Norman Osborn stared at the fading holographic projection, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.
The mysterious contact's last words echoed in his mind:
> No more funding without results. Three weeks. Deliver the human enhancement breakthrough, or the military walks away.
Then the call cut.
Silence filled the office.
For a moment, Norman just stood there, shoulders shaking.
Then everything snapped.
"Damn it!"
He swung his fist and slammed it into the glass display, the impact rattling the frame. After that, he swept his arm wildly across his desk, sending documents, devices, and expensive ornaments crashing to the floor.
The sound of shattering glass and clattering metal did nothing to calm him.
"Useless old snake," Norman snarled under his breath. "He's been taking my money and favors for years. And now, when things get tight, he pretends he doesn't know me."
His mind flashed to the other problem—the board of directors. He could see their faces clearly: forced smiles masking greed, fake concern hiding their cowardice.
When profits were soaring, they bowed, praised, and treated him like a king.
But the moment performance dipped?
They called emergency meetings.
They whispered behind his back.
They talked about replacing him.
"Hypocrites," Norman hissed. "Every last one of them."
And then there was Vanderbuilt Technologies.
And its calm, unreadable President—Levi.
"If it weren't for him," Norman muttered, his eyes burning with hate, "Osborn Group wouldn't be in this position at all…"
It was Vanderbuilt's Modia Units project that had impressed the military. Vanderbuilt's tech that took the defense contracts Norman believed belonged to him. Vanderbuilt's clean, efficient, morally upright image that made Osborn look like a relic clinging to dirty science.
Norman's lips twisted into a bitter smile.
"Fine," he whispered. "If I'm going down…"
"Vanderbuilt Technologies is coming with me."
He threw his head back and began to laugh, the sound harsh and joyless.
---
Outside the office, raised voices echoed through the hall.
"Dr. Connors! The President is in a meeting!" the secretary protested anxiously. "No one is allowed inside right now—"
"I have something urgent to report to Mr. Osborn!" Dr. Kurt Connors insisted.
Before she could stop him, the office door swung open.
Norman's head snapped toward the entrance, anger flaring again.
The secretary stood there looking helpless and flustered.
"President Norman, I tried to stop him…"
Connors stepped past her, slightly out of breath but determined. In his hand, he clutched a USB drive like a lifeline.
"Mr. Norman!" he said, almost trembling with excitement. "My human enhancement project—we've made a major breakthrough!"
Norman froze.
Just like that, his fury was pushed aside by sharp, hungry curiosity.
For years, Osborn Group had poured money into human enhancement research. Most of the projects ended in failure or insanity. The closest success had been Richard Parker's spider genome work—but Richard fled with his data and died in a crash.
The other key projects, led by Dr. Otto Octavius and Dr. Kurt Connors, never reached a usable stage.
Norman had already fired Otto.
Connors was his last remaining hope.
He narrowed his eyes. "Show me."
---
Connors moved quickly, plugging the USB into the large screen's console.
He loaded the data, then projected the simulation logs.
Norman watched.
He saw the virtual mouse regenerate its missing limb.
He saw stability readings holding steady instead of collapsing.
He saw newly labeled genetic sequences and a fresh cell model with astonishing capacity.
His background in biology wasn't just for show. He understood exactly what these numbers meant.
This was not just a regeneration agent.
This was a body enhancement catalyst.
"One cell line... can regenerate severed limbs," Connors explained, trying to keep his excitement under control. "And the same structure, based on our calculations, can vastly strengthen physical performance—endurance, strength, reaction speed—beyond normal human limits."
Norman's heartbeat quickened.
This wasn't another half-baked serum or unstable enhancement that turned soldiers into mindless beasts. At least on the surface, this cell looked refined, strong, and reproducible.
Stronger potential than the super soldier serum that once made Captain America.
"Perfect…" Norman whispered.
Then he began to laugh again—this time with real exhilaration.
"Excellent! With this cell… I, Norman Osborn, will reverse everything!"
He imagined the headlines already.
OSBORN GROUP CREATES TRUE SUPERHUMAN BREAKTHROUGH
HUMAN LIMITS SHATTERED — NEW ERA OF EVOLUTION
Stark Industries?
Vanderbuilt Technologies?
They would all be pushed aside.
"Call everyone," Norman said sharply. "Omar, assemble all lead scientists working on human augmentation. We're going to the underground lab."
He grabbed Connors by the shoulder.
"Doctor, you're coming with me. This—" he gestured at the data, "—is our salvation."
---
Soon after, a group of scientists, project leaders, and senior researchers crowded into an elevator and descended toward the underground experimental complex of Osborn Tower.
The deeper they went, the colder the air felt.
The underground floor housed Osborn's most secret projects. Even many internal employees didn't know this level existed. The corridors were lined with reinforced glass chambers and armored storage rooms.
As they walked, the scientists could see the relics of past research:
A sleek, menacing green exo-armor suit arranged on a stand — the prototype Green Goblin warframe.
A set of mechanical arms with segmented tentacles — Dr. Otto's discarded invention, flexible enough to crush steel.
Experimental combat gear and weapon prototypes stacked and locked behind secure doors.
This floor was Osborn Group's true heart—where ethics went to die, and ambition reigned.
The scientists walked in uneasy silence, whispers breaking out here and there.
"Why did he call us all down here at once?"
"I heard the company's in trouble…"
"Maybe they're shutting down projects."
"Or cutting staff."
No one knew.
But everyone was imagining the worst.
They eventually reached a large underground conference room, where a sizable screen, projectors, and instrumentation were already prepared.
Norman Osborn and Dr. Connors were waiting at the front.
