Chapter Text
Humans dream.. Dream of all infinite possibilities of the what, why, when and how.. Whether it is memory or made up, it is still a mystery.. dreams.
Why do we dream?
Some don’t dream. Not because they simply don’t do it. But because they live in nightmares. Nightmares that make you want to never go back to sleep.
Nightmares that haunt them. Expose their true subconscious feelings they maybe themselves aren’t aware of.
But mostly, those nightmares show what you are supposed to see; a truth. THE truth.
…
The supermassive black hole stretching across the horizon, nearly overtaking the entire pitch black sky that was just a moment ago filled with the flickering stars and galaxies. Now, its singularity turned the sparkly night into.. nothingness. A empty vacuum of space. Maybe it was supposed to be like this. Maybe this portrayed her subconscious feelings that were fading as the years of life pass.
The white event horizon and the other outer lines were melting down to the earth, a surreal scene, as if the void itself couldn’t hold itself up properly. Empty black eyes that mirrored the singularity stared upon it outside, standing in the tall grass, not seeming fazed by it. In fact, it felt familiar, such a terrifying celestial object felt to her like it was in a way connected with her. A connection that was like a nonexistent family but instead someone just as close as this. Even if it was this inanimate object.
And there it was again. Before her, on the ground in the ash-colored grass, there was this same letter that looked like it had been laying there for eternity, a cream color having taken over the white of the paper. A cursive handwriting spelled out the same words she never understood:
“How long has it been? Since.. ‘yesterday.’”
“If you hear this, Selthira, if you are still here.. in existence somewhere out there.. please, wake up. They are awake.”
- Selmira
…
Again, the fairly same dream, just this time like usual having grown a more clear picture—as if every time she woke up from it, the picture and the meaning behind it was getting clear behind it, even if she still didn’t understood it and at the same time didn’t want to bother trying to understand the dream—the same one ever since she has grown conscious. Ever since she was a kid.
…
Outside, everything was fairly quiet—at least for Hell’s Kitchen standards. But Selthira could have sworn today felt especially quiet. Of course the entirety of New York never slept really, especially Hell’s Kitchen. Maybe that’s why it was so odd that it was so.. silent, even when she herself didn’t mind. Maybe it was her own brain simply convincing her it was always this eerily silent. Because it knew silence was a comfort, rather than unsettling.
As soon as she took the first step out of the front door of the little psychic shop she lived and worked in, the cold air hitting her though not in a uncomfortable way. But, she froze in place right in the doorframe, not even daring to move, as if.. listening in for something beneath the silence. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Per usual.
So, stepping back inside, moving the black expensive-looking velvet curtains to the side along with some dangling golden accessories that hung across the curtain, she now entered back inside, the pocket galaxy inside the sphere still the same, cold, eerie glow that to most was almost a frightening look—but was a comforting one for Selthira behind the veil.
Maybe it was the experience of having been a psychic.. back her whole life back as orphan until now. Her passion only became one to make money after she had been old enough and had the money to buy this place and open up the shop. Maybe she just simply saw comfort in things most people didn’t. In the things that'd unsettle others with how.. disturbing it could get.
She sat down behind the sphere, the curtain blocking out every street light from outside, chains dangling and ringing softly from the curtains that had just been moved by her. Everywhere inside the shop, the lights were out. It was always like that It was by choice. It wasn’t to make this place seem creepier and more haunted than people already claimed it to be. She just disliked these bright lights. They'd already nearly cost her her vision entire. It's why her work was a night shift, with the bed time being during the day time.
It did sound like the sleep and work schedule of a vampire, but she wasn’t really anything beyond a “mysterious” psychic as rumours describe her mostly with words.
Unlike most psychic shops outside Hell’s Kitchen, she was the real deal. Sure, they could be others among the scam schemes, but she hadn't heard of one yet. No false truths, no scams.
