Inside the Manhattan Police Department, the atmosphere was heavy.
Paperwork covered every desk. Phones rang constantly. Officers moved with tired eyes and stiff shoulders. No one had slept properly since the chaos of the past few nights.
In the Director's office, Assistant Ogg stood with a file in his hand. His tie was loose, his voice slightly strained from exhaustion.
"Chief George," he said, "it has been confirmed. The information provided by Batman about Norman Osborn being responsible for the murders in the third basement and the Spencer family is accurate."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"All detention cells are full. Should we transfer him directly to prison?"
Chief George Stacy looked up sharply.
"What are you talking about?" he snapped. "Did you forget what I said last night? Contact a psychiatrist and evaluate his mental state."
Ogg inhaled slowly. He had worked through the night organizing evidence — Dr. Otto's case, Kingpin's arrest, the sudden wave of criminal surrenders triggered by Batman's actions. It was Saturday, and instead of resting, he was drowning in paperwork.
Still, he kept his tone respectful.
"Director, we truly have no available cells. Dr. Otto will be transferred to a hospital to remove his mechanical tentacles, which will free one cell. But Norman still occupies another, and we cannot place him with other criminals."
He hesitated before adding,
"If prison is not appropriate… perhaps we should consider a mental hospital. A respected scientist and billionaire does not suddenly become a mass murderer without serious psychological instability."
Instead of calming down, George Stacy slammed his palm on the desk.
"That's it," he said firmly. "You're right."
He leaned back in his chair, thinking quickly.
"There's a facility in the northern suburbs — under NYPD management. Find their contact number. Transfer those with suspected mental abnormalities there."
Ogg blinked.
"You mean the Ravencroft Institute?"
Stacy nodded.
"Yes. Ravencroft."
Nominally, Ravencroft was a mental hospital.
In reality, it was closer to a prison.
High walls. Armed guards. Security checkpoints. Psychiatric staff. Electrified cells.
It was built specifically for dangerous individuals whose crimes were tied to unstable mental conditions.
"Then I'll arrange for psychiatric evaluations," Ogg replied. "Honestly, I suspect half the people arrested last night will qualify. Some of them still insist they were attacked by a ghost calling himself Batman."
Normally, a police station might not deal with a severely mentally unstable criminal for months.
Now, in just days, they had multiple.
"Norman Osborn is suitable for Ravencroft," Stacy muttered. "His behavior after arrest shows no aggression. Only regret. That inconsistency is concerning."
Even Otto Octavius could have been sent there — if S.H.I.E.L.D. had not quickly intervened with official documentation and legal authority.
Ogg turned to leave, then stopped.
"What about Kingpin?" he asked. "Theoretically, he could be transferred to Ravencroft as well."
Stacy's face hardened.
"Theoretically? No. His mental state is extremely stable."
Ogg raised an eyebrow.
"And practically?"
"Practically, also no," Stacy replied dryly. "And I'm not implying anything."
He rubbed his forehead, then suddenly remembered something.
"Oh — notify Norman's and Kingpin's lawyers. All procedures must be legally airtight. I refuse to be sued by crime bosses and corporate elites one after another."
Ogg nodded.
"Already handled. Kingpin has retained counsel."
He paused before continuing.
"As for Norman Osborn… the Osborn Group held an emergency board meeting yesterday. They voted to remove him from the board entirely."
Stacy frowned.
"So fast?"
"Businessmen protect themselves first. Public statements are already circulating — they're calling Norman mentally unstable and distancing the corporation from him."
"And they refuse to provide him with legal representation?"
"Yes."
"Then who—"
"I contacted his only direct relative," Ogg replied quietly. "Harry Osborn."
After Ogg left, Chief Stacy leaned back in his chair.
He stared at the ceiling and muttered to himself.
"Doctor Octopus. Green Goblin. Kingpin. Hammerhead…"
He exhaled.
"In just a few days, Batman has delivered half a rogues' gallery to my station."
He shook his head slowly.
New York needed a special prison for extraordinary criminals.
---
Osborn Manor.
The large living room felt emptier than usual. Curtains were drawn. Dust gathered on polished surfaces.
Harry Osborn stood near the window, his shoulders slumped.
"Peter," he said in a hoarse voice, "the police contacted me. They're arranging for a psychiatric evaluation. My father may be transferred to the Ravencroft Institute."
Across from him sat Peter Parker.
But beneath the glasses and casual posture was Batman, observing carefully.
He had not dismantled the listening devices previously installed in the manor. At first, it was to monitor whether Norman Osborn might secretly return.
Now, it served another purpose — watching Harry's mental stability.
Harry looked terrible.
He had lost weight. His skin was pale from sleepless nights. His hair was messy. He wore the same clothes as before.
"Peter," Harry whispered, "do you know how I felt when I learned about the human experiments? About the murders? Even the Spencer family…"
His voice trembled.
"One morning, I saw my father collapsed in the hallway. I thought he was under pressure. I tried to comfort him."
He clenched his fists tightly.
"But now… he was the mastermind."
Tears filled his bloodshot eyes.
"He's still my father."
He looked up, anger and grief mixing together.
"Why do I have to carry this? Why me?"
Peter remained calm externally.
Inside, Bruce Wayne understood that question too well.
He remembered being eight years old. Standing in Crime Alley. Watching his parents fall.
Pain could create two things — strength or madness.
He would not let Harry fall into the second.
"Harry," Peter said softly, "do you remember Dr. Otto? The scientist you introduced me to?"
Harry nodded weakly.
"After evaluation, it was determined that Dr. Otto lost control due to external influence. His mechanical tentacles affected his mind."
Harry looked up slightly.
"You're saying…?"
"I'm saying we don't know the full truth yet," Peter replied carefully. "Your father may not have been fully in control."
Hope flickered in Harry's eyes.
"Peter… you're smart. Tell me what to do."
"First, wait for the psychiatric report," Peter said calmly. "Second, do not make decisions out of grief."
As he spoke, he discreetly activated a micro-device hidden in his sleeve. A nearly invisible mist of mild sedative gas was released — the same formula he had used previously to stabilize Harry's emotional state.
Harry's breathing gradually slowed. His shoulders relaxed slightly.
Meanwhile —
Inside a reinforced detention cell at the Manhattan Police Department, Norman Osborn sat within an electrified cage.
A psychiatrist had just finished questioning him.
Throughout the evaluation, Norman displayed nothing but sorrow and regret. He answered calmly. Cooperatively.
Once the doctor left and officers informed him he would soon be transferred to Ravencroft, the expression on his face changed.
The remorse faded.
A slow smile formed.
A voice echoed inside his mind — not from outside, but from within.
"Great power… shattered will… who are you?"
Norman's fingers twitched slightly.
He flexed his muscles subtly.
The injuries inflicted by Batman — shattered bones, torn muscle fibers — were healing rapidly.
"Oh…" he whispered faintly.
"I am the mighty Green Goblin."
The smile widened.
And in the silence of the cell, something far more dangerous than madness was awakening.
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