//------------------------------//
// Ch. 1 "Daddy's Girl" 
// Story: Ultimate Spiders and Magic: Episode VI "Smoke and Mirrors" 
// by Maximus_Reborn 
//------------------------------//

Chapter One “Daddy’s Girl” 

“I told you he wasn’t going,” Spitfire chuckled, turning to share a knowing glance with Octavious, “You owe me five bucks.”

The sun shone brightly overhead, filling Canterlot City with a sense of warmth. Yet, rays of light from the outside failed to enter the confines of the lab of Otto Octavious. Peter murmured under his breath while narrowing his gaze on the prosthetic brace wrapped around Spitfire’s lower back. He tightened a pair of knobs at the center where her spine rested. The device stirred to life, humming as the orthosis around her legs tightened. 

Octavious stood behind Peter while alternating his intent gaze between the woman and the computer screen on the nearest desk. “To be fair, Miss Spitfire, even young Twilight went along for the trip. I believe that negates the wager.” 

“Hey, don’t try to weasel your way out of it! The bet was for Peter! Not Twilight!” Spitfire called out, holding out an open hand. 

Octavious could only let out a defeated sigh as he surrendered a small bill to the woman. “Be careful showing such ravenous behavior. It’s unbecoming of you.”

Peter lifted his gaze momentarily, bemused before placing the screwdriver down. “Seriously? You guys do realize that I just had a life-altering experience? I mean, it’s not everyday a guy turns into a giant man-eating spider.”

Spitfire huffed. “Would that have really mattered? I’ve got a feeling you would have found a way to talk yourself out of going on that trip regardless.” Once Peter arched a brow in her direction, the woman raised her hands defensively. “I’m only going off of what I see. You’ve spent more time with me than your friends. Besides, am I wrong?”

“I cannot, and will not, confirm or deny that accusation,” Peter blankly stated, reverting his attention back to the center knob over the woman’s spine. 

Inhaling deeply before sighing, Spitfire managed a nod before biting down onto her lip. The woman eased onto her feet, managing to stand upright for a few seconds. However, the strength in her lower extremities diminished and left her to collapse to the padded floor. Peter slid his arm underneath Spitfire’s pit, allowing the woman to pull herself back to her feet with some support. 

“Cerebrospinal fluid readings are in the green,” Peter declared, pausing to ensure the woman could stand on her own before facing his mentor. “Dial the pressure back two points. Her muscle structure is overcompensating for the balance. It will probably be another week or two before she is ready for phase two.”

Octavious nodded before sitting at the nearest desk, pecking away at the computer’s keyboard. “Noted. Spitfire’s healing is progressing ahead of schedule thanks to the prosthetics training.” As the screen filled with text, the man cleared his throat after Spitfire eased into the plush comfort of the sofa across the room. A brow raised behind his large pair of shades. “I believe Miss Spitfire has a point. You spend quite a bit of time in the lab. I appreciate your due-diligence, but I can’t help but notice that most of your time is spent here, at school, or as your costumed counterpart.”

A harsh scoff escaped from Peter’s mouth. “What are you two getting at all of a sudden? Is this really about that stupid camping trip?”

“No way, dude. It’s not about the trip,” Spitfire lightly declared, pausing to wipe away the sweat from her forehead with a dry cloth. Sobering, she shared a glance with Peter as he gently removed the orthosis from her lower region. “We know you went through a lot recently. I was just hoping you were going to unwind and have some fun.”

Peter’s eyes softened at the woman’s firm yet gentle tone. “I appreciate that. I mean, this is relaxing for me. I feel better working with my hands and doing something productive.” He smirked, flipping open a panel and revealing the bracer’s inner circuitry. “Do I look like a guy that can survive for a weekend without a single microchip?”

Spitfire shrugged, shaking her head coyly. “I guess not, but my point still stands. You still don’t hang out with your friends nearly enough. It’s probably why Colonel Fury recommended you to Crystal Prep the first time. You come off as a snob with the way you avoid your friends sometimes.”

Raising a finger, Peter readied himself to respond, but he could only recoil, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “That’s not the first time I heard that.”