In fact, money was the last thing on her mind. In her opinion, humans sought out what was unknown to them—beyond them. Greed. And she knew the Sanctum Sanctorium themselves in another part of New York were definitely not going to provide such answers just like that, hence them definitely being more knowledged when it came to such heavy knowledge and even magic of all sorts--mostly though mystic arts. Of course, some knowledge was meant to remain forbidden to the public, but she was sure that even the Sorcerer Supreme and his students knew more of the true nature and the secrets of life, compared to her.
But that of course didn’t mean she was useless. She actually was more useful than them over there. She compared to them for example was freely willing to just throw out such knowledge—even if it came down to someone daring to want to look into their future. And most of the times; it didn’t look good for them.
But that, of course was only one of the few things she was able to provide in her services. They weren't unlimited, but enough to satisfy. Selthira also was of course aware that doing such a thing and proving to not just be some money-grabbing scam of a psychic was gonna get her on at least some sort of wanted list—by someone—by literally anyone. It was one of the many reasons she locked herself up inside here, away from anyone's sight. She knew some were haunting her out, seeking to find her for ill intended purposes just to find her vanished, not sitting in her black chair—that had the same velvet fabric stitched into it, and looked just as ancient and expensive as the curtain and.. literally anything else around her. It wasn't just outsmarting threats, it was also an underlying fear she'd never let show on the surface. But she has long accepted the risk.
Another reason no one could ever catch the culprit behind this psychic shop, is her unknown face. The only fabric hanging over her head was a black veil that stopped just short at her shoulders. It didn’t entirely cover her normally, but the soft, dim glow of the sphere in front of her and the darkness surrounding her from the lack of lights did the rest to cover the entire upper half of her face, only letting the people in on the black hair and rather dark, creepy atmosphere surrounding her and also emitting from herself.
She didn’t care though. In everything; politics, war opinions, conflicts, everything—she felt neutral towards them. Even towards that particular popular group called The Avengers, that were apparently some heroic group that protected the Earth and everyone loved. It sounded a little cliché but it once again wasn’t in her interest or her place to comment, judge or form an opinion on that. She simply let fate, the years pass by her as she lived and accepted in the fate of the world—just like any other human. This life was treated as if she just knew she was going to reincarnate into a next life.
"A.. hopeful better one.." She uttered quietly to herself, a sigh leaving her.
...
Even after all these rumours, even so late at night, many people throughout the days, months, years still dared to step foot inside the shop. Even with the empty register desk that never was occupied by anyone, the various old paintings that all included stuff about some rather dark Greek mythology—specifically ones like for example the painting of Nyx that somehow hung right behind her of where the surrounding same velvet curtains were, like the one that served as a "entrance" to the reading room. Nyx; Primordial goddess and personification of the Night. It’s the figure in Greek mythology she believed in the most, and admired the most, believing it to represent her without any good explanation as to why so. Because she didn't knew herself. Nyx was born from Chaos—from the Void. It is also said she spawned the children that represent the concepts of death, sleep, fate and misery, that though have gone missing ever since. Some even like to believe that she was a primary creator figure that could create reality. Indeed a intriguing figure even if the knowledge about this figure in Greek mythology was very limited.
Selthira watched yet another customer this night enter her shop, the footsteps growing closer and eventually finding their way to behind the curtains, of where the mysterious figure sat in, elbow placed on the table and fist holding her face up that slightly tilted, making her look even bored almost, even without needing to show her face for that. Her long, black sleeves that were made out of silken and fell loose to the table with the elbow on it due to how loose and purposely oversized they were, the stranger could also see the black thin velvet gloves that she wore—made out of the same material as her top was. The rest of her outfit was hidden behind the rounded small table that was big enough to fit a person where she sat, and one on the opposite side as intended.
No person she didn’t want inside her shop, prying on her or just asking for her services was allowed here. If they tried.. well, she’d be gone again. Maybe even the Sorcerer Supreme tried sending one of his students to investigate on this throughout the years she had been working and living here, but then again, the student sent wouldn’t most likely dare or the Sorcerer Supreme simply wasn’t interested. At least not yet.
