The air was heavy with the metallic tang of electricity. Otto Octavius—inhabiting the body of Peter Parker, now the Superior Spider-Man—stood still as the swirling vortex of energy snapped shut behind him. The event had been sudden, violent, and entirely unforeseen. He had been in the midst of fine-tuning one of his recent inventions in his New York lab, only for the room to erupt in blinding light and deafening static. Now, he stood in a world unfamiliar, a foreign skyline spread before him.
He was atop a building of mid-level height, the city below humming with life. Neon lights reflected off the wet pavement; cars wove through traffic, their engines emitting a low drone. His enhanced lenses adjusted automatically to the dim light, sharpening details and mapping his immediate surroundings.
"This… is not Manhattan," Otto muttered, his voice tinged with irritation. He surveyed the architecture—a mixture of sleek modernity and technological advancements that bordered on futuristic. Strange symbols adorned several buildings. A towering structure in the distance bore an emblem he didn't recognize, a stylized 'L' encased in a circle.
He clenched his fists. This is not a mere displacement. This is another universe entirely.
Otto's mind raced. The portal had been neither natural nor accidental. Someone had engineered this, which meant someone had a reason for pulling him from his world. The thought unsettled him briefly, but the feeling was swiftly replaced by determination. He had survived worse—defeated greater threats. If this world thought it could best him, it was mistaken.
First, survival. Otto understood the principles of survival better than most. Without information, one was vulnerable. Vulnerability led to failure, and failure was unacceptable. He crouched low, keeping his silhouette hidden from any possible observers, and activated the HUD in his lenses. A soft hum accompanied the display of information as his scanners went to work.
"Systems operational," he muttered. "Good. At least some semblance of order remains."
His web-shooters were functional, as were his augmented reality lenses and utility belt. Most of his high-tech gadgets had survived the transition, though his connection to the wider network of his original world was severed. His heart quickened—not with fear, but with the thrill of a new problem to solve.
Otto deployed a small spider-drone from his belt. The device skittered down the side of the building, its sensors scanning for any nearby networks or signals. Within moments, its data began streaming to his HUD. The drone identified several active signals: communication channels, power grids, and local network nodes.
Otto accessed one of the weaker signals, bypassing its encryption with relative ease. A feed of data scrolled across his lenses, much of it fragmented and difficult to parse. One detail, however, stood out: the name of the city.
"Metropolis," he murmured. The name held no significance to him, though it confirmed his suspicion—he was no longer in New York, or even on his Earth.
He paused, taking a deep breath. His next step would require precision. He needed to establish a base of operations, gather resources, and analyze the full extent of this world's capabilities. Anything less would leave him at a disadvantage, and Otto Octavius did not operate from a position of weakness.
Swinging across the city was both exhilarating and disconcerting. The air felt different, heavier somehow, and the faint hum of electricity seemed omnipresent. Otto moved with purpose, his body executing each maneuver with mechanical precision. Every swing, every flip, was a testament to his mastery over the body he now inhabited. He had long since ceased marveling at the physicality of Parker's form. It was a tool—one he wielded with unparalleled skill.
His target was a derelict district on the city's outskirts. From above, he had spotted several abandoned buildings: factories, warehouses, and offices that had long been neglected. One such factory, its roof partially caved in, seemed a suitable candidate for his needs.
Otto landed silently on the factory's roof, his senses immediately attuned to his surroundings. He scanned for signs of life but found none. Satisfied, he pried open a rusted access hatch and descended into the building.
Inside, the air was stale, thick with dust and the faint scent of oil. Machinery lay scattered, rusted and broken, remnants of a bygone era. Otto wasted no time. He retrieved a portable power generator from his utility belt, a compact device he had designed for emergencies. The generator purred to life, and the factory's overhead lights flickered on, illuminating the space.
"This will do," Otto said, his voice echoing in the empty hall.
He deployed several spider-drones, instructing them to map the building's layout and locate structurally sound areas. While the drones worked, Otto began setting up his portable workstation. From his belt, he extracted a collapsible holographic interface. The device projected a floating array of screens and keyboards, allowing him to begin his analysis of the data he had collected.
The network Otto had accessed earlier provided only surface-level information, but it was enough to paint a picture of this world. He skimmed through news articles, historical records, and technological specifications, piecing together the basics.
"This world's heroes are… different," Otto mused, reading an article about the so-called Superman. An alien with godlike powers, revered as a savior. Otto scoffed at the notion. "Blind devotion. A weakness that could be exploited."
Another name caught his attention: Lex Luthor. Unlike Superman, this Luthor appeared to be a man of intellect, a scientist, and a businessman. Otto's lips curled into a faint smile. Perhaps this world was not entirely without merit.
He continued his research, growing more intrigued with each passing moment. The technology of this world, while advanced, lacked the refinement of his own creations. Their communication networks, though impressive, were vulnerable to infiltration. Their heroes operated under strict moral codes, often to their detriment. Otto saw opportunity in every detail.
"This world is ripe for a superior mind," he said, leaning back from his workstation. "It will bend to my will, or it will break."
As Otto worked, he remained vigilant. His drones patrolled the perimeter, their sensors attuned to any sign of intrusion. Hours passed without incident, allowing him to establish a rudimentary base of operations. The factory was equipped with power, surveillance, and a secure workstation. It was not ideal, but it was sufficient for now.
Otto stood before a makeshift workbench, assembling a new device. He had salvaged components from the factory's machinery, combining them with parts from his utility belt. The result was a multi-purpose emitter, capable of generating a localized EMP pulse. It was a simple invention, but one that could prove invaluable.
As he tested the device, a thought occurred to him. Why was I brought here?
The question lingered, gnawing at the edges of his mind. He had no enemies capable of such a feat—none that he knew of, at least. Was this the work of one of Parker's old foes? Or was it something far greater, a force beyond even his comprehension?
"No," Otto said aloud, dismissing the notion. "There is no force beyond my comprehension. Only challenges to be solved."
He activated the emitter, watching as it emitted a brief pulse of energy. The lights flickered but remained stable. Satisfied, Otto deactivated the device and set it aside.
By the time the first rays of sunlight crept through the broken windows, Otto's base was fully operational. He had mapped the city's infrastructure, identified key points of interest, and constructed a series of gadgets to aid in his endeavors.
Standing in the center of the factory, Otto surveyed his work with a sense of pride. He was a man out of place, out of time, but not out of his depth. This world would come to know the name of The Superior Spiderman, not as a villain, but as a superior Hero.
As he donned his mask and prepared to venture into the city once more, one thought burned in his mind: Whoever brought me here will regret it.
The Superior Spider-Man was ready to begin his journey in to the new world.