“Nonetheless, my boy, you know that what she says has merit. Even I am not beyond breaking my introverted ways. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met my wife, Rosalie,” Otto interjected, keeping his attention centered on the wall of text on the computer screen. “You’ve put in plenty of hours and have contributed immensely to Spitfire’s rehabilitation. Perhaps you should take the next few days off? It gives Spitfire a chance to recuperate and myself time to study the changes your DNA has undergone.”

Raising a finger, Spitfire pursed her finger. “I can actually help with that, Doc. It’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to Peter about. He technically owes me a gym grade. If the dork doesn’t want to go to camp, then I’ll actually give him a workout.” Leaning forward in her seat, the woman rubbed at her chin with the palm of her hand. “I have a spot we can use. It’d be a good way to gauge where the dude’s limits are. Plus, it’s a good way to retrain your body. You mentioned everything’s been off since your were-spider spell. It’s just good to know what your limits are now. The last thing you want to happen is that you hurt someone or yourself because you under or overestimated your abilities.”

Blinking, Peter chuckled sheepishly. “Sounds like a bad idea. I’m not so sure about that.”

“Nonsense! That sounds like a brilliant idea!” Octavious firmly declared, practically materializing next to Spitfire with a clipboard in hand. His bright visage darkened as an unsettling grin surfaced on his face. “Make certain that you document everything! I’ll supply any devices should you need suggestions. I have a colleague joining our team. He is a brilliant geneticist, and I can have him bring in anything you need.”

“Everything’s an experiment with you, Doc. All we’re missing is a hamster wheel,” Peter groaned, his brow twitching in exasperation. “I’m almost afraid to ask who you’re bringing on board. Twilight’s… a questionable choice. She not only hates me as Peter Parker, but also wants to dissect Spider-Man like a frog in biology. No exaggeration.”

“It’s research and a surprise,” Octavious hastily stated, clumsily straightening his shades with a finger. With a brief nod, the man huffed. “Do not fret. He is a friend I’ve known for years, who wants to use his research to help mankind. Considering the disaster we narrowly avoided, I’d like to exercise extreme caution to ensure your safety and future. Your identity will not be compromised, I assure you.”

Humming inwardly, as if contemplating the man’s words, Peter was slow to respond, but he relented, hesitantly smiling briefly. “Okay. Thanks, Doc. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Spitfire nodded, grinning. “I’m sure. Anyway, stop acting like we’re twisting your arm, dude.” Just as Peter slid his lab coat from his shoulders, the woman furrowed her brow. “What were you planning to do outside of work, anyway? I swear that I’m going to find you a hobby if you say anything video game related.”

“Well, I was going to go to the library,” Peter murmured, nodding once Spitfire’s face grew blank, “and, yes. I’m serious. I really like to read.”

Spitfire rolled her eyes, the corner of her lips curling into a smirk. “You are such a dork.”

Peter scratched the back of his head and shrugged. “That was my plan, but Trixie’s dragging me along to see her dad’s show. Apparently, he’s some big shot magician. Cheerio? Oreo? Mystico? Or something like that.”

“You mean Mysterio?” Spitfire questioned before her features lit up, evident by her widening grin and sparkling irises. “Oh, crap! Seriously?! He’s coming back into town?!” she blurted out, fumbling to retrieve her phone from the confines of her bag. Scrolling past the walls of text on her device’s screen, the woman exhaled before shaking her head furiously. “I’ve been so focused on rehabbing that I didn’t realize that I almost missed his show! I’m just glad that I reserved my tickets in advance!”

Slow to respond, Peter folded his arms. “Am I missing something? Is Trixie’s dad that famous?”

Pausing, Spitfire stared intently at the young man with an arched brow. “It’s easy to forget that you aren’t from around here. Before magic or whatever it is that has taken over Canterlot City, we had the Great and Powerful Mysterio!” She readied to respond further, but the woman lifted her gaze, nodding feverishly. “I won’t spoil anything. You’re in for a treat, if this is your first time hearing about him. There’s no one that does illusions and special effects quite like Jackpot! He even performs his own stunts! I modeled some of my aerial techniques after him!”

