Random Art
The morning light filtered through the half-open blinds, casting pale stripes across the coffee table.
Dante sat lazily on the shiny couch in his old apartment. Piotr had claimed the other end, remote in hand, flipping through channels. They'd both given up on finding anything good to watch.
Dante took another bite of the bread Piotr had brought—pirozhki, he'd called it, though Dante kept forgetting even with his enhanced intelligence. The savory chicken and mushroom filling melted on his tongue. Such a rich and buttery taste.
"I can have it everyday for breakfast," he mumbled through a mouthful. "Did you make it?"
Piotr's lips twitched. "My babushka's recipe. Yes, I cooked it for you."
Dante froze in the middle of a bite, and an awkward, somewhat worried frown crossed his face. "You know, Piotr… I don't swing… that way."
Piotr stared at him. "Comrade, will I be suspended for drowning you in an ice lake?"
Dante laughed. "Just kidding."
"I was not."
"..."
Dante finished the pirozhki and dusted crumbs from his shirt. "Hey, Piotr."
The Russian man turned slightly, eyebrows raised. "What is it now?"
"Why does the math look sad?"
Piotr's face went blank, completely devoid of emotions. It was like he'd heard this exact setup a thousand times before and knew what was coming. Piotr probably had. Crippler struck Dante as the type to torture others with dad jokes.
"Why?"
"It had too many problems."
The groan that escaped Piotr sounded like he was being subjected to torture. He pressed his palm against his face and shook his head slowly. "Please, Comrade. It is too early for this."
"Come on, it could've been worse."
"It was better than Crippler, I'll give you that." Piotr reached for the remote again and switched the channel again. "Just like these TV shows today—"
"Wait." Dante caught a familiar figure on the television and said, "Go back."
Piotr did so. The logo in the corner read Daily Bugle in bold. And front and center, taking up the entire screen was J. Jonah Jameson.
The man looked exactly like Dante imagined he would. With his signature mustache, those rolled up sleeves, and slightly loosened ties.
At this moment, Jonah Jameson's face was red as veins popped on his forehead. Spit actually flew from his mouth as he jabbed his finger at the camera as if pointing at the viewers at home.
"YOU have to decide SOON!"
Behind him, the screen cut to shaky phone footage in vertical style showing a street that seemed to be hit by a tornado. A car alarm blared in the background. There were shattered windows. Someone's motorcycle got buried under a pile of webbing and the entire storefront was left in ruins.
The white web everywhere made it easy to guess the culprit for such public property and who made JJJ so furious.
Gwen Stacy.
"This so-called hero has the audacity to destroy private property, endanger civilians, and parade around in a costume like this is some kind of circus." JJJ He slammed his fist on the desk, making the papers jump. "We don't need masked freaks playing vigilante just because they stumbled into some superpowers—if you can even call them that!"
The camera cut to another clip. This one showed Gwen swinging through the streets and landing in the middle of a gunfight between two gangs. Over twenty people. And within minutes, she webbed them all to the walls.
She was efficient, but the collateral damage was undeniable.
"I'm calling for justice!" JJJ roared. "Arrest this MENACE before someone dies! We have police! We have laws! We don't need masked freaks pretending to be above the laws! THIS MENACE NEEDS TO—"
The segment cut off before JJJ started throwing slurs, or so it appeared to Dante. They showed a reporter on the street interviewing bystanders. Opinions were divided on the new heroine. Some were grateful, some in pure awe of her powers, some naturally terrified and confused about what the hell was happening to their city. Of course, there were few fervently chanting Ghost Spider's name. Her own devoted fanbase.
Dante leaned back. "Well. She's already making a name for herself."
"That's the same woman who came to the facility the other day," Piotr said, eyes still on the screen. "The one who tried to stop you."
"You saw her?"
Piotr looked at him like he was an idiot. "Comrade, your own scouts recorded everything. Your battle too." He paused, discomfort crossing his face. "The way you killed them... by just saying 'Die'... it was terrifying."
Dante had been so focused on ending the threat quickly that he hadn't considered how it would look to everyone watching through security feeds.
"Did that scare you?"
"I don't want to be your enemy. How do you defend against someone who can kill me with one word?" He frowned, as though trying to work his mind for a solution against Dante's powers. "Sound isolation? If you can't speak, you can't activate the power, yes?"
Dante couldn't help but laugh. "I only said it to break their spirits. I don't even need to move a finger. Just a thought is enough."
Piotr went very, very quiet as the color drained from his face just, though he tried to hide it behind his usual stoic mask. Then, after a long moment, he nodded once. "Da. Then I am very glad Commander Sablinova recruited you. Even if she had to seduce you with her body."
Dante choked on nothing. "Actually, that one's on me."
