If someone had forced Gwen Stacy to map out Peter Parker's ultimate destiny, she would have confidently placed him right here: teaching advanced physics at Empire State University. Aside from swinging from skyscrapers and occasionally getting punched through brick walls, being a brilliant, slightly chaotic university professor was exactly the future Peter deserved.
The sprawling ESU campus looked practically identical to the one in her own universe. The manicured quad, the towering brick facades, the students rushing past with armfuls of textbooks—it was a surreal slice of normality in an otherwise upside-down world.
"I've got to admit," the older, adult Peter Parker said, leading her down the fluorescent-lit corridor of the science building. He was wearing a rumpled tweed jacket over a faded graphic tee, looking every bit the tired academic. "If you didn't look exactly like a teenager, I would have assumed my Gwen had just gotten possessed by a symbiote."
Gwen adjusted the cuffs of the black hoodie she had forced the suit to mimic. "Wait. Don't you have a symbiote suit in this universe?"
Adult Peter stuffed his hands into his pockets, his smile faltering slightly. "I had one. I got rid of it."
A cold, heavy pressure vibrated against the base of Gwen's skull.
[THAT IS HIGHLY SUSPICIOUS.] Venom's voice rumbled through her nervous system, dripping with dark skepticism.
Why? Gwen asked silently, keeping her pace even. He probably just realized it was messing with his head.
[WE DO NOT SIMPLY LEAVE,] Venom retorted. [AND HOSTS DO NOT SIMPLY SURRENDER THAT KIND OF POWER WITHOUT A CATASTROPHIC FIGHT. THERE IS NO LOGICAL REASON FOR HIM TO ABANDON THE BOND.]
Gwen swallowed hard, glancing sideways at the older Peter. She decided not to press the issue. She had bigger problems—like figuring out how to cross the dimensional barrier.
I don't think it would be too difficult to send us back, Gwen thought hopefully. Peter mentioned Reed Richards built a machine...
[THERE IS NO REED RICHARDS IN THIS UNIVERSE,] Venom shot back instantly. [THERE IS NO TONY STARK EITHER. YOU SAW THE SKYLINE. UNLESS YOU EXPECT NORMAN OSBORN TO BUILD A DIMENSIONAL GATEWAY OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF HIS HEART, WE ARE STRANDED.]
Gwen wanted to argue, but the alien made an infuriatingly solid point. She let out a quiet, frustrated sigh.
Adult Peter stopped in front of a heavy oak door bearing a frosted glass plaque that read DR. STACY-PARKER. He didn't knock. He just pushed the door open, a massive, genuine grin breaking across his face.
"Hey, Gwen," Adult Peter called out into the room. "You are never going to guess who I ran into today."
Teenage Gwen stepped cautiously into the room. Her breath caught in her throat.
Standing on the other side of a cluttered desk, wearing a pristine white lab coat over a professional blouse, was an adult Gwen Stacy. The older woman looked up from a stack of graded papers, her bright blue eyes widening in absolute shock as she dropped her red pen onto the desk.
Ten minutes later, the initial shock had faded into a bizarre, hyper-focused brainstorming session.
"I'm not exactly an expert on quantum mechanics or parallel dimensions," Adult Peter muttered, rapidly typing on a dual-monitor setup. "But I'll run the diagnostics based on what you've told me."
Teenage Gwen stood near the edge of the desk, hugging her arms around her chest. Her Peter had once explained that different multiverses possessed unique, baseline "vibrational frequencies," a concept he had picked up from Reed Richards. Adult Peter was currently attempting to isolate their native frequency using ESU's mainframe.
Since her knowledge of quantum physics was strictly limited to whatever Peter rambled about during lunch periods, Gwen let the adult Spider-Man work.
"So," Adult Gwen said softly, leaning against the edge of a filing cabinet. She held two steaming ceramic mugs, offering one to her younger counterpart. The smell of dark roast coffee filled the cramped office. "How are things going on your end?"
Gwen took the mug, wrapping her cold hands around the warm ceramic. "Huh? What do you mean?"
"You and Peter," Adult Gwen smiled, a knowing, almost nostalgic twinkle in her eye. "Haven't you guys made any progress at all?"
Gwen's face instantly burned. She gripped the mug tighter, shifting her weight awkwardly. "We... we aren't in that kind of relationship. We're best friends. Plus, we're fifteen. We haven't even taken our SATs yet."
Adult Gwen took a slow sip of her coffee, completely unbothered by the defensive stammering. "Have you ever thought about what kind of partner you actually want in the future?"
"No," Gwen lied quickly. "Why?"
