"Spider-Man is a public nuisance!"
Peter Parker's shoulders slumped, a gloomy expression clouding his face. He lifted his head, gazing with profound annoyance at the colossal digital billboard dominating the bustling street. On the newly installed screen towering over Broadway, J. Jonah Jameson, the infamous owner of the Daily Bugle, was in his element, his voice a rasping bark of public condemnation.
The high-definition display was so sharp, so unforgivingly clear, that Peter swore he could count the individual hairs flaring from Jameson's nostrils with every indignant snort. The old man's disgusted tirade echoed through the canyon of skyscrapers, amplified across every street corner and causing pedestrians to stop in their tracks, their faces upturned and captivated by the spectacle.
Everyone knew what this was about. The report was a direct follow-up to the city-shaking conflict between Spider-Man and Ultron just a few days prior. Scores of New Yorkers had witnessed the high-stakes chase, a fierce battle that had ripped through the sky and injected a jolt of chaotic news into a city that was slowly, unnervingly, becoming lifeless under Ultron's sterile peace.
Like sharks smelling blood in the water, reporters had swarmed the story, all of them asking the one question on everyone's mind: What was the source of the conflict between Spider-Man and Ultron?
That single question had splintered into a dozen more. Was there a fundamental clash between traditional superheroes and the new world order Ultron represented? What crime could Spider-Man have possibly committed to warrant such a response? Was Ultron justified in hunting him down?
A cascade of questions followed, triggering heated debates across every news channel and social media platform. Given Ultron's flawless track record—an unblemished history of perfect arrests and preemptive strikes—public trust was overwhelmingly on the machine's side. The prevailing logic was simple and brutal: Ultron had never been wrong. Therefore, Spider-Man must be guilty.
This narrative was the exact kind of ammunition Jameson lived for. It played perfectly into his long-standing crusade, and he immediately called a press conference, bought the largest screen in Times Square, and launched his most vicious public critique of Spider-Man to date. From the moment the masked hero had first swung through the city, Jameson had loudly proclaimed him a menace, a pest. Today, it seemed the world was finally agreeing with him.
Peter, however, felt a deep, simmering depression. This is the same guy I helped, the same guy who worked with me to expose Hydra, he thought, the irony a bitter pill to swallow.
Venom, ever the voice of pure rage, seethed in his mind. "You actually took pictures for that blowhard? Let him pay you to print photos he uses to slander you? I swear, you have a masochistic streak a mile wide, kid!"
The symbiote's anger was a palpable force. "We need to teach him a lesson! A real lesson! Let's sneak into his office, shave that ridiculous mustache off, and give him a haircut that leaves him looking like a cue ball! The Mediterranean look!"
"Okay, okay, calm down. Let's not make things worse," Peter muttered, shaking his head. As furious as he was, he understood the gravity of their situation. "Ultron is just waiting for an excuse, waiting for us to step out of line. We can't give it one."
Besides, he had other priorities today. He was supposed to be on a date, and the last thing he wanted was to cause an international incident. Peter glanced down at the bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand, the petals starting to wilt.
Ever since Flash Thompson had been injured by Kraven and subsequently lost his memory, Liz had broken up with him. In the interim, Peter's personality, bolstered by the symbiote's aggressive confidence, had become more outgoing, drawing attention he'd never had before. He and Liz had gradually drifted into an ambiguous, flirtatious relationship.
Today was supposed to be their first official date, but she was running incredibly late, leaving him to stand here and stew in his own frustration for what felt like an eternity. He scratched the back of his head, trying his best to tune out Jameson's grating voice.
"I wonder how Uncle Ben and Aunt May are doing on Sakaar," he mused, his thoughts drifting to his uncle and aunt.
It was the first time Ben Parker, Sr. and May Parker had ever set foot on an alien world.
With his contingency plans firmly in place back on Earth, Ben had decided it was the perfect time to leave the planet temporarily and give his parents a grand tour of the Plumbers' interstellar headquarters. On one hand, it was a chance to satisfy their burgeoning curiosity about the vast universe beyond their little blue marble. On the other, it was a pragmatic move to ensure Ultron, in its cold, calculating logic, wouldn't try anything unsportsmanlike by targeting them.
Initially, Ben Sr. and May had pleaded with Peter to come with them, to lay low on Sakaar until the storm blew over. They didn't understand the complex philosophies of heroism, but they understood a simple, profound truth: a gentleman doesn't stand under a collapsing wall. The entire conflict stemmed from Ultron deeming Venom a threat that needed to be controlled. In that case, removing Venom from Earth seemed like the most logical solution.
But neither Peter nor Venom would hear of it.
