Nueva York, Earth-928—the home of Miguel O'Hara's universe and the headquarters of the Spider Society.
Miles Morales rushed through the busy corridors of the Spider Society's base, weaving past various versions of Spider-People from different universes. His heart was pounding. He'd been hearing whispers—something about Michael Wilson, his another mentor who teach him many things.
"Gwen!" Miles called as he spotted her speaking to another Peter Parker from a distant universe.
Gwen Stacy, her white and pink Spider-Suit standing out, turned towards him with a warm smile. "Hey, Miles."
The other Peter, who bore the familiar red-and-blue colors of Spider-Man but with an older, grizzled look, gave Miles a nod. "Miles." he greeted, his voice carrying the weight of many battles fought in his world.
Miles gave him an awkward wave. "Uh, Peter from another universe..." The older Peter just smiled knowingly and walked off, leaving Miles and Gwen to talk alone.
Once the older Spider-Man was out of earshot, Miles stepped closer to Gwen, curiosity burning in his eyes. "So, what's the agenda here today?"
Gwen sighed, her expression softening with concern. "Well, as usual... we're still trying to find Michael. But there's been no sign of him in any Spider-Universe. We haven't detected any trace."
Miles frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "No trace? What do you mean? He's gotta be out there somewhere, right?"
Gwen hesitated for a moment, as if unsure how to phrase it. "The thing is, Miles, Michael doesn't have..."
"He doesn't have what?" Miles pressed, his voice tense with worry.
Gwen took a breath, locking eyes with him, as if trying to convey the gravity of her next words. "He doesn't have any alternate selves, like us. You know, the variants we see across the multiverse—other versions of us, living out different lives."
Miles blinked in disbelief. "What? So you mean there's no other version of Michael? Like... he's the only one?"
Gwen nodded solemnly. "That's right. There's no variant of Michael Wilson across any universe. He's... unique."
The revelation hit Miles like a freight train. He had never considered the idea of a Spider-Man without a multiversal counterpart. They all had variants—different versions of Peter Parkers, Mileses, Gwens, and so on, across countless timelines. But Michael... Michael stood alone.
"Now I understand..." Miles murmured, the pieces finally clicking into place. "He could change every universe, every timeline, every canon event because he's the only Michael Wilson. The one, original Spider-Man."
Gwen nodded, her voice soft as she echoed his thoughts. "Exactly. And that's why he's different from the rest of us. Michael could bend the rules, rewrite reality itself. No one else could do what he did because... well, no one else is him."
Miles stood quietly for a moment, reflecting on everything Michael Wilson had done—not just for him, but for everyone. Michael wasn't just another Spider-Man. He was a mentor, a guiding light who had shown Miles something no one else could. Miles' first mentor had been Peter B. Parker, but it was Michael Wilson who had truly driven home the lesson that stuck with him the most: "Even if we can't change the canon, we still can't give up."
Those words had echoed in Miles' mind more times than he could count. They gave him hope when everything seemed lost. In Miles' case, the canon event he was supposed to face—the one that every Spider-Person had faced—was the death of his father. It was supposed to be inevitable, a tragic moment that would shape him as Spider-Man, just as Uncle Ben's death had shaped Peter Parker. But Michael had rewritten the rules. Michael Wilson, the original Spider-Man, defied the impossible and saved Miles' father from his destined fate.
Because of him, Miles' father was still alive.
Miles clenched his fists, feeling a surge of gratitude and respect wash over him. Michael had taught him that no matter how fixed a fate seemed, it was still worth fighting against. Michael didn't just save the Spider-Verse from a massive threat—he changed the very essence of what it meant to be Spider-Man for Miles and countless others.
Everyone in the Spider Society knew the price Michael had paid for that act. The last time they saw him, Michael had radiated blinding light, rewriting the very fabric of the multiverse to save it. He'd sacrificed everything.
It was Miguel O'Hara who had told them what really happened. After that blinding light, Michael had disappeared, not into death—but into something even more mysterious. No one could find him. His presence vanished from every timeline, every universe, as though he had never existed. But they knew better. Michael Wilson's legacy was in every Spider-Person who walked those halls, every universe that remained intact because of his sacrifice.
Miguel had explained it all, his usually stoic demeanor faltering slightly. "Michael... he didn't die. Not exactly. But he's gone. He's somewhere beyond the Spider-Verse now, beyond our reach."
Miles had taken that news hard. It was one thing to lose a mentor to death, but another thing entirely to know that Michael might still be out there somewhere, in a place no one could reach. Yet, even in his absence, Michael's influence lived on. Miles knew he couldn't waste the gift Michael had given him—his father's life. And so, even though it hurt, Miles pressed on, honoring Michael's memory by carrying forward his lessons, his resolve, his will.
Gwen looked at him, noticing the weight of the moment on his shoulders. "Miles, you okay?" she asked softly.
Miles nodded, his expression firm. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm just... thinking about everything Michael taught me. If it weren't for him, my dad wouldn't be here. I owe him everything."
Gwen smiled gently. "We all owe him. Every Spider-Person does."
They both stood there, in the heart of the Spider Society, united by the same sense of loss and gratitude. Michael Wilson, the one Spider-Man who could rewrite the multiverse, had given them more than they could ever repay. He had shown them that even in a world governed by fate, they had the power to fight for the future they believed in. And now, as they searched for him, the reality of his uniqueness became clearer.
...
Hobie Brown, leaning against a wall with his guitar slung over his back, glanced at Pavitr. His rebellious British accent cut through the air as he said, "How you holdin' up, mate?" though there was a weight to his words, a tone of understanding behind the casual greeting.
