Spider-Man: Web Of Lies

NORMAN Osborn sat in his office, staring out into the night, his reflection faint against the backdrop of New York City's towering skyline. His empire. The very city he'd helped mold, where he'd clawed his way to the top.

But tonight, the gleaming skyscrapers felt distant, like monuments to something lost. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for the glass of bourbon on his desk.

The hours...days, sometimes...vanished, slipping from his memory as though they'd never existed.

How many times now? How many moments had he blinked, only to wake up somewhere else, someone else?

A slow, suffocating dread crept up his spine as he stared at the city. Had he made a mistake?

He wasn't used to doubt. Osborns didn't doubt. They built, conquered, succeeded. But now, in the quiet moments when he felt himself slipping away, the question haunted him. Had he gone too far? Had he become something he never intended?

No. He couldn't think like that. His life—everything he'd ever done—had been in the pursuit of something greater. His work, his sacrifices, all of it was meant to elevate mankind. To bring humanity beyond its frail, mortal shell. He had done this for the world, not for himself. That's what he told himself.

But then why... why did he feel like he was crumbling?

He looked down at the newspaper on his desk, the front page glaring up at him with venom: "Spider-Man Terrorizes School After Fight With Notorious Hunter!" A menace. A nuisance.

Norman's lip curled into a sneer. A hero? He scoffed. Spider-Man was no hero. He was something greater—something more—but the fool didn't even realize it.

There was a time when Norman had admired the boy, in a way. The potential, the raw strength that he had never even asked for. Yet here he was, wasting it. Spider-Man was powerful, but Peter Parker? He was weak.

Norman's fingers tightened around the paper, the edges crinkling under the pressure of his frustration. Look at him, saving kittens, stopping muggers in alleyways, playing the Good Samaritan when he could be...

A surge of anger burned through him. Norman slammed the glass off the desk, the shattering sound filling the room as it exploded against the floor.

A waste. All of it. That power should have been his. It should have been Norman Osborn leading the next stage of human evolution, not some naive, self-righteous child.

His jaw clenched, teeth grinding as he thought about the hours he'd spent, the nights he'd sacrificed for his work. For what? To be haunted by a voice that now mocked him? To share his body with something darker, something crueler?

No. He wasn't sharing. He was in control.

But as much as he told himself that, the truth gnawed at him, festering in the corners of his mind.

The voice. It always came when he was weakest, when he was alone. The voice that told him the path to power wasn't through humanity's elevation, but through its fear. And that voice had grown louder.

His skin prickled with cold sweat, a tremor running through him as the door to his office creaked open. Norman didn't turn, though he heard the familiar, uneven footsteps behind him.

"Dad?" Harry's voice was thin, brittle. He stood in the doorway, pale, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent than usual. He looked tired—sick, even.

Norman didn't look at him, just stared out at the city. "What are you doing here, Harry? I didn't ask for you."

Harry shifted uneasily. "Yeah, I know. It's just... you haven't been home in a while, and I, uh—" He scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting to the floor. "I ran out of money, so I was hoping—"

"No." Norman's voice cut through the air like a blade. He turned to face his son, eyes narrowing in disgust. "I won't fund your pathetic habits, Harry. You're a disgrace. A waste of my blood."

Harry winced but didn't argue. He just stood there, broken and silent, staring at the floor as if he'd expected the words. Maybe he had.

For a moment, the room was silent, the tension thick enough to choke on. Then Norman's tone softened, though it was no less cruel. "Tell me, Harry. Have you seen Peter Parker lately?"

Harry blinked, caught off guard. "No. I haven't been going to school... and we're not exactly on great terms."

"Of course you're not," Norman muttered, a cold smile curling at his lips. "Even Parker can see that you're not worth his time anymore. You're weak, Harry. And Peter, he's finally realizing how wasted his efforts are with you, as have I." He chuckled, the sound low and venomous. "That'll be all."

Norman turned back to the window, but then it hit him—hard, like a hammer to the chest. The pain.

He collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest. "No... no... not now!" His voice cracked with panic as the sensation spread through his body, cold and sharp. His muscles tensed, twisted, changed.

"Dad? Dad?!" Harry rushed toward him, eyes wide in fear, but Norman shoved him away violently, snarling.

"Get out!" Norman clutched his head, his skin contorting, twisting, as if something beneath it was crawling out. His teeth sharpened, eyes blazing yellow. He could feel the other side of him, the thing that had been lurking beneath his skin, finally tearing through.

