MJ kept one eye on Peter Parker's expression while turning up the phone volume. Mysterio's voice spilled out, live, mid-interview.

"What? You're saying Spider-Man killed someone! No. I don't believe it. This has to be fake!"

"Spider-Man is my friend. The kindest, most pure-hearted person I've ever met. How could anyone like that kill someone!"

"Evidence... videos can be faked too, can't they? Maybe everyone really is just wrongfully accusing him."

"What? You're saying the video was analyzed and confirmed unedited?"

"This..."

In the livestream, Mysterio's voice, so certain just moments ago, started to falter. The fishbowl helmet hid any real expression, but the shift in tone was enough. Anyone listening could hear it: something in Mysterio's stance had quietly changed.

The chat was already flooding with sympathy.

[My heart breaks for Mysterio.]

[+1. Finding out your friend is actually a murderer, just thinking about it hurts. Poor Mysterio.]

[Mysterio was deceived by Spider-Man for so long, and even now still trying to defend him.]

[Really is... I'm crying.]

[...]

MJ snuck another glance at Peter Parker, then reached over and switched off the chat overlay. Without those words cluttering the screen, the tension in the group eased a fraction.

Harry gave a quiet, scornful laugh inside. If anything, this confirmed it, Mysterio was rotten. And if the guess was right, Mysterio was the one pulling the strings behind all of this.

What was the play here, exactly?

Climb to the top by trampling Spider-Man on the way up?

Peter Parker hadn't looked away from the screen once. Mysterio was still up there, still defending him, and Peter Parker's eyes burned with it. A quick blink. Then another. Keeping the tears from falling took actual effort.

At least there was still someone out there who believed in him. Someone other than the people standing right here.

The voice from the screen kept going. Mysterio faced the camera straight on, and the grief in that voice, genuine-sounding, earnest, carried through to every viewer.

"No. I still don't believe it."

"Spider-Man — if you can see this — meet me at the Brooklyn Bridge in an hour. I don't believe you could do something like that."

"If it's fake, I'll stand with you and we'll find whoever is really behind this. But if it's true..."

The weight around Mysterio was suffocating. The voice broke off there, choked, unfinished, but the chat and every viewer watching filled in the rest on their own.

If it were true, Mysterio would set aside every personal feeling and move against a former friend. To stop something worse from happening.

The group had already turned the chat off, but they didn't need to see it. They could guess exactly what was flooding across that screen right now.

"Peter... are you going to go?" Hermione Granger asked, carefully.

Caution said no, every past instinct said Mysterio couldn't be trusted. But Peter Parker's eyes were visibly red, and looking at that face, Hermione Granger couldn't find a single word to say.

What if the read on this was wrong?

"I'm going." Peter Parker's voice was steady. "Mysterio believes in me that much. The least I can do is go explain myself in person. I didn't do any of those things."

"And if I don't show up, everyone's going to think I'm hiding because I'm guilty."

That was the end of any argument. Ned Leeds patted Peter Parker on the shoulder, sniffled once, and made the call.

"Fine. Then we're all going."

There was no version of events where they let Peter Parker walk into this alone. If nothing else, if someone started screaming insults on the street, at least the group could scream back.

But Peter Parker gave them all a strange look, then smiled. "We? No. Just me."

Jaws dropped. Like Peter Parker had just said something genuinely outrageous.

"You're planning to go by yourself?!" Ron Weasley couldn't believe what had just come out of Peter Parker's mouth.

Draco Malfoy was just as displeased. Going alone under circumstances like these, what if Mysterio had already set the whole thing up as a trap? What if that was the entire point?

Draco Malfoy didn't yet know the guess had landed dead-on. A cold scoff was the only reply offered, but the displeasure came through loud and clear.

Peter Parker looked around at all of them. Every word, every flicker of worry on every face, it settled warm and deep somewhere in the chest. A quiet heat spreading through the whole body. The kind that made eyes go blurry without warning.

Peter Parker tilted back, working to push the tears down by sheer force. Sniffled. Replied in a voice gone thick and muffled.

"I'm fine. Nothing's going to happen to me. And what if people see you with me and take it out on you?"

It wasn't a hypothetical. Peter Parker had watched this exact thing happen before. When Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and the others became wanted fugitives over the Sokovia Accords, every comment section tied to their names became a wall of abuse, and anyone who spoke even one word in their defense got dragged down with them.

This was nearly identical.

That was exactly why Peter Parker couldn't let the group take this risk. Being on the receiving end of it didn't matter. Dragging everyone else into it did.

One last look at the group. Then, while no one was watching, a wrist flicked, a web line snapped to the rooftop above. "Go to class" was the only thing left behind before the foot pushed off and Peter Parker launched into the air. One blink, and the figure was gone.

"Peter! Pe—"

MJ didn't even finish. A gust of wind. Then nothing, not even a shadow.

MJ was about to ask the others what to do next. It hadn't been long since meeting Harry and the rest, but MJ had already clocked them for what they were. These were not the type to sit quietly in school and wait for news.

