Steve knocked lightly at the door to the room where he had been asked to come as it was urgent, when it opened he found himself face to face with Roswaal Mathers. The Margrave was standing in his night clothes, a silken pajama set that seemed to be made especially for him. Probably all of these clothes were, there was no planet in the universe that Steve believed sold the stuff this man was wearing.

He set his jaw and glared at him as he stepped past, Roswaal smiled at him. A deep closed lipped smile, but said nothing.

Inside of the room, standing around a table were Emilia, Lady Crusch, and Anastasia Hoshin. When he had been summoned here, this wasn't the grouping that he expected to see here.

"Ladies," Steve said with an abrupt wave.

"Captain Rogers," Emilia was the first to speak, her voice more formal than he had heard it when addressing him in a long while. "I apologize for asking you to meet us here on such short notice, but there was a question that directly involved you—and well, it involved Peter too."

Steve stared down at the table that was laid out in front of the three of them, multi-colored push pins jutting up from the the faded and crinkled paper. He nodded to Emilia. "No need to apologize, this is something I recognize—a war room."

"A war…room?" Emilia said as if she were testing out the sound of the combination of the words.

"It's usually a room where battle maps with troop movements and plans are maintained," Steve explained.

"Yes, then." Emilia swept her silver hair away from her face. "Then this is our war room."

"Don't tell me you've forgotten about our first meeting," said Anastasia, her hands were clasped in front of her. He had been sure when he first met her that she was both a teenager and older than he thought, but now he was leaning more toward the latter. She looked small, but there was something about how she spoke that seemed to convey a savvy for what she was doing.

Playing at looking innocent.

"I actually didn't forget, I was kind of shocked to see you at the ceremony earlier."

"You know the girl?" Roswaal asked.

Steve looked to him, but resigned himself to be polite for the time being. "We met the first day I was here in the capital."

Anastasia's smile deepened. "Had you stuck with me you could have been part of a winning team," she said.

Emilia looked like she might burst from embarrassment, but said nothing.

Steve cracked a smile and even let a little chuckle escape. "Maybe if I had gotten to know you better over the course of the last month things would be different, but I'm part of Emilia's team and I believe in her goal."

Emilia stared at Steve, her big purple eyes welling up.

Anastasia leaned back on the table, kicking her legs up. "Well, doesn't mean we can team up just for this little endeavor," she said.

The door opened and everyone turned to look as two figures pooled into the room. "Ah, there they are, my associates that I spoke about before," Anastasia waved her hand toward the door as they stepped in. "Rocket and Miss Kate Bishop."

A dark haired woman stepped into the room next to a—wait, did Steve know that raccoon?

"What the fuck? Steve Rogers, what the Hell are you doing here?" Rocket the Raccoon asked as he strutted through the room nonchalantly tugging at the crotch.

Kate kicked at him. "They'd itch less if you used soap, maybe—oh my God, that is Captain America."

"I—do I know you?" Steve said.

Everyone was looking at them now, Roswaal from his spot at the opposite corner of the room and Crush, Emilia, and Anastasia from where they stood around the table at his sides. He had never seen this girl, but he briefly remembered the raccoon from the battlefields in Wakanda. He had almost forgot about it, but they came out of that rainbow with Thor, a talking tree named Groot and this angry raccoon.

"You all know each other?" Crusch said. "Then they are Earthian too," she put her hand to her chin she thought something over. Her eyes were hidden behind her green hair for a bit. Steve realized suddenly that Kate looked out of place, he had grown used to the green and lavender hair, but it had been some time since he had seen anyone with dark hair.

"Yeah," Rocket said. "But you're supposed to be dead or missing, that's what the boyfriends—the one with the metal arm and the goofy looking wings told everyone."

"Not just dead, you died saving the world—like I saw this musical about your life and they've even been retrofitting the Statue of Liberty in your honor."

"What?" Steve asked. "I vanished from Wakanda when Thanos snapped…"

Anastasia seemed to be considering something that had distracted her greatly, it was Crusch who broke the whole thing up. "While I am sure that this Earth conversation is riveting for people who know what any of these things are, we need to get back to the matter at hand."

"We need to wait for Peter," Emilia said.

Just then something hit the glass of the window, bumping hard against it. Peter was outside, clinging to the side of the building and trying to feel his way to an open window that was further down the side of the building.

"Whoa, my bad. These are all so clean—thought that was the open one," Peter said as he crawled around through the window and flipped down to the floor to land in a perfect crouch.

"Why didn't you use the door?" Crusch and Emilia both asked.

"I thought it might be a trap…and uh, I've got a brand to keep up," Peter joked.

"You're the Spider-Man from TikTok," Kate said. Peter seemed to blush at the mention of his name, it had been a while since he had really run into a fan of what he does since no one in this world knew what Captain America, the Avengers, or Spider-Man was.

