Hey everyone, I'm Gwen Stacy.
I've played Spider-Woman, and I've even played Deadpool once—they called me Ghost-Spider and Pink Ghost back then.
To be honest, I'm pretty confused, because I'm not talkative at all, and I definitely don't feel like a ghost.
Actually, I don't even like Miles, and I don't like Quentin either, but… you know how it is. The "correct" thing.
As the saying goes, when you wander the jianghu, you're bound to get cut.
I was only supposed to make a guest appearance in Miles' parallel-universe animated movie. I was about to hop into the collider to go home when something went wrong…
What the hell is this place? The air itself smells… disturbingly wholesome!
They said, "Welcome to Gotham!"
Gwen Stacy is fifteen years old this year.
She stands 165 cm tall and weighs 57 kg. She's been athletically gifted since childhood, with perfect curves already developing. Her skin is snow-white without a single freckle, and her pure blonde hair has soft pink highlights. She is the undisputed campus queen of Midtown High and a strong contender for the new generation "doujin queen" in American anime circles.
She had just finished her guest role in Miles' solo animated movie.
Yes, that black kid from Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse.
Gwen hadn't really wanted to come. Not only was there no pay, she even had to cut and almost shave her hair. But the boss said that if Miles blew up, she'd get her own solo movie next.
She took that with a grain of salt.
She knew damn well there were way too many Marvel heroines, and even if she waited ten years she probably still wouldn't get her turn.
Because it wouldn't be "correct."
Carol was already a blonde white woman. Adding another blonde white girl would be way too "incorrect." Captain Marvel, female Thor, She-Hulk, and a whole queue of older aunties were still lined up ahead of her.
But Peter Parker once said: you only live once—how can you not have dreams?
Just getting screen time is already lucky. What more do you want, a bike?
Thankfully the director didn't schedule any kissing scenes.
Because she's a blonde white girl, she had to be paired with the "correct" love interest—whether it was Miles from the parallel universe or Quentin from the West Coast…
Don't ask why. The boss said the data showed that's what readers liked.
It was fucking ridiculous.
But for the same "correct" reasons, minors weren't allowed to kiss in animated movies. Thank you, Ratings Board!
I'm not saying I dislike Miles. He's a loyal, stand-up guy. But his lips are literally 1.5 centimeters thick!
Gwen stared into the mirror, forcing her smile to look flawless, pretending nothing was wrong.
Complaints stayed in her heart. The smile was for the audience. Every single fan mattered—they translated directly into comic sales and merch revenue.
The shoot went quickly. There were too many supporting characters, so everyone's screen time got split.
Mutual understanding, right? We're all struggling in the same boat. Who doesn't want a little more spotlight?
She had thought that once she jumped into the collider she could finally go home, take a shower, and sleep. Gwen had already planned it: first thing back, she'd dye her hair again.
If there was still time, maybe she could even swing by the My Little Pony set and snag a cameo role.
......
She never expected the spacetime tunnel to glitch.
Gwen swore she had closed her eyes and done absolutely nothing. Yet the moment she opened them, she wasn't back in her bed—she was standing in the middle of a strange city under the night sky.
"I smell the scent of history!"
Time travel wasn't scary. In the Marvel universe, hopping between parallel worlds was basically a Tuesday. If you hadn't visited another universe, you were embarrassed to call yourself a superhero.
What was terrifying was landing in some retro era decades in the past.
No Wi-Fi!!!
Looking at the cars parked along the street—brand new but clearly decades-old models—the dim streetlights with no cameras, and the faint chemical smell in the air, Gwen felt completely lost.
My God, America finished de-industrializing years ago! What universe is this?
"Bang!" "Bang!"
Two gunshots rang out in the distance. Gwen spun toward the sound and saw a masked gunman cornering a well-dressed couple in an alley. Both of them were already lying in pools of blood. There was even a child!
"No! Stop!"
As a professional hero, Gwen instantly fired a web-line from dozens of meters away, perfectly wrapping the gunman's face. He clutched cash and a pearl necklace, panicked, and tried to flee, firing wildly behind him. One bullet struck the child.
"Holy shit!"
Gwen leaped over in one bound, kicked the thug flying, and webbed him up tightly. She then turned to check on the kid.
Thank goodness the bullet had only grazed his shoulder and hadn't damaged his handsome little face… Wait, why the hell am I noticing his looks first? He's still a kid!
"Wake up, kid. What's your name?"
"Bruce. Bruce Wayne!" The handsome young master was clearly terrified, but he quickly pulled himself together. He grabbed Gwen's hand and cried out, "Please save my mom and dad!"
Gwen glanced back at the couple lying in rivers of blood and could only shrug. "Sorry, Master Bruce. From my experience… they're pretty much gone."
She wanted to phrase it more gently, but facts were facts.
Besides, this was clearly a plot-mandated death.
Otherwise how do you explain two shots that accurate? They died so cleanly. If you're that good with a gun, why rob people? Go become Deadshot!
This was the will of the greater universe!
Gwen understood that feeling all too well. In her own universe, she and Peter could never coexist.
"Alright kid, calm down. You should call the police right now!"
"But I don't have a phone…"
"Oh thank God you at least know what a phone is. Means this world isn't as bad as I thought! Your dad must have one. Let me check… Uh, what model is this? Sorry, I don't really know how to use it."
The flip phone she pulled from Mr. Wayne's corpse made Gwen's heart sink. She had only ever seen this antique model in museums. She compared it to her own iPhone XX—sure enough, no signal at all.
Wait… why is there a strange new icon on the screen? Is this the legendary "Traveler System" golden finger from Eastern mystery novels? But my battery is only at fifteen percent…
The phone went black.
Don't die on me now, you piece of crap! Gwen wanted to scream. She had brought her phone but no charger. Given the tech level of this era, there was probably zero chance of finding a Type-C cable…
The young master calmly called the police, then turned to look at the masked weirdo in the white skin-tight spider suit sitting on the ground, clutching a strange electronic device and grinding her teeth in frustration.
"Um… thank you for saving me…"
"You're welcome. It's what superheroes do."
"Superhero?"
"I know I don't look like one."
Gwen put down her phone and sighed. "But I really am a superhero. You can call me Ghost-Spider."
"I get the spider part. Why ghost?"
"Because all the cool names were already taken."
......
The conversation died.
The young master was heartbroken. Gwen knew he desperately wanted to ask why she couldn't save his parents, but he never said it. He just huddled in the corner, hugging his knees and staring into space.
At least in that regard, he was already far beyond the average clueless civilian. This kid had real potential.
Gwen realized she still didn't have an identity here, but she could at least wait with him until the police arrived. So the two of them sat together in the corner, quietly staring at the bodies.
Only when the sound of sirens finally approached did Gwen suddenly smack her forehead, remembering something important.
"By the way… I actually wanted to ask. Where exactly are we?"
The young master looked at the suspicious, possibly insane older sister with a gaze full of grief, sorrow, and unexpected kindness. In a quiet voice he answered:
"Gotham."