American comics: Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who worry about their fathers!.

Chapter 1119 The Assembly of the Patrick Alliance, Eve and Gwen

Meanwhile, in the world of Hogwarts.

The London night sky was shrouded in a layer of cold, damp fog.

For most Londoners, it was just an ordinary night.

But for Harry and Hermione, who were riding on flying broomsticks and skimming low over the river at an astonishing speed, the day was not a pleasant experience.

"Left, Harry, left!"

Hermione Granger shouted at Harry.

Harry Potter leaned over the firebolt and pushed the broom to its maximum speed.

"Whizzing!"

Before he knew it, Harry's school robes had been smeared by several curses, leaving charred marks.

Even without turning around, he could feel the relentless killing intent stalking him like a leech.

At least three Death Eaters, riding old but still powerful broomsticks, were like sharks that had smelled blood, relentlessly chasing after them.

Avada Kedavra and the Shadowless Blade occasionally brushed past the two, striking the river surface and creating turbid water columns.

Harry and Hermione have just experienced a skirmish in a Muggle subway station.

The two barely managed to escape thanks to Hermione's quick thinking and cover.

But the price was that Hermione's left arm was scratched by a purple spell, and dark red blood was seeping out continuously.

"Hang in there, Hermione, we're almost there!"

Harry shouted at Hermione, his eyes fixed on the Tower Bridge, whose magnificent outline was gradually emerging in the night.

He remembered Professor Lupin vaguely mentioning that one of the safe houses was in an abandoned warehouse on the south bank of the bridge, a recently opened stronghold of the Patrick Society, which might be a temporary escape from pursuers.

Just as the two rushed toward the lower pedestrian walkway of the tower bridge, preparing to use the bridge piers and cable structure to avoid it.

A sudden change occurred!

Hermione suddenly felt an unbearable burning sensation in her chest.

This pain is not the excruciating pain of being struck by a spell, but rather a pain originating from within the body.

Almost at the same instant, the small cloth bag she always carried at her waist tore open on its own.

A soft golden light shone through the torn bag, and then a seemingly ordinary grain of sand slowly rose up, hovering between her and Harry, just inches from her nose.

The sand grains emitted a warm glow that made her feel comfortable.

What shocked them even more was that a clear, uplifting bell, as if it could cleanse their souls, suddenly rang in their minds.

"clang--!!!"

The sound of the bell seemed to pierce through the wind howling of the broom and the frenzied shouts of the Death Eaters, instantly calming all their panic and fear, and bringing them peace and a sense of power.

"This is this?!"

Harry stared in horror at the floating, glowing sand grains, nearly losing control of the fire bolt's trajectory.

Hermione was also stunned for a moment, but she quickly recognized the thing.

"Yes, it was Mr. Peter, it was the grain of sand that Mr. Peter gave me."

Hermione said excitedly.

The pursuing Death Eaters also witnessed this bizarre scene.

The golden light emanating from the sand instinctively filled the Death Eaters with disgust and fear.

Taking a deep breath to calm her excited heart, Hermione did not hesitate at all. She stretched out her uninjured right hand and tightly grasped the scorching sand in her palm.

The moment she gripped the grains of sand, a flood of information rushed into her consciousness.

A strong thought entered her mind.

A blurry image of a broken city, filled with metal and flames, flashed into her mind.

She sensed in the depths of her being that this grain of sand was calling and guiding her to meet it.

"Harry!"

Hermione exclaimed excitedly, her eyes sparkling with excitement, "It's Mr. Peter! He's calling us! He needs our help! Right here in Mr. Peter's world!"

Harry looked at the excited look in Hermione's eyes, then glanced back at the Death Eaters who were speeding up their pursuit again.

“But we have to shake off these pursuers. You go and contact Pansy and Luna from Patrick’s army, as well as Professor Lupin. I’ll go and stop them.”

As Harry spoke, he abruptly turned the fire bolt around.

Instead of rushing to the hiding place under the tower bridge, he charged towards the higher, more open sky, unleashing a series of Obstacle and Stun spells behind him in an attempt to lure the enemy into the air.

at the same time.

Outside Ms. Maxim's office at Beauxbatons School of Magic, France.

Fleur Delacour has just finished a conversation with Ms. Maxim about her exam preparations.

She still possessed the unique charm bestowed upon her by her Veela bloodline, with her long, silvery-white hair cascading down her back like a waterfall.

But now, a hint of worry was visible on her delicate face.

The war against Voldemort has now reached a critical stage. Voldemort and the Death Eaters are growing stronger, but Raven and Loki are nowhere to be found.

Moreover, it has been a long time since we last saw Mr. Patrick.

If it were Mr. Patrick, he could certainly stop Voldemort.

Strolling through the courtyard decorated with exquisite ice sculptures and a magical fountain, Hibiscus tried to clear her head with the cold air.

She took a deep breath and took out a small, unicorn-hair pouch from her inner pocket.

The bag contained the sand that Peter had given him.

