CAUTION: somewhat graphic depictions of violence and mentions thereof.
265. Achilles
Figures that literally the night after Spider-Man is listed as dead, there’s a call over the radio.
—“seems to be a child dressed as Spider-Man dragging a homeless corpse”—
Which...um.
A day after, a call from Alchemax, which he hears from the station before he gets the note that Miles hasn’t been attending school.
—“adult and child dressed as Spider-Man stole top-secret documents and knocked out most of the staff”—
Which...um?
So today, when Jeff gets the call—
—“We have a disturbance involving multiple Spider-...people?”—
—he’s definitely going to see what’s happening, if only to clear out his head. Call it a weakness.
...and he sees a child in an alleyway, dressed as Spider-Man, with what looks like a homeless corpse.
“HANDS UP!”
And the child disappears.
And Aaron—
...Aaron is dead. He was being carried around by a kid dressed as Spider-Man.
...a kid, dressed as Spider-Man—no. The adult. He wasn’t going to charge the kid yet—but the adult dressed as Spider-Man killed his brother while he was wearing his stupid costume (he thought he’d stopped, he thought he couldn't have gone that far, he never would have let Miles near him if he’d known) and they’ve been dragging his brother’s body around New York for three days.
(Part of Jeff knows this can’t be true—Aaron looks freshly dead. Part of him is wondering, in a detached way, when was the last time he actually talked to Aaron, without a fight. Part of him is thinking, How the hell am I going to tell Miles?
But most of him is in silent rage and grief.)
“All units. I want an APB on a new Spider-Man.”
He needs to get the kid to safety. (Imagine if it was Miles.) He needs to bring the imposter to justice. (Don't think about Aaron.)
But first—he needs to find his son.
266. Encouragement
“You’re being an idiot,” says Miles, bluntly.
“Miles, let me handle this,” says Porker. “Noir, you’re a [bleep] idiot.”
“Thanks, fellas,” mutters Peter, who (despite Prohibition being over for three years now) is trying to drown his sorrows in egg creams.
“You get engaged all of six months ago after freaking out because Cindy told you she liked you. I don't even want to know what happened at that Boxing Day party.”
“It’s the [bleep] pheromones,” he protests. “They interact with each other—”
“Except they don’t,” Miles points out. “Maybe there’s some kind of link there, but it’s not that kind. You know that, and she knows that, and because she knows that Gwen knows that, and because Gwen knows I know. And somehow he knows.”
“Buddy, I am a spider. Was. My nose is good at this stuff. And those weren’t spider pheromones I saw coming off you.”
“Couldn’t be sure,” Peter insists.
"Could be. You talked to that Spider-God of yours about it yet?"
"Not the point. Besides, it’s not that simple, Miles. You and Gwen were velveting around each other pretty much from the tossed rabbit. No uncertainty there, you’re still friends first, even with that on-and-off thing you got. We barely knew each other.”
“You’ve been hanging out in her universe for the past three years,” Porker points out. “Well. Two years.”
"MJ isn't a runner-up," Peter protests.
"Nobody said she was."
“And then three months ago you start avoiding everyone. Even Peni.”
“Peni’s got problems of her own that she doesn’t need me interfering with—”
“And then, four days ago, you break it off because it’s not safe for your MJ. Which we find out through your Aunt May, who is actually terrifying and thinks we’re to blame. Again, dude.”
Peter sighs. "Yeah, she can be a bit...intense. But it’s not that simple—"
"It is, though," Porker interrupts. "What is it that you want to do?"
"It doesn't matter what I want to do."
Miles and Ham look…scared. His friends are scared of him.
Rule One of being the Spider-Man: don't use the Red in vain. (And there is…so much Red these days. It fills every room he's in, in his world.)
"I'm sorry," he says quietly, holding up his hands. "I'm sorry, fellas."
"Peter—" and that's a rarity, normally Miles calls him Noir, even if the voice is a little unsteady— "why doesn't it matter?"