"I don't have a TikTok…"

"You totally do, then you got outed by Mysterio in that video that he sent to that clown, Jameson. Just to let you know, I never believed you did those things he said," Kate spat all of this out in a matter of seconds with Peter nodding at her.

"Thanks, but I don't know any of what you're talking about…"

Crusch cleared her throat. "Can we work on any of what we came here to discuss, now that everyone is here?" She asked.

"Kate, Sweetie," Anastasia said. "Let's save our weird questions for late—I know I have some."

Emilia moved over so she was standing between Peter and Steve. She put herself closer to Peter, almost bumping against him. He must have not noticed and if he did, he didn't react. Steve couldn't help that either the kid was clueless or he was so polite he didn't want to accidentally upset the girl.

"This map is obviously of the Kingdom of Lugnica," Crusch said. Rocket jumped up onto the corner of the table crawling across to look where she was pointing. "The yellow pins are the spots where there have been Witch Cultist attacks, red pins are known locations that the White Whale has attacked, orange are places where we think there might have been a Whale attack but it isn't confirmed. The white are places where we found a base of operations for the Witch Cult."

Her explanation seemed rehearsed, it was concise and gave just the information that they needed to get started. Steve scanned the map for a bit taking in the different areas and really seeing for one of the first times the landmass that they were on. Sure he had looked at it, but not on this scale on a map.

The only issue was that they didn't actually go over what the White Whale was. It was Kate that raised her hand. "Maybe I am missing something here, but I've been in this place for a while and I don't really know what this White Whale really is."

"The White Whale is a demon beast that is unique, there is only one of the creatures though there are two other unique demon beasts like it: The Great Rabbit and the Black Serpent," Crusch explained. "Together the three of them have terrorized the continent for the better part of four hundred years."

Kate nodded. "Okay, so somewhere out there in the world is a big scary bunny."

"I see that you have already found the time to recruit more to the cause," Wilhelm, the old man from before strolled through the door with that dignified and distinguished aura that he seemed to have in abundance. He walked over to them at the map. "For nearly the last decade I have helped to gather what I can to make a complete picture of the White Whale and its connection to the Witch Cult."

Rocket crawled over to one of the orange pins and touched it. "You can go ahead and turn that one red," he said.

Everyone stared at him.

"What, you don't see it?" Rocket asked. "Ugh, you gaggle of dummies—look at it!"

Something seemed to click for Peter and he stepped back and jumped up over the table, sticking himself to the ceiling right above it and using one of his webs to lower himself down over it. "Wait, the raccoons right."

"I ain't no raccoon. You take that back!" Rocket jumped for Peter, but before he could make contact Kate scooped him up in her arms and deposited him on the floor.

"How could you be so sure, young man?" Wilhelm asked.

"So it's a pattern, not an obvious one though because it doesn't involve the locations, but the angles from location to location. Up there at the top of the map it appears more—so that must be where it comes from or starts or whatever. Is this thing like a literal whale or is it something else?" Peter asked.

"It's a literal giant whale that flies through the sky. We think when it wants to remain totally hidden it hides in clouds or fog," Crusch said.

"That's weird, but some of these locations seem to point to it not exactly going to the same spots but going to a spot a certain distance and angle away from the last spot so that if you track it by looking for it to hit locations in a pattern it looks random, but if you track the angles it will move in you'll find that it seems to be moving like this." With his finger, Peter drew a line form pin to pin, rotating a half step around the pins to make it to the next area. The angle from one pen to the other was always the same except for in three cases.

"And these?" Asked Steve.

"Those are outliers or there's something special about them," Peter said.

"Surely this stupid thing can move without the pattern or maybe someone can control it when it's off the pattern," Rocket suggested.

Crusch began to look uneasy.

"Is there anything special about any of these three cases?" Peter asked. "Anything at all?"

"This one here is where my wife was taken by the White Whale," Wilhelm said.

Peter looked over at the old man, a deep kind of sorrow taking over his posture. "I'm really sorry, we just didn't consider…"

"It's quite alright, if you have a method to track the beast then we need to know it, because we will make sure that it never takes anyone away every again," Wilhelm said.

Rocket did the angle for the three dots and sure enough they were travel dots to the spot that Wilhelm had indicated his wife had died in. Peter traced the line back with his finger and Steve followed the line he made until they were at the edge of the drawing of the landmass.

"What's over here?" Asked Peter.

Emilia stared at the map quizzically, blinking hard at where Peter was pointing. She lifted her face to look directly into his. "Nothing is there, Peter. You're pointing past the edge of the map."

"So it's like the ocean or something," said Steve.

"What's the ocean—no it's just the edge of the world," Emilia said.

"I got this," Rocket started. "Look, Sweetheart, I know that maybe you think the world is flat because you can't tell from down here and that there's ice walls or whatever goofy shit at the end there—"

"The world is flat," Roswaal said. "There's nothing there but the Great Waterfall, where there is water to fall off into the Abyss or a ledge everywhere else."

