A severe panic attack was setting in as I crouched down in the alleyway. Who's to say anything I tell Tony will be believed? I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion. The sleek, black-and-purple super suit felt more like costume party attire than proper hero garb. "Oh, hi Mr. Stark, my name is Andy, and I've been reading your whole life in a comic. I know all the identities of the Avengers and the X-Men, heck, even the villains," I muttered to myself. Imagining Stark's reaction made me cringe. He'd probably blast me into oblivion, thinking I was some lackey of Thanos or a spy for a rival. "Andy, get it together, mate," I chided myself, attempting to steady my shaking hands. "No use going half-cocked into a panic attack. Surely, he'll listen to me, right? I mean, one of his allies is a Norse god, for crying out loud..." The words felt hollow, and my anxiety only deepened. "Oh God, listen to me! I've gone completely mad!" I slumped against the cold brick wall, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "Next time, I'll read... D... D... D..." My mind went blank. Why couldn't I say it? The name of the other comic franchise similar to Marvel was stuck in my throat like a forgotten word on the tip of my tongue.
The absurdity of the situation hit me hard. Here I was, in a hyper-realistic digital New York City, dressed as a superhero, and having a full-blown existential crisis in an alleyway. The sarcasm bubbled up despite my fear. "Fantastic. Just fantastic. I've been sucked into my phone, given superpowers, and now I can't even say the name of the other major comic book universe. Perfect. Absolutely perfect." I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts whirling in my mind. The alleyway's dim light cast eerie shadows on the graffiti-covered walls. My reflection in a nearby puddle showed a masked figure with rippling muscles and a look of sheer panic. "Great, Andy. You look like a comic book hero, but you're freaking out like a cat going to the vet."
Unable to stay still, I began pacing back and forth in the narrow alley. Each step felt heavy, and the suit clung to my skin, making my movements awkward and uncomfortable. "God! I hate this bloody suit. I'm getting a damn draft here," I muttered, pulling at the fabric. "This is insane," I continued, running my fingers through my hair again. "What am I supposed to do? Just waltz up to Stark Tower and hope he believes me?" As I paced, my mind raced with worst-case scenarios. What if Tony Stark didn't believe me? What if he thought I was a threat? The thought of facing Iron Man's wrath sent shivers down my spine. "Maybe I should just find a quiet corner and hide," I mused aloud, the absurdity of the situation not lost on me. Mid-panic, I noticed a stray cat rummaging through a nearby trashcan. The sight was oddly calming, a small slice of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic world. The cat, with its matted fur and wary eyes, seemed unfazed by my presence. It continued its scavenging, pawing at the trash in search of food. "Lucky you," I said to the cat, my voice tinged with envy. "At least you know what you're doing."
The cat paused, looking up at me with a mixture of curiosity and indifference before returning to its task. I couldn't help but smile at the simple scene. It reminded me that, despite the madness of my current situation, there were still moments of normalcy to be found. "Alright," I told myself, taking a deep breath. "You need to get up, find Stark, and figure this mess out. No more hiding in alleyways. You've faced worse... well, not really, but you get the point." With a mix of determination and trepidation, I straightened up, my resolve hardening. The digital city's hyper-realism pressed in on me, but I knew I had to keep moving. The fate of my existence—and possibly my sanity—depended on it. As I stepped out of the alley, the city's vibrant chaos engulfed me once more. The towering skyscrapers, the bustling streets, and the lifelike details filled my senses. Somewhere out there was Tony Stark, and he had to have answers. "Here goes nothing," I muttered, blending into the crowd. "Let's hope Mr. Stark is in a good mood today."
"Hey buddy, are you okay?" a voice suddenly called out to me. I turned around, exasperated. "What now? Look, I told you people I'm all right—" I froze mid-sentence, my eyes widening in shock. Standing behind me was none other than the webslinger himself, Spider-Man. Up close, he looked every bit as impressive as the comics had portrayed him. His suit was a perfect mix of practicality and style, and the way he carried himself exuded confidence and agility. "Nice suit, bro," Spider-Man said with a casual nod, his voice carrying a tone of curiosity. "You gave everyone a scare back there. Are you some kind of new hero? The people back there said a car hit you, but you didn't get a scratch on you." For a moment, I couldn't find my voice. Spider-Man was actually talking to me. The realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe he could help me. "Peter—" Oh shit! Well, done, Andy. Oh Bravo! Now he was looking at me with a shocked expression, his masked eyes widening in surprise.
