Alison Blaire wasn't just a mutant icon; she was the undisputed queen of global pop music. Her mutation was a concert promoter's ultimate, impossible dream: the biological ability to transduce kinetic sound waves into solid, blindingly beautiful light constructs.
Sure, she could theoretically focus those photons into high-yield lasers capable of melting through reinforced steel vaults, but practically? She used her powers to turn stadium tours into sensory masterpieces. Every note she hit, every pitch she shifted, generated a cascading, real-time light show that synchronized perfectly with her vocal cords.
She could also fly, which definitely didn't hurt ticket sales.
The only logistical downside to an Alison Blaire concert was the sheer, crushing mass of humanity—or in this case, mutant-kind—that showed up to watch.
The Genoshan outdoor amphitheater was packed beyond maximum capacity. The air was thick with the smell of ozone, expensive perfume, and sweat. The crowd was a chaotic, elbow-to-elbow sea of shifting scales, glowing skin, and massive wingspans.
Wanda Maximoff was currently being treated like a pinball.
She shrank her shoulders inward, clutching the lapels of her red jacket as a massive, four-armed mutant accidentally backed into her. The ambient roar of the crowd waiting for the opening act was deafening. Wanda winced, her eyes darting around the claustrophobic wall of bodies pressing in from all sides.
Seeing her panic, Peter didn't hesitate. He reached out, grabbing her wrist, and pulled her firmly through a narrow gap in the crowd, dragging them toward the slightly less suffocating edge of the general admission floor.
"Oh, my god," Wanda gasped, catching her breath as she leaned against a concrete barricade. "I have never actually been to a live concert before. I had absolutely no idea there would be this many people."
She looked around the writhing, shouting throng of mutants, her expression completely overwhelmed. "And it's so incredibly loud."
"Not a fan of the mosh pit?" Peter asked, leaning against the barricade next to her.
"No, it's not that. I've just never experienced anything like this," Wanda said, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and sensory overload. "I usually stay inside the palace reading. Even when I go into the city, I avoid the dense commercial sectors. I really didn't expect to get crushed. I am so sorry for dragging you into this."
"Hey, don't apologize," Peter laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've never been to a Dazzler show either. If I knew it was going to be standing-room-only sardines, I would have warned you. We just didn't plan ahead."
Peter scanned the massive, open-air venue. His eyes landed on the towering, sheer concrete perimeter walls enclosing the amphitheater.
He tapped his chin. "Do the venue security rules say anything about standing on those walls?"
"Not technically, no," Wanda said, following his gaze. "A lot of mutants with adhesive or flight abilities usually perch on the top ridge to watch the show. But if you look up there, the top is already packed shoulder-to-shoulder."
"I didn't say on top of the wall," Peter smirked, leaning closer so she could hear him over the crowd noise. "I said on the wall."
Wanda blinked in confusion. "Are you ready?" Peter asked, extending his hand.
A sudden surge in the crowd pushed a group of teenagers backward, shoving Wanda directly into Peter's chest. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist to keep from falling.
"Um. Is this okay?" Wanda stammered, her face burning red.
"Hold on tight," Peter warned.
He didn't use his web-shooters. Firing a bright white web-line would instantly flag him as Spider-Man to the thousands of mutants below. Instead, he mentally tapped the symbiote.
Sleek, obsidian-black tendrils slipped out from beneath Peter's civilian jacket. They rapidly wove themselves together, forming a pair of compact, razor-thin glider wings across his back. With a powerful, localized leap that he carefully masked in the chaotic crowd, Peter launched them straight up the sheer concrete face of the perimeter wall.
Sixty feet in the air, the symbiote acted on Peter's command. A thick mass of black alien tissue extruded from his spine, anchoring violently into the concrete. The biomatter rapidly expanded and flattened out, forming a smooth, highly stable balcony ledge jutting directly out of the vertical wall, just large enough for two people to sit comfortably.
You're welcome, Venom's smug voice rumbled in Peter's head.
"So... Spider-Man can actually fly?" Wanda asked, her eyes wide as Peter gently set her down on the black ledge.
"No, not exactly," Peter chuckled, taking a seat beside her, his legs dangling over the massive drop. "That's my partner doing the heavy lifting. It's an alien symbiote. A few weeks ago, a whole hive of these things invaded New York."
Wanda's mouth formed a small 'o' of realization. "Oh. I remember the news broadcasts. The giant Spider-Man physically wrestling the alien dragon over the skyscrapers."
"Yeah, that was us," Peter smiled.
Down below, the stadium lights suddenly cut out. The crowd erupted into a deafening, unified roar of anticipation. From their secluded vantage point on the wall, the noise was manageable, turning from a physical assault into a low, thrumming vibration.
"Much better view up here, right?" Peter asked.
