September:
The months seemed to blur past.
I grew more and more comfortable with the mystic arts, though mastery of the Web of Life remained stubbornly out of reach. It seemed that to truly command that particular power, I would need to grow in every other field first — push the edges of everything I knew until the Web had no choice but to respond.
My birthday came and went without ceremony. Only Jean and Felicia remembered to say anything. Honestly, I had forgotten it myself. I didn't feel like a seventeen-year-old. Some days I barely felt like the same person who had arrived in this world.
"And begin," Mordo ordered.
I moved through the kata as I had done a hundred times, flowing through each position with precision before ending with a fist-strike that would have caved in a man's chest if it had connected.
The months had changed me physically as well. I now stood at six feet and one inch, and my robes were blue — marking my advancement through the ranks. I was no longer an apprentice in the simplest sense; I was a practitioner now. Not a master, but no longer a student either.
The training had given me far more than technique. I had learned to fight with magic properly — not just defensively, but with intent. I had gone deeper into the theoretical frameworks of the mystical universe. And most importantly, I had begun making real progress toward the Web of Life, taking deliberate steps toward eventually being able to use it the way it was meant to be used.
"Now — summon a weapon," Mordo ordered.
I nodded, spinning my wrist and calling a spectral double-bladed axe into being, its edges glowing faintly red as I moved into the next kata. The form was complex, a demanding sequence that ended in a powerful downward cut.
"Too slow," Mordo said. My spider-sense screamed. I ducked — just in time — as his expanding staff-whip cracked through the space where my head had been. I rolled and brought up a Sharum shield barely in time to absorb the second swing.
"Argh!" He pressed forward again and again, but I held.
Eventually he stopped and stepped back. He was smiling — not the expression I had come to associate with his usual controlled displeasure, but something closer to satisfaction.
"I'll admit," he said, bowing, "your presence here at the Ancient One's request did seem puzzling to me at first. I doubted whether you could grasp even the most basic forms. I am glad to have been proven wrong."
I dismissed the shield and returned the bow. "Thank you, Master Mordo. I'm glad I could surpass your low expectations."
He chuckled. "Can you blame me? All I knew of you was your heroic career — I assumed you were a child playing at power. A student pretending to understand things far beyond his years. I am happy to know otherwise."
"So am I," I smiled.
"Yes, well — while you may have impressed me, I cannot say the same for her." He looked past me toward the courtyard. I followed his gaze to the group of white-robed novices, and among them — sitting very still, eyes closed and expression strained — was Felicia.
"She excels in the physical aspects of our training," Mordo said, "but she cannot seem to take hold of even the most basic magical exercises. A more personal approach may be what she needs." He looked at me pointedly. "Perhaps you could help."
I sighed. "I'll try."
"Master Mordo," Tandy called out as she approached us, now wearing crimson robes. "The Ancient One asks for your presence."
Mordo nodded. "I'll be there shortly, Roshanee." He turned and gave me a small nod. "You're dismissed for the rest of the day. I'll see you at dawn tomorrow."
I bowed. "Take care, Master."
Tandy and I watched him go. The moment he was out of earshot, she fell into step beside me and giggled. "You know, Ben and I have a wager going about whether or not Mordo and the Ancient One are secretly—"
I turned and blinked at her. "Seriously?"
"I say they are," she said, smug. "Ben says no — thinks it's purely professional."
I shrugged. "I think Ben's right. She's lived for centuries. I'm fairly sure romantic interest stopped being relevant around the third hundred years."
Tandy pouted. "You're both so boring."
I shrugged as we started toward the dormitories. Over my shoulder I caught a glimpse of Felicia sitting cross-legged in the courtyard, eyes closed, clearly fighting to focus. I closed my eyes and reached out through the mental bridge I had built between us. "Felicia — relax."
She startled. "Peter? God — I keep forgetting you can do that. First Jean, now you. I really need to learn this."
"You're trying too hard," I told her. "Stop forcing it. Let it come."
"That's easy for you to say."
I smiled and sent her a stream of memories — months of training, late nights, every breakthrough I'd had, and how I had always used the thought of her to anchor myself when everything else felt too big to hold. "I had someone to come back to."
No reply came through words. But I could see, across the courtyard, the tight line of her shoulders ease. A small smile found her face. She breathed differently.
"You're helping her again," Tandy said, following my gaze with a frown. "I still don't understand why you bother. She's not really suited for this."
