Spider-Man of Earth 65

Night was upon him. The drive from the NYPD HQ to Harlem was half an hour. Felix took a cab. There wasn't much else to do but go home, after all. 

"Here you go," Felix told the cab driver. "And tip."

Twenty dollars worth of tips. The cab driver thanked him profusely. 

Except upon stepping out of the cab…

'Someone is watching.' 

His Spider-Sense flared. The cab drove off and during his whole ride there, there was nothing. 

'They were waiting.' 

He didn't glance over his shoulder. He was almost certain SHIELD had eyes on him. Alas, he couldn't pinpoint from where. For now, all he could do was head inside as if he hadn't noticed a thing.

He walked up the steps to his Harlem apartment, his mind racing as he pushed open the front door and made his way up the stairs and to his unit. His Spider-Sense's feeling of unease grew stronger, tightening in the back of his skull. 

'The cameras. I don't have Herbie but I'm sure he would have told me they're peeking.' 

And, well, hacking them out of those cameras would just be screaming suspicion. He had to be lowkey. He had to be normal. He slid his key into the lock and—

"Felix!" 

The door from the other side opened. Rio Morales walked out, smiling. 

"I've been hoping to catch you. Thank you so much for taking Miles to that concert. You have no idea how much he loved it."

Felix smiled, feeling the tension from his earlier suspicions fade for a moment. "Not a problem, Rio. I think I enjoyed it as much as he did."

Rio chuckled, but then her expression turned serious as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small wad of cash. "Listen, I really appreciate what you did, and I know concert tickets don't come cheap." She extended the cash toward him. "So, how much did the full ticket cost? I'll pay you off slowly, bit by bit."

Felix blinked, taken aback. He held up a hand, laughing softly. "Rio, really, don't worry about it. It was my treat. Miles deserves to have some fun."

Rio shook her head firmly. "You know I have too much pride, Felix. I don't do handouts," she said with a good-natured smile, but the resolve was unmistakable. "So go on, take it. And I mean it—how much did it cost, so I can keep paying you?"

He finally took the money, knowing she wouldn't back down. "Fine, I'll take it, but I'm not telling you the full amount," he replied with a grin. "I'll just keep that between me and my wallet."

Rio laughed, crossing her arms with a mock-serious look. "Oh, we'll see about that, Felix. We'll see." 

After some talk, tingles of Spider-Sense, he turned the lock and went inside. The last thing he saw was a waving, smiling Rio. 

It was a good sight that did nothing to stop the buzz of his Spider-Sense.

First thing he did was take off his shoes. Second was to subtly and rapidly scan his surroundings. Walking while doing so, time slowing down, pupils darting left and right, up and down. 

He didn't miss a beat. He walked casually. 

'Logically speaking, if they are watching, they definitely searched the place. And if they searched, they might have planted stuff.' 

Making his way to the kitchen, he opened the fridge. The yogurt tub caught his eye immediately—just slightly out of place, rotated by a fraction. That confirmed it. Someone had been here, touching things, searching. 

'SHIELD,' he concluded. With his super sharp eyes, through the vents, he saw a glimmer of glass. A camera. They were watching. They were observing.

Felix pretended to contemplate. He sighed and searched. He had to be conflicted over the death of his coworker. 

The emotions weren't false either. He was letting himself naturally flow. What would he do after the death of a coworker and being interrogated?

Eat and drink. 

He casually grabbed a juice carton, poured himself a glass, and took a measured sip, allowing himself a single sigh. He made his way to his desk in his room, setting the glass down before easing into his chair. He powered up his computer, mind carefully blank as he felt the familiar buzz of his Spider-Sense spike again.

His gaze drifted to the camera on his monitor. The model had changed, subtly different from his usual, down to the brand name and a minor design tweak on the frame. 

Even now, SHIELD was watching.

"Alistair…"

He sighed again and cupped his cheek. 

His browser was already open on several tabs on particle research. It was what he had been mindlessly reading last night. So he continued what he had been doing while sighing and drinking juice.

At first glance, it was nothing more than a young scientist catching up on recent advances. Tired and not quite knowing how to react to death.

However, Felix's mind was working on a separate task entirely. He needed to communicate with Herbie. Herbie was linked to his phone, computer, and anything else he used regularly. Herbie would know if any attempts to probe his computer or other devices had occurred. So far, Felix felt sure Herbie had blocked any real data extraction; SHIELD wouldn't have found a thing.

