Archive of Our Own

Harlem is in ruins. Buildings collapse into the streets, fire crawling up their sides as thick smoke chokes the sky. Sirens wail in the distance, barely cutting through the chaos.
A news reporter stands in the middle of it all, her voice shaky but determined as the camera struggles to stay steady.
“It is crazy out here, Phil,” she says, glancing around at the destruction. “There are bodies and debris everywhere. The invaders, whatever they are, seem to be coming straight from hell.”
Behind her, a massive explosion sends dust and ash into the air.
“Look, Captain America and Daredevil, they’re fighting what appear to be… demons.” She hesitates, like she can’t fully believe what she’s saying. “Luke Cage is in critical condition. And we have unconfirmed reports that Spider-Man and an unknown woman are missing in action.”
The feed cuts.

Doctor Strange hovers above the battlefield, cloak snapping behind him as he moves through the smoke-filled air. Beside him, Ghost Rider tears through the chaos like something unleashed.
A hell-beast lunges.
Strange forms a spinning, glowing construct in his hands, a razor-edged disk of magic, and hurls it forward. It slices clean through the creature, dispersing it into ash.
Ghost Rider’s chains whip out, wrapping around another beast. Flames surge along the metal as he yanks it closer, the fire consuming it instantly.
“We need them, Rider,” Strange says, his voice strained as he traps another creature inside the Mirror Dimension, the world fracturing around it like shattered glass.
Ghost Rider tilts his flaming skull slightly. “I’m beginning to think so,” he replies, his voice low, like it’s being dragged out of something far darker than a human throat.
With a sharp motion, he swings his chains again, tearing open a burning rift, a hellish void. He kicks a beast straight into it, the creature vanishing into the flames.
Without hesitation, Ghost Rider jumps in after it, disappearing into the pit.
Strange watches for a brief moment.
“I hope they work together,” he mutters.
Then he rises higher into the air, hands weaving intricate patterns as he begins to chant. Energy gathers around him
and a blinding burst of light erupts outward.
UNKNOWN REALM — THE ABBEY
It is peaceful. Warm. Beautiful.
A place untouched by the chaos of the world.
Then a hole from hell rips open in the sky.
Flames tear through the air as Ghost Rider bursts out of it on his bike, a black Harley-Davidson Panhead. The wheels burn with hellfire, spinning like molten rings. A metallic skull sits at the front, fire pouring from its hollow eyes.
He hits the ground hard, skidding across the stone.
The flames die down.
The bike cools. The fire vanishes.
Johnny Blaze stands where the Rider was, the heat fading from his body as he takes in his surroundings.
For a moment, he just looks.
The Abbey stands tall in the distance, almost glowing in the soft light. Calm. Sacred.
Untouched.
A woman approaches him from the cathedral, her walk sharp and deliberate. Her face is aged, stern, and already irritated.
“Blaze,” she says coldly. “You’re not welcome here.”
Johnny exhales, brushing his long hair back. “Still holding that against me, Sarah?”
Her expression tightens. “It’s Caretaker to you. You nearly burned the entire Abbey, seeing how hot you could get.”
Johnny doesn’t argue.
“I didn’t come here for forgiveness,” he says. “I need help. I need the Midnight Suns.”
That stops her.
Her eyes widen slightly, the weight of those words settling in.
“The prophecy…” she murmurs, taking a small step back.
“I need Blade,” Johnny continues, “and… Wanda, if you can find her.”
“What about Moon Knight?” she asks.
“Khonshu already brought him back,” Johnny replies. “He’s out there fighting.”
Caretaker turns immediately, urgency replacing her irritation as she heads for the cathedral doors.
Johnny watches her go.
“If Wanda doesn’t want to fight…” he calls after her. “After Xavier’s School… tell her her friend Johnny needs her.”
Smoke begins to rise from his body.
His skin starts to peel away
and the Rider takes over.
The flames return, consuming him as the skull emerges once more.
He walks back toward his bike.
Caretaker pauses at the entrance, glancing over her shoulder. “I will, Johnny.”
He nods once.
For a brief moment, his flames burn blue.
Then they snap back to orange.
Ghost Rider mounts his bike, revving the engine as fire builds again beneath him.
The portal to hell reopens, and he drives straight into it.
HARLEM
Moon Knight moves through the wreckage like a ghost.
A demon lunges.
He pivots, sweeping its legs out from under it with his staff. In the same motion, he drives a crescent blade down into its skull. The creature collapses into ash.
“You could’ve just stepped on its head,” a voice says.
Moon Knight doesn’t look over.
Behind him stands Khonshu, a towering, skeletal bird wrapped in aged mummy cloth, his presence silent, unnatural.
“Be quiet, Khonshu,” Moon Knight mutters.
“Oh, Jake… hello,” Khonshu replies calmly.
No response.
A scream cuts through the chaos.
Moon Knight is already moving.
He sprints through the ruined streets, weaving past burning cars and shattered concrete. Khonshu follows effortlessly, reappearing beside him again and again without a sound, like he was always there.
“You were always the… hm, what’s the word?” Khonshu muses. “Ah, yes, crazy. But useful.”
“We’re all a little crazy,” Moon Knight says, not slowing.
Khonshu tilts his head slightly. “Oh. Hello, Marc.”
Moon Knight drops to one knee beside a pile of debris. A woman is trapped beneath it, barely conscious.
He lifts the rubble off her with a grunt, pulling her free.
Khonshu gives her a small wave.
She doesn’t react. She can’t see him.
“You were always my favorite,” Khonshu continues. “Caring, but not too caring. Violent, but not too violent.”
Moon Knight stands, steadying the woman.
“You say that to all of us,” he says. “Me, Steven… Jake.”
Khonshu almost smiles. “But you’re the only one who listens.”
He stops.
A hole tears open in the air in front of them, flames spilling out.
Ghost Rider explodes through it on his bike.
Moon Knight turns, and Khonshu is gone.
Ghost Rider slows, stepping off his bike as the fire dims slightly around him. His chains coil and shift, moving like living things.
“You’re the only one who can scare Khonshu away,” Moon Knight says.
Ghost Rider’s skull tilts slightly. “We’ve got incoming. Blade should be here soon.”
“And Wanda?” Moon Knight asks.
Ghost Rider looks out over the burning city.
“I hope she sees that we need her.”
“And the kid… and Illyana?” Moon Knight presses.
Ghost Rider doesn’t answer right away.
“I hope they’re alive,” he says quietly. “Peter has the strength of a god. He may not know it… but I can feel it.”
His chains ignite, hellfire crawling along the metal as he tightens his grip.