"She's brilliant in her own right," I said. "She'll get there."
Tandy huffed. "Whatever."
I glanced at her. "You really shouldn't let your feelings about her cloud your judgment, Tandy. Why do you dislike her so much anyway?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you really asking me that?"
"...No. I suppose not."
"It just doesn't seem right," she said, quieter now. "You deserve better."
I stopped walking.
Tandy blinked as I turned and looked at her. "She has done a lot," I said carefully. "Sacrificed a great deal. Bled for me. Have I ever actually told you why she left?"
Tandy shook her head. "No."
"She did it to save my life," I said, then turned and kept walking.
A pause. The sound of her footsteps as she jogged to catch up. "What? What do you mean? What did she do?"
I turned to her and sighed. "I'm sorry I snapped. It's just...a lot to carry. Come on — I've been putting off having this conversation for a while anyway."
She nodded, and we made our way to my room.
It was properly cluttered now — loose pages of theorems, stacked texts, calculations pinned to every available surface. I pulled a chair out for Tandy and set a pot of water on the table, summoning a small magical circle beneath it to bring it to a boil.
"Do you remember when Spider-Man 'died' at Doom's hands?" I asked, settling across from her.
Tandy frowned. "Yeah. MJ and Liz said you went completely to pieces. I figured it was because Felicia had already left you by then."
I sighed. "That was...part of it. But the reason she left — the reason Doom got loose in the first place — was HYDRA."
Her eyes narrowed. "That nazi cult trying to control everything?"
"Yes." I nodded, applying a temperature-modification spell of my own design to bring the water to a rolling boil. "And everything that happened came back to them."
An hour later:
We finished our third cup. Tandy had barely moved the entire time, listening with complete attention to everything — why Felicia left, what it had cost both of us, what she had done to protect me and what it had taken for her to come back.
"So," Tandy said eventually, "you and her are in some sort of open relationship?"
"No, not exactly."
"Then where does Red fit in?"
"She's...she's part of it too," I said, hiding behind the last of my tea.
"So the three of you..."
"Yes."
"And Felicia's alright with that?"
"More than alright."
"And Jean..."
"Her idea, originally."
"And you?"
I exhaled. "Surprisingly at peace with it. I thought it would feel strange but...after everything we've been through together, I honestly can't picture a future that doesn't have both of them in it."
"And Wanda?" Tandy asked.
I waved a hand. "Friend. Just a friend."
Tandy shook her head. "No offence, Peter, but your life is genuinely bewildering."
"Yeah," I said. "You're telling me."
The dinner bell rang out. We packed up quickly and made our way to the mess hall, grabbing trays — one bowl of rice, some curry and a small cup of chicken or vegetables depending on preference — and eventually found Ben in his usual corner, nearly done eating.
We sat on either side of him. I nodded in greeting. He nodded back.
"Ben," I said, picking up a pair of chopsticks, "any progress with the spell work?"
He grunted — and for once it wasn't entirely dismissive. "Actually, kid, I think something's shifted." He held up his hand and closed his eyes. I watched, slowly, as the stone around his smallest finger began to crack and recede, revealing raw red skin beneath. Human skin.
"Ben," I breathed. "That's incredible."
"Few days ago," he said, as the stone settled back into place. He put his hand down, looking quietly tired. "And I can't hold it for long. All this time...and I've got a pinky to show for it."
"That's not nothing," Tandy said firmly, reaching over and touching his shoulder. "Progress is progress."
Ben smiled — the real kind. "Damn right it is. You're very sweet, you know that?" He ruffled her hair.
"Hey! Not the hair!" Tandy grumbled in a pout so endearing that both Ben and I laughed out loud.
"Well, you all seem to be enjoying yourselves," came a voice behind me. I looked up and smiled as Wanda and Jean approached with trays. Jean bent down and pressed a quiet kiss to the top of my head.
"How was your day?" she asked, settling beside me.
"Enlightening," I said. "Mordo's training is relentless, but effective. That man genuinely needs a holiday."
"Did Lightbright tell you about her bet?" Wanda asked, raising an eyebrow at a suddenly-sighing Tandy.
I nodded. "About Mordo and the Ancient One? Yes. I don't buy it — I think she's effectively asexual at this point. When you've watched everything you've ever cared about die for long enough, I imagine you eventually stop seeking that kind of connection."
"So you're saying immortality sounds terrible," Wanda said.
"I think it sounds lonely," I said, then caught myself and went quiet.
