(Marvel, DC, the images, manhuas, and every anime mentioned or used in this story do not belong to me. They belong to their respective owners. The main character, Karito/Adriel Josue Valdez, and this story belong to me.)
Ace was simply tired.
He couldn't remember how many times drama had found its way to him, or how many people he'd listened to in Ixtal who seemed trapped in a constant state of depression. To be fair, he couldn't blame any of the surviving champions for feeling that way. The Darks had done a number on Runeterra, and everyone who remained had lost something.
Still, there was only so much grief and heavy sentimentality a person could sit through before it started dragging down their mood as well.
Ace was beginning to feel it.
At the moment, he was following Artoria through the streets of Viktor's newly relocated commune. She kept to herself, walking without any clear destination as though she had decided to let her feet carry her wherever they pleased. Ace had no idea where she was going, and he wasn't entirely sure she did either.
But she kept walking.
Artoria seemed fully aware that he was following her and didn't appear to mind. If anything, she might have welcomed the company. After nearly two minutes of walking ahead of him, she tilted her head, spotted him trailing behind, and deliberately slowed her pace.
Now they walked side by side in awkward silence.
Ace fidgeted with his left hand, unsure of what to say. Artoria had been harsh back there. Some of what she'd said had been unnecessary, and parts of it hadn't made complete sense, but he understood where it had come from.
Everyone in that room understood Adriel's pain.
Ace was upset with him too, but he wasn't angry—not the way Artoria had been. What Ace felt was closer to understanding. Adriel had made a terrible decision for reasons that, unfortunately, made sense to him.
Artoria had been the angriest of them all.
And now Ace was doing his best to calm a very angry woman without saying something that might make her even angrier. Fortunately, she didn't seem particularly furious anymore. The walk appeared to have taken some of the heat out of her.
At least, Ace hoped it had.
They eventually left the commune behind and made their way toward a cliff overlooking the distant lands where Piltover and Zaun stood. Artoria stopped near the edge, and Ace finally took a moment to appreciate the view.
It was a sight to behold.
The ocean stretched across the horizon, wide enough that its farthest edge seemed to blend into the sky. Looking at it reminded Ace of the world they had come from. Outside Ixtal's dome, nearly everything had been left in ruins. Ixtal itself had become that dimension's new utopia, one of the few places that had survived the devastation.
This world was different.
Here, everything still seemed intact. Piltover and Zaun remained standing. The ocean was undisturbed. The land hadn't been completely torn apart and stripped of what it was supposed to be.
Anansi hadn't defiled this world and its story.
At least, not yet.
Artoria sat on the edge of the cliff and stared into the distance. Her legs hung loosely over the drop, swinging slowly back and forth.
Ace remained standing behind her, still unsure of what to say. This had to be the most awkward walk he had ever taken. He didn't want to choose the wrong words and accidentally make everything worse.
Ever since he'd been kicked out of his own world and forced to travel through countless others, people seemed increasingly sensitive to what others said and increasingly quick to react. Much to his annoyance, every new world somehow felt worse than the one before it.
While Ace continued searching his mind for something safe to say, Artoria extended a hand and patted the grass beside her.
"Why don't you sit beside me? I don't mind your company."
The last few words came out in a quiet mumble.
Ace looked at her. For several seconds, he stood there like a dumbass, apparently forgetting how invitations worked. Then his brain finally caught up, and he lowered himself onto the grass beside her.
Artoria looked down at her lap, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her skirt.
"I'm sorry for my outburst," she said.
Concern settled across Ace's face.
"Look, I understand where you're coming from. I really do." He turned slightly toward her. "Maybe a few of those words were unnecessary, but everyone in that room understands why you were upset. Even Peter understands."
He paused before continuing.
"But I'm sure you understand why Adriel did it. You, of all people, should know."
Artoria gave a small nod.
"Yeah. I know."
Her grip on her skirt loosened, though her gaze remained lowered.
"It's just... when I saw him, he reminded me of who I was before I became a Dark. Of my story—my legend."
A quiet chuckle escaped her, but there was no happiness behind it.
"Artoria Pendragon, also known as King Arthur."
She sighed.
"I became so used to wearing a mask that I forgot how to be myself. Then, when my legend ended, it became one Holy Grail after another." Her eyes drifted toward the horizon. "And eventually, my bad end came."
Another sigh left her, softer than the first.
Ace placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I know, Artoria. I know."
He spoke gently, choosing each word with the care of someone watering the most delicate flower in a garden, afraid that too much at once might do more harm than good.
Ace leaned back slightly and lifted his gaze toward the sky.
"It's been hard, hasn't it? This new life, these responsibilities, the titles we've been given... None of it has been easy, especially over these past few months."
