---
Night had fallen.
The vast expanse of space stretched endlessly above, a sea of darkness speckled with countless stars.
Below, the serene city of Venice slumbered under the gentle embrace of the sea breeze, its canals lapping softly against ancient stone.
The streets, once bustling with tourists and locals alike, had quieted to a tranquil hum, broken only by the occasional distant murmur of a passing boat.
But beneath this peaceful surface, in the depths of a damp, dimly lit basement, another kind of gathering was taking place.
"Take off the hood. Everyone here already knows your face."
A gruff voice echoed through the room.
"There's no point in being mysterious," the man continued. "Trying to breathe through that chemical fiber isn't exactly comfortable, is it?"
Nick Fury strode purposefully down a narrow corridor, his one eye keenly scanning the surroundings as he led a slightly hesitant Peter Parker into an underground base hastily set up beneath the historic city.
The dim lighting flickered against cold stone walls, casting long, shifting shadows.
Peter sighed as he pulled back his mask, revealing his youthful face. "Have you tried reaching out to Wanda?"
His thoughts immediately drifted to the powerful Avenger.
Wanda Maximoff had been present when Fury had first come to recruit him, and given her immense abilities, Peter couldn't help but feel that she was the better choice for whatever mission was at hand.
After all, what did they need him for when they had someone as powerful as her?
Fury didn't break stride. "She's currently occupied with… personal matters," he said dryly, rolling his eye. "But she's agreed to join the operation when needed."
He motioned toward two individuals standing nearby.
"This is Dimitri," he said, indicating a broad-shouldered man gripping a rifle with a practiced ease. "And this is Maria Hill."
Peter gave a small nod of acknowledgment to Hill, who returned it with a curt but professional smile.
Then Fury pointed to a man clad in a striking cape and armored battle suit.
"And finally, this is Mr. Beck."
Peter's eyes widened in surprise. "Mysterio?"
Quentin Beck looked up sharply.
Peter caught himself and quickly added, "Sorry. That's just the name my friend came up with for you. You know how it is—people love giving superheroes nicknames." He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Like, uh… for example, those big guys they're calling the 'Shadow Titan.'"
At the mention of that name, Quentin's fingers twitched slightly beneath the table.
The flicker of resentment in his eyes was nearly imperceptible, but it was there. A moment later, he forced a smile.
"Not a bad name," he said evenly.
Peter, oblivious to the shift in Beck's demeanor, continued, "Yeah, some people even think the Shadow Titan might be the next big thing, like a new version of the Hulk or something."
Quentin clenched his fists beneath the table. That name. Again.
Since last night, he had heard it over and over. The Shadow Titan. The rising sensation. The new mysterious figure.
Damn it.
This was supposed to be his moment. His triumph. His glory.
And yet, now, people weren't just talking about him. They were talking about someone else. Some unknown, unseen figure stealing the spotlight that should have belonged to him alone.
His jaw tightened, but he forced his voice to remain calm. "Peter," he said, keeping his expression solemn. "We have to rely on ourselves. We can't count on anyone else."
Peter frowned, confused by the intensity in his voice.
"If relying on others worked," Quentin continued, his voice carrying the weight of false grief, "then my world wouldn't have been destroyed."
Peter's head tilted slightly. "Wait—your world?"
Fury, seeing the moment unfold, interjected. "Mr. Beck is from Earth, but not our Earth. He comes from another universe—Earth-663. His home was wiped out by the Elementals, the very same creatures you fought today."
Peter's eyes widened. "You're serious?"
Fury gave a solemn nod. "Two Elementals are already down. But two remain. If they aren't stopped, the devastation they'll bring could be catastrophic."
Peter swallowed. His summer vacation had already been way more intense than expected, and this wasn't exactly the relaxing break he'd had in mind.
He sighed, rubbing his temple. "Look, I just wanted to enjoy my summer, okay? You have Wanda. She's way stronger than me. She can help you."
Fury ignored the protest and continued. "Speaking of Wanda, I need a favor. Tomorrow, you're going to be traveling with her. Your group is headed to Prague."
Peter's brow furrowed. "Wait—Prague? We're in Venice. Why would we suddenly be going there?"
Fury's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Travel arrangements have a way of changing."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping slightly. "There's someone I need you to keep an eye on while you're there. A man named Finn."
Something about the way Fury said it made Peter uneasy. "Finn?"
Fury nodded. "He was with Wanda earlier today. There's something off about him, and I need to know what."
Peter hesitated, then shook his head. "Nope. Not happening." He crossed his arms. "Wanda really likes that guy. I saw them together—they literally kissed today. I'm not getting involved in this."
With that, he turned sharply and walked away. As he passed Quentin, he offered an apologetic glance. "Sorry, but I won't be going to Prague with you."
Quentin merely smiled, though his eyes held something darker.
"Not a problem."
Once Peter was out of earshot, Hill looked at Fury. "What now?"
Fury leaned back in his chair, closing his eye. "Don't worry. He'll be on that plane to Prague tomorrow."
The confidence in his tone left no room for doubt.
---
The Next Morning
The entrance of the hotel was abuzz with students gathering their things.
Parked on the curb was a sleek black van, its design noticeably more military than the usual tourist vehicle.
Peter stood among his classmates, staring at the van with a sinking feeling.
"What the hell is that?" Ned whispered beside him.
Before Peter could answer, their teacher, Mr. Harrington, stepped out of the hotel, grinning ear to ear.
He held up a stack of documents excitedly.
"Alright, everyone! Change of plans—we're going to Prague!"
Peter's heart dropped.
"Wait—what?"
"Yep! We got super lucky! The travel agency called and said our tour has been upgraded!" Harrington announced with enthusiasm.
Peter paled. His mouth opened slightly before he slowly turned to Ned, his voice barely above a whisper.
"It's over…"
Ned looked at him, confused. "What's wrong?"
Peter exhaled sharply. "Our vacation's been hijacked."
Ned blinked. "By who?"
Peter rubbed his temples, dreading what was coming next.
"Nick Fury."
He had been so sure he had escaped.
So sure he had avoided being roped into another mission.
But, once again, he had underestimated the world's greatest spy.
It was way too easy for Nick Fury to reroute an entire tour group.
Peter's shoulders slumped.
This summer was not going to be relaxing.
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