This grain of sand always made her feel at ease, as if a distant, powerful friend was protecting her.

Just as her fingertips were gently caressing the small bag.

A burning sensation came instantly.

Furong gasped in surprise and instinctively let go of her hand.

To her astonishment, the small bag opened on its own before her eyes, and golden grains of sand floated out, radiating the same golden halo that Harry and Hermione had seen.

At the same time, the clear sound of bells rang in her mind.

"clang--!!!"

Upon hearing the bell, Hibiscus Blue eyes widened instantly, filled with shock.

"Mr. Patrick...?"

She instinctively called out Peter's name.

Feeling the warmth emanating from the sand before her, Furong immediately realized...

It was Mr. Peter calling her.

Just as he said when he left, he would need her strength when a real crisis came.

Without the slightest hesitation, Furong decisively reached out and tightly grasped the luminous sand grains in her palm.

She felt that call that transcended dimensions, and she felt the images of that war-torn world.

The world of the invincible young hero.

The hustle and bustle of the city faded into a blurry background noise in Atomic Girl Eve's ears.

She hovered a few feet above the ground, looking down at the sky.

As a member of the Earth Defense Force, Eve is already used to switching between ordinary daily life and sudden crises.

But tonight's "crisis" is clearly not in the usual category.

What she now needs to deal with is like a living, wriggling, multiplying pink gel-like substance.

This substance gushed out of the sewer, initially just a small puddle, but in an instant it swallowed a car and several fire hydrants on the roadside, its volume swelling to the height of a three-story building.

It has no fixed shape; its surface constantly bulges and sinks, then quickly melts back to its original state.

The monster emitted a cloyingly sweet odor.

What's more troublesome is that it exhibits extremely high resistance to physical attacks and conventional energy impacts; police bullets fired into it are like stones sinking into the sea, unable to even cause a ripple.

Eve gazed at the other person as she slowly descended.

The monster seemed to sense her threat, and the next second, a huge tentacle made of pink gel suddenly lashed out, whistling through the air, and slammed into her location.

Eve didn't take the attack head-on; instead, she gently raised her right hand, palm facing the incoming tentacle.

Just as the tentacle was about to touch her, the structure at the front end seemed to be disintegrated at the molecular level by an invisible force. The pink substance that made it up quickly collapsed and dissipated, returning to the most basic particle state and disappearing into the air.

The monster let out a piercing screech, clearly enraged.

More tentacles wrapped around Eve from all directions, while her gelatinous body surface began to secrete a highly corrosive mucus, which rained down on her.

Eve frowned slightly.

It looks like today is going to be another turbulent day. Maybe I should notify Mark or the defense team.

While complaining, Eve dodged and neutralized the attacks.

At the same time, using her unique atomic perception, she scanned the monster's overall structure, searching for its relatively stable energy core. Found it!
Deep within the monster's churning body, near the bottom, lies an energy convergence point that flickers with an unstable pink light.

That should be its "heart".

She then clasped her hands together in front of her chest, and powerful atomic energy began to gather in her palms, forming a highly compressed energy ball.

The space around the energy sphere began to distort slightly.

She wanted to completely destroy the existence of this monster in one fell swoop.

"boom!"

As the energy ball was released, a deafening explosion echoed through the neighborhood.

Eve breathed a sigh of relief after constructing a shield using her atomic abilities to withstand the monster's exploding tissue.

It seems you did well today.

Eve clapped her hands and nodded in satisfaction.

Suddenly, the next second, a completely unexpected and strange feeling, originating from within herself, came over her.

A burning sensation emanated from the inner pocket of her close-fitting combat suit.

Eve looked down at her chest in disbelief.

The special container holding the "grain of sand" given to her by Peter Padrick was emitting a blinding light.

"This is impossible...!"

Eve was stunned.

At the same time, a clear and melodious chime, as if it could penetrate the soul, rang out in the deepest part of her consciousness.

"clang--!!!"

The sound of the bell had a penetrating and soothing quality, calming her slightly rapid breathing caused by the battle.

"Mr. Peter Patrick?"

Peter's face flashed through Eve's mind in an instant.

That mysterious man from another universe, possessing unimaginable power, was also the father of many Gryffindor heroes.

Peter gave her this grain of sand before he left, and she thought it was just a romantic (or mysterious) farewell gift, never imagining that it would actually be activated in this way.

Eve calmed herself down and landed from the air, her heels lightly touching the ashes-covered ground.

She didn't notice the gasps and applause of the nearby survivors, nor did she deal with the police who were on their way.

Her entire attention was focused on that single grain of sand.

The grains of sand seemed to be telling her that he needed help, that he needed help.

Eve bit her lip, extended her fingers, which glowed with a faint golden energy, and gently grasped the hot grains of sand, holding them tightly in her palm.

“Alright, Mr. Patrick.”

She murmured to herself, as if responding to a call that transcends the universe, "I'm coming."

Earth-65.

The hustle and bustle of New York City was as familiar to Gwen as breathing.

