After the meeting, Charlie walked home alone.
The sky above shimmered with streams of light from the aerial highway, where hovercars zipped like lightning in perfect order. Sleek aircraft wove between towering skyscrapers, and sky trains, like long dragons, snaked through the city's futuristic pulse.
Yet the ground below remained stuck in the past, clashing with the era's progress, rough and neglected.
Street shops looked desolate, fading with time as those unable to keep up with the age slowly vanished.
Productivity had advanced, but the world was still the world.
One person's power couldn't change it.
Not even superheroes.
Not even the Invincible Spider-Man.
Ding~
Charlie flicked a coin into the bowl of a street busker. The golden pistol at his waist trembled slightly.
Fin Fang Foom broke free of the golden webbing's seal.
"Invincible Spider-Man, your world isn't much different from other universes," Fin Fang Foom said.
Charlie's expression stayed calm. "Got any advice, Fin Fang Bro?"
Fin Fang Foom replied, "I overheard everything. Ragnarök is coming. You can't escape it."
"So what?"
"For gods like us, Ragnarök is the end."
Fin Fang Foom's tone grew heavy. "The universe's resources are finite. Fate doesn't allow gods to live forever. Every so often, Ragnarök wipes out the so-called gods.
You're unlucky. Just became a god and now face Ragnarök. It'll end everything. There's only one way to avoid becoming dust in this disaster."
Charlie raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-step. "What's that?"
"Run!"
Fin Fang Foom continued, "No one's ever stopped Ragnarök. Flee this universe, and you'll have the best chance of surviving."
"Death doesn't scare me," Charlie said with a smile.
Fin Fang Foom went quiet for a moment before continuing. "I know you don't fear death, but there are things worse than death—like being sealed."
Charlie pulled out the golden pistol. "Like you?"
"This isn't a joke."
Fin Fang Foom's voice hardened. "Gods are eternal, yet they fall in Ragnarök. You know accidents happen in the process.
You don't fear death, but you fear other things.
Those things will appear.
What you cherish will be lost.
I've seen countless gods lose everything because they didn't believe in fate—including their lives."
The totem on the golden pistol glowed faintly as Fin Fang Foom stared at Charlie.
"Spider-Men are especially like this. Even without godhood, you're bound by fate. Becoming a god only tightens its grip. You thought you escaped the Spider's destiny by placing your totem in the Web of Life and Destiny, but fate follows you like a shadow, dragging you back into its abyss."
Charlie's body trembled.
He understood.
"You're saying the reason for Ragnarök… is me?"
Fin Fang Foom nodded. "If I'm not mistaken, yes."
Charlie frowned.
Ragnarök's timing felt too convenient. Fin Fang Foom's words rekindled the helplessness he'd felt facing fate before.
Even as a god, even after placing his Spider Totem in the Web of Life and Destiny, fate still found him.
"So no matter what I do, Ragnarök will happen," he sighed.
Fin Fang Foom nodded. "You can try to stop it. Maybe I'm wrong."
"Alright."
Clinging to a sliver of hope, Charlie formed a seal with his hands, opening a portal.
Buzz~
Stepping through, he arrived at a dimly lit bar.
Business was slow—it was daytime.
At the counter, a tall figure worked with his back to Charlie, washing glasses and grumbling about the previous night's customers.
"Damn humans. How dare they complain about my ice cubes? I'm the legendary Dark Elf King! The best there is! Next time I see you, I'll carve your ice into turds!"
Malekith scrubbed the glasses furiously. Hearing footsteps, he sighed, put on a professional smile, and turned.
"Sir, we're not open yet, please—oh no, it can't be!"
The moment he saw Charlie, Malekith dropped the glass.
In an instant, fear consumed him. He unleashed dark magic to flee.
But the dark energy was devoured by golden webbing, and the legendary Dark Elf King dangled in the air like a helpless chick.
"Wait, Spider-Man, I have something to say!"
Surprisingly, Charlie didn't take him out immediately.
With a flick of his finger, the shattered glass on the floor reformed under an invisible force.
Another gesture, and juices from the fridge swirled into the glass, forming a colorful stream.
Malekith's face paled.
He sensed no telekinetic energy.
This wasn't a superpower or magic—it was…
A god!
Only a true god could wield such effortless control, a faint echo of the universe's rules.
He couldn't imagine another explanation.
Spider-Man was strong, but his supernatural abilities were limited.
The Dark Elves, though called gods, were like Asgardians—strong and long-lived, but mere mortals compared to true gods.
Only a few in the Nine Realms wielded real divine power.
Like Surtur with his Eternal Flame.
Or Odin.
Malekith despaired.
Charlie swirled the glass, eyeing him.
"Long time no see. How's it going?" he asked, like greeting an old friend.
Malekith's face was pure terror.
"I'm good! Listen, I've given up on ruling Earth and the Aether. Please, you have to believe me—I'm no threat to you!"
Charlie shook his head. "You were never a threat to me."
Malekith: "…"
Ouch, that stung!
He nodded quickly. "Right, right, no threat! Please let me go. I'll stay out of trouble!"
"Will you?"
Charlie sipped the juice, his gaze piercing.
"How can I trust you?"
"I'll prove it right now!"
"Fine."
Charlie waved, and the golden webbing vanished into the void. Malekith scrambled to the bar, showing off his bartending skills.
