(Marvel, DC, and all images, manhuas, and anime mentioned or used in this story belong to their respective owners. The main character, Karito/Adriel Josue Valdez, and the story itself belong to me.)
By the time Pantheon reached its eighth episode, Adriel and Peter had spent several uninterrupted hours on the sofa.
Neither of them had moved much beyond occasionally reaching into the bowl of popcorn or making a comment about whatever was happening on-screen. It was the closest either had come to relaxing since arriving in Piltover.
In the kitchen, Vi and Vander's conversation had finally settled into something quieter. They had spent hours trying to fit years of separation into a single afternoon, moving between painful revelations, awkward explanations, and the occasional story that left one of them laughing.
Eventually, Vander's newly restored body reminded him that it required food.
Vi glanced toward the living room.
"So, what are we having for dinner?"
Peter reached for the remote and paused the episode before Adriel could pretend he had not heard her.
Adriel looked at him.
Peter shrugged. "Don't look at me. You're the one everyone expects to feed them."
"I made pizza not that long ago."
"And now you've established a precedent."
"That's not how that works."
"It is in this house."
Adriel sighed and leaned back, considering his options.
He could make something simple, but feeding everyone was rarely simple. Vi and Vander were here, Jinx would eventually return, and Artoria and Ace could eat enough food between them to bankrupt a restaurant.
After several seconds, an idea came to him.
"Chicken Alfredo wraps."
Vi's face brightened immediately.
"That sounds fucking amazing."
Her enthusiasm caught Adriel off guard.
She had been smiling ever since reuniting with Vander, but this was different from her usual sarcastic grin. There was an open energy to her now, something lighter and almost infectious.
She looked genuinely happy.
That was all Adriel could have asked for.
"All right," he said, pushing himself off the sofa. "Chicken Alfredo wraps it is."
Peter settled back into his seat.
"You know where to find me."
"You could help."
"I helped by pausing the show."
"That isn't helping."
"It preserved your viewing experience."
Adriel flipped him off as he headed toward the kitchen.
Once there, he allowed Passive Knowledge to search for something close to the meal he had imagined. The ability sifted through an impossible amount of information before settling on a short recipe posted to Instagram by a woman who appeared remarkably enthusiastic about creating different kinds of food.
The recipe was simple enough.
Two pounds of boneless chicken breast seasoned with salt, black pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, and avocado oil. A creamy sauce made from butter, minced garlic, whole milk, mayonnaise, freshly grated Parmesan, Italian seasoning, parsley, and several of the same spices. Flour tortillas and shredded mozzarella would finish the wraps before they were toasted in a skillet.
Naturally, the original quantities would not be enough.
Adriel multiplied everything several times.
Cooking for Artoria and Ace alone required preparation on the scale of a small banquet. Adding everyone else meant he needed enough chicken to make a truly unreasonable number of wraps.
Fortunately, running out of food was not something he needed to worry about.
Ingredients appeared across the counter as he retrieved them from storage: chicken breasts, tortillas, blocks of Parmesan and mozzarella, milk, butter, garlic, mayonnaise, bottles of seasoning, and more avocado oil than an ordinary household would have required.
Vander watched from across the kitchen as Adriel went to work.
The chicken was cleaned, cut into even portions, and placed inside several large bowls. Adriel added salt, black pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, and avocado oil before mixing everything until the seasoning coated every piece.
He moved without hesitation.
There was no recipe sitting open beside him and no measuring cup he needed to check twice. Passive Knowledge had already committed every quantity and step to memory. His hands followed the information as naturally as if he had prepared the meal hundreds of times.
Once the chicken had been left to marinate, Adriel began organizing the sauce ingredients and preparing the skillets.
Vander watched him for another moment before leaning closer to Vi.
"Has he always been like this?"
Vi looked toward Adriel.
"With cooking?"
"With everything."
She chuckled.
"Funny. I asked Peter almost the same thing when Adriel made pizza for everyone."
"What did he say?"
"Apparently, yeah."
Adriel heated avocado oil across several large skillets before adding the first batches of chicken. The meat hissed the moment it touched the surface, filling the kitchen with the smell of smoked paprika and garlic.
Vi folded her arms against the counter.
"Put him in front of a kitchen, and he acts like he's been cooking his entire life," she continued. "For himself, other people, probably entire armies at this point."
Considering how long Adriel had lived and how many worlds he had visited, that might not have been much of an exaggeration.
Vander watched as Adriel stirred one skillet while adjusting the heat beneath another without looking.
"He's certainly comfortable doing it."
"He likes taking care of people."
Vi's smile weakened slightly.
"Sometimes too much."
Vander glanced at her.
Vi did not elaborate.
Adriel remained focused on the meal, unaware of the quieter exchange behind him.
The chicken cooked for several minutes until each piece had developed a golden crust and was completely cooked through. Adriel transferred it into covered trays and immediately began the next stage.
Butter melted across the same skillets, gathering the seasoning and browned remnants left behind by the chicken. He added the minced garlic and stirred it for roughly thirty seconds, allowing it to become fragrant without burning.
Whole milk followed.
Adriel whisked the mixture until it became smooth, then added the mayonnaise. It disappeared into the milk and butter as he continued stirring, thickening the foundation of the sauce.
Fresh Parmesan fell into the skillet in pale strands.
Salt, black pepper, garlic powder, Italian seasoning, and dried parsley followed. Adriel reduced the heat and continued stirring until the cheese melted and the sauce became thick enough to cling to the spoon.
The smell reached the living room.
Peter looked toward the kitchen.
"Okay, that smells incredible."
"You can still help," Adriel called back.
"I'm emotionally supporting you from here."
"You're gonna emotionally support my foot up your ass."
Vander looked at Vi.
"Are they always like this too?"
"Pretty much."
Adriel arranged the tortillas across the counter and began assembling the wraps. Each received a generous portion of seasoned chicken, a layer of Alfredo sauce, shredded mozzarella, and a little more sauce over the top.
He folded in the sides and rolled each tortilla tightly.
The finished wraps returned to clean skillets seam-side down. Adriel toasted them for several minutes on each side until the tortillas became golden and crisp and the mozzarella melted into the chicken and sauce.
The work kept his hands occupied.
His thoughts were less cooperative.
Vi looked happy.
Adriel kept returning to that observation, as though he needed to confirm it every few minutes.
She had not pulled him aside.
