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Oscorp Tower, Top Floor
Norman Osborn rose from his leather executive chair so abruptly that it rolled backward and crashed into the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. His breath came in short, uneven gasps. A single droplet of sweat traced down his temple, following the contours of his face before disappearing into his collar.
His trembling hand fumbled for the silk handkerchief in his breast pocket. It came away damp when he wiped his forehead.
"That man..."
He felt terror like a child knowing inevitable punishment for a mishap. He'd felt like this before in the white chamber deep in the first research facility, where he had kept the symbiotes bought from the government's space expedition.
Where ambition had nearly killed him.
The goblin serum had burned through his veins that day and torn him from the inside. His heart had stopped. For over twenty seconds, Norman Osborn had been clinically dead.
Only the symbiote bond had saved him, the specimen he'd kept in reserve as the failsafe nobody else knew about. The symbiote had mutated under the influence of goblin serum and his ruthless ambitions.
Something unprecedented was born that day.
SOVEREIGN.
The first truly evolved symbiote. Not just stronger or faster, but fundamentally different from every symbiote. Norman could separate it from himself at will, send it across the city while maintaining perfect control. He could possess his other symbiotes like puppets, see through their eyes, and even absorb their hosts' memories. He had essentially created a hive mind with himself as the supreme consciousness.
A king of symbiotes, soon to be the King of the World.
Except he had underestimated his opposition.
He didn't know that New York was home to a monster that was even more terrifying than he was. Handling Ghost Spider, that little girl, was easy. But the man who had stared through Felicia Hardy's eyes…
He sat in silence for several minutes. Slowly, the terror faded and his rationality returned.
Norman slammed his fist down on the mahogany desk. The entire surface exploded with a sound like a gunshot. Pens scattered in the office. His laptop crashed to the floor. The antique globe was flung to the elevator.
"I'm the Sovereign," he growled, standing again with renewed energy, with the arrogance that had built an empire of symbiotes. "I don't bow to anyone."
He was Norman Osborn, not some cowering child afraid of the dark.
Besides, the king didn't fight on the front lines. Kings used his generals, his armies, and his resources. That skull-faced man couldn't possibly comprehend the extent of his reach.
The symbiote had enhanced the old thief Walter's natural talents—his speed, reflexes, and the uncanny ability to slip through defenses which had made him a legend.
But Walter was merely a piece on the board.
Norman had two even stronger symbiotes: the former marine who snapped when law failed to bring justice to his dead family and the marksman offered to him by SHIELD. And Ghost Spider would soon join the list once he found her identity and used her family or someone innocent to lure her.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. His finger didn't shake when he pressed the contact. "Retrieve Walter Hardy. Immediately."
The voice on the other end responded without hesitation. "Understood."
The man with the flaming skull was too far away to stop him from securing Walter. The old thief was still a valuable specimen.
Norman's eyes narrowed as another thought occurred to him.
"Why did he come for Felicia? Does she know him, or is he out to hunt symbiotes?"
He should have read Felicia's memories the moment he had bonded her to the symbiote, except he hadn't believed she carried any valuable information. Now, he couldn't since the connection had been severed completely.
The mental image of that skull surfaced again, of those blue flames flickering in hollow sockets.
He forced the image away through sheer willpower.
"No matter. She's one symbiote. I have hundreds to replace her."
Norman walked to the window and gazed out at Manhattan with a smile. Somewhere out there, his specimens were spreading through the underworld, being bonded to dangerous criminals and vicious murderers. Soon, he'd control them all in the palm of his hand.
New York would crown him king whether it wanted to or not.
A skull-faced anomaly wouldn't stop him.
"Count your days. Death is coming for you."
Norman pushed the memory down, burying it deep within.
He was Norman Osborn. He'd cheated death once already.
He could do it again.