A translucent blue screen flickered across Veyric's retinas, visible to no one but him.
[Character: Veyric]
[Current Status: Right calf, torn laceration (bleeding stopped)]
[Talent: Blood of Light]
[Notice: Successfully cured Spider-Man. +1 Experience Point]
[Notice: Purchase access unlocked for talent "Spider-Sense"]
A hexagonal radar chart of attributes fanned open beneath the notifications.
His numbers, though, were nothing short of tragic. A clean sweep of ones across the board.
[Intelligence: LV.1 (Unremarkable)]
[Strength: LV.1 (Couldn't Hurt a Fly)]
[Speed: LV.1 (Hobbling Along)]
[Durability: LV.1 (Flesh and Blood)]
[Energy: LV.1 (Flatlined)]
[Fighting: LV.1 (All Flash, No Substance)]
[Available Experience: 1]
[Note: Upgrading any attribute from LV.1 to LV.2 costs 1 Experience Point]
"All ones. The textbook cannon-fodder starting build."
A bitter laugh escaped him. He spent the point without hesitation, dumping it straight into Durability.
Durability governed how much punishment his body could absorb and how fast it recovered. In gaming terms, it was his health bar. Survival came first. Everything else could wait.
[Ding... Allocation successful]
[Durability: LV.1 (Flesh and Blood) → LV.2 (Built to Last)]
Warmth surged up his spine and flooded outward through every limb.
The drilling agony in his right calf dulled to something bearable, and the hollow weakness from blood loss filled with a quiet, humming vitality. The wound hadn't closed, but he could tell his body would hold together through rougher treatment now.
Only then did he turn his attention back to Spider-Man.
Peter sat slumped against the rubble, holding the tattered remains of his old mask. Dried blood caked the fabric in dark, rust-colored streaks. He stared at it, lost somewhere far away.
The weight of what he'd done as a zombie was crushing him. Even a superhero couldn't just shrug that off.
Veyric reached out and rested a hand on Peter's shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was soft.
"If you can't keep smiling after they're gone, you might as well have left with them."
Peter's head snapped up. His eyes were swollen, red-rimmed, and wide with disbelief.
"That's... Aunt May used to say that to me all the time. How could you possibly know that?"
"The people we've lost would want us to keep going. After all..." Veyric paused, holding Peter's gaze. "With great power..."
"...comes great responsibility." Peter finished the sentence before he even realized he was speaking.
That line, worn smooth by a million fan conversations, carried a different gravity when it landed on the man it was meant for.
[Ding...]
[Spider-Man's attitude toward you updated to: Grateful]
[Spider-Man Affinity +20. Current Value: 80]
[Bond Level: LV.0 (Stranger)]
[Note: Raise Affinity to 100 to upgrade Hero Bond and unlock unique rewards]
Seeing the word Grateful flash across his display, Veyric felt an unexpected sting behind his eyes.
He'd grown up on these stories. Superhero comics, superhero movies, superhero games. They'd carried him through more dark days than he could count, lending him courage he couldn't find on his own.
Now it was his turn to be the one offering comfort. His turn to save them.
Peter was quiet for a long time. The fog in his eyes slowly cleared, sharpening into something deeper, more searching. His gaze settled on Veyric with a weight that hadn't been there before.
"How do you know all of this? Who are you, really?"
Veyric smiled. "Didn't I just introduce myself? Traveler from another universe."
Peter shook his head, managing a thin, weary grin. "You really are full of mystery."
"Hrrraaagh..."
Somewhere in the distance, a chorus of low groans bled through the gaps in the rubble.
The scent of fresh blood had done its work. A dark mass of shambling corpses was drifting toward them, slow but relentless.
Peter glanced down at the mask in his hand. He didn't put it on. Instead, he smoothed it flat against the ground and gave it a gentle pat, like sealing away a chapter written in hunger and slaughter.
"The blood's going to draw more of them. We need to move."
He reached down and pulled Veyric to his feet. His voice had found its steel again.
"Where to?"
The corner of Peter's mouth curved into a grin that hadn't surfaced in a long time, something playful and distinctly him. "Ever been bungee jumping?"
Veyric blinked.
"AAAAHHH...!!!"
The scream ripped across the Manhattan skyline.
