Peter takes a step forward. Breathes. Peers down to the busy streets, trying to ignore the steady pounding of his heart, drowning and drowning his mind's cries. He's tired. He's so, so tired. Just another step, and he'll... fall. He's so, so, so close to the edge, that if he just leans- "Kid?" Peter startles. He turns, eyes wide and movements stiff. "Mr Stark."

From across the battlefield, his eyes meet Tony's. And Peter realises, shaking, that he cannot let Tony die. He breathes. Ash fills his lungs, suffocating him as he raises an arm, a single gauntlet forming. The world watches with bated breaths, as for a moment, Peter Parker wields the power of the gods. Then, he curls his fingers in. And snaps.