He released a slow breath.
"I've changed a lot compared to who I was before. All of us have."
Ace glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
"So, like Adriel said before—and please don't take this the wrong way—he does care about us. He just needs to learn how to accept help when things get difficult. He spent so long doing everything alone that relying on other people doesn't come naturally to him."
His hand remained on her shoulder.
"Sure, he accepted help sometimes. I remember the messages we used to send each other. He would tell me about his past missions and everything that happened during them. Other people helped him, but he was almost always the one doing the heavy lifting. At least most of it."
Ace returned his attention to the sky.
"So let's calm down for now. The next time something happens, things will be different, because all of us are here now."
His expression grew more serious.
"And if Adriel does something as stupid as playing the hero again—if he tries carrying all our burdens when none of us asked him to—we'll remind him that the burden, the suffering, and the responsibility belong to all of us."
Artoria finally lifted her head.
"None of us wants to watch a friend suffer alone in the dark while pretending everything is fine." Ace gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "That includes you, Artoria. You don't have to deal with your emotions alone. I'm more than willing to sit here and listen to every single one of your rants."
He allowed the sincerity to linger for another moment.
"Although, if this becomes a regular thing, I expect to be knighted. 'Sir Ace, Royal Listener of Rants' has a nice ring to it."
A laugh slipped through Artoria's sniffle. She gently smacked him on the shoulder.
"You almost had me there," she said. "You became all philosophical for a moment, and then you had to ruin the mood."
Her smile widened.
"You're so silly, Ace."
After everything that had happened—the argument, the anger, and the painful discussion that followed—Artoria had finally smiled.
For Ace, that was more than enough.
The two of them continued talking for a while longer.
Ace was more than relieved to see Artoria's mood improve after everything they had exchanged. Maybe he should have been proud of himself. It seemed he was actually getting good at this whole sentimentality thing.
Still, he probably shouldn't get too cocky. Life had a habit of screwing people over the moment they started feeling proud of themselves.
But that didn't matter right now.
What mattered was the sight beside him—the portrait unfolding right before his eyes as Artoria laughed. It was something Ace knew he would always remember. More than that, he wanted her to keep laughing like this, no matter what came next.
Somewhere between thirty minutes and an hour passed while they sat talking at the edge of the cliff. Neither of them paid enough attention to know exactly how long it had been.
Eventually, Artoria released a satisfied sigh. Then, without warning, she leaned against Ace and rested her head on his shoulder.
The pirate visibly stiffened.
He hadn't expected that.
After a moment, however, the surprise faded from his body. Ace relaxed and glanced down at her from the corner of his eye. One stubborn spike of blond hair pressed into his cheek, poking him every time she shifted.
He found it funnier than he probably should have.
"Hey, your spiky blond hair is stabbing me in the cheek. Well, not all of it. Just this one determined little bastard."
Artoria immediately pouted.
"Do not ruin the mood," she said. "You tried so hard to calm me down, yet you still cannot help yourself. You always have to make a joke."
Ace sighed and chuckled.
"It's fine. I'm only messing with you." He settled more comfortably beside her. "Stay there for as long as you want, Artoria. We can return to the others later."
"Mhm..."
She hummed quietly and remained against his shoulder.
A comfortable silence settled between them. For several seconds, neither of them felt any need to disturb it.
Then Artoria's stomach decided to ruin the moment for both of them.
The growl was loud enough for her face to turn red.
Ace's mouth curved into a knowing smirk.
"Well, well, well. The black hole strikes again."
He laughed, and Artoria immediately lifted her head from his shoulder to smack him gently.
"Oh, shut up! You eat just as much as I do!"
"Yeah, we both eat a lot, but damn. Sometimes you just keep going."
Ace paused as a memory surfaced.
"Wait, didn't you say something about that one time?" His eyes narrowed as he tried to recall the exact exchange. "I remember one of the messages we sent through Adriel's Gamer System. You said one of your favorite things was eating—"
Artoria quickly covered his mouth.
"Shut up! I know where you're going with this. Stop!"
She sounded annoyed, but not genuinely so. Ace could see it in her face, which only encouraged him further.
The moment he got his mouth free, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"I bet your favorite sport is eating."
Artoria threatened to pull out Excalibur and hit him with it, though there was no real danger behind the warning.
Ace only laughed.
"Ah, you won't. Who else is going to keep up with your mood swings? Apparently, I'm the only one who can." His teasing smile softened. "Besides, I'm happy right where I am."
Artoria clicked her tongue and turned away from him, hiding the blush spreading across her face.
"You're such an idiot," she mumbled.
Ace leaned closer.
"What was that? I didn't quite catch it."
That was the worst thing he could have done.
