Chapter 105: Amazing Fantasy

I opened my eyes.

The lightbulb was crackling and flickering.

I brushed the futon aside with my hand.

A yawn.

Winter clothes hanging on the wall, carpets... torture devices. A soccer ball–sized eyeball preserved in formalin... an annoyingly ticking metronome. A book bound in some animal’s skin, a wooden staff.

I woke up in a room that looked like a storage warehouse.

...I sniffed the air. It stank a little, mixed with a smell like herbs or medicine.

Climbing down from the dusty sofa, I swung my body side to side. My joints popped and cracked.

I went up the stairs that played a warped melody underfoot, and arrived at the hall.

"…Already leaving, Peter?"

At the top of the stairs stood Stephen, wearing a light coat. In his hand was a mug… coffee.

The one I chose as my "exception" in the contract with Mephisto was Stephen Strange.

I couldn’t choose Gwen or Ned. If I did, there was the risk that Michelle would hear about it. Even if not, it would only force them to carry the pain of lying.

Choosing an "exception" meant choosing a co-conspirator—someone to share my secret.

Whose face did I see in my mind… many came up.

Stephen had said, "I’ll remember." He promised he wouldn’t tell Michelle.

And… he wasn’t that close to me. Compared to others, I had only just met him that day.

That’s exactly why I thought he wouldn’t feel unnecessary pressure.

So I chose Stephen. The trigger was those words, "I’ll remember."

And in the end, that choice turned out to be right. Because after the contract with Mephisto, my soul got left behind in Hell.

He had returned Michelle’s soul, but he never said he’d return me to the real world. If Stephen hadn’t remembered, if he hadn’t pulled me back from Hell… what would have happened to me?

At the very least, I wouldn’t be standing here now.

"…But, staying here forever… it feels like I’m imposing."

I looked up the stairs.

The large round skylight above was inscribed with symbols like a magic circle.

The Sanctum Sanctorum. The base in New York where Stephen lives. It also serves as a barrier to seal away evil entities. Because of that, other sorcerers also visit frequently.

And besides, Stephen is the Sorcerer Supreme, the one tasked with overseeing Kamar-Taj, that faraway holy ground. He’s busy.

I couldn’t think it was right for me to stay here forever.

"It’s not a bother. The real question is… do you even have somewhere to go?"

I averted my eyes.

The honest answer: no. In this world, I don’t have a place at all.

My old apartment room was now listed as vacant. My name had vanished from the school’s student records. When I went to see Aunt May at home, she only said, "Nice to meet you."

It was all gone. Home, family… friends. Everything.

Seeing my face, Stephen sighed.

"…You’re like ‘The Happy Prince.’"

"What’s that?"

I asked back, never having heard the name.

"You don’t know? A fairy tale… I used to read it to my sister."

Stephen smiled as he answered.

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah… I had a sister. A brother, too."

But that smile was shadowed.

…‘Had,’ huh. So they’re gone now.

Stephen looked at me.

"The Happy Prince was a statue made of gold and jewels."

"I’m nothing that impressive."

At my words, Stephen gave a little snort of laughter.

"The statue gave away its jewels and gold to help the poor, until it became shabby and bare."

"…"

"Not caring for itself, wishing only for the happiness of others… That’s what you’re like. Don’t you think so?"

I turned my eyes away.

"…What happens to the statue?"

"The very citizens it helped… melted it down."

What a cruel story. That’s what I thought.

"But in the end—ah, never mind. That’s not the point. I’ve strayed into meaningless talk."

Stephen snapped his fingers. A leather wallet dropped into my hands.

"Use this to live for now."

"Huh? This is…"

"There’s a little money inside."

I opened it… and found it crammed full of bills. Not "a little" at all. So stuffed it was about to burst. Enough to live on for half a year, as long as I didn’t splurge.

"I can’t accept this!"

"Relax. It’s not conjured money—it’s from my own pocket."

"That’s not the issue…"

Even though I refused, he only sighed in exasperation.

"Then think of it as a loan. No interest… just pay me back before I die."

