Chapter 518: Viva La Vida

Chapter 518: Chapter 518: Viva La Vida

[Third Person Pov]

Peter hovered in the Astral Plane, watching his grieving friends mourn over his seemingly lifeless body. An awkward grin slowly crept across his face as he scratched his cheek, his eyes wandering between the devastated expressions surrounding his corpse. For a moment, he couldn’t help but feel bad. Then, as though a lightbulb had suddenly switched on above his head, an idea struck him.

’This is going to be such a messed-up thing to do, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t do it.’

A quiet chuckle escaped him as he prepared to put his brilliant, absolutely terrible idea into action.

"PETEEEEER!! NOOOOO!!" Peter Parker’s Astral Form wailed dramatically as he made himself tangible in the physical world, throwing himself toward his own corpse with all the theatrical desperation of a grieving father in a soap opera. "THAT’S MY BOY! THAT’S MY SON!"

He dropped to his knees beside his body, cradling his own head in his arms.

"WHYYYYYYYY?!"

The anguished cry rang throughout the chamber, bringing every conversation and every sob to an abrupt halt. Everyone turned toward the newcomer, their grief momentarily interrupted by the sight of Peter Parker’s ghost throwing himself over Peter Parker’s corpse.

For several seconds, nobody moved. Nobody spoke. They simply stared at the spectacle unfolding before them, their minds seemingly incapable of processing what they were witnessing.

Peter, meanwhile, was fully committed to the performance.

"He was so young!" he sobbed, rocking his corpse back and forth as literal tears streamed from his spectral eyes. "HE HAD SO MUCH LEFT TO LIVE FOR!"

He clutched his dead body closer, practically curling himself around it as his wails grew louder.

"He was destined to save the world! He was supposed to make a difference! He was supposed to be the greatest Spider-Man of them all"

Peter pressing a lingering kiss to his own forehead while gently smoothing down his corpse’s hair, holding it for a few seconds and then broke out into quiet solemn singing.

"?? I used to rule the world; Seas would rise when I gave the word. Now in the morning, I sleep alone; Sweep the streets I used to own ??"

Peter continued to rock his body as he sang, "?? I used to roll the dice; Feel the fear in my enemy’s eyes; Listen as the crowd would sing; "Now the old king is dead, long live the king" ??"

"?? One minute, I held the key

Next, the walls were closed on me

And I discovered that my castles stand

Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringin’

Roman Cavalry choirs are singin’

Be my mirror, my sword and shield... ??"

He sang Viva la Vida by Coldplay with such exaggerated sorrow that it was almost impressive. Almost.

"??For some reason, I can’t explain

I know Saint Peter won’t call my name

Never an honest word

But that was when I ruled the world ??"

After another dramatic sniffle, Peter exhaled heavily and slowly lifted his head, finally acknowledging the audience of horrified faces staring back at him.

He blinked.

They continued staring.

Peter tilted his head, then cupped a hand around his ear as though listening for something.

"Hey, guys? Do you hear that?" he asked, his voice suddenly dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It’s almost like he’s still in the room with us."

Silence.

Not a single person laughed. Not one.

Peter’s grin faltered slightly.

"Wow. Tough crowd."

That was when Harry’s Astral Form emerged from his physical body.

He approached Peter with slow, heavy steps, his expression obscured by the shadow cast over his face. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, and there was something deeply unsettling about the way he moved, as though every step brought him closer to a decision he had already made.

Peter noticed him coming.

"Hahaha..." He laughed nervously, glancing between Harry and the others. "Why the long faces, everyone? You all look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Harry stopped directly in front of him.

Peter’s eyes dropped to his clenched fists.

’Oh, shit.’

He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the inevitable impact.

But the punch never came.

Instead, a pair of arms wrapped tightly around him.

Peter’s eyes snapped open.

Harry was hugging him.

For a moment, Peter could only stare in bewilderment as Harry held him close, his shoulders trembling. The tears still glistening in Harry’s eyes told Peter everything he needed to know. Beneath the anger, beneath the clenched fists and the barely restrained fury, Harry had been terrified. He had genuinely believed his best friend was dead, and the relief of discovering otherwise had finally broken through his defenses.

Peter’s grin slowly became smaller, guilt creeping into his expression.

"Oh..." he murmured, awkwardly patting Harry’s back. "Oh, wow."

He swallowed.

"Now I just feel like a total asshole. Aw, man, I’m sorry—"

Harry pulled away with a sniffle, wiping the tears from his face with the back of his hand. He sniffed again, taking a moment to collect himself before looking Peter directly in the eyes.

Peter responded with the biggest, most awkwardly exaggerated grin he could muster.

Harry stared at him.

Peter stared back.

Then Harry drew his fist all the way back.

"YOU FUCKING INCONSIDERATE ASSHOLE!"

"AAAH! AW, FUCK!"

The punch connected squarely with Peter’s face, sending him hurtling through the air. He tumbled backward, clutching his cheek as he spun helplessly through the Astral Plane.

