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***
- So, Mary?
Trying to bring my girlfriend back from the abyss of memories.
I thought that was my thing.
- Excuse me? - The redhead finally responds.
- Do you think Fey will agree to live with us? After all, we told her about my identity a few days before we left, do you think she had time to digest it? - I ask doubtfully.
Carrot only smiles.
- Believe me, Tiger, Cat has dealt with the shock.
- Oh yeah, how could I forget that you two are such friends now," I roll my eyes.
Even though I was in favour of my girlfriend's and partner's communication, I was supposed to be a direct participant.
In the end, the ladies decided everything on their own, as always. And then they say something about patriarchy...
I knew that without my control there would be unforeseen...let's call them disasters. Take MJ and Fey's fight, after the inadvertently mentioned kiss between me and Cat.
Mary gave me such a hard time about it.
And she knew I had nothing to do with it.
Brrrrr.
Then they reconciled and after a night out at Felicia's, for some reason, they became very close.
But then Carrot-top told me about the training. And I realised. Cat must have heard about the Watson family situation and decided to train the green-eyed girl.
I'm glad. My partner may not have superpowers, but she's got great skills. And I don't mind the girls hanging out. It's good for me.
- Don't be jealous," MJ kissed me on the nose, "but tell me, what are your plans for today?
- Well," I raise my eyes to the ceiling, "I'm done with the Shield internship for the next week, so I'm going to take care of my schoolwork and the lab project, because Dr Connors has been asking me to take on the responsibilities of a senior lab technician for a long time, and Gwen promised to help me with my research.
- Good luck, then, and I have to go," the redhead kissed me as she changed and brightened up.
- When did you have time to get dressed?
- If you're going to be late as often as I am, you'll learn to be late too.
- No, thank you.
Another difference from Prime Parker, I hated being late.
- Good luck to your future design luminary," I wave goodbye.
The girl shows her tongue in return, but sends a kiss just before she leaves.
Oh, well, it's time to get ready myself.
I put on a suit, and over a slightly baggy sweatshirt and hoodie, as well as jeans. Over the months I've managed to strike the perfect balance between clothes that quietly conceal the suit and style meets comfort.
Habitually putting my father's research into my rucksack, I hurry off to university.
*
An hour later.
New York University.
I run into the auditorium five minutes before class starts.
- Once again, Mr Parker," said Curt Connors, smiling.
- You know, Doc, it's not my policy to be late," I take my usual seat against the wall.
A familiar one, because the others are occupied.
- Oh, are they? - Connors asks with a raised eyebrow.
- Do I swear I'll be in the lab all day today? - I flap my eyes innocently.
- I hope so. - So, the topic of the lecture is "Symbiosis," Kurt began to say.
What's the best part of being a freshman? And no, not the college girls, or I'll get chewed out by mine... the main perk is they don't fuck you up as much, unless you're a medic, of course. So I could ignore certain subjects to keep up with everything.
Although I didn't skip Latin, I liked it too much.
But I'd sacrifice cultural studies or sociology without hesitation.
I still have heroism, plus a permanent job in Bogle, where I achieved considerable results, because, finally, the reorientation to the existence in the Internet sphere affected my publishing house.
Oh, that's where I accelerated. Almost single-handedly created a Bugle website from an old page that's older than I am. It was a long job, but even Jameson was pleased, putting me in charge of web design and doubling my salary. Now he only sends me on film if it's something important, like a presidential speech.
Until recently, the Shield internship took up the lion's share of my time, but at least there I could devote time to personal research, like improving equipment. Again, thank you, Nick Fury, for letting your future warlords use Shield resources like a cheap hooker. Okay, I'm lying. Not that cheap.
The truth and successes raise further questions.
Tombstone.
Since the Green Goblin event, we've had parity. He sends me a list of his top operations, I don't get in the way, he sends me information on his competitors, mostly Kingpin, I get the money.
Plain and simple. Hundreds of thousands of quid on the road, and you have to pay for school, not to mention the flat, which is where all the savings from Tombstone and Shields went. As it turns out, the Mafia pays more than the government.
As if that wasn't obvious enough.
Oh, and the info on Fisk was pretty damn useful. As it turns out, Electro's his main bodyguard, and I have an old beef with Iscorca.
But lately, I'd realised that working for Bigman.... wasn't really my thing. Yes, he was fulfilling his agreements, but keeping him in place wouldn't change anything, and Bugle's salary and Shield's pay, which will definitely increase after I become a full-fledged agent, might not allow me to buy yachts, but I won't be in need. Plus, I have a future in the scientific field, and the salaries there aren't negligible either.
Anyway, thank you for sponsoring me to buy a flat in New York, Mr Lincoln, but as soon as I'm done with Kingpin, you're next.
Between classes, I studied my father's notes as usual. It was much more interesting than socialising with my classmates, half of whom had been shoved here by their well-to-do parents and the other half of whom were typical future academic snobs.
In the end, Gwen was the only remaining friend from high school who was at least in New York. Miles went to MIT, so now we're 218 miles apart. And Harry, after the story of Norman moving to Europe, went after his father.
Amusingly, the CEO of Oscorp in the US was Harry's mother, replacing her husband.
Sounds to me like Osborne is on to something though. He couldn't leave his "empire", and Oscorp, with its "reorientation" to the European market, lost influence. Left without a head, who was a true shark of business, the company was quickly moved by competitors. The same Stark and Roxon. Goblin's not gonna let that go.
Except... Goblin?
I expected Norman's move to make Green disappear, except he didn't. The laughing madman continued to flit about the city, the last of his activities, which Spider interrupted, was the formation of new gangs of "Pumpkinheads".
