(Marvel, DC, images, manhuas, and every anime that will be mentioned and used in this story are not mine. They all belong to their respective owners. The main character "Karito/Adriel Josue Valdez" and the story are mine)
Sunday. Midday. Almost Lunch.
Peter POV
If this were a few centuries ago, I'd probably be a nervous wreck.
Back when I was new to this whole Guardian of Fiction thing. Back when I still second-guessed every step and tried too hard to be the Peter Parker everyone expected. Back when I still thought being nervous made me normal.
Now?
I just breathe.
The world around me pulses with quiet hums of information. The sidewalk beneath my feet—fictional. The trees, the breeze, the birds, the bustle—they're all coded. Crafted. Layers of narrative built on top of other narratives, and yet somehow... still charming.
And me?
Just a guy.
A guy walking toward a meet-up with five magical girls who have no idea that I knew they where magical girls. Or that the guy they're about to meet has already seen their story play out a dozen different ways. The irony isn't lost on me. I used to be in their position—oblivious, hopeful, colorful.
Now I'm just... black and white.
Literally.
The symbiote curled around me earlier like it always does. I didn't have to pick clothes from a closet or check for wrinkles. I just stood in front of the mirror and thought. And with a low ripple, it morphed around me like liquid fabric—seamless, matte, and form-fitted.
A cream-white, thick-knit turtleneck sweater formed first, loose but defined, the threads heavy and warm, stitched with deliberate bulk to highlight my frame. Relaxed, but presentable. The kind of outfit that says "Hey, I'm cool, but not trying too hard."
Then came the jeans—light blue, stylishly distressed at the knees, hugging my legs with just enough give to look casual without screaming thirst trap. Rolled at the ankles to show just the right amount of sockless edge.
Finally, the sneakers—pristine white with gray accents, sculpted with soft leather the symbiote remembered from some Milan fashion magazine it ate once. Because why not.
A silver watch wrapped around my wrist. It didn't tell time. It didn't need to. It was just part of the look.
And my hair? Tousled. Wind-swept but not messy. The symbiote even made sure I smelled like cedarwood and bergamot.
The cheat code of fashion.
I stepped past the fountain and toward the large plaza in front of the mall. Shops lined the edges—cafes, boutiques, screens playing ads—but none of that mattered. What mattered was the group waiting ahead.
All five of them.
I could already feel their presence—bright, blinding, and wonderfully loud.
Lux was standing just off-center, fidgeting with her fingers, pretending not to check her phone every five seconds. Her light was... fractured lately. Not broken. Just confused. But still brilliant. Still warm.
Jinx was beside her, chewing on a lollipop and bouncing on her heels, half turned like she didn't care, fully alert like she definitely did. She wore that same feral grin she had the first time she stole Lux's phone. I could see her finger hovering over her message app, like she was still debating whether to send one last chaotic emoji before I arrived.
Poppy was standing with her arms crossed. Predictable. The very picture of guarded suspicion. She scanned every person that walked by, narrowing her eyes at every tall guy in the vicinity. She was ready to throw a shield before I even said hi.
Lulu twirled her wand lazily in the air, more amused than anything. Curious, but not worried. To her, this was probably just another dream moment. Another spark in her beautifully strange world. Her light was steady, even when it flickered sideways.
And Janna... oh, Janna.
She didn't move much. Just watched. Calculating. Eyes calm, like oceans right before a storm. Her presence was quiet, but the wind around her already knew I was coming.
I exhaled once, straightened my shoulders, and made my way forward.
Here we go.
This wasn't a mission.
Not exactly.
But if connecting with them made my job easier—if it helped me protect them from what was coming—then I'd lean into every second of it.
Even if it meant playing the part of the charming stranger.
Even if it meant pretending I wasn't scared of the shadows I saw in their future.
Even if it meant lying through my teeth about who I was.
Peter Parker. College student. Kind of a nerd. Good with science. Likes pastries. Possibly hot.
That was the persona.
That's who they knew.
And for now?
That's who I'd be.
Because as much as the symbiote wrapped around me like armor, as much as my powers had grown beyond the boundaries of their reality... I still wanted to make them laugh. I still wanted them to feel like I was someone they could trust.
Because if I earned that trust now... maybe I'd be able to save them later.
From what's coming.
From who's watching.
From what's already here.
So I shoved my hands in my pockets, offered a lazy smile, and walked toward them—toward the chaos, toward the light, toward the next chapter.
And for once?
I didn't feel alone.
No POV
The midday sun cast soft golden rays over the front plaza of Valoran City's bustling downtown mall, painting shadows across the sleek stone tiles and glinting off the glass panels above. Hovering ad banners drifted lazily through the air, flashing promotions and colorful displays that failed to capture the attention of the five girls standing in a semi-circle near the water fountain.
They weren't here to shop. Not really.
They were waiting.
A week's worth of texts, giggles, teasing, suspicion, and confusion had all led to this moment. Their mission today wasn't a patrol. It was to meet the mystery boy who had—somehow—crawled his way into Lux and Jinx's minds like a song they couldn't stop humming.
Peter Parker.
Then, like clockwork, the soft scuff of sneakers on concrete broke the lull.
He walked into view—casually, naturally, like he belonged there. But there was something... subtle about him. The way his dark jeans hugged his legs, torn in all the stylish spots, rolled at the ankles just above pristine white sneakers. The ribbed knit of his ivory sweater clung to his torso, highlighting a build that neither screamed "meathead" nor "bookworm," but some disarming blend of both. His sleeves were pushed just enough to show the watch on his wrist. His hair, tousled yet deliberate, caught the breeze like it had been designed for dramatic entrances.
Peter gave a small wave as he approached.
"Hope I'm not late," he said, voice smooth, casual, almost melodic. The kind that didn't try to impress, but somehow still did.
Lux lit up first.
Not in the magical girl sparkle sort of way—but in the subtle, unmistakable shift of someone genuinely happy to see someone again. She waved back almost too fast, like her body reacted before her mind could stop it. There was that nervous energy around her again. A tension in her shoulders mixed with a grin she couldn't smother even if she tried. She'd spent the entire morning panicking about what to wear, trying five different outfits and rejecting all of them until she finally settled for the casual-but-cute combo she had on now. And now that he was here? It all felt worth it.
Jinx, meanwhile, whistled low.
She leaned on one foot, arms crossed, eyes narrowed—but in that playful, calculating way she used when sizing up a new weapon or a particularly spicy meme. "Well, well, well. He's real," she muttered loud enough for Lux to hear, elbowing her. "And damn, sweater boy came dressed to impress."
Peter grinned. "I was told I'd be meeting royalty."
"You're meeting chaos incarnate," Jinx fired back with a crooked smirk.
If Lux was the sunshine, Jinx was the wildfire—and both seemed to have grown fond of the strange wind named Peter.
But the remaining three weren't as quick to melt.
Poppy stepped forward with arms folded, eyeing Peter up and down like a general inspecting a new recruit. Her expression was neutral. Not hostile. Just... measuring. The way a hammer might weigh its impact before swinging. "So you're the guy," she said, blunt as always.
Peter nodded. "Guilty."
Poppy squinted. "We've been hearing a lot about you."
Peter didn't flinch. "All lies. Except the good parts."
Poppy didn't laugh, but her brow lifted—just slightly. A silent acknowledgment. Bold. Confident. Not trying too hard. She could respect that. Still, she wasn't sold. Not yet.
Janna, standing slightly behind the group, was more difficult to read.
She had always been the quiet observer, the soft wind that rustled the trees without anyone noticing. Her ocean-blue eyes watched Peter with a kind of gentle suspicion. Not cold—but not open either. She tilted her head, as if trying to peer through him, beneath the surface, past the smile and charm. Janna had seen many people pass through their lives—some with light, others with shadows. And though Peter's aura was difficult to read—almost... out of sync with this world—it didn't feel hostile.
Still, she remained silent. Watching.
And then there was Lulu.
"Ohhh!" she gasped, bouncing slightly on her heels. "He's tall! I told you he'd be tall!"
She darted forward like a skipping sprite and peered up at Peter, all sparkles and curiosity. "Hi! I'm Lulu! You smell like waffles and rainy windows!"
Peter blinked. "Uh... thanks?"
She giggled. "That's a good thing. Promise."
And just like that, one of them had instantly accepted him without any barriers. Lulu never played by social rules. She followed her own tune. And to her, Peter passed the vibe check with flying colors.
With all five girls now around him, Peter kept his composure—guarded just enough to seem cool, open just enough to seem real. His Guardian aura made him naturally likable to them, drawing out emotional resonance without any of them realizing it. But even so, Peter was careful. He didn't want to fake his way through this.
He wanted to mean it.