Artoria immediately bonked him on the head.
"Ow! What the fuck?!"
She looked at him with a smug little smile.
"That is what you get."
Artoria rose to her feet and began brushing the blades of grass clinging to her dress.
"Well, I am hungry, and if I am hungry, that means you must be hungry as well." She looked down at him. "Let's find something to eat before we return to the others."
Ace smiled, released a resigned sigh, and got to his feet.
"All right, fine. Just don't eat through the restaurant's entire stock. I don't think they'll appreciate going bankrupt because one person emptied their kitchen."
Artoria's pout returned.
"I swear, I am going to hit you with Excalibur."
Ace had already begun walking away.
"Nah, you won't."
Artoria followed close behind him, wearing an angry pout that looked far cuter than threatening.
⟡ ⟡ ⟡
Nearly two hours had passed before Ace and Artoria began making their way back to Adriel's house in Viktor's commune. They had eaten lunch after their conversation, and the time away appeared to have helped Artoria settle her emotions.
Before they could reach Adriel's home, however, they crossed paths with Caitlyn halfway through the commune.
Something about her seemed off. Her posture remained upright and composed, but her hands shifted restlessly at her sides, betraying a nervous energy that looked strange on her.
Caitlyn didn't recognize either of them, at least not personally. Still, judging by their unfamiliar faces and the way they were dressed, she quickly came to a reasonable conclusion: these had to be the people Adriel had brought as backup.
Unfortunately, Caitlyn hadn't been given nearly as many details as the others. Her relationship with Adriel had never progressed beyond that of an acquaintance, despite nearly a month of effort on her part. Somewhere along the way, he had more or less become the commune's second leader. At times, it even felt as though he had taken over completely, although Viktor continued fulfilling the same responsibilities he'd handled before Adriel—and later Sky—began working alongside him.
When Caitlyn drew closer, she greeted them respectfully, though a trace of unusual shyness slipped through her formal demeanor.
"Good afternoon. I don't believe we've been introduced." She inclined her head. "I'm Caitlyn Kiramman."
"Ace," he replied with his usual casual ease. "Nice to meet you."
Artoria returned Caitlyn's courtesy with equal grace.
"Artoria Pendragon. The pleasure is mine."
Caitlyn's eyes moved between them. She was fairly confident in her assumption, but she wanted to confirm it before embarrassing herself.
"Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but are you two comrades of Adriel's? I was told he intended to bring others here to assist him."
Artoria nodded.
"We are. Adriel asked us to come, along with one more back at his home."
A flicker of relief crossed Caitlyn's face. Her assumption had been correct.
"Then I'm glad you're here," she said sincerely. "This commune has already benefited greatly from Adriel's presence. Viktor had done remarkable work before his arrival, of course, but once Sky and Adriel began helping him, the quality of life here improved by a considerable margin."
Her attention briefly wandered toward the commune surrounding them.
"Having more people like him around can only help."
Ace and Artoria exchanged a short glance at that, though neither commented.
Caitlyn straightened slightly.
"If neither of you has had an opportunity to familiarize yourselves with the commune, I would be happy to give you a tour. Unless that was precisely what you were doing before we encountered one another."
Ace waved off the offer, though not dismissively.
"We appreciate it, but we just finished doing exactly that. You don't need to trouble yourself."
"I see." Caitlyn gave another polite nod. "Of course."
Artoria continued studying her.
There was something unusual about Caitlyn's behavior. She appeared almost... shy.
That didn't match the woman Artoria remembered. According to both her own memories and the additional information supplied by Passive Knowledge, Caitlyn Kiramman was supposed to be far more confident than this. She could be awkward in certain personal situations, perhaps, but the woman standing before them looked genuinely uneasy.
"Are you all right?" Artoria asked.
The question caught Caitlyn off guard.
"Yes, of course." She quickly waved away the concern. "There's no need to worry. I'm perfectly fine."
Artoria's eyes narrowed slightly as she examined her.
"Are you afraid of us?"
Caitlyn did a double take.
Her mouth opened, but no immediate answer came. She lowered her gaze toward the ground as though the right response might be hidden somewhere beneath her feet.
Ace raised an eyebrow. He could have stepped in, but he was more than happy to let Artoria handle the conversation.
Several seconds passed before Caitlyn finally answered.
"Perhaps a little," she admitted. "But that isn't all of it."
Artoria's eyebrow rose, mirroring Ace's expression.
"What do you mean?"
Caitlyn hesitated again, yet something about Artoria made withholding the truth feel strangely unnecessary. Artoria was beautiful, certainly, but beauty alone did not explain it. There was a quiet, almost divine authority around her—something gentle beneath the majesty—that made Caitlyn feel she could speak freely and still be heard without judgment.
