DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything in this story. Halo, Marvel, and others belong to their respective owners. I think one disclaimer is enough, no need to disrupt the flow. I realized that, oof.
Heads up: I fixed a little consistency in chapter 1. Reread if you wish.
WARNING: Graphic content ahead.
How could this have happened?
It was to be a simple operation. They've done it several times with the insurrectionists, more so than with the Covenant. Get in, neutralize hostiles, secure the artifact, and radio command. Though the simple leathernecks were simply baggage in his eyes, Peter did find them more useful as a support. Buck must've had the same idea but it didn't matter now.
Brutes were nothing but wild beasts. They were not as smart as the Elites were, but their viciousness and untamed ferocity made it up in that department. The Grunts, Jackals, and Drones were disorganized without a leader.
Peter...remembered. They touched down about half a klick from the Recon Squad's last known position, being dropped off in the Forest and unhitching the two Warthogs: Gauss and the standard.
Buck had ordered Rookie to get in the driver seat of the Gauss while Mickey took on the role of the gunner. The jarhead stragglers—Peter like to call them that—had taken the other M12. They embarked on their journey through the woods, the LRVs driving at a pace that the others could easily keep up. Peter recalled that they were startled once or twice when wildlife appeared on their trail. One Marine was jumpy enough to fire his MA5. Sol was quick to admonish the private.
Then they had split up at a certain point. Peter couldn't remember when, though. Maybe it was when they had eyes on the designated area? The corporal didn't know.
Peter remembered that the situation was sketchy. No distinct crackles of weapon fire rang out during their journey, no signs of plasma burns, nobodies…
Peter had voiced his worry to the rest of Alpha-Nine. They too agreed with him and tread carefully, eyes flickering to just about anywhere either it be within or out of their field of view.
Unfortunately, their paranoia proved to be correct. Peter vividly painted the situation in his now conscious mind. Covenant forces suddenly appeared along with a Wraith and two Ghosts to back them up. Mickey had the Gauss right at the Wraith while the others had their weapons raised. The forces consisted of one Chieftain, one Major, two Captains, and six Minors. Several Grunts and Jackals along with a pair of Hunters accompanied them with the aforementioned vehicles right behind the force.
The situation got worse when the ODSTs realized that they were surrounded. Peter noticed a similar Covenant presence directly behind them and relayed that bit of information to the others subtly.
The Covenant sure as hell didn't take prisoners, so their deaths were inevitable. However, that was not the case. The Chieftain turned out to be one of the rare Brutes who actually had a brain and devised a plan, so he said gloatingly. Peter's recent memory was the Chieftain eyeing him before it faded to black.
Now, Peter found himself tied up with what seemed to be plasma cuffs and on his knees. It fascinated his scientific side that the plasma didn't actually inflict any harm, as if the plasma itself was encased in some sort of invisible box. That'd be one helluva box, Peter thought.
Glancing to both his sides, Peter noticed that his teammates and surprisingly the ten leathernecks were there in the same situation except Alpha-Nine was to his left and the Marines were to his right. Then Peter took notice of their surroundings and found that they were in the open, except they were in an area clearly constructed by the Forerunners. He could recognize the architecture from his first days on Halo.
Peter also noticed that they were outside and that their heels were touching the wall behind them. Now Peter knew what the UNSC soldiers who were executed by the Insurrectionists by firing squad felt like.
Then came the bastard that ambushed them, chuckling darkly. The same two Brute Captains accompanied his visit, but also a Marine. The possible lone survivor of the Recon Squad they were sent to rescue. Too bad the Chieftain had him in a chokehold, raising him up high in the air.
"Petty humans," He began. "Pitiful. Weak. Undisciplined." His chunky yet strong hands tightened the chokehold. Alpha-Nine and the captured Marines could only watch in horror and listen to the struggled breaths the Marine was attempting to take.
"F—K you!" The Marine managed to gasp out, and the Chieftain's response was a physical one. The chokehold tightened even more, and the Marine clawed at the hand holding his throat in a vain attempt to relinquish the grip.
Then a painful crack broke through the silence. One soulless body dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, and disturbingly enough it was in front of Peter. He couldn't help but stare at it, thoughts racing through his mind at high speeds. Disturbing? Yes. Frightening? Maybe.
The Brute Chieftain slowly approached Peter, each step becoming deafening to Peter. His guards had stayed back to watch the event unfold. It was strange and unusual when the Chieftain took a knee and his grotesque face was eye level with Peter's.
"Then we have the Spider." The Brute said with a feral growl. "You are as bad as the Demon. It truly would be humiliating if one of our warriors were bested by a mere unaugmented human."
Peter decided against on depolarizing his visor so that his soon-to-be executioner could see his eyes. The bastard had some vocabulary for a Brute. Peter could care less if any Covenant talks shit about his friend. Though, he had to know. "How do you know that?"
"That the Demon is augmented?" He then began to chuckle. His guards even seem to be puzzled about the words escaping their leader's mouth. It truly shows how unintelligent they were. "I'm afraid you won't live long enough to know."
Peter rolled his eyes. It was like fuzzball here was some sort of supervillain with the monologue he was giving. He opted to speak in silence, causing the Brute to chuckle shortly after.
"Silence is deafening, Spider." The Brute growled menacingly, throwing a glance at the captive Marines. "Perhaps a demonstration is overdue."
The Chieftain brought himself to his feet and marched right over to one of the Marines. Unsurprisingly, the private showed the most fear out of all of them. It was once told that the Brutes could smell fear, and prefer those who have said scent.
The poor leatherneck was shaking uncontrollably, refusing to look up. Peter knew what would happen next and he envisioned that it wasn't going to be pretty.
The Chieftain forcefully brought the frightened Marine to his feet and literally deactivated the plasma cuffs with a wave of his hand, surprising the humans who were present. Peter could faintly hear the prayers the Marine was tearfully mumbling and mentioning names that he sure was close relatives. The Chieftain violently guided the Marine towards the area in front of Peter. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, and he hated being special.