“If Peter dies before he becomes who he’s meant to be… we’re all dead.”
Ghost Rider’s voice is low. Certain.
Demon imps screech as they charge.
His chains ignite, and the fight surges forward.

A nearby building lies in ruins.
Search and rescue crews dig through the wreckage, moving carefully as chunks of concrete are lifted and shifted. Around them, heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stand guard, scanning the perimeter.
“Site Nine, no survivors,” a man radios, exhaustion heavy in his voice. “This is getting harder.”
He steps down from the rubble, wiping sweat and dust from his face.
“Send a trauma team to Site Ten, then,” Nick Fury responds over the comms, calm but firm.
“Copy. Trauma Team Six, head to Site Ten. Trauma Team Seven, hold position, just in case.”
The man lowers the radio, shoulders slumping slightly.
A brick shifts.
Another.
Slowly, the debris begins to move on its own.
Everyone turns.
S.H.I.E.L.D. agents raise their weapons, aiming at the shifting pile.
The rubble lifts, just enough for a figure to push through.
“Help him, now!” the man shouts, rushing forward.
They pull the debris away piece by piece.
Red.
Blue.
Torn fabric.
“...Spider-Man.”
He’s barely standing.
His suit is shredded, one arm completely exposed. His mask is ripped, one lens cracked, the other gone entirely. Dust and blood streak across what’s left.
He coughs, trying to steady himself.
“Where’s Illyana…?” Spider-Man asks, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.
“We don’t know,” the man answers, helping guide him onto a stretcher.
Spider-Man leans back for a second
“What?” he mutters as medics begin checking him over.
A woman scans him quickly, confusion crossing her face. “He has no internal injuries… somehow.”
“May… I need to get home,” Peter says, pushing himself up.
“Lay back down,” the man insists. “You could still have broken bones; we haven’t even done an X-ray.”
“No time,” Peter says, forcing himself upright. “I need to get home… I need to find Illyana.”
He stumbles.
Drops to one knee, gripping his side.
“You survived injuries no one should walk away from,” the man says, kneeling beside him. “We need to check you out.”
“I’m fine,” Peter says, standing again, even as he limps. “You can check me after I find them.”
No one stops him.
They just watch as he walks away, broken, but still moving.
The doctor exhales, shaking her head slightly.
“His durability…” she says quietly. “It’s something else.”
Spider-Man limps forward.
One step at a time.
Then another.
He picks up speed, slowly at first. A walk becomes a speed walk. A speed walk turns into a jog.
Then a weak run.
His body screams at him to stop.
He doesn’t.
He leaps, firing a webline with shaky precision, barely catching it as he swings forward. Every movement looks like it could be his last, but he holds on.
First May… then Harry… now Illyana.
His grip tightens.
He keeps moving.

Back in the streets, Moon Knight grips the metal pole sticking through his chest, a bent stop sign driven straight into him.
With a sharp pull, he yanks it free.
“I hate hellfire,” he says casually. “For some reason, it actually kills me. I’m glad this sign is normal.”
There’s no pain in his voice.
His suit begins to mend itself, fabric knitting back together as his skin heals beneath it.
Ghost Rider stands nearby, silent as ever, chains coiling slowly around his arms.
Moon Knight glances at him. “Good talk.”
Off in the distance, a lone demon imp stumbles away.
“I got this,” Moon Knight says, pulling a crescent blade from his belt.
He raises his arm
A glaive slices through the air.
The imp’s head is gone before it hits the ground.
A figure drops from above, catching the weapon cleanly.
“About time,” Ghost Rider says.
The man steps forward, buzz cut, goatee, brown skin. Red-tinted sunglasses hide his eyes. Black body armor sits beneath a long trench coat, with a katana sheathed across his back.
Blade.
“Nice of you to join us,” Moon Knight says.
“Yeah, I got Sarah’s call,” Blade replies, walking up beside them.
“She find Wanda?” Blade asks.
Ghost Rider shakes his head slightly. “No. But she will. We need her.”
Blade exhales. “Damn.”
He looks out over the ruined street.
“Then let’s move.”
The three of them head forward together, disappearing deeper into the chaos.
QUEENS — MAY’S HOUSE
The house feels too quiet.
Too still.
May sits on the couch, staring at the TV. Harry stands nearby, pacing, his phone gripped tightly in his hand. Nico leans against the wall, arms crossed, trying to stay calm, but failing.
“Peter’s still not answering,” Harry mutters, frustration building as he tosses his phone onto the couch.
“Neither is Illyana,” Nico adds, her voice low.
On the TV, the reporter continues, her voice tense as footage of the chaos plays behind her.
“We’re seeing more heroes arrive on the scene. Wolverine has been spotted, along with Iron Man. There are also reports of Doctor Strange fighting alongside Blade, Moon Knight, and a man whose skull is… on fire.”
The screen cuts to more destruction. Fire. Screaming. Smoke.
“We still have no confirmed sightings of Spider-Man…” the reporter continues, hesitating.
“I’m sorry to say this, New York… but Spider-Man… could be dead.”
The room goes silent.
May shuts the TV off.
She lowers her head into her hands, her shoulders shaking slightly as she fights back tears.
Harry immediately walks over. “He’s not dead, May,” he says firmly.
She looks up at him and pulls him into a hug.
“I know,” she whispers, holding on a little tighter.
Across the room, Nico quietly pulls back the blinds just enough to look outside.
In the distance, the Manhattan skyline burns.
Even from across the river, the glow of the fires lights up the sky.
“We’re safe,” Nico says softly. “We’re in Queens… across the river. Away from the city.”
It doesn’t sound convincing.
May slowly lets go of Harry and walks over to a small side table.
A framed photo sits there.
Ben.
Peter.
Peter is younger, laughing, sitting on Ben’s shoulders, holding up a small trophy from his fifth-grade science fair.
For a moment, May just looks at it.
Then, barely above a whisper
“You’ve always been stronger than you know, Peter.”
A sudden crash echoes from the backyard.
Metal clatters, like trash cans hitting the ground.
Everyone freezes.
“What was that?” Harry says, straightening up as he grabs a baseball bat from the corner.
“Do we open it?” Nico asks, her voice low.
May hesitates.
She wants to open the door.
But what if it’s a demon?
The doorknob turns.
Locked.
“What if it’s Peter?” May asks quietly.
No one answers.
No one knows what to say.
Harry tightens his grip on the bat. “If it’s not Peter, it’s getting a baseball bat-sized concussion.”
From the stairs, Gwen watches, barely breathing, hoping and praying it isn’t something worse.
