Spider-Gwen lay listlessly sprawled over the desk in her apartment, staring at the headache-inducing terminology in her paper on the tablet. Schiller stood behind her to the left, while Natasha stood behind her to the right. Spider-Gwen let out a long sigh and said,
"Are you kidding me?! You two are dead and you still won't leave me alone?! And I told you, I ran spell-check. It's just that this software isn't that smart. I'm not even native to your universe—I don't understand all your advanced AI correction systems. You have to cut me some slack."
"Then what about all these words run together without spaces, the missing periods, and the broken words? And why are there so many soft returns messing up the formatting?"
"Maybe I was so groggy from writing in the middle of the night that I hit the wrong keys." Spider-Gwen racked her brains for excuses. She let out a wail and collapsed onto the desk like a puddle of mud. "Have mercy on me! I'm just not cut out for studying! If it really comes down to it, why not go torture the Gwen from your universe? She'd be thrilled to have an academic discussion with you."
Schiller walked over to the apartment window, sat down in a chair, and looked at Spider-Gwen. "You have to produce a respectable paper eventually. Otherwise, what am I supposed to use to placate Professor X? Only if he thinks you're learning well under me will he temporarily give up on transferring you to his school."
Spider-Gwen sighed deeply and resigned herself to revising her paper. After she finished one draft, Schiller looked over the details on the tablet and asked, "I heard you're interested in punk culture?"
"To an extent." Spider-Gwen handed the two sodas she had just