Chapter 208: Evolution?

Random art and a reminder to vote with your power stones!!!

Dante thought for a moment before saying, "Emma is your best friend. The Hellions look up to you. Felicia is a good friend. And I... admire you. That spar we had was the best fight of my life."

Before Psylocke had feelings for him, before he had trained her, before they had even met, she was Emma’s friend. He had only seen Emma ugly cry in his chest once, and he won’t let it happen again.

Psylocke had a blank expression like she couldn’t understand his point. "Why bring that up?"

"People are invested in you, Psy. You don’t get to throw your life away and leave us suffering."

What was the best way to put a brake on someone with extremely low self-worth? Remind them of their connections and responsibilities, remind them of the consequences. It was true in every sense. Her life mattered because people cared about her.

She pried her hand from his grasp and pointed at her chin. "You’re taking my right to make a decision?"

"I’m only reminding you of your worth," he said in a calm, reassuring voice. "Oh, one more thing. As my disciple, you can’t disgrace my reputation with a loss."

The word felt strange leaving his mouth, belonging to a far older tradition than both of them. But it was the only fitting word for their dynamic since he was training her.

Psylocke lowered her head and covered her mouth. The softening of her eyes gave away the concealed smile. "What do you want me to do then... Sensei?"

"One compromise." He raised one finger. "We’ll go together. I’ll take care of small fries so you can do whatever you want with the leaders."

She shook her head. "That feels... cheap."

"But they are your goal, no?" He crossed his arms, looking into her eyes. "Or... you want to suffer as an atonement for your past sins?"

Her eyes flickered. "How can you... I’m not seeking anything."

"Then agree with me," he said in a provocative voice. "Or you’ll train for six months before your revenge. The choice is yours."

Previously, they had an arrangement for her to wait until he gave her the green light, but that rule didn’t apply anymore. Psylocke had become more reckless and more eager to get her revenge. This was perhaps the result of developing feelings for him, forcing a shift in her mindset.

He filled up another glass of water and pushed it toward her. "I’ll give you a day to think about it."

Psylocke stared at her reflection in the water’s surface. "I know you’re acting for my sake... still, I don’t like being manipulated."

"I know," he said with a wry smile. "But you can’t do anything to stop me."

She flexed her fingers like she wanted to punch his face. This was a clear abuse of his power to pressure her into two paths, neither the one she truly wanted at the moment. He wouldn’t even be surprised if she started hating him after this, but he would happily destroy their relationship if the alternative was attending her funeral.

Psylocke lifted the glass and slowly drank the water. Once she put down the glass, her eyes were focused, devoid of any warmth. "One month, twenty days. Train me like hell. Break my body if you must... I want you to turn me into the deadliest sword. If I succeed, I’ll give you everything... that’s all I have."

He nodded with a faint smile. "Not a lot of time, but I can work with that."

They both went quiet after that. Jean, Ororo, Felicia, and Laura were trying to make sense of their conversation, but they grasped nothing.

Soon, Emma strode into the hall’s entrance. Following Emma was a parade of waiters and waitresses walking in an organized column, balancing silver trays high above them. The scent of seared meat made Dante almost salivate.

Psylocke unconsciously smiled before putting back her cold, ’unhappy’ face.

Emma ditched her convoy and dropped into the seat on Psylocke’s right. "What are you two mumbling?"

"Nothing of importance."

The words had the opposite effect of what Psylocke had intended. Under normal circumstances, Psylocke would’ve dismissed Emma with a glance—that was their dynamic. But by speaking, it came across as deflection, which was akin to an alarm bell for someone with Emma’s instincts.

"Psy, be honest with me," Emma said in a gentle voice, yet neither of them bought into that facade. "Do you love him?"

Dante perked up, a bit curious to know her answer after what he had just done.

"I don’t know," Psylocke said without batting an eye. "Only time will tell."

Emma blinked in a stupor. She had expected denial or avoidance, maybe showing some embarrassment. Psylocke, however, met the question head-on, showing the same calm and directness she brought to a sword fight.

"Good for you. Both of you."

She lifted the crystal stopper from the whiskey bottle with a soft clink and poured herself a generous amount of amber whiskey. She brought the glass to her lips without ceremony or toast, like a woman trying to drown a sour mood with alcohol.

Dante could only sigh at the situation. He cared about Emma, a lot more than she believed, but he had no idea how to handle her.

’What a mess.’

He just hoped she wouldn’t bury everything and hurt internally while smiling at the world. He wanted her to be happy.

***

The feast that followed was loud and warm—what everyone needed after the chaos of a bloody, brutal battle against the Brood. By the time they portaled back, it was half an hour past ten.

Felicia watched everyone leave and turned to him. "I’m gonna shower. Go back to your room and wait for mama cat like a good daddy."

Laura stared at Felicia. "Does she always talk like this?"

What she really wanted to ask was ’what the fuck is wrong with Felicia?’, but she had to settle for a less offensive version. She had a lot to gain from the white-haired woman tonight. Otherwise, Laura would never censor herself for someone other than him.

He reached out and rubbed Laura’s head. "I’ll check up on Gwen first. She must be hungry."

"Okay!"

He parted ways with the two and made his way to Gwen’s room. Grabbing the handle, he eased the door open slowly to stop any sound. He felt like he was trying not to disturb a sleeping cat.

The room was dark inside. Through the faint city light bleeding past the curtains, he could make out Gwen tucked beneath a thick blanket.

He stepped forward, only to feel his shoe coming down on a glass bottle. He would’ve crushed it if he wasn’t tip-toeing inside. Pulling out his phone from his pocket, he turned on the flashlight at the lowest setting and stared with wide eyes.

The floor was a crime scene.

