Harry's head hit the ground again. Pavement this time. His ribs ached and the dagger nearly burned through his palm. He groaned and sat up, blinking through the fog.
Naruto spat dirt beside him. "This dagger is the WORST. I swear if it drags us one more time—"
"Newsflash," Spider-Man muttered, mask-eyes squinting, "it already did."
The street stretched long and cracked, neon glowing faint through mist. No people. No sound but the hiss of wind through broken signs.
Flash zipped ahead, came back in a blink, jaw tight. "Dead zone. Nobody here."
Kakashi stayed silent, one hand on a kunai. His single eye scanned everything, calm but sharp.
Harry pushed himself up, stomach twisted. His scar ticked faint like a clock. The dagger hummed in his hand. He hated it.
Then the fog shifted.
Figures stepped out. Three of them. Their silhouettes cut sharp through the light, moving like they belonged here.
The first was tall, black coat dragging, shadows curling faint at his feet. His eyes glowed, dim but alive, like embers. The second had white hair, red cloak thrown back careless but steady, face calm like he was always planning something. The third wore plain clothes, but his gaze was heavy, watchful.
They stopped a few paces away.
Nobody spoke. The air tightened.
Finally Naruto tilted his head. "Wait… do I know you guys?"
The white-haired one blinked, then gave a faint smile. "No. First time."
"Yeah, but—" Naruto scratched his cheek, frowning. "Feels like… I dunno. Like we've fought together before or something."
Harry muttered, "Fantastic. Déjà vu in a broken city. Just what I needed."
The man in the black coat—Jinwoo—stared at Harry, then at the dagger. His voice was quiet. "That doesn't belong here."
Harry snapped, "You think I don't know that? You want it, you can take it—except I can't let go." He held up his hand, the silver glow crawling faint over his wrist.
Spider-Man raised his hands like a shield. "Okay, okay, let's not play hot potato with the demon knife, alright?"
The plain-clothed one, Dokja, finally spoke. His voice was steady, calm in a way that almost made Harry's skin crawl. "It's the fracture key. That's why we're here. That's why we're… connected."
Flash frowned. "Connected how?"
Dokja's gaze flicked to each of them, one by one. "We've never met. But it feels like we have. Doesn't it?"
Silence.
Harry didn't want to admit it, but his stomach twisted. He looked at Jinwoo, at Cale, at Dokja. They were strangers. He knew that. But something about them felt too… close. Like old shadows half remembered.
Naruto grinned awkwardly, scratching his head. "I mean… yeah. Kinda. Weird, huh?"
Jinwoo's voice was low. "I don't trust easily. But for some reason, I don't see you as enemies."
Harry swallowed. "Same."
Spider-Man muttered, "This is getting freaky. Like fate is playing connect-the-dots and forgot to ask us first."
Kakashi finally spoke, calm but sharp. "Be careful. Familiarity without memory is dangerous."
The dagger pulsed again, stronger. The whispers rose in Harry's skull. He pressed his teeth together, trying to block them out.
Dokja's eyes moved to him. "It's speaking to you, isn't it?"
Harry's breath hitched. "You hear it too?"
"No," Dokja said softly. "But I can tell."
The whispers got louder, twisting into half-words. Not clear, but sharp enough to make Harry wince. His scar burned in time with them.
Naruto stepped closer, voice too loud. "Hey, are you okay?"
Harry flinched. The dagger flared brighter. The air cracked faint around them, silver lines splitting the mist.
Jinwoo's eyes glowed sharper. "It's opening again."
Spider-Man threw his hands up. "Already? We just got here!"
The ground shook under their feet. The fog rippled like water.
Harry gasped, gripping his head with his free hand. "I can't stop it!"
Cale's calm voice cut through the chaos. "Don't fight it. Fighting makes it worse."
Flash grabbed Harry's arm, steady. "We'll hold together. Wherever it throws us, we don't split up."
Naruto nodded, grin sharp even in panic. "Yeah! Teamwork, right? Even if we just met!"
Jinwoo's shadows flickered behind him, like wings ready to spread. "First time or not… we fight together."
Harry's chest twisted. First time. First meeting. But it felt like he'd stood with them before, in a hundred broken worlds.
The dagger screamed light. The whispers roared into one word.
"Open."
The street tore apart.
Harry screamed as the world shattered again—this time with strangers who didn't feel like strangers standing right beside him.