"The world is flat?!" Peter shouted.

"I'm confused," Roswaal said. "What else would the world be?"

"Our world, Earth, is round or more correctly an oblate spheroid," said Peter.

Rocket piped up. "I've been to all kinds of worlds and most of them have been round—even if some of them have been inside of the hollowed out head of a dead Celestial. I ain't never seen no flat world. Except that one time I went to Asgard. Maybe this place is really Asgard…"

"What the littler raccoon said," Peter said. "I've been to one other planet. It was round, but if this place is flat that might explain the weird gravity—though it begs about a million other questions."

"Hoshin of the Wilderness claimed to have been from another world too," Anastasia said. "He even brought some of the traditions to Kararagi with him like Christmas."

Steve looked across the table toward where Peter was suspended above it. "They even have Christmas? This is all become way weirder than I would have imagined."

Emilia blinked, clearly confused. "I don't understand why you would ask what was up in that direction of the map though if nothing is there." She was clearly trying to bring things back to the topic at hand.

"Well, judging by the number of patterns originating in that general direction and headed back there it's safe to say that the whale comes from somewhere in this area of the world. It also only seems to be able to travel great distances along these lines and must be deviating from them to do things in other areas," Peter said making a sweeping motion over the map.

"Incredible," said Wilhelm. "The boy was here for only a matter of minutes along with this tiny beastman and already they has a sound theory on how the White Whale operates."

"Thanks, but I don't really have much of anything besides a theory. Is there anything else about how the whale works you can tell us…" Peter said before adding. "Sir."

"The whale's skin is said to be tough, hard to cut through and it seems to be resistant to conventional magic, though not immune. It has a horn like a traditional mabeast. Rough estimates put it at around fifty meters in length. Though that number may be wrong. Most importantly its fog is said to disorient and sometimes even eat the memory of a person."

In Steve's head he thought back to battling the Chitauri Leviathans at the Battle of New York when Thanos first attacked the Earth. It could be possible to bring something down much bigger than them, but back then they had Iron Man to fly around and draw the thing and the Hulk to…well smash. And that didn't even account for if the Whale had ground forces with it.

"Oh, I don't like the sound of that part about it eating my memory," Rocket said. "I'd like my memory to stay very much intact, thank you very much." He jumped back onto the table, strutting out under Peter and in front of Emilia.

"Look, no offense to Galadriel over here or…Disgust from that one 'Inside Out' movie," Rocket continued as he walked between them, pointing to Emilia and Crusch in turn. "But if this thing can just fly around crop duster us with forget-fog while we stand around digging in our asses I don't know what kind of chance we actually have against it. Unless you're going to tell me that the prepubescent spider here can fly or that Captain America has the power to sprout some Vibranium wings…"

The raccoon turned his gaze on Anastasia. "It sounds like you're signing us and your Iron Fang buddies up for a suicide mission and I'm not having it!"

Anastasia ran her fingers over Rocket's head, brushing back the fur. It seemed for a moment like he might do something as he barred his teeth and glared up at her, but after a few strokes his ears drooped back until they were flattened against his head. "It might seem like there isn't anything we can do from the ground, but I assure you that Lady Crusch here has been gathering some of the best in weapons. I supplied them myself."

"Mana canons, a few Night Banishers in case we need the light, and enough explosive stone to sever our border from Vollachia," Crusch explained.

"Did she say explosives?" Rocket glanced around. "Do we get to, uh, see if we can blow this big dumb fish up?"

"Well, like you said Mister Rocket, we're down here and it is up there. It's probably rather thick skinned and most attacks from the ground wouldn't have a good chance of piercing it, but maybe we can force it to lower its altitude." Wilhelm said.

Steve nodded. "We do have a couple of fliers about, Sam might be able to get up near it, for instance. And Miss Emilia has made ramps of ice before."

"Oh, Miss Emilia will be returning to the mansion with me sometime tomorrow," Roswaal said plainly.

When Steve went to look at Emilia, he noticed that she glanced down and away from Peter. She looked ashamed at this coming up, like it was something she wanted to discuss in private later. He could see the reason why it might not be bright for her to go.

"I will be there leading the attack, but at my request Miss Emilia and Miss Anastasia are not to be," Crusch said.

"Why didn't you say sooner?" Asked Peter.

"It only makes logical sense, really," Anastasia said. "I've got no fighting ability what so ever, and that cute little cat thing that Emilia has probably can't come out after nightfall. There's no point in risking three Royal Selection Candidates when two of them will be fighting at a massive disadvantage."

Peter dropped on to the floor behind Steve, he looked up into the older man's eyes and Steve gave him a small nod. He wanted to tell Peter that this made the most sense and he knew that Peter understood that too, there was a real danger out there for Emilia.