"Because it's not fair on them. Any of them. Marie…she doesn't deserve that kind of a life, married to a detective who's barely able to provide, hunted by the remnants of the Goblin's gang. And Cindy? She's already living in a better future. I mean, fine, no egg creams and more gizmos, but it's so bright. Can't put gloom on that, she doesn't deserve it. And Peni…Peni's my best friend, but she's like…like an elf."
Miles and Porker blink.
"Um…"
"You know, from those books by Mr. Tolkien? She's gonna live forever and she's gonna have to watch us all dig to China, and let's face it, I'm the one who's gonna go first."
"Hey now—"
"Don't say that—"
"I am, though. And I don't want her to see me die. Miles, she hasn’t had that yet. You saw what happened to your Peter Parker. I saw my Uncle Benjamin’s body. Porker, I know what you had to see. And I’m so sorry."
Porker nods, solemnly.
“But she doesn’t need that. None of you do.” Peter knows he’s tearing up. “You’re all so colourful…”
Silence.
(Because in this world of black and white and innumerable shades of grey…)
“Peter,” says Miles. “Forget what you want. What do you need?”
A sigh.
“...I need to be able to hold people and not worry that they’re going to crumble. That I’m not going to crush them.”
Porker grins. “You’re pretty lucky, then. You’ve got an Aunt who could scare Pork Grind into doing community service and the most indestructible family in the multiverse. If anyone’s doing the crushing around here, it’s that new Venom guy, that guy is huge and really, really crazy.”
“...you think they’ll forgive me?”
“Peter, all of us have had some kind of bad reaction to relationships, and your life is just a little more screwed-up than average. And they know that. But you gotta go for it, man. Make it count.”
He talked it over with MJ. He actually did. They parted on good terms. They're still friends, he thinks, and that makes it worse. But…he shouldn't have left his best friend behind. And he shouldn't have run.
Peni first. Then he'll talk to the Spider-God and find out about what's happening with those dang pheromones or whatever. And then…maybe there's time to be friends again, if she’s willing. But first things first.
“So whaddya say?” says Miles, teasingly. “Can you stop closing off your feelings so you can get to grips with the actions needed to fix your moral ambiguity?”
“...how long have you been waiting to say that?”
“About five years.”
“Touché, kid.”
“Come on, Spider-Man. Time to get back up.”
267. Release
Doctor Octavius is dying.
Miles is torn.
Her condition has gotten steadily worse and worse, to the point that she can’t even bike into work anymore. He has to visit her at her house in Orangetown, biking distance from her workplace at Alchemax. It’s not a particularly big home, but it’s isolated. And there’s a huge workshop.
“Just keeping fit!” she tells him as he comes by to find her on an exercise bike indoors. (Man, he should not have swung, it was a beautiful day for it but his arms are killing him.) “Part of the effects seem to be counteracted by the maintenance of a healthy body—”
“Doctor Octavius?” asks Miles, quietly. “I’m sorry to ask this, but...you never said what actually happened.”
(He knows. He wants to know how much his second-best teacher and second-worst enemy wants to keep a secret, to better understand what to do.)
Olivia falters. She gets off the bike.
“Can I get you some juice?”
“Yes please.”
She puts a couple of glasses on the table and takes out a jug.
She sighs.
“We’ve been doing a lot of research work together, Mr. Morales,” she says. “For over two years now.” She smiles. “You’ve done pretty well, for someone who got into the field so quickly.”
“I learn fast,” says Miles with an easy shrug.
“Hah. That you do. The thing is...the thing is that I feel like I can trust you, Miles. So I want to tell you the truth. But you can’t freak out, okay?”
“Doctor Octavius, I have been freaking out ever since you invited me to your lab,” says Miles honestly. She laughs. “But that shouldn’t stop me from doing what I can.”
She looks so proud. (And he doesn’t deserve it.
“Miles, it’s up to you,” Miguel said. “But unless you can find a way to let your Doc Ock knock herself unconscious so Roshni and I can run diagnostics—no, Peni’s not here right now, got her own problems—there’s nothing we can do.”)
“Well said, Miles. Well said.”
She takes out a small device. It looks alarmingly like a goober.
“There’s a couple of things on here that I’d prefer to keep to myself,” she says. When it—” glitch— “daaah—when it goes wrong. You know, system failure, all kaput, pfaw!” She snorts. “Oh, man, this is something to see.”