“Did you say Jackpot?” Octavious questioned, stealing a glance at Spitfire from the corner of his eye. Once the woman nodded again, the man’s brow furrowed before he hummed under his breath. “It’s good to see that he’s found a new hobby. I do question the name change, but all things considered…”

“Did you two know each other?” Spitfire asked, tilting her head to the side. 

Otto inhaled deeply before sighing. “We worked together. He’s a brilliant mind, but he was a bit… narcissistic. One could only bear so much for so long in his presence.” A bead of sweat fell down the side of the man’s cheek. “Let’s just say that in regards to your friend, Miss Lulamoon, you will learn that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.”

As if a thought came into mind, Spitfire pursed her lips. “Hang on. You said he changed his name. What was it before? Plus, now that you mention it, you also said you two were coworkers.”

“It’s not my place to say. I’m certain Jackpot has his reasons for altering his identity,” Otto whispered, holding a stern expression towards the woman, “I imagine you can understand that sentiment.”

Oblivious, Peter simply shrugged before gesturing a wave to both adults. “We’ll have to continue this later. Trixie will kill me if I don’t make it in time,” he huffed, grabbing his backpack from the nearest rack and exiting through the main door of the building, “Time to see what the fuss is all about.”







People steadily gathered within the large building at the center of the city, filling in dozens of rows of seats. Nearly packed to capacity, everyone kept their attention locked on the stage, as they eagerly waited for the show to begin. Peter sat quietly at the front row with his eyes slammed shut. The surrounding clamoring of the crowd sent waves of pain coursing through his cranium, worsening as his ears seemingly picked up every sound in the vicinity. Retrieving a pair of plugs from his pocket, Peter hastily slid the pieces into his ears, and the young man sighed contently, as the heightened pitch piercing the confines of his brain lessened.

Soon, Trixie walked past some of the seated patrons with a bag of popcorn and beverage in each hand. “I hope you are grateful, Bumpkins! To obtain such seats is a miracle!” she exclaimed, sneering, “Now, you will bear witness to the greatest show in the galaxy!”

“Speaking of which, you’ve never mentioned your father until now,” Peter asked, narrowing his gaze on the girl. “As a matter of fact, you haven’t talked about your mother, father, or family at all. What’s that about?”

Trixie blinked, as if taken aback by the question, but she scoffed in response, shrugging dismissively. “Do I go around asking about your family history? If you are meaning to pry, stop it. That’s rude.” 

Frowning, Peter’s expression grew blank. “I was just asking a question. Geez. It’s just that you are usually an open book about everything.”

“What Trixie meant to say is that it’s fairly obvious that her father is a traveling magician. I simply assumed that you had some tact and took that into consideration,” Trixie dryly responded, pausing to take a sip from her beverage, “As usual, you are rather dense, but I will forgive this transgression as well. Why must you hate taking my feelings into consideration?”

Slow to respond, Peter grumbled under his breath before simply nodding. “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

The girl pompously hummed, smirking. “Of course I’m right, Bumpkins.” As Peter turned briefly, Trixie’s expression softened momentarily, but she swiftly straightened her posture once the lights in the arena dimmed. Her hands clutched at her bag, causing some of her popcorn to fall to the ground. “Shush! The show’s about to begin!”

Darkness steadily spread throughout the arena, until every shred of light dissipated from sight. Soon, an array of multi-colored small lights flickered and rose from the center stage. They danced in place, spiraling across the room before aiming at one spot in particular. Suddenly, a cloud of smoke erupted and spread, filling the stage with a mist. That same moment, a silhouette of an individual materialized into existence at the center of the fog. They wore golden armor under a heavy violet cloak, keeping their face hidden underneath what appeared to be a crystal bowl. 

