Before the lurching sensation eased, Orion somehow caught a glimpse of what was left behind in the world despite not having eyes as he disappeared with the crimson-haired woman.
A vast, barren planet, without a single living creature in sight. High above, in space, two ginormous dragons were entangled with each other. One, a purple-scaled eastern dragon with no visible end in sight, wrapped around the now-barren planet, and a red western dragon that, while not as long, was significantly larger than the eastern dragon in width, unaffected despite being coiled up.
That glimpse disappeared just like it had appeared, and his vision turned black, leaving him with the same enhanced proprioception that he felt when his body was still liquid. Though a mental image emerged in his mind that stole his attention. The woman whom he'd just bonded with. With a near-perfect internal vision, he could picture everything about her body.
This feels a little criminal…
Despite the thought, he didn't stop examining the woman, mentally picturing her body from her slightly long yet well-manicured nails to the pink tips of her large yet unrealistically perky breasts. Even the faint burns on her left leg and the small cuts marring her otherwise smooth skin. He had a perfect image of her irresistible body.
"Who are you?" She finally spoke after recovering from presumably the same lurching sensation that he had felt. Orion's thoughts moved away from the woman's body, and he saw no traces of the previous ruined world. Instead, they were inside a bedroom, standing in front of a mirror. His thoughts froze for a moment, mesmerized by her crimson hair that went down to her thighs. Then came the realization that she wasn't actually naked and was instead wearing a far too racy miniskirt that barely covered her butt, revealing her legs down to half her calves before they were covered by the burnt-up socks, along with a shirt and a corset around her stomach that emphasized her chest. All black. Her colors were red for her hair, white for her unrealistically smooth and unblemished skin, and black for the rest of her clothing articles.
I can see through her eyes, but the sensation is whacky as hell…And is the black clothing because of me?
The sense of dissonance of seeing through someone else's eyes didn't sit right with him, and he quickly separated from her to turn into his base form, as per the system, at least. To him, it was just his body.
A black slimy mass escaped from the red-haired woman's body and coalesced into a humanoid shape, quickly turning into Orion, with a set of black trousers and a green shirt that had two buttons open and the sleeves folded up. He mentally noted that despite the separation, he still had a perfect mental picture of her naked body, including the cuts and bruises littering her body that were slowly healing naturally.
"Hi," he smiled politely, finally getting to look at her. "My name is Orion. I was in a bit of a pinch there. I hope you don't mind me tagging along."
"To survive the aftershocks of a battle between Great Red and Ophis. You must be strong," she said, a thoughtful look overtaking her. "What species are you?"
"That's a very good question," Orion said, mentally summoning his status with a slight desperation as he recalled the last words that he received from his system. "I'm a…symbiotic life-form."
Name: Orion
Species: Klyntar
Magic Capacity: 0/0 (Human)
Specialization: Tantric
Physique: 2.3 [Cohesion 1.5 | Resilience: 3.1 | Regeneration: 3.4]
Mind: 2.6 [Intelligence 2.2 | Wisdom 3.0]
Prime Host: Rias Gremory
Species: Devil
Sync: 0%
Magic Capacity: 356/653 [58,439] (High-Class Devil — Suppressed)
Innate Ability: Power of Destruction
Physical Stats (Expand)
I know her… that's why those two dragons also felt familiar.
"I'm not sure if you would know if my species," Orion said. "Klyntar. You must be Rias Gremory?"
"You know me?"
"I have had some dealings with Devils in the past," he said with a professional smile. "Anyone would recognize that crimson hair and the Power of Destruction flowing through you."
She nodded before frowning at him. "Symbiotic, not parasitic?"
"Symbiotic. I need a host to survive without going dormant. In return, I can make you stronger both passively and actively."
"How strong?"
"Depends. I'm not really strong right now. But I can heal your cuts and bruises," he said.
"Show me?" She said questioningly, settling into a slightly authoritative tone before starting to unbutton her corset and shirt, making Orion pause. "What? I'm pretty sure you've seen and felt everything there was to see and feel when you wrapped around me."
"You realized that, huh?" Orion said nervously.
She seems pretty open about nudity. Then again, she did cuddle with a dude she just met for a whole night, naked, in the name of healing him.
Reaching out to his connection to her, he tried to simply think about healing her. That was how he'd done everything up to now, and hoped that it would work. Unfortunately, as she neatly folded her clothes, revealing her body covered in light injuries, that seemed like a futile endeavor.
"Are you doing something?" She asked him.
"Give me a minute..." Orion said thoughtfully, trying to focus on a single bloody cut that was on her upper arm. Taking a more active approach, he controlled his body—it felt almost like an extension of himself when connected to Rias—and the blackened mass emerged from the skin around her wound, covering the cut tightly. The black material entered her cut and started by cleaning the wound and then mending it.
A few seconds later, the black material receded into her, leaving her perfectly healed arm.
"How does it feel?" He asked, noticing that Rias had completely undressed, neatly placing everything on the side. She unabashedly turned to look at him, uncaring about his eyes hovering along her body with a look of slight desire and arousal.
"Good as new," she said, moving her finger along the cut that had been there before. "How long to completely heal me?"
"Maybe ten minutes," he said. "Can you teach me magic?"
"Not right now, no. My magical energy is suppressed in this world for the time being. I will have to do something about that before I can get full access. Right now, even my magic circles are unstable," she said.
As if to prove her point, she raised her palm, and Orion immediately felt an ethereal energy being channeled through Rias' body, coalescing in her palm. The number beside her magic capacity dropped by three units, and a red magic circle appeared over her palm, only to start flickering moments later before completely fizzling out soon enough.
"See? You have a shapeless body, right? Can you form a weapon? A dagger, sword, or something?"
"Sure, let me try," he nodded, and Rias looked down, feeling a slightly slithery sensation over her wrist as a black material emerged from her skin and moved along her palm to form into a glove that made her curl up her fingers. A grip appeared in her hand before elongating into a simple longsword.
"Interesting," she said, looking at her gloved hand before waving the sword around with practiced movements. "Can you interface with my mind directly? Something like telepathy? That would make the next minute or two a little easier to deal with."
"I probably won't be able to get through your natural mental defense. You aren't an untrained human, after all," he said.
"Try. I won't resist."
Orion once again focused on his bond with her and tried to specifically focus on her brain in an attempt to interface with her mentally.
[Rias?]
She looked up at him with a raised brow. [I hear you. What about the other way?]
[I can hear you as well. Though I have to actively maintain this connection for you to be able to talk to me mentally.]
[It's fine. Please make sure to maintain this connection for the next few minutes. Make the sword disappear and get back inside my body. We're about to have company.]
What a demure and polite woman…
Rias sat down in front of the mirror and started brushing her hair, still naked, as she waited for the company to arrive. Since she didn't seem to mind even after seeing Orion's male form, he wasn't going to be polite and freely feasted on the devil woman's downright succubus-like body through her own eyes.
Soon, he heard the door click open, and Rias turned around, facing… herself.
The newcomer froze in her place, looking at a naked copy of herself sitting on her dresser.
"Who are you?" The newcomer asked, spreading her hands apart and summoning crimson flames on both her palms. The intense threat that Orion sensed from those flames told him that they were not to be messed with.
Rias may be a bit of a weakling in the grand scheme of things, but the Power of Destruction is undeniably one of, if not the strongest, abilities among countless others.
"I'm you," the nude Rias said, standing up. "And I need help."
"Stay there."
"I am an alternate version of you, Rias. My world, my reality. Everything was destroyed. Soon, the same thing will happen to yours."
"I don't get it."
"In time, you will. But know this, within days, this reality will be invaded by Ophis, the Oroborous Dragon. It will come and devour everything, kill Great Red, and collapse this reality into the Dimensional Gap. I need your help, Rias."
