CHAPTER SEVEN
Good Samaritan

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IT WAS TWENTY MINUTES to three when Cecelia realized she hadn't seen Peter in a while. Which was weird, because she'd been able to keep track of everyone else—Ned and Betty had rented a gondola for a romantic canal ride, Flash was still vlogging the locals, and the rest of her classmates were taking selfies by the water. Peter usually wasn't one to venture off alone, especially in civilian clothing. He wasn't overly extroverted like Christine, but nine times out of ten, he'd prefer to spend a day with his friends. Even if he was a major third wheel to Betty and Ned now, he still had Cecelia. And he got along with Alex and Christine, too, even if they weren't that close.

So, what the hell had prompted him to go off by himself?

Cecelia rubbed her wrist. Immediately, her brain began spewing out prompts for the worst possible scenarios. What if an old enemy had figured out who he was and come after him? What if some creep decided to drag him into some alleyway and he was unable to fight back? What if aliens had attacked again and specifically targeted him?

She wanted to ask Howl how likely any of those situations were, but he wasn't here. She'd left his coding back at the hotel, tucked safely into her bag. Damn it. She'd found lately that he wasn't just good for Phantom stuff—he was great at talking her down from panic attacks, too. In fact, she'd been working on integrating him into a pair of earbuds (though he'd only be activated if she used a certain code word, so her earbuds could keep working as normal) that she could take everywhere she went. But she hadn't finished that project yet, because of course she hadn't.

Before she fell into a proper freak-out, though, she remembered that a) her classmates and friends were right there, and someone might have seen him, and b) twenty-first-century technology existed. If no one knew where he was, she could just call him. Peter always left his ringtone on, so if he didn't pick up, she'd know that there was trouble.

First up, though... she turned to Josh and Zach, who were bumping shoulders, pretending to push each other in the water. "Hey, have you guys seen Peter lately?"

The duo halted their play-fighting and turned to her. "Oh," Josh said. "Oh, yeah. He headed over to the shops while you and Michelle were doing your gross pigeon thing. I guess he's still there."

The shops. Okay. That actually made sense. He was probably just looking at souvenirs, either for himself or for May. Peter didn't have any Italian ancestry—he was all Irish and English, Cecelia was pretty sure—but May did. Perhaps he was just thinking about her.

"Thanks," Cecelia said. The tension began to slowly drain out of her body, but she still resolved to go look for him. It had only been twenty minutes since the pigeons (she'd spent her time since then looking out at the waterfront with the others), but he needed to get back soon, anyway. Plus, a weird part of her was missing his company. He could do whatever he wanted on this vacation, but she kind of wanted to spend some of it with him.

Not, like, alone with him, of course. She just wanted him around. Was that weird? Cecelia rubbed her wrist again. The scarring there was minimal, but there was a faint line from the breakage. Even Shuri's advanced nanotechnology hadn't managed to heal that completely.

Whatever. Cecelia headed toward Alex and Christine, who were sitting on the edge of the pier with their legs dangling over the water. They'd invited her to join them, and she had for a bit before her intrusive thoughts began to crawl their way to the forefront of her mind. And because she wanted this to stay a good day—because it was, it really was—she'd had to back away.

"Hey," she said. "I'm going to find Peter. I'll be right back, okay?"

"What?" Christine asked, looking up. She squinted past the glaring sun to meet Cecelia's eyes.

"I'm going to find Peter."

"Huh," said Alex, looking up from his phone. Cecelia couldn't believe he'd been on TikTok while they were literally in Venice, the setting of multiple Shakespeare plays (Alex had always been a big Shakespeare fan), but she wasn't here to judge him for his choices. "All right. Have fun."

"Yeah," said Christine, with a knowing look on her face. "Have fun."

Cecelia ignored her because she wasn't going to entertain her friend's weird fantasy right now. Instead, she turned around and nearly bumped right into MJ.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, MJ," Cecelia said, stumbling back.

"No worries," MJ said, looking up from her sketchbook. She'd been sketching and walking at the same time, which explained the near collision. "I guess it's my fault for not paying attention."

"Nah, you're good."

"Good." MJ snapped her sketchbook closed.

"Yeah."

MJ tilted her head at her. "What are you doing?"

"Um... I was just about to go find Peter. I haven't seen him since we got here, so I just wanted to make sure that he's okay."

