The world of the mind was fickle and the memory shifted forward.
Gwen was no longer sprawled on the floor of the broken cell; she was upright now, suspended within a reinforced containment chamber deeper in the facility, her wrists and ankles locked into magnetic restraints. The type made out of Secondary Adamantium. Expensive, oh yes, and more than sufficient to keep a weakened woman.
The chamber was cylindrical, lined with emitters and injection ports, and separated from the observation deck by triple-layered glass interwoven with Adamantium mesh.
Elsa stood on the other side, tablet in hand, her reflection faintly superimposed over the restrained figure within. But only faintly. There was another stronger figure but Elsa liked to pretend she didn't exist. This was her experiment.
'I found Gwen Stacy,' Elsa told herself. 'I gave her that Symbiote. She's my test subject.'
Gwen's head was bowed at first, blonde hair hanging over her face, but the Symbiote never rested. It crawled across her shoulders and down her arms in restless waves, pooling and recoiling, forming jagged shapes that dissolved as quickly as they appeared. Every so often, a streak of red would flare beneath the black like a pulse of inflamed muscle.
The table and the thoughts inside Elsa explained it. This Red Symbiote, it was some sort of upgrade. A bonding that surpassed the baseline bonding of a Symbiote. It was as though the Symbiote wanted to be merged with every cell of her body.
But Gwen…she was resisting. It was why there were only flickers.
"Begin baseline stimulation," Elsa ordered calmly.
Inside the chamber, four gun-like devices uncovered from the corners and a low-frequency blasted at Gwen. Sound waves, a Symbiote's great weakness. Gwen's head snapped up.
"No, no, no—!" Gwen's eyes were rimmed in red, pupils dilated beyond normal proportion. The Symbiote reacted instantly, swelling outward, and the tendrils lashed at the guns.
On the observation deck, technicians flinched.
Elsa did not.
"Fascinating," she murmured, fingers gliding over her screen as data cascaded downward. "The aggression threshold is tied to environmental provocation. And the more aggressive she gets…"
The destroyed sound wave guns retracted back and were replaced with fresh new ones. Consequently, the waves were stronger.
Gwen screamed. "Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!"
The Symbiote reddened. The scream went from human to alien; to somewhere deep in the diaphragm to sinister. The black was stitching through the flesh, merging with it with every bloodied threat. The new scarlet Symbiote surged up around her throat and face, forming a distorted mask that bared teeth too numerous and too sharp.
"I SAID STOP—!" Gwen gasped, clawing at her own chest as if trying to peel the organism away. "Get off—get off me! NOT LIKE THIS—!"
The Symbiote lashed again, this time about to form spear-like protrusions. Elsa watched the readings spike.
"Deploy compound E-17," she said.
From the ceiling of the chamber, a fine mist descended. The change was almost immediate.
The Symbiote recoiled as though burned, its tendrils retracting in violent spasms before shrinking back against Gwen's skin in reluctant submission. The red flares dimmed. Gwen sagged in her restraints, chest heaving, sweat plastering strands of hair to her forehead.
The chamber fell quiet save for the faint hiss of dissipating gas. Gwen soon fell asleep too.
Elsa allowed herself the smallest smile. "Not strong enough to break Secondary Adamantium nor is she showing any signs of being able to resist the gas I made. Everything is coming in line."
A voice beside her answered, cool and unamused. "So what?"
Elsa's smile thinned.
Cindy Moon was a few feet back from the glass, flanked by two armed guards. Heavy cuffs encircled her wrists, linked by a short chain that allowed only minimal movement. Even restrained, there was an unmistakable composure about her. Like she was in control—perhaps because she was. SHIELD believed Cindy to be more suitable for this project.
The agitation as Elsa glared at her made it obvious that she did not agree. At all.
Cindy's black hair fell straight past her shoulders, framing a face that was pale, sharp, and utterly unreadable. To call it arrogant was not incorrect either. She was stoic and arrogant.
This was Cindy Moon in her prime.
"So what? You're lucky you have me, Cindy," Elsa said instead, tapping her tablet once more to archive the data. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to do a damn thing to pacify her."
"Uh-huh."
Elsa finally faced her. "That gas was specifically made for Symbiotes. Which I had made," she emphasized, irritation sharpening her tone. "I designed its molecular structure to exploit the protein instability in off-world organisms. I manufactured the Symbiote she's wearing in the first place. Are you even listening?"
