Stark knew it himself. Sometimes, he did find Peter a little too noisy.
That kid had a knack for spouting a whole lot of nonsense in any situation, under any atmosphere. Whether it was to lighten the mood or simply because he was a chatterbox, those meaningless bits of trash talk were usually only a little loud and harmless.
But today, Stark had never hated Spider-Man's chatterbox tendencies so much. Their message histories were buried deep underground, bottomless beneath the earth and impossibly high above it.
Stark scrolled down through message after message for a full three minutes without finding a single useful piece of information.
Even more annoyingly, while he could open each speaker's personal profile, most of the Spider-Men had profile pictures of themselves flashing peace signs, and their bios were full of nonsense too.
That meant Stark had to scrutinize every profile picture for differences, even judging whether they were the person he was looking for from the contours of their features beneath their masks. This was a spot-the-difference game on Hell difficulty, designed purely to torture him.
The search results were not even arranged by time. They were in random order. Stark clicked through more than a dozen at random and found five different Peter Parkers. If he kept searching like this, he would probably never find the Peter Parker he was looking for.
Putting down his phone, Stark rubbed his brow hard. He had thought he had found a shortcut, only to discover it was an even longer detour.
He had wanted to ask in the Spider-Man group chat, but he did not know how to describe the Spider-Man from his universe.
There were so many Peter Parkers here. Everyone looked roughly the same, and their abilities seemed identical. Stark had no idea what identifying