It had been late evening when Peter had been pulled from his own home, a shift that had felt, for a half-second, terrifyingly similar to that moment on Genosha before the entire world changed. He'd thought he was going back ... and couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Either way, it hadn't happened. He'd ended up in some bizarre medical-white room straight out of a creepy sci fi movie, staring at some dude on a screen who told him never to leave. Seriously? Seriously? And the worst of it was that, when Mr Scientist Dude started talking about finding a cure for whatever had screwed up this world, the little scientist part of Peter's own brain had gone into 'solve the puzzle' mode, thinking in cold, clinical terms about protein synthesis and RNA sequences. He was a little disgusted with himself. Or would be, if he could do anything besides freak out.
He frowned at the paper the machine gave him and shoved it in his pocket, then headed out to-- whoa. Mr Scientist Dude wasn't lying; this definitely wasn't Manhattan. Weird dome city outside Geneva? Well, he'd been in stranger places.
His spider sense tingled, just slightly, and he peered down the street to spot what looked like just a regular guy walking away from the center. Shrugging, Peter moved to follow and called, "Hey! Hey, you know what's going on here? Besides, uh, some weirdo post-apocalyptic dystopian future..."