Final Epilogue  

(Before all of this happened)

Michael blinked his eyes open, groggy and disoriented. The space around him seemed impossibly bright, almost too vivid, as if someone had turned the saturation dial all the way up on reality itself. Posters of Marvel superheroes covered the walls, and shelves brimmed with DVDs and comic books. As his eyes swept across the room, a soft, golden light filtered through the window, casting warm rays over a perfectly serene view. Outside, it was like a paradise—a crystal-clear pool shimmered under the sunlight, and beyond it, lush gardens stretched far and wide, populated with playful animals. There was even a playground, seemingly designed for a child's wildest dreams.

But none of this eased the tension in his chest.

Michael furrowed his brow, stepping toward the window to get a better look at the idyllic scenery. Everything felt too perfect—like a dream.

He murmured to himself, "Where am I?"

The silence that followed was eerie, as though the world had paused just for him. But then, a voice broke through the quiet, soft yet unmistakably familiar.

"Hello, Michael."

Michael froze, his heart leaping into his throat. His body stiffened as that voice—that voice—echoed in his mind. The voice that had been gone for years, yet had never left his memory. Slowly, he turned around, hardly daring to believe it.

Standing across the room, framed by the golden light, was his Uncle Chris. He looked just as Michael remembered him—strong, confident, with that gentle but firm smile. His presence radiated warmth and safety, feelings Michael had yearned for ever since his uncle's passing.

"Uncle?" Michael's voice cracked, his eyes widening in disbelief. His breath hitched as emotion welled up inside him.

Chris smiled warmly, his arms open wide, as though the years of absence never existed. "Yep, it's me."

"But… is this really you? Am I in heaven? How?" Michael's voice cracked as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He felt both lost and found at the same time.

Chris chuckled softly. "Come on." He gestured for Michael to come closer.

Michael's legs moved on their own. He ran across the room, the air buzzing around him, as though everything but his uncle had faded away. He collided into Chris's open arms, wrapping his arms around him tightly. It was the kind of hug that spoke more than words could. His face buried in his uncle's chest, Michael's shoulders shook, and he let the tears flow freely. The years of hardship, of fighting alone, of missing his uncle's presence—all of it came pouring out in that single moment.

"I missed you, Uncle," Michael whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His tears dampened Chris's shirt, but he didn't care. This was real—this had to be real.

Chris patted his back, his hand warm and steady, the way it had always been. "I missed you too, kid. I've been watching over you this whole time."

The room seemed to glow around them, the warm light amplifying the sense of peace that Chris brought with him. The posters on the walls seemed to blur into the background, irrelevant compared to the weight of this reunion.

Michael sniffed and pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at his uncle's face, though he didn't let go of him. His eyes were red, and tears still streaked down his cheeks. "I tried to be like you," he admitted, voice wavering. "I tried to live up to what you always said—a hero never gives up. Even when it was hard... even when I wanted to quit."

Chris's gaze softened, and he cupped Michael's face with a fatherly hand, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "I know. I saw it all. You've faced so many hardships, Michael, and through it all, you never stopped being a hero. Sacrificing yourself for everyone, protecting them—that's what being a hero is all about. And you've done that."

Michael's breath caught in his throat. Hearing that validation from his uncle, the man who had always been his idol, filled him with a bittersweet ache. He had waited so long for this moment, to hear that he had made his uncle proud.

"I never would have made it without you, Uncle," Michael said softly. His voice trembled, and his hands still gripped tightly onto Chris's arms, as if afraid that letting go would make him disappear. "Everything I am, everything I became—it's because of you."

Chris smiled gently and shook his head, his eyes full of warmth and understanding. "No, Michael. It wasn't me who changed you. You did that on your own. It's always been inside you—the strength, the heart of a hero. I may have given you some advice along the way, but you're the one who turned into the man you are today."

