In the immediate aftermath of the villain retreat, an almost ethereal calm settled over the devastated courthouse. Dust particles danced through shafts of afternoon sunlight streaming through the blast-damaged wall, creating an almost mystical atmosphere that seemed to suspend time itself.
This peaceful interlude lasted only moments before the familiar wail of police sirens shattered the tranquility.
Multiple squad cars arrived with lights flashing, officers quickly establishing a perimeter around the courthouse and cordoning off the area to prevent civilian interference with their investigation.
Harry, seated on a damaged chair while recovering from his forced unconsciousness, observed the belated law enforcement response with obvious cynicism.
"They only show up after all the criminals have escaped," he said with bitter sarcasm. "I really wonder what taxpayers are getting for their money with this kind of police efficiency!"
Norman immediately apologized to Captain George Stacy, whose expression had darkened considerably at Harry's public criticism.
Stacy found himself unable to defend the department's response time, simply nodding in acknowledgment while maintaining professional silence. The unfortunate reality was that New York's police force often seemed perpetually one step behind emerging threats, a fact that partially explained why many citizens placed more trust in costumed vigilantes than official law enforcement.
However, as the city's police captain, Stacy couldn't tolerate unauthorized individuals operating outside legal authority, regardless of their apparent good intentions.
He strode purposefully from the courthouse, his jaw set with determination to reassert proper law enforcement protocols.
Matt approached Norman with professional composure despite his concealed injuries. "Mr. Osborn, you can leave the remaining legal proceedings to me. If everything goes as expected, all of Stromm's assets will be transferred to your name within the next few weeks."
Norman had deliberately chosen not to transfer Stromm's wealth directly to Ben's identity—keeping the financial arrangements between them private provided additional protection for his young partner while maintaining plausible deniability about their true relationship.
"I should take Harry to the hospital for a comprehensive medical examination," Norman decided, concerned about potential hidden injuries from the day's violence.
He initially suggested that Peter undergo similar medical screening, but Peter quickly declined, knowing that any detailed examination would likely reveal his superhuman physiology and compromise his secret identity.
After separating from Norman and Harry, Peter wandered the city streets aimlessly, his mind churning with the implications of the day's events and his failure to prevent the Green Goblin's escape.
Without conscious direction, his feet eventually carried him to the entrance of Primus Technologies. The familiar building offered a sense of stability in what had become an increasingly chaotic day.
Perhaps Dr. Connors could help him develop some kind of antidote for the Green Goblin's transformation—a solution that would neutralize Stromm's enhanced abilities without requiring lethal force.
But when Peter entered the laboratory, he discovered Ben in his Four Arms form, working on his vintage RV project with characteristic intensity.
"Ben, weren't you supposed to be with Mary Jane?" Peter asked, surprised to find his cousin here rather than on his planned date.
"Someone called with an emergency that interrupted our shopping plans," the tall Tetramand replied, all four of his eyes rolling simultaneously in annoyance. Then he casually flipped the entire RV over with his upper pair of arms, treating the multi-ton vehicle like a pancake being turned in a skillet.
His movements were deliberately rough, causing Peter to wince with concern that the vintage vehicle might not survive such aggressive handling.
However, Ben's modifications had significantly reinforced the RV's structural integrity. While it probably couldn't withstand a full-strength punch from Four Arms, casual contact posed no threat to its enhanced framework.
"My movie date with Felicia isn't until eight tonight, so I figured I'd work on the engine modifications," Ben continued, pausing to scratch his chin thoughtfully with one massive hand. "Do you think it's overkill to install a Space propulsion system in an old RV?"
"It's like using an Arc Reactor to charge your phone," Peter observed with dry humor.
"Or mounting nuclear warheads on a wooden sailing ship," he added for emphasis.
"You're absolutely right, but I have the capability, so why not use it?" Ben replied with casual confidence. "Who says the Arc Reactor can't be used for mundane purposes if that's what makes someone happy?"
Peter stayed quiet, unaffected by Ben's attempt to lighten the mood.
Although Ben already knew the source of Peter's distress, he maintained his pretense of ignorance. "What's bothering you?"
"The courthouse was attacked and I let the Green Goblin escape," Peter admitted with obvious dejection.
He provided Ben with a comprehensive account of the day's events, concluding with his deepest fear: "That maniac is completely unhinged. I'm terrified he'll target Uncle Ben and Aunt May to get revenge on me."
Ben regarded him with a slight smile that carried undertones Peter couldn't quite interpret. "Do you really believe that I don't have any consistency plan in case of his escape, do you I think I would let him be free and continue his criminal activities?"
Peter stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that if I wanted him dead, I could do it immediately."
Ben's smile took on a distinctly predatory quality as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a device that resembled a sophisticated cigarette lighter.
"Actually, when I captured the Green Goblin, I implanted an obedience disk in him—one capable of releasing concentrated neurotoxins."
Ben handed the controller to Peter with casual indifference.
"Simply press this button, and the toxins in the Green Goblin's system will activate immediately. His death would be guaranteed within seconds."
In reality, the controller offered multiple activation levels, with instant death requiring maximum settings. But these technical details were irrelevant to the larger question Ben was posing.
