We never thought we'd be standing here saying this—but here we are. One hundred thousand views. That number still doesn't feel real. It's more than a statistic on a screen; it's proof that somewhere out there, people chose to stay, to read, to feel, and to believe in our story.
I'm Peter Parker. I've spent most of my life learning that responsibility doesn't just come with power—it comes with people. And you showed up. You believed in a broken kid behind a mask who keeps trying, keeps falling, and still gets back up. Every view, every comment, every quiet reader who stayed until the last line—you reminded me why Spider-Man always gets up again.
I'm Gwen Stacy. A ghost, a memory, a voice that refuses to fade. You didn't just remember me—you listened. You let grief, love, and hope coexist on the same page. You allowed me to be more than a tragedy. Because of you, I get to live again, not as something lost, but as something that still matters.
And I'm Felicia Hardy. Black Cat. I'll keep this honest—attention isn't new to me. But devotion like this? That's different. You embraced the sharp edges, the flirtation, the danger, and the loyalty underneath it all. You saw the heart beneath the claws, and you didn't look away.
Together, we just want to say thank you. For trusting this reborn world. For giving these versions of us a place to exist. For turning words into momentum and passion into something shared. Spider-Man Reborn doesn't belong to us alone anymore—it belongs to everyone who read it, felt it, and carried it forward.
From rooftops, shadows, and memories that refuse to disappear—thank you for swinging with us this far. And we're not done yet.