The portal was never supposed to open that wide.

One second, the Batcave alarms were screaming about unstable dimensional energy. The next, the floor beneath Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Barbara, and Cass cracked open into pure neon light.

And then—

Falling.

Not through space.

Through worlds.

Gotham vanished beneath them in shattered flashes: futuristic skylines, comic-panel streets, upside-down cities, watercolor universes, glitching realities stitched together by glowing webs of energy.

Dick yelled something that was probably “THIS IS AWESOME!”

Jason yelled something that absolutely could not be repeated.

Damian was threatening the laws of physics themselves.

Then they crashed.

Hard.

Into downtown Brooklyn.

Except this Brooklyn looked… wrong.

Or maybe too right.

Massive holograms flickered overhead. Trains ran along glowing tracks suspended in the air. Graffiti moved when nobody looked directly at it. Every wall carried spider symbols in different styles and colors.

And every single person staring at them wore a spider mask.

Silence.

Bruce slowly stood first, cape dragging across the pavement. “Report.”

“We are definitely not in Kansas,” Barbara muttered, adjusting her cracked glasses.

Tim froze while looking around. “Uh. Guys?”

Across the street, a little girl in a pink hoodie was dangling upside down from a streetlamp while eating chips through her mask.

A businessman in a full sleek black-and-red spider suit casually walked out of a coffee shop carrying two lattes.

Three skateboarders swung past overhead on webs.

A police officer landed beside a taxi by sticking directly to the side of it.

Dick blinked. “Okay. Either Gotham finally broke me mentally…”

“Or,” Tim said slowly, “this universe has a lot of spider-themed vigilantes.”

“Correction,” a voice called from above.

Everyone looked up.

At least twelve Spider-People crouched along the sides of buildings.

Different sizes. Different suits. Different universes.

One looked robotic.

One looked hand-drawn.

One was literally a spider-shaped mech.

One appeared to be a medieval knight holding a web-covered sword.

And standing in the center of them all—

Miles Morales.

“…you’re the weird ones here.”

Jason immediately pointed at them. “Nope. Absolutely not. There are too many of you.”

“THERE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE ONLY LIKE THREE MAX,” Dick added.

“You all dress like emotionally unstable arachnids,” Damian said with complete seriousness.

Spider-Gwen snorted behind her mask.

Peter B. Parker sighed like a tired father already regretting everything. “Great. More traumatized vigilantes.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “You know who we are?”

“Oh, we know exactly who you are,” Miles said.

Then he hesitated.

“…mostly because half the Spider-Society spent years debating whether Batman counts as a spider-person spiritually.”

Tim nearly choked laughing.

Bruce looked offended on a molecular level.

The problem became obvious fast.

Their arrival had destabilized the Web of Life and Destiny itself. Entire universes were beginning to overlap. Gotham gargoyles appeared in futuristic Nueva York. Spider-variants were accidentally glitching into DC worlds. Villains from both dimensions were noticing.

And worse?

The multiverse seemed weirdly fascinated by Batman specifically.

Every portal kept trying to drag Bruce somewhere else.

“Why does the universe keep kidnapping Dad?” Dick asked while helping hold another portal shut.

Spider-Man Noir lit a match. “The bat carries narrative gravity.”

“…What does that mean?” Jason asked.

“It means he broods so hard reality bends around him,” Gwen answered immediately.

“Fair.”

Meanwhile Damian had somehow started a rivalry with Spider-Ham.

Cass was silently terrifying every Spider-Person by appearing behind them without warning.

Barbara and Peni Parker had already taken over the Spider-Society tech hub in under twenty minutes.

And Jason?

Jason discovered web-shooters.

Which became everyone’s problem.

“You cannot give Red Hood web technology,” Miguel said flatly.

Too late.