"What about our duty to protect Emilia?" Peter asked.

"Weeeeeeeeell, between the most talented mage in the entire Kingdom of Lugniiiiiiiica, the most impressive Fire Spirit, Puck, and the most child prodigy of her clan, Rem, we should have things covered," Roswaal said with a smile.

"I'll hold you to that, Roswaal," Steve said turning to look back at the man.

"Rem will stay in the city with you," Emilia said when she finally spoke. "As a talented water mage she could be instrumental in healing people, at least those people that Ferris isn't able to get to."

Peter touched her arm. "This whole Witch Cult thing seems like it might have to do with what people think about you, it feels like they're planning something. The least that you could do is stay in the city," he said.

Emilia looked into his eyes. "No one is requiring you or Steve to go, but it feels like you could be a huge help to the cause," Emilia said.

Peter lowered his head. "If you've got the ability to do something and you do nothing—it's like you've caused it yourself," Peter said. "I can't just turn away. This thing is killing people. It could come back and hurt one of us someday and it will be because we ignored it."

Kate sighed. "There must be something we we can all do, at least to support in this effort," she said. "I saw what a monster that looked like a whale did to Manhattan when I was little. I don't want to watch anyone else go through that."

"I'm not really here for this lovey-dovey help the people crap, but if you tell me I'm going to get to blow up a big ass whale…well that was all you had to say."

"It won't just be you, Misters James and Sam have been helping Crusch with hunting the Witch Cult," Emilia said.

"I know that this has to be done," Peter said. "It's just—"

"Let's not do this right now," Emilia said, her voice strained. Steve was sure that everyone could hear the desperation in it, but he didn't know exactly what had happened between her and Peter. He thought maybe he should ask, but then he didn't know if that was too far. Besides, what was he going to tell him?

Steve was a man who had basically spent the latter years of his life chasing the memory of a woman that had lived hers fully.

"It would be a great help to the Kingdom if this could be pulled off," Roswaal said. "And more so it would be a boon to any of the candidates who's camp participaaaaaaaaates," Roswaal said.

Peter glanced to Steve and Steve nodded at him. "I think you've got everyone here, we just need to know some of what you have so far," Peter said.

"And I'm going to need to see one them mana canons you were talking about—maybe I could make some modifications," Rocket said.

Rem had resigned herself to cleaning the kitchen since Wilhelm had indicated that he had important business to attend to elsewhere. She wouldn't have minded, but the job was taking a particularly long time since this was not her manor and many of the choices on where the spices and other things were stored had clearly been made by a sort of logic that she didn't quite grasp.

As she hunted for where the other sauce pans were she hummed a little tune to herself. The kitchen at this time night was dark and it would have been hard for a normal human to see in here, but with her alone there was no need to worry about that.

Lately a lot of her thoughts had drifted to her demon heritage, the side of her that she had honestly kept bottled up so long. She thought about this very tune that her mother used to hum and the way that, despite not being sister, she was cared for and loved and encouraged. Back then it hadn't felt like it, but she was beginning to look back at where she came from and the origins of the power inside of her.

With this reflection came worrying about those who had taken everything from her and Rem, the Witch Cult.

"The sauce pans go up top—I know, Wilhelm did it. It probably only makes sense to men." Peter's Aunt, May, strolled into the room wearing a sleek black dress with a white cardigan over it. Rem wondered why she always looked so beautiful, so varied, and different. She was the kind of woman that men of all ages probably found desirable. Thoughts of how no one had ever looked at Rem the way that they had probably looked at May crept into her head.

"Thank you," Rem said.

"Dinner was really good, do you do that all of the time?" May asked.

"Do what, Miss Parker?" Rem asked.

"Cook like that. And please, it's just May or if you have to Miss May," she replied.

Rem climbed up to reach the place where the pans went and put the sauce pan away. "As head maid at the Roswaal manor it is my job to have a menu prepared, but I am ready to make a few dishes if the need arises," Rem said.

"Well, you're incredible. You'll have to show me some of those recipes," May said.

"Oh, I can probably do that," Rem said.

"Does it seem like most of the rest of the house vanished?" Asked May.

"There was an important meeting that Miss Emilia needed Captain Rogers and Peter for. I think that others might have gone too," said Rem.

"Huh," May said. "Important meetings that everyone else are at might be the kind of thing that we should eavesdrop on." May's dark hair caught the light, it was enough that it could cascade of her shoulders and down her back a bit. There was something so gorgeous about dark hair like that. It was rare enough that people might even turn their heads to look at someone who had it on the street. Peter and Steve had darker than normal hair, but it wasn't in dark in the same way as May's.

It was honestly impressive.

"I would advise against that," Rem said. "Miss Emilia can hear very well," Rem said pointing to her ear before she climbed back down from putting the sauce pan away.

May nodded. "I am sure we will get wind of it anyway," May said.

