Side Chapter: Future

Little Marsel Rose Wilson, age five, sat cross-legged on the floor, her big, curious eyes sparkling with excitement. She was completely engrossed in the stories being told by Peter Parker, who looked to be in his early twenties, and Miles Morales, a spirited fifteen-year-old. Both were Spider-Men in their own right, and today they were sharing tales about her father, Michael Wilson—the legendary Spider-Man.

Marsel, barely able to contain her enthusiasm, piped up, "Cool! What's next, brother Peter?"

Peter chuckled at her eagerness, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Hold your horses, Marsel. We're almost finished."

Marsel giggled, her anticipation only growing. "Heheh, I can't wait to hear more!"

Miles, watching the scene unfold with a warm smile, felt a bittersweet twinge in his heart. He glanced at Peter, noticing a flicker of emotion in his friend's eyes. "Pete." Miles said softly, his voice carrying a hint of the question that had been on his mind for a while.

Peter turned to look at him, sensing the weight behind the simple word. "What is it, Miles?"

Taking a deep breath, Miles asked the question that had lingered in his thoughts. "How did he disappear?"

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, the room grew quiet. Peter's smile faltered, and a shadow passed over his face. He looked away, his gaze distant as memories flooded back—memories of a time both cherished and painful.

"That's a good question." Peter finally said, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and sadness. He stared off into the distance, as if he could see those past events playing out before him. "I told you we're almost finished."

He turned back to Miles and Marsel, his smile returning, though it was now touched with melancholy. "Let me tell you everything about me and my mentor, Michael Wilson. About what happened back then."

."Care if I join?"

Peter turned toward the familiar voice, and his eyes widened with surprise and delight. Standing in the doorway was Mark Taylor, also known as Nightwing, Michael Wilson's best friend and loyal companion.

"Mark!" Peter exclaimed, a broad smile spreading across his face. Miles's eyes lit up as well, and little Marsel practically bounced in place, her excitement reaching new heights.

"Uncle Mark!" Marsel squealed, rushing over to him with open arms. Mark scooped her up, his usually stoic face softening into a warm smile as he hugged her tightly.

"Hey there, kiddo." Mark said, ruffling her hair affectionately before setting her down gently. He looked around the room, taking in the scene. It was filled with warmth, but there was also an undercurrent of something unspoken, something that had lingered since Michael's disappearance.

Peter walked over and clapped a hand on Mark's shoulder. "It's great to see you, man. We were just talking about Michael."

Mark nodded, his expression becoming more somber. "I figured. I could hear you guys from outside." He glanced at Marsel, his eyes softening again. "I thought I'd drop by and see how things are going."

Mark had been a constant presence in the Wilson household ever since Michael had disappeared. Despite the passage of time and the growing doubts among others, Mark had never once believed that Michael was gone for good. Every day, he stopped by the house, checking in, keeping the hope alive that one day his best friend would walk through the door again.

Marsel, sensing the shift in the mood, tugged on Mark's hand. "Uncle Mark, do you have any stories about Daddy?!"

Mark's face lit up, and he knelt down to her level, his heart swelling with affection for the little girl. "Oh, I've got plenty of stories about your dad, Marsel. But let Peter tell you first all about your dad."

Marsel's eyes widened with excitement. "Okay!!"

Peter knelt down in front of Marsel, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Your dad was one of the bravest people I've ever known. He faced things that most people couldn't even imagine. But what happened to him..."

After that Peter's voice was steady, but there was a deep emotion behind his words. As he began to recount the story, the room seemed to grow smaller, the outside world fading away as the tale of bravery, sacrifice, and loss unfolded.