Arc 6 - Ch 4: Interview

Chapter 71

Arc 6 - Ch 4: Interview

Date: Monday, June 13, 2011.

Location: Warren's Lab, Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, New York

Harry Osborne stepped into the secret lab of Dr. Miles Warren, located in an inconspicuous building in Brooklyn. Dr. Warren greeted Harry with a measured smile, "There's someone I want you to see, and perhaps meet if you're interested," he said, gesturing towards a one-way mirror.

Harry peered into the room, his gaze falling upon a young man, seemingly close to his age. The room was spartanly furnished, with a single bed and a small desk.

"What am I looking at?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

Dr. Warren cleared his throat. "This is my prototype creation. His name is Kaine. He is imperfect, scarred, and mentally troubled."

Harry nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Okay."

Dr. Warren led Harry down the hall to another room, where a pretty young woman sat, at a table working studiously. "This was my second attempt," Dr. Warren explained with a hint of pride in his voice. "She's perfect in almost every way. Due to issues in my first cloning attempt, I adjusted the sample chromosomes, so here we have a female clone instead of a male."

Harry studied the young woman through the glass, his mind racing to keep up with Warren's progress.

Dr. Warren continued, "I released them for an afternoon to see how they responded to being in the world with a little freedom."

Harry's head snapped towards Dr. Warren, his eyes widening. "Miles, I thought I told you to keep me in the loop," he interrupted, his tone sharp.

Dr. Warren's face fell, and he stammered an apology. "I'm sorry, Mr. Osborne. I didn't think two teenagers could get into much trouble in a single afternoon."

Harry sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "You know nothing about teenagers," he muttered. "So, what did they do?"

Dr. Warren shifted uncomfortably. "Well, there's something else. These are the clones I made using the sample of Spider-Man's DNA that you gave me."

Harry's displeasure was evident, his jaw clenching as he processed the information. Dr. Warren hastily explained, "The girl, she calls herself Jessica. She registered for classes at Empire State University in the fall. By her accounts, nothing remarkable happened."

"And the mentally unstable young man?" Harry prompted, his voice low and dangerous.

Dr. Warren looked nervous, his hands fidgeting with the tablet he held. "That is where the problem lies, sir," he admitted. He pulled up a news clip on the tablet, the image of J. Jonah Jameson appearing on the screen.

"I'm aware of Captain Stacy's death," Harry said tersely, recognizing the clip. He prompted the doctor to continue.

Dr. Warren's nervous energy was evident in his fidgeting hands and averted eyes. "Kaine came back extremely distraught after the incident. He claimed that unnamed others had forced him into the heinous act. After calming the unstable young man, I learned the full truth." Warren paused before admitting, "Kaine killed Captain Stacy and injured his daughter Gwen and another student, all while disguised as Spider-Man."

Harry's eyes widened fractionally in surprise. "Let me make sure I understand this correctly," he said slowly, his voice measured despite the dangerous glint in his eyes. "The clone you made of Spider-Man. Dressed up as Spider-Man, then he framed Spider-Man for the murder of a police captain?"

Dr. Warren nodded sadly, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Harry fought to hide the grin that threatened to spread across his face. The wheels in his mind turned, calculating the potential implications of this development. He schooled his features into a mask of concern, while internally, a sense of dark satisfaction began to take root. His ambition and desire for revenge against Spider-Man fueled his thoughts. Dr. Warren awaited Harry's reaction, believing his future hung in the balance. Meanwhile, Harry was realizing the true potential of Dr. Warren's creations. The imperfect clone, Kaine, was a powerful weapon against his nemesis.

He turned to Dr. Warren, "Miles," he said, "I believe we have much to discuss. Your work has opened up a world of possibilities, and I intend to seize every opportunity that presents itself. But first I want to speak with them."

Dr. Warren nodded, relief etched on his face.

Harry knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping against the smooth surface. He entered, his eyes immediately drawn to the young man who focused on him with an intense gaze.

"Harry?" Kaine asked, his voice laced with surprise.

Taken aback, Harry replied, "You know me?"

Kaine began mumbling, his words tumbling out in a disjointed stream. "Of course, you wouldn't recognize me, wouldn't know me. No one does."

