Spider Verse Destiny

Peter Parker had always thought he was the only Spider-Man.

He had always thought his story was his story alone. One radioactive spider. One bite. One boy in Queens, one Uncle Ben, one secret identity, one red-and-blue mask.

He was wrong.

There were OTHERS.

Across the multiverse — across every parallel reality, every alternate Earth, every different version of history — there were dozens, and hundreds, and even thousands of Spider-Heroes. In every universe where a spider had been struck by lightning, or radiation, or a strange enchantment, someone had been bitten. Someone had been changed. Someone had heard, in their own life, the same lesson Peter had heard from his Uncle Ben.

"With great power comes great responsibility."

This vast network of realities, all woven together by spider-heroes, came to be called the Spider-Verse.

Peter discovered it the hard way. A group of terrible interdimensional hunters called the Inheritors had begun moving from reality to reality, hunting Spider-Heroes. They were ancient. They were cruel. They believed Spider-Totems — beings touched by the magic of the spider — were prey to be collected.

Across the multiverse, Spider-Heroes felt a shiver. Something was coming for them.

They began to be PULLED, one by one, into a great gathering. Portals opened in their bedrooms. In their workshops. In the middle of the city. They stepped through.

And in a strange place between worlds, Peter Parker found himself standing in a great hall full of OTHER Spider-People.

He stared. They stared.

Then, one by one, they began introducing themselves.

There was a young Spider-Man with brown skin and a black-and-red suit, full of jokes and nervous energy and bright spray-painted style. His name was Miles Morales. He came from a world called the Ultimate Universe, and in his world, he was already a great hero in his own right.

There was a Spider-Woman with a sleek white-and-pink hood and ballet shoes. Her name was Gwen Stacy, and in her universe, she had been the one bitten by the spider, while her Peter had been a different kind of hero. She was clever and watchful and quietly amazing.

There was Spider-Man Noir, from a world stuck in the 1930s, who wore a long dark trench coat and a fedora and spoke in old-fashioned detective phrases.

There was Peni Parker, from a far-future Japan, who piloted a giant mechanical spider robot named SP//dr alongside an actual telepathic spider that was her partner.

There was Spider-Ham, who was a literal cartoon pig with super-powers, and who could pull comedy props from thin air. (Peter blinked at him for a long time. Spider-Ham just waved his trotter cheerfully.)

There were old Spider-Men and young Spider-Men. There were Spider-Men from grim futures and bright pasts. There were Spider-Heroes who looked nothing like Peter and Spider-Heroes who looked almost exactly like him.

And every single one of them, when their stories were told, had faced something hard. Every one of them had lost someone. Every one of them had learned the same lesson Peter had learned.

The spider, it turned out, was a destiny. And the destiny was kindness.

The Spider-Heroes formed an army. They had to. The Inheritors were powerful, and they had to be stopped not just for one reality, but for all of them. Peter — the original Peter Parker — was looked to as a leader. At first, he was uncomfortable. He was not used to leading. He preferred just swinging around Queens and helping with the dishes at Aunt May's.

But Miles needed mentoring. Gwen needed a steady voice. Peni needed someone to remind her she was not alone. Spider-Ham needed somebody to laugh at his jokes.

Peter rose to the moment.

He learned a strange and wonderful truth. He had something the others needed — experience, heart, the steady patience of a man who had been doing this work for a long time. And the others had things he needed too. Miles brought fresh energy. Gwen brought a perspective he had never considered. Each one of them strengthened the others.

Together they planned. Together they trained. Together they fought.

The battle against the Inheritors took them to strange and dangerous worlds. They fought in cities that did not exist on any map Peter knew. They flew through skies of impossible colors. They watched each other's backs across reality itself.

And in the end — with Peter's scientific brilliance, with Miles's bravery, with Gwen's strategy, with every Spider-Hero playing a part — they won. The Inheritors were stopped. The Spider-Totems were safe.

The Spider-Heroes returned to their own worlds. But they were not strangers anymore. The Spider-Verse had become a true community. They could call on each other. They could open portals when they needed to. They could send help across realities.

For Peter, the Spider-Verse changed everything.

He had spent so much of his life feeling alone. Just him in the mask. Just him swinging across the lonely rooftops of New York. Just him bearing the weight of Uncle Ben's lesson.

Now he knew. He had never been alone, not really. There had always been other spiders out there, in other places, learning the same things, choosing the same path, carrying the same web.

He keeps in touch. Sometimes Miles drops by from his universe to swing through Queens. Sometimes Gwen calls Peter for advice. Sometimes Peni sends pictures of SP//dr to Aunt May, who tapes them to the refrigerator.

The Spider-Verse is vast. The story is far from over. New Spider-Heroes are being created somewhere, in some reality, even right now.

Anyone, it turns out, can wear the mask.

Even, perhaps, you.