My name is Peter Parker. You might know me as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Yeah, that guy—the one who’s saved New York more times than I’ve had hot dinners, and let me tell you, my wife Mary Jane makes a mean lasagna.

It all started back in high school—a radioactive spider bite, a lesson in responsibility, the whole shebang. But the real twist in my story wasn’t the webs or the wall-crawling. It was her. Mary Jane Watson. Fiery red hair, a smile that could weaken my knees more than Doctor Octopus on a bad day, and yes, definitely blessed in the… personality department.

I’ll never forget our first date. Me, fumbling over my words in a cheap suit; her, laughing not at me, but with me. At least, that’s what I chose to believe. And that first kiss? Under the flickering light of her porch, rain drizzling around us? I swear my spider-sense tingled—and not because of incoming danger. Well, maybe the danger of falling hopelessly in love.

Fast forward through villains, reveals, tearful reunions, and a wedding that even J. Jonah Jameson reluctantly attended (grumble included), and here we are. Happily married. Still saving the city. Still trying to make rent.

Which is why tonight, I found myself swinging toward a crash site in Hudson River Park. Police scanners chattered about a meteorite. Because why not? Mondays, am I right?

I landed silently atop a lamppost, lenses of my mask narrowing. There it was—a smoldering rock half-submerged in the river, shimmering with an unnatural dark gleam. My spidey-sense hummed lightly. Not screaming—just… curious.

“Alright, space rock,” I muttered, “let’s see what you’re made of. Please don’t be an alien parasite. Please don’t be an alien parasite.”

I crept closer, lowering myself on a web line until my boots touched the murky water. As I reached out, the black surface of the meteorite rippled. My senses spiked.

Danger.

I yanked my hand back just as a slick, tar-like substance launched from the rock. I flipped backward, landing silently on the riverbank as the goo slid into the water, dissolving from view.

“Okay, definitely an alien parasite,” I sighed. “Note to self: stop jinxing it.”

Thoroughly weirded out and slightly damp, I swung for home. Our apartment in Queens never looked so good.

The moment I …