She released a quiet breath.
"Ever since Adriel arrived, he has kept me at arm's length. I don't know why."
Ace's casual expression became more attentive.
"For nearly a month, I've tried to get on his good side," Caitlyn continued. "I've been respectful. I've offered my assistance whenever possible. Yet he always gives me the cold shoulder."
Her frustration became more visible with every word.
"I've watched him interact with nearly everyone here, and he seems to get along with all of them. But whenever I approach him, his entire mood changes. He becomes colder, as though my presence alone is enough to irritate him."
Artoria listened without interrupting.
"I asked Vi if she knew why he seemed to loathe me," Caitlyn said. "She didn't. All she could tell me was that Adriel has a tendency to know things—sometimes far too much. Things no one should know unless they had been told directly."
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"I didn't particularly like that answer. Especially because it was the second time Vi had given it to me. She said something similar before the Noxian forces attempted to invade the commune."
By the time Caitlyn finished, a pensive frown had settled across Ace's face.
He had a fairly good idea why Adriel might dislike her. Considering what they knew about Caitlyn's story—and what Adriel likely knew—it wasn't difficult to reach a conclusion.
Ace wasn't about to say it, though.
He kept his mouth firmly shut.
Artoria glanced at him, and the look in her eyes suggested she had reached the same conclusion.
Caitlyn noticed the exchange.
"You know something," she said. It wasn't quite an accusation, but it came close. "Both of you do. I can see it on your faces."
Artoria turned her attention back to her.
"We may have our suspicions, but it would not be right for us to speak on Adriel's behalf." Her tone remained respectful but firm. "If you truly wish to understand his feelings toward you, then you should speak to him directly."
Frustration tightened Caitlyn's expression, but she quickly brought it under control.
These were Adriel's comrades. Allowing her emotions to get the better of her in front of people like them would have been stupid. Vi moving into Adriel's home had already left Caitlyn in a sour enough mood without her making matters worse for herself.
Besides, this wasn't the first time Adriel had made her uneasy.
A few days after the battle with the so-called Spider-God everyone kept mentioning, Caitlyn had shared a brief conversation with him. His warning had been simple enough, yet somehow cryptic as hell.
"Never tell your team in Piltover what happened here," Adriel had told her. "Don't tell them anything about us. If you do, I'll know."
The memory sent another faint chill along Caitlyn's skin.
It had sounded like a threat. There was no polite way to interpret it otherwise.
What unsettled her even more was that Adriel had said it directly in front of Vi. Either Vi hadn't noticed the threat hidden beneath his words, or she had noticed and simply hadn't reacted.
Caitlyn still wasn't sure which possibility bothered her more.
She pushed the memory aside and refocused on the two people before her. They had no need for a tour, and judging by the way they stood together, they appeared to want some time to themselves.
There was little else she could offer them.
"Then I won't keep you any longer," Caitlyn said, recovering her formal composure. "It was a pleasure meeting you both."
Artoria inclined her head.
"Likewise."
Ace gave her a small wave.
"See you around."
Caitlyn turned and continued along the path, leaving Ace and Artoria behind.
Once she had put some distance between them, Ace looked toward Artoria with open curiosity.
"So... what do you think her problem was?"
The entire exchange had been awkward, but Ace couldn't deny that it had also been interesting. Apparently, Adriel genuinely disliked Caitlyn, and not just in the casual way someone might find another person annoying.
Artoria sighed.
"I can guess his reasons, but our choices are to ask Adriel or leave the matter alone." She looked toward Caitlyn's retreating figure. "Personally, I would rather not involve myself. Whatever his reasons may be, they appear to be personal."
Ace considered that for all of a second before shrugging.
"Fair enough. I don't really care anyway."
With that settled, the two resumed walking through the commune and continued toward Adriel's home.
While Ace and Artoria made their way back toward Adriel's home, the others had found another way to pass the time.
They had already finished Extraction 2. Dinner would come later, probably accompanied by another movie, but nobody wanted to spend the entire afternoon staring at the television.
That was how Peter and Vi ended up sitting across from each other at the coffee table with a game of Connect Four between them.
Vi looked ready to throw the entire board through a window.
Peter looked insufferably pleased with himself.
Another red disc dropped into place.
Four connected diagonally.
Vi stared at the board for several seconds before slamming her palm against the table.
"How the fuck do you keep doing that?"
Peter leaned back with a smug little smile. "Doing what?"
"Connecting four, asshole."
"Oh, that." His smile widened. "Practice."
"Bullshit." Vi pointed accusingly at the board. "Every time I block you, you've already got another line somewhere I didn't notice. And I'm looking. I'm carefully checking everything, but you still keep fucking winning."
