Andrew Parker's lanky frame found comfort against the cool, weathered metal of the Statue of Captain American Liberty, boredom etched upon his features. suddenly a light-hearted smile stealthily danced across his lips. 

"Do you guys wanna know about my new invention?"

A smooth chuckle escaped Tom Parker's lips.

"Lemme guess it's 'Your Mama's So Big, She Has Her Own Gravitational Pull' device."

Andrew shot a tired glance at Tom, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

"Seriously? Your mama jokes, Peter 3? Alright, here's one for you: Your mama is so old, her first web shooter used actual spiders!"

Tobey interjected, a grin forming as he tried to defuse the situation. 

"Guys... we share the same mama." He then paused for a moment before speaking mischievously. "Our mama is so graceful, she moonwalks better than Michael Jackson!"

Andrew chuckled softly, shaking his head in response.

"Our mama is so talented, she painted a perfect replica of the Mona Lisa."

Tom joined in, laughing as they complimented their 'same' mothers.

"Our mama is so creative, she designed Mysterio's illusions for him!"

Tobey's smile adorned his face, his words carrying a sense of daring akin to stepping onto a cliff with nothing but a metaphorical blindfold.

"Our mama's so scary, even the Green Goblin runs away from he-

Abruptly, he fell silent, a hush settling over the group as their throats tightened in anticipation. Tom stared at him, as he spoke in a low volume.

"You raised...a flag."

*Tink.*

In the distance, a faint tinkling of a bouncing ball echoed, each reverberation a note of suspense that hung in the air.

*bbbbBBBBB00000OOOOMM!*

Debris clashed and scattered in every direction, a cacophony of destruction that served as a backdrop to the awe-inspiring sight. 

With a seamless synchronization, the trio of Spider-Men vaulted into the air, their lithe forms swinging gracefully from the yellow construction tower

"Can the Spiderman, come out to play~?"

Amid the scene, several pumpkin bombs, suspended like malevolent specters in the atmosphere. 

A verdant figure streaked by in a blur of motion, a sinister chuckle resonating through the very fabric of the surroundings. 

Tobey's gaze fixated upon the swung with a chilling amalgamation of terror and familiarity etched across his features, a silent acknowledgment of the impending danger.

In a swift reaction, Dr. Octopus orchestrated a graceful maneuver, his mechanical tentacles whirling into action to deflect the airborne pumpkin bombs. 

Yet, in a cunning twist of fate, the diversion masked a deeper ploy. Unbeknownst to the trio, this spectacle was merely a ruse, serving as a smokescreen for the Green Goblin's sinister intent. 

Swift as the wind, the Goblin seized the Machine du Kadavus, a mystical cube brimming with the power to ensnare spells within its ancient confines.

The Green Goblin's laughter echoed through the air, a chilling symphony of malevolence. His glider ascended in a graceful arc, slicing through the atmosphere with a calculated elegance. 

However, just as his sinister flight reached its peak, an unexpected twist of fate intervened. An orange lasso, latched onto the coveted cube, yanking it from the Goblin's grasp.

Dr. Strange exuded an air of composure, his presence a testament to his posed coolness as he held the cube in close hovering proximity. His intent was clear, to push the button to send the interdimensional visitors to their rightful realities.

*Tink.*

A sudden low reverberation resonated through the air, the source of which became evident as a pumpkin bomb hidden within the chamber revealed itself. 

A sinister undercurrent ran through everyone's spines upon this unexpected intrusion – the Green Goblin's calculated foresight had anticipated this very twist, using it to further fuel his crooked agenda of sowing the seeds of chaos.

The eyes of the nearby heroes and Dr Strange widened as they realized what had just happened and before they could escape or scream-

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!!*

-a heart-stopping explosion erupted in their midst, the shockwave of destruction cascading like an unforgiving tide.

In an infernal symphony of chaos, debris, and billowing smoke mingled with the vivid flames of emerald, as the very atmosphere seemed to convulse. 

