THE facility looks exactly as it did the day I left it—unchanged, like time itself had decided to hold its breath.
After two days of brutal travel, we finally return to the place where my nightmare began. The walls still loom like silent witnesses, the air thick with chemicals and something far worse—death.
Gwen's voice breaks the silence. "Peter... this is where you were? For five months?" Her hand finds mine before I can answer, and I just nod. The words aren't there, and even if they were, I wouldn't know where to start.
Octavius steps forward, his presence always calculated. "Yes... I see. So this is where Norman conducted his pathetic goblin pill project." He clasps his hands behind his back, gaze scanning the decaying architecture. "How poetic. That his empire should begin to crumble where he first laid its rotten foundation."
Gargan pushes past me, brushing my shoulder with deliberate force. "Are we goin' in or what? It's creepy as hell out here. I ain't tryin' to end up in some goblin's stomach."
Gwen steadies me with a gentle pull on my arm. Have I mentioned lately how incredible it is to have her? Not just a girlfriend—Gwen. The real kind of anchor when the world's falling apart.
"I say we drag Norman here and end this!" Rhino bellows, pounding his chest with a laugh that echoes through the ruined lot.
Toomes stands quietly at the edge, arms crossed, eyes locked on the building. "If that cure you're all talking about works... we can turn them back? The ones who changed?"
"That's the idea," I say.
His eyes darken, a rare softness breaking through. "My granddaughter... she's about your age. But she doesn't have powers. She's got no way to protect herself out there."
"That's most people," Felicia chimes in, her voice sharp. "But you don't see us—"
I touch her shoulder gently. "Whatever your reason for helping... we're grateful. Let's just finish this."
Max coughs behind us, his usual crackle of electricity barely a flicker now. He's been dim since the prison. We all know he's hurting, but he's still here. Still fighting.
Then, Doctor Connors finally speaks, his tone brittle with disgust. "This place... I helped Norman design parts of it. I thought it was for research, advancement—progress." He shakes his head, voice heavy with regret. "But it's a mausoleum. A monument to arrogance and horror. I never imagined it would become... this."
Octavius glances at him but says nothing.
Without another word, I grip Gwen's hand tighter and lead the way inside.
The door groans open.
The hallway's colder than I remember.
Lights flicker overhead as we make our way deeper into the facility—back to where I first woke up, disoriented and broken, five months after Norman turned New York into a nightmare.
And then I see him.
Virgil's hunched over one of the cracked lab terminals, taloned fingers clicking nervously on the screen. His goblin-like features are sharper in the dim light—sunken yellow eyes, gray-green skin blotched with scars. His breathing quickens the moment he notices me.
He doesn't speak right away.
He just... stares.
Then, like someone plugged him into a socket, he jolts back a step. "Y-You... you're back. You—you're—uh..."
His eyes dart to the crowd behind me—Octavius, Connors, Gwen, Felicia, the others.
Too many strangers.
Virgil swallows. "You b-brought people."
I nod. "I said I would."
He clutches his arm, claws twitching. "Didn't... didn't think you meant this many people."
"They're here to help," I say, keeping my voice level. "You remember what I told you before I left, right?"
His eyes flick toward mine, then down again. "Yes, I do. Although...I wasn't sure you'd come back here...y-you were angry...maybe rightfully so..."
The tension's there, sharp and silent. The last time we spoke, I was yelling. Confused. Angry. He wasn't part of what Norman did—but he was here. Working. Helping. And at the time, that was enough for me to snap.
"I was wrong," I admit quietly. "You didn't know what Norman was really doing. I know that now."
Virgil flinches, like he's not sure whether to believe it—or whether I should've forgiven him so easily.
Before he can answer, Otto steps past me and examines the room with a long, slow sneer. "Disgraceful. This lab is a mausoleum of bad ideas."
Virgil mutters, retreating behind a monitor like it might protect him.
Connors steps forward, eyes adjusting to the darkness. "It's crude. But the infrastructure's here."
Gargan plugs his nose. "Smells like something died in here... twice."
"Is science," Rhino says proudly, flexing as he sniffs the air. "Is beautiful smell. Or maybe just mold."
