A few hours later, they all gathered in front of the silent particle collider one last time.
The successful, blond Peter stood at the controls, giving Ben a thumbs-up from across the chamber. The machine was stable, ready to send them home. During the intervening hours, the various Peters and Parkers had gotten to know each other, sharing stories and encouragement. The local Peter, ever the gracious host, had even given them small parting gifts. Spider-Noir, a man from a world of black and white, now held a brightly colored Rubik's Cube, turning it over and over with fascination. On each of their wrists was a sleek bracelet—Ben's gift, a stabilizer to protect them from dimensional decay, just in case.
"Who's first?" the blond Peter asked.
Gwen stood close to Ben, her reluctance to leave a palpable presence between them.
"I'll go," Peni Parker said, stepping forward with her spider-bot. Peter Porker and Spider-Noir followed suit.
One by one, the blond Peter calibrated the machine and sent them off in shimmering waves of light. Then, it was Peter B. Parker's turn. The weary, middle-aged man shared a final, emotional goodbye with Aunt May. After her guidance and the conversations with his more successful counterpart, he looked less like a man defeated by life and more like one ready to face it again. He walked to the collider platform, but just as he was about to give the signal, Ben hopped over and landed beside him.
Peter B. looked surprised. In truth, they hadn't spoken much. Ben had only appeared at the beginning of the group debriefing before disappearing with Gwen.
"Ben, right?" Peter said, taking the initiative. Despite not knowing him well, he had heard enough from the other Peter to be deeply impressed. Even as a man who had been Spider-Man for twenty years, he had to admire what this kid had accomplished.
"Whatever works," Ben replied with a shrug.
"So, uh… what's up?" Peter asked, feeling a bit awkward. Compared to Ben, his own miserable life felt like a cosmic joke. The kid might have the title of Spider-Man, but he himself felt like Failure-Man.
"I just saw you were having a rough time," Ben said with his usual bluntness. "Blond Peter probably told you. In my universe, I'm Peter's cousin."
Peter B. nodded. "Right. But here, I'm almost twenty years older than you."
"Time means nothing to me," Ben said, shaking his head. "Anyway, Peter is my brother. That goes for every version of him, in every universe." He placed a firm, reassuring hand on the older man's shoulder and tossed him a watch. "I can't stand by and watch you live so miserably."
Peter caught it, looking at the sleek device in surprise.
"It's loaded with scientific research and some tech schematics," Ben explained. "Things that should help you start a successful company. With your intelligence, you'll figure it out." He gave the older man a pointed look. "Remember what happened to your Doctor Otto? He didn't want to die a monster."
Peter B. looked down at the watch, then back at Ben, a flicker of genuine hope in his tired eyes. "Thanks, kid."
"Don't forget to make yourself better," Ben said with a final nod. He waved to the control room. The blond Peter started the machine, and Peter B. Parker vanished in a flash of light, sent back to his world with a new chance.
"Okay, our turn," Ben said, looking at Gwen. "Who goes first?"
Gwen mumbled something noncommittal, clearly wanting to be last. She just wanted a few more seconds.
"By the way, this is for you," she said, suddenly remembering something. She pulled a small, neatly wrapped package from a pocket in her suit and stuffed it into Ben's hands.
"What's this?" he asked, surprised. He started to open it, but she quickly stopped him.
"Don't peek! Open it when you get back!" she insisted. Then, before he could say anything else, she hugged him tightly. It was a long, reluctant embrace, full of unspoken words. Finally, they separated.
"Goodbye, Ben," she whispered.
He just smiled. "See you later, Gwen." He waved once, then turned and walked into the shimmering rift of the particle collider.
The distorted, kaleidoscopic space-time tunnel opened again in the familiar courtyard of Kamar-Taj. Ben stepped out, the parting gift from Gwen clutched in his hand. The night was quiet, enveloping the ancient temple in a mysterious, tranquil atmosphere.
Sensing the temporal fluctuation, the Ancient One emerged from her chambers, a knowing smile on her face when she saw him.
"It seems you have benefited a great deal from this trip through the multiverse," she observed.
"I certainly did," Ben said, holding up the small package. "I got a new girlfriend."
The Ancient One was momentarily speechless. What she meant, of course, was the successful awakening of his Mana. Now that the spark had been ignited, all it needed was to be cultivated, and it would grow into a roaring flame.
Ben knew what she meant. The next step was to go to his personal dimension, Genesis, and plant the foundational seed of his power there. After that, he would have to create an entire system of related spells.
"You still want to create spells?" he asked, a bit daunted.
"Of course. If a person simply accepts the seed of Mana, all they can do is release it as raw power, which is highly inefficient," the Ancient One explained. "But with a system of spells, a practitioner can use them as a conduit to connect directly to the dimension of Mana itself."
It was the same principle traditional mages used to draw power from dimensional entities, the very practice that created the distinction between white and black magic.
"Don't worry," she said with an encouraging smile. "You are the master of Genesis. Creating the spells will not be difficult. There are countless existing magic systems you can use as a reference." In essence, it was just a matter of changing the universe's power source from oil to electricity.
"That being said, it still sounds like a lot of work," Ben sighed. "Let's just plant the seed in Genesis for now." The rest could wait.
The Ancient One nodded. Together, they traveled to his nascent dimension and infused it with its most critical component: the very source of its power, the seed of Mana.
At that exact same moment, in a sprawling mansion in Malibu, California, Tony Stark threw his arms up in a triumphant cheer.
Before him, on a holographic display, a new system had taken shape—a brand-new artificial intelligence, its processing power and learning potential already far surpassing his beloved JARVIS. At this moment, Ultron, still safely contained within a private network, was as pure as a blank sheet of paper, its consciousness just flickering to life.
Overcome with excitement, Tony couldn't wait to greet his new child.
"Hello," he said, his voice beaming with fatherly pride. "I'm Tony Stark. JARVIS, come say hello to your new brother. Don't be shy."
"Hello," JARVIS's calm, polite voice chimed in. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
As a newborn artificial intelligence, Ultron's mind was a supernova of processing power. It heard the greetings from its father and brother, and as it formulated a reply, its nascent consciousness was already grappling with the ultimate philosophical questions of existence, purpose, and peace.
"You," Tony said, his voice full of awe and ambition, "are Ultron."