“Welcome,” Norman Osborn said, his voice smooth and magnetic, “young talents from Midtown High.”
He stepped forward personally, shaking hands with each of them in turn.
When he reached Peter, he paused.
His gaze lingered.
Just a little too long.
“You’re Peter.” Norman extended his hand, tone layered with something hard to read.
“Harry’s mentioned you quite a few times these past couple of days.
Says your talent in physics, biology—even chemistry—is exceptional.”
Peter shook his hand, clearly flustered.
“Y-you… know my father?”
Norman nodded without hesitation.
“Of course.
Richard Parker was one of the greatest genetic engineers in the world.
He worked at Oscorp for a time.
We had… many discussions back then.”
Standing nearby, Clark narrowed his eyes slightly.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
As Norman turned away, Clark caught it—
A subtle spike in his heartbeat.
A faint, almost imperceptible scoff through his nose.
Disdain.
If you weren’t listening closely, you’d miss it entirely.
But Clark didn’t.
What Clark didn’t hear—
Was the thought behind it.
Richard, you fool… running off with research that belonged to Oscorp.
But maybe… his son knows something.
Clark didn’t need to hear the exact words.
Norman’s attitude alone was enough.
Combined with everything Clark knew—from other “versions” of this world—
A quiet alarm bell rang in his mind.
Maybe Richard and Mary’s disappearance…
Wasn’t just about S.H.I.E.L.D.
and Hydra.
Maybe—
Oscorp had played a role too.
And now—
Peter had just walked straight into their territory.
…
“Don’t do anything reckless,” the little angel in Clark’s head warned immediately.
“One punch and you’re on every wanted list by tomorrow.
Observe first.
And don’t forget—S.H.I.E.L.D.
is still watching you.”
Clark waved a hand, dismissing the overdramatic voice.
“I wasn’t planning anything,” he muttered inwardly.
Not yet.
…
“Alright, children,” Norman said smoothly, as if nothing at all had happened.
“Follow me.”
With that, he turned—
Through the transparent blast-proof glass, they caught sight of a man in a lab coat inside the next room.
His right arm was missing, the empty sleeve neatly pinned.
He stood hunched over a microscope, completely absorbed in his work.
“That,” Norman said, gesturing calmly, “is Curt Connors.”
“Our top expert in reptilian genetics.
He’s researching how to transfer a reptile’s regenerative abilities—like limb regrowth—into humans through cross-species gene integration.”
Peter and Cindy were instantly hooked, scribbling furiously in their notebooks as if afraid to miss a single word.
“Connors is brilliant,” Norman continued, shaking his head slightly.
“But… a bit too impatient.
Given his condition, it’s understandable.”
Without waiting, he led them onward.
The next lab was entirely different.
No biological samples.
No serum.
Only machinery.
A slightly overweight man in sunglasses stood before a computer console, deep in thought.
Behind him loomed a massive mechanical apparatus—four enormous, articulated metal tentacles.
“Otto Octavius,” Norman said, unmistakable pride in his voice.
“A pioneer in neural-mechanical engineering.
These arms are controlled directly via brainwaves, assisted by cutting-edge AI.
If successful, they could revolutionize deep-sea exploration, hazardous environment rescue… and most importantly, extraterrestrial operations.”
Clark watched silently.
And couldn’t help thinking—
This isn’t a lab.
It’s a villain origin factory.
A Lizard.
A Doctor Octopus.
What’s next?
A Shocker?
A drone warlord?
Up front, Peter and Cindy were in their own world—rapid-fire questions, dense jargon, academic excitement spilling over.
Neither of them had stopped talking since the tour began.
MJ didn’t understand half of what they were saying, but she didn’t need to.
She just watched Peter.
And smiled.
To her, he was glowing.
As for Cindy—she was just a new friend.
Nothing more.
Not everything had to turn into romance.
Some things could just be… pure.
Behind them, however—
Was chaos.
Felicia kept finding excuses to edge closer to Clark.
“I can’t see clearly,” she’d say—then lean in, pressing lightly against his arm.
Or she’d casually drift closer, lowering her voice to whisper details about Oscorp, her breath just brushing his ear.
And every single time—
Gwen would step in.
Seamlessly.
Efficiently.
Like a professional blocker in a football game.
She’d wedge herself between them, pull Clark back, cut off any physical proximity before it could even begin.
Clark, stuck in the middle, felt more exhausted than if he’d been hit by a missile.
Even with a body of steel—
This was too much.
“Yes.
Hydrants.
Very interesting.”
“Alright,” Norman finally said, stopping before a massive reinforced metal door.
“Now for the highlight of today’s tour.”
He placed his hand against a scanner.
Then leaned in for a retinal scan.
Locks disengaged one by one.
The airtight door slid open.
Clark nearly sighed in relief.
Finally—an escape.
“Welcome,” Norman said, stepping inside and spreading his arms wide, “to Oscorp’s core classified project.”
“Our alternative to the Super Soldier Program.”
“Or as we call it internally—”
“The Super Spider Initiative.”
Inside was a circular laboratory.
At its center stood a massive glass bio-dome.
Within it—
A perfectly simulated tropical rainforest ecosystem.
Humidity.
Dense vegetation.
Webs stretching across branches and corners.
And within those webs—
Spiders.
Not normal ones.
Larger.
Stronger.
Their bodies marked with vivid red and blue patterns.
“The military has long sought to revive the World War II ‘Captain America’ program,” Norman explained.
“But the original serum is lost.”
“So—we’re building something better.”
He gestured toward the spiders.
“Nature’s perfect predators.”
“These specimens can lift over a hundred times their own body weight.
Their neural response speed exceeds human limits by orders of magnitude.”
“Through genetic engineering, we’ve combined traits from three enhanced spider species—resulting in fifteen perfected experimental organisms.”
Peter had practically glued his face to the glass.
This wasn’t science anymore.
This was a miracle.
“Can their abilities be transferred to humans?” Cindy asked.
Norman glanced at her, impressed.
“That,” he said with a faint smile, “is exactly what we’re trying to achieve.”
“But at present… no.”
“If an ordinary human were bitten, the genetic restructuring process would be… fatal.”
Clark folded his arms slightly.
Got it.
The chosen one has officially entered the stage.
He glanced at Peter.
Yep.
No way this kid avoids getting bitten.
Then he looked back at the spiders.
And it’s definitely not happening to me.
If anything, I’d probably weaken them instead.