Miguel surveyed each panel presented to him. Each monitor featured a different file pulled from the hard drive- research about quantum physics, another about tears through reality that allowed one to quite literally look through the hole as a window without the other side being able to see you.

The last one unsettled Miguel. It talked about gaining power by absorbing the energy offered by a special vessel- consuming the person completely.

Was that why spider-woman was brought here? What was Spectre trying to accomplish by absorbing powers? Who was consuming it? Why did they want spider-woman specifically? Why not someone from another dimension? Or had they already been taking others from their dimensions, and this was the first time Miguel was aware of it?

And did Spectre belong to Miguel's world, or were they from another dimension entirely?

He paged Xina. Some of the files were still locked by passcodes, he would need her to unlock those before he did any further research.

A bit later, he heard a noise outside his door- laughter. Did she bring someone with her? He frantically looked around for his shades but there were nowhere to be found on his desk. He tried to see if they slipped underneath it when he heard the door open- bumping his head against the metal.

"Ouch!" He rubbed his head, lifting it to see Xina at the entrance, and... another woman behind her.

His gaze traveled across her form, her style quite similar to Xina's as if she had borrowed from her wardrobe. Shiny material fabric, solid white suit that was baggy below the knees and elbow but tapered in, waist outlined nicely by neon yellows and orange. Her face was unfamiliar though. Green eyes behind her glasses squinted and looking past him.

"Damn, why's it so dark in here? Your boss el chupacabra or something?" He heard her try to whisper, ignorant to his enhanced hearing.

Xina grimaced, eyes quickly making contact with his as Miguel let out a snort.

"I thought I only requested your presence, Xina. Did I accidentally mention an assistant too?"

Esme bristled, confused where the voice was coming from. She couldn't see squat in this office.

"Very funny Miguel. I wanted to introduce you to Esmerelda Costello. One of the new trainees we got this year. I was giving her a tour before you so rudely interrupted me." Xina clicked her tongue, crossing her arms as she walked inside.

"Uh, I can wait outside," Esme stayed by the door, her eyes flicking between the very ominous lighted office, and what felt like the dazzling hallway of safety.

Miguel rolled his eyes. "You'll get back to your tour in a bit, this shouldn't take long. You can wait there newbie, give me and Xina a minute to discuss something."

"Oh, okay." Esme let out a sigh of relief, stepping back out. She could check off meeting her scary boss later on the list.

Once Miguel heard the doors close with a hiss he pulled back the panels again and showed Xina the glaring red lock symbol on the file he was trying to access, 'Project_Twin_Rings'.

"This is concerning. What's so important that they secured it so tightly?" Xina murmured, pushing Miguel aside to take control of his console.

"That's what I'm wondering. Can you get in?"

She flashed him a smirk. "Is it even a question?"

"No I just like asking things for no reason." Miguel rolled his eyes as he leaned back, watching as she carefully began working away.

"Did Lyla already give this a try?" She glanced at him from the curtain of her hair.

"Yes." He bit back another sarcastic comment, deciding against it. "She couldn't get past the first layer. Recommended her mom give it a try."

Xina laughed. "Well, I'll update her after this so that she can be able to handle more of these types of encryptions for the future. I got other things to do, you know."

"Like what? Mentor fledglings like the one you have outside?" He scoffed. "She didn't look like she knew the difference between RAM and the mammal."

"Hey, be nice to her!" Miguel grunted as Xina's elbow dug into his arm. "Don't be such a shocking ass all the time. Just because she's not a nerd like us two doesn't mean she's not talented."

"Oh yeah? In what way?"

"I'm not sure, but I guess we'll see since she might be hired as the choreographer for the gala's dancers."

He laughed through his nose. "Didn't know my mother's next project was bringing back the traditional arts."

"Well, you know Conchata. Ever the patron activist- preserving what makes us humans and fighting the good fight for freedom." Xina laughed and Miguel couldn't help but laugh with her.

Xina's fingers stilled as the screen gleamed, a loading pop up halting her work for a moment and giving her time to relax.

"You know, this is nice." Xina murmured, causing Miguel to look down at her.

"Working on decrypting a file that may or may not contain life and death information?"

She snorted. "No, hearing you laugh again. Mister chupacabra."

His hands wiped the smile off his face, exhaling at the dumb name. "Don't call me that. Now you just ruined it."

"Pfft, sure. Hey, has Father D'Angelo contacted you at all lately?"

Miguel paused. It had been awhile since he had last listened to any of the voicemails she left. He stopped seeing them at all just a week ago. He never saw the point in attending all the family dinner's Father D'Angelo invited him to. He saw it as being nothing but a dreary blight in their evening if he attended. A reminder of the daughter and sister they lost, because of him.

"No, I haven't. Why? Has she said anything to you? Is she okay?" He couldn't help but feel his pulse quicken.

"She's fine, calm down there." She patted his arm before the screen beeped and she quickly went back to her keyboard. "I was just wondering if you were going to the dinner tomorrow. She's asked about you the few times I've gone. She's worried about you- all of them are."

