"You're absolutely right." Tony Stark's voice carried a manic edge, exhaustion and desperation mixing into something that resembled hope. "We've come this far. We've created the impossible. We're not stopping now."
He slammed his fist on the workbench, the sound echoing through the cave. His hands moved with practiced efficiency, disassembling the forearm sections of his battered armor. The purple vial of cure fit perfectly into the hidden compartment, nestled against the arc reactor's power conduits.
"Everyone takes one vial." Tony's commander voice emerged, the tone he used when lives depended on split-second decisions. "When the opportunity presents itself, inject it directly into the target's body. The serum needs to enter his bloodstream."
"To minimize the risk of getting torn apart," he continued, meeting each team member's eyes, "we stick to the original plan. Priority one: remove the Omnitrix from Zombie Ben's wrist."
Peter nodded, accepting one of the precious vials. The liquid inside seemed to glow with its own internal light, purple and luminescent like captured lightning.
The total supply was pitifully small. Three test tubes. That was it. All the hope they had left, concentrated into three fragile glass containers.
"Tony takes one, Peter takes one, Pietro takes the third." Harry's voice came through their communication system. "You three are the fastest members of the team."
"Peter, you're using XLR8 form." Tony's tactical mind was already running through scenarios, calculating angles and timing. "Those claws are sharp. Use them to sever his arm at the wrist, Omnitrix and all. Pietro, the instant the watch comes off, you inject the serum."
A ghost of memory flickered through Tony's mind. Ben Parker, his Ben, casually executing Dennis Carradine in front of him years ago. That same cold efficiency would be needed now.
"I'm keeping the third vial as backup," Tony added, though they all knew the truth.
If the plan failed, there wouldn't be a second attempt. Zombie Ben wouldn't give them another chance.
"Everyone understands their role?" Tony's gaze swept the assembled team.
Nods all around. Grim determination on every face.
"Harry, what are the target's current coordinates?"
"Already uploaded to everyone's badges." Harry's reply was immediate. "But, uh, there's a problem. He's really far from our position. Like, really far."
Tony's frown deepened as he checked the map. "That's at least ten kilometers. Even with—"
"Don't worry about distance." Wanda's voice cut through his concern, her accent thickening slightly. "We have teleportation magic."
She and Gwen clasped hands, their fingers interlacing. Mana flowed between them, two separate sources of cosmic power merging into something greater. For a moment, they seemed less like two individuals and more like a single being with two bodies.
Pure white light erupted around the team, so bright that Tony had to close his eyes.
When he opened them again, they were somewhere else entirely.
The Wasteland
Outside the Ruins of Chicago
The teleportation deposited them in a barren landscape that might have once been suburban sprawl. Now it was just cracked earth, skeletal remains of buildings, and the omnipresent stench of decay that permeated the entire zombie universe.
Harry Osborn nearly jumped out of his skin when the team materialized directly behind his hiding spot. His startled yelp was cut off as Pietro's hand clamped over his mouth with supernatural speed.
"Keep your voice down!" Pietro hissed. "What if he hears you?"
Harry shoved the speedster away, glaring. "We're still several kilometers out. If Zombie Ben's hearing is good enough to detect us from this distance, then our whole plan is already screwed anyway."
"Fair point," Pietro conceded, brushing dust off his sleeves.
"Besides," Harry continued, his voice dropping to match Pietro's whisper, "if Zombie Ben was that paranoid even in his human form, the plan to steal his watch would never work in the first place. He'd sense the ambush."
"I don't know." Peter's voice carried doubt as he studied the distant figure through advanced optical enhancers. "Even before he was infected, Ben wasn't exactly easy to sneak up on."
"You forgot about his spider-sense?" Harry pointed out.
The mention of that particular ability made everyone pause. Spider-sense in the hands of someone like Ben Parker was already terrifying. In the hands of a zombie version with nothing to lose?
"Actually..." Harry's expression turned thoughtful. "Now that I think about it, I've never actually seen Zombie Ben use his spider-sense in combat. Not once. Does he even know how to activate it properly?"
"That's ridiculous." Peter's XLR8-head bobbed, "Of course he knows how. He's Ben."
"Maybe the zombie virus damaged that ability?" Harry suggested hopefully.
"Don't count on it," Pietro interjected, his tone flat. "I'd bet my last meal his spider-sense has a range of at least fifty kilometers. Probably more."
Harry blinked. "Then why haven't we ever seen him use it?"
"Use it for what?" Pietro looked at Harry like he'd asked why Superman didn't use X-ray vision to cheat at poker. "What possible danger exists that could threaten him? You think he activates spider-sense to play video games? To beat Hollow Knight without taking damage and get a world record speedrun time?"
"That would be cheating," Harry said automatically.
"Speaking of which!" Peter's excitement was palpable despite the dire circumstances. "I heard... this year... Silksong... finally got incredibly lucky with development..."
"I won't believe that game exists until it's installed on my hard drive," Pietro cut him off. "We've been hearing 'next year' for a decade."