"Alright," he said, clapping his hands softly. "So what's the plan? Mall raid? Coffee shop invasion? Or do I just sit here and pass more inspection rounds?"
"Inspection's not over yet," Poppy muttered.
"We're still deciding if we like you," Jinx teased.
"He's growing on me," Lulu chimed.
"Like moss," Janna said quietly, almost amused.
Lux shook her head with a groan. "You guys are impossible."
Peter just smiled.
He knew what this was.
He wasn't just meeting five random girls.
He was walking into the heart of a sisterhood. A team forged through determination.
They didn't need saving. They weren't damsels in distress.
They were stars.
And he wasn't here to outshine them.
He was here to keep the darkness from swallowing them whole.
But for now?
He'd settle for a coffee and keeping up with their banter.
The mall air was crisp with the soft aroma of fresh pastries and overpriced coffee beans, the warm buzz of casual weekend chatter filtering through the open-air atrium. The group of five girls stood out like neon stars in a world of dim bulbs—vibrant, lively, and completely in sync in their own unique dissonance.
Peter walked beside them, keeping pace easily despite the curious mix of tension and comfort hanging in the air. Jinx and Lux walked closest to him, the former practically glued to his side with a playful, elbow-bumping rhythm, and the latter a few steps away, nervously twisting a strand of her hair while sneaking glances in his direction when she thought he wasn't looking.
The Starbucks came into view, nestled between a boutique fashion store and a bookstore with glowing displays. Jinx led the charge, kicking the glass door open with her foot like she owned the place. Peter followed, and the rest trailed behind, the formation oddly balanced between mission and social call.
Once inside, the rich scent of espresso and vanilla washed over them.
Peter offered a casual smile and raised a hand. "So, I guess this is where I prove I'm not secretly a cyborg, right?"
Lulu giggled immediately, eyes sparkling. "Ooh! That'd be cool though! Can your arms turn into blenders?"
Peter laughed. "Only on weekends."
Janna raised a brow, her calm, ethereal demeanor unreadable. She didn't sit right away, instead opting to watch him, like a scholar studying an anomaly. Her posture was composed, her silence weighty. It was the kind of scrutiny one didn't notice unless they had something to hide. Peter noticed.
Poppy crossed her arms, hovering just behind Janna. She wasn't outright hostile—but she didn't need to be. Her stance screamed, "I'm watching you." And not in the friendly, curious kind of way. More like a bodyguard trying to determine if someone had brought poison to a tea party.
Jinx was the opposite. She spun in one of the counter stools, half-lounging across the small table they claimed while typing something on her phone—probably more memes to flood Peter with later. "Alright, everyone pick your potions. First round's on me," she said, tossing her card onto the table with flair.
"I thought you were broke," Poppy muttered.
"I am," Jinx replied cheerfully. "But this is for science."
Lux quietly placed her order, going for a caramel macchiato. Jinx went for something excessively sugary. Lulu ordered a seasonal drink topped with glittery whipped cream. Poppy got black coffee, and Janna ordered herbal tea—of course.
Peter, smiling to himself, stepped up last. "Just a cold brew. Classic, uncomplicated."
"Boring," Jinx said from behind him.
"Reliable," he countered.
They gathered around a small circular table by the window, drinks in hand, sun painting golden strips across their faces. The mood shifted.
This wasn't just five girls anymore. This was Lux biting the edge of her cup, trying to think of what to say that didn't sound like fangirling. This was Jinx kicking Peter lightly under the table just to see if he'd flinch (he didn't). This was Lulu twirling her straw while talking about her pet moth collection. And Peter? He somehow managed to keep up with every conversation like he'd been part of this chaos all along.
Janna finally spoke. "So, Peter Parker."
He turned to her calmly. "That's me."
"You're not from around here."
"I get that a lot," he said easily, sipping his cold brew. "New guy aura, I guess."
"Where'd you come from?" Poppy asked, cutting in.
Peter paused for half a second, then grinned. "Out east. Real boring town. Less coffee, more cornfields. I arrived to Valoran City about a week ago."
That wasn't a lie. Not completely. His existence in this world are fabricated, sure, but the story fit.
"So you just happened to bump into Lux at a pastry shop?" Janna pressed.
"Yep," he said, leaning back. "She looked like she was about to pass out from cupcake-induced existential crisis. I intervened. A public service."
Lux covered her face with one hand. "He's exaggerating."
"Am I?"
Jinx threw a sugar packet at him. "Okay, I hate how good you are at this."
Peter caught the sugar packet without looking and flicked it back at her. "Good at what?"
"Talking! Deflecting! Being... weirdly charming! Like—stop it!"
He laughed, raising both hands. "Hey, I'm just here for coffee."
Poppy narrowed her eyes. "You're too smooth."
"I moisturize," he replied with a straight face.
Lulu burst out laughing.
Lux finally leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. "Okay, real talk. How are you not overwhelmed right now? We're kind of a lot."
Peter met her eyes, and for a second, the charm faded into something a bit softer. "Who says I'm not overwhelmed? I'm just hiding it better than most."
The table quieted a bit, the group realizing they were no longer tiptoeing around social cues. The banter had turned into something organic. Comfortable.
Janna studied Peter again, less like a puzzle and more like a strange riddle with no answer key. "You're interesting."
Peter smiled. "Takes one to know one."
The rest of the coffee break went by in a blur of laughter, shared photos, accidental spills (Jinx), and curious glances. It was clear Peter wasn't just passing through their lives. Whether they realized it or not, he was already orbiting their world.
And the gravity was mutual.
For now, it was just coffee.
Jinx was the first to break the silence again, dragging her seat closer to Peter's. "Okay, tell the truth—do you always walk around like you just stepped off a runway, or is today special?"
Peter smirked. "Oh, definitely special. I made sure to match my socks and everything."
Lux giggled into her drink. "That... sounds like something you'd do."
"Careful," Peter warned lightly. "Too much praise and I'll start thinking I have a fan club."
"Oh, please," Jinx rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. "You wish."
"I dunno," Lulu chimed in, sipping her glitter-covered drink. "I think we're already halfway to designing his logo. Something like a moth in sunglasses."
Peter tilted his head at her. "Moths, huh?"
"She's got a thing," Lux explained.
"I don't judge," Peter said. "You should see what my roommate back home collects. He once tried to knit with... never mind. That's a horror story."
"Now you're just teasing," Janna said, leaning forward slightly. "You talk like someone who's hiding something."
"Don't we all?" he replied.
Janna's eyes narrowed. "Not like you."
"Okay, okay," Jinx interrupted before things turned weird. "Let's play a game. Two truths and a lie. Classic get-to-know-you nonsense."
"I'm in," Lulu said, bouncing in her chair.
Peter nodded. "Alright. I'll go first." He held up his fingers, counting. "One: I once fell out of a second-story window and landed on a trampoline. Two: I speak five languages. Three: I hate pizza."
Lux immediately frowned. "The third one's a lie."
"Definitely," Jinx said. "No way someone with a face like that hates pizza."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "What does my face have to do with pizza?"
"You've got 'pepperoni lover' written all over you," Jinx grinned.
Poppy shook her head. "That's a weird thing to say."
Peter chuckled. "She's right though. I love pizza. The trampoline one is the lie. It was a dumpster."
Lulu gasped. "You fell in a dumpster?"
"Long story. Not glamorous."
"Okay, my turn," Jinx said, pointing at him. "Have you ever broken someone's heart?"
"Whoa," Peter raised his eyebrows. "That escalated fast."
"Answer the question, tiger."
Peter smirked faintly. "Not on purpose."
That one made Janna and Poppy glance at each other.
Lux smiled quietly, watching the way Peter handled everything. Like it wasn't just natural—it was crafted. Perfectly poised. Too perfect.
"Alright, Poppy," Jinx nudged her. "Your turn to grill the newbie."
Poppy didn't blink. "What's your worst fear?"
Peter looked down at his drink for a moment. His fingers tapped the paper cup.
"Losing people," he said simply. "And not realizing it until it's too late."
That shut the table up for a solid five seconds.
Lulu softly whispered, "That's... kinda heavy."
Peter smiled again, softer this time. "Sorry. Wasn't trying to be a downer."
"No," Lux said, finally finding her voice. "That was... honest."
Little did she know...
Peter sipped his drink again, changing the subject. "Okay, real question now: who has the weirdest habit here?"
All fingers pointed to Lulu.
"Rude," she huffed.
"She talks to her moths like they're roommates," Jinx said.
"They are," Lulu insisted.
Peter leaned in. "Do they pay rent?"
"They pay in cuddles."
Poppy actually cracked a smile.
Janna, however, was still watching Peter closely. Her mind was full of quiet notes and careful math. Every answer he gave felt... measured. It wasn't that he didn't seem real—it was that he seemed too adapted. As if he'd already anticipated them. As if he knew.