"Oh." MJ nodded, and Cecelia expected her to step to the side. She didn't. Instead, she said, "Nice. Can I come?"

"Can you... come?" Cecelia repeated.

She shrugged. "I was just about to go the same way, actually. I need to take a few pictures of Doge's Palace for reference. You know, for my art. I'm planning to do this big drawing of all the places we've been to on this trip..." she trailed off. "Sorry. That probably sounds stupid."

"What? No! That sounds really cool, actually." Cecelia may have been a whiz with technology, but the arts had always eluded her. She could barely draw stick figures. But she'd known MJ was a talented artist since before they'd become friends. Her work mainly focused on people—those 'in crisis', as she referred to it—but her scenery was amazing, too. Cecelia was sure the final piece would be brilliant. "You have to promise to send me a picture when you're done."

"Oh. Um, yeah." The faintest hint of a blush dusted her cheeks. She always got like that when someone complimented her. As if she couldn't quite believe it. "Sure."

"You want to go, then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

"All right."

The two of them set off, heading for the shops at the other side of the square. Cecelia knew from her research that there were a few cafes, a classic tourist store, and a stained-glass shop. Venice was famous for its stained glass. She had been thinking about buying something while she was here, but she really didn't have the money to drop on such a purchase.

Before they reached the stores, though, Cecelia stopped to allow MJ to take more photos of the palace. As MJ angled her phone just right, Cecelia thought back to Brad videoing her with the pigeons.

"Hey, uh..." The words were out before she could stop them. "What's up with you and Brad?"

"Huh?" MJ asked, keeping her eyes glued to her phone. "What are you talking about?"

"I dunno. Weren't you guys hanging out earlier?"

"What? No." MJ let out a derisive scoff. "He just offered to take a few photos of me with the pigeons. I said yes because there wasn't anyone else around."

"Hm. Okay."

"Why? You got a thing for him or something?"

Now it was Cecelia's turn to scoff. "I would literally rather jump in the Hudson River."

MJ lowered her phone and smiled. "Yeah, that's what I thought. He's been bothering you lately, hasn't he?"

"Was it that obvious?"

"Well, maybe. Or I'm just really observant." She caught Cecelia's look. "Nah, I'm kidding. It's obvious. And it's also obvious that he's been talking to Christine, who has also rejected him. Funny how he seems to have a thing for that, huh?" She raised her phone again.

"Literally yes. Has he been talking to you, too?"

"Yep. Asked to help me with my luggage back at the airport. And my carry-on on the plane. But he's not my type. I'm not into jocks." She tilted her head, then amended, "Well, not male jocks. I find female jocks far more attractive. Especially football players. I always admire the ways they so casually smash the patriarchy."

"Oh," said Cecelia, letting this sink in. "So, you're, um... you're bisexual?"

"Yep." That was it. Just, 'yep'.

"Cool. I ever tell you I'm ace?"

"No, but that's cool, too. You into anyone romantically?"

"Just guys, I think. Maybe non-binary people, too. I don't know. I've just been calling myself heteroromantic."

"You don't have to know right now. It took me a while to figure my own sexuality out. You know, for a society that claims that any queer character is 'forced diversity', they sure do push heterosexuality on us a lot. It really messed things up for a while."

"Same for me," Cecelia agreed. Especially since for a long time, she'd often been told (either directly or indirectly) that she was simply too young to know whether she ever wanted sex.

"Anyway, about Brad, I think he'll lay off eventually. But if he doesn't, I'll punch him in the face."

MJ's tone was matter-of-fact; there was no joking to be found. Cecelia couldn't help but smile at that. She really was glad she'd become friends with MJ.

"Well, thanks. But for the record, I can do it myself."

"How about we tag-team?"

"Now that is a good idea."

MJ stowed her phone in her pocket. "Well, I'm done here. Let's keep going."

"Sure."

They set off again. There was a minute of companionable silence between them as they walked, then Cecelia asked, "What was the word, anyway?"

MJ blinked. "What?"

"The Italian word you said you really liked."

"Oh. It was—"

Peter appeared around the corner before she could finish, a small, golden bag in his hand. Cecelia's shoulders drooped in relief at the sight of him, whole and uninjured. Of course, he was all right. She'd been worrying for nothing. Peter had a knack for getting in trouble, but that was with the Spider-Man suit on. As Peter Parker, he was just an average high schooler that faced nothing worse than mild bullying from Flash.