"T-this doesn't make any sense…"
"It will, in time," the nude Rias stepped closer, seeing her counterpart dropping her guard. Orion could sense the stirring. "I need you to do something for me in the meantime."
"What?"
[Sword, Orion.]
"Die," a black, gloved hand was thrust forward, the sword forming mid-way as it pierced through Rias' heart, leaving the redhead with wide eyes. "I'm sorry."
The nude Rias' eyes held nothing more than a faint sense of pity as she stepped forward and embraced her counterpart, dragging her into the room as the sword and black glove on her hand melted into her.
Did I miss something here? I'd thought that Rias was a bit of a weakling and a waste of the Power of Destruction. When did she suddenly become Rick? Even he generally chooses realities where his alternate self dies naturally… This one just upped and murdered her alternate self.
[I have...questions, Rias.]
"Yes, of course. Please, come out and sit. I will need some help from you to deal with my counterpart as well."
===============
Okay, so I'm going to cheat a little because I want to get to 15k words before the start of the next week, so that the story can get up on the power stone rankings. That's why I will post a sort of teaser of a different unpublished story below this. It will only stay here until I hit chapter 8 or so of this story. If it gets anyone interested, let me know, and I'll officially post it.
It's called Apex Spider-Man and works on a slightly different premise where Peter gets the symbiote.
Apex 1: Prologue
He jumped from the peak of the spire on top of the Chrysler Building. The sensation of being in freefall excited him as adrenaline rushed through his body. As a few seconds passed, he pointed his arm at another skyscraper, triggering a button with his middle and ring finger. A white web shot through his wrist and attached itself to the building, breaking him out of freefall as he let out an excited exclamation while swinging through the sky.
Tell me there's something better. Go on, try.
With his other arm, he shot another web at a different building mid-swing and detached the previous web from his wrist. Going through the air, he reached the side of the building and let go of the web before running on the side of the wall more than thirty stories off the ground.
How I spent my summer vacation. By Peter Benjamin Parker. I can sum it up in one glorious hyphenated word: Spider-Man.
"I am the Spectacular Spider-Man!" He announced as he shot his webs at two buildings at the same time and yanked both arms forward, slingshotting through the air.
Well, this time would be the second edition of that specific book. I've been doing this Spider-Man gig for a little over a year and a half now, and I have to say, it's been the best year and a half of my life. Save for a few hiccups…
While being a high-school student in the morning and a masked vigilante hero at night sounded like a pretty perfect job on paper, there were more than a few problems with that. And the biggest problem? Money. It didn't exactly pay to work as a vigilante at night. Not only did it not pay, but it also got him the wrong kind of attention.
It's not all bad, of course. I get to have an awesome time beating up bad guys and saving people from them.
He heard a sudden transmission in his ear and narrowed his eyes.
"10-16… which one was that again?" He spoke to himself, changing his direction mid-route by slingshotting himself with the help of two buildings. "Oh yeah, a stolen vehicle."
He quickly made his way to the intersection of Broadway and Fifth Avenue as directed by the police scanner. When close enough, he slowed down and focused his Spider-Sense to locate the exact position of the vehicle by the sounds of the sirens. Immediately, he located the source and shot forward, swinging through the intersection and moving further down the street. A turn at the next street allowed him to directly see the stolen vehicle and the patrol car chasing it. He launched himself toward the car and shot two webs at its roof to perfectly land on top of it.
"Peek-a-boo," he said as he stuck himself to the roof and webbed up the windshield, blocking the driver's line of sight. Next, he released a large amount of his web fluid from his shooters on the asphalt road in front of them. The moment the car's wheels ran over it, they got stuck, forcing the car to halt despite its speed. The moment he heard the click of the car being unlocked, he opened the door before the carjacker could and pulled the man out. Within seconds, the man was hanging upside down from a light pole, struggling to free himself.
"Who in the world is getting you people out, huh?" he asked. "This is like the third time I've caught you this week, Marco. Getting out on parole once, even twice, is understandable, but you've been arrested seven times just this month. How corrupt is our justice system?"
The man struggled while releasing muffled groans. He couldn't respond due to the web covering his face.
"Oh, my bad," he chuckled awkwardly. "You were pretty quiet for a while after I put away Hammerhead and his little cronies, who called themselves supervillains. What gives?"
"I'll answer that for you, Spider-Man." Before Spider-Man could remove the web from Marco's face, the patrol car had caught up.
"Officer Yuriko. I haven't seen you in a hot minute." Spider-Man spoke and saluted with emphasis. "How has your day been?"
"At ease, soldier," said the brunette with short hair and bangs. "It's been a little over a hot minute if I remember correctly. The last time we met was just after you'd busted Hammerhead as he was making an escape. You've gotten better at stopping carjackers since then. The only collateral damage this time was the dent on the roof of that two-million-dollar car. And probably its brakes and suspension."
"What the…two million? As in US dollars? This belongs in a museum, not on the road."
"Don't worry about it, the owner has insurance. The only reason we caught it so early was because it has a tracker."
"Great, another damage claim suit on the name of Spider-Man," he said, shaking his head. "What were you going to answer for me? About who keeps getting these thugs out. Hammerhead isn't free already, is he?"
"Nah, he's under the custody of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. For his stunt last year, they are going to keep him locked up for life. These guys are the bridge between the government and the Avengers."
"They sound like a mouthful," he said. "So who's taken over the power vacuum left by the man?"
"Wilson Fisk, he calls himself Kingpin. Hellfire Club, the Assassins and Thieves guilds, you name it. If it is affiliated with the underworld, he's got a controlling stake, minimum. He started making moves at the start of the year and has brought practically everything under his heel."
"Sounds a bit above my pay grade," Spider-Man said.
"You don't get paid."
"Exactly. I'll just help those I can, officer. I can't bring down the mafia," he said. "And I have no plans to be hired as a private contractor by the NYPD."
"Aww," she looked disappointed, but then smiled again. "You can't blame a woman for shooting her shot. Since Kingpin started acting up, Captain's been up everyone's ass at the precinct to extend an offer to you."
"You can tell him thanks, but no thanks," he said. "I'm more than happy being your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Anyway, I should leave. And thanks for the information, Officer Yuriko."
"I've told you a hundred times, just call me Yuri, dude," she said as Spider-Man shot up into the air and swung away.
…
"I've compiled the report on everyone, boss. This has everyone in New York that we need to keep notice of. They are ordered from the most troublesome to the least."
A hulking man who was almost seven feet tall stood in front of multiple screens as he took a folder from his assistant. He grunted in acknowledgment as his attention was stuck on the footage of Spider-Man talking to Yuriko Watanabe. It was captured by one of the city's cameras. The other screens also showed scenes of different heroes protecting the people from criminals. On one screen was Daredevil, on another, Iron Fist, and Jessica Jones working together to deal with an operation that he was planning to start in Hell's Kitchen. The screen with Spider-Man turned black as he swung away and was replaced by a platinum-blonde woman clad in a leather catsuit as she escaped from one of his legal pawn shop businesses with a rare jewel.
Kingpin opened the folder in his hands, and the person on top of the list was Spider-Man.
"Not too strong, but meddlesome," he flipped the pages and looked at the names of the people that he was just looking at on the screens. "If I want to control this city without the Avengers trying to meddle in my business, I need to keep these low-level heroes occupied. Killing them is too loud, not to mention expensive and risky. I don't want to turn into the next Hammerhead. It's better to spend that money to bail out small-time crooks to keep these guys occupied. This Black Cat woman could be hired. These ones could be the same…"
He arranged the papers into three separate piles before calling back his assistant.
"These ones," he said, handing the pile of papers with Black Cat's name on top. "Extend them an offer for employment. As for these, put up bounties on their heads. Their deaths won't gain undue attention, and the heat will be localized on the guilds and mercenaries."
