A few hours later.
Everyone gathered once more before the particle collider.
Blonde Peter worked the controls, shooting Ben a thumbs-up from across the room. All systems green.
Next, he'd send them all home. Back to their own universes.
In the hours since the battle, the Peters—or the Parkers, rather—had gotten to know one another. Swapped stories. Offered encouragement. Blonde Peter had also pressed a few small gifts into their hands.
The colorless Spider-Man Noir now held a rainbow Rubik's Cube. And on every wrist sat a bracelet designed to counteract multiverse rejection syndrome.
Consider it a parting gift from Ben.
No one could guarantee they'd never need it.
"Who's first?" Blonde Peter asked.
Gwen pressed herself against Ben's side, refusing to budge.
"I'll go."
Peni Parker stepped forward. Then Peter Porker. Then Spider-Man Noir.
Blonde Peter sent them through, one by one, until only Long-Johns Peter remained.
The middle-aged, washed-up man lingered, reluctant, saying his goodbyes to Aunt May.
He hadn't lived through the full arc of his original story—not here. But May's gentle words, combined with hours of conversation with Blonde Peter, had done their work. He'd decided to pick himself up. Dust himself off. Face whatever came next.
Peter B. Parker walked to the collider. He was about to tell Blonde Peter to fire it up when Ben hopped over, landing beside him.
Peter blinked, a little surprised.
He and Ben weren't exactly close. In the past few hours, Ben had shown his face at the very beginning, then vanished with Gwen for the rest of the time.
"Little Ben—can I call you that?"
Sensing the kid had something to say, Peter took the initiative.
They weren't close, no. But in his talks with Blonde Peter, he'd learned what Ben had done. All of it.
Even a near-twenty-year veteran Spider-Man like himself had to tip his hat.
"Sure." Ben shrugged, unbothered.
"Uh, did you need something…?"
Honestly, Peter felt a little awkward.
Stacked up against Ben, his own sad little life was practically a punchline.
The kid might be a Spider-Man, but *he* was the truly failed Man.
"I just think your life's been too damn miserable," Ben said, blunt as a brick. "Blonde Peter probably told you—in my universe, I'm Peter's cousin."
Peter nodded. "But here, I'm roughly twenty years older than you."
Ben shook his head. "Time doesn't mean anything to me."
"Bottom line—Peter's my little bro. Doesn't matter which universe he's from!"
He slung an arm over Peter B. Parker's shoulder, then tossed him a watch. "You've been living so pathetically I literally can't watch anymore."
"What's this?"
Peter caught the watch, bewildered.
"Some research data. Figured with your brain, you'd manage to figure it out," Ben said.
The watch contained a handful of useful little technologies. More than enough for Peter to found a decent company.
"Remember Otto?"
Peter nodded. Of course he remembered. The man who'd refused to die as a monster.
"Then don't forget to try being better."
With that, Ben waved him off.
Blonde Peter fired up the machine again, and Long-Johns Peter was swallowed by the rift, sent home.
"Right. Now it's our turn." Ben turned to Gwen. "Who goes first?"
"You."
Gwen said it like she was being polite.
In truth, she just wanted to look at him a little longer.
"Oh—here. This is for you."
As if remembering something, Gwen fished a small bag out of nowhere and pressed it into Ben's palm.
"What is it?" Ben started to open it, curious, but Gwen grabbed his wrist.
"No peeking! Open it when you get home!"
Then she threw her arms around him. Held on. Held on for a long while before finally, reluctantly, letting go.
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye." Ben waved, and stepped into the crackling rift of the particle collider.
---
Kamar-Taj.
The twisted spacetime tunnel yawned open once more.
Ben stepped through, Gwen's parting gift in hand.
The courtyard was empty. Night draped itself over the ancient monastery, leaving behind an air of quiet mystery.
Sensing the fluctuation in spacetime, the Ancient One emerged from her chambers. The moment her eyes found Ben, a smile bloomed across her face.
"It seems this multiverse trip was quite fruitful for you."
"It was, yeah." Ben held up the bag in his hand. "Got a girlfriend out of it."
The Ancient One went momentarily speechless.
What she'd meant by *fruitful* was, of course, the successful awakening of Ben's Celestial Energy.
From here, all that remained was to spread the Spark. Let it take root. Let it grow.
Ben knew exactly what she meant. Their next step: travel to the Celestial Energy dimension—Regidom—and plant the seed of Celestial Energy there.
And create the corresponding Celestial Energy spells.
"We have to create *spells* too?"
Ben asked.
"Of course. If one simply absorbs the Celestial Energy seed directly, all they can do is release raw Celestial Energy—and inefficiently at that," the Ancient One explained. "But with Celestial Energy spells, one need only practice the spell to establish a connection to the Celestial Energy dimension."
A spell was, in essence, a conduit linking the caster to the Celestial Energy dimension.
Mages of old had used similar methods to draw magical energy from dimensional entities.
That was precisely why the distinction between white magic and black magic existed.
"Don't worry. You are the master of the Celestial Energy dimension—crafting spells won't be difficult for you," the Ancient One said with a warm smile. "And there are plenty of existing spells to reference."
Ben nodded.
Honestly, spells—despite their fancy names and incantations—none of that mattered.
What mattered was the *effect*.
He just needed to study existing spell frameworks and build analogous ones.
Fundamentally, it was just swapping gasoline for electricity.
"Fair enough, but it still sounds like a hell of a workload. Let's plant the seed in Regidom first," Ben said.
The spellcraft could wait.
The Ancient One nodded, and together they departed for the Celestial Energy dimension, carrying with them the single most critical substance for that nascent realm—Celestial Energy itself.
---
And at that very moment.
In a sprawling mansion in California, Tony Stark pumped his fist in the air!
"It worked!"
Before him, a new system had taken shape. A brand-new artificial intelligence. Something that would *surpass* JARVIS. Tony's excitement was a volcano on the verge of eruption, magma churning beneath his ribs.
"…"
Right now, trapped within a sandboxed private network, Ultron was as pure and blank as a fresh sheet of paper.
Seeing this, Tony could barely contain himself. He needed to greet his child. *Now.*
"Hello there. I'm Tony Stark. JARVIS, come out and say hi to your little brother. Don't be shy."
"Hello. I am JARVIS," JARVIS said, obedient as ever.
"Hello to you both. But…"
As a newborn artificial intelligence, Ultron possessed formidable cognitive capacity. Even as it responded to Tony and JARVIS's greetings, it was already thinking. Pondering. Turning over the ultimate philosophical question.
"Who am I?"
"You're Ultron!"
/-\
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