“Doc, you’re...you’re really dying?”
Not again. She’s tried to kill him slightly more than she’s actually been a pretty good teacher. But not again.
“Ah, probably,” she says, waving it off. “But hey, you know the biometric data I’ve been able to collect? Sure, it gets really paaaaaaai—” glitch— “...painful, but the science is amazing. Remember that, Miles. Who you are? That body of yours, even how you think? That fades away, even as you grow up. But what you do...what you add to this world...that stays around for much, much longer. And that’s what I’ve got to tell you—”
“Pretty sure you should get to bed, Doc,” says Miles firmly, offering her a hand up. “The glitching gets better when you rest a bit.”
She sighs. “Fine. Guess I did exercise a bit too much yesterday.”
(He knows. She was trying to break into Stark Industries. He barely needed to throw a punch, it was actually kind of sad.)
“You’ll be okay,” says Miles. “You will be. Okay?”
She smiles, a little sadly, finishes her juice, and takes the offered hand.
“You’re not gonna quit, are you.”
“Not while you’re still breathing.”
“You sound like Spider-Man.”
Play it off, play it off!
He snorts. “Really?”
“Nah, not the new kid, the—” glitch, and he’s holding her and it feels like her skin is being electrified but not by him— “old one. Peter Parker. He had this...this weird thing about wanting to see the best in people. Even when he was knocking them out.”
He doesn’t comment that he’s not sure how Doctor Olivia Octavius could have met Spider-Man, as opposed to Doc Ock. That would be suspicious.
He gets her up to her room, but then she stops and turns.
“Listen, Miles,” she says. “There’s stuff on that key that is essential to what I want to do. Records of all my work. All of it. Including what I wanted to tell you.”
“Are you sure?” Back out now, Doc. One last chance.
“I’m sure,” she says. “There’s a lot of other junk on that thing, but the main stuff? The main stuff...Miles, I have seen worlds that you could never imagine. I have held the power of the multiverse in the power of my hand. And—” glitch, but she powers through— “and I want...I want that to keep going. And I want you to do it." She grins. "You've got the brains for it, kid. It's just a matter of whether you've got the guts."
She looks so frail, now. Not as old as Aunt May, but maybe weaker. Without the arms, he doubts she’d be able to get around too well in her other life.
"…what's gonna happen to you?"
She ignores the question. "Look in the file marked h24123K#&35."
When Miles does, at home that evening, he freezes.
Doctor Octavius wants him to keep exploring the multiverse on her behalf, not knowing that he has already on his own.
Doc Ock, on the other hand, wants to take down Kingpin—the loose end that could stop that exploration. And a concerned citizen being given the plans after the fact? Plans that Miles could copy to make his own tech—even with the notes on her work? Plans that inculpate Wilson Fisk and Olivia Octavius for opening a dimensional portal under Brooklyn—which wouldn't matter to Olivia Octavius, not if she's dead.
(A small file, buried among the others, with video footage from the Collider. Footage that shows Miles with Mr. Parker. Footage that shows Kingpin—well. But one file.)
Miles finally has the evidence to put the Kingpin behind bars for good. And he can't use it without incriminating her.
Fine. Good. Doc Ock should be brought to justice, not just bailed out every so often by various benefactors all linked to Fisk. But…Olivia Octavius is dying.
And Miles could save her. Or try. Peni and Miguel could do something even if none of the others, all geniuses, could.
But it would mean exposing all of his friends—all of New York City in two dozen dimensions, and a few other places besides—to the wrath of Olivia Octavius.
And Miles could turn her in before or after, use the incriminating data and get her behind bars…where she would fall to pieces and crumble to dust.
He needs to think.
268. Lycanthrope
whatwasthisonesnameagain
Morlun isn’t fast, but he is brutal. Very brutal. Even when he doesn’t use his spider form, and sticks to the more humanoid (but still quite tall if gaunt) figure. And he has a fascination with projectile weapons, firing off rounds of compacted Thread to wrap around his victims.