"THAT FUCKING HURT, DAMN IT!"

Harry didn’t give him a chance to recover. He shot forward, tackled Peter to the ground, and immediately began raining punches down on him.

"YOU KNEW, DIDN’T YOU?!" Harry roared, each word punctuated by another punch. "YOU KNEW THIS WASN’T GOING TO HAPPEN! EVERYTHING IN MY GUT IS TELLING ME YOU ALREADY FORESAW THIS!"

"OW! OW! OW! I’M SORRY!"

"YOU LYING, SMUG, SELFISH MOTHERFUCKER!"

"PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" Peter shrieked, throwing his arms over his head to protect himself. He stretched one hand toward the others, desperately pleading for intervention. "GET HIM OFF ME! PLEASE! I’VE LEARNED MY LESSON!"

Nobody moved to help him.

Finally, Gwen, MJ, Felicia, Aria, and Lizzy astrally projected themselves from their physical bodies and approached the brawl. Gwen was the first to intervene, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

"Nightwing, that’s enough."

Harry paused mid-punch.

"What?" he demanded, turning toward her with every intention of arguing.

Then he saw her expression.

Whatever retort had been forming in his throat died immediately.

Gwen’s eyes were red and swollen from crying. Her face was still damp with tears, and the grief she had been experiencing only moments earlier had not disappeared simply because Peter had turned out to be alive.

Harry slowly turned back toward Peter.

Peter offered him a tentative smile.

Harry’s fist twitched.

Gwen tightened her grip on his shoulder.

Peter immediately rolled onto his back, gasping for air despite the fact that his Astral Form didn’t technically need to breathe.

"Ahhh..." He dragged in a dramatic breath, clutching his chest. "Thank goodness! The cavalry has arrived to save the day!"

MJ and Felicia exchanged a look.

"You’ll kill him at this rate," MJ remarked, grabbing Harry by one arm.

"Yeah, that’s our job," Felicia snarled.

Before Peter could question what she meant, both women hauled Harry away from him and promptly began stomping and kicking him themselves.

"WAHHHHHHHH!"

Peter curled into a ball as the two women joined Harry’s assault, shielding his head with his arms while their feet came down around him.

"I’m sorry! I’M SORRY! I’VE LEARNED MY LESSON!" he shrieked. "I’LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN! JUST PLEASE STOP!"

"NO!" Gwen hissed, joining the fray. "YOU! SON! OF! A! BITCH!"

Each word was accompanied by a particularly vicious stomp.

Peter whimpered and curled tighter into himself.

"YOU’RE REALLY GOING TO KILL ME!"

"GOOD!" Aria shouted, tears still clinging to her lashes. "THAT WAY, OUR TEARS WON’T HAVE BEEN FOR NOTHING!"

For a few more seconds, the chamber echoed with Peter’s increasingly desperate cries and the furious shouts of the people who had spent the last several minutes believing they had lost him forever.

Eventually, Reed Richards, who had been watching the entire spectacle with an expression of utter bewilderment, raised a finger to his nose as he sniffled.

"Wait a minute," he said. "I don’t understand. Isn’t that his ghost? Why are you all acting as though he’s still alive?"

Gwen stopped mid-stomp and turned toward him.

"Because that’s not a ghost, Reed. It’s his Astral Form!"

Reed blinked.

Gwen gestured sharply toward Peter, who was still curled on the floor, nursing his bruised face.

"His Astral Form and physical body are interconnected. Under normal circumstances, if his physical body were truly dead, his Astral Form would be dead as well! He wouldn’t be standing here, cracking jokes and making a complete ass of himself!"

The others exchanged uncertain glances.

Susan looked toward Peter’s physical body, which remained sprawled on the ground, shriveled and seemingly lifeless. Her expression softened with concern, but the confusion in her eyes only deepened.

"I’m sorry, Gwen, but that body doesn’t look remotely alive. He’s shriveled, his heart isn’t beating, and he’s not breathing. If what you’re saying is true, how is he still here?"

Gwen’s gaze immediately snapped back toward Peter.

"Answer her question!"

Peter flinched.

"Y-Yes, ma’am."

He slowly pushed himself upright, wincing as he rubbed his cheek. His usual confidence had diminished considerably beneath the collective glares of everyone present.

"Okay, so... I had a vision that this was going to happen."

Harry’s head snapped toward him.

"I FUCKING KNEW IT! FUCK YOU!"

He charged forward and kicked Peter squarely in the gut.

"UGHHH! SWEET MOTHER OF PEARL!"

Peter doubled over, clutching his stomach as he rolled across the floor.

"WHY ARE YOU ALL SO VIOLENT?!"

"BECAUSE YOU’RE AN IDIOT!" Harry shouted.

"Babe!" Lizzy exclaimed, grabbing Harry around the waist before he could launch another attack. She pulled him back with considerable effort, giving him a firm look. "Let him finish!"