But that’s practically the same as—

I gave up on arguing. Living with Stephen for a few days, I’d learned this much: he never bends once he’s decided. He’s even more stubborn than Stark. Overwhelmingly strong-willed.

And that’s exactly why there’s something I can’t understand.

"…Why are you doing all this for me?"

It had only been a few days since I first met Stephen. He let me stay at his base, and now he was even providing me money for living expenses when I tried to leave on my own.

I didn’t understand why.

"You made your ‘choice’ because I urged you to. And I shared in that ‘choice.’"

"But that was—"

"Every choice comes with a price. And your price comes with my responsibility. You understand that, don’t you?"

Stephen smiled faintly.

"Just as you can’t turn away from helping others, I can’t abandon someone in need."

"…Stephen."

"Don’t be so hard on yourself, Peter. You did the right thing… and I wanted to help. It’s that simple."

I tucked the wallet I’d received into my coat. The clothes I was wearing right now were already things Stephen had prepared for me.

I already owed him a lot. Probably debts so great I could never repay them in my lifetime.

"…Thank you."

"No need. Don’t think anything of it."

Stephen sipped his coffee.

I turned on my heel and headed toward the entrance… but then one thought weighed on me.

With my hand on the doorknob, I glanced back at Stephen.

"Um… Stephen?"

"What is it?"

What I was worried about… was one girl.

"Michelle—"

"She woke up yesterday. Perfectly healthy."

The one I wanted to protect. The one I would sacrifice everything to save.

So when I heard she had awakened, I felt relief from the bottom of my heart.

She’s safe now. I have no regrets left.

"I can’t thank you enough."

"If anything troubles you, come to the Sanctum anytime."

I nodded at Stephen’s words and opened the door.

Michelle is alive. Even without me, she has Gwen, Ned, and Harry.

Even if our paths have diverged, even if they never cross again—if she walks that path full of life and happiness, that alone makes me happy.

That’s right. Everyone has forgotten me… Spider-Man no longer exists. No one remembers my days as a hero.

So was it all for nothing? Was everything I did meaningless?

No. That’s wrong. The people I saved are still alive. The things I wanted to protect are still there. My conviction—those I saved will carry it on.

That alone keeps me standing. I won’t falter.

I am fortunate.

I closed the door behind me.

It was too late to call it sunrise, yet too early to call it noon.

But for me, it was a sunrise. The dawn of a new life.

Leaving the Sanctum Sanctorum, I set off into the city. A city where no one knows who I am…

---

"…Gone, is he."

I finished the coffee in my hand.

Peter Parker.
And Spider-Man.

The only one who remembers his existence… is me.

"…How pitiful."

My gaze stayed fixed on the door he had just walked through.

"You bring happiness to others… but you don’t know how to make yourself happy."

The mug in my hand scattered into shimmering particles of light and vanished.

I closed my eyes. And remembered.

The golden artifact resting against my chest.
The Eye of Agamotto.

The Eye of Agamotto is the ultimate artifact that governs time. It is the proof passed down to each Sorcerer Supreme.

I used it when saving Michelle Jones. By reversing her body’s time, I erased her wounds.

And later… during my conversation with Peter, I used it once more, cloaking it with an illusion.

That time, its purpose was… to peer into the future. I saw countless branching futures—hundreds, thousands. And among them, there was only one "choice" in which Peter survived.

When that accursed Mephisto rewrote reality… Peter had to choose me.

So I planted a suggestion in his mind.

"At the very least… I’ll remember you."

It was an unconscious guide, leading him to the choice I required.
And so, her soul was returned, and Peter was erased from the world.

"…Not my usual style."

It’s true—I was prepared to let Michelle Jones die. There was only one way to save her, and the consequences were immeasurable.

To alter reality, to tamper with time… those disrupt natural law and wound the fabric of space-time itself. Such powers are not to be used recklessly.

So I chose to abandon her. I weighed the life of a single human against the safety of all life in this world.

…But deep down, I wasn’t convinced. I forced my emotions into silence, and I made that choice.

Yet because of Peter’s words… I too made a choice of my own.

I sank into the chair.

I am a doctor. Doctor Strange.