Cindy's dark eyes flicked to her, flat as polished stone.
"I have better things to do than listen to you, Dr. Brock," she replied evenly. "As far as everyone here is concerned, you don't exist. You're an Oscorp consultant on paper and a liability in practice. You have zero authority in this facility."
"What did you say?"
"I said what I said."
"Ha. I'm your upgrade. You were researching the Radioactive Spider Isotopes that to keep and that was all you could do with it. But I—I created something FAR superior than a silly radioactive spider—"
The chain between her cuffs clinked once and Elsa's feet lurched off the air. "Gnnh!" A strong hand closed around her throat and pressed her back against the glass. This bastard woman, she was faster than the eye could see!
"Don't," Cindy said, her voice dropping to a razor's edge. "Make. Me. Repeat. Myself."
Her grip was not crushing. A flare of humiliation through Elsa's chest when she realized she couldn't do a thing. She saw the guards' hesitation—uncertain whether to intervene against a prisoner whom SHIELD itself had deemed indispensable.
Cindy released her just as abruptly. She was like a fly to be dropped.
"Now get out."
Elsa stumbled back a step, her hand flying to her throat, rage and disbelief burning hot behind her eyes. "You're a prisoner," she hissed, struggling to keep her voice steady. "You're in cuffs. Don't tell me what to do."
"I will tell you what to do," Cindy returned, already turning her attention back to the monitors displaying Gwen's vital signs. "Tell me, now that you made this Symbiote, what more can you do with it?"
"What more—? Research it! The Symbiote provides regenerative properties! It can be used to help the world."
"Right. You think so little, Elsa Brock." Cindy cackled. "Research. Please."
"If you think you can do better than I can, then please, be my guest. Surpass my grand creation!" Elsa declared.
"Oh, I will. watch."
Elsa huffed straightened slowly, smoothing the front of her lab coat as though dignity could be restored by fabric alone. Without another word, she pivoted on her heel and strode toward the exit.
Click, click, click.
'That dumb bitch…!'
The doors automatically opened for her. Click, click, click. It didn't take long to meet the other major operator of this facility.
"Ah. If it isn't Dr. Brock."
The mastermind of this facility. The woman that even Norman Osborn did not enjoy tussling with. The elderly woman persistently standing with a cane since the second great war: Peggy Carter.
"Director Carter. You're…here."
"Mhm. Is there a problem."
Elsa did not like her. Everything about her was like Norman Osborn, but dialled up to eleven.
"None at all. I was just concluding my observations," Elsa replied, carefully modulating her tone. "Your prisoner seems… confident."
Peggy's gaze flicked briefly. "Cindy Moon is many things," she said. "But she is necessary."
"Necessary enough to trust her with that?" Elsa gestured subtly back toward Gwen's containment wing.
Peggy's expression did not change. "Everything happening in this facility remains classified at the highest level. The girl in there does not exist. The experiments do not exist. You understand me?"
Elsa inclined her head. "Perfectly."
Two SHIELD officers were with Peggy, tablets in hand and guns in their other pockets. They were to protect Carter and summarize information. They did not speak, but they likely had been speaking to their Director.
Peggy looked…thrilled. She smiled with mystery Elsa did not like. "But knowing her, I doubt she's told you the full scope of what she's done."
"And what has she done?" Elsa asked, cocking her head.
"Synthetic replication of the Symbiote is what."
Elsa's pulse quickened despite herself. "Replication?" she repeated.
"Yes, ma'am." It wasn't Peggy but her blonde officer-scientist-guard that answered. "Using the captured Symbiote's genetic data as a template, Cindy has already shown signs of being able to engineer additional variants at a rapid rate of production."
What. Elsa's emotions flickered. Creating a Symbiote took years of dedicated observation and matter analysis, not…there was no such thing as rapid rate of production!
A pause followed. Elsa couldn't swallow it.
"It appears Cindy did not tell you," Director Carter said, amused.
"A-and the risks?" Elsa asked. "I am sure she hasn't told you that either."
"Significant," the officer admitted. "But manageable. With the proper containment."
Elsa remained where she stood, outwardly composed, inwardly electric. Additional Symbiotes. Designed organisms, grown from Gwen's altered biology. It was…possible but…
'I couldn't do it,' she realized. 'Cindy…she…that bitch…!'
