Neither the original Spider-Man Noir nor Peter Parker from another universe could truly comprehend what was happening.
The situation was simply too bizarre.
First, Spider-Man Noir had discovered evidence suggesting that Green Goblin’s criminal empire had infiltrated every corner of New York.
Then Ben Urich, the man he trusted most, had been murdered.
Next came the shocking revelation that J.
Jonah Jameson—the crusading journalist who had inspired countless people—might somehow be involved.
Desperate for answers, Spider-Man Noir had rushed to the Daily Bugle.
He wanted to confront Jameson directly.
To hear the truth from the man’s own mouth.
Instead…
He arrived just in time to witness “Jameson” being shot dead.
Worse still, the moment he entered the office holding a handgun, the police arrived.
To them, the scene looked obvious.
A dead body.
A gun.
And Spider-Man standing over the corpse.
The police had immediately labeled him a murderer.
Forced to flee, Spider-Man Noir escaped through the city streets while officers pursued him relentlessly.
Determined to uncover the truth, he later infiltrated the city morgue.
There, he discovered a horrifying secret.
The corpse wasn’t J.
Jonah Jameson at all.
The dead man was someone else.
Someone disguised as him.
Someone whose face had been altered.
That discovery only deepened the mystery.
Who was the imposter?
Where was the real Jameson?
And who had orchestrated everything?
Seeking answers, Spider-Man Noir returned to his investigation room to examine the files Ben Urich had left behind.
And at that exact moment…
Another Peter Parker arrived.
Peter slowly opened his eyes.
The splitting headache that had accompanied the memory transfer was gone.
Only lingering confusion remained.
For several seconds, he simply sat there in silence.
His thoughts were tangled.
His memories felt blurred.
He remembered growing up in Queens.
He remembered attending high school.
He remembered building web-shooters.
He remembered Aunt May.
Yet at the same time…
He remembered the Great Depression.
He remembered gangsters.
He remembered shadowy alleyways drenched in rain.
He remembered carrying a revolver beneath a trench coat.
For a brief moment, Peter couldn’t tell who he truly was.
The cheerful teenage Spider-Man from modern-day Queens?
Or the hardened vigilante of a dark and broken New York?
Perhaps…
A little of both.
Eventually, Peter took a deep breath.
One thing was certain.
The giant web inside his mind was real.
And so were the other Spider-Men connected to it.
His heart raced at the realization.
He wasn’t alone.
There were others.
Others who had been chosen by destiny.
Others who had been bitten by a spider and transformed forever.
Others who carried the burden of responsibility.
Compared to Spider-Man Noir’s tragic life, Peter suddenly realized how fortunate he had been.
His parents were gone.
But Aunt May loved him.
He had friends.
He attended school.
He still had dreams.
Spider-Man Noir had grown up in a city where hope itself seemed like a luxury.
The difference was staggering.
Peter glanced toward the glowing thread connected to the great web.
A question immediately surfaced.
“Can I still go back?”
Closing his eyes, he focused on the mysterious structure within his consciousness.
The answer came quickly.
Yes.
He could return whenever he wanted.
The connection wasn’t permanent.
If he severed the glowing thread, his consciousness would immediately return to his own body.
The discovery brought relief.
But surprisingly…
He felt no desire to leave.
Instead, excitement bubbled within him.
This world fascinated him.
Another Spider-Man.
Another adventure.
Another reality.
How could he walk away now?
Peter turned toward the files scattered across the table.
Perhaps the answers were hidden there.
The documents contained detailed information regarding Green Goblin’s inner circle.
Peter carefully examined each page.
“Sergei Kravinoff.
Also known as Kraven the Hunter.”
A photograph showed a broad-shouldered man with fierce eyes.
Occupation: Animal trainer.
Nationality: Russian.
The next file revealed another familiar face.
“Adrian Toomes.
Also known as Vulture.”
Peter frowned.
This version of Vulture looked nothing like the one from his world.
He appeared more like a monster than a man.
Another page followed.
“Dmitri Smerdyakov.
Also known as Chameleon.”
Peter’s eyes narrowed.
There it was.
The missing piece.
According to the report, Chameleon possessed the ability to perfectly imitate another person’s appearance.
An impersonator.
A master of deception.
Everything suddenly started falling into place.
Peter began organizing the clues.
“The Green Goblin recruits from circuses, carnivals, and freak shows…”
“People with unusual talents.”
“People nobody notices.”
His enhanced Spider-Man intellect rapidly connected the dots.
“The dead Jameson was fake.”
“Which means the real Jameson is alive.”
“Or at least…
he was.”
Peter stood up.
His thoughts accelerated.
“If Green Goblin learned Ben Urich planned to expose him, then he would need to silence everyone involved.”
“Ben Urich dies.”
“Jameson disappears.”
“Chameleon impersonates Jameson.”
“Then Chameleon gets killed.”
The timeline fit perfectly.
Peter paced around the room.
“But who killed Chameleon?”
The answer came instantly.
“Felicia Hardy.”
Black Cat.
Ben Urich’s lover.
The woman who had personally witnessed Jameson’s apparent murder of Ben Urich.
If she believed Jameson was responsible, revenge would be inevitable.
A tragic misunderstanding.
Chameleon had disguised himself as Jameson.
Felicia unknowingly killed the wrong target.
Peter stopped walking.
A chill ran down his spine.
“No…”
His eyes widened.
“They won’t stop there.”
If Green Goblin was tying up loose ends…
Then Felicia Hardy was next.
She possessed critical information.