The Spider didn't succeed in bringing this gang down, so now it's one of the many gangs on the streets of the city.
Except it's too small for the Goblin.
I tried to track him down to no avail, but always the enemy slipped away.
So I decided that when the enemy returns, and he will, I'll be ready, and let Gobby laugh while he can.
Except... Green had recently dropped off the radar. And it was right after Harry moved in.
That's when I really got to thinking, what if it was the younger Osborne who was destined to become a Goblin? That would explain the gang, too, too small a goal for Norman, but enough for Harry's ambition. What if my friend was taking something that made him a Goblin, and the drug worked, changing his personality?
Of course, the possibility that Norman had hired Chameleon to cover his identity was too tempting, but no matter how genius you were, it was impossible to teach an ordinary mercenary not only to behave like you, but also to manage a large corporation like a brilliant scientist and businessman. And this was the only option left, given that Norman was in Europe, and Goblin in America.
I tried to follow the changes in Oscorp particularly closely.
Once again, my worst enemy was without a face. Just guesses.
*
Later, after my studies.
- This is how the quartz matrix splits," the beautiful blonde continued her introductory lecture to the trainees from the schools.
Suddenly the door to the lab opened.
- Whew, I made it! - announced the whole room with a panting brown-haired man.
- Well, guys, we'll continue this another time, but in the meantime, take a look at the equipment," Miss Stacey finished her instructions.
- By the look of you, I'm going to be sick now, aren't I?
- For once, Mr Parker, you could have given me an introductory lecture," Gwen folded her arms under her breasts.
- It's not my job.
The girl's formidable face made Pete put up his hands in a defensive gesture and step away.
- Only," the girl jabbed her finger, "because Dr Connors doesn't think you're ready for that kind of responsibility, even though you're a senior lab technician like me.
- What can I say, I don't pay enough attention to the lab," Parker shrugged, moving with the girl toward the experiment room.
- Seriously, Pete, how are you going to become a scientist if you're practically never here?
- I'm glad you're worried, Gwendy, but I still have four more years of study to do.
- Okay," the blonde agreed with the argument, rolling her eyes. - So what are you going to work on?
- Doc and I have developed a drug that is supposed to remove all alien factors from the organism of the recepient. It could solve the problem of many genetic diseases. Too bad it's still a work in progress.
- Wow, what's the name? - The girl asked with glowing eyes.
- The Gene Purifier, - Pete proudly announced, - and now, if you'll excuse me.
- I'm going, I'm going.
Leaving the lab, Parker pulled out his father's notes, which could significantly help advance his project.
***
Meanwhile.
Dr Miles Warren.
He was working in his lab, having informed his secretary that he wouldn't be seeing anyone today.
The science council was going to withdraw his funding due to his lack of progress on the cloning project.
"Idiots. What Idiots."
Miles pondered, clutching tightly in his hands the sample vial that was more valuable than any acknowledgement from those narrow-minded idiots.
Spider-Man's blood.
How fortunate that he'd planned to sneak into Connors' lab that night and "borrow" the reagents. But he got much, much more! Information that could not only save him, but a chance at greatness! What's the joke? To reproduce the abilities of a famous hero, the Nobel Prize would be the least of his regalia.
And then all those pseudo-scientists would bow down to him.
And she would take notice.
Warren pulled a sample bag out of his pocket and pulled out a small tuft of blonde hair, stroking it lovingly.
His infatuation with Miss Stacey had turned into an obsession. Miles had recognised this a long time ago, but decided to nurture it rather than fight it. He wanted this girl, why fight the urge?
Warren pulled the lucky ticket by breaking into Dr Crawford's lab and stealing the hero's last whole blood sample.
So little...
But it can be used. The key is to find a wealthy sponsor who can appreciate this ambitious project.
***
Orbit of Planet Earth.
Starship Solaris 1.
- Hey, John, how are you?
- I'm fine, Garyet," the astronaut rubbed his eyes, "I just can't wait to get home.
- Come on, this mission is our chance. If we make it through, next time we'll be sent to a lunar research base, imagine the prospects! - Jameson's partner threw up her hands in excitement.
- Let her first postr...
The blond man's phrase was interrupted by the sudden jerk of the ship.
- What was that?!
- Check for depressurisation?! - John went into business mode.
- Got it!
After a while, the astronauts found that all systems were normal.
- What do you think it was?
- Maybe some kind of space debris?
At that moment. The meteorite, which had bounced off solaris 1, began to hurtle towards the earth's exosphere.
***
Later this evening.
Peter Parker.
- Eh, good work," I say into the void of the lab, stretching.
It's nice to have an almost private space in the lab. Only Doc can come in here when he's experimenting, or Martha, but she has her own lab.
All right, that's enough for today.
After I'd written down the results of the study and put the report on Connors's desk, I rake up my father's notes, now supplemented by my own notes, and move to leave the lab.
It's late in the evening, so it looks like I'll be closing up tonight. Locking the lab doors shut, I walk across campus, moving towards the exit of the campus, aiming to exit by a single alleyway.
Once I've made my way out, I hide in the shadows and don my costume.
The Amazing Spider-Man takes off into the New York sky, swaying on two strands of webbing.
Great, now I'm going home for dinner and then I'm going to visit the Watson sisters. Should I buy some wine and cake?
I'm flying a couple hundred metres.
"I'll stay the night, check on Mae in the morning."
I bounce off the wall, changing direction.
My musings were interrupted by the ringing of Spider Sense.
Using my reaction, I dodged a bullet that flew right by me.
Changing trajectory, I jump to the roof.
The ringing repeats.
The sashes of two industrial air conditioners rose up. Several dozen needle projectiles shot sharply out of the mechanisms.