Harry's voice trembled. "What—what is happening?"

Norman's grin widened unnaturally, his skin shifting to a sickly green. He cracked his neck, his bones snapping grotesquely into place as he rose from the ground, now towering over his son. His voice, once his own, now dripped with malevolent glee.

"My son," he rasped, the words twisted by a voice not entirely his.

Harry staggered back, fear filling his eyes. "What... what...dad?"

Norman—no, the Goblin—turned to the wall, pressing a hidden switch. A door slid open, revealing the suit. The glider. The bombs. The toys he'd created to unleash fear. His laugh filled the room, echoing off the walls like a death rattle.

"Don't worry, boy," the Goblin cackled, eyes gleaming with madness. "The game is just beginning."

The weak, cowering man Norman once was had been left behind. This was the next evolution. This was power. If Peter Parker didn't understand that yet, he soon would.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, you're saying someone hired Kraven?" Captain Stacy asks as we both set the table in his cozy dining room, the smell of freshly baked lasagna wafting through the air.

"Yeah, and I'm starting to think it could've been Norman Osborn," I reply, placing a few plates in front of the chairs. "He's the only one I know who might try something like this. He was behind every other jerk I've gone up against, so it wouldn't be too crazy to assume he was involved in this too."

Captain Stacy nods, thoughtfully arranging the silverware on the plates. "Right. Then what about the one who caused all those explosions? You think that was Norman too?"

The mention of that madman makes my heart race. "I don't know what his deal was, but I wouldn't be surprised if Norman had something to do with it. His fingerprints are all over this city's chaos."

Captain Stacy sighs, running a hand through his hair. "The only problem is, from a legal standpoint, Norman's untouchable. He's kept his name out of everything. There's no way to tie him back to any of these guys, other than their word, which won't mean much in court."

I crack my jaw in frustration. "Yeah, but nobody can do so much bad and scrape everything away. There's got to be something—some way to tie him back to all of this. The Goblin pills, the creation of those suits. There has to be a lead we can follow. Wait a minute—" I say.

Captain Stacy turns to me. "Yeah?"

"There was a room, in Oscorp the day vulture held us all hostage, it was a room filled with information about something called Project reinvention. I mean it had information on just about every weird thing that's been happening the Scorpion, Rhino, I mean even Doctor Conners. I'm sure something in there could help me even find a cure for him. And maybe even help put Norman Osborn behind bars." I say, and he looks at me deep in thought.

But before Captain Stacy can respond, Gwen walks into the kitchen, her mother and younger brother trailing behind her. "Dad, please don't tell me you're talking about work stuff again," she says, rolling her eyes playfully. "We said we wouldn't do that tonight."

"Just giving Peter the dad talk," Captain Stacy replies, shooting Gwen a reassuring smile as he leans down to give Helen a quick kiss on the cheek. "And look, Peter's finished with that famous lasagna of his. How about we all dig in?"

"Perfect timing," Helen says, setting down a basket of garlic bread on the table. "I'm starving."

As everyone takes their seats, I can't help but feel a sense of normalcy wash over me. It's a stark contrast to the chaos of the past few days. The warmth of the family atmosphere makes me forget, if only for a moment, the burden I carry as Spider-Man.

"So, Peter," Helen says, a teasing glint in her eye, "I've got to admit I was a bit surprised when Gwen told me she was taking you to the homecoming. I mean, it really reminded me of when you both were kids, and Peter would always follow you around while you played pirates and princesses—"

"Mom," Gwen interjects, her voice strained. "How about we talk about something else?"

Arthur snorts, unable to resist joining in. "They're dating now, Mom. She's always up on the phone talking to him."

I feel the heat rush to my face, and I can see Gwen's cheeks flush a similar shade. "Arthur, the one time you decide to join the conversation, and it has to be something stupid."

Captain Stacy smirks, clearly enjoying my discomfort as he takes a sip of his water.

"Gwenny, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. I definitely approve. Peter is a sweet boy with a good head on his shoulders. I mean, his Aunt May still sends us Christmas letters every year. She and I are book club buddies online." She smirks at me, and I feel my embarrassment double.

"Thank you, ma'am," I manage to say, trying to keep my composure.

Helen takes a bite of the lasagna and smiles approvingly. "Peter? I didn't know you could cook so well. If I'm being honest, I expected to have to pretend to enjoy this."

"Uhm...thank...you?" I say, unsure of how to take that.