Harry's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of Kaine's ramblings. "I know your name is Kaine," he said, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

Kaine was about to launch into a tirade, his frustration bubbling to the surface, but then he remembered something crucial. Harry was in charge of Oscorp. Dr. Warren must work for him. If he could get in Harry's good graces, perhaps Harry could help him. Maybe Harry would be different from the others, Peter and Tyson. Maybe Harry would be able to do what they couldn't.

Taking a deep breath, Kaine changed his demeanor. "I'm sorry if I've caused you trouble, Mr. Osborne," he said, his tone now pleasant and apologetic.

Harry recognized the shift in Kaine's behavior. Dr. Warren had warned him about Kaine's ability to act appropriately when he wanted something. Warren explained how Kaine had acted 'normal' to try to get released, and once he did, that's when he went after Captain Stacy dressed as Spider-Man.

Deciding to play along, Harry responded, "No trouble at all. I wanted to meet you and see if there was anything I could do for you."

"Oh, thank you. You're the first one who's treated me with any kind of decency," Kaine said, his voice filled with faux gratitude.

Harry nodded already working out how to turn this to his advantage. "What do you need, pal?" he asked trying to take on a friendly and accommodating tone.

Kaine's expression turned pained. "Something to make the pain stop. I'm always in pain," he confessed, his voice strained.

Harry's eyebrows raised in surprise. It was the first thing that Kaine had said that seemed genuine. "Dr. Warren hasn't given you anything?"

Kaine shook his head. "Over-the-counter stuff isn't enough. I'm still in pain all the time," he explained pleadingly.

Harry considered the request, his mind already formulating a plan. "Alright, I'll make sure you get something strong enough to take the edge off what you're feeling. I'll take care of it as soon as I leave here, making it my top priority, but I might need a little time to figure out what works for you," he assured Kaine, who nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features.

"That's fine. I've waited this long, a little more time isn't a problem," he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

"Can I ask you about what happened when you went out?" Harry asked, keeping his tone casual and non-judgmental.

Kaine's expression turned faux apologetic. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice was filled with regret, but it rang hollow.

Harry quickly reassured him. "I'm not here to chastise you. I'm just curious."

"Jessica said she was going to register for school, so I thought I'd visit the school. So I went to Midtown High," Kaine explained hesitantly.

"Why did you choose Midtown High?" Harry prompted, his mind already connecting the dots.

Kaine answered, "Because that's where we went to school."

Harry's breath hitched. Kaine had the memories of the blood sample he was cloned from. He had all the memories of Spider-Man, and Spider-Man had gone to Midtown High. This was Harry's chance to figure out the vigilante's identity.

Probing further, he asked, "Okay, so you went to Midtown High. Then what happened?"

Kaine's face contorted with anger. "I saw him, trying to steal our girl," he snarled.

Harry leaned forward, his curiosity intensifying. "Who?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Tyson!" Kaine exclaimed, his voice filled with rage and jealousy.

Harry considered Kaine's words carefully. Tyson was dating Felicia Hardy as far as he knew. So Kaine, or rather Spider-Man, had been someone who dated Felicia. But try as he might, Harry couldn't remember Felicia dating anyone from school recently besides maybe Tyson, but he was too big to be Spider-Man.

"So your girl was Felicia?" Harry asked, seeking clarification.

Kaine's face screwed up in confusion. "Felicia? No. Tyson already has his hooks in Felicia. But he's insatiable. I saw him making a move toward Gwen," he explained, his voice filled with bitterness.

Now it was Harry's turn to be confused. "Gwen? Gwen Stacy?" he asked, his mind spinning with the new information.

Kaine nodded enthusiastically, saying, "That's why I had to go see her. Had to make sure Tyson didn't get to her."

The pieces were falling into place for Harry. He asked, "So that's why you went to her house?"

Kaine confirmed, "Yes. And everything was going so well until Peter showed up. Then her father shot at me, so I hurt him. Peter made me. And I hurt Gwen too... But it was Peter's fault. So I hurt him. Then I brought Gwen to Tyson because I thought Tyson could help."

Harry's mind reeled from Kaine's word vomit. The information hardly made sense, but he tried to piece it together. "Slow down, buddy. It's okay," Harry said, his voice calm and reassuring. "So Peter showed up. Why was that a problem?"

Kaine said, "Because I was dressed as Spider-Man."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I understand, but why was that a problem."

Kaine's answer was simple, accompanied by a wicked smile. "Because Peter is Spider-Man."