Because I hadn't finished the thought. I didn't need to. Jean reached over and took my hand under the table without a word.
I looked at her. She raised an eyebrow gently. I had been thinking about it more and more — the slow, creeping arithmetic of my own extended lifespan. Logan aged glacially. So did I. And unlike him, the metal in my system was minimal enough that it wouldn't poison me. I would keep going for a very long time.
Jean squeezed my hand. I smiled and let it go. "Look at it this way," I said, quietly enough that only she heard me. "I'll always be there for our kids. They'll never grow up without a parent."
Jean laughed softly, surprised despite herself. "That is genuinely the darkest thing you've ever said."
I shrugged. "It's my style."
"Would you two stop doing that?" Wanda pointed her chopsticks at us. "It's rude to have a private conversation in front of people."
"I won't apologise for talking with my boyfriend," Jean said, the word sending a small, involuntary warmth through me. I still smiled every time she said it.
"'Boyfriend,'" Tandy repeated quietly, then shook her head. "Right. Speaking of which — where's the third of your trio?"
I blinked and looked around. "Where is she? Jean — have you seen Felicia?"
Jean shook her head. "Wanda and I were in the library all afternoon. Why — do you think something's wrong?"
"No," I said, already rising. "I know exactly where she is." I kissed Jean on the cheek, exchanged a nod with the others, and pulled out my sling ring. A circle of spinning gold sparks opened in front of me.
I stepped through into the courtyard.
The evening air was cool and still. A few white-robed initiates were still at their meditation. And there, sitting exactly where I had last seen her that afternoon — right in the centre of the courtyard, eyes closed, jaw set — was Felicia.
She hadn't moved.
I smiled quietly and sat down beside her without a word.
I watched her. The concentration in her face, the effort she was pouring into something she had no instinct for and refused to give up on. I found myself thinking about how this had all started — me chasing after a cat burglar across rooftops, a girl who fell for the person beneath the mask long before she admitted it to herself. How she had left to protect me, and how she had come back in spite of everything. And now here she was, in a monastery in Nepal, learning magic, just to walk the same path as Jean and me.
I was so proud of her it almost hurt.
I closed my eyes and reached gently into the bridge between our minds. She flinched, then settled when she recognised me. I sent her memories — the same ones I had shared earlier, and more. Our rooftop fights. Our first Christmas. The Christmas I had spent without her. Every reason I loved her, every reason I loved Jean, every moment that had made the two of them worth fighting for.
She shared back. Her memories of the two of us — small things and large ones, moments she had saved and carried. And then the months she had spent away from me, every sleepless night, wanting nothing more than to be close enough to help protect me.
I reached out and took her hand. She opened her eyes.
She looked at me. I pressed my sling ring into her palm and closed her fingers around it. She knew what I was asking.
"Don't force it," I said. "Let it come to you. Give in to it — the way you gave in to me, the way I gave in to you."
She nodded. I stepped back — twenty feet, then more.
"Come to me," I said.
She raised her hand. She began to turn it, slowly, the sling ring working in slow circles as she let go and let her instincts do what concentration never quite could.
At first, nothing.
A spark. Then nothing again.
"Gah!" Felicia snapped her hand down. "This is impossible!" She dropped her head, frustration radiating off her.
I crossed to her. I lifted her chin with two fingers and looked her in the eye.
"Kitten," I said quietly. "I believe in you. I know you can do this — because once you've decided something is possible, there's nothing you can't make happen. Try again."
I stepped back. Further this time.
She looked at her hands. She breathed. When her eyes opened again, there was iron in them.
She raised her hand and began to turn it.
And this time — a circle of energy sparked and caught, spinning alive in the air before her. The portal blazed open.
She stepped through — and stumbled on the landing, the sudden shift in height catching her off guard. I caught her by the hip.
"You did it," I said.
"I did it!" she cried, then immediately clapped a hand over her mouth as someone nearby shushed us loudly.
"Sorry," she whispered. She looked up at me, laughing quietly, and reached up to kiss me. "Thank you."
"Anytime," I said. "Come on — it's late, and you haven't eaten."
"I really haven't," she grumbled.
We turned to go back inside — and my spider-sense went off like a siren.
I stopped cold.
Felicia noticed immediately. "What's wrong?"
I closed my eyes and activated Web Vision.
The threads of magic spread out in every direction, a web of light and energy permeating the monastery. Dozens of auras, dozens of signatures — students, masters, the building itself. But among them, one burned brighter than everything else. A blazing green that dwarfed the rest, unlike anything I had ever seen with this ability.