His kiss after their sparring match had started everything. She'd been planning to keep things professional. He was the one who couldn't resist her.
Piotr's lips twitched. He was speechless.
Dante's phone buzzed on the coffee table, and the screen lit up with a notification. It was a reply from Felicia. A cat with blushing cheeks.
[Felicia: Sorry, just woke up.]
He glanced at the time: 9:35 AM. She was a lazy cat indeed, though not the worst time either.
Her reply came before he typed anything.
[Felicia: Don't judge me, darling. Astral form was draining.]
Fair enough. She'd spent an extra hour in the astral plane last night to map out elevator controls in the small tucked-away control center and security checkpoints. She had looked at an army of symbiote soldiers and said, "Nah, I'd steal."
[Dante: Morning.]
[Felicia: What are you up to now? Want to hang out at my place?]
Dante's fingers hovered over the keyboard, his mind revisiting the memory of her pressed against him, her perfume, and the way she felt. If he went to her apartment right now, alone, he'd do something he'd regret.
Or something he wouldn't regret, which was arguably worse.
Because his hands just couldn't get the job done.
[Dante: Not going to ESU?]
[Felicia: Lectures? Darling, I can skip my wedding to be with you.]
[Dante: Great. Do you know Gwen Stacy?]
Ghost Spider owed him a favor. And she had the moral compass and raw power to actually make a difference against Norman's symbiote army.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
[Felicia: 😱]
[Felicia: Darling, how bold. Gotta respect the grind to go after the honor student.]
Dante snorted. Of course she'd assume that.
[Dante: It's not what you think.]
[Felicia: Is she special like you? Like a mutant?]
[Felicia: Speaking of mutants, is that Ghost Spider also one?]
[Dante: No, she isn't.]
[Felicia: She didn't even flinch from bullets. I wish I could be as strong as her.]
[Felicia: 🥺]
[Felicia: Darling, when are you making me your special one?]
She was naturally referring to learning magic.
[Dante: We'll talk about that later. Can you invite Gwen to your place or some restaurant?]
[Felicia: And she'll go along with someone she has never talked to before. 🙄 My charm doesn't work on girls, sweetheart.]
What she said was reasonable. Gwen hung out with the rich kid Harry's group. There was no way Harry would let his friend leave with Felicia.
[Dante: I'll drop by your uni then.]
A pause before she sent a flurry of messages.
[Felicia: 😻]
[Felicia: Darling, are you going to grab me in front of everyone and announce "this lady is now mine!"?]
He heard her teasing voice through the text.
[Dante: Get down to earth. I'll be there soon.]
[Felicia: So serious...]
The big Russian had completely abandoned his channel surfing, his eyes locked onto Dante with a curious look.
"Commander doesn't text that much. Who was that?"
Dante winked. "My contact."
Forget texting, Silvija had forgotten someone named Dante existed in her life at all. She had barely looked away from the mountain of paperwork when he met her in the morning. She wasn't just busy. She was consciously avoiding him after last night.
He understood it was her way of sorting her thoughts and deciding if she wanted it or not. Still, her coldness stung a little.
"Piotr, you got Ava's number?"
The Russian's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "Why wouldn't I have it, Comrade? Before I give it to you, you must answer a question. Commander suspended Ava out of nowhere yesterday. Why?"
"Well, we had a fight, and she went feral." Dante spread his hands helplessly. "That's the gist of it."
"She is a good kid." Piotr looked unconvinced. "Hot-headed sometimes, yet. But she's kind at her core… I hope she gets back soon."
"She will."
Dante scrolled through the contacts on Piotr's phone until he found her name. Ava Ayala, with a tiger emoji next to it because of course there was. He hit the dial. The phone barely rang before she picked up, likely doom-scrolling out of boredom.
"Hey, Tiger."
Dead silence greeted him from the other end. She realized it was him, not Piotr, on the other side.
"What do you want?"
"Is that the attitude a loser should be taking?" He let out an easy-going laughter like he wasn't twisting the knife in her wounds. "Do one favor for me, and I'll ask Silvija to reinstate you. What do you say?"
She thought about it for a few seconds before replying, "You're being too nice for someone who wanted to kill me."
Fair point. He'd put his heel on her head hard enough to crater the mat beneath her skull. The memory was still fresh for both of them.
"A wise man once said 'Losers dwell on the past. Champions write the future.' Which one do you want to be?!" He roared out almost like a battle cry, filled with energy. "You gonna let one single loss define your entire identity, or use this embarrassment as fuel to come back ten times stronger?!"
In some alternate life, he could've made a killing as a motivational speaker.
"Winner!" Ava's fierce voice cracked through the speaker. "Of course I want to be a winner! I'm calling in for a rematch. RIGHT NOW."
Dante's enthusiasm deflated instantly. "You've learned nothing."
