Iron Man stood frozen, staring at the disappearing silhouette in the sky. His voice carried a rare weight.
"I know... That guy is terrifying."
The clash between Nathan and the silver symbiote-possessed Spider-Man had left an indelible impression. For Tony Stark, who had faced gods and monsters alike, this battle hit differently.
He clenched his fists.
"No… I need to upgrade again. This power isn't enough to protect Earth."
His mind was already racing.
"Time to prioritize the Mark 50 armor."
But then, as if catching himself brooding too seriously, he huffed and added:
"Right after I get a cheeseburger. I need to calm down."
War Machine blinked.
"...Seriously?"
Meanwhile, Spider-Man slowly regained consciousness in the crater. His mask was half torn, revealing bruised features. He stared blankly toward the sky, still processing what had happened.
That man… who was he?
He had received an incredible power boost through Riot's possession—enough to challenge the Avengers. And yet, he had been utterly crushed.
More confusing was the fact that the stranger didn't trigger his spider-sense—as if he had never existed in the same frequency.
Unbeknownst to him, Nathan had carefully designed a method to shield himself from all Spider Telepathy, ever since his encounter with Gwen. A layer of special radio waves ensured that he remained invisible to other spider-based beings.
Suddenly—
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
A heavy stomping echoed across the battlefield. The Anti-Hulk Armor appeared, gleaming in the moonlight.
Inside the giant suit, Tony Stark's voice came through.
"Spider-Man, you're under arrest."
Because Civil War hadn't yet begun in this timeline, Tony hadn't officially met Peter Parker. But as usual, Stark had already done his homework.
Peter looked down, guilty and trembling.
"Mr. Stark… I… I didn't mean to… The symbiote… it took over… I didn't do it on purpose…"
Iron Man's voice softened just a little.
"It's okay. Let's talk first."
Then, turning slightly—
"Venom. You too. Don't even think about leaving."
But Venom had already taken off into the nearby forest.
"Try and catch me! NO THANK YOU!"
He vanished.
Iron Man's helmet turned toward War Machine and Hawkeye.
"...Well? Why didn't you stop him?"
War Machine grumbled, emerging from his half-shattered suit.
"Blame Spider-Boy. He trashed my armor."
Hawkeye added bitterly, holding a broken bow.
"He snapped my best arrow. My last Vibranium shaft. That was custom-made."
They both shot annoyed glares at Peter.
"I… I really didn't mean it…" Peter said, nearly in tears.
Rhodey sighed and yelled behind him:
"Happy! Get the car."
Peter Parker, still a high school student, lowered his head and followed without resistance.
---
Meanwhile, in the Shadows: The Hand's Crisis
Far from the battlefield, in a secret mountain fortress, the remaining elders of The Hand gathered. Their eyes were dark, their brows furrowed.
"Still no sign of the leader," murmured an old woman.
"Could she have been… killed?" an elder whispered.
That word alone sent chills down the room.
"Impossible," one said quickly. "She had nearly completed her fusion with Lord Cthulhu. Her power was almost inhuman."
Another elder replied grimly,
"But what if that mysterious man was stronger than we imagined? What if he was just toying with us at the docks before?"
The theory sparked murmurs of agreement.
"If the leader is dead again," the woman muttered, "we have to find where Lord Cthulhu will reincarnate this time."
She led the group toward a sacred artifact—a suspended miniature stone earth, used to locate the next Black Sky (the body prepared for Cthulhu's rebirth).
They began chanting.
Dark black energy flowed from their bodies into the stone.
But nothing happened.
Not even a flicker.
"…Is it broken?"
"No," whispered one elder, eyes wide with revelation.
"The leader isn't dead. That's why it's not showing anything."
"What?!"
"She's not dead… she's imprisoned."
Gasps erupted.
"You mean… someone has imprisoned Lord Cthulhu?"
"That man dares to detain a god?!"
But the elder shook his head gravely.
"Cthulhu hasn't fully merged with the leader yet. They're still vulnerable. That man must've struck during the weakest phase."
Another elder clenched his fists.
"He's doomed. When Cthulhu finishes merging, the power will be unstoppable."
Their eyes glimmered with renewed hope.
"Yes… Yes! The leader will return in an invincible posture!"
"Soon, the true might of Lord Cthulhu will crush that arrogant intruder!"
They had no idea that Nathan had already begun draining the demonic power from the fusion, halting the process entirely.
The future they imagined? A fantasy.
---
Elsewhere: Mutants Hunted Like Prey
Amidst a forested clearing, three figures watched from the shadows.
In front of them, a squad of mercenaries with live ammo had cornered a young Mutant. He was panting, bleeding, but still on his feet.
One of the soldiers shouted:
"Don't move! You're under arrest by Essex Security!"
The Mutant spat blood, eyes blazing with defiance.
"You want me to surrender? Let you dissect me? Use my organs for experiments? Then dump me in the wild like garbage?"
From the shadows, the observers flinched.
His words were too real. Too painful.
"I won't kneel. Not to you butchers. I'd rather die on my feet!"
With a scream, his arms morphed into gleaming blades, and he lunged at the nearest soldiers.
RATATATAT!
Gunfire exploded.
Bullets tore through his legs.
He crashed to the ground, screaming in agony.
The mercenaries descended, kicking and beating him. One stomped his arms. Another cursed and spat on him.
"You worthless freak! You really thought you could fight back?"
They were about to finish him when—
CLANG!
A sharp tearing sound erupted from the dark.
"Who's there?!"
From the trees, a small figure burst forward—a young girl with wild eyes and two glowing claws extending from each hand.
"X-23!"
The soldiers panicked.
"Target re-acquired! She's back!"
Gunfire followed her.
But she was already leaping. Dodging. Blocking bullets with her claws.
Sparks flew as steel met metal.
One claw slashed across a merc's throat, blood spraying in the air.
Then—another figure emerged. Slower, heavier. But iconic.
"WOLVERINE!"
Though older, battered, and with rusted claws, he still fought like a beast.
The young Mutant on the ground looked up with wide eyes.
"Wolverine… he's real… he came to save me…"
But what broke his heart wasn't hope—it was reality.
Even the legends had aged. Even the strongest among them were broken.
And it hit him.
His people—Mutants—were nearly extinct.
They were no longer feared warriors. They were prey.
---
The two Wolverines tore through the soldiers, feral and bloody, but every wound they gave—they received one in return.
Their bodies were covered in cuts.
But they did not stop.
From the forest, gunfire erupted from a fourth ally, covering them.
"Sniper in the woods!" a soldier screamed, but it was too late.
Wolverine drove his claws into the final mercenary, who let out one final scream before collapsing.
The girl—X-23—was panting, trembling.
She looked up at the older Logan.
"I'm sorry… I lost control again…"
Wolverine looked down at the blood-soaked battlefield, then sighed.
"It's not your fault… It's this world. We're just… too weak now."
He extended a hand to the wounded Mutant.
But the boy smiled weakly.
"No… I'm done."
He coughed blood, looked at the corpses of his tormentors, and pulled grenades from their belts.
"You go. Let me handle what's left."
His words carried no hate. Only sadness.
"Mutants have no future. But maybe… just maybe… you can survive a little longer."
"Live for a few more days. That's all I ask."
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