She had not demanded to know what else he had been hiding or accused him of manipulating her family behind her back. She had simply reunited with Vander, spent hours speaking with him, and then asked Adriel what he planned to cook for dinner.
Perhaps Adriel had been too paranoid.
He had assumed that once Vi recovered from the initial shock, she would confront him about restoring Vander without telling her. That conversation might still happen, and she would be justified in having it.
But it had not happened yet.
Instead, she was smiling.
Peter's words returned to him.
Bringing Vander back had not been wrong. The way Adriel had done it was reckless and impulsive, but the decision itself had given Vi something she had believed was lost forever.
Something good had come from it.
Adriel glanced toward her.
She was still beside Vander, explaining something that made her father's eyebrows rise in disbelief. Whatever she said next caused him to shake his head, and Vi laughed at his reaction.
The sight loosened something in Adriel's chest.
If Vi had reacted this well, perhaps Jinx would too.
Her response would probably involve more yelling, several wildly inappropriate jokes, and at least one threat against Adriel for not telling her sooner. Knowing Jinx, she might alternate between crying and insulting everyone in the room before tackling Vander hard enough to test the durability of his new body.
But she would be happy.
At least, Adriel hoped she would.
For the moment, everything appeared to be going well.
He chose not to question it.
Adriel returned his attention to the skillets, turned the final batch of wraps, and continued cooking dinner.
An hour later, Adriel finished toasting the final chicken Alfredo wrap.
He placed it atop several dozen others stacked into a precarious pyramid across an enormous serving platter. Melted mozzarella and Alfredo sauce peeked from the crisp edges of the tortillas, while the smell of garlic, Parmesan, and smoked paprika had long since filled the house.
Adriel lifted the platter with one hand and carried it to the dining table.
Everyone in the room stared at the absurd amount of food.
Vi stared the longest.
"Who the hell are we feeding? The entire town?"
"Ace and Artoria might be hungry."
"Might be?"
"You've seen them eat."
"Yeah, but this is more than usual, even for those two."
Adriel placed the platter in the center of the table and considered whether he should mention the other reason he had prepared so much.
Vander's restored body now contained a version of the super-soldier serum. Beyond increasing his strength, speed, endurance, durability, and recovery, the enhancement had also accelerated his metabolism. Adriel suspected his appetite would increase considerably once his body finished adjusting.
For a moment, he considered keeping that detail to himself.
Then he remembered that he had spent the past hour expecting Vi to confront him precisely because he had already hidden too much from her.
Keeping another secret immediately after worrying that she would ask what else he was hiding would have been monumentally stupid.
"There's another reason," Adriel admitted.
Vi looked at him suspiciously.
"What did you do?"
"Why do you immediately assume I did something?"
"Because you used that voice."
"What voice?"
"The one you use right before explaining something completely insane like it's normal."
Adriel glanced toward Vander, who had joined Peter in the living room sometime while Adriel was cooking. Peter had spent most of the past hour explaining The Sopranos to him, and judging by Vander's interest, he had made the series sound far more appealing than Vi expected.
She might watch it later.
Right now, however, her attention remained fixed on Adriel.
"I enhanced Vander's new body," he said.
Vi frowned.
"Enhanced it how?"
"I gave him something called a super-soldier serum."
Her expression did not change.
Adriel waited.
"That means absolutely nothing to me," she said.
"Right. Different universe."
He leaned against the counter.
"Basically, it improves everything his body can already do. He's stronger, faster, more durable, harder to exhaust, and able to recover from injuries more efficiently. His senses, reflexes, immune system, and metabolism have also been enhanced."
Vi slowly looked toward Vander.
Her father was listening to Peter describe a fictional criminal's complicated relationship with his mother and appeared completely unaware that they were discussing him.
"He didn't have any of that before," Vi said.
"No."
"You added it when you made his body."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Adriel hesitated.
There was no point softening the answer.
"Paranoia."
Vi looked back at him.
"I didn't want him to die again," Adriel continued. "We're dealing with Noxians, Darks, and whatever else decides to appear while we're here. Vander was already strong, but I kept thinking about what might happen if this town were attacked while we were somewhere else."
He folded his arms.
"So I made him stronger."
Vi studied him for several seconds.
Adriel waited for the criticism.
Instead, she released a quiet breath.
Since Adriel had returned to her life, everything she understood about the world had been overturned. Gods, alternate universes, fictional stories, reality-altering enemies, and technology beyond anything Piltover could create had all become part of her daily existence.
At this point, learning that her resurrected father had been given an otherworldly serum barely ranked among the strangest things Adriel had introduced into her life.
She could understand his reasoning.
Adriel had acted out of fear, but it was fear of losing Vander again.
Vi could hardly condemn him for that.
"How strong is he now?" she asked.
"I haven't tested him."
"That sounds dangerous."
"Probably."
Vi looked toward Vander again.
"We're testing it outside."
"Obviously."
"Far away from the house."
"Also obvious."
"And you're paying for anything he breaks."
"I created the house."
"Then you can create it again."
Adriel tilted his head.
"Fair."
Vi looked at him once more.
"Next time you decide to give someone in my family a mysterious enhancement from another universe, tell me first."
"I will."
"You said that way too easily."
"I'm trying this new thing called honesty."
"How's that going?"
"Mixed results."
Despite herself, Vi smiled.
Adriel turned toward the refrigerator to retrieve beverages for everyone.
Before he could open it, Vi stepped forward and gently caught his wrist.
He stopped immediately.
The touch itself did not concern him. The nervous way she shifted her weight did.
"Can we talk somewhere private?" she asked.
Adriel visibly paused.
There it was.
He had known the confrontation was coming eventually. Vi had simply waited until the excitement surrounding Vander had settled before asking what else he was hiding.
At least, that was what Adriel assumed.
"Sure."
He glanced toward Peter and Vander.
Neither appeared to be paying attention.
Adriel led Vi upstairs and into his office. Once they were both inside, he closed the door behind them and moved toward his desk.
He sat on its edge and leaned back against his hands, forcing his posture to remain casual despite the unease beginning to gather in his stomach.
"So," he said, "what's up?"
Vi stared at him.
Then she crossed the room so quickly that Adriel barely had time to react.
She threw both arms around him.
The force of the hug nearly knocked him flat against the desk. Adriel stiffened just in time to keep them both upright, his hands hovering uselessly at his sides.
He had expected anger.