Peter was so busy looking down at his bag that he didn't even notice them. Before he could walk right by them, though, MJ said, "Boh!"

Peter looked up and immediately shoved the bag behind his back. His eyes lit up at the sight of the two of them, though Cecelia didn't know who it was directed at. "What?"

"Boh. I was just about to tell Cecelia about it. It's the most perfect word in the world. The Italians created it, and I just discovered it."

"What does it mean?"

"That's the thing. It can mean a million things. It can mean, 'I don't know'. 'Get out of my face'. 'I don't know and get out of my face'. It's the best thing Italy ever created, except for maybe espresso."

"Oh, so you've been drinking espresso?"

"She has," Cecelia confirmed.

MJ shot her a look, but before she could say anything, a man faced them. He was wearing a blue baseball cap and a brown button-down and held multiple roses wrapped in plastic. "Hey," he greeted, in a heavily accented voice. "German?"

"Uh—" MJ started.

"American." The man held out a rose to MJ, ignoring Cecelia entirely. "A rose for you."

MJ held out her hand. "Boh."

The man's face dropped immediately, and he turned away without comment. Cecelia gaped at MJ. So did Peter.

"Whoa," he breathed.

"That was impressive," Cecelia added.

"Boh is my new superpower," MJ said. "It's like the anti-'aloha'. I was born to say this word. So, what's in the bag?"

Peter glanced down at the bag like he'd forgotten it was there. The faintest hint of red came to his face. "Oh, uh..." he shrugged. "Boh."

MJ smiled. "Nice."

Cecelia was too curious to let it go, though. "You buy a souvenir or something?" she asked. "Or some stained-glass thing for May?"

"Um. Um." Peter turned to her, obviously unprepared for the question. "Um, yeah. It's for May. It's for May."

"...Okay? Why did that sound like a lie?"

"It wasn't a lie. I'm not lying." Peter rubbed the back of his neck. The three of them descended a set of stairs until they were right at water level. "Why would I lie about that?"

"I don't know." Cecelia knocked her shoulder into his, then flinched away. "Whatever. It's fine. I genuinely couldn't care less."

"Okay. Okay."

Cecelia gave him a smile, ignoring the way her shoulder was now tingling. That was stupid. Just like everything else she'd done since things started getting weird with Peter. Why did she keep doing stupid things?

"Whoa, cool," MJ said suddenly. Cecelia followed her gaze, only to find that the previously calm water was now rocking back and forth. Multiple crabs, obviously unsettled by this, were scuttling out of the water and onto the docks. MJ crouched down in front of them and took out her phone.

Cecelia was about to do the same when Peter took her arm. Pulling her away from MJ's earshot, he hissed, "CeCe. Something's wrong."

"What?" Cecelia asked.

That was when the water exploded.

The magnitude of it was enormous, sending several gondolas and boats in the water careening to the side. Tidal waves swept over the surrounding docks, missing Cecelia, MJ, and Peter by the skin of their teeth. Even so, water rained down on their heads.

One of the gondolas made a beeline straight for them, leaving the water and sliding along the walkway. It crashed into the doors to one of the buildings with a bang, jolting to a hard, violent stop. It was only then that Cecelia realized that the screaming people inside were Ned and Betty.

"Betty!" Peter immediately scrambled over to help them out. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Betty took Peter's hand and climbed out of the gondola, sunglasses slipping off her nose. Cecelia pulled Ned out, and he landed heavily on the walkway, eyes wide. Around them, people screamed and ran away from the canals. Cecelia suddenly got a deep, sinking feeling of dread.

"Come on," Peter urged, taking his best friend's arm. Cecelia turned back to the water. It seemed to be... rising, but not like a tsunami. No, the movements the water made were far too precise to be from a natural disaster.

"Guys, we gotta go!" Betty screamed. But Cecelia stayed where she was.

Before her eyes, a monster emerged. It had human limbs and proportions, but that was where the similarities ended. Not only was it larger than all of the buildings that surrounded it, but it also seemed to be made of water. It was packed together in that man-like shape, but constantly undulating, spraying whenever it moved its gargantuan head. It didn't seem to have a face, but the water pooled into a gaping hole that became a mouth, and that mouth opened to let loose a low, menacing groan.