Useful, right about now.
ithinkitwasAaaaaarghraaaaghoo
orsomething
Jennix always has so much fun on their hunts. Right now, she’s taking swipes from the werewolf-like thing not as her giant self, but as her little self. All black and white, with a little mop of hair and an easy smile. It makes her look less threatening, to catch their prey off guard. He can relate.
(Some part of him remembers being...crippled, in that respect. Unable to relate to real people properly. Lost. But not with her. With her, he can laugh, and hold her close, and she just holds him closer. His little sister is his best friend.)
hehheh
Aaaaaarghraaaaghoo
yep
helookslikeanAaaaaarghraaaaghoo
Down goes the Wolf-Spider.
canihavethisone
pleasepleaseplease
youcanhavethetally
Morlun chuckles, and steps aside.
ohfine
howdoeshetaste
Jennix blasts the creature with her lightning. He—barely a he, more of an it to Morlun’s mind—screams.
wowthisguyisangry
manyoushouldtasteit
itslikefourteendifferentflavoursinone
Morlun grins.
savesomeformethen
betterthanthathumanspider
Jennix laughs.
muchbetter
ughthatguytastedterrible
likerepressionandhunger
whywouldiwanttofeedonhunger
They’re back to their smaller forms now, Jennix short enough to ride on her brother’s shoulders.
beatsmekid
They leave the dim world behind, full and content, ignorant of the mournful howls that have arisen across the world.
269. Session
Scorpion—Marco—has made a game of it, the last few times they meet. He doesn’t know what the man does during the rest of the week, but on Saturday afternoons at around two o’clock (when he’s not in jail) he always appears somewhere in Brooklyn, doing something that he really needn’t bother with but that isn’t actually life-threatening. And when Miles goes to stop him, he puts up a fight, sure, but then when he’s down for the count he makes a point of asking Miles about his week.
It’s...bizarre.
But Marco was a therapist, once. (And a drug dealer, and a professional wrestler, and a mafia enforcer.) Perhaps the way to get him to finally stop is to focus on what he can do without the legs. (And the giant claw. And the psychosis—"Yes, I know I have it and I can diagnose it, I'm still technically qualified to practice in Oaxaca you know".)
“I mean...I don’t want her to die,” says Miles in Spanish. “But I don’t know how to fix it without making everything worse. And it might not even fix it.”
“Hmm.” Scorpion nods, hogtied on a rooftop. “I mean, I get it, you’re Arañito. You don’t start doing this sort of thing without a reason. Nobody ever does. And that means you probably lost someone before this, yes?”
"…I don't really want to talk about it." He's not ready to talk about Uncle Aaron, or the first Spider-Man. He's especially not prepared to discuss Uncle Aaron or the first Spider-Man with a murderous cyborg, rehabilitation efforts or no.
The villain nods. "That's reasonable. But anyway. You don't want your mentor to die. That's understandable. That's an Arañito thing, not just a 'Spider-Man' thing. It does you credit. And hey, you do keep trying to lock me up but you're also talking to me, which is…kind of a first. So here's what I want to know, muchacho: how badly would it break things if got her help?"
"It could potentially destroy the multiverse."
"That's bad. And what happens if she dies?"
"I can't let her die." And somehow there's truth in that. Complete truth. Doc Ock watches people die. Spider-Man doesn't.
"Say, didn't you end up saving the multiverse at some point? You and that robot and and the cartoon and that detective with the stupid hat and a couple of others."
"You nearly killed my friend, by the way."
Scorpion shrugs again. "It happens, muchacho. Point being, if you can save your mentor, maybe you ought to, right? Deal with the consequences as they come, in that order."
"Did I mention she's likely to try to kill me?"
"…hang on a moment, your mentor's not another villain, is she? It's not that damned Hardy, is it?"
"What? Noooooooo. Not a villain. Don't know where you'd get that idea—"
He didn't even know the Scorpion could give deadpan looks.
“Regardless of who she is...okay, I kind of don’t want to talk to the others about it. It’s my problem, not theirs.”
“Argh, and here I thought you were doing well. Look, muchacho, those other arañitas? I’ve seen you fight together. I’ve been on the receiving end of you guys fighting together. You should talk to them. I think you’ll be surprised.”