The wind howled between the tall buildings, blowing the white eye patch on her spider costume headgear.

She expertly swung her wrist forward, anticipating that familiar pulling sensation that would carry her across the city canyon—

But nothing happened.

Only a heartbreaking, rusty spring-like "click" came from inside the web shooter.

"No way... not again?"

Gwen sighed and began to fall due to gravity.

But she reacted quickly, using her waist and abdomen to adjust her posture in mid-air, stepping on the top of an ornate old-fashioned street lamp with her toes, squatting slightly to cushion the impact and stabilize her body.

The cold night wind sent a shiver down her spine, but what bothered her even more was the damn equipment on her wrist.

Standing atop the lamppost, Gwen sullenly examined the web-shooter on her right hand.

"Why? Why today of all days?"

She complained to the air, her voice muffled inside the hood, "This is the third time this week. Ms. Van Dine never mentioned in the instructions that this thing needs to be unclogged regularly, like cleaning a sewer."

While complaining, Gwen carefully poked at the nozzle of the launcher with her fingertips, trying to get out the unknown slime blocking it, or the congealed cheese from some unfortunate pizzeria.

"It's only been a month, just one month since it wasn't thoroughly cleaned..."

Gwen looked down in frustration and sighed. It seemed she wouldn't be able to swing gracefully tonight.

She then took a deep breath, spotted a double-decker bus driving below, and jumped off.

With a "thud," she landed lightly on the roof of the bus like a real spider, making a dull "thud."

Without stopping, she slid down the edge of the roof, her body almost parallel to the ground. Using only the suction of her feet, she deftly clung to the smooth metal shell of the bus, moving forward with it.

The wind blew her uniform, outlining her agile figure.

"Om~!"

The next second, Gwen's phone rang at an inopportune moment.

"Damn..."

Gwen cursed under her breath, one hand gripping the car body tightly, the other struggling to pull her phone from the side pocket of her backpack. She pressed the answer button, trying to make her voice sound normal, "Hi, this is Gwen."

On the other end of the phone, her father's steady voice came through: "Gwen, this is your father."

"Yes, I know it's you, Dad."

Gwen tried to keep her tone light, her gaze sweeping over the rapidly receding street scenes on either side. "Is there something you need?"

"Today is your first day working part-time at the new gallery, and you look like you're going to be late."

Sheriff George paused, and in the background noise, he could hear the sound of him flipping through documents. "Wait, I heard a siren? And the sound of wind? Where are you now? You're not going to do something dangerous again, are you?"

Gwen immediately tensed up. "Oh! Yes, maybe... no, I mean it was definitely a steam whistle."

She quickly tried to cover up her mistake, her speech unconsciously quickening, "I'm fine, Dad, there's no danger at all, it's just... it's just that the bus is a bit noisy."

She tried to change the subject, "There's no danger here, except that next month's rent is due soon, everything is perfect..."

Sheriff George on the other end of the phone seemed to want to say something more, but the next moment, Gwen felt a burning sensation in her chest.

Gwen gasped instantly, almost letting go of her hand that was clinging to the car wall.

"Gwen? What's wrong?"

Over the phone, Sheriff George keenly noticed his daughter's unnatural gasps.

Gwen did not answer immediately.

Her entire attention was drawn to the amulet on her chest.

Inside the amulet was the grain of sand that Mr. Peter had given her when he said goodbye.

A soft golden light pierced through the thin fabric of her spider costume, spreading across her chest.

Immediately afterwards, a clear and melodious chime resonated deep within her mind.

"clang--!!!"

The voice carried a sense of urgency, as if it were a call from another time and space.

"Gwen? What's going on your end?"

Sheriff George's voice, tinged with obvious anxiety, came through the receiver.

Gwen snapped back to reality.

She looked at the phone still connected to her call, felt the continuous heat in her chest, and heard the chiming of bells echoing in her mind.

On one side are the entanglements of the real world—a worried father, a job that's about to be delayed, and a precarious rent payment; on the other side is a life-or-death cry for help from another universe.

There are almost no extra trade-offs.

"father!"

Gwen said to her father, "My signal is suddenly a bit weak. I have something urgent to take care of right away. I'll call you back later!"

Before Sheriff George could respond, she immediately hung up the phone and even pressed the power button.

She couldn't risk letting her father hear or guess anything that might happen next, anything beyond his comprehension.

Gwen stuffed her phone back into her backpack, then quickly reached her free hand inside her uniform.

My fingertips touched a hot, slightly vibrating object.

She took it out and held it in her palm.

The grains of sand within the amulet seemed to be infused with life, radiating a warm and constant golden glow.

The chiming in my mind became clearer and more rapid.

Gwen stood on the side of the speeding bus, the city lights and shadows flashing rapidly across her white uniform.

She looked down at the grains of sand in her palm and thought of Peter, and of the memories of fighting Steppenwolf alongside the "Fathers of Sorrow".

(End of this chapter)