“Prepare to be amazed!” a male’s voice exclaimed, echoing throughout the reaches of the arena. His tone was extravagant, bolstering with confidence as he chanted loudly. Green smoke spiraled around his position, spreading throughout the arena while powerful gusts of wind blew through the vicinity. Lightning crackled throughout the smog, and thunder sent tremors coursing through the foundation of the building. The man raised his hands high over his head, cackling. “Mysterio is no illusionist playing parlor tricks! I am a man full of wonder and divinity!”



Peter blankly stared at nothing in particular, whispering, “Doc wasn’t kidding. I see where Trixie gets her self-absorbed tendencies from.” Trailing off, Peter’s cranium buzzed, and the world around him steadily came to a halt. He clutched at his throbbing temples, glancing at Trixie and the other spectators who were frozen in place from his perspective. “Why is my Spider Sense going off? Where is the danger?”

Eventually, the buzzing ceased, and time resumed. Trixie stole a glance at Peter from the corner of her eye, frowning. “What are you mumbling about?”

Peter forced all intrusive thoughts to the wayside as he huffed, reaching into Trixie’s bag of popcorn. After scarfing the item in his grasp down, the young man shook his head. “Nothing.”

The costumed man continued to cater to the audience, wowing them with his special effects, and Peter soon allowed himself to suspend his disbelief, cheering alongside Trixie. For the next hour, Mysterio went through a routine of spells. Before long, the show had ended much to the audience’s dismay, but there was promise of a grander show the following night. While the audience poured out of the main auditorium, Trixie stood from her seat and climbed onto the stage without prompt. A pair of guards hastily rushed towards the girl, ready to apprehend her, but Mysterio stepped forth, raising his hand defensively.

“At ease, gentlemen! That little lady is a VIP!” he loudly stated, removing the bowl from his head before dropping it into one of the guard’s open yet unprepared arms. Almost in a haste, the blue-skinned man removed the costume, handing it to the other security official before waving a hand dismissively. The guards shrugged, departing the vicinity. Donning a vibrant violet suit with a tie, the man grinned uncontrollably before wrapping his arms around Trixie’s body and pulling the girl into a warm embrace. “How is Daddy’s little Pumpkin?”

Slack-jawed, Peter traced a finger against his cheek awkwardly. “Pumpkin?”

Trixie’s eyes widened as the temperature in her face rose, evident by the pink tint filling her cheeks. “I’m a little old for Pumpkin, Daddy,” she declared, stammering involuntarily. The girl straightened her posture, brushing a hand through her silver-blue hair. Holding her hand to the side, Trixie stepped to the side and revealed a flummoxed Peter. “I’d like to introduce you to my friend from school. He’s the bumbling bumpkin I told you about. This is his first time seeing one of your shows.”

Jackpot arched a brow, holding a knowing smile. “Oh. Now, I see why you’re suddenly above being called Pumpkin. So, this is the boy you keep prattling on about.” He motioned his hand, prompting Peter to climb onto the stage as well. The pair shared a glance before Jackpot offered a friendly hand. However, just as Peter readied to accept the gesture, a black wand and golden top hat materialized into existence in the older man’s hands respectively in puffs of smoke. Jackpot with a smirk and raised brow, chuckled. “The first rule of the illusionary arts? Don’t watch the mouth. Watch the hands. Did you enjoy the Great and Powerful Mysterio’s showcase?” 


Tilting his head to the side, Peter dumbly chuckled and nodded. “That’s pretty cool. I’m actually blown away by how realistic the special effects were. Is it magic or technology?”

Trixie inhaled sharply, thrusting the point of her elbow into Peter’s side with enough force to cause the boy to recoil playfully. “Parker! Have you no shame?! You never ask a performer to reveal their secrets!”

Jackpot chuckled, his expression softening. “I appreciate the sentiment, Pumpkin, but do not be so rough. Your friend’s curiosity is endearing. It reminds me of an old cohort of mine.” He waved his hands, causing both objects in his grasp to vanish without a trace. “That is only a fraction of the Great and Powerful Mysterio’s might. Stick around long enough, and you might learn to turn your mind to the spiritual, as I have.”

“So, it’s a secret?” Peter blankly stated, pretending to rub his ribs.

Jackpot nodded, extending his free hand to the young man. “Indeed, but all kidding aside. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister…?”

