The turmoil in New York has come to a complete end.
The heated online debate gradually subsided, and the city streets returned to their usual bustling atmosphere. Everything seemed to have returned to calm, but for Peter Parker, the turmoil did not completely dissipate with the end of the trial.
Life at the base has been very comfortable these past few days.
Tony stopped lecturing him harshly, only occasionally making fun of his embarrassing moments of being scammed, with a hint of teasing and indulgence.
Wanda and Quicksilver's encouragement, and Lynn's guidance, seemed to soothe the boy's grievances.
But only Peter himself knew that the thorn stuck in his heart had never been completely removed.
He accepted the ending, but he couldn't accept his own naiveté.
In the stillness of the night, lying in bed, Quentin's face with its fake smile always involuntarily floats into my mind.
All those gentle encouragements, the illusion of standing shoulder to shoulder, and the sincere entrustments were all part of a carefully crafted script, and he was the most foolish and most invested audience member.
He was not afraid of enemy fire, nor of alien invasion, nor of risking his life time and time again to protect the city.
What he feared was the disaster that would result from his own immaturity.
I fear that my inherent purity and kindness will be exploited by ambitious people time and time again, bringing irreparable trouble to those around me and the entire city.
Lynn's words stuck in his mind: kindness needs an edge, trust cannot be blind, and the growth of a hero requires learning to see through pretense, endure betrayal, and discern people's true intentions.
He understood Tony's teachings: the first lesson for a superhero is always to be skeptical, to be cautious, and never to unconditionally trust unverified human nature.
Being able to understand and remember something is different from actually doing it.
Peter knew his own personality perfectly well.
If a second or third " Quentin Beck " appears next time, and if the disguise is even more perfect and the plan even more meticulous, will he fall for it again?
He can't rely on the people around him every time; he wants to truly become stronger.
It's not just about increasing strength, speed, and combat technology; it's also about a transformation in his mindset, judgment, and ability to recognize people. He wants to shed his naivety, to have the confidence to stand alone, and to stand on the battlefield in the future without his soft heart and naivety becoming weaknesses.
He didn't want to cause any more trouble for the others in SSC.
Peter for two whole days and finally came up with the only solution.
Stephen Strange!
The afternoon sun in New York was warm and gentle.
Peter changed into civilian clothes, avoided everyone at the base, and left the SSC headquarters alone. He didn't tell anyone.
He wanted to rely on himself to complete this transformative trial that belonged to him.
Manhattan, the Sanctum Sanctorum.
The ancient, heavy black gate stands silently, isolating the city from its hustle and bustle. The carved stone door, the ancient patterns, and the floating magic array all exude mystery and solemnity.
Peter a deep breath and gently knocked on the door.
A moment later, the door opened slowly and automatically.
A familiar, languid voice echoed in the hall, carrying a touch of the unique detachment and aloofness of a mage. "A rare guest. What brings you here today? Did Tony ask you to run errands again?"
Stephen Strange, dressed in a deep blue sorcerer's robes, walked slowly out of the corridor with one hand behind his back. The Time Stone was gone, but the magical aura surrounding him still proclaimed the majesty and profound power of the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth.
He looked at the somewhat silent and solemn-looking boy in front of him, raised an eyebrow slightly, and sensed that something was wrong.
"You don't look like you're just dropping by. What happened this time?"
Peter stood in the center of the hall, looked up at the most powerful mage on Earth, and without beating around the bush, spoke solemnly, " Doctor Strange, I've come to ask you for a favor."
"Help?" Strange walked up to him, looking him up and down. "Is there anything you can't handle? Trouble that Lynn and Tony couldn't resolve? There's no use coming to me."
"It's not external trouble," Peter shook his head, his eyes extremely serious. "It's my own problem."
He paused for a moment, then laid bare all the struggles, vulnerabilities, and confusion in his heart.
"You should know what happened in New York. I was terribly fooled by Quentin Beck. I was too naive, too trusting, my kindness had no limits, and my trust was unguarded. I almost destroyed the whole city and made everyone pay for my immaturity."
"I know I was wrong, and I've learned my lesson. I'm afraid I'll be fooled again next time and become everyone's weakness again."
