Spider-X: A Spider-Man Story

Prologue

Planet 0259-S

Thanos limps along the dirt path, well worn from his footsteps. He carries a bucket in one hand, his other little more than a charred mess. The scarring ends at his shoulder. It hurts. But it is worth it. His mission is complete: half of all living beings in the universe exterminated, leaving the remaining half to flourish.

He finds his favorite rock. It overlooks a field of wildflowers that he admires while the moons of this planet set. He basks in the worship of the grateful worlds. They are all his children now, protected, provided for, and now destined to live free of starvation or any resource depletion. It was not an easy journey–his heart still aches for Gamora and his lost soldiers–but his victory makes it worth it.

Only one thing left to do.

He looks at his scarred hand, the infinity gauntlet welded to his flesh. He studies the infinity stones, the reason for his decade of strife and toil. Space, mind, reality, time, power, soul, the source of infinite power. Power no individual, other than himself, should have. It's too dangerous.

He prepares himself for his final feat. A just ending to his odyssey. He raises his hand.

And snaps.

He feels the stones' energy wash over him, excruciating, melting his arm from his body. The stones shatter, sending rays of exploding light into the sky, reducing themselves to their atoms.

Gone.

All the Infinity Stones are gone. Turned to ash.

Thanos sits and waits for the Avengers to find him.

**

Earth-299999

His master's screams echo in his ears. His final words.

'Finish my mission. Free our people.'

Then the gunshot.

Then nothing.

His master had thrown him into the sky, carried away from the fight, the survivor now tasked with the completion of their mission. Their purpose. He will avenge his master. He will finish their mission. He will make anyone who stands against him pay.

He lands in sand. Chokes on sand. It infiltrates his cloak, his boots, his mouth. He looks around. Nothing but sand. Miles and miles. He's in a desert.

He pulls out his GPS. He is 50 miles from Amman, Jordan. He pounds his fists against the sand and screams into the endless desert.

Beneath him, the sand heats. It turns scalding. He cries out and crawls as quickly as he can away from the pain. He never was one for enduring pain. His master could grit his teeth but he was always more suited for others to do the dirty work.

In front of him, the sand explodes. It shoots straight up. He covers his head against the unknown threat.

But there is nothing. The sand settles.

He gets to his feet and walks where the sand just shot up. The sand is cool. Undisturbed. As if, whatever was under no longer exists.

A glint of gold catches his eye. He blinks, sure it's a hallucination, but there's another one. And another. He holds his hands out as the gold dust falls over him. What is this magic?

He gasps as he is knocked to his knees, his vision blurring into a gold light that is too bright, but he cannot close his eyes. And then–ah, it burns his eyes–and then-

He sees.