He shook his head. "I don't know. I don't want to ruin the mood if I go."

"Don't be so harsh on yourself Miguel, you might make a sour joke but they'll care enough to laugh. And anyway, it's just going to be me and Father D'Angelo tomorrow. You should come."

Miguel pondered for a moment. A small dinner didn't sound so bad. But it had been so long since he had any social interaction outside of work- he hadn't even been attending corporate events. He never saw the point. He didn't need the limelight, didn't want any attention. But now he wondered if those occasions were something he missed out on. If he was missing human interaction after being alone for so long with just an AI to keep him company.

"Don't become a boring old man, Miguel." Xina teased before bursting in excitement as one of her commands struck hold in the encryption. "YES! Who's your mama?!"

Miguel smiled at her joy, then thought about the dinner again. Could he really go? He was tired of the countless conversations he already forced himself to bare in board meetings and presentations. Maybe this could be a bit refreshing- even fun, like Xina said. He glanced at the screen to his right, footage of the hallway and at the girl still waiting outside.

"Maybe." He muttered.

Xina quickly finished out the rest of the code before standing up in triumph. "Xina Kwan has still got it! Hah! Had me worried for a minute but I pulled through- the file is all yours Miguel. Oh, and here's the address for tomorrow." She reached in her pocket.

"Be there then at this venue at nineteen hundred hours on the dot." She passed him the address, pixels on a screen transferred by her hand into his watch's surface. "Maybe the fun Miguel isn't gone after all."

He rolled his eyes while she stood up, patting his shoulder.

"Well, I'm all done. Time to get back. See you tomorrow, Miguel."

"See you..." he looked down at the address, glistening squares forming black translucent letters. "Maybe it won't be that bad."

He couldn't have thought of a more cursed sentence than that.

- – — 🕸️🕷️🕸️— – -

"One two three, one two three..."

Esme counted each step as she twirled in what once was her living room. She had pushed the chairs, couch, and carpet against the wall and the rest into her bedroom to create the open floor, and dimmed the French windows to an adequate tint that she could use it as a mirror.

"I'll be ready with a routine by tomorrow, I said." Esme huffed, sweat dripping down her lip as she repeated the same lifted leg spin for the fourteenth time.

'It'll be so easy! I said.' she rolled her eyes and nearly tripped to make sure her ankle didn't follow suit.

She sat down on the floor, smoothing back her hair from her eyes and tucking it back in her ponytail. 'Yeah, well, I also said I was going to be a doctor in first grade and look where that got me! Maybe I should learn when to shut up!'

She had been so quick to agree simply because she was scared to miss the opportunity- missing the entire fact that what Conchata had asked of her was much more difficult than Esmerelda had predicted. When it shouldn't be. It was supposed to be something to show off her skill, to give an idea of what Esme was capable of- not even a big time part for a ballet. And yet her heart was skyrocketing more than when she auditioned for the New York Ballet.

Esme sighed.  'Maybe Sophia was right that I'm too spontaneous.'

She had been working at this for hours, mixing in some of her old choreography and other moves she was familiar with to piece together a Frankenstein of a routine. Certainly no one here would know the difference- but she knew she would.

Miss over-achiever just couldn't show up with an old dance that she already knew by heart. Because nooo, every performance needed to be original. The perfection she held herself to was surely either her self-sabotage or self-preservation at play.

And yet she couldn't dance at all for some reason.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to get back up again. Esme just needed to relax. It was probably her anxiety hindering her. After all she was stressing out about trying to impress everyone. It was part of being the people pleasing person she was. What probably got her into this whole mess to begin with considering she couldn't say no to being spider-woman.

Plus, she wanted to feel useful and not just a problem in this world. She felt so helpless when she was transported here, unable to stop Ophelia on just a simple covert mission- or capable of preventing her and spider-man from capture.

He looked at her like she was this fundamental problem that needed to be removed from the equation. Treated her like a reckless teenager that needed to be babysat. Like come on, she wasn't that terrible.

An image filled her mind of Halcón slamming her into a building with the fractured and horrified gazes of the citizens behind the fractured glass behind. She then recalled their fight progress, her attack sending him crashing into one of the overhanging rails of a subway, the train carts slamming the brakes to avoid impact. She cringed. Okay, maybe she did have a bit of a problem with collateral damage.

But not with dance. With dance, she was her complete, human self. She could do no harm on the stage except to herself. Be whoever she wanted. Not a circus freak. Not some wannabe hero. Not a failure. The only way she could prove to the world she wasn't just an impulsive bomb waiting to go off at any moment.  At least, that's how it usually was.

Tomorrow may not be the big exposé she always wanted. But it was a start to get her life back in theory. Learn everything she could while she was here, so that way the earth that she went back to got the Esmerelda Costello they deserved.

So she played the music again, got to her feet, counted to the tempo, and tried again.

'If you can't even dance, how will you fight?'

She staggered forward, her shoulder bumping into a lamp and hearing the metal clatter against the wall before falling onto the floor. Esme cringed, holding her head. That voice again. Why hadn't it left with the hallucinogen from her system? Was it just her nerves talking?

