Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

M.J. was sitting watching TV. Today marked exactly one year since a superhero had shocked the world in the craziest way possible.

" Exactly one year ago, a unique event took place in the city with the most superheroes. The now-deceased former superhero Spider-Man managed to arrest his entire gallery of villains in a single day. An investigation proved that the spider-man superhero was active from 1 a.m. until the moment of his death in the explosion at midnight, the main cause of death is that he is extremely tired from fighting all day. The explosion was fatal, causing his death. " The presenter showed the image of all the criminals arrested by Spider-Man.

" Although he lost the original Spider-Man due to his own success, Scarlet Spider is doing a great job of honouring the work of the former Spider-Man— " M.J turned off the TV and looked at the dinner table, where Peter Parker, the former Spider-Man, was marking some exams.

" So... " She drew attention to the fact that she was completely focused on correcting the tests.

Peter Parker hit him. Spider-Man, whom everyone thought was dead, had actually faked his own death. Now, he was just a science teacher.

" So? What " He asked while still focused on finishing grading the students' papers.

" All your superhero friends think you're really dead. You really managed to cheat death " M.J. asked as he continued grading the papers.

" My reputation among the others was already bad, so my death was not a problem. The fact that only Ben and Cindy know that I'm alive reassures me that I won't encounter many problems. " He replied, focusing on his work.

M.J. got up and slowly walked over to the table where he was working. His spider sense was tingling, and he knew he didn't need a sixth sense for that.

" little upset about the Superior Spider-Man event,? "

" I'm angry at the treatment I've received over the years. If I started killing today, everyone would be after me. But when it's that fat girl with a midget fetish, nobody says anything " His anger exploded and his spider-sense activated unconsciously making him push the papers away and the pen he broke in the strength of hatred.

Peter looked at his ink-stained hand.

He let out a sigh of disappointment.

" Here " His wife handed him a box of napkins which he used to wipe his hand.

" Thanks " He thanked her, letting out a sigh of disappointment at himself for losing his temper.

M.J realized that there were three stages in her husband.

The first evolution occurred in his early years as a superhero. He was always trying to improve and be a better person, prioritising responsibility over his own health. His main motivation was his aunt's health.

After his body was stolen, a small part of his consciousness took control when he got his body back. However, this part was influenced by Otto, which made him appear a little dim-witted and childish.

He found himself in the third one, after his soul had returned to his body. Doom had tried to take the Infinity Stones, and the Fantastic Four needed his help. When he touched the soul gem his soul returned to his body where he was completely changed.

He was angrier than ever before, although he could not remain rational in his anger, but his life regarding his colleagues changed a lot.

He saw X-Men, Avengers and Fantastic Four as failures.

Living proof of this was when he faked Spider-Man's death.

Thanks to Deadpool, he knew that only Logan and his daughter felt the weight of his death, Emma went into denial claiming he was still dying while the rest considered him an animal who deserved to die. Because he was irrelevant.

Avengers... Can be the most powerful but not the coolest.

Captain America felt enormous sadness when he learned that he had died, showing that the one who carries the symbol and name of the American flag had with passion.

Thor wished that he rest in the Norse paradise with other warriors.

Carol just accepted, she had broken up with him when he left without telling him.

Hulk, who was not part of the Avengers, was saddened by the loss of his friend.

The other heroes who had a strong connection with him were sad, but Tony Stark just ignored them and said he would come back to life in two weeks.

Miles need a week to accept this, he saw the Peter Parker of his reality die and now his teacher also died in an event that left his name marked.

Fantastic Four was in another reality.

Peter himself wasn't surprised. Mutants didn't care about someone who tried to help mutants themselves. After all, he was already expecting the collapse of this mutant society. Forcing the Apocalypse to live with his enemies was a great idea.

Avengers surprised him with his lack of empathy and ignorance of Tony.

New York was somewhat shaken by Spider-Man's definitive death. 6 months waiting and he comes back even when Ben became Spider-Man again, people believe he was the original Spider-Man but when he revealed that he was the brother of the original Spider-Man People accepted that Spider-Man died, this caused such a big effect that J.J.J died of a heart attack.

' He was just happy that the police got a grip on themselves and started being stricter ' Due to his death, the police began acting as vigilantes and started eliminating officers involved in crime.

They adopted the approach that prevention is better than cure.

The original Spider-Man would remain dead while Peter Parker would go on to help people in other ways, as a teacher, he would encourage young people to think for themselves. Even the most ignorant person would notice that this is something that is wrong. He would help children without the minimum basic social education to live in society.

He is not fighting crime but he would be shaping children for a golden dawn.

He let out a sigh and threw his head back and saw his wife smiling at him.

" Haven't started making those Japanese anime faces again " Said and done.

M.J filled his cheeks.

Peter started laughing and she pulled your cheek.

She held his cheek and gave him a kiss on the lips, she was happy that the love of her life had finally come back to her again.

Chapter Text

For someone who has a cast of villains that borders on the ridiculous.

 

But it's funny when the villain is like Spot the decision was to get serious; things had gotten out of control. Spot didn't fall for the incredibly bad jokes and this triggered something in Spider-Man, making him become serious something that even surprised Spot himself.

 

Spider-Man changed his style, becoming more stealthy and using the portals to get closer to Spot, a smart strategy but still Spot noticed that Spider-Man would suddenly stop for a few seconds as if his brain was taking too long to process it.

 

"It seems someone is limiting." Spot had lost sight of Spider-Man, but his portals sensed his presence coming from behind him, and he heard the sound of webbing.

 

The web was heading towards the white part of Spot, which would be the only place where it could reach Spot without being affected by the portals.

 

The plan was a success but unfortunately, a portal appeared beneath the web, pulling him.

 

"I don't know who you think you are, but one thing's for sure: you're not the Spider-Man I know." The portal swallowed Spider-Man before he could even think, sending him crashing face-first into a building.

 

A great counterattack, Spider-Man is thinking of getting up to make his attack when another portal appears behind him, pulled him again and this time he left in a different place because the sky was dark.

 

He let out a cry of pain his back had been pierced, He had fallen onto an iron wall with sharp points he couldn't see if the iron was rusty.

 

Why did another portal appear and pull him in again?

 

His spider-sense was trying to help, but it was impossible to know where he would come out, he didn't have the necessary reaction time to do anything, and when he was hit, the portal quickly appeared to catch him.

 

We can describe this as stepping into an endless abyss.