Everyone, including the two Brutes except the Chieftain, did not expect a small step to raise from the Forerunner based ground. Then, on that small step, it produced a slim terminal. The Chieftain then grabbed the Marine's shaky hand and gently guided it to the Forerunner terminal. The two Brutes behind him suddenly became excited and howled, but if you asked Peter they were more like loud raspy growls.
As if summoned, multiple Covenant soldiers ranging from Grunts, Jackals, Brutes, and two pairs of Hunters appeared from the ledge. Turns out they were on top of the structure the whole time and there was a ramp.
Unlike most of the Marines that were with them, the frightened Marine wore no gloves. Peter discerned that the Chieftain was activating the Forerunner artifact they were briefed on. He was able to come up with this conclusion since the Brute needed a human to activate it, and the Chief once told Peter that only a human could actually activate Halo.
Wasting no time, Peter silently radioed Command or anyone else on the Forward Unto Dawn. Activating his throat mic with a flick of his eyes, Peter quietly began.
"Forward Unto, this is Spider-Man, come in!" No response. "Dammit! If anyone is getting this then the Covenant is activating the artifact. I say again, the Covenant is—"
The Marine's hand touched the Panel and a strange sound emitted before a flash of green illuminated the terminal before receding. Sounds of surprise and awe came from the Covenant troops as something began to protrude from the floor. Like a wave, Covenant troops gave way so that the Brute Chieftain could swiftly turn around and witness the moment unfold, releasing his grip on the private who looked shell-shocked once he hit the floor.
"Yes...Yes!" The Chieftain roared victoriously, bringing out his hammer that was on his back. Others joined him and Grunts cheered while the Jackals squawked. The Hunters went unheard. "It is unfolding! The gateway that the gods promised would lead to paradise!"
"Shit, that doesn't sound good." Buck cursed through their radio that only the other ODSTs could hear. Before anyone else could reply, the Chieftain turned around and painfully stomped on the lying Marine's leg, making the man cry out in pain.
"But first, let us celebrate our victory!" The Chieftain announced, flashing a menacing grin towards Peter. He had to admit, that gave him the chills.
The Marine that would be the first victim in the Covenant's celebration quietly uttered, "Help me…" and Peter felt like shit. He was helpless in watching a fellow soldier be tortured.
Peter starred absentmindedly and was brought out of his stupor when blood suddenly splashed his visor, coloring almost his entire vision in red. The Chieftain had brought down his hammer on the poor Marine's head, cutting through the helmet with ease and splitting the man's head open, revealing chunks of brain. To be so close and see it more clearly...it made his stomach churn. The lifeless Marine's eyes still looked pleading, even in its mangled state. It horrified Peter. It boiled his blood to hear the Covenant forces cheering as if it was some sort of festivity.
Peter drowned out the sounds of the cursing teammates. He just couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of the dead Marine. One brutally killed Marine. Then Peter looked up to see Marines be forced up and slaughtered one by one.
Nine Marines remained when the poor private was brutally murdered right in front of him.
Eight Marines remained when another private's head was detached and actually connected to the wall behind Peter when one of the Brute's fired his Spiker at literal gunpoint until he ran out of ammo. The Covenant cheered even louder and became crazier when all that was left was a bloody stain on the wall and a headless human.
Seven Marines remained when a lance corporal had both of his legs burned off from continuous plasma pistol fire from a group of five grunts. One of them actually aimed for the head of the Marine for a bit and all that was left was a caved in face that was sizzling. What was even more sickening was that three Brutes went to taste what they called, "Seared Human Flesh."
Six Marines remained when a corporal took an overcharged plasma bolt directly to the face by one of the Jackals. That same Jackal then proceeded to indulge himself with the result.
Five Marines remained when another private was brought up. Tears streamed from his eyes and he even begged to be spared. The Brutes laughed it all up. Peter just wanted to break free of his restraints and kill all the SOBs and save the private's life. Peter could just practically hear the anger brewing up within his teammates. Pretty soon one of them was about to explode in anger but they were able to keep their cool for the time being.
What came next almost made Peter release his lunch full force. He and the remaining others watched the helpless leatherneck be forced away from the rest a good ten feet and in the center of the Covenant force. Said Covenant force also took a few good steps away from what was about to happen. Now the private was literally the center of attention, and he was terrified.
A Grunt waddled his way up to the Chieftain, producing a Plasma grenade and what seems to be a trigger of some sort. The Brute snatched the two items and turned back to the soon-to-be-murdered Marine.
Peter was able to hear a low growl followed by a dark cackle from the Chieftain as he armed the Plasma Grenade. Somehow, he forced the grenade in the Marine's mouth, his eyes widening in horror and realization.
Stepping a good distance away from the bomb that was the private, the Chieftain held out the trigger in his hand for everyone to see. He shouted, "For the Covenant!"
The Brutes roared while the Grunts cheered. The Jackals squawked once more, and oddly the Hunters stood idly by.
One chunky thumb pushed the trigger down with such force that the trigger itself barely managed to survive the show of force. The immediate sound of a bomb being armed barely made its way to Peter.
For a moment, a bright light shined from the Marine. Then, once again, Peter and some of the others were coated with dark crimson blood. Peter was barely able to make out the Marine's head exploding and a portion of his torso, leaving the Brutes to make an ear-splitting howl of approval.
The cycle continued and the methods of execution just got more disturbing. Buck's blood boiled over and he unleashed his anger in the form of screaming curses that, of course, went unheard over the Covenant party. Peter watched in remorse as the Marines were literally cut down in some cases. Their cries of anguish and one calling out his family didn't help either.
Eventually, there was all but one Marine left: Staff Sergeant Sol. Throughout it all, he had a stony expression mixed in with a small bit of queasiness. He had to watch as his men—his friends are executed by the Covenant in many horrific ways. Yet he managed to keep his fear from showing. One tough SOB, Peter thought.
