At the pinnacle of one of New York's iconic landmarks, the Empire State Building, the edge of its cylindrical spire juts out over four hundred meters above the ground. Fierce winds howl relentlessly.
Batman steadies himself with one hand gripping the spire, his body unwavering against the gusts. Through the slits of his cowl, his gaze pierces the bustling traffic far below.
Unlike the myriad buildings ablaze with light, the Osborn Corporation tower in the distance stands shrouded in darkness.
With a subtle flex of his arm, Batman tilts forward and plummets from the Empire State Building's summit. Using his grappling hook, he swiftly descends to the rooftop of the Osborn Corporation tower. Securing a web-line to the top, he rappels down the exterior walls, floor by floor.
Yesterday, Batman had stormed the second basement level's laboratory, only to find it deserted. Later, on the twenty-fifth floor, he discovered a group of scientists engrossed in computer simulations, but Norman Osborn was nowhere to be found.
Learning from that misstep, Batman opts today to start at the top—the sixtieth floor.
He reaches the twenty-fifth floor again, where the same group of scientists is locked in a heated debate.
Batman observes silently for a moment before continuing his search downward for any sign of Norman Osborn. Finding none, he departs, heading toward Hell's Kitchen.
He's prepared a listening device, but two days without a trace of Norman Osborn render it useless for now.
Half an hour after Batman's departure, Norman Osborn arrives at the Osborn Corporation tower by car. He takes the elevator to the twenty-fifth floor, where the scientists' fervent discussion continues.
"Enough arguing. Prepare for the human trial," Norman Osborn declares.
"All the test subjects have died, Mr. Osborn. Have you rounded up more homeless people?" a bald researcher asks.
The others turn their attention to Norman Osborn.
"No. To prevent General Ross from using the human trials as leverage against me… I've decided to be the subject myself," Norman Osborn says, his voice resolute, devoid of hesitation.
"But Mr. Osborn, there's no need to take such a risk. We still have plenty of time before General Ross's deadline," a middle-aged woman with graying hair and glasses protests.
"I know. But with the Spider-Slayer arrested by the police and Spider-Man missing, I have to rely on myself," Norman Osborn snaps, growing impatient. "Hurry up. If anyone has questions, ask them now. Don't delay my experiment."
Seeing Norman's insistence, the researchers reluctantly follow him into the elevator.
"Mr. Osborn, I've never understood why you're so invested in General Ross's so-called 'Super Soldier' program. Is it really just about the business deal he promised?" a masked researcher asks.
Norman Osborn doesn't bristle at the question from his subordinate. These scientists are the most loyal members of his team since the company's founding. He explains patiently:
"Do you remember the motto of the Osborn Corporation, a company built on biotechnology?"
"'Human evolution, achieved through science.' It's not just the company's slogan—it's been my greatest ambition since I founded it."
"The Osborn Corporation has long focused on genetic technology. We've developed various genetically modified foods and organisms, but we're still far from achieving 'human evolution.'"
The elevator passes the first floor without stopping, descending further to the third basement level.
The first basement level houses the development and testing of powered armor and gliders. The second basement is dedicated to human trial research.
The third basement, however, is where the Osborn Corporation conducts its true human experiments.
The space is small, dominated by a transparent octagonal cage roughly ten square meters in size. Inside the cage stands a metal frame designed to restrain a person securely.
Around the cage are four canisters connected to it, and directly in front stands a control console.
Norman Osborn removes his shirt and steps into the octagonal cage. The other researchers take their positions at the console, pressing buttons in sequence.
"It wasn't until General Ross approached me that I realized I'd been on the wrong path… That redneck's vision is too narrow. His Super Soldier program is just about building an army of superhumans."
Norman secures himself to the metal frame. The cold metal against his skin makes him draw a sharp breath.
"Imagine if the Osborn Corporation perfects this research. Even if the results fall short of creating super soldiers, they could still cure any disease in the world."
"The Osborn Corporation would achieve unparalleled glory, and the world would be free of disease. Isn't that a win-win worth pouring everything into?"
"Using the lives of insignificant homeless people to save millions suffering from illness—even God would forgive me."
"But someone exposed my plan. Continuing to use homeless subjects would create unnecessary complications and give General Ross more leverage over me. That's why I have to do this myself."
A tongue depressor is placed in Norman Osborn's mouth to mitigate pain. He bites down, mumbling his command:
"Begin!"
At Norman Osborn's order, the transparent octagonal cage seals shut. The metal frame tightens around him, and green mist begins to fill the chamber.
The mist grows thicker until Norman Osborn's figure is completely obscured, replaced by agonized screams echoing from within.
The researchers watch the console's data intently. An elderly man with white hair and a hunched back presses himself against the cage, shouting:
"Norman? Are you okay?"
Only screams answer. He waves frantically at the others:
"Stop it! He can't hold on!"
The others hesitate, about to halt the experiment, when Norman Osborn's weak voice cuts through the green mist:
"…Keep going! I can handle it!"
"Norman!" the hunched old man shouts, desperate.
"I said, keep going!" Norman Osborn's voice surges, commanding.
The researchers exchange glances but allow the experiment to continue. The green mist slowly dissipates, and Norman Osborn's screams fade.
"Quick! Check his vitals!" someone shouts.
The console's instruments confirm Norman Osborn's heartbeat—he's alive, likely just unconscious.
"It worked?"
"Maybe…"
"Thank God, Norman didn't end up like the other test subjects…"
"Is it just me, or does Norman look… stronger?"
The researchers breathe a collective sigh of relief, chattering as they work together to open the octagonal cage and carry Norman Osborn out.
Suddenly, Norman Osborn's eyes snap open, glowing an unnatural green. With a single motion, he rips apart the metal frame binding him.
"Norman, you…" the hunched old man stammers.
Before he can finish, Norman Osborn swings his hand. The old man's head is torn from his body, rolling across the floor.
Screams and blood fill the third basement level. Minutes later, the floor is littered with corpses, and Norman Osborn is gone.
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