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Marcus decided to make this trip alone.
He'd already talked to Alice, Jill, and Ada. They knew he might disappear for a while and wouldn't panic when he vanished from the compound.
He stood in his workshop and activated the system interface.
[Initiating dimensional transit to Tobey Maguire Spider-Man universe.
Arrival time: Ten days before Peter Parker is bitten by radioactive spider.
Location: Back alley, Queens, New York.
Transit cost: 10 Origin Points. Confirm?]
Marcus frowned. "Ten points? Why so much?"
The system's response appeared in his mind: Spider-Man universe exists as parallel dimension to Marvel-616. Multiple cosmic entities monitoring this reality. Increased transit cost required.
Marcus's expression shifted as he processed that. Multiple cosmic entities watching this world? That was... concerning. The Spider-Man films seemed relatively grounded compared to the wider Marvel universe, but apparently there was more going on behind the scenes.
Still, he needed that spider-sense.
"Confirm transit."
[Origin Points: 78 → 68]
Light flared. Reality folded.
When Marcus's vision cleared, he was standing in a narrow alley in broad daylight.
He immediately extended his telekinesis, scanning the surrounding area. No people nearby. No security cameras pointed at this location.
Good. No evidence of his arrival to erase.
Marcus oriented himself and walked out of the alley into Queens, New York—a version of Queens that was slightly different from his home reality. Cleaner. Less technologically advanced. No Stark Tower visible on the skyline.
He had ten days before Peter Parker got bitten. Ten days to establish a cover identity and position himself.
Marcus spent the next week and a half using his abilities strategically.
Telepathic suggestion helped him acquire a legitimate identity—social security number, work history, references, all of it inserted into the right databases and the right people's memories. Not mind control, just gentle nudges that made officials process his paperwork without asking inconvenient questions.
He applied to the Daily Bugle and got hired as a freelance photographer. It was perfect: he'd have legitimate access to Oscorp's public events, and more importantly, this was where Peter Parker would eventually end up working.
Being there first meant he could guide events subtly if needed.
On the tenth day, Marcus drove to Oscorp Industries for their annual science exhibition.
He was halfway there when he saw something that made him smile.
A teenage kid with glasses was chasing a yellow school bus, waving his arms frantically.
"Hey! Wait! Stop!"
The bus driver clearly saw him. But instead of stopping, the driver just slowed down—deliberately keeping the kid running, making him chase the vehicle while students inside laughed and pointed.
Finally, a girl with red hair said something to the driver, and the bus stopped.
The kid climbed aboard, breathless and embarrassed.
Marcus recognized him immediately.
Peter Parker. Still scrawny, still getting bullied, still hopelessly in love with the girl who'd just helped him—Mary Jane Watson, who was currently draped over Flash Thompson's shoulder.
Classic Parker luck.
Marcus followed the bus to Oscorp, parking in the visitor lot and watching the students disembark. Peter looked uncomfortable in his own skin, hunching his shoulders like he wanted to disappear.
Then a luxury car pulled up.
A young man stepped out—well-dressed, confident, objectively handsome. Harry Osborn, heir to the Oscorp fortune and Peter's best friend.
Harry spotted Peter in the line of students and waved him over.
They were talking when another man emerged from the car—older, harder-edged, with the kind of intensity that came from running a billion-dollar company.
Norman Osborn.
He handed Harry a forgotten backpack, and Harry took the opportunity to introduce his father to Peter. They exchanged pleasantries, Norman assessing Peter with the calculating gaze of someone always evaluating potential assets.
Marcus pulled out his camera and snapped a photo.
Click.
The sound drew their attention.
Norman's expression darkened immediately. "Excuse me. Who are you? This is a private event."
Marcus smiled easily and pulled out his press credentials. "Marcus Reed, Daily Bugle. Your exhibition is open to press, Mr. Osborn."
Norman examined the ID, his irritation fading when he confirmed it was legitimate. Journalists had rights, and alienating the press over nothing was bad optics.
"Fine. Just be more discreet."
He handed back the credentials and walked away toward the building, clearly dismissing Marcus from his thoughts.
Marcus turned to Peter and Harry, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you both. I'm Marcus."
They shook hands politely.
"Harry Osborn," Harry said with the easy confidence of someone who'd never worried about money or status.
"Peter Parker," Peter added, quieter, more uncertain.
They made small talk for maybe thirty seconds—just long enough to be polite without being weird. Then Marcus pulled out a business card.
"Here's my contact info," he said, handing it to Peter specifically. "I noticed you've got a camera too. If you ever get interested in freelance photography, Daily Bugle's always looking for good shots. Maybe we'll be colleagues someday."
Peter looked confused. "Uh, thanks, but I'm not really planning to be a photographer professionally. I mean, I like it as a hobby—"
"Just keep it in mind," Marcus said, still smiling. "You never know how things will turn out."
Peter took the card, mostly out of politeness, and tucked it into his pocket.
After Marcus walked away, Harry leaned toward Peter. "That guy was kind of weird."
"Yeah," Peter agreed.
"Don't worry about it though," Harry continued. "With your grades, you can intern anywhere. Hell, you could come work at Oscorp if you wanted. Way better than being a reporter."
Peter smiled but didn't respond directly. He appreciated Harry's support, but the truth was Peter didn't know what he wanted to do with his life. Everything felt uncertain.
Still, as they joined the other students heading into the research center, Peter couldn't quite shake the feeling that Marcus's words had meant something more than they seemed.
The business card felt strangely heavy in his pocket.
Marcus watched them enter the building, then smiled and followed them inside.