The rusted gears of the freight elevator ground out a metallic shriek as the heavy iron grate rattled open. Gwen Stacy stepped out onto the roof, pulling her wool coat tighter against the biting November wind that ripped across the skyline. She eyed the reinforced steel door leading into the rooftop laboratory, her boots crunching lightly on the gravel.
"So, this is the highly classified Spider-Base the Web," Gwen said, looking around the mostly barren roof. "I have to admit, the real estate is prime, but the commute leaves a lot to be desired. That elevator sounds like it's going to drop us down an empty shaft."
"Yeah, well, the elevator is strictly for civilian guests," Peter said, stepping past her to punch a six-digit code into the keypad by the door. "I usually just swing across the alley and take the skylight. Saves on maintenance fees."
Peter hadn't originally planned on bringing Gwen into the operational nerve center. But the threat matrix had shifted. The Lizard wasn't a standard bank robber; Connors was a biological hazard. Gwen's social instincts were sharper than anyone else's in their orbit, and Peter realized he needed her analytical mind in the war council.
The heavy steel door hissed open, revealing a surprisingly state-of-the-art laboratory crammed into the retrofitted rooftop space. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, illuminating banks of computer servers, chemical workstations, and whiteboards covered in frantic, scribbled equations.
Harry was leaning over a soldering station in the corner, a pair of protective goggles pushed up into his hair. Harry spun around, a grin breaking across his face.
"Oh, hey, Pete, you're finally—" Harry froze, his eyes landing on the blonde girl stepping through the doorway. His mouth hung open slightly. He pointed a soldering iron at her. "Gwen?"
Harry looked wildly between Peter and Gwen, desperately trying to mentally shove the Spider-Man operation back into the closet. "Pete, what is she doing here? We were supposed to—"
"She knows, Harry," Peter interrupted, dropping his backpack onto a rolling chair. He didn't sugarcoat it. "Gwen knows I'm Spider-Man. Honestly, she knew it way before you did. She had it figured out entirely on her own."
Gwen had already deduced his identity months ago using nothing but a pair of red sneakers and a left-handed handwriting sample. She offered Harry a casual, two-finger wave. "Hey, Harry. Nice goggles."
Harry blinked. He lowered the soldering iron, staring at the floor as his brain completely rebooted. "I... what?"
"No time for an existential crisis, Harry," Peter said, moving briskly toward the central command table while making Venom equip him with his Black Symbiote Spidersuit.
Peter had briefed Gwen on the roster beforehand. The man anxiously pacing a groove into the floorboards was Dr. Jonathan Drew, the current lead on Osborn Technologies' Savage Force spider-research division.
"It's getting late, Dr. Drew," Peter said, clapping his hands together. "Where are we on the antidote?"
Dr. Drew stopped pacing and dragged both hands down his tired face. "We are nowhere, Spider-Man. Or rather, we are stuck behind a massive biochemical wall. We don't have a clean sample of Connors' blood. He has no recent record of blood donation. Any baseline samples from his previous medical physicals were discarded by Oscorp months ago. I can't build a targeted retrovirus without a genetic baseline."
Peter didn't say a word. He just stepped up to the main console, typed a rapid twelve-key sequence, and hit enter.
A pneumatic hiss echoed from beneath the desk. A small, insulated compartment popped open, releasing a cloud of white nitrogen vapor. Peter reached into the frost, pulled out a thick glass vial of dark red liquid, and tossed it underhand.
Dr. Drew fumbled to catch the freezing vial, staring at it like Peter had just handed him a live grenade. "Is this...?"
"Dr. Connors' pre-mutation serum," Peter confirmed, leaning back against the desk. "A while back, we had a theoretical discussion about multiverse variants. I mentioned there were realities where he turned into a giant, psychotic reptile. He laughed it off as a fun thought experiment, but I convinced him to let me draw a baseline blood sample. Just in case."
Dr. Drew stared at the vial, his hands shaking slightly. "You are terrifyingly paranoid, kid."
"I call it proactive," Peter corrected. "Get to work on manufacturing the cure. Oh, and synthesize a secondary dose for me while you're at it. If I have to physically stop him, there's a non-zero chance he tries to inject me with the Lizard strain. I'd rather not grow a tail."
Peter rubbed the back of his neck, his jaw tightening. "We originally had his consent to implant a subcutaneous locator chip, but the signal went dark two hours ago. The mutation either crushed the hardware or he dug it out."
"You don't sound like Spider-Man right now. You sound like Batman."
The sultry, mocking voice came from the door that just opened. Felicia Hardy walk silently, her white hair catching the harsh fluorescent light. She didn't bother hiding her Black Cat persona, but even so people who know her will know who is Black Cat.