Rem smiled and nodded. "So, what is it you do with Miss Crusch?" Rem asked.

"I used to help with fundraising and donations, did a lot of outreach. So I have been doing mostly that in a different kind of way. I look for ways to borrow and acquire resources that we need," May explained.

Rem made a small noise to indicate that she was satisfied with the answer given. "It's neat to see how different houses function and who does what within them," Rem said. "It's like looking into another world."

"Having come here from another world, I can tell you that this is all very strange," May said as she leaned back against the counter. She swept the dark hair away from one shoulder.

"How so?" Rem asked.

"There's almost zero magic—I mean I guess there is some magic, but it's not the kind of magic that you see here. It's like a buff blonde man making a hammer fly and an Eastern European lady with glow-y hands," May made a motion in the air with her hands to imitate something, but Rem didn't know what it meant.

"It's like, I remember life before here, I spent so many years there. Hell, I remember life before I knew a single thing about flying men in metal suits or aliens—but once you're in the middle of all that it feels so natural, you know? Now it is starting to feel like that here. Sometimes, before I found out Peter was here, it felt like the life I used to know was just some strange dream that I woke up from and this had always been where I was."

"Oh," Rem said.

"Sorry, this is a lot to dump on you," May said as she walked over and took some of the spices so that she could put them away in a small cabinet that was off to the side of the larger one. "Large scale life changes are—life changing isn't really a hot take, I guess. Huh?"

"When I was young my village, my entire tribe was murdered," Rem said absently.

"You poor girl—"

Rem shook her head. "My life back then was peaceful and quaint, but I remember being so scared of rejection and not living up to what people expected—now I feel like that was a different person, even if I have that same fear sometimes." Rem had begun to gaze down at her hands as she spoke, flexing her fingers back and forth.

"I really think that everyone feels like that some of the time," said May. "Rejection is one of those things that we all seem to fear or experience at one time or another."

There was a long moment of silence between them as they continue to put the dishes and cooking implements away. Rem could sense that there was a level of discomfort around the subject matter, like part of May had more questions. She wanted to say something but just couldn't bring herself to.

"Me-oh, there you two are." Ferris was at the door of the kitchen with his hands pulled up by his chest, fingers hanging down like a dangling cat's paws.

"Ferris," May said looking up, the sound of him coming into the room must have startled her just a bit as she jumped. She pressed her palm to her chest. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Would you say I was as quiet as a kitten?" Ferris said as he did a little lunge forward with his hands up in a mock attack position.

May shook her head. "What did I tell you about the cat puns?"

"Rawwww, it is pretty hard for me to stop," Ferris said.

"I thought you would be in the meeting with the others," Rem said.

"Nope, the planning is really for convincing people to help Miss Crusch. I was going to go along with this whole thing from the start—same with Old Man Will too."

"Do you have any idea what they're discussing," Rem asked.

"Might as well let you know, since you're probably going to hear it from Lord Roswaal or Miss Emilia, but they're planning to attack the White Whale."

"The thing that killed Wilhelm's wife?" May asked.

"The very same."

May stopped what she was doing, her eyes focused very hard on the counter's surface. "And they want Peter to go do this? He's not invulnerable. How do they think they can do this if Wilhelm's wife was this magical Sword Saint thing and she couldn't do it." It was clear that May was becoming visibly angry.

"Miss May," Rem said. "If I can, I would like to say that it might sound odd, but Peter is more capable than some of the magic users of this world. For one his stamina is pretty much unparalleled. Plus, Captain Rogers will be there to help him," she couldn't help her voice going higher pitched at the mention of his name.

May shook her head. "He is just a boy still, there has to be limits to what he can do."

"Tamtrums aren't really a good look on you May," Ferris said in a biting manner. "You know if you tell that him not to do this he's going to do it anyway. You think he would let people risk their lives without him?" Ferris said.

The glare that May stared at Ferris with could have cut through any magic protection known to man.

"Besides, if anything happens to him I'll be there to patch him up," Ferris said.

Rem dried her hands on her apron. "And I will stay with him and Captain Rogers. I am no prodigy like my sister, but I am adept in water magic and therefore can provide dependable healing," Rem said.

"And have you seen how strong your nephew is?" Asked Ferris. "Reinhard mentioned him catching a tower, I went and took a look. He held a small building up without getting a bruise!"

A small smile slipped over May's face. "I don't know how you manage to do that, Ferris."

Ferris purred, licking the back of his hand. "I don't know what you're talking about, May." Her walked to the side of the room, headed for the door. "Well, there's work being done here and I don't want to get wrapped up in all that. I better go check on Wade and make sure he's not getting into any trouble."

When the meeting had finished Emilia found Peter in a hallway talking to the raccoon man and the dark haired woman, Kate Bishop. As she edged nearer, she could hear some of the stuff that the three of them were saying.

