In the azure sky, Peter and Felicia soared across the horizon, swiftly descending upon the Terrorists' Base in the blink of an eye.
"Boss, is this it?" Felicia asked, her face tinged with doubt as she gazed at the vast expanse of yellow sand and the boundless Gobi Desert.
"9S wouldn't make a mistake—it should be right below us. Let's head down and check it out!" Peter responded, then accelerated toward the ground. In moments, they entered a long, secluded canyon.
Following the canyon to its end, they soon discovered a hidden military base buried beneath the endless dunes.
The entrance was a massive cave, outside of which lay a large cache of military-grade weapons. Judging from the markings on the equipment, they were clearly manufactured by Stark Industries.
By this point, Tony Stark must have realized that the weapons he once sold had fueled countless conflicts across the globe, plunging countless innocent people into chaos and suffering.
It was witnessing these tragedies that led Tony to shut down Stark Industries' weapons division upon his return to the Pretty Country (USA). That decision marked the start of his fallout with Obadiah Stane, a key shareholder of Stark Industries, and nearly cost him his life.
Of course, whether these events would play out the same in this parallel universe was anyone's guess.
Peter, however, wasn't particularly concerned with Tony's moral crisis. While he acknowledged the decision, he, like Stane, felt it was a bit of a waste.
After all, weapon manufacturing was one of the most lucrative avenues available. Shutting it down so suddenly was a huge loss in terms of wealth accumulation.
If given the opportunity, Peter had no qualms about stepping into that void himself. He didn't share Tony's guilt. In his eyes, weapons weren't inherently evil.
Weapons could start wars—but they could also protect nations. The real culprits were those who initiated wars, not those who manufactured the tools.
Punishment should be reserved for those instigators. Arms dealers? They were just businessmen.
It was like refusing to eat rice because someone once choked on it—it made no sense.
That said, Peter could still understand Tony's point of view.
If one couldn't stop war from happening, then choosing not to participate in it through manufacturing was a valid moral stance.
But that philosophy didn't work for Peter.
Tony's retreat from weapons tech simply created a new opening—a new road Peter was more than willing to walk down.
He planned to take the high-tech route in the future, and within that field, military technology was the easiest entry point. Making things go boom? He was already quite good at that.
As he mulled this over, Peter and Felicia landed quietly at the entrance to the base, unnoticed by the guards.
Suddenly, the silence shattered—fierce gunfire rang out from deep inside the cave. The guards stationed at the entrance immediately rushed inside.
In the span of seconds, the area outside the base was completely deserted.
Peter blinked in surprise.
"Do you have to be so unprofessional?" he muttered. "Anyone watching this would think you're just handing us the win."
He shrugged and walked into the base.
The sudden gunfire convinced him that Tony Stark's escape plan must have already begun.
"Looks like we're just in time," Peter said, then dashed inside. He fully expected to be met with heavy resistance.
But what greeted him was a complete surprise.
There was no hail of bullets. No ambush.
The reason was clear—every guard inside had already been slaughtered, and it wasn't done cleanly.
All of them had been decapitated, their bodies scattered across the corridor in gruesome arrangements.
The floor was soaked in crimson, the walls splattered with blood. The metallic stench of death clung to the air, seeping into Peter and Felicia's senses.
Felicia covered her nose, frowning. "Boss, something's off. These bodies... they're fresh."
Peter had already noticed.
The slaughtered corpses brought to mind a particularly brutal individual—one known for excessive violence.
But then he shook his head. That didn't make sense. There hadn't been any recent reports of meteorites crashing down to Earth—no sign of "that one" appearing.
As he pondered, a terrified scream echoed from the depths of the base, followed by a burst of gunfire—and then, silence.
Peter's expression darkened.
"Felicia, stay here. Don't go any further," he said, patting her shoulder.
His Spider-Sense was blaring—there was something inside, something incredibly dangerous, even to him.
Felicia, however, stood her ground. "Don't underestimate me, Boss. I can handle myself. Two fighters are better than one."
Peter hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Fine. But stay behind me. If anything weird happens, don't engage—retreat. I'll take care of it."
"Got it."
They moved carefully through the dim corridors, approaching the dungeon entrance.
Here, the carnage worsened. Corpses lay piled against the walls. Some were headless like those before, but others still had their heads intact.
It looked like the killer had lost interest in further mutilation—perhaps they were done feeding.
Near the dungeon entrance, a figure in a white lab coat lay motionless in a pool of blood.
His attire immediately set him apart from the terrorists. Peter recognized him instantly.
It was Dr. Ethan—the man who had saved Tony Stark's life.
The doctor had multiple gunshot wounds across his abdomen and chest, clear signs that he had tried to fight back.
Peter could guess what had happened: Dr. Ethan had taken up arms to buy Tony time to activate the Mark I Iron Man suit.
It matched the character of the Dr. Ethan he knew from the mainline Marvel Universe—brave, selfless, and noble.
Felicia knelt beside him and examined the wounds, her face grim.
"His injuries are too severe. He's not going to make it."
"Save... Tony…" Dr. Ethan whispered as he looked at them, clinging to his last shred of life.
But before he could finish, his breath faded—and he died, eyes wide open.
Peter was silent for a moment, his face solemn.
Though Dr. Ethan was just an ordinary man, his courage rivaled that of any superhero. He'd given everything for someone else's survival.
Even Peter had to admit—he couldn't have done the same.
"Rest in peace," Peter murmured, gently closing the doctor's eyes. "May there be no war in heaven."
With renewed determination, Peter turned and strode toward the dungeon.
The moment he crossed the threshold, a chilling voice echoed from within the shadows.
"Spider-Man, I've been waiting for you for a long time!"
For more chapters
patreon.com/Robertt45