He's been deflecting personal questions since the second he sat down, she thought.
Still, she couldn't deny it. He was... likable. Dangerous, maybe. But likable.
Poppy's thoughts were more defensive. If he hurts Lux—or Jinx—I swear I'll punch him into next Tuesday.
Lulu, of course, was thinking about whether Peter would enjoy her homemade glitter cookies. He seems like a cookie guy.
Jinx, on the other hand, had her head resting on one palm, her smile relaxed but playful. Okay, so he's funny, knew that, kind of hot, knew that, and makes me forget my impulse to set things on fire. That's new.
Lux had gone quiet again, just watching. He's... she didn't even know the word. Warm? Mysterious? Too cool? She didn't want to think about it too hard. It just felt nice. Easy.
"So," Peter said, tilting his cup. "What's next on this little chaos tour?"
"Oh!" Lulu perked up. "There's an arcade upstairs!"
"Seconded," Jinx said immediately. "I need to destroy someone at rhythm games."
"I'm game," Peter said, standing and tossing his empty cup into the trash without looking.
Of course, it landed perfectly.
Janna narrowed her eyes.
Lux blushed.
Jinx punched his arm lightly. "Okay, now you're just showing off."
Peter smiled without a word.
And just like that, the Starbucks chapter of their hangout drew to a close.
But the day was far from over.
The group emerged from Starbucks in a scatter of footsteps and half-laughed words, still riding the buzz of coffee and camaraderie. The mall felt warmer now, brighter even, as if the very air around them had taken note of the chaos in their orbit. Peter adjusted his sleeves, his casual outfit smooth and effortless as always, and followed the five girls up the escalator.
Second floor. Arcade.
Bright neon lights and chiptune music greeted them, a stark contrast to the soft jazz and quiet clinks of coffee cups from before. The moment they stepped in, it was like being thrown into another dimension—one filled with flashing screens, cheering crowds, and the constant, chaotic pulse of fun.
"Okay!" Jinx yelled, already bolting toward the rhythm game machines. "Claiming this one! But you're all going down later!"
Peter chuckled. "Dibs on surviving."
But before the rhythm showdown, the chaos split into smaller moments—one for each of them.
Peter and Janna found themselves standing in front of a game titled Aeon Pulse, its screen pulsing with neon-blue light, as if it were alive. It didn't scream excitement like the other loud, over-the-top arcade cabinets. Instead, it whispered a challenge—a calm, calculated dare. Janna's kind of game.
She tilted her head slightly, long silver hair cascading over her shoulder as her cool gaze flicked to Peter. "You sure you can keep up?"
Peter smiled without teeth, the kind of grin that said he already had. He picked up the second blaster with ease, spinning it once before settling into position beside her. "Don't blink."
The game booted up, the machine humming like a starship engine. The screen transformed into a sci-fi dreamscape: alien planets, collapsing nebulas, shimmering moons. Holographic enemies blinked in and out of existence, darting across the field like starlight.
And then the shooting began.
Janna moved with eerie elegance, her form like a waltz of movement and intent. Her shots were not rapid but deliberate, chosen with surgical precision. Every bolt found its mark. Her expression remained serene, the quiet storm behind her eyes reading patterns and rhythms only she could see.
Peter, on the other hand, was chaos wrapped in grace. His reflexes were sharp, movements twitch-fast and dynamic, as if the game moved slower for him than anyone else. He didn't just shoot enemies; he predicted them. Shot them before they even appeared. If Janna was an oracle, Peter was a storm.
They cleared wave after wave without losing a single life. Twin scores climbed in perfect sync. Crowds of other players and mallgoers started to gather behind them, murmuring at the display of harmony and precision.
Janna didn't glance at Peter. She didn't need to. His rhythm echoed her own, and it was almost unsettling how easily they synced.
The boss level arrived. A leviathan-shaped warship glided into view, its core glowing with cascading shields and defenses. It unleashed volleys of attacks, splitting the screen into madness.
Peter called out, "Left!"
Janna was already there.
"Flank!"
They broke apart, moved like opposite halves of a strategy they hadn't planned. They took down the outer shields in seconds. Peter weaved between beams, his blaster a blur of motion, while Janna methodically picked off the energy pylons powering the ship's core.
The warship exploded into a shower of stardust, pixel fragments painting their faces in light. A final score screen blinked into life—double perfect scores.
Then the screen flickered.
The cabinet sparked.
Short-circuited.
It tried to load the ranking board, but the machine began to glitch, a confused system unable to determine who had won.
The crowd behind them erupted into a mix of cheers and disbelief. Some started filming. A few clapped.
Peter rested the blaster on the game ledge, glancing sideways. "I think we broke it."
Janna finally turned to him, really looked at him. Her expression unreadable, but her eyes were sharp.
"You're an anomaly," she said. Not accusingly. Almost...curiously.
Peter raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Takes one to know one."
She didn't respond right away. Instead, she stepped closer, just slightly, like a silent test. Peter didn't flinch, didn't pull away. She studied him, as if weighing invisible factors, like the wind that moved without being seen.
"Your instincts," she said finally. "They're not trained. They're innate. Natural. That's rare."
Peter tilted his head, amusement in his tone. "You saying I'm gifted, Janna?"
"I'm saying you're dangerous."
He chuckled. "Now that sounds more like a compliment."
She blinked once. "It's not."
And yet—
There was the faintest curve of her lips.
She turned away without another word, the flowing motion of her coat trailing behind her as she walked toward the next row of games.
Peter watched her go.
"Yeah," he muttered under his breath, "you're a little terrifying too."
Then he followed.
The next game waited, but the spark between them lingered in the static-filled air, like two rogue stars caught in the same orbit.
Peter and Poppy approached the mechanical punching game with the kind of unspoken tension that only two stubborn personalities could generate. The oversized bag dangled in front of them like a challenge written in neon letters, practically begging to be demolished.
Poppy rolled her shoulder once, then cracked her knuckles one by one. "You gonna cry when I win?"
Peter raised an amused brow. "Should I go easy?"
She let out a huff, not even dignifying that with a response at first. Then came the smirk. That classic, Poppy-brand smirk. "Try me."
There were already a few people milling around the area, watching the two step up like it was an arena bout. The machine hummed to life with flashing lights and a digital announcer's voice blaring, "Test your might!"
Without hesitation, Poppy stepped forward. She rolled her neck with a quiet pop and measured her stance like a warrior checking her footing before a hammer strike. Then, without flair or wind-up, she launched her fist into the bag like she was punching a hole through the machine.
The impact was a thunderclap.
The machine screeched and blinked wildly before plastering the words "NEW RECORD" across the screen in bold, flaming letters. Gasps rose from a few onlookers. Someone even applauded.
Peter let out a low whistle. "Okay, that was... mildly terrifying."
Poppy rolled her shoulder again and stepped aside with a casual shrug, though she clearly relished the attention. "Your turn, champ. Try not to break a nail."
Peter chuckled and stepped up, rolling his wrist theatrically. In his head, the symbiote pulsed with awareness.
"Should I do it?"
No, he thought, "Just underperform. Let her have it. Trust me, it's a social thing."
The symbiote responded with something akin to a grumble, then withdrew slightly into his arm. Peter took his stance. No wind-up. No theatrics. Just one clean strike. Controlled. Pulled.
The machine registered a sharp impact. Lights flashed again, but this time, the score settled at "Second Place"—just a fraction beneath Poppy's record.
There was a pause. No gasp this time, but definite murmurs of interest. Still impressive. Just not earth-shattering.
Poppy grinned wide, stepping closer and looking up at him with something between a challenge and approval. "Good. You're human."
Peter smirked, shaking out his hand with mock pain. "Or am I just respectful?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Nah, I saw that punch. You pulled it."
Peter arched a brow. "Pulled what?"
She snorted. "Please. I'm not blind. You let me have that."
He leaned in a little. "Would it be bad if I said... I just didn't want to see the machine break twice in one day?"
Poppy stared at him for a moment longer, then burst out laughing—a sharp, hearty sound that turned a few more heads.
"Okay, you're growing on me, mystery boy. Just don't get cocky."
Peter placed a hand over his heart. "I would never."
Poppy nudged his shoulder hard enough to make him sway slightly. "Come on. Let's find the others before Lulu puts glitter in another machine."
As they walked off, Peter couldn't help but smirk. Winning the punch machine might've felt good.
But winning over Poppy? That was way more satisfying.
Peter and Lulu wandered off to a brightly lit corner of the arcade, where a whack-a-mole clone—rethemed with bug-eyed, bobble-headed Void monsters—chirped and flashed in invitation.