Harry continued glaring daggers at Peter but reluctantly allowed Lizzy to hold him in place.

Peter took a moment to recover, rubbing his stomach before finally getting back to the explanation.

"Right. So, I had a vision of this happening, and I put a bunch of countermeasures in place to make sure it wouldn’t end with me getting killed."

He held up a finger.

"Unfortunately, most of those countermeasures went straight to hell the moment Rama-Tut showed up with his time-traveling bullshit."

"Then why didn’t you tell us?" Gwen demanded.

"Because I was hoping I’d never have to explain any of this!"

"THAT IS NOT AN ANSWER!"

"Okay, okay! Jeez!"

Peter raised both hands defensively.

"One of my countermeasures was getting stronger. That’s why you caught me studying magic and revisiting my notes inside the VR world." He glanced toward Felicia, who regarded him with a mixture of disbelief and renewed irritation. "I figured if I could increase my power enough, I’d have a better chance of surviving whatever was coming."

Felicia folded her arms.

"And you couldn’t have told us that you were preparing for a possible death scenario?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds kind of bad."

"BECAUSE IT IS BAD!"

"Moving on!" Peter announced hastily, before anyone could resume the beating.

"Thor was another countermeasure. I actually hadn’t planned on bringing him along initially, but I figured that introducing another figure into the situation might change the future. If I altered enough variables, maybe the vision wouldn’t come to pass."

Reed’s eyebrows rose.

"You deliberately brought Thor into the confrontation because you believed his presence might alter a future you had already witnessed?"

Peter pointed at him.

"Exactly! See? Reed gets it!"

"I did not say I agreed with your decision."

"Oh."

Peter lowered his hand.

"Well, anyway, there was also an orbital strike pinpointed to our location from outer space, just in case."

Everyone stared at him.

Gwen’s mouth fell open.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Look, it was a precaution!"

"AN ORBITAL STRIKE IS NOT A PRECAUTION!"

"Depends on how you define precaution!"

"Peter," MJ warned, her voice dangerously quiet.

He immediately straightened up.

"Right. Sorry. Getting to the point."

He cleared his throat, looking considerably less smug than before.

"As a final contingency, in case everything else failed, I went to the Ancient One. With her help, I severed my connection to my physical body and anchored my Astral Form somewhere else."

He gestured toward his lifeless-looking corpse.

"So, if my physical body died, my Astral Form would survive independently."

Susan stared at him in absolute horror.

"Wait. So you’ve essentially been a ghost piloting your own body this entire time?"

Peter tilted his head.

"Yeah, pretty much."

He flashed her a smug grin.

"Cool, right?"

The response was immediate.

"YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT!"

The group descended upon him again, stomping and kicking him until he was forced to curl up on the ground.

"OW! OW! OW! I WAS JUST ANSWERING THE QUESTION!"

"YOU’RE AN INSANE PERSON!" Gwen shouted.

Peter shielded his head.

"OKAY! POINT TAKEN!"

Amid the chaos, Hulk slowly approached, his enormous face wearing an expression of quiet uncertainty. Unlike the others, he wasn’t angry. He seemed almost afraid to ask the question, as though the answer might somehow make everything worse.

"So..." Hulk began softly. "Hulk’s friend isn’t really dead?"

Peter immediately stopped squirming long enough to look up at him.

His expression softened.

"Nah, big guy. I’m still here." He offered Hulk an apologetic wink. "Sorry for giving you a scare."

Hulk’s shoulders relaxed, and a small measure of the tension seemed to leave his enormous frame.

Peter smiled.

"Although, technically, if my web-shooters get destroyed, I really will be a goner. But I should be fine for the most part."

There was a pause.

A long, terrible pause.

Then every woman in the group turned toward him at once.

"YOU ANCHORED YOUR ASTRAL BODY TO YOUR WEBSHOOTERS?!"

Peter’s smile vanished.

"Oh, come on. When you say it like that—"

The beating resumed with renewed enthusiasm.

"OW! OW! OW! OKAY! I GET IT!"

Harry finally broke free of Lizzy’s grip and joined in, while Gwen, MJ, Felicia, Aria, and the others continued their assault. Peter’s protests quickly dissolved into a continuous stream of shrieks, apologies, and increasingly desperate promises to reconsider every life choice that had led him to this moment.

"I’m sorry! I’VE LEARNED MY LESSON! I’LL NEVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THIS AGAIN!"

"LIAR!" Harry shouted.

"YOU DON’T EVEN BELIEVE THAT YOURSELF!" Gwen added.

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO APOLOGIZE BEFORE YOU ALL FORGIVE ME?!"

"NOT NEARLY ENOUGH!" they shouted in unison.

Peter curled into the tightest ball he could manage as another flurry of kicks rained down upon him.

And somewhere beneath the pain, the bruised ego, and the mounting suspicion that his friends were genuinely going to beat his Astral Form into oblivion, Peter had a single, sobering realization.

’Maybe I should’ve just pretended to stay dead for another five minutes.’

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