For the past few days, the Amazing Spider-Man had been staying in Stan's attic. A spider in the attic—it just sounded right. The original plan was for Skyl to teach him portal magic, and once he mastered it, he'd be able to travel back and forth between parallel universes.
That way, Peter could keep both worlds in balance—work in one, life in the other. When Skyl brought it up, Peter looked so happy he practically started blowing snot bubbles. But in the end, he was still Spider-Man, still weighed down by that crushing sense of responsibility. He couldn't let go of the people in the other world, and he couldn't let go of the other world's Gwen, either.
Peter wasn't going to lie to himself and say, Gwen is Gwen, they're basically the same.
They weren't. That difference was real. The Gwen from his world had Peter in her life. Her high school years were filled with traces of him, one moment after another. But the Gwen in this world had never had Peter Parker in her life at all.
Even if, at their core, they were the same person, different experiences meant they could never truly be equal. The Ship of Theseus could have every plank replaced, but that would never change the seas it had sailed. Those winds and waves had struck its hull for real. The visible boards didn't define the truth of the ship—its invisible history did, and that was what made it unique.
Skyl drove the food truck back to Stan's house.
The display shelves on the first floor were lined with superhero figurines. On Peter's first day moving in, Skyl had warned him not to touch them unless he wanted to wind up in another universe.
"So we're using those figures now?" Peter asked, rolling up his sleeves as he stared at the one modeled after himself.
"That one won't help," Skyl explained. "Normally, if you go back in time and change history, all you do is create a parallel timeline. For you personally, the outcome stays the same."
"So?"
"So we need something else."
Skyl led Peter into Stan's workshop. The old man was using an eraser to rub out part of a draft. Skyl leaned over for a look and almost laughed. Sure enough, Stan had already started sketching out a story where an amnesiac Spider-Man transferred to Midtown High and fell into a youthful romance with a fangirl Gwen.
That was the future that would've happened after Skyl erased Peter's memories. Now it had become scrap paper.
Stan pouted, clearly unhappy.
"What's with the long face, old man? We're just bringing someone back from the dead. Next door in Dragon Ball, they bring back the whole planet every other week."
"Lin, don't you understand?" Stan said, his wrinkled face heavy with concern. "Spider-Man has his own destiny. This boy is meant to lose some of the most important people in his life."
Skyl thought back on the Amazing Spider-Man movies. "Yeah, sure. In some really terrible ways, too. Peter's Uncle Ben saw a random mugger and jumped in to help like it was nothing. I honestly have no idea how a man like that made it to that age in America. Captain George Stacy died heroically fighting the Lizard, but if Peter hadn't handed over the key formula in the first place, the Lizard never would've existed. And as for Gwen—if Peter had donated his blood, Harry Osborn might've been able to develop a perfect cure instead of turning into the Green Goblin. And if that never happened, Gwen wouldn't have died."
Stan's face creased even deeper. "A lot of mistakes look fixable from the outside. But in truth, they were decided long ago. It's a road with no return."
"If there's no way back, then we walk it again," Skyl said. "No big deal."
He plucked the brush from the old man's hand, grabbed a fresh sheet of paper, and scribbled down a title in a rush:
Spider-Man Goes Back to the Future!
Stan let out an annoyed sigh. "Back to the Future? You're pulling out an old movie title from the last century. You're even less fashionable than I am. Why not call it Days of Future Past instead?"
"You're losing it, Stan. The X-Men already used Days of Future Past. Your title's the unoriginal one."
Skyl's hand moved so fast the pen practically sparked against the page.
He wrote that his food truck had been struck by a mysterious burst of cosmic energy, giving it the power to travel through time. Perfect timing, really, because it could now take the Amazing Spider-Man back to the night Uncle Ben was killed.
Skyl only wrote the opening setup, so the job was done in no time. He stuffed the page into Peter's hands.
"Hang on to that. Don't lose it."
"And what if I do lose it?"
"Then pray nobody edits what's written on it. Trust me, you would not like the result."
