The golden, telepathic projection surrounding the tarmac shifted violently. The serene cosmos warped into a blinding, chaotic storm of raw power. At the center of the destruction stood a single humanoid figure.
Michael Korvac.
He didn't look like a conqueror. He looked like a broken, emaciated man. Yet, immeasurable waves of cosmic energy bled from his pores, tearing the fabric of the Kree territory apart with every step he took. He was a deranged, rambling, walking weapon of mass destruction.
Peter narrowed his eyes beneath his white lenses, watching the holographic destruction. "What was he saying?"
"He claimed he originated from the thirty-first century," Adam Warlock replied, his voice echoing from everywhere at once. "At first, my companions and I were unsure what that meant in a galactic context. But judging by his trajectory toward this world, he likely meant Earth's thirty-first century."
Peter rubbed the back of his neck, processing the new data. The name Korvac rang a very specific, terrifying bell in his comic-book-stuffed brain. In the Earth's Mightiest Heroes animated series, Michael Korvac was just an ordinary Earth technician abducted and horrifically experimented on by the Kree. But a thirty-first-century origin? That sounded far more like the classic comic lore. The multiverse was aggressively shuffling the deck again.
Suddenly, a sharp, icy needle of static pierced the base of Peter's skull.
Bzzzt.
Peter physically flinched. He whipped his head around, his eyes scanning the military perimeter, the jungle canopy, and the clear blue sky. He didn't sense an immediate attack. This felt different. It felt like someone was standing right behind him, breathing on his neck, but the space was completely empty.
Just outside the boundaries of normal spacetime, seated in an invisible, chronal-damped observation chair, Kang the Conqueror narrowed his eyes.
Kang kept his temporal footprint erased, distancing his physical form from the localized reality of the tarmac. He had tracked the phrase "thirty-first century" across the timestream, seeking the root cause of the recent multiverse collision crisis. It was a staggering anomaly that Spider-Man's rudimentary precognition could detect the faint ripple of a temporal observer.
The thirty-first century is my domain, Kang thought coldly.
"If this Korvac is from the thirty-first century," Peter said, completely unaware of the time-traveler hovering inches from reality, "why is he losing his mind? And why come back here?"
"We do not have the full picture," Adam admitted, his golden projection dimming slightly. "The only coherent fragments I pulled from his mind were warnings. He claimed he was driven mad by a terrible conqueror. A tyrant who coveted his cosmic power and sought to rewrite the universe."
A thirty-first-century conqueror? Peter's breath caught in his throat. Kang.
In the chronal observation chair, Kang went completely rigid. He immediately severed his localized viewing tether, snapping his consciousness back to the bridge of his massive, sword-shaped temporal warship housed in the Quantum Realm.
Kang rapidly tapped the holographic console floating in front of his command throne. "Computer. Query database. Subject: Michael Korvac. Timestamp origin: Thirty-first century Earth."
The ship's hyper-advanced AI processed a millennium of historical records in a microsecond. Holographic profiles flickered across the bridge. None of them matched the emaciated, glowing man Adam Warlock had projected. Kang expanded the search parameters. Still nothing.
There was no record of a cosmic entity named Michael Korvac in the thirty-first century.
Frustrated, Kang re-established his chronal tether, dropping his invisible observation window back onto the Puerto Rican tarmac just in time to hear the end of the story.
"Because I possess the Soul Stone, I attempted to pacify his mind," Adam explained to Peter and the others. "I believed I could anchor his sanity. But his raw power vastly exceeded my calculations. The moment I entered his consciousness, his internal containment shattered."
Adam lowered his head. The projection showed the planet fracturing into dust. "I failed. An entire world burned because his energy leaked into the crust. He survived the planetary explosion unharmed, muttering to himself as he drifted into the void. His final destination was Earth."
The golden projection shattered like glass, returning everyone to the blinding heat of the afternoon sun.
Peter let out a long, heavy exhale. "So, you guys flew to Earth to give us a heads-up. Appreciate the warning. Really. But do you have any actual ideas on how to stop a guy who accidentally sneezes planets into dust?"
"We require raw, overwhelming force," Adam said smoothly. "Power capable of hindering his movement long enough for me to attempt a second psychic containment."
Peter grinned under his mask. "Well, you definitely parked in the right driveway." He pointed a finger straight up at the sky.
The barometric pressure plummeted instantly. Dark, heavy storm clouds rapidly gathered directly over the Arecibo Observatory, blotting out the sun. A deafening crack of thunder shook the military transport buses.
