Norman Osborn's office overlooked New York from the upper floors of Oscorp Tower. Beyond the massive glass windows, the city seemed tiny. Inside, the atmosphere was calm, almost icy.
Seated behind his desk, Norman reviewed several technical files. Confidential blueprints, biological schematics, and encrypted data scrolled across the screens surrounding him. His face remained expressionless and focused.
Then the door suddenly burst open.
Tombstone entered with heavy steps, his eyes filled with anger. Behind him, Hammerhead awkwardly tried to hold him back.
— Calm down, boss! Don't do anything stupid! he called out anxiously.
— Get out of my way, Hammerhead! Tombstone growled without slowing down.
Norman slowly raised his eyes toward his visitors.
— Oh... Hello, gentlemen. How have you been? It's been a while.
Norman's politeness only fueled Tombstone's anger further.
— Enough games, Osborn. I've been patient and respectful with you.
Norman tilted his head slightly.
— How so?
— Don't play dumb. Without me, you don't have any test subjects for your experiments. We had a deal: I deliver subjects, and you create mercenaries capable of eliminating that damn spider.
His voice grew harsher with every word.
— The result? Four of your creations have failed. My business is suffering because of it. More and more people are refusing to work for me, and my profits are dropping, so...!
Norman immediately interrupted him.
— You know... just because some of my creations have failed doesn't mean they are permanent failures.
His tone remained calm, almost academic.
— It all depends on your perspective. Perhaps they aren't weak... Perhaps Spider-Man is simply too strong. Especially when they're alone or only working in pairs.
Tombstone narrowed his eyes.
— What are you getting at?
Norman let out a small sigh.
— It's actually very simple.
A brief silence followed.
— If one or two aren't enough... then an entire team might be.
Hammerhead looked back and forth between the two men.
Tombstone stood motionless for a few seconds before understanding.
— Was this your plan from the beginning? You had already thought all of this through?
— No.
Norman gently shook his head.
— To be honest, Spider-Man surprised me just as much as he surprised you. I thought one or two mercenaries would be enough. Clearly, I was mistaken.
— So... what's your plan?
Norman slowly rose from his chair.
With his hands behind his back, he began pacing across the room.
— It's actually quite simple.
He paused briefly.
— We create two new super-mercenaries. They fight Spider-Man.
He raised two fingers.
— Two possibilities. Either they win, and everything ends here.
Then he lowered one finger.
— Or they lose and end up in prison.
Norman stopped directly in front of Tombstone.
An unsettling smile appeared on his face.
— And that's when the real plan begins.
Tombstone remained silent.
— We organize the escape of every enhanced individual we've already created. Shocker. Scorpion. Rhino. Sandman. And the two newcomers.
His gaze darkened.
— Six superhuman individuals united as a single team.
Even Hammerhead looked impressed by the idea.
— Boss... honestly, that makes sense. If one or two aren't enough, six of them should be able to crush him.
Tombstone remained cautious.
— And how exactly do you plan on getting them out? I assume you've already thought that part through?
— Of course.
Norman returned to his usual calm demeanor.
— Leave that to me.
He adjusted his tie.
— It only takes one escaped prisoner to create chaos. After that, everything else will unfold naturally.
He looked Tombstone directly in the eyes.
— All you'll have to do is watch Spider-Man die.
A long silence followed.
Eventually, Tombstone nodded.
— Fine.
Norman slowly nodded back.
— However, I should warn you.
He walked back toward his desk.
— Operations like this have a tendency to spiral out of control. There will be unforeseen consequences. I suggest you think carefully before moving forward.
His lips curled into a subtle smile.
— Consider that a piece of advice between... associates.
Tombstone remained completely cold.
— I don't care about the consequences, Osborn.
The hatred in his voice was unmistakable.
— As long as that insect dies.
Norman said nothing.
But beneath his composed exterior, a strange light gleamed in his eyes.
After a few seconds, Tombstone turned around.
— Let's go, Hammerhead. No point sticking around to watch them create their next monsters. As long as Spider-Man is eliminated, I don't care what Osborn does.
Hammerhead immediately followed his boss.
— Yes, boss.
The door closed behind them.
Silence returned to the office.
Norman remained standing for several moments, motionless, gazing out over the city through the glass windows.
Then a faint smile appeared on his face.
A smile far more unsettling than the one he had shown Tombstone.
As if he knew something that no one else knew yet.
New York — Parker Residence — End of the Day
The house was unusually quiet.