"…we're trying to tell you, you were there when we left, but it doesn't seem to be the same you," the raccoon explained, with his little paws outstretched at his sides as if to illustrate the depth of the point.

"How could it be me, but not me?" Asked Peter.

Miss Kate pushed Peter in the chest. "Rocket's not explaining it right, look it's not 2018 like you claimed it was. It's 2025, you're describing being vanished in the snap, but you and the Avengers fought this huge battle in Upstate New York and undid it. You killed Thanos and his army, Iron Man died, Captain America vanished, and you went on to murder this Mysterio guy…"

"Mister Stark…what?" Peter said, seemingly in shock.

"Guy saved the whole universe, but the human body…look kid, it wasn't designed to channel that kind of cosmic power through it. He couldn't take it, Hell when the Hulk brought everyone back it ruined his arm for a while."

"You're telling me that I've been here five years already?" Peter said. "And Tony Stark is…"

"No, think about it. I've been here for a year and so has Rocket, which means that we were here from seven years in the future before you ever got here!"

Emilia had edged toward them, but seeing Peter's devastation made her want to pull back some. Maybe now wasn't a good time?

"Eh, your lady friend is here to see you," Rocket said.

Peter glanced back to see Emilia, seeing the look in his eyes she stepped in to hug him tight.

"This is a lot for someone to take in, that they're meeting future people and then there's this other version of them that's already in the future that they came from. I have to admit this is all super confusing," said Kate.

"Let's give em a little space," Rocket said.

The pair of them walked off down the hallway leaving Peter standing in Emilia's arms with her head resting on his chest. She could hear the subtle thump of his heart and smell the soapy smell on his skin from the bath he had taken after the fights earlier.

"He meant a lot to you," Emilia said finally. "I can tell by how you talked about him."

"It just doesn't make sense," said Peter. "How can we be coming from the same time to years apart and then also coming from the future back to this point in time," he said. "How can Mister Stark be dead and at the same time on Titan stuck?" Peter asked.

Emilia broke away from him, pulling him by the arm. "We need to get you out of the doldrums—come with me."

"Where are we going?" Peter asked.

"You mentioned one time that your Metia could make songs, well show me," Emilia said.

"Huh?" Peter asked.

"Dance with me," Emilia said. "I can't really dance, not properly, but we can go to my room where no one will see."

"D-dancing in your room seems like a dangerous thing," Peter said.

Emilia giggled. "I'm not that clumsy, now come on." She led him back to her room and opened the door. "Let me ask you this, would Mister Stark want you to mope like this about having saved everyone or would he want you to dance? Celebrate victory?"

"Tony Stark was a big fan of spending time with pretty girls," Peter muttered.

Emilia smiled. "I don't see any of those around here," she said with a snark that surprised even her. "Just old, silver haired witches."

It must have shocked Peter too as he stared at her with his mouth wide open.

"Now, take out that Metia and make music with it," Emilia said.

"That kind of sounds like an order," Peter said.

"Right, from Mistress Emilia!" She tried to say in her most assertive voice, but it only caused Peter to laugh.

"Alright, then," Peter took his Metia out and laid it on the bed with the glass facing up. He knelt over it and touched it in a complex pattern. The words on the screen, the ones from his home world, were still incomprehensible gibberish to her. She had been taught some simple ones like 'yes' and 'no' and she had seen Peter write his name and then hers.

After a few moments pushing and sliding his fingers over the screen there was a burst of noise from the phone that at first frightened Emilia, she almost covered her ears. Then there was a count off of a beat and she could kind of hear it. Not any instruments that she recognized, but it was surely music.

"This is a huge oldie, from my Aunt's time. It's more of a meme now than anything," Peter said.

Emilia closed the door to the room as the words to the song started up, Peter paused behind her waiting for her. In this instance, she took the lead in taking his hands. It was like he was scared of touching her, though she didn't understand why. She knew that she liked that he asked permission. He was polite, but he also seemed frightened of her in a way she wasn't used to.

"Words like violence
"Break the silence
"Come crashing in
"Into my little world"

The music was quiet enough that they could still talk near each other, his lips were close to her ear now and she could feel a flutter in her chest as his breath brushed through her silver hair and past her pointed ear.

"Do you mind if I put my hand on your waist?" He asked.

Emilia shook her head and grabbed his hand placing it on her hip.

Peter licked his lips, staring down at his feet like he needed to concentrate on every moment very hard. She had seen him effortlessly run on the tops of a row of flag poles before and use his reflexes to correct himself from plummeting to the water below a bridge that wasn't that high. All of a sudden he was unable to tell where his feet were in relation to hers.

"Peter," Emilia said.

"Hm?"

"Peter, look at me," Emilia said.

He glanced up at her. His eyes were red and it looked like he might be holding back tears. She didn't know what else to say, maybe the only reason he was able to keep it together like this was because of her. But at the same time everyone needed to cry sometimes. Finding out that someone you cared about died is a really good reason to let it all out.

