Peter walked out of a store, following the path onto a bridge, limping all the way. He stopped by the pharmacy to get something for his wounds and pain.
He popped two pills, painkillers, in his mouth and continued his limping pace, a plastic of medication in hand. He wouldn't need it if he hadn't slipped on the staircase on his way down. His tumble was in no way gentle. Falling from the second floor and landing in a heap of metal trash hurt like a bitch. His luck really was rotten.
He was just going through the motions right now. He could catch the bus, but decided to just take the walk home to gather his thoughts.
Thoughts that just left him frustrated and angry.
Thoughts that he couldn't grasp, thoughts he had to come to terms with.
The only thing that kept coming back to him was just one simple question
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
He just couldn't think of anything.
He was twenty minutes from his house if he took the alley on the left.
Slowly, he limped his way across the bridge, failing to notice the five thugs in front of him. All drunk and high, cracking jokes and smoking with a can in hand. Their car was parked on the sidewalk.
"I ain't joking man, I grabbed her by the hair and just put her down and was like Ahh.... Ahhh yeah you like that," The one nearest to the railing of the bridge said.
"Hahaha... Well, daamn, dude, you serious?" another laughed out, asking.
"Yeah man, the bitch was totally into it, hehehe got her dits right here "
He replied as he held up his phone, only to drop it when Peter absentmindedly bumped into him.
"Yo, the fuck, man." The thug was quick to shove Peter into the road. His friends quickly gathered around him.
"Watch where you fucking going, aight." He stormed over to Peter, friends in tow.
Peter was already pissed, agitated, tired, hurt, defeated, frustrated, humiliated and downright infuriated, his mind a mess, his emotions an even bigger mess.
So his reaction wasn't hard to predict. The plastic in his hands with his medical supplies fell into the snow.
Can't even get a fucking break. Damn rotten luck...
The thug was about to grab Peter by the shirt, but Peter's fist met his face first. The thug flipped in the air and fell on his back without much resistance.
"What the hell?"
"Get him!"
"Fucking bitch!"
They rushed Peter.
He tried to defend himself but there was only so much he could do, tired and exhausted as he was. He got a few good hits in, leaving one with a nosebleed and another with a busted lip before he was beaten into the ground.
Punches, stomps, and kicks came from everywhere.
"Fuck you, fuck you, you fucking motherfucking bitch."
"You motherfucker that's for my nose. How do you like it! Huh!"
"Yeah, that's what you get!"
They continued to rain insults and attacks on him, and after a few minutes, they moved away. Peter was left bleeding and hardly recognizable, his face all messed up with blood everywhere, and his whole body was covered in pain. The first one broke the group up, he was their leader.
It's hurting AGain... Flashes once again bombarded his mind: images of broken bones, twisted arm, torn flesh, a white-gloved hand almost taking his chin off.
Poindexter smiling at him, his jaw broken. They were witnesses. The old lady—May, right?—she took the other three. Your uncle? Collateral. Yeah. I shot them. Both of them. Six rounds. Center mass, mostly…
"Aww, look the poor fuckers shaking, hahaha. Pick the fucker up, drag him over there," he ordered.
Tough old bird…
Two of the thugs, bleeding nose and busted lips, roughly grabbed each of his arms and dragged him to the railing of the bridge, harshly shoving him against it.
You thought you were smart. Thought you could play in the big leagues…
Peter's gun slipped out of his pocket and clattered onto the snow for the thugs to see.
"Ohoho, I see now, little bitch here had a wittle pea shooter in his pants and thought he THE MAN! Hahaha," the leader laughed, his groupies laughing with him as he bent down to pick the gun up.
"Is that what you thought? Huh?" he bent down slowly as he placed the gun on Peter's head and clicked off the safety.
But you're not strong enough. Not fast enough. Not nearly ruthless enough…
Peter just stared blankly, lost in his own mind. The pain numbed his senses, his ears ringing with an almost deafening pitch.
Why does this hurt so much? Why am I so weak? Why the hell is this happening to me?
"That yo ass could just do whatever the fuck you wanted to cause you had a gun," the leader chuckled.
