Chapter Ten

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As Miguel drove through the city, it almost felt like he could see his life playing back on every building reflection he drove past.

Saw the day he went into work one day at Alchamex, slamming his resignation letter on Tyler Stone's desk.

Saw the conspiring look Tyler gave him as he gave him a drink, a good gesture for his departure. Realizing too late that he had been drugged with a highly addictive substance called Rapture, unique for how it literally bonded to the user's DNA, and solely streamlined on the market by of course, Alchemax.

The next part was many dumb decisions on Miguel's side, all in desperation to undo the binds that had been branded to him. Tyler had tried to force Miguel to stay on Alchemax, to corner him in a cage where he would forever rely on Alchemax for rapture or go to jail if he ever attempted to find the drug somewhere else.

And with him dependent, he would be twisted to do as many unspeakable acts for Tyler and unable to do anything about it.

The wild card Miguel held quickly disabused that notion, Tyler neglecting the very important fact that Miguel was still a scientist in the genetics department, and had already stored samples of his DNA from previous trials he did with chimpanzees.

He knew he just had to use this uncorrupted version of his DNA and a machine to rewrite the code rapture had altered. His hope was to undo the bond by using that genetic alteration, but a jealous co-worked, Delgado, switched out his dna with the dna of a spider last minute, rewriting half of Miguel's code and giving him unnatural abilities.

Talons that retracted into his fingers and toes, eyesight sensitive to light and able to see further distances than normal humans. Enhanced hearing and smell, a healing factor that shortened a week long recovery to a day, and improved strength and agility that allowed him to slice substances as durable as cinder block and dodge attacks with ease.

He was a monstrosity of a weapon, and every day was a nightmare he wanted to escape.

His car hummed as it sped through several lanes, weaving through traffic as his hand lazily steered the wheel.

For something that occurred a little over a year ago, it still felt hauntingly closer than it seemed on the calendar.

His life wasn't the same after that day. Dawning the mask at first for his own personal vendetta with Alchamex, trying to use his powers to take down Stone, and uncovering the much sinister web that entangled Nueva York.

A crime syndicate in downtown Manhattan, an occult group that awaited the return of a Norse god from the heroic ages, time portals that opened and transported Miguel to the original spider-man's timeline, fighting a symbiote creature before finally returning back to the present, only to find things much worse off when he left.

All of those battles- all of the countless times he saved the city- the planet, and for what?

His hand clenched the wheel, but it was his exigent thoughts that he tried to steer.

It was this madness of fate that Miguel hated the most. Whether it was called by it's different names of god or creator, ruler, karma, fortune or deity, he was always on the receiving end of its brutal hand.

It never lessened the burden. Never gave him a moment to breathe. Never let him heal the bruises left by his abusive father. Never let him feel the comfort of his mother, only the frigid distance that slowly morphed into a ravine between the two.

Never let him step out of his younger brother's shadow as he lifted him up into their mother's favor, praying and hoping he could achieve the love and approval he could never gain. Holding on even when he thought his arms would cave from the weight.

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