Peter chuckled.
"It's all about controlling where you look. I place a disc somewhere threatening, so your attention automatically goes there. While you're busy stopping that line, I've already started building another one."
Vi's glare deepened.
Peter gestured toward the board. "This is, what, the fourth time I've fooled you with basically the same trick?"
She stared at him suspiciously.
"Are you reading my mind?"
Peter blinked.
"Because if you are, stop it. It's getting really fucking annoying."
"I'm not reading your mind."
"You're a psychic spider person. How am I supposed to know?"
From the kitchen, Adriel called out, "He's probably not reading your mind."
Vi glanced toward him.
"Probably?"
Adriel continued working without looking away from the counter. "I don't supervise what Peter does with his weird spider brain."
Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm not reading her mind."
"Then how do you keep winning?"
Peter shrugged. "Like Adriel told you earlier, it sounds like a skill issue."
Vi's eyes narrowed.
She plucked one of the loose discs from the table and threw it at his face.
Peter's hand moved almost casually.
He caught it between two fingers without taking his eyes off her.
Vi clicked her tongue. "You and your stupid reflexes. I can never catch you off guard."
"Well, in my defense, I have a sixth sense."
"You have a lot of things that sound unfair."
Peter turned the disc between his fingers.
"My spider-sense warns me when something dangerous is coming toward me. It can also pick up hostile intent, suspicious behavior, and sometimes whether someone is lying."
Vi crossed her arms. "So it does help you cheat."
"No. Connect Four is not dangerous enough to trigger it."
"I threw something at you."
"And I knew you were going to throw it before it left your hand."
"That sounds like cheating."
Peter placed the disc back on the table.
"I knew it was coming toward me, knew it wasn't going to hurt, and let my body react instead of hesitating. Spider-sense reacts to almost anything directed at me."
He considered it for a moment.
"It's kind of like an advanced version of Ultra Instinct."
Vi's expression went blank.
"Ultra what?"
Peter waved a hand. "You wouldn't get it. It's from an anime."
"What the hell is an anime?"
Adriel paused in the kitchen.
He slowly turned his head toward her with an expression of deep concern.
Peter answered before Adriel could begin whatever speech had just formed inside his head.
"Animated shows from Japan. The one I'm talking about is Dragon Ball."
Vi glanced toward the television. "Is it on Netflix?"
"I don't think so, but we can probably install Crunchyroll." Peter looked toward the kitchen. "Right?"
Adriel returned to his cooking. "I can install whatever the hell I want."
Peter nodded as though that settled everything.
"If you like fighting and ridiculous amounts of violence, you'll probably love Dragon Ball."
Vi looked thoughtful.
"Sounds better than sitting around doing nothing. Is it a movie or a series?"
"A series. You start with Dragon Ball, then Dragon Ball Z, and then Dragon Ball Super."
Peter hesitated.
"There's also Dragon Ball GT, but it got retconned, so technically we can ignore it."
He looked almost personally offended by that fact.
"Which sucks, because it had one of the best transformations of all time. The ratings weren't great, though."
Vi clearly did not understand half of what he had just said, but the promise of fights had already won her over.
"Alright. Tell me when you're gonna watch it."
Peter smiled. "Sounds like a plan."
While the two continued talking, the smell coming from the kitchen finally drew Vi's attention away from the game.
She lifted her head and breathed in slowly.
Something rich and savory hung in the air: browned meat, crisp bacon, melted cheese, and the faint sweetness of fried plantains mixing with the warm scent of baking dough.
Vi turned toward the kitchen.
Adriel had taken over almost every available surface.
He was preparing one of the specialty pizzas served at his uncle's old restaurant. The recipe was called La Vista, although the version he remembered was meant for one person.
That was not going to work here.
There were six people in the house once Ace and Artoria returned, and two of them ate like famine was a personal challenge. Adriel had therefore converted the recipe into a family-sized pizza.
Then he decided to make eight of them.
For most households, eight family-sized pizzas would have been excessive.
For a house containing Ace and Artoria, it was basic preparation.
Adriel had already divided the dough into large portions and left them beneath clean cloths until they rose. One by one, he rolled them out across the counter, turning each into a broad circle with a thick enough edge to hold the mountain of toppings he intended to place over it.
He spread the white sauce first, pushing it evenly across the dough with the back of a spoon. Mozzarella followed, along with generous pieces of queso de papa scattered over the surface.
At the stove, ground beef sizzled in one pan while strips of bacon crisped in another. Adriel moved between them with practiced ease, seasoning the beef, flipping the bacon, and checking the pizzas without ever seeming rushed.
The sweet plantains came next.