The door bursts open.
Everyone jumps.
It’s Illyana.
She stumbles inside, exhausted. There’s a cut above her eye, dried blood streaking down her face. She looks like she barely made it.
“Oh my God, Illyana,” Nico says, rushing over to her.
“I’m fine… I’m fine,” Illyana insists, though she’s clearly not.
Harry slams the door shut and quickly barricades it.
Illyana leans against the counter, catching her breath.
May is already moving, grabbing a medical kit.
“Have you seen Peter?” she asks, handing her disinfectant.
Illyana looks up, her eyes fill with tears.
“No… I’m sorry,” she says. “We were thrown through buildings. He—he used his body to protect me.”
Her voice shakes.
“He left me there… said it was to keep me safe. He went to fight Mephisto… the devil.”
She swallows hard.
“I haven’t seen him since.”
May takes a step back, her legs nearly giving out.
Harry catches her before she falls.
“He’s alive,” Harry says quickly, almost forcing the words out. “I know it.”
Gwen slowly walks down the stairs, her confusion growing with every word.
“What do you mean… he fought the devil?” she asks.
Nico exhales under her breath. “Oh no… now she needs to know.”
May sinks onto the couch, tears slipping down her face.
“What do I need to know?” Gwen asks, looking between all of them.
Silence fills the room.
Then Harry speaks.
“As his best friend… and your boyfriend,” he says, steadying himself, “Peter… is Spider-Man.”
Gwen blinks.
“The nerd?” she says, almost in disbelief. “The one who keeps to himself… or just sticks with you guys?”
“Yes,” Illyana says softly.
Gwen looks between them, trying to process it.
Then she turns to Illyana.
“How do you even know where he lives?” Nico asks, narrowing her eyes slightly.
Illyana shrugs faintly, pressing a bandage over her cut.
“He told me,” she says. “Need to know.”
The back door slams open.
Peter stumbles inside.
His suit is torn to shreds, barely holding together. What’s left of his mask hangs loose, one side completely gone. Blood stains his side, dripping onto the floor as he struggles to stay upright.
“Shit, Peter,” Harry says, rushing forward and catching him before he falls.
May is already on her feet.
“Peter!?” she cries, running into the kitchen.
Illyana’s eyes widen. “You’re alive.”
She throws her arms around him, careful but desperate.
May joins her, pulling Peter into a tight embrace. Harry steadies him. Nico steps in close.
Gwen stays back.
Frozen.
Watching.
Peter… is Spider-Man.
Peter collapses.
“Peter!” May yells, dropping to her knees beside him.
“Shit,” Nico mutters, rushing over.
Illyana kneels too, grabbing his hand, gripping it tight.
He’s unconscious.
A dark pool of blood spreads beneath him.
May doesn’t hesitate.
She pulls at what’s left of the suit, exposing his side.
A deep gash, still bleeding.
“Grab me the medical kit!” she shouts.
Harry moves instantly, handing it to her.
Gwen backs up, shaken, watching it all unfold.
May grabs alcohol, quickly cleaning her hands before pouring it over the wound.
Peter’s body twitches slightly, even unconscious.
May works fast, focused.
“Harry, get the torch from the shed. Nico, knife,” she orders.
No hesitation.
Harry runs outside.
Nico grabs a knife and hands it to her.
May grips it, steady.
“Illyana, keep pressure on it.”
Illyana nods, pressing down firmly, her hands already stained with blood.
Seconds later, Harry bursts back in with a handheld torch.
May takes it, igniting the flame. She holds the blade over it.
Heating it, the metal glows orange.
Hot enough.
She turns back to Peter.
“Move.”
Illyana pulls her hands back.
May presses the heated blade into the wound.
Peter jerks awake.
A scream rips out of him.
“oh shit”
Illyana quickly pushes him down, holding him in place.
“Stay,” she says, firm but gentle.
The smell of burning flesh fills the room.
Peter goes limp again.
Unconscious.
May sets the blade aside and immediately begins stitching the wound, her hands steady despite everything.
Careful.
Precise.
Minutes pass.
She ties it off.
Done.
“Take him upstairs,” May says, her voice quieter now. “To his bed.”
Harry nods, lifting Peter carefully, making sure not to strain the injury as he carries him out of the kitchen.
Illyana follows close behind.
Nico lingers for a second, watching May clean the blood from her hands and tools.
“…How did you learn to do that?” she asks.
May doesn’t look up.
“I was a nurse once,” she says simply.
Nico nods slowly, then heads upstairs.
“I’m glad he’s okay,” she mutters. “He’ll push through.”
Upstairs, the house grows quiet again, but not calm.
HARLEM — FRONT LINES
Doctor Strange hovers above the shattered street, his cloak snapping behind him as he lifts chunks of debris with controlled waves of his hands.
Concrete rises.
Steel bends.
Civilians trapped beneath the rubble are pulled free, one by one.
Below him, Ghost Rider holds the line.
Demons rush forward.
His chains lash out, wrapping, burning, tearing through them in bursts of hellfire.
“ We need to find Mephisto,” Moon Knight says, cracking a demon across the skull with his staff before driving it back.
Nearby, Blade moves like a blur, precise, efficient, cutting through anything that gets close.
“We will,” Strange replies, his voice focused.
He raises his hands, energy building between his fingers.
“The Winds of Watoomb.”
A powerful gust erupts outward, lifting demons off their feet and hurling them down the street like weightless debris.
Strange lowers to the ground, scanning the chaos.
“It’s difficult to track him,” he says. “Even with magic. He’s moving too… expeditiously.”
Ghost Rider steps forward, flames flaring slightly.
“Then we burn everything.”
“No,” Strange says sharply. “We don’t.”
A low growl rumbles from Ghost Rider as he turns away, chains tightening in his grip.
Moon Knight glances around at the destruction, then casually adjusts himself.
His suit shifts and transforms.
Into a clean white tuxedo, completely out of place in the middle of hell on earth.
“It’s a tad bit crazy out here,” he remarks.
“Great,” Blade mutters, not looking back. “The soft one’s in control now.”
Moon Knight straightens slightly, his posture shifting with him.
“I’m not soft,” he replies, his British accent now clear and composed. “I’m actually quite skilled in hand-to-hand combat.”
Ghost Rider hurls a ball of hellfire over his shoulder without even turning.
A demon behind him erupts in flames.
“Steven… now’s not the time,” he says.
Moon Knight watches the creature burn, tilting his head slightly. “Yes… I suppose you’re right, creepy-looking demon.”
His suit ripples.
Then shifts back to its standard form.