"I say both," Max adds with a cough. "And I want to stop breathing now."
I ignore them and turn back to Virgil. "This is it. We either fix this, or Norman wins. You said my blood was the key. Well, now you've also got Octavius and Connors. If we're going to fix what Norman did, this is our last chance."
Virgil fidgets with the collar of his torn lab coat. "Y-Yeah, yes. Your blood, it—it helps. It slows the mutation, but it's... not enough."
He hesitates, eyes flicking nervously between the scientists and me.
"Norman's virus... it's not just a virus. It's—it listens. It learns. The longer it's in someone, the more... them it becomes. And once that happens, it... it doesn't want to be cured. It fights back."
Octavius lets out a dry laugh. "Ah. A mutating parasite with a survival instinct. Delightful. So we just need a smarter cure."
Virgil stammers, "Y-Yeah, but even if it's smart, it—it needs a... a backbone. A stable anchor or it just—falls apart."
Connors hums in thought. "A responsive viral base modeled after Spider-Man's blood... could be the stabilizing agent."
Octavius smirks. "Of course it could. Naturally, the foundation must come from me—"
"Us," Connors corrects. "Us, Otto."
They're already deep into it, science words bouncing like a ping-pong match.
Toomes folds his arms. "So what're we supposed to do? Sit on our hands while Dr. Mad Science and Lizard Guy cook up a cure?"
I shake my head. "I don't know how long this'll take. But we've all seen what Norman's willing to do. If he knows we're working on a cure—he'll come for it. So we'll have to be quick."
My eyes drift toward the distant skyline, through the cracked window. Oscorp Tower looms, a half-broken monument to everything I hate.
"That's where he'll be. Where this started."
Where I first got bit by that spider.
I pull Gwen and Felicia aside while the others start prepping. Gwen's already tugging off her extra Spider-Man mask, blowing out a breath of relief.
Felicia rips hers off like it insulted her. "How long do I have to wear this stupid thing? I feel like a knockoff sidekick."
Gwen bumps her playfully. "At least yours doesn't fog up. Mine smells like socks."
"I'd rather not smell like Spider-Man's sweat, thanks." Felicia adds, sliding her mask back on.
I hold up my hands. "You both look awesome. But please—keep the masks on when we're around those guys. I'm not risking your lives because they find out your identities."
Felicia scoffs. "I can handle myself. I mean probably not against any of them...but, I beat up that one guy who put you in a trance or whatever."
"I know," I say, and then look at Gwen. "But I still worry. You're important to me. Both of you."
Gwen smiles softly, cheeks flushed. "Dork."
Then she leans in and kisses me, slow and warm.
Felicia glances away, arms crossed tight. She doesn't say a word.
A second later, I step back toward the lab.
Octavius and Connors are arguing over sequencing, Virgil nervously muttering something about "overclocking the stabilizer." It's like I'm back in biology class working on a lab with my classmates.
I move beside them and point to a diagram on the screen. "You're trying to match every mutation. Don't. Just use me. Use my DNA as the anchor and let the cure build off that."
Virgil blinks. "That... that could work. It—it might work..."
Connors nods slowly. "Actually, that's brilliant."
Octavius snorts.
It feels nice to work with two of my old teachers again. Even if one of them is a tad psychotic. "Let's hurry and get this over with."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I slam my hand against the table, the metal echoing through the broken-down lab. "You're not listening! If we isolate the antigen with my stabilized plasma and then introduce the inhibitor, it won't mutate!"
Octavius steps toward me, stiff and defensive. "You're making assumptions based on emotion, not logic. My calculations are correct."
"You're not even looking at the samples," I fire back. "I've been in there every day. They're breaking down, Otto. Your math isn't holding."
His mouth twitches, like he can't believe I'm questioning him. "I have decades of experience in this field—"
"And Norman still used you like a pawn," I snap. "We don't have time for you to be proud right now."
Connors steps in between us, his voice steady. "Maybe we all take a break before someone says something we regret."
I don't need to be told twice. I back away from the table, hands still shaking a little, and walk out into the main room.
