Peter Parker.
A name that every Marvel fan knows. A name that is dragged through the mud by every single comic author out there for the sake of 'character development'.
The Spider-Man. The greatest hero of the Marvel Multiverse. The friendly neighborhood hero who bore countless burdens yet received nothing in return for it. Except for trauma. That he received in metric tons.
He was my favourite character. Not because he is powerful, because let's face it, despite his superhuman feats, there are characters that are so OP that it is not ever funny.
No, the reason he was my favourite is because of his courage. The courage to keep getting up when it felt like reality itself had it out for him.
Every life-threatening injury, every loss, every condemnation, every single bad thing that ever happened to him. He always gets up no matter what.
That courage, that will, something that I know I will never have. That is why I admired him. Why I loved him so much as a character.
But I never wanted to be in his place.
Let's face it. I don't think there is anyone out there who looks at Spider-Man's life and says they could handle it if they were in the same shoes.
I know for a fact that I would go batshit insane if even a fraction of what happened to him happened to me.
Well, even more than I already am. But that is a different matter altogether.
Now, why am I bringing all of this up to some imaginary audience in my head? Quite simple, actually.
Looking in the mirror, I saw an appearance that I knew could not have belonged to my original body.
...Well, the argument can be made that I don't exactly remember what my original body looked like, given that it has been a literal lifetime and then a few eons on top of that since then, but still, my gut tells me that this is not my original appearance, so I'll run with it for now.
I mean, I am pretty sure I was not Andrew Garfield in my previous life. You know, the actor who played Spider-Man in that Sony movie that Sony screwed up, just like it did with Morbius and left him high and dry? That one.
Normally, it should be a pretty good thing to be born into the body of a rich actor after spending countless eons in a void fighting against an eldritch entity's corruption, losing my sanity over and over again, right?
Unfortunately, there are two problems with that assumption.
Numero Uno. The memories in my head say that my current name is Peter Parker. A teenager (oh god! The horror) living with his aunt, May Parker, and uncle, Ben Parker, in Queens, New York.
Yeah, that little bit of information is enough to tell me exactly who I am and where I am at the moment.
Numero Dos. The floating screen in front of me and the damned gun hiding within my body.
[Name: Peter Parker]
[Service Weapon: Unbound]
[Astral Plane: Unavailable (Service Weapon not bound)]
[Instance Dungeon: Unavailable (Service Weapon not bound)]
Yup. I have a system. And not just any system either. It is the most shittiest system I have ever seen. Which is not much, given that i have only ever read about them in novels and such, but still.
Now, the problem here is that this system is not some OP bullshit that will help me become a top-class existence in a short period of time.
From what I can tell, it only has two functions.
The main function is to allow me access to something called the Instance Dungeon. I will not bore my imaginary audience with technicalities and details, so here is the short explanation.
I go in, kill a bunch of shit, get the loot, and get out.
This is where the second function comes into use.
The Astral Plane.
Now this, I know very well. Not because this was from a game in my first life, but because I have firsthand experience with it and all the shit that comes with it.
——————————————————————————-
The damnable charming smile that assured me that everything would be alright.
Those few days that we spent together in the Oldest House, clearing the Hiss and finding clues about the history of the FBC and her brother, Dylan.
That desperation of hers to reunite with her only family, something that I could never bring myself to refute, despite knowing how things would go.
Those last moments where we knew what had to be done after a third entity was detected within Slidescape-36.
That moment where I saw the despair on her face as I pushed her away at the last moment, taking her place in the Slidescape, making sure that it would be I who would have to hold back the third entity long enough for Jesse to shut down the projector from her end.
——————————————————————————-
I shook my head to get rid of those old memories, something that I have long since come to terms with.
Control. The SCP copy that was far more interesting than said inspiration.
In my original world, it was a very popular game that I played a lot, including its DLCs.
So, it was quite a surprise when I woke up in that universe as a Field Agent of the FBC after dying in my first one.
