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The symbiote crisis was over. Not perfectly, though, but the worst of it had been swept away. A few stragglers probably still lurked around—nothing Gwen couldn't handle on her own with her Anti-Venom.
Ava, Piotr, and the mercenaries had cleared the island on Silvija's orders, then swept the surrounding zones.
Psylocke, Logan, Ororo, and the Hellions had handled Massachusetts. Ororo lifting the entire team using her wind had multiplied their search operation's efficiency.
Frank Castle and Clint Barton hadn't needed Dante's intervention. Gwen and Laura took care of the "Judge, Jury, Executioner" guy, and SHIELD had quietly but shamefully reclaimed the archer.
As the sun went down in the distance, Dante found himself standing on an open-air balcony, one hand resting on the stone railing, the other cradling Sharon against his chest. The lavender-furred cat had been stuck to him for an hour straight, honestly addicted to the warmth oozing from his Helio Reactor.
He turned around. The floor below was alive with golden light and the overlapping sounds of people talking. The people who had spent the day bleeding and sweating for this city were sitting down and enjoying meals prepared by Emma's finest chefs.
Emma understood psychology. She chose a small venue to make people feel closer, not because she couldn't afford a fancy place.
Felicia occupied a table near the center with her parents. Her silver-haired mother laughed at something her husband said. Silvija and Ava had been somehow dragged into the Hardy family dinner, probably another one of Felicia's methods to get closer to Silvija. Ava sat slightly rigid in her chair, holding her fork like a weapon. Surrounded by white and silver hair, Ava looked like someone who had accidentally wandered into the wrong family photograph.
At the next table, Emma and Jean chatted. Ororo occasionally added to the conversation, but Psylocke had no desire to join the conversation. Despite that, the four beauties easily stole the spotlight.
Logan, Piotr, and Laura had claimed a corner table. Laura was working through a stack of pancakes. Logan had no glass, just a bottle in his hand and his elbow on the table as he stared into the void. Piotr enjoyed a fancy turkey dish while chugging down neat vodka.
Logan glanced up and caught Dante watching. His eyes narrowed dangerously like a predator. Laura sensed the exchange between her father and his "archnemesis". She looked over her shoulder and gave one slow nod to Dante, that probably meant, I see you, and I'm glad.
Piotr lifted his vodka bottle toward the sky in a generous toast. "Comrade!"
Dante smiled and let his gaze drift to the stage, which had become the Hellions' corner. Roulette, Empath, and Jetstream whipped out insane moves. Tarot just watched with the expression of someone who wanted to be dragged in but would die before asking.
Angelica was missing from the group, probably forced to be isolated by Emma with the excuse of "saving people from her powers."
The sight of people enjoying together warmed his heart, which dampened a little when he noticed the missing blonde Spider-Woman. Gwen had been summoned by the Spider Society, probably to be asked about how her canon event had been reversed without any consequences.
Anna didn't attend either when Silvija asked her to. She loved her work more than the party, or she had her own reason.
'I should get going.'
An old god still needed to pay for his sin. Natasha was somewhere in a certain someone's custody, waiting for him to pull her out. After that—after all of it—he would be free to chase his dream in peace.
He looked at the warm bundle of fur in his arm. "You should dance with your friends."
"Nobody is Catseye's friend on the table," she grumbled. "Catseye wants to stay with Dante."
That was a complete lie to spend time with him.
"What about Tarot? You don't like her?"
Tarot wasn't a bully like Roulette or manipulative like Empath. Of course, she wasn't overly kind like Angelica either. Tarot was probably the most "ordinary" person in the group.
Sharon's whiskers twitched. "Tarot calls Catseye a witch."
He chuckled at her accusation-filled gaze. Being born in superstitious traditions certainly skewed Tarot's common sense. "Go to Emma then. Isn't she basically the Hellions' mother?"
Sharon looked up at him with enormous, pleading amber eyes—the most emotionally manipulative gaze he'd ever received from any creature capable of speech. "Warm human..."
He stroked her fur, feeling the purr rumble through her frame. "I'll play with you later. I promise."
Sharon held the stare for a moment and then jumped down his arm. She meowed at him and then trotted downstairs.
A minute later, Sharon reappeared in the cramped staircase, already cradled in Emma's arms. She stroked the lavender fur with one hand and held her expensive phone in the other.
Sharon looked up at Dante with triumphant eyes and meowed. Then she twisted in Emma's grip and buried her face in Emma's breasts.