Pushing off the roof with my hands, I dodge with several jumps.
Hiding behind a pipe, I pick up one of the darts.
"Syringe? Poison."
I don't have time to consider what's going on before I hear a muffled gunshot from the opposite roof.
I duck and look up.
He's hiding in the shadows. I can't make it out.
Suddenly the gunman turns around and starts running.
"Well, no."
I shoot out a web and climb onto the roof. The sniper manages to break away, but I begin pursuit.
The enemy jumps over the roof and slows down. Apparently he's not used to what's happening. A professional would have been quicker.
A few metres away, I shoot a web and, grabbing the enemy's leg, pull him towards me. The shooter falls. The rifle falls out of his hands.
- All right, kid," I approach the overly calm enemy, "who are you?
I hold out my hand, but my instincts kick in.
I leap away from the projectile that flew at me.
"Bola?"
I look in amazement at the ancient South American Indian weapon tied to a television antenna.
Only one of Spider's enemies uses one of these.
While speculation was visiting my head, another actor appeared on the roof. He was dressed the same way as the sniper - in a dark set of clothes with the usual ski masks.
In his right hand he held a disc, with a swipe of it, the second opponent cut my web.
- Wow, you must have polished your tool well to cut like that.
At my teasing, the second only throws the disc in my direction. Calmly I dodge and fire the web, throwing away the rifle the freed gunman reached for.
In response, he approaches and tries to knee me. I dodge, deflecting my body slightly and grabbing his leg and throwing it towards the second opponent.
To my surprise, he calmly picks it up. Looks like their teamwork is on point.
The second pulls out two hunting knives and throws one to the first.
At the same time, the opponents approach me, methodically attacking me with their daggers.
I dodge, grabbing the right one's wrist, having to let go as the left one swipes his blade dangerously close.
"They're well trained."
Also in sync, the fighters kick me in the torso, pushing me backwards.
I land on four limbs in a spider stance.
My gut!
I jump back a second before the explosion.
The weights on the bloody wire were booby-trapped!
Another emanation causes me to jump up sharply after the explosion. The darts thrown by the two from the chest hit me where I fell.
- All right, you guys," I dodge the darts they keep spitting, "you're really starting to piss me off," I dodge, moving closer to my opponents. - I grab the last dart with two fingers and flick it away.
In response, a couple of them grab several strapped grenades.
I prepare to dodge, but they throw the projectiles underneath.
Smoke bombs.
A dense shroud hides the attackers.
Coughing, I rush forward, out of range.
I should invent an anti-gas filter for my mask.
As I recover from my disorientation, I notice that the duo is running towards a building with too many sheets on it.
Decided to resupply?
Clinging to the water tower, I fly after the fleeing opponents.
What's all the fuss about?
I'm reaching the right roof.
One of the attackers had run almost to the centre. The other one was holding some kind of device.
The first one grabbed a flute lying on a small pedestal.
A flute?
The opponent holding what appeared to be a remote control pressed a button.
The sheets began to rise, revealing a view of the cages.
The animals in them immediately began to growl and howl.
- Okay, I got it," I put my hands up, "Kraven! Where are you? Come on out!
The men looked at each other in confusion.
- Yeah, yeah, I know who's behind this. Call your leader.
I need to show him that if he's planning something, I'm ready.
There was only the whistle of a flute. The cages opened.
What I didn't expect was for two fucking leopards and two fucking tigers to turn in my direction and attack!
- Where the fuck do you get tame leopards and tigers?!
In response, the mercenaries watch with all eyes at the end of the roof.
The animals got too close and started trying to slash at me with their claws.
"Yeah, animals aren't people!"
I grab the tiger trying to take a big bite out of me by the fangs and throw it towards the nearest leopard.
The other two are circling me, waiting for the right moment.
But I won't give it to them.
I press a button on the web shooters. The mechanism closes the cartridge, switching the web release mode.
- This thing is powerful," I say, dodging a clawed paw, "even if it only lasts for a few shots.
I pressed the trigger mechanism, and a dense clot of web in the shape of a ball flew out of the throwers, which at the collision threw the leopard off and pinned it to the roof.
- A shock web, personally designed, but it's a nightmare," I commented, looking at the surprised fighters.
Now the animals are not so zealous in their attacks.
Noticing this, the guy with the flute began to trill again.
The pupils of the beasts narrowed and, completely disobeying the instinct of self-preservation, they again rushed to attack.
I dodge, but they don't slow down, barely managing to fire another clot of shock web at the tiger before I feel a sharp pain in my side.
The leopard got it after all.
I feel blood start to flow from the laceration.
My adrenaline is surging.
I grab the leopard that rushed at me and throw it at the last tiger.
While the animals are trying to come to their senses, I launch a final charge of shock web, which tightly binds the remaining representatives of the feline family.
While I have the chance, I lean lightly on one knee, bandaging the wound with the web.
"Either we need to come up with something more practical, or add antiseptic components. Otherwise, dressing with spider webs is becoming a habit."
The mercenaries, who had grabbed large guns, instead of attacking, turn around and, aiming, fire harpoons.
"Why aren't they trying to finish them off?"
Coming to my senses a little, I jump after them.
After a few blocks, I feel the adrenaline of the chase recede and the blood loss begins to feel more noticeable.
Finally, I shoot one of the mercenaries, just as it seems to be a sniper, and pull him towards me as hard as I can. He flies the distance, meeting my fist at the end. That hit is enough to take him out of the game. Time to add a little spider power. As long as I'm out of shape.
The wetness and sharpness in my side reminds me of the wound.
Despite the loss of his comrade, the second fighter pulls out the very knives, but stays where he is.
