A pale figure lunged toward Nathan with alarming speed, fist crashing through the air.
Spider Telepathy surged in Nathan's mind—his instincts kicked in before logic did. He twisted sideways mid-air, firing a web to the nearest building, swinging around to dodge the oncoming blow with acrobatic grace.
He landed swiftly on a rooftop, just in time to glance back.
That aura—those movements—it wasn't just any attacker. It was Gwen. Ghost-Spider.
Nathan blinked. "Why is Gwen here?"
Then it clicked.
He remembered the police officer he encountered earlier—middle-aged, friendly, mentioned his daughter on the phone.
George Stacy. That must've been her father.
Gwen must've come to the station to deliver food and coincidentally triggered her Spider-Sense, sensing another spider-empowered being.
Back on the ground, Gwen had just arrived at the precinct when her own Spider-Sense activated. But it didn't signal danger—just… resonance. Familiarity.
And then she saw it: a masked figure leaping out from the fifth floor, launching web lines into the night.
Her eyes widened. "Spider-Man?"
There were only two spider-ability users in all of New York—herself, and the mysterious new Spider-Man.
With no time to think, she shed her jacket, sprinted toward the shadowy figure, and fired her own webs to follow.
In moments, they both landed on opposing rooftops, facing each other under the moonlight.
"Spider-Man!" Gwen called out as she ran toward Nathan, firing web strands as she approached. "Why did you break into the police station?!"
Nathan's Spider Telepathy activated again—he dodged with precision.
She charged forward, trying to grab him. Nathan flipped backward, covered his eyes with one arm, and unleashed a blinding flash of light.
Gwen reflexively shielded her face—but the blast of force sent her flying.
She plummeted from the rooftop, spun mid-air, and fired a web to anchor herself against a wall, clinging to it with effort. She shot another web upward and catapulted herself back to the rooftop, landing in a crouch.
But Nathan was gone.
Her arms trembled from the earlier impact. "His strength… it's overwhelming. Is this the real extent of Spider-Man's power?" A twinge of doubt crept into her mind.
She turned her gaze back to the precinct. "Why did he infiltrate the station? What was he looking for?"
Gwen returned to the trees near the building, slipped her coat back on, and approached the front doors casually.
At the entrance stood George Stacy, looking around. When he spotted his daughter, his brow furrowed. "Gwen? Why were you over there?"
Gwen grinned, "Saw a stray cat. Went over to pet it."
She handed him a takeout bag. "Here's your favorite: cheeseburger, Iron Man style."
George chuckled, visibly relaxing. "You're the best, sweetheart."
They chatted for a bit. Then Gwen asked subtly, "Hey… heard there was a power outage on the fifth floor. Everything okay?"
George waved it off. "Probably just the circuit breaker tripping. It's been ages since anything like that happened."
Gwen kept her thoughts to herself, but she knew—Spider-Man must've done something significant.
---
Meanwhile, Nathan swung through the city skyline, thoughts racing.
"Time to find that truck driver. The file said his address is nearby…"
He arrived at a modest, aging single-family house nestled in a quiet neighborhood. He perched on the roof, opened a window, and slipped inside.
He paused, listening.
Two steady sets of breathing. Adults, asleep.
He crept into the living room, scanning photos. None matched the man he was looking for. Only a young couple lived here.
He exhaled. "Looks like the driver moved… or someone else took over this home."
Back outside, Nathan pulled out his phone and hacked into the police database once again.
The result appeared within seconds—and brought a frown to his face.
The driver had died. A heart attack. Just a month after Daredevil's accident.
Suspicious timing.
Nathan traced the man's background. Local trucking company. Survived by a wife and son. The son had moved to Seattle. The wife remained in the city.
"This feels too convenient…" Nathan muttered. "That chemical… No. 7 Artificial Radioactive Substance… There's something more to it."
He sent a message to Emily: "Check on the driver's old company and locate his widow. Let's see what we're missing."
For now, he closed his laptop and decided to rest.