Three minutes later—
Boom~
A flicker of dark fire ignited in the glass, turning the liquid a vibrant… black.
"Enjoy," Malekith said confidently, sliding the glass to Charlie.
Charlie: "…"
Well, damn, he found a hobby?
He glanced at the dark cocktail and shook his head.
"I don't drink."
"Really?" Malekith deflated.
Then Charlie poured the drink into the golden pistol's barrel.
Malekith: "???"
What the hell?
As he stood stunned, the pistol trembled, and Fin Fang Foom began his critique.
Cough cough. "This drink's interesting.
No aroma, but the moment it hits, you get the smoky bite of tequila and the botanical kick of gin, with the base liquor and fruit notes perfectly layered.
The front's crisp and slightly bitter, the mid-palate blends alcohol and spices in a curious reaction—sweet but not cloying. The finish lingers with caramel, the balance of sweet, sour, bitter, and salty near perfection.
Technique's flawless—clean, precise, perfectly timed.
But creatively, there's a flaw. You used dark energy to lock in the alcohol and spice aromas for an intense taste experience. I see you added a special trick for a seamless visual-to-taste transition, but you missed the mark."
Charlie blinked, surprised.
You actually know your stuff?
Malekith, nervous but eager, clutched the pistol. "Where did I go wrong, sir?"
Fin Fang Foom grinned. "You shouldn't lock the aromas—release them. Color, aroma, and taste must harmonize perfectly. You've got a lot to learn."
Malekith's eyes lit up with realization.
"I get it! Thank you, sir! May I know your name?"
"Call me Fin Fang Bro."
"Alright, Fin Fang Bro, you know your drinks. Can we keep talking?"
"Of course. It's rare for me to meet someone like you. I don't mind teaching you the basics."
"Thank you, Fin Fang Bro!"
"No problem."
They chatted away, leaving Charlie as a bystander.
As night fell, the bar's popularity surged, and Malekith got busy.
Charlie didn't interrupt.
He left with Fin Fang Foom.
On the street, Charlie glanced back at the bustling bar and shook his head.
"Once, his dream was to rule the Nine Realms," he said.
Fin Fang Foom chuckled. "You sure that was a dream?"
Charlie paused. "Alright, he's found something he loves. That's good."
"You're letting him go?" Fin Fang Foom sounded surprised.
Charlie shrugged. "He's gone straight. Why hold a grudge?"
"He could unleash his inner demon any time."
"We'll deal with it then."
Charlie raised his hand, dark red particles pulsing in his palm.
"And he handed over the Aether. We've gotta be fair."
Fin Fang Foom facepalmed. "I'm saying gods don't play fair."
"That's why Ragnarök exists."
Charlie sent the Aether into the void, sealing it in the Web of Life and Destiny with golden webbing.
"Godly power isn't scary. Unrestrained power is. You so-called gods need to do some self-reflection."
"Us? You're a god now too."
"I'm Spider-Man. I don't have that kind of power."
"Heh, denying it won't dodge Ragnarök. It's got you marked."
"I'm not thinking that far."
Charlie formed a seal and stepped through a portal.
A dimensional space tethered to Earth.
Darkness reigned, thick with the stench of death.
As Charlie arrived, endless hellish lava surged from the shadows, forming jagged, horn-like peaks. Atop one, a disheveled woman knelt, waiting for her weakening seal to break.
But an uninvited guest disrupted her plans.
Buzz~
In the darkness, radiant particles coalesced into Charlie's form.
The woman's eyes, hidden behind her matted hair, widened in shock.
"A god…"
She murmured, looking up, her deathly aura intensifying.
"Did Odin send you to reinforce the seal? No… this isn't Asgardian power."
Her face twisted in surprise. Charlie, silent, conjured a brilliant web in the sky.
Buzz~
BOOM!!
An unimaginable pressure descended, forcing her to the ground, trembling.
Argh~
The overwhelming force crushed her, suppressing her deathly aura. Hela roared in defiance.
"Damn you, who are you?!"
"Just a passing Spider-Man. Remember that."
"Damn Spider-Man, I'll get out, just you wait!"
BOOM!!
Golden webbing enveloped her, sealing her deathly aura completely.
Charlie dusted his hands and strutted off.
Hela's roars echoed in the deathly space.
"Jerk, couldn't you dust your own butt?!"
…
After dealing with Hela, Charlie's sense of unease grew.
It was too easy.
But no matter. Two threats remained.
He gathered Thor and the others, arriving in Asgard via the Rainbow Bridge.
This time, Asgard's people greeted Spider-Man with even greater enthusiasm.
"Welcome to glorious Asgard!"
An elderly man offered Charlie flowers, while Sif, bypassing Thor, approached Charlie directly.
"Spider-Man, have my child!"
Charlie: "…"
Not even pretending?
His popularity was overwhelming.
"Dear enthusiastic fan, please refrain from such primal requests. Gods don't indulge in nonsense like that."
"I want the strongest child," Sif said earnestly. "Is that too much?"
Charlie: "…"
She's just like Ophelia.
Terrifying.
Thankfully, Odin's arrival broke the awkwardness.
"Invincible Spider-Man, you're here for Surtur, aren't you?"
Odin's smile was kind, but Charlie sensed his waning divine power.
If Ragnarök came, he'd likely be the first to fall.