The only good thing that ever came out of that shitty second life of mine was meeting people I could truly call my friends, like Dr. Darling, Pope, and a few others.
Including Jesse.
'I wonder how things would have gone if that damned third entity had not flipped the script on us like that.'
'Damnit! Now that I think of it, I failed to see how Jesse would look in that Director Outfit I remember from the game!'
Anyway, back to the topic.
In the Instance Dungeon, if I get an Object of Power, or OOP for short, as loot or reward, I can use the Astral Plane to absorb it into my soul and gain those powers.
Which is saying something since Jesse was only able to do what she did because she got a bunch of powers from many powerful OOPs that she bound herself with.
That, and the fact that she had Polaris. But that is a whole other can of worms, so I'll let it be for now.
However, to do any of this, I will need to bind myself with the Service Weapon, which is a whole other problem on its own.
'You really screwed me over, System. I should not have taken that deal when you came to me in that void.'
'Granted, I might have ended up spending countless eons more while stuck in that void battling the Hiss trying to invade my mind, but that would still have been better than this!'
With a sigh, I got up from my bed and pulled on the connection I could feel within me.
Instantly, a black handgun manifested in my hand.
The Service Weapon. OOP-1. The very first Object of Power that the FBC ever stumbled into.
A weapon that supposedly took on many forms throughout human history in its home universe, always shaping itself into becoming a weapon that was considered most appropriate for the time period.
Like becoming a sword during the 5th or 6th Century, supposedly becoming renowned as Excalibur, the legendary sword of King Arthur. Or becoming a hammer that came to be known as Mjolnir, or even becoming Varunastra, the mythical weapon of the Hindu Myths.
What I know about this thing is that this is basically a slave collar that binds the Director of the FBC, the Federal Bureau of Control, to The Board. A group of entities that reside in the Astral Plane.
That is how Jesse described it to me. That the Board always tried to make her do things through the Hotline OOP.
The keyword being 'tried'. Jesse is far too stubborn and is a damend spitfire who refuses to be controlled by anyone. It might also be because she had Polaris to keep her from going rogue or getting corrupted like the directors before her did, but I still think it has more to do with her personality.
That being said, the very fact that I have the Service Weapon with me raises dangerous questions.
Just how long was I left in that void? Long enough for Jesse to pass on through old age or through other causes? Long enough for the Service Weapon to leave the Oldest House and for this system to somehow snatch it up?
And what happened to the Board? Are they waiting for me in the Astral Plane?
It does seem likely, given that the space I was stuck in had no concept of time, with nothing but uniform geological formations and the five towering pillars. The dimension that Polaris, and probably Hiss, called home with a third entity that intruded into that place to the end.
The same entity that ended up being consumed by the Hiss.
I still don't know how I was able to resist an amped up Hiss from taking over my mind for uncountable stretches of time while stranded in there, even if I did pay the price for it with my sanity and the majority of my memories from my lives.
With a sigh, I let go of my connection, making the gun fade into kaleidoscopic energies and return into my body(or maybe my soul?). Just in time for Aunt May's call from downstairs.
"Peter! Come down quickly! You will be late for school!"
"Coming!"
I got up from the bed and started preparing for the day.
I guess I'll figure something out regarding the Service Weapon. But for now, I need to get myself familiar with this new life I got after being baited by this damed System. Especially since my memory of my first life is foggy at best, and I only remember the broad strokes of the world I am in right now.
That, and try not to become Spider-Man.
Because that life of suffering is not for me.
Nope. Whoever wants to be Spider-Man (or woman) can go ahead and do so and become the cosmic punching bag of this universe because I ain't about that life of suffering with nothing to gain from it but abuse and insults from a baldy sitting behind a desk from some stupid newspaper.
Also, I got an actual family here! There ain't no way I am going to take up some heroic mission to protect this city or whatever when I can spend the same time with these truly loving and kind people that I call my Uncle and Aunt.
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