"How do you know my name?" Spider-Man's voice was laced with surprise and suspicion, and he took a cautious step back. "Who are you?" I quickly raised my hands in a placating gesture, trying to calm the situation. "Now before you start throwing webs, the reason I know you is... well, it's okay, but please don't think of me as a threat... I... oh god... where do I begin...?" I stammered, my mind racing to find the right words. The silence stretched uncomfortably between us, the sounds of the bustling city fading into the background as Spider-Man's gaze bore into me, his stance tense and ready for action. Up close, I could see the intricate details of his suit, the fine mesh that allowed for both flexibility and protection. It was surreal to be standing in front of a living, breathing superhero. "Look, I don't really know what's going on. One minute I'm just a regular guy, the next I'm here, in this... place, with all these powers," I continued, my voice trembling slightly. The enormity of the situation was starting to overwhelm me, but I knew I had to explain myself. Spider-Man's stance softened slightly, though his suspicion was still evident. "Okay, let's start with the basics. Who are you, and how did you end up here?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying edge to it, a readiness to spring into action if needed.
Taking a deep breath, I began to explain. "My name is Andy. I was just going about my day when I downloaded this Marvel Champions app. Next thing I know, my phone goes crazy, and these shadowy arms pull me into the screen. Now I'm stuck here, and I don't know how to get out." My voice wavered as I recounted the bizarre series of events, hoping he would believe me. I couldn't help but notice the way he shifted his weight, always prepared for the unexpected. Spider-Man crossed his arms, skepticism clear in his posture. "You expect me to believe that story? Shadowy arms pulled you into your phone, and now you're here with superpowers? Come on, man. This sounds like something out of a comic book." I felt a wave of frustration and desperation wash over me. "I know it sounds insane, but it's the truth. I don't know how else to explain it. I'm not a threat, I promise. I just want to find a way out of here," I pleaded, my eyes searching his masked face for any sign of understanding. The expressionless eyes of his mask made it hard to read his emotions, but the way he tilted his head slightly indicated he was at least considering my words. He continued to eye me warily. "If you're really telling the truth, why didn't you just go to the Avengers or SHIELD?"
"Go to the Avengers or SHIELD, mate? I don't know where that is! If you haven't noticed my accent, I don't sound like an American. Surely you can tell I'm not from here?" I retorted, my frustration leaking into my voice. The tension between us seemed to grow thicker. His skepticism was understandable, but I wished he could see the sincerity in my eyes. Spider-Man seemed taken aback by my outburst, the tension between us lingering. "Okay, point taken. But I'm still not entirely convinced. You said you were pulled into your phone by shadowy arms. That sounds... well, it sounds like something out of a bad sci-fi movie." Spider-Man sighed, still clearly unsure. "Alright, Andy. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt for now. But I'm keeping an eye on you. One wrong move, and we're going to have a problem."
"Seriously! Look, have I hurt anyone here? That whole thing with the car was an accident. I was in a right state and didn't know where I was. Yes, I'll admit I should have looked both ways and found a zebra crossing!" I exclaimed, exasperated by the situation. His casual demeanor clashed with the intensity of his gaze, making me feel like I was under a microscope. Spider-Man raised an eyebrow beneath his mask. "Zebra crossing, huh? Definitely not an American phrase." Of course, I should remember where I am right now. "Oh, crosswalk! We call it a zebra crossing in Australia," I clarified quickly. Spider-Man nodded slowly. "Alright, Andy. Let's get you somewhere safe and figure this out. Just know that I'll be watching you closely."
"So, Spider-Man, how do you expect me to go wherever I need to go? I am not even sure I can fly. Like S... S... Su..." I trailed off, realizing the futility of mentioning a certain caped superhero from a different comic universe. I could picture the character perfectly in my mind—red cape, blue suit, big "S" on the chest—but for some strange reason, the words wouldn't come out. "Oh yeah, I forgot I can't do that." It was like some kind of mental block was preventing me from mentioning characters outside of Marvel. The thought was both confusing and a bit frustrating, especially when trying to explain my situation to someone like Spider-Man. Spider-Man looked at me with a raised eyebrow, clearly puzzled. "Fly? You're seriously thinking about trying that right now?"
"Although, for some reason, as of now I have superhuman strength. Perhaps maybe I could try... maybe I have the power of flight," I said, half-joking, half-wondering. The idea sounded ludicrous, but in a world where shadowy arms pulled me through a phone, anything seemed possible. "Well, no time like the present." Before Spider-Man could respond, I clenched my fists, took a deep breath, and focused all my energy on lifting off the ground. To my utter shock and horror, my feet left the pavement. "Oh my God, I'm flying!" I exclaimed, barely hovering a few inches above the ground. The exhilaration was quickly replaced by sheer terror as I struggled to maintain control. "Holy crap, this is insane!"
