Chapter 6

The event was a near-carbon copy of the last one, but this time they didn't just offer sweets—they fed us an actual meal. After the early dinner, we sat around the table sipping tea and munching on cookies. Funny enough, while we had cake at my place, here at the "Dark Lord's" table there were chocolate chip cookies. I was told they were baked by Sylvia, Penny's biological mom. A tall, nearly six-foot-three mulatto woman—absolutely stunning. However, her movements were just a bit… off. It seemed like using her left arm required extra effort, almost like she was compensating by twisting her torso slightly. 

You didn't need to be a detective to see where Penny got her looks. She inherited nearly everything from her mom, with just a slightly darker skin tone from her dad. And, yeah, the cookies? Delicious. The dark side really knows how to tempt, huh? Double points for the irony that their family name is Black. Thankfully, there was no black dog or talking portraits hanging around.

Oh, speaking of their last name, let me clarify: everyone here except me is a Black. And this led to some confusion on my part early on. You see, here's how it works: Imagine a man named Black marries two women, let's say Ms. White and Ms. Gray. There are a few "acceptable" naming conventions they can follow. 

The simplest and most modern option—adopted by the "progressive" types—is for everyone to just keep their original last names. But, unsurprisingly, most people give that the side-eye for "disrespecting tradition." Tradition, by the way, revolves around two other options. The first is that everyone takes the man's name—either as-is or hyphenated. So, you'd end up with a family of Blacks or Black-Whites and Black-Grays. This was more common among the working class, middle-class businessmen, and soldiers.

The second, much fancier option, involves negotiating for the right to make the woman's surname the family name. This isn't free—there's a whole tradition of symbolic "buyouts" with expensive gifts involved. A good example? Nora Osborn's mom. She married in but "bought" the family name for herself, which is why it stayed Osborn. Fancy, right? Anyway, I won't bore you with the details, but some of the history here is wild. If you ever find a history book about this world, read up—it's worth it.

We chatted about all kinds of things: the weather, the approach of fall, my swim team, Penny's early morning extra classes. You might've noticed we live near each other but don't walk to school together. That's because Penny's been struggling with algebra—not because she's dumb or anything, it just doesn't click for her. So, for the past couple of months, the Blacks arranged for her to get tutoring before school. That's why she's already in class when I arrive.

At first, when I saw Fury, I was on edge. But as the tea was poured and small talk bounced around, I started to calm down. Sure, maybe this guy is Nick Fury, head of S.H.I.E.L.D. — the big, super-secret organization supposedly defending the world and democracy (don't forget the democracy). Or maybe he's just plain ol' Joseph Black, a dude with an eyepatch and a stern vibe. Even if he is the Fury, so what? I'm not a hidden communist spy, I don't have superpowers (yet), and I definitely don't work for Hydra. If anything, being a Hydra agent might actually increase my survival chances around S.H.I.E.L.D. — ha! Just kidding. Sort of.

I'm a good boy. I've never broken the law. Not once. I've been a model student since day one—polite, diligent, and smart enough to make my teachers and moms proud. I've embraced capitalism and democracy, partly because rejecting them when the U.S. showers me with blessings would just feel ungrateful. My friends? All top-notch. Harry Osborn? Future CEO, genius, and politically sound. Flash Thompson? Athlete, health nut, from a respectable family. And Penny? Well, she's practically destined to be a cop or firefighter—someone who protects and serves. 

Even my broader circle is squeaky clean. No degenerates or fringe radicals. I don't even make racist jokes, which is saying something considering how much I love dark humor. Hell, when I first started hanging out with Penny, I thought, "Hey, this'll probably score me some diversity points in my file." For a moment, I even considered recruiting an Asian girl to our group, but then I realized that I was being stupid.

Still, these thoughts helped me relax. Whether this guy is Fury or Black, his goal today is clear: to meet the boy dating his daughter. You might say, "Isn't this a bit sudden? Shouldn't they wait to see where things go?" And I'd say: that's Earth logic. Here, if a guy shows interest in a girl and she likes him back, it's all systems go. Her family and friends rally behind her like a SWAT team, determined to secure the "catch." If the guy's a loser, like that dumbass MJ, they'll just let it fizzle out.

To be honest, when I realized where I'd landed, I was half-expecting one of those absurd fanfiction worlds where you can't step outside without getting ambushed by horny maniacs. Like, you leave your apartment to buy bread and suddenly you're getting jumped in the stairwell, groped on the street, and propositioned in the bakery. Look, I'm all for a healthy sex drive—big fan, really—but even I have my limits. Can you imagine getting so much action you start dreading it? No thanks. Thankfully, this world is weird but not that weird. Sure, people might check you out or strike up a conversation, but they're not drooling baboons trying to drag you into their cave. At least, not so far.