I rush towards him, and only a beeping instinct keeps me from the nets that would have easily pinned me to the roof.
- Have you booby-trapped the whole city?
And only silence was my answer.
I tried to reach for the enemy again as I caught the cable that activated the slingshot that threw the stones.
- That's a cheap trick," I said, dodging easily.
The enemy should answer nothing, because in the next second the taut rope shrinks sharply, igniting the fuses.
The bombs planted under the roof begin to explode.
The foundations shudder and the explosions only intensify.
That's when the fighter attacks me.
- Are you out of your mind?! Dude, the ground is literally shaking under our feet," I say, dodging the knife, "get it?
And once again, the ringing of the Sense.
What is it this time, a tornado?!
I jump away from the place where the bullet hits in a second.
I look up and see the shooter standing overhead.
There he is. In a hunting suit, with a lion skin waistcoat, looking menacing, gun in hand. Kraven the Hunter.
- I wondered when you'd turn up! - I shout to the enemy, dodging the blows of his six. - I've been waiting for you, Sergei!
If Kravinoff was surprised by my knowledge of Russian, he didn't show it and started aiming his rifle again.
I continue to fight with the mercenary, simultaneously retreating from the bursting zones and dodging lunges.
And then Kraven started a dense artillery bombardment as well.
"It's bad, the wound is bleeding, the web is running out, only thanks to my reflexes and sense of balance I'm still holding on, and I haven't even had time to fight the organiser of this bacchanalia!"
Having dodged a shot and another stabbing, I decided that enough was enough.
I rolled under the fighter's arm and, releasing my claws, struck, leaving deep cuts on the mercenary's back.
The fighter stumbles backwards from the sharp pain and falls into one of the holes in the roof. Fuck him.
I turn round to the main culprit of all this happening.
The foe on the roof only arrogantly beckons me with the palm of his hand.
"Don't give in. It's a provocation."
Completely unconcerned, I jump to the wall of the building and start running along the wall. I reach the roof, but Kraven is gone.
I hear a whistle nearby.
I turn around and see the hunter starting to run off into the distance.
"Okay, Sergei, if you want to play, we'll play."
I start the pursuit.
Literally every few metres different traps are triggered: a giant log falls down literally out of nowhere, then sharp stakes, 100% lubricated with paralytic poison, then a bear trap is triggered.
I can feel my strength starting to leave me.
All the traps are failing because I'm concentrating on my gut and only on it. I'm doing my best to ignore the wound. Otherwise I'll slow down.
Kraven is well prepared, I can tell you that.
I finally catch up with the hunter, who starts climbing up the Washington Bridge on the cables. I follow.
I meet my opponent on one of the suspension gates.
- I've seen you in battle. You were always holding back, treating everything like a game, and because of that you got wounds you could have avoided," Sergei said in the tone of a teacher reprimanding his student, turning away from looking at the Hudson.
- Believe me, I'm still in good shape.
You can't admit he's right. And he's just saying that to make me lose my cool.
- No, not at all," the hunter replies, arming himself with his spear.
"All right, I've had enough!"
I approach Kravinoff and try to strike, but he dodges. Before I can be surprised, he goes on the counterattack.
Too fast for a normal man, even a trained one.
I dodge his lunges.
Suddenly I'm distracted by a sharp rumble, and the sound of splashing, on the left side of the Hudson.
Spider Sense kicks in, but I'm already inhaling the powder that Kraven sprayed in my direction.
Exhausted in a fit of coughing.
"Poison or something paralytic, but my immune system should be able to handle it."
I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder.
- AHHHHHHHHHH!
The hunter pulled the spear out of my hand.
- When I studied you, I witnessed several battles. Back then you were nimble, formidable, almost invulnerable! - Sergei shouts, "Then why aren't you fighting back now?!
But I can't hear him at all.
My hand is burning, my eyes are blurred. The wound in my side has reopened. My legs are shaking.
Am I going to die?!
No!
I've done so much, survived so much!!!
AND I'M DEFINITELY NOT GONNA DIE AT THE HANDS OF A GUY IN LEOPARD TIGHTS!
I feel sparks at my fingertips. Warmth and energy spills over my body.
I put my arms out and direct a wave of bioelectricity towards Kraven.
"This should be enough."
I fall to my knees, wiping my eyes.
- Admittedly...unexpected.
- No...
A virtually unhurt Kravinoff shakes off his waistcoat.
- You are indeed a worthy opponent, harbouring many surprises, if not for my potions, this your....electricity would have knocked me out.
I tune in for another flash.
- No," the hunter approaches and exhales more poisonous powder.
His body becomes quite heavy and his energy fades.
- Now I see you're fighting at the limit of your strength, - Sergey grabs Spider by the throat, - I've been preparing for many months and you didn't let me down, it's been a long time since I've been on such a glorious hunt.
Kravinov lifts the hero and pulls him above his head.
- Farewell my victim and good luck to you in another life, Spider spirit bearer!
Giving his final speech, Kraven threw the hero's barely breathing body off the bridge.
***
The bottom of the Hudson River.
He awoke from his long wandering, not realising what was happening. The space around him appeared to be dragging.
Suddenly there was a splash right above him. Something was fast approaching. Suddenly he felt a pull towards this object.
Power emanated from it, and Symbiote reached for it like a moth to the light of a lamp, with a single thought.
"Unity."
***
Kraven stood on the bridge for a while, and after making sure his victim had not surfaced, withdrew.
========== Chapter 43. In the Black ==========
Late Night.
Hudson Bay.
Peter Parker.
His awakening was abrupt and painful.
- PX-XA-XA-XA-XA-XA-XA-XA-XA-XA-XA...
