Earth-21923
This was the Wasteland Universe.
Things had actually improved since Peter's last visit. The Black Panther from the Zombie Universe had taken command of the Sunset Avengers. For the past month, T'Challa had been leading a relentless, scorched-earth campaign against the Red Skull's regime. The Sunset Avengers were an unstoppable, ragtag nightmare for the fascists. T'Challa, Hawkeye, Melissa Gold, Kate Bishop, Yelena Belova, Forge, Vision's android daughter Viv, Daken Akihiro, Laura Kinney, War Machine, Sandman and Ashley Barton, the brutal new Spider-Woman. They were carving a bloody swath through the country.
Red Skull was backed into such a desperate corner he had resorted to harvesting the DNA of dead heroes to clone a makeshift superhuman army.
"Most of the old guys who survived the initial purge just retired to the quiet sectors to keep the peace," Clint Barton said, leaning as he led the group down the futuristic street. The old archer wore a leather jacket and dark sunglasses "Hell, just the other day we raided an old tavern Juggernaut used to run. And you know what we found sitting behind the bar?"
Hawkeye cracked a wide, gap-toothed grin. "We found Wade Wilson's severed head floating in a jar of moonshine!"
Peter stopped walking. He stared at the old man, his jaw dropping beneath his red mask. "...Please tell me you didn't unscrew the lid and resurrect Deadpool."
Earth-65 Gwen Stacy stood next to Peter. She kept her green jacket pulled tight, looking around the supposedly 'Wasteland Universe'.
"I thought you said this is the Wasteland universe, but all I can see is advance futuristic city" 65-Gwen question.
"It was a first, but after Mr. Fantastic multiverse error that led me to rescuing the Fantastic 4 in the Zombie universe, this universe gains more people and more heroes that came from there, Reed Richard and Magneto both build New Vegas to be like this" Peter explained.
Miguel O'Hara walked a few paces behind them. The hulking, futuristic Spider-Man from 2099 stopped dead in his tracks. The neon lights reflected off the razor-sharp talons on his fingertips.
"Wait," Miguel growled, his synthesized voice dropping an octave. "There is an entire reality populated by infected, undead corpses?"
"Yep," Peter nodded cheerfully. "We blew one of them up a while back to stop a cosmic plague. But its infinite possibilities so maybe more lingering out there. So, you know, watch your step around portals."
Miguel stared at Peter in profound, absolute silence. He was a man of science, order, and temporal logic. The casual mention of a rotting, cannibalistic multiverse severely tested his patience.
"Anyway," Clint interrupted. "The location you requested is just past the city limits. It sits right in the middle of former Hulk territory. Back during the uprising, the Red Skull dropped a dozen tactical nuclear warheads on that grid trying to permanently vaporize old man Banner. The topsoil is basically glowing glass. The radiation levels are off the charts. Should be exactly what you need."
Miguel frowned deeply behind his cowl. He stepped forward, crossing his massive arms over his spiked chest emblem.
"Parker," Miguel demanded. "Why are we establishing our Spider-City inside a highly irradiated blast crater?"
Peter turned to face him. He didn't smile. The easy, quippy demeanor vanished, replaced entirely by the hardened, tactical focus of an Avenger.
"Because of the Inheritors," Peter said, his voice deadly serious.
Miguel tilted his head. He knew Peter had encountered a terrifying, hostile force of Spider-Totems called the Spider-Legion. The Legion boasted variants capable of conquering their own dimensions single-handedly. But the Inheritors were a different threat entirely.
"One of the reasons The Spider-Legion is recruiting violent variants is to build an army against a family of inter-dimensional vampires," Peter explained, pacing the cracked asphalt. "The Inheritors. They travel the multiverse. They don't want money or territory. They survive by feeding on pure, concentrated animal totemic energy. And spider-totems are their absolute favorite meal. I'm not exaggerating, Miguel. In a straight physical fight, we cannot beat them. They are immortal, and they hit harder than the Hulk."
Peter pointed toward the glowing green horizon of the wasteland.
"But they have a biological weakness," Peter continued. "They can only consume pure life force. They cannot process energy that has been contaminated by heavy nuclear radiation. In fact, prolonged exposure to severe radiation is lethally toxic to their cellular structure."
Miguel's red eyes narrowed. The tactical brilliance of the move clicked instantly.