To them, leaving Earth felt like running away, like admitting guilt. It would be giving Ultron exactly what it wanted, a shameful retreat. After being so thoroughly outmaneuvered, Peter and Venom were both nursing a burning sense of indignation and refused to concede defeat.
You, Ultron, claim that I, Venom, am a monster? Fine. I'll stay right here and prove you wrong!
Ben had anticipated this. He knew Ultron's next move would be to systematically dismantle Peter's life, but he hadn't intervened. In fact, he had secretly purchased the Daily Bugle through a shell corporation, ensuring Jameson had a steady paycheck to continue his crusade. It was Ben who was now funding the anti-Spider-Man propaganda.
He believed a little adversity would do Peter good. An unchecked string of victories was dangerous for a Spider-Totem; he worried that too much good fortune would inevitably lead to a catastrophic fall, a repeat of the tragic mistakes that had doomed the Peter B. Parker of the other universe. A little frustration would forge Peter into something stronger.
Besides, Venom's time with Peter was nearing its end. The symbiote, once driven by pure malice, had been tempered by Peter's inherent goodness. This manufactured crisis was the perfect opportunity to separate them and pave the way for Agent Venom's debut. Flash, who had taken a bullet—or rather, a knife—for Peter, was still recovering, his memory a blank slate, but Ben had long-term plans for him.
As for everyone else, Ben had already put the pieces in place. There was nothing to worry about.
Upon their arrival at Plumber Command, Ben Sr. and May received a reception fit for royalty, orchestrated primarily by an enthusiastic Looma Red Wind. The Tetramands, though lovers of battle, were far from stupid; on the contrary, their culture valued cunning and strategic thinking. Recognizing the Parkers' identity and their importance to Ben, Looma immediately began a charm offensive.
May and Ben Sr. saw right through Looma's passionate, if unsubtle, intentions, but they still found it hard to process. The sudden appearance of a four-armed, crimson-skinned alien warrior as a potential daughter-in-law was, to put it mildly, an adjustment. They had always pictured Mary Jane or Felicia in that role, but they had no intention of interfering in Ben's life.
Let the kids figure it out themselves, they agreed. We'll support them no matter what they choose.
Finding themselves unable to sit still, Ben Sr. and May quickly integrated into life at the headquarters. They formally joined the Plumbers corps, taking on missions to various planets to help maintain peace, eagerly absorbing the diverse customs and cultures of the galaxy. Ben was happy to let them, knowing that with Looma as their constant companion, they were in the safest hands possible.
After his parents departed on their first off-world assignment, Caiera updated Ben on the Plumbers' recent progress.
First, nearly a hundred life-sustaining planets had officially joined the Plumbers' alliance, establishing branches on their homeworlds. Many were former territories of Thanos, while others were the home planets of the gladiators freed from Sakaar. The stone-man Korg, for instance, had successfully convinced his planet's leadership to join the fold.
Furthermore, the symbiote homeworld of Klyntar had entered into a formal cooperation agreement, resulting in a new wave of hybrid Plumbers coexisting with their symbiote partners. It was a win-win: the Plumbers needed more field operatives with enhanced combat power, and the symbiotes needed worthy hosts. Their interests were, for the most part, aligned.
Taken individually, these planets were insignificant. But united under the Plumber banner, they represented a formidable new power in the cosmos. More importantly for Ben, the more Plumbers there were, the more they would use his Mana. These people were, in essence, all his employees. He held up a Plumber's badge, flipping it over to reveal the intricate, glowing spell-work etched onto the back.
"This is the Genesis Key."
"Genesis now has its own sustainable energy source," he explained. "I've integrated the activation method into the standard-issue Plumber emblem. We can now distribute Mana through the universal network, enhancing the strength of every agent."
Caiera took the key, examining it with a warrior's curiosity. She was astonished that such a small object could channel such immense power. Ben encouraged her to experience it firsthand.
In an instant, a stream of vibrant, pink Mana flowed into Caiera's body, merging with the crackling blue lightning of the Old Power within her. The two energies didn't clash; they harmonized, creating a terrible, beautiful roar!
Caiera's eyes widened in shock. She felt her strength multiply exponentially in a single heartbeat. The potent aura erupting from her created visible waves in the air, whipping her long, silver hair around her face.
"How does it feel? Not bad, right?" Ben asked, a satisfied smile on his face.
He had already discovered that his Mana could integrate with Wanda's Chaos Magic, resulting in a positive feedback loop that amplified both forces instead of causing them to conflict. This property was critically important. If mishandled, combining two disparate energy types could not only fail to produce an enhancement but could actively inhibit each other, causing more harm than good.