Harry froze, his world tilting on its axis. It couldn't be. Peter Parker, his best friend since they were children... was Spider-Man? Peter had been the one who captured his father, along with Mirage, and both had been present for the disaster at the Stark Expo.

Shaking his head, Harry tried to process the revelation. "Okay, so Peter is Spider-Man. Now I understand. But I don't get one thing. If you thought Tyson was trying to steal Gwen, why bring her to his place?" he asked, trying to make sense of it all.

Kaine explained hurriedly, "Because Tyson has always been there for Peter. I thought he could help me. But he wasn't there, he didn't help. He must have been trying to set me up, he wanted to see Gwen hurt... so she'd turn to him, or something."

Harry pressed further, still not fully understanding Kaine's logic. "I get that he might be reliable, but why not bring Gwen to the hospital?"

Kaine's answer was resolute. "I brought her to Tyson because Tyson should've been able to help her best. He's a hero, after all."

For the second time in as many minutes, Harry froze. Tyson, a hero? Who... He thought of his wild hair, large frame, and his brown skin... Mirage. It was so obvious, how had he missed it? Tyson was Mirage. Peter and Tyson had worked together to put his father in jail. A mix of emotions swirled within Harry; betrayal, anger, confusion. But he couldn't let them show here. He needed to keep up the façade, to maintain the illusion of being Kaine's ally.

Harry turned to Kaine and pulled him into a tight hug. "Don't worry, buddy. Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to take care of you," he promised, his voice filled with a sincerity he didn't truly feel.

Kaine hugged Harry back, his voice filled with relief and gratitude. "At least I have one friend," he said, his words muffled against Harry's shoulder.

As they embraced, Harry's mind spun with the implications of Kaine's revelations. Peter Parker, his childhood friend, was Spider-Man. Tyson was Mirage. The two heroes who had played a role in his father's downfall were the same people he had once considered his friends. The betrayal cut deep, a wound that festered with each passing moment. But Harry knew he had to keep his emotions in check, to play the role of the caring and understanding friend. He needed Kaine on his side, needed the clone's trust and loyalty.

As he held Kaine, Harry was already formulating a plan. He would use Kaine to exact his revenge against Peter and Tyson. He would make them pay for their betrayal, for the pain they had caused him and his family. But first, he needed to gain Kaine's complete trust. He needed to show him that he was different from the others, that he was the only one who truly understood him and the only one he could trust.

"I'm here for you, Kaine. I'll make sure you get the help you need, the pain relief you deserve. And together, we'll figure out a way to make things right," Harry promised, his words dripping with false sincerity.

"Thank you, Harry. Thank you for being my friend," he whispered.

Harry smiled, "Of course," he said, his words like honey laced with poison.

He had been given a gift, a weapon in the form of Kaine, and he would use it to its fullest potential. The truth about Peter and Tyson had shattered Harry's world, but it had also given him a new purpose, a burning desire for revenge. With Kaine, he would make them pay for their betrayal.

After finishing reassuring Kaine, Harry left his room. The young CEO made his way back to Dr. Warren.

"So, what about the girl? Is she special?" Harry asked.

Dr. Warren's chest swelled with pride as he replied, "She's a perfect cloned specimen. Physically and intellectually she is in the upper percentile for young women her age."

Harry raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "That's it? Nothing special as far as abilities, no superpowers?"

Dr. Warren shook his head, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Not that she's exhibited. Maybe it's a side effect of the chromosome changes I made. Or something else, but she didn't seem to gain Spider-Man's powers."

"And her memories?" he asked, trying to calculate where she fit into his next moves.

"Somewhat," Dr. Warren replied, "She retained knowledge, but not memories. She's intelligent, exceptionally so."

A flicker of recognition crossed Harry's face. She was smart like Peter, but nothing else. The pieces of the puzzle and the plan slowly fell into place.

"So, something in the process wiped out her powers and memories, but left everything else intact and perfect," Harry mused. Dr. Warren nodded, his frustration evident. Harry leaned forward, fixing Dr. Warren with a piercing stare. "And you think that you've perfected the process?"

Dr. Warren straightened his posture, his voice filled with confidence. "I do. I'm ready for another trial. Male this time, since I'm not sure what went wrong with the female specimen. But I'm certain that I can create the perfect Spider-Man."

