Ethan Blake knew things weren't going well in his life—but he definitely didn't expect things to go this wrong.
Two years.
That's how long he'd been stuck.
Stuck trying to write something meaningful. Stuck watching others move forward while he stayed exactly where he was. Every idea he started felt incomplete. Every draft felt hollow. At some point, he stopped trusting his own creativity.
And today?
Today felt like the lowest point yet.
Just half an hour ago, he had been lying on his dorm bed, half-focused on a random movie. A disposable grill sat nearby, the faint smell of charred meat still lingering in the air. A bottle of cold cola rested in his hand, condensation dripping onto his fingers.
It was simple. Ordinary. Safe.
Then everything went dark.
No warning.
No sound.
No pain.
Just—gone.
And now…
"…Yeah, this isn't my dorm."
Ethan stood in a narrow alleyway, his voice echoing slightly against the brick walls around him. The air felt different—colder, heavier. A faint smell of damp concrete and garbage hung in the air.
He looked down at himself.
Pajama shirt.
Loose shorts.
Slippers.
"…Perfect."
A cold wind brushed past him, sharp enough to send a chill down his spine. Instinctively, he pressed his back against the wall, his heartbeat picking up.
"Okay… think," he muttered under his breath. "This is either the world's weirdest prank… or I finally lost it."
Neither option felt comforting.
He forced himself to breathe slowly, scanning his surroundings more carefully this time.
Old brick buildings.
Metal fire escapes zig-zagging upward.
Overflowing trash bins.
Dim lighting from a flickering streetlamp nearby.
It felt real.
Too real.
Then something caught his eye.
A strip of newspaper lying on the ground.
Ethan hesitated for a second before picking it up.
"…English. Good."
At least he could read it.
His eyes moved across the printed text quickly.
"Over the past two weeks, Brooklyn has experienced two unexplained earthquakes…"
He paused.
Brooklyn?
That alone was enough to make his stomach tighten slightly.
He kept reading.
"Authorities have stated that the epicenter lies beneath the borough. While unusual, officials urge residents not to panic…"
Ethan flipped the paper.
Another article.
"Local businessman Wilson Fisk donates advanced laboratory equipment to Midtown High School…"
His fingers froze.
"…Wilson Fisk?"
The name hit him like a punch to the gut.
Slowly, very slowly, Ethan lowered the paper.
Brooklyn.
Midtown High.
Wilson Fisk.
"…No way."
He let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh.
"You're telling me… out of all places…"
His gaze lifted toward the skyline beyond the alley.
"…I ended up here?"
The Marvel Universe.
A world where alien invasions were a headline, not a once-in-history event.
A world where gods walked among humans.
A world where entire cities could be destroyed—and somehow, life would just… continue.
Ethan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.
"Yeah… that's not terrifying at all."
He started walking slowly toward the end of the alley, each step cautious, uncertain.
"Okay. Calm down. Think logically."
Maybe this was still some kind of elaborate illusion.
Maybe he was unconscious somewhere.
Maybe—
Bzz—
Something snapped.
Ethan froze mid-step.
His body went rigid.
Every muscle tightened instinctively.
His senses sharpened all at once—the faint rustle of plastic, the distant hum of traffic, even the subtle shift of air above him.
And without thinking…
He looked up.
There.
A figure.
Hanging upside down from the edge of a building, easily ten meters above the ground.
Ethan's breath caught in his throat.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
The figure tilted their head slightly, as if surprised to be noticed so quickly.
"Hey—"
"Wait!"
The word came out faster than Ethan expected.
His voice trembled slightly, but he didn't care.
"Are you… Spider-Man?"
Silence.
For a brief moment, neither of them moved.
Then the figure shifted—and dropped.
No hesitation.
No fear.
They landed right in front of Ethan with a soft, controlled motion, knees bending slightly to absorb the impact.
No sound.
No strain.
Just… effortless.
Ethan's eyes widened.
"…Yeah. That answers that."
Spider-Man.
Standing right in front of him.
And yet—
Something felt off.
The suit wasn't the classic red and blue he expected.
This one was darker.
Black and gray tones, sleek and sharp. A long coat-like layer hung over the suit, giving it a more grounded, almost tactical look.
Less "friendly neighborhood."
More… something else.
Spider-Man tilted his head, studying him.