She ascended the last few stairs slowly and arrived before him. "Dear."
With a pinch to Sharon's back, she shooed the lavender-furred cat away. It made him wonder why she brought the poor cat up here.
Sharon glared at Emma's back. "Bad Emma."
Emma waved her hand without looking. Sharon had to follow Emma's order even if it was dismissive.
He raised his brows questioningly. "What do you want?"
Emma smiled charmingly and leaned against the balcony. Her revealing silver dress glittered under moonlight, further enhancing her charm. "Do I only ever visit you for benefits?"
"Let's see," he replied with a matching smile.
He closed the distance between them and placed his hands loosely on her waist. Emma seemed curious what he would do next. But when he moved his face closer to kiss her, she shoved him back.
"What do you think you're doing?"
He took a step back and smiled. "Proving you're here for benefits."
"Men," Emma groaned. "You really believe ladies can't form friendships across genders."
"I'm all for friendship, but you—" He laughed. "You don't make friends."
She pressed a hand to her chest. "That hurts, dear."
He leaned beside her on the balcony, watching the clear moon and stars in the sky. "Truth always does, my dear."
This was, of course, meant as teasing. Emma had proven herself to be more than a profit-hungry—she had shown real desire to help others, even if it was disguised as working for herself.
Emma crossed her arms, realizing she couldn't surpass him in a battle of words. "I want to make our alliance permanent."
She finally cut to the chase.
"When I'm back," he said. "Let's sit down and talk."
He remembered their last negotiation when she had more leverage. This time, when they sat across from each other, things would be different.
"Wait—"
He stole a quick kiss on her cheek and walked ahead, raising a hand in farewell. The sound of Emma stomping her high heels made him smile. She was easily provoked at moments when her telepathy failed to work.
He arrived on the floor below and took out his phone to send a message to his "Family" group chat.
[Dante: Enjoy tonight without me. I'm leaving for Asgard]
Felicia and Silvija checked their phones and looked up at the balcony before finding him on the same floor. He shook his head, telling them not to approach. It'd be hard to leave if the two joined hands.
Both looked down at their phones, and typing indicators appeared. Two profile pictures side by side.
[Silvija: Come back before Sunday. I'm leaving for Symkaria]
The day had to come sooner or later. Silvija couldn't stay indefinitely in New York. She had a country to rule, a country where lives depended on her decisions. It would probably be weeks before he saw her again. Maybe months.
He suddenly felt a hollow feeling in his chest.
'It's gonna be fine.'
He could always fly to Symkaria on his own whenever he missed her too deeply. He wasn't on Hyperion level yet, but his speed stomped on every public airline.
[Felicia: Don't worry, Darling. I'm still here]
[Felicia: You still have a reward to collect]
[Felicia: 🍑]
He couldn't help but laugh in the middle of the staircase. The emoji perfectly encapsulated her promise about letting him do things to her ass.
[Dante: Looking forward to it]
He pocketed the phone and closed his eyes to clear his mind to prepare for the teleport. His concentration broke when Emma brushed past him, leaving her perfume behind. He watched her move from table to table, talking and improving her relationship with everyone.
He closed his eyes to imagine the forest in Asgard, only to feel the air suddenly become warm and pleasant. The click clack of high-heels—two different pairs.
Ororo approached him in a deep-cut white dress. His gaze dipped down the chocolate valley for half a second before he exerted his willpower to break from the enchantment.
Jean Grey was in a brown long coat and jeans. She still looked gorgeous even in simple clothing.
The two had shown up for a conversation, something they surprisingly hadn't done during his time in the celebration.
He took Ororo's hand by the fingertips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. The Photographic Reflexes had improved on his etiquette, which was already there ever since he came to this world.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ororo."
Ororo shook her head gently, but the warmth in her eyes conveyed her appreciation for respect. "This really isn't necessary."
Jean frowned in displeasure. "Damn. Why am I still being ignored?"
He presented his palm. Jean froze for a second, then stiffly placed her hand in his palm. He took her hand carefully and pressed his lips to her knuckles with the same unhurried attention.
Jean went scarlet from the collarbone up, unable to show the same calm as Ororo. She stared past his shoulder and said nothing.
"I'm sorry for that," he said, releasing her hand. "I've been terribly busy dealing with Norman's shenanigans."
"You showed up when it counted." Jean waved her hand dismissively. Her voice had recovered its steadiness, even if her face hadn't. She caught Ororo's sideways look and stood slightly straighter. "Dante, I have a request."