 

He was already very weak, falling incessantly and crashing into increasingly hard objects.

 

He was somewhere completely white, falling into void. He was already unconscious; it was only a matter of time before he fell to his death.

 

In an act of desperation, his subconscious shot him into a web to save himself.

 

The portal closed before he could even reach it, and just as the web began to fall. But his salvation came when something resembling a metal web caught his web. The liquid metal began to spread through Spider-Man's web until it reached his wrist.

 

He was being pulled through the portal, but his salvation came through an angel.

 

An angel with green hair and eyes, possessing 12 golden wings, holding Spider-Man in his arms, the metal web dissolved along with Spider-Man's web.

 

Like lightning, he ascended to the heavens with his friend unconscious and injured by the portal, but somehow Spot managed to make the portal grow and increase its strength.

 

The angel stopped and turned with a serious expression, he pointed his hand towards the portal and a powerful ray of light shot out from his hand.

 

Several police officers were shooting at Spot, who was walking calmly.

 

"It's like a walk— Hm?" Spot turned, sparks flying around him, then he looked up, and a powerful lightning bolt struck him, making him scream in pain.

 

The police officers were horrified the villain is electrocuted as if he were in an electric chair.

 

While Spot was being electrocuted, the lightning grew even more powerful and this was evident when another, wider lightning bolt emerged and delivered a powerful blow that caused a shockwave so strong it threw the police officers away.

 

Everyone fell to the ground and the cars were thrown far away; where Spot should have been, there was now a crater made by lightning.

 

"Damn, Thor was furious." One of the police officers of Nordic descent said.

 

"Thor? He's more like Jesus than Thor." A policeman with skin as black as coal said.

 

"What's up, guys? They said Jesus exists." A brown-haired police officer said as he helped his colleague to rise.

 

"If aliens can exist, why can't Jesus?" A police officer of indigenous descent asked.

 

—

 

Like a flash of light, the angel arrived at its destination.

 

A train stopped in the infinite void as soon as the angel arrived at the edge of the door the doors opened by sliding to the side and like a flash of light he walked down a long corridor until he reached the train's medical area where his colleagues were waiting.

 

In front of them was a regeneration machine positioned diagonally, the glass slid aside, allowing the angel to place Spider-Man inside the machine. His clothes were practically destroyed the angel then ripped off his shirt, mask, and gloves.

 

Now half-naked Spider-Man was inside the recovery machine, where wires began to connect to his body arms, back, all the way to his brain.

 

Facing Spider-Man, a team of humans were searching for extremely advanced computers, everyone ready to save Spider-Man.

 

If they didn't waste any time and started injecting alien substances into his body, some of which were victims, to make his body even healthier, artificial white blood cells were injected into his body to enhance the healing process.

 

Nanomachines were placed inside his body; they even asked Kai the warrior of the starry sea. It controls the water inside the body to make your heart beat faster.

 

"Why is nothing working?" The doctor in charge, a Frenchman who looked like a mad scientist, asked an angel.

 

"His healing ability was improved to the point of reviving, so why isn't it working?" The leader of this group was a blond Italian with long hair and brown eyes, with a scar on his right cheek.

 

The angel began typing rapidly, analyzing each piece of data that appeared before him. He needed to know why Spider-Man wasn't awake.

 

"He has no soul." The angel's words shocked the others; it was impossible for him not to have a soul.

 

"How is it possible that he doesn't have a soul? Even empty people have a soul." The sound dragon said, not believing Spider-Man didn't have a soul.

 

"Otto." The angel said angrily that the fat man had broken one of the laws of nature. "When they were forcibly transferred between bodies, their souls were also transferred. The body of the fat man with tentacles died, and because he had a soul in the wrong body, he didn't go to Heaven or Hell."

 

"So where is his soul?" The Italian asked, looking at Spider-Man, who was unconscious, and then at the angel.

 

"I know where it is and I'm the one who's going to get it." The angel turned around and left the medical area, leaving everyone confused. "Riccardo, keep him alive, it won't take long."

 

The angel leaving his colleagues confused but the bip sound made Riccardo look at the machine. Spider-Man's vital signs were fading; without his soul, not even advanced technology could save him.

 

Riccardo was Italian, seeing that Spider-Man's vital signs were dropping, he walked towards the life support machine. Riccardo's eyes, which were brown, turned red but it didn't stop; a golden light appeared behind his head and then a halo appeared above his head. However, it was not a simple golden circle. Its halo had roses and thorns, and in the center was a circle that resembled a moon.

 

He raised his right hand, a golden light emanating from it, enveloping the machine where Spider-Man's body lay, and the sounds of his vital signs began to increase.

 

"How long can you keep him alive, Boss?" A young man dressed all in white asked his boss Riccardo.

 

"I really don't know." Riccardo was making a risky bet.

 

Given so many mythologies, why doesn't anyone attack each other? Simply because there's a need to bring order to the house and prevent everything from being destroyed because of ridiculous fights.

 

God's angels were strong.

 

Lucifer and Michael were very strong, but there was one.

 

No, Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is God himself.

 

But an angel, the firstborn of angels, the most stubborn son of God.

 

He opened a portal between dimensions with his own hands, arriving at the place where the panther goddess used to watch over her servants in Wakanda.

 

The panther goddess looked at the angel who invaded; he took control as if it were nothing and continued walking with his head held high with a shadow in her eyes.

 

"Angel, how dare you invade my domain—" The panther goddess couldn't finish speaking because she was attacked by the angel.

 

God's most stubborn son grabbed the panther goddess's neck very tightly.

 

The panther goddess was gigantic compared to the angel, but size doesn't necessarily mean greater strength, so the angel threw the panther goddess to the ground of her "palace."

 

Golden chains bound the goddess, leaving her shackled to the ground.

 

The angel walked toward her head to look directly at her. The panther goddess saw her attacker, and when she looked into his eyes, she was paralyzed with fear. His green eyes were emitting rays, but they weren't coming from inside his eyes; instead, they were inside his eyes.

 

"Remember your place, pagan goddess. Remember that I am the one with the most authority after Father. I could destroy all your people, but my father gave you the right to life; that doesn't make me want to take it away." Cold as ice, deadly as a blade forged by the finest blacksmith, these were the words of the most stubborn son, the one who was lying down from Jesus.

 

"I have matters to discuss with your brother. If you get in my way—" The angel spread its wings, the stars in the place where the goddess used to be shone golden, and where there should have been stars, there were now spears. "You die."