Peter came to, coughing up water. His shoulder and side were burning, he could feel everything floating.
Unable to stand it, the guy quickly lifted his mask and vomited up a stream of vomit and bile.
- Damn, it's been a long time since I've felt this bad," the hero muttered in between panting.
Shaking his head, the guy freezes.
"Kraven! Did that bastard throw me off a bridge?!"
Crouching down on the bank Pete looked around incredulously.
"I was carried ashore? But how? The current..."
Suddenly his side ached again.
"It'll be all right later. The wound could open up at any moment."
We should go home. Get some rest.
*
An hour later.
Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson's flat.
Peter Parker.
I'm doing my best to get into my flat. It's a risk, still, I'm usually quicker with the climbs, but I'm not paranoid right now.
Without even taking off my mask, I collapse onto the couch, falling instantly into slumber.
*
I open my eyes, finding myself in a dark and empty space. It feels like all the light is concentrated on me, and all around me is darkness.
I walk forward, feeling nothing at all. Suddenly, a grey door appears in the impenetrable darkness. I open it and go inside.
A dirty, almost ruined room grows around me.
I don't have time to make sense of it, but I hear a terrible noise coming from the street.
I run outside and can't believe my eyes.
There are two multi-kilometre long entities struggling in something like a city. One looks like a flattened and elongated version of my spider suit, and the other like an all-black flat, ink-shaped shadow.
Completely without noticing me, the two giants collide, clutching hands in a struggle. The red and blue one grabs the black one, and throws him into the building. He falls. The flattened one approaches, but suddenly the inky one wriggles out of the way and, like a snake, begins to squeeze his opponent.
Lifting Red-Blue above his head, the shadow tosses the one to the side. The giant, in the process of falling, catches the wires and the space is flooded with flashes of electrical discharges.
Finally, the Shadow notices me.
Its head turns into the likeness of my mask and reaches for me with its huge paws.
On instinct, I start to run away, but the inky one catches up in a second. Suddenly I feel pressure. The shadow has grabbed me.
The giant starts to pull me towards him, but suddenly his hand is grabbed by the waking Red-Blue.
A tug of war begins between the monsters. With me in the centre.
Eventually Black ends up punching Flattened and he flies off to the side.
I end up in the clutch of Inky, who swallows me.
*
I open my eyes sharply and look at myself in the reflection of an office building window, hanging upside down.
I'm wearing the Black Suit.
***
Late night.
15 April 2013.
One of the Green Goblin's secret hideouts.
Norman Osborn.
Back at the base, Norman jumps off the Glider and, tiredly, plops into a chair.
He's exhausted, terribly tired.
And it's all the fault of Spider-Man.
The thought of the enemy immediately fuelled the fire of hatred in Osborn.
At last, after so many months of preparation, he was ready to declare himself as the Green Goblin, that day was to be the day of his triumph!
All the figures had gathered in one place, the Mayor and the cream of New York society on one side and Tombstone and Kingpin as representatives of crime on the other.
His lightning attack was to demonstrate that a new force was emerging in the city, ready to sweep away the old order. He's a representative of a new approach. Not a dumb-headed gangster, not a spineless rich man, not a helpless scientist, - the best of these hypostases is him! Strong, Smart, Affluent. That should have elevated him.
But then came the Spider.
And at that moment Norman, or rather the Goblin, felt nothing but anticipation. At last he would face the man he had long sought. Face to face. And the boy did not let him down. He was strong, agile, fast, but he really showed off his talents when Osborn prevented Spidey from saving his girlfriend. An unexpected pulse of bioelectricity threw him off on another roof. As a scientist Norman was amazed, he didn't think this was even possible. It was also a point he would be sure to explore when he captured Spidey.
And yet one factor. One factor alone ruined the Goblin's grand plans.
The boy knew who he was under the mask.
Norman had foreseen even this outcome.
When he discovered the Chameleon sent by Fisk, he decided fate was on his side. The billionaire easily bought the mercenary Kingpin had sent to sniff out Oscorp's secrets, and sent him to the meeting in his own name.
But when Spider gave his name, Chameleon had to be rushed to Europe on a private flight.
His plan to cleanse his own identity must work. He had bet too much on it.
Oscorp had been squeezed in the American market; in the eyes of the average person, the company had lost little, for it was still in the top five. But in the eyes of the businessman it was a terrible blow, which he will have to correct for a long time after coming out of the shadows.
Monitoring the European market was taking up the little energy he had left. Chameleon was a fine actor. A perfect copy of him, until when his mouth needed to be opened for business. For as a businessman and a face-changing scientist, the mercenary was simply mediocre.
His Gambit wouldn't have worked if it hadn't been for Norman's best investment in years.
Dr Otto Octavius.
When Osborn had taken Octavius to the naval base at the bottom of the East River, he'd effectively tied him to that place, turning him into a recluse. Blago Otto was too obsessed with revenge and the desire to re-engage in activities worthy of his genius to take notice.
And yet the doctor had his honour.
When, during one of their many discussions, Norman had mentioned his difficulties, Octavius had provided him with his own personal development - brain stimulants, which enabled the recipient to stay awake for twenty-four hours and work at the limits of his intellectual capacity, with the disadvantage that they posed the threat of terrible addiction. It is not known whether Octavius wished to turn his employer into a willless drug addict or simply did not pay attention to the disadvantages because of his own fanatical scientist stubbornness?
But it didn't matter either way. Thanks to the regeneration given by Green Globulin, he was in no danger of addiction, although the doses of the gas he took had to be increased.
Because now Norman could easily monitor the activities of his protégé in Europe, almost every minute. Chameleon only had to open his mouth and say clever words.