Sure enough, four broomsticks hung motionless in midair. Harry and the others were already mounted and ready. Ned Leeds was scrambling up onto Ron Weasley's broom, already waving an arm.

"Come on, MJ! We lose Peter if we wait any longer!"

Hermione Granger looped around on a broomstick and pulled up right in front. MJ stared.

So... during the time of the Blip... what exactly had happened to this world?

MJ was still mid-existential-crisis when Hermione Granger grabbed an arm and hauled MJ up onto the broom. Simultaneously, Ned Leeds dropped in behind Ron Weasley. Ron Weasley's expression flickered, barely visible, and the broom dipped a few inches under the added weight.

Then all four broomsticks shot forward like arrows.

"AAAAAAAAAH, you guys, pah, pah, PAH, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Nothing in MJ's entire life had prepared for this. Heart-stopping. Soul-evacuating. The kind of speed where death felt genuinely possible. MJ locked both hands around the hem of Hermione Granger's clothes and screamed, got a mouthful of hair for the trouble, spat it out furiously, and immediately went back to screaming.

Up front, Hermione Granger's entire skull was ringing. Genuinely concerned about permanent hearing damage, Hermione Granger turned back and offered a reassurance.

"Don't worry! My flying marks aren't as high as theirs, but my Charms marks absolutely are, if you fall off, I promise I'll catch you immediately!"

A firm, confident nod followed.

MJ: "..."

MJ: "Thank you, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

On another broom, Ron Weasley was flying with teeth gritted, wheezing under the effort of carrying Ned Leeds, lungs working like bellows. Then something seemed to occur to Ron Weasley mid-flight. One hand let go of the broom, dug through a bag, and a mobile phone came sailing back to Ned Leeds.

"Quick, call, wheeze, first contact in the list, no passcode, just tell them, pant, Peter went to find Mysterio alone!"

If Mysterio was exactly as dangerous as they all suspected, the whole group showing up would just be walking into a slaughter. This needed professionals.

Ned Leeds caught the phone with a blank look. Opened the contacts. The very first entry read: A-Respawn Point.

Ned Leeds:?

No time to figure out who "Respawn Point" was. Ned Leeds dialed. A few rings, then the line connected.

"Ron?"

A woman's voice. Ned Leeds had no time to ask questions, just launched straight into the message. All four brooms picked up speed at exactly that moment.

"AAAAAAAAAAAH, Miss Respawn Point, Peter, AAAAAAAAAH, he went to find Mysterio all by himself!"

Back at the compound, Yang Luoluo held the phone to her ear. Wind howled through the line. Someone was screaming loud enough to rattle the speaker.

She slowly formed a question mark.

Who on earth was talking?

➤ Next: Iron Man's Livestream

Chapter 140 - Iron Man's Livestream

Yang Luoluo blinked, straining to catch the key points through the rush of wind and the waves of screaming on the other end of the line.

"You're telling me Peter went to find Mysterio alone?"

"Yes ahhhhhhhhhh! We can't stop him ahhhhhh — we can't stop him!"

Yang Luoluo: "...Okay. Got it."

She hung up, but the unease didn't go away. The voices on that call had clearly been sprinting after Peter, and Ned Leeds plus four wizards was not exactly a combination that put her mind at rest.

She got one more word in before she ended the call. "Don't let Mysterio spot you. That guy is bad news."

"Okay ahhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"..."

Yang Luoluo ended the call without expression.

She swept the cluster of bottles and jars off the table, shoved them into her bag, and made for the main hall, where the Avengers were already assembled and ready.

The moment the trending search exploded, J.A.R.V.I.S. had pinged everyone. They had never bought the story that the usually cheerful, well-behaved Peter could do something like that, and with Mysterio surfacing right on cue to give an interview, anyone with eyes could see something was wrong. Tony had heard Mysterio's offer: meet at the Brooklyn Bridge. Tony had known immediately what Peter would do.

Tony knew this kid too well. Peter would carry the whole weight alone before letting it touch anyone else.

Gut feeling said Mysterio was planning something big. That was exactly why Peter could not be allowed to walk into it alone.

Tony didn't even need to think it through. After Mysterio's string of public statements defending Peter during the broadcast, Peter's trust in the man would only have grown, and that trust was precisely what made Peter vulnerable right now.

Still.

Tony's smile went cold. Anyone who wanted to come after the Avengers had better make sure they had the life for it.

"Everyone ready?"

Tony swept a look around the room. Nods came back from every direction.

In the same breath: red-and-gold armor flowed over Tony like liquid metal, Steve snapped the cowl into place, Natasha patted the guns at her hip, Wanda let red energy curl between her fingers, Pietro dissolved into a streak of silver-white wind, and Yang Luoluo pressed her half-mask into place.

"We're going to deal with whoever's been giving Peter a hard time."

Steve's voice was quiet and certain.

...

Peter had no idea.

By the time Peter arrived at the Brooklyn Bridge alone, the entire area was already packed with hidden Avengers. Spotting Mysterio standing isolated in the middle of the bridge, Peter jogged over, visibly anxious.

"Spider-Man. You came."