The Time Stone.
The Eye of Agamotto was being activated.
And I knew instantly what that meant. Strange was using it — which meant Kaecilius was moving. The Doctor Strange plot was beginning. Right now.
I turned to Felicia. "Something is happening. Get Jean and the others — now!"
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"To find the Ancient One. Go — tell her as well, she needs to know." I broke away at a run.
"Peter!" she called after me.
"I'll be fine!" I kept running, heading straight to the library. It was empty — no Wong, no Mordo.
That meant they were already downstairs at the transport room with the sanctum gateways. I went down two at a time and sure enough, there they were — Wong, Mordo and Strange, the last of them now wearing the Eye of Agamotto around his neck with the expression of a man who had just been handed a live grenade.
"You were born for the mystic arts," Mordo was telling him.
"Yet my hands still shake," Strange replied.
Wong nodded. "For now."
"But not forever?"
"We're not prophets," Mordo said.
"Then maybe start telling me what we actually are." Strange's voice had an edge to it. Mordo and Wong exchanged an uncertain look.
"It's time," I said.
They turned. Strange narrowed his eyes — we had never really spoken properly. The man had kept deliberately apart from the rest of the monastery's disciples, and this was genuinely the first time the two of us had shared a space for anything beyond a shared lesson.
Wong sighed and gestured for us to follow him into the inner chamber where the Eye had rested on its pedestal.
"While people like the Avengers and our friend here safeguard the world against physical threats," Wong began, "we sorcerers protect it from something older. Something stranger." He approached the dais and rotated the discs there, lighting up the great globe above us and illuminating a web of mystic lines crisscrossing the planet.
"The Ancient One is the latest in a long line of Sorcerer Supremes," he continued, "a tradition stretching back thousands of years to the father of the mystic arts, Agamotto the Mighty — the same sorcerer who created the Eye you so casually borrowed."
Strange had the good grace to look away with only a small smirk. Mordo's expression said everything about what he thought of that.
"Agamotto created three sanctums," Wong said, indicating the globe. "Built in places of great power, where great cities now stand — New York, London, and Hong Kong. Together, they form a barrier protecting this world."
"We protect the sanctums," Mordo added.
"From what?" Strange asked.
"Dimensional entities that would consume our universe," Wong replied.
"Like Dormammu?" Strange asked.
I shrugged. "To name one."
Strange looked at me. "You've dealt with this kind of thing before?"
"My old master and I fought a demon once," I said. "I'd rather not say the name — if I do, he'll know we're talking about him. Needless to say, we barely made it out."
"Wait," Mordo said, turning. "Strange, where did you hear that name?"
Strange blinked. "It was in the Book of Time. Why?"
Wong and Mordo looked at each other, and then began to explain at length exactly who and what Dormammu was. I gave the explanation half my attention. I had heard it before.
When they finished, Strange squinted. "So the pages Kaecilius stole—"
"Were a method to contact and draw power from the Dark Dimension," Wong confirmed.
Strange stared at all three of us. Then he chuckled — the laugh of a man who still expected someone to tell him this was a joke. When no one did, his expression shifted. "Okay. I came here to heal my hands. Not to fight a mystical war."
"Of course you did," I said, mostly to myself. I preferred my older Strange — the one who knew things, who had already stopped being surprised by the universe. This one was still running on surgical arrogance and good hair.
Wong looked as if he was about to say something. Then a bell began to ring.
Mordo and Wong went rigid. They knew that sound.
"London," Wong said.
We all turned to the sanctum door — and it was thrown open from within. The master protecting it came staggering through, a transparent crystal blade embedded in his chest before he could even cross the threshold.
"Kaecilius!" Wong cried out as the former master sent a detonation of energy crashing outward, and what had been the London Sanctum was gone.
The backlash hit us like a wall. I was already moving — I threw myself sideways and caught Strange by the arm, and then we were both launched backward through the New York Sanctum doorway as the portal collapsed behind us.
The two of us landed hard in the corridor.
"Wong?" Strange gasped, getting to his feet and staring at the dead portal. He turned to me. "What just happened?"
I breathed through the impact. Looked at the solid stone wall where the portal had been.
"I think," I said slowly, "we're on our own."
We were in the plot of Doctor Strange now. I knew how this part was supposed to go.
I just intended to make sure it went differently.