Peter Parker (the_spider_man) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2018-06-04 11:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | *chele, peter parker (mcu), violet parr |
Peter had been working hard on a bunch of formulas for potential intake studies; as an intern, actually working with the Intake was a far away dream, but what he could do was provide some analysis and perhaps help, with his formulas point out any irregularties within the construct that might, perhaps, help make the thing a bit less prone to problems. He wasn't all too successful so far, but he'd managed to plug away at quite a few options, and currently was letting about a 100,000 different simulations run on each of his given formulas to see if anything might be different. He'd been at the simulations for about an hour before he'd slowly let himself fall asleep at the desk, head down, cheek against the cold metal. There were others of course, milling about, running their own ideas, or formulas, or whatever project they were each working on, but everyone was either hard at work, or talking among themselves. Peter had essentially been keeping to himself. As he slept, his brow began twitching, the world around him seemed to fade away, and suddenly there he was on a dark, grim, orange world. Debris and destruction all about. There he was, and there was Tony, and some wizard who called himself Doctor Strange, and a ragtag group of space... somethings. Pirates? Whatever. Called themselves the Guardians. They were standing about, talking; there was something about a guy named Thanos, but Peter had no idea what really was going on. Then the Mad Titan showed up; he was huge, and powerful, terrifying even. The group attacked and executed their gameplan almost flawlessly. The idea was to get the gauntlet off the beast of a man, the source of his power and the thing he was going to use to wipe out half of the known universe. Half of all life. Why would anyone want to do that? Why? To what end. He had some bogus excuse about resources and all that, but that was a load of crap as far as Peter was concerned. They fought, and Tony, Peter, Quill, and Mantis nearly had his gauntlet off when Quill learned that Thanos had killed someone named Gamora. Peter didn't know what that meant, but suddenly Quill lost his mind and began shooting, allowing Thanos to regain control and a battle ensued, with Thanos essentially wiping the floor of all of them. Then Strange gave Thanos the time stone to save Mr. Stark, which Peter appreciated. And immediately Thanos vanished. It wasn't more than what seemed a few minutes before a somber feeling fell over the crowd. First Drax, then Mantis, Quill... they all began to vanish into clouds of ash. Thanos had won, isn't that what that meant? He was killing them all... then suddenly Peter started feeling strange. It was his spidey sense, it was going crazy, but it couldn't pinpoint the danger and instead he just started feeling sick, terrified, and he knew what was happening. He was next. He begged Tony to not let him go, he didn't want to go. Why had he been so dumb? Why had he followed on this mission? He laid down, his body failing him, he could feel it getting lighter. All he could say was that he was sorry. Sorry for what? Sorry for coming when he was told not to, sorry for not getting that gauntlet off sooner, he should have been stronger; he was sorry for being scared to die, that's not what an Avenger was. He was sorry that he couldn't have survived, he knew this would eat away at Tony. He was just... sorry. Then everything began to fade to black... And then Peter gasped, waking up from the floor, in a drenched sweat, cold and clinging to his clothes in the middle of the lab. He breathed out heavily, patting his chest, legs, arms; he was alive. But how? That wasn't a dream. Peter knew dreams, but they weren't fading, they were sewn into his mind as memories, he felt them as real as if they'd happened moments ago. And they had. He pushed to his feet, breathing heavily, then his eyes went wide, "No! May! Ned!" Peter immediately began to fear his friends back home were gone too. Quickly he looked at the Intake, but he knew better than to try and hijack it for just getting home, but he had to know, had to find out what happened to them. He kept feeling at his chest and arms, afraid he'd be swept away at any moment. What about the other Avengers? His friends on Titan who had just passed away. Were they here now? Had he just thought he'd come here via a coin? Was this some sort of afterlife and he was just remembering his death? He shook his head and breathed out. He glanced to the computer. All simulations were complete. He must have been asleep for hours. |