A man clad in silver chainmail and a flowing red cape plummeted from the clouds, landing on the tarmac with a concussive boom that cracked the concrete. Thor Odinson slowly stood up, casually twirling Mjolnir by its leather strap. Lightning crackled across the enchanted Uru metal.
"I heard your call, Man of Spiders," Thor boomed, his deep voice carrying easily over the wind. He turned his piercing blue eyes toward the golden-skinned alien. "What aid do you require? And who is this remarkably powerful sorcerer?"
"We're hunting a walking cosmic bomb, Point Break," Peter said, stepping up beside the thunder god. "But first, we need to figure out if he's actually hit Earth's atmosphere yet."
At the edge of the military perimeter, Dr. Michael Rossi went entirely pale. His mouth dropped open as a horrifying realization hit him. He remembered the brief, anomalous energy spike that had flashed across his deep-space monitors just before the Guardians arrived.
It wasn't a sensor glitch. Korvac was already here.
Peter Parker was a magnet for absolute disaster.
Gwen had long since accepted this as a fundamental law of physics. Even when he explicitly left New York City to take a vacation in a sleepy, tropical paradise, Peter inevitably tripped over an alien invasion.
With the Arecibo tour completely locked down by the military, Gwen found herself wandering the colorful, cobblestone streets of Old San Juan entirely alone. The historic district was beautiful, lined with pastel-colored colonial buildings and the faint sound of ocean waves, but the tourist shops held zero interest for her.
She sighed, stepping out of a small, air-conditioned cafe with an iced coffee. She turned the corner down a narrow alleyway and immediately stopped.
A man lay sprawled on the sun-baked cobblestones. He wore a heavy, ragged gray hoodie—an insane clothing choice for the Caribbean heat. He was shivering violently.
Gwen's natural New York instincts told her to keep walking. But her conscience firmly planted her feet. She carefully approached, keeping her distance.
"Excuse me," Gwen called out, her voice calm but projecting clearly. "Are you alright, sir?"
The man gasped, scrambling into a sitting position. He pulled his hands up to his face, staring at his own palms as if he had never seen fingers before. He looked completely lost. Then, his sunken, bloodshot eyes snapped onto Gwen.
His pupils dilated. "You..." he croaked, his voice raspy. "You're one of the spiders? No. No, no. You're not a spider yet."
Gwen froze. The iced coffee in her hand suddenly felt very heavy.
One of the spiders? Did he mean Peter? Did he know Peter's identity? Gwen immediately straightened her posture, shifting her weight onto the balls of her feet, ready to bolt or fight.
"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, sir," Gwen said coldly. "I don't know who you are."
"My name is Korvac," the man babbled, wrapping his arms tightly around his knees. He rocked back and forth on the cobblestones. "I am a friend of the Avengers. I am a friend of Spider-Man."
Gwen's brow furrowed. Peter had literally never mentioned anyone named Korvac. And Peter talked a lot.
Korvac grabbed the fabric of his own hood, pulling it down over his messy hair. He looked up at her with terrified, desperate eyes. "It's not a spider yet. What... what time is it?"
"It's about two in the afternoon," Gwen said slowly.
"No! The date!" Korvac yelled, his voice cracking. "What is the date?!"
"November 5th," Gwen answered, her heart beating a little faster. Seeing his vacant expression, she slowly added, "2012."
"No! No, no, no! I'm too early! I'm too early! Damn it!"
Korvac violently shoved himself off the ground. He swayed unsteadily on his feet, practically vibrating with a strange, manic energy. He lunged forward, stopping just inches from Gwen.
"You know Spider-Man," Korvac pleaded, his hands hovering frantically in the air between them. "You know the Avengers. You have to contact them. Help me."
Gwen took a deliberate step backward, creating space. "Sir, I don't know you. And I highly doubt you need the Avengers. I think you need a hospital and a hot meal."
"No! I need the Avengers!" Korvac screamed, clutching his own head. "I need them to help me get home!"
"Okay, fine," Gwen said, slipping her free hand into her pocket to grip her phone. "Where is your home?"
"I don't know where my home is!"
Gwen stared at the erratic man. Total amnesia? A psychotic break? She pulled her phone out, unlocking the screen. "Alright. I can make a call. But I need you to calm down and tell me exactly who you are. No riddles."
Korvac stared at her phone as if it were an alien artifact. He blinked, the panic momentarily draining from his eyes, replaced by a cold, haunting clarity.
"My name is Korvac," he whispered. "I am a friend of Spider-Man." He tilted his head, his voice dropping into a hollow monotone. "And I am a Cosmic Cube from the thirty-first century."
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