once, you breathe (oblivion, it follows)

dust in my hands, slowly i weep

From across the battlefield, wrecked with sounds of weapons and chaos, his eyes meet Tony's.

Peter sees the resignation in those eyes, a weariness that weighs him down as a cold determination flits across his gaze. His face twists, morphing into something entirely raw and powerful.

Then, his arm raises. A gauntlet of nanotech forms, the stones beginning to embed into cold metal.

And Peter remembers Dr Strange's words, sees the way he lifts a single, trembling finger; a symbol of the end.

(it was the only way.)

Slowly, Tony stands, shaky yet no less regal, as the battles around him send showers of debris toward his looming figure, forming a halo of cinder and dust around him.

He looked almost like a fallen angel; eyes hard and fixed forward, armour crumbling and ready for death.

With a gauntlet on his arm, and a fury in his eyes, Tony Stark seemed untouchable.

And yet, amidst the destruction and chaos around him, Peter feels only numbness; a liberating sense of calm that washes over him like a cool spring breeze.

He swallows, shaking, heart dropping at the realisation he makes.

I cannot let Tony die.

"Karen." so he says instead. "You... You said that Mr Stark's nanotech suit was designed so that it could transfer parts of the armour to me? In case of emergencies?"

"Of course, Peter."

And Peter breathes, the last of his hesitation escaping through his lungs with another breath in, and then another breath out.

In the end, it seemed that even the odds were in his favour.

"Transfer the gauntlet over to me, then."

"Peter, are you sure? To snap would mean-"

"Please."

(in 14, 000, 605 realities, in how many of them do we win?)

He closes his eyes, tries to be brave, tries to pretend that he isn't terrified.

Inhale, exhale.

He lets the terror escape, too.

(one.)

And Karen complies.

It happens in a split second.

The gauntlet forms, stones shimmering with absolute power, dimming the rest of the world in comparison.

Peter ignores the way he hears Tony's breathing hitch, ignores the way the glimmer of the stones only bring him dread.

He breathes, and ash fills his lungs as he raises a single arm. It suffocates, its vice-grip tightening as he curls his fingers in.

And then, swiftly—

(the world still needs ironman.)

He snaps.

(and i will make a reality that you never foresaw.)

An electric current surges through him in an instant, a supernova of emotion and pain coursing from the nanotech on his arm to the rest of his body.

It burns like liquid fire, acid in his veins as he screams, vision turning stark white.

Everything stops.

The world stills and silences, watching his illuminated form, power in his words as he wishes for the battle to stop.

For a moment, he wields the power of the gods.