Bombing, explosions, screams, thick smoke.
These things mixed with human limbs and blood. The familiar city had become strange; one step further lay a living hell.
Skyscrapers collapsed beneath the Helicarriers' concentrated bombardment, while the Helicarriers were shot down by Superheroes. The Superheroes, in turn, might die to bullets fired from the shadows, while the gunmen might be tackled by zombies the very next second.
The world was beyond saving, like a person terminally ill.
Yet even now, some people had not given up hope. Spider-Man of Earth-616, for instance. This hero was still playing the role of the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, helping people take shelter in the streets.
"Go this way! Don't panic! Trust the Avengers, we'll save everyone!"
But could people truly hear him and believe him? The answer was probably no. People only clutched their heads and fled madly. However flies looked when startled, that was how they looked.
Spider-Man was not stupid. He knew that people would most likely not hear him.
But during the long time Doctor Octopus had imprisoned his consciousness in a basement, he had seriously reflected on his past and decided that, if he ever got out, he would become a better version of himself.
Not long ago, the doctor had returned his body to him, so he had returned to the scene.
Parker Industries stood in the distance. The building was burning in fierce flames, even bending slightly like a matchstick, but Peter no longer cared about the loss.
To be honest, he was not even sure whether he would survive. But his uncle had once said:
"With great power comes great responsibility."
He whispered those words to himself and further steeled his resolve. Even if only one person among these civilians could hear him, he would not give up.
"Friends,