As Chris spoke, Michael felt the room shift around them. The golden light seemed to grow brighter, more radiant, as if the entire world was acknowledging the weight of those words. The air felt lighter, too, as if the gravity of everything he'd been holding on to for so long was finally lifting.

Michael smiled through his tears, a mix of relief and pride washing over him. For the first time in years, he felt at peace—truly at peace. His uncle's words, the validation he'd sought for so long, had finally reached him. But more than that, he realized it had been inside him all along.

As Michael stood still, his mind whirling. He couldn't stop himself from glancing around. The surreal environment still had him on edge—was this really heaven? The serenity, the marvel-themed décor, the perfection of everything—it seemed too good to be real. And yet, a nagging question hung in the back of his mind.

He hesitated, then turned to Chris. "Are we really in heaven? But how? I mean... I disappeared after I used that power. I was supposed to cease to exist."

Chris let out a soft sigh, his eyes kind. "First thing's first—you're not in heaven, Michael. You're in a domain, a place controlled by a god who watches over the Marvel universe."

Michael's confusion deepened. "A domain? But if I'm not supposed to exist anymore..."

Before he could finish his thought, another voice cut through the air, smooth yet undeniably familiar. "It's me... I made you exist again."

Michael froze, turning toward the source of the voice. His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw who it was—an older man, It was Stan Lee. The legendary creator of Marvel stood before him, larger than life, yet somehow as approachable as the characters he had brought into the world. Michael blinked, trying to process everything—he was neither in heaven nor erased, and now, in the domain of a cosmic figure who watched over the Marvel universe, he was being told that Stan Lee himself had a hand in bringing him back.

Michael shook his head in disbelief. "Stan Lee... sir," he muttered, still trying to wrap his head around the idea that the creator of Marvel was standing before him.

Stan Lee, ever the charismatic figure, smiled warmly at Michael. "Hey, kid."

Michael, stunned, took a hesitant step forward before finally shaking Stan Lee's hand. His grip was firm, yet gentle, as though he were meeting a legend—which, in fact, he was. "The famous Stan Lee... I can't believe it. I'm honored to meet you, sir. I'm a big fan of your work!"

Stan laughed lightly and gave a nod, glancing at Chris. "I can see why he looks up to you." Stan chuckled, his voice filled with a certain fatherly pride.

Chris let out a small sigh but couldn't help smiling at Michael's enthusiasm.

Michael suddenly realized he had been rambling. He pulled his hand back and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. "Oh, pardon me, sir. I didn't mean to be rude."

Stan waved it off with a grin. "It's fine, kid. Don't worry about it. I get that reaction sometimes. But now that you're here, I bet you've got some questions."

Michael, still awestruck, nodded. "Yeah... uh... You said you brought me back into existence. I know you have the power to do that—being the god of Marvel and all—but... why? Why me?"

Stan's expression softened, his playful tone dropping to something more serious. "There's a reason for everything, Michael. But before we dive into that, your uncle here has something to explain."

Chris stepped forward, giving Michael a nod. "Right, kid. There's something you need to know about the Spiderman System—the one that's been helping you all this time."

Michael blinked in confusion, still trying to piece everything together. "Yeah, I've been wondering about that. How does the system know everything? I thought it was just some tool, but it feels like it's... alive."

As if on cue, a voice echoed in his mind. "Host."

Michael's eyes widened. "Wait... you're still in me?" he muttered, half to himself and half to the system.

Chris chuckled softly, shaking his head. "More like the system is bound to you forever, kid."

Michael frowned, his mind spinning with questions. "Bound to me forever? But why? And how did I even get this system in the first place? It's like it knew everything about Spider-Man before I did."

Chris nodded, crossing his arms as he explained. "The system wasn't something you stumbled upon by accident, Michael. It was given to you for a reason— The moment you decided to take on the responsibility of being Spider-Man again, the system activated. It's been watching you and guiding you ever since."