Taking advantage of his aunt's absence, Peter sat in his room, leaning over his desk. Spread out in front of him was his Spider-Man suit. Several tears ran through the red-and-blue fabric, souvenirs from his recent battles.
With a needle between his fingers, Peter was desperately trying to stitch it back together.
Without much success.
— Seriously... I don't understand how Aunt May does this.
He examined the uneven seam he had just made and grimaced.
— I've watched her do it, she explained everything to me... but I just can't do it.
A frustrated sigh escaped him.
For nearly two hours, he had been trying to repair his suit.
And the results were disastrous.
— I guess I have to accept that there are some things I'm just not meant for...
At that moment, the doorbell rang throughout the house.
Peter immediately looked up.
— Huh?
He frowned.
— Someone's at the door? Aunt May? No... it can't be her. Why would she ring the doorbell?
Curious, he quickly headed downstairs and opened the door.
The sight instantly froze him in place.
— Gwen?!
The young woman greeted him with a gentle smile.
— Hey, Peter.
For a second, he couldn't even respond.
— But... what are you doing here? And the hospital?
— I've been out for a week now.
Her smile widened slightly.
— I'm doing a lot better and... I wanted to see you.
Peter's heart skipped a beat.
For a moment, they simply stood there looking at each other.
Then Peter suddenly realized he was making her wait on the doorstep.
— Uh... sorry!
He quickly stepped aside.
— Come on in!
— Thanks.
Gwen walked into the house and took off her jacket.
Her eyes wandered around the room with a sense of nostalgia.
— It's been so long since I've been here...
Peter smiled.
— That's true. It must've been years. We grew up. We had other priorities than hanging out at each other's houses all the time.
— That's true.
They shared a small laugh.
Then Peter realized he had completely forgotten his manners.
— By the way, do you want something to drink? Or maybe something to eat?
— No, don't worry.
She looked around.
— Where's your aunt?
— At work. She should be home before too long.
— Oh, okay.
Then she looked back at him.
— What about you? What were you doing here all by yourself?
Peter hesitated.
— Oh... well...
He gestured for her to follow him upstairs to his room.
A few moments later, Gwen discovered the suit spread across the desk.
She burst out laughing.
— You're sewing your costume?! I didn't know you could do that...
— Ha ha, very funny.
He rolled his eyes.
— But seriously, I can't do it at all. I've been trying for two hours and haven't gotten anywhere.
He pointed at the tiny tears.
— And these are just little cuts! Imagine if it had been worse... I think I would've just gone out in regular clothes.
Amused, Gwen walked over to the desk.
She sat down, naturally picked up the suit, and examined the damage.
Then she grabbed the needle.
And started sewing.
Peter watched her for a few seconds.
Then his eyes widened.
— Wait...
He pointed at her.
— YOU KNOW HOW TO SEW?!
— Yes.
She continued working calmly.
— Since I was little. My mom taught me.
Peter stood there speechless.
— And you never told me?!
He shook his head.
— That's amazing!
He watched her precise movements.
— Looking at your hands, I can tell you're not joking around. I stab myself every single time...
A mischievous smile appeared on Gwen's face.
— Everyone has their little secrets, Peter.
She looked up at him.
— You should know that better than anyone.
Peter let out a dramatic sigh.
— Oh, come on! Are you ever going to stop making fun of me?
— I don't know...
Her smile widened.
— Maybe.
She paused.
— Or maybe not.
A few minutes later, she proudly lifted the finished costume.
— There.
Peter blinked several times.
— Already?!
He inspected the result.
— Impressive...
Gwen struck a theatrical pose.
— That's right!
She raised her chin proudly.
— You're the Amazing Spider-Man...
Then she pointed at herself.
— And I'm the Amazing Seamstress!
Peter burst out laughing.
She placed the costume back on the desk and sat beside him on the bed.
— I'm really lucky to have you as my girlfriend then.
He gave her a warm smile.
— At least I won't have to learn how to sew.
The word girlfriend immediately made Gwen blush.
Peter didn't even seem to notice.
His expression slowly became more serious.
— But Gwen...
He looked at her carefully.
— Seriously... are you sure you're okay?
— Of course I am!
She shrugged.
— Can't you see? It's been a week since I got out of the hospital and my injury is—
— I'm not talking about your physical injury.
His voice had become softer.
He pointed to his head.
— I'm talking about what's going on in here.
Gwen's smile faltered.
Peter continued calmly:
— After everything that happened... we never really got the chance to talk about it.
He looked her straight in the eyes.
— You can tell me if you're not okay. It was terrifying, Gwen.
His voice softened even more.
— And it would be completely normal if you—
— Peter, you worry too much.
