Chapter 15: There's a Monster Living Inside You, Peter

Time rewinds a few minutes.

Peter pushes the wheelchair-bound woman down the corridor towards the hospital ward.

"May I know your name?" She asks.

"Peter Parker," he responds.

Peter glances down at the elderly woman in the wheelchair and remarks, "I thought you were a fortune teller, able to predict my name."

"Well, of course I can, but are you sure that's your name?" The old woman smiles faintly, lifting her head to look at him.

Peter hesitates for a moment, then replies, maintaining his expression, "That's my name."

"Hmm, names don't mean much, perhaps I shouldn't dwell on it," the woman says, quickly changing the subject. She rests her hand on the wheelchair's armrest.

"Mr. Peter, do you think I'm a fortune teller?" she asks.

"Isn't that what you are?" Peter responds, his tone subdued. "Tarot cards, palm reading, I even know people who predict the future by reading tea leaves. For example, if there are tea leaves standing in a cup, they can predict that a visitor will come."

"You're quite interesting, Mr. Peter," the woman says with a smile.

As they reach a brightly lit section of the corridor, she puts on a pair of sunglasses.

"Sorry, my eyes aren't very comfortable, especially in bright light," she explains, proactively offering an explanation for wearing sunglasses.

"You can call me Mrs. Weber, or you can call me Cassandra, it makes me sound younger," she adds, her words flowing more freely now that she's wearing sunglasses.

"Mr. Peter, I understand the methods you mentioned about fortune-telling, fancy cards, secrets in palm lines, and so on. I think those are all gimmicks, actually."

After a brief pause, she continues, "The ways of peering into fate vary greatly. Some people believe they have specific ways of operating, specific rules, so they impose special requirements on those who have the ability to peer into the mysteries of fate, thinking that everyone will follow the same constraints as they do."

Listening to Mrs. Weber's words, Peter nods and asks, "That makes sense. So, Mrs. Weber, what method do you use to peer into fate?"

Mrs. Weber gestures for Peter to stop pushing the wheelchair and beckons him to come closer.

"Do you want to try?" she asks Peter.

"Of course," Peter nods.

Although he was an atheist in his previous life, he held a skeptical attitude towards the supernatural.

But after experiencing the crossover, his beliefs underwent a change.

Moreover, the Marvel world he crossed into is full of magic and incredible powers.

Now, he wants to see how this mysterious Mrs. Weber will predict his fate.

"What do I need to do, Mrs. Weber?"

"Just hand me your hand," Mrs. Weber gestures for Peter to give her his hand.

Peter hesitates for a moment, then extends his left hand to her.

He can't see Mrs. Weber's expression under the sunglasses, but he notices her face becomes more serious the moment she touches his left hand.

"Strange," she says with a slightly hoarse voice. "Strange, I can't see the end of your life, nor can I see death. It's as if you're detached from the flow of fate and time, unconstrained by anything."

Then her expression becomes puzzled, and as she grips Peter's hand, her grip tightens and her expression becomes somewhat sinister, veins popping on her hand.

Peter maintains a half-crouched position in front of Mrs. Weber, his own face reflected in her sunglasses.

The pitch-black lenses seem like a vortex, pulling his consciousness in.

Staring at his reflection in the sunglasses, Peter feels a moment of dizziness.

In a fleeting moment of trance, the space before him changes.

The bustling hospital corridor disappears, replaced by an endless expanse.

Before him is a dim sky, with burning ruins and debris.

The city has turned into ruins, with smoke obscuring the entire space.

The most famous building in New York City, the Statue of Liberty, has collapsed, leaving only its pedestal burning.

Everywhere he looks, there is only devastation and silence.

"Boom!"

The ground seems to explode as if hit by a rocket, and the sonic boom from the airwaves stimulates his eardrums.

A higher ground is splattered with countless dust, causing a slight vibration.

When the dust settles, a familiar figure appears in his line of sight.

It seems to be a more mature version of himself?

No, perhaps it would be more appropriate to describe it as Peter Parker after maturation.

Dressed in a black uniform with white stripes on the chest, exuding a solemn atmosphere.

He bends down to pick up a familiar glove from the ruins.

It seems to be the Infinity Gauntlet.

Covered in dust and dirt, he picks up the Infinity Gauntlet from the rubble.

Gazing at the Infinity Gauntlet, he slowly puts it on his right hand.

The moment he puts on the Infinity Gauntlet, countless roars resound around him.

Countless aliens pour out from the ruins of the city.

Aliens of various forms and shapes, emitting eerie vibes, converge towards him from all directions.

From afar, it looks like countless streams of black flooding towards him.

A terrifying and chilling aura shrouds the entire city like a dark cloud.

In the next moment.

The scene quickly disappears before Peter's eyes, receding like a tide.

The city and the army of aliens, now in ruins, disappear, and what reappears in his sight is the hospital corridor.

The clamor of voices re-enters his ears.

Peter withdraws from the illusion of the city ruins.

Mrs. Weber, who was holding his hand, suddenly lets go with a loud "snap" and leans back against the backrest of the wheelchair, breathing heavily.

She looks at Peter as if seeing him for the first time, shocked.

"That was... that was..."

Mrs. Weber tries to speak but soon starts coughing violently.

"Cough, cough, cough... How... how is it possible, you..."

She takes off her sunglasses, her cloudy eyes full of disbelief and shock.

"It seems my future isn't very good. Mrs. Weber, what did you see?" Peter stands before her, somewhat surprised by what he saw, but quickly suppressing his emotions to appear unaffected.

"You... you have a monster living inside you, Peter," Mrs. Weber's expression changes from calm to shocked, placing a hand over her chest as she speaks.

"I saw the remnants of the apocalypse, heard the footsteps of death approaching. You... you are the hand of death!"