The Wondrous Web-Surfer!

In another, another, another universe…

The explosive end of the third millennium heralds a colorfully bleak future.

Humanity's advancements in nearly every aspect of society over the centuries has mended a world riddled with problems; everything from climate change and energy crises to world hunger and healthcare. Society will never be a perfect futuristic paradise, like their ancestors had hoped, but the asymptote between an idealistic utopia and the land of the living gets smaller with each passing day.

However — to absolutely nobody's surprise — there's cracks in this idyllic perception.
Namely, the 2990s feel like a bastardization of the 1990s accompanied by the relentless, superficial chaos that dominated the early 21st century. It feels like very little — if anything — has actually changed for the better as the centuries went by, despite people's efforts. Has humanity reached a impenetrable ceiling in terms of progress or is something too entangled within humanity's core for them to escape their self-made hell?
Discrimination, poverty, ludicrously high crime rates, wealth gaps, censorship, avarice, climbing suicide rates, and political corruption run rampant beneath the dream-like guise of social betterment and redemption, despite what politicians might tell you. The American dream still prevails, but it's all dolled up in endless flowers.
Does anyone actually wish for life to get better or do they only wish to play the part? Humans do prefer the paths with the least resistance, after all.

Speaking of life, the Universe may or may not be on its last legs. The human experience and reality itself feels like they're breaking themselves apart, like a puppet theatre on fire; the absolute destruction of a simulacrum, the end of a parody, a satire fragmenting itself out of existence. Seems to be a good thing, really.
These… anomalies of reality gave way to what people would refer to as an era of supers: morally ambiguous (at best) vigilantes with superhuman abilities battling each other in the name of crime-fighting. Strangely, Nouvelle-Yorke seems to be full of these guys, but its crime rate is still increasing by the second. Maybe they're not actually doing much in the long run.

A socially inept recluse gets bitten by a weird spider in the middle of his suicide attempt and, with this second chance at life, decides to become one of these supers. Slowly, he comes to realize vigilantism comes with much, much, much more baggage than he thought it would, but he's too deep into the world of supers to back out now.
Cynical, pissed, and exhausted beyond all else, he grapples with his crumbling facsimile of a reality through the power of violence.

…And love, if you squint, maybe.