Once again, thousands of fantastic, multi-colored spatial vortices flared up in one of Hell's Kitchen's dark alleyways.
A moment later, the glow began to fade slowly, and in the center of the alley, a superhero emerged, pushing himself up heavily from his knees. Spider-Man's suit looked far more tattered than the day he first set foot in the cultivators' world: the fabric was slashed in many places with deep cuts and tears, exposing scorched skin.
Suddenly, Peter Parker's "spider-sense" flared up with renewed strength. He felt the space around him so acutely, as if the universe itself were pouring information into him. It took only a second to map his current location against the old mental maps of Hell's Kitchen. A sharp thwip of web—and he pulled himself to a familiar brick wall. Another yank, another... and he was already gliding through the shadows, returning to the city's familiar rhythm.
Peter's thoughts finally began to fall into order. Tian Lin's theory had been confirmed: interdimensional travel had indeed destroyed the Demon's malignant influence. This allowed Peter to finally begin fully absorbing internal Qi energy and focusing his mind.
The Swarm Mind, which had long tried to consume Parker's consciousness, was finally trampled into the recesses of his subconscious by the hero's infinite will. There was no "us" anymore. There was only "him"—Peter Parker. Only Spider-Man.
Deep within his mental space, Peter felt a foreign object—the ring. "So, I need to find someone who can scan the energy signature and locate the path to Tian Lin's universe," he thought. Victory over the Swarm hadn't been without its benefits: Peter's cognitive abilities had skyrocketed to an extreme level. When the Swarm retreated, his thoughts became hundreds of times clearer, and the instincts of eternal hunger and hunting had finally quieted down.
At that moment, a familiar buzz scorched the back of his neck. His Spider-sense clamored, and in a split second, Peter saw a vision of his own death from a rocket hit. That instant was enough: turning mid-air, he dodged the attack trajectory. An earsplitting explosion thundered above him. Ba-boom!
"Damn it!"
one of the goons below screamed in terror.
A hail of bullets showered upon the Web-slinger. Using his monstrous reflexes, Peter vaulted over obstacles with non-human grace, dodging fire and using webbing for maneuvers.
The dark night gave him an undeniable advantage: his sense allowed him to see the entire battlefield, regardless of gunshot flashes or deep shadows. The thugs didn't stand a chance.
With incredible speed, Peter reached his opponents. Two precise web shots—and the assault rifles were ripped from the shooters' hands.
The grenadier didn't even have time to reload: Spider-Man hooked a small stone with his foot and kicked it with force. The makeshift projectile flew into the shooter's forehead at tremendous speed, and he, eyes rolling back, collapsed unconscious.
The remaining two thugs started backing away in terror. Instantly, Spider-Man was behind one of them and sent him into a knockout with a short blow to the neck. Then he slowly turned his gaze towards the last survivor.
"So who decided to greet me so 'cordially'?"
Scanning the assailant's figure, Peter realized: this was no ordinary street thief before him. Expensive clothes, a massive gold ring on his finger—in Hell's Kitchen, only representatives of one specific group could present themselves like that.
"Save your breath. I already know it's Kingpin."
The thug's face turned purple. He knew his boss's temper and understood: Fisk would never believe that some "vigilante in tights" could track them down so quickly. Rage, mixed with primal fear, could be read in the criminal's eyes.
"Listen, you freak! You really think you can keep this party going? Hunting us, saving people? We know what you really are! A filthy, disgusting monster..."
He didn't have time to finish. Grabbing him by the throat, Spider-Man lifted him off the ground. The goon's face was turning blue from lack of oxygen, he desperately tried to break the steel grip, but it was all in vain. Peter slowly pulled off his mask.
The thug's eyes widened in transcendent terror: thousands of Swarm segments began slowly unfolding under Peter's skin, his face twisted for a moment, turning into a horrific mockery of a spider-like appearance. The goon's face was inches from this abyss when memories suddenly flooded over Parker...
"Master Spider-Man... you're... not quite human, are you?"
Bao Zhan's voice was barely audible, but Peter's heightened senses caught every word.
"I do not demand confessions. It doesn't matter where you are from or what you are. I just want to say: whatever hides under your mask, you saved me and my students. I am sincerely grateful to you. You are a true warrior. Tian Lin calls you a hero, and I agree with him. And... regardless of whether you consider yourself human, I see the Human within you. I believe in that, Master Spider-Man."
After a long silence, Bao Zhan held out a piece of meat to Peter:
"Would you care to try?"
his voice had grown much softer.
"With pleasure"
Peter had replied then.
The thug collapsed to the ground. For the first time, not the Swarm was controlling Peter, but Peter was controlling the Swarm. The hero made an ultimate decision: he would forever renounce his wild instincts and become who Bao Zhan thought he was. However... something primal still remained within him.
Crack!
A sickening crunch resounded—Spider-Man broke the criminal's leg so he could no longer hunt innocents. And so that the scream wouldn't shatter the silence of his moment of enlightenment, Peter sealed the goon's mouth with webbing. Instead of yells, only a muffled, choked howl was heard.
A thwip of web—and the hero soared into the air again, giving a goodbye wave to the crippled goon. He would deal with Kingpin later. Right now, his goal was someone who could help Tian Lin. Yes, Peter hadn't been able to defeat the Demon alone, but Hulk, Thor, or Doctor Strange would have rubbed such a creature into dust without even breaking a sweat. Peter felt immense gratitude toward his cultivator friend. For if it hadn't been for Tian Lin, the Swarm would have eventually devoured Parker's mind, turning him into an eternally hungry monster terrorizing New York.
But now, he had a future.
Ahead, piercing the clouds, Stark Tower towered—a true manifesto of technological greatness.
Tony Stark hadn't appeared in public for several years, since the battle with the Mandarin.
Rumors circulated that while all the terrorist's henchmen had died in that fight, Tony himself had suffered an irreplaceable loss—the death of Pepper Potts.
This was the trigger: Iron Man closed himself off from the world, turning into a genius hermit.
The nearly 800-meter-high tower dominated the city. Unmanned drones swarmed around it—high-tech sentries, Iron Man suits, allowing no one to even approach the citadel.
Spidey landed right in front of the main entrance. Hundreds of passersby froze, looking at him in shock: legends of Spider-Man's death had long taken hold of the citizens' minds. Slowly, he approached the gate. Droids immediately surrounded him, scanning every centimeter of his tattered suit.
Peter looked up at the lens of the nearest drone and smiled slightly beneath his mask:
"Hey, Tony. How's it going buddy?"