Chapter Text
EPISODE 1 — Spidey's Return: Still Standing on the Rubble
New York.
Rain.
Petty thieves.
And, as always, the half-soaked red mask drops from above.
“Hey! Didn’t they say no coffee for knife-wielding thugs?”
Peter Parker.
He was hanging upside down—again. Just like always.
The two crooks screamed in sync and bolted.
One web would’ve done it. Two? Even cleaner.
Thwip—Thwip.
Crash. Splat.
Perfect timing.
“Spider-Man has appeared again.”
“Even after the Avengers disappeared, he’s the only one still left…”
The news broadcast kept its somber tone.
But Peter just squatted on the cold rooftop ledge, watching it quietly.
In his hand: a Stark Industries card.
One swipe and the reply was always, “Account suspended.”
Useless.
“No balance. No lectures. Nothing left.”
He smirked bitterly.
Then—
A pause.
His eyebrow twitched slightly.
“…So why the hell am I still here?”13
He asked it out loud—
And immediately realized…
It sounded like something Cap or Tony might've once said.
“Guess it’s because no one else is left.
If not me… then really, no one.”
He fired a web.
As the thin line sliced across the cityscape,
something between duty and stubbornness flowed through it—still intact.
LIVE on The Daily Bugle
J. Jonah Jameson:
“Spider-Man? He’s a walking disaster. A soggy bug on a rainy day!
And now these kids are calling themselves the ‘Young Avengers’?
What do you get when you throw a bunch of reckless teens together?
Trouble. That’s what!”
Peter (watching the TV, mutters):
“Still cleaning up that trouble, old man.”
Avengers? Nah.
“I’m just… someone still standing in what’s left.”
EPISODE 2 — Clash with Ant-Man: "So Who Picks the Leader?"
Peter was clinging to a wall, lowering a thread of webbing as he whispered to himself.
“Strange. No sign of explosives, and the thief? No emotion.
Something here smells… complicated.”
“You talk to yourself while investigating?”
A sudden voice behind him.
Peter spun around and instinctively shot a web—
But the target had already shrunk.
Ant-sized.
Scott Lang, perched behind a battery.
Ant-Man (Scott):
“Y’know, usually people cheer when I show up. You? You’re throwing webs.”
“You’re Spider-Man? Talkative.”
“You’re Ant-Man? Tiny.”
“Hah, wow. That’s some real mature banter.”
Peter swiped through broken CCTV footage.
Scott deployed his ant drone to retrieve data fragments.
Different methods. Same goal.
“There’s a trace of chemical residue. We should follow it.”
“Or we can just track the hacked tower logs and trace the IP. Digital is cleaner.”
And then—
they both spoke at once.
“I got this.”
“I’ll lead.”
Silence.
[Scene: Conflicted Methods, Chaotic Results]
Chemical tracking met digital hacking…
and collided.
Power outage.
Locked doors.
Sprinklers triggered.
Now they looked like soaked rodents.
“Great teamwork,” Peter said, peeling off his soggy mask.
Scott chuckled, removing his drenched helmet.
“Are we even a team?”
[Outside the building, under a streetlamp]
The two sat side by side in silence.
Eventually, Peter spoke.
“…I was always the one following orders, y’know?
Someone would lead. Tell me what to do.
Now? No one’s left.”
Scott turned to him.
“Same. I was better at raising a kid than leading a team.
But these days, this place has worse brats than my daughter ever was.”
Peter smirked.
“You mean me?”
“Maybe… 50% you.”
They laughed.
As they picked up their masks and helmets—
Peter added,
“At least teams are about winning, right?”
Scott shook his head.
“No. Teams survive by not falling apart.”
[Daily Bugle Headlines]
“New Breed of Terror—No Explosions, Yet the City Shuts Down”
“Post-Avengers, Who’s Protecting the Streets?”
“Maybe we’re not really a team.
But weirdly enough…
it’s less lonely than fighting alone.”
EPISODE 3 — Deadpool’s Proposal: “Tired of Order. Tired of Chaos.”
Silence.
Then—BANG!
A burst of smoke, like fireworks. Confetti rained down.
‘HI. I’M NEW HERE :)’
“Ta-da! New hero on the scene—Deadpool, at your service~!”
A man in a full red suit leaped out with flair.
Three museum guards were already face-down on the floor.
The thieves. The guests. Everyone was frozen in confusion.
But the most surprised?
Mysterio, watching secretly through hacked CCTV.
Mysterio (over comms):
“…Why is he even there?
I scouted him for our side, not… a gallery ambush!”
