The investigation into Nimrod seemed to have ground to a halt. Until S.H.I.E.L.D. could locate a stockpile of Promethium, or the X-Men could find Rogue, there was little for the Avengers to do. Peter had no idea when the X-Men or S.H.I.E.L.D. would yield results, but something happened on his end first.
His Spider-Sense rang out once more, revealing visions from another universe: in the midst of pitch-black darkness, a Spider-Man wearing a fedora and a black trench coat appeared on the streets of 1933 America.
"While you have this free time, you can go settle some business regarding the Multiverse."
Madame Web, having let herself in, was leisurely drinking coffee at the Web of Destiny base. She tossed the idol that Peter and Cindy had brought back from Italy to him. "Take this with you; it might be useful."
"Is this also a future you've foreseen?" Peter asked Madame Web, but she did not answer. He let out a helpless sigh. "We are facing an enemy that could destroy the world at any moment, and now the Web of Destiny wants me to go to another world..."
"This isn't running away, Spider-Man. Perhaps this is just another way to solve the problem." Julia Carpenter looked at Peter with a smile. "Sometimes, taking the long way around is actually a shortcut."
"Trust me, you will find what you need there."
Earth-90214, 1933, New York.
A light rain had just passed. The night remained as dark as ever, and New York was no different than it had been before. The damp air carried the scent of earth, and splashes of water kicked up by speeding cars sprayed across the sides of the road.
Inside one of these speeding cars sat electrical engineer Max Dillon, the head of an electrical company under the Osborn Corporation. Wrapped in a heavy overcoat, he sat in the car reading the news. The headline read: "Spider-Monster Appears, Murders Innocent Citizen."
He didn't kill an innocent citizen, Max muttered to himself. He knew the man killed by the Spider-Monster was a hitman specifically hired by Osborn—a thug codenamed Vulture who used a glider for assassinations. He had been shot out of the sky by a revolver.
Then there was a second, a third...
Suddenly, Max heard a heavy thud from the roof of the car, as if something substantial had landed on it. Max unbuttoned his trench coat and said to the driver, "Don't stop, keep driving."
The driver swallowed nervously. The Daily Bugle had been reporting lately on that damn fellow called the Spider-Monster. It was said he was not only invulnerable to blades and bullets but was also a serial killer—a total freak of nature.
Was it possible that this guy was the one who had climbed onto the roof?
The helpless driver heard a muffled thud, then another, and another. By the third strike, the car's roof was punched open. The ceiling was then torn away, and a masked man in a trench coat, wearing a blackened pilot's uniform and aviator goggles, looked down at Max.
"What is Osborn doing?"
"Your threats mean nothing to Mr. Osborn, Spider-Monster. You are threatening a legitimate businessman."
The Spider-Monster then leveled his revolver at Max. "Then let me ask a different way: What is the Green Goblin planning?!"
Max finally broke into a smile. In the next second, a surging current of electricity shot up into the sky, knocking the Spider-Monster to the ground. As the car screeched to a halt, Max stepped out and threw open his trench coat, revealing a complex circuit system underneath.
"Spider-Man—I know that's what you call yourself. You have some... power beyond ordinary men," Max said with a smile, swinging two chains crackling with electricity in his hands. "But the times have changed! This is the age of technology! And I command the power of electricity."
There was a loud bang of a gunshot.
The so-called Electro had his knee shattered by a bullet, and he collapsed dejectedly to the ground. Spider-Man spun the cylinder of his revolver. "I'm only asking once. What is the Green Goblin planning?"
A few minutes later, Spider-Man crouched on a nearby rooftop, watching the police arrive to collect the body. He knew full well that the courts would provide no justice. Norman Osborn was an entrepreneur and billionaire in name only; in reality, he was the patriarch and kingpin of the New York Mob.
If only the abilities he had received from the so-called Spider-God were more powerful. At the very least, he could charge into Osborn's heavily guarded mansion and put a bullet in him directly. But he couldn't; he was still just a mortal man after all, lacking such overwhelming power.
No, it was enough. Peter Parker realized clearly that there was no one else in this world quite like him. Everyone else was an ordinary person, while he had gained superhuman strength, speed, and endurance. These were enough for him to fight crime.
Suddenly, his Spider-Sense flared. Spider-Man scrambled to his feet. Behind him, an entity he could not comprehend appeared. A swirling portal opened, and a tall, gaunt man stepped out. His face was deathly pale, as if he were a corpse; he had long hair slicked back and wore ornate clothing that seemed to be from the Victorian era.
Most critically, his eyes were red.
"A vampire? What am I even getting worked up about?"
Spider-Man, who had been worried at first, let out a sigh. If a Spider-God existed, why worry about a vampire? He raised his revolver and pointed it at the stranger. "No matter whose blood you plan on drinking, you've got the wrong guy."
"Drink blood? My apologies, you seem to have misunderstood what I am." The man bowed politely to Spider-Man. "I am no vampire; I can walk beneath the sun. In truth, I have come for a meal. My food is you, a puny Spider Totem."
"I am Morlun, the hunter of your kind."
His Spider-Sense screaming like never before, Spider-Man fired a shot at the man named Morlun. But the man was faster than the bullet, dodging the shot effortlessly. He lunged forward, seized Spider-Man by the throat, and lifted him off the ground. He opened his mouth, and a terrifying suction gripped Spider-Man's soul, making him feel his life force draining away rapidly.
What the hell is this thing?!
It was at that moment that Morlun let out a howl of pain and threw him aside. Spider-Man heard a voice that was somewhat familiar, yet he couldn't place where he had heard it. Looking up, he saw a man dressed in a red and black web-patterned suit.
"The Inheritors? I've heard much about you. This is our first meeting, isn't it?"
"The Totem-Eater?" Morlun clutched his face—specifically the wound left by the other person tearing through space itself. He looked at the newcomer with a mix of caution and interest, then smiled and slowly retreated.
"I look forward to hunting you, Totem-Eater."