As soon as I opened my eyes, I knew something was wrong. That ceiling wasn't mine, and even the smell of the room was completely different. I tried to move, but my entire body ached. Doing the best I could, I sat up in bed and looked around the unfamiliar bedroom, which nonetheless triggered a strange sense of familiarity within me.
I got out of bed and walked toward the... bathroom? I had no idea how I knew that door led to the bathroom, but I opened it anyway. A sudden creak of splitting wood startled me, leaving me frozen with the door handle still in my hand, staring inside. When I caught my reflection in the mirror, I went completely numb. A brown-haired teenager, lean but athletic, with the physique of someone who worked out every single day, stared back at me with the exact same look of bewilderment. I touched my face and ran my fingers through my hair. The reflection mirrored every single movement with absolute precision. The stranger in the glass was me.
Right then, a massive, splitting headache hit me, making me drop the door, which crashed loudly onto the floor. Suddenly, a flood of memories from a life that wasn't mine rushed through my mind. They belonged to someone incredibly familiar: Peter Benjamin Parker. I was in Spider-Man's body, and by the looks of it, he had just obtained his powers yesterday.
Even though the memories of my past life remained perfectly clear, Peter Parker's mind had fused with my own. I knew the names of his teachers, his locker combination, and the deep affection he felt for his aunt and uncle. It was fucking insane. I had read about transmigration on the internet, but living it was a whole different story. I was in Spider-Man's body, and according to my new memories, Peter had been bitten just yesterday, meaning I had the chance to change one of the most tragic stories in the Marvel universe.
BAM, BAM, BAM!
Loud, heavy knocks on the door made me jump in terror, sending me straight up to stick to the ceiling."Peter?! What was that noise?!" Uncle Ben's worried voice echoed from the other side. "Are you alright, son?"
I looked down at the bathroom floor, horrified. The door was lying right there, completely ripped off its hinges. If they came in and saw this, I would have no way to explain it, especially not while clinging to the ceiling.
I crawled toward the bedroom entrance and pressed my hand against the wood, bracing the door right before they could turn the knob.
"No, don't come in, Uncle Ben! I'm fine!" I said, my voice dripping with nerves.
"Peter, you gave us a terrible fright!" Aunt May's voice joined in from the hallway. "We heard a horrible crash. Let us in, sweetheart, you still have a fever."
"Really, Aunt May, I'm fine!" I insisted, holding the door shut with my hand as I felt Ben pushing from the other side. "It's just... I tripped over my pants while getting up and knocked over a couple of books. I'm already getting dressed! Give me a minute, please."
"Well... alright," Ben yielded, though his tone was laced with confusion. "But come down and get some breakfast. You came back from that field trip yesterday looking like you'd been hit by a truck. Your aunt is worried."
"Yeah, I'll be down in a minute. Thanks," I said, waiting for them to leave.
I listened to their footsteps fade down the hallway and finally exhaled the breath I was holding. I buried my face in my hands, drenched in a cold sweat. Looking down, I stared at the bathroom door on the floor. Following the advice Peter B. Parker gave Miles Morales in Into the Spider-Verse, I detached myself from the ceiling and landed softly on my feet. I picked up the broken door with extreme care and leaned it upright against the frame so that, at a glance, it looked closed.
Glancing at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but strike a bodybuilder pose, admiring the shredded lines now carving my abs. The change was unreal.
I searched the closet for one of Peter's baggiest hoodies, ideal for hiding this new Olympic-athlete physique from everyone else's eyes. I slid into my sneakers and turned my bedroom doorknob with extreme delicacy, holding my breath. There was no longer any trace of the fever or the mutational dizziness. All that was left was the pure adrenaline of knowing the Marvel universe was real, and I had just taken possession of its greatest hero.
I walked down the stairs, floating on a cloud of unreality. Breakfast with Aunt May and Uncle Ben passed by in a blurry haze. Thanks to Peter Parker's mind merging with mine, my body acted on autopilot: I smiled where the original Peter would smile, devoured three plates of pancakes due to the ravenous hunger of my new spider-metabolism, and answered their questions about the fever with just enough awkwardness to avoid suspicion. The residual affection I felt for them from Peter's memories was so real it tightened my chest. I wasn't going to let Ben die in this timeline. No fucking way.
I stepped outside, and the crisp October New York air hit my face. I decided to walk to Midtown High; I needed some alone time to process the absolute madness my life had become.
As I made my way through the residential streets of Queens, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my giant hoodie and looked around. The culture shock hit me right in the face. It was the year 2006. I came from 2026, an era of foldable OLED screens, artificial intelligence, and electric cars, and suddenly I found myself surrounded by DVD movie ads, people walking around with MP3 players hanging from their necks, and flip phones. I glanced at a guy walking past me, talking on a Motorola RAZR v3. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Knowing I was a transmigrated person from the future was going to make replicating things incredibly fun.
But what truly blew my mind wasn't the time travel; it was the massive chunk of information unlocking in my brain as I sorted through Peter's memories. This wasn't the pure 616 comic universe, nor the MCU, nor the Raimi movies. It was a massive amalgam, a goddamn living crossover.
I reviewed the list of my best friends. On one hand, I had the memories of growing up alongside Harry Osborn, the son of billionaire Norman Osborn, identical to the one from Sam Raimi's movies. On the other hand, there was Ned Leeds, the charismatic chubby guy from the MCU. And to top it all off, there was Gwen Stacy. We had been inseparable friends since we were toddlers, sharing games and secrets long before high school got in the way. She was also the girl I secretly liked, whom I now sat next to in advanced science class, and who in this universe looked exactly like Emma Stone's Gwen.
"This is fucking insane," I muttered to myself.
But the real mental short-circuit happened when I recalled the news Peter had seen on TV a few weeks ago. In this world, Stark Industries existed, led by a genius and eccentric Tony Stark who hadn't even become Iron Man yet. But the crown jewel came from a scientific article Peter kept in his backpack: a certain Dr. Reed Richards was looking for private funding for an experimental space mission alongside his friend Ben Grimm and the Storm siblings.
The Fantastic Four existed in this universe. Well, technically, they would exist very soon.
A massive, predatory grin spread across my face. Not only was I in the body of the greatest superhero of all time, but I also possessed knowledge of the future of a universe that had no idea what was about to hit it.
I spotted Midtown High School in the distance, watching the crowd of students swarming the entrance. Amid the sea of immature 2006 teenagers, I caught sight of Ned's silhouette waving a hand excitedly, Harry leaning against a wall in his expensive designer clothes, and the flash of Gwen Stacy's blonde hair as she laughed at something Ned was saying.
The game had just begun.
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Well, here's the first chapter of the fic 2.0. I finished writing it while watching the Japan vs. Tunisia match.
I apologize again for the wait of over a year, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.