Unfortunately, the Staff Sergeant's time was up. He was about to meet his maker just like the rest of his men had. He was brought up to the center where almost all of his men laid dead, each sharing the same quality: they were all missing a limb. Blood painting the floor, and the Brutes enjoyed that. Peter guessed shit must've smelt great to them, then.
The Chieftain noticed the look on Sol's face and commented aloud, "You share no fear human. Do you not care for your men?" He then gestured towards the bodies.
Sol looked up, glaring at the Brute who was committing a war crime. Not that the Covenant cared, anyway. "You're a sick bastard, you know that?"
The Chieftain's response was a low, amused chuckle. "All you can throw are weak obscenities? Pathetic."
"It's all I can do right now, bitch," Sol said flatly, motioning his head to his restraints.
"Hmm, I suppose…" The Chieftain reluctantly concurred.
"Chieftain, the gateway! It is opening!" One Brute excitedly informed their leader. All attention was drawn away from the lone surviving Marine and towards the gateway. Peter and his teammates witnessed the Forerunner gateway began to come to life. Though, the end result was anti-climatic in Peter's opinion. All that show and buildup just for a black, swirling void to appear in the gateway. The Covenant went nuts and galloped all around. How could the Covenant be excited about just an empty black space? Either way, if the Brute Chieftain's words were true then that gateway lead to somewhere.
The Chieftain spun around at lightning speed. One second Sol's head was intact. The next it was detached and flying to Peter's left. The Chieftain had used his hammer and swung it horizontally with so much force that it did just that. Sol's body was without a head, and blood was spurting from the area. God, the Covenant was so cruel but they could never match the Flood. Never.
Before the Chieftain could even take a single step towards Peter, a Brute shouted out in fear.
"By the gods...High Charity!" A Brute minor screamed, managing to cut through the roaring Covenant. Those roars died down as everyone looked up, including the ODSTs.
Lo and behold, High Charity. Peter and the ODSTs were briefed about its current state: Flood-infested. The spores exuding from it didn't go unnoticed by them.
Wait, now was the time, Peter thought. Sure, they're restrained, but they could still move their legs freely. Peter guessed the Chieftain wasn't as smart as he was lead to believe. Then again, it was unexpected that they move given that they're in no position to do so.
Activating his radio, he told the dumbstruck ODSTs his plan.
"Listen! We need to get to that portal or whatever, now while we still can! The dipshits are distracted and it looks like it's coming straight towards us! Where ever that thing leads to has got to be better than the shithole this'll become," Peter quickly said, not missing a beat. Everyone nodded in agreement.
"Alright, Parker. You're taking point on this one," Buck stated.
Wasting no time, Peter brought himself to his feet and raced towards the portal with the others following.
'Heh, Covenant made a straight path. Easy.'
It was true. The Covenant troops positioned themselves on each side of the portal besides the middle, creating an easily accessible path. Everyone was too dumbstruck and shocked to see the holy city that was High Charity come straight at them.
In just a few short moments Peter made it and immediately dived through it. During his dive, he managed to catch the Chieftain's eye and his exclamation of, "No! Stop th—"
Before Peter's vision faded to black, he cracked a smile as he saw his teammates jump right in. Where ever this thing lead to, he sure as hell didn't have to go alone.
Unknown Location:
Corporal Parker, or Hell-Spider, or his callsign Spider-Man, regained consciousness to find himself on a medical bed. He seemed to be a bright room, and glancing to both his right and left he also found the others in the same situation.
Confused, Peter asked himself aloud, "How the hell did we get here?"
The only door in the room slid open. Peter began to notice that the whole room looked Forerunner. With a steeled expression, Peter watched a spherical object float in.
Recognizing the entity, Peter called to it. "Spark?"
"Hmm?" The object turned towards the source of his voice.
Peter could now get a clear look at this entity. Immediately, he noticed that the object's single eye was colored a bright orange. A major contrast when compared to the one he was familiar with. The one who tried to murder his friend on Halo.
The eye of the Forerunner monitor blinked almost excitedly before rushing up to Peter, surprising the seasoned veteran.
"Oh, my! You're awake! But how is that…"
"Where am I?" Peter rudely interrupted. He was in no position to take on this possible threat. Though, he did seem friendly. "Who are you?"
The monitor responded like a scripted program. Almost robotically. "Hello! I am 377 Solemn Magnitude. I am the monitor of the Forerunner facility stationed in the universe categorized as number thirty-seven." The monitor paused for a moment and circled Peter who was now sitting up. "Welcome, Reclaimer."
"Reclaim—oh, right." Peter sighed before his eyes widened. "Wait, universe? What do you mean?"
"Yes, universe 37." Solemn Magnitude affirmed. "I assume you had gone through the portal of transgression located on the Ark, correct?"
"Portal, huh?" Peter muttered. "Covenant always misinterpret things."
Clearing his throat, Peter replied, "Yes, I did." He glanced towards his seemingly sleeping teammates resting on a similar medical bed. "Are they still unconscious? Wait, what happened to our gear? Why do I feel weird?"
Peter noticed his lack of equipment. He was stripped of his armor and helmet, and so were his teammates. All that they had on at the moment was their ODST BDU which was half concealed by the blanket draped over their abdomen. Then there was that weird feeling that Peter began to take notice of. He couldn't explain it, but he felt like something was changed about him.
Solemn Magnitude addressed Peter's concerns professionally. "Yes, your allies are still unconscious. You and your companions' armor is currently undergoing decontamination procedures—and did you say you felt strange?"
A confused expression crossed the remarkable ODST's face. "Decontamination? What do you—never mind. And, uh, yes, I do feel strange as you said."
The monitor hovered more closely to Peter as if to study his face. Was he looking for something located on his face? Was there something weird displayed?
'Wait…' Peter finally felt the absence of something particularly hairy.
"Tell me, do you feel young?" Solemn Magnitude stressed the final word, his eyes glowing even brighter. Did this thing know what happened to him?