He gestured upward with his chin. "We should talk there."
Ororo gave Jean a quiet pat on the shoulder before Jean followed him upstairs. They were alone on the balcony.
"So how can I help you?"
Jean turned the ring on her finger, which wasn't either engagement or wedding ring. If it was, she had worn it on the wrong finger. She raised her chin. "I want you to hire me. Take me under your wing."
Dante stared at her. Being asked to become a teacher wasn't even on his "What could Jean possibly want?" list. And that list included some truly wild things.
Her brow furrowed. "Is it a no?"
"It's a why. Why leave X-Men?"
"They won't let me be who I want to be." Her fists closed against her thighs. She looked at him, eyes steady but fierce. "I want to be something."
Being locked in a mansion while the world outside burned was its own kind of slow suffocation, especially when she had the powers to help.
He understood her, but that didn't mean he would help her for nothing.
"What makes you believe I won't just throw you in a lab?"
"Because you don't work that way." She gave a smile full of confidence. "You return what you're given. You're nice to anyone who is nice to you. I don't believe you have a single reason to hurt me."
Her confidence was startling. Then again, she had Emma's memories to assess the situation and draw conclusions.
And she had been accurate in a way.
He had no intention of offending the future host of Phoenix Force. If anything, it would be great to have her as a part of his team.
"SHIELD won't punish me under your protection."
This was the real reason she sought to become his "student." She only wanted his protection to spread her wings as a superhero, which Xavier refused to let her do.
"That's where you're wrong," Dante said. "Nick Fury's mind is under someone's control. Whoever's pulling Fury's strings wants mutants to live under constant oppression."
Jean's expression flickered. She placed her hands on the railing and looked out at the city, quiet for a moment. "If you don't want me, I'll go my separate way."
"Back to Xavier?"
She responded with a slow, certain shake of the head. She seemed determined to die fighting SHIELD rather than living a safe life. It was less about her desire to be a superhero and more about freeing herself from oppression.
"Go back to your school."
Jean only let out a sigh, accepting that this wouldn't work out.
"And pack your things." He grinned when she turned to him with wide eyes. "I'll come to get you in two days."
Jean held still for a moment. Then the breath left her body all at once, and she gave a single, heavy nod. "Two days are enough for a proper goodbye."
She went quiet after that, eyes drifting upward to the stars. The X-Men chapter of her life came to an end with this decision. He could see her coming to terms with that fact.
"What about Scott?" he asked. "Isn't he—"
She looked at him with a blank gaze. "He is nothing."
That was the tone of someone who would snap at a follow-up question. He had no reason to push it. The only reason he asked was because Scott might use his lovey-dovey words to stop her from leaving.
"I'll see you at the mansion then." Jean turned and walked downstairs in a somber mood.
Dante was just reaching the concentration necessary to teleport when he heard more footsteps. Psylocke came up like she had been waiting for Jean's footsteps to fade. Unlike everyone else, she was still in her usual outfit. He would never complain. The bodysuit looked great on her.
"Hey, Psylocke."
"Sai."
Her stare made it clear that she would only accept this nickname moving forward. Anything else would be answered with her katana.
He gestured to the empty space beside him. She took it without ceremony.
"Let's take care of the Hand next week." He broke the ice since she refused to say anything. "They have to die."
She turned to him with a surprised look. "Is this for me?"
"Not really. They messed with Silvija first."
The conflict had been completely non-personal. Still, he wouldn't let those losers scheme in the background and hurt anyone around him.
"I want to kill them myself," she whispered in a cold voice, gritting her teeth. "It's my vengeance."
Dante felt the fine hair on his forearms respond to her thick murderous intent.
"What did they do to you? If you don't mind me asking."
He couldn't help but be curious about her past. It certainly wasn't the bodyswap magic that affected Betsy in the comics. The Hand had done something worse.
"I mind," she whispered apologetically, yet showing no intention to revisit her past. "Watch out for Selene."
She left a warning behind, which may have been her goal from the start. He had no reason to make a move against Selene. But if she extended a hand toward anything he cared about, he would destroy her.
He knew someone would come the moment Psylocke returned to her table. He was proven right when Logan came up the stairs with his hands tucked in his pocket. Laura was a half-step behind him, eyes slightly heavy from exhaustion. Piotr came last with a bottle in each hand.
The small balcony became crowded in an instant.
***
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