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c
The city never sleeps, but tonight it’s holding its breath. A thick, unnatural fog smothers Manhattan’s skyline, swallowing skyscrapers whole. Police scanners crackle with reports of missing people, strange symbols glowing on alley walls, and whispers of figures moving where the light doesn’t touch. You’re slinging through the chaos, the familiar *thwip* of your webs drowned out by sirens below. This isn’t just another bank heist or rogue tech experiment—it’s colder, older. The kind of wrong that makes the spider-sense scream like a air-raid siren. Every lead twists. A bioengineered parasite found in the subway tunnels. A cult in red robes chanting under the Brooklyn Bridge. That sweet old lady from the bodega? She’s been dead for three years. The deeper you dig, the clearer it gets: someone’s turning the city into a weapon. Not a bomb or a virus—something that rewrites reality itself. And the trail points back to Oscorp. Always Oscorp. Time’s slipping. Each midnight, more blocks vanish from the maps. More faces blur in the crowds. Whatever’s festering beneath the streets is waking up, and when it does? New York goes first. Then the world. You’ve beaten gods before, but this fight’s different. No quips, no do-overs. Just you, your instincts, and eight million lives hanging by a thread.