"Got it," he nodded before pointing at the pile with Spider-Man's dossier on top. "What about this pile?"
"These are a bit more sensitive. We can't kill them because they are all on Shield's radar. We will keep them busy with small-time criminals so that they don't hamper my actual business. I will let you know once I formulate a plan for all of them."
…
Midtown High.
Peter Parker walked in through the gates as a senior. Amidst the excited bustle of friends reuniting after two months away from school, he could sense that everyone was distant. Not only from him, which was natural, but even from each other. The cliques and groups of the same people that had existed practically since primary school all seemed a little off, as if they all had things on their minds beyond just their friendships. Of course, they did. They knew that high school was coming to a close. They had to move on. Some of them had their minds on which colleges they would be going to. Some extra enthusiastic ones were already working on their applications. The jocks were all concerned about whether they wanted to go pro or if they wanted to get into a good university on a sports quota.
High school was already different from what Peter remembered. Of course, there were some specifically consistent things, like the blonde, well-built man wearing a varsity jacket who was walking right toward him, fully intent on bumping into his shoulder or maybe outright knocking him down.
Peter continued walking forward, pretending to be oblivious to Flash's plan as the jock deliberately bumped into his shoulder. He could've fought back, stood his ground, and pushed Flash right back.
But that wouldn't be a very Puny Parker thing to do now, would it?
Peter stumbled backward as Flash continued walking forward, though not before leaving a snide remark. "Watch it, Puny Parker."
"You seem stressed, Flash. Your push didn't have the same strength to it as usual. Performance anxiety?" Peter shot back at his age-old bully, who turned and gave him a scathing look but didn't turn to pick a fight.
"You okay, bud?" Peter heard a familiar voice beside him as a wide smile overtook his face.
"Harry, how are you?" He hugged his best friend of almost a decade at this point. "How was summer?"
"Same old, Dad took me on another world tour," he said. "I got to see top-class hotels in practically every country's capital."
"Just the hotels?" He asked.
"I was with my father. Of course, I saw nothing beyond the hotels. What about you? What did you do over the summer? Had another New Year, New Me episode?"
"What?" Peter asked, confused.
"There," Harry pointed at a blonde woman sitting at the fountain while looking into a small mirror and fixing her hair. "Liz Allen was sitting in that exact same spot when you asked her out and got laughed at last year. Wanna try again? Maybe things actually are different this time."
"You're never going to let me live that down, are you? I had people laughing at me about that for a month."
"Come on, do you really think you could make it with Liz? And that's not a dig at you. She has spent the past three years using Flash as her shield without doing anything substantial beyond looking good."
"I get it, she's on the path of becoming a trophy wife…yada yada" Peter said, rolling his eyes exasperatedly. "I really shouldn't have taken you to that psychology seminar. Now, you're a psych nut who keeps analyzing people. Anyway, where's Gwen? Isn't she usually here before us?"
"I don't know, I didn't see her," Harry said distractedly. "Woah, look there." He pointed at a red-haired woman who had just entered the foyer. She had her hair tied up in a ponytail and wore stylish glasses that matched her necklace and earrings. "MJ wasn't kidding about turning her life around, was she? Did you see that film she starred in?"
"I didn't get the chance," Peter said, glancing appreciatively at his ex-girlfriend. "Was it any good?"
"Was it any good?" Harry looked offended. "She blew it away. I checked things with my contacts, and she is apparently in talks with a major Hollywood director who wants her to star in a movie. What do you say? Do you want me to play wingman and help rekindle things between you guys? I think you guys worked really well together."
"Yeah, well, we may be compatible, but our circumstances aren't. I won't be anywhere near Los Angeles or Hollywood any time soon."
"Princeton isn't the only school that would want you, you know? Caltech's physics program is just as good, if not better. If you try, I'm sure they will give you the same scholarship as Princeton. Maybe something better."
"No need to sugarcoat it, Harry. Caltech has the objectively better Physics program. But I need to be near New York. Plain and simple."
Harry went silent at his words and sighed. "How's your aunt doing?"
"She's been full of energy ever since she joined this yoga class last month," he said with a laugh. "But that doesn't mean I can leave her."
"You can't commute from Jersey to Forest Hills every day."
"True, but I can do it at the weekends. Without spending hundreds of dollars on a flight across the country."
"Fine. I feel like an asshole trying to convince you to make the better decision anyway," Harry said. "Where the hell is Gwen? The assembly is about to start."
"I'll call her," Peter said as he pulled out his phone.
"Holy fuck…" Harry's words made Peter frown.
"Dude, language," he chided as he went to his favorites and tapped on Gwen's contact.
Harry responded to his remark by grabbing his face and forcing him to look in a certain direction.
"Woah…" Peter's jaw dropped as he looked at the woman who had just entered the school. It was a blonde woman with ocean-blue eyes who had her hair down with slight curls at the ends. She wore a blue sundress that complemented her eyes and revealed just enough skin that it was still within school regulations. She was looking around and frowned before pulling her phone out of her purse. Her eyes brightened when she saw the caller ID and picked up the phone.
"Hi, Pete. I just reached school. Where are you?" She looked confused and looked at her phone when she didn't receive a response. "Pete?"
"We're here, Gwen." Harry seemed to recover after an initial shock and raised his arm up in the air to beckon the blonde woman over. "If that is who you are…"
Gwen came up to them and gave Harry a smirk. "Who else would I be? A demon in Gwen Stacy's skin?"
"What happened?" Harry asked. "Where are your glasses? When did you start wearing dresses to school? And since when have you started styling your hair? The only time I've seen you this dressed up was at your father's swearing-in afterparty when he became the Chief of Police. And even then, you had your usual hairband holding your hair up rather than this natural style."
"What's up with him?" Gwen didn't address any of Harry's questions and looked at Peter, who still had his mouth open and was looking at her with wide eyes.
"I think he's in shock," Harry said with a laugh. "I'm pretty sure that you've got our queen bee thoroughly beaten."
"You think so?" Gwen asked, feeling a little self-conscious.
"That sour look on her face is more than enough of a statement in and of itself," Harry said as Gwen turned to look at Liz Allen, who was glaring daggers at her. "What prompted this?"
Before Gwen could answer Harry, a whistle sounded nearby, and she looked over Peter's shoulder, only to see Flash approaching.
"Holy~ Aren't you Stacy?" He called out while approaching her. "I'm throwing a party at my house tonight. Do you want to come by? You can also bring your friends." Peter was right in his path, and he raised his hand to push the man off. "Get away, Parker, I'm talking here."
Just as Flash's hand was about to touch Peter's shoulder, he stepped to the side and slid his leg backward, striking Flash's shin in a way that the jock immediately lost balance and fell to the ground.
"What in the…" Harry was now looking at Peter incredulously. "Did I miss some kind of self-transformation memo? What's going on?"
The school ground was completely silent as Flash scrambled to his feet with the help of his friend.
"It's okay, it's okay. I just slipped and fell, nothing much." He quickly turned to Gwen to extend his invitation again, but was interrupted by Liz as she stood in front of him with an angry look in her eyes.
"So you're throwing a party tonight, huh?"
"Babe…"
"Don't you babe me!"
"Train wreck," Harry commented before turning to Peter, who was at a loss for words as he looked at Gwen. "The great Peter Parker at a loss for words? It's a summertime miracle. You just ripped away his innate defense mechanism by dressing up, Gwen."
"Ugh, you still aren't over that whole psychology thing?"
"Of course not. In fact, I'm going to become a behavioral psychologist in the future."
Gwen gave him a look of dread before turning to Peter. "Earth to Peter. You alive?"
"Yeah, Gwen, you look different… I mean, you look good. Amazing even. Did something…um…happen?"