She forced a smile.
— I'm fine, I'm telling you.
— Gwen... I'm serious. You really can—
Peter suddenly stopped.
Something was glistening on her cheek.
A tear.
His heart tightened instantly.
Gently, he lifted her chin.
— Gwen...?
The young woman lowered her eyes.
Her voice cracked.
— If you can pretend everything's fine...
Another tear rolled down her cheek.
— Then why can't I?
Without thinking, Peter pulled her into his arms.
One hand resting on her head, the other on her back.
The moment she felt his embrace, all her resistance collapsed.
Gwen burst into tears.
— The truth is, Peter...
Her voice trembled.
— I was so scared.
Her fingers tightened.
— Facing that thing... on the bridge... alone and defenseless...
She sobbed.
— I thought I was going to die.
Her voice completely broke.
— I was convinced I'd never see my father again...
Then she whispered:
— Or you.
Peter tightened his embrace gently.
— I was so scared...
He closed his eyes.
— I know, Gwen.
His voice was calm.
Protective.
— And I'm sorry.
He lowered his head slightly.
— But now I promise you something.
His gaze became determined.
— I'll be there.
He paused.
— I won't let something like that happen to you again.
They stayed like that for a long time.
Without speaking.
Simply holding each other.
Little by little, Gwen's sobs faded away.
Eventually, she pulled back slightly and wiped her eyes.
— I... I'm sorry.
She lowered her head.
— I shouldn't have...
— Don't apologize.
Peter immediately shook his head.
— On the contrary.
He gave her a reassuring smile.
— I'm glad you told me.
His expression became more serious.
— Keeping all of that to yourself really wasn't a good idea.
Then he added gently:
— Trust me.
Gwen's shoulders finally relaxed.
For the first time in a long while, she seemed genuinely relieved.
— T-Thank you, Peter...
Her smile was still fragile.
But this time, it was sincere.
Suddenly, the sound of a door echoed from downstairs.
Peter slightly lifted his head.
— Sounds like Aunt May's home.
He looked at Gwen warmly.
— Do you want to see her, or would you rather...?
Gwen took a deep breath and regained her composure.
Her eyes were still slightly red, but she had calmed down.
— I'll be okay.
She gave him a small smile.
— Let's go say hello to your aunt.
Peter nodded.
The two of them left the room and headed downstairs.
Peter reached the entrance first.
Gwen followed closely behind.
The moment Aunt May laid eyes on the young woman, her face lit up.
— Well, would you look at that... Gwen Stacy!
Before Gwen could even react, May opened her arms wide.
— Come here!
She wrapped her in a warm hug.
Completely caught off guard, Gwen froze for a second before returning the embrace.
— I'm really happy to see you too, Aunt May.
A sincere smile appeared on her face.
— It's been years.
— Exactly!
May pulled back slightly to look at her.
— You've grown so much!
She shook her head emotionally.
— But tell me, what are you doing here? Have you been here long?
— Not really.
Gwen glanced toward the door.
— Actually, I was about to head home.
— Head home?
May immediately crossed her arms.
— Right after I just got here?
She firmly shook her head.
— Oh no, no, no! You're staying the night here, young lady!
— What?
Gwen's eyes widened.
— But—
— No "buts"!
Gwen immediately turned toward Peter.
— Peter, help me!
But Peter had already realized resistance was futile.
— Sorry, Gwen.
He smiled.
— When she makes up her mind, it's impossible to change it.
Then he added more softly:
— Besides... I'd like you to stay too.
Gwen's eyes met his.
— It's been a long time, after all.
The young woman's cheeks turned slightly pink.
Peter then pulled out his phone.
— Don't worry.
He was already walking toward the living room.
— I'll call your dad!
He dialed the number, and a few seconds later, George Stacy answered almost immediately.
— Hello, George! It's Peter!
— Hello?
A faint amused chuckle came through the phone.
— It's getting pretty late, Peter.
Peter scratched the back of his neck.
— Oh, right...
A brief awkward silence followed.
— Good evening.
George laughed softly.
— So? What's going on, my boy?
— Gwen's here, and Aunt May would like her to spend the evening with us.
Peter glanced toward the kitchen.
— Since it's been such a long time since they've seen each other.
He paused briefly.
— I just wanted to ask for your permission.
— Of course.
The answer came immediately.
— No problem at all.
George's voice softened.
— It'll do her good.
His tone became slightly more serious.
— The accident wasn't easy on her, even if she's trying to hide it.
Peter lowered his gaze slightly.
— Spending an evening with you and May will be perfect for her.