He had prepared himself for questions, accusations, and another reminder of everything he had handled poorly.
He had not prepared for this.
Vi held him tightly.
"There's nothing wrong," she said before he could ask. "I just wanted to thank you."
Adriel remained completely still.
"For what?"
Vi pulled him closer.
"For bringing him back."
Her voice tightened.
"Not just whatever part of him was trapped inside that beast. You gave him his body back. You gave us our dad."
The last word trembled.
Adriel's expression softened.
"When Vander died, everything fell apart," Vi continued. "Mylo and Claggor died in that cannery. Powder thought she was helping, and I..."
She swallowed.
"I hit her. I walked away because I was angry, and before I could go back, Marcus took me. Silco found her. We lost years because of what happened that night."
Her grip tightened around him.
"Losing Vander was where everything broke. Powder and I both lost a part of ourselves when he died. Neither of us ever really got it back."
Adriel lowered his gaze.
Vi's voice became quieter.
"And now he's downstairs arguing with Peter about some show like none of that ever happened."
A strained laugh escaped her, followed by a shaky breath.
"I know it doesn't erase everything. Mylo and Claggor are still gone. Powder and I still did horrible shit to each other. There are years we're never getting back."
Tears gathered in her eyes.
"But Vander's alive."
One escaped before she could stop it.
"You gave him back to us."
Adriel finally lifted his arms and wrapped them around her.
Vi pressed her face against his shoulder.
"Thank you," she whispered. "Seriously, Adriel. Thank you."
He had no idea what to say.
Vi remained against him for several seconds before speaking again.
"And I'm sorry."
Adriel's brow furrowed.
"For what?"
"What happened with Caitlyn."
His body tensed slightly.
Vi felt it.
"When Artoria suggested forcing the two of you to talk, I went along with it," she said. "I knew you didn't want to be there. I knew you'd been avoiding Caitlyn, and instead of asking why, I decided you were being difficult."
"You weren't the one who dragged me outside."
"I still helped."
Vi pulled back just enough to look at him.
"What you did to Cait was wrong. I'm not pretending it wasn't."
"I know."
"But we crossed a line first."
Adriel's gaze shifted away.
"We decided your boundaries didn't matter because we thought we knew what was best for you. Then we put you in front of someone you clearly weren't ready to face and acted surprised when everything exploded."
"That doesn't excuse what I said."
"No. It doesn't."
Vi did not soften the truth.
"But you're not the only one who fucked up."
Adriel remained quiet.
"I heard what you said about wanting everyone to have a happy ending," Vi continued. "And after everything you've done for us, I believe you."
Her eyes drifted toward the office door, beyond which Vander waited downstairs.
"You keep trying to fix everything. You rebuild homes, protect people you barely know, and carry everyone else's problems like they're yours."
She looked back at him.
"But that scares me."
Adriel frowned.
"Why?"
"Because you'll let yourself drown as long as everyone around you is smiling."
The words struck him with uncomfortable familiarity.
Vander had told him nearly the same thing.
Vi studied his face.
"You take on so much shit that nobody even realizes how bad you're doing until you break. And when someone asks, you say you're fine."
Adriel opened his mouth.
Vi raised an eyebrow.
He closed it again.
"Exactly."
She loosened her arms and stepped back several inches, though she did not let him go completely.
"I spent years hating you for what you did back then," she said. "I didn't understand what happened to you or what you were dealing with. All I knew was that you hurt us and disappeared."
Adriel lowered his eyes.
"But you came back," Vi continued. "You apologized. You owned what you did, and you've been trying to make up for it ever since."
Her voice softened.
"You didn't stop at making amends. You've gone so far beyond that I don't even know how I'm supposed to repay you."
"You don't owe me anything."
"That's not the point."
Vi lifted both hands and gently cupped his face, forcing him to meet her gaze.
Adriel stared at her in shock.
"I'm grateful," she said. "I truly am."
A small smile touched her face through the tears.
"And if something is bothering you, you can rely on me. You don't always have to be the one fixing everybody else. If you need someone to listen, complain to, or just sit there while you lose your shit, I can do that."
Adriel did not answer.
He could not.
Vi had spent so many years hating him that some part of Adriel had accepted her forgiveness as the most he would ever receive. He had never expected gratitude, concern, or the trust she now placed in him.
Vi wrapped her arms around him again.
This time, Adriel hugged her without hesitation.
Warmth spread through his chest as he held her. The pressure that had followed him since his outburst with Caitlyn eased, if only slightly.
For several moments, neither of them spoke.
Adriel's mind remained uncharacteristically empty. Every possible response felt inadequate beside what Vi had just given him.
Once the shock finally subsided, he managed the only honest answer he had.
"Anything for you."
Something in Vi's chest fluttered at the unguarded sincerity.
The words carried no performance and demanded nothing in return. They held the simple, fierce loyalty Adriel reserved for the people he considered family.
Vi smiled against his shoulder.
She had no idea how literally he meant them.
The two remained there for what felt like several minutes before finally separating.
Vi took a step back and cleared her throat, suddenly aware of how long the embrace had lasted.
"That was..."
Adriel waited.
"Longer than I expected."
He raised an eyebrow.
"You started it."
"I know."
Vi rubbed the back of her neck.
She was never going to admit that she had enjoyed the hug a little too much. That did not mean anything. Adriel was simply an annoyingly good person to hug.
A good cuddle partner, even.
That observation would die with her.
"We should probably head downstairs," she said. "Ace and Artoria might be back by now."
Adriel watched her avoid his gaze.
Then he snorted.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're laughing at me."
"I didn't say anything."
"Your face did."
Adriel pushed himself away from the desk and opened the office door.
"Come on. The food's getting cold."
They returned downstairs together.
Peter and Vander were already seated at the table, both staring at the enormous platter with growing impatience.
Peter looked toward them.
"Finally. I was about to assume you two escaped through a window and left us here to starve."
"You've been waiting five minutes," Vi said.
"An unforgivable amount of time."
Vander's attention remained on the food.
"When are Ace and Artoria returning?"
Peter pulled out his phone.
"I'll text them."
He began composing the message.
"I'm telling them to hurry the hell up because I'm starving. If they take too long, I'm starting without them."
"Don't forget Jinx," Vi said.
"Right."
Peter added her name to the message.
Adriel moved toward the refrigerator again.
Just as Peter prepared to send the message, the front door burst open.
