Location: Nexus Loom (Sacred Webbed Core, beneath Mount Wundagore)
Time Remaining Until Multiversal Collapse: 43:00:59
Previously…
Peter faced the Reader itself—and chose truth over rewrite.
The Web trembled with recognition.
But deeper still, beyond stories, beneath even memory—
The Source of the Spell awaited.
And it was... waking up.
Act 1: A Map in the Static
Peter sat on the rooftop, the wind still humming with leftover narrative voltage.
Deadpool was unconscious, snoring loudly in a pile of "self-insert fanfic" pages.
Billy sniffed the air, bleated once, then looked toward the east.
Miguel stood beside Peter, holding a data-pad that glitched every few seconds.
"This signal," he said, "it's older than anything in the Loom. Older than the Web. It's not multiversal—it's pre-narrative."
Peter frowned. "So, before canon?"
Miguel nodded. "Before canon had rules. Before characters belonged."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "You mean like... public domain Spider-Man?"
Deadpool (half-asleep): "Please no more Dickensian web-slinging."
Miguel zoomed in on the signal.
"It's coming from Mount Wundagore."
Peter exhaled.
That mountain had always been a magical hotspot.
Scarlet Witch territory. Chaos magic.
The birthplace of rules rewritten.
Billy glowed briefly, bleated, and launched skyward.
Time to follow the goat.
Act 2: Descent into the Webbed Core
Mount Wundagore wasn't just a mountain—it was a cross-section of narrative physics.
As they descended, the air shimmered. Dialogue bubbles appeared randomly.
Ambient music from Peter's past adventures played faintly in the stone.
One wall displayed a scratched-out "Previously in Spider-Man…" banner.
Every tunnel told part of his story.
And then—they reached it.
The Nexus Loom.
The beating heart of every spider-thread.
A spindle the size of a skyscraper.
Web-lines pulsed from it like nerve endings.
Each thread represented a version of Peter.
Some brilliant. Some broken. Some brutal.
And one—
One was missing.
Miguel pointed.
"That thread right there. The empty one."
Peter: "That's mine, isn't it?"
Miguel: "The one that got severed when the spell was cast."
Peter touched the anchor point.
It fizzed.
It hurt.
And from the base of the Loom, something stirred.
Act 3: The Source of the Spell
A doorway formed—pure chaos magic.
Deadpool peeked in. "Knock knock! Anyone home? Wanda? Agnes? Dormammu doing improv?"
Silence.
Then: laughter.
Not evil laughter.
Delighted, amused, terrifyingly neutral laughter.
A figure emerged.
Shimmering robes of undefined color.
Eyes like forgotten fonts.
A voice made of author's notes and alternate takes.
"Ah, Peter. The Variable Constant. The Favorite Rewrite. The One We Keep Hurting Because You Keep Surviving."
Peter stepped forward.
"Are you the Source?"
"Not the. Just a. I'm the spellcaster. I built the structure. On request."
Peter: "Whose request?"
The Source blinked.
"Yours."
Act 4: The Truth of the Spell
Peter recoiled.
Miguel: "That's not possible."
Deadpool: "Ooh plot twist! That's a Season 3-level twist right there."
The Source raised a hand and summoned a memory:
Peter—just after May's death.
After Strange's spell.
Alone.
Broken.
Desperate.
In that forgotten moment, Peter whispered not to Strange—but to the Web itself.
"Let them forget. Let them be safe. Even if I'm not in the story anymore."
Peter stared, eyes wide.
He had unknowingly bound his wish into the Loom.
Not magic.
Not sorcery.
Narrative self-erasure.
Miguel looked away.
Deadpool muttered, "Man, that's... heavy. Like, Logan-finale-level heavy."
Peter: "So this wasn't Strange's doing."
The Source: "Strange channeled it. But the thread began with you."
Act 5: The Choice
Peter fell silent.
Billy walked over and nudged him.
The Source spread its arms.
"You can reclaim the thread. Rebind yourself into the story. They will remember. MJ. Ned. Everyone."
Peter looked at the Loom.
And then at the cost.
Rewriting the Web could unravel the current stability.
The memory capsule holding the Unwritten would break.
The Reader might return.
Billy might cease to exist entirely.
But Peter would no longer be alone.
Miguel stepped forward. "It's your call."
Deadpool: "No pressure. Just the fate of every conceivable narrative attached to your name."
Peter closed his eyes.
Time stretched.
Then—
"No."
He smiled.
"I chose this. And I'll carry it. So they don't have to."
The Source tilted its head.
"Then you remain Unfriended."
Peter: "No. Just... Unseen. But not unloved."
Act 6: A New Thread Woven
The Source vanished.
The Loom adjusted.
A new thread appeared—not labeled.
Not red or blue.
Just real.
And it connected to Peter.
Not through memory.
But through legacy.
Deadpool clapped. "Well, that was beautiful. And confusing. Like a Christopher Nolan brunch."
Miguel nodded. "You anchored a new constant."
Billy bleated… and faded.
Just slightly.
Peter caught him.
The goat looked at him. A final thank you in his eyes.
Peter: "Go. Find a better story."
And Billy leapt—into a tear in the Web—and was gone.
Epilogue: Back in the City
A new day dawned.
Peter walked the streets of New York.
No one knew him.
But everyone felt something.
Like deja vu when he passed.
A whisper in their hearts:
We used to know him.
We used to love him.
We still do. Somehow.
At a bodega, a kid wore a hand-made Spider-Man shirt.
Peter smiled and handed over a $5 bill.
The kid stared at him.
"Hey… do I know you?"
Peter grinned. "Nah. I just get that a lot."
And he walked away.
Alone.
But no longer erased.