Ned latched onto Peter, his face paling. "What is that?"

"I don't know!" Peter responded.

"What are you gonna do?!"

"I left my suit in the hotel room. Cecelia doesn't even bring hers here."

"What?" Ned gasped, his voice around two octaves higher than normal. Cecelia got that. Overwhelming panic was beginning to overtake her, too. "Why?"

"Because we're on vacation, Ned!"

"We gotta—we gotta do something, though," Cecelia choked out. It was obvious that her fun day had come to an end, and responsibility had sunk its claws right back into her. Because of course this would happen. Of course she couldn't just... not be Phantom.

Peter nodded, obviously realizing the same thing. "Everyone will see our faces," he said, chewing on his lip. "Ned, get them out of here."

Ned nodded and turned away from his friends, joining Betty and MJ in their sprint upstairs. Cecelia turned back toward the monster, unable to breathe, because she was utterly defenseless. Shit. Shit. Shit. She hadn't even brought her fucking stunners.

"Any chance you can phase through water?" Peter shouted at her.

"No!" Cecelia shouted. "My powers don't work like that!"

"Okay. Okay, okay, okay!" Peter rubbed his neck again. "Shit, let me think!"

Of course, there wasn't time to think. With another roar, the monster slammed its fist into one of the buildings, cracking it. The building tilted, and waves gushed over the side, beginning to flood the square.

Peter swore. "All right! CeCe, I need you to go look for anyone that might be trapped. I'll try to hold this thing off!"

"How?" Cecelia shouted.

"I've got my webshooters here! Look, CeCe, just go!"

Cecelia wanted to ask him why the hell he was wearing his webshooters—and why he'd brought his suit, for that matter; he'd told her he wouldn't—but she understood that there wasn't time for that (plus, she was regretting the fact that she hadn't done the same thing). Instead, she just gave him a nod and a "Be careful!" before melting through the walls of the nearest building.

No one noticed her enter; they were all too busy trying to leave out through the back door. Cecelia ran forward, her shoes sloshing in the already ankle-deep water, and made sure no one was left behind. But everyone seemed to have streamed out the door, so Cecelia followed them.

Outside was chaos. Waves swept through the square, carrying away anyone still on ground level. All of the tourists Cecelia had seen before were either fighting the current or clambering for higher ground. Multiple boats rocketed through the area, capsizing their passengers, and all of the tourist traps—including the rack where she'd gotten her mask—were floating through the water.

The monster lurched forward, its fist colliding with yet another building. More water came through, and Cecelia's chest tightened. What she'd said to Peter was true. She couldn't phase through water. It consumed her just as well as it consumed everyone else.

But she had to do something. So, she took a running start and jumped into the water.

It was still shallow enough that she could stand, though wading through it made her far slower than usual. The tides battered at her on either side, trying to sweep her off her feet, but she latched onto the walls of buildings and the fences surrounding the docks in order to remain steady.

Despite the fact that she couldn't phase through water, though, becoming intangible did keep her lighter—and thus less prone to being carried away. It was because of this that she could move freely, even when the water levels continued to rise.

The monster didn't seem to have a direct target in mind—instead, its goal seemed to cause as much chaos as possible. Cecelia wasn't sure where it had come from or why it had surfaced in Venice specifically, but there would be time to question the particularities later. Right now, she had to focus on rescuing people.

That was her job, after all. She hated herself for forgetting that.

There were two tourists desperately trying to pull the skirt of a local from where it had been pinned underneath a cart. Cecelia darted over to add an extra pair of hands. The tourists seemed surprised by her arrival, faces bleached white with terror, and the local was nearly about to faint.

"Let me help!" Cecelia said. All three of them turned to her.

"Who are you?" a man asked. "You should get out of here, kid! This thing isn't stopping!"

The local sobbed, praying fervently in Italian.

Cecelia ignored them both and crouched down, hooking her hands underneath the cart. She yanked desperately, and it appeared to be just what was needed. The cart lifted just far enough for the local to free herself. She stumbled forward into one of the tourist's arms.

"It's okay, it's okay," the tourist—this one a woman—said. "It's okay. We have to get to higher ground, though. The water's rising."

"Let's climb the railings over there!" the man suggested, pointing to a balcony that was both low enough to support them and not directly in the water. The path to it was easy; they would make it there for sure. "Come on!"

