Spiderverse: A Miles Morales AU

Miles sat on the worn-out couch in his dimly lit living room, the weight of confusion settling heavily on his mind. What if it's all in my head? he wondered, the memory of his last conversation with his friend Jason replaying in his mind. Jason had brushed off his concerns, teasing him and calling him a "wannabe superhero." The doubt planted by his friend gnawed at him. Maybe Jason was right. Maybe there's nothing special about me. Just a guy with strange ideas.

He sighed, slumping further into the couch. I really need to forget about this, he thought, massaging his temples. The room was silent except for the distant hum of traffic from the street outside. His mind raced with questions he had no answers for. Should I just let this go? I'm doing too much… imagining things… He glanced at the small pile of dirty dishes in the sink and decided that maybe a bit of mindless cleaning would help distract him.

As he walked over to the sink, still lost in thought, Miles didn't notice the subtle shifts happening within his own body. His heart was beating at an unnatural rate, speeding up to nearly 170 beats per minute. Unbeknownst to him, his cells were rapidly changing, mutating in ways he couldn't begin to understand—bonding with the DNA of the spider that had bitten him. His muscles twitched slightly, adapting and strengthening in ways beyond human capability. He felt a strange, restless energy inside him, but brushed it off as nerves.

Miles reached for a mug at the edge of the counter and accidentally bumped it with his elbow. He saw it falling, his brain registering every microsecond, stretching out the time between each one as the mug tumbled through the air. His eyes widened as he watched it descend toward the tiled floor, fully expecting to hear it shatter. But without even thinking, his arm shot out faster than he could believe, fingers closing around the mug mere inches from the ground.

His heart raced even faster as he stared at the mug in his hand, his mind reeling. Not again, he muttered, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. His body had moved in an instant, faster than he thought possible. He straightened up, clutching the mug, his eyes scanning the empty room as if hoping for some kind of explanation.

Why couldn't this happen in front of Jason? he thought bitterly. He'd have to believe me then. But as things stood, he had no proof—just a string of odd moments he could barely explain to himself, let alone to someone as skeptical as Jason.

He placed the mug carefully back on the counter, trying to calm himself. What is happening to me? he thought. His heart rate had returned to normal, yet he felt… different. Why am I tireless lately? And what's up with these reflexes? He looked at his hands, flexing his fingers slowly, noticing the faint tremor of residual energy.

His mind raced as he considered his options. Who do I talk to about this? Jason would laugh it off again, and without any solid evidence, Miles doubted he could make anyone believe him. I need answers, he thought, a sense of urgency gripping him. But where could he go? How could he understand the impossible changes happening inside him?

Still lost in his thoughts, Miles decided he needed to clear his head, hoping a walk outside would ease the tension bubbling inside him. Pulling on his jacket, he grabbed his headphones, plugged them into his phone, and scrolled through his playlist until he found something loud enough to drown out his racing thoughts. He turned the volume up to maximum, letting the music throb in his ears, nearly numbing his senses. The bass pounded as he made his way down the dimly lit street, each step feeling heavier than the last.

The neighborhood was quiet at this hour, the streetlamps casting pale halos on the empty sidewalk. The cool night air was refreshing, but Miles couldn't shake the restlessness pulsing through his veins. It wasn't just confusion anymore; it was something else, something strange that kept him on edge. As he continued walking, he started to feel a tingling sensation ripple across his skin, like goosebumps but sharper, more alert. The feeling was eerily familiar—he'd felt it before, that time during the basketball game when he'd sensed a ball flying straight toward his head, reacting before he even knew what was happening.

He slowed down, glancing around, trying to understand what was triggering this odd sensation. *What's going on?* he thought, pressing pause on his music so he could listen. His surroundings were deceptively calm, yet his senses were heightened, like he was anticipating something dangerous just around the corner.

Then, from a distance, he heard the sound of screeching tires and the wail of sirens. Down the street, he could make out the flashing red and blue lights of police cars speeding his way. As they got closer, he noticed a black SUV weaving dangerously through traffic, with police cars hot on its tail. A robbery, he realized. The armed robbers must have been trying to make their getaway.

Miles instinctively moved closer to the sidewalk, watching the chase unfold. His heart was pounding again, but he couldn't tell if it was from excitement or dread. As he tried to stay out of harm's way, his attention was drawn to a woman nearby, fussing with her purse, seemingly oblivious to her baby's stroller slowly drifting away from her toward the street. The stroller was on a slight incline, rolling straight into the path of the oncoming chase, and the woman was still distracted, unaware of the looming danger.

A flash of anxiety surged through Miles. He looked from the stroller to the oncoming SUV, realizing that, in mere seconds, the car would collide with it if nothing changed. He felt that tingling sensation intensify, every nerve in his body screaming at him to do something, to move. But the distance was too far—wasn't it?

Without fully understanding his own actions, he took a step forward, then another, and suddenly, his entire body propelled him forward with incredible speed. The world around him seemed to blur as he moved, his vision narrowing down to a single target: the stroller.

Time seemed to slow, stretching each moment. He could see the SUV hurtling toward the stroller, the terrified look of the police officer in the driver's seat, the flicker of lights bouncing off the buildings. The baby was only inches from the street, dangerously close to the oncoming car. And yet, Miles found himself already there, reaching out, his muscles moving faster than he had ever thought possible.

Just as the SUV came within inches of the stroller, Miles lunged forward, shoving the stroller back onto the sidewalk with a force he couldn't even register. The stroller rolled safely away, and he stumbled to the side, avoiding the car by a hair's breadth as it tore down the road. For a split second, everything was silent—his heart, the sirens, the screech of tires—all drowned out by his own astonishment.

He stood there, panting, as the stroller's mother finally noticed what had just happened. She rushed to her baby, scooping up the infant in trembling arms, her face a mixture of shock and gratitude. Miles blinked, still trying to process what he had just done. *How did I…?* he thought, his heart racing in his chest as he struggled to make sense of his actions.

People had begun to gather, murmuring and pointing at him, some in disbelief, others with admiration. He wanted to explain, to tell them that he didn't know how he'd managed to move so fast, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he backed away slowly, the weight of his confusion settling over him once more. His body still hummed with energy, his pulse pounding as if he'd run a marathon in those few, life-saving seconds.

He knew he couldn't ignore this any longer. Whatever was happening to him was real, and it was something beyond anything he'd ever known. He walked away from the crowd, glancing back once to see the mother still cradling her baby, looking around for him. A strange feeling settled over him—not exactly fear, but the overwhelming sense that he was on the verge of something far greater than he could understand. And he had no idea where to go from here.

Miles's mind was racing as he tugged his hoodie over his head, hiding his face from the curious glances that still lingered in his direction. He took a deep breath, his heart still pounding from the adrenaline of what he'd just done. Two incidents in one day—first the mug, now this. Each one more unbelievable than the last. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked quickly, his legs carrying him home as if on autopilot, his mind tumbling with questions he couldn't answer.