"...Now that you mention it, yeah. I do. Wait—don't tell me…" Peter frantically looked around the room and his eyes landed on a mirror strung across from his bed. Looking more closely, Peter found that, after inspecting his face, he was without the facial hair that was almost fully grown. In fact, he looked younger. The structure of his face just reminded him of himself as a teenager.
"Hmm. Interesting," Solemn Magnitude hummed thoughtfully. "It seems as if you have a counterpart in this universe."
Peter looked absolutely bewildered that soon transformed to shock. The dormant scientific part of his brain began to resurface. He had a counterpart? That was basically a clone; like a doppelganger but the similarities ended when it came to life experiences and memories.
"What?" Peter said dumbly.
"It's the only explanation as to why you've regained consciousness much more earlier than your companions. It also explains your youth. Your body is adjusting to this universe's you. Does that make sense?"
"Yeah, kind of," Peter replied, nodding.
"Those who pass through the portal of transgression and end up here do suffer minor consequences if they are without a counterpart here. It seems as though your friends are unlike you."
Peter turned to look at his team lying in their respective beds. At a glance, Peter would've thought of them dead. Romeo looked the most dead in Peter's opinion. His open mouth was bound to catch flies, Peter mused.
"How long until they fully recover?" Peter questioned, his eyes refocusing on the monitor who had hovered away earlier.
"Rough estimates give about a month, Reclaimer." Solemn Magnitude replied regretfully, his bright orange hue dimming as he saw the crestfallen look that overtook Peter's face. "In the meantime, I'd like to give you a tour of the facility."
Peter began to push himself off the advanced Forerunner cot, his booted feet landing on the marble floor with a soft thud. He rolled his shoulders to rid of the tense feeling before replying. "Okay, show me."
The tour began with an area that acted as some sort of technological garage. Peter found it to be intriguing, especially the machine that supposedly replicates any vehicle by simply scanning one's brain. No schematics, blueprints, or instructions were required. It was all based on the user's memory and experience. Peter decided to put it to the test.
"You'll be pleasantly surprised of the lengths this machine will go to." Solemn Magnitude informed Peter proudly.
Shrugging, Peter hooked up the headpiece that looked like a hairband and placed it upon his head.
"Any vehicle that comes to mind, Reclaimer." Solemn Magnitude gave a friendly reminder.
Peter envisioned a Covenant Brute Chopper. Peter couldn't believe what he saw. Right before his eyes, in just a little under a minute, a Chopper slowly materialized like a hologram.
"Go ahead," Solemn Magnitude motioned for Peter to test the vehicle.
Though, Peter was hesitant about approaching the vehicle. The memories and experiences he had with the terrorizer were nothing but bad. Still, he had to try.
Peter was pleasantly surprised to find that it was indeed drivable. He was even more surprised and extremely puzzled that the autocannon weapons were there and fully functional. Though, the method he used to learn they worked was unconventional and ended with a destroyed Forerunner beam. Safe to say Solemn Penance was quite unhappy. Peter then decided to try the materializer thingamajig one more time before moving on.
Placing it on his head again, Peter was about to create another vehicle with his mind. He was interrupted in the form of several sentinels appearing.
"What's going on?" Peter asked Solemn Magnitude, ready to bolt out of the room if necessary.
"Do not fret, Reclaimer. They are just here to clean up the mess you've made and move the vehicle to the storage area."
Peter cautiously watched the Forerunner androids as they repaired the destroyed beam and take the Chopper away by encasing it in some sort of shield. It was like the shield was attached to the single robot and hovered inches below it. From there, the sentinel moved forward and the wall suddenly opened, leading to an unknown area. Once their tasks were finished and disappeared to who knows where Peter went to where he was previously standing trepidatiously. He waited for a moment before envisioning yet another vehicle. This time he was thinking big. Literally.
Peter watched in awe as the tremendous M850 MBT began to materialize, though it took much longer than the Chopper did. He guessed size played a role when it came to the time it took to create a vehicle.
Once it was 100% completed, Peter didn't hesitate to rush towards the beauty and hop right in. He'd never piloted a tank before, but there's a first time for everything. Peter found that, much like the Chopper, the weapon systems were there and functional. However, he didn't want to test it for fear of leveling the entire facility. He was satisfied with the end result and hopped right out. The sentinels came once more and it took about five of them to move the heavy battle tank. God, the sight of its treads and double cannon made Peter's day. Overall, Peter was thoroughly impressed with the machine and voiced his thoughts. Solemn Magnitude looked ecstatic.
The tour continued and finished in about thirty minutes. Peter's summary of the facility was short and simple. The only things that were noteworthy were the vehicle replicator doohickey, device replicator, and some sort of barracks. That would make a good place to stay for the time being until another greater option presented itself.
The device replicator did what Peter would expect given the name and more.
"Not only does it create devices based on memory, but it also creates weapons, items, armor, and anything else you can think of. So long as you have at least a memory of it. No experience required." Solemn Magnitude told Peter. At that moment, Peter could only think of those old advertisements that had that, "No assembly required," quote at the end.
"What do I do now?" Peter asked, seeking guidance from his only helper at the moment.
"Well, Reclaimer—"
"Please, start calling me Peter."
"Your last name?" The monitor asked out of the blue, making Peter give the object a curious look.
"Parker. Why?"
The monitor was silent for about ten seconds. Peter patiently waited for the response, tapping his foot against the slab of the Forerunner alloyed floor.
"Peter Parker. You do in fact have a counterpart."
"How do you know for certain?"
"From my quick but rough scan, I have found a missing person report issued from the New York Police Department."
"Wait, we're on Earth?" Peter's eyes widened at the thought.
"Yes, did I not mention that?" Solemn Magnitude came closer to Peter.
"No, you didn't!"
"Oh, I apologize, Recl—Peter."
Realization hit Peter like a plasma grenade exploding. Missing person? Did him coming in this universe displace his counterpart?
"When was this report filed?" Peter asked, beginning to pace across the room. Multiple thoughts raced through his mind throughout the whole ordeal.
"I can assure you that this was reported before you and companions showed up."