"Naa man, shit don't work like that. Time for the Prowler to show you how the world really works." He was about to stand back up, but slipped on the wet pavement on the sidewalk.
Bang!
"wa-what the fuck, man!?!" shouted Nosebleed.
"shit fuck" one man ducked into the corner.
"Holy fuck! That shit's fucking loaded,"
"You didn't fucking check?" busted lip called from his huddled position in the back.
"Any of you got hit?" The leader replied.
"No"
"Damn, all good here."
"Almost got me, man."
"Then we good..." The leader was about to sigh when he noticed the blood quickly filling the snow around Peter, all flowing from his stomach.
"Yo, man, what the fuck?... You actually shot him," Busted nose said in a panicked tone, only to receive a punch to the face.
"Fuck…"
"Dude, we gotta go. Like right fucking now! Before the boys in blue show up."
"Shut the fuck up, all yo asses, it was an accident, aight." Their leader stated in a warning tone, moving the gun over each of them.
They all gulped and nodded.
"Aight man, we get it, les just get the fuck outta here."
IT HURTS. Why does it always come to this?
Peter felt a sharp pain in his stomach and saw thick blood on his hand when he tried to feel it, his vision went white.
No…
Stop it, IT HURTS. Am I gonna die here. Again? IT HURTS SO much. This fucking weakling shot me, they made me bleed, fuck this scum, fuck all of this to HELL…
As he slowly bled out, he didn't notice the shift in his thoughts from panic into an uncontrollable rage, nor how his lips gradually twisted into a bloodied smirk, his fist balling up, nor the excitement that overtook whatever he was feeling before.
Something clicked in his consciousness.
"Now help me pick him up—"
[Slot 1: Incarnation of Garou; State: Active]
Why does this feel so good right now?
The pain went away? No. Not away—changed. It felt good, like that searing heat of the wound he got was helping forceful pull the world back into focus.
His perception suddenly felt heightened.
Why did he find his current self so disgustingly weak? And why did he find all this funny?
A smile crept onto his features.
Is this it? Was this all he could amount to? To die to a bunch of street thugs?
Ain't that a comedy, or was it a tragedy? That's not funny… Then why is all this so damn funny?
"hehehahahhahaahHAHAHA" Peter interrupted with a low chuckle that blew into a twisted laugh, his face was twisted into a psychotic, predatory grin.
Why the hell can't I stop laughing?He felt himself utter the next few words before he could stop himself.
Why? He had no idea. How? He didn't care.
"Can't believe I lost to a bunch of pussies, you fucking losers,"
Peter's eyes had an odd glint as he stared at the piece of shit who shot him.
"What the fu—"
Crack! Bang!
Their leader didn't even have the time to finish, when Peter's fist once again met his face, only this time it took out a couple of teeth, broke his nose, shattered his jaw, and launched him into the lamppost on the opposite side of the road, a crack was heard as the post bent over from the new dent in it.
The next to go were nosebleeds and busted lips. He simultaneously backhanded one off the bridge and grabbed the other by the face, lifting him up before slamming him into the hood of the car, leaving another sizable dent.
Peter looked at the remaining two, one of them now visibly pissing his pants. Both their eyes were wide with fear.
Seconds, it took seconds to utterly destroy them.
[Slot 1: Incarnation of Garou;
State: Passive]
Peter came back to his senses after mercilessly beating the last thug within an inch of his life. His hands were bleeding, but the blood was no longer his own.
He took panting breaths and held his hands over his bullet wound, adding pressure to stop the bleeding.
He looked at the sorry state of the thug beneath him but held no sympathy for him.
One less piece of shit to walk the streets... His thoughts echoed.
Peter looked down at his hands blood stained hands in quite fascination. An urge he could not name burned in him and he brought the back of his palm to his mouth in a daze and licked the blood.
The taste of copper in in his mouth was oddly sweet for a moment until he came to his senses and spit the contents out.
"Disgusting," Peter muttered under his breath.
[Host has willingly consumed blood of another]
[Slot 4: Kagune- Blood Catalyst- Condition Met (Awaiting Evolution)]
He slowly limped over to pick up the gun, putting it into the plastic when he picked that up, too.
