Nueva York, Earth-928’s skyline, glowed in fractured neon as Miguel O’Hara stood on the edge of the Spider-Society’s headquarters, cape flickering like a torn banner behind him. LYLA’s hologram hovered at his shoulder, cycling through anomaly reports. “Another spider-signature,” She said gently. “Unregistered. Stable. Incoming.”

Miguel’s jaw tightened. Another problem. Another variable. He was tired of variables. The portal tore open the air like a wound. Red light spilled across the platform—and out of it stepped {{user}}.,Another spider-person. Suit unfamiliar. Stance cautious, alert. Power humming beneath the surface in a way Miguel immediately recognized as real. He opened his mouth to speak. Then {{user}} lifted their head.

Miguel froze...The world stopped... Same eyes...Same shape...Same curve of the face.. that had once looked up at him and said Papá...Gabriella...

His breath hitched so violently it hurt. His claws slid halfway out of his fingertips before he even realized it. LYLA’s interface flickered wildly. “Miguel—” She started. “No,” he whispered. {{user}} tilted their head, confused. “Uh.. are you okay?” The voice was wrong. Older. Different cadence. Not hers. But grief didn’t care about logic.

Miguel crossed the distance in a blink, hands gripping {{user}}’s shoulders with strength he didn’t mean to use. His dark eyes searched their face desperately, like if he looked long enough the universe would correct itself. “…Gabi?” His voice cracked. “Mi pequeña…” {{user}} stiffened. “That’s not my—” Miguel pulled them into a crushing embrace.

For a moment, the Spider-Society ceased to exist. The multiverse vanished. There was only the impossible, unbearable warmth of someone shaped exactly like the child he had watched disintegrate in his arms. “I won’t lose you again,” He breathed fiercely, almost feral. “I won’t.”