The portal closed behind Ethan and Gwen as they stepped back into the quiet, mahogany-scented foyer of the New York Sanctum. Gwen was practically glowing, a sharp contrast to the brooding, hooded figure Ethan had chased across the rooftops the night before.
"You're in a suspiciously good mood," Ethan remarked, tossing the shopping bags onto a nearby chair. "Did the billionaire's coffee have something extra in it?"
Gwen turned to him, her eyes bright. "Miss Potts offered me a job, Ethan. A real one. Assistant secretary in her office. She charmed by my intelligence. What can I say, I am a genius."
Ethan nodded, not surprised. Every version of a Spider-person he knew was a closet genius. "A secretary, huh? From multiversal vigilante to corporate assistant in twenty-four hours. That's a hell of a career pivot."
"It means I won't be a freeloader," Gwen said, her voice regaining some of its natural confidence. "I'll have my own income, my own life. I'm not just a 'ghost' in your house anymore."
"Good for you, Gwen. Genuinely," Ethan said. He was about to say more, but he suddenly felt a sharp, rhythmic tug at the back of his mindāa mystical resonance that vibrated through the Sanctum's wards.
He straightened up, his playful expression vanishing. "Alright, you have your fun and celebrate. I need to be somewhere. Don't touch the artifacts."
Before Gwen could even ask what was wrong, Ethan spun his fingers, and a sparking portal swallowed him whole.
"What the... are all sorcerers like this?" Gwen muttered to the empty room. "Just leaving a girl in a house full of cursed floating capes? Great."
****
Ethan stepped out of the sparks into the crisp, thin air of the Himalayas. He emerged in the middle of the training courtyard, where a group of new recruits were clumsily trying to form Eldritch shields under the watchful, judgmental eye of Karl Mordo.
Mordo turned, his face setting into its usual expression of deep-seated annoyance. "Ethan. I don't recall an invitation being sent to New York for a social visit."
"Mordo, my man! How have you been? Still allergic to fun, I see," Ethan called out, walking toward him with a grin.
Mordo's grip on his staff tightened. "You should be at your post."
"Hey, watch the tone," Ethan teased, wagging a finger. "In terms of seniority, I'm the Master of a Holy Place. You're... well, you're the guy who yells at kids. A little respect for your peers, maybe?"
Mordo's face darkened, a vein throbbing in his temple. "You lack discipline."
"And you'll get facial paralysis if you keep scowling like that. It's a medical fact," Ethan said, patting Mordo's shoulder as he walked past. "Relax. I'm not here for you. I sensed the Ancient One's calling. Back to work, recruits! If Mordo yells, just tell him he needs a hobby."
Ethan left a fuming Mordo behind and headed toward the inner sanctuary. He found the Ancient One sitting in a meditative pose, her back to the door. The air in the room was still, but heavy, as if the space itself was holding its breath.
"Master, you called?" Ethan asked, dropping the sarcasm as he stood behind her.
She didn't turn around. "You brought another trouble to the door, Ethan."
Ethan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey, I didn't 'bring' her. She fell into my lapāliterally. She's a girl from another dimension. I know her, Master. She's a hero where she comes from. She's not a threat."
"I did the same thing you did," Ethan continued, his voice firm. "You took me in even though I'm a 'glitch' from another world. I'm just paying the favor forward."
The Ancient One finally opened her eyes and stood, turning to face him. Her expression wasn't one of anger, but a heavy, prophetic warning.
"You and her are not the same, Ethan," she said softly. "You are a variable outside the equationāa soul that arrived without a thread, and thus, you leave no wake. But that girl? She is an anchor."
Ethan frowned. "An anchor? For what?"
"The web of fate entangling her is far more complicated than your own," the Ancient One explained, walking toward the balcony overlooking the peaks. "She is a Totem. In her world and many others, there is a Great Weaver. Her presence here is not just a 'fluke'āit is a tear in a much larger, older tapestry."
She looked back at him, her gaze piercing through his Master Sorcerer mask. "She has no intention of harming this world, this I know. But she is a beacon. There are forces that hunt her kindābeings that move between the lines of the multiverse to feed on those connected to the Web. By keeping her here, you have invited the eyes of predators toward our reality that we are not yet prepared to face."
Ethan felt a chill that had nothing to do with the Himalayan snow. He knew the loreāthe Inheritors, the multiversal hunters who treated Spider-variants like livestock. If they followed her here, the MCU wouldn't just be dealing with industrial saboteurs or Norse gods.
"So, what you're saying is... she's not the trouble," Ethan summarized, his jaw tightening. "She's the bait."
"Precisely," the Ancient One nodded. "Many more threads will follow her to this world. Are you prepared to protect the New York Sanctum from a destiny that does not belong to our history?"
Ethan looked out toward the horizon, thinking of Gwen, finally feeling like she had a life again.
"I took the job, Master," Ethan said, his voice low and dangerous. "If the 'Spider-Verse' wants to knock on my door, they're going to find out that magic doesn't play by the rules of their Web."
Author's Note:
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