The exact millisecond the syllables cleared his lips, a blinding, torrential cascade of violet plasma violently ignited across Peter's fingertips.
Immediately following the flash, his silhouette eerily dissolved into nonexistence.
No, it wasn't a conceptual teleportation sequence—it was simply physical velocity accelerated to its absolute mathematical peak!
The spectators on the ground merely felt the visual field before them blur for a fraction of a second.
In the next heartbeat, Peter, who had been levitating in the upper atmosphere, materialized with absolute, flush precision directly before Captain America and Thor.
Without granting the God of Thunder a single millisecond to reorient his defensive tracking, Peter thrust his hand forward.
At this precise chronological coordinate, his extended fingertips functioned as a nigh-impregnable, hyper-dense blade of pure kinetic force.
The strike effortlessly tore through the remaining fragments of Thor's divine armor, driving completely through the majestic, dense muscular tissue of his legendary physique.
Hell Stab: One-Finger Spear!
Time itself across the ruined plaza seemed to systematically drop into a slow-motion playback mode.
The chaotic fury and terminal defiance etched across Thor's swollen features instantly froze into absolute stasis.
The blood-red hue suffocating his pupils slowly receded, replaced by a vacant, glazed expression as his eyes began to lose focus.
He slowly tilted his head downward, staring with absolute, unadulterated disbelief at the armored forearm completely protruding through the center of his chest cavity.
His jaw twitched, attempting to format a final, defiant roar, but the mechanical movement merely triggered a massive surge of visceral crimson to spill from his lips, leaving him entirely incapable of articulating a single sound.
Having already operated on a severely depleted fuel tank, this single, near-fatal puncture completely shattered his residual biological endurance. He possessed absolutely no metrics left to mount a counter-offensive.
PULL—!
As Peter fluidly retracted his armored palm, now heavily saturated in smoking, golden-tinged divine blood, Thor's towering three-meter frame could no longer maintain its structural balance.
His knees crashed heavily into the cracked pavement directly before Peter's feet. He tottered forward weakly, collapsing face-first into the debris as his consciousness completely dissolved into absolute blackout.
In that exact fraction of a second, a suffocating, dead silence blanketed the entire coordinates. It felt for all the world as if the very air molecules running through Manhattan had been frozen into a solid block.
Every single hero and multiversal variant present stared with dilated, unblinking eyes at the smoking, broken vessel of the legendary "God" resting in the crater, their minds dropping into a total cognitive void.
Thor... has been definitively terminated?!Did the entity standing before them truly achieve the impossible... utilizing a mortal vessel to execute a literal Deicide?!
Captain America felt his vocal cords go entirely dry, a severe friction burning in his throat. It required a monumental effort before he could force a ragged, trembling sentence out into the open:
"You... you systematically slaughtered him?!"
"Hardly." Peter's response remained thoroughly casual, his tone as light as a breeze. "I happen to be an exceptionally disciplined individual who possesses an intimate understanding of operational boundaries. Consequently... I deliberately left him with a single, functional breath of life."
Naturally, he harbored no genuine intention to permanently end Thor's existence.
Are you kidding? He had absolutely zero desire to completely infuriate Odin, that ancient, reality-warping monster who had successfully governed the cosmos for multiple millennia.
While it was a cold reality that he had utilized the Omnitrix to white-collar siphon the peak physical baseline of a mature Asgardian vessel, truly mastering the cosmic sorcery and divine authority running through the lineage required centuries of structured chronological accumulation.
Even though the current All-Father was heavily withered by age, effectively keeping one foot inside a cosmic coffin, his absolute dominion over the Odinforce was no laughing matter.
If that old monster genuinely decided to go scorched-earth to avenge his firstborn, even with Peter's vast array of cheat codes, ensuring Gwen's safe, unblemished evacuation back to their baseline universe would become an exceptionally high-risk calculation.
However... while a capital execution was off the table, it didn't mean he couldn't extract a hefty premium from the Prince's broken vessel.
You randomly materialize out of thin air to disrupt my operational timeline and initiate hostilities; the least you can do is compensate me with a substantial mental damages fee!
Clinging to that highly logical thought, Peter's gaze swept across Thor's prone form. He casually knelt down under the highly suspicious, deeply anxious gazes of the surrounding Avengers, reaching out to firmly grasp the iconic, winged silver helm resting on Thor's head.
The exact millisecond he pulled the legendary artifact free from the Prince's blonde locks, the distinct, mechanical chime of his system interface resonated flawlessly within his consciousness:
[Detected Sacrificial Attribute Object (Blue Tier): Helmet of the Mighty Thor.]
[Object Profile: An apex defensive artifact donned by the Prince of Asgard during his countless military conquests across the Nine Realms. It doesn't merely provide immense defensive resilience; it harbors a distinct residual trace of Asgard's unique divine authority. If deployed as a conceptual Holy Relic within specific summoning matrices, it may possess the capacity to call forth an exceptionally formidable entity.]
[Sacrificial Conversion Yield: 2,500 System Points. Do you wish to proceed with the conversion?]
A Holy Relic?!So, system, you really are just a high-end, cross-dimensional second-hand pawn broker that systematically liquidates the assets of hosts across different realities, huh?
If that was the hard operational baseline of the exchange engine, then that volatile, ticking Iron Monger chassis he had sacrificed during his previous engagement...
Yikes. Let's just collectively hope whoever ended up summoning that thing in another reality is doing completely fine...