"Can I make a confession," he said looking into her eyes.

"Always."

"I was trying to play this kind of funny song that's like fifty years old that gets used in a lot of videos and in the rush I hit this one," he forced a laugh and then sucked in to clear his nose.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, this is way more romantic than I meant for it to be. Except that I'm about to cry, obviously," Peter said.

Emilia reached up with the hand that was at his shoulder and brushed his hair back. "If you need to cry, you can," Emilia said.

"All I ever wanted
"All I ever needed
"Is here in my arms
"Words are very unnecessary
"They can only do harm"

A tear ran down one of Peter's cheeks and she moved her hand to brush it away. Then he reached for her face, his thumb brushing over her lower lip in a way that she could feel was loaded with meaning. Was he about to kiss her, she would accept it. In the moment right now, she would just have to risk it.

She didn't care.

"Emilia."

Her eyes were closed now, waiting for whatever was to come. "Oh, yes, Peter."

"No matter what happens, I'm really glad that I got to meet you."

There was no kiss, nothing else really happened except that he held her close and danced with her until the crying stopped and the song ended and then another song came out of the Metia, and then another. They danced until they collapsed on the bed side by side just listening to the songs and holding each other.

She couldn't help but think that this could be the last night that she saw him, she should do something. What if he went out there and fought that monster and she couldn't remember him, she never knew that he existed, that he had cared about her or been her friend.

It would break her. But she was too cowardly to say that. She was too scared of the implications of it or that putting it out into the world would cause it to come true. So they talked until they were whispering and fell asleep in each others arms.

Demons didn't need as much sleep as humans, it was one of the reasons that Roswaal's manor was so spotless and the reason that Rem was able to embark on this little nighttime foray into the heart of the capital. At the market earlier that day she had sensed something. It wasn't the kind of thing that she picked up right away or was sure about from the distance, but as she followed it the smell became more distinct and pronounced.

The scent of the Witch.

Miasma, they called it. Rem wasn't even all that sure what it really was. She could sense it and other people seemed completely oblivious to it, even sister.

She had followed the scent to a storehouse near the market with bolted doors that lead down to a cellar. Part of her wanted to burst through them right then, but she was doing the shopping for Peter and for dinner and the whole town was alive and awake. People would have a lot of questions about her kicking her way into someone's home or business.

Rem was able to suppress the urge. She might have even let it go, that is until Wade mentioned to her that there was another Cult of the Witch hideout that. The city was crawling with the bastards, the same ones that had killed her parents and taken sister's horn.

The monsters who had left her alone to care for everyone and carry their memories.

Rem stalked through the city, bundled in her riding cloak with her hair covered. She wouldn't use her horn unless she needed to. She couldn't just reveal that hand. She moved to a row of buildings that were lower, only one story, and she made the jump up to the roof and landed with a hard thud.

She glanced back at the street where she had just jumped from, there were mana lanterns here and there to provide light, but it was dark by now.

It was a good thing that a demon didn't need much light to see.

At the corner where she had just crossed out of the alleyway she thought that she saw a shape meld back into the shadows. Rem sniffed the air, faint miasma, but it wasn't coming from behind her.

She pressed on, doubling up on her speed and leaping across the streets to the buildings on the other side. There was people in the streets below, but they were stumbling drunk or standing near the brothels trying to proposition some of the young women. They weren't moving deliberately behind her or tracking the motion this way. Rem could hear the footfalls in the alley as she passed them, she tried to take a different route and lead the person off.

When there was a street with no pedestrians and very little light, she jumped down to the cobblestones landing at the mouth of the alley. Her tail would be right behind her, probably still looking to the sky for where she was. Rem summoned the ball and chain into her hands, feeling its weight as they appeared. With a small wind up, she flung it back toward the mouth of the other alley so that it buried itself in the cobblestone right before the shadows began.

"Whoever you are, whatever you think that you're doing by following me—"

Rem was cut off by a familiar silhouette stepping into the dull light of the mana lanterns. Steve Rogers's face: the piercing blue eyes and his thick, yet close trimmed beard were the first things that came into view. He stopped just short of the divot where her weapon had landed.

His hands were raised, but the gesture seemed more playful than anything else. And he was dressed in his battle uniform, with the shield affixed to his back.

"Captain Rogers, oh dear, my apologies!" Rem said rushing back to meet him.

"You're fine, I should have just asked you where you were headed when I saw you go out instead of trying to follow you," Steve said.

"It's really alright," Rem said as she retracted the ball and chain to catch it with ease. She held the ball under one arm as she brushed her bangs away from her eye. "Maybe we should return to the manor—it looks like this whole thing won't be necessary."

"Why did you leave though?" Asked Steve. "It seemed important enough to you that you came out here all by yourself."

