#mageto

“Tasha?” you called out, voice edged with confusion.

Her head whipped around, eyes narrowing. “You okay?”

You nodded, but the shock still clung to you. You both rushed toward each other across the uneven sand, boots kicking up wet clumps of earth and shattered webbing that stuck to the ground like old gum.

“What’s going on?” you asked, heart pounding.

“Not sure,” Natasha muttered, frowning as she scanned the eerie skyline. Tall, unfamiliar structures loomed in the distance—half skyscraper, half webbed nest—twisting into the clouds like something out of a nightmare. “Where the hell is this place?”

You turned slowly with her. The landscape was a chaotic fusion of nature and something else entirely—mutated. Hulking spider webs spanned between trees like bridges. Strange, twitching cocoons hung from branches. The skyline of what once looked like a city was warped—buildings overtaken by vines, spires crowned with chitinous webbed domes.

“Wait…” you breathed. “Is this Tokyo?"

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “But it so full of... glowing webs?"

“Maybe Tony made Peter his own island?" you muttered, your eyes catching something moving just beyond giant glass window—a flash of red and blue swinging from one web to the next.

And just like that, a distant thwip echoed in the room.

You and Natasha both turned sharply, instincts kicking in.

Spawning in again—just a few feet away from where you and Natasha stood—another figure shimmered into existence with a faint ripple of blue light and static crackle. The flooring beneath her boots shifted as she stumbled slightly, arms flailing to steady herself.

You blinked.

There, standing under the glare of the sun, was a face you didn’t know personally, but you definitely knew from somewhere else.

"Is that…" you pointed, eyes widening. "Luna Snow?"

"Who?" Nat raised an eyebrow, still in full spy-mode, though her stance eased just a little. "That supposed to mean something?"

You turned to her, half shocked. "Seriously? She’s a global Kpop star. Also has cryo powers... Tony's ringtone."

Before Natasha could answer, the woman in question turned to face the two of you, visibly confused but trying her best to smile through it. She brushed a loose lock of silvery-blue hair behind her ear, her stage outfit gleaming slightly under the sun’s harsh light.

"Oh! Hey there!" Luna called out, her voice melodic even when confused. "Um—do you guys know what’s going on? One minute I was rehearsing backstage, and then poof… now I’m here. And this is definitely not Seoul."

You stepped forward slightly, offering a hand. "No clue. Same thing happened to us. We were just walking through the city and then suddenly... here. In costume. On this really pretty city filled with golden webs..."

Luna hesitated for a moment, then accepted your hand with a firm but friendly grip. Her touch was cool—like holding polished glass.

“I’m [your name],” you said. “This is Natasha.”

“Nice to meet you,” Luna replied, then squinted at the horizon. “Wait a second, I think I know you guys."

Natasha crossed her arms. “You do?"

"Yeah, Y/N L/N right? With [your powers], and Black widow. You guys saved New York from those gooey monsters from another planet."

"Gooey monsters?" Nat tilted her head. "We fought in an alien invasion. Maybe were diffrent people in your universe or something?"

Just then, a sharp screech echoed from somewhere deeper in the jungle—high-pitched, fast, and definitely not human. You, Natasha, and Luna spun around at the sound, instincts flaring.

Something came barreling out of the tangled underbrush, weaving through web-wrapped trees like a missile.

It was… a shark.

Correction: a small, land shark, bounding full-speed on stubby legs, tail wagging behind him, and mouth open in a wide, toothy grin. His little fins flapped like arms as he zigzagged across the sand.

“Is can’t be happening…?” you blinked.

The shark spun in a circle, then sprinted toward your group—straight for you.

“Oh no—nope—no thank you—”

But it was too late.

The land shark launched into your arms like a missile, knocking you back a step before nuzzling against your chest like an overexcited puppy. You staggered, caught completely off-guard.

“He's licking my face—Nat, he's licking my—"

Natasha lowered her weapons, blinking. “Seriously, what the hell is going on?” She smiled as the shark calmly jumped from you to her.