She…she had completely surpassed her. No. No, it couldn't be. It couldn't…! After handing Gwen that first Symbiote, it was taking years to replicate it again. She needed material from the moon or from a meteorite. That was how she did it.
Did Cindy not need it? How? How?
Peggy considered her silence with a chuckle. "It also appears Oscorp is lagging behind more than I anticipated."
The door behind Elsa slid open briefly as Peggy Carter entered. Elsa looked over her shoulder and for a heartbeat she caught a glimpse of Cindy inside, already leaning over a console, black hair falling forward. She turned when she heard Peggy Carter and smirked.
The door slid shut. Elsa Brock was alone again.
….
….
…
A month passed. A month.
And Cindy had done it. She had mass produced the Symbiotes. Not just one but several. It…it was ludicrous! Director was pleased. After some testing, she hoped to be able to wear one for herself. Prolong her already long life.
"Damn bitch, damn bitch, damn bitch…!"
Elsa's heels struck the concrete corridor in sharp, furious rhythms as she stormed away from the containment wing. Her hands had balled so tightly at her sides that her knuckles had gone white. Today…today, she had done nothing. For the past week, she had nothing but watch Cindy Moon.
Elsa exhaled through her nose and forced her pace to slow as she reached a secured elevator shaft reserved for upper-tier personnel. A retinal scan flashed green, and the doors slid open with a mechanical sigh. Once inside, alone, she calmed herself.
'This is my job. I'm supposed to report to Norman.'
At the end of every week, Elsa left the facility and every development within the SHIELD correctional facility was to reported. Norman Osborn did not care about moral lines, nor about collateral damage, nor even particularly about Gwen Stacy's tragic reappearance. What he cared about was two things:
1) For Elsa to learn and take what she needed. Even Oscorp had to follow guidelines. But when the lawmakers were the ones doing the lawbreaking, then as he put it, "Cease the chance. Experiment and learn as much as you can."
2) Norman cared about how they had used his son. Harry Osborn, the former Lizard, had left this facility a year ago after being cured—stabilized, technically—of the reptilian mutation that had overtaken him. His blood had been catalogued. His genome archived. His regenerative properties studied. And in exchange, he could go back to New York and become a member of Oscorp's Board of Directors.
But this was Norman Osborn. Norman had wanted assurances and he was curious.
Had they used Harry's blood in new trials?
Had they spliced Lizard DNA into fresh hosts?
Had they dared?
Norman had promised full access, but that was HIS son's blood. So, SHIELD was fine with sending Elsa. Elsa herself was a genius in her own right and Norman told her it had been Peggy that handpicked the move. It was a bit weird. It was like Peggy was desperate for people...
Regardless, there were certain parts of the facility Elsa was blocked from. She also suspected she was being watched at all times.
When it came to her reports, the only thing she had to report was that Cindy Moon had completely and totally surpassed her. She knew it was foolish but…she lied to Norman. She lied to him about the experiments being conducted here.
What Cindy was doing—what Cindy did—it was everything Norman Osborn wanted and what Elsa couldn't give.
Ultimately, she was alone. No one was going to help her. No one was going to stop Cindy from doing what she did best: revolutionize science. Norman wasn't. He might smirk, tell her to copy everything and just replicate it.
She could. She should.
But the ego was a strong thing.
Elsa leaned her head back against the cool steel wall of the elevator and let a slow smile spread across her face.
"He might care…" she murmured to herself, her anger cooling into calculation. "Right. Harry Osborn. Harry and Gwen were best friends."
Harry wasn't as influential or rich as Norman, but quite frankly, there were only a handful of people in the world who were—and they were monarchs.
Yes. Yes. With enough planning and money, and considering Harry WAS here, it was possible to stop this experiment.
The elevator doors slid open.
The memory changed. Two weeks passed.
Contact with Harry was made. She exited the facility, reported to Osborn at Oscorp Tower, and met up with Harry at a cafe. They spoke at length. The expression on his face when she told him about Gwen was...illuminating. Harry was willing to do anything to save his high school friend.
"I can't lose her," Harry had said. "Not like Peter."
Now, it was a matter of knowing the blueprint of the facility to break out of it. Alas, there were no actual blueprints. Elsa would have to draw them herself. She didn't mind. She was a scientist and she didn't have anything better to do anyway. Not with Cindy pumping out Symbiotes on the daily.