"Mom, that's rude," Gwen chimes in, frowning slightly at her mother.

"I didn't mean anything by it! Peter sure is full of surprises," Helen replies, a playful grin on her face. "So, tell me, what do you plan on doing after high school?"

Would wearing red spandex and getting the crap kicked out of me be an acceptable response? I clear my throat, trying to keep things light. "Maybe a cop. I mean, with everything Captain Stacy—George—has done, he's saved so many lives. It really is incredible."

"Oh, come on, Peter. You're no slouch yourself. I mean, look at all the people you've saved—" He quickly stops himself, clearing his throat. "—from failing...tests?"

Gwen looks between us, her curiosity piqued. "I didn't realize you both had become so buddy-buddy," she says with a teasing smile.

"Well, I'm just happy you chose someone who doesn't stick people's heads in toilets for fun," Captain Stacy says, clearly taking a dig at our favorite star quarterback. "Peter's a good kid."

I can't help but smile at his words; he really is a good guy and a great dad to Gwen. The contrast between him and Felicia's dad is stark in my mind. "Thank you, Sir," I say, genuinely appreciative.

"You're so formal, Peter," Helen chuckles, shaking her head. "You don't have to be so on edge or anything. We really do think you're a good match for our Gwen. She has a habit of attracting the wrong crowd; I'm just happy she knew how to filter through the trash."

"Mom!" Gwen protests, her cheeks now bright red. "That's rude!"

Helen raises an eyebrow, unrepentant. "What? It's true."

I can't help but laugh a little, grateful for the lightheartedness of the moment. "Hey, I'm just glad to be here," I say, feeling more relaxed. "I promise I won't stick anyone's head in a toilet."

"Good to hear," Gwen says, finally smiling, the tension easing between us.

The conversation flows easily after that, with laughter punctuating our stories about school, our plans for the future, and even some embarrassing moments from childhood. It feels so normal, almost like a refuge from the chaos outside my life as Spider-Man.

For a moment, I can forget about Norman Osborn, or Kraven or the green crazy guy, and I can just enjoy the warmth of this family gathering.

As dinner wraps up, I glance over at Gwen, who's standing beside me as we both tackle the dishes. She catches my eye, and there's this quiet smile that passes between us.

Once everything's clean, my phone buzzes. It's a text from May telling me she'll be working late tonight at the Maple, but reminding me to head home soon since the sun's setting. Guess it's time to go.

I say my goodbyes to the Stacys, getting a warm hug from Helen, a firm handshake from Captain Stacy, and a grunt from Arthur, who barely looks up from his phone. Gwen walks me to the door, and there's this lingering feeling that neither of us wants to let the moment end.

"Be safe getting home, and make sure you text me when you make it back," she says, her voice soft. "Oh, and don't forget, the new Over-Lord comic drops tomorrow. We definitely need to get there early before they sell out."

I raise an eyebrow. "Wait, I thought we dropped Over-Lord after the mess they pulled in the last issue? Didn't you say you were done?"

Gwen gives me this small smile as she leans against the door, cracking it just enough that her family can't see us. "Yeah, but I changed my mind. I think that whole twist actually makes the story more interesting... in a weird way."

I laugh softly. "Of course you did. Okay, deal. Tomorrow, then."

And then, she kisses me. It's gentle, but there's something in it—like she's telling me without words that she's glad I'm here, and part of her life now. When she pulls back, her eyes linger on mine.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she whispers.

As I turn to go, I can't help but grin like an idiot. Seriously, have I mentioned how awesome it is having a girlfriend?

I shove my hands in my pockets, glancing back one last time as she gives me that trademark Gwen smile, and I head home, feeling like maybe, just maybe, life can balance out. Even with everything else going on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walk down the street, the cool evening air settling around me, when my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen—it's Harry. My stomach tightens. He hasn't talked to me since that awkward day with Gwen. I pick up, my voice light, almost relieved.

"Harry? Hey, man, I'm glad to hear from you—"

"Pete? Pete, listen—I think something's wro—"

His voice cuts out, replaced by static.

"Harry? Hello?"

There's a brief pause, then I hear him again, his breath heavy, like he's been running. "It's my dad, Pete... something's happening. I don't—I don't know what's wrong with him."

My pulse spikes, fear creeping into my chest. "Harry, what do you mean? What's going on? Where are you?"

The line crackles, more silence. Then, from the other end, a sound that freezes me in place—a low, guttural laugh. One I recognize too well. Him. That man.