"How are you, Peter? How was summer?" Gwen spoke emphatically with a teasing smile.
"Oh yeah… I'm good. Summer was… fun. I got some nice exclusives of Spider-Man and helped May with bills," he said before adding mentally, 'also dealt with thugs as Spider-Man.' "You know, the usual. What about you? How are you doing?"
"I'm doing good as well," she said, internally amused as Peter fumbled around, looking like he was at his wits' end.
"What about your glasses? Did you get surgery?"
"Nah, I'm just wearing contacts. Surgery wouldn't work for me."
"How so?" Peter asked.
"My cornea is a bit too thin for laser surgery. It's complicated."
"I guess it's time to address the elephant in the room," Harry said. "What prompted this change, Gwen? Did someone call you ugly? Tell us we'll go and try to beat them up…and possibly get beaten up instead. But it's the thought that should count."
"Thanks for the support, Harry. But it's nothing like that," she said. "I just wanted to try something new out."
"This is great, now that Gwen's finally visibly beautiful, we'll be the cool kids," Harry said. "Flash and the jocks can suck it. Now, if only Peter and I could find some way to glow up."
Gwen chuckled at his words and grabbed both of their arms before pulling them toward the main building. "Let's go. Everybody has already gone to the auditorium. We'll be late."
…
As the day passed, Gwen continued receiving a lot more attention than she was used to, which made her uncomfortable due to her unfamiliarity with being the center of attention. And she was certainly the center of attention today. The one different thing was that no one approached her to talk after the first Flash incident. She didn't mind and was instead grateful that the only attention she received was nonverbal. Of course, it had something to do with how most of the people were busy thinking about their upcoming college applications.
Naturally, while the atmosphere around school was different, Flash and Peter's dysfunctional bully and victim relationship was solid and robust. Neither of them mentioned the incident in the morning, and Peter, as usual, dealt with the usual inconvenience with a sarcastic quip.
All in all, the first day of school was pretty interesting.
As Peter, Gwen, and Harry went outside, a limo was already waiting for Harry.
"Hey, Gwen, mind letting me talk to Pete for a bit?" Harry asked, grabbing Peter's arm. "Just for a little bit."
"Not a problem, guys. I'll just walk home."
"I won't let you wait long, Gwen," Peter said. "Let me walk with you."
"Sure," she nodded as Harry pulled Peter into the car and closed the door.
"What?" Peter asked Harry.
"She wants you to ask her out," he said. "Don't you dare fumble things here, you bozo?"
"What are you talking about?" Peter asked. "She just decided to dress up for the first day of school. How do you get from that to here? Especially after we've been nothing more than friends since like middle school."
"I'm telling you, Pete. She wants to ask you out. The indecisiveness in her eyes isn't from being unfamiliar with attention. She is the daughter of the fricking Chief of Police. She knows damn well how to deal with attention," Harry said.
"You're reading too much into this, dude," Peter said. "Stop overanalyzing everything."
"Trust me, she wants to go out with you," Harry said. "And going by how you kept not-so-discreetly discouraging everyone who tried to approach her, I'm pretty sure that the feelings are mutual. If anything, for the first time in like forever, I daresay, I get the vibes of possessiveness from you. From you! To think that Puny Parker could be possessive about someone. Seriously, man, go get her."
"I didn't discourage anyone…" Peter trailed off at Harry's look. "They were all accidents. People trip."
"I kept count, Peter. Don't make me air it all out. Gwen's a literal eleven, dude. She barely wore any makeup today and instantly overshadowed every single woman near her the moment she entered the school. Trust me, she likes you."
"You really think so?" Peter asked with a hint of hesitation in his eyes.
"I know so," he said. "Now go and ask her out. And don't fumble things. I don't want to feel like a child of divorce. I have enough family problems at home."
"I haven't even asked her out yet, dude."
"But you will," he said. "Now go. Before someone else does what you don't have the balls to do. Not that she would accept it if just anyone asked her out."
"All right, all right," Peter rolled his eyes and opened the door, stepping out.
"You had your secret boys' talk?" Gwen teased.
"Yeah…" The thought of asking Gwen out occupied most of Peter's brain power at the moment.
"You don't need to walk me, you know. I can go by myself," Gwen said.
"Nonsense. It wouldn't feel right for me to let you go home all by yourself."
"I get it," Gwen said. "If I'm wearing a hoodie and jeans, then it's fine if I walk home by myself, but I put on a sundress and suddenly, I need a man to walk with me at all times."
"What? No. I wouldn't let you… But…I mean—"
"Easy, Pete, steam's about to come out of your ears. I'm just teasing you," Gwen laughed. "I'm not someone else just because I put on a dress, wore contacts instead of my glasses, and styled my hair."
"Yeah, it's just… Different, you know?"
"Different how?" Gwen asked. "I'm still acting the same way. I'm still the same person. There's nothing different."
"I don't really know how to explain it," he said.
"Try," she said. "It's going to be a while until we reach my house."
"I don't know… I've never seen you wearing a sundress before. Hell, I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress before."
"You weren't at my dad's party," she said. "I even wore makeup at that time."
"Even when it's some school function, you don't dress up just to make a statement. Seeing you in this dress has completely thrown me for a loop."
"Do you like it?" She asked.
"It's gorgeous," he said. "Seriously. The moment you appeared, every single person was blown away."
"Yet not a single person tried to ask me out after you tripped Flash," she said, looking sad. "I thought I would be the center of attention."
"Did you want to be the center of attention today?" He said. "I thought that the constant looks were making you uncomfortable."
"You should answer my question first, don't you think, Pete?" She said. "Why are things different now that I'm wearing a dress?"
"I don't know what you want me to say, Gwen. Seeing you in that sundress makes me feel…a certain way," he said, running his hands through his hair. "I can't really describe it, but I don't want to let you out of my sight. Like ever."
"You don't?" Gwen asked with a smile.
"Doesn't that sound stalker-ish?" He asked.
"A little," she said. "But I like it. Especially after I saw you use so many tricks to trip people coming my way. Seriously, if you'd spent a fraction of that defending yourself, you would be even more popular than Flash."
Peter let out a nervous laugh. "You noticed, huh?"
"Once the eighth person near you trips spontaneously, you start to notice things," she said as she grabbed his hand.
He was at a loss for words as his mind raced, trying to come up with a response, not noticing Gwen's fingers interlacing with his as she tightened her grip. Unable to think of anything, he could only move to another topic. "You know my answer, what about my question? Did you want to be the center of attention? Why did you wear a dress today?"
"I can't want to look beautiful?"
"That's not what I said," Peter had gathered his bearings somewhat and didn't fall to Gwen's teasing this time.
"Well, I did want to feel like the center of attention…In a way," she said. "And going by how you suddenly turned into this possessive and protective guy around me, I think my purpose was fully accomplished."
"Is that so?" Peter said. "If you liked it, how would you feel if I acted that way most of the time?"
"I wouldn't hate it. As long as you don't make me wear a dress to school every day. I'd rather wear my regular clothes to school."
"Deal," Peter said, stopping as he tightened his grip over Gwen's hand and pulled her into his arms. "Do you… want to go watch a movie tonight?"
"Like…"
"On a date," Peter clarified. "Just the two of us."
"My curfew is ten o'clock in the evening," she said. "As long as I'm home before that."
"I'll come pick you up at around six, six-thirty. Does that work for you?"
"I'll wait for you."
"You have no idea what those words just made me feel."
"Like butterflies were fluttering in your stomach? Your heart skipped a beat? You felt a jolt pass through your body?"
"All of that and more," Peter laughed. "Come on, the subway station's still a few ways off."