Harry gripped the edge of his workbench, his eyes practically bulging out of his skull.
Wait. Felicia? Vice-President of the Detective Club? Are you kidding me? How many people in here know about Peter as Spider-Man?!
Peter ignored the teasing, turning his attention to the imposing, silent man walking behind Felicia. "Welcome to the team, Mr. Kravinoff. We need your specific expertise."
"I was told there was a giant reptile requiring a hunt," Kraven rumbled. His voice was a deep, gravelly baritone that vibrated in the small room. He stepped forward, his eyes burning with intense, predatory focus. "I am here."
Peter unzipped a bio-hazard pouch on the desk. Using a pair of steel tongs, he extracted a jagged, blood-soaked chunk of scaly green flesh. "He tore this off his own back while escaping. The regenerative healing factor is off the charts, but the biological signature is fresh. Can you track it?"
Kraven didn't flinch. He leaned down, inhaling deeply through his nose, his eyes closing as he analyzed the scent profile.
"It is sufficient," Kraven said, opening his eyes and turning toward the door. "The musk is dominant. Acidic. Prehistoric. I have the scent. I will contact you when I have the beast cornered."
"Don't underestimate him, Kraven," Peter warned, his tone dropping an octave. "This isn't a crocodile in a swamp. He retains human intelligence and possesses super-soldier strength. He will rip you in half if you give him an opening."
Kraven merely smiled, a flash of white teeth against his dark beard. "Do not worry, Spider. A hunter knows the weight of his prey."
The heavy steel door opened one last time as Kraven left. Cindy Moon slipped through the gap before it shut, moving with the absolute silence of a fully trained S.H.I.E.L.D. operative. She gave Peter a single, curt nod.
"Alright, that's everyone," Peter said. He closed his eyes.
A wet, tearing sound echoed through the lab. Black, liquid sludge erupted from Peter's suit collar, expanding outward with terrifying speed. Venom shot across the floor and walls, spreading a thin, vibrating layer of alien biomass over every surface, window, and ventilation grate. The room plunged into a suffocating, soundproof stillness.
Harry swallowed hard, taking a step back from the black-coated walls.
"It's just a signal jammer," Peter said, his voice echoing slightly in the sealed room. "What we're about to discuss requires absolute, total operational security."
Peter walked over to the whiteboard, grabbing a marker. "Norman Osborn is playing a game, and he's cheating. Think about the timeline. Mysterio waltzed into Oscorp. Electro broke in. The Vulture literally crashed through a window. Every single time, Oscorp's defenses failed. But Norman has a dedicated, military-grade security grid for his personal office. He knows how to lock a building down."
Peter drew a rough schematic of the Oscorp tower on the board. "When the Vulture attacked, Norman deployed high-tensile impact glass and a private tactical squad. But tonight? Doctor Octopus broke in, and the entire building went dead. No alarms. No tactical teams. Doc Ock didn't even scale the exterior glass—he took the damn elevator."
"He let him in," Harry said, his voice barely a whisper. He stared at the whiteboard, his fists clenching at his sides. "My father did it on purpose. He doesn't care who gets caught in the crossfire."
"Exactly," Peter nodded, tapping the board with the marker. "Norman left the front door open. He wanted the lab breached." Norman had independently confirmed Peter's identity months ago using the Green Goblin AI, which meant every single move the CEO made was a calculated chess piece against Spider-Man.
"Here is how we counter-attack," Peter said, turning to face the room. "Harry, I need you to go home. If Norman there then play the prodigal son. Distract your father. And if not then you can dig around"
"Done," Harry said instantly, his expression hardening.
"Black Cat," Peter continued, tossing her a specialized hacking drive. "You're our loud decoy. You are going to break into Oscorp. Trigger the alarms. Make a mess. When Norman's security forces inevitably corner you and kick you out, he's going to think he won. He'll drop his guard."
Felicia caught the drive, a wicked smile curling her lips. "Smash and grab. My favorite."
"Once Black Cat pulls the security grid's attention, Norman will retreat to his personal office to check his private files," Peter said, turning to the blonde girl by the door. "Gwen. That's when you move."
Harry's head whipped around. "Wait. Gwen? Peter, are you insane? What powers does she have? She's going to get killed!"
Gwen just smirked, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Gwen have his own special skill, Harry," Peter said, tossing a secondary, much smaller flash drive to her. "She's going to bypass the biometric locks while Norman is distracted. Cindy and I are heading into the sewers to hunt the Lizard. I'm calling Inspector Stacy to coordinate the NYPD perimeter right now."
Peter looked around the black-coated room, meeting everyone's eyes. "Any questions?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGaruda
You'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