A smile appeared on George's face.
— Could you put your aunt on the phone for a minute? I'd like to say hello.
— Of course! I'll put her on!
Peter returned to the kitchen and handed the phone to May without any explanation. She took it without asking questions.
— Hello? Who's speaking?
— How are you doing, May? It's George!
May's eyes widened.
— George?!
She immediately burst out laughing.
— Oh my goodness, it's been so long!
While the two adults caught up, Gwen discreetly grabbed Peter by the arm and pulled him a little farther away.
— What did you do this time, Peter?
— Thank me.
He crossed his arms proudly.
— Your dad said yes.
— Seriously?! How did you manage that?!
Peter gave her a triumphant look.
At that moment, May's voice echoed throughout the house.
— KIDS! GET OVER HERE!
They immediately headed into the kitchen.
May was beaming.
— Good news!
She placed a hand on Gwen's shoulder.
— I got to talk with your father.
Her smile widened.
— We even picked a date to see each other again.
Then she pointed at Gwen.
— And he's perfectly fine with you staying the night!
Gwen barely had time to open her mouth before May continued:
— It'll be just like the good old days!
She then turned toward Peter.
— Alright, Peter, you're in charge of the popcorn.
Then toward Gwen:
— While Gwen and I pick the movie!
Before either of them could protest, she grabbed Gwen by the hand and pulled her toward the living room.
Peter remained alone in the kitchen.
A nostalgic smile spread across his face.
It had been so long since he'd experienced something like this.
— It's been a while...
He started preparing the popcorn.
As the kernels popped in the pot, his thoughts drifted toward a much more serious conversation.
One he had shared with George Stacy at the hospital.
— So... what did you find out about him?
George had crossed his arms.
— To be completely honest... not much.
Peter had immediately lost some of his enthusiasm.
— Other than the fact that his real name is Lonnie Thompson Lincoln.
George had continued:
— From a very young age, life wasn't easy for him because of his albinism. But also because of a condition that affected his voice.
Peter immediately understood why Tombstone always spoke in a low, raspy tone.
— As a child, he trained himself relentlessly to compensate for his disabilities.
George looked out the hospital window.
— Until he became a real machine.
Then his gaze returned to Peter.
— Later, he became a hitman. He worked for Wilson Fisk, a man also known as the Kingpin. After that, he was reportedly tasked with taking over as New York's crime boss and amassing a colossal fortune.
He paused.
— Most likely for his employer.
Peter remained silent.
Disappointed.
He had hoped for a weakness.
Evidence.
Something that would finally allow them to bring Tombstone down.
But that wasn't the case.
George immediately understood what he was thinking.
— I know what you're thinking.
Peter looked up.
— You were hoping we'd uncover something concrete to stop him.
George sighed.
— But we're going to have to find another way.
His expression turned grave.
— And there's something important you need to know.
The tone of his voice immediately made Peter focus.
— Tombstone is willing to do absolutely anything.
George looked him straight in the eyes.
— Absolutely anything to achieve his goals.
A chill ran down Peter's spine.
— Imagine the worst things possible.
The captain's gaze was unsettlingly sincere.
— And assume he's capable of all of them.
Then he added:
— So when the time comes, be ready to fight with everything you've got.
His jaw tightened.
— We can't afford to miss that opportunity.
A silence followed.
— For now, he hasn't done anything catastrophic yet. But everything could spiral out of control at any moment.
Peter had slowly nodded.
His gaze hardened.
— I'll remember that. Don't worry.
The smell of popcorn brought Peter back to reality.
He blinked.
The kernels had finished popping.
— Ready for anything, huh...?
He poured the popcorn into a large bowl and headed back to the living room.
— Oh, sweetheart!
May raised her arms enthusiastically.
— You're finally here!
She pointed at the bowl.
— And you've got the popcorn!
Her smile grew even wider.
— Wonderful!
Gwen waved him over.
— Peter, come sit down already!
Her eyes sparkled with excitement.
— We found an amazing movie!
Peter smiled warmly.
— I'm coming! Make some room for me!
He sat down between the two women.
For a few moments, everything felt perfectly normal.
The living room.
The movie.
The laughter.
The popcorn.
The warmth of a home.
As if no Lizard had ever existed.
As if Tombstone were nothing more than a bad memory.
But behind his smile, Peter hadn't forgotten.
And he never would.
For a brief moment, his eyes drifted toward the window overlooking New York.
Then his gaze hardened.
— Whatever you're planning, Tombstone...
Be sure of one thing:
— I will stop you.
TO BE CONTINUED.