Still half-confused, Peter carefully put the sketch away and followed Skyl back into the food truck.
"Gali!" Skyl called out as an afterthought. "Peter and I are heading out on a little trip. Want to come watch the show?"
"Is it a space adventure? Are there alien snacks?"
"Nope. Just time travel."
"Then I'll pass. Have fun."
Gali was a purebred foodie, absolutely loyal to food above all else. As for adventure, it didn't even make the shortlist.
Peter scratched his head. "The food truck got hit by energy from outer space? How exactly is that supposed to happen?"
"Didn't I already draw it?" Skyl said. "You just need to wait a second."
He lifted his head and looked up at the clear blue sky. New York had beautiful weather that day.
"There. See it?"
A point of starlight appeared in the daylight sky, flaring brighter and brighter. Then a multicolored beam slammed dead-center into the food truck parked in the yard.
The roaring wind it unleashed blew away the fence and sent the mailbox tumbling.
When the rainbow column finally faded, a huge circular magic formation burned across Stan's lawn. A broad, naked man had appeared out of nowhere and was lying on top of the food truck. He shifted groggily twice, then fell right back asleep.
Peter stared, dumbfounded. "What is happening right now?"
"That's the Bifrost from Asgard. See the naked musclehead? That's Thor, the thunder god from Norse mythology."
Skyl slapped a hand to his forehead. So they'd dropped straight into the plot of Thor. Odin had exiled Thor to Earth, and he was supposed to earn back his power through trial and hardship.
"Not exactly what I had in mind," Skyl muttered, "but it's fine. I only drew a rough draft anyway. The details are all up to coincidence."
Peter helped haul Thor down from the roof. "So what do we do now?"
"Let Stan look after him. We're going back to save your uncle first."
And just like that, a musclebound Thor had fallen out of the sky and somehow wound up living in the house of the One-Above-All. Stan Lee was not pleased, because the Bifrost had wrecked his lawn. The upstairs bedrooms were full, and the attic already had a Spider-Man in it. Thor had no choice but to sleep in the first-floor storage room, right next to the vacuum cleaner.
"My house is turning into a hotel!" the old man grumbled as he stood at the gate to see them off. "Safe travels."
Skyl fired up the food truck and floored it. The speedometer needle spun so fast it looked ready to fly off. In the passenger seat, Peter watched the scenery outside twist and warp. The truck blew past the speed of light, and after a violent burst of radiance, all the light behind them was left behind in absolute blackness while the road ahead blazed white, as if they had rammed straight into a white hole.
In a split second, the food truck entered a tunnel through time and space. The whole vehicle shook so hard it felt like it might come apart.
Peter's spider-sense screamed at him. Every instinct in his body told him that if he fell into the temporal vortex outside the truck, he would die horribly.
Even Spider-Man, who was used to leaping from skyscrapers, couldn't stop himself from screaming.
"AHHHHHH! —"
Beside him, Skyl gripped the steering wheel with one hand and savored the thrill of a faster-than-light joyride.
"Hey, Peter!" he shouted. "You ever seen Back to the Future? Same idea—except we're doing it in a food truck instead of a DeLorean!"
His voice stretched out, as if it were being pulled into eternity. In the misty blur of time itself, the food truck seemed to shrink shorter and shorter, smaller than an atom.
And then everything went black.
Peter lost consciousness for a moment.
"Hey, Peter... wake up."
Someone patted his cheek. Peter opened his eyes.
It was Skyl. The young wizard's face was deathly pale, his forehead drenched in cold sweat, though his spirits still seemed high.
"Peter, we're here. Get out."
The two of them jumped down from the food truck and looked around.
It was still New York.
But day had turned to night.
"Hey, Peter."
A familiar voice spoke from behind him.
Peter turned around.
It was Uncle Ben—alive, standing right there in front of him.
"Oh my God..." Peter whispered in disbelief.
Then he threw himself forward and wrapped Uncle Ben in a fierce embrace.
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