Spider-Man: Beyond the Spiderverse [My Way]

Chapter 1: I'm you

   The purple figure jumps off the beam he was planted at and makes his way towards Miles. His strut oozes with confidence and fearlessness, slightly swaying his shoulders smugly. Miles took this time to analyze this, Prowler. He is a bit smaller than Uncle Aaron, maybe even a teenager.

   His feet were laced with purple and black Utility Jordans, shoelaces untied. He wore a deep shade of purple combat pants with a matching leather jacket. The spray-painted prowler symbol illuminated the black piece of metal covering his torso, perhaps an extra layer of armour. Concealing his face was a screen, acting as a mask. The screen glows a brilliant purple, much lighter than his attire.

   With every step he took, the mask grew bigger. His presence makes Miles feel slightly uncomfortable, as he begins to think of who this could be. His breathing feels heavy but silent as well. 

   Snapping him out of his thoughts was the wind from one of his gauntlets whizzing by his head. Uncle Aaron chucked it. Prowler catches it with ease and slides his hand in with a click and a hiss of pneumatic pressure releasing. He then stops right in front of Miles and stares at the Spider-person.

   "Your dad is still alive?" A robotic voice bellows down to Miles. The voice itself was intimidating, but Miles couldn't figure out what he had just said. Maybe, it was too distorted, or maybe Miles was freaking out.

   Miles couldn't even think of what to say. "W-What?" is all he manages, slightly stuttering. 

   The Prowler tilts his head a bit to the side, "Your father. You said he's still alive?" He continues to look at his prisoner, noticing how frazzled he looks. The stutter only makes him feel more in control.

   "Yeah."

   The Prowler looks away for a second, as if deep in thought. "Huh."

   Miles uses this opportunity to ask the most crucial question. The question that he fears he may have the answer to. "Who are you?"

   The Prowler examines the boy in front of him, hesitating to expose his identity. With not much thought he decides to show him. The mask folds in on itself, revealing a young, Afro-Latino. It finally dawns on Miles who this really is. His guess is right, which only makes him feel sick inside. 

   "I'm Miles Morales," the boy in front of him says as if it were the most normal thing happening right now. His accent is strong, cutting through the silence. "But you... You can call me the Prowler." It was like looking through a mirror. They are the exact same, apart from the noticeable difference in hairstyles. Instead of the afro, this Miles had two cornrows, one on each side of his head, resting on his shoulders. His face also looks more defined, as if he were older. 

   "If I don't get home... our dad is gonna die—"

   "Your dad," he retorts, seriously. His face shows no emotion, and quite frankly, he seems not to have a care in the world for his counterpart.

   Miles closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to try and stay calm, though it doesn't really help much. He knew, uh, himself was right. It's his dad. "Please... You have to let me go." He softly says, almost in a whisper. He feels weak and vulnerable, practically begging for his liberty.

   His replica only smirks and moves closer. "Why would I do that?" he questions. His gauntlet activates, releasing a few sparks and streaks of purple electricity. He slowly raises his arm until it is next to Miles' face. He rests his hand a mere millimetres away from his head and continues to stare him down.

   Miles tried his best not to feel daunted, but to no prevail. The proximity with an evil, alternate version of himself felt overwhelming, to say the least. Meanwhile, this version of himself seems to be enjoying this, though not showing any emotion on his face—just a slight smirk.