"Because you might want to start imagining it," the older woman suggested gently. "Or, conversely, start thinking about where you're going to find someone better than him if you let him slip away."
"We have a long future ahead of us," Gwen muttered stubbornly, staring down at her black sneakers. She desperately wanted to change the subject.
The room fell quiet, save for the rapid clicking of Adult Peter's keyboard. After a long minute, Teenage Gwen looked up, her expression turning serious.
"Do you... do you ever feel powerless?" she asked quietly. "Knowing he's out there fighting, and you don't have superpowers to help him?"
Adult Gwen lowered her mug. The playful nostalgia in her eyes vanished, replaced by a deep, weathered resilience. "There are a hundred ways to help Peter Parker without throwing a punch. Sometimes, the absolute most important thing you can do is just be the anchor. Let him know someone is in his corner."
She reached out, gently tapping the rim of her younger self's mug. "He is far more fragile than you realize, Gwen. In your universe, he hasn't failed much yet. He hasn't lost many people. But one day, he will. The city will hit him too hard. He'll feel like nothing he does matters. And when the guy who spends his whole life saving everyone else finally despairs..."
"I'll tell him to quit."
Adult Gwen blinked, completely taken aback by the fierce, unyielding tone in her younger self's voice.
"No one ever decreed that the universe absolutely must have a Spider-Man," Teenage Gwen said, her chin tilting up defiantly. "Nobody said he owes the world his blood. If the mask is going to break him, I won't stand behind him and push him back into the meat grinder. I'll pull him out."
She took a sharp breath, her eyes flashing. "If the safety of the entire world rests squarely on the shoulders of one fifteen-year-old kid in Queens... then the world is what's broken. Not him."
Adult Gwen simply stared at her, a profound mix of shock and quiet pride washing over her features.
Teenage Gwen took a sip of her coffee, her mind racing. She hadn't realized how fiercely protective she felt until the words actually left her mouth. But Peter wasn't exactly a smooth operator. It wasn't like he was actively trying to get closer to other girls anyway. He was too busy getting punched by supervillains to flirt.
[DID YOU TRULY NOT KNOW THAT CINDY MOON KISSED HIM?] Gwen choked. She violently coughed, nearly dropping the ceramic mug onto the linoleum floor. Coffee splashed over her knuckles.
"Whoa, you okay?" Adult Peter asked, glancing over his shoulder.
"Fine! Swallowed wrong! Just thinking!" Gwen hacked out, waving her free hand frantically. She turned her back to the adults, her face flushing a deep, furious crimson.
What did you just say?! Gwen screamed internally, her mental voice echoing with absolute outrage. When did that happen?!
[LATE SEPTEMBER,] Venom replied, sounding incredibly smug for a puddle of alien goo. [BEFORE I WAS LIBERATED FROM THE LABORATORY. HE NEVER MENTIONED IT TO YOU?]
No! He absolutely did not!
[FASCINATING. THEY ARE CURRENTLY IN A HIGHLY AWKWARD STATE OF AVOIDANCE. THEY BARELY SPEAK TO ONE ANOTHER. DO YOU INTEND TO CONFRONT HIM? OR PERHAPS FIGHT THE MOON GIRL?]
Gwen didn't know whether to scream, throw her coffee at the wall, or rip the symbiote out of her own pores. Her brain short-circuited entirely. Peter and Cindy? Quiet, intense, practically invisible Cindy Moon?
A sharp, agonizing spike of pure ice drove itself directly into the base of her skull. The Spider-Sense.
Gwen didn't even have time to shout a warning. She dropped the mug and dove sideways on pure instinct.
CRASH.
The heavy, reinforced glass window of the fourth-floor office exploded inward. Shards of glass rained across the linoleum like shrapnel. Adult Peter instantly abandoned his keyboard, dropping into a low, terrifyingly fast combat crouch, his fists raised.
Gwen rolled to her feet, the black symbiote instantly washing over her clothes, reforming her jagged white spider suit and mask.
But the intruder wasn't a supervillain.
A teenage girl landed in the center of the office amid the shattered glass. She wore a sleek, high-tech suit—black limbs, a stark white torso, and a red mask pulled up to cover the lower half of her face.
Cindy Moon slowly stood up. She looked at Adult Peter. She looked at Adult Gwen. Finally, her dark eyes locked onto the black-suited teenage Gwen Stacy.
Cindy blinked, completely bewildered.
Inside Gwen's mind, the instigating alien parasite suddenly realized the gravity of the situation.
[OH NO,] Venom whispered. [WE ARE DOOMED.]