Malrick stepped out of the swirling rift and found himself standing on the rooftop of a dimly lit cityscape. The first thing he noticed was a figure crouched at the edge of the building, clad in a red-and-blue suit that seemed to glow faintly in the poor lighting.
It was unmistakable.
"Spider-Man," Malrick murmured, his sharp eyes narrowing.
The young man in the suit was hunched forward, muttering to himself.
"Alright then, let's go over it," the masked figure said. "I'm Peter Parker, bitten by a radioactive spider, became Spider-Man. Not long ago, thanks to me messing up, Doctor Strange's spell went wrong and pulled villains from other Universes into my world. With the help of two other Spider-Men, I cured them and sent them back."
He paused, his tone dipping.
"But I lost Aunt May in the process. Everyone forgot who I am. MJ doesn't remember me. It's like I don't exist. Still… no matter how bad things get, I'll stand back up. Aunt May always said that helping one person is the same as helping a hundred. So, I made a new suit, went out to protect my neighborhood again… and suddenly, a black hole sucked me here!"
He sighed. "Oh man, I bet there's another Peter Parker out there who also messed up Strange's spell. But this city doesn't feel right at all…"
Malrick raised an eyebrow. This kid could monologue for hours.
He stepped forward and called out, "Peter Parker?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" The masked hero flipped backward in shock, landing on the opposite side of the rooftop. His mask lenses widened like startled eyes. "When did you sneak up on me? Wait—you called me Peter. Oh no, I must've said my name out loud. Great. Classic Parker move."
Malrick studied him calmly. Even Tony Stark at his most talkative wasn't this much.
"I know who you are," Malrick said evenly. He raised his hand and summoned a glowing golden sigil of the Rings of Raggadorr. "And I also know you caused trouble not long ago."
Spider-Man froze at the sight of the mystic symbol. His hand went to his mask, pulling it off to reveal a young, boyish face—wide-eyed, vulnerable, and unmistakably Holland's Peter Parker.
"You're… a sorcerer from Kamar-Taj," Peter said, still catching his breath. "But… how do you even remember me?"
Malrick studied him closely. This really is Holland's Peter Parker. Possibly the one from the MCU's main timeline.
"Maybe because I'm not from your Universe," Malrick said. "Mine exists right next to yours. And yes, we also have a Peter Parker."
Peter blinked, then managed a small smile. "Another me? Let me guess, he's still in high school? If you see him… tell him not to let Doctor Strange do memory spells so casually. Oh, uh—do you guys have Thanos too? Big purple guy?"
"Focus, kid," Malrick cut him off, shaking his head. "Right now, what matters is this Universe and why we're here."
He walked to the rooftop's edge and looked over the city. It was New York—or at least a version of it. They were in Hell's Kitchen, but the skyline felt off.
The city was cloaked in pitch-black darkness, the towering buildings casting jagged silhouettes against the night. No streetlights glowed, no neon signs buzzed. For a moment, it looked like an abandoned ghost town.
But then, slowly, faint colored lights began flickering back to life from the edges of the city, crawling toward the center like veins of fire.
Peter tilted his head. "Uh, you look pretty young too, you know. Why are you calling me kid? Anyway, since you already know me, I should introduce myself properly. I'm Peter Parker."
"Malrick," he replied curtly.
Activating his heightened senses, Malrick extended his perception across the city. Super-hearing picked up faint rumblings of machinery, while his sight cut through layers of darkness. Fragments of voices and words filled his mind.
Kingpin. Collider. Spider-Man.
His expression hardened.
So this is Sony's Spider-Verse… no wonder the Space Stone doesn't respond here. I know this story.
He turned slightly to Peter. "Kingpin in this world built a collider to bring back his family. Spider-Man stopped it, but the machine pulled in other versions of him from different realities. That's what's happening now. Your being here is probably because Wanda's Chaos Magic weakened the barrier between Universes."
Peter's eyes widened. "Wait… you know what's happening here?"
"That's right." Malrick flicked his wrist, conjuring a portal that swirled with golden sparks. "Let's go. We'll find who we need to, then get back to our own Universe."
The ruins of a massive laboratory sprawled before them. Collapsed steel beams and shattered walls littered the ground, the air thick with dust and smoke.
On the rubble lay another Spider-Man. His suit was torn, his body battered, blood staining the cracks in his costume.
Standing over him was Wilson Fisk—Kingpin—towering in his black suit like a mountain of muscle and rage.
Spider-Man coughed weakly, but still managed a grin. "Hey, Kingpin. Long time no see. How's business?"
"Better without you," Kingpin growled, stepping forward. With a single motion, he tore the mask off, revealing a blond young man beneath.
"Oh, that's awkward," Spider-Man muttered hoarsely. "Guess the secret's out. But Fisk, listen—this collider of yours will destroy Brooklyn. I've seen it. Even if you pull versions of your family from other worlds, they're gone in those realities too. You can't bring them back this way."
For the briefest moment, Kingpin hesitated. His face twitched, his breathing slowed, but the denial came quickly.
"Impossible."
His massive fists clenched.
And without warning, he raised both arms high and brought them crashing down toward Spider-Man, the sheer force of his strike shaking the ground.
The injured hero didn't even have the strength to dodge.
This was execution.