Chapter 211: Side Chapter: Missing Week
Timeline: November 15, 1995 7:00 AM
Peter Parker woke up to the soft rays of dawn filtering through his window, a sense of nervous excitement coursing through him. Today was the day he had been waiting for—his date with Mary Jane Watson. He sat up in bed, running a hand through his hair as he stretched and yawned.
"Today's the day," Peter muttered to himself, his reflection staring back at him from the mirror. He straightened his shirt nervously, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He had been looking forward to this date for weeks, ever since Mary Jane had agreed to go out with him.
Deciding he needed to be presentable, Peter headed into the bathroom. He quickly showered, letting the warm water wake him up fully. Thoughts of his date with Mary Jane danced in his mind as he shampooed and rinsed his hair. He took care to shave and brush his teeth meticulously, wanting to make a good impression.
After his shower, Peter returned to his room and picked out his outfit with care. He settled on a clean pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, pairing them with his favorite sneakers. He checked himself once more in the mirror, adjusting his shirt collar and ensuring everything looked neat.
With his appearance sorted, Peter grabbed his Mcall device and dialed Mary Jane's number on his Mcall device. His fingers tapped nervously on the screen as he waited for her to pick up. After a few rings, her voice came through the speaker.
"Hello, Peter," Mary Jane greeted him warmly.
Peter's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice. "MJ, where do we meet again?"
Mary Jane chuckled softly. "You know, the same spot we've been hanging out with Harry."
Peter laughed nervously. "Right, of course. Sorry, lost in my thoughts there."
Mary Jane teased gently, "It's okay. Just don't be late, okay?"
"Got it," Peter replied, his nerves now tinged with excitement.
As he hung up, Peter felt a surge of anticipation. Today was the day he would try to impress Mary Jane, balancing his teenage life with the responsibilities of being Spider-Man. He took a deep breath, ready to face the day ahead.
.....
Meanwhile
[Michael's POV]
I walked alongside Phil Coulson through the sterile corridors of the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, the dim lights casting long shadows on the walls. The gravity of our conversation weighed heavily on my mind.
"So this Star-Lord guy claims that someone will affect their universe if we don't give him the stone?" I asked Phil, seeking clarification as we navigated the hallways.
Phil, ever composed, nodded gravely. "Yes, Spider-Man. According to him, Ronan is a formidable warrior intent on acquiring the stone at any cost."
I ran a hand through my hair, a mixture of disbelief and concern etched on my face. "Great. Isn't it wonderful" my tone tinged with sarcasm.
I know Star-Lord from the Guardians of the Galaxy comics and movies. Now, he's here from another universe, and he's caught up in this situation with Ronan chasing after him. This makes everything much more complicated.
As we neared the heavily guarded room where Peter Quill was detained, the security systems recognized Phil Coulson's authorization and the door slid open with a faint hiss. Phil gestured for me to follow him inside.
"Mr. Peter Quill," Phil addressed him with professional courtesy. "I'd like you to meet Spider-Man."
I offered a casual greeting, my voice steady despite the tension in the room. "Hello."
Peter Quill's reaction was less than welcoming. He regarded me with a mixture of skepticism and arrogance, his posture defensive and his tone dismissive. "Seriously? You want this guy to join us?" He waved a hand in my direction, his expression incredulous. "I told you, I only need two agents. My team can handle it. I don't need more people to help me, only two agents are fine and..." His gaze scanned me critically, his words biting. "...I don't need help from some weird guy wearing spandex straight out of a cosplay clearance sale."
I felt irritation rising within me at his dismissive attitude. I had forgotten how arrogant and egotistical this guy could be. He thought he was always right, overconfident in his abilities. I wondered which Peter Quill this was—was he from the Annihilation: Conquest universe, the Guardians of the Galaxy (2013) universe, or the 2019 comics? Or perhaps he was from the MCU comics? The only thing I knew for certain was that he hailed from another universe.
I stood my ground, maintaining a calm demeanor despite Peter Quill's dismissive attitude. "Well, young man, if you don't need my help, that's perfectly fine. I won't insist on offering it."
Peter Quill's initial confusion upon being called "young man" quickly butthurt.
"Wh-what? Young man?" he stammered. "Based on your voice, you don't sound much older than me."
Phil Coulson intervened, trying to clarify the situation for Peter Quill.
"Actually, Mr. Quill, he's over 60," Phil explained. "He just looks young due to... something."
Peter Quill was taken aback. "Wait, what? Is he... are you a demi-god or something, sir?"
I chuckled softly. "Nope, nothing like that."
Peter Quill composed himself and asserted his position firmly. "Welp, It doesn't matter. My decision stands. I only need two people, and I don't want anyone else involved in our mess, especially not someone from a different universe."
I nodded in understanding. "Okay."
Turning to Phil, I addressed him directly. "Looks like you don't need my help after all, Agent Phil."
Phil attempted to intervene, but I cut him off before he could speak further.
"Agent Phil, I don't want to force myself into a situation where I'm not trusted," I stated firmly. "Peter doesn't know me, and I understand his caution. I'm just a stranger to him, someone from another universe in a suit. You're the only connection he has here, and I respect that."
I glanced between Peter Quill and Phil, sensing the tension in the room. "I should leave now. I have other matters to attend to."
Peter Quill glanced at me, his skepticism clear in his expression, but he stayed silent. I gave him a nod as I turned to leave.
"Goodbye, Peter," I said, offering a parting gesture of respect. "If you ever need my help, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be there."
