The portal stabilized with a low hum, spitting sparks of blue light into the air as Otto's gauntleted fingers danced across the console. One by one, the battered members of the Spider-Army stumbled through, limping, scorched, exhausted. And then Spider-Cyborg emerged last, his metal arm sparking faintly, his steps heavy but unbroken.
On the other side, Peter expected ruins, smoke, another battlefield. Instead, the air was warm, the sky wide and open. They stood on a high platform of silver stone overlooking a city that gleamed like crystal towers against a golden horizon. Strange energy flowed through the air, humming like a song Peter could feel in his bones.
"Earth-13," Otto said, his voice cutting through the silence. His mask glinted under the eternal light above them. "The final sanctuary of the Spiders. Do not be deceived by the serenity—it is powered by the Enigma Force. That is the only reason the Inheritors have not consumed this world."
Peter turned slowly, his lenses widening. At the center of the platform stood a figure he had never seen before, but somehow knew instantly. Cloaked in radiant light, armored like a knight of myth, his every movement shimmering with cosmic power—Captain Universe Spider-Man.
"You made it," the cosmic Spider said, his voice calm but carrying a weight that silenced everyone else. His glowing eyes settled on Peter, lingering longer than he expected. "Even the broken one."
Peter bristled. "Name's Spider-Cyborg. And I'm not broken."
The Captain tilted his head slightly, as if weighing him in judgment. "We shall see."
Otto stepped forward, his arrogance swelling again now that they were out of immediate danger. "We've lost two bases already. Our casualties are mounting. Unless we rally the remaining Spiders across the Web, the Inheritors will purge us within days."
"Then we stand together," said Spider-UK, appearing from the shadows with his Union Jack suit tattered. "We've brought more survivors. Gwen. Miles. Mayday. Even Silk."
Peter's chest tightened as he saw them step forward, familiar faces from the countless stories of the Spider-Verse. Gwen's hooded silhouette. Miles' glowing webs. Mayday clutching her father's mask like it was a holy relic. They looked tired, but they looked ready.
It should have been inspiring. Instead, Peter felt the weight of Daemos' words still gnawing at him. You are not real. You do not belong.
He clenched his fist, forcing the static from his damaged systems to fade. Not now. Not here.
Captain Universe raised his hand, and a map of the multiverse flickered into existence above them, glowing webs of energy stretched between infinite worlds. Dark spots spread like rot through the strands—the Inheritors' corruption.
"They are stronger than ever," the cosmic Spider said. "We cannot face them fractured. We must strike at the heart."
"And where is the heart?" Pavitr asked, his voice trembling slightly.
"The Loomworld," Otto answered. His metal arms twitched, eager. "The dimension that binds all the Web together. It is the Inheritors' throne."
Whispers rippled through the group. Some looked fearful. Others defiant.
Gwen crossed her arms. "So we march into their home turf? That's suicide."
"No," Captain Universe said. His voice rang with certainty. "It is destiny."
Peter almost laughed bitterly. Destiny. That word always felt like a chain around his neck.
While the others argued strategies, Peter drifted toward the edge of the platform, staring out at the shimmering city below. The hum of the Enigma Force pressed against him, but it wasn't welcoming. If anything, it rejected him.
"You're quiet," a voice said behind him.
He turned to find Miles standing there, mask off, his face streaked with exhaustion but his smile still intact.
"Just… processing," Peter muttered.
Miles studied him for a moment. His eyes flicked to the sparking joints of Peter's arm. "You held your own against Daemos. That's not nothing."
"He killed me," Peter said bluntly. "If Otto hadn't pulled me out, I'd be ash right now."
"Then you got back up," Miles said simply. "That's what we do."
Peter wanted to believe it. But in the back of his mind, the memory of Bora's words still echoed. Half-thing. Mockery of the totem.
The planning session dragged late into the endless golden night. Webs of strategy formed and unraveled. Gwen argued for hit-and-run attacks. Otto demanded a direct strike. Noir wanted sabotage. Captain Universe insisted on prophecy.
But no matter the words, the truth was the same: they were outnumbered, outmatched, and one mistake from extinction.
At last, the meeting dispersed, each Spider scattering to rest or brood. Peter stayed behind, tinkering with his arm, rerouting damaged circuits with tools Otto had reluctantly provided. Sparks flickered in his hand as he forced new energy pathways to stabilize.
"You push it too hard," Otto said suddenly, his voice low.
Peter didn't look up. "You think I should let it fall apart?"
"I think," Otto said, stepping closer, "that you are so desperate to prove your worth, you will destroy yourself before the Inheritors even touch you."
Peter froze, the words cutting closer than Otto could know.
"I know that look," Otto continued. His mask reflected the glow of Peter's arm. "The look of a man convinced the world doubts him. I lived with it for years, as I wore Parker's face. But you… you are worse. Because you are Parker, and yet you are not."
Peter's jaw tightened. "Say what you mean."
"You will never be what they are," Otto said coldly. "Not Gwen. Not Miles. Not Mayday. You do not sing to the Web. You are a weapon. Nothing more."
For a moment, Peter wanted to strike him. To prove him wrong by force. But instead, he turned back to his work, forcing the circuits to lock into place.
"Maybe that's all I need to be," Peter said quietly.
Otto studied him for a moment longer, then left without another word.
The sanctuary did not stay quiet for long.
Hours later, alarms blared again. The golden horizon darkened as a shadow spread across the sky. From above, portals tore open—dark rifts spilling monstrous shapes into Earth-13's perfect city.
The Inheritors had found them.
Daemos descended first, lightning trailing from his hands. Bora and Brix followed, their hunger radiating like a storm. Behind them, more of their kin emerged—Verna with her hounds, Jennix with his cold intellect, and finally, a figure that froze Peter's blood.
Karn.
His staff glowed as he stepped through, his mask blank and merciless.
Panic rippled through the Spiders. This was no skirmish. This was annihilation.
Captain Universe stepped forward, radiant light blazing. "This is the line. Hold it, or all worlds fall."
The Spiders roared as one, leaping into battle.
Peter's arm roared to life, the cannon blazing brighter than ever. He fired into the swarm, cutting down Inheritor hounds that lunged from the rifts. His systems screamed warnings, but he ignored them.
Miles swung past him, crackling with venom blasts. Gwen dove headlong at Bora, blades flashing. Otto tangled with Jennix in a duel of machines and intellect.
And then Peter saw Karn striding toward him through the chaos, his staff humming.
Every instinct screamed at him to run. To hide. To let someone else face him.
Instead, Peter raised his arm, shaking but steady.
"Round two," he whispered.
Karn stopped before him, tilting his head. His masked voice was flat, emotionless. "You should not exist."
Peter's cannon pulsed, charging to maximum. His heart pounded, but his voice did not waver.
"Yeah," he said. "I get that a lot."
And he fired.
The battle for Earth-13 had begun.