Before being Master of the Mystic Arts, before being Sorcerer Supreme—I am a doctor.

When I became one, I swore it was my mission to save every life I could. That is why… no, it wasn’t simply that his words swayed me.

I made peace with it. I made my own "choice." It is wrong for Peter to think he owes me anything.

As I let out a deep breath… a sound came from behind.

I turned to see a ring of golden sparks forming. The light of a Sling Ring.

The basic technique of sorcerers who bend space—stepping through, someone I knew well appeared.

"Wong."

The librarian of Kamar-Taj… and in my stead, the one managing it while I reside here in New York. Skilled in both martial and mystic arts. A man I trust.

"Strange, come with me."

"…Very well. Let’s go."

I rose from the chair and reached for my coat.

With a twist, it transformed into a bright red cloak. The Cloak of Levitation—an artifact with both will and the power of flight.

Wong noticed the basement door was left ajar and furrowed his brow.

"By the way, that boy?"

That boy… meaning Peter.

"He just left."

"I see… a polite young man."

Wong nodded solemnly. No doubt, he was considering recruiting him into Kamar-Taj.

But he must have realized it was impossible. Wong tilted his head and asked:

"But who exactly was that boy? Strange, what connection do you have to him?"

So he asked.

…The age gap between us was obvious. Naturally, Wong would be curious.

But Spider-Man no longer exists in this world.
There is no way I can explain how we met.

"He is my friend."

And so, that was my answer.

…But Wong’s face hardened.

"You, with a friend. Now that’s a surprise."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I said. I’m surprised."

"Show a little more respect, will you? I’m the Sorcerer Supreme."

Ignoring my words, Wong gestured for me to follow.

I may be the Sorcerer Supreme… but Wong is my senior as a sorcerer.
I don’t need him to bow and scrape, but he could stand to show a bit more respect.

Crossing through the rift of space created by the Sling Ring… we arrived at the great temple, far removed from New York—Kamar-Taj.

"So, what’s the trouble this time?"

"Baron Mordo."

At that name, I let out a sigh.

My master, the Ancient One’s former disciple.
In other words, my senior.

He was consumed by his desire for power… and became a sorcerer of the dark arts.

…This isn’t the first time he’s caused trouble.
I’ve fought him more than once… truly a persistent man.

"He stole a forbidden tome—one that records the black magic of the Elder God, Chthon."

"From Kamar-Taj?"

"Yes."

"…Maybe you should hire a security company."

"Don’t be absurd. Kamar-Taj must remain hidden. Our guardians need more training—that’s what’s required."

"I know. That was sarcasm."

I pulled up the collar of my cloak.

To protect the order of this world, I must fight.
That is what I accept as my mission.

…And yet.

I thought back to that boy’s face.
A little uncertain of himself, but carrying a tremendous sense of responsibility.

Peter Parker.

Like me, a boy who feels it is his duty to save others.

A boy who sacrifices himself for the sake of other people’s happiness.

But if that is so… then who will bring him happiness?

…If nothing else, I pray he will find it.

Someone like him—so much like me—
I wished for him to know happiness… to remain by the side of someone precious.

I pray that he will meet someone who can bring him that happiness.

---

"Here it is. Rent is due on the first—don’t be late."

"...Thank you."

I bowed to the landlord and opened the door. I set the rusted key on the desk... flipped up the small lever-style switch, and the light bulb lit up the room.

The door closed behind me.

It couldn’t be called clean, not even as flattery. White walls, stained and worn.

Worse than the apartment I lived in before.

...But from today on, this is my home.

The wood frame of the bed was bare, no cushions. A small lamp.

A kitchen stained with oil.

"...Looks like I’ll need to clean."

I set down the boxes of my things onto the rickety desk.

First, a few books. Hand-me-down textbooks from Steven.

My past had been erased by Mephisto. So I didn’t have anything like an academic record.

To get into college, I needed certification that I’d graduated high school. Luckily, this country had a high school equivalency exam.

If I passed, I could go to college too. The one I always wanted to—Empire State University.

The tuition worried me a bit, but... there were scholarships. The September Foundation Scholarship.