My throat tightens. That laugh has haunted me, waking me up in cold sweats. The memories flash in my mind—the destruction, the bodies, the family he slaughtered...

He's after Norman.

"Harry!" I shout, panic rising in my voice. "I'm calling the police, just tell me where you are!"

His breathing quickens. "No... Pete, don't! We're at Oscorp, but—"

The line goes dead.

For a second, all I hear is the sound of my own heart, pounding so hard it feels like it's trying to escape my chest. That man. The one who caused so much death. The one I couldn't stop. He's at Oscorp—and Harry's trapped in there with him.

I don't hesitate. I dash into a nearby alley, the shadows swallowing me as I yank off my jacket. My suit is already beneath my clothes, the fabric clinging to me like a second skin. I pull my mask from my pocket, my hands shaking slightly. I won't let him hurt Harry. I won't let anyone else die.

With the mask in place, I pull out my phone and quickly dial Captain Stacy.

"Peter? Forget something?" he answers, his tone casual, unaware of the storm brewing.

"It's him," I say, my voice sharp, laced with urgency. "The one behind the bombings—he's going after Norman Osborn. And Harry's there with him!"

There's a pause, tension thickening in the air. "Peter, listen to me—don't do anything rash. I'll get some men together and—"

"There's no time!" I snap, cutting him off, already leaping onto a nearby wall and swinging into the night, the city lights blurring beneath me. "Just get there. I'll make sure no one else dies!"

I hang up, my heart hammering in my chest, my mind racing. The wind rushes past me as I pick up speed, Oscorp's looming silhouette growing closer in the distance. I ditch my clothes in an alley along with my phone, but that laugh still echoes in my head again, taunting me.

I grit my teeth, the cold night air biting at my face through the mask.

Not again. Not this time. Nobody else dies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oscorp's lobby is calm when I bust through the doors—too calm. Security guards and employees all freeze, staring at me like I've lost it.

"Where's Norman Osborn?!" My voice cuts through the quiet, and the guards move in fast, hands tightening around their tasers.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the premises. You can't just—"

Before he finishes, the ceiling above us caves in with a deafening crash. Instinct kicks in. I shoot a webline, yanking two of the guards out of harm's way as chunks of debris smash into the floor, sending dust and smoke everywhere. The rest scatter, coughing and disoriented.

Then I hear it—the sickening, familiar laughter.

Through the haze, the green figure I hoped I'd never see again emerges, perched on his glider. And in his hand, limp and unconscious, is Harry.

"Ready for another game?" the Goblin grins, his voice dripping with malice. Before I can react, he flings Harry's body toward me like he's nothing.

I dive forward, webbing Harry's torso mid-air and yanking him into my arms, skidding backward across the floor. I check his pulse—it's faint, but he's alive. Just unconscious.

"What did you do to him?! Where's Norman?!" I shout, glaring up at the Goblin as rage courses through me.

His grin widens, twisted and cruel. "Norman's on vacation. It's only the Goblin now."

My stomach drops. Vacation?

The Goblin edges closer on his glider, an orange bomb already in his hand. The last time he used one of those, people died. And I wasn't fast enough to stop it.

Not this time.

My senses scream at me to move, and I leap to the side just as he hurls the bomb at the ground. The explosion rocks the lobby, fire and debris scattering everywhere. I shield Harry's body as best as I can, rolling behind a fallen chunk of wall for cover.

"Come on! You want answers don't you?!" The Goblin's voice rings out over the chaos. "Let's see if you're brave enough to get them!"

I clench my fists, placing Harry on a safe spot behind a pillar. "Stay here," I mutter, though I know he can't hear me. Then, heart pounding, I turn back toward the wreckage, the Goblin's laughter echoing through the ruined building.

If he wants a fight, I'll give him one.

The Goblin doesn't waste time. He darts toward me on his glider, his grin wide as he fires a rapid volley of bullets from twin turrets mounted under his boots. I dive behind an overturned desk as the shots tear through the walls, showering sparks and bits of debris.

"Come on, Spider-Man!" the Goblin cackles, swooping low and dropping an orange bomb into the middle of the room. The device ticks ominously before detonating, sending a shockwave through the building.

I barely manage to shield two nearby security guards with a webbed barrier. The blast knocks me back into a wall, my ears ringing.

People scream and scramble for cover as the Goblin continues his assault, tossing more bombs into the chaos. I dodge left, flipping over a desk to yank a worker out of the way just before another bomb hits. The heat singes my skin, and I feel the sting of shrapnel cut through my suit, but I push forward.

