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Earth 876 October 21st, 2020
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 𓆩𓆪𒈞 ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
A web lashes out from your wrist and latches onto the spire of a tall building. You yank on it, your powerful back muscles propelling yourself out of the thick smog blanketing the city traffic.
As you lay suspended mid-air over the city for a second, you draw in a deep breath, sucking in the material that formed your mask before your mouth. Fresh oxygen flooded your system once more instead of the burning smog and you gasp in relief. The smog wrapped around the bases of the skyscrapers, obscuring the city of Neo York, splitting the neon lights from the billboards and signs to color itself in hues of scarlet, magenta, purple and blue.
Gravity seizes control of your body and you free-fall through the sky, embracing the acidic sting of the smog in your throat once again. You shoot a web at a nearby traffic signal pole and swing over the vehicles on the highway. Red and amber lights blinked and faded as the cars caught in the raucous traffic jam lurched forward at a snail's pace.
The truck that you land on slams its brakes suddenly, the inertia almost sending you tumbling over. You wince as you hear glass shattering somewhere to your right- the low visibility was steadily adding casualties to your little rescue list.
You crouch to steady yourself, squinting through the smog to analyze what had happened. You can make out the dark outlines of two people trapped underneath an overturned car before you.
Your body moves without a second thought, firing webs at the undersurface of the car to patch up the leaking oil tank first and then at the axles. A grunt escapes your mouth as you dig your heels into the asphalt and rotate the car into an upright position. The wheels touch the ground soon and you release the webs, rushing forward to help the people trapped within the car.
"It's ok, you're safe now," you whisper as you yank the door open, loosen the belt of the driver, and pat their cheek. The driver rolls their head to face you, one of her eyes blackened and half-lidded from the impact of the crash, their chest heaving slowly. You pat her down and feel her right arm bent at an unnatural angle. You're quick to stabilize the arm and put it in a sling with a flurry of your webs.
"Witchspider," the driver breathes as you hoist her onto your shoulders. You slide over the car's burning hood to rescue the other passenger. This was an unconscious man, probably the lady's husband, and you quickly take him into your arms. You take a second to align yourself. You fire a web from your wrist at the nearby tower and take to the air, your gaze fixed on the huge red plus sign in the distance. The hospital was busy today, with both you and the first responders competing to see who would admit the most number of civilians to the ER.