So that theory was shot down...or maybe not. His counterpart could still be displaced. That missing person report didn't do anything to help prove or disprove that.
"Okay, let me think for a moment." Peter's pacing intensified as he clasped his hands behind his back.
"As you wish," Solemn Magnitude respectfully bided.
'He needs a nickname soon.' Peter mused before shaking his to refocus.
After a long contemplative moment of thinking to himself, Peter ordered, "Give me a brief rundown of this Earth—only major information starting from about...let's say from 1900 to now. Unless we are set before 1900, then…"
Solemn Magnitude complied and compiled all the relevant information. After an extensive history lecture from the monitor, Peter picked out the important facts. World War I matched up, however when it came to World War II there was some inconsistencies. The formation date of the United Nations didn't match the one he was taught in school, but the most surprising detail was that the United States military had developed a super soldier: Captain America. Then there was the HYDRA Nazi organization and Red Skull. That baffled Peter.
Fast forwarding to the modern era, there was a billionaire with a suit of armor, some pissed of green dude, and a literal god of thunder. Or lightning. The ODST wasn't sure.
Then there was the formation of the Avengers, Fantastic Four, and all the vigilantes.
'Spider-Man…' Peter repeated in his head. That was his go-to callsign when it came to operations. Peter entertained the idea that his counterpart was behind the mask of the arachnid vigilante that was only considered a myth. The idea began to make even more sense when Spider-Man stopped appearing at around the same time his counterpart disappeared. Peter didn't want to believe it, but it is most likely the case.
After all of that was said and done Peter wasn't sure of what to do. "What do you suggest I do, Mag?" Again, Peter sought guidance from the Forerunner monitor.
Solemn Magnitude was unresponsive for a few seconds before realization hit the monitor. "Are you referring to me, Rec—Peter?"
"Yeah. That's your nickname: Mag."
Solemn Magnitude paused as if processing the information before replying, "I will now also respond to that designation, Recl—Peter."
The damn thing was struggling to transition from calling Peter a Reclaimer. So, Peter decided to spare the monitor the pain and headache. That is if the monitor could have something as such. "Alright, you can stop calling me Peter now. I guess Reclaimer will do."
"As you wish, Reclaimer," Mag nodded. "To answer your question, I suggest you replace your counterpart's position for the time being."
"How old is he again?"
"I believe he recently reached the age of sixteen," Mag stated. "Records indicate that he is under the care of the guardians designated as Benjamin and May Parker soon after the passing of his biological parents designated as Richard and Mary Parker."
"Okay, you don't need to get technical here, Mag." Peter rolled his eyes at the expanded vocabulary used. The death of his counterpart's parents didn't affect him as much. "So, what? You just want me to stroll up to their home and make up a lie to Uncle Ben and Aunt May of my disappearance?"
That didn't sound too bad now that Peter thought about it. Even though they weren't his Aunt May or the badass that was his Uncle Ben, they were still themselves. He could finally see them with his own eyes for the first time in twenty years. This could be the only time he'll see Aunt May and Uncle Ben for a while considering the former was dead and the latter was missing.
The thought of Aunt May being dead suddenly angered him. Then came the thought of his dead friends who had moved on from him but never forgotten. He shook himself of those thoughts. He had to focus on the positives. Aunt May and Uncle Ben were alive and well, and so were his friends.
"Technically you only have to lie to May Parker, Reclaimer. Benjamin Parker was shot dead not long ago."
'Okay, what a dick.'
Peter glared at the monitor who held no unreadable expression. "Did you seriously have to drop the ball on me like that?"
The monitor looked regretful when Peter spoke so lowly. "I apologize if what I said was inappropriate…"
"Whatever, he's not my Uncle Ben, anyway." The ODST dismissed the action casually before a solemn look appeared in his eyes. "But, still…"
"What do you plan to do, Reclaimer?"
Peter mulled over his options. He could stay here and lay low and wait for his team to wake up in about a month or so. From there Buck should know what to do. Hopefully.
Then there was the other option that consisted of getting out and replacing his counterpart's position in his life. Scummy? Yes, but it was better than staying holed up in a facility full of nothing.
Peter looked directly into the monitor's eye and answered with finality, "I'm going up."
Then there was that question that plagued his mind. "Why don't I sound like a prepubescent kid?"
His age matched the one of his counterpart but hadn't his voice changed. It would sound out of place for those who knew his counterpart if he started talking in a gruff and somewhat hoarse manner. Twenty years in the ODSTs almost entirely spent fighting the Covenant did that to your voice.
"Your body's adjusted to match your counterpart's age. Other qualities don't apply."
"That doesn't explain why I don't have my kickass beard anymore," Peter said, folding his arms.
"That is...another issue I cannot fully explain, Reclaimer."
Peter sighed tiredly. "Great." The Hell-Spider looked around the room for the exit. "So, where's the exit so that I can reach the surface? How long until I get my armor done?"
The monitor began moving forward, his orange colored eye lighting up each time he spoke. "Right this way, Reclaimer." The monitor lead the displaced ODST towards one of the rooms. "Your armor has been contaminated with an endless amount of human blood. Quite the mess, too. I believe it should be decontaminated by the end of the day."
"That's...good news." Peter breathed out, a hitch in his breathing pattern. His mind wandered back to that gruesome scene of all ten Marines being executed in horrific and unnecessary ways. His body acted on its own as it followed the monitor, and its peaceful humming fell on deaf ears as Peter was in his own little world, replaying the scene over and over. His eyes were glazed over as he vividly visualized the incident. What was strange was that Peter suddenly found himself back on the Ark where the scene took place.
"Wha—?"
"Help me…" Peter found himself in front of the Marine lying helpless. He was forced to stare directly into the eyes of the pleading Marine. How could he hear his voice? He clearly recalled that his voice was inaudible at the time. So why now?
"Help me…!" Peter was startled to find that the voice became much more vocal and apparent. In a flash, the Marine's head was split open and Peter found his vision coated with dark crimson.