"Uh… you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost."
Ethan blinked.
"Yeah," he said honestly. "Because I basically did."
A pause.
Then—
His brain caught up.
Wait.
"Hold on."
Ethan frowned slightly, focusing inward.
"That feeling just now…"
He looked directly at Spider-Man.
"Why did my Spider-Sense react to you?"
That got a reaction.
Spider-Man straightened slightly.
"You have Spider-Sense?"
Ethan's stomach dropped.
"…Right."
He hadn't meant to say that out loud.
"I'm not Spider-Man," Ethan said quickly, raising his hands slightly.
"…At least, I don't think I am."
Spider-Man crossed his arms.
"That's not usually something people say unless they are."
Ethan exhaled, running a hand through his hair again.
"I got bitten by a spider yesterday. That's it. No suit, no training, nothing."
He gestured vaguely around them.
"And now I'm here."
Spider-Man stared at him for a moment.
"…Yeah, that's not normal."
"Exactly!" Ethan pointed at him.
"If getting bitten was enough, the whole city would be full of Spider-Men by now."
The words hung in the air for a second.
Then Ethan's expression slowly shifted.
"…So something's different."
His voice lowered, more to himself than to Spider-Man.
Because deep down—
He already knew.
That spider wasn't normal.
He remembered it clearly now.
The way it moved.
The way it looked.
Almost like it didn't belong.
And now—
He was standing in a different world.
With abilities he didn't fully understand.
Facing someone who was supposed to be fictional.
Ethan let out a quiet breath.
"…Great."
He looked up at Spider-Man again.
"So let me get this straight."
"I get bitten by a weird spider, wake up in another universe, almost get a heart attack from my own instincts, and now I'm talking to you."
A small pause.
"…Anything else I should expect?"
Spider-Man didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he studied Ethan more carefully this time.
Not as a stranger.
But as a variable.
Something unexpected.
"Yeah," Spider-Man finally said.
"You should expect things to get a lot weirder."
Ethan let out a dry laugh.
"Fantastic."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The city noise in the distance filled the silence.
Then—
That same sensation returned.
Stronger this time.
Sharper.
Like something pulling at him from somewhere else.
Ethan flinched slightly, grabbing his head.
"…What is that?"
The air in front of him—
Shifted.
Not visibly.
But he could feel it.
Like space itself was stretching.
Warping.
Spider-Man tensed immediately.
"Okay… that's new."
Ethan stared at the spot in front of him, his breathing uneven.
"I didn't do that."
"Yeah," Spider-Man said, stepping back slightly. "That's the concerning part."
The distortion grew.
Subtle—but undeniable.
Like an invisible door beginning to open.
Ethan's heart started pounding.
"…I think…"
He swallowed.
"…I think this is me."
Spider-Man's posture changed instantly.
Alert.
Ready.
"Then you better figure out how to control it—fast."
Ethan didn't respond.
He couldn't.
Because in that moment—
He understood.
Not completely.
Not clearly.
But enough.
This wasn't just power.
This was something else.
Something bigger.
"…A tunnel," he whispered.
Spider-Man frowned.
"What?"
Ethan's eyes stayed locked on the distortion.
"A way through."
His voice was quiet—but certain.
Not just strength.
Not just reflexes.
He had something more.
Something no other Spider-Man should have.
The air twisted slightly—
Then snapped back to normal.
Silence.
Ethan stood there, breathing heavily.
"…Okay."
He looked up slowly.
"…Yeah. That's definitely not normal."
Spider-Man stared at him for a long second.
Then—
"…You're right."
Another pause.
"…You're not normal at all."
Ethan let out a weak laugh.
"Yeah."
He looked down at his hands.
Then back at the city.
Then at Spider-Man.
"…Guess I'm really here."
No denial left.
No escape.
Just reality.
A dangerous one.
But still—
He straightened slightly.
"…Alright."
Spider-Man raised an eyebrow.
"Alright?"
Ethan nodded.
"Yeah."
A small pause.
Then, with a faint, determined look—
"If I'm stuck in a world where everything's already insane…"
His voice steadied.
"…I might as well not be the weakest guy in it."
Spider-Man stared at him for a moment—
Then chuckled quietly.
"Yeah," he said.
"That's a good place to start."
And just like that—
Ethan Blake's normal life ended.
And something far bigger began.