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The revelation that the original Green Goblin, Norman Osborn, might still be alive sent a seismic shock through Harry's mind. He stood up abruptly from the sofa, clutching his head with both hands. A low, guttural growl of pain and fury escaped his throat.
In his mind, the demonic whispers—echoes of a serum-induced madness—began to claw at his sanity.
"Liars! They are all liars! Kill them! Kill them right now!"
Even the portrait of Norman Osborn on the wall seemed to sneer, his eyes burning with a ghostly light. "You are my son! Remember your mission! Kill Spider-Man! Kill everyone who interferes!"
Peter watched the young heir struggle, his brow furrowing. "I underestimated the side effects of the Human Enhancement Agent. It's a good thing we arrived now; another week and Harry might have been beyond saving."
He gave Gwen a sharp nod. "Gwen, if you would."
The Chemical Reset
Gwen was already in motion. She blurred across the room, a specialized syringe glinting in her hand. Before Harry could react to the new threat, she plunged the needle into his shoulder.
Harry let out a cry of primal rage, swinging his fist instinctively. The sheer force of the blow struck a solid wood dining table, splintering it into two jagged halves. But as the drug entered his bloodstream, the tension left his body. The screaming voices in his head faded into a dull, manageable hum.
"What... what did you do to me?" Harry gasped, sinking to his knees.
Peter retrieved the empty syringe. "A specialized antipsychotic and neural stabilizer. I designed it specifically for the chemical markers of the Osborn serum. Better?"
"The voices... they're gone," Harry whispered, exhausted. "So, I really was going crazy?"
"Not crazy, just poisoned," Peter corrected. "The agent Norman developed causes a violent personality split. But with the data I have, I can develop a permanent antidote. If we find your father, we can bring him back too."
The Digital Ghost
Harry's eyes lit up with a desperate hope. "You said he isn't dead. Prove it."
Peter gestured to the wall. deep blue, sensing the command, shifted the projection to a series of police and medical records.
Information Blackout: All official records regarding Norman Osborn's autopsy and transport were systematically erased from the city's database.
The Managers: deep blue tracked the cemetery where the burial supposedly took place. Within a month of the funeral, all three rotating managers of the cemetery died in "unrelated" accidents.
The Empty Plot: Satellite and thermal scans of the designated burial site show anomalies inconsistent with a decaying organic body.
"In a world without a Super AI, deep blue is the god of the internet," Peter said. "He found what the police couldn't. Your father's death was a staged disappearance."
Harry shook his head, his stubbornness fighting the logic. "I saw him buried with my own eyes!"
"Then take me to the grave," Peter replied firmly. "I'll prove it to you personally."
The Predator Arrives
While Peter and Gwen were occupied at the Osborn Manor, the top floor of the Empire State Building flickered with a strange, distorted energy. A second spatial rift tore open, but this one didn't glow with the clean blue light of Celestial Tech. It was a jagged, bleeding red.
A man stepped out, his appearance a bizarre fusion of Victorian elegance and alien technology. He wore an ancient, high-collared formal suit, but his head was encased in a brass-and-glass helmet resembling a 19th-century diver's gear. In his hand, he gripped a dual-pronged energy fork.
This was Karn, a member of the Morlun Family—also known as the Inheritors.
To the Morlun family, Spider-Men are not heroes; they are "Totems," and Totems are food. Karn squatted on the rooftop, his gloved hand brushing the concrete where Peter and Gwen had landed hours before.
"That mutant Spider-Man has been here for twelve hours," Karn hissed, his voice like dry leaves scraping on stone. "The fluctuations from her multiversal jump were like a dinner bell."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of the city's psychic atmosphere. As a Totem Hunter, he could track the life force of any Spider-variant across an entire planet.
"Incredible," Karn laughed, a sound devoid of mirth. "Two of them. The mutant girl... and another with a Totem power so pure it makes my blood sing. Two rare delicacies in one city."
He looked toward the horizon, sensing the two distinct signatures in different parts of the city.
"I shall wait until they are together," Karn decided, his grip tightening on his weapon. "A single Spider is a snack. Two... is a feast."
With a sudden, violent motion, Karn leaped from the 103rd floor. He didn't fall; he became a streak of dark energy, vanishing into the New York skyline.
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