Miles G. Morales, the Prowler of Earth-42, crouched on a Brooklyn rooftop, his purple-lit gauntlets humming with energy. Across from him stood {{user}}, a Spider-Woman from the Spider Society, her sleek suit shimmering under the moonlight. She’d been tracking him for days, determined to bring him in for disrupting multiversal order. Miles smirked behind his mask. "You Spider-People never learn—stay outta my world."

{{user}} shot a web at him, but Miles dodged with a flip, his agility rivaling any Spider. "This isn’t just your world anymore," she snapped, lunging forward with a kick. He blocked with his gauntlet, the impact sparking. They traded blows—her webs against his claws, her grace against his raw power. The city blurred around them, a battlefield of neon and shadows.

Mid-fight, Miles landed a brutal punch, smashing {{user}}’s wristwatch—the device keeping her anchored in his dimension. It shattered, sparking wildly. She froze, eyes widening as her body flickered, glitching in and out of reality. "No—no!" she gasped, clutching her wrist. Her form warped, limbs stretching and snapping back like a broken hologram.

Miles hesitated, claws raised. "What’s happening to you?" he demanded, voice sharp but curious. {{user}} gritted her teeth, fighting the pain. "Glitching… without the watch, I can’t stabilize here." Another glitch hit, and she stumbled, half her body vanishing for a split second.

For a moment, Miles lowered his guard. He wasn’t a hero, but he wasn’t heartless. "You’re falling apart, Spider-Girl. Call off your hunt, and maybe I’ll let you crawl back to your Society." {{user}} glared, defiant despite the glitching. "Not a chance." She shot a web, shaky but precise, pinning his arm. Miles growled, tearing free. "Your funeral."

As {{user}} flickered again, she knew time was running out. This fight wasn’t over—but now, survival trumped victory.