As Caiera reveled in the surge of power, Ben felt the corresponding shift in Genesis. Though her power boost was immense, the feedback it provided to his personal dimension was faint, almost negligible. This wasn't surprising. While Caiera might currently be stronger than Wanda, their ultimate potential wasn't on the same level. The Old Power, as potent as it was, couldn't compare to the reality-warping fundamental force of Chaos Magic.
Following Caiera, the other senior Plumbers received their own Genesis Keys. Loki and Brunnhilde were astounded, unable to comprehend how even the divine power of Asgard could be so seamlessly integrated with this new energy.
"Now, my magic is even stronger," Loki declared, a delighted, scheming glint in his eyes as he felt the power course through him. Although he proudly called himself the greatest sorcerer in the Nine Realms, his personal reservoir of divine power had always been limited. After relinquishing Mjolnir, he had reverted to his baseline state, possessing little true combat strength.
But the Mana changed everything. The initial amount was small, but its true advantage was its infinite potential for growth through training and its perfect compatibility with his sorcery.
"If I continue on this path, it won't be long before I surpass my old strength, even without the hammer!" he said, giddy with the possibilities. Loki didn't mourn the loss of Mjolnir, but the feeling of powerlessness had been deeply unpleasant. Now, he had a path to reclaim—and exceed—the power he once held as the God of Mischief.
Ben found Loki's ambition amusingly narrow-minded. The power Mjolnir granted was a drop in the ocean compared to what he was truly capable of. Still, Ben was optimistic about Loki's future. Perhaps the one who would become the God of Stories wasn't this exact variant, but if other Lokis held that potential, this one might as well. Now that Loki possessed a seed of Mana, the stronger he became, the more power would feed back into Genesis.
Brunnhilde's enhancement was a welcome bonus. Beta Ray Bill, too, felt his strength surge, the new power filling the void left by his inability to wield Mjolnir and ensuring he wouldn't be left behind in the arms race of the cosmos. The Mana gave them all a chance to shatter their existing limitations and reach for a more glorious future. Bill was ecstatic; only with greater power could he better protect everything he held dear—once his people on their massive battleship, and now, Sakaar and the Plumbers.
"Loki, I need to teach you how to manufacture the Genesis Keys," Ben said, finding his favorite part-time worker without a hint of shame.
The power boost from his senior staff was a good start, but it wasn't enough. Ben knew this was a long-term investment, that as the lord of his own dimension, he was playing a game of compound interest, not immediate returns. But he was still unsatisfied with the current rate of growth.
Relying on the improvement of a few individuals was insufficient. He needed to win through overwhelming numbers. But he couldn't spend all his time personally crafting thousands of charters. Loki, already a master of magic and enchantment, was the natural choice for the job.
He clapped a hand on Loki's shoulder, his expression grave, as if entrusting him with a sacred duty.
"Making the Genesis Key standard issue for every Plumber, as quickly as possible—it all falls to you!"
Loki stared back, his expression shifting from confusion to horror. "Are you mad?! Do you have any idea how many Plumbers there are now?" he shrieked, feeling as if the sky itself was about to collapse on him.
There were already tens of thousands of agents on Sakaar alone, not to mention the hundreds of planets that had joined the alliance. Even if each planet only contributed a hundred agents, that was still tens of thousands more. And the number was only going to grow. Would he ever do anything else again? No, I have to find a way to automate this, to be lazy! Loki immediately began scheming. He would need, at minimum, an entire automated production factory. Otherwise, he would spend the rest of his life as a glorified artisan for Ben, the black-hearted boss.
Ben was oblivious to Loki's internal panic, though if he had known, he would have sighed in agreement: Laziness is the mother of invention. He had other, more pressing matters to attend to, otherwise he would have gladly helped Loki build the factory himself.
His destination was the Galactic Federation.
After leaving Sakaar, Ben had taken a Plumber warship, piloted by Beta Ray Bill, to this neutral ground. Originally just an unremarkable asteroid, the planet had gradually evolved into a central hub for communication and negotiation among countless civilizations. This unique position had allowed it to prosper, becoming the de facto diplomatic capital of the galaxy.
However, much like the United Nations on Earth, the Galactic Federation held little actual power. It was a negotiating table, not an army. If it had any real strength, it would never have stood by while Thanos ravaged so many worlds.
This time, however, was different. Upon hearing that the leader of the Plumbers, the King of Sakaar, would be attending a summit, the major empires—the Kree, and the Shi'ar—were treating the meeting with the utmost importance. They weren't the only ones. Civilizations from across the known universe understood the implications. The centuries-old balance of power was about to be shattered. A fourth great empire was rising.
A new, powerful civilization was making its debut on the galactic stage, and no one could afford to ignore it.
But as soon as Ben stepped off the ramp of his warship, his eyes landed on a figure in the welcoming delegation, and he froze, a look of genuine surprise crossing his face.