Perspective of a Lonely Hero

Across The Spider-Verse Issue 01: Let's Do Things Differently

After a long time thinking, I decided to change my mind regarding the adventures of Batman in this story between Into The Spider-Verse and Across The Spider-Verse. Instead of what I had said at the end of the last chapter, we are just going to go straight into the movie "Across The Spider-Verse."

With that out of the way, let's get right on with the story.

Shall we?

Gwen sat at the church's bench, a part of her appreciating the emptiness of the place. It was a beautiful church, full of statues and religious decorations, a big crucifix on the altar at the end. The moonlight didn't fully enter the place, so the lighting was provided by the lit candles and the dim lights on the ceiling.

Gwen was never religious, but the possibility of some peace and quiet was too much to pass right now. She needed to go somewhere to sit down and sort out her thoughts and this little church in Hell's Kitchen seemed like a good place for that.

"You look troubled, my daughter."

Surprised, Gwen looked up; she was deeper in her thoughts than she imagined, to let someone so close without her Spider-Sense telling her.

It was a priest, an older man with gray short hair, dressed in black clothes. "I'm Father Lantom," he introduced himself with a deep voice.

"Gwen," she said, nodding her head once. She looked around, not saying anything for a while. "I'm a bit surprised the church is empty tonight. A, uh, a close friend of mine  said this place would have a choir and people on Sundays."

"That is true, but the storm seems to have kept people from leaving home," Father Lantom replied. "That and all these years with the Six. People would come here when there was a real serious problem."

Gwen couldn't help but chuckle. "Only when there's a real serious problem?"

"Well, you know how it is, there are no atheists on a falling plane," Father Lantom smiled.

She chuckled again. "I'm sure the people are praying from home."

"I hope so," the priest said. "I'm afraid we are going to need all the help we can get if this night turns real ugly."

Father Lantom closed his eyes for a moment, as if praying too, in silence. Gwen didn't interrupt, she just kept ponder about what she would and should do.

"So. . ." began the priest, opening his eyes and looking at Gwen again. "What ails you, daughter? Would you like to talk about it?"

Gwen looked at the priest. "I'm not religious, father."

"But I am. And my religion compels me to aid anyone who needs it. So, I ask again, what ails you, daughter?"

Gwen sighed, tapping a finger on her watch, looking down for a moment. She takes a deep breath.

". . . I. . . I have hurt someone, someone I care deeply about," Gwen said, grimacing in shame and looking upwards to the church's roof and saw a few bats flying in the rafters above. Well, isn't that ironic.

"We met when we were younger, I only knew him for a week but we understood each other completely. Like two sides of the same coin." Gwen goes on. "We got interested in the same job of helping people. When I left, I met an organization that helps people and got invited. And I wanted him to join, I really did, but they kept telling me no until the boss finally told me why. But I still wanted to see him. And when I did, I couldn't bring myself to tell him why he couldn't be part of the organization without hurting him."