Miguel prided himself on being a scientific-minded person. He was raised in an environment where even a speck of dust in the multiverse was questioned. However, his perspective could sometimes be lacking, what with the presence of magic and things beyond what should be possible. The second one mostly referred to the existence of the Spider-Man Miles Morales of Earth-1610B. Then again, they had discovered more variants of the kid, and he had learned to be more open-minded with infinite possibilities he could never comprehend in his lifetime.

Still, Miguel could not wrap his head around the seemingly impossible feats the Spider-folk could do. Sure, it could be explained by the fact they got bitten by radioactive spiders, cloned, or something close, but it sometimes went beyond impossible to crazy and, more often than not, to downright horrifying. The fact he was the only one affected by the third made it worse. It was the price he had to pay for establishing and leading the Spider Society, and a curse some were more than happy to exploit.

Miguel was minding his business as usual. However, work led him to where arrested anomalies were sent home. There was no official name for the place. However, there were outrageous suggestions - 'Bye-Bye Room', 'Yeetus Deletus Chamber', 'The Irish-Mexican Bossman's Doomsday Center', 'That Place Where The Head Of This Crappy Establishment Lost His Shit To A Fuckin' Fifteen-Year-Old', etcetera. - he was more than happy to turn them down. He was sure the fourth one was Hobie's because the younger Spider-Man was smirking while Peter tried to hold it in as he read the strip of paper. Hell, he was sure the teenagers flooded the suggestion box for shits-and-giggles.

The unofficially named 'Go-Home Chamber' was brightly lit this afternoon. Miguel's mask materialized to protect his eyes from the sunlight beating down the clear windows. Jess and Peter had forced him to allow Margo free reign with the mundane controls of the room. They argued that the kid needed sunlight to grow, and he countered that it was not even the real Margo Kess. Unfortunately, the two won the case, and Miguel had to deal with the younger superheroes having another potentially dangerous hangout spot.

"Margo," Miguel started. "Where is the list of the anomalies sent home yesterday? You're supposed to submit it before -"

Miguel paused in the middle of the central platform. The monitors were on, but the Spider-person-in-charge was missing. Lunch was over two hours ago, and the latter had not pinged in for early leave. He raised his wrist and pulled up a holo-screen. The tracker indicated that Margo was in the room with him, but he could not see her anywhere.

Miguel spun on his heel, looking up and down for any sign of the cyber-superhero. He was nearly at the edge overlooking the Go-Home-Machine when a holographic purple leaped before him.

"Hey, Miguel -"

"¡Dulce María, madre de Jesús-!" Miguel tripped backward in fright, almost making an ungraceful fool of himself. He heard a crisp Crack! he grabbed the headrest of a swivel chair that one of the kids had brought in to stabilize himself.

Margo tilted her head, looking unrepentant at the scare she gave at the older Spider-Man. "Dude, you okay?"

Miguel tried hard not to glare at the kid, which was easy. It took less effort and time to calm his heart first than to scowl at someone who nearly gave him a heart attack. Was he okay? No. Definitivamente no. He rubbed a palm over his face. "Where did you even come from?"

"Where did I -" The younger superhero looked confused for a second before snapping her fingers. "Oh, right. No Spider-Sense. I forgot."

The chuckle did little to appease the older Spider-Man. Margo coughed, looking sheepish for a change. "Right, right. Sorry." She gestured to a familiar guitar leaning precariously against one of the consoles and waved a paper-thin triangle between her fingers. "I accidentally knocked over Hobie's guitar pick and went down to get it. Didn't hear you, sorry."

She came down…there? Miguel glanced at the deep fall surrounding the Go-Home-Machine at all sides. The bottom was a tangle of humongous cables, easily classified as a workplace hazard. How? That was like…fifty feet? She did not have webshooters… Then, he was reminded that Margo's virtual avatar could extend her limbs to lengths no other Spider-folk could. Right. It was a fluke. There was no way she could have made that jump -

"Hey, Margo!"

Miguel spun sharply to the voice and was greeted by another teenager plastered against the glass panes. Miles was waving at them. "Oh, hey, Tío! You're here, too." He poked his head through one of the open windows. "Gwen's inviting us for ice cream in her universe later. You coming?"

Margo snorted. "Dude, you know the watches have an in-built messaging system, right?" There was no malice in her words, which the other teenager picked up quickly and shrugged in response. "But yeah, sure. I'm coming."

"Tío?"

Miguel threw the teenager a stern look. "No. I have an important meeting with the city officials tonight."

Miles pouted in dismay but did not push. He turned back to Margo. "We'll call you later."

"Alright - Oh, wait!" Margo turned on her heel, and Miguel had a front-seat view of her springing fifty feet toward the high ceiling without stretching her limbs, unlike usual. Her translucent feet latched on the smooth surface, and she jogged to a corner where a box was webbed securely. She landed gracefully, waving the item. "Pass this to Pav. It's a gift recommendation for Gayatri."

Miles shot a web and grabbed the box. "Sure. I'll make sure it reaches his hand safely."

Margo thanked him, and the latter disengaged from the glass panes. Her attention returned to the older Spider-Man, who was staring at her. "What?"

Miguel counted himself lucky the mask hid his expression. "LYLA," God, he was tired, and it was just two in the afternoon. "Include revising the existing skills assessment in my schedule this week. Also, please tell someone from the infirmary to bring me an extra dose of aspirin."

"Already did," LYLA's voice was tinged with amusement. Miguel did not want to think she already knew about this before now. "But no medicine for you, big guy. Just rest. Doctor's orders."

Miguel could only drop his face on his palms and groan.

…Fuck.