“Among the three generations of Spider-Man, he’s the worst-looking!”
“So useless!”
“He never learns!”
“Other Spider-Men solve problems.
He only creates them!”
The voices came from nowhere.
They echoed through Peter Parker’s mind like an endless storm, overlapping one another until they became impossible to ignore.
Peter’s eyes snapped open.
His chest rose and fell as he sat upright in bed.
Again.
Those strange voices had returned.
For the past few days, they had appeared without warning—sometimes while he was studying, sometimes while he was swinging across Queens, and sometimes in the middle of the night when he was trying to sleep.
The worst part?
They all seemed to be talking about him.
“…What is wrong with me?”
Peter rubbed his temples and climbed out of bed.
The small apartment was silent.
Aunt May was asleep in the next room.
The digital clock beside his bed displayed 3:07 AM.
With a sigh, Peter shuffled toward the bathroom.
Cold water splashed against his face.
For several seconds he simply stared into the mirror.
The reflection staring back at him looked completely ordinary.
Brown hair.
Tired eyes.
A skinny teenager from Queens.
Nothing about him suggested he possessed powers beyond imagination.
Nothing suggested he could cling to walls.
Or lift cars.
Or swing between skyscrapers.
Or dodge bullets.
Yet all of it was true.
A month ago, everything had changed.
A simple school science trip.
One radioactive spider bite.
One night of agonizing fever.
And then…
A new life.
Peter still remembered waking up the next morning.
The strange strength.
The heightened senses.
The impossible reflexes.
At first he thought he was dreaming.
Then he accidentally shattered a bathroom sink.
That had convinced him fairly quickly.
Since then, he had spent weeks learning what he could do.
He had tested his limits.
Learned to climb walls.
Practiced jumping between rooftops.
Created his own web shooters.
Designed his own costume.
Every day brought another discovery.
Every day felt like a new adventure.
And for the first time in his life…
Peter felt special.
Not because people praised him.
Not because he was popular.
But because he could help.
He could actually make a difference.
That feeling was addictive.
The first time he stopped a mugging, the victim had cried from relief.
The second time he rescued someone from a burning apartment, firefighters had stared at him in disbelief.
Even when people called him a menace or a weirdo, he didn’t care.
Because he knew he was doing the right thing.
That was enough.
At least…
It had been enough.
Until the strange web appeared.
Peter wiped the water from his face.
A few days ago, a gigantic web-like structure had suddenly manifested inside his mind.
It wasn’t something he could physically see.
It existed only in his consciousness.
A vast cosmic network stretching endlessly into darkness.
A web larger than entire galaxies.
A web that seemed connected to countless worlds.
And ever since it appeared…
The voices had started.
Voices criticizing him.
Mocking him.
Comparing him to other Spider-Men.
“Other Spider-Men…”
Peter frowned.
What did that even mean?
Were there others like him?
Other people bitten by radioactive spiders?
Other heroes called Spider-Man?
The idea sounded ridiculous.
Yet the voices spoke as if those Spider-Men already existed.
As if they knew him personally.
As if they were watching his life unfold.
The thought sent chills down his spine.
Peter returned to his room and collapsed onto his bed.
Tomorrow was important.
Very important.
He needed sleep.
Because tomorrow…
Tony Stark was coming.
Iron Man.
The genius billionaire.
The Avenger.
The man who had helped save the world.
The man Peter admired more than anyone.
The invitation still felt unreal.
Tony Stark had personally requested to meet him.
Peter had reread the message dozens of times.
Every time he did, excitement surged through his chest.
Maybe Stark had discovered his secret identity.
Maybe he wanted to recruit him.
Maybe—
Peter grinned.
Maybe the Avengers needed a Spider-Man.
His imagination immediately spiraled out of control.
He pictured himself standing beside Captain America.
Training with Black Widow.
Flying in Iron Man armor.
Fighting aliens.
Saving the world.
The possibilities seemed endless.
Eventually exhaustion began pulling him toward sleep.
His eyelids grew heavy.
His breathing slowed.
Darkness crept closer.
And then—
The web appeared again.
The massive structure materialized within his consciousness.
Countless glowing threads stretched infinitely in every direction.
But this time something had changed.
A single point of light shone brightly among the endless strands.
A new connection.
A new destination.
Peter stared.
“What is that?”
Curiosity immediately overwhelmed caution.
Before he could stop himself, he focused entirely on the glowing point.
The moment he did—
Everything exploded.
Pain shot through his skull.
The world vanished.
His consciousness was violently ripped away.
And then—
Darkness.
Peter gasped.
His eyes flew open.
He was no longer in his bedroom.
The familiar walls of his apartment were gone.
Instead, he found himself standing inside a cramped room.
Dust floated through the air.
Old wooden walls surrounded him.
A single dim light illuminated the space.
In front of him sat a makeshift table constructed from wooden crates.
Photographs were scattered across its surface.
Beside them rested stacks of documents.
Newspaper clippings.
Investigation notes.
Financial records.
The atmosphere felt oppressive.
Dangerous.
Peter instinctively tensed.
“Where am I?”
Before he could investigate further—
Agony struck.
“AAAH!”
He collapsed to one knee.
His head felt like it was splitting apart.
