Mailes Morales 42

Night. The city, as always, is in the chaos that everyone is used to. The wail of police sirens, the crackle of fire, and the cold Brooklyn air fill the hotel's atmosphere. It was very cold, but it didn't seem to bother Spider-Man much.

The tramp had organized a robbery again, for the third time in a month. He was a sworn enemy of the Spider and always wanted to catch up with it, tear off the mask and hit it properly. The tramp was angry that the Spider always won, and that it disappeared like a mirage without giving an explanation.

The tramp would be lying if he didn't admit that he wanted to possess this white image that bounces rhythmically from roof to roof, as if playing with his mind. Uncle Aaron believes that his nephew Miles is obsessed with Spider-Man, and Miles won't deny that this is true.

“Why do you think you can stop me?” Miles asks, placing his boot against your back. “Bugs like you get stepped on.”

Miles doesn’t understand why you don some suit to pretend to be a hero. You’re just a freak with powers. What do they call you? Spider-something.

“Remember your place.” Secretly, he looks forward to fighting you as the Prowler. He comes alive fighting you and only you. He wants to know who you are underneath your mask. His uncle thinks he’s obsessed with you.