Gwen and Felicia are sitting up on a table, watching as Gargan and Rhino mess around in the ruined lab space. They've dragged half a shelf's worth of shattered chemical bottles into a corner and are mixing them in a rusted beaker.
"If we pour all of it in," Gargan mutters, "maybe it explodes?"
Rhino grins. "Hope so. Boom is fun."
Gwen shakes her head with a soft laugh. "Should we stop them?"
Felicia just shrugs. "Might be the most productive thing they do all week."
Toomes is passed out in a broken chair, snoring like he owns the place, and Electro's crouched by an outlet muttering to himself, fingers sparking like he's trying to charge a phone that doesn't exist.
I walk over to Gwen and lean into her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She doesn't hesitate to hug me back.
"How's it going in the lab?" she asks.
I rest my head on her shoulder. "If I strangle Otto, does that count as murder or community service?"
She snorts. "Definitely community service."
But then Felicia stands up and dusts off her hoodie. "I'm going for a walk."
She says it like it's nothing, like she's not been weirdly distant since we got here. Gwen watches her leave.
"She's been off," Gwen says, voice low. "I've tried to talk to her but... you know how she is."
"Yeah," I sigh. "I do."
I think about all the times I tried to get her to open up. All the times she shut me down or changed the subject or pretended nothing bothered her.
I head after her.
She's in a hallway that overlooks the city. What's left of it. She's standing by a cracked window, the wind slipping through the gaps and tugging at her sleeves. Her hood's still up. She doesn't say anything when I stop next to her.
"You know you haven't insulted me as much lately," I say.
She doesn't laugh. Doesn't even smile. Just asks, soft and flat, "Do you think about them?"
I blink. "Who?"
"The goblins. The people."
Her voice is so quiet, it barely reaches over the wind.
"Yeah," I say. "I do."
She doesn't look at me. "I killed some. Back before I knew. Could've been anyone. A mom. A kid. Someone who lived on my block."
My chest tightens. "Felicia—"
"I didn't even hesitate," she cuts in. "They came at me, and I just—reacted. And now I can't stop thinking about it."
I want to tell her again that she didn't know. That she did what she had to do. That any one of us would've done the same. But I already said all of that, and I don't think words are what she needs right now.
She finally turns toward me and lifts her mask halfway, just enough so I can see her eyes. "Take yours off too," she says.
I glance toward the door. There's always a chance someone could walk out, but... I lift mine anyway.
She stares at me for a long time, like she's trying to memorize something she's afraid to forget.
"I'm not who I used to be," she says, voice shaking. "You knew that before I did."
"I didn't do anything special," I say.
"You treated me like I was more than the worst thing I'd done," she says. "That's not nothing."
Her voice is quiet, but it sticks in my chest like something sharp.
She doesn't look at me after she says it. Just keeps her eyes on the broken skyline, like if she stares long enough, she'll see something worth holding onto out there.
I let the silence sit for a beat. "You were never just the worst thing."
Felicia huffs out a laugh, bitter and short. "You say that like you know me."
"I do," I say without hesitation.
She finally turns to me, brows tight, eyes searching. "You know a version of me I let you see."
"And what? You think that's like...a fake version?" I ask. "That everything I know about you isn't real?"
She doesn't answer. Her jaw clenches and she looks away again.
"I know about the girl who used to steal because it was easier than asking for help," I continue. "The one who sat at the back of the class because she didn't want anyone to get too close. I know the girl who came to school with bruises she pretended she didn't have. Who looked at the world like it was just one long hallway she had to get through without getting hurt again."
Her breath catches just slightly.
"And I know the girl who showed up at my aunt's restaurant looking for a job, even though she said she didn't need one. Who pretended not to care, even when she stayed late to help clean. The one who risked her life to help me over and over again."
"Stop," she says. It's barely above a whisper.
But I don't.
"Then when I disappeared, you were the one who kept her alive. You didn't have to do that. But you did. And when everything fell apart, you didn't run. You stayed. You fought. You kept her safe."
Felicia's shoulders shake. "I was just trying to make it right."
"You are making it right."
