Norman Osborn had always believed that fear was his greatest weapon.
As the Green Goblin, he was chaos incarnate—mad laughter, pumpkin bombs, blades, and missiles. Criminals screamed his name. Enemies trembled before him. Even seasoned fighters hesitated when they saw the green armor and that twisted grin.
But tonight—
Tonight, Norman Osborn was startled.
For the first time since injecting himself with the Super Soldier Serum, his instincts screamed danger.
Batman.
The dark figure dropped from above like a living shadow, silent and precise. No dramatic entrance. No roar. Just a calculated descent that made even the Green Goblin's enhanced reflexes react a split second too late.
Almost instinctively, the Green Goblin raised his arm to block.
His expression froze—wide-eyed, startled—yet beneath that surface reaction, his mind was already working.
Hidden within the sleeve of that raised arm was a short knife, its blade pressed flat against his forearm, invisible at a glance. He waited, muscles coiled, heart pounding with manic excitement.
Come closer…
Just one more inch…
"Everything is exactly as I expected."
Beneath the mask, Norman Osborn grinned.
He imagined it clearly—Batman lunging forward, confident, overcommitting. The knife flashing upward. The scream. The blood. The disembowelment.
His breathing grew heavier.
His grip tightened.
Buzz!
Batman struck.
The short knife shot forward like a viper, slicing through the air and stabbing straight for Batman's chest.
"Everything is within my plan."
Batman's voice was cold, flat—unemotional.
He had already prepared for this moment the instant he entered the secret room and saw the arsenal laid out before him: pumpkin bombs, long knives, short blades, bullets, miniature missiles.
Norman Osborn's weapons told a story. His movements confirmed it.
Regardless of which weapon the Green Goblin chose, Batman had already mapped out every countermeasure.
The Bat-Transmitter embedded in the sole of his combat boot had been activated the moment he heard footsteps.
The serrated blades hidden within his gauntlets had already deployed.
Ding!
Metal rang sharply through the secret room.
Batman's gauntlet blade met the short knife with surgical precision, knocking it aside at the exact angle needed to deflect, not absorb, the force. With a controlled twist of his wrist, Batman sent the blade spinning across the floor.
The Green Goblin froze.
For less than a second.
Then he lashed out with a punch.
Boom!
Batman crossed his arms to block instead of counterattacking directly.
The impact was explosive.
His body flew backward like a missile, slamming into the concrete wall of the secret room. The reinforced structure cracked, chunks of cement exploding outward as Batman embedded halfway into the wall.
Dust filled the air.
Cracks spider-webbed outward.
Batman dropped from the wall, landing lightly on his feet despite the damage.
"Norman Osborn has not undergone professional combat training," Batman assessed internally.
"His fighting relies on enhanced reaction speed, raw strength, and instinctive violence."
Based on the destruction on the third basement level of the Osborn Group, Batman had already estimated his opponent's physical output.
Stronger than Captain America.
That conclusion alone would have terrified most people.
But Batman continued calmly:
"I must control my output. Excessive force risks accidental fatality."
Peter Parker's physical data—constantly monitored and refined—gave Batman a precise benchmark. Combined with the Batsuit's protective systems, Norman Osborn's strikes were powerful, but within acceptable damage thresholds.
This had been calculated long before the fight began—while Batman lay pressed against the ceiling, silent as stone.
"Ho ho ho—!"
The Green Goblin laughed, the sound echoing through the secret room like a madman's chant.
He kicked off the ground, charging again with feral aggression. Another short knife slid into his hand as naturally as breathing.
Batman had just recovered from the wall when the blade came down—aimed straight at his heart.
This time—
Batman stopped testing.
He caught the Green Goblin's wrist mid-strike.
And twisted.
Crack!
The sound was sharp. Final.
Norman Osborn's arm bent at an impossible angle.
Despite his ability to smash walls and launch Batman across the room, the Green Goblin's enhanced strength could not compete with Peter Parker's raw output.
Twenty-five tons of force.
Thirty, when combined with Batman's perfected power-generation technique.
Batman did not hesitate.
He did not pity.
He did not restrain himself unnecessarily.
Efficiency mattered more than sentiment.
The grin vanished from Norman Osborn's face, replaced by a contorted scream of pain. But instead of clutching his shattered wrist, he slammed his thumb down on a hidden control.
Whoosh!
The long green knife resting near the pumpkin bombs flew into his remaining hand as if summoned by thought alone.
The weapon ignited.
Electric currents raced across the blade and into his suit, flooding it with power. The Green Goblin retreated, swinging wildly.
There was no formal technique.
No discipline.
But the speed boost granted by the Super Soldier Serum turned chaos into lethality. The green blade light expanded outward, forming a spinning barrier—dense, violent, nearly impenetrable.
Hiss.
Batman raised his arm.
A soft mechanical whisper followed as high-pressure nitrogen expelled web fluid from his gauntlet. The black webbing shot forward, solidifying instantly.
Rip!
The blade light tore through it.
The web evaporated on contact.
Pat. Pat. Pat.
The bats flitting around the room dropped lifelessly to the floor the moment they brushed against the green blade.
Batman frowned.
If he had his cape, this fight would already be over.
The cape's composite weave could disrupt the blade light and create an opening within seconds.
But his cape was gone.
All he had was a modified device salvaged from the Spider-Slayer's glider.
The Green Goblin continued retreating, step by step, until his back touched the glider hidden in the secret room.
Then he leaped.
The glider lifted him into the air smoothly.
Batman fired his webbing again—
Too late.
A sharp whistle cut through the air behind him.
The second glider.
The one the Green Goblin used outside.
It charged straight toward Batman, twin spikes extending from its nose—designed to impale, not merely strike.
Boom!
Batman twisted sideways, narrowly avoiding impalement. As the glider passed, he grabbed it mid-flight and slammed it into the ground with crushing force.
At the same instant—
The Green Goblin sliced open the ceiling with his glowing blade and shot upward, disappearing into the night sky.
"Ho ha ha ha ha!"
His laughter echoed across the city.
By the time Batman emerged, only the fading flame of the glider's thrusters remained on the horizon.
The Green Goblin had escaped.
Batman stood still for a moment.
Then he turned back.
Re-entering the secret room, he deactivated the Bat-Transmitter in his boot and surveyed the remaining weapons.
These could not be left behind.
Just as he moved to secure them—
"Father?"
Harry Osborn's voice rang out.
The young man stood in the study, awakened by the violence, staring in confusion at the eerie green glow behind the bookshelf.
Thump!
A smoke bomb burst.
White fog engulfed the room.
Before Harry could react, Batman was already there.
A precisely measured chop to the neck.
Harry Osborn collapsed unconscious.
When he woke later, groggy and disoriented, he found only an empty room.
No weapons.
No intruder.
Only a faint green light lingering like a nightmare he couldn't quite remember.
And somewhere in the city—
The war between the Dark Knight and the Green Goblin had only just begun.
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