Peter raised his head, his gaze fixed firmly on Strange: "Doctor, I've heard you're skilled in illusions, magic, and the construction of mental realms. I'd like to ask you to construct a virtual illusion trial for me."
Strange's pupils contracted slightly, his expression showing surprise. "You want me to train you with illusions? Why don't you go find Lynn and Wanda? They'd be more suitable."
"Yes. I don't want to be that impulsive, blindly trusting kid anymore. I want to truly stand on my own. I don't want to cause any more trouble for the others in SSC."
Strange gazed silently into the boy's clear yet stubborn eyes, remaining silent for a long time.
He had initially thought that the boy would be depressed and timid for a while after experiencing the New York scam, but to his surprise, the boy took the initiative to seek help.
Their temperament, resilience, and courage far surpass those of ordinary people.
Do you know what the Illusion Trial means?
"The magical illusion I construct is infinitely close to reality. Pain, emotions, perceptions, and psychological impact are all replicated synchronously. You will experience betrayal, deception, and exploitation countless times in the illusion, which will take a huge toll on your spirit and may even leave you with psychological trauma."
"I'm not afraid," Peter without hesitation. "I've already experienced real pain. Rather than dragging everyone down time and time again, I'd rather be injured a thousand times and be awake a thousand times in this illusion."
Strange looked at his resolute expression and sighed slowly.
"What a stubborn little brat."
He raised his hand and made a light, sweeping gesture, a pale golden magical aura swirling in his palm. "Alright. I can construct a simulated illusion for you, specifically designed to train your judgment and mental fortitude."
Peter's eyes lit up instantly, and a weight was lifted from his heart.
"Thank you, Doctor!"
Don't thank me yet.
Strange interrupted him, his expression serious, "The construction of a magical illusion requires anchor points, precise mental projections, to build the most realistic trial scenario."
Are you sure what you want most right now is to cultivate your character, right?
Peter stiffened slightly, then nodded gently. "Yes."
"Good."
Strange formed hand seals, and magical runes around his body instantly lit up, filling the entire Sanctum Sanctorum hall with a golden magical aura. The space trembled slightly, and the dimensional barriers quietly loosened.
"I will replicate countless versions of ' Quentin -style scams,' simulating different disguises, different acts of kindness, and different gentle traps, so that you can repeatedly discern and break free from the illusion, completely eradicating your blind trust."
Magic flowed, light and shadow danced.
But just as Strange was about to solidify the illusion template, the obsession the boy least wanted to mention to others uncontrollably surged into the magical link.
He wanted to become stronger, but he was also afraid that he would never be strong enough.
He wanted to take responsibility, but he also wondered if he could live a normal life with MJ if he didn't have the Spider-Man identity.
This is Peter's most pressing and obsessive psychological issue right now, far exceeding the pain of being deceived.
Magic is a reflection of the mind, a projection of the subconscious.
What was originally just a simple illusionary trial magic was instantly swayed off course by this intense obsession.
Strange's expression changed drastically. "Oh no! Your obsession is interfering with the magic!"
He originally only wanted to construct a closed, controllable, and singular simulated fantasy world.
But Peter's subconscious, intense desire to "return to a normal life and evade responsibility" forcibly altered the underlying logic of the magic spell.
boom--!
The entire Sanctum Sanctorum trembled violently, a torrent of magic surged wildly between heaven and earth, and a golden pillar of light burst through the roof, piercing the sky. The multiverse barrier on the surface of the Earth was instantly torn open by the out-of-control magic, leaving a tiny, terrifying crack.
Strange's face turned deathly pale as he frantically tried to retract the magic. "Stop! Peter! Stop your thoughts right now!"
But once the obsession is formed and the spell is complete, it is impossible to reverse.
Spatial folds spread wildly, dimensional channels flickered chaotically, and countless misplaced spacetime fragments seeped out from the cracks.
In a distant parallel universe.
Three long-dormant shackles snapped with a deafening roar.
Several alien auras, lurking in the cracks of spacetime, quietly descended into the main universe along this fissure.
Peter stared blankly at the towering pillar of magical light, at the suddenly distorted space, his mind a complete blank.
