EX Origin of Spider-Man

A floating sensation, drifting in drowsiness, I begin to awaken.

No… that’s not right. It’s the other way around.

Slowly, I sink deeper and deeper.

Into the dream… immersing myself in it.

As if I were truly there.

Before I know it, I pass through the darkness, and a scene unfolds before my eyes.

…Is this sight I see now reality, or a dream?

I know the answer.

This is a dream.

Because I’m watching myself from a bird’s-eye view.

And… I recognize the scene before me.

This is the New York Science Museum.

And there I am—still young, wearing glasses.

This is me, right after entering Midtown High… five years ago.

The time when I was still just Peter Parker.

I look at the radiation projector, my heart racing. That day, they were conducting a live experiment.

When the experiment began, a spider dangled down on a thin thread, caught inside the projector.

The museum staff didn’t notice and activated the machine… bathing the spider in radiation.

It was a trick of fate. Not necessity, but pure chance.

As the spider emitted heat and light… in the moment before its life ended, it bit the nearest living thing.

That was—

"Ow…!"

Me, Peter Parker.

With a piercing headache, my vision spun as I collapsed.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but the serum created by the irradiated spider had seeped into my blood.

It rewrote my blood, reshaped my body… and filled me with an unknown energy.

Yes, what happened then was destiny. Both chance and inevitability.

A preordained event—a canon event.

Unconscious, I was carried away by Oscorp employees, the organizers of the experiment. They reassured Norman Osborn, the anxious president, that everything was fine, then left the scene.

In truth, my body was surging with violent, unknown energy, ready to burst apart.

Distracted by the changes in my body, I failed to notice the approaching car on the street. At the blare of its horn, I leapt aside with all my strength.

The driver never realized it, but it was a miraculous leap. Even I was shocked.

I had jumped several meters, and one of my hands clung to a wall.

Like a spider.

"Eh… what’s happening…?"

Creak—the wall groaned. Without realizing it, I had applied too much strength and shattered the bricks beneath my hand.

"Uwah!?"

I fell straight to the ground. From that height, I should’ve broken bones—

But nothing of the sort happened. I rolled onto the ground unscathed.

Lying in the alley, staring up at the sky, I thought—

This is a miracle.

This power is a blessing given to me. How I use it, what I do with it… it’s my choice.

From that day on, I decided to stop being just Peter Parker.

When I returned home, Aunt May and Uncle Ben were waiting for me, worried.

"Peter, your clothes are filthy. Did something happen?"

"No, I just tripped a little, Uncle. I’m not hurt, so it’s fine."

"If that’s the case… well, alright then."

They’re far too good for me. Even though I’m not their real son… they worry for me like I am their own child.

I suddenly thought— I want to repay them.

What could I do? I decided I’d make money. I wanted Aunt May and Uncle Ben to live a better life.

And so—

At first, it was pure.

---

I entered an underground wrestling competition with prize money, disguised as a masked fighter.

A red mask, just painted with a spider. A hooded sweatshirt. Plain blue jeans.

My ring name: Spider-Man.

A simple name, without any twist—because I had the power of a spider.

Naturally, no one could match me. Not a washed-up boxer, not even a muscle-bound thug.

I made a fortune there… and gave Aunt May and Uncle Ben gifts.

Aunt May was delighted. Uncle Ben was too.

But then, Uncle Ben… as if realizing something, took me out shopping, just the two of us. On the way back, in the car, he spoke.

"I want to talk."

"Talk? Does it have to be now?"

"Yes, now. Because Peter… lately, you’re hardly ever home, are you?"

"…Maybe not."

"Exactly. May’s been worried. And so have I."

"…………"

"Then suddenly, you bring us gifts. Those must’ve cost a fair bit."

I clammed up without meaning to. Uncle Ben turned his gaze toward me.

"Peter, are you hiding something?"

"…What do you mean? I don’t know what you’re talking about."