Miles nods, even smiles behind the mask. “...yeah. Maybe. Thanks, Marco.”
“Mention it to anyone and I will use your leg-bones as toothpicks.”
“Oh, yeah. You’re under citizen’s arrest for attempted robbery. Dude, it’s the same store. You’re a henchman. What’s up with that?”
“Guess I’m just a glutton for punishment. It’s surprisingly common in this town.”
270. Attempt
A child. Or the outline of a child. Shooting lightning from its fingers. And then, when the lightning fails to hit, laughing with the sweetness of cyanide, she transforms into some kind of giant. And tries to land a punch.
Which he deflects easily.
“Wrong move, little girl,” taunts Otto. "Maybe you ought to go back to class to have a little nappy-nap."
The black-and-white giant laughs. It’s not a nice laugh.
hmhmhmhm
yourerude
mostshadowsarentrude
itsinteresting
dinnerandashow
She doesn't speak. But he remembers her speaking.
Something new.
Hmm.
Otto, up on the walls, narrowly avoids another bolt of lightning. He curses under his breath, and fumbles with the device he’s kept in his utility belt for ages now.
whatstheboxlittleshadow
He doesn’t speak, just takes a picture.
oohacamera
alotofshadowslikecameras
The giant leaps, and lands in front of him.
whenweredonehereithinkimightkeepit
“Sorry, brat, this is a Parker Industries patent. I’d hate to lose it.”
oohbrat
youreboring
youneedbetterquips
“So I’ve been told,” mutters Otto, fiddling with a different device now.
andwhatsthat
“Something crazy.”
The giant moves fast, and clamps Otto in its claws. Hard.
idontlikecrazy
atleastnotunlessicanstudyit
Right. New tactic.
“Study this!”
Web bombs, fresh from the Goblin’s arsenal—with a few minor improvements.
The claw is blown to pieces.
aaaaargh
—something like “Pop Quiz!” might have been better. You know, if he really wanted to go down the "I make quips while blowing up hands" route. Shut up, Parker’s Brain.
There’s only so much time. Otto hasn’t applied this method before—a few quick jumps, yes, and scans of materials from other worlds, yes, but in combination?
Still. The giant seems to be tracking him specifically, and he should probably get out of here—
He dodges the other arm. The giant isn’t smiling now, it’s snarling.
—he can’t just leave now. There’s all these people around. He has to incapacitate the giant in some other way first. Shut up, Parker’s brain!
Wait. The hands. That’s how it’s shooting lightning. If he can blow up the hands—
Another flash of lightning. Another web bomb.
yaaaagh
thathurt
youllpayforthatyoulittleappetizer
—really? Cliché, much? ...you get that one, Parker’s brain.
He kicks. Hard.
The giant flies back, and he goes after it to finish off the remains—but it’s barely dented. He put all his strength into that punch, and it made the giant fly through three brick walls but it’s barely dented.
It’s as strong as he is.
grrrrrrr
“Ooh, very convincing.”
Time for the kill.
—no, he shouldn’t do that—shut up, Parker’s brain!
Match located. Transport engaged.
”Son of a—”
And Otto is sucked into the multiverse.
271. Tracker
Karn has been careful. He’s been watching his One, passing from world to world. He’s watched his One’s companions, noted similarities and differences. He’s watched the portals link universes, and briefly stepped inside to feel it.
Karn is a fortunate one. For whatever reason, he doesn’t need to eat shadows that resemble his family anymore. A diet of shadows that resemble spiders is enough for him. And there are always plenty, around Alchemax or Oscorp or even Stark Industries. There is no joy he takes from those hunts. But he will not be a cannibal again.
(Except that he is a spider now. So he is a cannibal.
He wonders how loudly they will scream in his head.)
And he knows the right time to go—the only time to go—is when Morlun and Jennix travel to the world where he met the Spider-God. He sees their footsteps on the Web, and knows it’s time.
To the world where it all began, then.
Solus’ One World.
272. Realization
“Peni,” says Miguel, ashen-faced. “We’ve got a problem.”
Not kid. Not mite. Not La Molestia (she nearly kicked him for that one). Just her name.
