Fragments of Tomorrow
Peter’s eyes fluttered open to the low hum of advanced machinery, his senses bombarded by the sterile chill of the unfamiliar room. Sleek lines, polished metals, and soft automated lights surrounded him. The disorienting sense that this could all be a dream—the portal, the future, Tony Stark’s cryptic warnings—faded as reality set in. This wasn’t 2003.
He sat up slowly, wincing as his muscles screamed from the toll of their last battle. The fight felt like a lifetime ago, but the strain in his body remained. His mind spun, trying to make sense of the impossible: We’re in 2024? It was too much to grasp. They had gone from being high schoolers on patrol to waking up decades into the future in a version of New York they no longer recognized.
A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. “Peter?” Gwen’s voice was tentative, fragile in its uncertainty. “You awake?”
Peter moved to the door and opened it. Gwen stood in front of him, her expression a perfect reflection of the turmoil swirling inside him. Her blonde hair was tousled, and her eyes, usually so sharp and focused, held a weight of exhaustion and confusion.
“You okay?” she asked, stepping inside the room.
“Yeah… I think so.” He gestured vaguely, the surreal reality too overwhelming to put into words. “You?”
She offered a small nod, though her rigid posture gave away her unease. “Is this really happening? Are we actually… here? In the future?”
Peter’s eyes drifted to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The New York skyline that stretched beyond the glass was familiar, yet strange. It was taller, brighter, and impossibly advanced. “Yeah, Gwen. It’s real.”
For a long moment, they stood in silence, staring out at the city they no longer knew. Then, Gwen’s voice wavered as she whispered, “My dad… he must think I’m dead. And Aunt May, Uncle Ben… Peter, we’ve been gone for twenty years.”
The thought hit Peter like a freight train. Aunt May—was she even alive? He swallowed hard, the weight of those lost years pressing down on him. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised, though the words rang hollow. “We always do.”
Gwen bit her lip, clearly unconvinced, but she nodded all the same. “We need to talk to Tony. He has to know more.”
Tony Stark found them quickly, his usual bravado replaced by a rare, solemn expression as he guided them into a sleek conference room. Holographic displays lined the walls, projecting maps, tactical data, and global alerts. Peter and Gwen felt small—like relics of a simpler time—amid the overwhelming sophistication.
Tony leaned back in his chair, studying them. “Alright, I know this is a lot to take in, but I need you two to keep it together.”
“Keep it together?” Gwen’s voice trembled as her composure cracked. “We just got thrown decades into the future, Tony! How are we supposed to be calm?”
Tony held up a hand, his expression softening. “I get it. You’ve got every right to freak out. But listen… there are answers. Not all of them yet, but enough to help you understand.”
Peter crossed his arms, trying to anchor himself. “How did this happen? Was it the portal?”
Tony nodded, his eyes darkening. “Yeah. A rift in the space-time continuum. We’ve been tracking strange anomalies for months now, but none of them have displaced anyone—until you two.”
Gwen frowned, leaning forward. “So we’re stuck here?”
“For now,” Tony admitted. “We’re working on it. But time’s not a straight line, and messing with it comes with a lot of risks. We can’t just force it.”
Peter’s heart sank. “And… our future selves? Are they… here?”
Tony sighed, clearly anticipating this question. “They are. You—both of you—are out there somewhere right now. The versions of you I know have been Avengers for years. You’re legends, honestly.”
Gwen blanched. “Legends? But we… we’re not ready for that.”
“I know,” Tony said softly. “But we’re going to fix it. I promise.”
Afterward, Tony took them to a massive training room—a cross between a tech lab and a battleground. As the doors slid open, familiar faces greeted them: Sam Wilson, now wielding Captain America’s shield, and T’Challa, regal as ever in his Black Panther suit. Even Rhodey was there, suited up in a new War Machine armor.
Rhodey’s smirk broke the tension. “Look who’s back from the past. Thought you two were gone for good.”
Peter and Gwen exchanged awkward smiles, the reality of being surrounded by these larger-than-life figures intensifying their sense of being out of place. The Avengers were more than heroes now—they were legends. And Peter and Gwen, despite their shared talents, couldn’t shake the feeling of being rookies thrown into an impossible situation.
Training was grueling. Though Peter and Gwen were still agile and quick, they lagged behind the team, who had spent years honing their skills. They did their best to keep up, but the technology, the tactics—everything had evolved. Gwen’s frustration grew, and Peter could feel his own mounting as he struggled to adjust.
Later that night, they found themselves on the balcony, the sprawling city bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun. Gwen leaned against the railing, her head resting against Peter’s shoulder. “It’s like I don’t belong here,” she whispered.
Peter didn’t know how to respond. He felt the same way—disconnected from this future world, despite everything Tony had told them. “I miss home,” he admitted quietly.
Gwen took his hand, gripping it tightly. “Do you think we’ll ever get back?”
Peter glanced at her, eyes filled with uncertainty. “We’ll find a way. We always do.”
As the city lights blinked on, Peter couldn’t shake a growing suspicion. The portal, the time rift—it had felt deliberate, not random. What if someone had sent them here for a reason?
Whatever the case, Peter knew this was just the beginning of something much bigger. And whatever it was, they would face it together.