They didn't let go of each other's hands for a single moment as Peter dropped Gwen all the way at her house, with a promise to come back in just a few hours. The moment she disappeared from his view, he shot toward the alley at the side of the building at an inhuman speed. Seconds later, Spider-Man shot up from the top of the building while letting out a loud whoop as he swung through the skies.
…
It was still a few hours before the date, so Peter decided to spend his time monitoring the police radio channels to hear about any crime happening in the nearby areas as he swung through the city with gusto. Having asked Gwen out, he was filled with excitement and the best way to cool himself down and blow off the steam was with a good fight.
"Well, it seems that it's my lucky day, a daylight jewelry store robbery," he spoke to himself as he changed directions and made his way to the crime scene. "With armed thieves to boot. This is going to be fun."
Soon enough, he heard the sound of blaring sirens coming from three patrol vehicles that were stopped in front of the jewelry store. The armed perpetrators had taken the two clerks hostage and were threatening to shoot if the police didn't let them free.
"Okay, this one's a bit of a sensitive issue." Peter didn't directly charge in and instead stuck himself to the wall in an inconspicuous spot. "I can't just charge in, one wrong movement and a person will die."
The situation was heated, but the police looked to be handling things decently well with the hostage situation. Ultimately, however. This situation wasn't because the perpetrators were desperate. They were already planning to use the hostages to bail themselves out. This dissuaded them from any attempts the police made to get them to free the civilians.
As the standoff continued, Spider-Man made his move at the most opportune time and shot three webs at the three perpetrators' guns, yanking them out of their hands. He landed immediately after and pulled both hostages away from the group of three before they could make any movements.
"Get out of here, now," he commanded before punching the disarmed man closest to him. He tried to block and move to the side, but it was impossible for a normal, untrained man to deal with Spider-Man's enhanced speed, strength, and reflexes. He dodged the punch, but Spider-Man simply swiped his arm and threw the man off his feet before kicking him down to the ground.
Suddenly, Spider-Man's Spider-Sense flared, and he jumped high up, sticking himself to the ceiling. A gunshot rang through the store moments later as he shot his web and took away the man's gun.
"Unnamed Perpetrator Number 1, down…" he spoke without as much zeal as usual as he shot multiple webs at the man whom he had kicked into the ground and restrained him. He came back down to the ground and quickly dealt with the remaining two without much banter. It was unusual for him not to tease people a little, but he felt like something else was afoot that he couldn't quite identify. It wasn't the overt danger sense that he got from his Spider-Sense, but more along the lines of an unsettling feeling that told him that something bad was about to happen.
"What's going on…" He spoke to himself. "At least let me go on my date with Gwen before something crazy happens."
As if on cue with his words, his Spider-Sense flared, but it was a bit too late. A sudden shockwave impacted him and slammed him against the wall, cracking the concrete.
"I think I broke something…" Spider-Man groaned out as in front of him, he saw a familiar face materialize. "Shocker? Aren't you supposed to be in prison? Are you teleporting now?"
"That attack must've knocked a few nuts loose in your head, Spider. I'm here to kill you." The suited man released a massive shockwave from his gauntlets that shook the store and broke the windows.
Spider-Man barely got out of the attack range in time and shot his webs at Shocker's gauntlets. "No, Herman, I'm pretty sure that you were in prison. I put you there. Remember?"
"Moron, you got nothing on me," he shrugged off the webs with a weak shockwave before smacking both gauntlets together. The ensuing shockwave spread all around and threw Spider-Man out of the store.
"Seriously?" He stood up with a groan and shot forward, sliding under the localized shockwave that Shocker tried to blast him with. He kicked the man's legs and pulled off one of his gauntlets just before a shockwave threw him away. "Thanks for the little gift," he said. "I don't know how you got out, but I'll just send you back there. No biggie."
Throughout the battle, the previous feeling of existential dread had only intensified, making Peter solemn as he tried to take care of Shocker as quickly as possible.
Shocker released a shockwave at him with his one remaining gauntlet, and Spider-Man retaliated by releasing a similar shockwave using the gauntlet that he had taken from the man. He quickly dashed forward, intent on taking down the man while still using the gauntlet he took to combat the shockwaves he released.
"I'll kill you, you bug!" Shocker had a crazed look on his face as he released a massive blast from his gauntlet, one that threatened to destroy their surrounding buildings completely.
"Please work…" Spider-Man released a shockwave of the same intensity, hoping that the opposing waves would cancel each other out. The following collision resulted in a massive blast that blew away everything in the vicinity.
When the dust settled, Shocker was nowhere to be seen. Unfortunately, Spider-Man was also gone, with no traces of where he might have disappeared. It seemed that he was there for one moment, and in the next, he was gone.
Apex 2: Battleworld Part 1
When he came to, his head was throbbing in pain. He staggered up to his feet and looked around, only to realize that he was in the middle of a massive crowd of people. It was impossible to gauge how big the crowd was from his position, but he immediately noticed Shocker, standing beside him. The man was also dazed and confused, so he quickly acted to take away the man's other gauntlet. Just as he was about to make contact with it, his hand was blocked by a bluish force field that became visible when he made contact with it. He tried to push through using brute force, but it was no use. The barrier seemed to surround him on all sides.
"This is an inconvenient situation," he spoke to himself while looking around for any other familiar faces. On his left, he saw a woman with a red mask on her head and horns that seemed reminiscent of Daredevil. She had also recovered and was looking at him curiously. "Hi…" Peter greeted. "I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Do you have any clues as to what's—" Peter stopped mid-speech when he noticed something that unnerved him to his core. Over the woman's shoulder, he noticed someone wearing the same Spider-Man costume as him, but without the mask. The man looked identical to him, down to the mole he had on his cheek.
"No clue," the woman didn't seem to care about his shock and responded coldly.
Peter was still in shock as he looked around for more such instances, but all he saw were unfamiliar faces. The feedback of existential dread that he was receiving from his Spider-Sense was currently dialed all the way up to ten, and every single instinct he had was telling him to get out of there no matter what.
"I am from beyond," a deep voice came from the sky, making Peter feel a chill deep in his soul as an unquantifiable sensation of pressure assaulted his mind. It compelled him to look up at the source without concern for his intent. High up in the sky was a crack in space that spewed glowing silver mist all around and scattered its white light all around with an intensity far beyond that of the moon at night. He couldn't quite gauge the exact distance from his position, but by an instinctive feeling he got, the crack had to be at least the size of the Earth length-wise. "You are my gladiators. Battleworld is infested with countless creatures that will try to kill you at every turn. Survive for one year, and you get to go home."
"What, no promises of glory, infinite power? Just survival?" Peter's mouth moved without much thought as the pressure of the foreign presence suddenly lessened immensely. "Can't we just hole ourselves—woah!" He suddenly recoiled as something appeared in his vision. It was a translucent blue box that had appeared right in front of his eyes with some text. "What's this?"
Name: Peter Parker | Spider-Man | Earth-26496B
Age: 17
Survival Rating: 0
Stats:
[Strength: 2.75/?
Endurance: 3.00/?
Durability: 2.80/?
Agility: 3.25/?]
Skills:
[Physical Combat Lvl3]
Abilities:
[Superhuman Senses Lvl1
Spider-Sense Lvl2
Wall-Crawling Lvl2]
When Peter blinked, the screen disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. Looking around, he could see that everyone around him also had that same screen appear in front of their eyes.
What's with those question marks beside my stats? And Earth-26496B? There's a literal clone of me to be here, and my Earth has some code assigned to it… There's only one reason that comes to my mind for this, and I do not like it. Especially in some sadistic death game arena thingy.
"Battleworld is many light years in radius," the voice came through the colossal spatial crack above them once again. "And the few trillion of you superpowered individuals here will be spread all around this world."
"Such a landmass is physically not possible…"
"So is having trillions of people here," the woman beside Peter said. "But it is what it is."
