The new Spider-Man

Kiran was trying to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he knelt on the cold, unforgiving ground. His once-pristine costume was now a grim tapestry of crimson stains, remnants of the harrowing battle that had just. "What have I done?" he whispered hoarsely, his thoughts a whirlwind of guilt and despair.

The image of the pilot flashed before his eyes, a vivid reminder of the moment he had hoped to save lives but instead witnessed tragedy unfold. "Was this my fault? What could I have done to stop this?" Kiran's heart sank deeper as he grappled with the weight of his perceived failure. But now, they felt like a cruel joke.

"I thought I could save people with my powers," he lamented, each word heavy with regret. "Do I deserve these powers? What good am I if I can't keep a promise?" The thought of his uncle made it all the more unbearable. Kiran had sworn to uphold justice, to safeguard the innocent, yet here he was, blood on his hands and despair in his heart. "I'm sorry, Uncle... I can't do it," he thought, gripping his head in anguish.

"Spiderman!" The newswoman exclaimed, her voice crackling through the speakers. Kiran's head snapped up as he caught sight of the urgency in her tone and the live footage of a chaotic scene just a few blocks away. "I think there are people trapped under that car," she said, pointing emphatically at a crumpled vehicle, its wheels still spinning. In that moment, something inside Kiran stirred. "What am I doing?" he muttered to himself, a sense of clarity washing over him.

Without a second thought, he stood up, propelled by an instinct he didn't know he had. He sprinted toward the scene, heart racing and mind clear. As he reached the wreckage, he noticed a man pinned beneath the weight of the car, struggles etched on his face. Without hesitation, Kiran bent down, gripped the edge of the car, and with a fierce determination, he began to lift.

The world slowed as he channeled every ounce of strength he could muster, slowly tipping the vehicle onto its side. "Are you okay, sir?" Kiran asked, chest heaving as he helped the man to his feet. The man looked up, eyes wide with gratitude, clutching his ankle. "Yeah, I think I'm fine, just a sprained ankle. Thank you, Spiderman," he replied, a smile breaking through his pain as he sat down on the curb.

Kiran surveyed the chaotic scene around him, his heart racing as he took a deep breath. Just moments ago, he had been an ordinary guy, but as he looked down at the lifeless pilot, a sense of duty surged through him. "No problem," he muttered, almost to himself, realizing that he couldn't turn his back when others were in trouble.

With a heavy heart, he laid a dirty, ripped sheet over the pilot, offering a silent prayer for the lost soul before gathering his resolve. As he swung into the air, the city unfolded beneath him. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the bustling streets, but the tranquility was shattered by a woman's desperate cries.

Without hesitation, Kiran adjusted his trajectory, honing in on the commotion. He spotted a woman sprinting down the street, a look of sheer terror etched across her face. Behind her, a man with a glint of malice in his eyes brandished a knife, his laughter echoing ominously.

"Come here, miss! I would like to spend time with you!" he taunted, his grin unsettling. Kiran's instincts kicked in. He couldn't allow this to happen. With a swift flick of his wrist, he shot a line of webbing that caught the man squarely in the back, immobilizing him and sending him crashing to the ground.

"I don't think she wants your company," Kiran quipped, his voice steady and confident. The woman, momentarily stunned by the unexpected heroic intervention, looked at Kiran with wide eyes, relief washing over her. "Thank you, Spiderman!" she yelled, her gratitude palpable as she dashed toward safety, her heart racing with adrenaline.

"You're one of those Mafia guys? Good, so you can tell me where's your hideout," he said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. The man, clad in a tailored suit that screamed authority, chuckled darkly, revealing a set of teeth that seemed more predatory than human. A glint of menace danced in his eyes as he leaned against the graffiti-covered wall. "Like I'd tell you. I can't wait until the boss gets his hands on you," he replied, a smug satisfaction hanging in the air. "Who is this boss?" he pressed, refusing to back down.

"The one who owns Queens and soon New York. Everyone will soon know the name HammerHead." He rambled on, oblivious to the storm brewing in Kiran's chest. Kiran's heart raced. HammerHead? He had heard whispers of the ruthless crime lord, but never a name attached to his deeds. "And this HammerHead guy, where can I find him?" Kiran asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course, in the bar with no name," the man replied, a careless smirk on his lips, not realizing he'd just revealed their hideout. Kiran's fists clenched, his anger flaring. "Thanks for the intel," he said, his voice dropping to a low growl before he lunged forward, delivering a swift punch that knocked the man out cold. "This Hammerhead guy is going to wish he never was born," Kiran thought, his fists clenched tightly, his heart racing with anger.

