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….
Who else is there? Oh right, how could I forget?! Valkyrie, aka Brunnhilde! An aggressive, washed-up, Afro-descendant slave-trader and all-around menace with the superpower of "drinking continuously on the job", a true Hero of our time!
She is completely unnecessary to the plot, evokes nothing but disgust, and is essentially introduced only so a Strong, Independent, Black Female War Veteran, possibly a lesbian, can enslave a white, heterosexual male with a "true Aryan" appearance, and spend the rest of the movie tormenting men with impunity, regardless of their background, social status, personal moral qualities, or contributions to society.
So yes, we have another character who causes more than half the plot's problems, spends half the movie acting like top-tier narcissistic garbage, and pays absolutely zero price for any of it in the end.
This, naturally, breeds even more resentment in a rational audience, yet she emerges as a Hero simply because, well, she eventually "reformed" and helped out...
Oh, primordial spark of creation, then there's Wakanda! Its finest people are essentially high humans with the mannerisms of caricatured mobsters.
They have, without a hint of irony, spent their entire history considering all other people to be subhumans, including their immediate continental neighbors, whom they considered it beneath them to even protect from inhuman enslavement.
And they are also declared positive heroes who embody the best of their people...
Meaning, in a setting where they could have shown a normal, civilized state of adequate their people, they tell us that's what they did, but in reality, they painted a society of caricatured, thuggish thugs with Third Reich tendencies, set against a backdrop of hopeless barbarism... And all of this literally screams:
"Look at how these people are! Look at how they behave and think even when no one oppresses them and they have everything ten times better than any people or anyone else! See? See?! What dangerous, completely insolent freaks they are! Do you really want to give them equal rights and allow them real power? Really?"
And let someone try to tell me this isn't a conspiracy! It is a hundred percent a conspiracy!
"Listen, you wouldn't happen to have a bass guitar, would you?" crushed by the sheer scale of my revelation, I turned to the kid, wanting to confirm it once and for all.
"Uh... yeah, there's one lying under my bed," the kid replied.
"You sell crack?"
"Stop, stop! This is no time for jokes!" Parker stepped between us. The unshaven one in sweatpants. Judging by his eyes, he had come to the exact same conclusions I had. Even though he clearly already knew some of the facts, he was hearing it all put together for the first time too; still, he didn't want to blame the kid.
Spider-Noir had surely figured it all out as well. Aunt May and Mary Jane... were mostly preoccupied with learning the intimate details of their loved one's death and were clearly incapable of analyzing logical premises right now, barely keeping a lid on the natural emotions for such a situation. Peni, Gwen, and the Pig... they probably didn't get it, though they might figure it out eventually.
"No! My dad is a cop!" Miles exclaimed simultaneously.
"So you already secured a cover? A family enterprise, I respect that!" ignoring Parker, I continued to vent my stress.
"By the way," Gwen frowned, "that sounded very racist."
"You heard him yourself, he admitted to vandalism," I shrugged, simultaneously handing them the enchanted amulets I had crafted during the kid's story.
"Hey, graffiti is art!"
"It's art if you exhibit in a gallery, or, at the very least, paint landscapes, portraits, or animals on those walls. A stylized, 3D interpretation of an obscene word on a fence is vandalism. And you had some adult guy helping you with it..." I looked the kid up and down.
"Something tells me he's unemployed. Yet he occasionally goes on 'business trips' and lives relatively well..."
"How did you..."
"Oh, holy Stan Lee!.." I rolled my eyes. "Kid, it's such a stereotype... But let's leave that. What happened next? With maximum detail, please."
And he "told" us. Oh, it would have been better if he had kept quiet. Those were the most horrifying ten minutes of my life. Truly. Honestly. Even compared to what came before.
"..." Miss Stacy was also silent.
"Alright, let's start from the end. Instead of immediately going to Peter Parker's 'base,' you guys couldn't think of anything better than to break back into the Evil Research Institute of Evil to steal data for a new 'goober', because someone decided to go 'practicing' with an extremely fragile and crucial device in his pocket?"
"I... I didn't think..."
"I can understand Gwen," I finally started massaging my face. "She had no way of knowing about Spider-Man's base, who is Peter Parker. But you two?.." Opening one eye without taking my hand off my face, I swept my gaze over Parker and Morales.
"Ah, right, question withdrawn." The former definitely wouldn't have gone to disturb his aunt of his own free will, and the latter...
the latter is just a stupid teenage kid whose plot role, if my theory holds, is to cause all the problems, then "reform" and apparently help everyone in the end so he can... so he can, yes, replace the real Spider-Man
"Listen, who exactly are you if not a Spider?" Stacy brought the conversation back to one of the initial topics, squinting at me.
"I am the God of Magic from a parallel universe. I have a good friend who runs a school for mutant children, where they are helped to understand their powers and given a good education. You probably have him in your universes too, his name is Charles Xavier. At the time, I was studying the blood of a potential student, an eight-year-old boy named Peter Parker. And then, at one fine moment, a portal opened right under his blood, and I was sucked in."
"It's kind of hard to believe a god can just be sucked into a portal like that," Gwen raised an eyebrow skeptically.
"Take all your complaints to Christianity, it messed with your heads, substituting all possible concepts and definitions for commercial interests. By the way, very young lady," I turned to Peni, "you never answered my question about eating and going to bed."
"Hey, I'm already fourteen! I can decide for myself when to go to sleep!" the robot owner objected indignantly.
"And I'm over a thousand, and I know a sleep spell..." I wiggled my eyebrows.
"Gr-r-r..." she pouted. Well, yes, everything is so interesting here, and she's being sent to beddy-bye. "I won't!.." Peni started to protest again, but a traitorous wave of yawning overtook her. "Fine, I need to sleep," the anime girl surrendered, her shoulders slumping resignedly.
"We won't start without you," I assured the offended little girl.
"Promise?"
"Promise, promise..." I nodded.
"Okay," and with a parting nod, she finally headed toward the rest area of the Batcave, tactfully dodging the topic of dinner. Oh, these female predilections for diets.
"So..." Miles timidly drew attention to himself, apparently deciding the storm had passed, "what... are we going to do?"
"We were just planning to make a goober and pay a visit to this Fisk after resting," Spider-Noir answered with dignity, adjusting his wide-brimmed hat.
"I suggest we draw lots to determine who stays behind to blow it up," Gwen proposed, looking seriously at everyone.
…
If you want to read ahead by 20+ chapters from here you can visit my Patre-on.
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