In another part of the monastery, Spider-Man continued his search and finally emerged into an open courtyard.
"At least I'm out of that creepy hallway," he muttered to himself, relief evident in his voice.
As he ventured deeper, a familiar silhouette emerged from the shadows. Using the ambient light from the architecture, Spider-Man recognized her immediately.
Ahsoka.
As he approached, his spider-sense tingled—not screaming danger, but definitely warning him something was off. But what could be wrong with Ahsoka? The question didn't matter. He'd found his friend.
"Ahsoka!" he called out, drawing her attention. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere—"
The Padawan didn't respond right away. After a brief silence, she spoke, and her words immediately confused him.
"Peter, do you... care about me?"
Beneath his mask, Spider-Man's eyebrows rose in confusion.
"Uh... of course, Ahsoka," he answered, as if it were obvious. "You're my friend. Why would you even ask that?"
He watched as she slowly turned to face him fully, and his heart stuttered. Her eyes—they'd been blue before. Now they glowed a sickly yellow.
"Peter, I'm sorry," she said in a tone he couldn't quite place, each word making Spider-Man's nerves tighten. "I mean, do you think of me only as a friend?"
Spider-Man opened his mouth but couldn't find words to express his sudden confusion and growing unease.
"...What?" he managed.
The question seemed to amuse and embolden her.
Spider-Man noticed how Ahsoka was looking at him now—not the friendly, competitive gaze he was used to, but something more intense. More predatory. Her smile widened as her eyes traced over him, analyzing every detail in a way that made him deeply uncomfortable.
"Mmm," Ahsoka murmured, and the sound made the hair on the back of Spider-Man's neck stand up. "I like this new look on you. The black suit. It's... very appealing."
Warning bells rang in his mind—and for once, it wasn't his spider-sense.
"Ahsoka..." he said carefully, backing up a step. His voice wavered slightly. She was walking toward him with deliberate, measured steps.
"Yes?" she responded, her tone carrying something complex and unfamiliar beneath it.
"You, uh—you okay?" His voice came out higher than intended. "Because you're acting really weird right now, and those eyes—"
"Do you know what I've always admired about you, Peter?" She moved closer, her hips swaying in a way that was entirely unlike her usual confident stride. "Your suits. They always fit you so well. But this one?" Her yellow eyes gleamed. "This one is perfect."
Oh god, she's using a nickname, Spider-Man thought, panic rising as he continued backing away. But Ahsoka kept advancing.
"It shows off your physique much better than the red and blue one," she continued, something hungry flickering in her expression. "All those hours of training, all that acrobatic work—it shows."
He backed up until his shoulders hit a wall. Spider-Man's heart hammered against his ribs as she closed the remaining distance, those unnatural yellow eyes boring into him with an intensity that was equal parts fascinating and terrifying.
"Ahsoka," Spider-Man stammered, "t-this isn't you. You're not thinking clearly—"
She tilted her head, studying him with those corrupted eyes, and bit her lower lip. "I've been thinking more clearly than I have in months. Do you know how confusing it's been? These feelings don't fit with the Jedi way. They're not supposed to exist."
"What feelings?" Spider-Man asked, though part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"The way I feel about you... and about Barriss," she said, her voice dropping lower. The sound sent an involuntary shiver down Spider-Man's spine. "Neither of you has any idea how much you both affect me. Your kindness, your humor, your compassion. And Barriss with her intelligence and her voice and the way she looks at me sometimes. Every aspect of both of you drives me to distraction, and I hate that I can't just—"
She stopped herself, and Spider-Man felt genuine fear creeping through his confusion.
"But now," Ahsoka continued, something almost manic flickering across her features, "I don't have to restrain myself anymore. I can just take what I want. Starting with a taste..."
"Okay, no!" Spider-Man yelped, his voice cracking. "I need an adult! Like, a responsible Jedi Master adult! Obi-Wan! Anakin! Anybody!"
"Adults just complicate things," she whispered, close enough now that he could feel her breath against the bottom edge of his mask.
Spider-Man felt his entire body tense as Ahsoka reached up and grasped the organic portion of his mask. With one smooth motion, she pulled it down, and before he could react, her lips pressed against his.
Spider-Man's eyes went wide with shock. His mind went blank for a moment—then erupted into chaos. This was Ahsoka. His friend, his teammate, someone he trusted and cared about. And yes, if he was being honest with himself, someone he'd developed feelings for over their time together.
