[Peter]
Tony stopped fiddling with the gauntlet and looked at me, his expression shifting from analytical curiosity to something akin to focused intrigue. "Impact Web? Elaborate, Parker. Sounds unnecessarily dramatic. Did you invent a web that makes people cry?"
"No, nothing like that," I grinned. "Okay, so, you know how my organic webs are different? Denser, faster, stronger initially?"
"Vaguely recall you yammering about it once," he said, though the intensity in his gaze told me he was already piecing things together.
"Well, I studied the structure. The protein folding, the molecular chains. It's incredibly complex, obviously, but I found a way to approximate key aspects using synthetic polymers," I explained, pulling out one of the loaded web-shooters and a spare cartridge of the milky fluid. "This fluid... it's designed to be fired at much higher pressure than standard fluid. Like, three times the velocity. And the polymerization catalyst is designed for near-instantaneous reaction on impact."
I gestured with the shooter. "When it hits a target, the sudden deceleration and impact force trigger a rapid, high-density solidification. It doesn't just stick; it binds instantly, with significant kinetic energy transfer. On a normal person, it's like getting hit with a high-speed, rapidly expanding net that hardens into solid rock. It'll knock them down and lock them in place before they can even twitch."
Tony picked up the spare cartridge, turning it over in his fingers. He uncapped it and sniffed it cautiously. "Doesn't smell like much. No tell-tale chemical stink. Good. Means you're not gassing half the criminals in New York." He looked at the fluid closely. "Near-instantaneous polymerization… high velocity deployment… you basically weaponized Silly Putty."
"It's a little more complex than that," I protested, but I was smiling. "It's about controlling the energy transfer and the micro-structure for maximum binding efficiency under dynamic load."
"Right, right. So, less 'thwip,' more 'THWUMP'?" he summarized.
"Exactly!" I said, feeling a genuine surge of excitement. "It's for targets that are too fast, too strong, or just require immediate, absolute immobilization. Cuts down reaction time to zero. I call it the Impact Web."
Tony put the cartridge down and leaned back slightly, crossing his arms. He studied the suit again, then me.
"Alright, Parker," he said, his voice lower, more serious. "High-velocity synthetic organic mimicry with controlled kinetic energy transfer on impact for rapid polymerization. You didn't just tweak the formula; you reinvented the wheel here."
My heart did a little flip-flop. That was high praise from him. Like, Everest-level high praise.
"It's based on my own biology, mostly," I mumbled, feeling a little heat creep into my cheeks, trying to maintain some humility. "Just... translated it."
"Based on your own biology," Tony repeated, a slow nod. "Resourceful. Smart. Leveraging what you have instead of complaining about what you don't. That's… that's good engineering, kid. That's damn good." He finally looked me in the eye, and the usual playful glint was replaced by pure, unadulterated respect. "I'm impressed, Peter. Really impressed. This isn't just superhero gear; this is genuinely advanced materials science."
I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear that until he said it. It wasn't about being Spider-Man; it was about Peter Parker, the kid who built things in his bedroom. Getting that recognition from Tony Stark? It felt incredible. A warmth spread through my chest, momentarily pushing back the constant hum of anxiety.
"Thanks, Tony," I said, the words feeling a little thick. "That... uh, that means a lot."
He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Earned it. But why? Why the sudden leap in firepower? Standard webs seemed to handle most of the street-level goons just fine."
This was it. The other reason I was here. I took a breath. "It's... yeah, the standard stuff is fine for most things. But the city's been getting weird lately. More... professional threats."
"A few nights ago," I started, choosing my words carefully, "I ran into someone. Calls himself The Raptor. Definitely enhanced – fast, strong, brutal. But it wasn't a standard fight. He wasn't trying to steal anything, wasn't just causing chaos. It felt targeted. Like he was looking for something. Me."
Tony's expression tightened, the casual mask gone completely. He was listening intently now.
"That's the thing. I don't know," I admitted. "We tangled, I webbed him up and turned him in. But the weirdest part? He vanished. Off the grid. No trace."
I paused again, rubbing the back of my neck. "It feels connected to… to Deliah."
The name hung in the air between us. Deliah. An assassin. Died months ago. In The Raft.
"Deliah?" Tony frowned. "The Assassin? She's been dead for months. Died in the Raft, didn't she? What could she possibly have to do with some new guy who got overconfident like 'The Raptor'?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," I said, the weariness returning. "It's a hunch and no matter how much I try to get it go it feels like somethings there."
I looked down at the duffel bag, at the new suit. "That's why I needed the Impact Web. Whatever this is, it's bigger than me just swinging around hoping for the best. I need to be able to neutralize threats instantly, decisively, especially if they're operating with this level of precision and power. The Raptor… he wasn't someone I could just web up and tie to a lamppost."
"Deliah," he murmured again, the name quiet, thoughtful. "Interesting. The Raft is famous for its security, a dead assassin's loose end suddenly appearing? That's... inconvenient." He looked back at me, his focus sharp. "And this Raptor character. You think he's linked to anyone specific? Organisation?"
"Working on it," I said. "It feels... solo. But highly trained. Professional. Not a random guy in a costume."
Tony tapped his chin. "Alright. So, you built a state-of-the-art, instant-restraint system because a ghost from the past sent a bird-themed goon after something related to a dead assassin. Sounds about right for your life, kid." He paused. "You checked her inmate files? Who visited her? Any strange transfers in or out around that time?"
"That's phase two," I said, feeling a little relief that he was leaning into the problem-solving, not just dismissing it. "Phase one was making sure I wouldn't get flattened if he showed up again. And phase two is... hard. Getting access to old Raft files isn't exactly easy. Especially for a high school student."
"I'm busy with the whole relocation stuff and talks with the goverment at the moment but if I have some spare time I'll look into it." He told me, flipping a pen he picked up.
"Thanks, Tony."
"Hey, before you leave I can ask the Raft and local force personallyto treat you like a superhuman specialist investigator. That way you can get access to the files you want now and in the future. They won't say no if Iron-Man asks for it." He added.
"That sounds...perfect."