Arc Six. Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Three. Class Act

The days rolled in and soon enough it was time to start the academy. Peter had dressed his symbskin in a suitable fashion, Shield trainees wore simple black trousers, boots, and a grey shirt over a black undershirt, and even Natasha had laughed when she realised that nobody in the warehouse wore real clothes, it was all symbskin outfits.

Shield Academy was an impressive building. Modelled to match the Triskellion, Shields HQ on the other end of Manhatten Island, the tall impressive chrome and glass structure radiated authority and class. Peter nodded in appreciation of its well-kept grounds. In front, landscaped parks, with benches and flowers for students to relax, and from the map, round the back were track and obstacle course, a separate building for live firing training, and swimming pool and gym for training and fitness. 

The main building housed the cafeteria, labs, library and of course, classrooms. Peter would be spending most of his time in the main building, as after talking to Nat, he figured that his physical prowess not just matched anything Shield students had to offer but eclipsed it, and while he didn’t want to brag, a Mind Stone capable of feeding him any knowledge he required, plus his own eidetic memory and natural talent, meant that the actual coursework could be taken care of as fast as they could give it to him.

Which was his first week. Normally, a student would have been scouted, interviewed and then given a series of tests to determine their suitability. Peter had been recruited because of his Enhanced status and involvement in the Osborn case. As such his first two weeks would be power testing and general knowledge. Week one was powers.

Fury and Natasha had both warned him that Sheild, and ultimately the World Security Council, were going to try and take as many samples as they could get their hands on. While Fury wasn’t interested in how Peter got his powers, as an offshoot of the Super Soldier Program, the World Security Council was. 

If they could make more of him, or replicate the symbsoldier experiments that Harry had developed then it would be champagne and bonuses all around, and Peter had no intention of letting either of those cases happen. They could be happy with Gwen’s work, which Pepper had already negotiated the contracts, or they could get nothing.

Fury had gone as far as warning Peter to limit himself, not to show everything, and to keep the existence of any extraordinary powers to himself. While Peters impression of Fury had been fairly low to begin with, as he got to know him better, and got to realise that his paranoia was sometimes warranted, he started to listen to the old spy and learned that sometimes, paranoia was knowing that someone was actually out to get you.

The first power they wanted to test was his strength, whole Peter had given them a list, enhanced physiology, senses, armour, and finally his webbing a missive had still come back saying they wanted to measure them accurately. 

Peter had already been warned by Fury that the WSC knew his powers were from Oscorp’s serum plus a symbiote and wanted to know if they could be replicated. Ross had made sure that Banner and his formula was wrapped up tight under the Military’s jurisdiction and the Stacy formula was equally as untouchable. They wanted their own, and this was the one way they saw of getting it.

The first few tests were the most invasive. It was standard to take blood and test each agent for possible diseases, and to have a sample of blood type on file, but with Peter, his situation was unique. As he turned up on the first day and a sample was taken he noticed the rest of the tray. Biopsy needles and what looked suspiciously like a large-bore IV for a spinal tap were all laid out. Peter nodded at the technician who shrugged and after the first sample, he simply stood up and left. 

His contract only specified certain inoculations, for things he was immune to, and a blood sample. He didn’t care it was already dust before he got off the table, and the technician didn’t care he refused the more invasive tests. It wasn’t his job to care, and it wasn’t his job to argue with someone whose blood turned black and solidified before it was even sent for analysis.

Next, it was the part Peter was looking forwards to and had already decided not to hold back. The power tests. He had always wondered exactly how strong and fast he was, how quick his reactions were and just how far into the visible and invisible spectrum he could see. This part he didn’t lie about, and a huge testing facility had been prepared just for him.

Strength was easy. Rather than weights they put him under a hydraulic press and tried to squash him. Impressively, Peter found that his enhanced strength now maxed out at 100 tonnes, and even Venom felt that was his limit. As hushed whispers ran around the testing facility he found a small group of students had gathered to watch, so much for secrecy, he thought, but if the testers didn’t care, then neither did he.

Speed was another easy trial. For the first test, he simply ran around a track, beating every world record, then he had to move out of the way of a small ball being shot at him, managing to easily avoid them even on the machines highest setting. To test himself though, he not only closed his eyes but eventually began to catch and juggle them, much to the cheers of the students, and the scowls of the testers.

His webbing was another easy test, and Peter, facing a climbers wall simply shot webs at it and used them to swing around, it wasn’t anything spectacular, and he kept his ability to produce different types to himself.

It wasn’t until it came down to the combat and weapons testing that Peter felt a bit conflicted. As a table of guns was laid out in front of him, and the instructor motioned he shook his head,

“No, I don’t use guns. Ever.” and he walked away. Guns were just not his thing, and while he had modified his web catapult to fire along his arm, rather than from his hands he would prefer not to use any kind of technology. It was too easy to jam, remove, or just simply get in the way. A therapist might have told him his aversion was more to do with his Uncle, but the thought never occurred to him, and neither did therapy.

Peter shrugged as the instructor yelled at him, and ignore the random insulting thoughts from the crowd of recruits that had joined to watch. Apparently refusing to use a firearm lowered their opinion of him considerably, but that all changed when Peter let his clothing strip away and walked onto the mat for his combat testing.

Ignoring the very loud thoughts from both male and female students concerning Peters physique, he had to shake his head as the instructor walked onto the mat and took a stance.

“You know Natasha Romanov has been training me for tha past 6 months right?” and the instructor frowned, half shrugged and motioned with his fingers for Peter to attack.

