Peter Parker returned to his bedroom, the weight of Su Yi's words—and the drawing of the Spider-Man suit—making sleep impossible. He tossed and turned, grappling with the dilemma. Becoming a hero meant endless problems, danger to Aunt May, and sacrificing a normal life.
Yet, the desire to step up, to prevent the kind of crime that almost cost him everything, grew stronger with every passing minute.
I forgot to ask one crucial question, he realized, staring blankly at the ceiling. If I become Spider-Man, will I truly save many people?
He didn't need Su Yi to answer. He knew the answer was a resounding yes. I will definitely save people.
But what about Aunt May? And the people around me? They will all be in danger. The internal conflict was a tug-of-war between profound moral responsibility and terrifying personal risk.
Though still technically "hesitating," the moral scales had irrevocably tipped. He spent the rest of the night in torment, finally roused by his alarm clock.
Peter quickly dressed and went downstairs, instantly stopping in his tracks. Aunt May was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, but she looked radically different.
Aunt May was only thirty-five, but the stress of their financial situation had often made her look worn. Today, however, she was radiant, her skin glowing, her exhaustion vanished. She looked a full decade younger—a vibrant woman in her mid-twenties. She was no longer "Aunt May;" she was undeniably "Sister May."
"Morning, Aunt May," Peter managed, trying to sound normal.
"Good morning, Peter." She smiled, and Peter felt a genuine shock.
"You look incredible! You've gotten so much younger!"
Aunt May laughed, a bright, melodic sound. "I think so too! I feel completely comfortable, and my skin feels better than it did on my wedding day. It's like I'm twenty again!"
Peter immediately understood: the Water of Life. He also immediately panicked about the implications of such a dramatic, overnight transformation.
"Mei, I think you should take a couple of days off," Peter urged. "Your change is too significant; someone will notice."
Aunt May shook her head gently. "Peter, I don't think taking time off is a good idea. We need the income." The financial reality was still a harsh constant.
Peter couldn't convince her. He ate his breakfast in a state of growing anxiety and rushed to school, determined to question Su Yi.
He cornered Su Yi near the lockers. "Su, we have a huge problem! That thing you gave Aunt May to drink made her look ten years younger. Do you know how much of a shock that will cause?"
Su Yi, remembering the beauty of "Sister May," remained calm. "Peter, if I had another choice, I wouldn't have used the Water of Life. That substance prolongs life, delays aging, and makes people younger."
He lowered his voice. "You need to realize what this means. If that item were put up for auction, the wealthy people of the entire world would be in a frenzy to buy it. You need to guard that secret."
"That's not what I mean!" Peter hissed. "I mean her change is too big; it will be discovered!"
"It's simple," Su Yi replied dismissively. "Just tell people she went for a deeply expensive, highly secretive beauty treatment, or that she's finally applying the right makeup after years of neglecting herself."
Peter could only gape.
"Next question?" Su Yi prompted.
"I, or the me in other parallel universes who became Spider-Man, did they regret it when they faced these problems?"
Su Yi paused, giving the question the gravity it deserved. "That is difficult to answer, Peter. Let me give you two examples."
"In one case, a Spider-Man's life, love, and work were completely destroyed. His girlfriend left him, and he was so devastated he lost his powers and became an ordinary man. Yet, when a crisis descended, he unhesitatingly became Spider-Man again to protect everyone."
"In another universe, he tragically lost his girlfriend. She fell from a great height, and when Peter caught her with his web, the abrupt stop due to inertia snapped her neck." Su Yi's eyes were serious. "He was utterly broken and dispirited. But when new Super-Villains appeared, he still chose to fight."
Peter was profoundly shocked by the weight of these consequences. "I understand," he whispered, a grim look on his face.
"Take your time," Su Yi advised. "But the clock is ticking."
"What do you mean?"
"This is the era of Superheroes. That means Super-Villains will also appear one after another. It shouldn't be long now."
Peter felt the true pressure. The decision needed to be made now.
Meanwhile, across town at Osborn Tower, Dr. Curt Connors was ecstatic—his gene therapy agent had passed the simulation phase and was injected into the test mice. The final observation was needed before progressing to human testing.
But the corporate clock had run out. Nels, Norman Osborn's sharp-suited assistant, strode into the lab.
"Professor Connors, Mr. Osborn is very pleased with your progress," Nels said, a cold smile on his face. "Now, human trials can proceed."
Connors was aghast. "What? Human trials now? We've only achieved simulated success. The results from the lab mice haven't even been observed, and the next step should be primates, not humans!"
"Mr. Osborn cannot wait any longer," Nels reminded him, picking up a vial of the agent. "He doesn't have much time left."
Connors was panicked. "Even if we do human trials, where will you find willing volunteers?"
Nels examined the vial with detached malice. "Why should they be willing? They won't know what this is. To them, it's just ordinary cold medicine. I know a place: a veterans' hospital."
Connors was furious. "Are you out of your mind? Testing a semi-finished product on people—and concealing the truth? This is unethical and dangerous!" He grabbed his research notes, intending to leave.
Nels grabbed Connors's severed arm, forcing him to stop. "I don't think you'll be leaving. Besides, this is how all pharmaceutical companies operate. You sound righteous, but fifteen years ago, you weren't so high and mighty."
Connors flinched. "This has nothing to do with that!"
"Doesn't it? Richard Parker was in his prime then, while you were still in rags," Nels taunted. "Let me remind you, the one who chose to refuse the previous offer was Richard Parker, not you. And his son is now your assistant."
Connors was defeated, muttering, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You don't know, or you don't want to know?" Nels pressed. "Time is running out, Professor. Are you going to help us, or not?"
Connors looked at the vial, then at his missing arm, a flicker of profound desperation crossing his face. "I won't do it. I refuse to test on unwilling people."
Nels smiled coldly. "Very well. I officially inform you: your laboratory is closed. All research results belong to Osborn Corporation. You cannot take anything with you. And your severed arm, I'm afraid, won't be regenerating like our little lab mouse's." Nels left, his shadow extending arrogantly across the room.
Connors sat alone, staring at his arm and his life's work being taken from him. The desperation, the resentment over his injury, and the knowledge that his life's work would be twisted into a weapon of deception finally broke his sanity.
In a fit of scientific madness, he quickly produced a batch of the agent. As night fell, Dr. Curt Connors injected the freshly made gene therapy agent directly into his bloodstream.
The moment the injection was completed, the screams began. The Lizard was born.
The prophecy is fulfilled: the first Super-Villain has appeared, and Peter Parker's time for deliberation is over.