Long Days Ahead
Day 1 – Refining the Formula
The next morning, Peter woke up face-down on his desk, his cheek stuck to a page of calculations.
The faint hum of the fabricator still echoed in the dorm, the latest test batch cooling in the chamber. His eyes were burning from lack of sleep, but he didn’t have time to waste.
“SIR, YOUR HEART RATE INDICATES SEVERE FATIGUE. I RECOMMEND REST.”
Peter groaned, pushing himself up. “No time, ERIC. We’ve got five days.”
He grabbed a protein bar, took a massive bite, and immediately went back to work.
Day 2 – Skipping Class & Running on Caffeine
Peter hadn’t left his dorm.
His inbox was filled with class notifications. Professors reminding him of attendance policies. Students whispering about the mysterious genius who never shows up.
Peter didn’t care.
He only left his room once—to grab four large coffees from the campus café.
The barista gave him a weird look.
“That for a party?”
Peter just stared at her. “Yeah. Sure. A party.”
He walked out before she could ask more questions.
Day 3 – The Exam & The Professor’s Fury
“SIR, YOU HAVE AN EXAM IN 25 MINUTES.”
Peter froze. “Wait. What?”
“YOUR MECHANICAL ENGINEERING MIDTERM. FAILURE TO ATTEND MAY RESULT IN COURSE PENALTIES.”
Peter sighed. He couldn’t fail the course.
Throwing on a hoodie, he grabbed his backpack and left his dorm for the first time in days.
Classroom – 10:00 AM
The moment Peter walked in, every head turned.
He hadn’t shown up in weeks. The professor—a tall, grey-haired man with permanent disappointment in his eyes—glared at him.
“Mr. Parker,” he said, voice dripping with irritation. “Nice of you to join us. I was beginning to think you’d dropped out.”
Peter just shrugged.
The professor sighed. “Sit down. You have 90 minutes.”
Peter took his seat, cracked his knuckles, and started.
10:37 AM
Peter stood up.
The professor blinked. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m done.”
The entire class turned to look at him.
“You can’t be done,” the professor said. “That’s a three-part exam.”
Peter wordlessly placed his exam on the desk. Every answer was correct.
The professor scanned it, his face twitching in irritation.
Peter just gave him a lazy two-fingered salute. “See you next time, professor. Maybe.”
Then he walked out, heading straight for coffee.
Day 4 – The Breakthrough
By now, Peter was surviving on coffee, protein bars, and pure spite.
The polymer armor was functional. It could shift between states seamlessly. But now came the hard part—scalability.
“SIR, YOUR CURRENT DESIGN IS ONLY VIABLE FOR SMALL-SCALE APPLICATIONS. FOR A FULL-BODY PROTOTYPE, YOU WILL NEED TO INCREASE MATERIAL EFFICIENCY BY 45%.”
Peter rubbed his temples. “Great. Just great.”
It was back to calculations.
Back to long nights.
Back to nonstop testing.
The deadline was in less than 24 hours.
Peter had barely slept. His body felt like hell. But the prototype was finally complete.
A lightweight non-Newtonian nano-fiber suit, capable of absorbing and redistributing kinetic energy. It could be used for hazard suits, military applications, or even advanced sportswear.
It was perfect.
Now, all he had to do was submit it.
Finalizing the Application
Peter stretched his arms, his joints popping from hours of hunching over his desk. The dim glow of his laptop screen cast shadows across his dorm, illuminating piles of empty coffee cups, protein bar wrappers, and blueprints scattered across the room.
“SIR, THE DEADLINE FOR APPLICATION SUBMISSION IS IN TWO HOURS. ALL REQUIRED SECTIONS HAVE BEEN FILLED, BUT THE FINAL VIDEO DEMONSTRATION REMAINS UNUPLOADED.”
Peter ran a hand through his messy hair, suppressing a yawn. “Right. Let’s do this, ERIC.
Peter adjusted his camera, making sure the lighting was decent. His project—a non-Newtonian nano-fiber suit capable of absorbing and redistributing kinetic energy—was laid out neatly on his workbench.
He pressed record.
“Hey, Baxter team. Peter Parker here. Age 20, mechanical engineering and chemical engineering major at ESU.”
He gestured to the prototype. “This is my submission for the internship. The material is a lightweight nano-fiber weave, enhanced with a non-Newtonian polymer matrix. Long story short, it hardens on impact but remains flexible under normal movement. It’s highly durable and has potential applications in aerospace, military, sports, and hazardous environments.”