He sliced the ripe amarillos into thick pieces and fried them until their edges caramelized. Once they cooled enough to handle, he arranged them over the cheese with the browned ground beef and chopped bacon.
Thin slices of red onion added color and bite.
Fresh cilantro would go on after baking.
The final topping required its own preparation. Adriel peeled and cut the yautía into fine strips, then fried them until they became crisp enough to crack between his fingers. Those would be scattered across the pizzas at the end, giving every slice a crunchy finish.
He worked with a quiet focus that had been absent from him for most of the day.
There was something familiar in the process.
The smell of the dough.
The sound of meat sizzling in a pan.
The careful placement of each ingredient.
For a little while, the kitchen did not belong to Viktor's relocated commune or a world under threat from a Dark. It reminded him of Puerto Rico. Of family restaurants, loud kitchens, familiar voices, and the kind of work that exhausted the body without tearing apart the mind.
Cooking was simple: people were hungry, so he made food and they ate. There were no corrupted narratives, impossible moral decisions, or enemies editing the outcome before he could reach it.
There was only dinner.
Vi watched him slide the first two pizzas into the oven.
Then she looked at Peter.
"Has he always been this good at cooking?"
Peter followed her gaze.
Adriel had already started assembling the next batch while checking the first through the oven window.
"For as long as I've known him? Yeah."
"He moves around like he's done this for fifty years."
"He technically has a cooking skill."
Vi looked back at Peter. "A skill?"
"Part of his whole Gamer thing. It improves the more he uses it."
Peter glanced toward Adriel.
"And knowing him, it's probably gone way past god level by now."
Vi raised an eyebrow. "God-level cooking."
"Pretty much."
"That sounds fake."
"In our lives, that barely makes the list."
Vi considered that and reluctantly nodded.
"Fair."
Peter leaned back in his chair.
"That's why we usually let him cook. Anything the rest of us could make would probably taste disappointing afterward. Plus, he doesn't complain about it."
Adriel immediately called from the kitchen, "I complain about plenty."
"Not about cooking."
"That's because none of you are allowed to touch my knives."
Vi snorted.
Peter smiled faintly, but his eyes remained on Adriel.
"He likes doing it."
There was something in his tone that made Vi study him.
Peter searched for the right word.
"I guess it's nostalgic for him."
Vi looked confused. "Nostalgic?"
Peter's gaze stayed on Adriel as he brushed the crust of another pizza with oil.
"It reminds him of things from before all this."
"What things?"
Peter was quiet for a moment.
Then he shook his head.
"That's a complicated topic. A long one too, and I'd rather not tell his story for him."
Vi continued looking at him, curiosity lingering behind her eyes.
But she did not push.
"Okay."
The oven timer chimed.
Adriel opened it, and a wave of heat rolled through the kitchen. The first pizzas came out with the cheese melted into the white sauce, the edges browned, and the sweet plantains caramelized over the meat and bacon.
He finished them with fresh cilantro and a generous handful of crispy yautía.
The smell filled the entire house.
Vi immediately abandoned the Connect Four board.
Peter looked at the unfinished game.
"You know, we weren't done."
"You were going to win."
"I was."
"Then congratulations."
Vi stood and walked toward the kitchen.
Adriel pointed a spatula at her without turning around.
"Touch one before dinner and I'm cutting off your Netflix."
Vi stopped in place.
"You wouldn't."
Adriel finally looked at her.
"Try me."
For several seconds, they stared at each other.
Vi slowly backed away from the pizza.
Peter smiled from the sofa.
Maybe spider-sense was not necessary to know how that confrontation would end.
A little more time passed before Adriel finished everything needed for the late-night dinner.
All eight pizzas sat neatly across the dining table, each one arranged on its own oversized plate. The white sauce still glistened beneath melted mozzarella and queso de papa, while the ground beef, bacon, sweet plantains, red onion, cilantro, and crispy yautía covered the surface in generous layers.
It was an absurd amount of food.
Adriel knew exactly who he was feeding.
He had just placed the final pizza at the far end of the table when the front door opened.
He didn't need any special senses to know who it was.
Ace and Artoria stepped inside.
Adriel straightened beside the table and looked toward them.
"Hey, um..."
The greeting came out more awkwardly than he intended.
Things were still strange between him and Artoria after their argument. He did not know whether she was still angry, whether she wanted to continue the conversation, or whether pretending everything was normal would only make it worse.
Still, Ace had followed her for a reason. Judging by Artoria's calmer expression, he had probably succeeded in helping her settle down.
Adriel decided not to overthink it.
"So... did y'all have a nice walk?"
Artoria met his gaze.
For a brief moment, neither of them said anything.
Then she offered a small but genuine smile.
"Yes. It was lovely."