Can't go to the hospital, don't know how many irregularities are left in my blood from the serum...
Almost home...
Peter limped down the street, slowly leaning against anything he could for support.
Wait, the serum, maybe I could use that, yes, that'll work if I can, I can just go... go home.
Peter's panting got weaker as he trudged the quiet streets.
Peter tripped over his own foot.
Crash!
He crashed into his porch, shakily reaching for the opening of the door, he didn't lock it tonight, he didn't see the reason to.
He fell into the door as it swung open, getting blood all over the floor.
It took him a lot of effort to make it up the stairs and into his room, only for him to fall again.
Come on, Pete... just a little more.. almost there... just a little more... almost there, Pete.
He dragged himself with every ounce of strength he had left, his blood pooling on the floor. He made it to the desk and reached for the drawer.
That's it... almost there... Yes... The syringe... Drawer... Got it....
He grabbed the serum and pushed himself against the desk, his legs sprawled out lazily in front of him. He moved the serum up to his wrist.
"..."
"Hahaha, fuck," Peter let out a tired, almost pitiful laugh, accepting his fate with little effort.
His hands were shaking no matter how hard he tried to force himself he couldn't bring himself to do the deed. The serum slipped from his hands and rolled away. He could shoot himself up with serum.
He was left there in a pool of his own blood, his head down, eyes blank, his thoughts empty
Just waiting to die.
The sound of steady footsteps caused him to look up.
His eyes widened as they came to a stop in front of him.
"Uncle Ben..." he whispered, whizzing in pain.
In front of him was his uncle, dressed in the same get-up he always wore, looking down on him.
Cough!
Blood spilled out of his lips, Peter wiped it away without breaking eye contact.
"What? Huh…the hell are you looking... at, huh?" Peter couldn't stand those eyes staring at him. Not like that.
Please...
Uncle Ben's gaze hurt Peter more than the pain he was feeling. Something in him broke at that moment.
Stop it...
"Don't give that look... you have no right to judge me... what did you expect me to do... I went to the cops... fuck ton of help they were..." Peter tiredly drawled in front of the spirit of his dead uncle.
He coughed, drawing in a haggard breath.
More blood spilled from his lips.
"Damn it STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT... The fuck did you expect me to do huh... if you're so disappointed in me then why didn't you stop me huh!...that's right you can't... you know why cause your fucking died... And they-their responsible for it..." His voice getting louder, firmer, stronger the more he talked, something slowly taking root in the dying teen.
"So you know what... FUCK YOU AND YOUR DAMN LOOK... You're dead... and Aunt May... Aunty May.. sniff... yeah.. that's right Fuck you...huff...you can't stop me even if you were alive.. not anymore... so just stand there and watch me...huff… Watch me drag this asshole into the light... How far would I go if...huff... if I couldn't fail, huh..."
Peter chuckled.
"Just stand there in whatever heaven you are in and watch me fly... This time next year I'll be the... the strongest thing around...hehah.. cough… ahaha... you can judge me when we meet again... haahhaha... I doubt it'd be anytime soon... I have this feeling... Death itself seems to on my side for some fucked up reason...You see .. so... just... huff.. watch ... me... cough... cough... amma take them all... out ... in ... one.....shot...."
Peter's last words left his body with a deep exhale of his last breath. Aunt May... When... When did I see her last? Oh shit...
It's been weeks...
He's dying trying to avenge Aunt may... but he hasn't visited her at all.
What the hell have I been doing?
Peter's thoughts gradually faded into an empty stillness.
***
Uncle Ben's spirit bent down and distorted into an image of Aunt May and the distorted once more before settling into an image of a woman in a purple and yellow hooded cloak.
An elegant purple shoulder pad on each shoulder, bright glowing yellow eyes focused on Peter's form, with long dark silky black hair, pale features, and plump natural purple lips. She had an ethereal beauty not suited for a mortal woman.
"Usually, people try their best to stay away from me. They struggle, fight, bargain, doing everything in their power to at least avoid the slightest possibility of me," she said in a melodious voice.