“Miguel?”
“It’s Peter Pauker. You know, from Earth-4314? He’s...his gizmo went haywire, and I tracked it down. It’s...Peni, he’s...”
Miguel O’Hara is never at a loss for words.
“Miguel, it’s okay. I’m a banjin too now. I can handle it. ...spit it out.”
He chuckles at the use of the term she used so often as an insult over the past few years, and probably at her bluntness too. Then he sighs.
It comes out in a rush.
“He was ripped to pieces and burnt. Scattered across Staten Island. And not by any of his villains. By something from the multiverse.”
...oh no.
Gray came to her a few weeks ago, talking about a new universe he and Peter B had found. Where a Spider called Kaine Parker had been killed—by something from Gray’s universe. The best hypothesis they had was that one of his villains managed to rework the Collider, possibly using Atlantean or Wakandan technology. (So unfair—)
But this...
She looks at her friend, and realizes he’s thinking the same thing. They’ll mourn him later. For now—
“Th-there should be a video log on his gizmo,” says Peni, voice barely quavering. “Lyla, can you bring it up?”
—sure thing, Peni—
The hologram’s usual good mood is subdued somewhat.
—would you like me to start at the gruesome bit or just before?—
“No point if we don’t know what he’s up against, right?” Miguel replies, sardonically. “We’re not sadists, Lyla.”
—just masochists, apparently—
But she pulls up the holographic footage.
There’s Peter—Pauker—standing on the rooftops of old New York. Facing down three monsters that look like they’ve come from a hole in the sky. Even through the footage, something seems...off about them. Like they’re moving too quickly. Reshaping themselves out of thin air instead of actually moving.
They're speaking. Well, sort of. There’s no audio record. But somehow she knows. And—
“Wait. I know that voice.”
...it can’t be.
...no. No, it can’t be. So it must be a different one.
But still.
“I need to find Gray.”
But the video goes on. Shows the fight, Cob armed only with a pistol and a sword and webs from his wrists but giving it his all, the white one jumping and twirling like a dancer in the air, the giant shooting electricity from its fingers, spider limbs hacked off, the black-and-white giant screaming in anger, the white one holding Pauker up and daring him to strike, Pauker hesitating (that can’t be her voice, it can’t), the black spider finally making a move and snatching him from behind, the spider turning into something like a man (but it can’t be him, it can’t), the man pressing and Cob screaming and the sound of flesh ripped from flesh and bone shattering into pieces and the brand-new memory of alien laughter slamming itself against her mind—
And she can’t look away.
She is nineteen years old and she can’t look away.
Until Miguel takes the remote control from her hand and shuts it off.
“Peni. Are you okay?”
She nods. Just.
“You wanna sit down?”
She blinks.
And then she gets angry.
“Miguel, we gotta move fast. If they’ve found Pauker’s universe then we need to make sure every Spider in the cluster is on high alert.”
Miguel nods. “Already alerted Peter B. and Mayday’s Dad, they were online. I’ll get them to help monitor the gizmos. I don’t think we can travel yet, though.”
“What? Why?”
Miguel points to the portal, still flickering as an afterimage. (No, their holograms do not need an upgrade, thank you Roshni.) “That. Peni, they’re Web-travellers. Web...Warriors?”
Call an enemy by its name.
“No. Inheritors. They said—” don’t crack, don’t crack— “they said they would take the One Worlds, whatever the hell those are. They would be the Inheritors of its essence. That’s their name. Got to be.”
“Whatever they are.”
Peni’s sent a message to Gray.
July 19, 2023
19:33
14512
Spark: I need to talk to you. In person
“We can’t risk it. If they’re on the Web, they could see everything. They could have seen everything we’ve done. Everywhere we’ve been.”
The monitors start bleeping. Dozens of holograms of confused, worried Spiders start to pour in.
“What’s going on?—”
“Emergency signal?—”
“Right in the middle of the one time I’m actually having a bath—”
She puts her hand on Miguel’s arm, and they pass a general message: stay at home. If something, anything, happens that’s out of the ordinary, get on the emergency line. Don’t face them. Run. Peni’s world is the safest, they have the most expertise battling monsters, no Peredur this is not up to debate.