Lulu gasped, eyes gleaming. "Ohmygosh, look at their faces! They're so squishable!"
The game was chaotic—little purple-and-blue monsters popping out with cartoonish squeals, their heads bouncing erratically. Peter watched as Lulu seized one of the foam hammers, already hopping in place with excitement.
"This is like battle training!" she declared, swinging down with a dramatic thwack on one of the Voidlings. "But cuter!"
Peter chuckled, grabbing the second hammer and stepping up beside her. "You sure this isn't, like, traumatizing for the real Void?"
Lulu didn't answer. She was too busy squealing and striking, her oversized sleeves fluttering with every motion.
Peter let her lead, occasionally helping when two popped up at once, making sure never to outshine her. He held back just enough—enough to stay competitive, but not enough to draw attention. Lulu didn't seem to notice. She was immersed.
"THWACK! Gotcha, you slippery noodle!" Lulu exclaimed, hitting a particularly elusive one with gleeful fury.
Peter raised a brow. "Do you name them?"
"Only the rude ones," she said matter-of-factly. "That one was Gerald. He's always late."
Peter shook his head, smiling. Somehow, talking to Lulu felt like stepping into a fever dream—but in the best way possible. It was disorienting, but oddly peaceful.
The final round escalated into pure chaos, with three Voidlings popping up at once. Lulu screamed, laughing, swinging wildly. Peter stepped in to help cover her flank, coordinating strikes without needing a word.
The buzzer rang. Their total score flashed across the screen: "New Weekly High Score!"
Lulu froze, then squealed so loudly that a nearby couple jumped.
"We did it! WE WON!" She turned to Peter, eyes sparkling, and smacked both hands into his with a triumphant high-five.
"I dub thee—Knight of the Glittering Hammer!" she proclaimed, grabbing a prize ticket from the machine and pressing it against his forehead like a ceremonial medal.
Peter bowed with exaggerated grace. "An honor, Lady Lulu."
She giggled, twirling away to skip back toward the others, and Peter followed—still holding the ticket like it was some sacred artifact.
It wasn't just a silly game. It was a perfect snapshot of who Lulu was.
Pure joy.
Peter and Lux stopped in front of an old-school racing game tucked into the corner of the arcade, its screen flickering slightly like it was holding onto the last gasp of relevance against the flashier machines nearby. Two red seats. Two steering wheels. A pair of neon pedals worn from years of mashing.
Lux tilted her head, one foot tapping softly as she stared at the game. "Wanna lose to someone who still doesn't have her license?" she teased, shooting him a side glance that was equal parts playful and daring.
Peter grinned, stepping beside her with an exaggerated bow. "Only if I get to hear your victory speech afterward. Preferably with dramatic music playing in the background."
She laughed, eyes lighting up, and slid into the left seat. Peter took the right, dropping into the old cushion like it was a throne. The game's title screen popped up: "Turbo Rush 2: Neon Drift", pulsing with synthetic music. The timer began its countdown. They both grabbed their wheels.
"Alright," Peter said, flexing his fingers. "No power-ups. No mercy."
Lux narrowed her eyes. "No whining when I smoke you."
The race began with a shrill countdown: 3... 2... 1...
Go.
Their avatars bolted down a pixelated neon track, city lights blurring past, techno music thumping with each turn. Lux leaned forward, tongue sticking out ever so slightly in pure focus as her car weaved between obstacles with surprising finesse.
Peter, meanwhile, watched her more than he watched his own screen.
She looked so determined. Her grip tight, her lips pursed in concentration, pink bangs bouncing with every movement. She drove like her life depended on it. Peter's own hands turned the wheel, but his feet barely grazed the pedal. Every so often, he'd bump into a wall, let her pass him, give her just enough challenge to keep the fire alive—but never enough to take the lead.
About halfway through the track, Lux let out a tiny victory sound as she overtook his car. "Ha! Look at you back there! You sure you don't want me to give you a head start next time?"
"Clearly I'm a terrible driver," Peter replied with a mock sigh. "Totally not letting you win or anything."
She didn't believe him.
But she let him pretend.
On the final lap, with the city skyline stretching across the background and firework pixels lighting up the sky, Lux crossed the finish line first. Her fist shot into the air, her laugh echoing like a little bell.
"Yes! I win! I actually win!" she shouted, bouncing slightly in her seat.
Peter clapped slowly, playfully. "The world trembles before your unmatched driving skills."
Lux blushed, brushing her bangs out of her eyes and tucking her hair behind one ear. Her excitement mellowed into a softer smile, and when she looked at him—really looked at him—it wasn't the game she was thinking about anymore.
Their eyes met. Just a flicker. A heartbeat. But it hung there, warm and weightless, like a spark between two colliding stars.
Neither of them said anything.
They didn't need to.
"We should... play another one," Lux said quietly, her voice a bit higher than usual.
Peter leaned back in his seat, still watching her. "You trying to start a win streak now?"
She looked away, grinning. "Maybe."
And then, she glanced back.
He was still smiling.
And somehow, so was she.
Peter and Jinx.
The rhythm game.
Of course it had to be this. A neon-lit beast from the arcades of Tokyo, complete with a massive touch-sensitive dance pad, a screen brighter than the sun, and music that practically dared you to keep up. It screamed chaos.
Perfect for Jinx.
She grabbed Peter's wrist without hesitation, dragging him through the rows of machines like a gleeful predator hauling in prey. "Hope you're ready to get smoked," she said, a glint of manic excitement in her eyes.
Peter raised a brow, amused. "How bad are we talking?"
"Like... Hiroshima-level destruction."
"Spicy."
Jinx cackled and practically slammed her hand on the machine to start it. The screen blinked, selecting a ridiculous song—something so fast it might as well have been composed by caffeine on legs.
They stepped onto the platform. Lights pulsed beneath their feet. A small crowd of kids peeked from behind claw machines to watch.
Jinx cracked her knuckles. "Try to keep up, Parker."
The music started.
And it was chaos.
Jinx exploded into motion, her footwork sharp and confident. She twirled, spun, landed every beat with a swagger that screamed, "I own this game."
And then Peter moved.
Not stumbled, not tried—moved.
He didn't just dance—he flowed. A rhythm born from something unnatural, something practiced in shadows. His steps were perfect. Not a beat missed. Not a motion wasted. It was like the machine had been designed for him. The lights reflected off his calm, composed expression, as if he was thinking about anything but the blaring music and blinding colors.
Jinx glanced sideways, expecting to see Peter fumbling.
Instead, she saw elegance. Precision.
What the hell.
She faltered—just for a second. A missed beat. A hiccup.
Peter didn't even notice. Or maybe he did and chose not to rub it in.
The crowd leaned closer. The screen flashed updates at a ridiculous pace—"Perfect!" "Perfect!" "PERFECT!"
And then the music stopped.
The screen lit up in a rainbow of pixels:
FLAWLESS VICTORY.
Peter's score? Maxed out.
Jinx stared at the screen, stunned. Her mouth slightly open, her hands frozen mid-air like she had forgotten what gravity was.
Peter turned slowly, cool and collected, and gave her a lazy, cocky grin.
"What? You're the one who said destroy."
Jinx blinked.
Then burst into laughter. Loud, unfiltered, pure.
She shoved his shoulder—not lightly. "Okay, what the hell are you, a dance ninja? That was rude. Rude!"
Peter shrugged. "I was holding back."
"You liar!"
They broke into another round of laughter. And it wasn't forced. It wasn't awkward. It was easy.
They stood there, surrounded by blinking lights and blaring synths, teasing each other like they'd been doing this for years.
Lux stood nearby with a drink in hand, watching from behind a nearby claw machine. She wasn't jealous—but her smile wavered. Just a little.
Poppy had her arms crossed, trying to figure out if she should be annoyed or impressed.
Janna's head tilted ever so slightly. There was something... different about the way Jinx looked at Peter. Different than her usual manic spark. Something a bit more curious. A little more focused.
Lulu was grinning from ear to ear. "They look like a tag team boss fight!"
But to everyone there, even if they didn't quite say it out loud...
That moment sealed it.
This wasn't just some chaotic, weird hangout.
Peter Parker was chaos wrapped in mystery, dipped in charm, and sprinkled with danger.
And Jinx?
She might've just met her match.
Even if she'd never admit it.
Lulu's stomach made an adorably dramatic growl.
Everyone paused.
She blinked up at the group with the most innocent expression imaginable. "So... food?"
Peter chuckled. "Was that your way of suggesting we refuel?"
"I'm running on glitter and sugar," Lulu declared, rubbing her belly. "And the glitter's wearing off."
"Seconded," said Jinx, spinning in a slow circle. "All this movement demands greasy nourishment."