"Increase your survival rating beyond a hundred, lest you be purged at the end of the month." The incomprehensibly large spatial tear disappeared just as it had appeared, leaving the allegedly trillions of people in the crowd to their own devices.
"That does not sound reassuring," Peter said. "Do you know what those question marks beside my stats mean? Do I have infinite potential?"
"Seems like it," the woman spoke with such nonchalance that Peter assumed her case to be the same.
"Do you—" Before he could continue the line of conversation with the woman, she disappeared from his view, including everyone around him, as he was teleported away. "How rude, I was talking here."
…
The air was thick, humid, and pungent with the scent of wet earth, rotting leaves, and more. Tall grasses rose from the muddy ground, making it impossible to identify what parts of the ground were wet mud and what parts were solid. Large, tall trees were spread all around, leaving minimal space for light to enter through their canopy of leaves. Such a place should be rife with fauna, the croaking of frogs, the buzzing of unseen insects, and more. But it was all silent. Eerily silent. The water was completely still, with no wind to make the grasses and leaves sway. The marsh seemed to be paused in time, undisturbed by reality.
The sound of a loud splash broke that silence as it echoed through the area. A man wearing a red spandex suit had appeared out of nowhere in the air and landed on his feet, tight in the sticky mud.
"Oh, come on… It's not enough to interrupt my conversation, but you decide to drop me in the mud?" He looked around, observing his surroundings. "I don't suppose I'll find a dry cleaner anywhere here."
He didn't expect a response to his words, but the absolute silence around him was jarring and made him frown.
"This is supposed to be a marsh, right? Let alone actual fauna, I don't hear a single bug nearby," he said to himself, feeling like he was talking too loudly solely due to how silent his surroundings were. While looking around for any other living being besides him, he called up his status screen, as the god-like man called it. "Is this some kind of illusion? How does this work…"
After a while, he dismissed it and looked around once again, as if hoping that something would have changed in the past few seconds. The weight of the silence was far too much on Peter's shoulders as he felt a sense of desolation creeping in on him. The sheer concept of Battleworld was making a game out of people fighting for survival. All for the amusement of someone with too much power than he knew what to do with.
"Seriously beyond-god-crack-thing, someone needs to teach you about power and the responsibilities that come with it," Peter said before shaking his head and slapping his cheeks to hype himself up. "First things first. I need to find something to eat around here. And some way to filter out this disgusting marshy water. Then again, I have a feeling that even microbes might not exist here, and eating dirt would only give me minerals."
Suddenly, the ground shook intensely as a faint roar reached Peter's ears. He frowned and quickly jumped to a tree before climbing up to the top to see the source of all that commotion. As he reached up, a wry expression appeared on his face as he looked at the endless canopy of trees as far as he could see. The source of the minor earthquake and the roar was nowhere to be found, but he assumed that it was nothing good.
"The concept of a planet that is multiple light years in radius seems impossible to wrap my head around. How is the gravity here the same as that on Earth? I don't feel heavier or lighter. How is this place even being held together? So many questions. For a shockwave to reach this far, the source has to be something powerful enough to destroy the Earth many times over."
Peter knew that if he fell into contemplation, there were countless questions that he could ask. Ultimately, his priority was to locate a food source. And then, he would have to figure out a way to get his Survival Rating to a hundred.
"My web fluid!" He exclaimed at the realization. "I don't have the stuff to make webs here anymore. What a pain."
Not letting the setback discourage him too much, Peter climbed down from the tree and started moving through the marsh without any real destination in mind.
He may not have found something, but it didn't take long until something found him. He was simply walking through the forest, ignoring the mud that kept getting inside his suit and opting to save up on his webs since he had no way of making web fluid for the time being. The sudden flaring of his Spider-Sense made him jump as far away from his original position as he could and stick himself to a tree.
"Hey, I don't feel that pressure from my Spider-Sense anymore…" Peter spoke to himself, realizing that the previous feeling of existential dread had all but disappeared now.
The reason for his Spider-Sense flaring never really showed up, but it did flare once again as he swiftly jumped from one tree to another, trusting his instincts as much as he trusted his other senses. A cracking sound reverberated through the silent surroundings, and he noticed a gash appearing in the tree at his previous spot in the shape of three claws. There were no other signs of anything after that gash. It didn't hold on to a tree, it didn't fall down and touch the muddy ground, and it wasn't flying since the air was still enough that even the slightest disturbance would be clearly visible.
"Even if you're invisible, you've got to exist in reality. You aren't even turning into air, what the hell kind of monster am I—" He had to jump away again as his trusty Spider-Sense told him about another attack. This time, he tried to hit back and swung his leg down mid-air in the spot where he felt that the monster was most likely to be. His gamble paid off, and his leg made contact with the monster's back. Just that he released a pained groan right after. He quickly shot his web at another tree and pulled himself to it to examine his leg.
"At least you aren't too fast," he mumbled while looking at the three bloody holes in his suit caused by the spikes wherever he'd hit the monster. "I'm still completely out of my league here. What even is this guy?"
Suddenly, a blue screen appeared in front of his face.
Spike-Shelled Lizard
Combat Rating: 4
He only got a momentary glimpse at the name before his Spider-Sense flared, telling him that the lizard was right in front of him. He was quick to jump to another tree and shot his web at another to make even more distance from the monster.
"You couldn't have given me that information before?" Peter asked. "I wouldn't have kicked it just like that then. I can only hope that it wasn't venomous."
Instead of fighting the monster, Peter decided that running away would be the better option if he wanted to live longer than an hour in this place. So he turned tail and ran away. He didn't have the means to deal with such a creature right now, especially without a source of clean water or food, not to mention how he was rationing his remaining web fluid.
"Oh, how I wish I could just swing through the trees…" The three holes in his leg may have started to scab over, but the wound was especially painful since he was running on foot.
He must've run through the forest for multiple miles before sensing a second set of footsteps near him. He immediately concluded that it was another person and beelined toward them, almost desperate. He didn't think whether they could be an enemy or dangerous. He needed to work together with someone to survive. That was all that was on his mind right now.
Soon enough, the source of the footsteps came into view, making him slow down in his path as the other party also slowed down upon seeing him. The man wasn't wearing a completely identical suit to his, but there were obvious similarities like the large red spider symbol on his chest that expanded to cover his shoulders in red and form the outlines of his eyes on his head. Under the reds, the suit was all blue, the same color as Peter's.
"Are you supposed to be Spider-Man?" Peter asked hesitantly.
"You don't look too good," the man said with a deep voice, stopping in front of Peter as he extended his hand. "I'm Miguel O'Hara."
"Spider-Man…" Peter said, hesitantly grabbing the man's outstretched hand. The silence stretched on for a while before Peter realized the look that he was receiving from Miguel. "Peter Parker."
"What's the multiversal code for your reality?"
"What?"
"That little code beside your name. Earth something. What's that number?"
"Is it important?"
"Not really, it's just going to tell me if it's someplace I've been before or not."
"What's your number?"
"Earth-928B," he said. "It's not some big secret, kid."
"Earth-26496B," Peter said. "I get that the number is a thing, does the B represent something?"
"That it's a branched reality," Miguel said. "It was formed when a change was made to the main branch."
"Multiverse, huh…" Peter said.
"It's best you wrap your head around this as quickly as you can, kid," Miguel said. "Now is not the time to wallow in thought. Looking at that wound you have, am I right to assume that you got it from one of those monsters that the big crack in the sky mentioned?"
"Yeah," Peter nodded. "It was called a Spike-Shelled Lizard. It seems to have some kind of invisibility power that makes it impossible to detect without Spider-Sense."
"We should get moving now," Miguel said. "Before some other monster shows up."
"I think we're a bit late for that…" Peter said as he heard the sound of much heavier footsteps approaching them. "That's either the Hulk or a really big monster."
