I died.At 17.Just an ordinary college student, with ordinary dreams and a... normal life. At least, as normal as it gets in a country rotten with corruption, where cops were insulted more than respected, and crime was as common as sunrise.How did I die? Doesn't matter.What matters is I didn't end up in Heaven, or Hell.I ended up here.
When I opened my eyes, the room wasn't mine. The ceiling was different. Older. More... American. The bed creaked in a different way. And my body... my body hurt. Like I'd been plugged into a car battery and left to vibrate like a damn phone.I looked at my hands. Slimmer, but strong. I flexed my arm and felt power coursing through muscles I didn't have before. This reminded me of a certain superhero... wait, no. Impossible.No.It couldn't be.
I jumped to my feet and ran to the grimy mirror hanging on the wall. What I saw knocked the air out of me.A teenager with brown hair, built like an Olympic athlete, stared back at me, looking just as freaked out as I felt.I panicked. That wasn't my face. Not even my hair color.I reached out to the mirror—and the teen in the mirror copied me.It confirmed what I feared.The person in the mirror...Was me.I touched my face. My jaw. My hair. I was right. This wasn't my body.
Panicking, I began searching for anything that could tell me where I was. I found a wallet with an ID inside. But when I saw the name, I froze."No way..." I whispered, heart racing.
I spotted some notebooks on the desk beside an old computer. I opened them, and they all had the same name as the ID.
Peter Benjamin Parker.
I was in Spider-Man's body.A scream of excitement climbed up my throat… and crashed into a wall of fear.Because yeah, this was awesome—and terrifying.
Peter Parker had been my hero since I was a kid. More than that. He and Barry Allen were my idols.Men who ran toward danger when the world told them to run away.And now… I was him.
But before I freaked out or started jumping on walls, I needed a plan.Still, there was one thing every Spider-Man fan would do in my place.I looked down at the friend between my legs."Nice," I said, quoting Sung Jinwoo from Sister Leveling.
Okay. Now for the serious part.
What universe was this?I couldn't assume anything. Was it the comics? The MCU? A brand-new one?I sat down at the desk and turned on the old computer.Boxy monitor. Windows XP. Prehistoric browser. I opened Google.News. Tech. Celebrities.Tony Stark Reveals He Is Iron ManDate: May 10, 2008.
I melted into the chair like Itadori during Gojo-sensei's "training."I was in the MCU. And it was 2008.No Avengers.S.H.I.E.L.D. still crawling with HYDRA.No Thanos yet. No Loki. Nothing.
But before I could even process all that information, it hit me.
A searing headache, like someone was drilling into my skull from the inside. I dropped to my knees, gasping, and then—Images.Voices.Feelings.Memories.
Peter's memories.His childhood. His parents. Aunt May. School. The exact moment of the spider bite. The fever. The fear. The wonder.
It took me almost an hour to recover.And when I did, I felt... filthy.Like I'd stepped into something sacred.
But I also felt different.More whole.Like now, he and I were one.
And so, I made a decision.
I would carry on his legacy.Not because I had to.Not because it was the "right thing to do."But because he deserved it.And because this world needed it.
But one thing was clear.I wouldn't be that Spider-Man.
I admired Peter with all my heart, but I always hated his stupid rule."No killing."
Sure, it sounds noble. But in real life, it doesn't work.Lock up the Green Goblin, and a week later he's out again, ten more bodies in his wake.And for what? Because we didn't stop him when we had the chance?
How many lives is one worth?
I grew up in a country where people got murdered for a phone.Where politicians stole the future and the law was a cruel joke.
My father was a cop.Every day, he left the house, and I didn't know if he'd come back.
I was raised in fear.I saw things no child should see.And I learned one thing:
Empathy for those who choose to harm others has a limit.
So no.I wouldn't be like him.I wouldn't kill for fun.But if a monster like Kingpin or the Goblin threatened innocent lives…I wouldn't hesitate.
With that decision made, there was only one thing left:The identity.
I couldn't wear the red and blue.It wouldn't be right.That suit was his.
I needed a different one. One that reflected my path.Red and black.
Two versions of Spider-Man immediately came to mind.
The Assassin Spider-Man.That universe where Peter got tired of playing nice and became a lethal machine of justice. Dark. Menacing.
And Superior Spider-Man—when Otto Octavius, in Peter's body, decided to be more efficient. More strategic. More ruthless.
Both reflected what I wanted to be.
A human warning sign.
I was going to be Spider-Man.Not yours. Mine.