The roof groaned under the wind and weight of chaos. Searchlights from news choppers slashed across the city skyline, catching the metallic gleam of Oscorp's tower in pale, jittery sweeps. At its peak, Peter stood face to face with the monster he'd helped make.
Norman Osborn. Or whatever was left of him.
He stood by the distribution array, sleek and coiled like a mechanical viper ready to pump madness into the veins of New York. His glider hovered inches off the roof behind him, spinning lazily like a scythe waiting to drop.
"Ten minutes," Osborn growled, tossing the empty serum vial aside. "That's all it takes, Parker. Then this city learns how quickly civilization burns."
Peter's ripped mask hid part of his expression, but not his clenched fists. "You gassed your own building. Those weren't just agents in there, they were also your people, Norman."
"They were mine, yes," Norman said, revealing a grin painted in cruelty. "And they served their purpose—keeping you busy while I lit the fuse. Now, here we are. Again."
Peter stepped forward. "This isn't the way. You can still stop this."
Norman tilted his head, mock curiosity on his face. "That's your opening line? You've always been such a disappointment."
Peter's voice tightened. "Yeah, I figured that wouldn't work."
The Goblin's glider shrieked to life as he hurled a pumpkin bomb. Spider-Man flipped backward, catching the blastwave mid-air and using it to vault forward. He landed hard, fist-first, but the Goblin sidestepped with inhuman speed and drove a knee into Peter's ribs.
The fight continued.
Peter ducked a wild punch, letting his Spider-Sense guide him into a sideways roll. He sprang up, launching a webline to a rooftop crane and yanking himself up and over Norman's head. A web shot hit the Goblin's shoulder, anchoring him momentarily—just long enough for a spinning kick to connect with the side of his head.
But Norman just laughed. "Is that all the little spider has left?"
He ripped the webbing free and tossed a blade from his gauntlet. Peter caught it with a web shot mid-flight and redirected it into the glider, which sparked and dipped before correcting course.
Peter's style was all reaction and rhythm. He flipped and weaved, momentum his instrument. His environment became an ally: air vents to rebound off, ledges to swing from, antennas to snare with web lines. Each motion fed the next; he wasn't trying to overpower Norman—he was trying to unbalance him.
But the Goblin fought like war. No flair, just hate.
Every attack was ugly, sharp, and loud. Elbows, knees, sucker punches. His strength cracked concrete. His taunts were sharper than his blades.
"Mary Jane still with you?" he snarled as they clashed. "Think she'll look good in green?"
Peter's punch landed hard against Norman's chest, but he didn't flinch—he grinned. He headbutted Peter, then grabbed him by the mask and slammed him into the ground.
Blood filled Peter's mouth. The pain sang through his spine. But the Spider-Sense blared again, and he rolled just before a blade stabbed into where his chest had been.
"Still hiding behind that mask," Norman sneered, pacing like a predator. "Take it off, Peter. Let me see what a failure looks like."
Peter didn't answer. Instead, he webbed a chunk of broken roof and flung it. The Goblin batted it aside—but that was the feint. Peter launched himself after it and tackled Norman hard, both of them tumbling into the array housing. Sparks flew. The countdown screen cracked but didn't stop.
Norman growled and elbowed Peter across the face, then kicked him off. "Everything that's happened to you—your pain, your loss—that's because you are weak and merciful. You should've killed me when you had the chance."
Peter wiped blood from his chin. "Maybe. But then I'd be like you."
"Exactly," Norman whispered, and he charged.
The next flurry was brutal. Peter adapted, pivoting into a tighter stance. He let Norman's blows glance off him, rolling with the hits, letting momentum bleed them of impact. Then he redirected it—used a sweep to take Norman's legs out, then web-yanked him into a column.
The glider swooped down again, firing a barrage of mini-bombs. Peter dodged, but one caught his side and exploded in a concussive burst. His ears rang. Pain flared through his ribs.
He stumbled. The Goblin saw his chance.
Norman grabbed him by the throat and lifted him.
"You're too late. You always were." He turned toward the array, ready to hit the final activation. "One more minute. And then we see who they really are."
Peter gagged, muscles twitching. But through the haze, he saw a loose panel sparking above the array.
He launched a web past Norman, hitting the panel, and yanked it down.
Electric feedback surged through the webbing. Norman screamed and dropped Peter as a blast of blue sparks engulfed them both. The device smoked, sputtering, but didn't stop.
Peter forced himself up. "I won't let you do this."
Norman staggered back, glider returning to his side. His face twisted in rage and something deeper—regret? No. Madness.
"This was my city. My legacy!" he roared. "And you stole it!"
"You lost it yourself," Peter said, voice hoarse.
Then the glider launched again—and this time Peter was ready.
He flipped over the roof's edge, used a webline to slide under the glider, and then web-yanked it into a steel girder. The machine shrieked, caught fire, and spiraled off the building, vanishing into the night.
Norman screamed and charged. They collided again—fists, fury, history.
And as the timer ticked down on the serum's dispersal, Peter tackled Norman into the distribution device and tore it apart with raw, desperate force. Wires snapped. Canisters cracked. The device died with a groan.
The countdown stopped at 00:03.
The rooftop fell into silence, broken only by their breathing.
Norman was on his knees, armor cracked, blood running down his chin. "You… always ruin everything…"
Peter stood above him, chest heaving, suit torn. "That's what I do."
Sirens wailed below.
Felicia's voice crackled over the comm. "The situation's contained on my end. You alive, Spider?"
Peter stared at Norman, then pressed his comm. "Yeah. For now."
He didn't feel victorious. Just… tired.
Norman looked up, a flicker of his old self in his eyes. "You think this will end me?"
Peter turned away. "I know it won't."
He fired a web and opened the distribution device. Peter then walked over after webbing both Osborn's hands. Peter managed to grab the Goblin Serium.
Behind him, Osborn has managed to free himself and charged at Spider-Man. However, right before he could make contact, two shots rang out.
Peter was unsure what was going on, as his spider sense had gone off enough for him to turn and see Norman charging at him. It soon died when the shots rang out, surprising him, making him unable to react fast enough. Norman slouched mid-tackle, but his momentum didn't stop, and both he and Peter fell off the roof.