(Hey everyone, sorry it took so long for this chapter to be out, but it was finals week at my college and I forgot to tell you the next chapter would be delayed. Anyway on with the show)
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The great iron doors of Castle Doom hissed open, ancient enchantments parting with a deep mechanical groan. Peter stepped through, shoulders aching, fingertips still crackling faintly with residual magic. His chest rose and fell slowly, his breathing finally even after hours of combat. Months of relentless study, endless spellcasting, and maddening philosophical rants from Doom himself... and it was finally over.
The halls were quieter now, less foreboding, more familiar. He walked them like someone who belonged. Not a guest. Not a prisoner.
A student no longer.
As Peter made his way toward the private wing Doom had granted him, the soft Latverian sunset filtered through stained glass windows. Golden light bathed the castle's dark stone in hues of red and amber, signaling the closing of another day... and another chapter.
When he pushed open the heavy oak doors to his private chambers, he was greeted by the warmth he hadn't realized he'd missed so much.
"Dad!" Franklin cried out, barreling toward him with all the force and joy a young powerhouse could muster. Peter barely had time to brace before the boy hugged him tight.
Valeria followed more calmly, but her smile said everything. "Welcome back, Dad. Doom didn't blow you up after all."
Peter laughed, wrapping an arm around each of them before giving Susan and Sable a look that spoke volumes. They approached, Susan with her soft, maternal calm and bright eyes, and Sable with that confident smirk that had grown gentler over time. Both women looked slightly different: Susan's outfit was more Latverian chic than Fantastic Four standard, and Sable's armor had taken on a more ceremonial flair, blending elegance with strength.
They'd all changed, just a little. The kids were taller, Franklin's hair had grown messier, and Valeria had started wearing some enchanted jewelry Doom had gifted her. Time in Latveria had left its mark, but not in a bad way. There was a new rhythm to their lives. One slower, more grounded, but no less intense.
"We're not going back to New York," Susan said, stepping close and placing a gentle hand on Peter's chest. "Tonight, we celebrate. You passed, Peter. You did it."
Sable raised a glass of Latverian spiced wine she had already prepared. "To the man who made Doom blink."
Peter looked at all of them, his children, his lovers, his family. And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to exhale.
"Then let's celebrate," he said, voice rich with pride. "Right here, where it all changed."
---
The castle was buzzing.
Not with tension. Not with alarms or spells or incoming threats. But with celebration. Real, honest celebration. The kind of joy that fills a space and lingers in the walls.
Peter leaned back in his chair at the long, candlelit table. He let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding for the past... well, months. Maybe years.
The food was great, some weird Latverian stew that somehow reminded him of his mother's cooking, which was both comforting and mildly terrifying. The music was lively, bouncing off the vaulted ceiling, and the people, soldiers, mages, locals, even Doom's servants, were drinking, dancing, and smiling like they'd all forgotten they lived in the castle of one of the scariest men alive.
Sable was seated beside him, silver dress shimmering like liquid steel in the firelight. Her legs were crossed, one arm lazily resting over the back of Peter's chair. She nudged him with her knee and smirked.
"Still thinking like a student?" she asked.
Peter raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She gave him a knowing look. "You passed, Peter. You're not here to survive anymore. You're here because you belong."
He snorted. "You almost sounded like Doom just now."
"I'll take that as a compliment," she said, clinking her wine glass against his.
A second later, he felt someone slide into the other side of him. Susan. Her arm looped through his like it belonged there. She leaned her head briefly on his shoulder before sitting up to look at the hall.
"I think Valeria just taught one of Doom's guards how to make a floating cheese platter," she said, grinning.
Peter followed her gaze. Sure enough, Valeria had her hands raised in front of a confused but impressed guard, a plate of hors d'oeuvres spinning gently in the air between them.
Meanwhile, Franklin was fake sword-fighting another guard with two breadsticks, shouting "For Latveria!" while everyone cheered him on.
Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "My kids are terrorizing international diplomats with floating snacks and stale carbs."
"Our kids," Susan corrected, giving him a playful jab.
Sable raised her glass again. "To chaos."
Peter groaned, but couldn't stop smiling.
They ended up pulled into a dance not long after, Sable, graceful as ever, took the lead and twirled Peter into Susan, who giggled and nearly spilled her drink. It was messy. It was loud. And it was perfect.