“No groin shots, no eye-gouging, no powers?” and the instructor nodded, and then found themselves flying through the air, and staring at the ceiling of the gym. He hadn’t even seen Peter move before he was thrown. Sitting up, he looked at Peter who was standing over him, holding out a hand. Reluctantly tracking it he was lifted not just to his feet but off the mat, and he knew that the report they had been given on Peter Parker was most likely understated. Even he had thought the boy cocky, but that opinion had been changed.

“Mr Parker, I think that your presence will be a disruption, and your time would be better spent elsewhere. I doubt there is anything you would learn, and more than likely the others would get hurt trying to keep up with you,” the instructor told him and Peter agreed. He had been training with Nat already, and he soaked up not just the hand to hand fighting but any weapon she handed him, he just didn’t like them.

The situation in the classrooms was the same. After being handed a pile of homework, Peter raised an eyebrow, took a breath and sat at a computer. An hour later handing back not just the work he had been given but the whole semesters. Everything was online, and within a day he completed each task one after the other, only taking small breaks to refuel before sitting back down. 

While any normal teacher would be ecstatic, his instructor yelled at him, another ‘disruptive influence’ and after having Nat laugh and sigh off on all his course work, he was now officially a full graduate student, only required to wait until the actual graduation ceremony next year before he would be a full agent.

“So, two weeks and already I’m getting complaints,” Fury said, tapping a finger on a pile of papers, “But, finishing the course, acing every physical they threw at you, and then making sure your test results were just perfect enough to get everyone wetting their pants over replicating your powers, I don’t care if some instructors called you a menace, and that the WSC wants more than just a blood sample.”

“Yeah but-” Peter began and Fury raised a hand,

“Nope, Don’t care. The WSC wants a lot of things Parker, and you don’t see me making sure they get them. I told you the very first time, your powers, your business. As long as you don’t start killing people or being a pain in my ass, they can whistle.” Fury leant back, “That, however, does not mean that you get to spend the next year sat at home playing with yourself. You still have teamwork exercises, and you will attend, and you will behave. These are the ones that prove you’ve got what it takes to be an agent, not just the training and the smarts, but the personality and the attitude. You’ll meet your team tomorrow, until then, I suggest you familiarise yourself with the academy.” Fury stared at Peter, raised his eyebrows and pointedly looked at the door, “That was your cue to leave.” and Peter shrugged, got up and did exactly that.

Teambuilding exercises were fine, as long as whoever was actually on his team could match his power level. As he hadn’t heard from Gwen about any new Super Soldiers, or from Natasha about any recruits they thought could keep up with him, he wondered exactly who was going to be on his team.

With all his other work taken care of, it was the next day he was told to report to the front of the building, and with Natasha there, she led him further into the building, and out into a training field, where he would meet his new classmates for the semester.

As he looked over at the group, a smile and then a sneer crossed his face, pulling Nat to one side, “what the fuck Nat?” and she just grinned and pressed a finger to his shoulder,

“We don't always get to choose our teammates, Peter, so learn to behave.”

His sentiments were echoed as Wanda stood, in the same outfit as him, smiled when she saw him but Flash shouted, “What the hell?” as Rumlow pulled him to one side and gave him the same speech.

“So Peter Parker, meet your team. Wanda Maximov, and one more,” A black hair bullet streaked across the courtyard and launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around him, yelling in joy,

“Monkey!” Laura scream as she held onto him, and Peter smiled and hugged her back while making a face at Nat,

“Charles contacted Fury, as it seemed that Laura wouldn’t shut up about this, and it was agreed that she would train here as part of your team. Sorry though, Jean asked and he refused to budge, apparently, Laura is bad enough, and one accident and she’s going back to the mansion.” at which Peter scowled. 

He doubted Laura had a great grip on her powers or her emotions yet, and accidents would happen. It was a bullshit excuse to keep her away from people and Peter knew it was all Charles’s idea.

“What about them?” Peter nodded at the others,

“The Avengers will be training alongside Sword, they have more experience than you and will be a good judge of your capabilities.”

As Nat explained Peter saw the blonde-haired man from his fight with Tony, Captain America, and as he approached a technician wheeled out a large cloth-covered trolley, with Liv in tow. She waved but was quiet as the Captain spoke,

“While I'm not entirely happy to be training with civilians, Fury assures me that you will be more than capable. Just to be sure, The Avengers, led by me, are now, War Machine piloted by Agent Rumlow, Agent Webb, Eugene Thompson and as Cap looked around, “is Agent Barton?” and Nat shook her head, 

“Iron Man crushed his hand, he’s off on medical. He won’t be back.” Natasha explained. Laura, Clint’s wife had forced him to take early retirement and his days as a Shield agent, or at least an openly active Shield agent were over.

Captain America sighed, “so, just the three of us?” and Nat nodded, 

“For now anyway. I’ll be on the team for now, but officially I'm on theirs” and “Sword, newly recruited Enhanced. Peter Parker, Dusk, Wanda Maximov, Scarlet Witch, Laura Kinney, Talon.” and Liv shook her head “while not part of the team officially, Olivia Octavious will be joining, or Doc Ock.”

“I really wish they would let us change those, really, Doc Ock. Was that all they could think of?”

“I kinda like it doc,” Rumlow said, pulling off the sheet. Underneath stood the new and improved War Machine. It had been repainted the black and grey of Shields colours and the shoulders now held a mounted missile pod each and two small machine fed Gatling cannons were mounted on each wrist. Finally, the back held a large folded double-barrelled cannon, its large energy cell firing a single but devastating shot. All powered by a newly designed and improved arcstar reactor.

“So kids, ready for lesson one?” Rumlow touched the front of the armour and as he stepped backwards inside it, it closed and the suits reactor and eyes lit up. “Never let someone get into their armour.” and the weapons system whined as they powered on.