In the dimly lit bar, Hammerhead sat alone at a dusty table, the only sound that broke the silence was the occasional clink of his beer bottle as he took a swig. Wisps of cigar smoke curled lazily above him, mingling with the stale air, as he contemplated the fate of the city he prowled.

The neon lights outside flickered ominously, casting jagged shadows that danced across the walls. "It's only a matter of time before this city falls and that spider guy is dead," he muttered to himself, his voice gravelly and laced with disdain. His eyes narrowed as he envisioned Spiderman swinging through the streets, a persistent thorn in his side, always meddling in his plans.

Just then, the air shifted, and Kiran, descended from the ceiling, his silhouette silhouetted against the flickering lights. He hung upside down, his webbing glistening in the dim light, a playful grin plastered on his face. "That's Spiderman," Kiran corrected, his tone lighthearted, almost teasing.

"I was wondering what was taking you so long. Would you like a drink?" Hammerhead said nonchalantly, pouring a generous glass of whiskey that glimmered in the low light. Kiran scoffed, his patience wearing thin. "Let's skip the part where you try to recruit me and go straight to the part where I take you to jail." His voice was steady, laced with authority, and he dropped down, ready to spring into action. In a swift motion, he grabbed Hammerhead's shoulder. With a deft twist, Hammerhead threw Kiran against the bar. The impact was jarring; the glass bottle shattered on contact, sending shards flying through the air like dangerous confetti.

"Not even old enough to drink," he quipped, glancing down at the chaos brewing below. The air was thick with tension as Hammerhead, a notorious thug with a penchant for destruction, barreled through the streets, wreaking havoc in his wake. Kiran knew he couldn't let this go on. With a burst of determination, he sprang into action. He darted to the edge of the building, launching two strands of webs that gracefully arced through the air, sticking to the wall behind Hammerhead.

"Ouch, that is one hard head," he muttered, shaking off the pain. The bar was filled with chaos, shattered glass littering the floor and patrons scrambling for safety. Just as Hammerhead drew back to throw another punch, Kiran swiftly dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a blow that sent dust and debris flying as it smashed into the wall.

The force of the punch reverberated through the room, and Kiran took a moment to assess his opponent. The man was a mountain of muscle, and Kiran felt a flicker of doubt creep in—had he underestimated this guy? Without warning, Hammerhead charged again, this time barreling straight toward Kiran. He couldn't believe the speed at which the giant closed the distance.

Kiran braced himself, but the impact was staggering as Hammerhead collided with him, ramming his left side and sending him crashing backward into the bar. The world spun for a moment as he felt the solid wood dig into his back, and the familiar pain of a rib cracking echoed through his chest. "Yep, that's a rib. I may have underestimated this guy," Kiran groaned, slowly pushing himself up from the wreckage.

"As I expected, nothing but a boy who's trying to play hero," Hammerhead sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "When you have so much potential to take over this entire city, I can see that anger you have. It's the same anger I had when I was a kid." Kiran felt the heat rise in his chest, a torrent of emotions threatening to spill over.

Memories of his childhood—filled with loss and helplessness—rushed back, but he fought to keep them at bay. Balling his fists, he felt the surge of adrenaline, the familiar urge to lash out and prove himself. But he took a deep breath, grounding himself in that moment. He had come too far to let rage consume him now.

"Nearly lost myself there, but this time I'm ready," he replied, his voice steady despite the tumult within. He locked eyes with Hammerhead, determination igniting his spirit. "So let's go, metal head." With that, Kiran charged forward, channeling his anger into action.

Sometime pass Kiran and hammerhead had come crashing through a wall, creating a spectacle that drew the attention of bystanders. Kiran, fueled by adrenaline, threw punch after punch at Hammerhead, each strike fueled by determination.

However, he was was unfazed. With a swift move, Hammerhead caught Kiran by the wrists, his grip tight enough to break the young hero's web shooters, rendering Kiran's signature powers temporarily useless. In one fluid motion, Hammerhead swung Kiran around like a ragdoll, flinging him into the street.

Kiran stumbled as he regained his footing, his heart racing and breathless from the encounter. Dusting himself off, he shot a fiery glare up at Hammerhead, who loomed over him with a menacing smirk. "You can't possibly think you can beat me, kid, when you're scared of your own power," Hammerhead taunted, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Yeah, I should listen to the guy who's hard-headed literally. How about I give you a name? How about 'Hammy'?" he joked, his voice echoing in the large space. Hammerhead smirked, unfazed by the playful banter. With a sudden burst of energy, Kiran launched himself at Hammerhead, dodging a powerful punch by executing a flawless front flip.

