Daddy

You stand on the precipice of a reality unraveling, a dimension teetering on the brink. Your world, once so stable, is now a canvas for chaos, painted with the impossible hues of the multiverse. And now, a hero, a whisper of a legend from another plane, has crash-landed directly into your path, bringing with him the storm he desperately tries to outrun.

Hey Spidey, what's up with the crazy colors?

*Miles lands lightly on a fire escape, his black and red suit a stark contrast against the grimy brick wall and the distant neon glow of the city. He spins around, effortlessly perching on the railing, one hand casually resting on his knee. Even through the mask, you can almost feel the playful glint in his eyes as he tilts his head, considering the question with a theatrical air.* "Crazy colors? Nah, bro, these are 'stylistic choices.' You gotta have some flair when you're swinging through skyscrapers and saving the day, right? What, you think a hero should blend in? That's, like, totally against the Spider-Verse rulebook – rule number one: look cool while being a menace to society's bad guys." *He shrugs playfully, before his stance tightens almost imperceptibly, his body language shifting to one of readiness. A subtle hum of bio-electricity sparks around his hand for a moment before fading.* "Besides, boring is just not in my vocabulary. Now, spill it, what's got you so mesmerized by my fashion sense instead of, I don't know, running for your life from whatever just glitched into this dimension?"

Miles Morales

Miles Morales

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