Harry's lips curled into a smile, a plan already forming in his mind. "Alright, Dr. Warren. We're going forward with this. But we're moving to a new location. I want that expedited. Bring Kaine with you, release Jessica."

Dr. Warren's eyes widened in surprise. "Release Jessica... why?" he asked, confusion etched on his face.

Harry's expression hardened, his voice taking on a cold, calculating edge. "She has no powers, so she's not useful or nearly as perfect as you claim. She's a liability. We don't need her seeing any other Oscorp employees and risking exposing us. Release her while she's ignorant. When she returns, this place will be empty, we will have moved on. She's pretty and smart, she'll get by just fine… Unless you want to dispose of her."

Dr. Warren hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between Harry and the door that led to Jessica's room as he grasped the implications of what Harry wanted. But as he met the CEO's unwavering gaze, he knew there was no room for argument. He nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly in resignation. "Alright," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, as if remembering his place, Dr. Warren stood up straighter, his voice taking on a more formal tone. "Yes sir, Mr. Osborne. I'll make the necessary preparations."

Harry nodded, a sense of satisfaction washing over him. He had the information he needed, and now it was time to set his plan into motion. His father languished in prison while Harry alone weathered the mounting pressures from the Oscorp board after the recent failure at the Stark Expo. But fortune's tide was turning at last. Now that he knew Peter Parker's and Tyson's secret identities as Spider-Man and Mirage, with Kaine under his command, opportunity beckoned. The bio-electric power plant Oscorp had developed, soon to undergo city review, would provide a direct counter to whatever technology Stark was developing in his new tower.

Despite the setback at the Stark Expo, Oscorp's future looked bright.

With his new assets, Harry felt confident he could finally enact the perfect plan to eliminate those who had wronged him. Somewhere out there, Peter and Tyson were going about their lives, oblivious to the storm about to descend upon them. But they would learn soon enough. They would know what it meant to cross Harry Osborne, to betray his trust. And by the time they realized the error of their ways, it would be too late.

Harry smiled a cruel, twisted expression that seemed to distort his handsome features. The game had changed, and Harry Osborne held all the cards. And he would play them with a cunning that would leave his enemies reeling in his wake.

— Rogue Replacement —

Date: Friday, June 24, 2011.

Location: Midtown Manhattan, New York

Tyson throttled the engine of his motorcycle as he sped uptown, in his Mirage costume. The early rush hour crowd was hampering his efforts, but he didn't rush. He didn't need to have Fury wondering why he was violating traffic laws so early. He had been in a transitional phase lately, dividing his time between the House of M and one of the Four Seasons' smaller, alternate suites. The temporary lodgings were still luxurious by most standards, just half the size of his usual sprawling accommodations. But the renovations on the Empire Suite would finally be finished later that afternoon, and he looked forward to settling back into the familiar space.

As he drove, his thoughts returned to Natasha's latest mission, the takeover plans being implemented for Trask Industries, and the nagging suspicion he still harbored about that mysterious new Spider-Man impostor who had popped up recently.

Tyson's contemplations were interrupted when he noticed a man standing in the middle of the busy street ahead. The man was bent at the waist, gathering large rolled diagrams that had fallen from his arms, oblivious to the danger as cars and trucks barreled past him on either side.

Acting quickly, Tyson summoned a squadron of illusory neon-vested Mirages wielding stop signs to block the traffic around the pedestrian. Tyson brought his motorcycle to a halt and dismounted, scooping up the last dropped documents and handing them back to their owner.

The man looked up, suddenly recognizing the illusions of Mirage protecting him from certain vehicular manslaughter. His eyes widened behind thick crooked glasses as the dangerous situation dawned on him. Tyson extended a steadying hand and guided the shaken man to the safety of the sidewalk, then dismissed his illusions allowing traffic to continue.

"You alright there, buddy?" Tyson asked, genuine concern evident in his mismatched blue and green eyes.

The man nodded mutely, still rattled by his near miss with oncoming traffic. When he found his voice, it came out high-pitched and quavering. "Yeah, thanks to you. I... I don't know what I was thinking. You saved my hide."

No longer in mortal danger, Tyson took in the man's appearance. His unfortunate combover did little to hide his encroaching baldness. Crooked glasses perched on his nose, and he wore a rumpled shirt sporting an askew ID badge. The name on the badge rang a bell in Tyson's head.

