Peter Parker's life has hit a peaceful stretch. No evildoers have tried to flatten him in weeks, his marriage to Mary Jane isstronger than ever, and he's enjoying his job as a high schoolscience teacher. Life is good.
Naturally, that doesn't last.
When Peter learns that his old enemy the Rhino is on a rampage in Times Square, he suits up as Spider-Man to stop the destructive villain in his tracks. But he's unexpectedly foiled in his attempts by the Black Cat, a former ally and old flame. The Cat informs Peter that the Rhino is just a distraction -- the real threat comes from a group of Ancients, members of the same race as the being called Morlun, who Spidey defeated in battle years earlier. The Ancients are now looking to exact revenge -- and hope to steal Spider-Man's life force in the process.
To defeat such powerful beings, Spider-Man is going to need all the help he can get, especially from the Black Cat. But what will Mary Jane Parker have to say about that? Peter isn't sure which is worse -- the Ancients trying to drain his life force, or the wrath of a jealous wife....Chapter One
My name is Peter Parker and I'm the sort of person who occasionally gets in a little over his head.
"The most important thing," said the man in the dark hood, walking down the hall next to me, "is not to show them any fear. If you hesitate, or look like you don't know what you're doing, even for a second, they'll sense the weakness. They'll eat you alive."
"No fear," I said. "No getting eaten. Check."
"I'm serious. You're outnumbered. They're faster, most of them are stronger, they can run you into the ground, and if you're going to keep it under control, you're going to have to win the battle here." He touched a finger to his forehead. "You get me?"
"Mind war," I said. "Wax on. Wax off."
The man in the dark hood stopped, frowned at me, and said, "You aren't taking this seriously."
"People always think that about me," I said. "I'm not sure why."
"See, that's what I mean," Coach Kyle said. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his workout jacket and shook his head. "You go joking around with them like that, and that's it. You've lost control."
"It's a basketball practice," I said. "Not a prison riot."
Coach Kyle was about six feet tall, with a slender build. Dark skin, and dark hair which apparently hadn't started to go gray, though he had to have been in his late forties. He wore thick glasses with black plastic Marine-issue, birth-control rims. He'd been a Hoosier, starting guard, back in the day. He hadn't made the cut to the pros. "I see," he said with a snort. "You're upset because you were the one who got stuck with running the team."
"Well," I hedged, "I wasn't much for sports when I was in school."
"This was settled at last week's faculty meeting," he told me cheerfully. "If you hadn't been the last one to arrive at this meeting, you'd be halfway home by now."
"I know." I sighed.
"Guess you had something more important come up?"
I'd been crawling around about two hundred and fifty berjillion freight-train-sized shipping containers at the piers, looking for the one the mob was using to ship out illegal immigrants for sale on the slave market. Officially speaking, they weren't people, since they hadn't filled out the right paperwork and learned the secret American handshake from the INS. Unofficially speaking, scum who target people who can't defend themselves incite me to creative outrage. By the time I had the last of them webbed to the side of their slave container in the shape of the word "LOSERS" I'd been five minutes late to the faculty meeting already.
But that's not the kind of thing you can use as an excuse.
"The dog ate my homework," I said instead.
Coach Kyle shook his head, grinning, and we stopped outside the door to the gym. "Look. Your big worry is the tallest kid there. Samuel. Best strong center I ever had, and he could go all the way. Problem
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