In this memory, at this part of the investigation, Elsa was going down the stairs and found herself at a floor that the elevators did not go to. She knew because she counted. 'An extra floor? Hm…'
Arriving at the corridor, were a couple SHIELD agents that eyed her. They stopped to ask why she was here.
"Cindy sent me," Elsa explained, huffing. "Y-you know why."
Except she didn't know what was down here. She had spent enough weeks here to know that the facility was layered like sedimentary rock: the upper tiers polished and well-monitored, the lower levels older, less refined, expanded over time in response to necessity rather than design.
After passing the guard, she reached the end of the corridor she used a stolen clearance code she had memorized days ago to open a door.
Past this door, the architecture changed entirely. This wing had never been completed.
The walls were raw cement, still bearing the ghostly outlines of construction markings. Thick cables ran along the ceiling, some bundled, some hanging loose as if the electricians had abandoned their work mid-task. The smell here was different too—not antiseptic and ozone, but iron and something faintly organic.
Elsa slowed. At the very end of the corridor stood a single containment cell.
This cell was crude compared to what was in the rest of the family. "It's like they didn't even try," Elsa murmured. A cube of reinforced glass and alloy bolted directly into the foundation. There were no observation decks and no banks of monitors. Just a single camera in the upper corner and a narrow slot in the wall for food delivery.
The lighting inside the cell was dim.
Elsa edged closer. She was admittedly nervous. But it was better to know everything. At first, she thought the cell was empty. If that was the case…
"Maybe an opening?"
But then something shifted in the far corner and she cursed and staggered back.
"W-who is in there!?"
A small figure sat with his knees drawn to his chest, half-shrouded in shadow. The light caught on something textured—something that reflected differently than skin.
"Scales…?"
They were subtle at first glance, a sheen along the forearm and pattern along the side of the neck. But as her eyes adjusted, she saw them clearly: overlapping plates along his shoulders, dark and iridescent like oil on water.
It couldn't be.
Was Norman right?
Had SHIELD managed to do something with the Lizard DNA after all?
Elsa gulped down her fears and approached again. The boy lifted his head slowly.
He looked young—no older than fourteen. His face was delicate, almost gentle, with wide eyes that seemed too large for his thin features. But those eyes… they carried a vertical slit at their center, reptilian and unnervingly focused.
He blinked at her.
"Oh. You're not mom. What are you doing here?"
"M-me? I'm, uh…Elsa Brock."
"Nice to meet you, Elsa Brock." The was polite. "Um…so what are you here for?"
Quiet too. Lonely too.
Elsa's fingers brushed the edge of the cell's interface panel. It did not respond to her touch. No manual override. No accessible code.
Was this even a cell at all? Or…his room?
Elsa swallowed.
"What's your name?"
The boy hesitated, as though unused to being asked.
"Harold," he said. "My name is Harold."
"How long have you been here, Harold?"
"A long time," he replied, tilting his head slightly. "I used to walk around more. They let me. They cut me open a lot back then." He said it matter-of-factly and Elsa grimaced. "They wanted to see how fast things grew back."
Elsa's stomach tightened. "Y-yeah. Yeah, I…I remember seeing you. At the start." In all her anger, she had forgotten about the boy, partially because no one talked about him. He had been by Cindy's side.
'Dammit, why didn't I ask?'
A kid? In a facility like this? She remembered thinking maybe that was the deal. That the reason for Cindy's cooperation was because they had her son threatened and kept her. But then he disappeared and now that he was here…
'Cindy, are you really treating your own child like this?'
Getting here was quite difficult. This cell wasn't built with a budget of ten million dollars, but it didn't need to be. This was a boy. Of course he was going to listen if his mother told him to stay put.
"My organs regrew and they could take," Harold added, almost proudly. "And they were happy and so I was happy. Especially because mom taught me stuff."
This whole time, her anxiety had been tripped. She had been smelling one thing and one thing only.
Blood.
"They don't talk to me much anymore," Harold continued. "Not since Gwen Stacy came. Everyone is busy with her."
"Only my mother talks to me," he said after a moment. "Cindy. She loves me."
Elsa went still.
"But…" Harold's gaze dropped to his scaled hands. "She loved me more before."
There was no accusation in his voice. It was a child's confusion.
Elsa found herself gripping the edge of the interface harder than necessary. She had not expected this. Not this small, scaled boy in an unfinished wing of a classified prison. Not this guilt inside her.