Amidst this maelstrom, Captain America's shield descended with a weighty grace. Within this upheaval, Michelle Jones found herself falling to the ground.

Without any hesitation, Andrew Parker propelled himself into the air but as his outstretched arms neared Michelle's plummeting form, a brilliant bolt of violet energy streaked forth, snatching her from the jaws of certain doom and cradling her in an embrace.

Breathless and disoriented, Michelle's chest heaved as she locked eyes with her unexpected savior. Around him, wisps of violet lightning danced like ethereal wraiths, casting an otherworldly halo... and constantly shocking her body.

"Ouch... ouch...OUCH!"

Michelle struggled in his embrace and twirled around, lifting her head to look at the person who saved and was torturing her. A whisper escaped her mouth subconsciously as she looked at the visage in front of her eyes.

"Evil Parker?"

A soft chuckle escaped Peter's lips, a gentle shake of his head accompanying his gaze as if looking at a toy, regarding it with amusement.

"That's what you call me mon chou? After I worked so hard to save your ass from dying? You deserve to fall."

Releasing his grip, he allowed the woman to descend to the ground with a faint thud. She regained her footing, brushing off her attire with an air of casual grace that barely concealed her evident irritation. 

Meeting Peter's gaze, her expression wavered between annoyance, hatred, and curiosity, a blend of emotions that danced upon her features.

"That hurt," 

However, her demeanor underwent a noticeable transformation upon setting her gaze upon the woman steadfastly clinging to Peter's back.

Aunt May clung to Peter, her thighs wrapped around his waist, and her upper body pressed against his back rather erotically.

MJ's astonished gaze fixed upon her and despite the evident discomfort, she managed to whisper, 

"This must be the afterlife." 

She stood there frozen with a wry half-smile graced her lips as she pinched her cheeks despite the pain, 

"Yep it is, I am definitely dead."

Aunt May's sudden laughter filled the air as Peter finally released her from his back. Making her way towards Michelle, she enveloped her in a warm embrace as she leaned in, playfully whispered into Michelle's ear, 

"...looks like we've got front-row seats in hell."

A wave of horror washed over Michelle's features as she gazed at May, her eyes wide and disbelieving before recovering from her initial shock and shot back.

"Well, as long as they have good Wi-Fi, I guess I can survive."

 Meanwhile, Peter's gaze shifted, locking onto another version of himself situated a few meters away that was opening his palms and closing them in sadness but not without a small smile seeing that Michelle was alive.

Approaching him, Peter placed a consoling hand on Andrew Parker's back, his gaze a mirror of profound sorrow that needed no words to convey its depth.

"I forgot, yours is no longer with us. Mon mauvais mon chou," he offered in a mix of remorse and levity. "If it brings any comfort, mine is very much alive, and... dare I say, more alluring."

Andrew's gaze remained fixed upon the man who stood before him, an individual clad in the regal attire of a noble. 

The intricate ensemble featured a refined suit paired with robes adorned in shades of black and dark turquoise, a juxtaposition that exuded both elegance and gravitas. Grey trousers seamlessly merged with sleek high boots, completing the ensemble with a touch of sophistication.

Crowning his visage was a long, pointed, and slightly askew magician's hat, a broad forehead and fair skin framed his countenance, while a thin face hosted semi-curled brown hair that added a touch of charm. 

Dangling gracefully over his right eye was a crystal monocle

Andrew's gaze swept up and down, his impression deepening as he observed the man before him. He momentarily disregarded the offensive words, absorbing the enigmatic yet cheerful aura and appearance that emanated from him.

He leaned in, his ear drawn closer as he spoke. "Uh, I'm sorry... do I, like, know you?"

Peter nudged his monocle, a faint smile playing on his lips. As he spoke, there was a sense of amusement in his voice. 

"Non, mon chou, but you can refer to me as... The Lover."