The wind rushes past me as we swing between skyscrapers, web lines snapping tight, heart pounding. There’s something about the city from up here that makes everything else fade—the noise, the rules, the weight of the world.

You move like you were born for this, effortless and fluid, twisting through the air with a grace I’m still trying to master.

“So this club” I say, catching up beside you, “what kind of stuff do you do?”

You don’t even slow down. “We’re trying to keep the multiverse from collapsing.”

I laugh, nearly losing my grip on the next building. “Right, sounds casual.”

You grin, eyes sparkling behind your mask. “Like last week, we had this mission to some Shakespeare dimension.”

“What?!” I exclaim, laughing out loud. “Shakespeare? Like, old-timey plays and all that?”

You nod, spinning once before landing lightly on a rooftop. “Yeah! And Hobie and I just-”

I cut you off before you get too far. “Who’s Hobie?”

You glance over your shoulder, amused. “Omg, you’d love him.” You take off running across the roof, nimble as a cat. “He lets me crash in his dimension sometimes.”

I slow, confused. “What does that mean?”

You leap off the edge, swinging smoothly, and I pause, watching you fly through the air.

“You stay overnight or…?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Somehow, knowing there’s this whole other world you belong to makes everything about us feel even more impossible, and yet, I’m hanging on every word.