After offering a brief, highly insincere three-second silent tribute to whatever unfortunate "brother" across the multiverse might have sustained an unexpected mechanical disaster due to his past sacrifice, Peter didn't hesitate for a single millisecond, immediately confirming the liquidation.
The moment the cold, physical weight of the silver helm dissolved into a highly comforting, warm balance on his System Points counter, Peter turned his gaze back toward Captain America. As if suddenly remembering a critical footnote, he casually added:
"Of course, if his biological systems completely collapse because your infrastructure fails to provide instantaneous, specialized medical intervention... that will be entirely decoupled from my ledger~"
Hearing the clarification, Steve Rogers first exhaled a massive, involuntary sigh of relief before the underlying warning hit his tactical brain like a physical blow. He pivoted toward his communications grid, his voice rising into a frantic, high-frequency command:
"Move! Tony, Natasha—this individual requires immediate, maximum-level trauma intervention!"
If Thor of Asgard officially flatlined on Midgardian soil, the geopolitical fallout would be catastrophic! The Avengers roster possessed absolutely zero defensive metrics capable of withstanding the unmitigated, vengeful wrath of the entire Asgardian military armada!
Clinging to that terrifying calculation, Cap completely abandoned his scrutiny of Peter's position.
He hauled Thor's massive, multi-ton scorched frame onto his shoulders, sprinting frantically toward their advanced transport systems.
As his gaze peacefully escorted the departing trio out of the airspace, Peter pivoted on his heel, his golden visor reflecting the remaining assembly of shell-shocked superheroes as he calmly inquired:
"Now then... with that minor distraction neutralized, my primary objective remains to locate this self-proclaimed 'Superior Spider-Man' and systematically hold him accountable for his operational blunders."
He paused for a brief, calculated beat, his lips curling into a thoroughly playful, deeply testing smirk.
"Does anyone else present harbor a burning desire to interrupt my trajectory?"
The entire plaza descended into an absolute, suffocating silence.
The surviving heroes looked at one another, their features painting a unified tapestry of total, unadulterated hesitation.
Who would dare step forward? What metrics could they possibly deploy to enforce a perimeter? Were they expected to throw their bare skulls into his kinetic path?
An immortal deity had just been systematically broken like a common stray dog and discarded right before their eyes. If mere mortals like them stepped into his strike zone, they wouldn't even possess the baseline durability to serve as a proper warm-up routine.
With those paralyzing realizations cementing themselves in their minds, the collective gaze of the assembly slowly, uniformly gravitated toward the towering form of the Hulk.
If there remained even a single asset on the battlefield capable of altering Peter's operational timeline, it was indisputably the green behemoth.
But the Hulk? The massive creature was completely oblivious to the desperate, pleading gazes of his teammates. He was currently hunched over, letting out a series of low, rhythmic, and thoroughly delighted guttural chuckles:
"Hulk-Hulk-Hulk~! Puny God!"
He had harbored a deep-seated frustration toward Thor's arrogant posturing for an exceptionally long duration.
Peter's systematic thrashing of the blonde prince had effectively served as a massive, cathartic release for the green giant's petty grudges.
Furthermore, the Hulk shared absolutely zero personal history or enmity with Peter, and given his historical lack of fulfillment within the structural constraints of the Avengers roster, his loyalty to their collective agenda was practically nonexistent.
Consequently, he harbored absolutely zero intent to target Peter. In fact, his primitive psyche felt a profound shred of genuine appreciation for the golden knight.
The strong should live exactly this free! This is precisely how an apex predator is supposed to conduct themselves!
Observing that even the absolute trump card of the Avengers showed zero inclination to enforce a containment perimeter, the Spiders comprising the multiversal alliance could no longer suppress their emotions, bursting into a synchronized, deafening torrent of cheers. The gaze they focused on Peter could no longer be classified under the standard definition of admiration.
It was pure, unadulterated, fanatical devotion! It was the exact ocular frequency displayed by religious zealots witnessing a literal, physical manifestation of their deity!
The Boss is the absolute Boss!Investing your loyalty in an entity of this caliber is what a true, prosperous future looks like!
Yet, the fanatical heat radiating from the Spider-Army completely paled in comparison to the gaze Gwen Stacy was currently fixing on Peter's golden profile. The absolute warmth in her eyes was so intensely saturated that it looked ready to completely melt.
That effortless composure, that unyielding baseline dominance, and that terrifying, absolute power that treated even divine sovereigns as common debris... it functioned as the most addictive, lethal toxin in existence.
It ensured that even while her higher rational mind fully recognized the inherent danger of his orbit, she remained completely incapable of stopping her descent into his gravity.
She had arrived at a crystal-clear, unvarnished realization: her Peter was no longer the gentle, fundamentally kind, and occasionally overly hesitant boy she had structured within her past nostalgic fantasies.
He was staggeringly powerful, thoroughly overbearing, unapologetically unfaithful, and carried a heavy, undeniable streak of absolute villainy running through his core methodology.
He was the furthest possible thing from the idealized, monogamous, and flawless white knight she had once assumed she would anchor her existence to.
And yet... she recognized with absolute clarity that there was no path of retreat left for her heart.
Her entire psychological and physical baseline had been thoroughly, unconditionally conquered by his presence.
If she were to somehow sever her connection to his shadow, where on earth across the infinite canvas of the multiverse would she ever locate an entity more exceptional, more dominant, or more fundamentally dedicated to her preservation?
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