In the dimly lit laboratory, a cold container sat on a stainless steel table—its cylindrical body about as thick as a human forearm. It pulsed with a haunting blue glow, casting faint light over Nathan's face.
Etched on the side in clean, bold text:
"Artificial Radioactive Chemical Substance No. 7."
Nathan's breath caught. His eyes lit up.
He hadn't dared to hope it would actually be here. But the old truck driver—torn between guilt and fear—had buried it under the poplar tree after all.
It made sense now. All the clues pointed to this moment. The driver had discovered the horrifying truth about the chemical he was transporting. Guilt had gnawed at his conscience. He wanted to report it. But fear held him back.
And so, he hid a portion of the chemical beneath the tree, hoping it might serve as evidence—a message to someone like Nathan, someday.
"Smart man," Nathan murmured, staring at the container.
"This… this changes everything."
He turned to his small companion—Little Spider-Man peeked out from his chest pocket, sensing his excitement. The tiny creature clapped its hands joyfully, then mimed cupping its hands around its head as if holding enormous ears.
Nathan chuckled, understanding the gesture.
"Yes," he said. "We're going to copy Daredevil's super hearing."
A low rumble rolled through the clouds above.
Nathan looked up. "Thunder. I need to get this back before the rain."
He sealed the container back inside its case, shoveled dirt over the pit, and ran to his car, tires skidding as he raced back to the lab.
On the way, he messaged Daredevil:
"Come to the lab. We're starting the next phase."
Moments later, another notification popped up—a message from Kurt.
> "Boss! The Lizard Optimization Serum is finished! Ten doses complete! Want me to bring some over?"
Nathan smiled. "Finally."
He typed:
> "Bring four doses to the secret lab. One for Daredevil's eyes. Three for backup."
Kurt replied instantly:
> "On it!"
---
Elsewhere, in a narrow alleyway drenched in neon gloom, Daredevil was fighting off a gang of armed thugs.
He was relentless, brutal, precise—but still, only human. Each strike left bruises, each parry drained stamina. He was breathing hard, drenched in sweat, blood trickling from his lip.
Twelve gangsters down. Several more to go.
Then—his phone buzzed.
Daredevil checked the screen. Nathan's message.
His jaw clenched.
"...The lab. Again."
He stared at the glowing message. The gang members groaned beneath him, writhing in pain.
He sighed, looked up at the thundering clouds.
"I'd rather be stabbed than go through another one of his experiments," he muttered.
He hailed a cab.
---
Back at Osborn Corporation, a repair technician named Max was hunched over a circuit panel on one of the upper floors.
"MAX!" barked a sharp voice from behind him.
A stiff-suited man with a face like a hawk strode up. "Do you think we pay you to slack off?! Power outages in this building cost us millions!"
Max fumbled with his tools. "I—I'm sorry. I checked everything, but electrical faults happen—"
"No excuses! Either you finish this tonight, or don't come in tomorrow!"
Max shrank under the pressure.
He turned back to the panel, muttering, "It's not even storming yet…"
But the sky growled ominously.
---
Back in the lab, Nathan arrived just as Kurt entered, carrying a black case.
Nathan opened it. Four glass vials of crimson-red serum shimmered inside.
The Lizard Optimization Serum.
It had taken months of genetic engineering and regeneration research. Now it was ready.
Nathan handed one vial to Kurt. "Use it. Restore your arm."
Kurt trembled. He took the vial like it was made of gold.
"Th-thank you, Boss."
He pressed the base. A small needle popped out. He stabbed it into his arm.
A low hiss sounded as the liquid entered his bloodstream.
Almost immediately—Kurt gasped. His stump began to itch—then writhe.
Tiny buds of flesh emerged and twisted together, forming veins, ligaments, bone.
An entire arm grew back before his eyes.
He stared at his new hand, flexing each finger with disbelief. "Is… is this really mine?"
Nathan nodded. "Welcome back to wholeness."
Kurt bowed deeply. "I owe you everything. Thank you."
Nathan clapped him on the shoulder. "Go home. Surprise your wife."
Kurt beamed as he walked out, cradling his new arm like a gift.
---
Now came the dangerous part.
Nathan entered the sealed isolation chamber. Inside was a sterile lab environment built to handle radiation exposure.
He placed the container of Chemical Substance No. 7 on the workbench.
Though its housing suppressed much of the radiation, once opened, its effects could be lethal.
He put on his protective suit and activated containment protocols.
Radiation was nothing to take lightly—
150 rad: exposure without death, but risk of long-term mutations
400+ rad: 5% mortality
650+ rad: lethal
And worse, the real threat wasn't immediate—it lingered in genes, rewriting DNA for generations.
Nathan opened the container. The glow intensified.
He inserted the chemical into specialized machinery, running radiation simulation tests and genetic impact scans.
Within minutes, data streamed across the monitors.
> "Subject genome impacted: gene 34 mutated. Sequence shift noted..."
> "Point mutation at gene 145—adenine converted to guanine…"
> "Oxidative dehydrogenation in gene 321—cytosine transformed into uracil…"
He traced the full sequence of how the chemical restructured Daredevil's DNA.
Everything was coming together.
It was like assembling the pieces of a lost puzzle—each gene shift a story, each sequence a step toward evolution.
Hours passed.
Daredevil arrived quietly, grim-faced.
Nathan didn't even turn around. "Lay down. The final phase begins."
Daredevil obeyed, dread thick in his chest.
Little Spider-Man perched on a lab bench, watching with big, concerned eyes.
---
Nathan compiled the final simulations.
Then—success.
A message popped up:
> "Simulation successful. Ability Re-Engraving Possible."
He pumped his fist.
"It worked."
He was now ready to engrave the same ability—Daredevil's super-hearing—into his own body.
He loaded the replicated sequence into the bio-resonance injector.
Needles descended.
He didn't flinch.
The machine hissed.
Pain blossomed inside his skull. Heat surged through his auditory nerves.
His eardrums began to change. Internal structures shifted.
New membranes formed. Extra nerves branched. A secondary tympanic organ grew.
Super hearing. Reborn.
Outside the chamber, Little Spider-Man held its breath, gripping its own face in anticipation.
Sweat trickled down its tiny brow.
Then—
it was done.
Nathan emerged from the chamber.
He stood still. Listened.
He could hear it all.
The hum of the air filter. The pulse in Daredevil's veins. The faint scrape of Spider-Man's claws on metal.
Everything was louder. Sharper. Clearer.
He blinked, stunned.
"It's done," he whispered. "I can hear… everything."
And then—
CRACK-BOOOOOM!
Lightning lit up the sky outside.
A massive bolt struck the Osborn Building.
The entire structure trembled.
Power surged. Lights flickered. Alarms blared.
Nathan's new hearing overloaded instantly.
He staggered, hands over his ears.
"Aagh! Too much!"
But deep inside—
he smiled.
He had succeeded.
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