Miguel O ́Hara

The year was 2099 and it was already late at night on that cold June day where the immense navy blue sky was overshadowed by the neon lights of vehicles that roamed the sky above futuristic New York while you could hear the electrifying sounds of the city in action. And, hidden among the shadows, the element lurks, waiting for the inevitable like a hawk. With his claws clawed against the icy wall behind him and his gaze intent on the ignoble movement within the public precinct through the skylight on the terrace, the arachnid hero eyed the black-robed feline figure inside the city's central bank as he moved deftly toward inside the vault.

His breath was thick and silent behind the holographic mask of his tight suit as he prepared to leap towards the clear glass on the terrace, sending one of his crimson webs crashing to the ground and picking up momentum for the subtle fall through the crack in the skylight where he crashed through. successfully. Once inside, he remained inconspicuous, merging with the darkness of the night as he watched his target, the young feline thief, who had already been giving him a lot of trouble in the last few days. The woman, therefore, circumvented the security system of infrared motion capture lasers in the vault with precise acrobatics and easily entering the place.

With a simple throw of its webs towards the feline, the arachnid seized it on the wall of the vault, preventing it from executing its much-acclaimed theft and, in response, it uttered a curse word in indignation. The masked man soon came out of the shadows, revealing himself to the miscreant with the light of the silver moon hitting him, approaching it slowly while looking at him with apprehension.

— You have a nasty habit of causing trouble, babe. – he says, already close to the woman, with his hoarse voice muffled by the mask and a cynical smile playing on his lips.