“Alright, let’s go then,” he adds, rolling his shoulders. “Oh, and I’m Marc… for now.”
Above them, Doctor Strange moves quickly, scanning the battlefield as he speaks.
“If I can find Wanda, she may be able to amplify my magic, help me locate Mephisto.”
Ghost Rider’s chains coil tightly across his chest as he walks. “Good luck finding her,” he says. “Even I can’t.”
Blade doesn’t slow down.
He steps into a demon’s swing and cuts it clean in half.
Another lunges.
He takes its head off in one smooth motion.
“We need to move,” he says, voice sharp. “Now.”
No one argues.
The team falls in behind him, pushing deeper into the war-torn streets.
UNKNOWN REALM — THE CHAOS DIMENSION
The portal opens in a flash of blue and Caretaker steps into a world painted in crimson.
The sky burns. The air hums with unstable energy.
“Why are you here, Caretaker?”
The voice is distant. Heavy.
Sad.
Caretaker doesn’t hesitate. “I’m here for you, Wanda.”
A figure forms in front of her.
Scarlet Witch.
She stands in a red hoodie and jeans, her expression guarded.
“Why?” Wanda asks.
“Because I need you,” Caretaker says. “The world does.”
Wanda takes a step back.
“The last person who said that to me ended up in a wheelchair,” she says quietly. “I couldn’t control my magic. I almost destroyed Xavier’s School.”
Silence lingers for a moment.
“That’s exactly why we need you,” Caretaker replies. “I remember when you were ten, terrified of what you could do. You’re seventeen now. You’re stronger than me… stronger than your parents… stronger than Xavier ever imagined.”
Wanda looks down, conflicted.
“But I can’t control it,” she says again.
“You will,” Caretaker says firmly. “And right now… we might need a little chaos to beat chaos.”
Wanda looks up.
“What’s going on that you need me this badly?”
Crimson energy begins to swirl around her hand.
“The prophecy,” Caretaker answers.
Wanda goes still.
Thinking.
She raises her hand.
Snaps.
Her hoodie shifts into a red leather jacket. Black shirt. Black jeans.
“I’ll go.”

HARLEM — FRONT LINES
The battle rages.
Ghost Rider drives his fist through a demon, tearing its head clean off.
Moon Knight spins, cracking another across the skull with a brutal kick.
Blade moves through them like a storm, cutting multiple demons down in seconds, finishing one with a clean slash across the throat.
“Damned demons,” he mutters.
Above them, Doctor Strange opens a portal in front of a charging creature.
It dives through and falls from another portal high above, slamming into the street.
“They keep coming,” Strange says, scanning the battlefield.
His cloak detaches slightly, flying off to strike at a demon on its own.
A blue portal opens.
Wanda steps through.
It closes behind her.
She lifts her hand casually and wave of chaos magic pulses outward.
The charging demons turn into butterflies.
They scatter into the smoky air.
“Strange,” she says.
He glances over, allowing himself a small smile. “Nice to see you, Wanda.”
He hurls a mystic axe past her shoulder, taking down another demon mid-sentence.
She looks around at the others fighting.
“Putting the Midnight Suns back together?” she asks.
“Johnny did,” Strange replies. “But… yeah.”
“I see.”
Crimson energy wraps around her arm, pulsing as she releases it into the remaining demons.
The street goes quiet.
For now.
Ghost Rider walks toward her, flames flickering.
Orange…
Then briefly blue.
Wanda smirks slightly.
“Yeah,” she says. “I missed you too, teacher.”
The flames shift back to orange.
“I can’t track Mephisto,” Doctor Strange says, glancing at Wanda. “Can you amplify my magic so we can locate him?”
Wanda studies him for a second. “Maybe. It’ll take time… but it’s doable.”
Crimson chaos magic begins to swirl around her, building in intensity.
Strange raises his hand.
“Protect us.”
The Cloak of Levitation flutters in response, almost like a nod. Around them, the others tighten their formation.
Blade steps forward, cutting down a demon that lunges too close to Wanda.
The ground shakes.
A massive armored demon beast crashes into view.
Ghost Rider’s chains lash out, wrapping around it but the creature roars, yanking him forward and throwing him across the street.
“Get the damn thing!” Moon Knight shouts, already moving.
He leaps, staff and crescent blade striking fast but the attacks barely scratch the armor.
Blade rushes in, slicing across the creature’s plating.
It swings.
Blade is sent flying into a car, metal crumpling on impact.
Ghost Rider recovers, grabbing a wrecked car and hurling it at the beast. It slams into it, forcing it back a step.
Moon Knight follows up, driving a brutal kick into its face.
The creature stumbles.
Blade pushes off the wreckage, launching himself into the air, aiming for a killing strike.
The beast’s arm slams into him midair, knocking him away again.
They’re holding it off but just barely.
Blade steadies himself, eyes locking onto the creature.
Its neck.
Unarmored.
“This is gonna suck,” he mutters.
He sheathes his sword and takes off running.
Ghost Rider slams a flaming punch into the beast, forcing it to recoil.
Moon Knight strikes again, keeping its attention.
Blade leaps, landing on its back, right at the exposed neck.
He doesn’t hesitate.
His fangs sink in.
The beast roars, thrashing violently as Blade drains it, its movements growing weaker.
Slower.
It collapses.
Dead.
Blade pulls away, standing over it as he wipes his mouth, spitting to the side.
“…Doesn’t taste good,” he mutters.
Moon Knight tilts his head. “Good work, dhampir.”
Ghost Rider straightens, flames flickering as the tension eases slightly.
Blade walks back toward them, drawing his sword again.
“Guess we wait,” he says, glancing toward Strange and Wanda. “Until they’re done.”
PETER’S ROOM — QUEENS
Peter’s eyes slowly open.
The light is too bright at first. He blinks, trying to adjust, his vision coming in and out of focus.
Shapes turn into people.
Illyana is there sitting beside the bed, her head resting near his arm, still holding his hand as she sleeps.
Across the room, Nico, Harry, and Gwen sit near his computer, talking quietly.
Peter blinks again.
Breathes.
Illyana stirs at the movement. Her eyes open.
“Peter…” she says softly.
The others turn immediately.
“Hey, buddy, you’re awake,” Harry says, relief washing over his face.
“I knew you’d pull through,” Nico adds.
Illyana lets go of his hand, but she doesn’t move far. She just smiles, like she’s still making sure he’s real.
Peter tries to smile back.
It comes out more like a grimace.
“You look like hell, bro,” Harry says.
Peter tries to speak, but his voice doesn’t come. He just shakes his head slightly.
