The sky over New York was heavy with dark clouds, an ominous gray blanket that seemed to press down on the city. Rain drizzled steadily, soaking the sidewalks and adding to the somber atmosphere. The streets surrounding the modest chapel were eerily quiet, as if the city itself mourned alongside its heroes.

Inside, the chapel was filled with people, yet it felt emptier than it should have. Rows of chairs were occupied by familiar faces, some in full costume, others dressed in black suits and dresses. They sat in silence, heads bowed, grief weighing heavy in the air. At the front of the room, two caskets rested side by side, adorned with wreaths of flowers—one white, one a fiery orange-red.

Gwenpool stood near the back of the room, her usual pink and white suit replaced with a simple black dress, though her signature goggles still hung loosely around her neck. She shifted uncomfortably, her hands clutching a damp program that was already creased from being folded and unfolded a dozen times. For once, her usual chaotic energy was gone. She looked... hollow, her eyes puffy and red.

Near the front, Nadia Van Dyne sat between Janet Van Dyne and Hank Pym. She looked small, her head bowed low as she stared at her lap, where her hands fidgeted with the edges of a tissue. Nadia had always been a beacon of energy and optimism, but today, that spark was gone. Her shoulders trembled slightly, though she tried to hide it. Every so often, her eyes flickered toward the caskets, her lips moving as if whispering something only she could hear.

The room was packed with heroes from all corners of the Marvel Universe. Spider-Man leaned against a far wall, his mask off, his face solemn. Carol Danvers sat near the center, her arms crossed tightly, her usual confidence dimmed. Even Doctor Strange had made an appearance, his cape hanging still behind him, his expression unreadable but somber. The quiet murmur of rain on the windows was the only sound as everyone awaited the eulogy.

Finally, the minister stepped forward, clearing his throat gently. He looked out at the room, his eyes scanning the faces of Earth's mightiest heroes, those who had saved the world countless times but now looked utterly powerless in the face of this loss.

"We are gathered here today to honor two remarkable lives, lives cut far too short," he began, his voice gentle yet firm. "Y/N and Max were heroes in every sense of the word. They did not seek fame or glory. They sought to protect, to help, to be a light in the darkness for those who needed it most."

Gwenpool shifted again, biting her lip to keep herself together. She glanced toward the caskets, her hands trembling as she clutched the program tighter. The memories of Y/N flashed in her mind—his quiet strength, his way of listening without judgment, the way he always seemed to understand her chaotic nature without question. She felt her chest tighten, her breath catching as she fought back tears.

Nadia, meanwhile, felt as though she were suffocating under the weight of her grief. Max's shy smile, the way he blushed every time she teased him, his hesitant but heartfelt words when he finally told her how he felt—they all played over and over in her mind. She had lost so much before, but this... this was different. This was unbearable. She hadn't just lost a friend. She had lost someone who truly understood her, someone who made her feel grounded in a world that often felt too fast and too chaotic.

The minister continued, but his words began to blur for those who had known Y/N and Max personally. Instead, the memories came flooding in—small moments, quiet laughs, shared victories, and unspoken feelings. Gwen and Nadia, both from different corners of the superhero world, found their grief intertwined in this shared loss.

Finally, the minister paused, and with a deep breath, he said the words that made the loss painfully, heartbreakingly real.
"We say goodbye today to Y/N and Max, two young heroes whose bravery, kindness, and sacrifices will never be forgotten."

The room seemed to hold its breath, the rain outside growing heavier. Gwenpool closed her eyes, her head dipping low as her tears finally spilled over. Nadia pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob as Janet placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. The caskets remained at the front, silent and still, a final reminder of the lives that had been lost too soon.

And in that moment, the world felt a little colder, a little darker, without them.