Educating Teenagers

Having resolved the "Aunt May Crisis," the two Peters returned to their interrupted conversation. To prevent a recurrence of such an incident, they climbed out the window and took their discussion to a secluded grove several hundred meters away.

"It's about time you explained yourself," the Peter in the blue t-shirt demanded first. "Who exactly are you? What's your purpose?"

"I know perfectly well who I am. My name is Peter Parker." Peter met his gaze without yielding. "The question is, who are you?"

"That's interesting, because I'm the real Peter Parker, and I'm quite sure I don't have a twin with the same name. If you really are me, then you must know things only I would know. For instance..." He thought for a moment. "Who was the first girl you liked?"

"Mary Jane Watson. She moved in across the street when I was five," Peter answered without hesitation. "We were best friends from then on, and I liked her for a long time until her family moved away when I was thirteen. I haven't seen her since."

The Peter in the blue t-shirt narrowed his eyes and stared at him uncomfortably for a while.

"That was lucky, but you pass this question."

"Now it's my turn to ask," Peter inquired. "Who was Peter Parker's first girlfriend?"

"Gwen Stacy," the blue-t-shirt Peter replied curtly. "I barely spoke to girls before high school. Gwen was the first person who was willing to let me get close, until..."

He stopped, closing his eyes gently, as if truly reliving a painful memory.

"...So that's why you gave up being Spider-Man," he murmured.

Peter noticed the shift in pronouns from "I" to "you" in his statement.

"Damn it, you really are the genuine Spider-Man." The other Peter's face contorted in pain. "These memories, they're so real. I can remember every detail clearly. I remember Gwen falling from the bridge, I remember Harry's manic laughter, and how you tried everything to catch her, but deep down, I knew it wasn't real. I tried to convince myself, to believe I was the real Spider-Man, but the moment Aunt May walked in, I realized I couldn't be you..."

Peter stood frozen, unsure of what to say.

"...I realized I'm just a fake, your shadow," the other Peter continued. "I'm not Peter Parker, I'm not Spider-Man. I'm a clone of Spider-Man."

"Wait, you're saying you're my clone?" Peter asked in surprise. "But who..."

"Yes, and unfortunately, I'm not the only one. There are some much worse..."

Before Clone Peter could finish, a sharp, needle-like pain struck both of them simultaneously. Alerted by their Spider-Sense, both Peters turned their heads at the same time, only to see the black-clad figure in the tattered red cape descending from the sky once more. He executed an aerial flip and landed heavily before them.

"Okay, so I was about to tell you there were much worse clones?" Clone Peter leaped back, assuming a stance. "Look, here he comes."

***

After wolfing down his third sandwich, the clone girl finally seemed to accept her current situation. Michael briefly explained the whole story to her, and he was somewhat surprised to find that she didn't seem overly astonished when he mentioned she was a clone.

"So, I'm a clone," she said, wiping crumbs from the corner of her mouth and chuckling self-mockingly. "Well, deep down, I've had that feeling for a while now, as if all my memories—as clear and real as they are—belong to someone else. In all those fragments, I was just an observer. I could only watch, unable to participate or change anything, and I couldn't feel the emotions the real Gwen possessed."

She looked up, her emerald green eyes sparkling like jewels.

"You saved me?"

"Something like that."

"Thank you, truly," the girl nodded, then lowered her head, speaking in a low voice. "But why didn't you just destroy me?"

"Why would you think I'd need to do that?"

"Because I shouldn't exist, right?" Her tone was matter-of-fact, tinged with self-abandonment. "I'm not Gwen Stacy, and obviously, I'm not Spider-Man. They created me to be a weapon, to kill someone. God has no place for me in this world. My very existence is meaningless."

Wanda opened her mouth, but closed it again without saying anything. She wanted to comfort the distressed girl, but found herself knowing so little about her fate that she didn't know where to begin.

Michael pursed his lips.

Why save Gwen? Because she was said to be the most exceptional clone specimen, possessing superpowers that even surpassed the original Spider-Man, and Michael's side was short on personnel.

However, if she continued to maintain this negative state of self-denial, she clearly wouldn't be of much help.

He slowly bent down, meeting the gaze of the girl with her head bowed.

"I saved you because I have a plan," his voice was cold, sounding more like criticism than comfort. "But first, you need to understand one thing. God hasn't assigned anyone a place, not you, not me. Everyone's existence is meaningless—if they don't fight for it."

The girl looked up blankly.

"Meaning, value—these are things people give themselves, not some so-called God. Whether you like it or not, you are already alive in this world. So if you continue to live your life with such thoughts, wasting your talents, then you are indeed meaningless. But if you decide to take control of your destiny and forge your own future, then from this moment on, you are Gwen."

The girl's eyes widened as she met his gaze up close. She felt as though the eyes before her were deep and sharp, like a keen razor, carrying an irresistible persuasiveness.

A phone ringtone sounded from the pocket inside Michael's trench coat.

He stood up straight, took out his phone, and looked at the screen. The caller ID showed Sherry.

"Sorry, excuse me for a moment."

Michael left the room and entered the corridor, closing the door before answering the call. "What is it? I'm busy educating the youth."

"Apologies for interrupting your affairs, sir," Sherry said. "But you instructed me to report to you personally upon finding the base of any remaining fugitive Hydra leaders?"

"Any leads?"

"Daniel Whitehall, one of the biggest fish, sir. Five minutes ago, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent reported his whereabouts."

"Alright. Don't hang up yet, wait for me for a moment."

Michael put down his phone, returned to the room, and said to the three super-powered teenagers, "Apologies, I have an urgent matter to attend to. We'll continue our conversation when I get back. Try to get along while I'm gone, okay?"

Wanda nodded at him. "We'll take care of Gwen."

Michael closed the door and returned to the corridor. As he walked quickly outside, he put on his wireless earpiece. "Send me the address, Sherry. And prepare my armor. We're leaving in three minutes."