The woman nodded, tugging the local along. Just as she began to move, she turned to Cecelia. "Come with us, kid! You can't stay here!"

Cecelia shook her head. She was aware that she wasn't Phantom right now—she just looked like a girl, soaked to the brim—but that wasn't going to stop her. "I'll go another way!"

"Wait—" the man protested. But Cecelia was already flinging herself back into the water.

Becoming intangible again, she continued her search for anyone who might not have been able to find that higher ground. She ended up helping a few school children who had been trapped between their gondola and a wall, a family of four, and what might have been one of the musicians from earlier. She was just about to follow the latter up when she heard it.

A little girl sat atop a crate that was rocking around in the water, screaming her head off. It seemed that she'd gone for higher ground, but not high enough. The water was slowly beginning to rise as the monster sent more waves over Venice's buildings, and fairly soon, she was going to be completely overtaken.

So was Cecelia, but she didn't let herself worry about that. She didn't wait a second before bobbing over to the crate, becoming solid and latching onto it before it could continue its movement. The girl, who must have been five years old at the oldest (which made Cecelia think of herself waking in the rubble of the reservation), let out a sharp gasp. Fat tears rolled down her face, even as she peeked her head over the edge of the crate. When she met Cecelia's gaze, she only cried harder.

"Hey!" Cecelia said. "Hey! Hey! I'm gonna get you somewhere safe, okay? I'm gonna get you to higher ground!"

The girl tilted her head, confused. It was obvious that she didn't speak English.

Well, it didn't matter. Cecelia glanced around wildly, searching for a good drop-off point. In moments, she'd spotted a staircase that was only half submerged. There was a huddle of people at the top, holding each other and peering over the edge. When they noticed Cecelia, they screamed and waved their arms.

Cecelia sucked in a breath. Still holding onto the crate, she began to drag it over. It was harder now that she was solid, but the crate itself worked in her favour, and her feet still provided her with some grounding.

Even so, by the time Cecelia reached the staircase, her muscles were trembling. She held out a hand to the girl, gesturing to the staircase. Comprehension dawned on the girl's face, and she took Cecelia's hand, jumping onto the solid surface. Then, without looking back, she scurried upstairs and joined the others.

Once she'd reached them, they cheered, then gestured for Cecelia to come join them. Cecelia paused, glancing back at the water monster again. Peter didn't seem to have had any luck with it, and her chest was closing in on itself at the fact that she'd left him to do it alone. She needed to go back and help him, suit or no suit. Even if she had no idea how that would work.

Mind made up, she was just about to push through the crowd and make her way back when she saw it. A beam of green light struck the monster head-on, causing its form to distort. Just as quickly, it was whole again, but it still let out a screech.

Cecelia sprinted up the stairs, pushing her way through the crowd she was sure was readying to give her pats on the back. Now at the edge of the roof, she had a better view of what exactly was going on.

A figure cut through the sky, leaving a trail of smoke behind them. They wore a suit of gold and green armour with a red cape fluttering behind them. A domed helmet almost resembling a fishbowl obscured their head, hissing with gray fog.

As Cecelia watched, the figure moved their arms, forming green triangles at their palms. An Enhanced. And one that seemed to have arrived just in time.

The monster struck out at the Enhanced as if it could sense the threat. The Enhanced dodged skillfully, remaining afloat. They twisted under the monster's arms and struck out. The triangles at their palms formed into two jettisons of green mist. The offensive move connected again, but the monster was unfazed. It continued to lash out at the Enhanced, erratic and uncoordinated. Cecelia was immediately reminded of the Hulk.

But while the monster was clumsy, the Enhanced was smooth. They ducked and weaved under every single attack, occasionally firing back with their green mist. When the monster finally managed to make a direct punch, it was blocked by a green shield that suddenly solidified from the Enhanced's hands.

The Enhanced pushed back against the monster, but whatever they were doing wasn't enough. The monster powered up, and, with a thud, sent them flying back into the dock.

Someone grabbed her arm, and Cecelia turned around to see a stranger. He spoke in rapid Italian, pointing and gesturing at the monster, then back at the group. The crowd was beginning to move away, heading deeper into the city and further away from the danger. It didn't take a genius to decipher what the man was trying to tell her.

