Spider-Man released a narrow line of webbing, using his momentum to curl into an arc atop Rockafeller Center. Dusk was settling across New York City and the enroaching darkness threatened to ensconce even the brightest of Broadway.
Still no sign of the Goblin....or MJ
Guilt welled up inside of him like a dam about to burst.
"It's my fault...mine..."
Raising his eyes to the skyline, his acute senses could discern the foreboding outline of Tudor Hills -- rising against the canvas of night.
Sucking a breath into his lungs, Spider-Man leaped from the balcony and swung toward Norman Osborn's fortress.