Let's reach 250 Power Stones for an extra chapter
***
The Oscorp boardroom is the pinnacle of corporate sophistication. Sunlight streams through massive windows, illuminating the expensive mahogany table and the crisp, tailored suits of the Board of Directors. Norman Osborn stands at the head, a smug smile playing on his lips. He is ready to announce his latest triumph: a significant step forward in the Super Soldier Serum project.
"Gentlemen, I stand before you today to announce a breakthrough that will redefine Oscorp's legacy," Norman begins, his voice resonating with pride. "We are on the cusp of achieving what was once considered impossible: unlocking the potential for human perfection."
A man clears his throat. "Norman, before you proceed, we have a matter to discuss."
Norman's smile wavers slightly. "Of course. What is it?"
A woman speaks, her tone laced with an unsettling calm. "The Board has received and accepted a buyout offer."
The words hang in the air. Norman's face contorts in disbelief. "A buyout? What are you talking about?"
"Another company has made us an offer we couldn't refuse," the woman continues. "The transition will be seamless. You will be relieved of your duties."
Norman's carefully constructed composure crumbles. "Relieved? This is my company! I built Oscorp from the ground up! You can't just--"
"The decision has been made, Norman," the man interrupts, his voice firm. "Consider this your official notice."
Norman's anger flares. "You're making a mistake! You don't understand what we're on the verge of accomplishing! This serum... it will change everything!"
"Perhaps," the woman says coolly. "But the Board has decided to move in a different direction."
Norman's eyes narrow, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the Board members. "Who put you up to this? Who made this offer?"
The Board remains silent, their expressions unreadable. Norman realizes he has been outmaneuvered, betrayed by those he trusted.
"Fine," Norman spits out, his voice dripping with venom. "You want me out? You'll regret this. You'll all regret this."
Norman storms out of the boardroom, his mind racing with fury and a burning desire for revenge. He needs to do something. He has to act now!
Deep within the bowels of Oscorp lies a secluded laboratory, hidden from prying eyes. Cables snake across the floor, connecting various pieces of advanced equipment. A strange, low hum permeates the air, a testament to the unconventional experiments conducted within.
Norman pulls a Shadowstone from his pocket and examines it. Jokermon gave this to him weeks ago, and he has gained a new "ally" because of it. This "ally" helped him improve and complete the Goblin Serum. Without his "ally," the Goblin Serum wouldn't have been completed on time.
In the center of the room stands a peculiar figure, and who was his "ally," Datamon.
It has long arms with large hands, four small feet, and a mixture of robotic elements with a somewhat cracked or damaged dome on its head, through which a computer engine is visible. It also has one yellow or mechanical eye and sometimes an organic red eye.
[Level: Ultimate]
[Type: Machine]
[Attribute: Virus]
[Special Move: Digital Bomb]
[A super-mini Machine Digimon used for healing. Originally a Vaccine-type Digimon for repairing crashed computers, Datamon's thought processing circuits were corrupted after it was attacked by a strong Virus-type Digimon, causing it to go rogue. It will try (albeit poorly) to "rebuild" the data of correctly functioning computers. Its forte is destroying any kind of data. No matter how strong the Digimon, Datamon will easily destroy the data that comprises its body. Its special move Digital Bomb is fired from its fingertips.]
Datamon was a Digimon summoned by the Shadowstone. It was the Digimon that had formed a Shadow Bond with Norman.
The door hisses open, and Norman strides in, his face a mask of rage. Datamon turns, its single eye focusing on Norman.
"Is it complete?" Norman demands, his voice strained.
"Yes, Norman," Datamon replies, its voice a synthesized monotone. "The serum is ready."
Datamon pauses, its eye flickering. "You seem agitated. What troubles you?"
Norman clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white. "Those fools! Those short-sighted, ungrateful fools! They betrayed me, Datamon! They're taking Oscorp away from me!"
Datamon tilts its head, its mechanical eye gleaming. "The Board of Directors?"
"Yes!" Norman explodes. "They accepted a buyout offer. They're kicking me out!"
Datamon's voice takes on a sharper edge. "They are an obstacle to our plans."
"Exactly!" Norman agrees, his anger fueling his resolve. "They don't understand the potential of the serum, the power we can wield. They're blinded by their petty concerns."
"We must remove them," Datamon states, its voice cold and calculating. "Replace them with those who are… more receptive to our vision."
Norman's eyes light up. "Yes! Exactly! Loyal followers who understand the true potential of Oscorp."
"I have made certain enhancements to the serum," Datamon says, extending a metallic hand. "Its effectiveness has been doubled."
Datamon hands Norman a vial filled with a viscous, emerald-green liquid. It glows faintly, pulsing with an unnatural energy.
Norman stares at the vial, his mind consumed by a thirst for power and revenge. He thinks about all the times he has been denied, overlooked, and betrayed. He sees a path to his ambitions. Norman doesn't want his life's work to be stolen. He wants to be recognized.
"This is it," Norman whispers, his voice trembling with anticipation. "This is how I take back what's mine."
Without hesitation, Norman plunges the syringe into his arm and injects the serum.
A searing pain rips through his body. His muscles begin to twitch and spasm, his bones creaking under an unnatural pressure. His skin feels like it's on fire, and his vision blurs.
Norman stumbles backward, clutching his head. His body is changing, mutating, transforming into something monstrous. His clothes rip and tear as his body expands, his skin turning a grotesque shade of green. Bony spikes erupt from his back and arms, tearing through his flesh. Horns protrude from his forehead, twisting and contorting into grotesque shapes.
A guttural roar escapes his lips, a sound filled with pain, rage, and a terrifying exhilaration.
Harry Osborn is in his father's office, looking for Norman. He hasn't seen his father in days, and he is getting worried. He has tried to call, but Norman doesn't pick up.
"Dad? Are you here?" Harry calls out, his voice echoing through the empty office.
Deciding to check the labs, Harry heads down to the elevator, his footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. As Harry approaches his father's private lab, the ground shakes violently.
Harry stops in his tracks, his heart pounding in his chest. What was that?
Suddenly, a massive explosion rocks the lab, sending debris flying through the air. Harry is thrown backward, his head slamming against the wall.
As Harry lies dazed on the floor, he looks up and sees a monstrous figure emerging from the smoke and flames. It has green skin, bony spikes, and horns protruding from its forehead. Its eyes glow with a malevolent orange light.
Harry's vision blurs, and he loses consciousness, his last sight being the monstrous figure looming over him.
The transformation is complete. Norman Osborn is no more. In his place stands the Ultimate Green Goblin, a creature of pure rage and unbridled power.
The Oscorp laboratory is consumed by flames, reduced to a pile of rubble. The building is destroyed. The age of the Goblin has begun.
***
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