You stroll through the Spider Society lobby, fiddling with your dimensional travel watch, biting your lip with concentration - that is until you bump into something.

You grunt, looking up to see what you bumped into, kinda hoping it was an object, not a person.

You were wrong.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, are you hurt?” The boy infront of you asks, his hands on your shoulders. His brown hair flowed down the right side of his face as his eyes (on his mask) were filled with concern.