Carefully, he opened a note file, a mundane grocery list that looked harmless but would allow him to input the right triggers to contact Herbie. He typed slowly, filling the list with an assortment of common grocery items, each item corresponding to a letter pattern he and Herbie had pre-programmed as an encrypted message.

Eggs, carrots, sugar, he typed, pausing for a sip of juice before adding, herbs, potatoes, onions, apples. 

The coded message was clear to Herbie: Security breach. SHIELD here. Monitor systems quietly. Use generative AI to manipulate cameras to my advantage whenever necessary.

Felix continued with his list, waiting for the familiar prompt to pop up at the corner of his screen. Sure enough, a notification blinked in the bottom-right corner:

> Herbie: Loading…hacking…

Felix Faeth was a scientist. A scientist prepared for the worst of eventualities and this situation was no exception. On the off chance that the police or NYPD were spying on him, he installed this function in this monitor. A unique set of pixels that allowed only his Extremis eyes could see. The same calibration that his Advanced Glasses used.

With this, he told Herbie to manipulate the cameras. So whether they were physically watching from across the street or on a camera, they did not know he was communicating with Herbie. SHIELD was clueless. 

Felix paused, letting the notification vanish as he sipped his juice and leaned back, as if waiting for some inspiration for his grocery list. He needed to give Herbie time to quietly analyze the system and send back any signals that could indicate SHIELD's surveillance parameters.

> Herbie: Successful. Twenty-four cameras and twenty-seven audio devices have been found. Calibration and manipulation activated. 

'Well, isn't that fantastic,' Felix thought, keeping his face as neutral as possible. If SHIELD had his entire apartment bugged, he'd have to be extremely cautious about every movement, every word. He'd need to stick to a carefully constructed routine and watch for anything they'd rigged as an additional trap.

He leaned forward, minimizing his grocery list and scrolling back to the science articles. He focused on reading through them, watching the time pass as he waited for further confirmation. After a moment, he typed out a casual search query for local lab suppliers, figuring SHIELD wouldn't find it strange for a researcher to keep up with his equipment.

Then Herbie pinged back, the wording another cleverly crafted alert.

> Herbie: Hacking into the SHIELD database will take time. Approximate calculation: twenty-seven hours.

He searched up a random scientist. Herbie knew what he was really asking. 

> Herbie: Nick Fury is likely spearheading this investigation. 

'The man that interrogated me…don't tell me he was wasting all that time just so that he could do all this.' 

Damn that Nick Fury. Trying to catch him by surprise like this was smart and that annoyed him. He must have figured whoever killed Eleanor and Alistair was smart, a profile that Felix fit to a Tee. The interrogation was just a distraction. This was what he really wanted. 

Access to his laptop, his phone, and even his smart fridge. They would be looking for deviations in his online habits, any anomalies in his movement or speech. Felix's fingers tapped lightly against his keyboard. From here, he'd have to go about his life with the assumption that any tech he touched could be feeding SHIELD. 

'I have to play the part of an unwitting suspect—someone who'd been at the wrong place at the wrong time.'

He sighed and got up, stretching his arms high up in the air.

"I can barely focus," Felix muttered. "Alistair and Eleanor died…and that detective…what was up with him? The eyepatch especially. What is he, a video game character?"

His arms hung behind him. "What am I going to say at work? Should I tell them? The police told me not to say anything but Oscorp is going to be pissed if I do that…Liv especially."

Liv.

Wait a minute, she was a SHIELD agent too. The murders had just happened so…

'Liv is either being informed right now or…spying on me after giving Fury permission.' 

So how would a normal person react?

"I should listen to the police," he muttered. "Oscorp is scary but I don't want a criminal record. Ugh, what if the FBI gets involved?" A sigh and a groan. "This day just keeps getting worse..."

After another fifteen minutes of skimming articles, he finished his juice and sighed, staring into the ceiling. 

"Alistair…Eleanor…fuck…"

These feelings were real. The sadness and memories were all real. 

Even if SHIELD was watching him grieve, Felix Faeth had no intentions of slipping up. And if they thought he was going to hand over any secrets?

They'd be waiting a long, long time.

"I'm going to take a shower," Felix murmured.

After all this, he genuinely, whole-heartedly needed it.

***

In the SHIELD surveillance room, agents hunched over their monitors, the cold, blue glow casting shadows across the walls. The room was sterile and cramped, with rows of screens live-streaming various feeds from active missions, investigations, and classified subjects under observation. A handful of SHIELD tech operatives worked the cameras, scanning through footage, but all eyes were currently drawn to two central screens: one showing Yuri Watanabe, alone and morose in her apartment, and the other… showing Felix Faeth.