Wanda smoothed her skirt, leaning back against the cool concrete. She smiled, looking down at the sea of glowing, shifting mutants. "Yes. It's perfect."
Peter casually scanned the crowd below, his enhanced vision picking out individual faces in the dark. He actually spotted a few members of the New Mutants squad wandering near the exit gates. He didn't panic. Even Kitty Pryde didn't know what his actual face looked like under the mask, and Wanda had only arrived at the airport after the X-Men students had already left for their tour. Their cover was entirely safe.
Down on the ground floor, Dani Moonstar was severely regretting her life choices.
"Kitty, are we seriously staying in this?" Dani groaned, pressing her hands over her ears. The claustrophobia was making her chest tight.
Kitty Pryde stood next to her, looking completely relaxed. Thanks to her phasing mutation, the crushing crowd was literally passing harmlessly through her shoulders and torso like ghosts. It didn't feel crowded to her at all.
"What? You don't think this is fun?!" Kitty shouted over the noise, her eyes bright. "There are always massive crowds at live shows! You just have to let loose, Dani!"
The rest of their squad had already abandoned ship. Sunspot and Cannonball, the two teenage boys, had taken one look at the suffocating density of the crowd and strategically bailed, deciding to go find a quieter place to try and talk to girls. Wolfsbane, possessing hypersensitive canine hearing, had violently rejected the idea of listening to high-decibel pop music and retreated to the palace hours ago.
Dani had only tagged along because she didn't want Kitty wandering around an unfamiliar foreign nation by herself. But right now, her loyalty was wearing incredibly thin.
Seeing her best friend physically trembling from the sensory overload, Kitty finally dropped her upbeat facade. She sighed, reaching out to grab Dani's hand.
"Alright, alright. I'll walk you out to the perimeter gates so you can get some air, and then I'm coming right back in," Kitty promised.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay by yourself?" Dani asked nervously as Kitty phased them both smoothly through a wall of heavily armored mutants.
"Dani, literally nobody can touch me," Kitty laughed, shaking her head. "What exactly is going to happen? You think some Genoshan kidnapper is going to throw a bag over a girl who can walk through bank vaults?"
Dani finally nodded, accepting the logic. As Kitty dropped her off near the quieter exterior gates, Dani looked back toward the stadium. Her eyes drifted up the massive concrete perimeter wall. She squinted, spotting a small, black outcropping jutting out from the sheer brick near the top.
"Man," Dani muttered, pointing up. "I really wish we could watch the concert from a spot like that."
Kitty followed her gaze. She could barely make out the silhouettes of a guy in a gray jacket and a girl with red hair sitting together on the ledge.
"Looks like some young couple built their own private VIP section," Kitty shrugged helplessly. "You gotta have the right mutation to get up there, Dani. We don't have suction cups, and we definitely can't fly. We're stuck on the ground."
Kitty waved goodbye and phased back through the stadium gates just as the massive subwoofers kicked in.
The heavy, rhythmic bass vibrated the actual foundations of the stadium. As Dazzler's voice echoed through the massive speakers, the kinetic sound waves instantly converted into a blinding, magnificent aurora borealis that washed over the entire amphitheater. Dazzling waves of pink, blue, and gold light danced and pulsed in perfect synchronization with the music.
Sitting high up on the wall, Peter rested his elbows on his knees. It really was easier to enjoy the spectacle from a distance. The blinding light effects painted a beautiful, shifting canvas over the stadium, and the deafening volume was reduced to a perfect, cinematic soundtrack.
He glanced sideways. The vibrant, shifting colors reflected brightly in Wanda's eyes. She wasn't looking at the stage. She was looking down at the crowd—at the thousands of mutants dancing, laughing, and existing without fear.
"This is the first time I've ever seen so many of our people gathered together in one place so clearly," Wanda said, her voice soft, carrying a profound weight. "I know millions of people live on this island. But seeing them all like this... so happy, so free. It's rare."
She looked at Peter, a genuine, hopeful smile gracing her lips. "Perhaps my father truly has created a paradise for us. I know it isn't perfect. I know the methods were harsh. But at least..."
Wanda trailed off.
Peter wasn't looking at her anymore. His spine had gone entirely rigid.
A cold, sharp needle of electricity pricked the base of his skull. His Spider-Sense wasn't screaming in full-blown panic, but it was definitely vibrating, a low, persistent warning thrumming through his nervous system.
Peter frowned, his brow furrowing. He looked up, past the stage, toward the very top ridge of the concrete wall above them.
The mutants who had been perching on the wall, cheering and waving their hands to Dazzler's music, were suddenly stopping. One by one, they lowered their hands. They were all turning around, looking away from the blinding light show of the concert, staring out into the dark, glittering Genoshan skyline.
Something completely unexpected was happening in the city.
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