Adriel's shoulders loosened slightly.
Artoria turned toward the dining table, her eyes widening at the eight massive pizzas waiting there.
"And I see you have outdone yourself."
"Yeah." Adriel glanced toward the food. "I remembered one of the recipes from one of my uncles' restaurants back in the real world, so I decided to make it."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"It's one of my favorites. You guys would've loved it if he made it himself, but..."
Adriel paused.
The smell filling the house brought back more memories than he wanted to explain.
"I guess I felt nostalgic."
He had borrowed that word from Peter after overhearing his conversation with Vi earlier.
It fit better than anything Adriel had come up with himself.
Ace smiled as he examined the pizzas.
"Well, we already ate, but I'm not turning down food that's already on the table." He pulled out a chair. "Count me in."
Artoria sat beside him with considerably more grace, although the interest in her eyes betrayed how ready she was to eat again.
Adriel walked toward the refrigerator and pulled out several gallon containers of juice. Apple, pineapple, and orange were the basic choices, and the sodas were already sitting on the table.
If anyone wanted something else, they could get it themselves.
He wasn't running a restaurant.
Not officially, anyway.
Once the drinks were placed down, Adriel glanced toward the staircase.
Vi and Peter were still downstairs in the gym.
While he had been finishing the pizzas, he had heard the occasional thud beneath the floor, followed by Vi complaining and Peter laughing. Whatever was happening down there, Peter was probably teasing her into an early grave.
Jinx remained upstairs in her room.
Adriel could sense her moving around inside, accompanied by the clinking of metal and the whirring of tools.
She was still working.
Probably trying to build something that might hurt Anansi.
Adriel knew it wouldn't, but Jinx refused to accept that.
He would deal with that later.
For now, he headed downstairs.
The lower floor opened into the gym Vi had requested when he built the house. Heavy bags hung from reinforced beams. Training mats covered most of the floor, surrounded by weights, benches, and equipment that looked more modern than anything Runeterra should have possessed.
Peter stood in the middle of the mat, demonstrating a kick.
His body turned sharply, one foot pivoting while the other leg snapped through the air with speed and control. He stopped the motion before completing the strike, then reset his stance.
Vi watched him closely.
It appeared Peter had begun showing her pieces of the fighting style Adriel had taught him years ago, back when Peter had still been Spider-Boy and was training to become Spider-Man before the Infinity War.
The Way of the Spider.
Peter raised his hands.
"See, if you throw that punch from your boxing stance, I can slip outside it and counter from here."
He demonstrated, shifting past an imaginary punch and striking toward the ribs.
"Or I can redirect it this way."
His forearm moved across the imagined attack before he pivoted behind the opponent's shoulder.
"And if you overcommit, I can do this."
Peter hooked his leg around Vi's ankle without actually sweeping her and placed two fingers lightly against her back.
Vi looked unimpressed.
"Well, of course you can counter it. You're superhuman."
Peter lowered his hands.
Vi crossed her arms. "I bet I could kick your ass if I had my gauntlets."
Peter snorted.
"I destroyed a planet."
"That doesn't mean you can fight."
"You're barely street level."
Vi's eyes narrowed.
"I'm above street level."
"Sure you are."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night."
They continued bickering while Adriel stood near the entrance, watching them.
Peter had always possessed an irritating talent for befriending people quickly. He could meet someone, annoy them for ten minutes, and somehow end up acting as if they had known each other for years.
Of course, writers also had a habit of turning him into a man-child whenever they ran out of ideas.
Adriel wished they would move on from that already.
It was getting annoying.
Ignoring that thought, he stepped into the room.
"Hey, guys. Food's ready."
Vi immediately turned.
Adriel pointed toward the stairs. "Ace and Artoria are already upstairs, so unless you want me to keep them waiting while you two argue over who's more street level, let's go."
Vi's expression brightened.
"Fucking finally! I've been waiting this whole time. What took you so long?"
She was already walking past Peter before she finished complaining.
Adriel smirked.
"You can't rush perfection."
Vi bumped her shoulder into his chest as she passed.
"Yeah, whatever."
Peter followed more slowly, glancing toward Adriel as he approached.
"Nothing happened when Artoria came back, right?"
There was genuine concern beneath the casual tone.
Adriel shook his head.
"Nah. We moved on. Nothing happened, I promise."
Peter studied him for a moment.
Adriel held his gaze.
Eventually, Peter shrugged.
"Alright. Let's go, then."
Vi and Peter headed upstairs.
Adriel waited until they disappeared before turning toward the staircase leading to the third floor.
Jinx's room sat near the end of the hallway.
As he approached, the sounds became clearer. Metal scraped against metal. A small motor whined. Screws rattled across a surface, followed by a brief burst of electricity.