 

He disappeared like a lightning bolt that tore through reality once more in search of the one who was supposed to keep time and realities stable and balanced.

 

Spider God, Anansi

 

The angel crossed dimensions to reach the place where the web of life was located, but surprisingly or not, the place was a complete mess. The numerous webs represented timelines and the knots in the webs represented a universe; the place that was supposed to write the fate of mortals was a true hell, everything was disorganized.

 

"ANANSI!" The cry of rage calling the name of the one in charge of his father, responsible for protecting the destiny and balance of alternative realities.

 

The spider god heard his name called and slowly turned to the angel, who was visibly furious about it.

 

"Hey~... You weren't dead?" The god raised an eyebrow, for the angel before him must be dead; the spider god himself had witnessed his death.

 

"Don't be retarded, Anansi. What the hell happened to this place?" God's most stubborn son opened his arms, looking at the mess this place had become, but he was also searching for the center. "These are anomalies! You let mortals tamper with the timeline."

 

"These are alternative timelines, they don't cause anything bad." Anansi turned his back on the angel, who wasn't angry; he was already losing his temper because this place, where fate was decided, was a hell.

 

"These are temporal anomalies, Anansi, you know very well!" The angel realized that the god did not want to take the blame for failing in his work, but the angel didn’t finish speaking. "Those worlds shouldn't exist; this is all out of control. If this continues, realities will collapse."

 

Anansi bit his lower lip because he knew it was true, and he had seen it for a long time, but he had done absolutely nothing to stop it. Now that he’s gone to solve the problem, but who says he's succeeding?

 

"You know the reason for this? Don't you know? You neglected your main totem! You didn't allow the spider that gave him his powers to have the web of life, and now you're suffering the consequences because of your irresponsibility! How could you let a fat guy switch souls with your main totem?" The angel was furious with the spider god because of his irresponsibility.

 

"Just like when his Father made that mortal—" Anansi was already quite annoyed with his own problems.

 

"Don't you dare compare what my father did to what you did with your main totem! You've stagnated his life, he looks like a teenage boy retarded in the body of a 40-year-old man, you literally didn't let him act like a grown responsible man." The angel began to breathe; he was losing control of the situation, his emotions were talking louder.

 

"You're starting to sound like a character from an Anansi comic book. Not letting your own self-improvement mature. Ruining his marriage, constantly bringing back to life his enemies who should be dead, aunt him! That old woman shouldn't be among the living anymore. The body swap was the last straw! How could you let this happen! The soul of your totem is here, not its body! If its soul had been in its body, none of this would have happened!" God's most stubborn son did not have complete access to omniscience, but he could know things just by looking at them.

 

Anansi bit his lower lip until it bled. He could do this, but there would be terrible consequences; there was even a chance his own totem might come after him to kill him. Not only would all of Earth-616 be affected, but other Earths and timelines as well, by the power of the main totem.

 

The angel took a deep breath and looked seriously at Anansi; their destiny wasn't written, but the most stubborn son would write it in his own way.

 

"Anansi. I am removing you from your position as god of the web of life." The spider god turned to face the angel of God, who had a serious expression on his face, showing that he wasn't joking; he was serious.

 

"Peter Parker. He will assume his position from now on as soon as he leaves his mortal life. By the right given to me by my father, I am revoking your divinity due to your INCOMPETENCE!" Anansi was surprised that God's most stubborn son, not known for wielding authority as one of the most powerful beings, could still be judged by the Living Court.

 

But even the Living Court itself could yield to the orders of God's most stubborn son, and now, faced with all the requirements of the universe, that day God's most stubborn son would use his authority to erase a god.

 

"You can't do that!" Anansi would not accept losing his position as a god; that was inconceivable.

 

"Test me." The angel said, challenging Anansi, ready for a fight.

 

Anansi had already lost his temper and quickly advanced towards the angel, using a web. He launched himself against the angel; he quickly raised his left arm to defend himself, but Anansi's punch struck the angel's forearm.

 

The angel grabbed Anansi's forearm with his other hand and threw the African god away.

 

Anansi extended his right hand, and shimmering webs emanated from his fingers, eventually forming a web that represented a timeline, and Anansi's webs coiled around him, and then he pulled himself up.

 

Anansi swung upwards, and when he reached a considerable height, he did a backflip, curled up, and began to spin until he fell into a web. He searched for the angel but found nothing; his own spider-sense activated, showing him that he was about to be struck in the back by a lightning bolt.

 

He turned and crossed his arms, creating a shield of webs that shone with the purest white; then the attack came but missed. The attack went right past Anansi, who lowered his defense and felt a kick right in the stomach.

 

The angel gave a kick to Anansi's chin, sending him flying upwards. Anansi kept throwing things far away, as there was no ceiling in that place because that space is literally infinite, so— Anansi was throwing himself several meters into the air before the angel then appeared directly above Anansi and struck him with a hammer blow using his hands.

 

Anansi refused to play this game.

 

He shot webs, creating a net where he landed, but he held on so as not to be swept away. Anansi then shot countless webs, creating a wall of webbing.

 

The angel stopped his advance upon seeing that enormous web-like wall, which was as strong as a planet.

 

The angel raised its right arm and crossed two fingers, and small fragments of metal appeared around it and began to spin at the speed of light.

 

The destruction was quick and effective, but Anansi had already fled from the attack.

 

The angel realized that Anansi was behind him.

 

Anansi would immobilize the angel and inject his poison—

 

"That's enough of this retarded joke." The angel appeared before the spider god, grabbing his face with his right hand.

 

Anansi tried to break free but couldn't do anything at all; the angel's strength was immense, it looked like an ant trying to carry a piece of steel.

 

A hurricane of metal and wood tore the spider god apart until absolutely nothing remained; its very existence could never again exist—this was a fixed concept in the universe.

 

The angel felt nothing after that, absolutely nothing.

 

He let out only a sigh of exhaustion; he had taken a life, something he hated doing. The only one who had awakened his hatred was his brother Lucifer.

 

His own father said that even pagan beings have a right to life.

 

And he had just taken a life.

 

He shook his head, pushing away annoying thoughts for now. His time was running out. Flapping his wings again, he advanced toward the center of this chaotic place to set things right.

 

That place full of cobwebs wasn't difficult to cross at all. His sixth sense kicked in; he felt a very powerful sacred energy. Peter Parker's soul, Spider-Man, was close—very close. He flapped his wings again, heading toward the center of the great Web of Life where his friend's soul was.