"I could eat," Lux added quietly, glancing over at Peter. "You?"
He shrugged. "I mean, technically, I'm eating for—" He caught himself. "—uh, yeah. I could definitely eat."
Janna gave him a long, slow blink. "You were going to say something else."
Peter smiled. "Was I?"
Poppy narrowed her eyes. "You were."
"Was not," he replied quickly, then pointed toward the nearest escalator. "Anyway! Restaurant hunt, yeah? Let's get moving before Lulu passes out from hunger."
"I would never," Lulu said proudly. Then stumbled a little. "...unless."
The group started moving again, their footsteps a steady rhythm against the tile of the upper mall floor. The escalator ride was filled with idle chatter, fingers pointing at random places they could try—burger joints, ramen stands, fusion cafés. Somewhere between indecisiveness and democratic chaos, they finally settled on a cozy corner restaurant nestled by the food court's end. It had long tables, low lighting, and a menu wide enough to please everyone.
But before they could enter, Janna spoke up, her arms still loosely folded across her chest.
"Aeon Pulse," she said.
Everyone looked at her.
Peter blinked. "That the game we played?"
Janna nodded. "You didn't blink once."
"I said not to."
She studied him for a moment, as if that alone was reason for concern. "That was... fun," she finally admitted. "Strategic. Precise."
Lux blinked. "You're saying it was fun-fun, or Janna-fun?"
Janna almost smiled. "The second one."
"Damn," said Jinx. "High praise."
Poppy scoffed, stepping in next. "Shooter game's fine, but I still say the punching machine was better."
"Oh, here we go," muttered Lux.
Peter held his hands up. "I maintain that I lost with grace."
"You let me win," Poppy accused, pointing a finger at him.
He mock-gasped. "You wound me."
"You definitely let her win," Jinx snorted. "You flinched before you hit it like you were debating physics."
Peter leaned in toward her. "I was. I don't need to send another machine to the ICU."
That earned a snicker from Lulu, who suddenly perked up. "Void Whack!"
"What?" Janna asked.
"The game Peter and I played," Lulu explained. "It was like bopping tiny monsters into stardust. He was really good!"
"I just followed your lead," Peter added with a wink.
"She screamed every time one popped up," Lux muttered behind her cup.
"Battle cries, Lux. Get it right."
Janna looked sideways at Peter again. "You weren't screaming."
"Only on the inside."
Jinx rolled her eyes. "That's such a 'you' answer."
"You don't know me that well."
"I know enough to know that's a lie."
Lux tried to steer the conversation. "I think my favorite part was the racing game." She said it softly, almost like she didn't want to bring attention to it. "It was nostalgic."
"Nostalgic?" Peter asked.
She nodded, cheeks a bit pink. "My brother and I used to play it all the time. I always lost."
Peter's gaze softened. "Guess I was overdue for a loss then."
The comment hung there, sweet and simple.
Then Jinx groaned loudly. "Ugh, gross. Do that in private, you two."
Lux looked like she wanted to vanish into the ground. "Jinx!"
"What? I call it like I see it."
"Keep calling it and you'll get banned from sugar for a week," Poppy threatened.
Jinx gasped. "You wouldn't."
"She would," said Janna.
"Absolutely," said Lux.
Lulu gasped. "Not her bubble tea privileges!"
"I'm surrounded by traitors!" Jinx cried, dramatically slumping into Peter's side.
He patted her shoulder like a veteran dealing with battlefield grief. "Stay strong."
"I trusted you," she whispered up at him.
"You shouldn't have."
They reached the restaurant, the host gesturing toward a long booth that just barely fit all six of them. Drinks were ordered, menus opened, and orders began pouring in—mostly dishes that probably wouldn't win any health awards.
Peter, seated at the center of the booth, looked around at them.
Jinx flipping her menu upside down. Lux biting her straw as she read. Lulu already pointing at every dessert on the back page. Janna sitting upright, attention focused but subtle. Poppy quietly observing.
The hum of the restaurant wrapped around them like background music, the clinking of cutlery and distant chatter forming a quiet ambiance under the glow of hanging Edison bulbs. The booth, slightly too cramped for six people, only added to the intimacy—knees bumping, elbows brushing, shoes lightly tapping beneath the table.
Peter rested one arm lazily across the backrest, his other hand spinning a fork absentmindedly as he glanced from girl to girl like a conductor preparing for the next act.
"So," he said, voice easy, relaxed. "What does dinner conversation look like for a squad of five?"
"Four and a half," Poppy muttered, still glaring at Jinx.
"Hey!" Jinx tossed a sugar packet at her. "I'm a full member!"
"You're chaos incarnate," Poppy said flatly.
"Same thing," Lulu chimed in, then leaned over the table to Peter with a conspiratorial whisper. "She says that with love."
"I can feel it," Peter replied, deadpan. "Warm and fuzzy."
Janna stirred her tea calmly. "We don't usually bring strangers into our downtime."
"I'm honored," Peter said, tone softening just enough to feel real. "Though I'm not sure I count as a stranger anymore."
That made Lux glance up at him.
He wasn't looking at her.
But he didn't need to be.
Poppy leaned forward on her elbows. "Let's not pretend we know you just because you can keep up with Jinx on the dance floor."
"Is that what this is?" Peter tilted his head, tone casual but with that sharp undertone of a chess piece being moved. "A trial by banter?"
"More like a stress test," Janna said. "You're... adaptable."
He smiled. "That's one way to put it."
Lux found herself watching him again, tracing the curve of his cheek, the way his fingers moved when he spoke. Relaxed, confident. Not arrogant—but not disarmed either. It was like he was always calculating something. But somehow, it didn't feel off-putting.
It felt practiced.
Like breathing.
Lulu clapped her hands as the appetizers arrived—some tower of nachos already collapsing under its own weight, and a basket of fries so large even Jinx blinked.
"Oh, we're going feral tonight," she whispered reverently.
"I want those fries to know fear," Jinx declared, immediately grabbing a handful.
Peter slid the ketchup toward her without a word. She blinked, then grinned like he'd passed some invisible test.
"You do listen," she said.
He just sipped his drink.
Lux reached for a nacho, hesitated, then quietly picked the one with the least amount of cheese.
Peter noticed. Didn't say anything.
Instead, he nudged the plate slightly closer to her.
No big gesture. Just enough to say: It's okay.
Janna, ever the observer, clocked it. Filed it. Said nothing.
"So," Lulu said between bites, "if you had to be any kind of animal, what would you be?"
Peter raised a brow. "That's the game?"
"It's a good game!" Lulu argued.
"Fine," Peter said, pretending to think. "Probably a black cat."
Lux smiled at that. "Fits."
"Because of the sleek mystique?" Jinx asked.
Peter shrugged. "Because people see them and make assumptions. And they usually underestimate them."
Janna blinked. Once. Slowly.
Poppy stared, unimpressed. "That's... ominous."
"It's honest," Peter replied, casually dipping a fry. "You?"
"Rhino," Poppy said immediately.
Jinx snorted. "Of course."
"Solid, grounded, charges through anything in its way," Poppy said with a smirk. "What, you thought I was gonna say bunny?"
"You give me wolf energy," Peter said.
Poppy paused, surprised. "Why?"
"Because you lead from the back," he said, voice smooth. "You let others talk, watch everything. And when you move, it's deliberate."
The table went quiet for a beat.
Even Poppy seemed unsure whether to be flattered or suspicious.
"I like him," Lulu announced.
"Of course you do," Jinx said. "You'd like a sentient toaster if it smiled at you."
"If it had googly eyes," Lulu corrected. "And a bowtie."
Peter smiled behind his glass.
Lux finally chimed in. "Okay, okay. New question."
Everyone turned to her.
She flushed a little. "What's... I don't know. The dumbest thing you've ever done for someone you liked?"
"Oh, that's evil," Jinx grinned. "I love it."
Poppy rolled her eyes. "I don't have time for dumb."
Janna sipped her tea. "Nor do I."
Lulu raised her hand. "I once painted someone's dog rainbow colors with edible dye."
Peter blinked. "Why?"
"To impress their cat."
There was a full second of stunned silence.
Then Jinx wheezed. "Lulu, what—"
"It made sense at the time!" Lulu cried.
Peter laughed, full and genuine. "Okay, that wins."
Jinx turned to him. "Your turn."
Peter considered that for a long second, head tilted as he swirled the ice in his glass.
"I got hit by a car."
Everyone froze.
"...what," Lux said.
Peter grinned. "I wasn't paying attention. Was texting someone I liked. Walked right into traffic."
"You're lying," Jinx accused, wide-eyed.
"I'm... mostly lying," he admitted. "But the moral stands. Don't text and walk."
Lux giggled. "That's actually awful."
