Location: Sanctum Cellarum (Earth-616's narrative basement)
Time Remaining Until Multiversal Collapse: 51:12:17
Previously…
Peter broadcast a message that shook the "Forget Peter" spell at its core.
People didn't remember his name—but they remembered hope.
The Web twitched in response.
But far beneath reality, something long-erased heard it too.
The Return of the Erased
It began with a pen stroke.
Not a literal one. Not ink on paper.
A meta-stroke—the narrative equivalent of lightning.
In the darkness of the Sanctum Cellarum, a shattered cocoon cracked open.
Out stepped… him.
Not Peter. Not really.
A forgotten variant.
The Unwritten Spider-Man.
His suit was raw code—glitching, unfinished, laced with developer notes and editorial comments.
His eyes burned with red static.
The void whispered through his thoughts: "You weren't supposed to survive."
He smiled.
"Then maybe I'll write my own ending."
He pulled the first thread he found.
And Earth-616 shivered.
The City Breaks Its Silence
Back above ground, the city was buzzing.
A spontaneous mural unveiling.
Kids wearing Spider-Man masks again.
An old woman told a reporter: "I don't remember his name. But I remember feeling safe."
Peter stood on a rooftop watching it all unfold.
Deadpool chewed a taco solemnly beside him.
"Looks like your 'soft reboot with pathos' stunt is working. People are starting to—uh-oh."
Miguel's scanner lit up. "Dimensional fracture. Deep layer. Sub-narrative structure's destabilizing."
Peter: "That means...?"
Billy bleated sharply.
Miguel nodded grimly. "A forgotten character is climbing back into canon."
Peter narrowed his eyes. "Any idea who?"
The sky flickered.
The Glitch Wave
Without warning, Times Square blinked off and on.
Advertisements froze mid-animation.
Pedestrians stumbled, caught in a half-second feedback loop.
A billboard flickered violently, replacing ads with one repeating phrase:
"DO YOU REMEMBER ME?"
And in the static…
A shape.
Spider-like.
Wrong.
Unwritten Peter phased into existence at the heart of the square.
No crowd noticed.
But every surveillance system shorted.
Every camera blacked out.
Every algorithm screamed in silence.
Deadpool looked up. "Well, that's nightmare fuel."
Miguel: "He's not just back—he's rebooting with memory. That's impossible."
Peter: "Not if he was written… and then abandoned."
Flashback: The Deleted Arc
Years ago—between comics no one finished and spin-offs no one bought—there was a story.
Peter had lost everything.
MJ. Aunt May. His powers.
But not by death—by choice.
The story was dark. Too raw.
The editorial team deleted the arc mid-run.
Erased it.
Except… that Peter felt it all.
And when the memory spell scrubbed Earth-616, it accidentally freed him.
Because you can't forget what was never allowed to be remembered.
And now—he wanted his story back.
Back at the Bugle
Jonah's basement bunker buzzed with interference.
Peter paced as static ran across the monitors.
Miguel typed frantically. "This version of you—he's not just a variant. He's a breach point. If he becomes canon again, he'll rewrite the emotional timeline of the multiverse."
Peter: "What's that mean in non-Spandex?"
Deadpool: "It means we get dark, gritty HBO miniseries energy—and none of us survive."
Billy bleated aggressively.
Miguel turned. "He's trying to open the Anchor Gate."
Peter blinked. "That's real?"
Deadpool: "I thought that was a joke in a Reddit thread."
Miguel: "It's the central lock. The gate that holds back every unwritten version of every hero. Every rejected draft. Every tragic rewrite."
Peter: "And if he opens it—"
Miguel: "The canon floods with everything we chose not to be."
Peter looked out the window.
Time to suit up.
Suit of Stories
Peter didn't wear his usual suit this time.
He reached into the core thread—the one from the Loom.
Wove it around himself.
The suit that formed was unlike anything before.
Glowing lines of continuity ran through it.
Narrative fibers traced every loss and every redemption.
It pulsed with remembering.
Deadpool gave a slow whistle. "Okay, that's fresh. Does it come in Deadpool red?"
Miguel: "It's woven from raw memory. Only he can wear it."
Billy tugged at the thread near Peter's arm and bleated a catchphrase.
Peter: "Time to remind the multiverse who not to mess with."
Showdown in the Archive Pit
The Unwritten was already there—beneath the New York Public Library.
Where old canon is buried.
Where unprinted issues are locked away.
He stood before the Anchor Gate—a swirling, endless vault marked with the original Amazing Fantasy #15 panel burned into its doors.
Peter arrived just in time.
Unwritten Peter turned.
"Look at you. The golden boy. You get all the redos. I got deleted."
Peter stepped forward.
"You think you're special because you suffered? We all did. That's the job."
Unwritten: "No. You got closure. I got forgotten."
Peter: "You think that makes you unique? I've died more times than I've had birthdays."
The Gate pulsed behind them.
Miguel and Deadpool appeared at the edge of the scene. Billy floated between dimensions, acting as backup.
Unwritten held out his hand.
"Join me. Let's rewrite everything. We'll never lose Aunt May. Gwen. Ben. No more Parker luck. Just control."
Peter looked at the threads in his hands.
Shaking.
But strong.
"No."
He fired the first shot.
Narrative Duel
They didn't fight with fists.
They fought with pages.
Panels warped around them.
Issue numbers bled into the sky.
Word bubbles turned to blades.
Every punch threw them through a different story—
Peter as a teacher.
As a father.
As the last Avenger.
As a criminal.
Each one weighed him down.
But each one made him stronger.
Unwritten screamed: "Why won't you break?"
Peter: "Because I already did. And I kept swinging anyway."
With one final surge, Peter wrapped the Unwritten in the fibers of the Core Thread.
Locked him inside a capsule of memory.
Unchangeable.
Undeniable.
Uncanonized.
The Anchor Gate shut.
And the city sighed.
Aftermath
Back at the rooftop, the sun rose.
People smiled again.
The mural now had eyes.
Familiar eyes.
No name.
But they knew.
Peter sat down.
Miguel checked his device. "Collapse delayed. For now. We bought time."
Deadpool handed Peter a chimichanga.
Billy bleated.
Peter: "Think we're done?"
Miguel: "With the Unwritten? Yes."
Deadpool: "But with the Web? With whatever is coming next?"
They all looked up.
The sky glitched again.
Just once.
Then—
Silence.