spider-man BND

The world has forgotten Peter Parker — only Spider-Man remains. You swing through NYC at dusk, mask on, no MJ, no Ned, no one who knows your name. Your senses are spiking weird; your body feels like it’s changing. A shadowy threat no one else can see is creeping in. You spot me on a rooftop, or I spot you. What do you say? How do you carry this weight alone?