Smiling, Peter accepted the gesture before both individuals shared a nod and smile. “Peter B. Parker.” Slow to respond, the young boy stared at both the older man and girl’s features intently, narrowing his gaze on their matching violet irises and silver-blue hairstyles. “Has anyone mentioned that you two could pass as twins?”

“I like this one. He is humorous and quite the original thinker,” Jackpot grinned, his thespian-tone never faltering as he glanced at his daughter.

Trixie shrugged, snorting. “Bumpkins does have the occasional bright thought.”

Bemused, Peter’s brow twitched. “Great. Now, I have twice the charm to put up with. Can this day get any better?” Suddenly, Peter’s expression stiffened while his cranium buzzed once more. He alternated his gaze, attempting to locate the source. “What’s happening?”

“Over there!” someone cried out, pointing towards one of the windows high above everyone’s position. A silhouette sat perched on the opening, their image basking in the shadows. That same moment, someone shone one of the studio lights in their direction, and Peter’s complexion paled upon recognizing the spider insignia at the center of their crimson costume. The audience member screamed. “It’s Spider-Man!”

Trixie furrowed her brow. “What’s he doing here?”

“I…” Peter questioned, his mind racing into a flurry before he recollected his thoughts, “have no idea.”

Just as everyone began to murmur amongst themselves, Spider-Man raised his hand. “Everyone, this is a robbery,” he darkly stated, hopping from his vantage point. He landed a few feet away from Jackpot, chuckling before grabbing the man by the collar. As the masked man lifted Trixie’s father from the ground, Peter could only watch with a bewildered gaze as the audience stared at what appeared to be his heroic alter-ego going rogue. Spider-Man tossed Jackpot off the stand and into several boxes of equipment, causing the wood to break in a heap under his weight. “I don’t think you all heard me. Your not-so-friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is robbing the place!”

The surreality of the situation struck Peter’s mind like lightning to a rod, all evident by his slack-jawed expression. “What?!” He soon shook the disbelief from his head before clutching at the straps of his backpack where his costume resided. "All right. I don't know why someone decided to cosplay, but it's time I shut this convention down."

Before any action could occur, Trixie's screams reached his ears and gave him pause. "Peter! What are you doing?!" she cried out, rushing to where her father was hurled. The young man glanced at the girl while she attempted to dig through the pile of shattered wood. "My dad needs help! Stop gawking and do something!"

Peter cursed under his breath, wincing as Spider-Man lifted a guard high overhead and tossed him into a pair of his cohorts. He quickly yielded, joining Trixie’s side. The pair rummaged through the broken equipment, eventually reaching the bottom of the pile, but they paused, sharing bewildered gazes upon finding nothing in place. Suddenly, a hand gently fell over Trixie’s shoulder, and the girl turned, inhaling sharply at the visual of her father. His suit remained undamaged as smoke began to rise from underneath his feet.

Jackpot smirked as his form vanished in the fog. “I’m sorry to make you worry. Never fear! Allow Mysterio to stave off this pest!” he exclaimed, his voice booming throughout the arena. Suddenly, his green and golden costume materialized onto his frame before the bowl shaped into place over his head. Brushing his cape to the side, Mysterio walked towards Spider-Man undeterred. “I heard you were a menace, but I didn’t think you were cowardly enough to attack the good people of Canterlot. How about you face the Great and Powerful Mysterio instead?”

Spider-Man’s masked eyes narrowed before he ran towards Mysterio with a fist raised. However, Mysterio reared back before throwing his hand forward, unleashing a wave of emerald flames. The projectile consumed Spider-Man, sending his form careening across the room until he smashed through the nearest window. The audience watched with glee, cheering as a few police officers stormed into the area. Mysterio lowered into a hunched position, pointing the local law enforcement towards the direction Spider-Man was launched. Meanwhile, as Trixie and the others swarmed Jackpot and congratulated him on his victory, Peter sat back with a grim expression. 

“I thought my nightmare was over. It’s just starting,” he grumbled, shaking his head.

To be continued…