 

In this universe shrouded in webs, the angel was surprised; in the distance, he saw a golden pillar that connected to all the webs of this place. It was like a bird flying toward the sun.

 

"It really is a main pillar," he smiled at what seemed ridiculously poetic.

 

Inside the pillar lay the soul of Peter Parker, sleeping in eternal slumber. Alma didn't have many distinguishing features, just a humanoid with masculine body characteristics, a muscular body.

 

The angel approached and touched Peter Parker's soul pillar, beginning to pull something from within him. And where there should have been a soul, there was a spear.

 

The spear that pierced God's body while He was on Earth.

 

The angel stretched out his arm and opened his hand, and the spear came to him.

 

"Hello, Longi," he smiled at the spear, which gleamed in response.

 

He used the spear to tear through the air and return to the train where his friends were waiting for him. His colleagues were surprised by the angel's sudden arrival, with some of them even jumping from the fright that the angel caused them.

 

Riccardo was so focused on keeping Peter Parker alive that he didn't notice the angel's arrival. It was then that his body sensed the presence of the sacred spear, and he turned his head and saw that the angel had returned with God's spear.

 

Riccardo stopped using his saintly powers and gave space for the angel to pass and calmly go to the machine where Peter Parker was sleeping, practically dead.

 

The glass slid to the side, and the machine pushed Spider-Man's body forward slightly, but his arms and legs were secured to prevent him from falling.

 

The angel pointed the spear at Spider-Man's chest and then plunged it into Spider-Man's chest where his heart was. A blinding flash of light enveloped the others while the angel remained unmoved. As soon as the spear made contact with Spider-Man's body, it disintegrated and entered Spider-Man's body—the place where the spear should be—and now it returns and gives back to mortals the soul it protected for so long.

 

The light faded, and there was no longer a spear in the angel's hand or embedded in Spider-Man's body.

 

For a moment the crew members were paralyzed, not knowing what they should do, but upon hearing the sound from the monitor displaying Spider-Man's vital signs, everyone relaxed.

 

The angel let out a sigh of relief. He looked at Riccardo, who was visibly surprised. "Riccardo, I ask that you please help him deal with his frustrations. There are many. For now he needs to rest, and so do I. I've reached my limit, I need to return the controller to Rodrigo." The angel's body began to glow a pale, neo-green color, and then it split into two beings: a human who was Brazilian and a green cat.

 

The human named Rodrigo fell to the side, but Riccardo caught his friend before he could hit the ground. The green cat, as soon as they separated, was already on the ground and was picked up by a young man wearing a very elegant white suit.

 

Riccardo picked up his friend in his arms and then looked at Spider-Man.

 

He turned to his colleagues.

 

"Let's let them rest. Let the system monitor them, at least for now." That was his order: let them both rest, and everyone complied without any problems.

 

The passage of time was unknown.

 

It's never possible to know the time while in space, especially in a space between dimensions.

 

After all, time is relative.

 

Let's get to the most important thing: Peter Parker was lying in a hospital bed, completely unconscious. The return of his soul caused a change in his body, something that shouldn't have happened, but as soon as his soul returned and the rest of his consciousness was also restored…

 

He was older. This was a result of his soul and consciousness returning to their original state; the stress on his body caused him to experience hair and beard growth.

 

There were three stages of Peter Parker:

The first one before he lost his body to Otto.

The second stage was when his consciousness took full control of his body, but over time his consciousness was getting weaker to the point where his villains' claims were true, so much so that his body had left him with a more "childlike" face.

 

Now the third stage had begun, where Peter was finally 100% back, but also his body had changed due to stress and now corresponded to his current age.

 

He was unconscious for a few hours, but his body looked like he had been in a coma for five years.

 

He opened his eyes for a fraction of a second, and his eyes already began to hurt. He covered his eyes with his hands to block out as much light as possible, just like a vampire.

 

His body began to adapt, and he realized this when his spider-sense triggered something unusual—warning that there was no danger and that he could open his eyes.

 

He had no idea where he was.

 

The first thing any living being does is look around, searching for something familiar.

 

His eyes widened when he saw Rodrigo sleeping beside him, which quickly caught his attention; he knew him well enough to know that very little could tire him out.

 

He noticed clear signs of exertion beyond his limit and, of course, the oxygen mask, but other than that, he was out of danger.

 

His spider-sense went off again, but it wasn't an alert—rather another warning indicating that someone familiar was arriving.

 

The door opened and Riccardo arrived. He was wearing a white sleeveless shirt, red shorts, and green sneakers.

 

"How are you feeling, Peter?" Riccardo approached Peter, who was still trying to understand what was happening.

 

Peter remained silent.

 

"I'm not going to lie, I don't know what you're going through. It must be hell, losing a part of your life and then having it ruined." Riccardo didn't know; he was worried that with Peter's soul far from his body, he might develop serious depression problems.

 

"Sigh I lost 10 years of my life, Riccardo." Riccardo was shaken when he heard that.

 

Riccardo closed his eyes and clenched his fists in intense hatred.

 

"We forgave you, Peter… we had no idea this had happened to you." Riccardo was feeling so bad for not being able to help his friend who had lost 10 years of his life—his identity.

 

"I don't blame you. You guys are from another reality, and there was no way you could have known. You didn't live with me—unlike the others." He was really reconsidering all his friendships. What they didn't do was a joke.

 

Otto said he was fooling everyone perfectly.

 

This showed how much his longtime friends cared about him.

 

He had fits of rage, but he would never leave criminals on the brink of death.

 

Riccardo looked at his friend, who seemed sad and disappointed.

 

"What are you thinking of doing?" Riccardo was already imagining what Peter would do.

 

"Nothing."

 

"Nothing?"

 

"Yeah. Nothing. I'm not going to do anything. It doesn't help at all. They never help me." Riccardo didn't know to what extent this was entirely true, considering that there was that time when he was losing his powers and nobody really helped him—nobody knew what was happening.

 

"Do you want to talk about this?"

 

"No, not for now. I want to get out of this bed and live a little." Peter tried to get out of bed, but Riccardo stopped him.

 

"I'll get you some clothes. Have at least a little decency." Riccardo placed his hand on Peter's shoulder.

 

Peter laughed awkwardly.

Chapter Text

Who is Riccardo?

Riccardo and his colleagues do not exist in the Earth-616 universe; they come from another multiverse.