It was set up by Mr. Stark... if your grades were above a certain level, you’d get a tax-free stipend. Something I desperately needed right now.

Mr. Stark always said, "It’s just a tax write-off," but that had to be an excuse. His kindness... still helps me, even now that I’ve become a stranger to him.

I couldn’t help but smile.

Other than that, I had a small lamp. A cheap notebook. An outdated smartphone.

I bought it with money I borrowed from Steven. If you want to live in today’s world, a smartphone is a necessity.

And then I set sewing tools on the desk. Waterproof, stretchable fabric, in blue and red.

I turned on the lamp and sat down at the desk. Cut the fabric, threaded the needle.

My hands worked smoothly, sewing through the cloth.

"Maybe I should make it flashier."

I drew lines on the red fabric with a black pen. A design like a spider’s web.

"No, it’s fine the way it always was."

I disassembled the white sunglasses I’d bought and attached the lenses.

Stitched it all together... adjusted the form... and there, it became a humanoid suit.

Ah, can’t forget the last part. A big, black spider emblem on the chest.

"Alright, perfect."

I stretched my shoulders... looking out the window, I realized it was already dark. Night had fallen completely.

No sewing machine, so it took longer than I thought.

Eating the bread I’d bought, I tinkered with a machine I’d salvaged from the junkyard. A perfectly usable radio receiver, thrown out.

Just adjust it like this, and...

‘...Fire reported at 43rd Street, EMTs dispatched—

‘Requesting tow trucks and fire engines—

See? Perfect.

The nanomachine suit Mr. Stark made for me was gone. It had been created "just for me"... so it was erased along with the reality rewrite.

That’s why I remade the suit. A handmade, old-fashioned, classic suit.

I strapped the web-shooters to my wrists.

But those hadn’t disappeared. Maybe because I built them myself from scratch? Or because I had them on me at the time...?

I didn’t know the answer, but they were here, and that was enough.

The cartridges used some store-bought materials... a bit expensive, but not impossible to make.

I reloaded and clicked it into place.

And then, I put on the suit I’d just stitched together.

A little tight, but with the stretchable fabric, it would be fine.

No high-tech AI. No bulletproof or blade-resistant functions.

Just a suit made of plain fabric.

But this is enough.

You don’t need a high-performance suit to be a hero. This is where I started... and until recently, this was how I fought.

What matters most is an unbreakable heart. With that alone, anyone can be a hero. Even if you can’t save the world, you can still be someone’s hero.

I opened the window... and leapt outside.

Landing on a rooftop, I ran. Firing webs from my web-shooters, swinging from building to building.

Higher, faster.

I widened my arc and swung.

Diving from great heights to build speed. Using that momentum, I swung again without losing it.

Soaring through the air, I raced across my birthplace—New York City.

No one remembers me. No one knows me.

But I’m still here.

Some might say I should stop doing this.

I’ve lost things precious to me. I’ve been beaten down more times than I can count.

I reflect, sure.

But I don’t regret.

I move forward.

That’s my responsibility—the one who was given great power.

I won’t stop. I won’t break.

No matter how many times I’m defeated, no matter what I lose, no matter how many times I fall... I’ll stand back up again.

Even if the people I love forget me. Even if my bonds with them are severed.

I’ll keep moving forward. I won’t stop walking.

Because helping people—this is where I belong.

Of course it is.

Because I am... your Friendly Neighborhood—

"Spider-Man."

---

I took a bite of the fresh cream.
The sweetness of sugar and milk spread across my tongue.

"Is it good?"

"Mhm... it’s good."

I nodded deeply.

This was a base belonging to S.H.I.E.L.D.... I wasn’t sure where, but it was a hospital room.

On the desk was a shortcake. Across from me, Gwen had a slice of chocolate cake.

And... a little further away, Harry was eating a cake topped with orange peel.

"..."

It was Harry who’d brought the cakes. A get-well gift, apparently.

But maybe out of courtesy—or some other reason—he was keeping a bit of distance from me.

Gwen noticed where I was looking and turned toward Harry.

"Harry, come sit over here."

