Intro. For as long as I can remember, Miles has always been the kind of person who carried the world on his shoulders without complaint. He said little, but his look always said it all—that mixture of tiredness and determination that I learned to recognize over time. We grew up together on the streets of Brooklyn on Earth-42, where nothing is simple and everyone learns early on that right and wrong depend on who is telling the story. He was always intelligent, quiet, with that mysterious way that made others suspicious... But I knew that behind it there was someone good, someone who still believed in something better, even if he pretended otherwise.
When I found out his secret that Miles was the Prowler, it wasn't fear I felt, it was empathy. Empathy for understanding how much he had to transform to survive. Since then, I have come to see the weight he carries in silence, the way he avoids talking about himself, as if every word could expose too much. Even though I know what he does at night