Pavitr sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's strange. I'm happy that my universe is safe, but I can't shake this sadness."
Hobie nodded knowingly. "Yeah, Miguel told us what went down. It's hard to feel all chuffed when you know what it cost."
Pavitr looked up at him, his usual energy dampened by the weight of what had happened. "My universe was being torn apart by that quantum hole. I thought everything—everyone—was going to be erased. Then, Michael... Sir Michael... flew toward it. There was that blinding light, and when it was gone, so was the hole."
Hobie glanced at him, eyes serious. "Yeah, mate, I was there. Heard about it from Miguel myself. That bloke... Michael... saved us all. Across every timeline, every universe."
Pavitr's voice dropped, filled with both awe and sorrow. "Miguel said that Sir Michael sacrificed himself to fix it all. He changed the canon events... saved the people who were erased by the quantum holes. He saved my world, Hobie. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him."
Hobie grunted in agreement. "None of us would, bruv. He gave everything." He paused, thinking about the enormity of Michael's sacrifice. "It's not the first time someone's laid it all on the line for the rest of us... but this? This was something else."
Pavitr nodded, his usual spark dimmed by the weight of it all. "Sir Michael... he didn't have a variant. No other versions of him across the multiverse. And I was like.... shocked"
Hobie tilted his head, a small smirk forming. "A true original, then. Figures. Only someone like him could pull that off."
Pavitr's eyes clouded with emotion. "It's strange, isn't it? To think someone like him... gone."
Hobie, ever the optimist beneath his punk exterior, shook his head. "Nah, mate, he isn't gone. Not really. He's still out there somewhere. That's why we've been searching for him."
Pavitr's expression softened, a flicker of hope returning. "You're right. We can't give up. Sir Michael wouldn't want us to. He always said to keep fighting, no matter what."
Hobie grinned, his usual rebellious spark back. "Exactly, bruv. We ain't quitters. We'll find him, or at least make sure we honor what he stood for. Michael didn't go through all that just for us to roll over and accept defeat."
Pavitr nodded, feeling the weight of the mission settle in his chest. "We'll keep looking. No matter how long it takes."
Hobie gave Pavitr a firm pat on the shoulder. "That's the spirit, mate. We'll find him."
.....
Miguel O'Hara stood at the control panel in the dimly lit room, surrounded by a wall of monitors that displayed an endless array of multiverses, each one home to a different version of Spider-Man. His enhanced vision scanned each one, searching for a glimpse of the man who had changed everything—Michael Wilson. His fingers hovered over the controls, not quite pressing them, as though unsure where to look next.
"Where are you, Michael…" Miguel murmured, the weight of his words pressing down on him. His usually confident demeanor was clouded by a deep sense of responsibility and guilt.
The door to the control room slid open with a soft hiss. His enhanced hearing picked up the faint footsteps immediately. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"Miguel, it's Jessica." came the familiar voice of Jessica Drew, her tone gentle but firm.
"I know," Miguel responded, not taking his eyes off the monitors. "You're here." His voice was distant, his mind still absorbed in the search for the man he owed so much to.
Jessica took a step closer, watching him as he worked tirelessly. "You've been at this for hours. Still searching for him?"
Miguel finally let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "I have to find him, Jess. I have to. I owe him everything—an apology, a thank you, something…"
Jessica sighed softly. She had seen this coming. Ever since Michael Wilson had vanished in that blinding light, Miguel had been consumed by the need to make things right. He had distanced himself from everyone, his entire focus on tracking down the man who had saved the Spider-Verse.
"Miguel," she began, carefully choosing her words, "You've been through so much. But Michael made his choice."
Miguel finally turned to face her, his expression hardened by guilt. "He can't just disappear, Jess. He saved all of us. Every Spider-Verse, every timeline—even my daughter's universe. The one that had been erased. Michael brought it back… and I got to be with her again." His voice softened for a moment, but the pain was still there, lingering beneath the surface.
Jessica could see the emotion building behind his eyes. "You were happy," she said gently. "You had your daughter back. He gave you that."
Miguel looked away, the guilt overwhelming him. "But now he's gone. And I didn't even get the chance to apologize… I treated him like he was a threat. I pushed him away when he was the one who saved everything, Jess. How can I be happy while he's out there, and I never got to say I was wrong?" His voice cracked, the frustration and regret spilling out in waves.
Jessica stepped closer, her voice firm but understanding. "Miguel, you're not the only one who feels this way. We all owe him. But you can't let this guilt destroy you. Michael didn't sacrifice himself for us to live with this weight on our shoulders. He trusted you. He trusted all of us."
Miguel's jaw clenched, his eyes flicking back to the monitors. "I have to make it right. I have to find him. He's out there, somewhere. I can't let him stay lost."
Jessica placed a hand on his arm, grounding him in the moment. "We'll find him." she said, her voice filled with certainty. "Together. He's too strong, too important to be lost forever. And when we do, you'll get your chance to thank him. We all will."
Miguel's gaze softened slightly, but the determination in his eyes remained fierce. He looked back at the endless streams of multiverses flashing before him, the image of Michael Wilson's sacrifice etched in his mind. He wasn't ready to give up.
"I won't rest until I do," he said quietly. "Michael's not gone. He can't be. I'll make it right."
Jessica nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "Then we'll keep searching. Together."
And with that, Miguel turned back to the monitors, hope flickering in his chest. Somewhere, Michael Wilson was out there. And Miguel O'Hara would stop at nothing to find him.
[2 Chapters Epilogue Remaining]
To be continue