Compared to how smoothly Peter and Gwen adapted, Cindy had an absolute disaster of a morning.
She wasn’t woken up by family.
Not by an alarm.
But by a mosquito.
And not just any mosquito—
To her ears, it sounded dozens of times louder than normal.
Her senses were overloaded, completely out of control.
Too much information.
Too much noise.
“Please… please just stop!” Cindy groaned, clutching her head as she stumbled toward the bathroom.
She turned on the light, trying to steady herself—
Then reached for the faucet.
Thwip.
A strand of web shot straight out from her fingers.
It splattered across the mirror—
Instantly covering it in sticky silk.
Cindy froze.
She hadn’t meant to do that.
She couldn’t stop it.
Even worse—
Somewhere deep in her mind, she could feel another presence.
A location.
A connection.
But right now, she couldn’t process any of it.
Because one thing was very clear—
She could shoot webs.
“What… what is this?!” she panicked, trying to tear it off.
Bad idea.
The web was absurdly strong.
Sticky.
Elastic.
Unforgiving.
She barely managed to rip part of it free—only to end up with it stuck to her hands instead.
Tears welled up in her eyes.
Right as she was about to break down—
Her phone rang.
She rushed back to the bed and grabbed it with her free hand.
“Cindy, it’s me—Peter.”
Hearing his voice immediately grounded her.
“I know you’re scared,” Peter said gently, “and I know none of this makes sense yet.
But Clark, Gwen, and I are on our way to you right now.”
That was it.
She cracked.
“Peter!
I—I turned into a freak!” she choked out.
“I can shoot webs!
My hands are stuck—I can’t get them off!”
On the other end, Peter blinked, caught off guard.
He glanced at Clark, who was driving.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Peter said quickly.
“Don’t panic.
Gwen will help you clean up, and then we’ll go somewhere safe to figure this out.”
Clark pressed the accelerator.
Not long after, they arrived.
Gwen went in first, helping Cindy get cleaned up and presentable—freeing her from the worst of the webbing chaos.
Then the four of them regrouped and left together.
An hour later—
They arrived at an abandoned factory.
Clark’s usual training ground.
He parked their second car inside a hidden warehouse area.
After what had happened here before, even the boldest drifters avoided the place.
The car doors opened.
Peter.
Gwen.
Cindy.
And Clark.
The three stood facing each other.
Silent.
Awkward.
Yet… strangely connected.
Like three people who had just discovered they were the same species.
Meanwhile, the actual alien stood nearby, watching quietly.
Clark just smiled.
And said nothing.
Cindy was still nervously peeling stray webbing off her hands.
Gwen stood calmly in the middle—at least on the surface.
(Though it was pretty obvious she was trying to look composed in front of Clark.)
Peter, on the other hand, kept rubbing his hands together like he was trying to shake off static electricity.
Yeah.
This was going to be a long day.
Clark leaned against the hood of the car, arms crossed over his chest, carrying himself like a seasoned guardian watching over three clueless rookies.
“Alright,” he said calmly, his tone firm.
“Now that everyone’s here, no more pretending.”
He looked at them one by one.
“Yesterday in Osborn’s lab—I saw the spiders.
The ones that fell from the ceiling.
They bit Peter and Cindy… and then Gwen.
Norman Osborn is hiding it.”
The three of them inhaled sharply.
So that was the truth.
“…So… we’re Spider-people now?” Peter blurted out.
Cindy immediately looked like she was about to collapse again.
Out of the three of them, she was the most like an actual spider—she could literally shoot webs.
Peter froze for half a second.
Then realized what he’d just said.
“…I didn’t mean it like that—I mean—wait—”
He waved his hands awkwardly, trying to backtrack.
Clark pinched the bridge of his nose.
Wrong time, wrong words.
As usual.
“Forget the ‘spider’ part,” Clark cut in, pointing toward the abandoned factory behind them.
“The real issue is this—none of you understand your abilities.
You can’t control them.
And if you walk into school like this tomorrow…”
He gave them a look.
“…you will get exposed.”
Gwen didn’t object at all.
Deep down, she already knew Clark wasn’t normal—she’d known since childhood.
Peter?
He trusted Clark completely.
If his brother said it, he’d do it.
As for Cindy—she didn’t even hesitate.
Someone taking the lead was exactly what she needed right now.
“Let’s go,” Clark said.
“Time to figure out your limits.”
This time, he avoided the section of the factory he usually trained in.
No need to accidentally expose himself—these three were too smart for that.
He pointed at a massive industrial machine—easily several tons.
“Peter.
You’re up.”
Then looked at the machine.
Then at himself.
Then back at Clark.
His expression said everything: You’ve got to be kidding me.
Still… Clark wasn’t joking.
Peter sighed and stepped forward.
“Alright… here goes—”
He grabbed onto it, braced himself, and shouted as he put in all his strength—
“AH—!”
Then paused.
“…Wait.”
“…Why is this so light?”
He lifted it.
Easily.
Like it weighed nothing.
His face lit up instantly.
“NO WAY—”
He started using it like a barbell, doing reps with growing excitement.
Clark nodded, quietly noting the baseline.
Strength level confirmed.
Next time—double it.
“Alright, that’s enough, Peter.
Stop.
Gwen, your turn.”
Gwen stepped forward.
She lifted it—
But not nearly as easily.
Clark observed carefully and nodded.
“Good.
Now something else.”
He pointed upward.
A tangled network of steel beams stretched across the ceiling, over ten meters high.
“I don’t care how you do it,” Clark said.
“Get from here to the other side in ten seconds.”
He added:
“No touching the ground.”
Gwen looked up.
If this were yesterday, it would’ve been suicide.
But now—
Her mind was already mapping a route.
Perfect.
She stepped back.
Then sprinted.
Her legs exploded with power.
She launched into the air.
Flipped.
Caught a beam mid-flight.
Swung forward using momentum.
Her movements flowed seamlessly—no hesitation, no wasted motion.
Like a gymnast performing in zero gravity.
Her hands and feet adhered effortlessly, even on smooth steel.
Seven seconds.
She reached the far side.
And landed against the wall—
Standing vertically, like gravity meant nothing.
“That’s SO COOL!” Peter shouted from below.
Clark clapped once, nodding in approval.
Gwen’s mutation leaned heavily toward agility—flexibility, spatial awareness, balance, aerial control.
Her raw strength wasn’t on Peter’s level—
But in complex environments?
She was unmatched.
Send those stones my way—the more, the merrier.