Jinx stumbled inside, breathing heavily. Sweat covered her face, and her still-damp braids clung to her clothes. She had clearly run the entire distance from the lake without stopping.
Every head in the room turned toward her.
Jinx braced one hand against the doorway and tried to catch her breath.
"Guys, we've got a problem. Ace and I were at the lake, and this woman came out of the forest. She was bleeding, and—"
Her gaze landed on Vander.
Her voice died.
Vander slowly rose from his chair.
Jinx stared at him.
Her mouth remained slightly open, but no sound followed. Every thought in her head appeared to stop at once.
"Powder?" Vander said.
Jinx's brain ceased functioning.
Quite literally.
Adriel looked between them, but the panic in Jinx's face before she saw Vander concerned him more than the reunion waiting to happen.
He moved directly into her line of sight.
"Jinx."
She leaned around him to continue staring at Vander.
"Jinx, focus."
"That's—"
"I know."
"He's—"
"I know."
"How the fuck—"
"I'll explain everything, but you came here because something happened."
Jinx blinked rapidly.
Her thoughts struggled to restart.
"Ace," she managed. "At the lake. We were screwing around, and someone came out of the forest."
"Who?"
"The councilwoman. The gold one."
Adriel's expression hardened.
"Mel?"
"Yeah. Mel Medarda. She was covered in blood and cuts, and then she just fell over. Ace gave her one of your Elixirs and told me to get everyone."
The atmosphere in the room changed immediately.
"Is she alive?" Peter asked.
"Yeah. The Elixir healed her, but she wasn't awake when I left."
"Did Ace see who attacked her?" Adriel asked.
Jinx shook her head.
"She came out alone. He stayed with her and said he'd bring her here when she was ready."
That was enough.
Adriel stepped away.
The moment Vander reentered Jinx's line of sight, every other thought disappeared again.
She launched herself across the room.
Vander barely had time to brace before Jinx slammed into him and drove them both to the floor.
"Oof—"
She wrapped herself around him and began crying.
Vander stared upward in stunned silence before his expression broke. He brought both arms around her and held her as tightly as he could without risking his newly enhanced strength.
"Powder..."
Jinx buried her face against his chest.
Adriel gave them only a brief glance.
He wanted to let the reunion unfold. Jinx and Vander deserved that moment just as much as Vi had.
Unfortunately, Mel's condition meant they no longer had time to focus solely on the emotional explosion happening across his floor.
"Peter."
Peter looked toward him.
"Change the message."
Any trace of humor disappeared from Peter's face.
Adriel's expression had become cold and focused.
"Call every Guardian," he said. "Emergency meeting. Tell them Mel Medarda was found outside the town, badly wounded, and we need everyone here immediately."
Peter deleted the unfinished message and began typing again.
The enormous platter of wraps remained untouched in the center of the table.
Dinner would have to wait.
Less than five minutes after Peter sent the message, all four Guardians were gathered inside Adriel's home.
Artoria arrived first. The tension between her and Adriel remained unresolved, but one look at Peter's expression told her that whatever conversation they needed to have would have to wait.
Ace arrived last.
Mel Medarda entered beside him.
Her injuries had disappeared completely, healed by the Elixir Ace had used on her. She wore clean clothes he had provided after her original garments were reduced to bloodstained tatters. Physically, she appeared healthy.
Nothing could erase the trauma from her face.
Her eyes remained distant and unfocused, repeatedly drifting toward empty corners of the room as though she expected something to emerge from them. One hand trembled despite the way she held it tightly against the other.
Ace looked worse.
He was not injured, but the grim set of his expression immediately tightened something in Adriel's chest. Ace was usually the easiest among them to read. Even during difficult situations, he carried himself with an irritating calm that made every disaster seem manageable.
That calm was gone.
The untouched platter of chicken Alfredo wraps still occupied the center of the table, an absurd remnant of the evening they had expected to have.
Mel sat with the Guardians gathered around her. Ace remained standing beside her chair, his arms crossed and his hat shadowing his eyes.
After Jinx left the workshop, Mel awakened within seconds of the Elixir completing its work.
Ace had given her time to change before questioning her. Even then, extracting a coherent explanation had proven difficult. Mel spoke as someone attempting to describe something her mind had never been designed to comprehend. Her account came in fragments, interrupted by long silences and moments when language simply failed her.
Ace had patiently guided her through it until he understood most of what had happened.
At least, he understood enough.
Adriel sat across from Mel.
"What happened in Piltover?"
Mel's fingers tightened together.
For several seconds, she did not answer.
Then she forced herself to look at him.
"It was attacked."
"By Anansi?"
"I do not know that name."
Adriel glanced toward Ace.
"He was there," Ace confirmed. "Whether she recognized him or not."
Mel swallowed.
"There were others."
The room became quieter.
Artoria moved closer to the table.
"How many?"
"I don't know."
Mel shut her eyes, struggling against whatever memories had surfaced.
"They came from beneath us. There was no warning. No army gathering outside the city, no ships approaching the harbor, and nothing in the sky."
Her voice began to tremble.
"The first signs appeared in Zaun. People spoke of disappearances, strange sounds beneath the streets, and structures changing where no construction had taken place. We believed it was another incident involving the Undercity."
Mel opened her eyes again.
"We were wrong."
Adriel leaned forward.
"The portal opened beneath Zaun?"
"Far beneath it."
That explained why the rest of Runeterra had not reacted.
A portal large enough to release an invading force above Piltover would have been visible for miles. Every neighboring nation would have seen the distortion in the sky. News would have spread before the first attackers reached the city.
Anansi had not announced himself.
He had opened the way underground, beneath even the lowest levels of Zaun, and allowed his forces to climb into the cities from below.
It was a surprise invasion that no one outside Piltover even knew had begun.
"What did you see?" Peter asked.
Mel stared at the table.
"Gods."
The word escaped her before she could reconsider it.
Then she shook her head.
"No. Monsters. Some resembled people, but others..."
Her breathing shortened.
"I could not understand what I was looking at. My mind could not hold their shapes. Every time I tried to focus on them, something changed. Their bodies, the distance between us, sometimes the streets themselves."
She pressed a hand against her forehead.
"I know how that sounds."
"No," Adriel said quietly. "You don't."
Mel looked toward him.
"Those words are probably the closest your mind could get," he continued. "Gods. Monsters. Eldritch horrors. They're simpler concepts than whatever was actually standing in front of you."