Peter's head was spinning. Each Marine death flashed before his eyes. The roars of the Covenant sounded deafening, but each scream from each Marine was earsplitting.
Peter felt his eyes water and moved to wipe them. He was stunned to find that it wasn't tears. It was blood. The blood of the Marines who had been slaughtered ruthlessly.
Unnerved, Peter felt himself back up only to hit a solid object. Spinning around, he came face to face with Staff Sergeant Sol. His eyes were empty, devoid of any life or emotion. Peter stumbled and fell to the floor. There was a warm and liquidy sensation when his hands hit the floor. More blood. Bodies, limbs, green, and blood!
Peter starred at Sol, and in a flash, something startling happened. Sol's head popped clean off, flying through the air in what seemed like slow motion. Blood sprayed from the detached area like a fountain.
"No, no, no…" Peter muttered, breathing heavily. "Oh, god, no."
Voices, both familiar and unknown, suddenly resonated from all directions. They all seemed to chant his name in a monotonous manner.
"Hell-Spider...Hell-Spider." They chanted. Peter heard drums—no, that didn't sound right. It was the thumping of what sounded like ten heartbeats. It was deafening and it almost drove Peter mad.
The scenes of the Marines being murdered played in front of him for the second time. Each time one died the number of heartbeats decreased. Peter couldn't find it himself to close his eyes or look away.
When it came to one heartbeat it was mostly silent. Up until the point when Sol appeared in front of him out of nowhere. The two stared at each other, and Peter knew he was going mad. But it just felt too real to be an illusion.
"—laimer!" A recognizable voice cut in. The area around Peter rippled for a moment.
"Reclaimer!" Solemn Magnitude shouted as soon as the vision faded through a ripple.
Peter gasped, subtly clutching his chest. He took a look at his surroundings and discovered that he was in some sort of room with multiple crates stacked in rows.
"Oh, uh…"
"Reclaimer, your vitals just spiked. What is the matter?" Mag asked, his orange light dimming a bit to show his concern.
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine." Peter shook off the illusion or whatever that was.
"...If that is the case," Magnitude said, sounding unconvinced.
"So, where's the exit?" Peter regained his composure just enough to ask a simple question.
"You are standing right on top of it," Solemn Magnitude replied in an amused tone, descending below Peter's torso.
Looking down, Peter found his two booted feet planted on a circular slab with Forerunner markings. "So, is this some sort of elevator or…?"
"This device you're standing on will, in a sense, teleport you to a select location on the planet. However, there must also be a receiver node so it is very limited."
"Please tell me you've set one up in New York somewhere." Peter half pleaded.
"Fortunately, I did. However, the distance from where you'll appear to the Parker residence is quite remarkable."
"I'll walk," Peter concluded. He could use one, anyway. Just to clear his mind and get used to the 21st Century environment. The worn out ODST had a feeling that he'd have a hard time adjusting and integrating himself to the 21st Century. For now, he'll make do.
"If that is what you wish," Mag respected the decision. "I will now input the coordinates, Reclaimer. Stand by."
Peter patiently waited for Solemn Magnitude to do his thing. Maybe sometime along the line, the construct would teach him how to operate his technology. He didn't bother paying attention to what the floating bowling ball was doing, he was still reflecting back on the whole ordeal. Peter didn't know what the hell that was, but he had an idea that it was something like a panic attack or something.
"It is done," Solemn Magnitude announced, turning his eyeball of a head toward Peter's direction. "Please wait a moment."
Peter both felt and heard the thing below him activate. The vibrations, the whirring, and a repetitive pulse. On the seventh pulse, Peter vanished.
New York, Manhattan:
Times Square:
Corporal Peter Parker found himself in an alleyway. The first thing that came to mind was his appearance. He was still in his BDU, and that would both look odd and suspicious if he was wearing a military uniform in public. Looking for anything to help him his eyes landed on an area where a blue grid-like object appeared. Peter recognized it immediately.
"Damn, he planned ahead."
A pair of clothes materialized in the area where the blue grid appeared along with a note. Kneeling down, Peter retrieved the note and read its contents. An address that was unfamiliar to him was on the card.
'Must be the Parker address,' Peter thought as he placed it beside the clothing articles for the moment. Dressing out of the BDU in exchange for casual civilian attire consisting of a plain red t-shirt and dark blue jeans, Peter then picked up the notecard and slipped it into one of the pockets of his jeans. The BDU was tossed onto the platform in which he appeared, and soon that vanished. He hoped Magnitude knew how to do laundry...
Peter stepped out of the alley and was mesmerized by the amount of activity he stumbled upon.
Civilians were everywhere and crowded the wide and open area. Business suits, casual, and the typical parent with their children caught his eye. He barely recognized the area as Times Square. Sure, it existed back in his own...universe, but it certainly wasn't this colorful and packed when he last remembered looking at a photo of it.
Then there were the automobiles. Hordes of yellow taxi cabs dominated the area. It looked to be about six taxi cabs for every ten cars.
Those who passed the apparent teenager utterly ignored him in favor of looking at their phone or were holding a conversation on their phone. Peter didn't care.
Shaking his head, the ODST refocused on his current objective: Get to the Parker residence.
Reaching deep into his pocket, Parker pulled out the notecard and focused on the address. The Parker residence was located in Queens. If Peter remembered the layout of New York back in school, then…
"Ah, hell…" Peter groaned. That would be too far of a walk. So, he searched for an alternative. There was no way in hell that he was going to take a cab. Not yet, at least.
Peter's observant eyes landed on a subway entrance. Guess he'll take the primitive train to Queens, then.
20 minutes later…
Peter was grateful that the subway trip proved to be uneventful for the most part. No one recognized him and no one asked questions. No one bothered him, just the way he liked it.
Taking his last step down the staircase, Peter pulled out the address from his pocket again. Looking it over, he passed each house in the suburban neighborhood. Luckily, his stop was much closer to his destination than he expected.
