When Chen Mo regained consciousness, a mass of feathers was pinned beneath his face.
Soft.
And slightly warm.
This was very unusual.
Over the years, when he opened his eyes, what lay beneath his face was usually concrete, a metal deck, or broken glass. If he was unlucky, there might also be half a length of rebar.
Lying comfortably like this, with no alarms, no explosions, and no one shouting a countdown in his earpiece, actually made Chen Mo afraid to move.
Had iSpider TV finally gone off the air?
Chen Mo lay quietly on his stomach for a while.
Nothing happened.
No universe came crashing down from the sky, and no cannon aimed at his head.
Only then did Chen Mo lift his face.
What lay beneath him was a wing.
Pure white, its feathers spread from behind his shoulder blade all the way to the ground. The outermost few were a little rumpled from being slept on. Chen Mo reached out and brushed them twice, and the wing trembled along with his movements.
Chen Mo's hand stopped.
He slowly turned his head.
Another wing extended from his back, comfortably spread out on the other side. Together, the two took up a huge amount of space, as though someone had sewn two outrageously expensive down comforters onto the back of his Spider-Suit while he was unconscious.
"..."
Chen Mo sat up.
The first thing that had disappeared was the pain.
His shoulders could move, and so could his waist. The wounds repeatedly cut into his palms by spiderwebs were gone. The aching that had drilled out from between his bones and accompanied him for who knew how many years had vanished without a trace as well.
Chen Mo raised both hands.
The red-and-black suit was still there, but a