Once again, he was placing the Green Goblin's fate directly in Peter's hands, curious to see what choice his cousin would make when confronted with such ultimate responsibility.
"Press it, and the Green Goblin dies," Ben explained matter-of-factly. "You wouldn't need to worry about him causing future problems. Neither Kingpin, the Hand, nor anyone else would be able to locate the remaining serum. The only casualty would be one psychotic villain. Seems like an excellent trade-off to me. What do you think?"
"But we can't just—" Peter began, then found his voice catching in his throat like he was trying to swallow broken glass.
Ben transformed back to his human form, brushing imaginary dust from his clothes while maintaining steady eye contact with Peter.
"Is that your logic?" he asked, tone sharp with deliberate challenge.
"That killing one criminal just makes room for another, so the total number stays the same?"
"No," Peter answered immediately, shaking his head with certainty.
He knew that reasoning was flawed. Even if removing one threat didn't change the statistics, what about stopping ten? Or a hundred? More importantly, it wasn't about numbers—it was about the lives that could be saved. That was the line he wouldn't cross.
"I just believe that deciding whether someone lives or dies shouldn't be our responsibility," Peter explained carefully. "People make poor judgments when influenced by emotion, anger, or other irrational factors."
He was thinking about his own reaction earlier, when the Green Goblin had threatened everyone Peter cared about. In that moment, he had genuinely wanted to twist Stromm's head off with his bare hands.
"Then who should make such decisions?" Ben challenged. "You've seen how criminals with significant resources exploit legal loopholes. You've witnessed how many people are willing to protect 'talented' individuals regardless of their crimes."
Peter shared his earlier thoughts about developing a cure to permanently remove the Green Goblin's superhuman abilities—a solution that would neutralize the threat without requiring execution.
"That's actually a reasonable approach," Ben acknowledged with a nod. "But have you considered that some people remain equally dangerous without superhuman abilities?"
"There are individuals who can control external events and manipulate countless people even while imprisoned. Others possess extraordinary intelligence—you can't exactly turn them into mindless idiots, can you?"
Actually, Ben wouldn't mind reducing certain criminals to vegetative states, but such methods required more time and effort than simple elimination.
After hearing this series of challenges to his reasoning, Peter fell into contemplative silence.
Earlier today, he had felt mature and sophisticated after surviving the courthouse battle. Now he was beginning to recognize how naive and simplistic his solutions had been.
"So what should I do?" he asked with genuine uncertainty.
Ben gestured toward the controller in Peter's hands. "Isn't the power to choose already in your possession?"
"These criminals are nothing more than urban parasites. When dealing with disease-carrying pests, do you capture and relocate them, or do you eliminate the threat permanently?"
Peter stared down at the device, feeling the weight of ultimate responsibility. The moral balance in his mind seemed to shift as his fingers began to close around the controller.
The next moment, a sharp cracking sound filled the laboratory.
Peter had crushed the controller completely.
He raised his head to meet Ben's gaze with newfound determination. "Regardless of everything else, I can't just kill him like this. It's not about mercy or any other noble sentiment. I'm worried that once I cross that line, I won't be able to control myself afterward."
For Peter, refusing to kill represented a form of essential self-restraint.
Ending a human life would be absurdly easy for someone with his capabilities—no more difficult than crushing an insect. He feared that embracing such casual violence would gradually desensitize him to the value of human existence, separating him from normal people and transforming him into the kind of arrogant individual who believed he had the right to determine who lived or died.
"That's a valid concern, but Peter..." Ben said with apparent hesitation. "When the controller was damaged, it triggered an automatic fail-safe. I'm afraid the neurotoxin activated immediately. The Green Goblin is probably dead right now."
Peter's face went completely white with shock and horror.
"Relax, I was lying," Ben said with obvious amusement.
Peter's relief was so intense it left him momentarily dizzy. "Ben! That wasn't funny!"
"Sorry, sorry," Ben chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I couldn't resist. But seriously, your reaction tells me everything I need to know about who you really are."
Without another word, Peter hurried off to find Dr. Connors and begin working on legitimate solutions to the Green Goblin problem.
Watching Peter's retreating figure, Ben shook his head with something approaching paternal pride.
He wasn't disappointed that Peter had refused to kill the Green Goblin. On the contrary, this outcome was exactly what he had hoped to see.
"So you really are the genuine Spider-Man," he murmured with satisfaction.
Ben raised his wrist, revealing that his web-shooter had been modified with additional functions far beyond Peter's awareness. Blue lights flickered along its surface as various integrated systems activated.
The device contained far more than simple web-dispensing mechanisms. He had incorporated multiple tools and capabilities into what appeared to be standard Spider-Man equipment, including backup neural control systems.
Ben touched a specific control sequence, and the blue illumination reached maximum intensity.
Just as Peter would never kill the Green Goblin, Ben would never allow such a threat to his family to survive—especially after Stromm had explicitly threatened to murder everyone Peter cared about.
"I wouldn't be me if I let him walk away from that," he declared with cold finality as he activated the lethal protocol.
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