Cecelia jerked out of his grasp. "Thanks, but I'm okay," she said. She really needed to stop standing around. She needed to get back into action. It seemed that Peter had help, now, but it was clear that this was an 'all hands on deck' kind of situation.

Ignoring the man just like she'd ignored the tourists, Cecelia ran back toward the monster. She had to leap across several rooftops, which was precarious, but fortunately, the jumps were easy. After all, she could make them, and she didn't have Spider-Man Enhancements.

Halfway there, the monster swelled up. A roar left its gaping mouth, and, across the canals, waves began to grow and twist. Cecelia swore and increased her pace. Yeah. It was really all hands on deck, now.

Fortunately, the Enhanced seemed to have recovered. They jumped right back into action, continuing their assault with their green mist. Every blow the monster sent at them, they hit back, doubly their efforts to take it down. They even managed to blast its head off its shoulders, though this was only a momentary victory. It re-formed only seconds later.

Cecelia kept running, trying to form a tentative plan. For once in her life, she couldn't come up with anything. Perhaps she should get over to the Enhanced and ask them if she could do anything to help. They'd just see a kid, but it didn't matter. She wanted to do anything she could.

It was her fault that she hadn't been more prepared, after all.

Before she had the opportunity to do anything, the Enhanced took off, and the water monster began to follow them. Immediately, it was obvious what they were trying to do—they were trying to lead it away from the canals. But this would undoubtedly put more of civilian territory into danger. Cecelia sucked in a breath.

That was when her phone started to buzz in her backpack.

Cecelia fumbled for it, even as she thought Really? Now? But it was a miracle that it was still working, and this might be important.

But the caller ID that flashed across the screen wasn't one of the two she'd expected. Instead, it was Peter.

How the hell he had time to call her right now, Cecelia had no idea. But she answered regardless, even as she started running again.

"Peter—" she began.

"CeCe!" Peter practically shrieked. His breathing was laboured, and it was clear by the volume and distortion of the call that he was swinging. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, are you? I'm trying to follow the monster right now—"

"Forget the monster! I'm working with another Enhanced right now, and I think he's got it. He's trying to draw it away from the canals."

"You're working with them?"

"Yeah, but that isn't important! We've got everything covered here, I think, but I need you to keep everyone out of the line of fire! The mystery guy's doing the right thing, but he's going right through the city. Someone might get hurt!"

Cecelia thought my friends, and her stomach almost dropped to her toes. This was her fault. This really was her fault. She should've been more prepared. She should've known something like this would happen. She shouldn't have been so fucking stupid.

Her throat closed up on her, but she managed to choke out an, "Okay. I'll try. But Peter, I don't—I don't know how much I can do."

"It's okay. Anything will help. Just—please, Cecelia. I couldn't live with myself if anyone got hurt."

"Okay. Okay."

"I've got to—shit! I've got to go now. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I—"

The line went dead.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Fuck. This was all wrong. This was all wrong. Cecelia was just one girl. How the hell was she supposed to do any of this? She wasn't even Phantom right now. She didn't have any of her gear.

She had to try, though. She'd already saved those people back in the square. And—she thought of Christine and Alex again.

Her resolve hardened. She had to save them.

Just as she was about to cross onto another roof, her eyes caught on something lying on the ground. It was one of those carnival masks. This one was black with white feathers, and probably about the furthest thing from Cecelia's Phantom mask. Honestly, it would probably just serve to make her look ridiculous.

She put it on, anyway. Once it was safely secured, she took off again.

She didn't feel quite like Phantom, even with the mask, but she was no longer just Cecelia, either. And that, perhaps, was just what she needed.

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HAVEN: yeah, play time's over, kids :((( we're back on the train straight into angst territory!! stupid quentin beck >:( 

of course, the fact that cecelia didn't bring her suit is going to be a major source of guilt for her throughout this fic - especially after a little something that happens next chapter. yeah, you remember when she said that she could be both cecelia and phantom?? wellllll this is going to be a definite setback for her. but mental health really isn't linear, and my girl is going through a lot :(( i wish she was real just so i could give her a hug.

also. one more thing. as i've been drafting this fic, specifically act one, i have realized... just how long it is. i'm talking 150k+ words for act one alone. how did this happen? i have no idea. but it's just a warning so you know what you're getting into 😭

thanks for reading!! <333