Miguel was quick to step back and took up a battle stance as the monster reared its head through the trees.
"Yep, it's Ape Hulk. Great. We're saved," Peter said sarcastically as he looked at an eight-foot-tall ape with red eyes that seemed to scream murder and bloodthirst. "What do you think it's called? Apzilla?"
Mutated Ape
Combat Rating: 3
"This is why I don't particularly like the Peter Parker Spider-Man. You are quivering in your boots and are making jokes to alleviate your fear."
"Hey, I'm seventeen. Cut me some slack," Peter shot back as he jumped up to a tree and stuck himself on it.
"This place won't," Miguel said. "If you want to survive, you have to step up. Go beyond that traumatized kid whose entire personality is a cry for help."
"Hey, you aren't my therapist," Peter said. "And you don't know me."
"I know more about you than you can even imagine, kid. I've met, investigated, and worked with more versions of Peter Parker than I care to remember. And practically every single one of you has the same issues. You would be fine on Earth, where there are people to bail you out of a sticky situation, but here, you will be eaten alive if you don't mature yourself."
"Thanks for the psyche lesson, but how about we instead take care of this ape guy? I would rather get back to looking for something to eat."
"Better that you learn to hunt for food now than later, kid," Miguel said. "The meat on that ape is enough to last us a couple of days."
"You mean like… kill it?"
"No, we're going to set up a campfire and tell each other stories while roasting marshmallows. Of course, we're going to kill it."
"If you say so, man…" Peter said.
"What? Are you going vegan? You need nutrients with your calories, you know?"
"It's not that. I like my meat as much as the next guy, but that doesn't mean I've dreamed of hunting for food."
"Yeah, I'd also like to turn that corner and find a well-stocked grocery store there, but we don't have that option here, do we?"
"You know, being so irritable all the time is probably not good for your heart. You're what, in your forties? You could get a heart attack if you're so stressed all the time."
"If you aren't going to support me, then keep quiet and distract that ape so that I can get a clean attack in. It's being cautious because there are two of us here. Capitalize on that. And I'm thirty-nine. Five years over twice your age."
"I swear I've solved that problem before in elementary math."
"Get to work, kid. I won't hesitate to leave you to fend for yourself. With that injured leg you've got there, I doubt you could go very far before something else gets you."
"Nah, you're too soft to leave me to die," Peter said with a smile. "I can tell below that hard exterior is a person who cares about every annoying and damaged Peter Parker he meets."
"Will you distract the ape, or not? It's not attacking us only because it has marginally higher intelligence and is considering whether it could win against two people."
"Fine," Peter immediately shot two webs at two trees around the ape before slingshotting himself forward. He saw the ape's eyes widen in slow motion as Miguel broke into a charge. It roared at him and swung its arm to block him from attacking, but Peter wasn't aiming for it. He raced past the ape's shoulder and shot a web at its outstretched arm and one at its back. It turned around to retaliate, but that was all Miguel needed to wrap a glowing crimson string around its legs and lash at it with his claws.
"Woah, you have claws?" Peter spoke, awestruck. Yet his movements didn't pause for a moment as he pulled himself toward the ape while yanking its arm away and kicking it square in the face—with his uninjured leg. In its outrage, the ape was about to attack, but before it could make any further moves, the older Spider-Man variant stabbed his arm through its chest, piercing his claws through its heart.
With a weak whimper, the ape fell down to its knees, unable to stay upright any longer as it slumped to the side with parts of its body into the mud. Peter's mask hid the sickened expression that he had on his face as he looked at the blood on Miguel's claws. Enough that he didn't even notice the brief notification that flashed across his vision.
"I understand that this might be hard for you, Peter," Miguel said with a soft tone. "But if we are to survive, this is what we have to do."
"I know," Peter said. "I'm not going to wallow in misery like some angsty teen. I can handle seeing a dead animal. Though I'm not sure if I'll be able to eat it without vomiting up my lunch."
"You'll get used to it," the man said. "Now help me haul it up. We need to look for some dry ground where we can set up camp. I'll get you patched up by then."
"Yeah, got it," he spoke with a nod and grabbed the arms of the ape while Miguel grabbed the legs, and they picked it up. "This thing probably weighs more than a ton. No wonder the system thing called it a mutated ape."
"Yeah, did you get any Survival Rating points for the assist? I got the kill, but your contribution was significant."
At Miguel's words, Peter recalled the brief notification that he had received from the system. He mentally called up his panel to check his survival rating.
"I got a tenth of a unit. What about you?"
"One point," Miguel said. "At least it takes the assist into account and not just the killing blow."
"Do you think every kill would get us a fixed number of points?" Peter said. "Hunting three to four such monsters each day isn't going to be easy."
"My theory is that the combat rating of each monster also plays a part," he said. "This one had a rating of three, close to the average of my physical stats. It may have factored that in when it calculated my survival rating. If it is a simplistic system, it probably assigned your actions as an assist and gave you a tenth of my score, or what you would've gotten if you were the one who got the kill. If it's more complicated, it probably factors in how much effort it takes a person to take care of these guys. All in all, it's probably not as simple as killing six to eight monsters a day."
"There are trillions of us spread all over Battleworld…" Peter said. "What do you think? Why is that guy doing all this?"
"On a good day, I'd say that he's just amusing himself by looking at mortals struggling and will either kill us all or send us back depending on what's convenient," Miguel said. "On a bad day, I'd probably say that he destroyed the multiverse and we are all that's left of our destroyed cosmos. And once we survive past a year, he's going to kill us all anyway."
"Way to make a situation sound completely hopeless," Peter said as his tone turned weaker. "Guess I should've called a rain check on that date. God, they're going to be so worried. What about you? You probably have kids, no?"
"I did…" Miguel nodded. "For a time. I'd rather not talk about it. Was it MJ you asked out?" The man seemed a little desperate not to talk about it, going by his abrupt shift in topic.
"Ignoring the fact that you totally sound like a stalker by calling out the name of my ex as if you know her personally…" Peter said as his tone turned slightly frustrated. "No. It was Gwen. Just when I felt that life was going perfectly. You know, no major supervillains trying to kill me and everything I hold dear, this bullshit with Battleworld happens. It's like I can't ever catch a break."
"At least she's alive, kid. Enjoy it while it lasts 'cause—I'm getting ahead of myself."
"What did you mean by that? At least finish your sentences."
"All right, this spot's good enough," Miguel said while standing near the base of a particularly large tree that had enough solid ground near it to serve as a safe place to light a fire. "First, find me some small rocks to serve as a base for our fire. I'll find and carve up some dead bark to shave some dry wood for our fire."
"We are so not done with this conversation," Peter said as he dropped the ape and started walking. "Because what? A world of misery awaits me? My world might not exist by the time I get back? Gwen might not be into men at all? Or all of them? You can't just stop speaking at such a point."
"Go and find us rocks, kid," Miguel said as he climbed up a tree.
Peter was grumbling, but a few minutes later, he had gathered a set of somewhat evenly sized rocks and put them around in a circle on the damp ground. Miguel came along with two thick branches tucked under his arm and many small shavings of wood in his hands.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"Making a circle with rocks?" Peter said with minimal confidence. "I've seen people do this when lighting a fire."
"Maybe at summer camp," Miguel said. "The rocks come after. We first need a flat and somewhat dry base if we're going to start a fire here. That's what these are for," he gestured to the two thick branches tucked under his arm. "Take these." He handed Peter the dry wood shavings and broke apart the branches to form logs that were somewhat evenly sized. Peter got the gist of what the man was doing and helped by doing nothing as Miguel placed some rocks around the logs to keep them from rolling away. He then had Peter drop the wood shavings over the logs and surround them with rocks. "These rocks are there to block the wind from blowing away the weak fire. Not that there's any wind to be worried about here."