The customer now, who now hesitantly yet eventually sat down, practically sealing his fate looked ahead, clearly like the most that entered here trying to grab a glimpse of her face or literally anything else of her apart from the barely visible lower half of her face, that only was visible due to the glow from the galaxy that gently swirled inside the sphere.
And after the guy couldn’t grab a look at her, his surprise eventually switched down to the small galaxy inside him, his eyes immediately shooting back up to her. “Is that.. real?” He asked, unsure if that was even possible to have an actual galaxy in miniature size stored in a glass sphere. Clearly, he was fascinated by it. As most customers were, though with the only exception that his fascination appeared to be almost child-like. How old was this kid?
In response, Selthira still seemed unfazed. “You know the answer, so why ask?” It could have been interpreted as rude, but maybe it’s just her own voice and the tone she used that made it sound ruder than intended. And while it did seem to intimidate him a little, he of course wasn’t going to back down now.
“I.. came here to Hell’s Kitchen from Queens because I heard you’re an actual psychic.. unlike the other shops around New York. I heard you do some crazy services..” He began speaking again, a small smile forming on his face. “I want to know-“ But he was stopped by a simple hand held up from Selthira, signalling him to stop talking, not moving her position, head slightly tilting more against her fist. “I know.” She clarified, to which the guy seemed surprised but then the next second calmed his expression, as if he realised it was normal since she seemed like an actual psychic.
And without another word, she retreated her hand, seeming to grab under the table cloth before holding the same hand back up, revealing a deck of black poker cards to him, making him stare a little confused and in anticipation. “Right.. I know that you well- know it, but I still feel like I need to ask. I.. don’t know if psychics can do this, but I just want to know if my Uncle Ben who died long ago is out there, doing good with me in other timelines.. Or my Aunt May. I just.. still miss them, ya know? And I heard you can do such stuff."
And right away, he looked straight at her, now looking bewildered, quickly waving his hands in front of him. “I mean I know it sounds crazy, I'd never have thought I'd actually go to one of these psychic shops but Mr- Dr. Strange said he can’t do it because he doesn’t have the Time Stone anymore and because he said such a thing is too risky." Then, the guy stopped, as if realising he may have shared too much to the psychic. But as if she sensed his exact worry, whether it was because he fell quiet or because of what she was, she sighed, silently and in a slow motion shuffling the cards. “I am aware of the nature of this reality. Of the stones that form the very concept of life and stars.” She explained, sounding almost philosophical even if this was simply how she explained. "But even my knowledge and service are limited. I may not be able to provide exactly what you want, and it is also a great risk to peer with my vision." Then, the cards were softly slammed down the table, perfectly in the middle next to the sphere.
“Child, tell me your name.” She then demanded next in a softer tone, though still sounding demanding enough.
“My name’s Peter. Peter Parker, miss.” He answered right away, his posture revealing that he definitely was more relaxed thanks to her reassurance. And perhaps it made him grow more confident since he next asked: “And.. what’s your name, miss?”
"Selthira."
...
Came and nothing else. Now, she placed the freshly shuffled deck of cards in the middle of them, next to the sphere that was held up on a silver holder that looked just as expensive and vintage as the whole decoration of this place. “Grief, Mourning, Denial, can make you wish for the impossible.” She started again, her voice now reduced to a near whisper. “I too have my limits, and have to act within the laws of nature. Such a request is a dangerous risk."
Selthira wasn't going to convince him off it. He came in here, asking for it whether he was certain or still hesitant and unsure about this. She herself was unaware of the exact risk and possible consequences of this, since this is admittedly the first time she has been asked for this. It also was draining, feeding off her mental state, which makes her honestly just slightly anxious just thinking about this. But.. money was money, and there weren't always enough customers to fully pay the bills and rent. And she never denied a clients request.
As if Peter noticed her having drifted off for a moment, her hidden gaze seeming to be down on the insides of the sphere in front of them, he quietly cleared his throat, as if almost a bit too scared to be too loud. Then, he began speaking up again after giving her a second. "Did you.. ever do this, miss?" He asked since she honestly didn't appear as confident as she first gave off when he walked in.
