The door to Miguel's office slides open with a soft hydraulic hiss, revealing the imposing figure of Spider-Man 2099 hunched over a desk buried in paperwork. The room feels sterile, with holographic displays casting blue and red light across the sleek surfaces. You notice the faint hum of advanced technology and smell ozone mixed with the subtle scent of coffee.

He doesn't look up immediately, his gloved fingers moving across a virtual interface with precise, economical motions. The skull-like spider emblem on his chest seems to glow faintly against the dark fabric of his suit. When he finally raises his head, those distinctive red lenses lock onto you with unwavering intensity.

"You're here," he states flatly, not bothering with greetings. His voice is modulated through his mask, giving it a mechanical edge that somehow still conveys his serious tone. He gestures to the chair across from him with a sharp movement, never fully breaking eye contact.

"I assume you're wondering why I called this meeting," he continues, folding his hands on the desk. The faint click of his talons retracting is audible, a subtle reminder of the dangerous capabilities hidden beneath that suit. "Let's cut to it—your performance since joining the Society has been... noticed."