But it was not enough! Bound by all these problems, Osborne could only start organising his personal criminal gang, the Pumpkinheads, in order to have the strength to seize territory in the event of a gang war.
He spent months preparing equipment written off from Oskorp's private security, setting up Goblin bases all over New York, out of old centres, building a whole network of tunnels in sewers and subways.
But all to no avail!
Because Spider was fanatically tracking him, as if seeking to solve an important problem for himself. In a second he had knocked out all the sprouts Ozborn had carefully planted. The Pumpkinheads, from a force to rival the Tombstone Syndicate and the Kingpin Empire, had become just another pathetic gang in South Harlem!
A terrible disgrace. As soon as Norman gets back, he'll burn out every one of these wimps and reform the Pumpkinheads.
Maybe he should hire some Private Military Company troops.
But now he needed something radically new, something that could even the score between him and Spider.
Once again, Otto came to his aid and a completely unexpected contact.
Octavius himself wanted revenge on the Weaver, for he had not forgotten who had defeated him after his release and thanks to whom he could have been imprisoned rather than in my service. Octavius suggested something interesting called the Sinister Six, Osborn gave the go-ahead. The more distractions Spidey got, the more time he'd have.
It was the second proposal, though, that initially stumped Norman.
One of his email addresses had received a letter from one "Dr Miles Warren".
The very fact that he had been able to write to Osborne said only this: he was either a businessman, a scientist, or had influential friends.
Information about this subject could be found at once: Dr Miles Warren, so a scientist, an expert on cloning, a professor at New York University, has several worthy awards, and is the author of some entertaining articles. A genius in his field. But in addition to his reputation as a scientist, his personal reputation was also rather tarnished. There are rumours of his frequent sexual liaisons with female students, and not always consensual. Warren was hot-tempered, arrogant and ambitious.
Not an uncommon mix for a scientist.
At first, Norman thought he'd just ignore the email, because the subject line said "Investments."
But curiosity got the better of him at the time. Although there were dozens of scientists writing to Osborne on the subject of sponsorship.
Norman began to study the letter and by the middle of it he began to feel irritation, as if the professor wanted to get nothing, having started to describe his achievements and regalia. It was obvious that the scientist was not familiar with the main rule of business - brevity and substance.
But when he got to the main point, the opinion began to change. Miles wrote about his idea, which can change the scientific community, turn the idea of cloning, with such fanaticism write only true geniuses in their field. Alas, Norman himself was far from it.
But when Osborne reached the key paragraph, he jumped out of his chair. The little prick was claiming that he was not going to use random genetic material as an object, but a rare sample of blood, of which he had very little.
Spider-Man's blood.
How a lousy university professor got hold of what Norman himself wanted more than anything else in the world, God only knows. Osborne had thought to dismiss it as impossible.
But in his obsession with the Spider, he couldn't throw the chance out the window, however ghostly.
So it was up to the Goblin to visit the Professor.
But first, a rest.
***
Shortly before the Golden Hour.
City.
Peter Parker/Spider-Man.
My breath hitches and lines from the distant past flicker in the periphery of my mind:
"Tell me something, Parker, why are you hanging fifteen stories high, at night, in a suit you've never worn before?"
But the slight breeze of nostalgia is interrupted by a storm of realisation.
SYMBIOT! THIS IS SYMBIOT!
Jumping off the thread, I cling to the reflective surface and examine myself.
Unlike the representations, the suit isn't shiny or slimy, giving away nothing of its alien origin, it's matte, uniformly matt with the classic mark on the chest and marks on the outside of the palms*
I turn towards the building and, before I can think, cobwebs fly out of the marks.
As if by itself. Instinctively.
"Has the Symbiote already started interacting with my system!"
All later!
Swinging on the web, to my own stupor I swing over the building instead of just flying alongside it. And now, after the shock that had passed, I was beginning to feel it.
Power. Power spreading through my muscles. Feeling the regeneration speeding up, healing my wounds.
An intoxicating feeling. But I can't let it cloud my judgement.
My first reaction is to fly to a place that's often on my flight paths around the city, both recreational and patrol.
St Paul's Church.
It is in the west of the centre, but the most important thing for me is the huge bell at the top of the tower.
During the flights to the church, it never ceases to amaze me how fast we move compared to my normal state, it feels like the suit is enhancing my standard abilities.
Maybe it is, though, isn't it?
Twenty minutes into the flight, an astonishing speed of movement, I'm clinging to the wall of a stone building. Calmly I crawl upwards and reach the bell tower.
A plain building, three 'windows' surrounding the bell and separated by stone pillars, a door at the back leading into the walls of the church.
I aim my wrists at the door and release several metres of webbing, sealing the only entrance upstairs.
I repeat the same action with the windows.
It becomes completely dark inside. It's like being in a spider cocoon.
But now, there's no way out.
"I must act quickly, before the Symbiote learns to sense my intentions or, for goodness sake, read my mind."
The hero approached the bell.
"When did he even get a hold of it! Could it really....rek! Could an alien have saved me after the fall!"
No! Can't be distracted.
I check the space, making sure once again that the Symbiote will definitely have nowhere to escape to and prepare to hit the bell.
But suddenly a thought strikes my head. Quiet, exhorting, but definitely not belonging to the alien, but to me.
"Why?"
That's what it sounded like.
"Why get rid of such a useful acquisition? Why make a mortal enemy for nothing, one that will hate you for eternity? Why repeat such a mistake?"
And really, why?
The Symbiote hasn't fully interacted with me yet, but I know it's not just a suit, it's a living organism.
And I also know how the Klyntars get attached to their hosts, and that their love can turn into deadly hatred. And vice versa.