"Stay down!" I shout at the terrified bystanders, webbing them into a safe corner. The Goblin laughs again, circling above like a predator toying with its prey.

"You're getting sloppy, Spider-Man! All this worrying about the little people... it'll get you killed."

I grit my teeth, scanning the room for an opening. He's too fast in the air, too mobile. I need to get him grounded. That's when an idea strikes.

I leap onto a column, flipping through the air just as the Goblin swoops in close. I time it perfectly, launching myself off the pillar and kicking him square in the chest.

He grunts in surprise as he's knocked backward, crashing through the shattered glass of the lobby and out onto the street.

I land with a roll, springing up to see the Goblin staggering to his feet. His glider hovers nearby, ready to rejoin him. We circle each other in the middle of the road, the night air thick with tension.

"You're resilient, I'll give you that," the Goblin sneers, wiping blood from his lip. "But I wanted you ready for this. That's why I sent Kraven after you, Spider-Man."

I freeze. "Kraven? You sent him?"

The Goblin's eyes gleam with amusement. "Oh, yes. A little warm-up, to get you nice and prepared for our next meeting."

My fists tighten. "What are you—"

"I've been waiting to meet with you again after our last encounter, planning all sorts of fun activities," the Goblin says, his voice dripping with malice, but I don't have time to process his words because his glider rockets toward me.

I barely dive out of the way, feeling the rush of air as the glider zips past, cutting it too close. I fire a web at it, trying to yank it off course, but the Goblin snaps his fingers, and the glider loops back around, smashing through a parked car before zeroing in on me again.

I throw myself into a forward roll, dodging by inches as the glider crashes into a lamppost, shattering it to pieces.

The Goblin is on me in seconds, throwing wild punches, and I meet him blow for blow. We trade hits, every punch sending shockwaves of pain through my body.

The Goblin's strength matches mine, and I can feel the fatigue setting in. He's fast—too fast—and I'm barely keeping up. But then he plays dirty.

"Let's make it interesting, shall we?" he growls, grabbing a passing civilian by the collar and flinging them toward oncoming traffic. I'm forced to leap out of the way, firing a webline to save the man just before he's hit.

The Goblin uses the distraction to hit me hard in the ribs. I feel something crack, the pain radiating through my side. I stumble, trying to catch my breath as he throws another bomb toward a crowd of fleeing people.

No time to think. I web the bomb mid-air, swinging it into an empty alley before it detonates. I turn back just in time to catch a punch aimed at my face, twisting the Goblin's arm and kicking him back with everything I have left.

The street is chaos—civilians fleeing in all directions, cars swerving to avoid the wreckage, the Goblin cackling in the midst of it all. But I can't give him an inch.

I won't let him win.

Suddenly, sirens blare in the distance, and a line of squad cars comes skidding into view, forming a blockade around the area.

"Freeze!" Captain Stacy's voice booms through a megaphone, and I see him stepping out of his car, gun drawn. Officers pour out, surrounding the Goblin.

He grins, his eyes flicking from me to the line of officers, then back again. "Well, looks like we've got company."

For a moment, everything is still, the tension thick.

"You won't get away," I pant, my fists still clenched.

The Goblin's grin twists into something far more sinister, his eyes gleaming with a madness that chills me to my core.

He begins to laugh—loud, crazed, filling the night air with that maniacal sound that makes my skin crawl. The kind of laugh that makes you realize just how much danger everyone around you is in.

Suddenly, the windows of the Oscorp building above us start shattering from explosions, one after another, glass raining down like deadly shards from the sky.

Screams erupt from the people below as they dive for cover, and I leap into action, webbing a few of the larger glass panels before they can hit the street.

But it's too much. Too fast. Chaos everywhere.

The Goblin's laugh echoes louder. He reaches into his belt, pulling out one of those damn orange bombs, and hurls it straight at me. "Catch!" he roars.

I barely have time to react, diving to the side as the bomb detonates. The shockwave slams into me, sending me skidding across the pavement.

Before I can get up, he's looming over me, his face twisted in that terrible grin. "Maybe it's time to raise the stakes, Spider-Man. Maybe I'll pay a little visit to a certain diner. Wouldn't that make things more... interesting?"

My heart stops.

The Maple. Aunt May's there. With Felicia.

I feel the blood drain from my face. "No," I whisper, my voice barely audible. He knows. Somehow, he knows.

