654 C654 General Fisk

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In the tense aftermath of Peter's revelation, Mateo's glare bore into Miles, a mix of resentment and frustration etched on his face. "…"

"You know, he may feel guilty, but it's not really Miles' fault," Peter interjected, frowning at Mateo. "The spider just found him and bit him. If you want to blame someone, blame Wilson Fisk for making the machine that messed up the multiverse and caused this mess. He's the real reason you missed out on becoming Spider-Man."

"Wilson Fisk?" Mateo questioned, his frown deepening as he looked up at Peter, still hanging from the chains.

Peter could see a look of hatred flicker across both Mateo and his Uncles faces as the name Wilson Fisk was mentioned. 'Are they criminal rivals or something?'

Miles nodded, hoping to ease the brewing animosity. "Yeah, do you have a Kingpin here too?"

Mateo reluctantly nodded, uncertainty clouding his eyes. His conflicting emotions toward Miles intensified, torn between resentment and a rational understanding that it might not be Miles' fault, his mind heavily focusing on the two words 'might not.'

Even now, as Mateo contemplated his feelings, his mind continued searching for someone to blame, and Miles was an easy target.

Meanwhile, Peter continued his explanation, "And as for your dad dying, that's certainly not Miles' fault either."

Glaring at Peter, Mateo ground his teeth together. He couldn't help but feel like a delinquent school boy getting lectured by a teacher, which didn't sit well with him.

Peter sighed, shaking his head. "For that, you should blame whoever or whatever killed him. But after that, you can blame fate, destiny, or whatever other deity controls the multiverse."

Mateo and his Uncle Aaron exchanged confused glances, feeling as if Peter was alluding to something beyond their understanding.

"Wait! Do you mean an actual Deity?!" Mateo seemed to puzzle it together after a moment.

Nodding, Miles explained. "For some reason, our dads are destined to die. Even mine is supposed to die in about a year for some reason or another…" As he said this, Mateo turned to him with a hint of pity and understanding, but sadly, his next words threw all of that away. "Thankfully, I met Peter here. He placed protection spell on my dad that should keep him safe…"

Instantly, the room became charged with the resurgence of jealousy and resentment in Mateo. His gaze lingered on Miles, a storm brewing in his eyes as he grappled with the unfairness of their lives.

Why was it Miles who got bit by the spider? Why was it Miles whose father was still alive, and why was it Miles who met Peter just in time to save his family?

Sighing in acknowledgment of the renewed tension, Peter shook his head, observing the enmity in Mateo's eyes. It was evident that connecting with Miles would be a challenging task. Mateo had faced harsh realities, navigating a universe darker and seemingly more crime-ridden than Miles'.

In contrast, Miles seemed to have enjoyed a relatively good life, growing up in a much more forgiving universe. He even attended a private boarding school, a luxury Mateo's family could never afford after his father's tragic demise. The stark contrast in their experiences seemed to deepen the divide between them.

As the strained silence persisted, Peter sensed that mere words might not bridge the gap between the two versions of Miles Morales. Mateo's bitterness ran deep, rooted in the harsh realities of his own universe.

Miles, oblivious to the struggles in Mateo's life, faced the challenge of being seen as living the life Mateo wished he had.

Realizing that time was of the essence, Peter decided it was time to bring an end to this tumultuous encounter. The first light of dawn painted the sky outside, a reminder of the urgency that overshadowed their current situation.

Talking seemed futile, and Peter knew he had a pressing mission to confront Centurion. He doubted the villain was still in this universe, which is why he was willing to waste his time here, considering the fact that the Kang should know his lackey, LYLA, has been compromised.

With an uncaring shrug, Peter took charge of the situation. "Alright, we've wasted enough time here," he declared, eyes fixed on the pane glass windows. "The sun's rising, and I need to find Centurion, or whatever he left behind while he was running away…"

Mateo and Uncle Aaron exchanged worried glances as Peter spoke. They couldn't shake the feeling that they might be left here, tied in chains and suspended from a punching bag, which would normally be fine, as they'd simply use the opportunity to escape, but they distinctly recall Peter saying something about magical failsafes on the chain.

"You're not just going to leave us here, are you?" Mateo blurted out, anxiety creeping into his voice. "I have school, you know. If I don't show up, my mom gets a call. And if she can't find me, she'll call the cops..."

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Peter shook his head. "No, I'm not leaving you two here," he replied, a hint of irritation in his tone. He strode purposefully toward the restrained uncle and nephew, both suspended on the punching bag.

As Peter approached, Mateo and his Uncle Aaron instinctively began to struggle against their chains, fearing the worst. Their eyes widened with apprehension as Peter reached out, but instead of harming them, he merely touched the chains. With a single poke of his finger, the restraints shattered into pieces, clattering to the floor.

