Peter Parker dreamed of images in comic book form. He could see himself changing into the superhero that he was. He could see Uncle Ben getting shot by the Sandman, even though he was not there. What Peter was seeing was how he imagined his uncle getting shot. He could also see the death of The Green Goblin. He was Norman Osborn, the father of his best friend, Harry Osborn. He could see himself getting unmasked by Harry, right before he fought Doctor Octopus. He could see himself swinging away from Harry as he flew on a glider. He could see a symbiote getting on his suit. He could see himself tearing the symbiote off, only to have it land on Eddie Brock Jr. He could see Harry saving him from The Sandman. He could see Eddie and the symbiote getting destroyed by a Pumpkin Bomb. He could see himself and Mary Jane next to their dying friend. He could see himself hugging Mary Jane in the club that she worked at.

The images went away as Peter woke up in his apartment. He got himself dressed. He opened the door to his room. After all this time, the door was still not fixed. He walked past Mr. Ditkovich.

"Morning, Peter," he said.

"Morning, Mr. Ditkovich," Peter replied. He extracted some cash from the wallet in his pocket. "Almost forgot. Here's this month's rent."

"Thank you, Peter," he said as he received the dollar bills. "Have a nice day."

"You too."

"Hi Pete," Ditkovich's daughter Ursula said.

"Hi."

"Bye."

"Bye."

My name is Peter Parker. I also go by Spider-Man. But not everybody knows that. Most of the people who knew that are dead. The only person close to me who knows is Mary Jane Watson. Boy, she's the prettiest girl I know. I hurt her two years ago, when I slapped her while I was out with another girl. That was the work of a symbiote that took over my body. Nevertheless, I still feel guilt to this day.

Peter drove his motor-bike by Mary Jane's home. She looked out the window and saw him. He waved, and then she waved. There was a brief silence before Peter drove off. Moments later, he heard a cry of help.

"Help!" a man yelled.

Peter drove into an alley and came back out wearing his red and blue suit. He was Spider-Man. Spider-Man shot webs out from his wrists and swung to the scene of the crime. Two criminals were trying to get a man away from his car so that they could steal it. Spider-Man shot webs at the two criminals and pulled them away from the driver.

"Thanks for the help, Spider-Man!"

"No problem," Spider-Man said.

The police arrived and arrested the criminals.

"Good job, Spider-Man," one of the officers said before turning his head and realizing that Spider-Man had left.

Peter went back to the alley and changed back into his normal clothes. He continued driving to his destination. It was the last day of his senior year at college. Peter listened to the words provided by all of his teachers.

"After today, the world can be yours," one of them said.

Peter nodded his head.

"Can you believe how corny this guy is?" one of the students said.

"If you had listened these last four years, you might have learned something," Peter said.

The student smiled as he shook his head, as if to say that Peter was also corny. Peter shrugged it off. Later on, he visited his former physics teacher, Doctor Curt Connors. He had a left arm, but no right arm.

"Hello, Parker," he said.

"Hey, Dr. Connors," Peter replied.

"Do you have any summer plans?" Connors asked.

"Just the usual," Peter said.

"Being lazy?" Connors said. "I'm kidding."

Peter smiled.

"Oh. Do you have any summer plans?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Ever since you showed me that symbiote, I have been researching a lot on biology. I have found out many fascinating things. I will be conducting some experiments down in Florida."

"On the symbiote sample?"

"No. I'm never letting that thing out. Especially not after that attack two years ago. It's strange how that thing showed up in this city a little while after you found that sample."

Peter felt nervous. He tried not to show it. He had to change the subject, and quick.

"What kind of experiments will you be doing?"

"It will have to do with regeneration."

"Regeneration?" Peter replied in confusion.

"Yes. I don't think that I ever told you this, but I was in the army a while ago. I can still remember the war. All the bullets. They took my hand. And then they blasted the rest of my arm. They had to lop it off at the shoulder."

Peter was not sure what to say. He felt uncomfortable hearing Dr. Connors talk about his war injury. He had to break the silence to make it seem less awkward.

"Those bastards," Peter uttered.

"It was war," Dr. Connors said. "Things like that happen. Hopefully I will find a way to get my arm back."

"I know that it's probably not my place to say this to you, but don't obsess too much over your work."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, you heard what happened to Dr. Octavius two years ago, right?"

"I will not make a mistake," Connors promised. "My work won't be all that I have while I'm in Florida. I'm bringing my wife and our son with me. We will have a good vacation together."

"Well then, have fun in Florida."

"Have fun hanging here in New York."

The two of them shook left hands. It would have been awkward if Peter had used his right hand.