Something inside his mind trembled violently.
The glowing thread connected to the mysterious point on the giant web suddenly surged with energy.
And then—
Memories flooded into him.
Not his memories.
Someone else’s.
Thousands upon thousands of images exploded through his consciousness.
A different New York.
A darker New York.
A harsher New York.
The year was 1933.
America was drowning in the Great Depression.
People starved.
Families collapsed.
Crime flourished.
Hope was scarce.
And in that cruel world…
There was another Peter Parker.
His Uncle Ben Parker had been murdered.
Not by a random criminal.
Not by chance.
He had angered powerful men.
Men connected to the criminal empire of Norman Osborn.
The Green Goblin.
One of New York’s most feared gang leaders.
Ben Parker had suffered horribly before his death.
The memory was so vivid that Peter nearly vomited.
Pain.
Fear.
Helplessness.
Then came Aunt May.
Green Goblin had targeted her too.
Targeted both of them.
If not for one man, they would have died.
That man was Ben Urich.
A reporter.
A photographer.
A truth seeker.
At least…
That was what everyone believed.
Ben Urich rescued them.
Protected them.
Gave them hope.
Young Peter eventually became his assistant.
Worked beside him.
Learned from him.
Trusted him.
Admired him.
Then came the spider.
A cursed spider.
A creature connected to an ancient statue.
A bite.
A vision.
A meeting with the Spider God Anansi.
Power.
Responsibility.
Destiny.
Spider-Man was born.
Yet becoming Spider-Man revealed ugly truths.
Truths hidden beneath the city’s surface.
Truths even darker than crime itself.
Because Ben Urich wasn’t the man everyone believed he was.
Not entirely.
He wasn’t merely exposing corruption.
He was profiting from it.
Blackmailing criminals.
Accepting hush money.
Covering up crimes.
Selling silence.
The revelation shattered Peter’s trust.
Then things became worse.
Much worse.
One day Ben Urich suddenly changed.
He decided to expose everything.
Every secret.
Every crime.
Every connection.
All evidence would be revealed.
Peter never understood why.
Perhaps guilt finally caught up to him.
Perhaps Spider-Man inspired him.
Perhaps he simply wanted redemption.
Whatever the reason—
He paid with his life.
That same night…
He was murdered.
Shot dead in his own home.
The killer?
J.
Jonah Jameson.
Peter’s breathing became ragged.
His eyes widened.
The memories continued pouring into him.
He saw blood.
Chaos.
Fear.
Then another figure emerged.
Felicia Hardy.
The Black Cat.
She recovered the evidence Ben Urich had hidden.
She delivered it to Peter.
And along with the evidence…
She delivered a warning.
“Don’t trust Jameson.”
The words echoed.
Peter felt the emotions of his counterpart.
Confusion.
Disbelief.
Denial.
Because Jameson wasn’t supposed to be the villain.
He was supposed to be one of the good guys.
The memories shifted again.
Peter found himself standing inside the offices of the Daily Bugle.
Listening to Jameson’s passionate speech.
Hearing every word.
Every conviction.
Every promise.
“There are a million sad stories in this city, Parker.”
“But none of them matter unless someone forces the world to see them.”
“Facts matter.”
“Truth matters.”
“People need someone willing to stand against the darkness.”
“This city needs people brave enough to shine a light where others refuse to look.”
“Your Uncle Ben was one of those people.”
“Your Aunt May is one of those people.”
“And I am one of those people.”
The speech had inspired him.
Moved him.
Given him hope.
So how could that same man become a murderer?
How could both things be true?
The contradiction tore at him.
The memories finally slowed.
Peter collapsed against the wall.
His entire body trembled.
The room around him felt more real now.
More solid.
More dangerous.
Because he finally understood what had happened.
The glowing point on the great web wasn’t merely a destination.
It was another world.
Another reality.
Another Spider-Man.
And somehow…
He had connected to him.
Connected to his life.
Connected to his memories.
Connected to his destiny.
Peter slowly raised his head.
Outside the room, distant sirens echoed through the streets.
Rain hammered against old windows.
The city beyond seemed drenched in despair.
A New York far darker than his own.
A world where trust could kill.
A world where heroes died.
A world where Spider-Man stood alone.
Peter swallowed hard.
For the first time since gaining his powers, genuine fear crept into his heart.
Because he realized something terrifying.
If one glowing point represented one Spider-Man…
Then how many points existed on the endless web?
Ten?
A hundred?
A thousand?
Millions?
And if every point represented another world…
What exactly was the colossal web inside his mind?
The answer lingered at the edge of his consciousness.
Ancient.
Vast.
Infinite.
As though countless destinies had been woven together into a single network.
A network connecting every Spider-Man that had ever existed.
And now…
It had chosen him.
Outside, thunder roared across the sky.
Peter stared at the evidence-covered table.
At the photographs.
At the conspiracy surrounding Norman Osborn.
At the mystery surrounding J.
Jonah Jameson.
Then he clenched his fists.
Somewhere in this dark world, another Peter Parker needed help.
And somehow…
He had become part of that story.
The Web of Destiny had opened its first thread.
And Peter Parker had just taken his first step into the Spider-Verse.
To be continued…