"Enough." Tony's sharp command silenced the nervous banter. "We don't know what that zombie is doing wandering alone in the wasteland, but this is our best opportunity. No cover, no backup, no civilians to use as shields. Peter!"
"Sir!" Peter immediately dropped into a runner's stanc.
"Activate your mobility enhancements. Deploy the equipment."
Peter's form blurred. The sleek, velociraptor-like alien was built for speed, its aerodynamic body designed to cut through air resistance like a knife.
A black helmet materialized over XLR8's head, completing the transformation. When it came to pure velocity, XLR8 was the undisputed champion.
"Go!"
There was no sound. No sonic boom. No warning.
One instant, Peter was beside them. The next, he was simply gone, a blue streak that the human eye couldn't track.
Pietro followed a heartbeat later, but his path diverged. While Peter attacked in a straight line, the speedster curved around, circling wide to approach Zombie Ben from behind.
The vial of purple cure remained perfectly protected in Pietro's hand, surrounded by a localized force field that kept the fragile glass intact despite the extreme acceleration. From his perspective, the rest of the world had frozen. Harry mid-breath, a spec of dust suspended in air, Tony's worried expression locked in place like a photograph.
"Good form, Parker!" Pietro's internal monologue was almost gleeful despite the stakes. "You're almost keeping up with me!"
XLR8's normal cruising speed was merely seventy or eighty kilometers per hour. But at full sprint? Peter could push past several times the speed of sound, becoming a blue lightning bolt that carved through the air itself.
The gap between them was minimal. Pietro's advantage came from superior reaction time and maneuverability. XLR8's weakness was the inability to turn without zigzagging or breaking to redirect momentum.
Several kilometers vanished in seconds.
Zombie Ben's figure resolved in Peter's vision, that pale, infected form standing motionless in the wasteland. His bald head reflected the dim sunlight. His gray-tinged skin showed the telltale signs of necrosis. But his posture was alert, ready, as though he'd been waiting for this exact moment.
"Sever the arm!" Peter's resolve crystallized into action.
His claws extended, razor-sharp and deadly. If this had been any other Peter Parker from any other universe, he might have hesitated. Might have struggled with the moral weight of maiming a child.
But this was Peter Parker from Ben Parker's universe. He'd grown up with Ben. Had witnessed his cousin's pragmatic brutality firsthand. Had learned that sometimes, mercy meant doing terrible things for the right reasons.
The blue lightning bolt that was XLR8 flashed past Zombie Ben's position.
A pale arm, gray watch still attached, tumbled through the air.
Zombie Ben stood there, apparently dazed, as silver metal approached at impossible speed.
"NOW!" Peter's shout echoed across the frozen battlefield.
Pietro, moving through his private domain where time barely existed, barely registered the blue blur of Peter's attack. His own trajectory was already calculated, the throw already in motion.
The vial spun end-over-end, a perfect arc that would intersect with Zombie Ben's center mass in 0.3 seconds.
CLINK.
The sound was wrong. Sharp. Metallic.
The syringe struck Zombie Ben's chest and sparked like metal on steel, the needle crumpling without penetrating skin.
"What—" Pietro's time-dilated perception registered what had happened instantly.
The hardening had already been in place. The instant Peter severed the arm, maybe even before, Zombie Ben had activated his infected body's defensive protocols. His skin had transformed into something approaching steel, dense enough to deflect the injection.
"He knew!" The realization hit like a punch. "He knew exactly what we'd do!"
Harry's jinx had come true. The paranoia about Ben's tactical genius, his ability to predict their moves, to stay three steps ahead—all of it validated in a single moment.
But then Peter was coming around for a second pass, another vial clutched in his clawed hand.
"Peter, wait!" Pietro tried to warn him. "It can't penetrate—"
The second injection succeeded where the first had failed.
Peter's claws drove the needle directly through Zombie Ben's hardened epidermis, the syringe sinking deep into infected tissue. Purple liquid began to flow, the cure serum invading corrupted bloodstream.
The smug expression on Zombie Ben's face vanished. Shock replaced it, his one visible eye widening as he turned to stare at Peter.
"You did it!" Pietro materialized beside them as normal time resumed. "How? How did you pierce the hardening?"
"Vibranium nanomolecules." Peter's voice carried exhausted triumph. "I coated the original needle with an adaptive layer. Makes it effectively indestructible."
He didn't release the syringe until the vial was completely empty, until every last drop of purple cure had entered Zombie Ben's system.
Only then did Peter step back, his body trembling with spent adrenaline.
"Now..." His voice was barely a whisper. "At least we've solved one problem. Even if we die here, even if the bomb kills us all..."
He looked at Zombie Ben's face, already beginning to change as the cure took effect. Color returning to pale skin. The gray tinge of death fading, replaced by healthy pink flesh. Those dead eyes regaining a spark of consciousness, of humanity.
"He won't die as a monster."