Spider-Man's eyes widened as he watched me hover awkwardly, flailing and screaming. "Whoa, take it easy! Try to control it!" he called out, his voice a mix of awe and concern. "Yeah, easy for you to say!" I shouted back, my heart pounding in my chest. "This suit is not helping either!" I glanced down at the ridiculously tight and uncomfortable suit I was wearing, the fabric bunching up and restricting my movements even more. "Whoever designed this didn't think about functionality!" I hovered just a few inches above the ground, the fear of losing control mingling with the thrill of actually defying gravity. The sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying, a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I could feel the cool evening air brushing against my face, a mix of freedom and fear engulfing me. "How do I stop this thing?!" I yelled, my voice echoing in the alley. The realization that I was actually flying, even if just a few inches off the ground, was both exhilarating and terrifying. Spider-Man's eyes narrowed as he tried to guide me. "Try to focus on coming down slowly. Imagine you're gently lowering yourself. Breathe and stay calm."
"Easier said than done!" I muttered through gritted teeth, attempting to follow his advice. I focused on lowering myself, my breath shaky and uneven. To my amazement, I gradually descended, my feet finally touching the ground. "Well, that was... something," I said, my legs trembling from the effort. The feeling of the ground beneath my feet was both a relief and a reminder of the insanity of the situation. "And this suit is definitely not made for flying."
"Maybe I need to practice flying first, because I know you don't like taking a stroll down whatever street this is. What street is it, Peter... I mean, Spider-Man?" I added, trying to lighten the mood a bit despite my frazzled nerves. Spider-Man glanced around, seemingly assessing the location. "This is Elm Street. But yeah, strolling isn't really my style. Swinging around the city is much more fun."
"Okay, I think I got the hang of it," I said, feeling a surprising amount of confidence as I floated a few feet off the ground. The sensation of defying gravity was starting to feel a bit more natural, and I couldn't help but marvel at how quickly I was adapting to this newfound ability. Each second that passed added to the surreal nature of the experience. The gentle upward pull was like being on a slow-moving elevator, but without the restrictive walls closing in around me. The ground felt distant yet tantalizingly close, as if I were treading on the boundary between dreams and reality. The sensation was exhilarating, my senses heightened by the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. My legs dangled helplessly beneath me, and I was acutely aware of every gust of wind that brushed against my face.
"Flying is easy. Just watch out for jets!" Spider-Man called up to me, his voice tinged with a mix of amusement and caution. His words echoed in the narrow alley, adding a surreal layer to the already bizarre situation. Here I was, a regular guy from Australia, trying to navigate my way through a world of superheroes and superpowers. The irony wasn't lost on me. I was struggling to maintain my composure while Spider-Man, a seasoned hero, offered advice that seemed almost nonchalant. The contrast between his casual demeanor and my frantic efforts to stay afloat was almost comical. "Don't remind me," I muttered under my breath, trying to maintain my focus. The last thing I needed was the mental image of an oncoming jet while I was trying to figure out how to fly. I wanted to shout back at Spider-Man, but I was starting to fly up higher and needed all my concentration. "Watch out for jets, of all the things to say," I thought to myself. "Why doesn't he say, 'Hey Andy, your fly is down,' but thankfully this suit doesn't have one." The thought crossed my mind with a touch of sarcastic humor, a fleeting moment of levity in an otherwise nerve-wracking situation. The suit, tight and restrictive, felt like it was holding me back rather than aiding my newfound ability.
As I ascended, the rush of air against my face and the exhilarating sense of freedom nearly overwhelmed me. The feeling of weightlessness was both thrilling and terrifying, a delicate balance between ecstasy and fear. My heart raced as I looked down, the ground seeming much farther away than it actually was. The sensation of hovering in mid-air was both thrilling and terrifying. Each movement felt precarious, like walking a tightrope suspended high above the ground. The sense of vulnerability was palpable, but so was the intoxicating feeling of liberation. I might be flying, but I still had a lot to learn about controlling this newfound ability. I concentrated on the sensation of the air swirling around me, the slight resistance as I moved my limbs, trying to balance myself. The suit clung to my skin, every shift and twitch magnified by the fabric. I couldn't help but think that whoever designed this suit had clearly never tested it for aerodynamic efficiency. My movements were awkward and jerky, the tight fabric exacerbating my lack of grace. As I climbed higher, the cityscape started to look like a patchwork quilt below me. The noise of the bustling metropolis faded into the background, replaced by the whoosh of the wind. I realized I could see the tops of buildings I had only seen from the ground before. Each second in the air was a mixture of fear and exhilaration.