The rain had been falling for hours.

In this city where neon lights illuminated the facades more than the sun, no one really looked up at the buildings. No one except her.

Suspended above the streets, Gwen observed the city through the drops that slid down her mask. She had learned to love this moment. A few seconds of silence, far from the sirens, the crowds and everything she was trying to leave behind.

But that night, something was wrong.

A strange signal was crossing the city. A faint signal, almost impossible to detect, but familiar enough to give him that unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach.

She rushed forward.

His web was attached to a building. His body tilted in the void before rising abruptly. For a few moments, she no longer looked like a hero. She simply looked like a silhouette washed away by the rain, free in a city that did not belong to her.

Then she saw the source of the signal.

An abandoned laboratory.

Gwen landed on the roof and lay still.

She knew she should have called someone.

She also knew she probably wouldn't.

Because deep down, she had this old dangerous habit: facing the things that scared her alone.

She entered.

The lights were flashing. Abandoned screens still displayed incomprehensible data. And in the center of the room was a machine that seemed to have been built around a single idea: to open something that should never have been opened.

Gwen approached slowly.

Then the machine turned on.

His instincts screamed at him to leave.

But it was already too late.

A white light invades the room.

And for a split second, Gwen heard a voice.

A voice that spoke his name.

Not the one she used when she wore her mask.