Webbing lashed Veyric tight against Peter's back, and the two of them shot through the skeletal remains of the city's towers like a comet, swinging between shattered high-rises at terrifying speed.
Back in his old life, Veyric had platinumed all three Spider-Man games on PS5. His favorite move was climbing to the tallest spire he could find, leaping off, stringing together acrobatic flips through freefall, then firing a web at the last possible second to rocket back skyward.
He'd lost count of how many times he'd daydreamed about actually being Spider-Man, soaring over New York with nothing but momentum and silk.
Today, the dream came true.
And he hated every second of it. The roller-coaster plunges of zero gravity, the wind hammering down his throat until he couldn't breathe, the sensation that his organs were trying to evacuate through his mouth.
"My webbing stopped the bleeding, but you still need proper disinfection and sutures. I'll find some medical supplies first." Peter glided between buildings with the calm of someone discussing lunch plans.
Strapped to his back, Veyric was losing the battle against motion sickness. He tried to answer "Okay," but the word tore out of him as another scream the moment they plummeted off a rooftop.
"This is just a theory, but I think your blood can kill the virus. Reverse the infection, bring zombies back to normal." Peter's voice stayed perfectly even. "How are you doing that?"
"I... don't... kn... WHOA!" The words came out in shredded fragments.
"Maybe we need to find a lab. Run some tests on your body." Peter flipped over a crumbling high-rise and glided another thirty meters through open air.
"Veyric, my Spider-Sense is telling me you're the key to ending all of this."
"@#$%...!"
They swung on for another stretch before the skyline dropped away. The towers gave way to low-rise residential blocks. They'd covered at least ten kilometers from where they started.
THOOM.
A textbook superhero landing. Spider-Man touched down in the middle of the street, right in front of a small pharmacy.
The instant the webbing came loose, Veyric lunged for the nearest trash can and threw up everything he had.
Peter walked over and patted his back gently.
"Sorry about that. I went a little fast, I know, but your blood is a beacon for every zombie in range. If another super-powered one caught our trail, things would've gotten complicated."
Veyric wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stayed slumped against the trash can, unable to speak, and just flashed Peter a shaky thumbs-up.
Holy hell.
Ten kilometers in eight minutes.
His soul had detached somewhere around three kilometer and was still trying to catch up. Theme parks had nothing on this.
If he hadn't upgraded Durability when he did, the leg wound plus that nightmare ride would have knocked him unconscious mid-air.
So much for ever becoming Spider-Man. That dream was officially dead.
With Peter's arm steadying him, they pushed through the pharmacy door.
"Let's see... if you've been bitten by a humanoid spider, what would the prescription look like?" Peter muttered to himself, already crouched between the shelves, rifling through supplies.
Veyric leaned against the wall near the entrance, resting while keeping watch on the street outside.
Silence.
Nothing but a faint breeze whispering through the ruins.
For the first time since arriving in this world, the relentless pace finally eased. His muscles loosened by a fraction.
He patted his pockets out of habit. Since his physical body had crossed over, his phone was still in his jeans. He thumbed the power button.
Nothing.
Dead screen.
Whether the jump between universes had fried it or the battery had simply died, there was no way to tell.
"Doesn't matter. Not like cell service is a thing here..."
He was about to slide it back into his pocket when something in the dark screen caught his eye. A reflection. The ceiling, mirrored in the glass.
A strand of black, viscous matter clung to the tiles above him, writhing in silence, oozing downward drop by drop. It was inches from his scalp.
"Peter!"
Veyric shouted and threw himself flat, rolling hard to the side.
The black mass lunged. It snapped downward like a striking snake, closing the distance in a blur.
Thwip! Thwip!
White streaks shot from the back of the pharmacy and nailed the thing mid-air with surgical precision.
The force slammed it against the glass door panel, pinning it under layers of webbing.
"You alright?"
Peter vaulted to Veyric's side in a single leap and eased him upright.
"Yeah. Not hurt."
Heart still hammering, Veyric turned to look.
A fist-sized glob of black, gelatinous matter thrashed wildly inside its cocoon of webbing on the door. It had no fixed shape, constantly shifting and reforming. The closer Veyric stepped, the more frantic its writhing became.
His eyes went wide.
"That's... Venom?!"