Michael's brows furrowed, trying to wrap his head around it. "Again...? I mean, the system told me that I was already supposed to be Spider-Man before it came into play. It said there was a forgotten timeline, one where my friends and family died. That's what the system told me happened in 1950s before things became... well, the way they are now."

The familiar voice of the system echoed in his mind, "Host."

Chris sighed, his expression softening. "It's time I tell you about your past, Michael. The part of your life you've forgotten."

Michael's throat tightened. "Past life? What do you mean? Are you saying that—"

"Yes," Chris interrupted, his tone calm but firm. "You are Jonathan Anderson, but before that... you were someone else. You were Michael Wilson. You lived a completely different life before you became who you are now."

As Chris began to explain, the air between them seemed to grow thicker, weighted by the revelation that was about to unfold. Michael felt his heart race, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and anticipation. He had always believed that his life as Spider-Man began when he became Michael Wilson, but now everything was being flipped upside down.

Michael's eyes widened. "Wait, wait. I was Jonathan Anderson before I became Michael Wilson right? So this doesn't make sense. I know I transmigrated into Michael Wilson's body... I thought I just... became him after coming from another world."

Chris shook his head. "No, kid. You've got it backward. You were Michael Wilson first. But after you reset the universe—after you fought and defeated Thanos and used the Infinity Stones—you were reborn into another universe. That's when you became Jonathan Anderson. You didn't transmigrate into Michael Wilson... you returned to who you originally were."

Michael took a step back, his mind spinning. "What? How could that be possible? You're saying I was always Michael Wilson, and Jonathan Anderson was just... another life?"

Chris nodded. "That's exactly it. After you reset the universe with the Infinity Stones, you disappeared—or rather, you were reincarnated into a new life as Jonathan Anderson. You didn't have the memories of being Michael Wilson back then. The universe needed you again, so when the time came, you returned to your original self."

Michael's thoughts raced back to his life as Jonathan Anderson—the friends, the struggles, everything he had lived through. It all felt so real, so distinct, yet now he was being told that it was just another chapter in a much larger story.

Chris continued, his voice steady. "You, Michael Wilson, were the Spider-Man who faced the ultimate battle. You lost everything—your family, your friends—but you didn't give up. You fought Thanos, you saved the universe, and when you realized that everything was broken, you used the Infinity Stones to reset the entire universe. You changed everything. And after that... well, the universe gave you another chance. It let you start over."

Images began to flood Michael's mind, vivid and overwhelming. He saw himself, as Michael Wilson, standing over Thanos' body after the final blow. He saw the devastation around him—the loss, the emptiness. And then, he saw himself grasping the Infinity Stones, using their power to turn back time, to reshape reality itself. It was a decision he made out of hope, but also out of despair.

Then, everything went black, and he awoke as Jonathan Anderson, in a completely new world. The memories of Michael Wilson were gone, buried deep within his soul, waiting to be unlocked.

Michael's knees buckled slightly as he processed this monumental revelation. "I reset the universe... I became someone else... and now I'm back." He looked up at Chris, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Why didn't I remember any of this until now?"

Stan Lee, his voice calm and reassuring. "It's me... The universe save you, but I was the one who guided you, erased your memories so that your canon event wouldn't get messed up."

Michael's breath caught as he processed what Stan Lee had just said. His knees trembled, barely able to keep him standing. "You... erased my memories?" he asked, his voice hoarse, disbelief rippling through every word. "To keep the canon event intact?"

Stan Lee, with his familiar warm smile, nodded. "That's right, kid. The universe needed to follow its course. If you had remembered everything, the timeline would have been thrown into chaos. So, when you reset the universe, I had to step in and guide you—erase those memories, let you live your life again, without the burden of the past. Your canon event—the pivotal moments that shape you—needed to happen the way they did."

"But I... I can change my canon event," Michael insisted, his mind spinning with the implications. "I did change it! I remember now... I fought to rewrite my fate."