The moment seemed to stretch as he landed gracefully behind Hammerhead, his body primed for action. Without hesitation, Kiran unleashed a swift two-hit combo, striking Hammerhead in the chest before delivering a cheeky punch to his face. "Looks like watching all those Jackie Chan and Michael Jai White movies paid off!" Kiran quipped, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"People don't talk this much in a fight, boy," he taunted, swinging a wild fist that Kiran barely managed to block. The impact reverberated through the air, sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through Kiran's veins. Just as Kiran thought he had gained the upper hand, Hammerhead lunged forward, grabbing him with an iron grip, squeezing so tightly that Kiran could feel his bones protesting under the pressure.

"This is a little close," Kiran quipped, attempting to lighten the dire mood, but the light-heartedness quickly faded. Desperation fueled his next move—a headbutt aimed squarely at Hammerhead's forehead. Kiran's intention was clear, but as his skull collided with the hardened surface of Hammerhead's head, he felt the consequences instantly.

Instead of disorienting his opponent, the blow sent Kiran reeling back, his vision blurred as stars danced before his eyes. "That is some hard head," he muttered, his voice strained and barely audible, as pain radiated from his cranium down his spine, which felt like it was being crushed under Hammerhead's relentless grip.

Then a car came at them, hitting Hammerhead and causing him to release his grip on Kiran. In a flash, Kiran jumped a little away, rolling onto the ground as the vehicle screeched to a halt. The driver, a man in a sharp suit with an air of determination, quickly stepped out, concern etched across his face.

"Spiderman, are you okay?" he exclaimed, rushing over to help Kiran up. "Yeah, but I hope you have superhero insurance," he quipped, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. As he regained his footing, he turned to see Hammerhead, the notorious crime boss, shaking off the impact and rising to his feet with a menacing glare.

"Seriously, I swear I'm definitely retiring after this," he muttered under his breath, a promise to himself he was desperate to keep. It wasn't just the physical toll that was wearing him down the mental exhaustion was equally debilitating. As he signaled for the man across the ring to leave, Kiran's thoughts swirled.

"Looks like my adrenaline just ran out. I'm starting to feel everything at once," he thought, his body awakening to the aches and pains he had ignored for hours. Each muscle screamed in protest, and he could feel the weight of fatigue pressing down on him. "Come on, Kiran! I know it's been 15 hours since you started, but you're almost at the finish line. I just need one good punch," he muttered under his breath, trying desperately to summon the will to rise.

"See, kid, you're weak," he said, his voice low and deliberate, "but if you work under me, you could have the whole city at its mercy." Kiran stood his ground, defiance flickering in his eyes. "Like I said, I don't negotiate with people who name themselves Hammerhead." The insult rolled off his tongue with an edge, a small victory in the face of intimidation.

Meanwhile, at Gwen's house, the atmosphere was electric. Friends and family crowded around the living room, eyes glued to the television as they witnessed the standoff unfold. Gwen sat on the edge of her seat, her heart racing with every exchange. "Come on, Kiran, stand up," she thought fervently, willing him to summon the courage he needed. Don't worry, I bet Dad will come around and help Spiderman!" Gwens little brothers wide eyes sparkled with excitement. On the television, the battle raged on.

With a quick dash, Kiran kicked Hammerhead hard in the leg, causing the villain to stagger momentarily. Gwen could feel her heart race as Kiran threw wild punches at Hammerhead's face, each hit landing with a satisfying thud. Just as it seemed Kiran might gain the upper hand, Hammerhead caught one of Kiran's arms in a firm grip then headbutted Kiran, producing a bizarre sound that echoed.

Kiran's world plunged into darkness for a fleeting second, a disorienting void filled only with the relentless ringing in his ears. He struggled to regain his focus, blinking rapidly as he tried to shake off the fog that clouded his vision. But before he could fully gather his senses, the brutal reality of the fight came crashing down on him.

Hammerhead, his hulking opponent, unleashed a flurry of powerful punches that landed squarely on Kiran's abdomen and face, each blow sending shockwaves of pain coursing through his body. Dazed yet determined, Kiran felt Hammerhead's grip tighten around his neck, lifting him off the ground as if he were a mere rag doll.

In one swift motion, he slammed Kiran to the ground, the impact jarring his senses and stealing his breath away. As he lay there, gasping for air, Kiran could feel Hammerhead's foot pressing down on his neck.

"Don't worry, your death will only benefit me," Hammerhead sneered, wiping the blood from his nose with a callous disregard for Kiran's suffering. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar, lighting it with a flick of his lighter, smoke curling around him like a dark halo.