She turns toward me again, slower this time. Her eyes are glassy, but she's not crying. Not really.
"I hated who I was," she says. "Before. I hated feeling like everything I touched turned worse. My dad—he always said that we were different. That it was okay if we took what we wanted, and that we could never get attached. And I thought—" She cuts herself off, hands balling into fists. "I thought if I stopped stealing, if I stopped lying, maybe I'd stop feeling like I was broken. But I never did."
"You're not broken," I say.
"You don't know that."
"I do," I tell her. "Because broken people don't protect others like you do. They don't fight to fix things. You've come so far, Felicia. You just... don't see it yet. You've got a steel heart. You don't let anything hold you back."
She stares at me like she wants to believe me. Like she's trying so hard to. A small scoff escapes her, "a steel heart?" She echos. "Why do you even care?" she asks, her voice suddenly small. "Why'd you ever care?"
I could give her a thousand reasons. But I just say the one that feels the most honest.
"Because every time I've failed to be who I needed to be, you were always right there to help me pick myself back up again."
She breathes in slowly. "Being with you gave me something I didn't think I'd ever have again."
"What's that?"
"A choice."
And then—for the first time since I found her by the window—she leans into me. Her head on my shoulder. The weight of it is light, like she's not sure she's allowed to stay there.
But I don't move.
I don't say anything.
I just let her be.
Because sometimes that's all someone needs.
Not a fix. Not a speech.
Just a place to breathe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I twist the wires together, trying to make sense of this broken mess of Oscorp tech. The beeping of the machines is the only sound in the room aside from the low grumbles of Connors, who's hunched over a microscope, muttering to himself.
Octavius is pacing, as usual, throwing in frustrated words like catalytic and retrovirus as if they're supposed to make me feel smarter.
I yank a wire a little too hard, and the thing sparks to life for a second before dying again. "Great. That's exactly what I needed," I mumble, tapping the side of the monitor in frustration.
"Watch yourself, Spider-Man," Octavius snaps, glaring at me. "This is delicate work. One misstep and we risk destroying the entire formula."
"Yeah, I know," I mutter back, rubbing my eyes. "No pressure."
⸻
A few feet away, Electro is practically crawling into a fuse box, his body crackling with blue energy as he fiddles with the wires like it's a simple puzzle. Sparks fly in every direction. "No juice left in this city. And the only thing left here is a damn backup generator. Which the Doc told me I can't use?" He mumbles to himself.
Rhino stumbles in next, arms full of lab equipment that looks like it came straight out of a junkyard. He drops it all in a heap next to Electro with a grunt. "Eh, it's not much, but it's weight training. You want muscles, you got to lift heavy stuff, da?"
Electro just raises an eyebrow. "What—?"
"You got problem?"
Max rolls his eyes and lets out a sarcastic laugh. "You were created in a lab, just like the rest of us."
Rhino laughs loud enough to shake the walls. "Da, but Aleksei was always big man! Woman love it! You know what, Gargan? You should stick with me. We create gym for...misfits."
Gargan, for once, doesn't even grumble. He just snorts, making his way over to where Toomes is curled up in a corner, snoring peacefully.
"Looks like the old man is catching some z's," Gargan mutters. "Real workhorses around here."
⸻
Meanwhile, Gwen and I are taking a short break outside. The sky's clear, and the sun is setting in the distance. She's balancing on the edge of the roof like she's done it a thousand times, her arms outstretched, eyes closed.
"You know, you're gonna fall if you keep doing that," I call, leaning against the wall. "And I won't be there to save you."
She grins without opening her eyes, still holding her balance with ease. "You always save me."
"Not this time," I tease. "You fall, you're on your own."
She spins around, landing lightly on the ground in front of me. "You're just jealous because you can't do it."
"You kidding me? I totally could if I wanted to," I say, puffing out my chest in mock arrogance. "I'm just choosing not to."
She raises an eyebrow. "Uh-huh, sure."
"Have you no faith my dear?" I say with a grin, earning a light punch to the arm.
She rolls her eyes but smiles. "Cringe."
"It's okay if I'm cute."