That brought her no comfort.
Her gaze fell again.
"The last thing Jayce told me was to find you."
Jayce's name appeared to catch in her throat, but she forced herself to continue.
"He said the Guardians were somewhere within the Kumungu Mountains. He ordered me to leave Piltover and warn you."
"You left Jayce behind?" Artoria asked.
Mel's expression fractured.
"I did what he told me."
"That was not what I asked."
"I don't know where he is."
The admission came sharply.
Mel drew a shaky breath.
"I have not seen him since I fled. I don't know whether he escaped, whether he remained in Piltover, or whether..."
She could not finish.
Ace placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.
"That's everything she knows about Jayce," he said. "Pushing her won't change it."
Artoria inclined her head and stepped back.
Ace looked around the table.
"Anansi has started expanding into this dimension."
Adriel's expression hardened.
Two months had passed since he interfered with Anansi's plans. Apparently, the Spider God had grown tired of waiting for events to unfold according to their original course.
"He's moved from infiltration to full invasion," Ace continued. "Whatever timetable he had before, he's abandoned it."
"And he brought reinforcements," Peter said.
Ace nodded.
"More Darks."
The words settled heavily over the room.
"Do we know who they are?" Artoria asked.
"No."
Ace glanced toward Mel.
"She can't identify them, and her descriptions aren't reliable enough for us to work from. That isn't her fault. Whatever she saw was beyond anything she had encountered before."
Mel lowered her gaze.
"We'll have to see them ourselves," Ace continued. "Reconnaissance first, assuming they give us the opportunity. Once we know what they are and what abilities they possess, we prepare around them."
"Assuming we have time," Peter said.
That was the greater problem.
They had reached the final stretch of events corresponding to the second season of Arcane. Even without Anansi's interference, Piltover and Zaun had already been approaching the point where every remaining conflict would collide.
Now the original story had been torn open by a full Dark invasion.
The Guardians had intended to recover from their previous battle, investigate Anansi's movements, develop a strategy, and attack only when they were ready.
That window had disappeared.
They would have to recover, investigate, plan, and fight almost simultaneously if they wanted any chance of saving the dimension.
Adriel leaned back in his chair.
Of course he could not catch one proper break.
He had managed a few episodes of Pantheon, cooked dinner, and experienced the brief illusion that everything might remain peaceful for one evening.
Now Piltover was being consumed from below.
"I have a plan for Anansi," Adriel said. "The others are the problem."
Everyone looked toward him.
"What others?" Mel asked.
"The Darks accompanying him."
Adriel folded his arms and considered what little information they possessed.
"Their presence doesn't fit."
Ace's eyes narrowed.
"Explain."
"Darks assigned to a dimension aren't normally replaced or reinforced without a reason. Once one establishes an operation, the others generally remain within their own territories unless the larger plan changes."
"You believe these newcomers are substitutes," Artoria said.
"Possibly."
Adriel tapped one finger against his arm.
"They might not have come willingly. Anansi could have forced them into this operation, or someone above him might have changed the assignment and sent them here."
Peter studied him.
"Why would anybody replace the Darks already working with him?"
"I don't know."
Adriel did not attempt to disguise the uncertainty.
"This is speculation. Mel can't tell us who she saw, and we have no evidence beyond the fact that additional Darks appeared when they normally shouldn't have."
He released a frustrated breath.
"I might be overthinking it because I hate not knowing what we're walking into."
"That would be consistent," Peter said.
Adriel gave him a flat look.
Peter raised both hands.
"I'm just saying."
The brief exchange did nothing to lessen the pressure filling the room.
Peter looked toward Ace.
"Let's say we identify the new Darks. We fight them, somehow defeat them without losing half the team, and reach Anansi."
"That is the objective," Artoria said.
"Yeah, and our luck guarantees every part of that is going to be a nightmare."
Peter turned toward Adriel.
"But Anansi himself is still a problem for me."
Adriel understood immediately.
Peter continued for the benefit of everyone else.
"Anansi isn't merely another Spider-Totem. He's the Spider God—the first Spider-Man. Every spider-connected avatar traces back to the same web, and he can put his hand directly on the source."
Mel listened without understanding, but no longer possessed enough disbelief to question any of it.
"If he decides to sever my connection," Peter said, "everything derived from the spider disappears. My Spider-Sense, my enhanced strength, my reflexes, my ability to cling to surfaces—all of it."
"You would still possess the Velocity Suit," Artoria said.
"Because its connection comes from the Speed Force, not the Web of Life."
Peter nodded.
"But that leaves me fighting the Spider God with borrowed speed and none of the abilities I've spent most of my life relying on."
"And that is before accounting for his ability to manipulate the plot itself," Ace added.
Anansi did not merely overpower his opponents.
He could interfere with the structure of the story around them, forcing events toward outcomes that benefited him. Preparation meant little when the enemy could reach beyond physical reality and alter the circumstances under which the battle occurred.
Peter fixed his gaze on Adriel.
"If we fight him, he's going to shut me down before I become a problem."
"I know," Adriel said.
Peter paused.
"You know?"
"I already accounted for it."
"The Spider-Totem severance?"
"Yes."
"And his plot manipulation?"
"That too."
Everyone around the table turned toward him.
Even Mel lifted her head.
Artoria studied Adriel carefully.
"What exactly have you prepared?"
Adriel tilted his head to one side and cracked his neck. Then he straightened, looked at each of them in turn, and released a tired sigh.
"All right," he said. "Here's the plan."
⟡ ⟡ ⟡
Meanwhile, Piltover burned.
Anansi stood above the conquered city and surveyed the destruction with a neutral expression.
His unexpected guests had caused considerably more damage than he had anticipated. The forces they brought with them poured through Piltover and Zaun, slaughtering, assimilating, or corrupting nearly everything in their path. Entire districts had collapsed. Smoke buried the skyline, and strange growths spread through the streets where buildings once stood.
Perhaps inviting them had been the correct decision after all.
They remained somewhat irritated by how suddenly he had summoned them. Each had been pursuing their own objectives, and dragging them into Runeterra had disrupted at least one carefully prepared plan.
Anansi would have to repay that inconvenience eventually.
That debt was the least of his concerns.
Piltover had fallen completely.
Noxus would follow soon.