"It's relatable," Peter said, and for a moment, the air around the table lightened again. The meal hadn't even fully arrived, and yet, it already felt like dessert.
He looked around.
Janna had stopped testing him.
Poppy still didn't trust him—but the edge was duller.
Lulu adored him. That was easy.
Jinx? Jinx was having fun.
And Lux?
She looked at him the way stars looked at the sky.
And he—he played the part flawlessly.
Still hidden in plain sight.
Still weaving through their orbit like he'd been born there.
Because if he was going to protect them...
He had to be a part of them first.
Even if it meant lying through his teeth.
Even if it meant smiling through the weight of the symbiote slithering under his skin.
"Alright," he said as the food arrived, steam rising in aromatic waves. "Let's make a deal."
Jinx raised a brow. "What kind of deal?"
"No more talking about me until dessert."
"Too late," Poppy muttered.
Peter smirked. "Think of it as a challenge."
Janna hummed. "Very well. You get a temporary ceasefire."
Lulu held up a fry like a sword. "For the honor of snacks!"
They all laughed.
And beneath the table, unnoticed, Peter's fingers tapped once against his knee.
One, two, three... five pulses.
One for each girl.
One heartbeat to memorize.
One life to keep safe.
He wasn't sure how or why—but they mattered.
Already.
Even if they didn't know it yet.
The food arrived with a satisfying clatter—greasy, rich, and the kind of comfort cuisine that defied all nutritional guidelines. Burgers stacked with cheese and fried onions, loaded fries glistening under too much sauce, colorful smoothies Lulu had somehow convinced everyone to order, and of course, Jinx's infamous "triple dessert starter," which she claimed was a real thing in several countries Peter was fairly sure didn't exist.
For a while, things were quiet—chewing, sipping, soft banter humming like background music. Jinx drizzled sauce over her fries like it was a science experiment. Lulu insisted on trying everyone's drink. Poppy methodically took apart her burger with surgical precision before eating it in halves. Janna barely touched her food, but listened, eyes flicking between everyone like a chessmaster watching pieces shift across a board. Lux was mostly stealing fries off Jinx's plate when she thought no one noticed.
Peter didn't speak unless he was spoken to. He laughed when Lulu joked. Nodded when Jinx threw mock insults. He made a few quiet comments that turned heads and earned chuckles, but otherwise? He let the chaos swirl around him.
Until dessert arrived.
And with it—homework panic.
"Wait," Poppy said suddenly, halfway through her last bite of molten brownie, "did any of you finish the chemistry assignment?"
The table froze.
Jinx's spoon fell into her sundae. "Wait, that was due tomorrow?!"
Lux's eyes widened. "Oh no... I totally forgot."
Lulu blinked. "...We had an assignment?"
Janna, ever composed, took a polite sip of her drink. "I finished mine. Last week."
Everyone turned to her in betrayal.
"Of course you did," Jinx said with a dramatic groan.
Poppy looked around. "Well, I didn't even start it. And I swear if it tanks my grade I'm blaming whoever invented covalent bonds."
Lux was already pulling out her phone to check the class portal. "Ugh, it's the molecular compound section. I hate this chapter."
Jinx looked at Peter. "You still there, brainiac?"
He looked up from his drink, calm as ever. "Present and mildly caffeinated."
Lux nudged her phone toward him. "Wanna help... again?"
Poppy blinked. "Wait—again? He's helped you with homework before?"
Jinx was already passing hers across the table. "Uh, duh. Guy's like a walking chemistry textbook, but funnier."
Peter shrugged. "I just know enough to sound impressive in text messages."
"Then sound impressive now," Janna said, folding her hands. "Explain ionic bonding. Quickly."
Peter didn't miss a beat. "Transfer of electrons between a metal and a non-metal. Creates ions, oppositely charged, which attract to form a bond. Sodium chloride's your go-to example."
"Electron configuration of neon?" Poppy tested.
"1s² 2s² 2p⁶," he said, casually taking another bite of cheesecake.
"Standard molar volume?" Lux asked.
"22.4 liters per mole of gas at STP."
"pH of a weak acid with known Ka?" Janna tried again, upping the ante.
Peter leaned back. "Use the ICE table method. Set up your equilibrium expression, solve for H⁺, plug into -log[H⁺]."
"...Okay," Lulu whispered, "but like, how do you know this stuff if you're not in school?"
Peter smiled faintly. "Some people collect baseball cards. I collect equations."
Jinx squinted. "You're either a nerd or a supervillain."
"Can't I be both?"
"You're like... ridiculously good at sounding smart without sounding like a know-it-all," Poppy said, eyeing him suspiciously.
Peter raised a brow. "Would it be better if I used the wrong answer on purpose?"
"Yes," Janna and Poppy said at once.
"No," Lux and Jinx immediately countered.
Lulu sipped her drink with a dreamy smile. "He's like a magic homework fairy."
Peter gestured with his fork. "Only with proper bribes. I accept coffee, sarcasm, and... uh, your eternal gratitude."
Jinx leaned on her elbow, staring at him. "You're really not from around here, huh?"
He smiled again—same smile. Easy. Unshaken. "I'm just good at Googling things."
Lux laughed. "Liar. You were spitting formulas before I could even open the calculator app."
Poppy huffed. "I still don't get it. You're not even in our class."
"I'm not even in your school," Peter added, honest but vague.
"Then how do you get this stuff?" Janna asked again. "Seriously. Who just knows this?"
Peter hesitated for the briefest second. Not enough to draw suspicion—just enough to seem thoughtful.
"I guess when you've got nothing but time, you fill your head with whatever keeps it busy," he said quietly.
It was the kind of answer that shut people up.
Not because it was mysterious.
Because it sounded real.
Even if none of them could tell whether it was.
The moment passed, and the table softened again—light chuckles, rolling eyes, exaggerated sighs about school and assignments and impending Monday doom.
But inside Peter's mind, he wasn't calculating pH levels anymore.
He was calculating trust.
Each girl was warming to him at their own pace.
Lulu had already let him in.
Jinx was dancing on the edge of curiosity and something else.
Lux... still had the stars in her eyes.
And the other two? Still testing. Still probing. But their guard had lessen more than before.
That was fine.
He liked puzzles.
But no matter how much they laughed or joked...
Peter hadn't forgotten what he saw wrapped in each of their auras.
Light.
Vast, radiant, fragile light.
And if there was one thing the Darks devoured first?
It was always the brightest stars.
So he smiled again, leaned back in the booth, and said casually, "Now... who wants me to crash-study their biology next?"
Jinx immediately raised her hand. "ME. But, like, the one with cells, not birds and bees."
Peter smirked. "Too bad. I'm fluent in both."
And the table exploded into another round of chaotic laughter.
Dessert was devoured. Conversations spiraled into every direction.
But something unspoken lingered beneath it all.
Something that tethered them to this moment.
This strange boy who shouldn't have fit.
But somehow already did.
The plates were scraped clean. The desserts half-finished but picked at with spoons like edible puzzles. Laughter lingered like a perfume in the air, soft and clinging, warm like the lights above them.
For a moment, no one moved.
Until Lux glanced at the time on her phone and gave a hesitant smile. "Okay... one last thing before we wrap this up?"
Jinx raised a brow. "If you say calculus practice, I swear I will physically flip this table."
Lux giggled. "No, I was thinking—karaoke."
Lulu's eyes sparkled. "Karaoke? OOOH YES. YES! Yesyesyesyes!"
Poppy made a face. "Oh no."
Janna blinked, tilting her head slightly. "I am... not opposed."
Jinx stretched, arms behind her head. "Could be fun. Especially if I get to hear Poppy try to sing."
"I don't sing," Poppy said flatly.
"You will tonight," Jinx teased.
Everyone slowly turned to Peter.
He didn't flinch under the sudden attention. He set his drink down with a calm smile and replied, "I only perform duets. Strict rule."
"Oh no," Lux muttered, hiding her grin behind her hand.
Janna raised a brow. "Duets with?"
Peter looked directly at Lux.
Then Jinx.
Then Lulu.
Then Poppy.
Then Janna.
"Whoever's brave enough," he said, leaning back.
That earned a laugh from nearly everyone—except Poppy, who was still visibly considering the risks of letting this boy anywhere near a microphone.
Lulu practically bounced in her seat. "We have to go now. Before Poppy comes up with reasons why it's a bad idea!"
"I don't need to come up with reasons," Poppy muttered. "They come to me naturally."
"Alright then!" Jinx declared, already scooting out of the booth. "Operation Embarrass-Ourselves-At-Karaoke begins!"
They gathered their things—bags, jackets, leftover boxes—and filed out into the glowing mall corridor once more.