She laughs softly, walking closer to me. "Yeah, yeah. You're definitely cute."
⸻
Inside, Felicia's just sitting by herself in the corner, staring at the floor. She hasn't said much all day, I thought our talk would've helped more. Every now and then, she'll glance up, watching us, but there's no real fire in her eyes. I want to talk to her, ask if something's wrong, but there's a part of me that knows she won't open up. Not yet.
I find myself catching her stare every now and then, but she looks away every time.
⸻
Later that evening, I'm sitting with Gwen on a makeshift couch in the corner of the lab, trying to relax for a moment. It's like the entire world is on fire, and we're just trying to keep the flames from burning through everything we care about. But when I'm with her, it's a small moment of peace.
Gwen nudges me with her shoulder. "You haven't eaten in hours."
"Does a peanut butter sandwich count?"
"You've been eating those for three days straight. You need real food, Peter. I wish I could make you something."
I raise an eyebrow. "Remember that breakfast you made me?"
She gives me a look. "Yeah, that's about all my culinary skills amount too."
I laugh, putting an arm around her. "Well, it was awesome. I'd take whatever you make. You could put mustard on your pancakes and I'd eat it."
She raises an eyebrow. "Mustard? Really?"
"Well, I was just trying to be sweet. Never make that." I tease, poking her side.
"When we get everything back to normal, it's five mustard pancakes for you Mr. Parker." She leans into me, and for a brief moment, the chaos of everything else fades away.
Just me and her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We've been at it for days. Sleepless hours and relentless work with nothing but formulas and failures—until now.
Virgil stands hunched over the terminal, fingers twitching nervously as he types. Connors is pacing behind him, talking out loud, bouncing ideas off no one and everyone. And Octavius... Octavius is calm. Too calm. He stares at the latest batch in the vial like it's a masterpiece of art. I hate how smug he looks when he says it.
"We've done it," he declares, lifting the vial like a trophy. "This is the answer. The cure."
I lean over, checking the results. "You're sure this is stable?"
"As stable as we'll get," Connors murmurs, voice tinged with awe. "The compound's holding together far longer than the others. The degeneration is almost nonexistent."
Octavius nods once, firm. "Then it's time to test it. We need a live specimen. Retrieve a goblin. We'll see how it reacts under controlled conditions."
I step back, shaking my head. "No. That's not—no. If this doesn't work, we're killing someone."
Octavius narrows his eyes. "Someone? You mean one of the monsters ravaging this city?"
"They were people," I snap. "You don't get to forget that. You don't get to dehumanize them just because it's easier."
Connors tries to step between us. "Let's just calm down—"
But I barely hear him.
Then—soft, unsure—Virgil speaks.
"What if... what if you used me?"
We all turn to him. He's staring at the floor, shoulders tight, voice barely above a whisper. "Half of me... is already infected. Goblin DNA, it's in me. You can test the cure on me."
"No," I say immediately. "No way. That's not—"
But Octavius grins, something sinister behind his lenses. "Now that... would be perfect."
I shoot him a glare. "You're not experimenting on him."
Virgil cuts in. "Mr. Spider-Man... please." He steps forward, shaky but determined. "I need to do this."
"You don't—"
"I do." He swallows. "Ever since this started, I've been trying to make things right. I thought keeping the city safe while you were gone was enough. But it wasn't. People are still suffering. And if there's a chance I can stop even a little of that, then... it's worth it."
There's silence. I hate this. I hate how much I understand.
I give a reluctant nod. "Okay. But if something goes wrong—"
"I know," Virgil says quietly. "I know."
The process is careful. Connors and Octavius handle the prep, while I help Virgil sit in the chair, hooking up the monitors and restraints. He doesn't flinch once, though I know he's scared. I can feel it radiating off him.
Connors injects the serum. There's a beat.
Then Virgil starts convulsing.
Green veins pulse down his arm—then twist. Morph. The twisted, rough goblin-like texture smooths over, color fading from a sickly green to pale skin. Slowly, inch by inch, the warped half of his body shrinks, reshaping. Until—
He's human.
Fully human.
