My body is a stranger to me. I wake from fitful sleep, muscles coiled with energy I don't know how to contain. The transformation isn't finished—I can feel it continuing, cells rewriting themselves hour by hour. Bernard knocked twice more, concern evident in his voice, but I kept the door locked. I can't risk him seeing me like this, climbing walls and sticking to the ceiling in a daze of newfound power.
The clock reads 6:17 AM. I've been in this room for nearly eighteen hours, alternating between sleep, experimentation, and frantic note-taking. So far I've discovered:
1. I can stick to any surface, controlling the adhesion with a thought.
2. My strength is... frightening. I crushed a metal paperweight into a ball without trying.
3. My reflexes operate on a different timescale now—I caught a glass I knocked off the nightstand before consciously registering it had fallen.
4. Something else is happening too, a strange buzzing at the base of my skull when—
The sensation hits me now, a prickling awareness directing my attention to the door seconds before a soft knock sounds.
"Mr. Osborn?" Bernard's voice, tight with worry. "Sir, I must insist you open the door. Your father has called three times this morning."
My father. Norman Osborn. The Green Goblin-to-be. Reality crashes back into my spider-power euphoria.
"One minute, Bernard," I call, scrambling to appear normal. I throw on a robe over my clothes, mess my hair to suggest I've been sleeping, and splash water on my face before opening the door.
Bernard's expression confirms I look like hell, which is perfect for my alibi. "Sir, you look terrible."
"Thanks," I croak, leaning against the doorframe in feigned weakness. "Some kind of flu, I think."
Bernard frowns, clearly torn between respect for my privacy and genuine concern. "Perhaps a doctor—"
"No." Too forceful. I soften my tone. "No doctors. I'll be fine. What did my father want?"
"He was..." Bernard hesitates, choosing his words carefully, "displeased about your absence from yesterday's demonstration. Apparently Dr. Lowell mentioned you were there initially but left before speaking with the students."
Perfect. Norman knows I was near the spiders. Now to lay groundwork for my "illness" that will cover the physical changes.
"I started feeling sick at Oscorp," I say. "Maybe it was something in the lab... some chemical exposure?" I let the suggestion hang there.
Bernard's eyes widen slightly. "Should I inform your father of this possibility?"
"No!" Again, too sharp. "I mean, no need to worry him yet. Let's see if I improve today." I steady myself against the wall, playing up the weakness. "Could you bring me some coffee and toast? I should try to eat something."
"Of course, sir. And what shall I tell your father when he inevitably calls again?"
I consider this. Norman will be suspicious if I'm too unavailable, but I need time to adjust to these changes.
"Tell him I'm working from home today. Important project. I'll call him this afternoon."
Bernard nods, though his expression suggests he doesn't envy being the messenger to Norman Osborn. After he leaves, I return to the bathroom mirror, studying my reflection for visible changes.
My eyes seem clearer, muscles more defined beneath my t-shirt. Nothing dramatic—I still look like Harry Osborn—but there's a subtle difference in how I carry myself, a coiled energy visible even at rest.
The buzzing sensation returns suddenly—my spider-sense alerting me to... my phone? It vibrates on the nightstand a moment later. Unknown number. I answer cautiously.
"Hello?"
"Harry? It's Peter. Peter Parker."
My heart skips. The spider was supposed to bite him yesterday. In some alternate timeline, he's the one waking up with these powers right now.
"Peter, hey." I inject false casualness into my voice. "What's up?"
"I, uh, saw you at Oscorp yesterday. During our field trip?"
"Right, yeah." I feign remembrance. "Sorry I didn't say hi. I wasn't feeling great, had to leave early."
"No problem. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked... not good when you left."
Even without his powers, Peter remains fundamentally Peter—concerned about others, observant, kind.
"Just a bug," I assure him. "How was the rest of the tour?"
"Pretty cool. The spider exhibits were amazing, though Dr. Lowell seemed nervous when someone noticed one was missing."
A chill runs through me. "Missing?"
"Yeah. Fifteen specimens instead of sixteen. She tried to play it off, but our guide seemed freaked out."
I rub the back of my neck where the bite had been. "Weird. Listen, Peter, I should probably—"
"Oh! Almost forgot why I called. There's a presentation at Empire State University tomorrow on quantum engineering. MJ mentioned you might be interested."
Mary Jane Watson. The third piece of the classic Spider-Man triangle, now part of my life instead.
"MJ talked about me?" I ask before I can stop myself.
Peter laughs. "Dude, she talks about you all the time. Anyway, the presentation's at 7. We thought maybe you'd want to join us?"
An opportunity to connect with both Peter and MJ, to establish those crucial relationships. Plus, quantum engineering could be valuable knowledge for my Batman Beyond plans.
"Yeah, I'd like that," I say. "Text me the details?"
After hanging up, I sit heavily on the bed, the weight of what I've done settling over me. I've altered the fundamental Spider-Man origin story. Peter Parker remains ordinary while I now possess the powers meant for him.
Was it the right choice? Don't know and at this point, I don't care.
The door opens as Bernard returns with a tray of toast, coffee, and orange juice. I thank him, asking for privacy while I eat. Once alone, I test my enhanced strength on the toast—how delicately can I handle it without crushing it to crumbs? The control comes easier now, like learning to modulate my voice.
