The slums of New York's underdistrict were a neon-lit underworld, a chaotic kingdom for Peter Parker, now Mad Spider, in the dystopian sprawl of Earth-731, 2030. He ruled from a fortified warehouse, his blood-red costume a symbol of fear, his spider-powers—strength, agility, regeneration—making him untouchable. The pain from Oscorp's electroshock torture burned, a pulse fueling his Joker-like madness. He laughed, perched on a crate throne, his Deadpool-like humor sharp as he addressed his followers—outcasts, hackers, fighters. "Welcome to the bad guy club!" he quipped, his grin wild. Gwen Stacy stood beside him, her blue eyes fierce, her love a quiet anchor. "We're not villains," she whispered, her tablet dark, its battery dead. But the city's screens branded Peter a monster, his killing of Norman a legend.
Flashback: At 12, Peter drew Gwen a cartoon spider, her laughter filling a classroom. "You're gonna be big," she said, her smile pure. That innocence was gone, buried under Oscorp's cruelty, but her love endured, binding them in chaos.
Peter's rule was absolute. The underworld bowed to Mad Spider, his charisma and violence forging loyalty. He raided Oscorp's remnants, seizing tech and funds, his regeneration healing wounds instantly. But his pain flared, his madness growing—his orders grew cruel, his laughter cold. Gwen's ritual was their crutch, an obsessive act where her touch soothed his nerves, their intimacy a shield. "You're still you," she whispered, her hands steady. Peter's eyes were raw. "Am I? Or am I their punchline?" Flashback: At 19, Peter's mind cracked under shocks, his laughter a defiance. Gwen, risking exposure, slipped him a note: "I'll save you."
The heroes—Daredevil, Iron Man, Black Panther—closed in, their pursuit relentless. Razor, now Peter's lieutenant, reported sightings. "They're coming," he said, his burned arm scarred. Peter's grin was sharp. "Let 'em. I'm ready for a rematch." But Gwen worried—Peter's villainy alienated allies, his darkness consuming him. She rallied the underworld, her tech skills repairing comms, her resolve inspiring hope. "We fight for freedom," she told them, her voice firm. Peter watched, torn between pride and fear, his madness whispering destruction.
A mysterious portal flickered in the warehouse, its blue glow unnatural. Peter's spider-senses buzzed, his pain surging. "What's this, a sci-fi rerun?" he quipped, webbing closer. Gwen's eyes widened, sensing a shift. The underworld tensed, their loyalty wavering. Peter's violence flared—he crushed a dissenter's arm, his laughter chilling. Gwen's touch stopped him, their ritual a desperate anchor. "We're enough," she vowed, her love unshakable.
As they investigated the portal, a figure emerged—Spider-Man 2099, his suit sleek, his voice grim. "Peter Parker, you're a canon event," he said, his eyes scanning Gwen. "A villain born to break your world." Peter laughed, wild. "Sounds like my kind of gig!" But Gwen's hand tightened, her fear palpable. The portal hummed, a gateway to chaos.
Cliffhanger: Mad Spider faces Spider-Man 2099, the portal glowing. "Time to rewrite the script," Peter laughs, his madness surging, as Gwen steps closer, ready to follow.