Adriel stopped outside her door and sighed.
He knocked three times.
The noise inside stopped.
"Hey, Jinx."
Silence answered him.
"My comrades are here, and I'd like you to meet them." Adriel leaned closer to the door. "I also made food."
Still nothing.
"So, I'm asking nicely. Please come downstairs."
Adriel waited.
"I don't want to drag you out if I don't have to."
His voice softened.
"Can you do this for me, at least?"
Several seconds passed.
Adriel was beginning to consider opening the door himself when the lock clicked.
The door slowly opened.
Jinx stood on the other side.
She looked exhausted.
Dark circles rested beneath her eyes. Her hair was messy, and faint streaks of grease covered her fingers and one cheek. She wasn't as hollow as the version Adriel remembered from canon, the one who had spiraled so deeply into grief that she no longer wanted to live.
But she was still depressed.
Deeply.
Her grief had simply taken a different shape.
Adriel looked her over.
"Alright. Come on."
Jinx did not move.
"You'll like them," he added. "My friends, I mean."
Her pink eyes remained fixed on him.
"Will they help kill that god?"
The question came out flat.
Adriel's expression tightened.
"Yes."
Jinx watched him carefully.
"But I already told you that I'll deal with him." Adriel glanced toward the machinery inside her room. "Whatever you're building isn't going to affect Anansi."
Her jaw clenched.
"Not because you're bad at this," Adriel continued, "but because he's operating on a level that makes normal weapons useless."
"Then I'll make something abnormal."
"Jinx."
She looked away.
Adriel exhaled and stepped closer.
"Rely on me, alright?"
Her eyes returned to him.
"I won't be alone next time," he said. "I won't be stupid about it. I'll prepare properly, and I'll have the others with me."
He lifted one hand and placed it gently against her cheek.
Jinx did not pull away.
"I'll get revenge for you."
The promise weighed heavily in his mouth.
He did not know how he was going to fulfill it.
He only knew he had to try.
"But right now, I need you to come spend time with us."
Jinx remained silent.
"It's not good for you to stay locked in here by yourself." His thumb moved lightly against her cheek. "You might not see it now, but you will eventually. I've been where you are."
Her expression shifted faintly.
"And the worst thing you can do is isolate yourself."
Adriel lowered his voice.
"So please."
Jinx sighed.
"Alright, alright. I'll come."
Adriel lowered his hand.
"Good. Let's go."
He turned and began walking toward the stairs.
"You're gonna love what I made."
Jinx followed him out, closing the door behind her.
"Everything you make is already good," she muttered. "So I'm kind of expecting it to be good anyway."
Adriel chuckled.
"Yeah, you're right."
He paused for a moment.
"Also, wash your hands."
"Tch..."
She clicked her tongue.
Then they headed downstairs together.
By the time they reached the dining room, everyone else had already gathered around the table.
Vi looked prepared to tear into the nearest pizza like a starving animal, but Peter had one hand planted against her shoulder, physically preventing her from reaching forward.
"Wait for everybody."
"They're here now!"
"They weren't when you tried the first three times."
Ace and Artoria sat across from them, talking while watching the struggle with visible amusement.
The conversation quieted when Jinx entered.
She stopped beside Adriel and stared at the newcomers.
Ace, Artoria, and Peter looked back at her.
Peter had technically seen her before, but this was the first time they were being properly introduced as a group.
Jinx lifted one hand in an awkward little wave.
"Um... hi."
She hesitated.
"I'm assuming you already know who I am."
Ace smiled.
"We do."
Artoria nodded politely.
"Do not worry. Come sit with us."
Jinx appeared surprised by how easily they welcomed her.
They met her without suspicion, fear, or accusations—only an open seat at the table.
Her eyes drifted toward the food and drinks spread across it.
For half a second, one corner of her mouth lifted.
The expression disappeared almost immediately, but Adriel caught it.
Jinx moved around the table and sat beside Vi.
Vi stopped fighting Peter long enough to shift her chair closer to her.
Adriel took the final available seat.
His gaze passed over Peter, Ace, Artoria, Vi, and Jinx.
The smell of warm pizza filled the room while glasses were passed around and hands began reaching toward the food.
For the first time in nearly a month, Adriel felt like he was sitting at his family's table again.
His mother, father, sister, and grandmother.
The memory came with a sharp ache.
But as Adriel looked at the people surrounding him, another thought followed.
No. This was his family now—not a replacement or imitation of what he had lost, but something new. Something he still had the chance to appreciate before the universe tried to take it away.
Adriel smiled, a real one this time.
"Alright, guys."
Everyone looked toward him.
"Let's eat."
To Be Continued...