As everyone took their seats, Norman scanned their faces.
He cleared his throat.
"Everyone," he said calmly, "I called you here today… because I've decided to suspend all previous human enhancement projects."
The room fell into stunned silence.
Eyes widened. People exchanged alarmed looks.
So it was true. The rumors, the fear—this was it.
Many of them saw their careers flash before their eyes.
But Norman wasn't done.
He let the tension simmer for a moment.
Then his lips curled into a thin smile.
"Don't panic just yet. Before you curse me in your heads—look at this first."
He turned to the screen.
A new cell model appeared.
He had removed key segments from the public view—no one would see the full sequence except him and Connors—but the general structure and effect were clear enough.
The scientists leaned forward.
They began reading through the projections and notes.
Regeneration…
Muscle reinforcement…
Cellular resilience…
Adaptive metabolism…
Soon, their shock turned into disbelief.
"This can't be real…" one of them whispered.
"This cell… it can regenerate entire limbs?"
"Not just that—if this enhancement holds in live subjects, this could create beings more powerful than Captain America."
"If even half of this is accurate, it could qualify for a Nobel Prize…"
Norman listened to their reactions, satisfaction growing inside him.
When he saw that every face in the room was locked on the screen, he began to speak again.
"You all understand now," he said. "This cell—if we can stabilize it and mass-produce it—could lead humanity into its greatest evolutionary leap."
He opened his arms slightly, as if presenting them the future.
"With this, we're not just patching up our company. We're going to redefine what humans are."
The room's atmosphere shifted.
Anxious scientists turned into excited fanatics.
Some saw glory.
Some saw scientific immortality.
Some saw careers saved from ruin.
"All previous projects are officially on hold," Norman said. "From this moment on, we focus on one thing—this cell."
He paused.
"Over the next three weeks, we will complete everything—from mass sample cultivation to human trials."
He looked around, his gaze sharp.
"Who is willing to join this project?"
Hands went up one after another.
Every researcher in the room was infected by his fervor.
"Very good," Norman said, satisfied. "But listen carefully. This project is classified and urgent. For the next three weeks, you will all work in full isolation down here in the underground facility. No outside contact. No normal life. No going home."
Some people hesitated.
But in the end, no one backed down.
A little sacrifice for the sake of "human evolution" seemed acceptable to them.
"Mr. Norman," someone finally asked, "what will we call this new cell?"
Norman thought for a moment.
His eyes flashed.
"Let's name it the Amazon Cell."
He spoke the words slowly, like casting a spell.
---
Osborn Group's best teams went to work.
Under the combined expertise of many scientists—and thanks to the modified data Levi had secretly embedded—a sample of Amazon Cells was successfully cultivated in less than two days.
In the lab, Petri dishes and bioreactors hummed with activity.
The cells grew rapidly, dividing, stabilizing, pulsing with unnatural potential.
"We actually did it…" one scientist whispered. "We created something completely new."
"We've made history," another said, eyes shining.
Dr. Connors watched the Amazon Cells replicate and felt a fierce, almost parental pride.
This was his creation. His work. His redemption.
Norman stood beside the observation window, staring at the glowing cultures.
"Everyone," he said, raising his voice, "our experiments so far are a success. But this is just the beginning. The real test starts now—"
He looked around the room.
"—with human experiments."
The room quieted.
"Mr. Norman, isn't that… dangerous?" one researcher asked carefully. "We're still working with a new biological structure. Who would volunteer to receive such an injection?"
Norman smiled coldly.
"Don't worry. For the sake of the future of humanity, there will always be people willing to step forward."
Dr. Connors felt a chill run down his back.
Later, in a smaller side room, he confronted Norman.
"Norman, where are we going to find that many… test subjects?" Connors asked, voice low.
Based on his calculations, they needed hundreds of human subjects to properly test and adjust the Amazon Cells.
Norman didn't hesitate.
"That's simple," he replied with a sneer. "The homeless in alleyways. The forgotten in the ghettos. Death row inmates rotting in prison. This country is never short of people, Doctor. Only short of people who matter."
Connors stared at him.
"That's illegal," he whispered. "Norman… this is going too far."
"Don't be naive," Norman snapped. "If we succeed, we become saviors of the human race. Once we stand on that height, who will care how many nobodies disappeared along the way?"
Connors clenched his jaw, torn.
The dream of healing, of evolving, pulled at him. The Amazon Cells were his greatest accomplishment. To stop now would mean letting it all die unfinished.
After a tense silence, he finally nodded—slowly, reluctantly.
"…Fine," he said. "I'll continue the research."
Norman smiled.
"Good. I already contacted my people. The first batch of test subjects is on the way."
---
Soon, transport vehicles began arriving at the hidden underground entrance of Osborn Tower.
Inside the underground facility, stretchers were wheeled in one by one.
Men and women from the streets, thin and pale. Prisoners with blank eyes. People no one would miss.
They were all unconscious—kept under heavy sedation.
Each subject's wrist bore a sleek metal band: a gigabit armband.
The armbands had a dual function:
They continuously injected anesthesia, making sure the subjects remained dormant as long as necessary.
They monitored vital signs in real time, feeding data straight into Osborn's central system.
Under white fluorescent lights, row after row of human bodies lay quietly in sealed chambers, gigabit armbands blinking faintly.
They looked like they were just sleeping.
In reality, they were about to become the first humans to meet the Amazon Cells.
Norman Osborn watched from the observation platform, eyes burning with fanatic ambition.
"From here…" he murmured, "…the world changes."
He didn't know yet that in chasing evolution, he was opening the door to monsters.
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