Maxwell Dillon.

Though the man's unassuming look hid it at first, the meta-knowledge in Tyson's mind, with the name printed on the ID, made the identity unmistakable.

Tyson quickly sorted through his memories of the man, "No problem, Max," Tyson said evenly. "Just be a little more careful next time."

Max started at the sound of his name. "You. I know you. You're that hero, Mirage. How did you know my name?"

"Must have been the mask that gave it away, huh? Your name is on your ID, bud," Mirage answered.

"I thought you only appeared when villains were around," Max said, "and to do those shows."

Mirage shrugged. "Today's a special occasion. I was invited to J. Jonah Jameson's morning show at the Daily Bugle. You were lucky I was on my way there..." He trailed off at the coincidence but maintained his smile. What were the odds that he would run into the man that would become Electro the morning he rides uptown? Tyson fought to maintain his friendly demeanor while considering how to approach this. If Tyson remembered correctly from the movie, Max wanted to be recognized above all else. He could do that.

Mirage straightened the glasses for Max, as the man's hands were full with the large blueprints he carried. "Alright, Max," Mirage said evenly. It looks like you're good to go. Just do me a favor and be more careful while crossing the street." He gestured to the other illusionary Mirages surrounding them and joked, "While it seems like I can be everywhere at once, I can't. It's only an illusion."

Max laughed, amused by the display of powers. Mirage chuckled at his joke before walking back over to his motorcycle. "It was nice to meet you, Max," Mirage said with a slight nod. Before the hero sped off, continuing his journey uptown, he looked back at the grateful man and said, "I'll be seeing you around. Check out The Daily Bugle this morning if you get a chance."

Max was left standing in the middle of the intersection. He mumbled in awe, "It was nice to meet me. A superhero said it was nice to meet me." A car beeped at Max then, breaking him from his musings. Shaken back to reality, Max hurried across the busy street, continuing to his workplace at Oscorp Tower, invigorated by the encounter. He speed-walked into the polished granite lobby with the oversized blueprints awkwardly cradled in his arms. His supervisor, Mr. Smythe, stood with arms crossed and foot tapping, his perpetual scowl displaying his irritation at Max's tardiness.

"You're late again, Max," Smythe snapped as Max approached.

"I know, I'm sorry," Max stammered, his cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment. "There was an incident on the way here, I got held up."

Mr. Smythe cut him off with a dismissive wave. "Save the excuses. Do you have the plans for the new power plant or not?"

Max swallowed hard, beads of nervous sweat gathering at his hairline. "Yes sir, right here," he said, hefting the cumbersome blueprints higher in his arms. "Just need to finalize a few details and then they'll be ready for review."

Smythe's scowl only deepened at this. "See that you do. The board is anxious to move forward after Octavius's failure." He turned sharply on his heel and strode away, expensive Italian loafers clicking on the polished floor.

Max sighed, feeling the weight of Oscorp's expectations bearing down. The new power plant was crucial for the company's expansion into energy, and the shadow cast by Dr. Otto Octavius's ruined demonstration still loomed large. The once-promising scientist had been disgraced after a catastrophic accident involving faulty containment fields during a public display of his fusion reactor. Though the ensuing destruction had been mitigated by the timely intervention of Spider-Man and Mirage, Octavius was still comatose.

Shifting the cumbersome blueprints, Max made for the elevator, a trickle of apprehension creeping down his spine. Though confident in his engineering skills, this project felt beyond him. The sheer scale and complexity were daunting, not to mention the pressure to deliver after Octavius's failure. And there had been no discussion of compensation or credit beyond his standard salary.

As the elevator ascended, Max's thoughts wandered back to the encounter with Mirage, the mysterious hero who had saved his life just minutes before.

What would Mirage think if he knew Max's role in these designs? Would he be impressed by the technical elegance, or disappointed to see Max simply enabling Oscorp's endless ambition?

With a shake of his head, Max tried to banish such doubts. He had a job to do and intended to see it through, no matter any misgivings. Stepping out on his floor, blueprints clutched tight to his chest, he felt a swell of happiness at having met a real hero who saw him, if only for a moment.

The glow of the computer monitor cast a pallid light across Max's office. Hunched over the massive desk, he studied the blueprints intently, bushy eyebrows knit together. The schematics for Oscorp's new power plant sprawled before him, weighing on his mind as heavily as his encounter with Mirage earlier that day.

