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Miles Morales: New Spider Chapter 30.
🕑 Added 2024-09-13 10:42:27 +0000 UTC---
The snow fell gently, creating a soft white blanket over the neighborhood, as Christmas carols and laughter filled the air, painting the atmosphere with joy and life. The warmth of the season was evident in every twinkling light and every smile. Love was as abundant as the red ornaments adorning the green of Christmas trees.
Step by step, I approached our house, the cold nipping at my skin. I rang the doorbell and waited.
“Miles, baby!” My mom’s voice was filled with love even before the door fully opened. She pulled me into a warm embrace, wrapping me in that familiar sense of comfort only a mother can give. “I missed you so much!”
I returned her hug, smiling. “I missed you too, Ma, but I’ve only been gone a week.”
From inside, my dad’s voice called out, amused. “Rio, let the boy come inside first.”
I stepped in, shutting the door behind me, placing the gifts I brought by the entrance. I gave my dad a hug as well. “Hi, Dad. I missed you too.”
He chuckled, patting me on the back. “Missed you too, son. You better stay a while this time. Your mom’s been driving me crazy asking about you.”
“Oh, look who’s talking!” My mom retorted playfully as she walked into the kitchen. I followed to lend a hand, the sound of Christmas songs softly playing in the background.
“Miles, you’ve grown again,” she said, grabbing my cheeks gently. “Why do you keep growing so fast?”
I laughed, setting plates and utensils on the table, the white porcelain complementing the festive red tablecloth. “I just want to grow up and take care of you guys,” I said, meaning every word.
The Christmas tree glowed brightly in the corner, casting a soft, multicolored light across the room. This—this was joy. Looking at my parents, their faces filled with love and warmth, made me believe the world could be better. Family wasn’t an “F” word—it was everything.
Clearing my throat, I adopted a mock-British accent. “Dear parents, your son bears before you a gift that dwarfs all others!”
I placed a small, ornately decorated wooden box on the table, its surface etched with intricate fire-like patterns. I opened the lid, revealing two vials filled with a translucent, softly glowing orange liquid.
“This,” I began, holding one of the vials, “is something I’ve been working on for a long time.”
They both leaned forward, curiosity piqued.
“It’s what I would call a fountain of youth,” I explained, my voice catching slightly with emotion. “You won’t have to worry about getting old or sick. It’ll heal you of anything, keeping you healthy for the rest of your lives. I promise it’s safe. I love you both too much to lose you.”
My dad chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You take after your mother, worrying so much.”
My mom, on the other hand, looked at me intently, her eyes narrowing as she connected the dots. “Is this why you’ve been growing so fast, Miles?”
I shrugged, trying to deflect. “Well, it involves a lot of milk... and maximum effort.”
They both laughed, easing the tension. After a bit more convincing, I managed to get them on board.
“All right,” my dad said. “How do we use it?”
“Just stretch out your arms.”
They did, and I carefully placed the vials against their skin, allowing the micro-syringe to inject the serum.
“I don’t feel any different,” my dad commented, studying himself.
“You’ll need to sleep first. In about five… four… three… two—oh, there it is.” They both passed out, mid-sentence.
I carried them to their bedroom, laying them down on the bed, and watched as the serum worked its magic. My mom’s wrinkles faded, her figure subtly changing, reclaiming the youthful grace she once had. My dad’s hair thickened, his muscles becoming more defined. It was like they had de-aged by years.
I turned away, giving them their privacy. Enhancing my parents was risky, but necessary. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing them, not with everything happening in the world. Besides, the extremis formula was coded specifically to their DNA. No one else could steal it.
"April, what’s the progress?” I asked quietly.
“He’s been located, boss,” April replied, her voice crisp in my earpiece.
“Well then, let's get it done tonight.”
I left a note for my parents, saying something urgent came up at the lab. As I stepped outside, the stars blinked overhead, and the moon shone through scattered clouds. The smell of salt and rust filled the air as I found myself on the coast of South Africa, standing at an old salvage yard. It was where Ulysses Klaue operated—a rusting, decaying shipwreck known as the Churchill.
Sneaking aboard, I moved silently through the ship. His men, heavily armed, stood guard, though their body language screamed boredom. They clearly didn’t expect anyone to raid this dump. Using the schematics April had hacked from Klaue’s system, I navigated towards the vibranium vault, a heavily reinforced titanium door standing between me and my prize.
April had already disabled the cameras and sensors. I pulled out a small gadget, the matter phaser, and attached it to the vault door. The device split into four, forming a purple boundary. I stepped through and found myself staring at a stockpile of vibranium, neatly stored in illuminated canisters.
“April, activate the portal,” I instructed.
The purple boundary shimmered as it thickened, stabilizing. I tossed the canisters into the portal, watching them vanish and reappear at my base, where aracnobots neatly stacked them into a tower. In less than five seconds, the entire stockpile was gone.
“Objective one complete, boss,” April confirmed.
Now, onto Klaue.
I moved silently to his office, where he sat, engrossed in something on his computer. I leaned in and whispered, “Boo.”
He jumped, startled, before breaking into hysterical laughter. “I’ve seen you, spider-avenger!” he exclaimed, pointing at me. “Nice suit.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “Coming from you, thief, that means a lot.”
His mood soured instantly. “What do you want?” he asked.
“What’s Wakanda like?” I responded casually, pulling out a neurolytic scanner.
His eyes widened at the mention of Wakanda. I slammed the scanner onto his head. “Purge his memories, April.”
Klaue screamed as the device began extracting the information I needed. I didn’t care. Wakanda’s secrets would be mine, and Klaue would be none the wiser when I was done.
As the ship exploded behind me, I stepped through the portal back to my base, Klaue in tow, drooling and glazed-eyed.
“Thanks for the help, Klaue.”