They met Peter before the First Civil War. The exact day doesn’t necessarily exist anymore, because it was erased from history—so thoroughly that even the Watcher no longer knows what happened.

Riccardo waited to the side while Peter Parker changed clothes. Riccardo knew that Peter wasn’t happy at all; he knew Peter was burning with hatred and wanted to use the spear to destroy everything in his world.

Peter was sometimes too good—too forgiving—even to himself, while Riccardo had compassion and empathy.

But there was a major difference between Peter and Riccardo: Riccardo gave two chances to surrender. He wasn’t insistent like an idiot, unlike Peter’s old mental state, which made him behave like an annoying child who always tried too hard.

An example would be Luke Skywalker, who—even knowing his former self had died—still believed that his father was alive.

But Riccardo’s concern was different. Peter had lost ten years of his life. Riccardo knew Peter had anger issues, but he also had self-control, even if his anger was genuine—the loss of an uncle, the loss of a former girlfriend.

Peter was a man who knew how to cope with losing people who mattered to him.

‘Did he keep the memories of those ten years? After his soul returned to his body, did he still remember everything? Or maybe it was the spear that restored his memories? Hell, I want to know what happened to him.’
Riccardo was anguished; he knew the power of the sacred spear in his universe. He had tried to take the spear and give it to someone truly worthy, but he failed.

Peter was worthy.

But Peter was still an ordinary man; his faith could be shaken.

The door slid open, revealing a new Peter Parker.

His hair had been cut and dyed light brown, combed back like it had been before the year 2000. He had shaved his beard, leaving it short—trimmed, not clean-shaven.

He wore a light green shirt with a large “X” on the front, a brown jacket over it, light black pants, and brown sneakers matching the jacket.

“How do I look?” Peter asked.

“Decent. Let’s go.” Riccardo started walking, and Peter walked beside him.

The two friends walked in silence. Riccardo didn’t pressure Peter to talk about his past; he focused on making him feel at home… like he used to feel at his aunt’s house.

“You’re much older. Something happened,” Peter said. Riccardo hadn’t been that old the last time they met.

“No, I just let my hair grow out.” Riccardo ran his hand through his long blond hair.

“Why do I feel like you’ve aged a lot?” Peter asked with a smile.

“I have to take care of a bunch of crazy people bordering on psychopathy. That’s why I’m getting old.” A vein appeared on Riccardo’s forehead—sometimes his colleagues really did seem like psychopaths.

“Is it a Catholic faction?” Peter asked, almost laughing.

“Only in name.” When Riccardo said that, Peter couldn’t contain his laughter.

The door slid open, granting them passage to the place known as “the living room,” where most of the faction was gathered.

The members looked at the door as Peter and Riccardo entered.

Silence remained until one of them spoke.

“Sleeping Beauty has finally woken up! You had us worried.” A young adult dressed elegantly in all white spoke, crossing his arms.

“Oh please, big rapist Jack, let me get my beauty sleep or I’ll look like an Indian,” Peter said, placing his hands on his cheeks where he still had a bit of baby fat.

“Oh, it’s true, no one should look like an Indian. So you’re forgiven,” Jack said with a smile.

They stared at each other intensely. A small laugh escaped Jack’s lips as Peter stared back, and then a smile formed on Peter’s face until both burst out laughing like two idiots.

The others sighed; some widened their eyes.

“That’s a really bad joke,” Jack said, wiping a tear from his eye. He walked up to Peter and pulled him into a hug.

“I’m glad you’re doing well.”
Peter froze for a second that felt like ten years, then sighed and returned the hug.

The others approached and hugged Peter or congratulated him for the years they hadn’t seen him. Having friends from another dimension makes the absence hurt, but they still cherished the memories they had shared.

“You haven’t changed at all,” Peter said, sitting in the large sofa circle with one of Riccardo’s faction members.

The man who carried the spear that hunted the stars.

“Come on, of course I’ve changed,” Alden—almost 2.10 meters tall—said, running a hand over his bald head. He wore a dark blue dress shirt, gray dress pants, and suspenders.

“Yeah, if you had really long hair and now you’re bald,” Peter said, not hiding how little Alden had changed, except for becoming bald like Luke Cage.

“There are only two haircuts. Hairy… or bald.” Alden smiled, revealing teeth so white the light reflected into his eyes.

Peter shielded his eyes. “DAMN IT, I’M BLIND!” He fell to the ground while Alden burst into laughter.

Slowly, Peter’s vision returned after the explosion of reflected light.

“Damn it!” Peter looked to the side at a young American man with brown eyes and hair, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt, brown pants, black sneakers, and a dark green jacket with black stripes. “How do you put up with this?”

“I’m immune to bright light in my eyes,” the young man said calmly.

“What?!” Peter asked, not believing it.

“My eyes are immune to light that’s too bright. Considering I’m a sniper, it’s useful.”

“So your father’s baldness doesn’t affect you?”

“First of all: white light blinds people; black light steals their sight.”

The three laughed as if there were no tomorrow.

“You bastards,” Peter said, throwing his head back, laughing.

“Seriously, man, you’ve barely aged,” Peter added while Alden laughed casually.

“Touki and alien food slowed my aging. I’m in my early 70s, but I look like I’m 40.” Alden opened and closed his hand. He was an elder of Riccardo’s faction, but now he looked in the prime of his life.

Peter nodded and looked at the younger man, BillKain.

“You still have nightmares about your past?” Peter asked. BillKain shook his head.

“I haven’t had that nightmare in a long time. The man I share DNA with has been dead for years. He’s my father now.”
BillKain pointed at Alden—who had been a father figure before becoming family.

His colleagues had saved him from the man who planted the “seed of life” inside his mother, who died giving birth.

Peter placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled.

“I’m happy for you both.”

“It’s a very impressive aquarium, Kai.”

“Thanks.”

Peter and Kai stood before a massive aquarium filled with various marine creatures and alien plants.

Kai was Hawaiian, but white—native-born, which was incredibly rare.

He wore a necklace made from the teeth of marine predators he had collected for study. He was shirtless, showing off a great physique—probably to attract women—SpongeBob-themed shorts below the knee, and blue flip-flops.

“How do you manage to keep all these species together?” Peter asked, staring at the alien fish.

“With a machine that increases space,” Kai said, checking his clipboard.

“What’s the name of this machine?”

“Space Module.”

Both remained silent. Kai continued taking notes while Peter stared at him.