The lights overhead were dimmer now, painted in soft oranges and dusky blues as the evening settled into night. Most of the shops were closing up or already closed, but the ground floor still buzzed with energy. That strange liminal space of weekend evenings, where time moved slower and conversations grew louder.
Peter walked alongside the group, hands in his pockets, the collar of his jacket lightly raised by the breeze of passing ventilation.
Lux was by his side again, nervously glancing up at him.
"So, uh... duet, huh?" she said, trying to sound casual and failing completely.
He gave her a sidelong glance and the smallest of smirks. "You volunteering?"
"Maybe," she said quickly. "I mean—maybe not! I'm not saying yes or no, it's just—"
Peter chuckled. "Don't worry. I only pick the really embarrassing songs."
"That doesn't make this better," Lux whispered.
Ahead of them, Jinx was skipping backward while facing the group, arms spread like she was about to conduct traffic. "Alright! Rules for karaoke: one, no chickening out. Two, if you cry onstage, it better be because of how incredible your performance is. And three..."
She pointed at Peter dramatically. "New guy goes last."
Peter raised a brow. "Strategic decision or sabotage?"
"Little of both."
"I accept the terms."
Poppy sighed as she walked beside Janna. "We're going to regret this."
Janna's voice was calm. "Unlikely. The experience will provide insight into personality, emotional regulation, and public confidence."
Poppy stared. "That was... not comforting."
Lulu, meanwhile, was humming a tune already. "Ooh! What should I sing? Something with bunnies? Or maybe stars? Do they have any songs about galactic cupcakes?"
Peter turned slightly toward her. "You'd be surprised what's on karaoke playlists."
Jinx rejoined him in stride. "So. Be honest. On a scale of 1 to 'my secret hobby is acapella competitions,' how good are you at singing?"
Peter gave a half-smile. "Let's just say... the symbiote prefers I don't."
Jinx blinked. "I'm sorry. What?"
"Nothing," he said smoothly.
Her eyes narrowed. "See, now I have to know what that means."
"You'll find out. Eventually."
They reached the mall escalator and began the descent to the first floor. The neon glow of the karaoke bar pulsed faintly in the distance, just past the corner food court. Music filtered out from the walls—someone belting their soul out through a cracked speaker. It was loud. It was off-key. It was perfect.
Janna quietly observed the others as they moved ahead—Lux chattering nervously with Peter, Jinx spinning in circles like a kid on sugar, Lulu practically vibrating, and Poppy, as always, trailing behind with the air of someone being dragged into battle.
And Peter.
Still smiling.
Still... unreadable.
She didn't know who or what he was yet.
But one thing was certain.
Whatever this night turned into?
Peter Parker was becoming the variable none of them had accounted for.
And she wasn't sure whether that thrilled or terrified her more.
They turned the corner.
Karaoke lights greeted them with their flickering invitation.
The final chapter of the hangout was about to begin.
And none of them were ready.
They stepped through the tinted-glass doors of the karaoke lounge, where colorful LEDs danced across the dark walls like technicolor constellations. The lobby buzzed with muffled music, half-drunken laughter from strangers in adjacent booths, and the faint smell of soda syrup and faux leather furniture.
A cheerful hostess greeted them and ushered the group into one of the larger private rooms—complete with velvet-padded benches, touch-screen karaoke controls, and two microphones waiting atop the coffee table like weapons in a final showdown.
The girls scattered into the room with gleeful noise.
Lulu immediately lunged for the touchpad.
Lux tried to help her navigate the song selection but gave up halfway through because Lulu was just pressing every button anyway.
Peter quietly sat down at the edge of the couch, soaking it all in—the noise, the light, the sheer ridiculous normalcy of it all. For a moment, he let himself forget the Nexus, the darkness, the pulse of the symbiote under his skin.
Right now? He was just a teenage boy, stuck in a room with five chaotic girls and a night full of questionable musical decisions.
And he was all in.
First up was Lulu.
Naturally.
She didn't ask. She didn't wait. She just picked a hyperpop song with sparkles in the background and jumped onto the makeshift stage area like it was a spaceship.
The music started—fast, high-pitched, and borderline incomprehensible.
And somehow, Lulu nailed it.
Her voice wasn't technically perfect—but she made up for it with sheer enthusiasm, bouncing in place, spinning once mid-chorus, and throwing imaginary confetti every time she hit a high note.
"I'm a comet made of cotton candy~!" she belted.
Jinx fell off the couch laughing.
Peter clapped along, eyes wide. "I feel like I just watched a meteor made of glitter."
"She's a one-girl fireworks show," Lux added, still giggling.
When the song ended, Lulu posed with the mic over her head like a magical girl finishing a transformation. The screen flashed: 95/100 – KARAOKE GODDESS
She tossed Peter a wink and flopped back onto the bench beside him. "Your turn eventually, new guy~!"
"Pressure's on," he murmured.
Next came Poppy.
After intense heckling.
She stood with her arms crossed, microphone in hand like it was a war hammer.
The song she picked?
An old rock anthem about proving yourself through strength and willpower.
Poppy didn't sing.
She declared.
Her voice was sharp, a bit off-rhythm, and loud enough to rattle the glass in the corner.
But it had heart.
She pumped her fist with every beat. By the second verse, Jinx and Lulu were screaming along with her like they were front row at a concert.
Peter leaned toward Lux. "Is this how wars start?"
Lux laughed. "No. This is how legends start."
When the song finished, the machine buzzed for a moment before blinking out a stunned: 88/100 – COURAGEOUS CHAMPION
Poppy shrugged and handed the mic back. "It's not about the score."
"No," Peter agreed. "It's about sending a message."
Then came Lux.
She hesitated as she stood.
Jinx gave her a little push. "C'mon, you've been humming all day."
Lux flushed. "Fine. But don't laugh if I mess up."
She picked a soft, emotional pop ballad—one of those shimmering, piano-backed songs that belonged in a coming-of-age movie.
Her voice?
Beautiful. A little shaky, yes, but genuine.
It wasn't performative. It was intimate. Like the room melted away and she was singing only to herself.
Or maybe...
Only to Peter.
He sat a little straighter as her voice dipped into the chorus.
She caught him watching once. Didn't look away.
When it ended, there was a pause.
Then: 91/100 – STELLAR SERENADE
The group cheered.
Peter clapped slowly. "So. Duet partner standards have been raised."
Lux ducked her head, smiling softly. "I didn't mess up too bad?"
"You broke hearts," he said. "In a good way."
She didn't answer—just took her seat with glowing cheeks and nervous fingers tapping her knee.
Janna rose next.
She moved with grace—measured, poised.
Her song choice?
A haunting, orchestral piece with minimal lyrics and a lot of atmosphere.
The kind of song that wasn't about singing so much as feeling.
And Janna made you feel it.
She didn't move much. She didn't need to.
Her presence filled the room like a storm on the horizon.
Even Peter felt it—this strange, subtle command she held.
When the final note faded out, no one spoke for a moment.
Even the machine responded slower, finally blinking:
93/100 – STORM-SUNG SORCERESS
Jinx exhaled dramatically. "Okay, why did that feel like I got hexed and blessed at the same time?"
Peter grinned. "Because you did."
Janna sat quietly, but her gaze lingered on Peter for a beat too long.
And then she smiled.
And now... it was Jinx.
She stood.
No warning.
Picked the loudest, flashiest, most absurd song on the list.
A high-tempo pop-punk anthem with screaming lyrics and aggressive bass drops.
Peter knew the challenge had been issued.
He stood too.
"Duet?" he asked.
Jinx twirled the second mic toward him. "Hope you can keep up, Spaceman."
He caught it one-handed.
"Watch me."
The song began.
And chaos was unleashed.
They moved like two stars in orbit—Jinx with her wild, expressive energy, spinning and kicking and throwing her voice like fireworks, and Peter... calm but electric. His voice hit every note, every switch, effortlessly.
And when they harmonized?
It was fireworks.
A full performance. Energy. Chemistry. Whiplash-inducing perfection.
By the end, both were out of breath.
The machine buzzed. Then exploded in color:
99/100 – COSMIC COUPLE CHAOS
Jinx was laughing before the lights faded.
"Okay, okay, you win," she gasped. "But only because I let you."
Peter smirked. "Sure."
Lux looked between them, trying not to smile too much. Feeling a slight sting in her heart.
Poppy blinked. "So that's what a musical explosion looks like."
Janna simply nodded. "Formidable."
Lulu flailed her arms. "BEST. DUET. EVER!"
The group collapsed back onto the couches, flushed and breathless, the high of the music still tingling in their bones.
And Peter?
He felt something strange.
Something warm.
Something right.
He hadn't saved the world tonight.
He hadn't fought monsters or stopped a doomsday.
He'd just laughed. Sang. Connected.
And in some ways?
