"Oh my God! Thank goodness you're okay, Ben."
Aunt May rushed over after hearing the news and immediately embraced Uncle Ben on the platform of the New York Museum of Natural History. Uncle Ben had just gone through a near-death experience on the subway but appeared unharmed.
"Are you hurt, Ben?" Aunt May anxiously inspected him. The recent, terrifying accident was still fresh in her mind.
"I'm fine, just a few scratches," Uncle Ben reassured her with a weary smile.
"I got your text, and I thought I had lost you, Ben. You really scared me."
"I'm so sorry, May." Uncle Ben pulled out his phone with a cracked screen. "My phone broke, so I could only text you. I couldn't make any calls."
He glanced over at the damaged subway train and sighed. "If it hadn't been for that mysterious hero, I might not have made it through the accident. He saved me and everyone else on that subway."
Taking off his glasses, Uncle Ben looked at the gathering passengers and police officers, his thoughts trailing off into silence.
Meanwhile, Gwen stood outside the platform, watching the crowd grow larger. She exhaled softly and turned to leave. She had left earlier because she felt nauseous, and when she returned, Spider-Man was already gone. Though she felt a bit disappointed, she quickly pushed it aside, thinking there might be another chance to meet him.
Just as she was about to go, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Peter standing behind her.
"Peter?!" Gwen exclaimed, surprised. "Where did you disappear to just now?"
"I ran into some trouble, but it's all taken care of now," Peter replied casually. Despite his calm tone, he still felt weak and drained. But it was much better compared to the moment when he nearly fainted.
"Well, knowing you're okay is the best news I've heard today," Gwen said, turning her gaze back toward the subway platform. "Did you see it, Peter? Spider-Man stopped the disaster."
"Spider-Man?" Peter's eyebrows arched slightly at the mention of the name.
"Yeah, don't you think he's like a spider? He shoots webs, stops subways and helicopters... he's such a cool superhero!"
"Yeah." Peter glanced at Gwen's hand, remembering that it was bitten by a spider. "I thought you were afraid of spiders?"
He recalled that after the incident with Frank, Gwen had developed a fear of them.
"Yes, but seeing Spider-Man today changed how I feel about spiders." Gwen smiled at Peter. "Now, I think it'd be amazing to be a superhero like that."
Peter nodded and muttered to himself, "It won't be long."
"What?" Gwen, whose hearing had also improved lately, caught his words and asked curiously, "What did you say, Peter?"
"I said, I'm looking forward to it," Peter repeated.
"Well, I'd love to say that I won't let you down, but I think it's going to be a challenge."
That evening, Gwen returned home feeling exhausted. Along with the lingering nausea, she had developed a fever. She wondered what was happening to her—how had she managed to catch Spider-Man without getting hurt?
With a heavy thud, she collapsed onto her bed, the light above her head making her feel dizzy. It felt as if she was walking down a rough, winding path, weaving through dense forests and thorny underbrush, stretching endlessly into the distance.
As she trudged forward, her body grew slower, her muscles weakened, and she began to wonder if she was still alive—or if she had become some kind of walking corpse.
"Gwen!" Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her father, George Stacy, knocking on her door.
Opening her eyes and forcing herself back to reality, Gwen got up and opened the door for her father.
"Good evening, Dad."
"Good evening, Gwen," George Stacy replied, frowning as he noticed how unwell she looked. "Are you alright, Gwen?"
"I'm fine, just a little tired," she replied.
George nodded, accepting her answer. It had been a long and exhausting day for both of them. The incident on the No. 7 subway had caused a massive uproar in New York, and even across the United States. The mysterious "Spider-Man" had stunned everyone by pulling a helicopter to halt the speeding train, and the news was buzzing with speculation about his identity and powers. The media's speculation about Spider-Man was accompanied by criticism of the New York police for their perceived inaction during the crisis. The anger, especially from the subway passengers, was directed at the NYPD.
George Stacy, after a long day of managing the backlash at the police station, finally returned home.
"I think we need to talk, Gwen," he said seriously. "Both at Midtown High School and today, you put yourself in dangerous situations. I don't want you to get hurt."
"I'm sorry, Dad. I just wanted to help," Gwen explained.
"But you're not a police officer, Gwen. And you're certainly not a superhero. Your abilities have their limits."
Rubbing her aching forehead, Gwen replied, "It's not about becoming special and then gaining responsibilities, right, Dad? Responsibility is something we're born with."
George Stacy let out a heavy sigh. "Gwen, you'll end up getting hurt. You won't be lucky every time."
"I know, but I keep embracing my fate. Even if I'm unlucky next time, and something unexpected happens, I won't complain," Gwen said, looking up at her father. "Dad, didn't you once tell me that people should learn from fountains, not drains? That they should be like leaves drifting in a stream, not barriers that block the flow?"
Hearing Gwen use his own words against him, George was left speechless.
After her father left, Gwen lay back on her bed, pressing her feverish forehead against the cool sheets. Her hand brushed against a notebook, which suddenly stuck to her palm. Startled, she stared at her hand in shock.
What was happening?
Meanwhile, on the rooftop of the Christian Cross Church in Manhattan, Harry clung to the cross, shivering as the night grew colder.
The freezing air bit at his skin, and as time passed, the chill became unbearable.
"Is anyone out there? Please, help!" He called out weakly, wondering why it felt like the world had forgotten about him.
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