That familiar, warm voice. Peter felt some of the tension leave him.

Peter nodded.

But through that fishbowl helmet, Peter couldn't read Mysterio's face at all, had no way of knowing that the person Peter trusted like a mentor and a friend was already struggling to contain a smug, triumphant grin.

This Spider-Man is a complete idiot. Actually came alone.

Mysterio nearly laughed. Though honestly, better this way. If Peter had brought a pack of Avengers, things would have gotten complicated.

Safe behind an expression no one could see, Mysterio let his gaze drift casually across the empty air nearby. Tucked invisibly in that air: dozens of cloaked drones, already running, recording everything.

Once today's plan landed, a little editing, and the footage would go out. Mysterio's reputation would hit heights it had never reached before. That much was certain.

Not far away, concealed behind a building, Tony was listening closely to J.A.R.V.I.S. through the suit.

"Sir, scans confirm 23 cloaked drones with active recording functions in the vicinity of Quentin Beck and Peter."

Tony's scoff was quiet and cold. The picture was clear.

Pulling clips out of context. Editing the footage. Sure, keep dreaming.

"J.A.R.V.I.S. — cut off whoever's talking to the fishbowl from the outside."

A plan this size didn't have a cast of one. Mysterio and every accomplice behind this wasn't walking away.

"Mysterio's suit communication system has been successfully intercepted."

Tony flicked a finger. A tiny robot, barely visible to the naked eye, dropped from the armor, pattered across the bridge surface in quick little steps, and tucked itself into a corner.

At the same moment, the Iron Man account, tens of millions of followers, went live.

The public already knew the time and place. It didn't matter. Nobody was getting close to that bridge. Not the rubberneckers, not the press.

For one thing, Spider-Man was still carrying the label of murderer. What if someone accidentally provoked Peter and ended up with a spider-leg through the chest?

For another, what if Mysterio and Spider-Man actually threw down? Collateral damage was real.

Watching drama was one thing. These people had barely survived the Blip. They weren't about to throw their lives away on a bridge in Brooklyn.

So the instant Tony opened the stream, viewers flooded in, so many the platform stuttered and lagged before it caught up.

They landed on the feed and saw Spider-Man and Mysterio standing face to face. The chat erupted.

[Oh my god they're so close I can see the texture on Spider-Man's suit!]

[AWOOO thank you Papa Iron!]

[Only Iron Man would think to go live for us at a time like this!]

[...Does the internet have no memory? Iron Man had his own scandal break literally two days ago.]

Tony caught a few complimentary comments and was just about to deliver a satisfied little "hmph", when the next comment landed and his expression went flat.

Out of nowhere, Iron Man's voice drifted into the stream, lazy and unhurried.

"If you're referring to the incident where I cut in line for donuts — ha. Congratulations. That viewer will never purchase donuts from any Stark-owned dessert establishment again. Ever."

The chat went eerily quiet for a few seconds. When it came back, the screen was wall-to-wall laughing.

[No way. No way does anyone actually believe slander that ridiculous.]

[Someone earlier tried to smear Falcon for running a red light. He was IN THE AIR. I can't breathe.]

[Right? And the one about Quicksilver speeding, completely unhinged.]

[Someone said Dr. Banner was useless. Dr. Banner is literally hanging on our classroom wall...]

[Bro you are a certified clown lmaoooo]

[Like, you could have just searched that shop? The wiki has the exact date Tony Stark acquired it. It's right there.]

[...]

The mockery was rolling, the laughing relentless, and then a single comment punched through.

[Go ahead and laugh. Don't forget Iron Man and Spider-Man are teammates. Spider-Man's a murderer, so what does that make Iron Man?]

Tony's guess: whoever got roasted earlier, nursing their wounded pride.

The comment did its damage, though. The chat thinned out noticeably. What trickled back in was laced with doubt.

[Actually... that's kind of a fair point. Spider-Man did kill someone...]

[Why would Iron Man suddenly be generous enough to go live for us? Is he trying to rehabilitate Spider-Man's image?]

[Boycott Spider-Man! Boycott the murderer!]

[...]

Tony watched the chat spiral, edging by the second toward a virtual conviction. He cleared his throat and pulled the room back.

"All right, all right. First, this stream exists so you can watch the conversation happen in real time. No context gaps, no doctored clips later."

"Second, it's a reminder that the Avengers don't operate without a moral compass. If Spider-Man actually did what's being claimed, we would have handled it ourselves before Mysterio said a word."

"But if someone's been engineering all of this from behind the curtain..." Tony laughed. It was a perfectly pleasant sound. The audience shuddered anyway.

"Don't worry. We won't be letting that person off, either."

Tony watched the comment count plummet and smiled to himself. Called it.

Yang Luoluo had been watching the whole performance from off to the side:...

Truly something else, Tony Three-Year-Old.

"All right. I'll leave you to it. Enjoy the stream."

Tony dropped that last line and killed his mic. Clean. Done. And on screen, the conversation between Spider-Man and Mysterio came through, crisp and clear, into every listener's ears.

➤ Next: Loki's Return — A Twist of Fate