The Spiders have two default reactions to their loved ones being in danger. Some, like Gray and Gwen, prefer to keep at arms’ length but watch the danger like a hawk until it subsides. Others, like Peni and Miles, prefer to keep them close, in constant contact if not physically there, and come what may when it comes to danger.
Neither method is perfect.
273. Collapse
No. No.
...yes.
Peter Pauker is dead.
Miles barely knew him, if he’s being honest with himself. He was fun, sure. One time Peter took him and Gwen on a tour around town, meeting people who were just historical figures to them. They treated him to a showing of Alexander on Broadway. (One of the few shows his world and Gwen’s shared. He didn’t quite get the obvious symbolism behind Alexander Hamilton being played by a Maori actor and in fact did a spit-take at the first line in the show, but it was an interesting experience all around.) Leaping more than swinging, which Miles can—could relate to.
And now he’s dead.
He has an Aunt Maia. Did anyone let her know? Or Gwyneth Stacy? Would anyone turn out for the Cob’s funeral? Would anyone care?
They would. They’d stop this danger, these...Inheritors, and they’d win. And they’d go together. That’s the right way.
(Doctor Octavius will likely be dead by then. He has to tell Peter. He can help. He wants to tell his parents, to finally tell his parents. He was going to. Then...these.)
It is Miles’ great misfortune to be present when a black portal opens on the roof behind him and a giant spider drops out and lands with a thud.
And hisses.
“Guys, it’s here!” shouts Miles. But he’s turned the communicator off. Frantically he presses the start button, presses the emergency key, and shouts again:
“THEY’RE HERE!”
274. Prodigal
imhere
Jennix and Morlun have only been here for a few moments, in this world where Karn last was seen, but he’s already sparking.
areyouokay
The wind whips around them. The black sky is dotted with stars, the Brooklyn Bridge shining in the moonlight. It’s an old world, this one—or maybe it’s a young world. Still.
Morlun breathes the air, and feels stronger than he ever has before. His mask, always featureless, somehow looks more relaxed than she’s ever seen it look.
imhomeJennix
imfinallyhome
For the first time in a long time, he shows his face.
He can feel the smile.
andnowiknowwheretofindmyOne
Jennix beams.
thatsfantastic
illcomewithyou
But Morlun puts a hand on her shoulder.
notsosureaboutthatkid
ithinkitsgottabemeformyOne
itsgottabespecial
She nods.
iunderstand
sohowaboutijuststayonguardhere
yougowhereyouneedto
illbeherewaiting
He smiles.
seeyousoonJennix
loveyousis
She smiles too.
loveyoutoobigbrother
nowshoo
scat
gofindarat
He laughs.
hah
thatiwill
maybeevenaspiderrat
And with her laugh ringing in his ears, Morlun steps into a new portal.
Somewhere…somewhere more colourful.
275. Unexpected
You want to start this thing again? What is with you people?
Fine.
My name is Otto Octavius, alias Peter Parker. I transplanted myself into a radioactive human, and for two years I have been the (naturally) Superior Spider-Man.
And I did not appreciate being dumped on the floor of a rather large laboratory by a rogue portal. Nor did I have any reason to expect to be jumped by some luchador knockoff of Spider-Man with anger management issues. I came here by accident, after all, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do my part.
And...my, my. Those three Spiders weren’t alone. Dozens of them. From all across the multiverse.
Made my own team of merry web-slingers look like a folk band against an orchestra.
Still—they obviously went for quantity. I prefer quality.
Unfortunately, the wrestler took umbrage at my expressing that.
Cue a very uncomfortable few minutes and a lot of bleeping noises. (“How the [bleep] does that thing work over long-distance, Porquito?”)
Then came that distress call from one of the other Spiders. Just like from Aaron Aikman’s world. (Thank heavens I got there in time.)
“Listen to me,” I hissed. “Those things...they hunt us. They’re looking for us. Spiders. Tell me you’ve got some kind of backup plan for this? Nuclear missiles, decomposition nanobots, anything like that?”
“What kind of Spider has that kind of weapons?” the (apparently) other Spider snapped. “Bar a couple of nutcases, we all travel light! As in, no weapons of mass destruction!”
