“No!”
Green Goblin’s voice echoed through the underground tunnel.
“You don’t understand!”
His eyes were bloodshot.
“If you drag me into a courtroom, they’ll turn me into a spectacle again!”
The webbing binding him to the wall creaked as he struggled violently.
“They’ll stare!”
“They’ll laugh!”
“They’ll point at me!”
His breathing became ragged.
“Just like before!”
Peter watched silently.
The Green Goblin’s emotional collapse was obvious.
Years of trauma were erupting all at once.
His greatest fear had never been death.
It was humiliation.
Being treated like a monster.
Being displayed for others’ amusement.
Being trapped in a cage.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Norman twisted desperately.
Peter noticed that his earlier webbing hadn’t fully immobilized him.
Without saying a word, he shot another strand.
THWIP!
The additional webbing wrapped around Green Goblin’s torso and shoulders.
Now there was absolutely no chance of escape.
“No one locks me in a cage!”
Green Goblin screamed.
“No one!”
His voice echoed through the darkness.
The sound was almost pitiful.
Almost.
Peter stared at him.
A strange feeling surfaced inside him.
Satisfaction.
Seeing this monster finally broken.
Seeing the man responsible for countless deaths experiencing fear.
Seeing justice approaching.
The feeling disturbed him slightly.
Was it his own emotion?
Or Spider-Man Noir’s?
Perhaps both.
Before he could think further—
THUD.
A heavy sound echoed through the tunnel.
Peter frowned.
Something was moving.
Slowly.
Unsteadily.
A figure emerged from the darkness.
Green Goblin saw it first.
And immediately began screaming.
“No!”
His eyes widened in terror.
“No, stay away from me!”
The approaching figure stumbled forward.
Covered from head to toe in spiders.
Hundreds of them.
Thousands, perhaps.
The sight was horrifying.
It was Kraven the Hunter.
Or what remained of him.
His skin was swollen.
His face was barely recognizable.
Venom coursed through his body.
Yet somehow he was still moving.
Still alive.
Still crawling forward.
“Osborn…”
His voice sounded broken.
Weak.
“Help me…”
“Please…”
“Save me…”
Green Goblin’s entire body trembled.
“No!”
“You stay away!”
“You disgusting freak!”
The irony was almost painful.
The man who built his empire among society’s outcasts was now recoiling from one of his own allies.
Kraven stretched out a trembling hand.
“Osborn…”
Then he collapsed forward.
Directly onto Green Goblin.
The result was immediate.
The spiders transferred instantly.
Like a living plague.
Like a wave of black death.
They flooded onto Green Goblin’s body.
Into his clothing.
Across his face.
Into his mouth.
His screams shook the tunnel.
“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”
The sound echoed endlessly.
Peter remained motionless.
The spiders seemed almost purposeful.
Almost intelligent.
Like instruments of vengeance.
Like executioners.
Like the spirits of every victim Green Goblin had ever created.
They bit.
Tore.
Devoured.
Consumed.
The process wasn’t quick.
Nor was it merciful.
Eventually the screams weakened.
Then faded.
Then disappeared entirely.
When silence finally returned…
Only two skeletons remained.
— Find the original chapter at novelping.com.
Peter climbed onto the tunnel ceiling.
His hands and feet adhered effortlessly to the concrete.
From above, he stared at the scene below.
The spiders gradually dispersed.
Vanishing into cracks.
Disappearing into darkness.
As though they had never existed.
Only the skeletons proved otherwise.
For a long time, Peter said nothing.
Then—
“Was I right?”
The question escaped his lips unconsciously.
“Was it right to watch him die like that?”
Silence answered.
Then another voice appeared.
Not spoken aloud.
Not heard through ears.
But within his mind.
Peter’s voice.
And yet not his.
Spider-Man Noir.
“You’re still a teenager.”
The statement carried no judgment.
Only understanding.
Peter looked downward.
“Yes.”
The answer came softly.
A brief silence followed.
Then the older Peter spoke again.
“When I was your age, Uncle Ben took me to see Frankenstein.”
A faint smile appeared.
“It terrified me.”
“I couldn’t sleep afterward.”
Peter listened quietly.
“When I woke up from a nightmare…”
“Uncle Ben held me.”
The memory felt warm.
Painfully warm.
“I wanted him to tell me monsters weren’t real.”
The older Peter laughed softly.
“But Uncle Ben said I was old enough to understand the truth.”
“The truth?”
Peter asked.
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then:
“Monsters exist.”
Peter’s expression hardened slightly.
The voice continued.
“But monsters aren’t always creatures hiding under beds.”
“Sometimes they’re people.”
