Marvel’s Shadowed Knight

"This place is trying way too hard to impress."

As someone who also had a storage room for his gear, Peter Parker couldn't help but comment with a bit of exasperation.

As the elevator slowly descended, the sheer scale and layout of the Spider-Cave left the others visibly surprised.

Miles, on the other hand, was ecstatic. This was exactly the kind of place he had dreamed of—somewhere secret, high-tech, and spacious enough to store all his gear.

"So, is your Batcave bigger than this?" Miles suddenly turned to Bruce and asked.

Unfortunately, Bruce had no intention of humoring him. He simply stood there in silence, resembling an immovable statue.

It was clear that Miles wouldn't be getting any useful answers from him.

"Hey, is your place like this too?" Realizing Bruce wouldn't respond, Miles quickly shifted his attention to Peter Parker.

"More or less," Peter shrugged. "Except, you know, no jeeps or planes."

As he spoke, the elevator finally reached the bottom of the Spider-Cave.

Behind them, a row of Spider suits lit up.

Peter continued comparing his own setup to this one.

"Picture this—same concept, just a smaller version... and with more mattresses. Kids these days, I swear..."

He was about to say more when his eyes landed on a framed photo placed on a table.

His words died in his throat.

With a sorrowful expression, Peter walked over and picked up the frame.

Inside the photo was his greatest love—Mary Jane.

As he stared at her radiant smile in the picture, Peter couldn't help but think about his own Mary Jane.

Meanwhile, Miles was eagerly inspecting the various Spider suits on display.

He glanced back at Peter, who had fallen silent.

Miles hesitated, unsure if this was the right time to call out to him. But then, he found the perfect counterpoint to something Peter had said earlier.

The Peter Parker of this universe had a Spider suit—with a cape.

"Hey, Peter! Look at this—it's got a cape!" Miles grinned, tugging at the fabric.

Peter cracked a small smile, remembering what he had told Miles before.

Miles let go of the cape and resumed looking at the suits.

But soon, he stopped in front of one in particular—the classic red-and-blue Spider suit.

It was something rare to see in this universe.

Gwen, noticing the interaction between the two, found herself intrigued.

After all, she had no idea what kind of history they shared.

But soon, something else caught her eye—a massive wall covered in pinned notes, photographs, and connections.

"Aunt May, does Peter know just how dangerous his mission is?" Gwen asked, her gaze fixed on the intricate web of information.

May nodded solemnly.

"He does. But he also knows that the only one who can stop Fisk… is Spider-Man."

There was a sadness in her voice.

The world was full of heroes, but most of them were preoccupied with threats far greater than Kingpin.

And Wilson Fisk? To the public, he was nothing more than a generous philanthropist.

He had even personally arranged Spider-Man's funeral.

Right now, besides Aunt May, there were only a handful of people who truly saw Fisk for what he was.

And those few were gathered here in the Spider-Cave.

"Kingpin knows we're coming for him, but we're outnumbered." Miles spoke with his hands in his pockets, his tone carrying a hint of disappointment.

For him, this was supposed to be his first real fight against crime as something resembling Spider-Man—yet the result had been nothing short of disastrous.

It was a tough pill to swallow.

"Outnumbered? Not necessarily." Aunt May smiled at Miles' words, then handed three name tags and pens to them.

"You might need these."

"Of course, he won't." Aunt May didn't prepare one for Bruce. As the only one who stood apart from the rest, she figured there was no need—people would recognize him easily enough.

Just as Gwen and the others were about to ask why, their Spider-Senses flared.

"Did you really think you were the only ones who would come here?"

As Aunt May spoke, Gwen and the others instinctively looked up toward the ceiling.

Amid the crisscrossing webbing above, a pair of red eyes slowly opened—followed by three more pairs.

"Hey there, fellas." Noir Spider-Man greeted them politely, tipping his hat.

Right beside him was Peni Parker, piloting her Spider mech, and the last one—Peter Porker, the Spider-Ham who had been bitten by a radioactive pig.

The sight left everyone stunned.

It was eerie. Almost unsettling.

Everyone except Bruce, of course. Ever since entering the Spider-Cave, he had been keeping a low profile.

Meanwhile, the Spider-People were sizing each other up, silently assessing one another.

Then, naturally, came the introductions.

Bruce didn't involve himself in their conversations. Instead, he quietly found the Spider-Cave's coffee station, brewing himself a cup—and making one for Aunt May as well.

"You're different from them, aren't you?" Aunt May asked, accepting the coffee and looking at him with a knowing expression.

Bruce didn't reply. He simply smirked ever so slightly.

Seeing that expression, Aunt May understood—she had been right.

After all, every person here was a Spider-Man in some form.

Bruce was the only one who had absolutely no connection to them.

Neither of them paid much attention to the lively discussions happening among the Spider-People.

They simply sipped their coffee, watching everything unfold.

But just as the group was debating who should shut down the collider, an unexpected shift interrupted their quiet moment.

Every single Spider-Person from another universe began glitching—warping and distorting in unnatural ways, as if multiple versions of themselves were overlapping.

The longer they stayed in this universe, the more their cells deteriorated.

The deeper the universe rejected them, the closer they came to death.

"Go, child." Aunt May took the coffee cup from Bruce's hand, remaining completely calm.

"I trust you'll help them."

Her unwavering trust in him caught Bruce slightly off guard.

Truthfully, Bruce had never placed his full trust in anyone before.

(End of Chapter)

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