Tomorrow would be about training. And if he wanted to reach 24 tons, he needed sleep.
---
Elsewhere…
Inside a heavily guarded military base, General Ross walked with a team of stern-looking researchers across a concrete field.
"It's time," Ross said gruffly. "We're pushing Carl to the next phase."
A researcher nodded. "Yes, General. Carl's strength and durability can still be enhanced. The first experiment wasn't complete—his body is functioning below its full potential."
Another chimed in, "Right now, his strength is fixed. There's no further growth—no evolution. Without a complete experiment, the limits remain sealed."
"And worst of all," the first added, "his current state shortens his lifespan. At this rate, his body will burn out."
Ross growled. "Then do it. Perfect the enhancement."
One scientist hesitated. "But sir… if we push Carl further, he might become too powerful. He's already unstable. If he breaks loose again…"
Ross's eyes narrowed. "I'll bring in Hatred to control him."
"Hatred?" The researcher nearly choked. "Are you serious? That guy will make everything worse!"
Ross sighed, tension thick in his shoulders. "I don't have a choice. Only Hatred can control Carl if something goes wrong. He's the only one we have left willing to get involved in these experiments."
No one responded.
Eventually, one scientist muttered, "Fine. We'll start tomorrow."
---
The next morning
Nathan woke up at dawn. His eyes were sharp. His body, full of energy.
Today was the day he challenged 24 tons.
A blur zipped across his room—a small spider-like creature darted to the table, saluting proudly. It was the little Spider-Mascot, his loyal training partner.
Nathan smiled. "You're pumped up too, huh?"
The little creature's eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. It wiggled like a cheerleader and raised both its front legs, ready for war.
"I'll freshen up first," Nathan said. "Then we train."
He sent Emily a message: "Investigate that trucking company. Also the widow."
Then he jumped into the bathroom to prep for the day.
---
Downstairs, Emily sat at a desk, looking miserable. Her father hovered nearby, forcing her to sit through another remote tutoring session.
She perked up when Nathan walked by. "Good morning!"
Nathan grinned. "Training time."
The little Spider-Mascot popped its head out of Nathan's pocket and waved at her, then promptly retreated like a mole.
Outside, Nathan arrived at the Osborn training facility.
Kurt greeted him. "Boss, I've started digging. Should have results by noon."
Nathan nodded and walked into the gym.
Inside, rows of futuristic equipment glowed under artificial light.
He approached the largest station.
"I've hit 23 tons," he whispered. "I can feel the lightning. It stirs inside me, but I can't command it yet…"
One more step. One more ton. Then he'd unlock the Thunder Cells.
He strapped on the electrical stimulators, rolled his shoulders, and braced himself.
Time for pain.
Boom. Boom. BOOM.
The machine trembled under the strain as Nathan lifted the weights—his arms shuddering, his muscles burning.
Across the room, the little Spider-Mascot tied a red bandana around its head like a war hero and began lifting tiny dumbbells with intense focus.
Together, man and spider trained under the relentless weight of ambition.
Sweat dripped like rain from Nathan's face, soaking his clothes. His legs buckled—but he pushed on.
Every fiber of his body screamed.
But he refused to stop.
"One more…" he grunted. "Just a few more…"
And then it happened.
He broke through.
Inside his cells, something ignited—a powerful surge of bioelectricity burst awake. It wasn't random anymore. It was alive. Controlled.
He sat upright, heart pounding.
For the first time… he could feel the lightning at his command.
He looked at his hands.
"Electricity," he whispered, "come."
Crackling sparks flickered across his fingertips.
---
At that very moment…
A plane landed at LaGuardia Airport. A tall, elegant woman with long green hair stepped out.
She wore dark sunglasses, heels clicking on the pavement.
Her voice was soft and dangerous.
"Nathan… I'm here."
Behind her, HYDRA agents followed like shadows.
"Any sign of him?" she asked.
One replied, "Not yet. But if he's in New York, we'll find him."
She nodded. "Good."
Madame Viper had entered the game.
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