"What do we do now?" the blue-and-red Spider-Man (as opposed to the traditional red-and-blue Spider-Man costume) asked as he sat in the Society dining room. Which was more like a massive mall food court but calling it that sounded rude and rather offensive, considering all the food they had available for Spider's to grab. While they had had the standard hot dogs and New York style pizza that most Spider-Men loved to wolf down there were also places that made up fine steak, gourmet salads, authentic Indian Food, non-authentic Chinese food (even those that came from worlds based on ancient China agreed the modern American take was SOOOOO much better), and everything inbetween. It also had clean tables that would have fit in well at any high end New York establishment, large windows that showed off Nueva York, and was a common place for Spiders to gather and get some food when they were visiting.

'But there isn't much eating at the moment, is there?' the listening Spider-Man, separate from the group that were currently brooding over cheap coffee they'd snagged from a vending machine, thought to himself. Nearly all the resturuants had closed up early for the day, realizing that no one was really in the mood to eat. All that was left were machines making processed garbage, loaded up with preservatives. 'Unless one counts regret and guilt.'

"I don't know Reverse Spider-Man," another Spider, this one wearing the robes of a student of Kamar-Taj, said as he waved his hand, causing the mystical construct that formed his costume to peel back to reveal his mouth so he could sip his coffee.

"Don't call me that," Reverse Spider-Man said. "But seriously, what do we do now? Stay here?" He gestured around the dining room. It wasn't exactly empty, seeing as there were plenty of Spiders mingling about, but compared to how it normally was it might as well have been completely emptied out. The group of five that were currently huddled around the table were the largest bunch, as most other members of the Society just wanted to be left alone, dealing with all that had happened. The Listener saw several curled up on themselves, staring blankly at the walls or the ceiling or their own feet, unable to even move. One or two fights had brought out but no one had really had the energy to do anything about that and eventually those too had petered away into quiet contemplation.

No one knew what to do. The events of the last few hours… they had left them all horrified and scared and questioning everything they knew.

"We should talk to Miguel," a Spider-Man who looked the same as all the other Spiders except, for some strange reason, he had on a police officer's cap on his head… and a clearly fake moustache just below where his nose was. He was also far taller and broader than most Spiders. "Find out why he did all… that."

'Asking the question far too late, aren't you?' the Listener thought to himself, not bothering to look over at the others as he listened in on their conversation. 'You had no problems bending your morals until they nearly formed a circle of foolishness… but now that a boy may be dying because of your actions all you can do is wring your hands together and ask things you should have considered long ago.' He looked down at the files he'd snagged from the hospital; bleeding in the brain, fractured skull, and that didn't count the other injuries he'd gotten in the chase. He used a pencil to jot down a few ideas for him to consider later.

"Miguel is locked up in his tower," Sorcerer Spider reminded them. "No one in or out. I tried to go up there, see if I could help out with dealing with the aftermath, but was turned away. No one talks to Miguel. Drew is seeing to that." Though he tried to maintain his calm he spat out the name like it was a foul poison. That made the snooping Spider curious; what had Drew done (other than align herself even now with O'Hara out of a sense of misplaced loyalty) to upset the man so? It was an interesting little tidbit and on any other day he would have taken the time to research the origins of the man's displeasure… but not today. Not with all that had happened. "NO offense," he said, turning to the fourth member of their group.

"She isn't my sister," Jamie Drew, Spider-Woman Blue, stated.

"How is Jess doing?" Spider-Cop asked and the Listener realized that Spider-Woman Red was no where to be found. Usually the twins were stuck together… literally on more than one occasion.

"Not well," Blue replied. "This is bringing back bad memories. We're trying to get sent back home… they shut down all the bracelets, so that no one can leave without Spider-Byte's approval. I was going to wait in line but she didn't want to be around people… we'll probably stick here til tomorrow and hopefully head out then."

The Listener pressed his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. 'Jamie and Jessica Drew lost their little brother during the Stark Riots…' He felt sorry for the sisters; from what he had gathered Julian Drew had been a rather cunning young man, figuring out how to mimic Spider-Abilities using technology. A gifted mind taken before it could make a difference had always been something that he mourned over.

"Assuming Miguel doesn't lock us up here," Reverse muttered.

"What do you mean?" Sorcerer asked.

"Come on… you don't see Miguel panicking when he realizes how many have abandoned the Society and declaring we all have to stay? That's why he shut off the bracelets… from what I've heard 15% of us have already quit."

Spider-Cop shook his head. "Its for safety though… enough problems with the multiverse… people need to take a moment before they go running off…" He paused. "What?" Spider-Cop said suddenly and the snooping Spider glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Reverse Spider-Man glowering at him.

"Just making sure you don't say something stupid."

