The golden rays of the sun bathed the imposing towers of Latveria in a warm glow, casting long shadows over the fortress where Peter Parker stood, clad in a dark, regal cloak that fluttered slightly in the morning breeze. The air was crisp, charged with arcane energy, today was the culmination of months of grueling training under Victor von Doom.
Peter exhaled, rolling his shoulders before turning his head slightly. Then, with an exasperated sigh, he faced the readers directly, breaking the fourth wall with the same ease he would break an enemy's jaw.
"Alright, I know what you're thinking, 'Wait a minute, how the hell is it suddenly several months later? Last chapter, you were just learning the basics!'" He waved a hand dismissively. "Well, allow me to explain... or, rather, allow me to not explain because, frankly, the guy writing this is lazy, and thanks to a bullshit test he had to take for school, he forgot his train of thought. And, let's be real, he doesn't feel like writing a series of tedious training chapters."
Peter folded his arms and shook his head. "So, let's just all collectively agree that during the time you weren't reading, I was training. Like, really intense, hardcore, borderline traumatizing training. Okay? Okay. Don't overthink it."
He smirked. "Alright, back to the actual story."
He turned away from the imaginary camera, cracking his knuckles as he faced the towering, armored figure of Doctor Doom, who stood at the center of an ancient summoning circle, waiting for his pupil's final test.
The room rumbled with ancient energy, engraved runes glowing red-hot beneath Peter's feet. Doom stood opposite him, his green cloak billowing as if the air itself dared not touch him. The chamber was circular, a vast arena where magic warped space and gravity obeyed no law. This was where gods would dare not tread. And now, a student would challenge his master.
Doom raised one gauntlet, the metal fingers curling inward. "No more lessons. No more theory. Today, we see if you are ready."
Peter narrowed his eyes, his fingers pulsing with violet-red energy. "Hope you stretched, old man."
Then—
The world exploded into magic.
Doom struck first, thrusting his arm forward. A beam of hellfire and reality-warping chaos erupted from his palm, tearing across the chamber like a god's whip. Peter twirled his fingers in a rapid sigil, "Invisibilia et Umbra." He vanished in a puff of shadow, reappearing behind Doom mid-air.
"Boo."
He flung a chain of binding wards, glowing like molten steel. Doom spun with inhuman speed, his cloak whipping around to deflect the wards as if it had a will of its own. Sparks flew. The bindings shattered like glass.
"You'll have to be smarter than that, Parker."
Peter's grin was feral. "You taught me to be."
He slammed his palms into the ground, and a forest of spectral webs burst from beneath him, glowing blue and ethereal, like spider silk spun from pure mana. The webs lunged at Doom from every angle, hissing with contained spells: freezing curses, entropy curses, even an embarrassment jinx for good measure.
Doom snarled. He lifted his arms skyward, chanting in a deep, guttural tone that shook the bones. A protective dome erupted around him, solid obsidian layered with reflective runes. The webs struck, and each one exploded with arcane fury, sending shockwaves through the room.
Peter leaped forward through the debris, already hurling a barrage of enchanted orbs, miniature singularities he'd learned to compress, taught by Doom himself under threat of instant implosion.
Doom retaliated by clapping his hands, creating a temporal distortion bubble. The orbs slowed mid-air, their momentum warped.
Peter twisted his fingers, "Velox Tempus!", and slammed his own spell into Doom's. Time snapped back like a rubber band. The orbs rushed forward, faster than ever.
Doom ducked, yes, ducked, as one orb shot past his mask, scraping it with a hiss of melted magic.
"Impressive," Doom growled, rising from the smoke. "Let me show you why I am Doom."
He stomped down and shattered the floor. Runes flared beneath Peter's feet, summoning circles, ancient and angry.
Then the monsters came.
Demonic wolves with silver skin and mouths full of teeth. Elemental spirits riding gusts of wind. A giant hand made of bone and screams. They rushed Peter with a sound like breaking sanity.
Peter whispered, "Alright... let's do this."
He closed his eyes, clenched his fists... and his aura erupted.
A spider-shaped burst of energy, wrapped in black and red, surged outward. He summoned a magic cloak forged from woven memories, wrapped himself in a spell that whispered his name across realities, and unleashed a swarm of phantom spiders, each one imbued with anti-demonic runes.
The room screamed.
Peter dodged and weaved, teleporting with pin-point sigils, using mirrored versions of himself to confuse the demons. One wolf lunged at him, he ducked and shoved a charged spell into its chest, "Shatter the soul." It exploded into ash.
He jumped atop the elemental, reversed its polarity, and sent it spinning back into Doom's line. Doom barely raised a shield in time as it crashed.
Doom scowled. "You dare use my own constructs against me?"
Peter responded by flying forward, spinning mid-air, and conjuring dozens of red-hot sigils around him like orbiting moons. With a single motion, he launched them like missiles. Doom raised both arms, the runes on his armor glowing.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Flashes of every color lit the room. Pieces of stone cracked and floated. The veil between realities trembled.
Peter and Doom clashed in the center of the arena, fists meeting with shockwaves of raw magic. Every punch was laced with enchantments, every kick carried the weight of ancient spells. They parried with swords made from condensed thought, countered with illusions so intricate that even gods would be fooled.
Peter opened his hand and summoned a staff, black, sleek, inscribed with spider runes. Doom raised a trident made of Latverian steel and bound ghosts. The two dueled, spinning and clashing in mid-air, fire and lightning cracking around them.
Peter ducked low, whispered, "Arachnus Ultima."
Suddenly, the entire room was flooded with a colossal spider construct, towering above both of them, limbs etched with spells from Peter's own blood. It lunged.
Doom didn't flinch.
"Annihila Dominae."
A massive dragon-shaped spirit, made from compressed centuries of rage and pain, devoured the spider in one bite, roaring in triumph.
Peter crashed to the ground, rolling. His lip bled, eyes wide. "Okay... that was cool."
Doom landed, his armor scorched, his mask cracked slightly.
He looked at Peter, his voice lower. "You are ready."
Peter blinked, sweat dripping from his brow. "Wait... what?"
"You've survived this far. Matched me. Impressed me." Doom straightened. "There is no more to teach. The final lesson was survival... and you passed."
Peter groaned and flopped on his back. "Next time... can we just do a written exam?"
Doom stared down at him. "That was the written exam. In Latverian terms."
Peter coughed, laughing. "Oh man... I think I need a vacation."
Doom turned, his cape swaying dramatically. "Then take one. You've earned it. The world, Parker... is not ready for what comes next. But you might be."
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