By the time the night wound down, the five of them sat out on the balcony, the sky above them in full starlight. The city below shimmered with torches and lanterns. The cold breeze rolled through gently, carrying the scent of distant pines.
Valeria was curled up beside Peter, her head resting on his arm. Franklin sat cross-legged, still animatedly describing how he "totally beat that guard in single combat."
Susan leaned her head against Peter's shoulder again. Sable was on his other side, arms crossed, just watching the stars.
"This is nice," Peter murmured, voice low. "I didn't think I'd ever have something like this again."
Valeria yawned. "You earned it, Dad."
Franklin nodded. "Big time. You beat Doom."
"I passed Doom's test," Peter corrected.
"Same thing," Susan said quietly.
There was a beat of silence. The good kind.
Peter closed his eyes for a second. Letting it all sink in.
For the first time in a long, long while... he felt at peace.
Peter sat there, surrounded by the people he loved most in the world. Franklin was dozing off mid-sentence. Valeria had slid down into his lap, snoring softly. Susan and Sable were quietly talking to each other, their voices low and affectionate.
It was perfect.
Which meant, of course...
It couldn't last.
Peter's eyes narrowed. He straightened up slowly, like he could feel something tightening in the air, something shifting in the script.
Then he looked up. Not at the stars. Not at the skyline. Not even at Doom's ominous spire in the distance.
No.
He looked up.
As if right through the sky, past the atmosphere, and straight at you, the reader.
Straight at the writer.
His eye twitched. His jaw clenched.
"...fuck you, KC," he said flatly, with the deadpan intensity of a man who'd just been told his vacation was being cut short by a demonic invasion or some equally messed up plot twist.
Susan blinked. "Peter? You okay?"
He exhaled slowly through his nose. "I was. For like ten minutes."
Sable leaned forward, suddenly alert. "You sense something?"
Peter stood up, gently setting Valeria aside. "Yeah. The universe just coughed ominously."
He walked over to the edge of the balcony, and as the wind swept past him, the symbiote stirred, rippling across his back before unfurling into a long, flowing crimson cloak. It shimmered with arcane runes woven subtly into the fabric, a quiet, mocking homage to a certain Sorcerer Supreme. The once-familiar spider emblem on his chest had changed too, its legs now extended into sigil-like patterns, glowing softly with magical energy, pulsing in rhythm with the latent power coursing through him.
(Look up death of dr strange, venom cover)
Behind him, the family slowly rose. Susan's force field shimmered faintly around the children. Sable already had a sidearm unholstered, her eyes scanning the horizon.
Peter didn't smile this time.
"Let's get ready," he muttered.
Because peace... in his life?
Ha, funny, not happening.
Peter turned, crimson cloak billowing behind him like a living shadow, the glowing spider-emblem on his chest pulsing gently with restrained energy. Sable and Susan followed without needing to ask, just a glance passed between the three of them, all understanding the same unspoken truth: whatever was coming, it was big.
Outside, the air was thick with static. Thunder rolled again, louder now. The castle walls trembled slightly with each distant rumble. From the balcony, the flash of lightning revealed the silhouette of something descending through the sky, powerful, controlled, unmistakably divine.
"Is that...?" Sable asked, eyes narrowing.
"Thor," Peter said simply.
Another bolt split the heavens, casting long shadows across the mountainside. By the time the light faded, Peter was already weaving the spell, a surge of glowing crimson runes forming beneath his boots. "I'm not walking all the way down there."
Susan gave him a quick smirk. "Try not to impress us too much."
"No promises."
The three of them rose off the balcony, wind tugging at their hair and cloaks as they soared down the mountainside. Lightning illuminated the castle behind them, an eerie silhouette carved against a stormy sky. As they neared the base of the mountain, the figure waiting for them became clearer.
Thor stood there, Mjolnir crackling in his grasp, rain streaking down his armor but doing nothing to diminish his regal presence. He looked up as Peter touched down, Susan and Sable flanking him.
"Thor," Peter greeted, voice firm but cautious. "To what do I owe the thunderstorm?"
The God of Thunder didn't smile. Instead, he stepped forward, grave and urgent.
"We have a problem," Thor said. "A very big one. And I need your help, my friend."
Peter didn't respond right away. Just exhaled softly... and looked up toward the heavens that rumbled again, as if in warning.
Of course. Of course it couldn't last.
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