Peter lifted a metal baseball bat.
“Here’s a simple demonstration.”
He swung the bat at the fabric. The moment of impact, the material hardened, absorbing the force. The bat bounced off with a metallic clang, leaving no dent.
He grabbed a small combat knife and dragged the blade across the surface. No cuts.
“It’s also resistant to sharp objects. I’ve reinforced it on a molecular level, making it lightweight but strong. And before anyone asks—yes, it can stop bullets. I’m not about to test that in my dorm room, but trust me, I ran the simulations.”
Peter smirked. “Hope you like it. Looking forward to the next round.”
He stopped the recording.
“SIR, VIDEO FILE SUCCESSFULLY SAVED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO UPLOAD NOW?”
Peter cracked his knuckles. “Yeah. Let’s submit this thing.”
The Baxter application portal was clean and professional. Peter uploaded his written proposal, research documents, prototype schematics, and video demonstration.
“SIR, APPLICATION SUCCESSFULLY SUBMITTED. RESULTS OF THIS ROUND WILL BE ANNOUNCED TOMORROW AT NOON. SELECTED APPLICANTS WILL BE INVITED TO THE BAXTER BUILDING FOR THE NEXT STAGE.”
Peter exhaled, slumping in his chair. Finally, it was done.
“Alright, ERIC. I actually have free time for once. Let’s—” “SIR, POLICE REPORTS INDICATE A ROBBERY IN PROGRESS AT A LOCAL CONVENIENCE STORE. MULTIPLE SUSPECTS, ARMED WITH HANDGUNS.”
“Well no rest for the wicked huh”. Peter swung high above the streets, the cool night air refreshing after days of being cooped up in his dorm.
The city below was alive with flashing lights, honking cars, and the murmur of late-night conversations.The neon glow of billboards reflected off glass skyscrapers as Peter perched on a ledge, scanning the streets.
“Alright, time to clock in.”
He leapt off the building, freefalling for a moment before shooting a web and swinging toward the scene.
A small 24/7 store in Brooklyn. The clerk had his hands raised, terror on his face as three masked menpointed guns at him.
“Open the register, old man!”
The clerk fumbled with the cash drawer, hands shaking.
One of the robbers turned to the door. “Hurry up! We don’t got all—”
THWIP!
A web shot out, yanking his gun away.
The man barely had time to react before Spider-Man landed behind him.
“Wow, classic robbery. Three guys, ski masks, guns. You know, real original. I give it a solid two out of tenfor creativity.”
The other two robbers spun around. “What the—?!”
Peter casually leaned against a shelf, inspecting a bag of chips. “Also, quick question—why do you guys always pick the most underpaid store clerks to rob? Like, really? This guy’s probably making minimum wage, and you’re over here making his night worse.”
One robber fired his gun.
Too slow.
Peter dodged effortlessly, the bullet shattering a bag of potato chips behind him.
“Oof. That’s a felony right there. Illegal destruction of snacks.”
He webbed the shooter’s arm, yanking him forward, then spun him around and knocked him out with a single punch.
The last robber panicked and bolted for the door.
Peter sighed. “Why do they always run?”
He casually shot a web at the guy’s ankles, tripping him face-first onto the floor.
The clerk stared, wide-eyed.
“Are… are they unconscious?”
Peter crouched next to one of the robbers, lifting his limp arm. It flopped back down.
“Yep. Night-night.”
He webbed all three of them to the floor.
“Call the cops, sir. And maybe get yourself a coffee after this.”
The clerk nodded. “T-Thank you, Spider-Man.”
Peter gave him a two-fingered salute. “No problem. Stay safe.”
He patrolled for hours before Peter swung away, ERIC’s voice came through his earpiece.
“SIR, YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY PREVENTED FOUR ROBBERIES AND TWO VEHICLE THEFTS TONIGHT. SHALL I PULL UP YOUR DAILY PERFORMANCE METRICS?”
Peter chuckled. “Nah, I don’t need a report card. Let’s call it a night.”
“UNDERSTOOD. SHALL I SET AN ALARM FOR NOON TOMORROW FOR THE BAXTER INTERNSHIP RESULTS?”
“Yeah. And remind me to actually eat a real meal tomorrow.”
“NOTED, SIR. I WILL ALSO INITIATE A SEARCH FOR THE MOST NUTRITIOUS TAKEOUT OPTIONS IN YOUR AREA.”
Peter sighed, exhausted but satisfied.
As he swung through the city, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement.
Tomorrow, he’d find out if he made it to the next round at Baxter.