Location: Earth-000 (The Backstage)
Time: Non-linear
Status: Act II escalation
The Backstage was not a place.
It was a concept.
A realm between panels. A pocket where discarded drafts, abandoned plotlines, and characters no longer canon wandered in half-existence.
And right now, Peter Parker stood in the middle of it.
Trying not to vomit.
Because the floor was made of monologue. Literally. Sentences, crawling like vines. And the sky was just… deadlines.
Deadpool spun in place, grinning. "Welcome to Story Purgatory, Spidey. It's like Limbo, but with more exposition."
Peter blinked. "Why are we here?"
"Because after what we did to the Weaver," Wade said, pulling out a banana that whispered ominous foreshadowing, "he's drafting backup."
Peter tensed. "Like what?"
The ground answered.
It split open, revealing a stairway made of rejected origin stories. And from below — they came.
The Unwritten.
Characters who never made it past their elevator pitch.
"Arachnid Queen": A version of MJ who got bit instead. Carries venomous sass.
"Spider-Punk Noir": Combines jazz, anarchy, and two trench coats.
"Captain Spider": What if Steve Rogers got the spider bite and never stopped throwing shields?
"The Spidered Man": A surrealist concept from Earth-Δ, made entirely of poetry and silk.
Peter stepped back.
"These aren't Variants. They're concepts."
"Exactly," Deadpool said. "The multiverse just opened its junk drawer and said, 'Have fun.'"
From behind them came a slow, deliberate clap.
A new figure emerged — tall, sharp-suited, and glitching like a corrupt file.
His name: The Editor.
"We need to talk, Parker."
Peter didn't move.
The Editor circled him, dragging a redline pen across the fabric of reality. Every stroke left void behind.
"You're creating friction. Threads binding timelines are catching on your choices. The Weaver wanted to reset. You resisted. That makes you a narrative liability."
Peter clenched his fists. "I'm not a story. I'm a person."
"No. You're a symbol. A placeholder for responsibility, grief, redemption. But your arc is looping. Broken."
Deadpool cut in. "Whoa. Big talk for a guy who edits by brute force."
The Editor snapped his fingers.
The Unwritten attacked.
Combat: Unreal. Chaotic. Cinematic.
Peter dodged Arachnid Queen's whip-laced webs, flipping through collapsing scenery made of scrap origin panels. She was faster than him — not out of skill, but out of design. She was a power fantasy he'd never been allowed to be.
Spider-Punk Noir caught Deadpool in a jazz-solo monologue, locking him in place.
Billy kicked a coffee mug at Captain Spider's face, which did surprisingly well.
Peter found himself staring down The Spidered Man — a blank face reciting free verse:
"I am not man. I am motif.
I am the pause between panels.
I am what you refuse to forget."
Peter webbed his mouth shut.
It started to unravel anyway.
Peter took a breath. Then another.
He remembered Miguel's words. That he wasn't just part of the canon — he was its anchor.
He jumped into the fray — not to win, but to remind.
He called out to the Unwritten:
"You're not unfinished! You're just waiting to be told!"
Arachnid Queen hesitated.
Captain Spider dropped his shield.
Peter landed between them. "The Weaver wants to use you. But you deserve better than being weapons."
Deadpool whispered, "Did you just emotionally validate rejected prototypes?"
Peter grinned. "It's a skill."
The Editor growled. "No. You don't get to rewrite them. That's my job."
Peter threw a webline — not at the Editor, but at the ceiling.
It tore open.
Light spilled through — not just light, but readership.
Voices. Attention. Memory.
Peter shouted into it.
"If anyone's listening — if this story matters — then remember this: we are more than what's edited. More than what's cut."
The Editor screamed.
He began to glitch.
Because for a moment, across a thousand timelines, Peter Parker was real again.
The Backstage quaked.
The Unwritten stood with Peter now.
Billy headbutted the Editor into a flashback sequence, which exploded.
Deadpool struck a pose. "Okay. That was hot."
Aftermath.
The Backstage shimmered, beginning to collapse.
Peter helped the Unwritten climb through a new portal — one leading to a place that hadn't existed until now:
Earth-Sketch — a realm where stories go to begin again.
They waved as they left.
Even The Spidered Man gave Peter a bow… followed by a sonnet.
Peter turned to Deadpool.
"Think that's it?"
Deadpool shook his head. "Nah. That was just the teaser. The real antagonist hasn't even shown up yet."
Peter looked confused.
"Then who's next?"
Deadpool tapped Peter's forehead.
"You."