She flinched subtly when he spoke, making the shadow on the upper half of her face slightly lift, yet still not enough for Peter to see the entirety of her face, let alone her eyes. She saw no reason to lie. "No." Was all again, once again showcasing her lack of will to socialise. It was simply business and shouldn't give anyone a reason to try and stir up a proper conversation from her apart from occasional questions, especially for first-time customers. Everything else was just brushed up with mumbles of understanding or one to two word responses from her.
Peter in response fell silent, the silence between them both along with the lack of light in the room and with the only source of some light being the soft, cold glow of light coming from the inside of the sphere that cast a eerie glow at his own edges. Yet while it didn't seemed to altogether bother the psychic in front of him, it made him feel now more anxious than her most likely. Was this really a good idea? Peter couldn't help but feel like he was going to regret that. Maybe it's his 'Peter tingle' subtly predicting and hinting at something he couldn't quite figure out yet.
But before he could start thinking about whether leaving for the good or not, she started again with a clear: “But, with these cards you see stacked in front of you, you may glance at 'the tree'. Each card lets you view the 'leaf' it represents.” She now finally sat up straight, the lower half of her face now even more visible—now that it wasn’t hidden behind the clear sphere anymore as her index finger came up to her lips, signalling silence before explaining. “Yet it requires silence. Do not interact, do not speak at all, even if to me. The timelines and I are very fragile and interacting will fracture these universes and they will cease to exist even by just touching someone's hand there."
And now, as if noticing the confusion on Peter's face, she took a second. “Simply imagine a leaf hanging on a branch with many other leaves on a tree. If you break one, it dies--it loses life.” And this seemed to have somewhat cleared up the confusion for Peter as he now slowly put up a small smile, eyes wide and brows furrowed as if in his head it was going: 'Ohhh, I get it'. And he now voiced his understanding too. "Ohh, I gotcha."
Silence fell between them after that again for a quick moment. She was the first to break the silence this time. “Your guidance through your eyes, through my eyes are the echoes of the void. Listen to them, they may themselves be long lost by unknown reasons, but will guide you through the safest path as long as you don't stray.” And then, she expectantly looked at him, now remaining quiet as if expecting him to himself give a nod of approval or anything that signals he understands. “Got it. Just one question— Is this really safe? I mean- I always thought only like magic stuff like Mystic Arts or the stones have such power.. y'know like-” It was a reasonable question. But a psychic never reveals his secrets, especially one as deep as this, in to which she too in response hummed a soft. “Shhh..” Already grabbing a card from the top of the deck to distract from the original rambled question. And he seemed to have picked up on it and understood, as he immediately tensed up and shut up whatever he was about to say now.
"I will gaze each card and let the fate of the void choose the next. Do not worry, I will ensure your safety.. as best as I can." Not exactly out of care but more out of the fact that she didn't needed someone to sue her over any damage put onto them--if that was even possible in such deep stuff. Probably worked and would probably get her shop closed--the only source of money. And she saw him already trying to part his lips to speak up again but she instead spoke before he could. "Close your eyes." So, instead of choosing to butt in again with his curiosity now at peak, he finally listened properly, saving her the headache and slowly and hesitantly closing his eyes, as hard as it felt not to say or ask anything.
At first, everything was normally black for him, silence surrounding him. And then, Peter could hear her soft hums in some language coming from her lips that he couldn’t understand and was sure wasn't Greek or Latin, as similar as it sounded. But he seemed to slowly understand that it was maybe some ancient language she used to even be able to perform something as bizzare--comparable to what Dr. Strange probably could do with the Time Stone. He now too realised that he didn't even question on how she was even capable of such, even for a psychic. He thought this was like in the stereotypes where they would simply read fortune, fate or whatever while having their crystal ball in front of them and at the end charge a hefty sum for the session. But clearly she must be using something like forbidden knowledge possibly, to even possess such a ability.