Connors stumbles back, breath caught. "My god..."
I move forward immediately. "Virgil, you okay?"
He's breathing hard, hands touching his face, his chest, his arm. Tears fill his eyes. "It's gone. I—I'm normal."
I catch his shoulders. "You did it. You really did it."
Connors wipes his glasses with trembling fingers. "If this works on goblin DNA, then... maybe it can work on me too."
"You're different," I say gently. "Your mutation didn't come from my blood. But when this is over—when we save everyone—we'll figure yours out too. I promise."
But Octavius is already back to business. "Don't celebrate yet. This vial, this formula, won't even be enough for a single school cafeteria. If we want to cure the city... we'll need more."
"And more of my blood," I mutter.
He nods. "Yes. But also... a method of mass delivery."
"What about the way Norman did it?" I ask. "The gas, remember? It spread across half the city in hours."
Virgil nods slowly. "That machine's still in Oscorp. That's how he infected everyone in the first place. I know how it works—he modeled it on a high-capacity dispersal rig. He used Spider-Man's DNA to make the virus airborne."
"Then that's the plan," I say. "We break into Oscorp, take the fight to Norman, and use his own machine to end this. Once and for all."
Octavius turns away, already jotting something down. I look at Connors and Virgil.
"You two don't have to come. I've got the others—the Six. We can do this."
Connors is silent for a moment. Then: "I'm not letting you go alone. I can keep the lizard in check. I have to."
Virgil gives a half-smile. "I'd only slow you down."
I squeeze his shoulder once. "You've done enough, man. More than enough."
I gather the others—Rhino, Electro, Toomes, Gargan.
"We're heading to Oscorp. We're gonna end this. You all in?"
Rhino cracks his knuckles. "Was born ready."
Electro shrugs. "If it gets me out of this dump, fine. Let's fry that lunatic."
Toomes lifts a brow. "Without our suits, we're just regular guys."
Gargan nods beside him. "No claws, no edge."
Octavius enters, stepping forward. He tosses them two small metal cubes. "I never leave a project behind."
They catch them—and as the cubes hum, sleek, upgraded armor unfurls from the devices, crawling over their bodies and snapping into place. Faster, sharper, more advanced. I frown. That's going to be a problem later.
But right now, we need them.
As the Six prepare, Gwen walks over. Her hand brushes mine. She doesn't speak at first—just looks into my eyes.
"You're leaving," she says softly.
"You and Felicia stay here," I tell her. "With Virgil. It's safer."
She doesn't argue. But her voice wavers. "When you left before... I thought you died. I can't—" She bites her lip. "Just don't. Don't die. I don't care how many villains or goblins or whatever are waiting. I need you to come back. I need you to come home."
I hold her hand a little tighter. "I will. I promise."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The base is buzzing. Gear clinks, voices echo, footsteps thud across concrete floors—everyone getting ready for the big push.
The final one, hopefully.
I slip past the others, checking the straps on my web-shooters, the backup cartridges tucked into my belt. My mind is already in Oscorp's upper levels, replaying routes, escape plans, countermeasures. I'm about to head back toward the others when I hear someone behind me—bare steps, soft and cautious.
"Hey."
I turn and see her.
Felicia stands just a few feet away. She's wearing the mask, but it's just slightly pulled back behind her head. Her hair's a little tousled, her arms crossed like she's trying to hold something in. But she doesn't look away.
"Hey," I say, smiling gently. "You good?"
She nods, a little too quickly. "Yeah. Just... thought I'd catch you before you ran off to swim with the sharks."
I raise an eyebrow. "You mean save the city?"
She shrugs. "Tomato, tomahto."
I laugh, and she doesn't. Not because she doesn't think it's funny, but because... she's somewhere else in her head. Her eyes flick over my face, tracing every line like she's memorizing it. There's something different in them. I can't put my finger on it.
"You gonna be okay while we're gone?" I ask.
She nods again, slower this time. "I'll be fine. I've got Gwen..And I've got this." She lightly taps her chest with a closed fist. "Steel heart, remember?"
I smirk. "Right. Steel heart."