After standing with my fist raised for a moment longer, I decide to step back and sit next to the wall. I sit in lotus pose and clear my mind, trying to make contact with the Stranger.
"Um...hello? Can you hear me?"
No effect.
"Can you hear me but don't want to answer, or do you want to but can't?"
Again, nothing.
Maybe he hasn't learnt to speak human yet.
"Okay, let's go like this, yes and no. Do you understand me?"
Silence, but after a few minutes there is a thud in his head.
"Yes."
Shock, natural shock, I even jumped up on the spot. Still, hearing a voice in my head, and not a contrived one, but a very real one, it's still frightening.
"Class.... you can't fully communicate, as you don't speak the language at a sufficient level yet, but you can answer one-word answers?"
"Yes."
So good, good, good, the rapport is building.
"Are you an enemy?"
"No."
And after I answer that, I can feel the resentment flooding through the suit.
But I should have checked, right?
"How long will it take you to learn human speech to form thoughts?"
"How long?"
There was a questioning tone this time.
"A day, two days?"
"No."
"Three days?"
"Yes."
What an entertaining conversation we're having, though.
"Super. Um...hell there are still a lot of questions, but it's probably best to put them off until you're a full-fledged conversationalist, right?"
"Yeah."
Another one-word answer, but I somehow, directly sense Symbiote's snide tone.
With a sigh, I rise.
Nothing to do, we'll deal with the issues as they come up.
I tear through one of the spiderweb walls and fly out.
***
Five o'clock in the morning.
16 April 2013.
New York University.
Dr Miles Warren.
Miles waddled sleepily to his office, busily devouring a second helping of strong black coffee. The scientist had spent another sleepless night in his lab. And, as always in recent months, the cause of his insomnia was a blood sample, just making the professor realise all its mysteries.
Spider-Man's blood was genuine, he had discovered this as soon as he stole the vial from Dr Maria Crawford's lab. No other creature could have such rapid molecular division, extra strands in the DNA strand, or even the new proteins found in spider blood, but not in human blood.
Taking the sample apart into larger components, Miles began to realise what of all this endless biological wonder gave the Spider its powers and which part was responsible for each. For example, the chains that appeared were responsible for the strengthening of his muscles and the appearance of his amazing strength. Proteins could explain the ability to stick to surfaces.
Amazing. Just amazing.
Warren reached into his pocket and pulled out a bunch of keys. Unlocking the lock, he went inside his office.
As the man took off his lab coat, he heard a voice:
- Good morning, Dr Warren.
The sound coming from the side of his desk startled Miles, he even dropped his coffee glass.
- Who are you?! A student? You're in trouble, young man! - began to speak in a menacing voice, the professor.
But as soon as the speaker turned round, the doctor had to choke on his own words.
Behind his desk sat, hands folded in a lock, a man in a purple and green suit, looking at him with terrible yellow eyes.
This was the criminal who had attacked the Oscorp fundraiser a year and a half ago.
The Green Goblin.
- Wh-wh-wh-what do you-what do you-what do you want? - A frightened Miles couldn't even utter a sentence properly.
- Calm down, Doctor, breathe, - the supervillain said with a slightly bent laugh, - I'm not after your soul. Or rather... not for its release from the body, - laughed the Goblin looking at the grey-haired Miles.
- Can I help you? - Warren asked, gathering all his small resolve and will into a fist.
- While checking my Goblin networks, I came across some interesting information that you supposedly possess a blood sample of an arthropod spiderweb, is that true? - Norman stood up from the table and asked a question.
- How do you know that? - said the professor in shock.
"He doesn't even deny it out of fright," thought Norman.
- Oh, I know everything that is not transmitted by special encryption codes," Osborne began to ramble, "and your e-mail was definitely not that kind of information," replied the criminal, putting his hands behind his back.
- What do you want? - Miles asked, starting to move towards the door.
Suddenly, the Goblin raised his palm and, folding his fingers into a "pistol", fired a shock charge at the door behind Warren, slightly melting the doorknob.
- Don't make any hasty decisions, Miles," the supervillain said to the newly frightened scientist, "I want to give you a chance to realise your ambitious project.
- I'm sorry? - The shocked professor asked again.
- Alas, I'm not an expert in cloning, but I admit that what you described in your letter to Norman Osborne sounds very....much promising.
Warren, on the other hand, was in a stupor. Appreciation for his deeds was always warming, even coming from the mouth of a deranged criminal.
- It is very flattering, but I am not sure that you will be able to....support my research, - said the professor with inexplicable courage.
In response, the Goblin only laughed as if he had never heard anything funnier in his life.
- Believe me, Doctor, I can get as much money for your research as a rich man like Osborn would. Even better," said the smiling villain, approaching the professor, "I'll give you an equipped facility and unlimited resources.
- And in return?
- Don't be silly, Professor, of course I want you to breed Spider clones," Ozborn said as a matter of course.
Warren felt his own arrogance and arrogance rising.
- But I was going to use it to achieve new milestones in the scientific world, not to produce a biological superweapon for the needs of someone specific.
"Well, except for your own."
The Goblin stopped in front of Warren and lost his cheerfulness.
Abruptly grabbing the scientist by the shirt, the villain lifted him to the ceiling.
- 'You don't seem to understand, Professor, this is neither a request nor an offer, you will accept or I will take the sample and find someone to do it for you.
"Otto should have enough time."
- Nonsense! No one has the proper knowledge of this field, only me!
And alas, it was true. But Norman has to convince the arrogant professor that he's replaceable.
- Perhaps you have heard that there are no irreplaceable people, Professor? - said the Goblin, grabbing the scientist by the throat.
- Yes-even for me, it can take years! What to speak of others! - wheezed the Professor. And in his tone, horror mixed with the righteous rage of an offended genius.