"Like what?" Spider-Cop said before letting out a disgusted huff. "Don't you dare try and shove words in my mouth, thinking I'd be all 'he should have complied'." The man lifted up his mask to reveal his dark skin. "Don't forget that when I take off this costume I get cops glaring at me."

Sorcerer held up his hands. "No one thinks that about you, Jeffrey."

Spider-Cop nodded before looking down at his coffee. "I didn't hear who we were chasing… I arrived late, after Miguel gave out the call. If I had known…"

"We know," Jaime promised him, placing a hand on his arm. "You'd never do that."

"My son could have been him," Jeffrey whispered. "If The Hyena hadn't taken him…"

'Hmmm… perhaps this is similar to what happened on that one earth, where Peter's daughter was kidnapped on the day of her birth, never seen again, believed dead.' The Listener once more schooled his features into utter neutrality; it might have shocked those that only knew him because of the actions of his counterparts but he didn't hate Peter Parker. Oh, he thought him a fool many times, especially when he was running about as Spider-Man and putting on his comedic act… but he didn't hate him. In fact he'd met many Peters that made him wonder, in another life, if he couldn't have perhaps been like a father to one of them.

He didn't want to see Peter suffer. Not even…

Well, he didn't think about that anymore.

"We need to go see Miguel," Sorcerer finally said. "We need answers. And we need to still determine what the Society will do now."

"Is there even a Society left?" Jaime asked.

They didn't have an answer for that. Nor did the Listener as he got up and walked away.

He moved down several flights of stairs (actually walking down them rather than leaping like so many did… such a frivolous use of power…) before ducking into a small office that he'd selected as his own. Every Spider had one though so few bothered to use them. For a Society made of such bright people far too many Spiders were utterly lazy. And those that did tended to see it more as a game to play… decorating them, filling them with useless clutter, all of the sort.

No… he had better use for his office.

Extending the metal spider-legs from his back he carefully directed them to touch certain points on the wall, carefully hidden so that no one even realized they were connection points to activate his device. Placing his hands on his desk and causing the true keyboard (not the fake that he'd set up to go with the decoy computer that sat on the desk) he typed in a few commands before he felt himself shift.

While the room looked exactly as it had from the moment he walked in he knew that it wasn't. In fact he wasn't even in the same universe anymore. No… he had teleported across the Multiverse (and he would continue calling it such… Spiderverse was just so arrogant) and arrived at his true headquarters.

Taking just a moment to make sure no one had come in (they hadn't) he left his office and quickly saw his five other compatriots were waiting for him already. 'Good… they understand the seriousness of all this.'

"Is it true what is being said?" Hunter-Spider asked, looking up from the blade he was sharpening. His voice was hard, just as sharp as the knife. "Has the Society lost all traces of honor?"

"They have," the listener stated. "They blindly went after Miles Morales of Earth 1610."

"Which one," Weaver asked, hands refusing to remain still as he created the illusion of several Earths. "We give numbers to these worlds and they discover there are offshoots of the offshoots."

"Does it matter?" Night-Spider asked, the only female member of the group. She was lounging on a sofa, probably thinking she looked enticing but none of the other members of their small group cared for such things. It was a waste of time on her part… most likely just habit at that point. But at that point her tone lacked the natural put it always had, instead being laced with worry. "According to what my little spies have told me Miguel went insane and smashed the kid's skull in."

"He did," the Listener confirmed. "This Miguel… he is a pale substitute for the other Miguel O'Haras I have met. Far too dominated by his rage, grief, and hypocrisy."

"Knew that bastard was bad news," Spider-Shock said, electricity crackling from his hands. "Knew one day he'd go to far! He ain't even a real spider! As much as he wants to label us the bad guys we have all done more to help people than that bastard ever did! And now the Society is gonna give him a fucking slap on the wrist for attacking a kid. And you know why." He gestured at himself. "Cause he ain't a lily ass white Peter Parker. If Miles had been some anglo-saxon WASP the entire Society would be up in arms but because he's black he was 'asking for it'."

Grains walked over and placed a hand on Spider-Shock's shoulder. Whenever the man got upset he was the only one able to calm him down… and survive with no harm if he blew his top. "I get it… I get it…" His entire body reformed so he was facing the listener. "Is the kid…"

"He's alive," the listener said. "I plan to take over his treatment soon."

"They asked you to help?" Weaver asked, dropping his illusions.

"No."

That made Hunter-Spider smirk. "Finally… I was wondering when we'd finally do what needs to be done." He sheathed his knife. "It is time the Society paid for all they have done."

"Yes," the listener said. "Miguel had a noble goal… his research was hastily done and quite sloppy, that is clear… and he never had the right temperament to lead. The Society must be torn down but we must be careful not to burn it to ashes. There is much that can be used again, if we are smart about this. And we will be smart and clever. We will take what he started with and build something that lasts. Something that can help the world."

He paused.

"Something… Superior."

Will Drive Us Away