Luna cooed softly at the little creature. "Aww, so cute! What’s your name, little sharky?"

Around the shark’s neck was a collar. Natasha gently grabbed the tag and read the name aloud.

"Jeff."

Spawning with a low hiss… and in walked a man with silver hair, a sweeping deep-red cloak, and a helmet that gleamed like it had never known dust.

Magneto.

He stepped out like he’d been expected, his eyes cool as he surveyed the group. The energy in the room shifted instantly — heavy, electric, reverent. Even the lights seemed to dim slightly around him.

"Ah," he said, his voice smooth but commanding. "Hello?"

"Hi there!" Luna smiled brightly. "The actual Magneto! Wow!"

"Yes, er—should I know who you are?" he asked, giving her a puzzled look.

"No," Luna shrugged. "But you should know that magnetism doesn’t work on super-cooled materials. Guess what I can do?"

"Be impertinent, it seems," he replied casually, looking past her toward you and Natasha.

"Ah. If it isn’t the Avengers — how wonderful."

“Magneto…” you hummed thoughtfully. “Y’know, I’ve actually never met him before,” you said to Nat. “Do you think Wanda would know him?”

Before Natasha could respond, Magneto turned toward you, chin lifting ever so slightly.

“Wanda is my daughter. Of course she would know me,” he said, his voice laced with pride. “For I am.”

He let the silence hang dramatically, cape shifting behind him like it had its own gravity.

Natasha gave you a look. “Well… that answers that.”

Magneto moved to the window, studying the glowing sprawl below. “Spider-Islands… a game, a trap, or perhaps a crucible. Regardless, something powerful is waiting at its center.”

Then — a pulse.

Soft, warm green light glowed from the far wall. A panel hissed open.

Everyone turned again, weapons halfway drawn… only to pause as a cluster of vines pushed through, growing rapidly from the base of the wall. Bioluminescent spores floated in the air, casting soft lights across your faces.

From the vines stepped a small, familiar figure — bark-skinned, with wide glowing eyes and a gentle hum of nature in his steps.

“I am Groot,” he said.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. "A talking tree.."

Jeff barked joyfully and ran straight to him, wagging his tail like crazy. Groot giggled and gave him a hug, vines wrapping around the little shark like old friends reunited after lifetimes apart.

Luna laughed softly. “Okay, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Even Natasha’s stoic expression cracked into a small smile.

Magneto observed Groot silently, then nodded. “Odd."

“Okay—are there any more people that are gonna show up, or is it just us?” Luna asked with a nervous laugh.

“Hey there!”

“AH!” Luna screamed, nearly jumping out of her boots.

A woman’s voice giggled in response. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you there, Luna.”

Luna blinked. “How do you know my name?”

“Oh, I know all your names,” the voice replied cheerfully. “Duh! I’m in charge of the multiverse. Like, the coolest job ever.”

You glanced at Natasha, who mouthed What the hell?

“Anyway,” the mystery girl continued, her voice practically sparkling, “I’ll keep it short! When the doors open, there’ll be objectives for you to complete. You’ll be facing off against familiar and unfamiliar faces.”

The room’s lights flickered in time with her words, casting an eerie glow across the floor.

“Each side that wins gets bumped higher in rank,” she added, chipper as ever. “And once you hit that mark? You’re free to go!”

Then silence.

As if she’d never been there at all.

Jeff growled lowly.

“…Did anyone else get Hunger Games flashbacks, or just me?” you muttered.

A low rumble filled the floor beneath you, followed by the mechanical clank of massive doors unlocking.

“But there’s a catch,” she continued. “You have to stay near the vehicle to keep it moving. If you wander too far, it’ll slow down… and eventually roll backwards.”

A beat passed.

“And if that happens? The other team wins, ranks up, and you—well, you stay stuck.”

A loud buzz signaled the end of the announcement, followed by flashing arrows pointing toward the now-open exit.

“Doors opening in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1!”

