Ed POV
Mars. Cold, dead, quiet. Exactly as I expected.
I stood inside a small barrier dome I'd set up, air circulating around me. The reason I was here? To summon him. Conquest. The most brutal Viltrumite I could think of. Sure, he couldn't kill me thanks to the failsafe, but unleashing him on my island? That was asking for unnecessary bloodshed. Out here, on a dead world, there was no one for him to hurt.
"System, summon Conquest," I said.
A bright light flashed before me, and there he was. Massive, scarred, radiating raw power. His eyes locked onto me for a moment, then swept across the desolate Martian surface before settling back.
"So…" His voice was gravel. "Are you my new king?"
"Not exactly," I replied evenly. "Think of me more like your new boss. Me, a king? That'll come later."
His lip curled, half sneer, half grin. "Then tell me, what planet do you want me to conquer first?"
"Neither. I don't want you conquering anything."
That caught him. His expression shifted, surprised. "If not conquest… then why summon me? Why bring me back?"
I took a step closer. "To give you a second chance. To help me build something better. And to let you finally live… John."
His brow furrowed. "What did you just call me?"
"Conquest isn't a name. It's a title. One you were chained to by the Viltrumite Empire. That's over. You need something new. So I'm giving you one. John."
He stared at me like I'd struck him.
"This is a clean slate," I continued. "You don't have to be what they made you. You don't have to be the monster, the weapon, the killer. You've got strength, yeah—but you can use it to protect instead of destroy. Be John the Protector, not Conquest the Conqueror."
I stopped right in front of him, looking him in the eye.
"And if you're honest with yourself… aren't you tired? Tired of being feared? Tired of being alone?"
Silence. For a long moment, the only sound was the faint hum of my dome's barrier. Then, his shoulders slumped.
"…Do you really think I can be something greater?"
"Yes," I said without hesitation. "The Viltrumite Empire is gone. You're free. Truly free. And I'm offering you that chance."
And then it happened. Slowly, almost trembling, he dropped to one knee. Bowed his head.
"Then Conquest is dead," he said, voice breaking. "I… I accept the name John. And you have my thanks."
For the first time, I saw it, tears streaking down his face.
"Thank you," John whispered. His voice cracked. "Thank you so much."
I hadn't realized until that moment how much just giving him a name—his name, meant to him.
And I was glad I did.
I walked up to John, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You're welcome. Come on, let me show you your new home," I said.
He wiped the last trace of tears from his face, then rose. Together, we launched off Mars, streaking through the void. It wasn't long before Earth filled our view, a vibrant blue and green jewel hanging in space. We stopped there, suspended, staring at it.
"I know you can't talk right now since you're holding your breath, but just nod if you understand me," I said.
He nodded.
"Good. This world… it's not like the one you knew. Nobody here knows who you are, and no other Viltrumites are around. Except one you might remember."
That got his attention. His brows furrowed, confusion breaking through the hardened warrior look.
"Anissa. I saw her a long time ago. But she's not the same woman you remember. She's… different. Friends with Battle Beast, if you can believe that. She's even mentoring a young kid. From what I've heard, she's trying to be a hero."
That surprised him. His eyes widened slightly, almost disbelieving.
"That's why I'm telling you this," I said firmly. "It's proof. Proof that you can change. That you can be better."
He nodded, slower this time, but I could tell he understood.
I floated closer, put a hand on his shoulder again, and with a flash of light, we teleported straight to my island.
A minute later – Sanctuary, Meeting Room
"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" Anissa's voice cracked like a whip. She stood across the table from me, fire in her eyes. "You summoned Conquest, and brought him here? To an island filled with children and civilians!? Do you even understand how much damage he could do in a single day? He could wipe out the entire planet!"
Conquest, no, John, was settling into his quarters elsewhere. I was glad I'd pulled Anissa into the media room before she could go charging at him. One, she'd lose. Two, if Battle Beast caught wind of it, he'd be right there beside her.
"First of all," I said calmly, "his name is John. Not Conquest. Second, yeah, I should've told you beforehand. That's on me. But he's not the enemy."
Her glare hardened. "Not the enemy? Do you know how many planets he's razed? How many billions he's killed? Even other Viltrumites wouldn't stand beside him. He's a monster!"
"I know," I said quietly. "I know everything about him. Just like I know everything about you. Don't forget, you were once like him. And just like you, he never really had a choice. This… this is his chance to be something else. Something better."
That stopped her. She didn't speak, jaw tightening as she thought.
"Look, I get it. You're worried about the people here. I am too. But think about it, you thought the same about Battle Beast. And now? You two are practically best friends. That only happened because you gave him a chance. I'm asking you to do the same here. Give John a chance. He wants what everyone on this island wants—a fresh start."
