Hiya! Just a prouloge so nothing really happens but i hope you like it!

"You know that terrible feeling in the pit of your stomache that winds its way to your throat until you feel like your gonna choke.

You know the ugly feeling of dread for something you cant pin point, but it still looms like a grusome shadow.

You know the cruel twist of your stomach when the dread in question comes into light and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

You know the terrifying feeling of numbness as it crawls up your legs and arms.

You know the warm heaving form of the one person left as he grips you as tight as he could with his weak, shaking hands.

You know the pulsing of your chest as you can feel the nothingness climb higher and higher up your body.

You know the torn feeling between wanting to believe the comforting lies of your one and only father figure, and attempting to accept the fact that this was the last time you would see anything. Hear anything. Feel anything.

You know the instant regret of muttering the words that had been engraved into your mind from a young age, but not being able to correct yourself because the ash engulfing your body had made its way to your quivering chin.

You know the lost feeling of being whisked into the winds of a planet unknown to you or anyone on earth.

You know the out of body experience of seeing yourself fly away in a billion pieces of black ash, whilst your mentor tries desperatly to grab at them; so he wouldnt have to lose another person.

You know the feeling of hot tears dripping wildly down your cheeks as you scream for someone, anyone , to save you from the hell that happends to be life.

You know the drop of your stomach when you realise that no one is there. No one is listening to your pleads and wines.

Dont you Peter?" The echoing voice cackled. It had been taunting Peter ever since he had appeared in the emptyness.

The world around him was pitch black yet a warm glow if white light surrounded him like a halo, illuminating the nothing but his immidiate surroundings.

Peter sat with his legs to his chin and his face tucked between the two. The taunts and cruel remarks of the voice never stopped, but after what was most likley years, Peter had learnt to block it out. Instead focusing on his memories of his best friends: MJ and Ned bantering at the lunch table, of his aunt being dorky and weird.

But no matter how hard he tried, the voice still managed to worm itself into his shreded mind with detailed recounts of some of the most painfull moments in his short, juvinile life.

Like the time his parents died with him in the car. Or the time he got beat up just for the sake of it. Or the time when his aunt and uncle left him on his own and he nearly got kidnapped. Or that time where his uncle was murdered, in an attempt to keep Peter safe, by a muggar who wanted something as shallow as money. Sometimes even that one time when he was almost crushed under rubble with no one to help or hear him begging. Or that time where he had died, turned to ash, along with half of the universe, and somehow ended in this etearnal tourture.

It goes without saying that the last one was the worst. The wound that the memory left felt fresh and wet, yet at the same time old and infected. The recount of the scene was always Peters least faviourite moment, one in hundreds if moments in wich Peter dreaded. But it was always the last that was the worst, the desgustingly detailed flash back of his lowest moment.

"P-ter...-ter." A familiar voice trickeled through the silence that Peter had finally achieved in the last minute or so. This voice was diferent from the disembodied echoes of his tourturer. This one was loud and urgent, crinckled from, what sounded like, static.

The would-be teen perked up at his name being used in another manner other than taunting questions. He searched the darkness for an owner but nothing showed up to his clouded vision.

"-er Pa-ke-...Pete- Pa-Park-r." The other voice repeated. Peter knew that the words were coming from a direction, but he just couldnt work out wich.

"Yes?" He called out into the abyss, and, as expected, nothing answered.

"Were- n...-sou-l...s-on- stone." The static words reverbirated through the nonexistent waves of air around him. 'Were in the soul stone.' That was what it had said. Peter wasnt sure if he had heard wrong or he had finally gone crazy, but he was sure a whole teenage boy couldnt fit into a tiny yellow glowy gem.

...Could he?

He sprinted towards the sound as it repeated sentences. What if this voice was his way out? But it could also be a trap created by the other, cruel voice. The first few weeks(hours?) the voice had created miserable and terrifying illusions that forced Peter into a false sence of security, only to thrust reality upon him. What if it was just another illusion?

Peter shoved those thoughts to the very back of his mind and proceded to run as fast as he could to where the other voice was crying out.

His breath caught in his throat when he finally made it within a few feet of the voice. A yellow, ember like like light hovered in the midst of the nothing. It was shaped almost like a magic circle from a manga or something similar to a fantasy cartoon.

Peter had seen that kind of magic before; It belonged to Dr Strange. The man he fought with on Titan. One of the people thst he disapeared with. The man with the sentinent cape.

Wait. Did everyone who turned to ash go to the same place? Were they all somehow in the soul stone, being thrown around on Thanos' gauntlet, the one that he had used to steal billions of lives. If so, Peter could talk to people. He could find them and have a conversation with them, something he hadn't done for centuries(minutes?).

But what if he found Aunt May, or MJ, or Ned, maybe even Mr. Stark, what if they had turned to ash just like him? Peter didnt know how to feel about that. On one hand, he wouldnt be alone, he could see his family again. But on the other, it meant that they had died too, they had to feel their bodys evaporating into nothing too. That idea, he didnt quite like.

This time Peter was snapped out of his worried thoughts by a roar of lime green light crashing through the darkness and heading straight towards him. He gawked until his mind started whiring and ordered him to run and clamper through the nothing, but no matter what, he couldn't outrun the green.

The blinding light engulfed him for only half a second, until he found himself lying, drunk style, on an old park bench in the middle of a bustling city park.

"What the f-"

I'm gonna try to help with your Infinity War blues so bare with me! 3