Rain hammered the broken skyline of Brooklyn like the world itself was trying to wash away its sins. Neon lights flickered weakly through the downpour, casting ghostly reflections on the flooded streets. Sirens were long gone. Law was a memory. Hope? Buried.
This was Earth-42.
A world without Spider-Man.
At least… that's what they believed.
Until tonight.
Beneath the glowing haze of a ruined billboard, six shadows cornered a lone figure in the heart of the city. The Sinister Six—reborn through chaos—stood united behind a single leader cloaked in purple, his gauntlets crackling with venomous electricity.
The Prowler.
His voice was sharp, spitting through the storm.
"Why can't you just die!"
The figure in the center didn't flinch.
Steam rose from his armored shoulders as rain sizzled on impact. His chestplate—emblazoned with a jagged white spider—gleamed like a beacon of defiance. A gray hood clung to his soaked mask, shadows hiding the exhaustion in his breath.
Then came the answer.
Calm. Defiant. Unbreakable.
"Because…"
He raised his head.
The blue glow of his eyes cut through the dark like fire in the void.
"I'm Spider-Man."
A second passed.
Then the city exploded into motion.