“What a ridiculous name,” Peter said.

“It’s not my fault, I didn’t name it. I’m a marine biologist, not a scientist.” Kai refused to look at Peter, embarrassed by the device’s name.

“You couldn’t call it: ‘A device that doubles space to make room’?” Peter tried to come up with names, but nothing sounded good.

“D.A.Y.T.D.T.S.?” Kai attempted to use the initials from Peter’s suggestion.

“Extra space and not a word more,” Peter said, making Kai laugh; he wasn’t in the mood to debate names.

Peter continued reading Kai’s notes about sea creatures from space. What Kai experienced was unique—like a fantasy book filled with notes and illustrations of the marine life he captured.

But one creature stood out.

“Kai… there’s a creature you’ve written about here, but I don’t see it in the aquarium.” Peter stared at the notebook. One page was filled only with illustrations of eyes… and the title:

The Child of the Starry Sea

“Oh.” Kai looked uncomfortable and scratched the back of his head, becoming restless and looking everywhere except at Peter. “That one can cause a heart attack.”

“Seriously?” Peter crossed his arms, raising a brow. “Is it that dangerous?”

Kai didn’t answer. Instead, he walked up and placed his hands on Peter’s shoulders. Peter’s spider-sense activated—he was about to be transported.

Peter found himself underwater. Above him—not a sun—but a moon. All around: endless water.

He held his breath, looking at Kai—who didn’t need to breathe underwater.

Kai pointed behind Peter.

And for the first time, Peter’s spider-sense failed because he was too horrified.

Before him stood the largest creature he had ever seen. Peter couldn’t describe its grandeur. A Celestial would look small beside it. A sea monster half the size of the universe itself.

A sea serpent with a humanoid body and tentacles—straight out of Lovecraft.

It had a face. It smiled. It waved.

Hello.

Spider-Sense: THIS THING CAN TALK!!!

Peter’s brain shut down.

“Now you understand what I mean when I say it’s frightening even when it’s gentle.”

Yeah…

Kai took Peter away.

“At least that one was polite and didn’t scream.”

“Never in my life has my spider-sense turned off like that,” Peter said while striking a T-pose as Jack took measurements for a suit.

“Not everyone stays sane in the presence of a creature larger than planets—half the size of the universe. Anyone would be terrified. Kai is helping it avoid killing people from fear so the next user won’t die of shock.” Jack measured Peter’s back.

Peter looked around the sewing room, filled with fabrics of countless colors.

“Was your hatred for indigenous people the trigger for you becoming a fashion designer?” Peter joked, lowering his arms as Jack finished.

Jack was designing a suit for Peter to wear to a high-class event like the Hellfire Gala. Peter didn’t even own a suit—he could barely afford rent in his dilapidated apartment.

“I lived in a country where the cold is extreme and awful, and you have to watch your uncle work himself to death. You want to do something cool.”
Jack was from the Netherlands, ironically only developing pale skin long after leaving.

His hair had been black—but now it had turned white.

Peter looked at the clothes on display—beautiful, elegant, each designed for members of Riccardo’s faction. Then he noticed something odd.

“Why are there children’s clothes here?” Peter asked, as his spider-sense flickered. He turned to see an ice soldier carrying sewing supplies.

“These belong to Mordred, Riccardo’s daughter,” Jack said while finishing the concept sketch.

“WHAT?!” Peter was shocked to learn Riccardo had a daughter.

“Yeah. Long story short, people were sent to different time periods, and Riccardo ended up in Great Britain, where he found her and adopted her.”
Jack shrugged. “And yes, it’s she, not he. In this timeline, King Arthur is a woman.”

Peter froze.

Well… multiverse things.

“You can go now. Your suit’ll be ready in seventeen hours.” Jack kicked Peter out.

The Black Dragon from Riccardo’s faction sat in the training room, watching Peter test his strength.

Peter was currently squatting with 110 tons.

“I think you can do more,” the dragon said.

“Me too. I think I’m not using all my strength, but this is more than enough.” Peter lifted the weight one last time, then the dragon turned off the training system.

“You know you can get even stronger, right?” the dragon asked.

“I know—but my strength is already enough to defeat my enemies with ease. Rhino, for example, can’t handle someone lifting 50 tons,” Peter said, drying himself.

“In your universe, 100 tons is nothing. You need to train more,” the dragon insisted.

Peter fell silent, reflecting.

There were two—or maybe three—who had pushed him to the limit:

Morlun.
Carnage.
Rarely, Juggernaut.

Morlun—nearly unstoppable—defeated only thanks to Peter’s intelligence, not brute force.

Carnage—pure madness and bloodlust—whose weapons-shaped hands nearly killed him.

Juggernaut—perhaps Hulk’s equal—whom Peter had fought, never winning, but never staying down either.

But maybe in another situation…

“I appreciate your offer, my dear dragon, but I’m fine.”
Maybe in another timeline, he would accept and grow stronger.

“If you say so. My offer still stands.”
The dragon turned to leave.

Peter grew suspicious. Usually he wanted to train more. Now he didn’t feel like it. Why?

He used the spear’s power.

Time stopped.

He looked at his right arm—and saw a new power spreading slowly… like a disease. His arm was slowly turning into a dragon’s limb.

Very slowly. Almost as if the Black Dragon was preventing the change himself.

Time resumed.

The dragon left the room while Peter stood still, perhaps understanding why the dragon no longer trained as much—despite being one of the weakest.

“Maybe the stronger he becomes, the faster it spreads.”
Peter covered his mouth, thinking. He knew Riccardo must already know.

“They probably erased his memory.”
Just theories. No answers.

He hoped his friend would be okay.

Peter left the training room and walked toward Riccardo’s room, where his book collection was kept.

It was a unique opportunity to see alien languages.

As he walked, a small child—four or five years old—approached.

Blonde braided hair, brown eyes, a light green dress.

The girl stopped and looked at Peter curiously.

“Are you a friend of my dad?” she asked innocently, making Peter laugh.

He knelt to her level.

“That’s right,” Peter said. “What’s your name, little one?”

“My name is Mordred,” she answered shyly.

“Did Riccardo give you that name?” Peter raised an eyebrow.

“No,” she shook her head. “My mother did.”

Peter froze, wondering if she truly was Mordred, the Knight of Treachery.

“Where is your mother?”

“My father killed her.”

The shock hit instantly—Peter hadn’t expected that from Riccardo.

