at me, and I feel my heart drop down to the lobby as my worst fear is confirmed.

It takes me reading it a couple times for the name to finally sink in. Peter Parker is one of the people that might be Spiderman, and I barely have to look at the cross referenced data to know it's true.

"It's a good thing I spoofed the suit tracker earlier, huh?" I question no one in particular as I close out the file and my laptop.

My suit slides on with ease, and I have to take a second to marvel at the perfect fit and the details. Even the thought that Dad put into the mask is amazing. The lenses mimic the ones in my glasses with ARTI's interface and adjusting lighting. I smile beneath the face plate and tug my hood up over my head.

"ARTI, let's go track down Spiderman." I almost jump at the sound of my voice through the mask. "But first, tell me everything Dad put into the suit. Is there a voice alteration on this? Because I swear it sounds like I have an American accent."

"Yes, your father wanted to maintain peak anonymity, which includes the voice alteration system, guards against any sudden flares of light, and electrical containment in case of a minor 'supernova.'"

"He really thought and remembered everything I talked about struggling with." It brings a smile to my face. I guess even when I think he's not looking or listening; he really is. The proof is right here in the suit.

Maybe the least I can do is find out if Peter is ready for what's likely about to happen. It's what I tell myself as I sneak out my window, but even right now, I'm unsure if that logic is entirely sound. After all, I'm going out to potentially find and recruit my best friend for a battle between some of the strongest heroes on the planet.

I try not to think of the negative possibilities as I trace my way through the shadows of the building's alleys. The glowing icon grows closer and closer with each alley, and I feel the worry growing with each step.

Eventually, I decide to make the trip easier by crossing rooftops instead of continuing to navigate alleyways. A smile creeps across my face as I allow my body to fade into a shadow itself. It's still a strange sensation, but doing so makes me plenty strong enough to propel onto the building's ledge and onto the roof in a single, focused jump.

A laugh nearly bubbles from my lips as I relish the feeling of the breeze as I leap from roof to roof with ease. It's only a few jumps before I find the same place that Spiderman—or very likely Peter Parker—is stopped at. I crouch down quietly to study him for a moment.

He's crouched down on the roof's edge, head swiveling as he watches the street below. I feel a pang in my chest as it really hits me that this is actually my best friend right there; his body language makes it perfectly clear. It's the one person I can't help but care about. He's right there in one of his worn out hoodies, sweatpants hanging around his legs, and scuffed sneakers gripping onto the concrete.

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