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Step into the dark, gritty world of Spider-Man (Earth-42) — where the city is fractured, loyalties are tested, and every fight hits deeper than the last.
🔓 Early Access on Patreon – Available Chapters:
Chapter 25:Sinister 6
Chapter 26:Spider-Man – New Suit
Chapter 27:Brothers from a Different Mother
Chapter 28:Kraven Hunt
Chapter 29:Spider-Man vs Kraven
Chapter 30:Spider-Man vs Kraven (Part 2)
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....
In the heart of their hidden fortress beneath the ruins of an old Oscorp lab, now swallowed by the Earth five shadows gathered around a circular table dimly lit by red LED strips pulsing like a heartbeat.
Kraven the Hunter, sharpening his blades with calm menace.
Mysterio, mask shimmering faintly, mist leaking from his collar.
Electro, sitting half-floating, crackling sparks arcing from his fingertips.
Green Goblin, perched unnervingly on the back of a chair, grinning, fingernails tapping erratically.
Doctor Octopus, calm, calculating, his mechanical arms folded behind his back like a looming spider.
The chair of the sixth remained empty. Vulture—Adrian Toomes—was gone.
Slain by Harry Osborn in a rare moment of rebellion.
And Scorpia, their volatile enforcer, had died
Five remained.
But not alone.
Mysterio broke the silence. His voice echoed metallically through his helmet.
"Where is the young leader?"
A door opened.
Aaron Davis, older now, stepped forward wearing a modified coat of the old Prowler armor. The mask was gone, left behind with his past.
"He's not here," Aaron said, arms folded.
"So I'll be the one to represent him."
Doc Ock raised a brow, mechanical arms twitching in subtle annoyance.
"Is that wise?"
Aaron's eyes were steady.
"He trusts me. And he's focused on something bigger. The portal."
A beat passed.
Even Electro's sparks quieted.
Goblin chuckled, a scratchy, unhinged sound.
"He still believes in that multiversal nonsense?" His grin spread wider.
"That the spiders we fought... weren't even from this world?"
Aaron didn't flinch.
His voice was cold. Sure.
"Because they weren't."
Dr. Octopus leaned forward, the lenses of his goggles catching the light.
"I told that kid—" his tone was equal parts warning and admiration, "—that something like that is beyond any of us. Even me. Unless you're more than a genius, you can't build a portal like that. Not yet. Not alone. Not with what we have."
He paused, tapping the table.
"But… in the future? With time?"
A smirk ghosted over his face.
"It's… not impossible."
Kraven growled, breaking his silence.
"The boy dreams of other worlds while this one slips from his grip. He leads, yet does not show. Is that strength—or cowardice?"
Aaron didn't blink. His voice steady.
"Don't worry. My nephew will never be a coward."
Kraven chuckled, the sound low and amused as he leaned against a pillar, his furred coat brushing the stone.
"How confident," he said, baring a toothy grin.
"But I wonder… will your lion still roar when the hunt begins? Or will he flee, just like the others we broke?"
A jagged laugh echoed from above.
"Like you… who ran away from the hunt, kekeke."
Green Goblin crouched on a steel beam, his claws digging into the metal, eyes glinting with manic glee.
Kraven's eyes darkened. "Come again?"
The Goblin shrugged, still grinning.
"I'm just teasing you, Kraven. Don't get so prickly. You're still my favorite wild dog."
Kraven's jaw clenched, his hand twitching toward the blade on his hip—
but he didn't move further. Just stared.
Aaron stepped between them with a sigh.
"This is why he doesn't show up to meetings. Because you act like kids with nukes."
Mysterio raised a hand, palm glowing faintly with light and illusion.
"Enough. We're not here to tear each other's throats—yet. We need to focus. The Alpha has plans. And he's counting on us not to fall apart."
Doctor Octopus nodded slightly.
"Agreed. If that portal becomes real, it won't matter who leads… unless we're ready to shape the new world it opens to."
Silence followed.
Unstable.
Uneasy.
But an alliance still—
for now.
Meanwhile…
Far beneath the surface of Brooklyn, in a hidden underground facility once repurposed from an abandoned S.H.I.E.L.D. black site, a new empire was being built.
The dim light buzzed above—cold, sterile, casting pale glows across high-tech consoles and humming generators. Engineers moved with urgency, sweat clinging to their brows as they fine-tuned coils, calibrated energy flux capacitors, and typed endless lines of code into flickering screens. A glowing, circular frame unfinished, trembling with unstable light—stood tall at the center like a monument to obsession.
And standing above them all on the catwalk, cloaked in shadow, was Miles Morales.
Not the boy the world once knew.
Not the friendly Spider-Man swinging across rooftops.
He was the Alpha now.
The one who ruled from the dark.
The one who decided who would rise… and who would fall.
His arms were folded, his purple-and-black Prowler coat trailing behind him, the faint glow of the neon circuitry etched in his suit pulsing with quiet menace. The scientists below didn't dare speak to him. They worked because he willed it. They moved because he demanded it.
(Wait for me, Dad...) Miles's eyes, half-lidded behind his mask, flicked toward the sparking core of the interdimensional gate.
(...Even if I have to destroy this world just to be complete again.)
A quiet grief churned behind those eyes. The kind of grief that hardens, sharpens—transforms into resolve.
His mind drifted—
Back to the day his father, Jefferson Davis, died.
An NYPD officer. A father. A protector.
Gunned down during a riot caused by one of Kingpin's fallout experiments gone wrong.
He'd thrown himself in front of a child.
Took the shot.
And smiled as he fell.
That smile never left Miles. It haunted him.
He clenched the railing tighter.
Then—
Another memory. Sharper. Vivid. Unforgettable.
A rooftop bathed in neon blue and red.
A crack in reality humming between two dimensions.
He stood there… facing himself.
But not himself. Not really.
The other one was dressed in black.
The original suit.
The classic.
Spider-Man.
He had Miles's voice.
Miles's face.
But he believed in something else.
"You don't have to do this," that version had pleaded.
"We need to save dad"
Miles remembered replying, voice low and shaken:
"Your dad."
The clash that followed was brutal. Fists against fists. Webs slinging, hearts screaming.
But that moment proved something:
The multiverse was real.
He had fought a version of himself.
And that version still believed he was a hero.
(Dad...)
Miles turned his gaze downward again. The machine sparked.
(Somewhere... out there... in one of those infinite Earths... maybe you're still alive. Maybe I can bring you back.)
The hum of the gate surged louder.
Miles closed his eyes for just a second, breathing deep.
He would open the portal.
He would cross through every dimension if he had to.
He wasn't the boy who lost his father anymore.
He was the man building a new future.
Even if it meant destroying this one.
To be continue