The streets of Hell's Kitchen never slept. Sirens howled in the distance. Neon signs flickered like dying stars. And from one of the rooftops, a small figure watched over the city — a girl in a tattered blue dress, a crimson star glowing faintly on her chest.
Lina Moreau, now known by some as Star Inferna, crouched beside the edge, her hands still warm from the fire she had unleashed. Another night, another monster stopped. Another secret buried beneath the flames.
She sighed, staring at her reflection in a cracked window. For a moment, she saw herself — fifteen, exhausted, frightened. But when she blinked, the image changed. The horns, the golden eyes, the whisper of smoke curling behind her.
The demon.
> "You burn them so easily now," Mephisto's voice coiled in her mind like smoke. "You're adapting well, little star."
"Shut up," Lina muttered under her breath. "You're not real. You're just a curse I carry."
> "Oh, I'm very real. And I'm patient. Every ember burns out eventually."
Before she could answer, a web shot past her face. Sticky, silver, and fast.
"Whoa!" she yelped, jerking back just as another line of webbing hit the wall beside her.
From above, a red-and-blue figure flipped gracefully down and landed on the rooftop beside her, crouching effortlessly. His white lenses narrowed in curiosity.
"Well, you're new," said Spider-Man, tilting his head. "Blue dress, flaming hair, glowing star — definitely not in the Avengers database. You from magic class, or did I miss another Mephisto special on the evening news?"
Lina blinked. "You— you're Spider-Man."
"In the flesh. And you're the girl who just melted a car full of gangsters."
"They were hurting people," she said sharply.
"Not judging. Just… pointing out the whole fire-and-brimstone thing. You're lucky I showed up before the police or the Avengers did."
She crossed her arms defensively. "I don't need help. I can take care of myself."
Spider-Man stood, hands raised in peace. "Okay, okay. Look, I get it. You're angry. You've lost people. You've got power, and you want to make things right. Believe me, I've been there."
He took a step closer, voice softening. "But that kind of fire? It eats you from the inside out. Trust me."
Lina looked away, her fists clenching. "You don't know what I've been through."
"Maybe not. But I know what it's like to blame yourself for everything you couldn't save."
The words struck deeper than she wanted to admit. For a second, she almost spoke — almost told him about her parents, about Mephisto, about how every night she woke up wondering if she was becoming a monster.
But she couldn't. Not yet.
"Thank you," she said quietly, "but I don't need your help."
Before he could reply, her body ignited — flames bursting to life, swirling into black-and-orange wings.
"Wait—!" Spider-Man shouted as she leapt from the rooftop, vanishing into the smoky night.
---
Weeks passed.
Lina kept fighting — demons, criminals, anyone who preyed on the weak. But every battle left her a little more drained, her control slipping inch by inch. The fire whispered to her now, urging her to burn more, to destroy more.
And every time she tried to rest, Mephisto's voice returned.
> "You could rule this world, my little star. Why crawl among insects when you could light up the heavens?"
But one night, as she stumbled through the rain-soaked streets after a fight gone wrong, she heard a familiar thwip.
"Hey, you," said a voice from above. "Still setting the city on fire?"
Lina sighed. "Didn't I tell you I don't need a babysitter?"
Spider-Man swung down, landing beside her. "Yeah, but you look like you could use one. You're bleeding through your sleeve."
She glanced down. The wound burned faintly where demon fire had scorched her skin. "It's nothing."
He looked at her quietly, then said, "You remind me of me — when I first started. Angry. Alone. Trying to save the world without realizing it's okay to ask for help."
She frowned. "And what, you think I should join your spider club or something?"
He chuckled. "Nah. You've got your own style. But I can show you a few things. How to control your strength. How to fight without letting the fire do the thinking for you."
Lina hesitated. The rain hissed against her burning aura, steam rising in soft curls.
"Why do you care?" she asked finally. "You don't even know me."
"Because someone once cared enough to help me when I didn't deserve it," Spider-Man said simply. "And because if you keep doing this alone, Mephisto's not the only devil you'll be fighting."
For a long moment, she said nothing. Then the flames around her dimmed, and for the first time since that night, Lina looked almost human again.
"…Alright," she said softly. "But only if you promise not to treat me like a kid."
Spider-Man's lenses curved in a grin. "Deal. First lesson: heroing's not about how hard you hit — it's about knowing when to stop."
He offered his hand. After a pause, she took it — her gloved fingers trembling against his.
"Welcome to the weirdest internship you'll ever have," he joked, swinging a web toward the next rooftop.
Lina smiled faintly, and when he pulled her along, she didn't resist. For once, the flames inside her felt lighter.
As they swung over the city — one wrapped in webs, the other in fire — Lina looked down at the glowing streets below.
For the first time, she felt like maybe she could belong here.
Maybe, just maybe, her story didn't have to end in hell.