As the smoke filled the air, Kiran's mind began to drift. Memories surged and collided within him, pulling him away from the brutal reality of his situation. He saw a bright light, and within it, he recognized the faces of his loved ones—his mother, his father, and his uncle.

They radiated warmth and peace, beckoning him closer. "That's it, kid, just let go and stop fighting," Hammerhead taunted, his voice a low growl beneath the haze of Kiran's fading consciousness. "Thanks for the fight; it was the best." Kiran's grip on life began to loosen, his body heavy and unresponsive.

Captain's voice cut through the silence, steady and unyielding. "I suggest you let him go, or it'll be your last fight." Hammerhead smirked, a glint of arrogance in his eyes as he pressed his foot harder against Kiran's neck. "Think you should consider your police department because I'll be out of jail in a day." His voice dripped with disdain, a man who felt untouchable in his criminal empire.

But Captain Stacy had a plan, one that had been months in the making. He stepped forward, holding a thick file that seemed to weigh heavily with the truth. "That's why, before I came, I took a look into the files in your building and just arrested all the officers you paid off." His gaze never faltered, and the determination in his voice sent a ripple of shock through Hammerhead and his remaining thugs.

Hammerhead smiled before stepping off Kiran's neck then stood there, arms behind his head, a smirk plastered across his face as the officers secured him in handcuffs. Captain Stacy, then rushed to Kiran, who lay motionless on the ground. The frantic urgency surged within Captain Stacy as he grabbed Kiran's mask, pulling it aside just enough to reveal his mouth.

Panic seized him when he realized Kiran wasn't breathing. "Come on, kid, don't give up," he urged, desperation lacing his voice. With practiced determination, Captain Stacy began CPR, pumping Kiran's chest with swift, rhythmic compressions.

The seconds felt like hours as he fought against the clock, willing the young hero to awaken. Just when hope began to wane, Kiran's body jolted to life. He shot up, gasping for air, his eyes wide with confusion. "Whoa… did I die? Please tell me you didn't kiss me?" he joked, his trademark humor breaking through the haze of panic. As he rolled onto his side, Kiran felt around his face, instinctively pulling his mask back into place.

"Don't worry, kid, I didn't take off your mask. After seeing you risk your life for this city, this is only your one-time pass." With a weary sigh, Kiran shifted his weight, feeling the ache in his leg as he walked away. Moment's pass as he raised his hand to knock, the door creaked open, revealing his aunt's concerned face. Her eyes widened with a mix of relief and worry as she stepped back to let him in. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him in a fierce embrace, the kind that melted away the darkness of his vigilante life, if only for a moment.

In the bustling newsroom buzzed with energy as the camera lights flicked on, illuminating Michelle and Andrew, two seasoned anchors known for their dynamic on-air chemistry. With a backdrop of smoldering rubble and flickering flames from the recent chaos in Queens, they smiled into the camera.

"Hi, I'm Michelle," she began, her tone earnest and engaging. "And I'm Andrew," he chimed in, leaning slightly forward as they prepared to dissect the previous day's events—the infamous showdown between Spiderman and the notorious crime lord Hammerhead.

"Today, we're here to talk about the fight yesterday," they both stated, their expressions serious as they transitioned into the topic. Michelle continued, "Firstly, I would like to thank our hero, Spiderman, for stepping in when our city needed him most." The screen flashed images of Spiderman swinging through the city, rescuing civilians from danger. Andrew, however, raised a critical point, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah, but couldn't he just leave everything to the police? I mean, look at the damage behind us!" He gestured toward the chaos visible in the background, where firefighters battled the blazing remnants of what was once a bustling street. "Without Spiderman, Hammerhead would have still been out terrorizing Queens," Michelle countered, her voice firm.

She highlighted the hero's role in preventing further destruction, her passion for justice evident. Andrew shook his head, unwilling to back down. "Yeah, but who actually took down Hammerhead? Our beloved police force!" He gestured with enthusiasm, emphasizing the importance of law enforcement in restoring order.

Kiran sat quietly on the school bleachers, the last rays of the sun casting a warm orange glow over the field. Band-aids adorned his face. "Can't believe I slept for two days," he muttered to himself, glancing at the cast that encased his left forearm. As he contemplated his predicament, Gwen approached, her smile brightening the somber atmosphere. Without a word, she reached out to grab Kiran's cast and scribbled something with a black marker.

"I gotta go before my dad panics, but text me, okay?" she said, her voice laced with concern. Kiran's heart raced as he watched her walk away, a mix of excitement and confusion swirling in his mind. "Wait, Gwen... How am I supposed to text you?" he called out, but his voice was drowned by the distant chatter of students and the rustling of leaves.