I had no intention of telling them about my powers. I didn’t want to drag them into it. I didn’t want them to fear me. I didn’t want them to see me as a freak.

No matter what excuse I made, the truth was… I was just afraid.

Afraid of ruining the life I had.

"I see…"

He didn’t know what I was hiding. But Uncle Ben still looked pained. Just the fact that I was keeping secrets hurt him.

"Uncle…?"

"Peter, listen."

Uncle Ben looked me straight in the eyes. In them, I saw a firm resolve.

"Hiding things isn’t evil. I had times like that too. I even went through experiences similar to yours."

"…It’s not the same."

The words slipped out. Uncle Ben didn’t get angry—his brows just lowered in sorrow.

He couldn’t truly understand what it felt like, having this kind of power. That’s what I thought.

But even so, Uncle Ben continued speaking to me.

"Peter, your future will be decided by the choices you make now. What you do, how you change… that determines the kind of person you’ll become."

He pointed at my chest.

"I won’t ask how you’re making money. But… you’ve gained some great power, haven’t you? Whether it’s wisdom, ideas, connections… something."

"…………"

We’d long since arrived home. Yet neither of us made a move to get out of the car.

"But how you use that power… that must be thought through carefully. The fact you won’t tell me or May… means there’s guilt in it, doesn’t it?"

"That is…"

I couldn’t deny it.

If Uncle Ben and Aunt May knew I was making money by beating people up, they’d never look kindly on it.

"Listen well, and don’t forget this. With great power comes great responsibility. Just because you’re stronger, or in a higher position than someone else… that doesn’t mean you have the right to hit them."

"…Uncle, are you—"

Sitting in the passenger seat, I clasped my hands tightly in my lap.

"Are you saying you think I’d become some kind of criminal?"

"…No, that’s not what I mean."

"Then stop lecturing me. Can’t you just trust me…?"

My heart was dark, clouded, chaotic.

I was the one keeping secrets, yet I couldn’t bear being suspected by Uncle Ben.

"I’m not trying to lecture you. It’s just… you’re not my son, but I—"

"If I’m not your son, then stop acting like my father…!"

…It was a slip of the tongue.

I hadn’t meant to say something like that.

But once spoken, words can’t be taken back. In a panic, I tried to deny them.

When I looked at Uncle Ben’s face, it was filled with deep sorrow.

"…I’m sorry, Uncle."

"No, it’s fine… No, you’re right. I was the one at fault."

"That’s not—"

My eyes caught on the watch on my wrist.

…Not good, it was time.

I had become famous in underground wrestling, and today, I’d been invited to a television station.

I had to go… but still, and yet—

"…Uncle, I have somewhere I need to be."

"…I see. You’ll be home late, then?"

"…Yeah, don’t save me any dinner."

Saying that, I got out of the car.

No— I ran away.

I couldn’t stand it, I was ashamed… so I fled.

I rushed into the house, grabbed my backpack from my room, and went out again.

Uncle Ben was still sitting in the car.
…Maybe he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

I averted my eyes, forcing myself not to look at him… and left the scene behind.

That… was the last time I ever saw Uncle Ben alive.

---

The TV taping went well. Everyone praised me. They said I was amazing.

But deep down… darker feelings churned. Anxiety, regret…

"…When I get home, I'll apologize to Uncle Ben."

Yeah — with the money I got… I'll buy a cake for Uncle and Aunt and go home. Thinking that made it impossible to wait. It was already past evening, but if I hurried the bakery should still be open. If I hurried, I could make it.

While I was thinking that, I heard a voice from a short distance away.

"That's a thief! Catch him!"

… I let that man go. I was busy too… it wasn't my business.

And so I made a choice I would regret for the rest of my life. Selfish Peter Parker—though Uncle Ben had told me—did not fulfill "great responsibility."

Uncle died. He was killed by the robber I let pass.

I still dream it, over and over. The robber walking past right in front of me. Me, pretending not to see him and letting him go. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over!

