Spider-Trinity: Reborn Into Marvel Universe

Taking a sip of his coffee, Peter sat in his office, waiting for his guest. Susan should have been beside him, but she was in her own laboratory on a different floor of the building—monitoring and assisting the scientific division.

Lost in thought, he heard a knock at the door and gave permission to enter. A man in his early twenties wearing a well-fitted formal suit stepped inside. Peter rose from behind his desk, approached the man, and shook his hand.

”It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McGrath.”

”Please—call me Max,” the young man replied with a friendly smile. ”Mr. McGrath is still my father.”

”Understood, Max. Please, have a seat.” Peter gestured toward the chair across from his desk. ”Anything to drink?”

”No, thank you,” Maxwell declined politely.

Peter nodded and returned to his own chair.

”I am surprised you agreed to meet on such short notice.”

”I have been in New York for a week visiting my parents,” Maxwell explained. ”That is why I accepted so quickly. I hope that was not an inconvenience.”

”Not at all. Quite the opposite—it is perfect.” Peter offered a warm smile, and he watched the young man’s visible nervousness settle slightly. ”Now then. Let us talk about work, shall we?”

”Of course.”

For the next several hours, they discussed the specifics of the position—the responsibilities, the timeline, and the compensation.

When Peter named the salary figure, Maxwell’s eyes went wide. He initially attempted to refuse it, insisting it was far too generous, but Peter persuaded him to accept.

The package even included a house in London where Maxwell or his parents could live; beyond that, Maxwell would manage everything else on his own terms.

”Excuse me, Mr. Parker,” Maxwell said after a pause, ”but I would like to ask you something.”

”Go ahead.”

”How did you find out about me? My record is not exactly well-known. I have not done anything impressive enough to make a man like you seek me out.”

Peter smiled faintly. He opened one of his desk drawers, retrieved a file, and placed it on the desk between them.

”Maxwell ’Max’ McGrath,” Peter began. ”Two years ago, you were in a car accident that left your legs paralyzed. You were missing for one year and two months. The last confirmed sighting had you wandering aimlessly somewhere in Kathmandu.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter noticed Maxwell beginning to sweat. His posture stiffened.

”When you returned, your paralysis had vanished entirely. Something that, medically speaking, has no cure. You came back walking as if the accident had never happened.” Peter tilted his head slightly. ”Strange, would you not agree?”

Maxwell tensed further. His eyes darted around the room, and Peter could see the man’s instincts screaming at him to bolt. Peter made no sudden movements. He simply leaned back in his chair and interlaced his fingers.

”Do not be nervous, kid. I know where you were. I received your information from the Ancient One.”

Maxwell let out a shaky breath. ”How?”

”I am the closest thing to a best friend that she has. I am not entirely sure how she sees me, to be honest. I met her some time ago. We share cups of tea and long conversations. She knows I do not trust easily, so she personally gave me your file. I have to assume she trusts you. And I trust her. So I am offering you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, young McGrath.”

Peter’s expression hardened just enough. ”I hope you do not let her—or me—down. The consequences of betrayal are not pretty.”

Maxwell trembled visibly when he met Peter’s eyes. After a beat, Peter shifted his expression back to something friendlier.

”You can go now, Max. You will receive reports and all the necessary materials within a few days. Say hello to your family for me.”

Maxwell rose quickly from his chair. ”Understood, sir,” he said, and made his way toward the door with barely concealed relief.

Peter watched him leave with a faint amusement.

”Were you not a little harsh on the poor boy?” Karen asked, materializing beside him in a crisp secretary outfit.

”Whoever controls people’s fear becomes the master of their souls,” Peter replied, putting on his speed-reading glasses and turning his attention to a stack of company files.

”Everyone sees what you appear to be,” Karen said softly. ”Few experience what you truly are. I feel privileged for that.”

Peter’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile.

”Are you ready for tonight?”

”Yes. I will be monitoring from your watch at all times,” Karen confirmed.

Peter looked up. ”I thought you were going to use the synthetic body prototype.”

”Unlike Mom, who enjoys spending time in her human body, I prefer to remain on the network. I feel more in my element—more comfortable—than being inside a robotic frame with synthetic skin.”

Peter nodded. He could not help but notice the differences between Karen and Cortana. Karen’s emotional growth was slower by comparison, but she was firmly on the right path. She occasionally struggled to understand certain emotions or social nuances, and whenever she did, she turned to Peter or one of her mothers for guidance.

”How is Liv?” he asked.

”Her transfer was accepted. She will arrive next week. The apartment has already been purchased. She just needs to complete the paperwork and begin moving in.”

”Perfect. Continue studying Inhuman DNA and send me anything relevant that you find.”

”Understood.” Karen paused. ”The Watchtower is progressing well. The NS-5 upgrade is ahead of schedule and could be completed faster than projected.”

Peter smiled at the news that his final base was progressing smoothly.

”Additionally,” Karen continued, ”Miss Kornkamon has accepted your request. She will arrive in New York in two days.”

”Excellent.”

”Why did you choose those two? Or rather—why did the Ancient One choose them?”

”Good question.” Peter retrieved a second file from his drawer and placed it on the desk. ”Miss Kornkamon Rebecca Armstrong. Graduated from law school with a specialization in criminology and psychology, earning her doctorate. She recently completed an additional degree in business administration law.”

”I do not see how that is particularly useful,” Karen remarked.

”Recently, she began chemotherapy. She is twenty-six. The unusual part is that she was diagnosed with terminal cancer at the age of twenty-two. She traveled the world searching for a cure—an impossible task. On one of her trips, she disappeared in a neighborhood in Hong Kong. When she resurfaced, her cancer had inexplicably regressed from terminal to stage three. How do you think that happened?”

”The Ancient One?” Karen guessed.

”Exactly. The Ancient One likely taught her the Mystic Arts to manage her condition. But when Kornkamon saw the responsibilities that came with being a sorcerer, she walked away. The same thing happened with Maxwell.”

”And Maxwell?”

”He studied business, is an excellent lawyer, and according to the Ancient One’s notes, a proficient hand-to-hand combatant. Unlike Kornkamon, who demonstrated genius-level aptitude in the mystical field. That is precisely why the Ancient One sent them both to me. They fulfill the primary requirement.”

”Which is?”

”The ability to manage a company competently and defend it in an emergency.”

Karen hummed thoughtfully and nodded.

”Not to mention,” Peter added, ”they both owe a tremendous debt to the Ancient One. That puts them in an unfavorable position—they cannot refuse a request from the person who made them who they are today. Their hearts and minds will not allow them to say no. That is the power of favors and ’good deeds.’ When it comes time to repay the debt, you cannot refuse—because you understand that the person who gave you everything can also be the one who takes it all away.”

”The power of favors?” Karen asked playfully.

”That is a crude name, darling. The correct term is ’The Power of Dealing.’”

Karen repeated the phrase mentally several times. Her eyes widened as the full implications settled in, and she looked at her father—who was smiling again in that quiet, unsettling way that made her circuits tremble slightly.

”Ahem,” Karen said quickly. ”Remember that tonight is the Expo.”

Peter grunted in annoyance. Karen vanished before he could complain further.

Alone in his office, he refocused on the mountain of corporate paperwork.