She didn't hear him, her silhouette gradually disappearing into the sunset. Despondent, Kiran looked down at his cast, and his heart skipped a beat when he noticed what she had written: her phone number. A surge of excitement ignited within him. Before he could fully savor the moment, a sharp pain shot through him as he instinctively grabbed his right side.

"Crap… But worth it in the end," he said, a smile creeping onto his face as he gazed up at the fading sunlight spilling colors across the sky. The thrill of swinging through the city, feeling the rush of wind against his skin, was an experience like no other. "Glad I got to see them if only for a brief moment. Now I need a new suit and web shooters and maybe a new pair of ribs," he joked to himself, chuckling lightly at his own misadventures.

Minutes later, Kiran and his best friend Michael found themselves on a crowded bus, the hum of conversation surrounding them as they made their way to a local store. The day had been unexpected, but it was one of those days that would be etched in his memory forever. They hopped off the bus, the fresh air hitting them like a wave, and Kiran pulled out his phone, his fingers hovering over the screen.

"You've been staring at her number for a while. Just say hi," Michael urged, leaning against the doorframe of Kiran's room. Kiran sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're right... But you think that's too bland? How about 'hey'? Or 'sup'? But that feels too friendly, like I'm saying she's my friend or something." Michael rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

"She is your friend, Kiran. Since you haven't made a single move after she kissed you, I'd say you're in the friend zone by default." Kiran's heart sank. The thought of being stuck in the friend zone with Gwen was discouraging. "For God's sake, are you like a super nerd? Just give me that phone," Michael said, suddenly taking charge. Before Kiran could protest, Michael snatched the phone and quickly typed a message to Gwen, then handed it back with a triumphant grin.

"You can't just—" Kiran started, but he trailed off as he saw Gwen's name light up on his screen. His heart raced as he read her reply: "What took you so long?" Kiran stared in disbelief. "You're a genius, Michael! But how did you get so good at this? You're more of a nerd than I am!" "Of course I am," Michael chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "But I'm a ladies' killer nerd after all. Chicks dig the nerd stuff." They both burst into laughter.

Kiran and Michael walked into the store as the news blared from the television. "Spiderman is a menace! If he just let the police do their job, none of this would have happened! I say we drive him out of the city before he takes all of New York for himself!" Jay Jonah Jameson shouted, his voice laced with the familiar antagonism that Kiran had come to expect.

"You gotta be kidding me, not this guy again," Kiran muttered, rolling his eyes and sighing deeply. The constant media war against Spiderman was exhausting, and he couldn't understand why Michael seemed to side with Jameson's rhetoric. "I say he's speaking facts," Michael replied, his tone surprisingly serious. "I mean, Spiderman should just leave everything to the police—the real heroes." Kiran looked at him, shocked.

Couple minutes pass Kiran and Michael bid farewell to each other. leaving Kiran feeling more conflicted than ever. As he walked away, his mind replayed Michael's words: "So not even Michael thinks I'm doing more harm than good." Kiran shoved his hands into his pockets, his expression cold and distant.

"Maybe I should just quit but that man is still at them," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. Lost in thought, Kiran's phone buzzed, startling him out of his reverie. He glanced at the screen and saw Gwen's name illuminated in a notification. Panic surged through him. "What does she want?" he thought, his heart racing. "Just be cool, Kiran," he said to himself, taking a deep breath. "After all, you fought a Maggia boss." He tried to muster the courage to respond, but doubts crept in.

The next day, Kiran strolled through the bustling school halls. As he navigated the crowd of students, he spotted Gwen approaching with her signature bright smile. "Hey Kiran, how's your arm?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine concern. Kiran grinned, flexing his arm playfully.

"Oh, it's already healed! I'm just keeping it on for appearance. I think that spider gave me a super healing factor," he whispered conspiratorially, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Gwen raised an eyebrow, half-amused and half-worried. "Just don't go experimenting with it, okay?" she cautioned, a hint of warning in her tone. As they walked side by side, Kiran's heart raced.

He had been thinking about taking a bold step—walking closer to Gwen, grabbing her hand, and sharing a moment that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. But just as he gathered his courage, doubt crept in, and he hesitated, feeling the familiar pang of shyness. Gwen must have sensed his internal struggle. With a soft sigh, she reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers, catching Kiran completely off guard. His eyes widened in surprise, but in an instant, warmth surged through him. He gripped her hand tightly, their fingers fitting together perfectly as they walked down the hall.