"What? You just said losers dwell on the past. And to be a winner, I have to defeat you fairly."
"Winners also learn from the past," he said with a disappointed sigh. "You think rushing back into the same fight will change the outcome? You'll get smoked."
"Then what the hell am I supposed to do?!" Frustration filled her voice. "I've pushed my body as hard as it'll go. Any more muscle and I lose speed. Any less and I lose strength. I'm maxed out… And you saw what happened when I tried accepting more of the amulet's power. I almost lost myself."
She wasn't wrong. The black stripes that had appeared on her suit, the feral madness in her eyes, and the beast-like instincts… she'd been only minutes away from becoming the White Tiger himself.
"There's still a way. A method that'll work for sure."
He'd read enough comics to know how the White Tiger Amulet worked and how she could amplify her strength and speed without sacrificing her sanity.
"What method?"
"I'll tell you if you do me that favor first."
""I'll do anything. I swear, I'll…" The desperation and eagerness in her voice was almost sympathizing. "I'll never give you my body."
Dante stared into space for a long moment. Objectively speaking, Ava was attractive with all lean muscle and a striking figure. The bratty aggression was a big turn-off for
him.
"Stay with Silvija. Stop her from doing anything reckless while I'm away." He thought for a moment before continuing, "Act like you're buttering her up to get yourself un-suspended. But really, you're watching her back."
"Of course I can do that for Sis." Ava's voice had gone soft at the mere mention of Silvija. "Why are you asking me this? Where are you?"
"You don't need to be concerned with it."
"Why won't you tell me?" Now she sounded whiny and pouty, almost like she wasn't trying to behead him less than twenty-four hours ago. "I'm not an idiot. If you need me protecting Sis, that means you are in some danger."
She was irritating as hell sometimes, but sharp. Maybe there was hope for Ava after all.
"Shhh. I'm on a big mission."
"Okay, whatever. How long do you want me to stick to her?"
"Just a week."
"Deal."
Just like that he had secured Silvija from rushing head-first at Norman. Although she probably won't, he couldn't write off that even the smartest people did stupid things.
"Alright. See you later, Tiger."
"You better not be lying about making me stronger, or I'll claw—"
He ended the call before she could finish the threat.
The big man wasn't watching television anymore. He wasn't looking at Dante either. His attention had shifted entirely to the small photo held gently in those enormous hands.
The photo was faded at the edges and a bit creased. It showed a little girl with blonde hair grinning at the camera. She wore an oversized winter coat and clutched a snowball bigger than her head.
Dante punched Piotr's bicep to pull him back to the present. "Tell me about your sister. The good memories. Not the sad stuff."
Piotr's thumb tenderly traced the edge of the photo. "Illyana… She was fearless and strong. Once, she climbed onto the roof to rescue the neighbor's cat. She was only six years old. Our mother was screaming, father was scrambling for a ladder, and Illyana…" He chuckled, eyes full of nostalgia and affection. "She just sat up there, petting that cat like it was nothing."
"Brave kid."
"The cat scratched her face when she tried to carry it down." Piotr shook his head, but the smile remained. "She just laughed and handed it to the neighbor. Said the cat was scared, so she forgave it."
Dante took the picture from Piotr's hands. "What about this picture? When was it taken?"
"The week she disappeared." Piotr's voice became hoarse, tight with emotions. "She dragged me outside for a snowball fight. Made me promise to play seriously. I let her win anyway. She knew… Got so angry at me. Said she wanted to beat me for real, not because I was holding back."
"Not the smartest move to fight a Russian bear. Ten points for courage though."
"Comrade, when Illyana wanted something, nothing stopped her. Nothing." Piotr tucked the photo back into his wallet. "She had an iron will. Like someone forged her in the Siberian winter itself."
The apartment fell quiet except for the low murmur of the television.
"Don't give up hope." Dante met Piotr's eyes directly. "I'm learning dimensional magic. If she's alive somewhere, I'll be able to reach her."
Piotr looked at him in surprise, not expecting to hear a promise from Dante. "Comrade... is that true?"
"I can't promise anything concrete, but I'll give it everything I have."
He had the Null Repository, giving him the power to potentially learn any power. If he couldn't find Magik in this universe, he'd just borrow one from another universe's Limbo.
Piotr was quiet for a long moment. His massive chest rose and fell with a deep breath, then spoke in a heavy voice, "In Mother Russia, we have a saying: 'Hope dies last.' I will never give up on her. Never."
"You're a good big brother." Dante stood and grabbed the motorcycle keys from the coffee table. "I need to see someone. I'll be borrowing your bike."
Piotr blinked, then laughed. A deep and rumbling laugh. "Not a big deal, Comrade. I'll take a cab back to the facility."
***
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