He'd thought about this—thought about both Ahsoka and Barriss, if he was being completely honest. But not like this. Never like this. Because they were Jedi, and there were rules, boundaries that couldn't be crossed, and he couldn't—
When Ahsoka deepened the kiss, his thoughts scattered completely. For a moment—just a moment—he let himself respond, caught between desire and dawning horror at what was happening.
She pulled back slightly, breathing hard, her eyes wild with something that wasn't quite sane.
"Peter," she breathed against his lips.
Before he could form a coherent response, she kissed him again, more aggressively this time. Her body pressed against his, one of her legs sliding between his.
Spider-Man's hands came up automatically—whether to push her away or pull her closer, he genuinely didn't know. His heart hammered so hard he thought it might burst from his chest.
When she pulled back again, her hands moved to fully remove his mask, tossing it aside carelessly. She stared into his eyes with unsettling intensity.
"Love me, Peter," she said, her voice rough with emotion. "Only me—no, wait. I shouldn't be selfish. Barriss wants you too. I can sense it. We could both have you. You could have both of us."
Spider-Man's mind was screaming at him that something was very, very wrong. This wasn't how feelings were supposed to work. This wasn't—
"We can have everything we want," she whispered in his ear.
If his spider-sense hadn't suddenly spiked—a sharp, burning sensation behind his eyes—things might have continued. But that familiar warning brought clarity crashing back.
When she leaned in for another kiss, he turned his head away.
"No. No, this isn't—this isn't right," Spider-Man pleaded, his voice strained. "Ahsoka, please. Something's wrong. This isn't you."
Ahsoka pulled back, confusion and hurt flickering across her face. "What? Peter, this is exactly what I want. What I've wanted for a while now. And I know Barriss feels the same way—I've sensed it in her. I don't mind sharing, and I don't think she would either."
Oh god, is this what people mean by 'be careful what you wish for'? Spider-Man thought desperately. He shook his head, trying to clear it. When he saw the disappointment in Ahsoka's eyes—even with their wrong color—his resolve wavered for a moment.
"Ahsoka..." He took a shaky breath. "Look, I'm not going to lie. I do have feelings for you. And yeah, okay, maybe for Barriss too. When you look at me like that—well, like you were looking at me before—it makes it really hard to think straight."
He saw hope flare in her expression and quickly continued, "But this isn't right! You're not acting like yourself at all. Your eyes are yellow, Ahsoka. Yellow. And I know Barriss would never go along with something like this either. Please, you have to snap out of whatever this is."
Ahsoka went very still. For a moment, the manic energy seemed to drain from her face. "You... don't want me?" she asked softly.
Spider-Man's face flushed red beneath his mask. "That's not—I mean, we barely—" He struggled to find the right words. "It's complicated, okay? We need to talk about this when you're actually you again!"
Silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable.
"Then... what are you saying?" Ahsoka asked, her voice oddly flat.
Spider-Man watched as her expression shifted, her teeth pressing into her lower lip. "You're lying. I can feel it. I can feel the connection between us—between you, me, and Barriss." Her voice rose with almost frantic intensity. "You do love me! You love us both!"
"Not like this," Spider-Man said firmly, even as his heart ached at the pain in her voice—corrupted or not. "Because this isn't the Ahsoka I know. The Ahsoka I know wouldn't force this. She'd respect boundaries. She'd—"
Something snapped behind her eyes.
The love—or whatever twisted version of it the Dark Side had created—transformed instantly into pure hatred.
"If you won't love me," Ahsoka hissed, her voice cold and savage, "then I'll just have to kill you instead."
She yanked both lightsabers from her belt. The blades ignited with a snap-hiss, but the color was wrong—tainted, corrupted. She swung them in a vicious arc aimed directly at Spider-Man's torso.
Spider-Man's reflexes saved him. He ducked and rolled, coming up several feet away. He snatched his discarded mask from the ground and pulled it back on, his mind racing.
"Okay, you're definitely not yourself," he said, trying to keep his voice steady despite his hammering heart. "The Ahsoka I know doesn't try to murder people who care about her."
Ahsoka's only response was a cold smile.
Spider-Man dodged another flurry of attacks, his enhanced agility and spider-sense keeping him just ahead of her blades. His training with Ahsoka and the other Jedi helped—he knew her fighting style, could predict her moves.
But something was different now. She was faster, more aggressive, and there was a recklessness to her attacks that hadn't been there before. The Dark Side was enhancing her abilities even as it corrupted her mind.
He had to be careful. Had to avoid getting hit. Because whatever was wrong with Ahsoka, whatever had turned her eyes that terrible yellow and twisted her feelings into this, he knew one thing with absolute certainty:
She was trying to kill him, and he might actually die if he wasn't very, very careful.