"So," Miguel rumbled, nodding slowly. "A highly irradiated wasteland serves as a natural fortress. A safe-zone they cannot physically breach."
"Exactly," Peter confirmed. "We build Spider-City in the crater. It becomes the ultimate fallback point for any Spider-Totem running from the Inheritors or the Legion."
"Acceptable," Miguel stated, turning his gaze toward the horizon. "When I return to Earth-928, I will requisition heavy engineering drones. I can synthesize radiation shielding for the internal habitats. We will break ground immediately. Once the perimeter is established, I will begin recruiting specific, vetted allies. Earth-700's Peter Parker is an ideal first candidate."
Peter nodded in agreement.
"What about me?"
Earth-65 Gwen stepped forward, pulling her hood back. She looked up at Miguel, her expression eager. "What can I do to help?"
Miguel slowly turned his massive head. He looked the teenage drummer up and down. He analyzed her posture, her muscle density, and the complete lack of callouses on her knuckles.
"You will wait," Miguel said, his voice entirely devoid of sympathy. "And once the training facilities are constructed, you will report for mandatory combat conditioning."
Gwen bristled, crossing her arms defensively. "Excuse me?"
"Do not take it personally," Miguel replied coldly. "But objectively speaking, you are currently one of the weakest Spider-Totems I have ever encountered. Your combat ability is a liability. You require extensive training."
Gwen opened her mouth to argue, but she snapped it shut. Her pride was bruised, but she couldn't deny the truth. Just yesterday she had been violently humiliated by an elderly man with metal wings. She let out a heavy sigh, nodding in reluctant defeat.
They still had a massive war ahead of them. The Spider-Legion was already mobilizing across the dimensional grid. They had to move fast.
"Alright, the zoning permits are officially filed," Peter clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. "We should probably head home before the reality barrier degrades any further. We can use Reed Richards' portal network to jump back to my own earth."
Peter turned to the 616-variant of Gwen Stacy. She had been standing quietly near the back of the group, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her trench coat.
Peter narrowed his eyes, stepping into her personal space.
"Let me ask you a very question," Peter said, tilting his head. "You didn't happen to pocket any vials of the spider-isotope serum before we left Cindy Moon's lab, did you?"
616-Gwen blinked perfectly wide, innocent blue eyes. "No. Of course not."
"Gwen," Peter warned, his tone dropping. "That serum is exactly the kind of biological nightmare that Norman Osborn would kill to replicate. If that formula hits the black market, all of Manhattan could turn into Spider-Island overnight. It's a localized extinction event."
"I am a responsible adult," 616-Gwen insisted, placing a hand over her heart. "I absolutely did not take any stolen super-soldier juice."
Peter stared at her for five long seconds. He didn't believe her for a fraction of a heartbeat. But he didn't have the time or the x-ray vision to strip-search her.
"Fine," Peter sighed. He turned back to Earth-65 Gwen Stacy.
Earth-65 Gwen stood near the edge of the portal coordinates. She twisted the hem of her jacket. She was finally going home. She was finally going to face the music with Ben and May Parker.
"Peter," 65-Gwen asked, her voice dropping to a fragile whisper. "Do you honestly think... will they ever actually forgive me?"
Peter stepped forward. He didn't offer empty platitudes. He just placed a firm hand on her shoulder.
"They will accept it, Gwen," Peter said softly. "All of it."
It was the only honest truth he could give her.
Peter use the symbiote to make his spider mask over his face. He grabbed 616-Gwen by the sleeve and motioned for Dr. Connors to step forward. Peter tapped the temporal coordinates into his wrist console, syncing with Reed Richards' mainframe back in the Baxter Building.
The air tore open. A portal flared to life.
But it wasn't the jagged, blue, technological tear of Fantastic Four tech.
The portal burned with brilliant, fiery, golden sparks. The air instantly smelled of ancient incense and ozone.
Peter didn't have time to stop his forward momentum. He, 616-Gwen, and Dr. Connors stumbled through the golden ring.
The freezing wind of the wasteland vanished.
Peter landed awkwardly on an intricate, circular rug. He looked around. They weren't standing in the sterile, high-tech laboratory of the Baxter Building. The walls were lined with ancient tomes, mystical artifacts, and heavy velvet curtains. Sunlight streamed through a massive, circular window etched with a geometric seal.
They were standing in the middle of the Sanctum Sanctorum.