Marvel Zodiac knight

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"I'm calling security!!" the middle-aged man stammered, panic evident in his voice. "Who are you?"

The intruder, a scruffy-looking man with yellow hair, struck the man's head with the butt of his gun, sending him reeling across the office. "I'm here to rob you! Get it?"

The man's cries were abruptly silenced as his bravado crumbled, replaced by compliance. He began stuffing cash into a duffel bag, his hands trembling.

Dennis, the intruder, spotted the cash James was holding and demanded, "Hey, kid! Put that money in the bag!" He pointed the gun at James, attempting to coerce him into surrendering.

In a swift motion, James lunged forward, grabbing the gun and wrenching it from Dennis's grasp. Dennis winced as James's grip tightened around his wrist, pain shooting through him.

"What the—!"

"I'll never let anyone point a gun at me," James declared, his voice low and steely.

Dennis's yellow hair reminded James of a character from his favorite comic book, yet the situation felt all too real. He glanced at Peter beside him, who looked as bewildered as James felt.

"Peter, how are you getting home?" James asked, trying to keep the conversation light despite the tension.

"I'm meeting Uncle Ben at the New York City Library. He'll pick me up later," Peter replied, his brow furrowed in confusion.

James raised an eyebrow. "Peter, have you heard the saying, 'With great power…'"

"Comes great responsibility, right?" Peter finished, nervously shifting his weight. "Uncle Ben couldn't have come up with that on his own. Did you read it in a book?"

The plot thickened. After Dennis's robbery, he would likely flee and attempt to steal Peter's uncle's car, ultimately leading to Uncle Ben's demise. James grappled with the moral implications of intervening. Was it right to eliminate Dennis before he committed a crime? Was it justifiable to kill a man who hadn't yet harmed anyone?

"Stop! Drop the gun!"

The security guard burst into the room, aiming his pistol at both James and Dennis, clearly unsure whom to target.

In a moment of hesitation, James shouted, "Heart!" and seized Dennis's hand, aiming the gun at the guard.

Without missing a beat, the guard pulled the trigger.

Boom!

Dennis collapsed, shock etched on his face, a bullet hole in his forehead.

James released his grip, offering a quick nod to the guard. "Thank you for your assistance. You've done a great service."

The guard wiped his brow, shaken. "I was just defending myself. He aimed a gun at me, and I reacted."

Despite his poor marksmanship—missing a ten-meter target before hitting the robber—the guard didn't dwell on it as chaos erupted in the office following Dennis's death. James and Peter seized the moment to slip away amidst the confusion.

As night fell, Peter guided James to where Ben Parker waited on the roadside.

This was James's first encounter with Uncle Ben, the man who would become Spider-Man's mentor.

Ben, affable and kind, greeted James warmly. "You're James, right? I heard Peter made a friend at school. That's you, huh?"

"Uncle Ben, your nephew is quite something," James remarked as he settled into the back seat of Ben's old car, which sagged under the weight of their gear.

"Haha, just teasing," Ben chuckled, starting the engine. "This jalopy's like an old friend, always there when you need it."

"Uncle Ben, let me introduce you to someone in Chinatown for some health tonics," James suggested, hoping to lighten the mood.

Ben rolled his eyes. "Forget it."

After James explained his circumstances, Uncle Ben graciously invited him to stay. James accepted, grateful for the warmth and hospitality.

Due to car trouble, they returned to the Parker residence late. Aunt May greeted them with open arms, curious about their delay.

"Wondered why you were so late. Blame it on the car. Wash up, I'll whip up some of my famous meat rolls tonight," she said, bustling into the kitchen.

While Aunt May prepared dinner, Peter led James to wash up. They settled at the dining table with Uncle Ben, the news playing softly on the TV nearby.

"The news is so sensational," Uncle Ben muttered, flipping channels. "Ah, here we go."

A police officer appeared on screen, addressing reporters. "Regarding the brutal incident at the abandoned factory last night, we've made progress. The suspect is a man with a phoenix tattoo on his back..."

A distant image showed a figure in black armor with a phoenix tattoo glowing ominously.

"According to sources, this man, known as Sentinel, is wanted in connection with sixteen deaths. An arrest warrant will be issued, and we urge the public to come forward with any information..."

"Sentinel?!" Peter gasped, turning to James with disbelief.

He had spent the previous night designing the web launcher, oversleeping into the morning. He hadn't had a chance to check the news until now.

"Sixteen lives... That's too much," Aunt May interjected, visibly distressed.

Uncle Ben sighed, "While these individuals may have been criminals, Sentinel's actions were excessive. No one has the right to take lives."

James felt a weight settle in his chest. Thankfully, it was someone else's problem—at least for now. After a brief discussion, they set the topic aside, enjoying a pleasant meal. Later, Peter took James to his room.

As the door closed and James settled in, Peter confronted him.

"Is it true? Are you Sentinel? Did you really kill... so many people?"

James didn't answer right away. Instead, he posed a question of his own. "Do you think they deserved to die?"

"But, but..."

Peter fell silent. Despite his aspirations to be a guardian of the city alongside James, he remained a seventeen-year-old, far removed from James's decisive demeanor honed by the Zodiac armor.

Killing people—let alone sixteen—was unthinkable for Peter.

The weight of their conversation hung thick in the air, as both boys grappled with the shadows of their choices and the paths they were forging.