For Peter, Spider-Sense was arguably the ability he trusted the most.
Anyone who had ever been Spider-Man knew just how incredible Spider-Sense could be at critical moments.
Its accuracy was astonishing.
It almost never made a mistake.
So Peter didn’t hesitate for even half a second.
He immediately turned toward the direction his Spider-Sense was warning him about.
The next moment—
A bizarre scene unfolded before his eyes.
High above the distant Brooklyn Bridge, a rapidly expanding ring of multicolored energy suddenly appeared.
A streak of brilliant white light shot out from the center of the ring, racing toward Peter at an unbelievable speed.
Within that beam of light, Peter could barely make out the silhouette of someone wearing the classic red-and-blue Spider-Man suit.
His Spider-Sense had clearly reacted to this unusual arrival.
Wrapped in the white light, the mysterious Spider-Man streaked across the skyline of New York like a falling star, weaving between buildings at incredible speed.
Then—
Crash!
The unlucky Spider-Man slammed face-first into the street.
After completing an impressively long—and incredibly painful-looking—face-first skid across the pavement, he finally came to a stop.
Fortunately, Spider-Men were known for being ridiculously durable.
It only took him a few seconds to recover.
He slowly climbed to his feet, rubbing the back of his head as he looked around in complete confusion.
Aside from a few scrapes and scratches, he appeared perfectly fine.
His mobility hadn’t been affected in the slightest.
A moment later, his attention was drawn to the giant electronic billboards that were still broadcasting the breaking news.
“Whoa…
whoa…”
“Spider-Man is dead?”
“Doesn’t that mean…”
“I’m dead?”
He stared at the image of the blond Peter Parker displayed on the massive screen in complete disbelief.
Slowly, he reached up and removed his mask.
The face beneath it was almost identical to the one on the news broadcast.
Almost.
Unlike the young man on the screen, this Peter Parker carried the marks of time.
He looked at least twenty years older.
A genuine middle-aged Peter Parker.
His waist was noticeably thicker than it should have been, giving him the unmistakable appearance of someone who hadn’t exercised in quite some time.
Just as his brain began short-circuiting under the overwhelming flood of bizarre information—
A calm voice suddenly came from behind him.
“Looks like I’m not the only one taking an unexpected trip to this parallel universe.”
Startled, the middle-aged Peter Parker spun around.
His eyes widened.
Another Spider-Man hung upside down from a strand of webbing.
A second later, the newcomer released the web, flipped gracefully through the air, and landed in a flawless superhero pose.
“You…”
“You…”
“You’re Spider-Man too?”
The middle-aged Peter Parker pointed at him, his voice rising several octaves.
“That’s right.”
“A genuine Spider-Man.”
“Definitely not some cheap knockoff.”
The newly arrived Spider-Man was, of course, Peter.
Fortunately, he had always made a habit of carrying his Spider-Man suit with him.
Otherwise, he probably would have been forced to buy a cheap cosplay costume from a roadside comic book shop.
The moment he heard the word *knockoff*, the middle-aged Peter Parker’s expression instantly became serious.
“Aha.”
“Only a fake would go out of their way to insist they aren’t fake.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Let me guess.”
“Who’s under that mask?”
“Mysterio?”
“Or maybe Chameleon?”
He paused before shaking his head.
“No…”
“Chameleon couldn’t create visual effects this realistic.”
“You must be Mysterio.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he lowered himself into a familiar Spider-Man combat stance.
One hand touched the ground.
The other rested behind him.
Every muscle tensed, ready to spring into action.
“I don’t know how you escaped from prison.”
“But I’m sending you right back.”
“And while I’m at it…”
“I’ll turn that ridiculous fishbowl helmet of yours into a projector.”
“I’m sure it’ll be a huge improvement.”
Peter couldn’t help sighing.
“Come on.”
“Even if you don’t believe me…”
“You should at least trust your own instincts.”
He pointed at his own head.
Then at the older Peter’s.
“Feel it carefully.”
“Spider-Sense doesn’t lie.”
At that exact moment—
Something extraordinary happened.
Both Spider-Men felt the same electric pulse ripple through their Spider-Sense.
It was as though their instincts had synchronized.
Or perhaps…
Resonated with one another.
The middle-aged Peter Parker froze.
The combat stance he had been holding slowly relaxed.
After a brief moment of silence, he scratched his messy hair with an embarrassed smile.
“Alright…”
“I guess I was a little too nervous.”
“Looks like I overreacted.”
He let out an awkward laugh before adding,
“But to be fair…”
“I actually guessed you were Peter Parker the moment you started talking.”
“You talk just as much as I do.”
“And that’s a wonderful quality.”
“Not many people can appreciate it.”
Peter simply smiled and nodded.
He didn’t expose the older man’s obvious attempt to save face.
*Middle-aged men have their pride.*
*Those who understand…
understand.*
Peter extended his hand.
“Peter Benjamin Parker.”
“I arrived in this parallel universe a little earlier than you.”
The older Peter reached out without hesitation.
The two Spider-Men shook hands.
For the first time since arriving in this strange world, they had officially formed a temporary Spider-Team.
“That’s a relief.”
The middle-aged Peter let out a long sigh.
“I desperately needed someone who actually knows what’s going on.”
“My brain is still spinning.”
“I don’t have the slightest idea what’s happening.”
He rubbed his stubble-covered face vigorously, finally forcing himself to accept the unbelievable reality.
He had truly crossed into another universe.
And within minutes of arriving, he had already learned two shocking truths about alternate versions of himself.
One Peter Parker…
Was dead.
The other…
Looked no older than fifteen or sixteen.
Yet the calm confidence in his eyes made him seem like an experienced veteran who had already fought countless battles.
*What an unbelievably ridiculous day…*
A few hours later…
Inside a Turkish kebab restaurant.
The middle-aged Peter took another enormous bite of roasted meat before speaking with complete seriousness.
“I still prefer Margherita pizza.”
“These Turkish kebabs are way too greasy.”
“My family doctor keeps telling me to cut back on fatty food.”
Despite his words, he continued stuffing one mouthful after another into his mouth without slowing down.
Peter couldn’t help smiling.
He picked up the now-empty plate and flipped it over.
The bottom was completely blank.
“No nutrition label.”
“No calorie count.”
He looked at the older Peter with a completely straight face.
“That means it has zero calories.”
“So eat as much as you want.”
The middle-aged Peter blinked.
A second later, he realized Peter was joking.
He laughed.
“You’re a funny kid.”
“I’m starting to like you.”
After wiping the grease from the corner of his mouth with a napkin, he finally set down his utensils.
His expression gradually became serious again.
“Alright.”
“Back to business.”
He looked directly at Peter.
“Are you absolutely certain the information you gathered is accurate?”
“Thomas is really the mastermind behind all of this?”