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MILES POV:
To say Miles’ week had been weird, would be an understatement. He had his fair share of strange villains, the Spot being the icing on the cake. When he called him “the villain of the week”, he would’ve never imagined that this guy was here to make it the worst week of his life. At least that guy used holes as his weapon, not the weirdest thing to do, considering the fact that he fought weirder criminals before. Like that one white guy with ice powers, who dressed up as a Pharaoh; or that guy who called himself “the Bumbler”, using honey as weapon. At least those guys were fun to fight and they didn’t use claws, something Miles was incredibly thankful for. ‘Cause that shit was becoming a theme in his life. That, and the fact that he was currently chased like he was some kind of prey, his alter ego, the Prowler, hot on his trail. That was like what? The fourth time now? Getting chased by the Prowler seemed to be his newest hobby these days. It was bad enough, back then, when he didn’t have a good grasp on his powers yet, and almost fell victim to his very own Uncle. Just seeing Uncle Aaron’s face again had filled him with a cocktail of emotions. He looked so different here. Aaron had the same face, sure, but he looked older, a touch of grey in his beard, and a hardness in his eyes that left Miles shaken.
Nothing could’ve prepared him for the other Miles though. Seeing his own face, with such cold indifference, was something else. So this was the Miles, that Spider was meant to bite, instead he turned into the Prowler. What would’ve happened to him, had he not been bitten? Would he have turned into the Prowler too? Would his Uncle have survived? All of these questions burned hot under his skin, and he briefly wondered if Miguel had been right. None of that mattered right now, reality had already been altered and he had to save his Dad. A father the Prowler no longer had. Miles wasn’t sure, if this universe’s Uncle Aaron and his alter ego had believed his story. It sounded insane enough, and had he not lived it, he would’ve not believed it himself either. Aaron believed he was a clone, escaped from Roxxon. Prowler believed he was some sort of science project, that had somehow escaped the Sinister Six Syndicate. Whoever those guys are. So the first thing they tried to do was to dispose of him. “How dare you come in here, wearing my nephew’s face?”, Aaron had regarded him with nothing but venom in his voice. The moment it became clear that Aaron and the Prowler would not let him go, Miles did his best to charge up his venom blast, without them noticing. It had worked liked a charm. Miles burst through his bonds, the chains exploding through the room, knocking Aaron out in the process. Miles wasted no time and broke through the window, not even looking where he was headed. All he had to do for now, was to get some distance between him and Prowler.
The Prowler was protected by his armor, so he blocked the chains with his clawed hand and put his mask back in place. Miles didn’t need to see his face to know how pissed he must be. Miles jumped from roof to roof, his web cartridges had run out of web fluid. He wasn’t fast enough like this and he knew it. The Prowler seemed to know too. If that wasn’t bad enough, he kept glitching. He’d die at this rate before the Prowler would even get to him. Miles thought about how all this started cause of a donut. That almost made him fall five stories deep, and despite everything he laughed. Now the Prowler must really believe him to be some escaped nutcase. His laughter was short-lived as the next glitch hit him hard and he fell onto the roof. That was the chance the Prowler was waiting for.
Speaking of his alter ego, Miles felt a burning sensation in his left leg, realising the Prowler had just clawed into him deep. Looks like he was going for the Achilles Tendon. A smart move, but Miles’ fast reflexes made him miss that vital spot. “Nowhere left to run”, the Prowler spat and Miles felt like he’d been slapped in the face. What were the chances of the Prowler saying that twice? First Uncle Aaron and now this guy? This time was different though. He was not new to this shit and he HAD beaten the spider society, including Miguel. So he could beat himself too.
His name is Miles Morales. And he is going home.
PROWLER POV:
When he first saw his doppelganger standing next to Uncle Aaron, the Prowler didn’t know what to think. Was this some new bullshit trick by Roxxon or the Sinister Six Syndicate? Had they finally figured out who he was and came to destroy him from the inside out? Whatever the case, he couldn’t just let that shit fly, so he knocked this cheap knockoff out. With the help of his Uncle, he tied the other Miles to Aaron’s punching bag, waiting for his copy to regain consciousness. He concealed himself in the shadows then, leaving Uncle Aaron to intimidate the clone. The other Miles, Spider-man he called himself, ridiculous name if you asked him, spoke to Uncle Aaron as if he knew him. Pleaded with him, telling him he didn’t have to be the Prowler, that he could be a good guy. Which was ridiculous cause he was the Prowler. So whatever memories his enemies implanted this copy with, it was far from foolproof. So his enemies didn’t know everything. Interesting. Aaron punched the bag with his clawed hand then, scaring the copy half to death. Time to make his entrance.
The Prowler descended from the spot he was lurking on, putting his mask in place first. He slowly approached the other Miles, asking him about his father, which for some reason, this lil shit thought was still alive. What kind of a sick joke was this? He then revealed his face to the copy, making him freeze up. The copy then had the nerve to plead with him too, asking to be set free to save his father. First, he invaded his home, and then had the gall to mock him about his dead father? There was no one left to save. All this copy did was reopen old wounds and the Prowler was gonna make him pay. He put his clawed hand right next to his face, determined to rip his head off. Aaron would just have to get a new punching bag.
The moment Prowler was ready to strike, the chains that had bound his copy, exploded through the room, knocking his Uncle out in the process. The other Miles was quick on his feet, he had to admit that. His Uncle would be fine, so the Prowler followed his copy immediately, anger clear in his movement. He was gonna rip that piece of shit apart. His copy jumped from roof to roof, clearly frustrated about what? Not being fast enough? Almost as if he wasn’t used to being stuck on the ground. The other Miles laughed then, whatever about the Prowler couldn’t tell, not that it mattered anyway. He’d make sure this cheap knockoff had nothing to laugh about. His copy then fell, a bright flurry of colors lighting his body up. What the hell was that? Whatever it was, it had slowed him down enough so that he could make his move. He charged up his right gauntlet and clawed at the other Miles’ left foot. He barely missed a vital spot, damn, but his copy fell down all the same. “Nowhere left to run,” he spat at his copy then, determined to end this little charade, right here and now. The other Miles straightened up, a look to his eyes that told the Prowler, he was done playing games. But so was he.
His name is Miles Morales. And he was going to make sure he remained the only one.