A month passed since Lina Moreau — Star Inferna — agreed to let Spider-Man help her.
Thirty nights of swinging through the city, sparring on rooftops, and learning what it really meant to wear a symbol.
At first, it was awkward. Spider-Man cracked jokes constantly, and Lina didn't always understand them. She wasn't used to laughing anymore. But slowly, the edges of her grief began to soften.
He taught her how to aim her fire without burning down half a block, how to predict a punch instead of reacting with rage, and how to pull people out of danger without letting her powers consume her.
"Okay, Star," Spider-Man said one evening, perching on the edge of a skyscraper while the sunset painted the sky red and gold. "Lesson one: no city-wide barbecue tonight. You think you can manage that?"
Lina smirked. "No promises."
He chuckled, webbing a soda can off the ledge and tossing it to her. "You've got a good heart, kid. But your fire's got a mind of its own. You have to guide it. Don't let it guide you."
She stared at the can for a second before crushing it in her hand — not from anger, but from focus. A faint hiss of smoke rose from her palm, but the metal didn't melt.
"Better," he said, impressed. "At this rate, you might even beat me in a spar."
"I already did. Twice."
"That's debatable."
They both laughed — something Lina never thought she'd do again.
---
Over the next few weeks, Spider-Man became something she never expected: family.
He wasn't her father, not her mentor in the way Tony Stark was to Peter. He was more like an older brother she'd never had — annoying, protective, endlessly patient.
He taught her how to move through the city with grace.
How to listen to the sounds of danger in the wind.
How to save people without losing herself.
And when she had nightmares — flashes of her parents' deaths, or Mephisto's voice crawling into her mind — she sometimes found Spider-Man already waiting on the next rooftop, holding two cups of hot chocolate.
"Couldn't sleep either," he'd say. "Figured I'd keep watch with you."
Lina never said thank you aloud, but she didn't have to.
---
One night, after a long patrol, they landed on a quiet rooftop overlooking the Hudson River. The city lights shimmered below them, and the breeze carried the faint scent of rain.
"Y'know," Spider-Man said, sitting cross-legged on the edge, "I never asked. How did you get your powers?"
Lina froze.
She'd avoided that question every time it came up. She wanted to keep her deal with Mephisto buried — a secret that belonged to the dark. But something about Spider-Man's voice, gentle and sincere, made her chest tighten.
"I… made a deal," she said finally. "With someone I shouldn't have. My parents were killed. I just wanted the strength to stop the man who did it."
Spider-Man was quiet for a long moment. "And now that you've got that power?"
"I'm trying to use it right."
He nodded slowly. "That's all anyone can do, Lina. Just promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Don't ever let that thing you made a deal with convince you that you owe him more. You don't. You already paid your price."
She looked down at her gloved hands. "What if he doesn't agree?"
Spider-Man sighed, turning toward her with that same half-smile he always wore. "Then he'll have to deal with both of us."
For the first time in months, Lina laughed freely — a small, honest sound that seemed to push the darkness back just a little.
---
But Mephisto wasn't done.
That night, as Lina returned to her apartment, the shadows thickened around her walls. The air grew cold, heavy with sulfur.
> "You've grown attached to the spider," came the silky voice. "How sweet. A mortal pretending to be your brother."
Lina clenched her fists. "Leave him out of this."
> "I'm simply concerned, my little star. He's teaching you their way — mercy, compassion, restraint. You forget who you are."
"I know exactly who I am," she hissed.
> "Do you?" Mephisto chuckled. "Because every time you use my flame, it burns deeper into your soul. You can't deny what you are — my creation."
Flames erupted briefly around her, cracking the ceiling. She fought to contain it, her body trembling. "You don't own me!"
> "You already gave me your soul, child. I'm just waiting for you to admit it."
The shadows vanished, leaving her gasping for breath.
She sank to the floor, pressing her hand against her chest. For the first time, she felt afraid — not of Mephisto, but of herself.
---
The next night, she met Spider-Man again on patrol, but she was quieter than usual.
"You okay?" he asked, scanning her face.
"Yeah," she lied.
"You sure? You look like you're about to punch a ghost."
She forced a laugh. "Something like that."
They leapt into the city lights together, but as they moved between the skyscrapers, Lina's mind swirled with doubt. How long before Mephisto tried to take back what he gave her? How long before she became what she feared most?
But when she looked ahead and saw Spider-Man flipping through the air, calling back, "C'mon, slowpoke!", something inside her steadied.
She wasn't alone anymore.
Maybe she had made a deal with the devil, but she had also found someone who believed in her — someone who treated her like she was more than her curse.
As they landed on the next rooftop, Lina said softly, "Hey… thanks."
Spider-Man tilted his head. "For what?"
"For being here. For not giving up on me."
He shrugged. "Hey, that's what big brothers are for, right?"
She smiled. "Yeah. I guess so."
The two of them looked out over the city — one born from fire, the other from loss — and for a fleeting moment, the world felt balanced.
The devil's voice was quiet. The night was calm.
And Lina Moreau, the girl who had once made a deal with darkness, finally felt a spark of light that was truly her own.