As "Gwen" spoke, the scene around Peter suddenly shifted.
The hospital disappeared, and in its place, a seemingly endless road stretched before him like the sharp tip of a spear, vanishing into the horizon.
The atmosphere was eerie—blurred, heavy, and unsettling.
On either side of the highway lay an endless expanse of barren wilderness: cracked red soil, lifeless gray trees.
Above, the sky was an unnatural shade of blue, but in the distance, dark thunderclouds rumbled, sounding like anvils rolling across the heavens.
"Gwen" stood a few feet away, inhaling deeply, as if she had just emerged from an icy lake in the dead of winter.
"You are the Spider-Man of this universe, Peter. But it seems you're... different from the others," she said, tilting her head slightly.
Peter narrowed his eyes and slowly raised his right hand, claws poised to strike.
"Different? So, you've met Spider-Men from other worlds?"
As he spoke, he took in his surroundings.
The wasteland reeked of death.
In the middle of the road, two black crows pecked at a flattened pangolin, their sharp beaks tearing into the bloody remains.
It looked like a crushed Easter egg—cracked open, spilling its insides.
The birds fought over a piece of flesh, squawking and pecking each other viciously.
"Yes, I've seen many."
"Gwen" seemed unbothered by Peter's growing hostility.
"I've encountered a Spider-Man from the Great Depression—once a factory worker, stripped of everything, venting his rage on the world. Then there was one with a Cockney accent, a troublemaker who delighted in spying on others, feeding his own darkness."
Peter's expression darkened.
"Who are you?" he asked coldly. "Are you also a Spider-Man from another universe?"
"No," "Gwen" sneered, her voice shifting into something far more menacing. "On the contrary, I am the enemy of all Spider-Men."
Her eyes instantly turned blood-red, and thick, black liquid oozed from them, like tar dripping from a broken pipe.
And then, all at once—
The road was no longer empty.
Piled along the highway were bodies.
Countless corpses stacked upon each other, each one wearing a different Spider-Man suit.
Some were barely recognizable, their masks shredded, their bodies twisted unnaturally. Others lay motionless, as if frozen in their final moments.
"Every incarnation of the Spider-Totem is destined to be hunted by the Heir Family," "Gwen" cackled, her voice echoing through the void. "The Master Weaver is dead. All the Spider-Men across the multiverse have been marked. Including you. And soon—your universe will belong to us."
Peter's gaze remained cold.
This thing… this "Heir" wasn't bluffing.
It had already hunted and killed countless Spider-Men.
"What is the Heir Family?" Peter demanded. "Are you one of them?"
"You'll find out soon enough. Because right now—"
"Gwen" smirked.
"I'm locking onto your universe."
Peter's expression didn't change.
But inside, he was calculating.
If this thing was targeting him because of some so-called "Spider-Totem," it was making a huge mistake.
"As for who I am?" "Gwen" continued, voice dripping with malice. "I am God. I am the Devil. I am the Hunter of Totems. I am the shadow you curse in the morning and the nightmare that haunts your sleep. And Peter Parker—"
The air around them crackled.
A blood-red storm erupted from "Gwen's" body, surging toward him like a tidal wave.
Peter didn't flinch.
Instead, he felt it—
A pulse.
A deep, rhythmic thrum beneath his ribs.
The alien embryo inside him was reacting.
Even in the dream world, its presence surged through his veins, flooding him with something indescribable.
A single thought, and the "Queen" was born.
The shadow materialized into something real—a monstrous, midnight-black figure, eyes gleaming with raw hunger.
The Alien Queen roared, then launched herself at the red storm.
The two forces collided with an earth-shattering boom.
Lightning crackled, tearing through the dreamscape.
Peter didn't waste a second.
Wings erupted from his back. He moved—faster than thought—striking with deadly precision.
His fist slammed toward "Gwen."
But just before impact—
She vanished.
A flicker of movement.
She reappeared a few feet away, panting slightly.
Peter's attack had forced her to retreat.
The dream world trembled.
For the first time, "Gwen" looked… uncertain.
"You… you're not a Spider-Totem," she muttered.
Her crimson eyes locked onto Peter's chest, as if seeing something hidden beneath his skin.
"What the hell are you?"
Peter didn't answer.
Because, for the first time, he was starting to understand the truth himself.
The alien embryo inside him wasn't just some parasitic lifeform.
It was something more.
It was a totem.
Not a Spider-Totem. Not something granted by fate.
It was his.
Not something that had been given to Peter Parker—
Something he had given to Peter Parker.
Because he wasn't Peter Parker at all.
At least, not entirely.
Maybe he was never meant to be.
Maybe his soul—the one inside this body—wasn't human to begin with.
Maybe he was the embryo.
Not a parasite.
Not an accident.
A being of its own.
A Totem of something far greater.
A Hunter.
Peter exhaled slowly.
Then, he smiled.
"You hunt totems," he said, stepping toward "Gwen."
"Good. Because so do I."
Her expression darkened.
Peter's voice remained steady.
"You said you're part of the Heir Family?"
He gestured toward the Alien Queen, then at the writhing shadows forming around them.
"Well, I have a family, too."
From the darkness, they emerged.
At first, just one.
Then another.
And another.
Black figures.
Silent. Waiting.
Each one with sharp claws, elongated skulls, and glistening teeth.
His true family.
"You hunt Spider-Totems," Peter said, his smile widening. "But I hunt you."
"Gwen" took a step back.
She could feel it.
The presence of something far worse than anything she had encountered.
Peter wasn't prey.
He wasn't a victim.
He was a hunter.
And now, the hunter had found her.
"You want to lock onto my universe?" Peter murmured, his voice almost gentle.
"Good. That means I'll know exactly where to find you."
The dream world cracked.
The bodies of the fallen Spider-Men dissolved into nothing.
But the shadows remained.
Waiting.
Watching.
The last thing "Gwen" saw before the dream shattered—
Was Peter Parker, standing among his monsters.
And smiling.
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