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CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
Metal objects throughout the lab began sliding toward the artificial sun.
Then jewelry—watches, rings, necklaces—tore free from people's bodies and flew toward the sphere. Anything that touched the fireball instantly vaporized.
"Everyone remain calm!" Dr. Otto called out. "This is just a normal electromagnetic reaction—"
But it wasn't normal. The magnetic pull was intensifying by the second.
Metal panels ripped free from the walls. The crowd panicked and ran for the exits.
Harry stayed behind. "Otto! Shut it down!"
"Absolutely not!"
Behind Harry, a metal cart rocketed toward him, pulled by the magnetic force—
Spider-Man appeared and yanked Harry out of the way.
Peter had changed into his costume the moment chaos broke out.
Harry's face twisted when he realized who'd saved him. "I won't thank you. And I won't forgive you."
Spider-Man didn't respond. He ran toward the fusion chamber's control panel.
The magnetic field was spiraling out of control. If he didn't shut down the reaction, people would die.
Spider-Man reached for the emergency cutoff—
One of Otto's mechanical arms swatted him away like an insect.
WHAM.
Peter crashed into equipment ten feet away.
The artificial sun destabilized further. Energy arcs shot out, punching through the walls. The floor-to-ceiling windows shattered under the magnetic stress.
Glass shards flew inward—thousands of them—all converging on the sphere.
Rose stood directly in their path.
She screamed.
The glass should have torn her apart.
Instead, impossibly, the shards shifted trajectory at the last instant. Most missed her entirely. The few that hit weren't lethal.
She collapsed, bleeding but alive.
Otto turned at his wife's scream. Saw her on the floor.
He thought she was dead.
Before he could react, the destabilizing fusion sphere released a massive energy pulse directly into his mechanical arms.
Electricity surged through the neural interface.
The inhibitor chip at Otto's neck sparked, smoked, and died.
Otto screamed.
Spider-Man got up and ran to the main power supply. He didn't have permission from Otto—didn't need it.
He cut the power.
The artificial sun imploded with a final burst, consuming nearby equipment before collapsing into nothing.
Silence fell. The lab was destroyed.
Spider-Man left before anyone could stop him.
Harry stood among the wreckage, expression dark.
He'd invested everything in this project. Oscorp's future had depended on it.
Now that was over.
Firefighters and paramedics arrived within minutes.
Most people had minor injuries. The serious casualties were Otto and Rose.
Rose looked terrible—cuts and bruises everywhere—but the doctors were amazed. Her injuries should have been fatal. Somehow, most of the glass had missed her vital organs and major arteries.
"She's incredibly lucky," the attending physician said. "She'll need hospitalization for a while, but she'll survive."
Otto was worse. The mechanical arms had fused to his nervous system. Removing them would require delicate surgery.
As doctors prepared for the procedure, Otto's eyes snapped open.
Or rather—the mechanical arms woke up.
Without the inhibitor chip, the artificial intelligence had nothing restricting it. And the AI had decided Otto's survival was paramount.
The arms lashed out.
Doctors and nurses died before they could scream.
When Otto truly regained consciousness and saw the carnage around him, he realized what had happened.
He roared in anguish.
Then fled—through the hospital, into the streets, the mechanical arms carrying him at inhuman speed.
Otto destroyed property as he went, finally reaching an abandoned pier on the waterfront where he disappeared into the shadows.
The Daily Bugle ran the story the next morning:
MAD SCIENTIST BECOMES MONSTER! FOUR MECHANICAL ARMS! WE'RE CALLING HIM DOCTOR OCTOPUS!
In his villa, Marcus read the newspaper with a neutral expression.
He hadn't been at Oscorp during the experiment. But he'd been watching from several miles away, his telekinesis acting as telescope and surveillance system.
Otto was brilliant. But the technology didn't exist yet to safely sustain fusion at that scale. Failure had been inevitable.
Marcus had also saved Rose. When the glass shards flew toward her, he'd used subtle telekinetic force to redirect most of them. Just enough to keep her alive without being obvious.
After saving her, his Origin Points had increased to 72.
Two days later, Doctor Octopus reappeared.
He robbed a bank in broad daylight.
Peter happened to be nearby. He changed into his Spider-Man costume and intervened.
The fight went badly.
Otto's mechanical arms moved with terrifying speed and strength. Peter couldn't get close. Couldn't land effective hits.
Then Otto grabbed a hostage—a young woman—and held her over the edge of a building.
"Back off, Spider-Man. Or she falls."
Peter backed off.
Otto escaped with the money.
Peter stood on a rooftop, watching him go, feeling utterly helpless.
That evening, Peter attended a party.
Jameson had invited him—or rather, Jameson's son John had invited him. John knew Peter took Spider-Man photos and wanted to network.
John also happened to be Mary Jane's boyfriend.
At the party, Peter watched John propose to Mary Jane in front of everyone.
She said yes.
Peter felt something break inside him.
Harry was also there, drunk and angry.
He cornered Peter. "You're supposed to be my friend! You take those photos—you must know who Spider-Man really is! Why won't you tell me?!"
Peter had no answer.
Multiple disasters in one night.
When Peter got home, he discovered something worse.
His powers were failing.
He tried to climb his apartment wall—his hand slipped. Tried to shoot webs—nothing came out. His vision had regressed back to nearsightedness.
Even his spider-sense was gone.
Peter felt like the universe was punishing him.
After days of thinking, Peter made a decision.
He was done being Spider-Man.
He found a dark alley and threw his costume into a dumpster.
Over the following days, Peter discovered something surprising:
Life without Spider-Man was... good.
He had time to attend classes. Wasn't late anymore. Professor Connors stopped criticizing him.
He could see Mary Jane's stage performances from start to finish instead of running out mid-show to fight crime.
Everything improved.
At the Daily Bugle, J. Jonah Jameson received an unexpected visitor.
A sanitation worker had found something in the trash and brought it to the newspaper.
Spider-Man's costume.
Jameson stared at it, then smiled slowly.
The worker smiled back. "There's a reward for Spider-Man stuff, right?"