Miles Morales: New Spider Chapter 16

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Jennifer Walters had hit the ground running on the case, and things escalated quickly. Oscorp was knee-deep in lawsuits and legal battles, and there were whispers about the board ousting Norman Osborn and rebranding the company. They were doing their best to pin everything on him, and in the chaos, slipping into Oscorp wasn’t hard.

But finding their secret facilities? That was a nightmare.

My microbots were crucial. I had them tag a few scientists who were known to dabble in morally grey projects, but never caught in the act. They led me straight to the hidden labs.

I had already secured their research on the Oz Formula. A mess of the super-soldier serum, Hulk blood, and gamma rays, it wasn’t even perfected. Using it turned you into a disfigured Hulk knock-off. At least, that’s what Norman wanted people to believe.

There was another serum, hidden away. Only a chosen few knew about it. Years of work had gone into it, and by sheer luck, I followed the right scientist to uncover it.

Today, the board was set to meet with Norman to discuss next steps. I stayed in camo mode, waiting for the right moment. As soon as Norman left, I got to work. Neutralizing the scientists was a breeze—almost too easy.

Standing before the real Oz Formula, I marveled at the cyan glow of the fluid in its sealed glass canister. I took it and safely stowed it on me, then altered the chemical composition in their system, synthesizing a flawed version. I wiped all data on the original files and planted a virus I called *The Plague*.

The Plague would spread like wildfire, erasing and corrupting data, rendering everything useless. If anyone tried to access those files, the virus would infiltrate their systems. Its second purpose? Skimming money from Oscorp. I know, it's questionable, but I’m putting the money to good use—compensating affected families, funding my own plans. Being a hero doesn’t come cheap.

I’d already gathered enough video evidence to expose their illegal experiments. The non-human test subjects never survived more than a week. Only two spiders had lived past that time—one bit Peter Parker, and the other? It’s mine now.

'Karma’s a bitch.'

Norman hadn’t used the real Oz Formula yet. He had plans to create an army of super-soldiers for world domination—the typical evil genius move. The real formula included something called Isotope 1, which nudged evolution forward just enough. You wouldn’t become a god, but you’d gain intelligence, longevity (up to 200 years), and your body would be rid of defects. Blindness? Gone. Cancer? Cured. Sickle cell? Gone.

The downside? The formula had a 69% mortality rate. If your cells couldn’t handle it, it spread like cancer, causing cellular degeneration and killing you painfully within days. No wonder Norman hadn’t taken the plunge. He wanted to perfect it, control it.

But that was Norman’s fatal flaw—obsession with control.

Four hours passed since Norman went into his meeting. I kept reapplying webs to the scientists to keep them contained. I was just about to leave when the sliding doors opened.

Norman stormed in, his face a twisted mask of rage. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide as he took in the restrained scientists. He didn’t even bother checking on them; his focus was on the serum.

“Is the serum safe?!” He ran to the storage unit, cradling the canister that now held the flawed version.

“Sir, we were attacked!” one of the scientists tried to explain, but Norman wasn’t listening.

“HYDRA betrayed me! You led them here! You all betrayed me!” His voice was hysterical, consumed by paranoia.

'The meeting didn’t go well,' I thought.

Norman grabbed a syringe, attached it to the serum, and without hesitation, injected himself.

“NO, sir, don’t—!” The scientist’s plea was cut short.

Norman screamed, collapsing into a fetal position as his body began to change. His skin turned green, muscles expanded grotesquely, and two horns sprouted from his forehead. He staggered to his feet, now a hulking seven-foot monster. His muscles bulged unnaturally, saliva dripped from his elongated tongue, and his fists were the size of bowling balls.

The scientists' horror-stricken faces mirrored the dread I felt. Norman—no, the *Green Goblin*—looked at them with a vicious grin before pouncing.

“AAAHHH!” The lab filled with screams as he tore them apart. Limbs, guts, and blood painted the white walls red.

I moved. Crawling on the ceiling, I made my way out. The serum should have killed him by now, but pure rage seemed to be holding his body together. The gamma radiation was stabilizing him, but where had he been exposed?

'Focus, Miles.'

Norman’s massacre wasn’t done. As the board of directors and their guards entered the lab, unaware of what had transpired, they were met with Norman’s monstrous form.

“Norman, this is just business, nothing personal,” one of them said, trying to keep the peace.

They had no idea what was coming.

“Norman, what are you—"

It was too late. The Green Goblin ripped through them like paper. The guards didn’t stand a chance.

He burst through the exit, sending glass shards raining down on the news reporters outside. Panic ensued as they scrambled to get away.

I had to act. “Hey, pick on someone your own size!”

I shot a web at his back, using all my strength to swing him toward the park. He crashed to the ground, but got up just in time for a car to slam into him.

For a moment, I hoped that was it. But then a green, clawed hand punched through the wreckage.

'I really should consider swords.'

He stood, locking eyes with me—pure rage burning in his green eyes. This was going to be a fight for my life.

I reloaded my web shooters, tossing a smoke bomb to obscure myself, and went into camo mode. I grabbed his neck and delivered a venom strike, but he retaliated with terrifying speed, slamming me hard enough to break some ribs.

Pain shot through me, but I had no time to rest. I swung to a tree just as the Goblin landed where I had been seconds before.

“RAAAGHH!” He roared, tearing off the webs I shot at him.

I used my golden-graphene webs, shooting the entire cartridge at his legs. It slowed him down, just enough for me to strike him with a park bench, pushing him back.

“RAAAGHHH!” He roared again, ripping at the webs, and in the moment I tried for another venom strike, he caught my arm.

The pain was immediate. He slammed me to the ground, knocking the wind out of me, then again, breaking my arm. Tossing me aside like a ragdoll, I lay there, bleeding, broken, and barely able to move.

My enhancements kicked in, trying to heal the damage, but I was exhausted. The Goblin was busy tearing at the webbing, giving me a moment to catch my breath.

'GET UP!'

I forced myself awake, the pain still there, but manageable.

'Do you want to die again?'

"Hell no."

With renewed determination, I prepared for the final round.