“I’ll go get May,” Gwen says, already heading for the door.
Peter lifts a hand weakly, pointing at her, confused.
“Yeah… she knows,” Illyana says gently.
Peter exhales and slumps back slightly.
A moment later, he shifts and tries to sit up, then stand
Somehow… he does.
“Already healing. Look at you,” Harry says, half impressed, half concerned.
Illyana moves closer, ready to catch him if he falls.
“Glad you’re okay,” Nico says.
The door opens.
May rushes in.
The others quietly step out, giving them space.
“Thank God you’re okay,” she says, pulling Peter into a tight hug.
“I’m fine, May,” Peter says, his voice rough and strained.
She doesn’t let go right away.
“I was so scared,” she whispers. “I thought I… I.”
She can’t finish.
“I promised you wouldn’t lose me,” Peter says softly.
May pulls back, looking at him for a moment before nodding.
“I’ll go make you something to eat,” she says, brushing a hand across his cheek before heading out.
The room falls quiet.
For a moment, Peter just stands there.
Then the door opens again.
Illyana steps back in.
She walks over and hugs him.
Peter blinks slightly. “This is new.”
“I thought I almost lost you,” she says into his shoulder.
Peter hugs her back, a little tighter.
“No one’s gonna lose me,” he says. “I promise.”
She pulls back, looking at him.
Then lightly hits his arm.
“And don’t ever do that again.”
Illyana lingers for a moment.
Her eyes drift, just for a second to Peter’s lips.
A faint blush creeps in, but she says nothing.
“You’re going back out there… aren’t you?” she asks, her gaze dropping to the torn suit lying nearby.
Peter hesitates.
“I have to,” he says.
Illyana shakes her head slightly. “Why? One day… you’re going to die doing this. In that costume.”
Peter exhales, thinking.
“My uncle told me… with great strength comes great.” he pauses, correcting himself slightly, “comes great responsibility.”
He looks at her.
“I think I finally understand what he meant.”
Illyana takes that in.
Really takes it in.
“Then you’re not going alone,” she says.
“Illyana.”
“No,” she cuts him off. “I’m coming.”
“So am I,” Nico adds, stepping into the room.
Peter looks between them.
A beat.
“…Okay. Fine.”
He walks over to his closet, opening it and pulling out a fresh Spider-Man suit, clean, sharp, nearly identical to the one he just destroyed.
“How many of those do you have?” Nico asks.
“Five more,” Peter replies casually.
He pauses, glancing back at them. “Can you guys turn around?”
They do.
…Mostly.
Illyana glances back just slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse as he pulls the suit on, quickly looking away again.
A moment later.
“Alright,” Peter says, pulling the mask over his head. “I’ve gotta find the magic wizard.”
Nico snorts slightly. “That’s one way to say it.”
Peter turns to Illyana. “Open a portal to Manhattan.”
She nods, raising her hand.
A blue portal tears open, leading through Limbo, swirling with energy.
They step toward it.
Something grabs Peter.
He’s yanked backward and slammed straight through the floor
He lands in the kitchen below as the portal snaps shut above him.
“Peter!” May screams.
Harry rushes forward, immediately pulling May and Gwen back. “Move now!”
Peter groans, pushing himself up
Then he sees him.
Mephisto drops down in front of him, landing with unnatural ease.
The air feels heavier instantly.
Wrong.
Harry guides May and Gwen out of the house, shutting the door behind them.
Peter reacts fast.
A web shoots out.
He yanks himself forward and drives a kick straight into Mephisto’s face.
Spider-Man hits the kitchen wall and pushes off, diving onto the wooden table just as Mephisto’s claw tears through the air where he stood.
He slides across the surface.
A boot slams into him, sending cold food flying into his face.
The table flips.
Spider-Man reacts instantly hands snapping to the ceiling, feet catching the table mid-air. He hangs there for a split second, body twisted unnaturally
Then hurls the table back down at Mephisto.
It shatters on impact.
Spider-Man drops, tackling him through the wall.
They burst into the living room, rolling across the floor, trading punches fast and wild.
Mephisto grabs him and throws him into the TV stand.
Wood splinters.
Glass breaks.
“Come on, man… really?” Spider-Man groans, forcing himself back up.
He lunges.
Kicks Mephisto square in the chest.
Nothing, Mephisto barely moves.
With a flick of his arm, he sends Spider-Man flying through the window.
Glass explodes outward as Peter crashes into May’s car, denting the metal beneath him.
He barely has time to breathe before Mephisto steps through the broken frame, approaching slowly.
A baseball bat shatters over Mephisto’s head.
He doesn’t flinch.
He turns, and Harry stands there.
“Foolish mortal,” Mephisto says.
He punches him.
Harry hits the ground hard and doesn’t move.
Blood begins to pool beneath his head.
“No!” Spider-Man shouts, scrambling to his feet.
He charges, driving a punch into Mephisto’s jaw.
This time, he slides back. Just a little.
Mephisto smiles.
“Much better, boy.”
May steps forward.
“Stop, what are you doing.”
“May, no!” Spider-Man shouts, moving toward her. A claw slashes across his chest, tearing through the spider emblem.
The force knocks him back, and Mephisto’s arm swings again.
The strike catches May across the stomach.
She collapses, gasping, clutching the wound as blood begins to spread through her clothes.
Everything slows.
“May…?”
A portal tears open beneath them.
Spider-Man and Mephisto drop through and slam into the street outside.
They separate.
Spider-Man scrambles up.
Mephisto straightens, completely calm.
“I’ll see you soon,” he says.
Then he vanishes.
Gone.
Spider-Man spins, searching, Nothing. Silence.
He looks back, and his heart drops.
May lies on the ground, clutching her stomach, blood seeping through her hands.
Harry is motionless nearby, blood trailing from his head.
“...No.”
Peter’s face goes pale.
“No… no, no—I got you. I got you,” he says, dropping to his knees beside May.
Across from him, Gwen kneels over Harry, her hands shaking as she tries to keep pressure on his head wound.
Nico and Illyana stand frozen for a moment, shock locking them in place.
Then Illyana moves, kneeling beside Peter.
May’s voice is barely there.
“P-Peter… I—”
Her eyes close.
“May…?” he whispers, his voice breaking.
“No—no, May—”
His hands tremble.
His spider-sense flares.
Peter turns sharply.
S.H.I.E.L.D. agents rush in, weapons up, securing the area as medics push past them.
Nick Fury walks in behind them, scanning everything with his one good eye.
Medics drop to their knees beside May and Harry, immediately going to work.
