Brooklyn Cemetery – Dusk
The cemetery was hushed under the violet hues of dusk. Miles Morales walked slowly, sneakers scuffing against the damp earth. His hoodie hung low over his face, and beneath it, the edges of a cheap, ill-fitting Spider-Man costume showed.
He stopped before the headstone that had become a symbol for the whole city:
Peter Parker
1991-2018
[Image]
The tombstone was surrounded by farewell letters and roses, left by countless adoring fans and admirers. Miles stared at the carved name until his vision blurred. His throat felt constricted, words spilling out in a whisper meant for no one but the dead.
"I'm sorry, man. I don't… I don't know what I'm doing. They all think Spider-Man is supposed to save them. But me? I can't even get my shoelaces right. I broke the key. I tripped off a roof. And now everybody's looking up, waiting for Spider-Man, and…"
His voice cracked.
"…I'm not you."
Miles's shoulders shook, frustration and grief boiling together. "I don't think I can do this. I'm not ready. I'll never be ready."
A hand landed suddenly on his shoulder.
Miles flinched, spinning around...
BZZZZT!
A surge of cyan energy shot from his palms. The stranger jerked violently as the charge tore through him and he was flung away.
Miles staggered back, horrified. "Oh my god!!! I didn't mean to... I just..."
It was a man. Older, rugged, in a trench coat. It was Peter Parker but not the same. His face bore stubble, his hair was brown and messy, he looked worn, as if life had chewed him up and spit him out.
And now he was twitching on the grass, unconscious.
A beam of light swept over the cemetery.
"HEY! Over there!"
Two police officers were pointing flashlights at him. To them, Miles looked like a suspicious kid in a dollar-store Spider-Man costume standing over an unconscious man in a trench coat.
"PDNY freeze!"
Miles panicked. His heart raced. "Oh no no no. This is bad...this is really bad."
He grabbed the unconscious Peter B. Parker, trying to haul him over his shoulder, but the man was far too heavy. Sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer.
"Move, kid!" one officer shouted.
Miles yanked one of the web shooters off the man's wrist, fumbling. He aimed desperately and fired.
THWIP!
The web latched onto a passing subway train.
"Oh crap."
The train lurched forward, and Miles, still clinging to Peter's body, was yanked off his feet. The police shouted, giving chase.
Brooklyn Streets – Night
" Dispatch, we have a kid in a spiderman costume dragging around what seemed to be a homeless person corpse." Radioed dispatch and at that moment they were dragged over the police cruiser in which the report was heard.
What followed was pure chaos.
Miles tumbled along behind the speeding train, trying to keep his balance while dragging the limp, unconscious Peter B. Parker.
Peter's face smacked against every obstacle in their path: lampposts, trash cans, taxi doors and even a hotdog cart. Each hit made Miles wince harder.
"Sorry! Sorry again! You're okay! …I think?"
The subway tore through intersections, pedestrians diving out of the way. Miles flailed as his sneakers skidded, sparks flying as his cheap costume tore open at the knees. Behind him, police sirens echoed, patrol cars trying to keep up.
Rooftop Across the Street
Not everyone watching was from around the corner.
From the shadows of a rooftop, Peter and Gwendolyn stood side by side, eyes following the spectacle of the kid being dragged across Brooklyn by a train with another Spider-Man in tow.
"Please tell me I'm not hallucinating that." Gwendolyn muttered.
"Nope." Peter said grimly, already tapping at his dimensional navigation gauntlet. The device hummed, projecting a series of shifting quantum signatures into the air.
The readings made Peter's eyes narrow.
"The kid... Miles Morales. He's got two quantum signatures. One from this universe… and one from another."
Gwendolyn blinked. "Two? That's not possible."
"It shouldn't be. Unless the spider that bit him is from another dimension." Peter's gaze shifted to the unconscious man being dragged like a ragdoll. "And him… another Peter Parker. Only one signature, but it's from outside this reality. He's not supposed to be here. Cellular decay rate suggests that he has been here for only a few hours."
Down below, Miles crashed into a mailbox, groaning. Peter B. Parker's face met the metal with a hollow CLANG!
Gwendolyn winced. "…Kid's gonna kill him before we get any answers."
Peter's jaw flexed. The gauntlet was still humming, warning of unstable dimensional overlap. Whatever was happening, this wasn't just coincidence.
The universe was pulling its spiders together.
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