A golden beam burst from Renzo's forehead—he was furious. Even if Otto's mind had been affected by the mechanical arms, that was no excuse for endangering an entire train full of people.
"Ah!" Dr. Octavius screamed as the laser sliced straight through his mechanical tentacles.
"Still want to keep playing?" Renzo's eyes flickered red—something he didn't even notice. If anyone from across the multiverse had seen it, they would have sworn it looked exactly like Ultron's gaze.
"Do you enjoy treating people's lives like a joke?" Renzo slammed a fist into Otto, knocking him down. He stepped forward, staring coldly at the older man lying on the train roof.
"Do you think you're superior? Or that sacrificing all of New York is acceptable for your ridiculous experiment?" Renzo struck him again and again, his voice low but relentless.
"Others can build a sun in a cave with scraps—you really think you're the smartest scientist alive?"
"Osborn was right to cut your funding. You're nowhere near capable of completing that experiment!"
"Your wife died because of your stubbornness and arrogance. From where I stand… her death wasn't—"
"Enough!" Otto roared, finally snapping. "How dare you speak about my wife!"
She was the person he loved most—his constant support, the one who had sacrificed everything for him. He would never allow anyone to insult her.
Driven by rage, Otto lashed out. His tentacles shot forward, grabbing Renzo from behind and lifting him into the air.
"You deserve to die!" Otto bellowed, smashing Renzo violently against the train roof again and again. The vibranium body left deep dents in the metal, each impact echoing loudly.
Still not satisfied, Otto hurled Renzo beneath the train, dragging him along the rails.
Clang! Clang!
Sparks flew continuously as Renzo's body scraped against the tracks—but it held.
Otto didn't press the attack further. Seeing Spider-Man rushing toward him, he abandoned Renzo, smashed the braking system, and fled with his remaining three tentacles.
Peter climbed back onto the train just in time to see Otto escaping. He was about to give chase—
Then the train lurched violently, nearly throwing him off.
"What—?!"
"Help!"
Panicked screams filled the carriages. Looking ahead, Peter saw the unfinished track. If the train kept going, everyone aboard would die.
Heart racing, he scrambled to the front of the train and shouted, "Hold on to something!"
The passengers obeyed immediately. At that moment, Spider-Man was the only one they could trust.
Peter braced himself, placing his feet against the rails, trying to use his strength to slow the train.
"Ah!" Pain shot through his legs—this wasn't working. He couldn't stop it this way.
"What do I do…?" His mind went blank. No matter how strong he was, he couldn't halt an entire train alone.
Then—
Renzo burst out from beneath the train, looked at the speeding cars, and shouted, "Use your webbing! Anchor the train!"
"Webbing…" Peter steadied himself, as if finding direction again. Spotting structures along the sides, he took a deep breath and fired webs outward, securing them as he planted himself against the front of the train, straining to slow it down.
Renzo flew to the rear, shattered the back window, and grabbed hold of the train with both hands. Bracing his legs against the tracks, he held firm—his vibranium body unyielding.
One at the front. One at the rear.
Working in tandem.
"It's too late!" someone cried.
Passengers shut their eyes in despair, convinced they were about to die.
"Damn it!" Renzo's expression twisted. They had lost too much time fighting Otto earlier. Unlike before, the train wasn't slowing in time—it kept racing forward.
"Ahhh!" Peter roared, his arms trembling as if they would tear apart. His face turned red as he forced every last ounce of strength from his body.
With a deafening screech—
The train finally stopped.
But the front carriage derailed completely, tipping forward and falling with Peter still attached.
Seeing him about to be crushed, Renzo gritted his teeth and pulled hard on the rear cars, lifting and stabilizing the train midair.
Inside, the passengers slowly realized—
They were alive.
Cheers erupted. Some cried openly, overwhelmed with relief.
Renzo strained, pulling the carriage back onto the rails. With the passengers' help, Peter was dragged to safety as well.
"Thank you for saving us!" a heavyset man said, wiping his tears as he looked at Renzo.
One by one, the passengers turned their gaze toward Renzo and Peter. They didn't speak—but their gratitude said everything.
Renzo stood there, momentarily stunned by their simple, earnest expressions.
"…Thank me?" he murmured.
For the first time, he understood why Tony Stark had changed—why someone like him would choose to sacrifice everything.
It was for people like these.
Without another word, Renzo lifted the exhausted Peter and quietly left the scene.
...
Harry sat tensely on the sofa, taking a slow sip of red wine. A dagger rested on the table in front of him, waiting.
"Spider-Man…" His eyes burned with anger and grief. His father—his kind, gentle father—had been killed by that man. The wounds on Norman Osborn's body were still etched into his memory.
"That hypocrite…" Harry muttered, placing all the blame on Spider-Man, refusing to acknowledge his father's own actions. No matter what, Norman had been his father.
Whoosh—
A gust of wind swept into the room.
Harry turned sharply. On the balcony stood a battered Dr. Octavius, his expression dark and feral.
"Where's Spider-Man?" Harry asked, sensing something was wrong.
"Spider-Man…" Otto repeated, stepping closer. Suddenly, a tentacle lashed out, wrapping tightly around Harry's throat. "You didn't tell me there was another… monster helping him!"
"What—" Harry's face flushed red as he struggled to breathe.
"Hmph." Otto snorted and flung him aside. Harry slammed into the table and collapsed.
"Our deal is off," Otto said coldly. "I'm taking what I came for."
Ignoring Harry, he strode to the safe. With a single strike of his mechanical arms, he shattered it and retrieved its contents.
The room fell silent once more.
Harry lay unconscious on the cold floor, bruised and broken.
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