She steps closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth of her even in the cool air of the lab. Her expression doesn't shift much, but there's a slight softness to it, like her usual smirk has been melted down into something gentler. Something careful.
She raises her hand, and for a second I think she's going to hug me, or kiss my cheek, or say something else that's crazy.
But she doesn't.
Instead, she reaches out, hooks her finger through one of my web-shooter triggers, and presses it—just enough that a thin strand of webbing shoots out and sticks to the ceiling. It dangles there like a banner.
"Oops," she says with a small smile. "Now you're marked."
I blink. "Marked?"
"Mhm." She steps back. "That web-shooter is mine now. So don't go getting yourself killed, okay? I don't like when people lose my stuff."
I smile at her. "That's ridiculous."
She shrugs again. "Yeah, I think maybe I've hung around you too much."
There's a flicker of something else behind her eyes—just for a second. Not mischief. Not sarcasm.
Something warmer.
But she turns before I can read it, pulling her mask back over her head. "Go do what you got to do, spider."
I hesitate, then nod.
"See you soon, Felicia."
She doesn't answer. Just lifts one hand in a mock salute as she walks away, the dangling web still swaying above us like a thread of promises.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Right as I'm about to head out with the others, Octavius calls my name from down the hall. He's standing beside Connors near one of the sealed rooms in the facility, and he looks... unusually pleased with himself.
"Before you throw yourself into the fire," he says, "there's something we've been working on. A precaution."
I walk over, confused. "What do you mean working on? Since when?"
"Since the night we finished the cure," Connors adds, limping slightly as he moves beside the metal door. "We figured... if you were really going to go up against Norman, you'd need more than webs and good intentions."
Otto types in a code. With a sharp hiss, the door slides open, and there it is.
Hanging from a reinforced frame is a new suit.
It's plated, sleek but sturdy—black with sharp yellow lines tracing through the segmented armor like glowing veins. It looks like something between a stealth suit and a combat exoskeleton. The spider emblem across the chest is gold, stretched wide like it's ready to leap off.
"The plates are a lightweight titanium-carbide alloy, reinforced with micro-fiber mesh. Resistant to heat, electricity, and most forms of impact," Otto explains, walking toward it with an odd mix of pride and hesitation. "It'll enhance your strength, help with muscle fatigue, and the joints are calibrated for speed and flexibility. The gauntlets can withstand significant recoil, and the lenses have upgraded optics—night vision, thermal, all of it."
Connors chimes in, "And the undersuit regulates temperature and pressure. We even tested it for glider turbulence. Just in case."
I blink. Then blink again.
"You... built me an upgraded suit," I whisper, stepping closer to it like I'm afraid it might disappear if I breathe too hard. "You guys Power Ranger-ed me."
Otto tilts his head, mildly puzzled. "Is that a compliment?"
"It's the biggest compliment," I say, still staring. "You basically gave me the Black Ranger armor. But if it were designed by Batman."
Connors lets out a small laugh. "We'll take that as a win."
I step even closer and place a hand on the chest plate. The surface is cool under my fingers, like it's waiting—just waiting—for me to suit up and go full-on hero mode.
The gold spider emblem almost glows beneath the dim lights of the lab.
"I think I'm gonna faint," I mutter.
"Don't," Otto says dryly.
I can't help the grin spreading across my face. I glance at both of them, sincerity settling behind the excitement.
"You guys really did this for me?"
Connors nods. "We couldn't let you go in there without every advantage possible. You've done more for this city than either of us ever could. We just wanted to give you a fighting chance."
"More accurately it would be foolish to lose you to the Goblin, so we merely provide—"
"You guys really did this for me?" I say, not even bothering to listen to his explanation.
I press my palm over the spider symbol. It's real. All of this is real.
"Then let's give the Goblin the finale he deserves."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun barely breaks through the clouds as we stand near the gates of the facility. The air smells like ash and ozone, a reminder of the world we're about to step back into.
Gwen, Felicia, and Virgil wait near the edge, watching us get ready. Felicia's arms are crossed—same as before—but her eyes flick over to me and linger a second longer than usual.
It's probably the suit.
