At the hospital, Harry Osborn opened the door to his father's ward and stepped inside. He assumed his father was still resting, but he was startled to see Norman Osborn standing stiffly in front of the window, staring out into the night.
Hearing Harry's voice, Norman slowly turned around. The eerie scarlet glow in his eyes faded as he blinked.
"Did you hear that?" Norman asked, his voice hoarse.
Harry furrowed his brows. "Hear what?"
Norman sighed, rubbing his temple. "A sound. Like an electric shaver buzzing. No… not exactly that. It's more like a second heartbeat inside me—loud, erratic. And it whispers to me constantly."
Harry's expression shifted from confusion to concern.
Ever since the lab explosion, Norman had felt… different. His body was burning from the inside out, filled with an unnatural strength. Sounds that were once imperceptible were now amplified. He could hear the faintest footsteps, the hum of electrical wires behind walls, even the frantic heartbeats of doctors passing by.
Yet, along with these newfound abilities, his mind felt fractured, like another entity was growing inside him—an aggressive, hungry force.
"Are you feeling okay, Dad?" Harry asked, stepping forward.
Norman inhaled sharply, forcing a strained smile. "I'm fine, Harry." He straightened up, suppressing the nausea twisting in his gut. "If you don't have anything urgent, you should go home."
Harry hesitated. He had overheard something unsettling at the Oscorp board meeting earlier.
"Actually, Dad… I heard some things today at Oscorp." He exhaled, glancing at his father. "The board members were saying that the company is in trouble—that the genetic engineering division hasn't produced any results in two and a half years. They claim the formulas are unstable and that Oscorp's finances are collapsing."
Norman's jaw clenched. His fingers twitched as rage bubbled inside him.
"What exactly are you trying to say, Harry?" His voice was dangerously low.
Harry swallowed, sensing the tension in the room. "I just… wanted to ask if it's true."
"Shut up!"
Norman's sudden outburst made Harry stumble back in shock.
"You think you understand business? You think you know how hard I've worked for this company? You're weak, Harry! You've never had the drive to fight for what's ours!"
Harry's mouth opened, but no words came out. His father's eyes were glowing red again, his expression twisted with anger.
"You are a disgrace to the Osborn name!" Norman roared.
His arm lashed out—BANG!—his fist slammed against the wooden table, splintering it into pieces.
Harry froze.
Norman blinked, staring at the shattered wood beneath his trembling fist. The unnatural strength… the terrifying power surging through his veins… Was this truly a side effect of the serum?
Harry took an uneasy step back. "Dad…?"
Norman slowly raised his shaking hand, staring at it with a mixture of awe and horror.
Meanwhile, at the NYPD Interrogation Room
Detective George Stacy slammed his hands on the table, glaring at the man seated across from him.
Matt Murdock, better known as Daredevil, sat there wrapped in bandages, his head, shoulders, and arms covered in gauze. He looked like he had barely survived a war, yet his expression remained calm behind his newly replaced sunglasses.
"I'm a lawyer, Detective. And while I may look like a wreck, my mind is still sharp," Matt said with a faint smirk. "Some of these accusations are… a bit ridiculous."
George clenched his fists. Ever since Peter Parker handed over the evidence, he had been waiting for this moment—to finally put Murdock behind bars and dismantle Kingpin's empire.
But he needed more.
"I know you work for Kingpin," George said, his voice firm. "We have enough to lock you up for years, but I want more. I want him."
Matt adjusted his sunglasses and sighed. "Detective Stacy, Mr. Wilson Fisk is a respected businessman. Without clear evidence, any further accusations could be seen as… an act of war."
"An act of war?" George scoffed. "Trust me, Murdock, once I have enough, Fisk is done."
Matt leaned forward slightly. "You don't get it, do you? Your mystery informant—whoever he is—he has everything you need. If he wanted to, he could dismantle every crime syndicate in New York overnight."
George narrowed his eyes. "Then why hasn't he?"
"Because," Matt said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "he doesn't want to. He's still playing the game."
George studied Matt carefully. "You're saying he's toying with them?"
Matt nodded. "And if Fisk is still standing, it's because he wants him to be."
For a long moment, neither man spoke.
Finally, George leaned in. "Who is he?"
Matt exhaled slowly. "I don't know. But I promise you this, Detective—you will meet him one day."
Back at the Hospital
Norman Osborn sat alone in his darkened room, staring at his reflection in the window.
The pain was fading, but something new was taking its place. Power.
Unparalleled, raw power.
His lips curled into a slow, menacing smile as he clenched his fists.
Something inside him whispered. "They doubt you. They think you're weak. Show them the truth. Show them what happens when they betray you."
A low chuckle rumbled from his throat.
Tonight, Norman Osborn had been reborn.
And soon, the world would know the name of the Green Goblin.