At last, he was just one house away. The Parker home should be right next to the home he was passing by where a familiar redhead had come out to take out a full trash bag. Neither paid no mind to each other since the two were occupied. She had been looking at her device the whole time. The ODST guessed it was some sort of smartphone considering the time period.
When Peter was directly in front of his supposed house he studied the home. It was vastly different than the one his Aunt May and Uncle Ben owned on Reach. Smaller, too. Also technologically inferior, but that's beside the point. The redhead the veteran was sure was Mary Jane Watson didn't return back to her household, and instead opted to stare at her phone beside the white picket fence. She didn't matter, anyway. Not now.
Sighing, Peter slipped the notecard in his pocket once more and took a deep breath. One tentative step and he was now entering the Parker property. Why did Forest Hills, Queens seem like the right place for a Parker home, Peter wondered.
'Damn, if only I had my weapons on me right now…'
Peter declared to himself that he would be returning to that same alleyway sometime during the day to go back and properly equip himself. Anyway, Peter took another step, and another, and another, and another…
Peter eventually reached the door that blocked him from going inside the Parker home. Scanning for some sort of terminal he was familiar with back home, he soon facepalmed as he realized this was not 2500s. His search was not in vain. Parker had found a circular and round button integrated to the wall to the right.
'The doorbell, right…'
The helljumper clicked his tongue as soon as he rang the doorbell. One thing was for sure, Aunt May was in for one helluva surprise.
Peter heard the foreign clicks resonating from the other side of the door and then a creak. Soon, the door opened to reveal Aunt May...a bit older looking than he remembered.
"Peter..?" Aunt May gasped, her eyes widening. Her hand instinctively reached for her mouth out of shock.
Peter was unsure of what to say as well. This Aunt May was different looking, sure. But there was always that warmth she exuded that the ODST was familiar with his own Aunt. "Uh, hi, Aunt May." He greeted in his gruff and deep voice that was not normally found in a teenager.
"P-Peter!" Aunt May immediately enveloped Peter in a crushing embrace. Peter could hear her sniffles and his shoulder becoming a little bit wet. His response was to return the embrace awkwardly.
Then there was that uncanny feeling that someone else was watching the exchange. Peter suspected that it was that uncaring Mary Jane. To be sure, he subtly looked over his shoulder and his suspicions were proven correct. Mary Jane's expression was neutral while she witnessed the scene unfold before her.
The corporal felt May finally pull away from the embrace, so he refocused on the situation at hand.
Peter barely registered the slap to the cheek. His hand went to rub the sore spot not out of pain, but out of instinct. He's suffered worse than that.
"Peter Benjamin Parker, what the hell happened?! Where did you go?" Aunt May demanded. Hearing her curse was unusual, but he did have to deliver his alibi.
"I was, uh…" Shit. What was his excuse? He couldn't bring himself to lie to Aunt May. But he couldn't exactly tell her the truth either. The harsh truth. Well, this wasn't exactly the Aunt May he grew up with, so maybe he could bring himself to lie. But, dammit! They shared the same traits!
Peter cleared his throat and delivered his excuse. "I was, uh, kidnapped."
The helljumper saw the worried look that crossed May's face and added, "Don't worry, they didn't get away with it. Spider-Man saved me just last night."
Aunt May wiped the tears from her eyes. "I-I thought Spider-Man was gone? He disappeared, did he not?"
Peter shrugged, "I guess not." For a bonus, Peter added, "I—glad to be home."
Aunt May's warm smile was contagious. Peter couldn't help but return it. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He was going to make the best of it.
"Oh, come inside, dear. I'll prepare a meal. You must be starving!" Aunt May said, opening the door a bit to allow Peter entry and then proceeded to make her way to the kitchen.
Wow, she must've read his mind, Peter mused. He was hungry, and it's been a very, very long time since he's tasted Aunt May's delicious cooking. This one shouldn't be any different.
Stepping inside, he spared one last glance at the redhead who still maintained that neutral expression. There was also a hint of curiosity, Peter could tell.
Pursing his lips, Peter sealed the door and inspected the living room.
He heard the clattering of silverware and cooking utensils from the kitchen. Peter wasn't used to seeing how primitive the entire cottage was. Still, Peter strolled around and looked at one of the many family photos. This one consisted of Uncle Ben, a younger counterpart, and Aunt May.
Peter heard Aunt May's voice come from the kitchen in a reminding tone saying, "Make sure to sleep early, dear. The first day of school starts tomorrow!"
Oh, hell no. That was it. Tonight, he was definitely going back to get himself equipped. God knows the dangers of a 21st Century high school, especially if Flash Thompson existed.
The Next Day:
Midtown High School:
Peter had left home earlier than his Aunt certainly expected. Well, that was what she was going to find out when she woke up and discovers a note he left on the counter.
Peter didn't go out that night thanks to being under the watchful eye that belonged to Aunt May. Instead, he woke up early, about 0300 hours or so, and made a quick trip to the alleyway he came from. The receiver node was also two-way, so he could travel back and forth between the Facility and New York. Though, he's going to have to ask Solemn Magnitude and figure out a way to set up a node much more convenient to where he was living.
Peter hopped back into the facility that Solemn Magnitude monitored and found said monitor looking over his teammates in the medical wing.
"Their bodies are still adjusting to this universe," Magnitude reminded Peter. "Without a blueprint to go off of, in this case, your blueprint is your counterpart, it will take about a month for them to fully adjust."
"Yes, I know," Peter rolled his eyes. Nothing new so far. "Is my gear ready? I need some equipment for school."
Solemn Magnitude nodded, making no comment of Peter's school bag that was strapped to him nor did he make one of Peter's request of bringing equipment to school.
Mag lead Peter to a room where a few sentinels were busy cleaning and washing away the blood from his teammate's armor. His, however, was relatively clean; free of all the dirt and grime that once covered it.
"You will find your armor to be in satisfactory condition, Reclaimer." The monitor rattled on, hovering next to the crate where his gear laid untouched. "What do you require?"