Stan chuckled, shaking his head. "Exactly, kid. That's where you surprised me. Even with everything set in motion, you broke free of it. I was shocked when you made those changes—when you defied what was supposed to happen. It wasn't part of the plan, but it showed me just how much of a true hero you are. You didn't let fate control you."

Michael clenched his fists, trying to wrap his head around everything. He had defied the natural order of the universe and rewritten his story, and now... he was beginning to see how much bigger it all was.

"And the system... what does it have to do with all of this?" Michael murmured, the connection between his powers and everything Stan had just told him clicking into place. "You said the system is bound to me... what does that even mean?"

Stan sighed, as if he were about to reveal another layer of the puzzle. "Well, that system wasn't just something random, Michael. It was yours from the beginning, in your forgotten timeline. You had a power that you honed, that you earned through your journey. When you reset the universe, I used that very power—your power—to create the system that's been guiding you."

Michael's eyes widened. "So, the system is... me?"

"In a way, yeah," Stan said. "It's a reflection of your potential. It's the tool that helped you become the hero you were always meant to be, in both timelines."

Michael took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything he had learned. The system, his forgotten past, the universe reset—everything had been leading to this moment. He wasn't just a hero of one world or timeline; he was someone who had defied the universe itself, who had fought fate and won.

"But why?" Michael asked softly, meeting Stan's eyes. "Why go through all this trouble to make me forget, only for me to remember again?"

Stan smiled, his expression soft but filled with understanding. "Because, kid, the journey is as important as the destination. You had to live those experiences. You had to face those challenges without knowing the full picture. Only now, with everything coming together, can you see who you truly are—a hero who shapes his own destiny. And that's more powerful than any canon event."

Michael stood there, the air still, but his mind racing. He wasn't just Michael Wilson, the forgotten hero of a past timeline. He wasn't just Jonathan Anderson, the man who had lived a second life. He was both. And he was something more—something greater.

Then Michael crossed his arms, the weight of the conversation settling in his chest. "Wait.. You revive me with an agenda, right?" he stated, his voice steady but laced with curiosity. "I knew you didn't bring me back out of pity after I changed the universe again."

Stan Lee exchanged a glance with Chris, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "He's sharp." Stan remarked.

Chris chuckled, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Well, he is my nephew after all."

Clearing his throat, Stan leaned in slightly, the gravity of the moment palpable. "Ahem. When I revived you and prevented you from ceasing to exist, there was a condition."

Michael raised an eyebrow, curiosity piquing. "A condition?"

Stan nodded, his expression serious yet kind. "You need to mentor the MCU Spider-Man."

Michael's eyes widened in disbelief. "MCU? You mean that MCU movie?"

"Yep, that MCU." Stan confirmed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"But why? Should it disrupt the timeline if I interfere with Peter's growth there?" Michael questioned, crossing his arms defensively.

"Don't worry about it," Stan reassured him, waving a hand dismissively. "It won't disrupt the timeline. I made sure of it."

Michael hesitated, the concern lingering in his mind. "Why do you need me to teach Peter? Shouldn't Iron Man be enough?"

Stan shook his head slowly. "No, Iron Man isn't his teacher; he's more like a father figure to him. And there's another reason why I need you to teach him."

"Why?" Michael pressed, intrigued and anxious.

"Because someone is disrupting the sacred timeline of the MCU. It seems like someone is trying to destroy the MCU universe." Stan said, his tone grave.

Michael stood there, absorbing the weight of what Stan Lee and Chris had just asked of him. The responsibility was immense, and the stakes were even higher. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

"So, you're saying that someone is actively disrupting the MCU timeline?" Michael asked, his voice laced with concern. "And you want me to step in and mentor Peter Parker—Spider-Man—because of it?"