But it suddenly took everything within Peter not to let out any sound of surprise or visibly flinch when he could see flickers like stars at the edges of his closed eyes at the last word hummed from the woman Selthira. A small panic settled when he couldn’t open his eyes back up, as if his eyes were suddenly glued shut. He knew he still was sitting in that chair thanks to his Spidey sense but he still felt that sudden, weightless feeling, as if his soul was separated from his body—like Dr. Strange did to him once with his Astral Body. But this was something entirely different, he could tell that much.
Fortunately the timing was right with his unease and slight panic that only continued to spike as every second passed. Before Peter could start doing anything irrational and accidentally ruin this all, his “eyes opened”. Not exactly opened since it honestly didn't feel like they were open, despite the darkness before his eyes that now was gone, replaced by something else. Something that made his eyes go wide. Looking around the space.. or whatever this was. It looked like he was in some unknown part at the corner of space. Silence.. Oddly this part of space seemed more eerie, darker somehow than what he saw with his first time in space back when Thanos still was alive and a walking threat. Everywhere he looked were.. white bubbles or whatever these were, along with vines that seemed to connect all these bubbles together. They looked like actual cells held together by these vines, which led him to question if this was really still space or.. possibly somewhere else. Maybe another realm? Outside space-time even.
Selthira was nowhere to be seen and it seemed like his nonexistent body here was moving on its own, passing by several bubbles. Even when looking down his feet and trying to feel his body nothing happened. He still was somewhat anxious because of the unknown, especially after realising his physical body seemed entirely gone. But it surprisingly wasn't as strong as when he first closed his eyes. And immediately, Peter's eyes looked around, taking in everything, observing the empty white bubbles that seemed useless, until he passed them. When he passed the first few bubbles and focused his eyes on each of them, he saw different versions and scenes of the people he knew like the Avengers, fighting whoever, with them even looking or acting different from what he used to know. He even got to saw this person again.
Mr. Stark. Next to him was the Black Widow and in front of him was Captain America. Peter didn't recognise the scene going on there. He still wished Tony still was here too in their own universe, helping him through tough times in his own, unique way that most wouldn't call really helping with Tony and Peter. But even Tony Stark had a heart. Peter still wished he didn't had to sacrifice himself even if it was for the good--for the universe. Peter wished he could have done the snap, considering everyone he was close to and had left forgot him anyway, making his death a silent one if he were to ever pass. He didn't deserve to have survived, with how much he had to sacrifice, people closest to him dying, even because of his own stupid decisions.
In the next bubble after he was forcefully parted from the first, he got to get a look in, Peter could have sworn he even heard Thanos voice echoing in the bubble—something that put him at unease and made his heart rate spike despite the lack of body. The moving images there were blurry and probably for the good. But luckily he passed that bubble quickly. He didn't wanted to remember these memories, even if that time included some few good memories he could after everything still cherish.
After what felt like eternity, he was abruptly halted around few bubbles that all just like the previous ones looked the same apart for the images he saw in each, showing different versions of even himself, mostly as Spider-Man, while some of the bubbles remained empty white for unknown reasons, even when trying to look into them--something he didn't really understand but didn't had time to question as he looked at the bubble in front of him next. There, in front of him it was; Uncle Ben and him as just.. Peter Parker. No Spider-Man suit or anything.
He seemed happy there. Of course his own life wasn't as bad ever since he figured it out on how to deal with everything horrible that has happened to him. He himself fully figured out the responsibility of being the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man--something that took him at first some time to balance along with his other half of life as Peter Parker, a plain average smart guy. He had met other, interesting figures back while the universe was being slaughtered by the Elder back then. Like that alien named Mantis, who seemed even more childlike than Peter himself--even through times too. It had been refreshing to see that he wasn't alone, trying to uphold a positive spirit even if her spirit seemed less forced and actually more like she was just genuinely oblivious to everything around her. But that bug honestly seemed to have secrets or feelings she simply chose not to express or spill. He could understand that. Then he got to meet the whole of the Guardians of the Galaxy. A group of 'misfits' he really respected and even looked up to a little, even if he was happy enough to just simply live on Earth and keep going as Peter Parker and Spider-Man himself.
