Nathan stood in the middle of the Osborn training facility, breath steady, body soaked in sweat. His veins pulsed with exertion, but there was something new—a tingle deep in his cells. Then, all at once, a surge of electricity burst from his core, racing like a stream toward his hands.
Crackling arcs exploded from his palms, so bright they lit up the room with bluish-white light. The air sizzled around him. Heat radiated with every bolt.
Nathan stared, eyes wide.
"I… I finally summoned it."
He clenched his fists—and the lightning vanished instantly.
His chest rose and fell as he breathed heavily, but his lips curled into a triumphant smile. He had awakened the energy—lightning born from within.
Beside him, Little Spider-Man collapsed onto the floor with a tiny thud, gasping. The small companion's big eyes gleamed with the same pride, and it squeaked out a soft "Mmm~" in delight.
Nathan reached out and offered a fist.
Little Spider-Man lifted a trembling front leg and tapped his fist.
Fist bump. Victory.
"Now," Nathan said with renewed determination, "we recover… and then we test the output."
After a brief rest and a nutrient-packed energy drink, they made their way to the testing chamber.
Nathan stood before the conductive target. He raised one hand and focused.
The power roared inside him again—bioelectricity surged forward, pooling into his palm like coiled lightning.
Then—release.
A brilliant arc shot forward, striking the conductive plate with force.
The screen beside it lit up.
Voltage: 50,000 volts.
Nathan nodded in satisfaction.
"This... This can work as a finishing move."
His inner energy reserves—the special bioelectricity flowing through his cells—were still limited. He could only fire off a few high-voltage blasts before draining himself. Recovery would be slow, relying on natural replenishment.
But that didn't matter.
He finally had an energy-based attack method.
And it was only the beginning.
Just then, a message pinged on his phone. It was from Kurt.
The address of the driver's old convoy and his widow.
Without delay, Nathan grabbed Little Spider-Man and headed out.
---
Elsewhere in New York, in a shadowy alleyway…
A group of individuals stood quietly.
"Someone's asking about Radioactive Chemical Substance No. 7."
"They also mentioned the truck driver from years ago."
"...So someone's finally digging up old secrets."
"Too dangerous. Take care of it."
"Understood."
---
Nathan arrived at the old transport company first.
He questioned the workers—asking if they remembered any unusual deliveries involving the deceased driver.
But it was too long ago.
No one could recall the details.
With nothing gained, Nathan turned toward the second destination.
The apartment was modest. A woman in her fifties opened the door.
"Yes?" she asked cautiously.
"I'm Nathan," he said. "I'm here because a friend of mine was harmed by materials your husband transported."
"I just want to know what was in that shipment."
The woman's eyes widened. Her hand trembled slightly.
"Don't worry," Nathan said. "No legal trouble. The case was already settled privately."
She hesitated—then nodded and stepped aside. "Come in. Let me get you some water."
Nathan entered the quiet apartment, glancing at framed pictures along the wall.
"I need to ask… did your husband ever say anything about what he was carrying? The accident that left the child blind… it was tied to that cargo."
The woman sighed deeply.
"No one expected that shipment to cause blindness. It was his first incident. The insurance paid damages, and the child got treatment. But…"
Her voice caught. "A month later, he died. Heart attack, they said. But he had no history. I always thought something was wrong."
Nathan leaned in. "You think it wasn't natural?"
"I'm sure of it," she whispered. "He was… different after the accident. Agitated. Restless. Talking in riddles. He kept muttering about a bridge… and a poplar tree."
Nathan's eyes narrowed.
That matched the scene from the police file—the stone bridge and the poplar tree nearby.
The woman continued, "After his death, I looked into the company he was working for. It was a shell company. Already dissolved. Everyone vanished."
"So, you believe…?" Nathan asked.
"That the accident, and his death, are connected to that company. Something was off. I couldn't prove anything, though."
Nathan tapped his fingers lightly against the table.
This was a dead end—but one thing stood out. The mention of that poplar tree.
"Did he ever take anything? Bring anything home from that shipment?"
The woman frowned. "I don't think so."
Nathan handed her a card. "If anything comes to mind, call me."
He left the apartment with a new destination in mind.
The stone bridge. The poplar tree. Something was buried there.
---
As he drove, he mulled over what the widow had said.
"Restless before the crash… Mentioned the bridge and poplar tree afterward… Then dead a month later."
"He found something," Nathan murmured. "And it scared him."
Just then, his eyes darted to the rearview mirror.
A black SUV had been following him since the last intersection.
"Being tailed?" Nathan slowed, then made a sharp turn down a narrow alleyway.
The SUV followed.
Time to draw them out.
He pulled into a deserted stretch and parked. The SUV did the same.
A pulse went off—an EMP blast.
Nathan's electronics flickered, then died.
A voice from behind: "Didn't think you'd notice us. You've got a good sense."
Two doors opened.
One man got out of Nathan's car.
Several got out of the black SUV.
Nathan stood calmly. "Who are you?"
The lead man smirked. "You've been stirring up quite the hornet's nest. Military? HYDRA? Essex?"
Nathan tilted his head. "So… which one of you are they?"
"You… You've offended all three?"
Another man, heavier set, looked genuinely alarmed. "Still alive after that? He's either a liar or a monster."
Nathan's fingers twitched.
He didn't need this nonsense.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three shots, three headshots.
All the grunts dropped instantly.
The leader turned to see his team dead—clean headshots, before he could blink.
He froze.
"W-we're just security… from a dissolved company…" he stammered.
"What company?" Nathan asked coolly.
"Years ago, we worked for the group behind Chemical Substance No. 7," the man said. "They paid us off. Said if anyone ever investigated it, we were to take them out."
Nathan's voice darkened. "Why?"
"It was a human experimentation project. They tested the compound—tried to mutate people. Most died. The rest… worse."
"And the driver?" Nathan asked sharply.
"He found out. He saw something he wasn't supposed to. He was going to the police, so we silenced him. Made it look like a heart attack."
Nathan's fists clenched. "And No. 7?"
"An artificial radioactive chemical, designed to forcibly evolve human DNA."
"But it failed," the man added quickly. "Too unstable. Most trials led to death or deformity."
"The company shut down. That's all I know!"
Nathan aimed the pistol again.
"Any last secrets that'll save your life?"
"I—I told you everything!"
Bang.
One more body hit the pavement.
---
Night fell.
Nathan returned to the stone bridge. A cold wind swept over the area.
He parked discreetly, grabbed a shovel, and descended the slope toward the old poplar tree.
"Let's see what spooked that driver."
He began digging.
Each stroke unearthed the past.
Then—a clink.
Something hard.
He dug faster.
Then—a faint blue glow leaked from the soil.
Nathan's eyes widened.
"This is…"
To be continued.
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