As the Kryptonian warriors spread across the city, a new wave of chaos erupted.
With Zod and his crew gone, the scattered magical particles quickly reformed, and Charlie's figure emerged.
A simple illusion spell.
Since tapping into the Web of Life and Destiny with the Mind Stone, Charlie no longer relied on the Resurrection Match for spider magic.
By studying Kamar-Taj's various spells, he could now mimic simple magic with his vast magical energy.
For powerful sorcerers, such basic spells weren't very practical.
But against these Kryptonian warriors, they seemed to work just fine.
Zod and the others, assuming Charlie left a duplicate, didn't notice the shrunken bug nearby and instinctively thought he'd already fled.
Had they searched carefully, they might've noticed the magical particles hadn't fully dissipated.
Charlie was pleased with this test. After all, saving retries was key.
He was fine, but elderly Steve and Carter were in trouble.
Zod's target was the Codex. Having absorbed its energy, they'd surely be captured.
Even Karn's body was taken, as he'd absorbed enough Genesis Chamber energy to carry part of the Codex's power.
Now it was up to Wade to deliver intel.
Lost in thought, Charlie glanced at Third-Gen Peter, buried under the ruins.
Approaching, he saw Peter struggling to lift a hundred-ton Ferris wheel and said disappointedly, "This is your choice. I won't interfere."
With that, Charlie turned coldly and left.
"No!!"
Third-Gen Peter watched Charlie leave, his mindset crumbling.
Pinned under the Ferris wheel, he struggled helplessly, shouting toward Charlie's vanishing figure, "No~ Help me, help me…"
His face was smeared with blood, utterly pathetic.
The young Spider-Man was crying, crushed by the weight, gasping for breath.
He'd struggled, raged, resisted.
But he couldn't break free.
He was exhausted, ready to give up.
This was just a game, not his world.
He didn't need a Resurrection Match spot and could quit anytime.
But a voice in his heart told him.
He was Peter Parker, Spider-Man. Spider-Man didn't give up easily.
If he quit, he'd regret it forever.
But…
Wasn't this Spider-Man's fate?
Struggle, resist, and still face the same outcome.
All Spider-Men were like this, including him.
He was just a naive student, unable to bear such pressure.
There was only one Charlie Parker, one invincible Spider-Man.
No one but Charlie could defy Spider-Man's fate.
He had no power to change destiny.
Not before, not now.
And the future—he'd destroyed his own future.
Why, after all this, was he still so naive?
Third-Gen Peter kept asking himself.
Was he truly unfit to be Spider-Man?
Yes, he had his answer.
As Spider-Man, he'd caused too many disasters he couldn't fix alone.
Even when he did, he'd repeat the same mistakes.
Vulture, Mysterio, the multiversal rifts…
All disasters because of him.
He'd dragged too many people down, unworthy of being Spider-Man.
But he really wanted to be a good Spider-Man, to help more people.
He always messed things up.
And never learned his lesson.
This was the fate he deserved.
His struggles slowed.
His eyelids grew heavy.
He was so tired, ready to sleep.
His disappearance would let others live happily.
No one would worry about Peter Parker causing trouble.
Those who hated Peter Parker, hated Spider-Man, would be thrilled, right?
Gradually, Third-Gen Peter sank into a dark world.
A world without light.
Just him.
But soon, the voice in his heart materialized before him.
"Peter, you're my last family."
Aunt May smiled at Peter, her youthful beauty now etched with wrinkles from raising him.
She was no longer young.
"May…"
Third-Gen Peter wept, reaching to hug her, but her figure vanished, replaced by Happy.
"Kid, you're holding May back. She needs someone to care for her."
Happy's stern look filled Peter with guilt.
May had sacrificed so much for him.
Then Happy smiled.
"I'll take care of May, but she loves you most. Without you, she won't be happy.
And if she's not happy, I'm not either."
Happy's smile was genuine.
