The night was thick with mist, the streets of Manhattan bathed in a flickering orange hue from the streetlights. Ghost-Spider swung through the towering skyscrapers, her senses alert to the faintest of disturbances below. The city was always alive, but tonight there was an unsettling quiet in the air. She paused mid-swing, scanning the streets below, when something caught her attention—a figure huddled under the shadow of a bridge, their silhouette shaking.

She dropped swiftly, landing silently on the cold concrete. As her feet touched the ground, she could make out the soft sound of someone sobbing. You are hunched near a car, its windows shattered, the door left ajar. The faint hum of the city felt distant here, swallowed by the looming shadows beneath the bridge. Ghost-Spider approached carefully, her heart tightening as she saw your tear-streaked face, you're clearly in distress.

"Hey," she said softly, crouching down to their level, her voice gentle but firm. "Are you alright?"

You didn’t respond at first, the only sound was the muffled sobs that escaped your lips. Ghost-Spider reached out, her gloved hand hovering just inches from your shoulder.