The makeshift meeting spot—a quiet workshop tucked inside Hiro's lab—was alive with tension. Tools lay scattered across workbenches, monitors flickered with diagnostic scans Baymax had taken of the newcomers, and Hiro sat cross-legged in his chair, trying to hide his excitement at meeting Spider-Man in person.
But the air shifted when Silvanna leaned forward.
"Peter," she said softly, "they deserve to know. I deserve to know. Why you disappeared. Why we couldn't find you."
Spider-Man removed his mask, revealing tired eyes and a face that carried both youth and years of burden. He rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling slowly.
"It wasn't by choice," he began. "One night, I was tracking something strange—energy readings I hadn't seen since the battle with Thanos. Before I could figure it out, this… machine, some kind of living tech, ambushed me. Black and white, humanoid, fast. It hit me with something like a tether, and the next thing I knew, I was gone."
Aurora's breath caught. "The robot."
Spider-Man nodded grimly. "Yeah. Same one you saw. It pulled me through worlds—dimensions. I don't know how long I was falling, but when I landed… it wasn't home anymore. It was here. San Fransokyo."
Juggernaut frowned, massive arms folded. "And you just stayed here? Didn't even try to get back?"
Spider-Man's eyes hardened. "You think I didn't try? Every day, I searched for a way home. But this world isn't just different—it's quieter. No Avengers, no X-Men, not even a whisper of them. Just local heroes. Hiro, Baymax, their team… and me. If I left, who'd protect them?"
Vanessa tilted her head, golden hair catching the lab light. "So you stayed. Out of duty."
"Out of guilt," Spider-Man corrected quietly. "I wasn't strong enough to stop that robot from taking me. I wasn't there when my world needed me. So if I couldn't save mine… I swore I'd save this one."
Silvanna's fists clenched against the table. She knew that voice, that weight—because she carried it herself. "Peter… you don't have to bear it alone anymore. That's why we're here. Tony sent us, remember? You do have people at your back."
Spider-Man looked at her, then at Aurora and Vanessa, suspicion still flickering but tempered by something else: hope.
Aurora finally spoke, her voice calm but firm. "And we need you too. That robot—whatever it is—it's not done. If it dragged you across dimensions, it can do it again. It's not just about your guilt, Peter. It's about stopping whatever pulled you away in the first place."
The room fell quiet again. Hiro leaned forward in his chair, chin resting on his hand. "Then maybe the real question is… do you want to keep running from your past, or do you want to fight for your future?"
Spider-Man smirked faintly at the boy's bluntness. "You sound like Tony."
Silvanna chuckled softly. "Funny. He'd probably say the same thing."
For the first time in years, Peter Parker felt something stir inside him—like a tangled web finally starting to unknot. He didn't have all the answers yet. But maybe, just maybe, he wasn't lost anymore.