A good combination.
The villain let go of the scientist who had grabbed his throat.
- You are right, Professor, but I am still your best chance and my threats are not transparent, - Ozborn said seriously looking at his interlocutor. - But let's not talk about sad things, accept my offer, start working, and if you don't....
Miles didn't need to explain anything.
The scientist rubbed his neck in thought. He didn't want to become an errand boy, but he had no choice.
- All right, I'll take it, Warren makes a deal.
- That's great! - clapped his hands Goblin, - I have already written the coordinates of the place where you should come after work.
- How.... thoughtful.
- I had a feeling you'd agree," Osborn said.
Pressing the transmitter in his glove Gobby walked to the window.
- Don't be late, Professor," Norman crossed the window frame and landed on the Glider that had flown him away from the University.
***
Morning.
16 April.
Rikers Prison.
Roland Gein.
Waking up in his cell at the guards' command, Rol prepared himself for another lousy day in the SHU. For the second year, he and his sister are serving their time at Rikers.
Except Roxy's in the women's section.
What a bad time for their powers to go awry.
Roland and Roxanne Gein were twins born and raised in the heart of New York City. Unfortunately, their lives had been lived in the suburbs, which belonged to the centre only nominally. All their childhood and youth was spent under the totally inattentive and indifferent supervision of their whore mother, who changed men almost every day.
Roland had to constantly fight in the street to protect his sister. Roxy grew up even faster than he did and they quickly showed that it was better not to mess with the Guynes twins.
But the most amazing thing happened on their sixteenth birthday. And, no, it wasn't their first time since confessing their mutual feelings. Though he'd never tell his sister that. That night, after they both had orgasms at the same time, the twins began to hear each other's thoughts.
At first they thought their abnormal lives had finally driven them insane, but no. They could actually hear each other's thoughts.
Of course, the Gaines were shocked, but quickly decided to test and see how extensive their new abilities were.
First and foremost, they tried to find out the limits of their own connection. It turned out that the further Roxy and Rol got from each other, the weaker their connection became. Within five kilometres, they could no longer hear each other.
The next thing the twins tested was, could they hear other people's thoughts? No matter how Roxanne and Roland tried, they couldn't.
But then the older Guyn decided to test another theory, could they inspire their own thoughts?
Her sister had always been smarter than Rol.
They started their experiment with the school bully, Spike Milligan. He was a thick-headed jock and should have been an easy target.
He was. Spike got angry when Rol kicked him and started to run away, in the schoolyard Roxanne and Roland simultaneously ordered him to stop and he obeyed without question.
They then tortured the poor guy for a long time until they had had enough. The most amazing thing was that when they ordered him not to say anything about what had happened, he obeyed, and from then on he looked at the twins with undisguised horror.
The Hynes then made it harder on themselves by upping the ante and eventually reached their PE, but when the man started grabbing his head, they stopped. Mr Chap was a former Marine. The twins then realised that the stronger the subject's will, the harder it was for them to influence him.
As the years passed, so did the skills of the Guynes. And then, in their twenties, the twins' cup of patience burst.
One of their mother's suitors started hitting on Roxanne. And, most disgustingly, their stoned mother didn't mind at all:
"Roland, go take a walk, your mother and sister need to take care of Jimmy."
That's what she said then.
Of course, Roxy as well as Rol were angry. They let all their hatred come out for the first time and sent a single stream of thought into the head of the drug dealer's mother's lover - "Kill her."
Jimmy immediately stopped pestering Roxanne and lunged at their mother, starting to strangle her, the Guynes were filled with gloating anticipation, but for a drug dealer the man had a very strong will. Perhaps he felt something for their mother and ordering her murder was excessive, or maybe Roxy and Rol just never had control over someone at such an emotional moment. The fact is, Jimmy was out of control.
He was surprised and furious about what happened and lunged at Roland. Their mother was also shocked and ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife.
Perhaps the attack and the excessive amount of drugs in her blood had damaged her critical thinking and instead of attacking the man who had recently strangled her and was now beating her son, she decided that the right thing to do was to attack her daughter.
Roxanne managed to push her mother and wrestle the weapon from her hands. Grabbing the knife, her sister immediately ran to her brother's aid and stabbed Jim several times with lightning speed.
Roland broke free and, taking the knife from his sister, finished the bastard off, stabbing him a dozen more times.
And that's when the Guynes realised what had happened.
Perhaps if they'd had time, they would have managed to get rid of the bodies and cover up all traces of the crime, but unfortunately, after the screams and sounds of a struggle began, their kind-hearted neighbour Mrs Feagle called the police.
Old hag.
The police had already broken down the door and caught them in this position.
The twins could have tried to influence the police, but there were three of them, and Guyne couldn't control more than one.
They were arrested and given fifteen years each.
That's how they ended up at Rikers. Except they didn't lose their main advantage. Brother and sister could still hear each other perfectly well, and even learnt to influence the minds of others. And it worked, weakly, but it worked.
The telepathic twins weren't about to spend the best years of their lives in prison.
Roxanne had a plan.
***
A lab in the middle of New York City.
Spencer Smythe.
The robotics genius had spent many months preparing drones at the behest of his employer, Wilson Fisk. Ambala.
He found himself indebted to the King of Crime after he paid for the medical treatment of Spencer's son Alistair. Although he was left crippled, at least he survived. And Spencer didn't need more than that.
- Father, everything's ready," Alistair said, checking the software data that had been entered.
The son was like his father in intelligence.
- Well done, son.
- When did he give the order to act?
- We'll send observers tomorrow and release her then," Spencer answered, covering his
mechanical creature with a sheet.