She sighed, arms crossing."Look, Ed… I love that you see the good in people. I love that you gave me a chance when no one else would. And because of that, I'll give John a chance too. But—" her eyes locked on mine, sharp, "you need to understand. Not everyone you summon is going to want redemption. Some won't care. Some might even use that chance against you."
I nodded. "I know. And when that time comes, I'll be careful. You don't have to worry about that."
She studied me for a moment longer, then finally turned away.Without another word, she walked out, leaving me alone with the weight of her warning.
Peter Parker POV
I was in Sanctuary, hitting the weights. Not your average dumbbells either—these were ridiculous, heavy enough to crush a car if I dropped them wrong. But that's exactly what I needed. Something to push back against, something to keep me from drowning in my own head.
Because, yeah… my head's a mess right now.
Beth knows. She knows I'm Spider-Man.
I haven't told Ed yet. Not because I don't trust him, it's the opposite actually. I do trust him. That's the problem. He's so careful about his identity, the way he keeps every little detail locked down. Like a vault. And me? I slipped up. And now Beth knows.
Not only that, she put two and two together and figured out Cindy is Silk. Thank God she doesn't know about the others. Miles, Gwen, Jess, they're safe. For now. Because I didn't tell her a thing.
Still… the secret's out, at least a little. And once it's out, it's like cracks in glass. No matter how much you patch it, eventually, it spreads.
So here I am, lifting weights like I'm trying to crush the guilt out of myself.
And as if Beth knowing my secret wasn't enough? There's this.
MJ asked me out. Yeah, that MJ. She caught me completely off guard after the monster invasion, just walked right up and asked if I wanted to go on a date. Which would be fine, great, even, except… Cindy asked me out too. And Julia. And Anya.
All at once.
They all just dropped it on me like some kind of ambush. My brain blue-screened. I didn't even come up with an excuse, didn't say "maybe later," nothing. Just froze in place like a deer in headlights. Luckily they gave me space instead of pressing it, but now I'm stuck here lifting weights and praying gravity somehow crushes the decision out of me.
"Hey, Peter, everything okay?"
I racked the bar and looked up, it was Steve. And behind him, Laura. Of course. The one girl who makes me more nervous than kryptonite around Superman. Laura's hard to read, sometimes she's normal, sometimes she's all claws and feral stares. And, yeah, she has this… thing where she sniffs people. She sniffs me the most, though. I don't know what that means and I'm too scared to ask.
"Everything's fine," I lied. "Just… got a lot on my mind."
"Like what? Maybe I can help," Steve offered.
"Can you help with girl problems?"
"Oh." He chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, kid, that's beyond my expertise. I was never good with girls."
"Really? You and Peggy seem to be doing amazing."
"Now, sure. But you should've seen me back in the day. First time I met her, I was a stuttering idiot. Made plenty of mistakes too. Honestly still surprised she stuck around."
I hesitated, then sighed. "…Can I ask you something anyway? I just need advice."
"Go ahead."
"What do you do when four women ask you out?"
Steve blinked. "At the same time?"
"No, different times. Except two. They asked me out together."
His jaw dropped. "…Okay. I've fought monsters, Nazis, and a very sadistic mutant, but I've never been in that situation. I don't think anyone on this island has been in that situation."
"No kidding," I muttered.
Laura tilted her head. "What do they mean by 'ask out'?"
I rubbed my face. "It's when someone likes someone else. They ask if you want to spend time together… romantically."
"Romantically?"
"Yeah. It's like… love. But not the family kind. It's with someone new. You care about them, think about them all the time, being around them makes you happy. And when you're near them… you feel like nothing can go wrong."
I realized too late I was thinking about all of them, MJ, Cindy, Julia, Anya, and my chest tightened with guilt. Because I really did care about them. Not just as friends.
"Oh. I see," Laura said quietly.
Steve nodded, impressed. "Didn't expect you to know so much about love at your age, Peter."
"Yeah, that speech even surprised me. But it came from the heart."
"My advice?" Steve said gently. "Follow your heart. Don't overthink it. If you're honest, even if it hurts, the right ones will understand."
"Yeah. Easy for you to say. Harder when my heart's all over the place," I muttered.
Then Laura just blurted it out. "Peter. I love you."
Both me and Steve snapped our heads toward her, wide-eyed.
She didn't even flinch. "Would you like to go out with me?"
Ed POV
Right now I'm in the lab with the Mahler Twins, or a pair of them. One of them had already cloned himself again. Honestly? I stopped trying to figure out why. At this point, two brains are better than one, and their brains are brilliant.
