Out of all of the things that Peter Parker had expected when he'd first decided to become a superhero, waiting was not one of them.
Or at least,waiting specifically on an alien planet for a bloodthirsty genocidal tyrant to come and slaughter them all over a fancy piece of bling belonging to a sassy sorcerer with a sentient cloak that they literally just met.
When Peter Parker had first donned his original not-a-onesie costume, the teenager was expecting a multitude of things. He originally went into being a hero expecting to save lives; by thwarting muggings before they could go wrong and webbing up serial killers for the police. Peter expected to help people; whether by returning stolen possessions, calling ambulances for victims, or even just by helping old ladies cross the street. He was prepared for danger - he understood that well - but he thought that it would mostly be contained to himself. The teenager expected to be saving children's' cats from trees, and petting people's dogs. He expected to be fighting robbers, drug dealers, and the occasional assassin. And although grand, taking down the leader of an international illegal alien weapons ring wasn't too horrendously outside of his expected purview.
What he certainly hadn't been expecting though, was to have to fight for the fate of the entire universe, and all that it entailed.
So with the change in circumstance, Peter probably should have been terrified. The genius teenager really should have been so horribly scared that he couldn't even think straight. He should have been at least jittery
He wasn't.
Instead, what Peter really, really wanted to do was to go join the weird alien bug lady and jump on the low-gravity spots on Titan.
...But he knew that he wouldn't.
Because after all, there was a time and a place for goofing around on an alien planet and - oh my gosh I'm one of the first humans to ever step foot on an alien planet, do I need to say a super-historical-and-monumental-and-inspirational quote or something?! - and he wanted to impress Mr. Stark by showing him that he wasn't just some naive kid who'd become a liability.
Yeah. He really needed to impress Mr. Stark and the strange-wizard-dude. Jumping around like a fool would not do that.
Priorities, man.
Decision made, Peter turned away with a determined nod, refusing to look at Mantis having the time of her life while whooping in joy. With his enhanced hearing, he could clearly detect when Drax joined her and began yelling about how the dusty breeze tickled his nipples. He heard the slight slap of skin on skin when Quill inevitably facepalmed at his crew's antics, and when Mr. Stark muttered 'morons' . He could even hear the faint ringing monotone pitch emanating from the time stone which Strange was currently using to flicker like a YouTube video at 20x speed, but the teenager consciously tuned it out.
Peter stared fixedly over the twisted wreckage stretching towards the ruddy horizon, ignoring the commotion going on behind him as the hero responsibly tried to run over the details of their half-baked plan while mentally calculating which metallic spires would make the best vantage points and web spots.
But…
Ned would be so pissed if he found out that Peter had the opportunity to jump over fifty feet into the air on an actual alien planet (he still wasn't over that) just like John Carter, and had squandered that beautiful, once-in-lifetime chance for absolutely nothing. And after all, if he survived the journey to an alien planet, he should have the right to jump on it. Besides, Mr. Stark was already kind of (but not really?) angry at him. Having some fun prior to facing a genocidal maniac probably wasn't going to change that for better or worse.
Peter was still deliberating his options when a low whistling sound seeping its way past the ancient wreckage caught his attention.
The teenager froze.
It was silent for a tense couple of seconds, until the rustling sound of a light wind current started up again. Peter really should have been content to just ignore it. After all, all his logic told him that it was just a simple gust of wind; But he couldn't. Because somehow, somehow the seemingly-innocent breeze set his spidey-sense on edge. The innocuous air currents logic-defyingly managed to trigger a deeper felt sense of danger than an incoming knife to the gut. His mind and his instincts were at a complete disjunction in a way that they'd never been before in the teenager's life. It was unnerving.
Peter decided to just watch the phenomenon for a while, and observe what came out of it. In all likelihood it was probably just nothing. And anyways, it wasn't exactly like he could ask for help at the moment (what was he supposed to say, that the wind was sketchy?). But as the seconds ticked by and more air began to whistle through the ruins, despite the deadened planet's lack of natural pressure differentials, Peter realised that the gale was not going to die down on its own. If anything, the torrent was rapidly approaching miniature twister levels. Now that was definitely a bit not good. As more significant quantities of alien dust and particle debris began to whorl and condense in the air, the teenager realised that the others should probably be alerted to the issue.
"Umm, guys?" Peter yelled, instantly gathering the collective attention of the motley group of heroes. Blushing slightly with all the attention, Peter awkwardly gestured towards the ominously growing cyclone, feeling slightly ridiculous as he did so.
Everyone's eyes snapped towards the visibly whirling funnel which had just managed to pick up a sizable chunk of rusted sheet metal.
"The hell?" Mr. Stark exclaimed. "That you, Snarky-Sparky?"
"No." Strange answered through gritted teeth, eyeing the phenomenon with a slight frown as the metal piece was violently thrown out of the whirlwind and sent careening into a decayed fountain spout. "If it was, Stark, you would know about it."