“Hey there! You the bad guy of the day?
If we’re fighting, please mind your hands, feet, and emotional arcs.”
Even mid-battle, Deadpool posed for selfies.
One attacker kicked him. Another struck from behind—
Instead of screaming, he narrated like a nature documentary:
“You’re watching Deadpool in the wild. Notice the reflexes.
Strikes may be met with counterstrikes. Mood swings included. Be advised.”
After everyone hit the floor, with only smoke left in the room,
Deadpool slumped down without removing his mask.
For a moment—he was quiet.
“…Order. Chaos.
Sick of both.”
“I just… wanted someone to call for me.”
[Mysterio, watching from afar]
Mysterio (whispers):
“You’ve always been like that.
But this time, I’ll call you properly.
With a contract and everything.”
He shut off his comms.
“You’re one of us.
You just don’t know it yet.”
[The Daily Bugle Headline]
“Another Masked Man—This Time with Fireworks”
“Is New York Really Okay?”
“Hero? Don’t care.
But sometimes… when someone actually needs me,
I don’t mind showing up.
That’s gotta count for something.”
EPISODE 4 — The First Failed Mission: “One Plan. Three Mouths.”
A web sliced across the tiled roof.
Spidey landed softly.
Distant sirens. Quiet wind.
But here—dead silence.
Peter (whispers):
“Third-floor window shattered.
No alarm.
Suspicious truck around back.
Yep. Something stinks.”
He slid down the outer wall with barely a sound.
The mission was simple:
“Scout. Infiltrate. Secure the weapons. Get out clean.”
In theory.
Tiny ants swarmed below.
At their center: a shrunken Ant-Man, riding on one of them.
He was mid-briefing.
“Back door’s clear.
Four crates of weapons.
Ants confirmed all of it.
…Also, pretty sure I’m the smartest one here.
Is that just me?”
He returned to full size and radioed in.
“Peter, I’m in position.
You?”
“Perfect. I’ll go in from above.
You circle around the truck.
Keep it quiet. Clean. Like a team.”
The plan was solid—until—
BOOM!
The warehouse wall exploded.
Through the smoke, a man strolled in.
Deadpool.
“Teamwork? Sounds delicious.
Me? I just used the front door!”
He had an RPG on one shoulder and a selfie stick in the other.
Chaos erupted instantly.
The criminals scattered.
The “team”… did not.
Peter:
“I’ll go inside! Ant-Man, cover the rear! Deadpool—”
Deadpool:
“Deadpool what? Don’t bark orders, webhead.
I ain’t in your army.”
Ant-Man:
“Also, by the way? You didn’t even ask for my input during that ‘briefing’.”
Peter:
“I’m just saying—this would work if we stick to the plan—”
Deadpool (mocking):
“‘Stick to the plan~’ Oh, sure, boss man. Why don’t you solo it then?
Clearly, this team isn’t my vibe.”
Ant-Man:
“So… who exactly is the leader here?”
Peter:
“…Can we just go?”
Deadpool:
“‘Just go~’ Wow. Putting that one on a t-shirt.”
(Deadpool pulls out a gun → Peter reflexively web-shoots → Deadpool’s arm gets tangled.)
Deadpool:
“Bro, was that a surprise armpit waxing?!”
Ant-Man:
“This is the worst team dynamic I’ve ever seen.”
Peter (snaps):
“Fine! Then fight alone!”
At that moment—
The weapon crates blew up.
Explosion. Smoke. Collapse.
The trio was flung in three different directions.
Peter sat in silence, mask halfway off.
Ant-Man was wringing water out of his suit.
Deadpool lay flat, staring at the ceiling.
“…What the hell was that?”
“Nothing worked.
We wrecked the warehouse, the comms, the plan…
and my ego.”
Deadpool groaned.
“Still, all three of us made it out.
Wasn’t trying to… but, hey.”
[LIVE on The Daily Bugle]
Jameson (anchor voice):
“Today in a Brooklyn warehouse, three unidentified masked individuals caused a fiery mess.
A spider. An ant. And… something red I can’t even classify.”
(footage of the trio staggering out plays)
“They call themselves ‘heroes.’
So let me ask you, folks—
Does that word mean anything anymore?”
The smoke cleared.
Only half the criminals were caught.
Public opinion? Worse than before.
Deadpool was already humming as he walked off.
Ant-Man grumbled as he collected his ants.
Peter stayed behind.
Half-wearing a broken mask, standing before a collapsed wall.
Peter (inner monologue):
“I know I’m not a hero.
Probably better than anyone.
…So why do I keep showing up?”