"This is incredible," one of the Twins said, studying the device in front of us. "You can actually transfer a mind into a new body, not just copy it?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "Still based on your original design, but I upgraded it. This one doesn't just make a duplicate, it fully transfers consciousness into a new brain."
The other Twin leaned back, suspicious. "Then I gotta ask, why? You said you wanted clones, but for what reason? And who are we making these bodies for? You planning to use your own DNA?"
I shook my head. "Can't. One of my powers makes it impossible."
"Then whose DNA are we supposed to use?"
I paused, tapping my fingers against the table. "…Still figuring that part out. Be patient. In the meantime, you can work on whatever you want, so long as it isn't dangerous. And if either of you creates something that puts anyone on this island at risk… well, you can guess what happens next."
"Hey, hey, no need for threats, we get it," one Twin said quickly.
"Yeah. I've died once already," the other added.
"You mean I died," the first snapped back. "You're just a clone. You only got here after."
"Oh, we're not starting this again." The second folded his arms. "I'm the original here."
And just like that, they were bickering again.
Honestly? I don't think either of them are the original. My theory? The real Mahler died a long time ago. He wasn't even a twin, just one guy, a crazy-smart scientist, who cloned himself out of his own DNA and tweaked it. Made the "Twins" stronger, sharper. At first, the clone probably just obeyed orders. Until one day it snapped, killed the original, and convinced itself it was the real one. Then the cycle kept repeating. Copy after copy, each one convinced it's the true Mahler.
That's my theory, anyway. I could be wrong. But looking at them argue across the lab table, I doubt it.
"Okay, while you two are bickering like children, I'm going to go recruit some people," I said flatly.
"Hey, I am not a—"
I didn't even let him finish. I teleported away.
Third Person POV
In a dingy trailer park, two men sat in a cramped trailer, arguing.
"Dude, I'm telling you, we should just go out tonight, find those gangs and wipe 'em out. Take 'em all down in one sweep," one said, leaning forward with manic energy.
"And I'm telling you that's impossible. There's only two of us," the other shot back, frustrated. "We take one group out tonight, then we go after the rest tomorrow."
"Yeah, and by then the rest scatter like rats".
The two? None other than Peacemaker and Vigilante, half-geared up and already buzzing with reckless plans. They eventually left the trailer, stepping into the cool night air, only to freeze mid-step.
Standing casually in front of them was Arsenal.
"Hello," Arsenal said calmly.
"…Hi?" they both muttered, caught completely off guard.
"Knockout people say what"
"What?" they said in unison, just as a strange flash went off. Arsenal had already pulled out a sleek, alien-looking gun. No bullets. No lasers. Just a brilliant burst of light.
Peacemaker and Vigilante collapsed instantly, hitting the dirt like puppets with their strings cut.
Elsewhere
In a small suburban house, the sound of shouting rattled the walls.
"Fuck you!" a teenage girl screamed, face red with rage.
"Fuck you!" a middle-aged man roared back, his voice gravelly and raw.
"Fuck you! You're a terrible father!" she shrieked again, tears in her eyes.
The man clenched his fists. "You don't think I fucking know that? You don't think I wake up every day knowing I'm a shit father, Tyla? I know. But I'm trying, I'm here, aren't I?"
"The only reason you're here is because Mom's dead!"
His jaw tightened, eyes burning with guilt. "You're wrong about that. I didn't have to be here at all. Not when she was alive, not now. I could've stayed away. I could've kept killing for money. But I didn't. I gave it up, for you. Do you know what I do now? I clean toilets. I'm a goddamn janitor. I fucking hate it."
Tyla's voice cracked. "Then why come back at all? I was doing fine on my own!"
"Fine?" he barked. "You were spiraling. Getting into trouble. Running headfirst into the same kind of life that ruined me. If I didn't step in, you'd already be in a grave. And don't fool yourself, you'd never be like me."
He paused, looking her dead in the eyes, voice dropping cold.
"You don't have the focus. You're too emotional. And honestly? You'd make a terrible hitwoman. You're a terrible shot."
The words hit like a slap, hanging in the air between them.
Tyla went silent. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, but no words came out. You could see the sting in her eyes, hurt, frustration, and maybe even guilt, all mixing together.
Robert's anger cracked. His voice softened, trembling just a bit.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, look, I'm trying to be a good father. I really am. But I need you to give me something, Tyla. Just an inch. Meet me halfway, and I'll do the rest. Please. I don't want to be the man I was. I don't want to be that monster anymore. I want to be a good father to you. A good man. Because I love you, Tyla. Even if it's hard for me to show it… even if it's hard for me to say it… I do. I really do."