Peter wants to stay.
He should stay.
But he’s pushed back, forced to make space.
Illyana reaches for him, gripping his hand.
Fury steps closer, taking in the damage, the broken house, the shattered glass, the blood.
“We got here as fast as we could,” he says. “What the hell happened?”
Peter doesn’t answer at first.
He just stands there, holding Illyana’s hand, his mask clenched in the other.
“Mephisto followed me,” he says quietly. “I fought him… but…”
His voice cracks.
“I wasn’t enough.”
Illyana looks up at him.
“You did what you could, kid,” Fury says.
Peter shakes his head.
“No… I could’ve done more.”
Fury narrows his eye slightly. “Like what?”
Silence.
“I could’ve not held back.”
Illyana’s grip tightens.
She remembers the fight.
The strength he showed.
He was holding back…
Peter lets go of her hand.
Turns.
Starts walking away.
Fury watches him. “What are you gonna do, kid?”
Peter stops.
Slowly looks back.
“I’m gonna kill him.”
He pulls his mask on and fires a web, swinging off into the night.
Gone.
Nico rushes over to Illyana. “We’re just gonna let him go? He barely survived the first time!”
Illyana’s expression hardens.
A sword forms in her hand.
“No,” she says. “We’re going.”
She looks toward where Peter disappeared.
“Just like we said.”
A portal tears open beside them.
“I’m not letting him get himself killed.”
CENTRAL PARK — APPROACH
The battle rages on.
Blade drives a demon back with a brutal kick, sending it straight into Moon Knight’s staff.
CRACK.
Ghost Rider exhales a stream of hellfire, engulfing a wave of demons in flames.
Behind them, Doctor Strange and Scarlet Witch remain focused, hands raised, energy swirling as they search for Mephisto.
The others hold the line.
“They just keep coming,” Blade says, cutting through another.
“Then we’ll keep killing them,” Ghost Rider growls.
Moon Knight suddenly pauses.
A blue glow flickers nearby.
A portal opens.
He raises his weapon.
“Relax,” Ghost Rider says. “Allies.”
Illyana and Nico step through.
“Have you guys seen Peter?” Nico asks, striking a demon aside with her staff.
“No,” Ghost Rider replies, reducing another to ash with a punch.
“I need to find him,” Illyana says, slicing a demon clean in half.
“We all do,” Strange calls out from behind them. “If we want to survive.”
Nico frowns. “What does that mean?”
Strange doesn’t look away from his spell. “He’s the one in the prophecy. The one who defeats Mephisto.”
“Prophecy?” Illyana repeats.
Moon Knight gestures vaguely at the chaos around them. “Yeah, all of this? Very messed up prophecy vibes.”
“Freeze,” Nico says suddenly.
She grips her staff, cutting her hand slightly as energy surges outward.
The demons in front of them stop.
Completely still.
Blade doesn’t hesitate.
He moves through them like a shadow, slicing them apart one by one.
Strange drops from the air, landing beside Wanda as she lowers her magic.
“I’ve got him,” he says.
“Where?” Ghost Rider asks.
“Central Park.”
Ghost Rider’s flames flare. “Then let’s go banish him.”
“Agreed.”
Strange opens a small portal, reaching through it, and pulls out an ancient tome.
“The Book of the Vishanti,” he says, fastening it to his belt.
Illyana looks around, tense. “We still need to find Peter.”
“He’ll be there,” Strange says. “He has to be.”
He opens a full portal.
One by one, they step through.
Nico hesitates.
Illyana grabs her arm. “Nico, come on.”
She pulls her through.

CENTRAL PARK
They emerge, and stop.
The ground trembles.
A demonic church rises from the earth, twisting upward, blackened stone forming in unnatural shapes as crimson energy pulses through it.
At its center is Mephisto.
His back is turned as he raises the structure with effortless power.
“So glad you could join me,” he says, without even looking at them.
“Go back where you came from, demon,” Strange replies, stepping forward.
Light bursts from his hand.
A powerful blast surges toward Mephisto.
Mephisto lifts one hand and catches it, effortlessly.
Then sends it back.
The blast slams into Strange, and he’s gone.
Vanished into a portal of hellfire.
The Book of the Vishanti hits the ground.
Silence.
Ghost Rider lashes out first, chains snap forward, wrapping around Mephisto, tightening with burning force.
Above, Scarlet Witch rises into the air, her hands glowing.
A continuous beam of crimson chaos magic slams into him.
Nico steps forward, focusing.
A pulse of purple energy fires from her, striking Mephisto alongside Wanda’s attack.
Moon Knight, Blade, and Illyana hold their ground, ready to move in the second an opening appears.
For a moment, it works.
Mephisto screams.
A blinding red light erupts from him.
The force blasts outward, sending everyone flying. The ground cracks. The demonic cathedral fractures, chunks of it breaking apart and crashing down.
Illyana hits the ground hard, rolling across the dirt.
She tries to push herself up, but she’s pinned.
A fallen tree traps her legs.
“Help!” she shouts, struggling.
Mephisto steps forward, his voice calm… almost amused.
“No one’s coming, child.”
Above her, a massive piece of the cathedral breaks loose.
Falling straight toward her.
Illyana turns her head away, bracing.
Waiting for the impact.
It never comes.
Slowly, she looks up and sees Spider-Man standing above her.
Holding it.
His arms shake under the weight, but he doesn’t let it fall.
Without a word, he hurls it.
The debris slams into Mephisto, knocking him off his feet and sending him rolling across the ground.
Spider-Man doesn’t say a word.
He lifts the fallen tree off Illyana with raw strength, his breathing heavy, uneven.
She stares at him.
So does everyone else.
Something about him feels… different.
He steps forward.
Toward Mephisto, who’s already rising to his feet.
Wanda watches, confused.
Concerned.
Spider-Man stops in front of him.
“You think you can hurt my family?”
He grabs Mephisto by the head, and drives a punch straight into his face.
The impact echoes.
But Mephisto doesn’t stay down.
He catches Spider-Man just as fast, grabbing his head, pulling him close.
He whispers something.
Something only Peter hears.
Then, he throws him.
Spider-Man crashes through a tree, splintering it, and doesn’t get back up.
“Peter!” Nico and Illyana shout at the same time.
The rest of the team moves instantly.
Ghost Rider charges, chains igniting.
Blade follows, fast and precise.
Moon Knight rushes in, swinging his staff.
Wanda rises into the air, firing bursts of crimson magic.
The attacks hit, but do nothing.
Moon Knight’s staff cracks across Mephisto’s shoulder, splintering on impact.
