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... months had gone by since I became Spider-Man, and the people of New York had gotten used to seeing me around.

As I swung through the busy streets of New York City on this holiday, I couldn't help but notice how cool it was to see old-fashioned stuff mixed with new gadgets. Despite the year being 1947, the world seemed to be on the brink of something truly revolutionary.

Well, today was a holiday, called a rest day. Well, this world and my world are different, so yeah. Anyway, um ...

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The smell of blood invaded my nostrils. I watched helplessly as the woman standing over me raised her sword. I was completely drained, I had no mana left, no items, nothing. As the crimson tendrils held me down by my arms and legs, all I could do was wait for my death.

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My vision darkened as the pain slowly faded. I felt the last of my vitality leave my body. It felt cold. I wondered to myself, when would I stop being? When would my thoughts disappear?

Soon, I saw those words I feared for all this time appear before me. “DEATH”, in the pale blue font the game always used. They remained suspended in the air for several seconds. It was over. After a long time of fighting, grinding, and exploring, it was finally over. I had died. This was the end of my story.

Suddenly, words before me shifted and changed into something different. I took a shallow breath as I heard a faint heartbeat.

……………………………………………………………

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