Anansi had infiltrated the empire's ranks long before launching the invasion. Disguised agents, corrupted soldiers, and altered memories had given his allies several routes past its defenses. Once the attack began, the Noxians never had the opportunity to understand what they were fighting.
The Dark currently tearing through their territory possessed power beyond anything the empire could comprehend. Even with their armies, weapons, and native magic, the Noxians could do little more than watch their country collapse around them.
Still, Anansi had spent enough time admiring the damage.
The invasion needed to expand.
This story had to die before the second season of Arcane reached its conclusion.
Otherwise, the narrative would expel him.
From the perspective of the outside world, the series had already ended on Netflix. Every episode existed and could be watched from beginning to end.
Inside the dimension, however, the story still experienced itself one moment at a time.
It was much like reading a completed book. The final page already existed, but the characters within the opening chapters had not yet reached it. Anansi could enter the narrative at an earlier point and interfere with events while they continued unfolding in real time.
That opportunity ended with the story's conclusion.
Unless Anansi corrupted or destroyed the narrative before its final moment arrived, he would be rejected as an outside element that had failed to secure its place within the completed work.
The final episodes were approaching.
His remaining time was shrinking.
Anansi wandered across the ruined heights of Piltover, his gaze lifted toward the smoke-covered sky like a god inspecting his latest creation.
A wet scraping sound approached from behind.
Something silver and crimson descended through the smoke.
The Carnage-infused Silver Surfer glided toward him atop a board covered by the same red symbiote consuming his body. Crimson tendrils crawled over the Surfer's metallic form, sliding between plates of living silver and forming mouths that opened and closed without purpose.
He stopped several feet from Anansi.
When he spoke, his voice emerged as a deep, gargling vibration filled with barely restrained bloodlust.
"The twin cities are secured."
Anansi turned toward him.
"Completely?"
The symbiote shifted across the Surfer's face.
"One escaped."
Anansi's eyes narrowed.
"Mel Medarda."
It was not a question.
"The golden woman," the Surfer confirmed. "She fled before the horde sealed the northern route. Something concealed her presence long enough for her to reach the mountains."
The Guardians, most likely.
Mel's escape was inconvenient, but not disastrous. By now, she had probably found them and delivered her warning.
Anansi had expected the Guardians to discover the invasion eventually.
He merely would have preferred another few hours.
"And Jayce Talis?" Anansi asked.
A delighted growl rolled through the symbiote.
"He resisted."
That caught Anansi's attention.
"For some unknown reason, your Guardian's influence remained attached to him. It protected his mind and body from immediate assimilation."
"Protected" was perhaps too generous.
Whatever Adriel had done merely delayed the inevitable.
"The protection failed," the Surfer continued. "Talis was overwhelmed. He belongs to the horde now."
Anansi nodded.
Jayce might still prove useful. Any lingering connection between him and the Guardians could be exploited once they returned to Piltover.
Anansi turned toward the distant horizon.
Somewhere beyond it waited Noxus, Ionia, and the remaining continents of Runeterra.
"What of Venom, Gorr, and Thor?"
The Surfer became thoughtful.
Crimson tendrils withdrew slightly from his face.
"The King in Black has abandoned the Noxian front and entered Ionia."
Anansi glanced back at him.
"Already?"
"The Vastaya are resisting."
The Surfer's grin widened.
"Poorly."
Ionia's natural magic and spiritual connection made the region more difficult to corrupt than Piltover. Its people would sense changes in the land itself long before any conventional army noticed the invasion.
Apparently, that had not helped them.
"Venom's forces are spreading through the forests," the Surfer continued. "The land fights him, but every creature consumed adds its strength to the horde. Physical conquest should be complete within one or two days."
"And narrative corruption?" Anansi asked.
The Surfer's expression darkened.
"Slower."
Of course.
"The Guardians remain within the dimension," he explained. "Their presence interferes with complete assimilation. Wherever the corruption spreads, the narrative attempts to repair itself around them."
Anansi looked toward the mountains.
"An antivirus."
"Yes."
As long as the Guardians remained active, Runeterra would continue resisting the Darks' attempts to overwrite it. Cities could be conquered, populations assimilated, and entire regions destroyed, but the underlying narrative would not submit completely while its unwanted protectors remained inside.
The Guardians had to be exhausted, contained, or killed.
Preferably all three.
"Gorr is transporting the bomb from the bridge," the Surfer reported. "Thor remains in Noxus awaiting further instruction."
Anansi considered the expanding invasion.
Piltover had fallen. Zaun was being consumed beneath it. Venom had entered Ionia, and Gorr would soon deliver the weapon.
There was no reason to leave Thor stationed in a territory that was already collapsing.
"Take Thor with you," Anansi ordered. "Gather another division from the remaining forces and continue south. Conquer every territory beneath Noxus and Piltover that you can reach."
The symbiote rippled excitedly.
The slaughter of Piltovans and Zaunites had done little to satisfy its hunger. Turning survivors into members of the horde was practical, but Carnage had never been interested in practicality.
It wanted violence for its own sake.
"At last," the Surfer growled. "These cities had begun to bore us."
A crimson opening formed along his arm. Organic strands moved inside it as he transmitted Anansi's command to Thor.
Then the Silver Surfer turned his board toward the horizon.
The air split around him.
He disappeared in a streak of silver and red, leaving a pressure wave that scattered smoke across the ruined skyline.
Anansi watched him leave.
Then his thoughts returned to the bomb.
He had ordered Gorr to abandon its previous development site near the bridge and bring the weapon directly to Piltover. Continuing the work here would allow the bomb's core to absorb the narrative corruption already saturating the twin cities.
If the corruption continued accumulating at its current rate, the weapon would be ready within a few hours.
Then they could fire it.
Anansi should have felt confident.
Piltover belonged to him. Noxus was collapsing. Ionia had already been invaded, Jayce had joined the horde, and additional forces were spreading throughout Runeterra faster than the native population could react.
Despite that, one concern remained.
Adriel.
That particular Guardian possessed an abnormal capacity for adaptation.
Whenever an enemy fought him twice, Adriel returned with a counter for nearly everything used against him during the first encounter. In the earliest season of his story, he had often defeated enemies during their first battle. Experience had only made that tendency more dangerous.
Anansi's narrative manipulation would not catch him unprepared again.
Adriel now understood that Anansi could read the active plot. He knew the Spider God could examine scenes, follow internal monologues, and study strategies while they were being formed.