The conversation was unfolding as expected, with Joseph entertaining everyone with polar expedition stories, much to the delight of his daughters. It was obvious they adored their father and were thrilled to have him home. His wives mostly stayed quiet, smiling warmly and refilling cups of tea. I suppose it's time to introduce Penny's sisters—Linda and Wanda Black.

Both were older than Penny, one by two years, the other by four. Their biological mothers were absent—killed in the same operation that left Sylvia injured. That injury had turned Penny's mom from a soldier into a housewife. I didn't pry into their family matters; everything I knew came from Penny's casual remarks or overheard snippets of conversation at their house. 

Linda, in her final year of high school, seemed to have inherited her looks from a white mother—lighter-skinned than Penny, with striking green eyes, wavy dark-brown hair, and a classically beautiful face. Wanda, on the other hand, was darker than Penny, with tight, curly hair, more pronounced African features, and deep black eyes. She was currently in college.

Both sisters were chatterboxes and full of humor, constantly teasing Penny with comments like, "That's right, sis—start training your man while he's young. You're wise beyond your years." They'd shoot exaggerated pitying looks at me while Penny turned red with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. I'd blush too, but more out of sheer awkwardness, even as I grinned like a fool.

Gradually, the women and girls excused themselves from the table and disappeared to who-knows-where, leaving me alone with Mr. Black. Now, I'd read plenty of fanfiction where Nick Fury's infamous "piercing, scrutinizing gaze" gets brought up, but there was none of that here. Either he was a world-class super-spy hiding his intentions flawlessly, or he really was just a regular guy. Then again, there's always the third option: I'm just a clueless idiot who wouldn't notice a thing. But let's not dwell on that, okay?

After some small talk—mostly about me—Mr. Black got to the point.

"Tobias," he began with a warm smile, "I've heard so much about you from my daughters and wives over the years. Honestly, with all the praise they've given you, I'd been hoping you and Penny would end up being more than just friends. And I'm glad to see my hopes answered. You and I have something in common: I, too, believe that a man in our world should stand on his own feet and be a person of substance. Your academic achievements and your ambitions make me proud. Setting goals and striving for success at your age, especially in the IT field—a field not typically chosen by boys—is remarkable. On top of that, I've heard you're already earning your own money. That speaks volumes about your drive and character."

Oh, the sweet, sweet sound of validation. Yes, sir, please, keep singing my praises. Don't stop. Smother me in compliments and recognition. I tried to look appropriately flattered, even puffing up slightly with pride. I mean, who doesn't like being acknowledged like that? Honestly, I wasn't expecting him to be so direct about his hopes for me and Penny or so generous with his approval. But hey, I wasn't complaining. Praise me all you want, Mr. Black.

"I love my Penny dearly," he continued, his tone softening. "I want nothing but the best for her. I know you two are just starting this new chapter, moving from friends to something more, and I want you to take your time and truly get to know each other. But I have to ask—please don't break her heart. It's my duty as her father to say this, even if it seems obvious. While women may be the stronger sex—protectors, providers, warriors—they are vulnerable when it comes to matters of the heart. Brave and independent as they are, they give us men power over them when they let us into their lives. We become their safe haven, their anchor. When they come home, whether tired from work or wounded from battle, they need us to remind them that all their efforts are not in vain. That it's all for family, for love, and for their happiness."

His voice was calm, steady, and filled with such sincerity that it pulled me into a kind of trance. I just nodded like a bobblehead, feeling the weight of his words. Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.? Who cares? Right now, he was just a father, worried about his daughter, wanting the best for her.

"Mr. Joseph, sir," I began, my voice a little shaky, "Penny and I have been friends for a long time. Honestly... well, she's really beautiful, and I've liked her for a while. We talk a lot—at school, after school, all the time. And, um... yesterday, something changed for me. It was like a lightbulb went off. I realized how important she is to me, and I want to be there for her. She's kind, supportive, and smart, and she treats me as an equal—not like some kid or with the condescension guys often get. I respect her for who she is and how she lives her life." The words spilled out, raw and unfiltered. "The last thing I'd ever want is to hurt her. It's too early to say for sure, but... if things go well, I'd like her to be my First."

Phew. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Did I just hear a faint squeak from behind the door?

