"No!"
The voice was firm yet gentle. It belonged to the Daughter.
Everyone turned toward her as she walked forward, approaching Ahsoka's still form. She knelt gracefully before the fallen Padawan and placed her hand softly against Ahsoka's forehead. Closing her eyes, the Daughter began to glow with a soft, luminous light.
"Yes," she said quietly. "We still have a chance to save her."
In an instant, every gaze fixed upon her.
Vision spoke, his voice hushed with cautious hope. "Is it possible?"
"This is my brother's work," the Daughter acknowledged, her tone direct yet compassionate. "His corruption, his defilement of this young girl's life force. But I have the power to counteract it."
At her words, the Father's eyes widened in alarm. He stared at his daughter in shock.
"No! You cannot do this—it will destroy the balance!" he protested sharply.
The Daughter met her father's objection with a look of profound sadness. "I have to do this. It is my nature." Her voice carried the weight of inevitability. "Isn't this our fault? Who brought such pain to them? Why should they suffer because of our arrogance and division?"
The Father opened his mouth to argue but found he had no answer.
After a long moment, he relented. "Very well, daughter."
Anakin's attention snapped to the Daughter, his eyes desperate and searching.
"Can you really save her?" The plea in his voice was unmistakable.
The Daughter nodded. She shifted into a more comfortable kneeling position and gestured to Spider-Man. "Lower her down, please."
Peter carefully laid Ahsoka on the ground, his movements reverent and gentle.
The Daughter turned to Anakin. "I will need your help to do this."
Without hesitation, Anakin knelt beside his Padawan, shoulder to shoulder with the Daughter, awaiting her instructions.
Then, the Daughter's gaze shifted to the other figure—"And you."
Spider-Man blinked in surprise behind his mask, pointing at himself. "Wait, what? Me?" He shook his head in confusion. "How can I help with something like this? I don't have any Force powers or—"
"It is precisely because you lack those abilities that you can have a greater influence on what is about to happen," the Daughter explained calmly. "The transfer of life energy is delicate work. It requires a donor, a recipient, and an anchor."
T'Challa slowly looked up at the storm-torn sky above them. "We cannot delay any longer," he observed quietly.
Everyone nodded in agreement. The three participants prepared themselves for what was to come.
The Daughter instructed Anakin and Spider-Man to adjust Ahsoka's position until she lay flat on the ground, with Anakin positioned on her left and Spider-Man on her right.
Spider-Man fidgeted nervously. "Okay, so what exactly am I supposed to do here?"
Obi-Wan's calm voice cut through the tension. "Peter, just relax. Whatever happens, remember our training—the sensory exercises. Let everything flow through you naturally. You'll know what to do when the time comes."
Though still uneasy, Spider-Man nodded. He looked down at Ahsoka again, at her lifeless eyes and pale features. In that moment, his resolve hardened like steel.
He took a deep breath and locked eyes with Anakin across Ahsoka's body. They nodded to each other in silent understanding—the signal that the Daughter could begin.
The Daughter closed her eyes and began to breathe slowly, deliberately. She raised her hands toward the sky. With each inhalation and exhalation, her body briefly flared brighter before dimming again. But with each cycle, her glow intensified.
The pattern continued for several seconds until she became an almost blinding pillar of pure light. Vision, T'Challa, and Obi-Wan had to squint or shield their eyes against the radiance.
The Father watched in silence, his expression heavy with sorrow and regret. The Daughter had gathered the strength she needed. She extended her hands toward the two figures flanking Ahsoka.
When she touched Anakin's shoulder, white light enveloped the Jedi Knight's body. His form took on a golden-white luminescence, and his irises disappeared into pure white brilliance.
Anakin's hands moved of their own accord, one coming to rest on top of Ahsoka's head, the other over her heart.
When the Daughter's touch reached Spider-Man, he felt something different from what Anakin and the Daughter were experiencing. It was distinct but equally powerful and mysterious. His eyes flashed a brilliant white-blue light, and his hand settled gently over Ahsoka's heart. The glow shone through his white lenses, creating a striking contrast against the black portions of his suit.
Both were pulled into an indescribable state of consciousness.
For Anakin, it felt as if he stood at the very center of the Force itself. The energy of the universe danced and roared within and around him, heightening every sense beyond normal limits. This was unlike anything he had ever experienced before.
Oneness. He was one with the Force. He had heard of this ability from many Jedi—spoken of in hushed, reverent tones—but few could even approach achieving it. Such a state required years of disciplined practice or emerged only in once-in-a-lifetime moments during life-or-death struggles.