"It's weird, right? No fauna, no wind, just a wet, humid marsh," Peter said.
Miguel didn't say anything as he arranged the wood in a small pile before bringing his hands together.
"Oh, I know this trick about lighting a fire using just rocks." Just as Peter leaned over to grab two rocks, Miguel smacked his claws together, resulting in an intense sparking that directly set fire to multiple of the light shavings.
"No need, kid," he said, coolly.
"So acting all cool and nonchalant is your defense mechanism, huh?" Peter said.
Miguel didn't say anything and shot a crimson web at a bunch of branches that he had placed at the side, pulling them toward himself. He arranged them around their fire to grow quickly.
"What is that? Nylon? Some kind of energy-based design like a lightsaber? How does that web work?" Peter asked a flurry of questions, only to be ignored as Miguel continued doing his thing. "Come on, man. I'm trying to make things work here. Give me something."
"What I'll give you is that you need to take this situation seriously, kid," Miguel snapped at Peter. "We aren't in a theme park. This is a matter of life and death."
Peter was silent after the reprimand and just looked at Miguel as the older Spider-Man worked to stabilize the fire. Once he was satisfied with the fire, he grabbed one of the thicker logs that he had brought and started carving into its center to make a rough-looking bowl.
"Did you ever meet a version of me who was with Gwen?" Peter asked after a while. "Why did you phrase it like that?"
"You still on about that?"
"It's just the way you said it makes me feel something more ominous is afoot."
"You have a keener intuition than most of your variants. I'll give you that," Miguel said. "And yeah, there was a deeper meaning to my words."
"What is it?"
"First off, since you are so woefully inexperienced with the ways of the multiverse, let me tell you about the Web of Life and Destiny."
"Sounds…spidery."
"It is," Miguel said. "Even I don't understand it fully, but from what I've gathered, it is like a map to the multiverse. Every single possibility, every single universe, all of them are dimensionally connected. The most likely reason for its existence is to facilitate higher entities when they wish to travel from one reality to the next."
"You don't know?" Peter asked.
"No," he shook his head. "The reason I believe that to be the case is because I was able to tap into it to travel to different universes across the multiverse. The way it facilitates my travels and acts like a literal map has led me to believe that its entire purpose was to chart out the multiverse. I don't know how it came to be, or what its true purpose is. But the Web of Life and Destiny is the source of all our power…and pain."
"No, a radioactive spider was what gave me my powers. It induced a mutation in my blood that gave me superpowers."
"Sounds like an awfully convenient explanation, doesn't it?" Miguel asked with a scoff. "If an induced mutation could truly give such powers to a person, then Captain America wouldn't be so special, would he?"
"What are you implying, Miguel?"
"The Web of Life and Destiny needs nodes. Spiders to look after it, connect it, make sure that it stays intact, and more. We are those spiders, Peter. Even if we aren't aware of it. We are the nodes of the Web of Life and Destiny for our respective realities. We represent them, like totems. And our lives are somewhat destined to go a certain way."
"You're not making any sense. What do you mean destined?"
"You always get bitten by a radioactive spider, Peter," he said. "A significant parental figure always dies. You always get plagued by an existential crisis that leads to you losing your powers. I call these Canon Events. These are events that every Spider-Man goes through. These events are always going to happen, one way or another. Try as a native might, reality will set itself on its correct course eventually. No matter the means. The only way to truly prevent such events is when external forces intervene."
"In other words, people from the multiverse," Peter said solemnly. "And what are these…consequences?"
"Your universe is disconnected from the Web of Life and Destiny, leading to it collapsing in on itself. If the spider responsible for its node stops maintaining it, the web weakens, eventually leading to the destruction of that reality."
"Encouraging…" Peter said dryly. "You said these were all your theories…"
"Theories backed by events and facts," he said. "I have personally seen entire universes collapse because Canon Events did not happen. Do not take them lightly."
"Well, lucky for you, I've already lost my Uncle Ben. As for that existential crisis thing, I'll deal with it when the time comes."
"You will, huh?" Miguel nodded. "What about the death of Gwen Stacy? Will you just deal with that as well?"
Peter went silent, not saying a single word as he took in Miguel's words.
"There's a little caveat with the Web, you see," Miguel continued. "There are certain designated people in the multiverse who can become Spider-Man. Peter Parker and his direct variations are the most common, but there are a few alterations in worlds where you are just…dead. Those are the worlds where we get Spider-Man in the skin of Miguel O'Hara, Miles Morales, in some unique cases, Uncle Ben, and… Gwen Stacy. Do you understand where I'm getting? The identities of these people are special, and they will die if they do not become Spider-Man."
"What if I give up my powers?" Peter suddenly spoke. "What then? Will that keep her safe?"
"I wouldn't recommend that in our current situation," Miguel said. "Honestly, you really need to move on from your martyr complex. With how extreme it is, you aren't far from self-harm."
"Answer me," Peter suddenly sounded agitated. "What if I give up my powers? Will that save her? Doctor Connors had a formula that could theoretically get rid of my powers. I just need to use it on myself. That will reverse my mutations and leave me as a normal person."
"Theoretically, it should work. As long as no forces from outside your universe intervene, it shouldn't be a problem. Things only get dirty when the multiverse gets involved. You have full rein over your reality. Of course, there is a chance that nothing changes and she still dies. Destiny is a stubborn bitch. If you were still Spider-Man, you might still have a chance. But if you permanently give up your powers, then a new Spider-Man should probably emerge to take your place. There's no telling if he or she will be competent."
"All theories, huh?"
"I have data to back my words up, kid. Canon Events have been interrupted by third parties in the past and have always led to the collapse of that universe. As for someone subverting a Canon Event without outside help or influence? Never happened—if it did, I've never come across such a reality. I've been studying the multiverse for years," Miguel said. "However…this feels different from the martyr complex that I'm used to seeing. It's her you'd give your powers up for, huh? I guess there's still some possibility of saving you."
Peter didn't say anything and looked to be deep in thought. While his facial expression wasn't clear since he still had his mask on, his body language was explicitly exuding that specific feeling.
"Turn away if you don't have the guts to see how I skin this ape," Miguel said after a few seconds as he grabbed the corpse of the ape and pulled it closer. "Butchering is not exactly pretty."
"I'll manage," Peter's words came out distracted and closer to a mumble than normal speech.
"This is why I didn't want to tell you these things," Miguel said. "The multiverse is…jarring, to say the least. But you just have to deal with it. Despite the occasional curveball that it throws at you."
Neither of them spoke for a while after that. Miguel skinned the ape and harvested anything that could be eaten. He then stood up and, with the makeshift bowl that he had made by carving into a thick log, went to scoop up some murky water from a muddy pond nearby.
"Once the mud settles, I'll transfer it to another container and we'll boil it."
"How? This is wood. We can't put it over a fire."
"Rocks can hold heat very well. We'll drop some of them into the bowl and let the heat naturally boil the water. It's not the cleanest method, but it's what we've got."
Peter nodded distractedly as Miguel silently continued dealing with things, occasionally getting Peter to help him with something or the other. Meanwhile, he bandaged up his wound after cleaning it with boiled water to prevent an infection. Though he had an inkling that there were practically no microbes in their environment. To create something so universally survivable, it was simpler to remove certain environmental factors than to modify them.
Eventually, night fell. Peter didn't have any mental capacity left to think about how the day-night cycle on such a massive planet would even work, and he didn't particularly care for the time being. Miguel's words were still ringing through his ears like a death knell.
After eating an unseasoned, somewhat flaky, and dry dinner, Miguel agreed to stay up for a while to keep watch while Peter got some much-needed rest. They would switch halfway through the night to let Miguel get some rest.