The Goblin cackles again, hopping onto his glider. "Yes. Let's see how you do when the people you care about are in play."

"No!" I shout, scrambling to my feet, but it's too late. He rockets into the air, veering toward the building and launching another bomb into its side.

The explosion rips through the structure, blasting chunks of concrete and metal into the streets below. I can barely process the devastation as debris comes crashing down.

I spot a man and a woman frozen in the path of the falling rubble, and I'm moving before I even think.

In a heartbeat, I'm there, planting myself between them and the oncoming destruction. My hands shoot up, webbing a massive chunk of falling concrete and catching the rest with my bare hands.

The weight is crushing, my muscles screaming in protest, but I hold firm, gritting my teeth as I protect them.

"Go! Now!" I yell, sweat running down my face as the pressure bears down on me. The couple scrambles to their feet, fleeing as I struggle to hold the collapsing structure above my head.

But then, I hear it—a small whimper, barely audible over the chaos.

I turn my head, just in time to see a boy—no older than eight—clutching his knee, blood pooling around his leg. He's trapped, staring up at the falling debris, frozen in terror.

My heart lurches. "No, no, no!" I shout, pushing harder against the weight. I need to save him. I have to save him. But I can't move. If I let go, the whole thing will come crashing down.

The rubble creaks, the sound of metal groaning as it buckles under the strain. I know I can't hold it much longer.

The boy looks at me, tears streaming down his face.

"Someone, help!" I cry out, desperation clawing at my throat. "Please!"

And then I see him. Captain Stacy. He's running toward the boy, no hesitation in his eyes. "Get down!" he shouts, throwing himself forward, grabbing the boy and shoving him out of the way just as the rubble collapses.

But I see it. The second Captain Stacy realizes there's no escape for him. I can see it in his face, and I know...that I won't be able to save him in time.

"No!" My voice cracks, raw and broken as I watch in horror. The debris crashes down, burying Captain Stacy beneath it.

For a moment, everything stops. The world around me falls away. I don't hear the screams, the sirens, the chaos. All I hear is the sound of my own breath, coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

I shove the rubble aside with all the strength I have left, rushing to where Captain Stacy was standing. The boy is safe, his eyes wide and horrified, but alive. But Captain Stacy...

I fall to my knees beside the fallen rubble, pulling away the wreckage piece by piece until I find him.

His body, crushed beneath the weight, his face pale, lips parted as if he was trying to say something. I can't breathe. I can't think.

"Captain..."

His eyes flutter open, barely, and he looks up at me, his breathing labored, shallow. "He..Hey.. ki...kid.." he rasps.

I grab his hand, squeezing it tight, tears burning my eyes. "I-I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

He coughs weakly, a thin trail of blood trickling from his mouth. "Listen...I just need you to...listen..."

I shake my head, choking on my own words. "I should've... I should've done more... I should've—"

He squeezes my hand, the strength in his grip fading. "Peter....my Gwen... after I'm gone..." he coughs, "she'll need someone to watch—watch out for her...she loves...you...so much..." he squeezes my hand tighter. "Be good to her....son...be good to...her.."

"I promise." My voice cracks, the weight of the promise crushing me just as the rubble did to him. "I promise. I promise."

And then... his hand goes limp. His chest stills.

I scream. A raw, guttural cry that echoes through the streets, filled with all the pain, the guilt, the helplessness. My whole body shakes as I hold Captain Stacy's lifeless body, every fiber of my being torn apart as I look at the man who gave his life... for me. For them.

The sounds of sirens grow louder, police cars and ambulances screeching to a halt, officers rushing toward us, but it's too late. Captain Stacy is gone.

I sit there, holding his hand, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on me. The weight of the lives I couldn't save.

And the Goblin's laughter echoes in my head.

As I sit there, holding Captain Stacy's hand, everything feels like it's moving in slow motion. The sirens blur into the background as more police cars and ambulances swarm the scene. The officers who had witnessed the fight are mostly down, injured or unconscious from the explosions and debris.

But the new ones—they didn't see the Goblin. They didn't see anything but me, kneeling beside their fallen captain.

"Freeze!" a voice shouts, harsh and commanding, cutting through the chaos. I look up, my vision blurred by tears and exhaustion, and see several officers emerging from their cars, guns drawn, faces hard with suspicion and confusion.

I stand, still gripping Captain Stacy's hand, trying to form the words. "I-I didn't... I couldn't save him..."