He felt unbound by time and space, experiencing all timelines, all places, all events simultaneously. From microscopic atoms to vast star clusters, Anakin could perceive it all—and it was all focused, channeled, concentrated on Ahsoka.
Meanwhile, Spider-Man experienced something completely different. He felt as if he were swimming—or falling—through an endless void. The sensation was impossible to describe.
"What is this?" he wondered aloud, though he wasn't sure if he'd actually spoken.
"Help!"
Spider-Man's eyes widened beneath his mask. He recognized that voice instantly—it was Ahsoka calling out.
"Ahsoka!" he shouted back. Though he wasn't certain whether he'd vocalized it or only thought it, he knew he'd responded. He looked around frantically, trying to focus, to hear her voice again. But there was nothing.
Then, again: "Help!"
Where is she? Peter's mind raced.
"Okay, think—what did she mean by 'anchor'..." The thought crystallized in his mind. Even though he felt powerless, he kept moving, searching for any trace of Ahsoka in this strange abyss.
Obi-Wan's words echoed in his memory: "Whatever happens, remember our training. Let everything flow through you naturally. You'll know what to do."
He focused on his purpose—to be Ahsoka's anchor. To let everything flow naturally.
Peter closed his eyes and simply... waited. Trusted. In the darkness around him, tiny fragments began to appear, floating like asteroids in space.
He reached out instinctively and fired a web-line toward a distant floating object. The webbing connected, and he pulled, swinging his body through this metaphysical space as he searched for his friend.
With each movement, the oppressive weight surrounding him lessened slightly.
Was this because of him? No—it had to be someone else helping.
The Daughter? Anakin? Both?
After regaining his equilibrium, he found himself suspended in what felt like empty space. He closed his eyes again and opened all his senses.
He waited there for several heartbeats until he felt something.
No—he felt her.
Spider-Man's eyes snapped open, his gaze locking onto a point in the distance. He fired another web-line.
This time, it seemed to pierce through an invisible barrier and grasp something solid on the other side.
As he pulled, Ahsoka's form gradually emerged from the darkness. She tumbled through the void and fell into his waiting arms.
"Ahsoka," he whispered, holding her close.
She didn't react at first. Then she trembled slightly. Her face was pale as death, her veins standing out black against her skin. But the moment he embraced her, those dark veins began to fade. Her bright orange skin tone gradually returned.
He watched as her eyes moved beneath closed eyelids. After a few seconds, they opened, revealing the crystal blue irises he knew so well.
Peter felt a surge of relief. At least they were no longer the disturbing, paranoid yellow they'd been before.
Ahsoka looked dazed and disoriented. After a moment, her gaze focused on the boy holding her.
"Peter?" she asked softly.
That was all they managed before light surrounded and consumed them both, enveloping them completely.
Ahsoka's body gradually regained its vitality. Her dull complexion was replaced by healthy color, and the prominent black veins faded away entirely.
For a time, everything fell into silence except for the occasional labored breath.
Suddenly, a violent convulsion wracked Ahsoka's body, causing her to jerk sideways. But the spasm forced precious oxygen back into her lungs.
"Whoa, Ahsoka," a familiar voice said nearby. "You've been through quite an ordeal."
"Let her recover at her own pace," another voice cautioned.
Ahsoka managed to push herself into a sitting position. Though her vision remained blurry, she gradually regained her sense of surroundings. The first person she saw clearly was Anakin Skywalker, his face filled with relief and joy, his eyes bright with unshed tears.
"Master?" she asked, her voice hoarse. "Master?"
Her master chuckled softly before pulling his Padawan into an embrace. "Hey, Snips." His voice was thick with emotion.
As Ahsoka's gaze moved to the other figures gathered around her—Jedi Masters and Avengers alike—confusion creased her features. She noticed Spider-Man nearby, his mask pulled up to reveal his face, his eyes still glowing faintly with residual light.
"Um... what... what just happened?" she asked, her voice scratchy and weak.
"You want the short version, or the long version where you're miraculously still alive?" Obi-Wan quipped with dry humor.
"That just confuses me more," Ahsoka said, a weak smile touching her lips. The comment drew soft laughter from those gathered around.
The moment of levity faded as a heavy, labored sigh cut through the air.
Everyone turned to see the Daughter on her hands and knees, breathing heavily. The Father knelt beside her. The Daughter's light had dimmed considerably—she was no longer the radiant beacon she'd been moments before.
Still, she looked up at Ahsoka and smiled with profound relief. The Father's eyes were filled with love as he gazed at his daughter, though obvious pain flickered there as well.