That felt more important than any battle.
An hour later...
The air outside the karaoke lounge was cooler now, brushed with the soft breeze of approaching night. The city lights glimmered through the mall's tall windows, casting pale reflections across polished floors. As the group stepped back into the halls, the familiar rhythm of their laughter slowly faded.
Peter's smile remained.
But his body tensed.
A faint vibration danced across the edge of his spine. A pulse that didn't belong. His Spider-Sense whispered—not screamed, but murmured. Subtle. Lurking. Deadly.
The mall had somehow filled with people.
Too many.
Lux glanced around, blinking. "Okay, was it just me or was this place, like, empty earlier?"
"I thought the same," Janna muttered.
"Is there an event going on?" Poppy asked, scanning the dense crowd.
Jinx shrugged, adjusting her hoodie. "Nobody told me anything. I would've dragged y'all here sooner."
Peter didn't say anything. He kept walking, hands in his pockets, eyes on the move.
That wasn't a normal crowd. It was too perfectly chaotic. Not panicked, but... deliberate. Distracting. Directed. Herded.
And then he saw him.
Tucked between bodies in the distance, standing still while others moved.
Classic outfit. Crimson scope over one eye. Armored vest. High-caliber rifle already drawn.
Deadshot.
Or rather... something darker. Wrong. A version corrupted past recognition.
Dark Deadshot.
Peter didn't stop walking. He let the others talk, pointing toward the nearest escalator.
"Let's just head to the exit," Lux suggested.
"I don't like this crowd," Poppy muttered.
"Maybe they're giving out coupons or something," Lulu chimed.
Jinx bumped into Peter's side. "You good? You're quiet."
Peter gave her a nod, smile still in place. "Just crowd math. Trying to calculate escape velocity."
Deadshot's rifle shifted slightly. Aimed through the moving bodies.
Peter saw the shot.
His hand moved like a twitch.
The bullet whizzed past Lux's shoulder—only for Peter to tilt his head a centimeter, letting it pass harmlessly behind.
No one noticed.
He kept walking. Calm. Casual.
Deadshot fired again.
Peter's hand jerked—like he'd just cracked his knuckle.
But he caught the bullet.
No one saw.
Another shot. Peter turned his body slightly, guiding the trajectory away from Lulu.
The girls kept chatting. Peter kept listening. Dodging. Calculating.
Then, from the crowd—a Dark soldier stepped forward. Gun raised. Silent. Hidden beneath a hoodie.
He placed the muzzle against Peter's back.
Wrong move.
Peter twisted, shattered the soldier's wrist with a casual snap, shoved the gun into the soldier's own gut, and pulled the trigger twice—sound suppressed by the crowd and his symbiote.
He caught the body before it fell, twisted it slightly, and dragged it to a nearby bench.
He laid the soldier down gently, head tilted like he was napping, sunglasses pulled down.
Nobody looked twice.
Peter kept the gun. Disassembled it as he walked, letting screws and components drop into trash bins.
The magazine he kept.
"What's up with you back there?" Jinx called over her shoulder.
Peter caught up. "Just vibing."
Then Deadshot adjusted. New angle.
He aimed at Jinx.
Peter's eyes flicked.
A shot rang.
Peter reached forward, shoved Jinx's ankle subtly with his foot. She stumbled.
"Whoa!" she yelped.
He caught her.
And caught the bullet behind her with his free hand, crushing it into powder in his palm.
"You good?" he asked softly.
Jinx blinked, nodding as she grabbed his shoulder for balance. "Yeah. Just tripped. Thanks."
"Someone probably kicked your foot," Lulu guessed.
"Rude," Jinx muttered.
Peter helped her up, then discreetly slipped his hand into a passing shopper's tote bag. He pulled out a pen.
In one smooth motion, he cracked open the magazine and slid the pen inside, twisting the spring to prepare.
The crowd thickened. They neared the glass doors.
Peter vanished.
Jinx turned. "Hey—?"
He wasn't behind them anymore.
Lux looked around. "Did he—?"
"Probably got lost in the crowd," Poppy muttered.
But Peter was already gone. A blur between shadows.
Deadshot scanned. Rifle raised.
Then he spotted Peter approaching. Calm. Alone.
Deadshot fired.
But Peter had already pressed the spring.
The pen launched like a dart.
Straight into Deadshot's throat.
The Dark staggered back, gurgling. Peter closed the distance and with surgical grace, slammed the pen deeper, severing vital functions.
He caught Deadshot's body before it hit the floor. Slumped it against a bench. Tilted the head. Slid the scope visor shut.
It looked like sleep.
Peter turned back.
The girls were near the doors.
He stepped out of the shadows, hands in pockets.
"Sorry," he called casually. "Got turned around. Some guy blocked the path."
Jinx raised a brow. "You okay?"
Peter smiled. "All good now."
They walked out of the mall, unaware of the silent chaos left behind.
Five girls.
One Guardian.
And one less Dark in the world.
The cool night air kissed their skin as the sliding glass doors of the mall whooshed shut behind them. Neon signs flickered across the courtyard, and the muffled buzz of the crowd remained behind the glass like a storm trapped in a bottle.
Lulu immediately spun on her heel, blinking wide. "Where did all those people even come from?! I swear the mall wasn't that packed before."
Jinx laughed nervously. "Right? It was like boom—instant crowd." She rolled her shoulder and gave Peter a nudge, the third time that day her hand had found his arm. "Good thing Parker here caught me or I'd be scraping my face off the tile."
Peter shrugged with a half-smile. "Good reflexes. Perk of daily cardio."
Lux squinted, her gaze lingering on Jinx's hand. She didn't say anything outright, but the slight pinch between her brows gave her away.
Janna noticed.
Before tension could sprout like a weed, Janna gracefully stepped forward, her hands folded in front of her. "Thank you, Peter. For joining us today. I admit I had my reservations, but... your presence enhanced the experience."
Peter offered a half bow, casual and fluid. "I aim to please."
Lulu beamed. "You were fun! You're, like, the MVP of the hangout!"
"Definitely better than I expected," Poppy admitted, arms crossed. "Still suspiciously good at everything, but... tolerable."
"High praise from Poppy," Jinx said with a grin.
Lux nodded quietly. "Yeah... thanks, Peter. It was fun. Really fun."
The group lingered there in the plaza, their energy mellow now, softened by the long day. The mall lights cast gentle glows across their faces, and for a moment, no one wanted to be the first to end it.
Janna broke the silence.
"Before you go," she said, her voice even, "perhaps... you wouldn't mind sharing your number?"
Peter tilted his head. "For more hangouts or for background checks?"
"Yes," Janna replied with a tiny smirk.
Lulu gasped, clapping her hands. "Ooooooh my stars! Janna asked for his number?! Is this an alternate dimension?!"
Poppy looked like she'd seen a glitch in reality. "Okay, am I hallucinating?"
Jinx blinked. Not jealousy. No, not exactly. But there was something tight in her chest. She crossed her arms. "Wow, Jan. That's bold of you. Planning a date already?"
Janna raised a brow calmly. "Don't be absurd. Curiosity is not courtship."
"Uh-huh," Jinx mumbled under her breath.
"What was that?" Janna asked, tilting her head.
"Nothing," Jinx replied quickly.
Peter just chuckled and pulled out his phone. "Here. I don't mind."
They exchanged numbers smoothly, Janna's movements precise and polite. She handed it back with a quiet, "Thank you."
The girls started to head off, waving and offering casual goodbyes. Poppy gave a nod. Lulu threw her arms around Peter in a brief hug. Lux hesitated, then smiled and simply said, "Good night."
Jinx lingered the longest. She walked backwards as she moved to follow the others. "Don't ghost us, Parker. I still need my meme supplier."
Peter smiled lazily. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Janna, already a few steps ahead, turned her head just slightly. "Until next time."
And with that, they disappeared into the night.
Peter turned in the opposite direction, walking alone now, hands in his pockets, the world quieter.
A soft chuckle escaped him. It started low in his throat and didn't quite reach his eyes.
"How easy," he murmured.
He reached his apartment a few blocks down.
Peter closed the door behind him, tossed his jacket aside, and looked at his hand.
Not trembling.
Not shaking.
Just... steady.
He slowly opened his palm and stared.
That pen.
That beautiful little pen.
He could still remember the moment. The click of the magazine. The way it launched like a blade. The feel of it plunging into Deadshot's throat.
The way it stuck.
The way the body went still.
His fingers curled around the phantom weight.
He liked that feeling.
He liked it a lot.
He let the smile come this time.
Wide.
Crooked.
Wrong.
"You're getting too good at this," he whispered to himself.
And the silence in the room answered back like an old friend.
Welcome home, Peter.
To Be Continued...