Spider-Man : The Story of a Hero

When she finally looked back toward the spot where her father had been standing only a few seconds earlier, Gwen found nothing but empty space. Surprised, she suddenly stepped forward a few paces and immediately scanned her surroundings, searching for his silhouette around her, between the various installations on the rooftop or near the door she had just come through. But there was no one there anymore. Her father had simply disappeared, without the slightest warning and without giving her time to understand what had really just happened.

— ”LET GO OF ME!”

The scream rang out again and pulled Gwen away from the many questions already beginning to invade her mind. She wanted to understand what she had just seen, to know why her father had appeared to her and how he had managed to disappear so suddenly, but this clearly wasn’t the time to look for answers.

Temporarily pushing all those questions aside, she quickly headed toward the other side of the rooftop, where the voice had come from, before spotting what was happening in an alleyway slightly below, between two neighboring buildings.

In the almost empty alley, a man seemed to be trying to sexually assault a woman who was desperately struggling to break free. At the sight, Gwen immediately clenched her teeth. Her first instinct was to intervene, right then and there, without waiting any longer. Yet the moment that thought crossed her mind, a multitude of far more frightening thoughts brutally held her back.

What if the man had a weapon? He might even have one on him at that very moment. What if he stabbed her when she approached? Or what if he pulled out a gun and shot her? Worse still, what would stop the situation from turning against her and her becoming the victim instead of that woman?

— ”I can’t help her… I’ve never fought in my life. And besides, it’s way too dangerous…”

All those thoughts instinctively made Gwen step backward. She hated that reaction, but her body seemed to follow her fear before she could even truly decide what she wanted to do. Her gaze then fell on her hand, precisely where the mark left by the spider bite was still visible.

She immediately froze and clenched her fists tightly, torn between frustration and the fear that continued to hold her back. She wanted to move forward. She wanted to act and go down there to help that woman, but despite all that determination, her body seemed to refuse to obey her.

— ”And even if I got bitten by one of the spiders from the laboratory… maybe I was wrong? Maybe it didn’t do anything to me? I don’t feel anything. No strange sensation, no super-strength, no feeling of ease… absolutely nothing.”

Gwen tried to reassure herself, but deep down, she understood perfectly well what she was really doing. Above all, she was looking for a reason not to intervene. A justification that would allow her to leave without feeling like she was deliberately abandoning someone in danger.

That was when the image of her father suddenly returned to her mind. That strange silhouette she had spotted in the middle of the crowd, which she had followed without even really knowing why, and which had ultimately led her here before taking the appearance of George Stacy.

Was it simply her mind playing tricks on her? An incredible coincidence? Or could it really be something else, like a manifestation of fate that had led her precisely to this place? Perhaps even some kind of test meant to show her whether she was truly worthy of becoming a hero.

But the more Gwen thought that way, the less comforting those thoughts seemed. On the contrary, she gradually began to blame herself for having even considered things from that perspective and, above all, for having hesitated so much.

Someone was in danger right before her eyes. A woman was being assaulted only a few meters away from her, and instead of immediately trying to help her, Gwen had found herself wondering whether she actually had powers before agreeing to take even the slightest risk.

But why should that matter at all? Did someone really need superhuman abilities to be willing to put themselves in danger to protect someone? Did someone need to be able to lift a car or climb walls to lend a hand to a person in distress?

No.

And if there was one person who had always understood that, it was her father.

Those questions echoed in Gwen’s mind for a long time until they stirred something inside her. She slowly raised her eyes toward the sky, her expression still marked by fear and uncertainty, but now crossed by a new determination that was slowly beginning to take their place.

Whether she actually had powers or not didn’t matter. Whether she was ready or had never fought in her life didn’t matter. She didn’t want to stand there and watch someone suffer simply because she was afraid of what might happen to her.

Refusing to hesitate any longer, Gwen quickly opened her bag and began preparing to put on the equipment she had taken from Peter.

Powers or not, she fully intended to help that woman.

At the same time, elsewhere in Manhattan, Peter was still continuing his search. He crossed the rooftops one after another, jumping from one building to the next while constantly scanning the streets below in the hope of spotting Gwen among the countless passersby.

Several times, he even went down to street level to question the people he passed, asking dozens of them whether they had seen a blonde girl matching her description. Yet despite his efforts and the minutes that continued to pass, no one seemed able to give him the slightest useful information.

After crossing several buildings almost without stopping, Peter finally interrupted his run on one of the rooftops and immediately pulled his phone out of his pocket. He checked his messages once again, then his call history, hoping to find that Gwen had replied in the meantime. But the screen offered him nothing new.

He had sent her several messages, had tried calling her numerous times and, despite all that, she still hadn’t given any sign of life. Peter let out a sigh, increasingly torn between irritation and a worry he could no longer really hide.

— ”Damn it, Gwen… where are you?”

His voice disappeared into the wind sweeping across the heights of Manhattan as he remained still for a few seconds, his phone still tightly gripped in his hand.

He nervously scratched his head and almost mechanically checked his screen one last time, as if a reply might suddenly appear before his eyes. But there was still no message, no missed call, absolutely nothing that could tell him where Gwen was or even whether she was okay.

Peter finally put his phone back into his pocket and immediately resumed his run. The rooftops passed beneath his feet as he leaped from building to building, never letting his attention slip for even a second.

With each new jump, his gaze swept across the streets below, desperately searching for blonde hair, a familiar silhouette, or simply the slightest movement that might tell him where Gwen could have gone.

TO BE CONTINUED.