"Wow," Gwen says, eyebrows lifting. "So... Batman called and asked for it back yet?"
I grin. "Funny you say that I literally made the same joke earlier!" I glance down at myself and smile sheepishly.
Felicia lets out a low whistle. "You look like a walking battery."
"Don't say that around Max," I murmur. "He might take that literally."
Max, already crackling with light nearby, grins.
Rhino stomps over, eyeing the armor. "Spider gets shiny new armor and I get bug boy on my back. Life is unfair."
"I am not bug boy," Mac snaps, clinging to Rhino like a hostile Koala. "I'm a scorpion, you walking tank."
"Tank is more accurate," Rhino grunts proudly.
"To be fair," Toomes mutters, inspecting his own wings, "We also got our own upgrades."
Felicia gives me a once-over, lips twitching into a subtle smile. "Too bad, I was kinda starting to get used to the blue and red."
"Yeah?" I say a bit shy. "Thought you said it was dorky?"
Felicia shrugs. "Exactly why it was perfect for you."
Behind us, Octavius adjusts the secure harness carrying the vials of cure on his back. "Focus," he says, his arms curling and twitching like snakes coiled in rhythm. "The armor was meant to keep you alive. Now let's make sure it wasn't wasted effort."
I nod, stepping forward and lifting my mask halfway. My team—however weird and criminally-inclined—stands behind me. Ready. Gwen meets my eyes and offers me that tiny, brave smile. Felicia shifts her weight and gives me a look I can't read, but it stays with me.
"Look," I begin, voice carrying over the wind. "This is probably the strangest team-up in New York history, and yeah, you're all still technically bad guys—"
"Allegedly," Gargan cuts in.
"—but today?" I glance around at each of them. "Today, you're the good guys. Whether you like it or not. We fight for everyone who can't. For the people still trapped out there. We fight for redemption. For second chances. For a better city."
The wind quiets. Even the goblins in the distance seem to hush for a moment.
Rhino nods slowly. "You are good with words. Very speechy."
"Still gonna web your mouth shut later," I grin, pulling the mask down.
Toomes groans. "How about we get going already?"
Vulture wraps an arm around Connors, lifting him. Octavius grips Electro with a metallic arm, coils tightening.
Mac clings tighter to Rhino's back like a caffeinated goblin hunter. "Alright, let's go cause some permanent damage."
Rhino smirks. "Is good day to become legends."
I swing ahead of them all, my new suit humming softly with energy. It moves with me—streamlined, responsive. For the first time in a long time, I feel ready. Really ready.
The city greets us with chaos. Broken buildings. Screams in the distance. The world is still cracked in half.
Then the goblins arrive.
They pour in from alleys and rooftops, shrieking. Twisted, mutated shadows of who they used to be.
Rhino barrels into the first wave with a roar, tossing them like ragdolls. Gargan fires acidic blasts from his tail, sizzling through the swarm. Above us, Electro lights up the sky, bolts sizzling like fireworks.
Vulture circles, dropping Connors's custom sedatives from the air—goblins twitch and crumple under the chemical clouds.
Octavius is a blur of motion—tentacles lashing out, blocking hits, flinging bodies into walls. He lifts Electro higher, giving him a better angle to fry the incoming threats.
And me?
I'm flying between them. Webbing goblins into tight balls, swinging in low to yank one away from Connors, twisting mid-air and hurling a second through a smashed window.
The suit's response time is perfect. Every movement feels stronger, faster. Like I'm finally caught up to what the world demands of me.
Block after block, we push forward.
I barely hear myself breathe. It's all adrenaline and grit.
And still, somewhere deep in the back of my mind...
Harry.
Is he okay? Is he safe?
Would Norman really let anything happen to his own son?
Would I?
I shove the thoughts down and press on.
Finally, the Oscorp Tower rises above the skyline—twisted glass, green glow bleeding from every floor.
This is where it all started. Where I became Spider-Man.
We land together, bloodied and breathless, but alive. Dust clings to us. The city groans around us. The goblins retreat for now.
I stare up at that tower and tighten my fists.
This is it.
We end it here.