No matter how many people I save, no matter how many thank me, that regret doesn't fade. It's my sin.

Uncle Ben is dead. I can't apologize.

Uncle used to say, "Who you will become is decided by who you are now. What you do, how you change… that's how you'll live from now on."

Yeah, he's right. At that time I couldn't change. I didn't change. That's why I lived trying desperately to change, to become different.

I helped a lot of people. I protected a lot of people. I fought, I saved, I fought. I kept fulfilling "great responsibility" while my body was falling apart. Always. Always. Always. Always. Always.

"Pete!"

In the pouring rain, my vision blurred… I looked up at the sky like I did back then. A brown-skinned boy's face came into view.

"Ugh… cough… cough…"

I coughed up blood and writhed. My ribs were broken. My body felt like it was on fire. And yet my hands and feet were terribly cold… they wouldn't move. I could distinctly feel the presence of death. I guessed my limit was near.

"Pete, I'm calling an ambulance right now…!"

"No… it's… fine… it's fine now…"

I wouldn't make it. I already knew. I was going to die. I was going to die. So before I died, there were a few things I had to say to him.

"Is she… okay?"

"Y-yeah… she's fine, thanks to you, Pete."

"I see… that's good…"

One regret eased. I turned my head and saw the house where I had grown up burning. It made me a little sad, but if Aunt and she were safe… that was enough. If they're alive, that's enough.

I took off my battered mask.

"…Miles."

I called the boy in front of me by name. Miles Morales. The boy bitten by the genetically altered spider created by the researcher who stole my blood… who gained the same powers as me. He doesn't want superpowers. He wants to be an ordinary person. I had been teaching him how to control that power. So I knew he didn't want to become a superhero.

But the look in his eyes—full of regret—was the same. I know that look well. It's the same as mine when I couldn't save my uncle.

He's kind. That's why he thinks, "I should have been able to save him." I understand. I understood it.

So—

"…It's not your fault."

"But—"

No matter how much I told him not to worry, he would. If that's the case, what he needed wasn't consolation. It was responsibility. A way to atone to ease his guilt.

I pressed my mask into Miles' hands.

"Pete…?"

He hesitated. But—

"You… take my place…"

This is a curse. It's not a blessing. I know that. It's a chain that will bind him. But it's a necessary curse if he is to forgive himself from now on.

"You're going to become 'Spider-Man.'"

"Me...?"

I swallowed the blood that had pooled in my mouth, and then I nodded.

"That regret you're feeling right now... so you never have to feel it again..."

Miles took the mask I had been holding. Tears slipped from his eyes.

"...Miles, just remember this one thing: 'With great power comes great responsibility'..."

"...Yeah."

He wiped at his eyes.

"...I'll—I'll take Pete's place... and protect this city."

His eyes were no longer frightened. They were the eyes of a hero facing his own 『great power』 and his 『great responsibility』.

I smiled faintly. Ah—I'm relieved.

"...Anyone can be a hero if they put the mask on. All it takes is a strong will in your heart."

My hands wouldn't stay steady and the mask slipped to the ground. Breathing was getting hard.

I was at my limit.

"Ah, ah..."

Miles panicked, looking like he'd dropped something important.

I gave a crooked smile and narrowed my eyes. A dim haze blurred my vision.

I could see less and less.

"...One last thing—may I leave a message?"
"Y-yeah! I'll definitely tell her..."

"To my...girlfriend..."

Her face flashed through my mind.

"To MJ..."

To the woman who had always supported me.

"To Mary Jane..."

My beloved with the 『red hair』.

"...Tell her that she was—my 'greatest treasure jackpot'...please...tell her..."

The rain pounded my eardrums. I saw Miles nodding over and over.

...Good. That alone was enough for me to go in peace.

I closed my eyes.

Voices drifted away.

The sound of the rain grew distant.

It wasn’t a life I could celebrate unreservedly.

But it wasn’t a bad life either.