Katherine Pryde, aka Shadowcat, leaned against the doorway, her leather-clad arms crossed over her chest, a half-interested scowl on her face. Captain Samantha Wilson strode in. Her complexion was dark and ebony and her muscles were subtle. She was tall and commanding without trying, and while carrying that classic America shield, that command and authority grew. 

Katherine gave her a once-over, then cocked an eyebrow.

"Ah, finally decided to grace us with your presence, huh, Cap?" Katherine's tone was laced with sarcasm, and her gaze flicked back to the screens.

Captain Wilson chose to ignore the remark. "Apologies. I was held up on a mission." She gave a quick nod to the techs and crossed past Katherine, looking at the feeds. "Olivia Octavius told me she wanted me on this. What have I missed?"

Katherine rolled her eyes, her tone flat as she filled her in. "Alistair Smythe and Eleanor Bishop are dead. We've got two suspects, the butler Yuri Watanabe—" She jerked her head toward the screen where Yuri sat, her head buried in her hands, "—and some Oscorp scientist. Felix Faeth." She pointed to the other screen where Felix was walking into his bathroom, clearly preparing to shower.

"Spying, huh?" Captain Wilson's face tensed. "I don't like this."

"You don't like anything," Katherine said.

"At least tell me there is a good excuse for this."

"Eleanor Bishop," is all Katherine said.

Captain Wilson's brows pulled together in recognition. "Eleanor Bishop....Eleanor Bishop...I recall reading her name on some reports. Isn't she involved with Wilson Fisk?"

"Allegedly, which is why her murder has to have us bend some rules."

"I still don't like it."

"Right, right, Mrs. Moral Police," Katherine drawled. "Look, I don't know why Octavius wanted you here, but this is just another boring murder mystery. We're basically babysitting suspects until someone slips up."

"It isn't babysitting, it is intruding on people's privacy," Captain Wilson said, frowning as she looked between the screens. "What are we even watching?"

Before Katherine could respond, one of the tech agents clicked on Felix's feed, expanding it across the main monitor. Felix was in his bathroom, moving about with a casualness that suggested he didn't know he was being watched. Captain Wilson frowned, folding her arms as she watched him adjust the shower temperature. Then Felix reached down, hooked his thumbs into his waistband, and in one fluid motion, slid his boxers down.

And just like that…there it was.

Felix's dong swung into view, dropping with a solid thwap against his thigh that seemed to echo in the dead-silent room. It was…staggering, to say the least. The screen accidentally zoomed in.

No one said a word. 

Until Katherine's lips curled into a wolfish grin.

"Change your mind now?"

Captain Wilson realized she had been staring for way too long and whipped her head away. "W-what?"

"Because I do. This definitely isn't babysitting." Katherine licked her lips. "Wow, now that's what I call being hung like a horse."

Captain Wilson ran a hand down her mouth, a slight flush creeping into her cheeks. "Alright, Pryde, enough. Focus."

"Oh, I am focused, Cap." Katherine's grin only widened. "You think he does porn? Monster BWC?"

"What are you talking about?" Captain Wilson demanded. "BWC?"

"Oh, right. We have an old lady here."

Captain Wilson shot her a glare, but Katherine couldn't help herself. "Let me put it this way—with a BWC, there's no way a guy with that much going for him is the bad guy. He's probably secure as fuck. Zero insecurities means no mental issues which means no murders."

"Please do not demonize mental issues. Be better," Captain Wilson chided. "And whatever this BWC is, I doubt it likes being called a monster."

Katherine just cackled and leaned toward one of the techs. "You might as well keep that zoomed in, because trust me, no one's noticing anything else."

"Katherine." Captain Wilson's voice was clipped, though she did start looking at the screen again. Felix was now adjusting the shower temperature and, well, it was hard not to notice anything else. This white man was fit and hung and just…wow. Was that seriously a male's penis? It was way, way different than anything she had seen during the war.

Indeed, despite her words, her face was becoming hotter and hotter. That schlong was big. Attractively big.

"A scientist meaning smart. Nice muscles so goes to the gym and is fit. And theen...." Thwap! There it was. "A huge cock. Talk about flawless."

One of the techs cleared his throat, cheeks flushed as he tried to keep his eyes on his console. "Uh… should we, uh… switch the feed?"

"Oh, no." Katherine smirked, eyes glued to the screen. "I'm on this case now." She grinned at Captain Wilson. "I'm invested."

Captain Wilson hated it. She hated spying on people. She hated this policy. But...