Boom--
Golden beams of magical light pierced the dome of the Sanctum Sanctorum and shot straight through the clouds of Manhattan.
The air throughout New York was trembling violently. Ordinary people could only vaguely feel a tightness in their chest and dizziness, but for Sorcerer Supreme like Strange, and Lynn, whose perception of space, time and energy far surpassed that of ordinary people, the scene before them was nothing short of Shocker.
The once stable and flat spacetime barrier of the main universe is now like a piece of silk torn by brute force, with a fine crack running across the sky. Countless distorted spacetime fragments surge within the crack, and interspersed light and shadow constantly seep in. Fine streams of chaotic laws scatter and fall, landing on streets, buildings, and in the air, silently altering the surrounding spacetime coordinates.
"Stay calm! Don't let your mind wander!"
Strange's face turned ashen as he rapidly formed hand seals, layers upon layers of magic circles exploding in his palms, golden runes spreading across the sky in an attempt to forcibly suppress the out-of-control forbidden spell.
But it was all in vain.
Magic is ultimately a matter of the mind.
Peter 'Peter stubbornness, deep regret, and resentment had completely altered the underlying logic of this magic.
Even more fatally, before the spell was fully formed, the change in the extraction anchor point forcibly reversed the origin of magic, triggering a terrifying spacetime backlash.
Peter stood there, stiff as a board, his hands and feet ice-cold.
He stared blankly at the magical pillar of light piercing the heavens and earth above him, at the ever-wriggling and expanding spacetime rifts, his mind a complete blank.
He just wanted to change his naive and gullible ways, and he just wanted to avoid being deceived by lies and dragging everyone down next time.
From beginning to end, he had no intention of harming anyone, nor any thought of acting recklessly.
But it was precisely this obsession with growth and getting rid of weaknesses that led to an unprecedented disaster.
"I... I didn't mean to..."
Peter's lips trembled, his voice hoarse and weak, and panic and self-reproach instantly filled his eyes. His composure, having just emerged from Quentin's deception, completely crumbled at this moment, overwhelmed by intense guilt once more. "Doctor, I really didn't mean to mess this up... I just wanted you to help me with the illusion trial..."
"I know."
Strange gritted his teeth and growled, veins bulging on his forehead, as he frantically unleashed a torrent of magic to barely stabilize the ever-expanding spacetime rift. His voice was urgent and heavy, "But magic allows no room for luck! Your subconscious obsession runs too deep!"
The boy's initial intentions were pure and open, without selfishness or malice; he simply longed to become stronger and shed his naivety.
But it was precisely this contradictory mindset—gritting his teeth to shoulder all the responsibility while subconsciously yearning to unload the burden and return to an ordinary life—that became the most fatal magical fuse.
The illusionary trial needs an anchor point. Peter's deepest anchor points are Quentin's betrayal, the despair of his identity being exposed, and the regret of his naivety causing a catastrophe. Countless negative emotions intertwine and entangle, causing the precisely controllable magic to completely spiral out of control.
"The spell is stuck at the critical point."
Strange's gaze was fixed on the spatial rift in the air, his face extremely grim. "I have no idea what effect the spell I just cast will have. This is troublesome."
The moment the words fell, several distinctly different evil auras quietly seeped in from the distant rift in time and space.
Cold, violent, twisted, and insane.
Dark energy, not belonging to this universe, like a venomous snake that has been lurking for a long time, silently spreads along the gaps in spacetime and quietly takes root in the land of New York.
Buzz--!
In an instant, an invisible ripple of perception suddenly exploded out of the SSC base.
Lynn, who was sunbathing on the base's terrace, suddenly focused his gaze, and his lazy posture instantly vanished.
The turbulent currents of spacetime floating in the air, the misaligned laws of the universe, and the unfamiliar, alien aura were all clearly reflected in his perception.
A spacetime rift?
Lynn slowly stood up, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, which quickly turned into understanding.
The answer is self-evident without needing to think about it too much.
Strange, eager to mature after Peter betrayal, and Strange, arrogant by nature, combined their traits to inevitably lead to some questionable actions.
This time, however, the trigger was no longer the boy's willful selfishness, but his urgent desire to transform and stand on his own.