The first thing that Peter reached for was his trusty fangs. God, the customized combat knife was a beauty to the corporal. He made sure to grab the sheath placed near his shoulder pieces.
'Hmm, nothing to attach this baby to…' Peter examined his civilian apparel, stumped.
As if reading his thoughts, Mag had a sentinel bring two holster-like objects for Peter.
"Wow, thanks." Peter nodded as he grabbed the two items, appreciating the gesture.
"Think nothing of it, Reclaimer."
'Damn, read my mind again.' Peter chuckled at the thought as an idea came to mind. Their weapons didn't make it since the Covenant had stripped them of it.
"I need to use the device replicator, Mag."
"Right this way," Mag said, shooing the sentinel android away to continue with whatever duties he was assigned.
Just like that, with a single thought, Peter had created the reliable M6C/SOCOM semi-automatic pistol. He also made sure to replicate three 12.7mmx40mm SAPHP magazines. A bit overkill? Yes. Peter could never be too safe in an environment like school. He had to stay on his toes and the fact that supervillains were a thing now. Sooner a later a villain was bound to attack a school at any given moment for their own agendas.
"Those are Misriah holsters, Reclaimer," Mag informed Peter exuberantly. "They also have an active-camouflage feature built in them to conceal your weapons."
"These are more like holster clips, but I can see where the idea of a holster came from," Peter replied, attaching the two holsters to his brown belt that he didn't have to necessarily wear. It was just a habit from the days he spent on a ship walking around aimlessly.
The active-camouflage feature worked flawlessly to the outsider's eye. But to the user, it was quite visible.
"Uh, it's not working?" Peter pointed at the two holsters. Had he broken it by pressing the button on each holster? Was that button not meant to be pressed? Peter was utterly confused.
For the first time, Peter heard Magnitude chuckle lightheartedly. "No, Reclaimer. They are visible to you, but to everyone else, they are very much invisible."
"How am I supposed to know that? How the hell does that even work?" Peter asked as he prodded the two holsters clip to each side of his belt.
"When the green light here," Mag shined his orange light to the location he was referring to on the holster, and indeed it showed green, "then that indicates it is active. If it is orange, then it is inactive."
"Huh, that's pretty neat," Peter commented with an approving look. "Thanks for the stuff, Mag."
"My pleasure."
"Guess I'll get going now. Gonna do a little workout then head to school." Peter said more to himself than to Magnitude as he dusted himself off and straightened out his black shirt.
So, Peter bid farewell to the friendly monitor and resurfaced. He wasn't about to let himself go just because of a simple relocation and no reason to fight.
After his three and a half hour workout, it was about time to get to school. He still maintained in top physical shape and looked prepared to go into battle at a moment's notice.
Now, Peter found himself chugging his water jug out in front of the Midtown Manhattan Magnet High School. To think his counterpart attended this dump while he lived all the way out in Forest Hills?
Peter had to sigh. He didn't want to go to school. He's a junior all over again. But, he couldn't stand idly by knowing that Aunt May was without any company. She was sure she had lost her nephew like she had lost Uncle Ben. That reminded him. He needed to search for his missing counterpart sooner or later.
Sighing in content after chugging a portion of the water jug's contents, Peter placed in back in his school bag that felt empty and weightless compared to the gear he carried. Actually, Peter had a sudden urge to have one Sweet William before he started school. Ever since Johnson had recently introduced it to him it was pretty good at calming his nerves without all the consequences.
Suddenly, Peter felt a force push him forward and made him stumble into the ground. Laughter and guffaws followed from all around as Peter picked himself back up and dusted himself. Looks like this universe's Peter was no stranger to ridiculing and harassment.
"Haha! Puny Parker, glad to see you!" The familiar voice of Flash Thompson reached his ears. Looking back, Peter saw Flash and what seemed to be the popular crowd. The usual were there: Liz, Sally, Rand, Glory, and Kenny. They looked no different than the ones he was used to save for the green and white letterman jacket and cheerleader uniforms. When he saw the three others laughing along he knew that this Peter Parker truly had no friends.
Honestly, Peter felt betrayed when his eyes landed on Mary Jane, Gwen, and Harry. Mary Jane and Harry still had their red hair, Mary Jane more so than Harry. But Peter had to admit that Gwen looked far more prettier than his Gwen. She lacked the glasses and baggy clothing and went for more something more revealing and let her hair down.
Peter reminded himself that these were not the people he had grown up with.
"God, what a fucking geek," Sally remarked with venom, scowling at Peter. The ODST wasn't going to put up with this shit and returned fire verbally.
"God, what a fucking slut with an ear-splitting voice," Peter practically growled, silencing the entire courtyard.
The helljumper wasn't sure if everyone in the area was shocked of hearing such a gruff and maturely developed voice coming from the school's own Puny Parker or that the school's own laughing stock verbally ripped Sally Avril, the popular cheerleader, to shreds.
Sally looked absolutely livid after that snarky remark he made. She was about to move towards Peter and physically assault him but Flash's arm prevented her from doing so.
Looking at Flash, Peter saw a cold look replace his once amused expression. Peter gave his own look; a challenging one at that. Silence. Peter could handle that given that he operated in such conditions.
Flash Thompson contemplated whether delivering the blow for Sally or opt for something else. Either way, Peter was ready. His hand reached for the holster containing his blade, ready to draw it out should Flash proceed with his attack.
"Come on, Eugene," Peter lowly taunted, coming off menacingly to everyone. "Gonna hit for the girl or what?"
A/N: Man, I have entertained that idea way too long. I hope this long chapter makes up for the extremely long delay in updating.
I think the graphic scene in here with the execution of all ten Marines really shows how dangerous and brutal the Covenant really is. The games watered that down for obvious reasons. But this is the Brutes we are talking about here. Savage and untamed beasts.
And yeah, that's right. Plasma weapons can easily do that. I mean, come on it's plasma!
Review, and PM suggestions/ideas. Criticism is welcome considering I am not that good of a writer and I hope to improve.
Okay, bye. See you all in the next one.