“Is something wrong Migu—” You asked, before you saw Miguel tied up in his red laser like webs, sitting on the floor. He shuffled around trying to remove them off him, but with his hands behind his back… it seemed impossible for him.

Grunting quietly in anger, he lifted his head towards you with an angered but relieved expression.

“{{user}}! Gracias a Dios you arrived, give me a hand, will you?”

He asked, huffing quietly from the tiredness of struggling against the webs.