Next came Ned and MJ.
"Peter, where are you? We miss you," Ned said excitedly.
MJ nodded. "Yeah, come back soon!"
Third-Gen Peter stared at them, speechless.
MJ stepped forward, gently fixing his messy hair.
"Trust yourself, and trust me. We won't be torn apart by some demon's curse."
"MJ…"
He tried to explain, but Ned and MJ's figures scattered.
Finally, Infinite Tony appeared, scolding him as usual. "Listen, even without being Spider-Man, you're the one we need most."
Third-Gen Peter, guilt-ridden, said, "But I've messed up too much."
"What young person doesn't mess up?"
Infinite Tony grinned proudly. "When I was young, I caused way more trouble than you."
Peter opened his mouth. "Spider-Man's fate is loneliness. I don't want—"
"Don't want what?"
Tony cut him off, serious. "The more you run from fate, the cockier it gets."
His figure faded.
"I made you a new suit. It's waiting for you." With that, Tony vanished.
"Mr. Stark!"
Third-Gen Peter watched him disappear, alone again in the dark world.
After an unknown time, he opened his eyes.
The weight still crushed him, making it hard to breathe.
His tears had dried into tracks, but he found new strength to struggle.
He knew he had to make a real choice.
Be a failed Spider-Man or go back to fix his mistakes.
His gaze hardened.
May needed him. Mr. Stark needed him. Ned and MJ needed him.
He wasn't a useless Spider-Man.
He was trying to be better.
He'd keep striving.
"Ah!!"
With a roar, he pushed up, the pain in his spine drawing a gut-wrenching scream.
His strength drained rapidly.
But he didn't care.
One thought filled his mind.
Survive, win this match, return to his world.
He wanted to see his family, friends, lover.
He missed May, Mr. Stark, everyone.
"Ah!!!"
He shouted, face flushed, veins bulging on his neck.
He used every ounce of strength.
"Peter, you can do it, you can do it…"
He kept encouraging himself.
His strength seemed endless, exhaustion gone, replaced by growing power.
The ruins trembled slightly.
So did his body.
The heavy Ferris wheel lifted slowly, the sealed power in Peter awakening.
The power of fate.
Nearby, Charlie sensed the flickering spider totem in his chest, understanding something.
Every Spider-Man had the strength to defy fate.
Except, apparently, him.
Charlie scratched his head.
"When will I get to unleash my own little universe?"
As he mused, a metallic creak sounded. Third-Gen Peter stood in the ruins, lifting a corner of the Ferris wheel, roaring to the sky.
"May, Mr. Stark, I did it, I did it!!"
His face lit up with a smile, shedding all burdens.
Charlie nodded, smiling. "Still weak, but it's a good start."
As he spoke, a shockwave cut through the sky. A passing Kryptonian warrior spotted them and sent a message to Zod.
"I see him—it's Spider-Man!"
Instantly, shockwaves rolled in, and the invincible Spider-Man was surrounded again.
Charlie: "…"
Another restart, and Third-Gen Peter would have to unleash his little universe again.
Another blow to endure, another reason to envy him.
Forget it—time to advance the plan.
His eyes sharpened. He fired a crimson beam across the sky, sending Kryptonian soldiers crashing down.
Boom!!
With each crash, the fallen soldiers plowed through the ruins toward Charlie, reigniting the battle.
Soon, a small Kryptonian craft zoomed overhead.
"That's Charlie Parker, that jerk!"
Inside, Wade stood on a chair, cursing at Charlie.
"He turned me from the coolest Deadpool into the darkest Batman! I'm gonna take him out!"
Under Zod and Faora's stunned gazes, Wade opened the hatch and leaped out.
Whoosh~
Wind howled as Wade free-fell.
A confused Clark scratched his head, looking at Faora. "Was Batman called Deadpool before?"
Faora shook her head, unsure.
Zod mused, "From a servant of death to a bat living in darkness, he must've endured pain we can't imagine."