Peter Quill managed a hesitant response. "Oh, okay."
Turning to Phil one last time, I nodded. "See you, Phil."
Phil looked apologetic as I made my way out of the room. "Sorry, Spider-Man. I'm really sorry."
"It's fine, Phil,'" I reassured him with a small smile, acknowledging his apology.
Phil Coulson nodded gratefully, clearly relieved that I wasn't upset with him. "Thank you, Spider-Man. I appreciate your understanding."
With a nod to both Phil and Peter Quill, I turned and walked out of the room. As I left, I couldn't shake the feeling that Peter Quill's cautious attitude towards me wasn't entirely unjustified. If I were in his position, facing someone claiming to be from another universe and offering help, I would likely feel just as skeptical.
Exiting the room, I took a moment to gather my thoughts. The encounter with Peter Quill had been unexpected, but I had other responsibilities demanding my attention. As Spider-Man, there were always challenges to face and people to help, even if not everyone was ready to accept my aid.
...
Meanwhile
On the rooftop of the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Director Loe Halloway puffed on a cigarette, sharing a smoke with his old friend, Chris Hilton. The morning sun cast a warm glow over the city, providing a brief moment of respite from their respective responsibilities.
"What's going on, Loe?" Chris asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke that mingled with the fresh morning air.
"Nothing... Just tired from all the work," Loe replied, his voice tinged with weariness and a hint of frustration. The weight of his duties as director often felt like an endless burden.
Chris sighed, a sympathetic look crossing his face. "You should take a break, man. Look at me, I retired, and now my life is smooth. I even have a date with a beautiful woman."
Loe raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh? What's her name?"
"Angel O'Hara," Chris said with a smile, his eyes lighting up at the mention of her.
"Angel O'Hara?" Loe echoed, the name triggering a faint memory.
"Yep, and she's beautiful, I tell you," Chris affirmed, his enthusiasm palpable.
Loe's eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to place the name. "I think I've heard that name before..."
Chris nodded, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Oh, right, she's the widow who was accused of killing her husband."
"Yeah, that girl... So you like her despite her background?" Loe asked, a mix of concern and intrigue in his tone.
"Well, at first, I was skeptical," Chris admitted. "But after meeting her, talking to her, and getting to know her, I realized she's not what the rumors say. She's different... like a delicate woman, almost like a princess from a historical movie in the way she talks and her manners."
Loe chuckled, shaking his head. "That's interesting. Well, good luck with your relationship."
"Thanks," Chris said, smiling warmly.
What Chris didn't know was that the woman he was dating wasn't really Angel O'Hara. It was Lilith, the daughter of Dracula. After Angel killed her husband out of fear of her father's reaction to her relationship, Lilith had possessed Angel's body.
As they continued to chat, the morning sun climbed higher, casting longer shadows across the rooftop. Loe couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. "Chris, just be careful, okay? Sometimes people aren't what they seem."
Chris laughed, a light-hearted sound that echoed across the rooftop. "You worry too much, Loe. But I'll keep that in mind."
.......
[Meanwhille on another Universe]
Rocket paced back and forth, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings nervously. "Where the hell is Quill? He's got the Power Stone, and we're sitting ducks here!"
Gamora sighed, her expression tense. "I don't know where he went off to. He said something about a quick supply run, but that was hours ago."
Drax grumbled, his massive form shifting impatiently. "Why are we hiding? We should confront Ronan and end this once and for all!"
Rocket shot Drax a sharp look. "Because, you big oaf, Ronan would squash us like bugs! We need a plan."
Drax bristled, his anger evident. "I do not fear Ronan. I fear nothing!"
Gamora stepped between them, her voice firm. "Enough! Bickering won't solve anything. Rocket's right. We need to find Quill and figure out our next move."
Groot, usually the calmest among them, spoke up urgently. "I am Groot!" His tone was worried, urging them to stop arguing and focus on the bigger threat looming over them.
Rocket glanced around, assessing their options. "Alright, let's split up. Gamora and I will search the perimeter. Drax, you take the north side. Groot, stay here and keep watch. Quill can't be far."
Drax grunted in agreement, still looking annoyed but willing to cooperate. Gamora nodded, her hand resting on her blaster. "Let's move. We don't have much time."
As they dispersed, each member of the Guardians of the Galaxy knew that their next actions could determine the fate of not just their own universe, but potentially countless others. With Ronan and his forces closing in, they had to find Quill and the Power Stone before it fell into the wrong hands.
......
Thanos, seated upon his imposing throne aboard his vast spaceship, gazed out into the emptiness of space with an air of contemplation. His eyes, as deep and vast as the universe itself, held a silent intensity that belied the chaos unfolding around him.
"Glaive," Thanos intoned in his resonant voice, his gaze shifting to his trusted man, Corvus Glaive, leader of the Black Order. "How many Stones have we acquired?"
Corvus Glaive, standing with unwavering loyalty before his master, spoke with a hint of deference in his tone. "Only two, my lord," he replied with measured respect. "The Space Stone and the Mind Stone are in our possession."
Thanos's expression darkened slightly, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features. "Only two," he muttered under his breath, his massive hand idly stroking the armrest of his throne. His ambitions were vast, and acquiring all the Infinity Stones was crucial to achieving his ultimate goal.
Turning his gaze back to the endless expanse of space before him, Thanos muttered under his breath, as if speaking not just to himself but to the cosmos itself, "I hope you won't disappoint me, Ronan."
The End of Missing Week
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