I was able to help a lot of people.

There were times I couldn’t help.

Still, I never broke—I kept doing my best to help others.

I’m sure Uncle Ben would be… glad.

Ah, that’s right.

If I get over there, I’ll apologize for what happened back then.

…Ah, it all worked out.

Everything worked out.

If I can die having saved someone I love, then that’s surely a blessing.

But… I’m sorry, MJ.

Please—don’t forgive me for leaving you behind.

Be angry at my selfishness.

And then… please love someone else, anyone but me.

…Heh, what a thing to put in a will.

If I’d left this as my last word, you’d probably be mad enough to walk away from me for good.

That would’ve been a little regretful, I guess.

…I’m scared of dying.

But I have no regrets.

This might get a little boring, but MJ… I want you to hear this.

I keep having the same dream over and over.

The dream of the day Uncle Ben died.

The time I let the thief get away.

I see it so vividly… so real.

It’s like I’m there.

I try to stop the thief—but my body won’t move.

And it always ends the same way.

But… don’t worry.

It’s different now.

Next time—surely—

I will—surely—

it will be a good dream.

---

I kicked the futon off and sat up.

"...Hah...hah!?"

I panted and looked down. Sweat traced across my bare chest. …I’d been dreaming. A dream so real it felt like I actually died.

At first it matched my past exactly. But partway through it shifted… and in the end—

"Ugh..."

I covered my mouth with my hand. I remembered the pain that had filled my whole body. I remembered the cold at the edge of death. …It felt awful. Why did I have a dream like that—of me dying—of all things!?

"...Mmm...Peter...?"

Michelle, who’d been sleeping right beside me, fidgeted and leaned against me.

"...Michelle."

She rubbed her sleepy eyes and opened her mouth to me.

"...Are you okay?"

Her voice sounded worried. I shook my head.

"...No, I’m fine. I just had a scary dream."

I wasn’t really fine. My hands were shaking and my heart still hammered.

"...Peter."

Michelle hugged me. Her soft skin touched mine. I felt her warmth, her heartbeat.

"...It’s okay...I’ll protect you, Peter..."

"Michelle..."

I felt ashamed—ashamed that I’d made her say that. If she says she’ll protect me, then I’ll protect her too. We’re equals—partners.

I hugged her back.

"...Michelle, I—"

"...guh, sss..."

"...Michelle?"

"......"

"...Huh?"

She’d fallen asleep. I let out a little laugh and laid her down on the bed. She’d been exhausted from yesterday; she must’ve hit her limit. Can’t be helped. I felt bad for waking her in the middle of the night.

Watching her sleeping face chased away the fear in my chest. I stroked her hair and lay down beside her.

That dream from before—so vivid it might as well have been real. I remembered what Michelle mentioned and the words Stephen had said. Dreams are a world of possibilities. They’re a multiverse of parallel worlds born from tiny differences in choice.

If so, then the dream I just saw was one possible future of mine.

But why? Why did such a vivid parallel-multiverse show up in a dream?

I shifted my gaze to my lover Michelle’s innocent sleeping face. Her eyes—Stephen said—are eyes that can even look across the parallel-multiverse.

If that’s what affected my dream...?

If that’s true, then what does it mean?

I won’t push her away. I won’t make her afraid over something like this. But it’s dangerous if that power affects other people. It would mean the seal on her eyes is weakening.

I should consult Stephen, Doctor Strange. He periodically reseals her 'Observer / Watcher’s Eye.'

And yet, now—if the seal is gradually becoming meaningless, if her 'eye' is slowly growing stronger, if her 'eye' is drawing danger into this world—

No matter what happens, I’m on her side.

Even if she becomes something that attracts crises to the world, I’ll repel those crises. No matter what anyone says, I alone will remain on her side.

As her "friendly neighborhood," that’s one thing I won't give up. I’m prepared for that.

Whatever happens… I will protect her.

Holding my fragile girl, I fell asleep.