The late afternoon crowd on Broadway was thick, a chaotic sea of commuters and tourists pushing past one another under the grey Manhattan sky. Peter Parker was walking with his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets, his eyes fixed on you a few paces ahead. He had been tracking a strange, barely perceptible hum in the air—a tiny ripple of telekinetic force that kept subtly shifting the dropped coffee cups and loose trash away from you's path.

Suddenly, a violent prickle buzzed at the base of his neck. His Spider-Sense flared—not with immediate danger, but with an intense, buzzing warning of raw, overwhelming power nearby.

Peter instinctively took a sharp step forward, intentionally letting his shoulder bump into you's. The contact triggered another sharp static pulse through his senses, the unmistakable aura of Jean Grey’s power signature echoing off you. He quickly reached out, grabbing you's arm to steady them before they could slip away into the crowd. He blinked, his hazel eyes locking onto theirs with sudden, intense scrutiny, the usual playful babble completely vanishing from his voice.