Natasha, noticing his change, asked softly, "What's wrong?"
" New York City, towards the Sanctum Sanctorum." Lynn gazed in the direction of Manhattan, his tone calm yet tinged with solemnity. "The spacetime barrier has been torn open; the 'guests' from parallel universes are arriving."
Above the Sanctum Sanctorum, the spacetime rift was still expanding slightly.
He finally understood what Lynn meant when she said, "The pain of growing up is inevitable."
The previous deceptions and betrayals were merely growing pains. But now, his momentary obsession is jeopardizing the safety of the entire universe.
The immense pressure almost suffocated him; self-blame and panic completely overwhelmed him.
"How could it have turned out like this...?"
Strange looked at Strange with a helpless expression, Peter voice trembling with tears.
Strange looked at the boy's broken and helpless appearance, sighed inwardly, but had no time to soften his heart.
Just then, the spacetime rift in the sky trembled violently.
A violent, twisted, and foul-smelling green energy burst through the crack in the barrier and crashed onto the street outside the Sanctum Sanctorum.
Boom!
A violent explosion suddenly rang out, streetlights shattered instantly, asphalt pavement crumbled and cracked, and green toxic energy spread wildly along the ground, corroding everything around it.
Amidst the billowing smoke and dust, a hunched and ferocious figure slowly rose to his feet.
Green skin, ferocious fangs, taut dark green muscles, and a pair of vertical pupils filled with violence and madness, staring intently at the unfamiliar city and sky before him.
A strange world, a strange sky, a strange energy.
Norman Osborn, the Green Goblin from another dimension, crossed time and space to arrive first.
"Where am I...?"
A deep, hoarse voice, carrying the eerie feeling of a dual personality, slowly rose from the smoke and dust.
The next second, the confusion in his eyes vanished instantly, leaving only extreme madness and brutality.
"A new battlefield... a new game..."
Almost at the same moment the Green Goblin landed, space above the Brooklyn Bridge suddenly distorted.
Sizzle--
Dense bolts of lightning tore through the air, and a blue cage of electricity appeared out of thin air, carrying a figure wrapped in lightning, which crashed heavily into the seawater.
A towering splash erupted as a tall, slender figure burst forth from the water, surrounded by crackling electricity and with an eerie blue glow in his pupils.
Inside an abandoned power plant in Queens, a viscous black liquid surged and churned wildly, quickly covering the entire plant area.
The pitch-black Symbiote continued to expand and coalesce, eventually coalescing into a tall and ferocious humanoid silhouette, its white fangs gleaming coldly, and its deep roar echoing throughout the entire block.
Venom has quietly appeared.
In just a few dozen seconds, three completely different supervillains from parallel universes appeared one after another.
The air in New York instantly shifted from calm to deadly oppressive.
Strange's heart sank; his worst fears had come true.
Once the rift opens, it will not only draw in a single extradimensional life form. The causal lines of the multiverse will be completely disrupted, and all characters who have ties or grudges with " Spider-Man " will be forcibly pulled across dimensions by the chaotic forces of spacetime and converge here.
This is just the beginning.
Soon, even more villains from other factions will follow.
"This is bad news. I'm going to be another one to get a lesson. I hope Lynn goes easy on me."
The naivety that had just begun to fade was now completely crushed. The boy stood in the empty hall of the Sanctum Sanctorum, his body ice-cold, his heart filled with endless regret and helplessness.
Just then, a calm and composed figure quietly appeared at the entrance of the Sanctum Sanctorum.
Lynn walked slowly into the hall, his gaze sweeping over the chaotic magical runes and the crumbling spacetime barrier, finally settling on Strange, Peter face was filled with self-reproach, and Strange, whose expression was solemn. His tone was calm and unwavering:
"There's no need to force it to stop; the person is on our side. Even if you stop the spell now, it won't solve the problem."
He raised his head, gazing at the spatial rift that pierced the heavens and earth, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Since things have come to this, let's prevent the universes from colliding first, then consider other issues."
After saying that, he looked at the two of them and said, "You caused this mess, so you'll have to deal with it yourselves. I'll only intervene to ensure that the multiverses don't collide; don't expect me to clean up your messes."