I need to start planning in earnest. The spider powers are just the beginning. To become the hero I envision—a Batman Beyond for the Marvel universe—I'll need technology, resources, a base of operations. And I'll need to move quickly before Norman's transformation into the Goblin complicates everything.
Pulling out my laptop, I create a secure document and begin to outline my plans:
*Phase 1: Stabilize and test powers
- Map full extent of abilities (strength limits, reflexes, wall-crawling)
- Develop training regimen
- Design preliminary suit for testing
Phase 2: Resources and infrastructure
Secure personal control of Oscorp assets
- Identify trusted technical collaborators
- Establish secure base location
- Begin R&D for advanced tech
Phase 3: Batman Beyond prototype
- Design suit with stealth capabilities
- Integrate spider powers with tech enhancements
- Develop signature equipment (variations on batarangs, grappling systems)
- Create secure communication networks*
I pause, fingers hovering over the keyboard. There's another crucial element I've been avoiding: Norman Osborn. My "father" is already exhibiting signs of the mental instability that leads to the Green Goblin. Do I try to prevent his transformation? Help him? Stop him?
In the original timeline, the Goblin formula enhances Norman's strength and agility but fractures his mind. With my spider powers, I could potentially confront him directly if necessary, but prevention would be better.
I add another section to my document:
*Norman Intervention:
- Access full Goblin formula research
- Develop potential antidote/treatment
- Monitor behavior for escalation
- Secure GREEN project materials if possible*
My stomach growls, reminding me that enhanced metabolism means enhanced hunger. I devour the toast Bernard brought, but it barely takes the edge off. I need real food, and lots of it.
Time to test myself in the real world. I take a quick shower, dress in casual clothes, and exit my room for the first time in nearly a day.
Bernard looks up from arranging flowers in the living room, surprise evident on his face. "Feeling better, sir?"
"Much," I say, moving with deliberate normality despite the fact that my body wants to leap, flip, and climb every surface. "I think I need some air. And food."
"I can prepare anything you'd like," he offers.
"Thanks, but I think I'll go out. Clear my head."
Bernard nods, though concern still lingers in his expression. "Your father called again. I informed him you were working on an important project as instructed."
"And?"
"He said, and I quote, 'Tell Harry to stop hiding from me. I expect him at the board meeting tomorrow morning, important project or not.'"
Of course. Norman wouldn't accept any excuse easily. But the board meeting could actually be useful—a chance to assess Oscorp's current projects and Norman's mental state firsthand.
"Tell him I'll be there," I say. "9 AM, right?"
Bernard seems relieved that I'm not fighting this battle. "Correct, sir. And if I may suggest, perhaps a visit to your tailor would be wise before tomorrow. You appear to have... developed somewhat since your last fitting."
I glance down at myself, realizing he's right. My clothes are tighter across the chest and shoulders. The spider bite has subtly reshaped my physique, adding lean muscle mass I didn't have before.
"Good idea. I'll handle it today."
As I head for the elevator, Bernard calls after me: "Mr. Osborn, your credit cards and ID are in the silver tray by the door. And might I suggest the Veselka on 2nd Avenue if you're particularly hungry? Their portions are quite generous."
I smile genuinely for the first time today. "Thanks, Bernard."
Outside, New York assaults my enhanced senses—a cacophony of sounds, smells, and movements that threatens to overwhelm me. Car horns two blocks away sound like they're right beside me. Conversations from across the street come through as clearly as if the speakers were whispering in my ear. I can smell every hot dog stand, every bakery, every garbage can.
I pause, leaning against the building, forcing myself to breathe deeply. Focus. Filter. Adjust. After a few minutes, my brain begins to sort the inputs, prioritizing what's important and relegating the rest to background noise.
Walking helps. I head toward 2nd Avenue, letting my body move on autopilot while my mind continues to process everything. By the time I reach Veselka, I've achieved a tentative balance with my new senses.
I order enough food for three people, ignoring the waitress's raised eyebrow. As I wait, I pull out my phone, searching for information on Oscorp's current board members and stock position. If I'm going to transform the company into my version of Wayne Enterprises, I need to understand what I'm working with.
The research confirms what I suspected: Norman's erratic behavior has made the board nervous. Oscorp stock has dipped 12% in the last quarter despite solid product performance. There are whispers of a leadership challenge, though no one has made an overt move yet.
My food arrives—a mountain of pierogi, goulash, and kielbasa that would have been impossible for me to finish before. Now, I devour it all, my enhanced metabolism burning through calories as quickly as I consume them.
As I eat, I consider tomorrow's board meeting. It's an opportunity to position myself, to begin laying groundwork for eventually taking control of Oscorp. Not a hostile takeover, but a gradual, calculated assumption of responsibility as Norman becomes increasingly unstable.
But first, I need to understand exactly what's happening with the Goblin formula—how far along it is, what effects it's having on Norman, whether there's any hope of stopping his transformation. That means access to his private lab, the one place in Oscorp I'm sure to be restricted from.
I need a plan. And equipment. And training.
I pay my bill and step back onto the street, my mind racing with possibilities. First stop: a private gym where I can test the limits of my new abilities without prying eyes. Then a visit to Oscorp's R&D department under the guise of "project research" to evaluate what resources I can access.
Tomorrow at the board meeting, Harry Osborn makes his first real appearance as more than just Norman's wayward son.
My phone buzzes with a text from Peter containing details about the quantum engineering presentation. I reply confirming I'll meet them there, adding it to my mental timeline.
Everything is happening quickly now.