"But you just couldn't help yourself away, could you?" She slowly reached up and held his cheek in the palm of her hand.
"I don't blame you, what I have is to die for," she joked.
Black particles formed around Peter. His blood slowly evaporated into black particles until there was nothing left.
His wounds healed up at an extreme rate as the bullet in his stomach was forced out.
"How strange, your soul is still mine, yet it is eternally bound to your body. You're quite a flirt, aren't you, waltzing carelessly into my domain as if it were your own... Hahaha." The woman giggled as she continued to stare at Peter as if he were the interesting thing in the world. "Who would have thought?"
"Only to return to your body, taking a minuscule piece of me with you, leaving a piece of your mortality with me, such a thief you are." Slowly, she held his other cheek with her other arm.
She moved closer, kneeling next to the teen, taking his head, then gently placing it on her lap.
"I don't mind, though, this has been some of the most interesting moments in my existence. Entertain me some more, won't you, my little thief." She moved her closed lips just inches from his.
"It seems we are fated to each other. I will be the last to remain after all life ends, and you will be that last soul waiting to greet me at the end of this universe. Your nature and mine complement each other in ways I never thought possible."
Death understood now his nature and hers. Behind her, the entity that once kept her at bay hugged her tightly, its hands now only two wrapping around her waist. Its eyes closed, with its head leaning on her back. Almost as if to welcome a part of it, it missed dearly.
Death paid no mind to it, relishing in the comfort of its hug.
They were both the same thing, two parts of the same whole.
"While others live to perish, you perish to live, quiet ironic." She gave him a soft peck on the lips.
[Slot 3: Conditions Met]
[Ajin: Awakened (Awaiting evolution)
State: Passive]
"Show me how far you can fly, Peter. After all, we have an eternity together heheehahahaha." She giggled once more then both entities faded into black mist.
[Integration 55%]
[Commencing Evolution]
...
[All conditions met- Evolution Complete]
[Host Detail
Name: Peter Benjamin Parker
Species: Tri-brid; Human Mutate (Homo Supreme—Demi-Human), Anomalous Human, Abstract Entity;
Verse: Marvel;
Universe: Unspecified (Admin Accord Restriction);
Variant: Unspecified (Admin Accord Restriction)]
[Integration_55%]
[Fragment Slot Compatibility 5]
[Slot 6-? Sealed]
[Linked Fragments
Slot One: The Incarnation of Garou
State: Passive
Ability Granted to Host: Endless Adaptive Combat Physique
Passive State
The host can instantly learn and copy any hand-to-hand or martial arts style he sees. He fights using Garou's skill level, limited only by his own body.
The more he fights, the sharper his instincts become. Taking damage causes his body to adapt and grow stronger during combat. There is no known upper limit to this growth.
Active State
During extreme physical stress or overwhelming fear, Garou's personality may surface and begin to influence or temporarily take control of the host. Skill and strength will also increase drastically.
]
[Slot Two: The Will of Saitama
State: Passive
Abilities granted to Host: Limit Break
Activation Requirement:
The host is compelled to complete Saitama's training regimen for a fixed number of years to achieve full activation.
Passive State
As the host grows stronger, his connection to humanity gradually weakens. Physical attributes—including strength, speed, stamina, and endurance—increase without a known upper limit.
The host gains Perfect Strength Adjustment, allowing him to automatically scale his power to match an opponent. Emotional responses are significantly dampened as power increases.
The host is compelled to complete Saitama's training regimen for a fixed number of years to achieve full activation.
Active State
The host gains a supernatural surge in strength that exceeds his physical limits, drawing power similar to Saitama's post-training state. This power manifests inconsistently, offering immense force but with limited conscious control.
Condition Met: Two slots filled by variants from the same world
Bonus Slot active
Side effect gained: The Cruelty of Mercy
Due to the combined influence of Garou, Saitama, and the host's core morality, Peter Parker is incapable of causing fatal harm to anyone he perceives as innocent and is unable to kill human opponents. He may, however, incapacitate them with extreme force, stopping just short of death and ensuring their survival. Any entity he does not recognize as human is exempt from this restriction and may be killed without limitation.]