"I can't open this," Elsa said finally, gesturing to the sealed mechanisms. "Not yet."
Harold looked up at her again. "Huh?"
"If I try now," she continued, lowering her voice, "I'll get caught. And if I get caught, I won't be able to help you at all."
"Help me?" he repeated softly.
She leaned closer to the glass.
"There will be a day," she said. "Soon. Gwen Stacy will not stay contained forever. When she escapes—and she will—this entire facility will descend into chaos."
Harold's eyes brightened slightly.
"And when that happens," Elsa finished, "I will come down here and open this door."
Silence lingered between them. Then Harold smiled and it was a small, grateful thing that Elsa was glad to see.
"Thank you," he said.
***
The next memory hurt.
Elsa stood once more on the observation deck, tablet in hand. Were things the same? No. The chamber below no longer resembled the predictable experiment Elsa had once overseen with smug assurance. The cylindrical containment unit still stood in the center of the reinforced laboratory, still lined with sound wave guns and injection ports, still encased in triple-layered glass interwoven with Adamantium.
Except now Gwen Stacy hung suspended in the magnetic restraints.
Secondary Adamantium cuffs bound her wrists and ankles, thick collars of dull silver that had once been more than sufficient to restrain anyone. They had been chosen precisely because they were excessive.
Now they were cracked.
Not shattered—yet—but spiderweb fractures ran through the inner rim of the wrist restraints, hairline splits that had not been there a week ago.
Elsa noticed them immediately. Cindy did too.
Below, Gwen's head was bowed, blonde hair matted to her face with sweat, but the Symbiote that coated her body no longer crawled in restless black ripples. It pulsed red.
It had been a long, long time since Elsa had seen it black.
Scarlet veins throbbed visibly across her shoulders and down her ribs, glowing faintly with each labored breath she took. The organism clung closer now, less like fabric and more like muscle fused directly to bone.
If Elsa had to scale it, the forced bonding was at 92%.
The data scrolling across Elsa's tablet confirmed what her eyes already knew. Cellular integration and regeneration had increased. They had already chopped off Gwen's limps. Initially, it tooks days to regrow.
But now? Minutes.
The chamber hissed.
From the ceiling, a containment pod descended—small, spherical, opaque. It stopped a meter above Gwen's head and split open with a hydraulic sigh.
Inside it writhed a black Symbiote.
"What are you doing?" she demanded sharply.
Cindy Moon stood a few paces away, hands still cuffed in front of her, though the guards flanking her now looked more ceremonial than restrictive. Her black hair fell in a smooth sheet over one shoulder, and her expression was calm—almost bored.
"Observing," Cindy replied.
"This is the fourth Symbiote you've fed her today," Elsa snapped. "Have you lost your mind?"
Below them, the containment pod retracted its field. The loose Symbiote dropped, struck Gwen's shoulder and immediately tried to spread.
Gwen's eyes flew open.
"No—!"
Her voice tore through the chamber just as the new organism attempted to merge with the red mass already fused to her skin. For a fraction of a second, the two Symbiotes seemed to reject one another, writhing violently, tendrils snapping and recoiling like dueling serpents.
Then the red flared blindingly bright, a horrifying head shape lurched from the shoulder where the black Symbiote had dropped, and ate it.
"Look at that. She's really getting used to it." Cindy Moon smiled. "As expected."
An audible metallic shriek echoed through the lab as Gwen arched against her restraints, back bowing unnaturally, veins of crimson spreading across her throat and jaw. For Adamantium, even Secondary Adamantium to be pressured like this…
The Adamantium at Gwen's right wrist cracked audibly and a shard splintered free. Technicians scrambled to reinforce the magnetic field as warning lights flared amber across the room.
"Deploy the gas and replace the restraints," Cindy said calmly, not raising her voice.
"You're insane," Elsa hissed. "Do you have any idea what you're doing? Secondary Adamantium isn't supposed to fracture under enhanced stress. That alloy withstands tank fire and carpet bombing! I've heard it could survive an atomic bomb!"
"And yet," Cindy replied mildly, "it is fracturing. We're making progress, no?"
A new set of restraints descended from the ceiling; emergency replacement cuffs. They locked around Gwen's wrists with a thunderous clamp as the fractured originals disengaged and retracted.
