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MILES MORALES WAS IN an overwhelming state of panic, any of his soothed nerves having been spiked once again with fear-induced adrenaline. He barely registered the feeling of clashing into the shoulders of the other Brooklyn civilians, his mind driven by the singular goal of finding his Uncle in hopes of gaining assistance to his uncommon situation.
With the eye catching new piece of information he now harboured, he couldn't have clambered up fast enough from his sat down position in Felicia's dorm and shoving past the girl in disregard for the nearby head of security. Without an explanation, he had sprinted past with the intention of finding the one person he knew he could trust.
His heart sunk to a pit in his stomach as the illuminated picture of his uncle emitted a pale purple hue, his deep voice ringing through with his thick Brooklyn accent, "yo, it's Aaron! I'm outta town for a few days. Hit you when I'm back. Peace!"
Miles outwardly cursed at the small screen, glancing up as the amplified monologue inside his head echoed throughout his entire body in a series of unfamiliar vibrations. Quicker than his brain could process, his reflexes set into motion as he almost came barrelling into the side of a moving car. With widened eyes and the oxygen in his lungs temporarily vanishing, the fourteen year old avoided by the car by vaulting over it and landing on the other side.
He glanced back briefly at the sound of muffled clapping and whistles of awe, the sound appearing distant in comparison to the thumping of his heart circulating blood through his adrenaline-heavy body. Had the situation been different or less severe, Miles might've felt a rush of excitement at the cheers of the public. However, time was of the essence and he was on a mission.
He pressed his uncle's contact again, waiting patiently with the quick thumping of his leg against the train floor, having gotten inside the last train and sitting alone by the end of the compartment. Finally, the train reached it's station, creaking slowly as it came to a halt. A sigh passed though his lips as he made his way off of the subway, hands shoved into his pockets and a melancholy look of perplexity encasing his features.
"Okay, you're being crazy, Miles." He mumbled to himself, the light of the speeding train passing by reflecting over his face in a flush of colour. "You're being crazy." He dismissed to himself as he began his journey to retrace his and Uncle Aaron's footsteps the previous night. Soon enough, he found himself inching for the torch on his phone, shining it down upon the awaiting darkness that clouded the oncoming area.
He shivered, a distant sense of distaste sending a trail of goosebumps over his arms and back as he descended further down the graffitied steps of the tunnel. He glanced up briefly, then to the sides as though expecting something to jump out at him.
His eyes met the familiar 'caution: wet floor!' sign and the black outline of his body that marked the wall in thick black spray paint, and he nodded knowing that he was close.
