The Web led them into a forest stitched from black lace.
Trees rose like crooked chandeliers, their branches dripping with silver cobwebs instead of leaves. Beneath Spidey's feet, the ground pulsed not with life, but with hunger.
> "We're getting close," Nyxi said, her voice tight.
> "To what?"
> "The Hollow Feast. The place where sorrow feeds."
Spidey raised an eyebrow.
> "Feeds on what?"
> "Regret. Desperation. Hope. Anything still warm in your heart."
A distant chime rang elegant, hollow, like a dinner bell made of bone.
---
They entered a clearing.
A massive banquet table stretched endlessly across the grove, lit by floating lanterns shaped like glowing spider eggs. Velvet chairs lined either side, each one already filled by guests.
But none were alive.
Waxen skin. Frozen smiles. Beautiful clothes stitched over skeletons. Forks raised in mid-air, unmoving. Glasses full, never sipped. A perfect scene of celebration, frozen in eternal anticipation.
At the head of the table sat Her.
The Feaster Queen.
Tall and poised, with a face carved from porcelain and eyes made of polished obsidian. Her dress flowed like liquid night, and from her crown bloomed roses with teeth.
> "Welcome, little Web-Walker," she said sweetly, lifting her wine glass filled with black ink. "We've saved a seat for you."
---
Spidey hesitated.
> "Why me?"
> "Because you still hunger. For answers. For healing. For things you pretend not to need."
> "And what if I don't sit?"
> "Then the feast begins without you. And you'll still feel the ache… forever."
Nyxi hissed softly beside her.
> "Don't eat anything. Not even a crumb."
> "Why?"
> "Because the feast isn't food. It's feeling. The moment you taste it, you'll lose the memory tied to it. Forever."
---
The Queen gestured.
A golden plate appeared before Spidey, perfectly clean.
Then, one by one, the food appeared — conjured from smoke and silk:
🕯 A warm drink made of the memory of being held on a rainy night.
🕯 A fruit shaped like the feeling of being seen and understood.
🕯 A dessert spun from the night she believed she was truly, deeply loved.
Spidey's breath caught.
> "I remember these," she whispered. "I… miss them."
The Queen leaned forward.
> "Then have them. Taste them again. Don't you deserve comfort after everything you've given?"
Spidey's fingers hovered over the fork.
Nyxi's voice was strained.
> "Spidey. Listen to me. These aren't gifts. They're extractions. You eat, and they're gone. And when the last course is served, there's nothing left of you but a smile and a place at the table."
> "Is that what happened to them?" Spidey asked, gesturing at the other guests.
> "They didn't leave," Nyxi said. "They lingered. One bite at a time."
---
Spidey looked up at the Queen.
> "You feast on what people cherish."
> "No," said the Queen with a wicked smile. "I offer it. It's they who give it willingly."
> "But it's a lie."
> "Isn't comfort always a little bit of a lie?"
The Queen's voice lowered to a whisper.
> "Aren't you tired, Weaver?"
Spidey stood up slowly.
> "I am."
> "Then eat."
> "But tired doesn't mean I give up."
> "No," the Queen murmured, tilting her head. "But it makes you want to."
---
Spidey looked at the plate again.
The memories shimmered tempting, warm, safe.
She reached out.
And gently… pushed it away.
> "I'd rather ache for them than forget they ever existed."
The Queen's smile cracked.
The lights flickered.
> "You deny me," she growled. "You walk away hungry?"
> "No," Spidey said quietly, stepping back. "I walk away whole."
---
The feast roared the guests shrieked and dissolved into dust.
The table split down the middle, collapsing into a pit of writhing, whispering shadows.
And from the ruin, a single thread floated up shimmering, heavy, glowing with Spidey's choice.
She caught it.
---
> "What did I lose?" Spidey asked softly.
Nyxi whispered,
> "You gave up the taste of comfort. The kind that came without effort. The easy kind."
> "Then I'll make my own comfort now," Spidey said. "Even if it's harder."
> "That," Nyxi said with pride, "is strength."
---
Above them, the Web shimmered and something ancient sang.
A new path unfurled before them this one not made of silk or roots or mirrors.
It was made of choices.
And somewhere ahead, a secret waited.
One Nyxi had never spoken aloud.
Spidey looked to her friend, eyes burning.
> "You're hiding something, aren't you?"
Nyxi didn't answer.
Not yet.
---
TO BE CONTINUED…
🕸️🕷️