Eyes wide with surprise, both Mateo and his uncle tumbled to the ground, now free from their confinement. Despite their newfound freedom, they quickly assumed fighting stances, wary of potential tricks from their former captors.

Turning away from them, Peter casually called over his shoulder, "You're both free to go about your lives. See yah."

Bewildered and expecting a catch to appear, Mateo and his uncle exchanged a glance, cautiously heaving a sigh of relief. However, their respite was short-lived as Peter paused in his steps, turning back toward them with a cryptic expression.

"Oh, yeah, one more thing," Peter announced, causing Mateo and his uncle to gulp nervously.

Expecting the worst, they braced themselves for another twist in their unpredictable encounter. But to their surprise, Peter pulled out his phone, showing them a picture.

"Have you seen this man before?" Peter inquired, presenting an image of the exiled Kang he fought before. 'Speaking of the Exiled one, I should probably start milking him for information…'

After all, Peter specifically trapped his soul in a jewel so that he could use him to take down the Kang's. And it seemed the time to prove himself useful has finally arriving.

Staring at the picture for a brief moment, Uncle Aaron and Miles seemed to freeze as looks of pure hatred and rage clouded their faces. Even compared to the mere mention of the Kingpin, who evoked a similar response in them, this time it was so much more amplified.

"Why are you showing us a picture of the President?" Uncle Aaron asked through gritted teeth before looking up at Peter with a suspicious and accusing glare. "Are you working with him?"

Shaking his head, Peter stored his phone away. "So he made himself president here, huh?" His expression turned serious as he explained, "I don't know what grudge you have against him, but if I were you, I'd stay far away. This man is very dangerous. If you see him, turn the other way and keep walking. Unless of course, you have a death wish or some sort of mental disability…"

Mateo and his uncle both wore hardened expressions on their faces, completely disregarding his warning. To which Peter simply shrugged his shoulders. He would be taking care of Centurion either way, so they should be fine.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Peter waved goodbye and headed towards the exit. "Well, it was nice holding you captive, hopefully you aren't dumb enough to attack us again."

Before following Peter down the stairs, Miles hesitated, eyeing Uncle Aaron, who looked at him warily in return. The tension hung in the air as Miles took a deep breath, preparing to say his peace.

"Uncle Aaron," Miles began, breaking the silence. "I know you aren't my Uncle Aaron. My uncle doesn't do crime anymore..."

Hearing this, Uncle Aaron and Mateo exchanged puzzled glances, their skepticism evident. Miles pressed on, determined to share a piece of wisdom from his own experience.

"I just want to say, you two don't have to be criminals. I know this universe is probably harsher than mine, which is why you seem to hate me," Miles continued, looking at Mateo with a sense of empathy. "But my Uncle Aaron was a criminal too. He was the Prowler, but I got him to retire. You two can do the same thing. You just have to try your best. I know you can do it…"

————

As Miles delivered his heartfelt speech, Peter, who had just walked out of the front door of the abandoned building, leaned against the walls, listening intently with his super hearing.

As Miles was finishing up, a sudden disturbance interrupted the moment. A long line of Military vehicles came driving down the road, stopping in front of the building Peter had just exited.

The car doors opened, revealing the imposing figure of a scarred, battle hardened Wilson Fisk, who wore an oversized military generals uniform, accompanied by a small army of heavily armed soldiers.

'Huh, does Kingpin work for Centurion in this universe?' Peter wondered.

Raising a brow, Peter observed from a distance as the Kingpin pulled out a technologically advanced-looking rocket launcher from one of the cars and aimed it up at the tower where Miles was talking with their former captives.

The atmosphere shifted, the tranquility shattered as Fisk pulled the trigger, releasing a rocket.

"Huh, I guess I was right. They are enemies…" Peter muttered, his demeanor nonchalant as he snapped his fingers.

Instantly, the rocket struck the tower, creating a large explosion filled with dust and smoke. Fisk chuckled as his men celebrated, confident in their apparent success. The thunderous noise echoed through the air, and the tremors reverberated beneath Peter's feet.

But as the dust settled, a collective gasp rose from Fisk's men. A shimmering barrier had materialized, blocking the rocket just before it could reach the tower, protecting the building and everyone inside. Confusion spread among Fisk's ranks as they stared at the unexpected turn of events.

Peter, leaning against the wall with a casual demeanor, cleared his throat, drawing Fisk's attention. "Ahem…" The crime lord's triumphant expression faltered as he locked eye with Peter.

Peter waved casually, a smirk playing on his lips, "Yo."

A/N: 1800 words :)

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