"Hands in the air!" another officer yells, stepping closer, his finger hovering dangerously close to the trigger.

"I'm not... I'm not the one who did this!" I stammer, my voice cracking. "It was that man—he—he did this! I tried to—"

"On the ground, now!" one of them demands, their tone sharp and unforgiving. They're not listening. They don't care. All they see is Spider-Man—someone they don't trust, someone they think might have had a hand in this.

I glance down at Captain Stacy one last time. His eyes are closed, his face peaceful now, as if the pain had finally left him. My chest tightens, guilt and grief threatening to pull me under.

But I can't stay. I can't let the Goblin get away. Not after everything he's done. Not with Aunt May in danger.

"George," I whisper, my voice barely audible, "I'm sorry."

I step back, lifting my hands slightly, as if to comply. The officers edge closer, their guns still trained on me, tension hanging thick in the air.

And then I move.

With a burst of speed, I leap into the air, shooting a web to the nearest building and yanking myself upward, out of their line of fire. I hear the officers shouting behind me, but I don't stop. I can't stop. Not now.

I swing faster, the wind whipping against my face as I close in on the diner, my mind spinning. Aunt May. Felicia. Harry's still back at Oscorp. The weight of it all presses down on me, but I push through. I have to.

Then I see it. Flames, billowing up from inside the Maple Diner. My heart drops into my stomach.

"No...no, no, no..."

I land hard outside the diner, barely sticking the landing. The heat from the flames hits me like a wall, but I force myself to push through. I have to get to them. I have to save them.

Inside, the chaos is overwhelming. The fire roars, devouring the booths and tables. Smoke chokes the air, and the heat is unbearable. I cough, trying to see through the thick haze. That's when I spot her—Felicia—struggling to lift a massive piece of rubble. Underneath it, Aunt May lies motionless, her eyes closed, her face pale.

"Felicia!" I shout, rushing toward them.

Felicia looks up, her face streaked with soot, panic in her eyes. "Parker! She's trapped! I...I can't—"

I drop down beside her, wrapping my arms around the rubble. "Don't worry. Don't worry." My voice shakes, but I push all the fear aside. I have to be strong. For her. For Aunt May.

With a grunt, I lift the rubble, my muscles screaming in protest. Felicia pulls Aunt May free, dragging her away from the flames. My heart pounds in my ears as I strain, throwing the debris aside.

"Parker, the man who did this is still—" Felicia tries to warn me, but it's too late.

A flash of orange fills my vision as a bomb lands near us, already exploding before I can react. I dive, covering Felicia and Aunt May with my body as the blast tears through the diner.

My suit burns, my skin sears from the heat and shrapnel, but I hold on, refusing to let anything happen to them.

Pain shoots through me, but I grit my teeth. My mask is torn, my skin exposed and scorched. Felicia coughs beneath me, her eyes wide with fear.

"Parker, your—"

Before she can finish, I feel a brutal force slam into me. My world spins as I'm hurled across the diner, crashing into the wall so hard it knocks the wind out of me.

The Goblin's laugh echoes through the flames, a deep, menacing sound that makes my blood run cold.

"Peter Parker," he sneers, his voice full of cruel amusement. "All that power, and yet here you are, scrambling to save the ones you love like an insect underfoot."

I try to stand, but before I can even get to my knees, he's on me. His gloved fist crashes into my face, again and again, each hit sending shockwaves through my skull.

Felicia screams from somewhere behind me, but I can't focus, can't do anything but take the beating. My vision blurs, blood dripping down my face.

He lifts me by the collar, his grotesque grin inches from my face. "You disappoint me, Spider-Man. Strong enough to have it all. Too weak to take it!"

I struggle in his grip, gasping for breath, but his hand is like iron around my throat. He leans in closer, his yellow eyes gleaming with malice. "This game? It's only just beginning. But the next time we meet..." His smile widens, cruel and mocking. "It'll be the last. I have no use for someone who refuses to see the potential in his power."

With that, he drops me, my body crumpling to the floor like a rag doll. The pain is overwhelming, but through it all, I hear the roar of his glider as he leaps onto it, laughing maniacally.

He blasts a hole through the wall of the diner, flames erupting around him as he flies off into the night.

I lie there, gasping for breath, barely able to move. My body feels like it's been shattered into a thousand pieces, and my mind is spinning, lost in the chaos. The fire, the fight, the Goblin's taunts—they all blur together. Then I hear Felicia's voice, desperate, trembling.