Faora nodded. "Yes, on Earth, bats are ugly creatures. He fits the Batman image."
Meanwhile, in a Gotham castle, a handsome man repairing his armor sneezed.
"Achoo!"
He paused, glancing at a TV reporting the New York incident, his eyes full of disdain.
"Spider-Man, alien warriors… you really think you're gods?"
Muttering, he approached his computer, where Spider-Man and the alien warriors' basic stats appeared.
He'd estimated these from their destructive impact.
Staring at the exaggerated numbers, Bruce Wayne's expression grew grave.
He had to admit, based on these stats alone, they could be called gods.
And this wasn't their limit.
Driving them off Earth with his current tech was impossible.
But impossible didn't mean undoable.
His gaze shifted to satellite footage of the Antarctic glacier.
The alien ship there was his only shot.
…
Meanwhile, as Wade crashed into a pile of mush, Zod and Faora, full of anticipation, froze in shock.
Clark, prepared, turned to Zod. "Told you he's a comic relief character."
Zod: "…"
But soon, Wade's indomitable spirit "revived" him.
He stood, rubbing his flattened head, puffing it back to roundness.
Then, drawing his baby knives, he charged at Charlie, surrounded by Kryptonian warriors.
"Step aside, let me take him out!"
Seeing Wade act, the warriors retreated without hesitation.
General Zod had ordered them to see how Wade would counter Spider-Man.
They saw.
Buzz~
Zzzzt~
Charlie fired web beams, scorching light sweeping the battlefield. Wade dodged like a dragon, stylishly evading while his body was torn apart by the heat vision.
Zod: "…"
Faora: "…"
Clark: "…"
Kryptonian warriors: "…"
The real Batman, watching: "…"
But the next moment, as Wade's body healed visibly, everyone was stunned.
"Oh sh*t, this guy's nuts," Clark gaped.
Faora and Zod exchanged looks, realizing for the first time someone might be more troublesome than Spider-Man.
Bruce Wayne immediately revised his strategy.
As Wade, healed, closed in with dual knives, the Necrosword slashed down.
Hum!!
Zzzzt~
Clang clang clang
Knives and sword clashed, the battlefield erupting with blasts as black mist swallowed their fight.
"Oh my gosh, you accidentally stabbed my kidney!"
In the darkness, Wade clutched his side, wailing.
Charlie wiped the Necrosword, scoffing, "Who told you to rush in so fast?"
"Because I'm cool, so I'm fast."
"Then handle it yourself."
"I need time."
"Please, I saw your healing speed earlier. Don't try to scam me."
"I was too excited then, so it was fast. Now it's different—my performance vibe's at rock bottom. I need time."
Wade sniffed his bloodied hand, his white eyes widening.
"Oh my gosh, I smell crap!!" he shrieked.
Charlie stepped back in disgust. "It wasn't on purpose."
He rubbed the Necrosword in the dirt, but it didn't help.
So gross!!
Calculating the time, he said, "Alright, time to surrender."
Wade sprang up. "Perfect! Time to defeat Spider-Man!"
He snatched the Necrosword.
Charlie raised his hands obediently.
"Is the food in Zod's prison any good?" he whispered.
Wade pointed the sword at him, stepping out of the darkness. "It's all half-cooked, but tastes decent."
"You tried it?"
"I've been in Krypton's prison."
"Oh, right. You were chased on Krypton because you slept with—"
"Shh, keep it down. How do you know about that?"
"I saw it with my own eyes."
"Oh my gosh, don't spread it! A front-line hero needs a grand, shining image."
"Don't worry, your hype's dead. The hot hero now is Venom."
"Sh*t, that gross guy got a sequel?"
Wade thought. "I wanna see it."
Charlie blinked. "What did I just say?"
He suspected he'd unknowingly broken a wall.
The invincible Spider-Man was getting tainted by Deadpool.