"Why?" she demanded. "Director Carter wants a controlled specimen. She wants one of these Symbiotes for herself—something stable. Something wearable. Not this." She gestured toward the chamber, toward the glowing figure suspended like a crucified god. "You're turning her into something that won't be controlled by anyone." She then said in a hush as if afraid Gwen would hear. "She'll destroy this place if she gets any stronger…!"
Cindy's eyes did not leave Gwen.
"Director Carter wants longevity," Cindy said evenly. "She wants to prolong what she already has and she wants soldiers. I'm, ah, simply advancing on that second part of the mission.
"This won't do that!" Elsa shot back. "This is volatile. This is a weapon. You're pushing the organism to override her host resistance completely. At this rate, there won't be a Gwen left to extract from."
Below them, Gwen's breathing slowed. Her head lifted slowly, and when her eyes opened this time, the sclera had darkened at the edges.
She looked up, first at Elsa and then Cindy. Elsa had never received such hate before.
"You know, I was planning on feeding her another person but…" Cindy rolled her eyes. "You're right. You're absolutely right, Elsa. This is taking a bit too far. And if she gets too strong, the first people she'll be going for is us."
"Yes." Elsa actually sighed in relief. "I'm glad you see reason, Cindy."
"I am a woman of science."
Cindy smiled, full of honour.
Except, as Felix knew, Cindy never stopped. Her smile was nothing but deceit.
…
…
…
Fast forward again. Months passed.
The day came bathed in red.
Alarms screamed through the facility as emergency lights pulsed like a heartbeat in crisis. The walls seemed to tremble with distant impacts. Elsa had no idea what Harry had done in particular. He hadn't told her much aside from being told to run.
Which was a problem.
'I promised that boy…!'
"Containment breach!" voices shouted over intercoms. "Subjects are mobile!"
How had Harry accomplished this? Who knows? Maybe he hired a super spy of some kind.
Anyway, Elsa ran. She ignored the authorization, nor did she pretend to assist in the upper levels. She broke away from the flow of panicked personnel and sprinted toward the staircase. Sprinted down, down, down.
No SHIELD agents this time. No one stopped her when she entered the dark corridor. Like last time, she entered the override code she had stolen weeks ago.
The panel blinked green. The heavy bolts retracted with a thunderous clang. She ran inside the incomplete area and yelled, "Harold! I'm here!" As for opening this, she had prepared a solution. "Just step back!"
From her pocket, she fetched a vile with a red goo. It wasn't a Symbiote, no, but it was indeed made of a Symbiote. This one had a melting property to it. Grinning, Elsa took several steps back and then hurled the vial at it. Glass broke, the red matter splashed, and melted the glass in a huge hole.
The thing about this pseudo-Symbiote-material was that it was spread. Not infinitely, just three times its mass when making contact with solid objects. With liquid, it was four times. A chemical reaction that Elsa had devised with minor testing.
Hisssss!
Elsa heaved and smiled seeing the hole. For her, it would have been a struggle but for the boy? A shadow burst forward and Elsa knew he had made it out.
"Gah!"
But he was unnaturally fast. The force of his landing knocked Elsa backward onto the cold concrete, the breath leaving her lungs in a sharp gasp.
Elsa stared up at him.
He was…taller than before. It didn't make sense. She had been speaking to him once a week to keep him company. Telling him stories about the outside world and her own theories about the Symbiote. About the multiverse. She couldn't go too often or else Cindy would know.
She had gotten to know the boy as someone quiet, intelligent, and curious.
So why did her pulse pound with something that felt dangerously close to dread?
Why did the air seem to thicken around him, as though the facility itself had inhaled sharply?
Elsa lay there, looking up at the child she had just freed, and for the first time since arriving at this place, a single, unwelcome thought crept into her mind:
'What have I done?'
"Thank you, Dr. Brock. I really do appreciate it. Now…"
He disappeared in a silent dash. Elsa could only hear her own breathing. She was alone and stayed there even as she heard the ground quaking.
The memory fast forwarded. Felix saw her getting out long after the facility was empty. She had missed out on the action, so to speak.
A week later, Elsa returned to Oscorp Tower and perfected her new Symbiote. It wasn't in testing phases, it was completely and utterly complete. And on that very same day, Creature Z attacked and Spider-Man took the Symbiote away from her.
Then a month later, while at a cafe in New Jersey, she met up with Harry Osborn again.
"I'm sorry to ask you of this but...I need your help. I need you to make me something."
"What for?" Elsa asked.
"It's...for a friend."