'For the sake of justice and finding this murderer, we have to look.' On the screen, Felix sighed and washed his hair. The camera suspiciously went from his schlong to his pleasant abs. 'Yes, justice. We watch for the sake of the American people.'

Yep, that was what Captain Wilson told herself as she stared with a face full of shame and eyes glued to the nude male.

***

219 West 47th Street, New York. At the top level of this building were Katherine, Captain America, and the techies. The ones observing Felix Faeth and Yuri Watanabe.

On the opposite end was another important SHIELD agent.

Here, alone, was Olivia Octavius.

Here, underground with layers of security separated her from the city above, was secrecy incarnated. 

This level was perhaps the single most secure facility in the world. Certainly in the top five. Olivia was in a secure containment room at the very heart of the base's substructure, accessible only through multiple biometric and encrypted passcode checks. The walls here were reinforced with ballistic steel and an advanced lead-composite alloy designed to block all radiation signatures from escaping. Each door she'd passed through had sealed behind her with a hiss and a heavy metallic clang, isolating her in this sterile, silent vault.

The room was almost barren, but its minimalism was purposeful—any object not serving a critical function was considered a potential threat. The floors were cold, polished to an immaculate sheen, and the overhead lights were harsh, white, casting an almost surgical glow on everything within the room. At the center, in a small, reinforced glass chamber, lay the most precious, yet most dangerous relic of Oscorp's legacy.

A lone spider.

Small, unassuming, but alive. The black spider with the number 6 on its back. Faint, radioactive particles that clung to it. This creature—Alistair Smythe's greatest and final creation—was the only specimen of its kind left after the chaos that had obliterated most of their assets.

And now, it was contained in this tiny little glass. 

Octavius approached, her gloved hands folded behind her back, studying the spider with a combination of awe and possessive pride. Alistair had pushed boundaries no one else dared to approach. He'd managed to isolate and amplify a unique genetic strain in this spider—a strain that held unpredictable but undeniably extraordinary potential.

A feat only Cindy Moon had accomplished before him. 

"But Cindy Moon's breakthrough was only possible because of us. Agent Jesse Drew who was infected with a lethal, spider-like parasite on the moon and who we allowed to be treated by Cindy. If it wasn't for that deal, Cindy wouldn't have been able to recreate the spider. Alistair didn't need an alien parasite. He did it by himself. This…is a feat of true humanity, of true genius. 

This spider carried within it the power to alter DNA, to weave together genes in ways that defied conventional science. Its bite had the capacity to endow individuals with unimaginable strength, agility, and senses beyond the human norm. And yet, it was inherently volatile—a ticking time bomb of a dangerous future.

A future of war between superpowered humans. God-like humans.

The glass chamber was all that stood between a disastrous future and the present. And so, Octavius did not dare to research. She fed it, she checked its vitals, and then decided it was enough.

Octavius activated the sealing mechanism on the containment chamber. A series of mechanical whirrs echoed in the silent room as several layers of transparent barriers slid down, encasing the spider in a cocoon of glass and metal. Each layer was designed to contain and neutralize any potential radiation leakage, and to prevent any escape—biological or otherwise.

The spider was now behind three layers of ultra-reinforced Secondary Adamantium-glass, each pane outfitted with vibration sensors and thermal monitors. Even the slightest breach would trigger an automated lockdown, flooding the room with an array of suppression agents that would incinerate anything organic within seconds. It was overkill, maybe, but Dr. Octavius and SHIELD did not believe in taking chances. Not when the stakes were this high.

She leaned forward, peering into the tiny chamber. The spider sat there, unblinking, seeming to stare back with an eerie intelligence. Octavius almost felt as if it recognized her, as if it knew it was being watched by the woman who now held its fate in her hands.

"This is it, isn't it?" Olivia Octavius murmured softly. "You may be gone but your work lives on, Alistair. That, right now, is the only solace I can give."

For a moment, she simply stood there, gazing at the spider in quiet contemplation. Then, with a final look, she walked outside and input the final command into the console beside her, initiating the chamber's complete lockdown.

Heavy metal shutters slid down over the glass walls, encasing the spider in darkness, and a low hum vibrated through the room as the containment field activated. No sound, no light, and no heat would escape this chamber. It was, effectively, a black hole—a prison with no means of entry or escape.

Satisfied, she turned to leave, the locks behind her re-engaged, each door sealing her further away from the isolated chamber and the secret it now held.

In the silence, the spider lay dormant, not knowing its creator was gone.