Mr. Black glanced towards the door and smirked, winking his one good eye at me.

"Seems we have eavesdroppers, Tobias. Thank you for your honesty. I might have only one eye, but I can see you're a good kid. And now I can rest easier knowing my daughter has chosen someone worthy. Let's head to the living room. Sylvia's probably finished making her special lemonade—a family recipe passed from mother to daughter." He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, as if to say, "Not only is she amazing, but she comes with bonus life skills". Meanwhile, muffled shuffling and whispers retreated from behind the door.

I hung out with the Black family in the living room for a while longer. We chatted a bit more before I decided to head home—homework was calling, and they had family news to catch up on. Penny offered to walk me out, and the entire way, she was quiet and dreamy, a small, far-off smile playing on her lips. As we said goodbye, she leaned in and kissed me on the lips. Quick, fleeting, her face darkening with a blush, but she did it on her own. Kawaii, heh-heh.

Nearby, two girls smoking and chatting watched the scene unfold. They exchanged knowing smiles, and one of them even gave Penny a thumbs-up, nodding approvingly with an exaggeratedly smug expression.

Back home, everything was normal—except for G. She pounced on me like a hawk, squealing, "So? Well? What happened? What's the tea? Spill it!" I managed to fend her off with the bare-bones version: it was a nice evening, Mr. Joseph was a great guy, and that was that. Skipping dinner, I headed off to do my homework.

It took longer than usual to get through, which was strange, but probably due to the stress of the past few days. So much had happened, and my focus was all over the place. Still, I finally defeated the homework beast and went to bed. Lying there, I couldn't stop my brain from wandering.

Magneto. Mystique. Deadpool. Venom. Now Fury. What's next, Goddess? Will Judy's mom turn out to be—wait. Hold up. Freeze everything. The last time I jokingly speculated that Penny's dad might be Nick Fury, I ended up meeting a one-eyed, bald, suspiciously motherfuckabulous man who turned out to be her actual dad. So yeah, let's keep the predictions absurd and harmless this time, okay? Like, I don't know, maybe the Ancient One's secretly a dude with an Elvis pompadour. Whatever. But Fury? That's... complicated. Is this good or bad? Hmm. Hmmmmm.

It's really ambiguous. On one hand, dating the daughter of the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. could mean... surveillance? Meh, whatever. Honestly, I've never done the one thing every reincarnator is supposed to do: make a detailed step-by-step plan on paper. Too risky, man. It's all in my head—hardcore mode only. Yeah, I forget stuff sometimes, but it's fine. There's really nothing for me to worry about. Canon Fury was paranoid, sure, but this Fury? A family man in a full-blown matriarchy? That doesn't line up with the guy who dedicated his life to fighting evil—or whatever his version of evil was.

The only thing I'm planning, really, is the spider plan. And it's completely aboveboard. I mean, what's illegal about letting a spider bite you? Say I pick up a spider and go, "Oh wow, cool spider, I'll keep it in a jar at home," and then it bites me. Oops. People do dumb things all the time. Beyond that, I've got no plans to do anything sketchy—no taking over Kingpin's empire, no overthrowing the Hand. Just living my life, no drama. Maybe snag a few superpowers here and there, but first: spider plan. Focused and simple.

As for Penny, I want to be with her. No plans to break up. Two reasons: One, Joseph might not actually be Fury. Two, I think I really love her.

Sure, there's the potential risk of someone trying to get to Fury through me, but that's stupid. I'm not his kid. If anyone wanted to pressure him, they'd go after his daughters or wives. I'm just an afterthought. And if I do get spider powers? Well, anyone who tries to mess with Penny is going to get a... generous serving of unpleasantness. So yeah, I don't see any major threats here. There are even potential perks—if he is S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top dog, he might be able to pull some strings for me someday.

For now? Sleep. Nothing catastrophic has happened yet.

The next morning, I woke up earlier than my alarm. And for the first time in days, I felt... good. Lighter. Clear-headed, even. Guess resolving personal issues really does lift your spirits. Heh.

Seizing the opportunity before the tiny ginger terrorist commandeered the bathroom, I went to freshen up. My back hurt a little under my right shoulder blade, like I'd bumped into something or maybe caught a draft. Pulling off my pajama top, I checked in the mirror—and froze.

What the hell?

There, under my right shoulder blade, was a small bruise. Four tiny puncture marks formed a triangle with a fifth dot in the center. They were unnervingly precise. Like... an injector?

What the actual fuck is going on?