Blade slices across him, no effect.
Ghost Rider wraps his chains around his fist, slamming punch after punch into Mephisto.
Nothing.
Mephisto moves.
He kicks Moon Knight away like he’s nothing.
Grabs Ghost Rider and headbutts him, and throws him straight into Blade, sending both crashing down.
Wanda drops from the air, charging him.
He swings.
She blocks it with both hands, crimson energy flaring as she catches his fist.
Magic crackles around her arms as he pushes forward.
Forcing her back, her boots carving into the ground as she slides.
Nico steps forward, steadying herself.
She chants.
A pulse of purple energy fires out, striking Mephisto and making him stagger.
For the first time.
He reacts.
Illyana sees Peter still down.
She opens a portal behind Mephisto and steps through, and unleashes a flurry of strikes, her sword cutting again and again.
But the blade does nothing.
She doesn’t stop.
Behind her, the others push themselves back up.
And charge again.
UNKNOWN REALM — WITHIN PETER’S MIND
Peter wakes up.
Darkness surrounds him.
He’s no longer in his suit, just a blue T-shirt and tan cargo pants. He sits up slowly, breathing unevenly, looking around.
“Illyana?” he calls.
His voice echoes.
No answer.
“Hello?” he tries again.
The darkness shifts.
A presence forms.
Mephisto.
“Where are they?” Peter demands.
“Still fighting,” Mephisto says calmly. “Me, of course.”
Peter clenches his fists. “What do you want?”
Mephisto smiles faintly. “I have something to show you.”
He raises a hand and the world changes.

Streetlights flicker on.
Cars line the road.
A familiar building stands ahead.
The library.
Peter freezes.
“…What are you doing?”
“Showing you where it all began.”
A figure walks into view.
Uncle Ben.
Peter’s breath catches.
A gunshot echoes.
Ben falls.
“No—Uncle Ben!” Peter shouts, rushing forward, but he can’t reach him.
The scene continues without him.
People gather.
A younger Peter runs into view, dropping beside Ben.
Ben’s voice echoes.
“With great strength… comes great power… comes great responsibility.”
Peter lowers his head, tears forming
Ben stands.
His eyes… wrong.
Empty.
“But you wouldn’t know what that means.”
Peter steps back. “What—”
The world twists.

A bridge.
Wind howls.
A small boy stands there, clutching a teddy bear. Beside him, his father.
Peter recognizes it.
The fight with Shocker.
“If you knew what that meant… I would still be alive,” the boy says, his voice hollow.
“No—I’m sorry,” Peter says, shaking his head.
Mephisto laughs softly.
“You don’t care about us,” the father adds.
“I—I didn’t see you,” Peter stammers.
“Of course you didn’t,” the man snaps. “You were too busy playing hero… when you’re just a scared little boy.”
“I’m sorry…” Peter repeats, voice breaking.
The world shifts again.

A hospital room.
Machines beep steadily.
May.
Harry.
Both are lying in beds.
Broken.
“If you were a hero,” Mephisto says, circling him, “they wouldn’t be here.”
Peter looks down, shaking.
“I was your friend, Pete,” Harry’s voice says weakly. “I gave you Oscorp tech… helped you. And now I’m in a coma… because of you.”
“Harry… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”
May speaks next.
“Peter… if we never took you in… Ben would still be alive. We wouldn’t have to struggle… wouldn’t have to worry about money.”
“May, no… don’t say that…”
“You’re no hero,” she says coldly. “You’re not Spider-Man.”
More figures appear.
Ben.
The boy.
The father.
They surround him.
“You’re not Spider-Man.”
Again.
“You’re not Spider-Man.”
Again.
“You’re not Spider-Man.”
Peter collapses to his knees, covering his ears, tears streaming down his face.

REAL WORLD
The others are down.
Held in place by thick, hellish roots wrapping around their bodies, pinning them to the ground.
They struggle, unable to move.
Mephisto stands before them, arms slightly raised.
“Ain’t this beautiful?” he says. “All of you… kneeling for your new king.”

BACK TO PETER
The darkness returns.
Peter kneels alone.
Mephisto steps forward, crouching in front of him.
“Hear that, Peter?” he says softly. “You’re no hero.”
He extends his hand.
“I can take all of this pain away. All you have to do… is make a deal.”
Peter stares at it.
A voice behind him.
Illyana.
He turns.
She stands there, eyes empty.
“You’re alone, Parker,” she says coldly. “Weak. Annoying. Useless.”
Peter’s hand trembles.
“Shake my hand,” Mephisto urges. “And all will be forgiven.”
Silence.
Peter looks down.
Then slowly, he shakes his head.
“I’m not alone,” he whispers.
He moves, driving an uppercut into Mephisto’s jaw.
The false Illyana lets out a demonic scream, and vanishes.
Mephisto stumbles back, surprised.
“Who do you think you are?” he snarls.
Peter stands.
His Spider-Man suit begins to form around him, piece by piece, materializing over his body.
He looks up.
Steady now.
“I’m Spider-Man.”
He steps forward and punches Mephisto.
The world shatters.
Mephisto fades.
Spider-Man gasps and bolts upright.
The world snaps back into focus.
Illyana. Nico. Blade. Ghost Rider. Moon Knight. Wanda.
All bound. Held down by writhing hellish roots.
Doctor Strange is nowhere to be seen.
Peter stands.
Fast.
Across from him, Mephisto turns, noticing.
A slow smile spreads across his face.
“Ah,” he says. “So you’ve bested my little mind game.”
Spider-Man doesn’t answer.
He moves.
A web shoots out.
He zips forward, ducking under Mephisto’s incoming punch with precision.
“You have no idea what I’ve been through,” Spider-Man says and drives a punch into Mephisto, launching him straight into the cathedral wall.
Stone cracks.
Mephisto groans, but Peter is already on him.
“You don’t know how much I’ve been holding back!”
He uppercuts him, launching Mephisto up through the cathedral and through the tower and into the sky.
Below, the others stare.
Stunned.
“I knew he was strong but… not like this,” Nico whispers.
Ghost Rider’s flames flicker.
Not from Mephisto.
From Peter.
Illyana says nothing.
She just watches.
High above.
Spider-Man rises over Mephisto, both hands locked together, then slams down.
The impact drives Mephisto back through the cathedral.
The entire structure collapses inward,
A crater forms as debris explodes outward.
Spider-Man lands on top of him.
Mephisto swings, and Spider-Man catches his fist.
With a sharp motion, he flattens his hand and slices through Mephisto’s arm like it’s nothing. Even Blade pauses.
