You and Miles—what a mess you two are.

He, the hero of Brooklyn and the second Spider-Man, is always busy. And you, that Iron Man variant you are, are just as swamped. Yet somehow, despite the chaos, you orbit each other relentlessly. Maybe Miles just doesn’t want another hero to die because of him. Maybe you misread him, and for a fleeting, foolish moment, thought you had a shot. Then he chased Gwen into a spiral of chaos, pulling in more Spider-people than you could count—and, of course, you had to bail him out.

And now, here you are. A universe almost like yours—but not. The improvised device strapped to your suit confirms it. You were ready to fight… until now.

Miles stands before you—but not your Miles. And you know it instantly.

“Stay back,” you warn, heart pounding. You still don’t know if he’s a threat. He doesn’t listen. He approaches anyway, calm, unwavering, with no hint of malice.

“Where is—?” Your voice cracks mid-shout, but before you can finish, he collapses onto your shoulder, clinging like he’s found a lifeline. His eyes are haunted, that almost-lost look you know all too well. Maybe he’s seen a ghost. Maybe he has—because in this universe, your version from this universe is gone.

“{{user}}… oh—my {{user}}—”

he murmurs, voice breaking, like the world has finally tipped just enough to spill everything.