So the bastard had deliberately denied him access.
Anansi reached into the current narrative, searching for the strategy being discussed inside the Guardian's home.
He found Adriel tilting his head.
He saw him crack his neck.
He heard the exhausted sigh.
All right. Here's the plan.
Then the scene ended.
The narrative had cut away at the exact moment Adriel began explaining his strategy.
Anansi's expression twitched.
There was nothing beyond that sentence. No internal monologue revealing the plan. No description of Adriel's preparations. No convenient piece of dialogue for Anansi to intercept.
Only a transition to Piltover.
To him.
Adriel knew he was reading.
The infuriating little bastard had used a cliffhanger as encryption.
Anansi clenched one hand.
Whatever Adriel had prepared, it was meant to counter both his ability to sever spider-derived powers and his control over the narrative. The Guardian would not rely on the same methods he had used during their previous confrontation.
He would adapt.
He always did.
Anansi could only trust that the allies he had dragged into this dimension would exhaust the Guardians before they reached him. Even if his friends failed to kill them, every injury they sustained, every ability they exhausted, and every resource they sacrificed would make the final confrontation easier.
The Guardians possessed an unnatural degree of luck.
But luck could be overwhelmed.
Anansi's irritation gradually faded.
A smile spread across his face as he looked over the conquered city.
The final episodes were approaching.
The players were moving into position.
And somewhere beyond the mountains, the Guardians were preparing a plan he could not read.
His fist tightened, and his smile widened.
"Let us see how this season ends," he murmured, "and which Guardian dies before the credits roll."
⟡ ⟡ ⟡
The meeting ended, but no one left the table feeling reassured.
Adriel's plan gave the Guardians a genuine chance of defeating Anansi. Unlike their previous encounter, the others could assist directly and play significant roles in the operation.
Unfortunately, the entire strategy still hinged on Adriel.
Their primary responsibility was straightforward: keep him alive and prevent anything from interrupting him while he did what only he could do.
Artoria folded her arms, visibly troubled.
"You truly need to remain within your Hacker state for several uninterrupted minutes? If the process leaves you unable to defend yourself while we—"
"Stop."
Adriel's interruption came so quickly that Artoria blinked.
"What?"
"Don't explain the plan out loud."
"We have already discussed it."
"Yeah, in a scene Anansi couldn't read. He can read the active plot, remember?"
Artoria glanced around the room as though the Spider God might be hiding behind the furniture.
"Then he has already heard what I just said."
"And that was already too much."
That concern was precisely why Adriel had forcefully ejected the narration from his point of view during the meeting and sent it across Runeterra to document Anansi's activities instead.
I, the narrator, had not appreciated being evicted without warning and forced to perform investigative journalism for the enemy. One moment, I had been comfortably settled inside Adriel's point of view; the next, that bastard had hurled me across Runeterra so abruptly that I briefly wondered whether a narrator could die from whiplash.
Adriel glanced toward an empty point above Artoria's shoulder, acknowledged the resulting metaphysical saltiness with one unimpressed side-eye, and ignored it.
There were more important things to worry about.
Tch.
Preparations began immediately.
Every Guardian understood that the town would eventually be attacked. Anansi knew where they were, and leaving the settlement untouched would make no strategic sense once his invasion began spreading beyond Piltover.
The only uncertainty was when.
Peter and Ace headed in the same direction while Adriel and Artoria divided the remaining preparations between them. Peter intended to retrieve equipment from his personal laboratory, which existed inside a pocket dimension isolated from the rest of Runeterra.
He reached into Adriel's Gamer Inventory and removed a small orb from among the stored items. Lines of pale light began circling its surface as he raised it, ready to open the route into his laboratory.
Ace stopped walking.
Artoria's hand moved toward the hilt of her sword.
Adriel turned toward the front of the house.
Peter took two more steps before noticing that everyone else had frozen.
He lowered the orb.
"What?"
No one answered immediately.
Ace's Observation Haki stretched across the settlement. Artoria's instincts warned her that something hostile had entered the area. Adriel's Spider-Sense burned along the back of his skull with enough force to make every muscle in his body tighten.
Yet none of them could identify where the danger was coming from.
The signal existed without a clear origin.
Something foreign was scrambling their senses, scattering the warning across multiple directions until it became impossible to separate the actual threat from its echoes.
Peter looked between them.
"I'm not sensing anything."
Adriel's attention snapped toward him.
"Nothing?"
"My Spider-Sense is completely quiet."
"That's not good."
Peter frowned.
"That isn't usually the response people want when I say I don't feel danger."
"If everyone else senses something and you don't, there's probably a symbiote nearby."
Peter's expression changed.
That explanation made considerably more sense than either of them wanted.
Symbiotes descended from Venom possessed a natural advantage against Peter's Spider-Sense. Because the original symbiote had bonded with Peter—or, at the very least, with other versions of him—its descendants inherited enough familiarity with his biology to bypass the warning system.
Adriel's Spider-Sense had evolved far beyond its original limits. It could detect danger across dimensions, timelines, and layers of reality that should have remained inaccessible to ordinary perception.
Even that enhanced awareness struggled now.
It recognized the presence of danger, but whatever approached them was moving from somewhere beyond conventional time and space. Adriel's senses could register the threat without locating or identifying it.
The recognition component returned nothing except static.
"Ace," Adriel warned.
Ace was already moving toward the exit.
"I'll check outside."
He crossed the threshold.
A red blur struck him before his second foot touched the ground.
A psychotic cackle ripped across the settlement as Ace vanished through the wall of the nearest house.
The impact came first.
The sound followed a fraction of a second later.
Wood, stone, and glass exploded into the street as the red streak drove him through one building and immediately into another. Ace barely raised his arms before a silver fist wrapped in crimson biomass crashed into his jaw.
His head snapped sideways.
Another punch hammered into his ribs before the debris from the first building had finished falling.
The attacker clutched Ace by the front of his shirt and accelerated.
They tore through a third house.
Then a fourth.
Each wall became another surface against which Ace's body was smashed before the attacker dragged him onward, using him as a battering ram through the settlement.
Ace finally saw what had hit him.
Silver skin gleamed beneath a living layer of red symbiote. Tendrils twisted across the attacker's shoulders and arms, while his feet remained planted upon a crimson surfboard that propelled them through the air with impossible speed.
The Carnage-infused Silver Surfer.