The doors slammed open with a mechanical whoosh, revealing the path ahead. Beyond the threshold, the island stretched out before you—vast, full of winding paths and towering obstacles.

And there, sitting in the distance, was the vehicle: a massive, sleek, futuristic transport, humming with low, pulsing energy.

The six of you stepped out the doors, all of you unsure of what to actually do. The moment you hesitated, a flash of light shot toward you.

You gasped and quickly stepped back, just as the light slammed into the wall behind you with a resounding crack.

Charging forward, you caught a glimpse of a young woman with yellow-blonde hair, her black outfit sleek and aerodynamic, like it was made for speed. She moved with precision, her eyes locked on your group, exuding confidence and power.

“Illyana,” Magneto warned, his voice steady but commanding. Without hesitation, he raised his hand, and an invisible force knocked her back, sending her stumbling.

“Get to the vehicle,” he ordered, his eyes narrowing as he focused on her. “I’ll handle the Darkchild.”

Running ahead, you were suddenly shoved to the side, your body slamming into the side of a nearby building with a harsh thud. You grunted, dazed for a moment, your head spinning as you tried to steady yourself. The sound of footsteps echoed nearby, and you quickly snapped your gaze up to meet your attacker.

Standing in front of you, arms crossed and eyes sharp, was Bucky Barnes. His face was hard, eyes narrowed with a familiar intensity, but something about him seemed different. Your breath hitched, lips parting as you took a step back, unsure whether to brace yourself for a fight or try to talk your way out of it.

"Is it... you?" you muttered under your breath, fingers flexing at your sides, wondering if he was the Bucky you knew or someone from another universe, a version of him twisted by a different fate. The memories of your Bucky flashed in your mind—his smirks, his soft side that only you got to see, his pain that mirrored your own at times. But now, there was nothing soft about him. Was this Bucky still capable of those quiet moments of warmth, or was he lost to something far darker?

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared at you with that familiar gaze—yet colder now, as if you were a stranger to him.

"Y/N?"

You nodded, your heart pounding as you took a tentative step closer. Without thinking, your hand reached out, fingers trembling, as if you could bridge the gap between you and the version of him standing in front of you.

But the moment your fingers neared his arm, he pulled back swiftly, stepping out of your reach like an instinctive reaction. His eyes flickered with something unreadable—anger? Fear? Regret?

"Don’t," he said, his voice low, barely a whisper, but filled with weight. "You don’t know me."

The words hit harder than you expected. It wasn’t just a warning—it felt like a barrier he was building, keeping you at a distance. His eyes softened for a second, and you saw the familiar pain in them.

You let out a bitter chuckle, the sound carrying a mix of pain and disbelief. "You sought me out before I could reach the real fight," you said, your words laced with a sharp irony. "My Bucky always did that too."

A brief flicker of something—recognition, maybe, or even a hint of guilt—flashed across his face. He took a step back, eyes shifting uneasily, as if your words had hit too close to something he'd buried. The Bucky you knew, the one you had once loved and fought alongside, always had a way of showing up at the most unexpected times, protecting you before you could make your own move. Always trying to keep you safe from the dangers that loomed ahead.

He exhaled sharply, as if your words had caught him off guard. For a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he glanced down at the ground.

"When you're low, come here. I'll guard you," Bucky said, his voice low but steady, as he gently reached out and touched the side of your face. His touch was soft, almost tentative, like he was afraid you'd pull away—or maybe like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to be this close to you again.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to stop, the air between you thick with unspoken emotions. His hand, warm and familiar, lingered on your cheek, the simple gesture bringing back memories of all the times he had done the same, when everything felt easier, when you both knew where you stood. But now, with everything that had changed, it was different. There was a tension in the air, like both of you were trying to figure out if there was still a place for that tenderness in this new reality.

Your heart skipped a beat at the feeling of his touch—this Bucky, from whatever universe or path he had come, was still the one you knew in some way, the one you remembered. And yet, the distance between you was greater than ever before.