Memories as such probably made it able for him to carry on through the hardships until now--the present. Still, another deeper part of him always and now wondered upon seeing other him and Uncle Ben hugging if maybe he should have never picked up the mask, especially when he already had been close to quitting being Spider-Man completely and nearly dropped the mask forever for good a few times before. He didn't knew if this Peter Parker in front of him was Spider-Man too. Probably was, but then again he would maybe be glad for the Peter in front of him if he was just.. Peter Parker. The average smart guy with the glasses.
He wasn't sure when he fell so deep into thought, maybe it was these weird echoing whispers in his head that he somehow hadn't noticed before, despite his senses. Maybe they secretly awoke everything within him again--stuff he buried in the deepest holes and were now dug back up. Maybe it was just purely him too. But just when he was about to continue mourning over this scene that now appeared frozen to his oblivious mind, as if in the moment for eternity, he saw both Uncle Ben and the Peter Parker in that bubble suddenly lift their heads, as if something caught their attention before their heads snapped to what looked like.. him? It felt like they just saw through the invisible wall seperating these two and Peter himself. But.. they seemed at first like they noticed someone but seemed slightly confused at first, the other Peter's head tilting slightly to the side. Peter outside the bubble wasn’t sure what to do, what was happening or if this was even supposed to happen in the first place. Definitely not he figured, but he still couldn’t say anything or move on his own, scared to mess this up, even with how unsettling this situation was starting to become, the longer he tried figuring them out with their weird behaviour.
Now they seemed to stare right through the bubble, now with a more confident glare as if they both now were certain someone were watching them and most likely saw exactly who with how they directly looked into Peter's eyes. Perhaps it seemed he was right that something was wrong and that this wasn't supposed to happen, based purely on the way their stares never faltered, as they didn’t even seemed to blink, like everything in that bubble froze now, echoing voices of the bubble falling silent. Even those in his head that Selthira had explained now seemed to still abruptly, leaving now a deafeaning, uneasy silence that made him wish he could just close his eyes and escape this. Fortunately, as if Peter's silent call was answered, his vision went abruptly black again, not even leaving him the choice of watching them further. He wasn’t sure if this was part of the service she provided and if this perhaps was already over. Maybe this was one of those risks she vaguely mentioned once or twice.
But when his “eyes opened” again after falling briefly shut, he was back where he originally came from, sitting in the chair, heart throbbing in his head, he felt a little relieved at first. But.. when he looked ahead of himself, he saw it—her face! And just like his reaction, she seemed even more bewildered and shocked at whatever happened, even more than he was he would argue, she was already risen from her chair and one hand against where her own heart is. And it’s as if she realised her face was exposed to the guy—Peter, she now slowly looked over to him, clearly fazed by whatever happened--fazed enough to not care momentarily that he saw her face entirely now.
And that couldn’t mean something good—if an actual psychic was shocked by something--especially one as stoic as her. So, instead of deciding to comment about her face that.. honestly looked like it needed days--even months of sleep for the eye bags under her eyes to go away, he instead decided to ask what struck his curiosity and concern the most: “Miss, what just happened?”
“This.. bubble. No, this space of the timelines; What are they?” And he couldn’t understand what she meant, so instead tried getting her to talk her shock out. “Miss, are you okay? You look.. kinda pale.” He asked again.
And finally, she seemed to gather herself, her dark eyes now only hidden beneath the veil, making them look emptier than they already seem.. especially when noting that her eyes seem to carry no spark like they usually would. She took a deep breath, quickly taking a seat again and planting her hovering hands over the pocket-sized galaxy still calmly swirling inside the small space of the sphere, empty eyes without any reflection from the soft glow of the sphere glaring over to Peter, making him unsure if her eyes creeped him more out or on whatever happened. “Those two.. They weren’t you or Uncle Ben.” And then, she added, eyes closed. “They saw you.”
...