"When I was a little girl the Witch's Cult killed my entire village and my family, everyone I knew except for sister," she said. "I have this…ability where I can smell when a Witch Cultist is nearby and earlier when I was in the market I—wait."

Before she could even fully voice her concern, before she could say that she felt the smell of the Witch's miasma growing closer, Steve whirled around, pushing her to the side and raising the shield to let the Witch Cult athamé clatter uselessly off of the shield.

In return, Steve flung the shield at the figure on the rooftop where the attack had come from. The metal of the shield rung out as it struck its target.

"You okay?" Steve asked. "Rem?"

The guy on the rooftop had tumbled down and landed in the street face first, but there were more of them. Maybe a dozen. Rem could nod that she was fine, but she couldn't hold back. Everything became a blur and she could feel the mana pushing through her forehead, feel her horn pulsing with energy.

She could still see Steve, even feel the thud of his heart in the air. All around her she could sense movement, air displacemnt, footsteps. The cultists.

Everything became a fever dream of movement and sound. Daggers managed to knick her, but she didn't care. Steve defended her from the sides as she lashed out. At one point she remembered retrieving his shield and burying it in a cultist's head. Rem howled, arms down at her sides. She twirled the chain above her head letting it whistle until she spotted the cloaked figures moving and then let it tear into them.

Rem jumped, landing and ducking at one point just in time to avoid an attack that passed so closely that it ripped through her cloak and pegged it to a crate behind her. She jumped, rolling horizontally through the air and using the ball and chain to deflect another oncoming attack. Her movement was fluid, dodging and dancing in time with Steve so that he was there to block her and counter when she was exposed. She attacked for him when he was busy being her shield.

They were in sync.

Soon the night air was still, they were in the space between buildings and she could see Steve's back in front of her as he surveyed the last of the cultists that had been felled. When he glanced over at her she didn't really get his expression, it wasn't fear. Not that she was in a good position to judge with her brain in a fog of mana confusion. Rem dropped the ball and chain as she approached him.

"Hey, Rem?" Steve's voice sounded distant though he was right in front of her. "Rem, you okay?"

When he stepped closer to her, she could smell him now. The soft smell of his sweat, a light musk mixed with soap and oil from the Karsten household. Maybe it was the horn or the adrenaline, but she couldn't help herself. Rem leaped onto Steve and wrapped her legs about his torso.

He caught her, on instinct probably, holding her weight under her butt. She couldn't even be bothered by where his hands were cupping.

"Rem," he said her name this time softer. It felt like an invitation, it had to be right? She giggled to herself as he spoke again. "You've got that mad look in your ey—"

He was cut off by her lips against his and her hands locked holding the sides of his face. They whirled around until his back crashed against the alley wall. He readjusted until his hand was caressing her back through the opening in the dress, his fingers moving reassuringly over the bare skin.

The surprise of the moment ebbs away bit by bit until his lips are parted into hers, his tongue was both rough and gentle and tasted of the mint tea she had brewed for everyone after dinner. There was a small growl that turned into a kind sound that seemed closest to a purr; were these sounds coming from her?

Their faces parted; Rem couldn't believe how soon she missed the incredible scratch of his beard against her skin. This warmth had pooled inside of her chest, leaking down to her stomach, and, finally, spreading through her limbs. She shivered, her legs quaked the most which caused her to tighten her hold around Steve's waist.

Sure, she had been cold before or shook when scared, but this was a different kind of shiver. A kind that she wasn't sure she felt comfortable thinking about the implications of, even in her current state.

"Are you sure, you might not be thinking clearly," Steve said.

Rem cocked her head to the side, studying his face. "If you're requesting I stop then—"

"I wasn't trying to request that, I—"

Rem reclaimed his lips, pushing him back against the building hard enough that bricks scraped and the wall exhaled dust from the force. He tilted his head to keep her horn from burrowing into the middle of his forehead, but otherwise he welcomed her mouth.

Rem was simultaneously sure that Steve Rogers didn't kiss a lot of women and aware that, to her, kissing him was like when she and sister had gotten into strawberries as little girls—she wasn't sure if she would be able to stop or contain herself.

"Rem, I-I.." The words spilled out of Captain Rogers's mouth as Rem moved to bite his ear. Her teeth gave a little tug, before she moved to his neck.

As the panic of combat slipped away and her body realized that there was a different kind of rush overtaking her now, she could feel the mana her horn drank in subsiding until it was gone. Rem suddenly became very away of her legs around Captain Rogers and his hand at the back of her head playing through her hair.

Even with her mind clearing, Rem didn't dare let go. She didn't stop Steve when he reached up and moved her chin so that she was looking into his blue eyes again. Her fear about him kissing her was completely gone too as shown by the fact that when he brought his lips to hers there was no trepidation, only a longing.

Rem gave herself over to that longing, letting it cloud her mind and cloud out everything else.