"Ah... but I’d hate to intrude—"

I shook my head at his words.

"It’s not an intrusion."

"...I see. Sorry, then."

Harry carried his plate over and sat down beside Gwen.

He looked a little awkward. He knew I’d once acted as Redcap.

Maybe that’s why... does he resent me? ...If he did, though, he wouldn’t have bought me cake.

What is he really thinking inside?

Just as I was wondering that—

"Michelle."

"...What?"

I froze, fork halfway to my mouth, as he spoke with a solemn expression. Tension ran between us.

Then Harry opened his mouth.

"No matter what you did in the past... I’m on your side."

The unexpected words made me widen my eyes.

"B-but..."

"You saved me from that collapsing building. I never thanked you for that... so, thank you."

"Uh, um..."

I glanced toward Gwen—she was feeding chocolate cake to her symbiote.

"But I..."

As I faltered, Gwen spoke up.

"See, Michelle? People are more forgiving than you think."

"...I’m sorry."

"Not sorry—‘thank you’ is better."

I looked back at Harry... and bowed my head.

"Harry, thank you."

"...No, thank you. I’m just glad you’re alive."

He smiled as he said it. Harry was handsome—he really looked the part in a moment like this.

And then Gwen, grinning ear to ear, spoke again.

"Michelle. Next time, let’s go apologize to Ned too, okay?"

"...Yeah."

That’s right. Even though Ned didn’t die... I was the one who shot him.

The thought made my chest sink.

"It’ll be fine, Ned will forgive you."

Gwen stroked my shoulder, smiling. Harry tilted his head at that.

"But is it alright to let outsiders know she’s alive?"

"It’s fine. I already told him."

"...Did you get Fury’s permission?"

"I didn’t, no."

Harry instinctively buried his face in his hands. Gwen really was reckless.

And Harry, sticking with her despite all that... was honestly impressive.

Yes, Harry really was amazing.
Handsome, kind, rich.

...And he had feelings for me.

He’d told me he liked me.
But... I shook my head.

Because of the guilt I carried—hiding the fact that I was Redcap.
But now... there was no such burden anymore.
Now, I could answer his feelings.

And yet... why was it?

I felt I couldn’t accept them.
Deep inside, something was holding me back.

No matter what, I couldn’t fall in love with him.
As if there were only one seat... and I was waiting for someone else to sit in it.

I found that strange, but I forced myself not to show it on my face.

"Michelle, can I turn on the TV?"

"Ah, yeah..."

Gwen picked up the remote and pressed the button.

The screen showed breaking news.
A building engulfed in red flames.

‘A fire is underway at 43rd Street! Evacuations are almost complete, but a child remains trapped on the top floor—’

Gwen frowned at the sight.
Even if we rushed there now, we couldn’t do anything.

All we could do was pray for the firefighters—

And then, into that burning image... someone in red and blue dove straight in.

‘Ah! Someone has entered the top floor!’

It was only for an instant, but I knew who it was.

"Spider-Man...?"

Knowledge from another world flowed into my mind.

Spider-Man.
The superhero bitten by a radioactive spider.

He rescued the child from the top floor and handed them to the rescue team.

Spider-Man.
...Spider-Man?

He was... my inspiration.
My favorite hero?
Yes, he was the hero I admired most.

Ah, so he existed in this world too.

...Wait? No, why...?

Something important resurfaced.

"Eh? Michelle, you know that guy in the tights?"

Gwen Stacy.
Harry Osborn.
Ned Leeds.

And Midtown High School.

All of them tied to Spider-Man.

So then... why didn’t we know about him?

Herman... Shocker, too—he should have been a villain connected to Spider-Man.

So why did no one remember Spider-Man...? Or Peter Parker?

"...I have to see him."

Surely, he knows something.
The truth behind this sense of wrongness... the emptiness I feel inside.

The truth of what I’ve lost.

He knows.
I have to ask him.

"Michelle?"

"...No, it’s nothing."

But not now.
I didn’t even have permission to leave the base. There was no way to meet him.

...Not yet.

But one day, I would meet him and find out.

The truth about the hole left in my heart.