She knew too much.
But then another realization struck him.
An even worse one.
Peter’s face went pale.
“No…”
“There’s someone else.”
His heart skipped a beat.
“Me.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
Peter remembered the memories he had inherited.
Before Ben Urich’s death, Peter Parker had been his closest assistant.
His trusted partner.
The person who helped gather evidence.
Worse still, Peter had openly clashed with Green Goblin’s organization inside Felicia’s nightclub.
There was no chance Green Goblin had forgotten him.
No chance at all.
“They’ll come looking for Peter Parker.”
The realization hit him like a punch.
Then another thought followed.
A thought that made his blood run cold.
“Aunt May.”
Peter shot to his feet.
The chair crashed backward.
His heart pounded violently.
Perhaps this wasn’t his Aunt May.
Perhaps she belonged to Spider-Man Noir’s world.
But after inheriting his memories…
After feeling his emotions…
That distinction no longer mattered.
She was family.
And family was in danger.
Without hesitation, Peter rushed toward the window.
Parker Residence
Rain drummed against the rooftop.
The house sat quietly beneath the dark sky.
Inside, Aunt May frowned slightly as she stood outside Peter’s bedroom.
She thought she had heard movement.
Perhaps Peter had finally returned home.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
“Peter?”
No response.
Aunt May waited.
Silence.
With a sigh, she pushed the door open.
The room was empty.
“Peter?”
Still nothing.
Then she noticed something strange.
The bedroom window was wide open.
Cold air drifted inside.
Aunt May shook her head.
“Honestly…”
A small smile appeared on her face.
“How many times have I told that boy to close the window before leaving?”
Muttering to herself, she walked toward it.
She had only taken two steps.
Then—
WHOOSH!
A dark blur descended from the ceiling.
Instinctively, Aunt May turned around.
“Peter—?”
The word died in her throat.
A monstrous figure slammed into her.
She hit the floor hard.
Pain shot through her body.
Before she could react, a claw-like hand seized her shoulder.
A terrible voice hissed into her ear.
“It’s Adrian Toomes.”
Aunt May froze.
The creature looming above her barely looked human.
A black cloak covered his body.
His head was bald.
His mouth overflowed with jagged fangs.
Most horrifying of all were his eyes.
Predatory.
Hungry.
Like an animal staring at prey.
Toomes inhaled deeply.
A twisted smile spread across his face.
“Hissss…”
“A bag of old bones.”
His tongue slid across his teeth.
“Your husband had more meat.”
He chuckled.
“And he tasted better.”
The world seemed to stop.
Aunt May’s pupils contracted.
Her entire body trembled.
For years she had believed Ben died in a tragic accident.
A terrible attack.
A cruel twist of fate.
Now—
The truth stood before her.
The monster responsible.
The monster who had eaten him.
Tears immediately filled her eyes.
A mixture of horror and grief overwhelmed her.
Then—
A voice thundered from the doorway.
“Let her go, Toomes.”
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Toomes turned his head.
A figure stood in the doorway.
Black trench coat.
Fedora hat.
Dark mask.
Spider-Man Noir.
Rainwater dripped from his coat.
His expression was hidden.
But his posture radiated lethal intent.
Toomes grinned.
With one hand, he tightened his grip on Aunt May’s throat.
“You came.”
His yellow eyes gleamed.
“You’re fast.”
Spider-Man Noir remained silent.
Toomes continued.
“Fast enough to swing across the city.”
“Fast enough to dodge bullets.”
“But are you fast enough…”
His claws pressed against Aunt May’s neck.
“…to stop me before I rip her throat out?”
The room fell silent.
For one brief moment—
Peter hesitated.
Not Spider-Man Noir.
The younger Peter.
The teenager from another world.
He saw Aunt May in danger.
Saw a hostage situation.
Saw an innocent life hanging by a thread.
Fear froze him.
What if he missed?
What if she died?
What if—
Then something changed.
Spider-Man Noir’s instincts surged forward.
Cold.
Focused.
Merciless.
The hesitation vanished.
Slowly, Peter reached into his trench coat.
Toomes laughed.
“You think that’ll save her?”
A revolver emerged from the darkness.
Its barrel pointed directly at Toomes’ forehead.
Peter’s voice was calm.
Steady.
Certain.
“Yes.”
BANG!
The gunshot exploded through the room.
Fire erupted from the barrel.
The bullet crossed the distance instantly.
Toomes’ laughter stopped.
A perfect shot.
Right between the eyes.
The impact shattered bone.
Destroyed tissue.
And tore straight through his brain.
The monstrous Vulture staggered backward.
Shock appeared on his face.
As though he couldn’t comprehend what had happened.
Then—
His body collapsed.
Lifeless.
Motionless.
Dead.
Silence consumed the room.
Smoke drifted from the revolver’s barrel.
Aunt May stared in disbelief.
Peter stared as well.
His heart hammered against his chest.
This wasn’t his world.
This wasn’t his Spider-Man.
And this…
Wasn’t the friendly neighborhood hero he knew.
Spider-Man Noir lowered the revolver.
His eyes remained fixed on Toomes’ corpse.
Because deep inside…
A terrible feeling had just appeared.
Green Goblin would never send only one hunter.
If Adrian Toomes had found Aunt May…
Then others were already moving.
And somewhere in the darkness of New York…
Someone was watching.
Someone was waiting.
Someone far more dangerous than the Vulture.
The hunt had officially begun.
And Green Goblin had just realized that Spider-Man was still alive.
To Be Continued…