Maybe. She was really losing her touch. What happened to the carefree girl she was? Get your head in the game Esmerelda. You're a Costello, act like it.

A deep breath. She set the lamp back on the small table, played the music back over, and counted.

"One two three, one two three..."

– — 🕸️🕷️🕸️— – -

Miguel's anger upon trying to read through project "Twin_Rings" and finding it had been wiped clean could only be described as patiently filling out a forty question questionnaire, only for it to refresh and start over so close to the finish line.

He figured out that the file had been rigged from the start that if it was ever copied to another drive or the login was ever falsified, it would purge everything automatically. He was lucky it didn't wipe the entire harddrive thanks to Lyla interfering with the algorithm, but now he was back to square one.

There was one other thing though that had been bothering Miguel since the day they escaped from Spectre. The vision of Gabriel. Something in his mind was telling him there was something wrong, so much so that he followed his gut and found himself in front of Black Thorne prison. The prison he had suggested Alchemax make all those years ago. How ironic that he now found his own little brother in the place of his making.

He forced himself on most days to avoid thinking of the events that led to such circumstances. But on most nights, the memories forced themselves on him. Forced to hear the gravely voice that taunted him. See the glistening skin that looked like rows of emerald shards carefully placed like scales of a dragon.

But the man he saw once he walked inside didn't look like that. Behind the sheen of glass, was just a tired, shy face. The ever innocent little brother Miguel always knew.

"Gabriel."

He smiled slightly, dark brows lifting in an ever forced embrace of happiness. "Took you long enough to visit me... I knew you'd come back."

Miguel paused, looking over at the dark orange and grey suit he wore. It looked scratched up, the fabric on the collar just recently pulled loose.

"Is someone bothering you in there? Just say the word and I can tell the guards to deal with them."

"No," Gabriel shook his head. "Don't worry about me. It'll only make it worse anyway."

Miguel sighed and Gabriel let out a soft laugh through his nose.

"I take it that you finally believe I'm innocent? Since you've shown up and are showing concern for my well being and all?"

Miguel stiffened.

"I... I looked into what happened for months Gabriel. Searched the scene top to bottom, looked for foul play, checked footage- all the evidence pointed to you." Miguel's voice lifted involuntarily, bouncing off the walls and making a few heads turn.

He sent them a glare before he turned back to Gabri and lowered his voice.

"I really didn't want to believe it, Gabri. But it was you. You're the Green Goblin. It's the only thing that makes sense- even if I don't want it to."

Gabriel slumped in his chair, looking down. "I thought you were quite the detective. Guess I was wrong."

He wasn't the only one that felt disappointment. Miguel had hoped for a little more than just that- for Gabriel to muster up at least a little bit of proof- a point in the direction to help himself out.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so." Miguel stood up, eyes pointed to the ground. "Are we done here? If that's all you have to say for yourself?"

Gabriel looked away. "If you truly think I'm capable of what that guy did to you, all for just petty revenge over Dana, then yeah. I don't have anything shocking else to say."

Miguel rolled up his fists. Why did his brother have to be so god damn frustrating? This had been pointless. He stomped away, signaling to the guard he was done before he exited.

He couldn't believe this. He didn't understand why he had come here. Did he really think that he would have gotten answers visiting Gabriel, just because he was told to in a shocking hallucination? He was usually more methodical about things, every action having a purpose and outcome already thought out. Never acting on impulse.

No, that wasn't true. This wasn't the first time he had acted impulsively. It started with her. When Xina was endangered all because of Spectre, with whatever plot that entangled spider-woman.

Maybe that spider-woman was already rubbing off on him. Her recklessness like a virus- her voice alone infecting his brain and wiggling it's way to his impulse-control. Contracting around him like a python and squeezing his common sense out one ear as she laughed.

Everything was going wrong ever since she showed up. Spectre almost ripping a hole through Nueva York- forcing him to put back on the mask he swore to never wear again. Then getting abducted by super-powered goons and experimented on like a lab rat.

Falling behind in paperwork and deadlines. Missing board meetings. And now making a visit that was completely unnecessary and a waste of time. The only thing he accomplished with seeing Gabriel was raising his blood pressure exponentially.

Miguel had it to here with that woman. She wasn't just a blot of ink on paperwork anymore. She was more loathsome than a mosquito- and there was only one way to deal with an annoying bug like that.

He needed to squash her for good.

A/N:
HEHEHEHE IM BACK SUCKERRRS

did ya miss me?

Low and behold, I call this arc the acclimation arc, and it's getting closer to the transition into our next arc 🤭 lots of things are happening and a few plot lines are about to finally see the light while another gets its clarity. I'm so excited you have no idea.

Thank you so much to everyone who's stayed this far in, who's voted and left so many fun comments- I absolutely love it and read all of them even if I don't reply.
It's a long journey and we're not even halfway into the story, but boy is it a fun rollercoaster I promise. So keep your seatbelts on even at the calm points, because it can always take a sharp turn when you least expect it 😇