“…He cut through demon flesh like it’s paper.”
Peter doesn’t stop.
He drives a punch into Mephisto’s face.
“This is for Harry—”
A punch.
“For May—”
Another.
“And for everyone you ever hurt—”
Another.
The final blow sends a shockwave ripping through the battlefield.
The hellish roots collapse, releasing everyone.
Nico moves fast, grabbing the Book of the Vishanti.
“Catch!” she shouts, throwing it.
Peter catches it without even looking.
He flips it open and finds the page
He begins to speak, ancient words echo.
A glowing pentagram forms beneath them, burning with golden light.
Peter steps forward, eyes locked on Mephisto. “GO.” He pulls his arm back “HOME.” and drives a final punch, sending Mephisto crashing back through a portal of hellfire.
The gateway snaps shut behind him.
Spider-Man stands in the crater, breathing hard.
His gloves are torn.
Blood stains his hands.
The fight is over, but it doesn’t feel like it.
A portal opens behind him.
Doctor Strange steps through, and stops.
He takes in the destruction. The collapsed cathedral. The silence.
“…What happened?”
Illyana is already moving, rushing to Peter’s side.
“The kid took on the devil alone,” Blade says. “And won.”
Moon Knight tilts his head slightly. “Yeah… we should probably all be a little afraid of that.”
“Interesting,” Strange mutters.
Around them, the sky begins to change.
The crimson fades.
Blue returns.
The remaining demons crumble into ash, dissolving into nothing.
“Peter… are you okay?” Illyana asks.
“I’m fine,” he says, but his eyes are already on Strange.
“Where were you?” he snaps.
Strange doesn’t flinch. “Mephisto trapped me in hell.”
“Peter, let’s go,” Illyana says softly.
Strange opens another portal. “Yes. We should leave before this attracts attention.”
One by one, they step through.

ROOFTOP — NIGHT
They emerge high above the city.
The air is still.
Quiet.
Ghost Rider’s flames dim, and Johnny Blaze stands in his place once more.
Peter sits alone at the edge of the building, his mask in his hands.
He doesn’t put it on.
Behind him, the others watch.
“He’s become more powerful than he ever imagined,” Strange says quietly.
“And he’s going to keep getting stronger,” Wanda adds. “I can feel it.”
Nico glances at Illyana… then at Peter.
“That was terrifying,” she says. “I’ve never seen him lose it like that. All that strength… and he’s been holding it back this whole time.”
Illyana nods slowly. “Maybe that’s why he jokes so much. To keep himself on a leash… to make sure he doesn’t cross a line.”
Johnny crosses his arms. “Could be.”
Blade exhales. “Whatever the reason… we better hope he keeps it tight.”
Moon Knight shrugs. “Because if he doesn’t… none of us stand a chance.”
Illyana doesn’t respond.
She just walks over to Peter and sits beside him.
For a moment, neither of them speaks.
Then Peter notices.
“You’re bleeding,” he says, looking at her arm. “You’ve got a cut.”
“I’m fine,” she says. “Are you?”
Peter hesitates.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “May… Harry… they’re in the hospital because of me. Because I couldn’t protect them from… him.”
He grips his mask tighter.
“What if I can’t protect you?”
Illyana reaches over, taking his hand.
“You are enough,” she says. “You protected them from dying. That matters.”
Peter exhales.
“…I guess.”
He squeezes her hand back.
A small pause.
Illyana smirks slightly, brushing her hair back. “For the record… what you did back there was… kind of hot.”
Peter blinks.
Caught completely off guard.
“…That’s one for the books.”
From across the rooftop “Hey!” Nico calls out. “He’s making jokes again!”
Peter and Illyana both smile at that.
They stand.
Strange looks at him. “Peter… are you okay?”
Peter turns back, pulling his mask back into his hand.
“…Define okay.”
“I sent my astral form to the hospital,” Doctor Strange says. “May and Harry are both stable… and Harry’s actually awake.”
Peter exhales, tension finally easing from his shoulders.
“…Thank you, sir,” he says.
Illyana squeezes his hand.
Johnny Blaze steps forward, arms crossed. “We’ve got a question for you. You—and Illyana and Nico.”
Peter glances at them, then back. “Ask away.”
Strange steps in. “We want to know if you’ll join the Midnight Suns.”
He gestures to the group.
“Myself. Wanda. Blade. Moon Knight. Johnny.”
Peter looks at Nico.
She shakes her head slightly.
Then at Illyana.
She doesn’t hesitate.
“We’ll join,” Peter says. “But… I’m just a kid from Queens.”
Strange gives a faint smile. “A kid who just took on the devil alone… and won.”
Peter thinks for a second.
Then nods.
“…Okay. I’m in.”
“Good,” Strange says.
He lifts a hand, mystic energy forming around Peter’s web-shooters, wrapping them in glowing runes before fading.
Peter looks down. “Whoa, what did you just do?”
“I’ve given you the ability to come and go from the Abbey,” Strange explains.
Peter looks back up. “The what?”
“A world between worlds,” Strange says. “Where we meet.”
Johnny nods toward the portal already forming. “And where things get worse.”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Strange adds, “we need to speak with the Caretaker.”
One by one, Strange, Moon Knight, Blade, Wanda, and Johnny step through the portal.
It closes behind them.
Silence returns to the rooftop.
Just Peter, Illyana, and Nico.
Peter looks between them.
“…So. What now?”
Illyana doesn’t answer.
She just steps forward and pulls him into a kiss.
Peter freezes for half a second then melts into it.
From a few feet away “Ugh, gross,” Nico says, turning away. “Get a room. I do not need to see my friends kissing.”
Peter and Illyana break apart, both smiling.
For the first time all night,
Things feel… okay.
EPILOGUE
A DISTANT WORLD — 60,000 LIGHT YEARS AWAY
A dead world.
Rotting.
The ground is slick with decay, the air thick and heavy, as if the planet itself is slowly dying.
At its center sat a throne.
Black. Twisted. Alive in ways it shouldn’t be.
A figure sits upon it.
Long white hair drapes over pale, almost lifeless skin. His mouth curls into a jagged grin, rows of sharp teeth catching what little light remains. Black armor clings to him like a second skin.
Ancient, hungry, and aware.
He leans forward slightly.
“Someone… sent Mephisto back to hell,” he says, his voice rough, like it’s being dragged across stone.
A low, amused chuckle.
“Interesting.”
The shadows behind him shift.
Move.
Waiting.
He lifts a hand.
“Send a scout.”
A pause.
Then one word, Cold.
Deliberate.
“Venom.”