“Sometimes they’re hidden inside human hearts.”
“Sometimes the worst monsters wear human faces.”
The words echoed inside Peter’s mind.
“Beware the human heart, Peter.”
The silence that followed felt profound.
Eventually Peter smiled.
A genuine smile.
“Thank you.”
The words were directed toward Spider-Man Noir.
Toward the man whose memories he had inherited.
Toward the man who had helped him survive tonight.
After a few moments, another response arrived.
Quiet.
Sincere.
“No.”
The older Peter’s voice carried unexpected warmth.
“I should thank you.”
Peter blinked.
“For what?”
“For reminding me that justice and revenge aren’t always the same thing.”
The connection gradually weakened.
The conversation ended.
But Peter would remember those words forever.
One final glance.
Two skeletons.
A destroyed criminal empire.
A city finally free from Green Goblin’s shadow.
Then Peter climbed back toward the surface.
His work here was done.
Queens, New York
Peter’s eyes snapped open.
He sat upright in bed immediately.
The familiar room greeted him.
The posters.
The furniture.
The sunlight creeping through the curtains.
Home.
Peter quickly examined himself.
Pajamas.
Teenage body.
Everything normal.
Well…
Mostly.
Compared to Spider-Man Noir’s fully developed physique, his own body suddenly felt smaller.
“We’re getting there.”
Peter grinned.
“A few more years.”
“I’ll be taller.”
A pause.
“Definitely more handsome too.”
The joke eased some lingering tension.
But then Peter noticed something unusual.
His body felt different.
Sharper.
More natural.
More coordinated.
His Spider abilities seemed easier to control.
Almost instinctive.
Peter frowned thoughtfully.
Or perhaps…
The Web of Destiny transferred more than memories.
The possibility was exciting.
And slightly terrifying.
Peter glanced at the clock.
5:57 AM.
His eyes widened.
Nearly three hours had passed.
Exactly the same amount of time he had spent in Spider-Man Noir’s world.
The timelines were synchronized.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Then another thought struck him.
Tony Stark.
Peter immediately sat straighter.
Iron Man was coming today.
To his house.
To meet him.
The realization instantly erased any remaining sleepiness.
There was absolutely no way he was going back to bed now.
Imagine Tony Stark arriving while he was snoring.
Humiliating.
Completely humiliating.
Then another thought entered his mind.
A dangerous one.
“Wait.”
“Tony Stark is a billionaire.”
Peter blinked.
“Stark Industries is a giant corporation.”
Another blink.
“Does Stark exploit workers?”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Is Stark Industries secretly a sweatshop?”
A pause.
Then he groaned.
“Oh no.”
Spider-Man Noir’s influence.
Again.
Peter rubbed his face.
“Three hours.”
“Only three hours.”
“If it had been three days…”
He shuddered.
“Or three years…”
The idea was frightening.
Still…
The benefits were undeniable.
Peter quickly noticed changes in his thinking.
His observational abilities had improved dramatically.
Not just intelligence.
Analysis.
Deduction.
Investigation.
The skills Ben Urich taught Spider-Man Noir had partially become his own.
For example…
An ordinary person looked at a shoe and saw a shoe.
Peter now saw far more.
Height.
Weight.
Walking habits.
Occupation.
Financial status.
Personality traits.
Potential injuries.
All from a single glance.
It was incredible.
The skill felt almost supernatural.
And Peter suspected this was only the beginning.
There were probably many other benefits still hidden.
Benefits waiting to be discovered.
Finally, Peter closed his eyes and focused inward.
The giant Web of Destiny appeared once more.
Infinite.
Ancient.
Beautiful.
The glowing node representing Spider-Man Noir was no longer active.
Its light had faded.
Peter felt slightly disappointed.
But only slightly.
Because now he understood.
The light would return eventually.
And when it did…
Another adventure would begin.
His gaze drifted across the vast network.
Thousands.
Millions.
Perhaps countless nodes stretched into infinity.
Each one connected to a different Spider-Man.
A different world.
A different destiny.
Peter’s heartbeat quickened.
What would he find next?
A Spider-Man from the future?
A Spider-Man from another planet?
A Spider-Man who never lost Uncle Ben?
Or one who became something far darker?
The possibilities were endless.
And as Peter stared at the cosmic web, one particular node suddenly flickered.
Just once.
A faint pulse.
A distant signal.
Almost like an invitation.
Peter froze.
Then slowly smiled.
Because he knew one thing for certain.
His journey through the Spider-Verse had only just begun.
And somewhere beyond the Web of Destiny…
Another Spider-Man was waiting.
To Be Continued…
Author note :
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