In the meanwhile, Quill had pulled out his scanner and was pacing around the cyclone in a semi-circle as he gathered data readings on the odd meteorological event. "I can't detect what's causing it!" Quill shouted slightly to be heard over the now-audibly howling wind "By my readings, it should not even be here! And for some reason, its not picking up molecular debris equally either. It's mostly sucking in oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, and nitrogen, with some trace amounts of electrolytes, minerals and metals - potassium, calcium, sulphur, sodium, chlorine, magnesium, and iron, mostly."
Silence reigned among the group of contemplative heroes, unbroken except by the shrieking of the wind and the beeping of the scanner as the device continued to gather data. Eventually, Quill spoke up again with a slightly confused frown "I'm also detecting exponentially increasing levels of beta, gamma, and cosmic background radiation," Star-Lord frowned deeper at the display, the combined readings triggering a vague memory "...and it has a distinct epicenter," Quill continued, realization striking him a moment later, "Shit! Something's coming!"
Everyone reacted to the statement.
Mr. Stark immediately double tapped his arc reactor, completely reforming his suit as genius intellect worked to calculate possibilities on how to leverage the environment adjacent to the cyclone's epicenter. Strange snapped to attention and moved his arms in a practised motion, magical orange sparks flying about as a pair of mandalas formed. All prior facetiousness instantly disappeared from the Guardians as well; Quill had immediately donned his mask, whipping out a pair of charged blasters; Drax pulled a pair of wicked looking knives out of nowhere, quickly assuming a fighting stance and looking ready to pounce at a moment's notice; Mantis raised her hands in a claw formation, hissing with the ferocity of a wet kitten. It was oddly endearing. Peter gave her points for trying.
The teenager's spidey-sense continued to act oddly to the rapidly forming torrent, setting his instincts at odds with one another.
On one hand, the sheer arcane power of what approached struck fear down to most primal depths of his soul, igniting survival instincts that he didn't even know existed. Telling him that he had to run for there was no hope of fighting what was coming. Contrastingly, the other half of his senses were at ease: telling him that he would be fine. Convincing him that although whatever was coming might just be the most dangerous thing that he'd ever encounter, it wouldn't harm him. That it was somehow safe, and that everything would be okay.
The gale ominously whistled through the ancient skeletal ruins on Titan, wailing like a weeping banshee.
The eerie shrieking made the heroes tense further.
Peter shook his head to clear his odd sensory thoughts. Now was definitely not the time for distractions and doubts.
Focus.
In his peripheral vision, Peter could see that Mr. Stark had reformed his entire suit and had his repulsors primed, loaded, and pointed. Strange was steadily holding his sparking battle mandalas while looking - surprised? So much for being able to see the future, Peter mused. The shrieking gale picked up, swirling dirt into the air as Peter reflexively raised his arm to protect his eyes from the stinging alien dust before realizing that he could just activate his mask as Quill had done.
As the seconds tensely ticked by at an agonizingly slow rate, particles fed from the winds rushing into the unnatural low pressure from all throughout the alien ruins. The debris seemed to condense, forming a centralized column of dust and creating a dark shadowy shape too obscure to clearly discern - even for Peter's enhanced vison.
The disquieting howling crescendoed as the darkness solidified. A flash of incandescent gold forebodingly gleamed within the dust. As the matter coalesced further, the shape within began to become distinguishable. Standing at around six feet tall, and with a spherical mass at the top and four shapes resembling a set of arms and legs - it was starting to look worryingly human.
Or at least, humanoid. It was kind of hard to tell. They were in space, after all. The heroes tensed regardless, bracing for an attack.
After a matter of seconds which felt like a certifiable eternity, the gale began to die down. The dust rapidly cleared, unveiling the previously shrouded figure in the process. In the still-dispersing dust, Peter could make out with his enhanced vision the wind-ruffled sable hair and the sharp, almost elven features of a very human looking man.
With one final gust of wind, a long blue alien-leather coat billowed out dramatically before settling down unnaturally fast in the still whistling breeze. Dust completely gone now, Peter could confidently guess that in appearance, the man was probably only a handful of years older than the teenager himself - maybe mid-twenties at the latest. Though with aliens, age really was just a number. Thor was quite the stud for a guy who was supposedly thousands of years old.
A pair of striking cerulean blue eyes locked onto the group of heroes, vestiges of radiant gold rapidly fading from the irises. Just as cautiously as they observed him, the man looked at each of them in turn. He silently glanced around the group, eyes flitting from person to person as if searching for something or someone - completely unperturbed by the plethora of highly lethal weapons pointed straight at him.
His heavy gaze finally settled on Dr. Strange and he cocked his head to the side, in a slightly confused but considering gesture.
He still said nothing.
The man eyed them silently without moving a muscle, the tension building by the second as the group of heroes felt increasingly disconcerted. The young man's too-old eyes were specifically locked on the Sorcerer Supreme and his mandalas, although Peter could tell that he kept a careful eye on the rest of their mismatched group as well. His spidey-sense prickled slightly, continuing to give him mixed signals.
The stand-off continued for a brief moment longer until Mr. Stark eloquently voiced the question that they all were wondering.
"Who the fuck are you?!"