Tyla didn't answer. She turned her back, storming off to her room. Before slamming the door, she grabbed a small ball lying on the floor and whipped it at him. It missed by a mile, bouncing harmlessly against the wall.
Robert called after her with a bitter laugh."Told you. Terrible shot."
The door slammed. Silence filled the house. Robert dropped heavily onto the couch, letting out a long, exhausted sigh.
This was Robert DuBois, better known in darker corners of the world as Bloodsport. Once a feared assassin trained from childhood by a cruel father, he was a master marksman, able to turn almost anything into a weapon. His life had been nothing but blood, contracts, and shadows.
But six months ago, everything changed. The woman he once loved, the only person who tethered him to humanity, lost her fight with cancer. When she died, Robert dropped everything. He didn't even go to the funeral openly; he paid for it in silence, watching from the distance. He knew the one thing left that mattered now was the daughter he had abandoned long ago.
For a month he lingered on the edges of her life, watching. And what he saw broke him: Tyla running wild, getting into trouble, acting out, falling into a spiral that would swallow her whole. He realized if he didn't step in, she'd end up like him—or worse.
So, he gave up the assassin's life. He buried the weapons. He forged a fake name, a clean identity, and took a soul-crushing job as a janitor. Scrubbing floors. Emptying trash. Cleaning toilets. All to build some kind of foundation so he could raise his daughter.
But it wasn't going well. Tyla hadn't forgiven him, not for leaving, not for missing her childhood, not even for failing to show up when her mother died. She saw a stranger, not a father. And Robert? He carried the guilt like an open wound, too raw to heal.
For all his skill, all his weapons, all his kills… the one target he couldn't reach was her heart.
Robert sat slumped on the couch, head in his hands after Tyla stormed off. The silence felt heavier than any firefight he'd ever been in.
"Wow," a voice said behind him. "That was crazy intense."
Robert shot to his feet, gun drawn before the last syllable left the intruder's mouth. But the man standing in his living room wasn't fazed in the slightest.
"Yeah, sorry. That's not gonna work," Arsenal said casually.
Robert blinked, recognition dawning."You—"
"Relax," Arsenal cut him off. "I'm not here to arrest you. But, bad news? You are about to get knocked out."
Before Robert could squeeze the trigger, Arsenal pulled out a strange pistol and fired. No bang, no beam—just a blinding flash. Robert's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.
The smell of garlic and sizzling meat filled the air. Domino, golden eye glinting in the kitchen light, stirred her pan without a care in the world.
"Man, that smells delicious," Arsenal said, perched at her counter like he'd been there the whole time.
Domino didn't even flinch. She turned, smirking."Thanks. Recipe I stole off a mobster."
Arsenal tilted his head. "you Not surprised. You don't look too shocked to see me."
"I'm not," Domino replied. "Didn't know when, but I knew it'd happen. Universe has a funny way of dropping hints."
"Your power?"
"Yeah. Luck. It whispers in ways you wouldn't understand." She wiped her hands on a towel. "So… what now? You gonna knock me out?"
Arsenal grinned. "That was the plan. I mean, I've tested this gun on three people already. But you seem like you'll come quietly."
"Oh, I'll come. But go ahead. Indulge yourself. Use the toy."
"Thanks. And just for that, I'll catch you before you hit the ground."
Domino chuckled. "Gentlemanly."
"Only with people who deserve it." Arsenal pulled the trigger. Another flash and Domino crumpled, unconscious. True to his word, he caught her before she hit the tiles.
"You're a cool one, Domino. Think I'm gonna like you."
A warm home in the suburbs. A wife, two kids, laughter as they packed for the park.
"Sure you don't want to come?" his wife asked at the door.
"Yeah, I'm sure. House to myself for a day? Who wouldn't want that?" Frank smirked.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But don't spend the whole day watching football."
"No promises. Love you."
"Love you too."
When the car pulled away, Frank waited a beat before heading to the garage. From under a tarp, he dragged out a heavy trunk and popped it open. Inside: guns. Enough to wage a war. He picked one up, expertly disassembling it with practiced hands.
"You know," a voice drawled, "some people collect stamps. This is… something else."
Frank spun around, pistol raised. And froze.
"Yeah, I'm just gonna save us both the trouble," Arsenal said, already aiming his strange weapon. "You being shocked, me explaining, it's a time saver."
He fired. Flash. Frank Castle hit the ground.
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AN: Go check out my other fanfic it cell, in DC with my friends, it only got four chapter right now, it's new.