“Mordred, you’re scaring our guest,” Riccardo said, hands in pockets, looking at them.

“Sorry, Dad,” she said, lowering her head and touching her fingertips together.

“Mordred saw you leaving your uncle Rodrigo’s room. What did you want with him?”

“I wanted the key to Uncle Rodrigo’s room to watch DVDs.”

“His door is open now. Go watch your movies.”

She grinned, nodded, and ran off.

Peter stood and looked at Riccardo.

“Isn’t it dangerous for a girl her age to watch Rodrigo’s films?” Riccardo laughed.

“Rodrigo likes animation. Mordred is smarter than other kids her age—she knows what she shouldn’t watch. We also have a system for that.”

Peter laughed.

“Let’s go,” Riccardo said, walking past Peter.

Peter followed him into Riccardo’s room, which was ridiculously simple.

A bed in the left corner, near the bathroom. A table with two chairs in the center.

The two sat, and Peter looked around.

“It’s very minimalist. Where do you keep your clothes and books?”

Riccardo lifted his hand, and the wall beside the bed slid upward, revealing a bookshelf filled with books, alien artifacts, and a spherical object made of pentagons.

Then the right wall moved, revealing a wardrobe.

“Understood,” Peter said, surprised.

Silence settled. Riccardo crossed his arms and leaned back, looking like a father about to have a serious talk with his son. But this conversation would be a fragment of Peter’s conscience.

“Peter… tell me what you think about your hero ‘friends.’” Riccardo asked without judgment.

Peter lowered his head. His hair couldn’t hide his eyes.

“I’m furious,” he said. He lifted his head, veins almost bulging. “I remember how Otto acted arrogantly, disregarding everyone, especially when he called himself the Superior Spider-Man.”

Peter spoke with disgust and mockery, using the word “Superior” as if he meant “Inferior.”

“Wasn’t he subtle at all?”

“What more do you need? Otto needs a giant sign that says ‘Arrogant!’ I was never like that! I was a little arrogant and confident, sure, but not in that way!”
He slammed his fist on the table, which somehow withstood the impact.

“The fantastic room where one of the greatest minds of humanity currently resides was located outside Earth. There’s no shortage of telepaths! I can name three right now: Charles Xavier, Emma Frost and Jean Grey — with some kind of cosmic entity inside her that boosts her powers! Logan is my blood brother and knows me extremely well. That bastard saw Otto acting against a mutant who had transformed, hitting her pressure points, something I’ve never done in my entire life!”
Peter was fuming.

“I would have immobilized her and tried to find a solution to reverse the transformation.”
Peter clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Peter saw that memory, and he could say he almost died of a heart attack — because he clearly saw Logan becoming suspicious, noticing the drastic change in him. He would have never done that to Logan.

But no… he didn’t do anything.

He didn’t ask Charles or Jean to check his mind.

Peter felt something touch his shoulder. He looked forward and realized Riccardo was no longer in front of him. Peter glanced to the side and saw Riccardo holding his shoulder; it was impressive how quietly he had moved.

“Calm down,” was all Riccardo said.

Peter closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and exhaled. He repeated the process again and again.

When he opened his eyes, Riccardo was seated in front of him again.

“Your ‘blood brother’ — why do you think he hasn’t contacted any telepaths?”

“Logan is very old. He’s over 100 years old. He knows very well that I’m not violent. That alone would’ve been enough to make him suspicious.”

“And Tony? Or Doctor Strange?”

“Tony? That bastard lied to me. I trusted that the hero registration would keep my aunt safe… but he didn’t even care. Strange… honestly, he barely showed up.”

“What about the situation between your aunt and Otto?”

“Aunt May — even without much connection to heroes — noticed immediately, because I never cared about ‘efficiency.’”

“And your girlfriends?”

“Considering my ex-wife noticed Otto had practically zero experience with romantic relationships, she didn’t even give him a chance. The irony… and Cat hates me because of him.”

“He never had a girlfriend? Or been in a relationship?”

“The only time he dated someone, he used my body. And he has a fetish for dwarf women.”

“…”
Riccardo decided that was irrelevant.
“What else did he do with your body?”

“Besides treating it like hell trying to maintain a double life and ruining my reputation, he also made other heroes ignore me. J.J.J., that Hitler wannabe, loved Otto in my body.”
Peter threw his head back.

“My entire history as a hero is tarnished by a body with a tentacle fetish and an enormous ego. My uncle, Gwen, Captain Stacy, the kids… Jesus, life feels like a bad joke.”

Peter kept lamenting, stuck in the past, talking about people who were long gone — and Riccardo finally understood something.

“Peter, you told me the story about your aunt dying and you selling your marriage in exchange for bringing her back.”
Riccardo didn’t raise his voice, but he was furious Peter had made a deal with the devil.

“Stark lied, as always. My aunt died in an attack by my enemies who knew my identity. She died and Stark did nothing! I should’ve invented a virus to wipe out everything he owned. After the devastation of the Civil War, my aunt died and I couldn’t do anything. In the end, Mephisto showed up with a deal: my aunt would live, in exchange for my marriage.”
Riccardo raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t want to lose my marriage… but my identity was already exposed. And I didn’t want to lose my aunt either. But M.J. accepted the deal, so there was nothing left for me to do but accept it too.”

Riccardo paused and thought.

“I think you already understand your main problem. Complicated grief with PTSD… and a bit of emotional dependency, Peter.”

Peter’s mind froze, reliving painful memories.

“You lost your uncle when you were 15 or 16, right?”
Peter nodded.
“Look, my mother died when I was only three. I understand how intense that pain is. I won’t lie — it’s not easy to get over losing a loved one or a girlfriend. And then there are the kids who supported you even while you were being massacred by a poorly made Hitler copy.”

Peter stayed silent, processing Riccardo’s words.

“You’re very sentimental, Peter. Even though you’re a genius, your emotions speak louder — and that’s why you suffer. I’m not saying that’s a flaw, but it’s clear that this sentimentality is stopping you from evolving. If you cling too tightly to it, you might become something you never wanted to be.”
Riccardo had already understood Peter’s main problem: besides the obsession with responsibility, it was his overwhelming sentimentality.

It’s not easy to let go of something — especially someone who cared for you since childhood — but Peter Parker couldn’t accept May Parker’s death. To avoid losing her forever, he sold his marriage to the devil.

The constant guilt over Captain Stacy and Gwen still haunted him.