Empty milk bottles lay scattered across the floor. Torn bread crusts littered the carpet, trailing from the fridge to the bed and back again. Broken eggshells. Raw chicken strips pulled from their packaging and chewed on. A block of cheese with bite marks. Finally, away from the chaos, a tub of Greek yogurt sat on the nightstand, which had been licked clean.

It looked like a raccoon had invaded a supermarket except it wasn’t the doing of any animal. The culprit was lying on the bed, sleeping with the innocence of an angel. Breadcrumbs clung to Gwen’s lips and a faint smear of egg yolk had dried on her chin. The evidence was right there.

’She sleepwalks now?’

Nobody licked a Greek yogurt tub clean in their sleepwalk. This was too much chaos. Gwen would definitely not make this mess while awake.

Something wasn’t right.

He put his phone away and stepped through the field. Kneeling by the bedside, he closed his eyes and initiated a surface-level Biokinesis scan.

At first, nothing seemed wrong. Her skin was warm and healthy, every pore alive with the vitality of youth. The injuries from her battle had already faded. Her body functioned properly.

He let his perception sink deeper and immediately found an anomaly. The outer layers of skin were renewing themselves at an impossible pace, fresh cells replacing the last before it had fully aged. Beneath the surface, capillaries carried oxygen with utmost efficiency. This was normal for an enhanced human. However, the same capillaries were slowly multiplying and new vessels branched from existing ones to feed muscles that didn’t need the extra blood supply. They were feeding muscles that hadn’t yet grown—her body was building roads to destinations that didn’t exist.

Her muscle tissue followed the same rhythm as her individual fibers detached, split, and intertwined back, becoming denser and more complex than before. This process shouldn’t take place in a non-injured person since it was a waste of resources. There was no damage to repair, no stress to justify the adaptation.

Her body was improving itself because it foresaw a need for improvement.

A chill crawled up the back of Dante’s neck. Everything pointed toward the same conclusion—Gwen’s body preparing for an evolution.

’Why?’

Frowning, he took an even deeper look at her nervous system. The rhythm of her brain remained peaceful in the gentle patterns of sleep. Nothing abnormal there. Outside the brain, however, was a different story entirely. Her nerves were branching out and extending tiny projections into the skin of her fingertips, palms, forearms, shoulders, and even along the sides of her neck. Her body was adding entirely new ways for her to sense the world through air movement and vibrations. This wasn’t in the territory of sharp senses anymore. She was developing senses humans were never meant to possess.

’An evolution.’

Every change had to originate in DNA, so he investigated it next. Her DNA should’ve stayed relatively stable since her body had long adapted to the spider bite, but he noticed activities in some sections of the double helix. Somehow, she was undergoing the process of awakening dormant genetic potential except on a much more complicated scale. These latent genes were undergoing evolution as they were being unlocked.

He scoured her entire body, but he couldn’t find any cause of her evolution. There wasn’t any virus, parasite, radiation, cancer, or anything to set off this chain reaction in motion. But the facts were before him: Gwen was mutating and nothing could stop it.

He stood up and connected his mind to Death’s. "Who did she fight today?"

"Spider-Queen..."

"Fuck."

The Spider-Queen’s kiss had fucked up Peter Parker once in the comics. Although he had forgotten much of the details, he vividly remembered the panel of Peter evolving into a giant, grotesque spider. The Spider-Queen wanted a suitable mate, so she had made one out of Peter Parker.

"Did she kiss Gwen?"

"No. She directly injected her enzymes in Gwen... The effect will be the same. Given time, a transformation will follow."

"Death, why didn’t you tell me earlier?"

Death fully materialized beside him and wrapped her arms around his chest, resting her chin on his shoulder. Offering comfort that only she could offer.

"It’s for her own good," she murmured in his arms. "If you wish to keep her around as a lover, as a companion, she needs to be stronger. An evolution will lay down the foundation for what she lacks."

He glanced at Gwen and clenched his fist. "I don’t want to see her in pain."

Death pulled back just enough to look up at him and gently pressed a finger against his lips. "Companion, do you know a mortal mind can only endure so much before it fractures? Do you know what puts the utmost stress on a mortal psyche? Dying and being dragged back to life. The mind remembers the trauma, even when the person doesn’t."

"But—"

"No buts, companion," she said, gently cupping his face in both hands. "You can resurrect them with my authority, but you cannot repair the fractured minds without rewriting reality itself... Do you wish to start rewriting reality to bring your lovers back to life?"

"No." He shook his head. "It’s my last resort."

"Then let her evolve. Let her fight... Let her struggle and grow stronger through it. That is the only way forward for her and the rest if they wish to stand beside you."

He reached a hand toward Gwen and wiped the breadcrumbs from her face. Biokinesis couldn’t stop her evolution. His knowledge wasn’t enough to make a change without fucking up a dozen other things. But there was a man whose knowledge was unsurpassed in this field. A man who had dedicated his centuries to studying genes.

The man he would be meeting face to face tomorrow.

He put a hand on Death’s shoulder and gently pushed her away. "No more hiding things from now on."

Death nodded softly. "I wasn’t going to, but you seemed too happy. I didn’t wish to be the bearer of terrible news and ruin your moment."

"You can," he whispered, reaching down to grab her hands. "I’ll never be mad at you."

"Mhmm, companion. Not tonight. You have an appointment with Laura."

His gaze drifted to Gwen, and he shook his head. "I don’t think I can do it tonight."

He would never be able to focus on Laura and Felicia. Gwen’s situation was stressing him out even though he knew he shouldn’t. The matters of heart was just like that. Even his Biokinesis couldn’t solve the problem without completely getting rid of his ability to feel emotions.

"Explain it to them, companion. They will understand."

"I know. Felicia, Gwen... they both deserve to know."

***

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