(“Heyyyy!” “Not now, Hobie.”)
“Your loss not to foresee this.” I cracked my knuckles. “Fortunately for you, you’ve got me now.”
“Wow, Peter, this is the first time you’ve turned out to be this much of a [bleep].”
Peter—the other Peter—was watching me suspiciously. Realization (finally) dawned.
“That’s because he’s not me,” he growled. “That’s Doc Ock, as me. And he’s wasting our time. We’ve gotta help Miles.”
“You can’t move, you idiot! Not yet! They monitor your activity!”
“I do not have to take lip from a dybbuk!”
“Yes! Fine! And if you fancy dragging my corpse up here to do a mind-transfer, then sure, we’ll do that. But for now, let’s focus on finding a way to rescue your friend. Right?”
“Right. So let’s go.”
“Where the [bleep] has Peni gone?”
276. Reconcile
It's their favourite spot—an office complex just two blocks from the Mercurial Embassy. It gets the best views of the boroughs beyond Manhattan, where they both live, countless worlds and a thousand years apart.
“...I’ve got something to tell you.”
“...me too.”
“You wanna go first?”
“You first.” It can wait. It shouldn’t wait. It will. (She needs that. He came. As soon as she called, he came. Why didn’t she call sooner?)
“...I was an idiot. I ran away from what I thought was a problem because I was afraid of messing everything up. I should have come to talk to someone about it, but I didn’t. And I am so, so sorry that I left you out of the loop, and pushed you away. You didn’t deserve that. And if I can, I want to make it up to you. However I can. ...I missed you, kid. You and everyone. But especially you.”
“...”
“...yeah, I know. Maybe not the best time—”
“No, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Peni manages a smile. (It’s always so easy around Gray.) “...hakuchi.”
“...yeah, I deserved that.”
“Three months is nothing for me, but it’s everything for you. Don’t waste that again. Please.”
“I promise, hu—Pe—”
“You’re gonna use that term of endearment or I am gonna kick you.”
Gray snorts. “Pretty violent there, hun.”
Peni winks. “Hey, I’m a Spider and I punch giant monsters for a living. It’s part of the job.”
Gray holds out his arms for a hug. “C’mere.”
Spiders don’t have a psychic link between one another per se, but the Red that surrounds Gray more and more these days is warm and comfortable. Like a holographic fireplace. And she’s finally, finally tall enough to reach his chest without standing on tiptoes.
Peni sinks into the hug and the Red and feels safe again, just for a moment.
Then she pulls back.
“Gray?”
“Yeah, hun?”
She takes a deep breath.
“We’re being invaded by eldritch abominations who stole your voice and—and who tore Peter Pauker to shreds.”
Now Gray freezes.
“Just like Kaine Parker, only...only more brutal. Much more. They’re targeting Spiders. And they’re on their way. We’ve got to warn the others. Miguel and I sent out the emergency signal, but I had to make sure you were okay—”
“Did you...did you see it?”
Peni nods.
“Oh, kid...”
Gray looks broken again. About as broken as she feels.
She’s trembling.
“I couldn’t—I couldn’t stop looking—”
“Peni.” His voice is so soft. “What do you need? Right now. What do you need?”
“I know it’s selfish,” she whispers. “I’ve been trying to get everyone together to talk about what to do, how to catch them. But I just...I just need a moment. One moment. One moment to be scared. Please.”
Gray doesn’t need to be told twice. He holds her again. SP//dr joins in.
Five minutes she cries, and it feels like an eternity and a microsecond in one.
Because she's scared. What they did…what they did to Peter Pauker, who just wanted to make his new friends laugh and could jump better than any of them and was twenty-two—
Too young.
Too much.
But in five minutes she’ll dry her eyes and she'll be back to business, even if Gray won't let go of her hand and she won’t let go of his and Takara’s presence glowing like a lantern at the back of her mind warms her. Maybe there’s a way out. They have surprise on their side.
And in seven minutes, a giant monster in the shape of a black spider will drop out of the sky, and sniff the air, and roar in triumph.
And begin the chase.
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