After finishing his nightly workout and playing video games for a while, Tobey went to sleep precisely at nine o'clock.
...
"Oh, shit!"
"Dammit, dammit! What the hell is happening? Stop spraying!"
The next morning, Tobey was violently awakened by Peter's panicked screaming through the wall.
Tobey sat up slowly. Listening to the continuous thuds and crashes of Peter destroying his own room, Tobey took his time. He casually put on his clothes, brushed his teeth, and finally opened his door to twist the knob on Peter's.
Stepping inside, the first thing Tobey noticed was the digital alarm clock on Peter's nightstand, which had been completely pulverized by a single slap.
He then looked toward the attached bathroom. Peter was desperately trying to plug a geyser of water shooting out of the wall, having somehow accidentally ripped the entire metal faucet clean off the sink.
"Peter..."
Hearing Tobey's voice, Peter whipped his head around. His face was a mask of absolute panic, and he immediately started babbling incoherently.
"Oh! Tobey! I can explain! Well, actually, I don't really know what's going on either, but I'm sure there's a perfectly logical, scientific explanation for all of this! Just trust me!"
Seeing the chaos, Tobey didn't show a single ounce of surprise.
After all, he was the one who had secretly orchestrated the whole thing.
Tobey casually raised his wrist. A stream of white webbing shot across the room, instantly and perfectly sealing the ruptured pipe Peter had been struggling with.
Peter stared blankly at the newly formed web-seal, then slowly turned his eyes to Tobey's wrist. His voice trembled.
"How... how did you do that? What the hell was that?!"
Tobey ignored the question. He simply tilted his head toward the hallway.
"Follow me."
With that, Tobey turned and walked out.
Having no other choice, Peter hurriedly scrambled after him.
The two cousins headed downstairs. Peter followed Tobey into the massive, custom-built underground gym that usually only Tobey ever used.
Flipping on the heavy overhead lights, Tobey walked over to the racks of specialized equipment. Using only one hand, he casually lifted a massive, custom-made barbell and dropped it right at Peter's feet.
BOOM.
"Peter. Pick that up."
Peter pointed at himself in utter disbelief.
"Huh? M-Me?"
He wasn't stupid. He had distinctly felt the solid concrete floor shudder violently when that barbell landed.
And looking at the absurdly massive, custom-forged plates loaded on both ends, Peter didn't need to be a physicist to realize the weight of this thing was entirely outside the realm of human capability.
Tobey nodded firmly.
"That's right. You, Peter Parker. Pick it up."
Realizing Tobey was completely serious, Peter gulped nervously and stared down at the massive chunk of iron.
"Exactly... how heavy is this thing?"
Tobey answered flatly.
"Not that heavy. Just around twenty-two hundred pounds."
"Oh, okay. Just twen— wait. What did you say?!"
Peter had started to sigh in relief, thinking Tobey had said two hundred pounds. Then his brain processed the final zero.
Two thousand, two hundred pounds.
A literal metric ton!
Holy shit! This single barbell weighs as much as fifteen of me!
In that moment, a terrifying realization crashed into Peter's mind. His cousin's physical strength was nowhere near normal!
The absolute highest deadlift record in recorded human history was just over a thousand pounds. Yet Tobey had just casually picked up a barbell more than double that world record with a single hand!
Was he even human?!
Suddenly, Peter felt as though he was looking at a complete stranger...
Smack!
A painfully familiar flick to the forehead instantly grounded him. Looking at Tobey withdrawing his two fingers, Peter realized this was definitely still his cousin, not some alien imposter.
Tobey clapped Peter on the shoulder, his voice steady and commanding.
"Peter, I know your head is full of questions right now. I promise I will tell you everything you want to know. But first, you have to pick that up."
There was a strange, magnetic gravity to Tobey's voice. It slowly calmed the chaotic storm in Peter's chest. Peter gave him a heavy, determined nod.
It wasn't just that Peter wanted answers. It was because he trusted his cousin implicitly.
Since they were kids, Tobey had always known exactly what he was doing. This time would be no different.
Peter bent down, gripped the thick steel bar with both hands, took a deep breath, and yanked upward with all his might!
Instantly, his entire world spun upside down.
When his vision finally cleared, Peter found himself staring directly at the ceiling lights.
Looking down, he realized he was flat on his back on the floor, and the massive barbell was resting directly across his chest.
What the fuck? What just happened?
That was his first thought.
His second thought was sheer panic. Staring at the ton of iron resting on his ribs, he instinctively screamed for help.
"Oh God! My chest! My chest! Tobey, help me! Get it off!"
Instead of rushing to 'save' him, Tobey simply crossed his arms. A highly amused smirk crept across his face.
"Save you? Peter, did you already forget how that thing got on top of you?"
"Huh?"
Peter froze. His brilliant brain quickly rewound the last ten seconds of his memory.
He had assumed the barbell weighed over two thousand pounds, making it mathematically impossible for him to lift. So, he figured if he just pulled hard enough to make it budge slightly, he would consider it a success. He had poured absolutely every ounce of his strength into the pull.
And then...
Peter sharply inhaled a breath of cold air.
Because he clearly remembered that he hadn't just made it budge. He had ripped the literal ton of iron off the floor so effortlessly that his own excessive momentum had violently thrown him backward onto the mat!
He—a scrawny teenager weighing less than a tenth of that barbell—had just deadlifted a metric ton?
Was this actually real?
To prove it to himself, Peter gripped the bar resting on his chest and pushed upward.
When the barbell easily lifted into the air like it was made of foam, Peter finally realized this wasn't a dream!
He stood up and let the barbell drop back to the floor. The concrete groaned under the impact, finally waking him from his daze.
He, Peter Parker, had actually become a superhero!
Seeing that Peter had finally accepted his new reality, Tobey slipped his foot under the steel bar. With a casual, perfectly calculated flick of his ankle, he kicked the massive one-ton barbell directly back onto its reinforced storage rack.
Tobey grinned.
"How does it feel, Peter? Pretty damn good, right?"
Peter stared in absolute shock at the custom-reinforced rack that somehow hadn't shattered into splinters under the impact. Then he looked down at his own hands, a massive, ecstatic smile spreading across his face.
"Yeah! It feels incredible! It feels like... like I'm filled with absolute, invincible power! Like I'm as strong as Superman from the DC comics!"
Hearing that comparison, Tobey's mouth twitched in annoyance. He reached out and lightly punched Peter in the chest.
"Don't get cocky just because you leveled up a bit. You think your scrawny little frame can compare to Superman? Forget about Superman—you're not even close to my level yet!"
Peter rubbed his chest. He hadn't felt a thing when a one-ton barbell landed on his ribs, but Tobey's seemingly effortless punch had actually left a dull ache behind.
That single ache was enough to pull Peter down from his power trip. His rational brain finally overpowered his newly minted muscles, and logic reclaimed the high ground.