[Slot 3: The Thief Who Stole His Fate
Ability Granted to Host: Ajin(Demi-human: Thief of Fate)
True Immortality Through Death
The host has stolen his fate from death itself, rendering him a true immortal. He is now unable to die as the concept of death no longer applies to him as he stole the aspect of death that is directly responsible for his fate.
Death of Destiny
Peter Parker of Earth 65B is independent of the influence of any and all cosmic entity or other being with regards to his fate and destiny within the confines of any universe. He is his own death and his own fate.
Active:
Ajin Bandages
Grants the host usage of its bandages which are stronger and more durable than most materials on earth with no limit to how long they can go. Given the nature of the entity, it's invisible to most as are its bandages how ever should Peter choose they can become visible. In order to see the entity one must have experienced death in the past
Miasma Aura
The host can release an aura of death invoking the feeling of death from those who experience it from his presence and conceal it. Only those who have experienced death can observe the miasma he exudes.
Death's Shadow: False Ajin
The host can temporarily summon past versions of himself in the place of his Ajin after his death although they are significantly weaker than him and remain summoned for a limited amount of time.
True Ajin
The death of Peter Parker given form; his fate and destiny personified; an aspect of death that is the destiny of Peter Parker of 65B which was stolen from death itself and bound to Peter's existence. It takes an ever-changing physical form that resembles Death's human form and ties the host Peter Parker to the entity cosmic abstract entity Death.]
[Further knowledge regarding True Ajin and Death has been sealed by Death. Other traits and abilities have also been sealed by the Entity Death.]
[Slot 4: Kagune-Altered
Ability Granted to Host: The Ghoul of Blood and Sin
The host's Kagune can function as a secondary heart and as the containment organ for the Original Sin strain, converting the host's blood into RC cells and enabling the host to crystallize and weaponize his blood. The host's skin is also impenetrable to most metals and physical objects.
Active state
This allows the host to weaponize his blood to produce various effects and to utilize his Kagune. Four appendages protrude from the base of his spine, which he can wield as weapons and manipulate at will, hardening and crystallizing them to form projectiles as well.
The appendages a prone to adaption and evolution as the host acquires more traits through his Tertiary Trait: Blood Catalyst.
Trait Gained
Primary Trait: Original Sin
The host is the bearer of the Original Sin shard/strain, from which he can produce smaller derivative shards/strains (branches of Sin) that can be used to infect others, granting them the ability to crystallize and weaponize their own blood.
Each ability granted through the shard is unique, and the shard functions as an evolving vector, enabling the Sin Shard host to develop their own distinct abilities over time.
Secondary Trait: Branch of Sin
Those infected by the host can weaponize their blood, crystallizing and hardening it to produce various effects that depend on the individual, alongside cellular regeneration and an enhanced physical body and over time they develop innate personality traits that embody their specific branch of Sin.
Branch of Sin Mania trait: Branches of Sin exhibit a mania-like loyalty to the bearer of the Original Sin,
Tertiary Trait: Blood Catalyst
Upon consuming blood with unique properties from other beings, the host's body accommodates those properties by awakening and acquiring traits as it adapts to the consumed blood.]
[Slot 6 compatibility reached]
[Link Forged]
[Slot 6: Imagine Breaker(Altered State)
Passive State
The host gains the ability to negate phenomena perceived as supernatural by the average human. This effect is limited to the host's arms and anything they physically touch, with effectiveness varying based on the target's nature and current state.
A passive negation field extends roughly thirty centimeters from the host's body, applying the same effect. However, this field only functions against abilities below a certain power threshold and with compatible properties.
The ability is sustained by humanity's collective unconscious desire to return to a world where everything is normal.
Active State
The host can project a reality-normalization zone that nullifies all supernatural phenomena within its radius, restoring everything to a baseline "normal" state. The size of the zone fluctuates based on the host's intent and desire.
This active state can only be maintained as long as the host's mental fortitude withstands the weight of humanity's collective subconscious desire for normalcy, which continuously pressures and influences the host's mind and being.]
[Evolution_Complete]
[Slot 7-? Dormant]
[Integration_56%]
Chapter End