"Peter? Peter, can you... can you hear me? Please, get up. Please don't die." She says, attempting to lift me.

I cough, tasting blood in my mouth, my throat burning. "Not... me," I manage to croak, my voice barely above a whisper. "We have to get... May. We have to get her... out."

Felicia's eyes well with tears, but she nods, swallowing her fear. "O-Okay, okay, I'll help you both, just..." She reaches again to help me up, but I push her hand away, my muscles screaming in protest.

"No," I rasp, my voice firm. "Help May. Get her out."

Felicia looks at me for a moment, her eyes full of hesitation. I can see the urge to argue, to say I'm too hurt to keep going. But there's no time, and she knows it. Finally, she nods, turning toward Aunt May, struggling to lift her body.

Everything in me is telling me to stop, to just lie there, to give in to the pain, to let it all fade away. But I can't. Not when May is still in danger. I drag myself to my feet, my entire body trembling, every step agony. Somehow, I make it to Felicia, and together we lift Aunt May, carrying her out of the burning diner.

As we step into the cool night air, I collapse onto the street, after barely managing to lay May down gently. The police haven't arrived yet, the streets eerily silent except for the crackle of flames behind us.

Felicia rushes to me as I struggle to keep upright, her voice frantic. "Peter, who... who was that? What's happening?"

I look at her, my mind racing. She's asking for answers I don't want to give. Answers I barely have the strength to face myself. The Goblin... I know who he is. I didn't want to believe it...I couldn't...but now... now I'm certain.

It's Norman Osborn.

"Felicia," I whisper, my voice hoarse. "Stay with May... I-I have to go."

Felicia's grip tightens on my arm, her eyes full of fear and frustration. "No, you're not going anywhere. Look at you! How long do you think you can keep doing this? How many more times before—" Her voice cracks. "Before you get yourself killed?"

Her words hit me harder than any of the Goblin's blows. She's right. How long can I keep doing this? How many more times can I survive? I fall to my knees, the weight of everything crashing down on me at once. The tears come, hot and relentless.

For Harry.

For Gwen, who will soon know the same grief I've lived with for so long.

For May, for Captain Stacy, for every person I've failed.

I'm not enough. I've never been enough.

Felicia kneels beside me, her arms wrapping around me as I break down. She doesn't say anything, just holds me as I cry. The sobs tear through me, deep and raw, the weight of all my failures crashing down like an avalanche.

The wail of sirens grows louder, and I wipe my face, trying to pull myself together. "I-I have to go. Please, keep her safe," I say, standing shakily.

Felicia looks up at me, her hand catching mine. "Peter, you're not alone." Her voice is soft but firm.

I don't respond. I can't. Instead, I turn away and swing off into the night, every movement a reminder of the wounds I've suffered, both inside and out.

I make my way back to Oscorp, landing on the roof with a heavy thud. The scene below is chaos—paramedics loading people into ambulances, bodies covered by white sheets being zipped into body bags. The weight of it all presses down on my chest like a vice.

One of those body bags...is holding the body of George Stacy.

I see Harry, being led to an ambulance by a pair of officers. His face is blank, empty. My heart clenches as I watch him, knowing I failed him too.

I couldn't stop the Goblin.

I swing away again, trying to shake the image of the body bags, of Harry's vacant stare. But it's no use. It all follows me, haunting me, no matter how fast I try to escape.

I land on a rooftop across from George Stacy's house. It's quiet, too quiet, like the world is holding its breath. I sit there for a while, letting the stillness wash over me, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the chaos I bring won't touch this place.

But then I see the car pull up, a police cruiser. My heart sinks, already knowing what's about to happen. The officer steps out, slowly walking up to the front door. He takes off his hat as Gwen opens the door, her face confused.

Then I hear it.

Her scream.

It cuts through the night, raw and filled with a pain so deep it shakes me to my core. Her mother rushes to her side, and soon she's crying too, both of them collapsing into each other as the officer delivers the news that will change their lives forever.

I sit there, frozen, watching the two women break apart in front of me, and all I can do is watch.

George asked me to take care of her, to be good to her. I wish I would've told him...told him I love her, that I'd cherish her forever.

But how can I? How can I love her, when I know the truth?

If she ever finds out that her father died because of me... what then?

The weight of it all crushes me as I sit there, unable to move, unable to speak. Just watching the devastation that I've caused.

And knowing, deep down, that nothing will ever be the same again.