Stan Lee nodded, his expression serious. "That's right, Michael. Whoever's causing the disruptions is messing with the fabric of that universe. It's like ripples in a pond—each disturbance creates more chaos. And if we don't intervene, the MCU could collapse entirely. Iron Man may have been a father figure to Peter, but you... you're different. You're Spider-Man, in every sense of the word, with experience that no one else has."

Michael sighed, rubbing his temples. "But interfering with Peter's growth... isn't that dangerous? Won't that throw off his story, his journey?"

Stan smiled softly. "I've made sure it won't. The timeline will stay intact, and Peter will still grow into the hero he's destined to be. But he needs guidance, Michael—guidance only you can provide."

Chris chimed in, his voice calm but firm. "Your journey, your struggles, everything you've been through—it makes you the perfect mentor for Peter. You know what it's like to carry the weight of being Spider-Man. That's something no one else can truly teach him."

Michael's resolve wavered, the weight of his responsibilities heavy on his shoulders. "But should you go instead of me?" he asked, searching Chris's eyes for another option.

Chris shook his head. "I can't. After all, I am now an Observer—a watchful eye over all universes, together with Sir Stanley."

Stan nodded in agreement. "That's right, Michael. I need your uncle here. You're the only one we've got."

Michael frowned, glancing between his uncle and Stan Lee. "But what about my family? My universe? They need me. I can't just leave them behind for who knows how long."

Chris placed a reassuring hand on Michael's shoulder. "We understand, Michael. And we wouldn't ask this of you lightly. But the fate of an entire universe—the MCU universe—is at stake. I know it's selfish, but this mission is bigger than us. And you can still go back to your family, and for them, it'll feel like you were never gone."

Stan Lee added, his tone lighter, "We'll make it so that only a day passes in your universe while you're gone. That way, you can still fulfill your duties there. It's convenient, I know, but it's the least we can do for someone who's done so much already."

Michael's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions. He didn't want to abandon his family, but the idea that he could help preserve the MCU—a universe he had admired and even grown up watching—was something he couldn't ignore. And if Stan Lee was offering him a way to return with only a day's passage in his own world, it seemed like the best of both worlds.

Michael sighed deeply, nodding. "Fine. I'll do it. I'll go to the MCU and mentor Peter. After that... I want to return to my family."

Stan Lee smiled, the familiar twinkle of mischief and wisdom in his eyes. "That's the spirit, kid. I knew we could count on you."

Chris smiled proudly, squeezing Michael's shoulder. "Thank you, Michael. I know this isn't easy, but you're doing the right thing."

Michael took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what lay ahead. "Alright. What do I need to do?"

Stan Lee raised his hand, and with a flick of his fingers, a swirling portal began to form in the air behind him—a gateway to the MCU. "Step through that portal. It'll take you to Peter's world. From there, you'll know what to do."

Michael took a deep breath, his heart racing as he stood on the precipice of a new adventure. The portal shimmered around him, an otherworldly glow casting shadows on his face. He felt the weight of his past and the uncertainty of the future pressing against him, but he knew what he had to do.

....

(Michael Narrator)

"They say every hero wears a mask. It's a symbol of strength, resilience, and the ability to hide our true selves from the world. But what if I told you that anyone can be a hero? You don't need to be born with powers or extraordinary abilities. All you need is the courage to stand up and fight for what's right. Just wear a mask, and the world will see you as the hero you were meant to be."

"This is my story. It's about loss, finding my way back, and always fighting for what's right. I've been up against some really tough challenges, and I've had to give up a lot. But through it all, I've realized that real strength doesn't come from superpowers; it comes from what's inside us—our hearts and our will to help others"

Michael paused, glancing back at the familiar faces of Chris and Stan Lee, both nodding with encouragement. He felt a surge of determination rise within him, the essence of Spider-Man coursing through his veins.

"I am Spider-Man."

With those words echoing in his mind, he stepped through the portal, ready to embrace the challenges ahead, knowing that his journey was just beginning.

The end of Part 1