The children who admired him even while Hitler-wannabe Jameson painted him as a monster…

Being Spider-Man while being poor was hell. Even to be a superhero you need money.

But if not for Spider-Man, countless families wouldn’t be alive.

“You know he’s right.”

Peter blinked. He looked at Riccardo—who was frozen, not breathing. Everything around him was tinted purple.

Peter turned around.

He faced someone who shouldn’t exist anymore.

C.E.O. Alchemax Peter Parker.

“Our sentimentality created me. M.J.’s death changed our future.”
Opposite Riccardo’s bookshelf stood the former CEO — a paradox that shouldn’t exist.

“Shouldn’t you be dead?” Peter asked, confused.

“You forgot how I was defeated? When time and space were collapsing, ready to be reshaped. My suit absorbed the quantum particles, and when the timeline was restored, a small problem remained.”

“Me?”

“Exactly. I’m a paradox because you didn’t continue down the timeline that created me. M.J. didn’t die, and you didn’t become CEO of Alchemax. Two Peter Parkers existed, and one was a paradox — as we both know.”

“Time itself hates paradoxes. It doesn’t matter if they’re good or bad.”

“Exactly. But there was a problem: the timeline was fractured because you never became me. So instead of erasing me, time threw me into its body.”

“But why? We changed the past. None of that should’ve happened. You shouldn’t exist.”

“True. But because you escaped the timeline where I was meant to appear — and because your timeline was altered — time considers me a lost fragment. And when everything resets, I return to you, to help fix the mess.”

“You were inside my body,” Peter said in disbelief.

“In your subconscious specifically. I can’t do anything but observe. If I could act, Otto would never have had access to our body.”

Old Peter looked to the side. Present Peter did the same — and saw the Lance of Longinus standing upright, shining like the sun.

“Longinus. I should’ve guessed.”

“As your older version, I strongly recommend you stop with this excessive sentimentality. Soon you’ll develop survivor’s syndrome just because you survived a fight. Let’s be honest: it’s easy to work alone and expect others to join you, instead of kneeling down and asking other heroes for help.”

Even his own paradox couldn’t stand Peter’s sentimentality anymore.

“Ha! You’re giving me an ethics lesson?”

“I’m trying to open your eyes to future threats. We’re not the best at everything, but we are the best at what we specialize in. Stark is arrogant — and so are his Illuminati colleagues.”
The Hulk had revealed who the Illuminati were, but Peter knew Tony’s brilliant mind and paranoia were 1000 times more dangerous than an angry Hulk. Civil War proved that.

“That’s right. So Spider-Man needs to disappear.”

“That’ll leave our worst enemy with no material to attack us?”

“Yes. But we need something — an event that changes Spider-Man completely. A 360-degree turn. And we need some heroes present. The Fantastic Four. They were the symbol of Spider-Man’s transformation, and Susan will be a perfect witness.”

“Doom gathered the Infinity Stones. Reed needs help recovering the gems, and to avoid suspicion, he’ll call the old goofy Spider-Man.”

“He’ll take the Soul Stone and change radically. Simple and brilliant — no one will suspect a thing.”

“We’ll owe Doom a favor, but that’s irrelevant compared to what I’m going to do.”

“Jameson will die before discovering Spider-Man’s identity. Ha… that’s almost ironic.”

Peter had a wicked grin. He would manipulate the only villain capable of rivaling gods to change reality. He didn’t know Doom’s exact plans, but whatever they were, he was helping — willingly and gratefully.

He threw his head back and made his decision.

Spider-Man needed to die so that Peter Parker could rise and continue helping people. What Tony and Reed failed to do, he would accomplish.

But messing with reality was something he didn’t know how to do yet. He had erased a day from existence in 1994 and no one had noticed — probably never would.

He expected Reed to have protection against reality alteration — of that he was certain.

“Thanks,” he said to his paradox as time began moving again.

“Thinking about it, Riccardo… you’re right. But it’s still hard to overcome this loss. How do you travel from planet to planet saving civilizations and still remain strong and resilient?”
Peter didn’t know how many planets Riccardo’s faction had visited — but he knew it was a lot.

Riccardo leaned back and crossed his arms.
“I’ve seen planets in misery, stripped of freedom. When we helped free them, I didn’t celebrate — that victory belonged to them. I cooled my heart so I wouldn’t suffer or become too happy. But I’m not an empty shell. I laugh, I get sad, I cry.”

There was a planet Riccardo’s faction defended from a machine similar to Mega Man Zero. The machine destroyed an entire civilization before his eyes, awakening a boundless hatred within him.

That day Riccardo “met” the Evies — and that day his hatred for machines was born.

But as a Catholic, he always showed compassion to enemies. If they refused it, and surrender was impossible, then death was inevitable.

“I’m still human, Peter. Just like you. Spider-Man is your good side. Peter Parker is your selfish side.”

“HEY—”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET ME FINISH.”

Peter went silent.

“I’m not saying you should abandon your heroic side. Just make sure you take care of yourself first before helping others. New York has over 20 heroes living there — it won’t burn down overnight just because the first Spider-Man leaves. You were born to help people. You’re a good man, Peter — flawed, but good. I’m sure he’s proud of the nephew he helped raise.”

Peter froze. In his mind, he remembered the last time he saw his uncle — Doctor Strange’s gift that allowed him to talk to his uncle for five minutes… the longest five minutes of his life.

How many lives has Spider-Man saved?

How many lives have been changed by Professor Peter Parker?

His student and her brother were doing well.

How many times had he wanted to throw the mask away so Peter Parker could live a little longer?

Of all his relationships, only one woman loved both the mask and the man beneath it.

He had never needed time away from the mask more than now.

He would use the Fantastic Four and Doctor Doom to change Spider-Man — then kill Spider-Man in a single event once performed in an alternate universe by a traumatized man.

He wouldn’t let anger guide him into altering others directly.

Riccardo watched Peter break down in tears as reality finally hit him. Peter might be a genius, but a genius with a fragile mind can be easily defeated — and when only a fragment of his mind remained, he was easily influenced.

Peter was many things, but he was nothing like Otto claimed. Otto was never superior to Peter Parker — he only succeeded because Peter was too busy caring for others while a false god interfered with his life.

The Superior Spider-Man was never truly superior. A deranged villain stole the body of a beloved hero and proved himself worse — lacking even a shred of humanity.

Riccardo hugged Peter, letting him release all his pain in tears rather than punches — venting grief and anger.