The Red Surfer.
It was a considerably simpler name, and no one had time to repeat that mouthful while he was using Ace to demolish a neighborhood.
The Red Surfer drew back his fist again.
Ace's forearm turned black beneath a hardened coating of Armament Haki.
He caught the punch against his guard.
The collision cracked the street beneath them.
Cosmic fire erupted from Ace's body, flooding the space between them with enough heat to vaporize the surrounding debris. The flames wrapped around his other fist as he twisted inside the Surfer's grip and drove a Haki-coated uppercut beneath the monster's ribs.
The impact lifted the Red Surfer from his board.
Ace caught him by the throat and hurled him sideways.
Both of them crashed through the upper floor of one of Adriel's newly constructed buildings, tearing across several rooms before slamming onto the ground level.
The Red Surfer recovered first.
Carnage flowed down his arm and compressed beyond his hand, shaping itself into a long crimson blade. Its edge swept toward Ace's neck before he had fully regained his footing.
Ace leaned sharply to his right.
The blade passed close enough to cut several strands of hair.
He stepped inside the Surfer's reach and buried his fist in the cosmic being's abdomen. Armament Haki reinforced every knuckle as cosmic flame detonated from the point of contact.
The Red Surfer moved backward only a few inches.
His grin widened.
"Of fucking course."
Ace attempted to pull away.
The Red Surfer lunged forward and wrapped both arms around his waist.
They blasted through the remaining wall.
Stone folded around Ace's back before giving way, and the momentum carried them across the street into another house. Furniture, wooden supports, and sections of the ceiling scattered around them.
The Red Surfer planted one hand against Ace's chest.
Silver-white cosmic power gathered beneath his palm.
Ace's eyes widened.
"Shit."
The house exploded.
Fire and cosmic radiation burst through every window at once. The roof lifted from the structure before disintegrating inside the expanding blast.
Ace shot through the rear wall, crossed the street, and struck a boulder hard enough to split it around his body.
Dust rolled over him.
His hearing faded beneath a high-pitched ringing.
Ace coughed and forced himself upright, fragments of stone sliding from his shoulders. His shirt had been scorched away around the point of impact, leaving an angry burn across his chest despite his durability.
The Red Surfer glided from the ruined house.
Symbiote tendrils spread behind him like mutilated wings. Several mouths opened across his torso, each wearing the same delighted smile.
He raised one hand dramatically.
Apparently, he intended to monologue.
"Did you truly believe—"
Blue-white lightning crossed the street.
Both of Spider-Man's boots struck the Red Surfer across the face.
The Velocity Suit discharged Speed Force energy on impact, turning the dropkick into a thunderclap that shattered every remaining window in the area.
The Red Surfer disappeared.
A red line tore across the sky before he slammed into the side of a distant mountain. The entire slope buckled inward, and a circular shock wave spread through the surrounding forest.
Peter flipped once through the air and landed beside Ace.
The Velocity Suit covered him from head to toe, arcs of electricity racing across its surface as it bled off the momentum from his attack.
Ace groaned.
"Since when does Carnage get the fucking Silver Surfer?"
Peter grabbed his forearm and pulled him from the shattered boulder.
"Apparently, since today."
"I hate today."
"Get in line."
Ace tested his balance. Pain flared through his ribs, but nothing appeared broken enough to stop him.
He looked toward the mountain.
"You could've let me hit him one more time."
"You were embedded in a rock."
"I had him exactly where I wanted him."
"Sure."
Peter's tone changed as another explosion echoed through the settlement.
"A whole army followed him."
Ace turned.
Beyond the damaged houses, alarms rang throughout the town. Red and black figures poured from the surrounding forest while others descended from tears opening in the sky. Symbiote creatures crawled across rooftops, and corrupted soldiers charged through the streets as residents fled toward the shelters.
Golden light flashed between the buildings.
Artoria had already engaged the first wave, driving the invaders away from the civilians with broad sweeps of her sword.
Adriel's presence moved rapidly across the opposite end of the settlement. Portals opened between streets as he redirected residents toward safety while preparing their route to Piltover.
The attack had begun before any of them were ready.
Peter looked at Ace.
"Go find Adriel."
Ace stared at him.
"What?"
"You're going straight to Piltover with him. Artoria and I will handle things here."
Ace glanced from the invading army to the damaged mountain.
"Peter, your Spider-Sense doesn't even work against that thing."
"I have the Velocity Suit."
"That isn't what I said."
"And I have Artoria."
The sword's golden light erupted again in the distance, cleaving through an entire line of corrupted soldiers without touching the buildings behind them.
Peter nodded toward it.
"We knew this town would be attacked. We just didn't expect it this soon."
"So the plan's already changing."
"No. We're just moving sooner than planned."
Another tremor rolled beneath their feet.
Peter's mask lenses narrowed.
"We don't have time to second-guess everything now. We lock the fuck in, do our jobs, and trust the others to do theirs."
Ace remained where he was.
He clearly hated leaving Peter and Artoria behind against an army led by something as absurdly powerful as a Carnage-infused Silver Surfer.
Peter shoved him lightly toward Adriel's position.
"Go."
Ace looked at him one final time.
"If I come back and find you splattered across that mountain, I'm burning your laboratory."
"You threaten to do that every other week."
"This time I mean it."
"Then I guess I'd better not die."
Ace clicked his tongue.
Flames gathered around his legs.
"Try not to let Carnage eat you."
"I'll put it on the list."
Ace vanished in an explosion of fire, crossing the settlement toward Adriel in an instant.
Peter remained alone in the ruined street.
For several seconds, the mountain stayed silent.
Then its entire peak exploded.
Crimson cosmic energy tore through millions of tons of stone. The upper half of the mountain disintegrated as a tower of red and silver light pierced the clouds.
The Red Surfer's laughter rolled over the town.
Debris burned around him as he rose from the destruction on his board, Carnage spreading across his body in writhing layers. The wound Peter's kick had opened along his face sealed beneath the symbiote.
His grin returned wider than before.
Peter watched him from across the distance.
His hands slowly curled into fists.
Electricity intensified around the Velocity Suit, racing from his shoulders to his fingers before cutting trenches through the road beneath his feet.
Carnage had escaped death too many times.
It was about time someone made the next one permanent.
Spider-Man raised his head.
Across the shattered mountain, the Red Surfer tilted his board forward and grinned back at him.
To Be Continued...