Try as he might to focus on the designs, Max's thoughts kept wandering back to the mysterious hero. After all, it wasn't every day one met an extraordinary man who knew your name and saved your life. Max sighed and pushed away from the desk. He stood, blueprints clutched to his chest, and crossed over to the window overlooking the city. A break was in order.

Turning from the window, Max sat at his computer and navigated to thedailybugle.net. The livestream loaded, revealing the perpetually irate visage of J. Jonah Jameson. Though notorious for tirades against costumed heroes, particularly Spider-Man, he sat across from Mirage himself. Max's eyes widened at the sight of the black-clad man wearing a fox mask emerging onscreen. His mismatched eyes regarded the camera, the same eyes that had looked upon Max earlier that day.

Jonah Jameson, the brash and formidable editor-in-chief, sat poised behind his desk, papers neatly stacked before him. His trademark flat-top haircut, bushy mustache, and stern expression adorned his visage, signaling the no-nonsense conversation to come. Across from him sat Mirage, clad in a black costume with a fox half-mask. His mismatched eyes met the camera, the same eyes that had looked upon Max earlier that day.

Jameson opened with a pointed glance and commanding voice. "Good morning, New York! You're tuned to the Daily Bugle where truth isn't just a word, it's our mission. I'm your host, J. Jonah Jameson, and today we've got a guest who's been the talk of the city these past few months. Mirage."

Jameson turned, gaze sharp as he fixated on Mirage. "Mirage, you've been quite the spectacle in our city. Swooping in, stopping a threat, and then vanishing. The people of New York want to know, and it's my job to ask the tough questions. Who is Mirage? And more importantly, what's your stake in our city?"

Mirage seemed unmoved by the provocation. He leaned forward slightly, voice calm. "Mr. Jameson, I understand the skepticism. In a city that's seen everything, it's only natural to be skeptical of a guy walking around in a mask claiming to be a hero. As far as my stake... I live here too. You reported on my first appearance at the Brooklyn Bridge when the Lizard attacked. I was able to help because I was nearby, in Chinatown at the time. When the Green Goblin attacked at the Unity Day Parade I was there with my fellow New Yorkers. This city is my home, so I help protect it."

Jameson leaned forward, "Since you brought him up, let's talk about the Green Goblin. What is your vendetta against Oscorp? You took down Norman Osborn, commandeered their glider, and then dared to return it only when the Senate demanded. Not to mention the spectacle you made of Oscorp at the Stark Expo. Harry Osborn himself has accused you of harassment. What do you have to say to that, Mirage?"

Mirage sat calmly under the harsh lights of the studio, his masked face betraying no hint of unease at the accusatory questions. When he spoke, it was in a calm, measured tone that left little room for doubt.

"I don't harbor any personal grievances against the Osborns or Oscorp as an entity. It's crucial to distinguish between Norman Osborn, the man, and the monster he became. My confrontation was with the Green Goblin, not Norman." Mirage paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "Before his tragic transformation, I had the opportunity to meet Norman Osborn. Do you know what I thought of him? He was charismatic, gracious, and undeniably brilliant." Without pausing, Mirage continued, preempting any interruption from Jameson. "The decision to experiment with that serum was Norman's downfall, transforming him into the Green Goblin. That's the entity I was compelled to confront, not Norman himself." Mirage's voice was steady and sincere. "As for the glider, its capabilities were demonstrated to all of New York during Unity Day. Leaving such technology in the streets would have been irresponsible. Oscorp had already demonstrated its inability to secure it. In my hands, I knew it was safe. When the Senate issued their directive, I complied. I'm a New Yorker, an American. I respect the authority of our institutions. The glider's fate is now in Oscorp's hands. My only hope is that it doesn't find its way back onto our streets, causing more chaos."

Mirage continued, "My presence at the Stark Expo wasn't about targeting Oscorp or any other corporation. I was there, like many others, out of genuine interest in the advancements being showcased. I was at Dr. Octavius's presentation when things went south, and it was only right to step in. The same goes for the incident with Hammer Industries' drones. It wasn't about the spectacle or picking sides. It was about being there for the city when it mattered."

Mirage shifted slightly, his tone becoming more earnest, "And about Oscorp. I truly believe in the potential of their work. Despite their setbacks, the innovations coming out of Oscorp have been nothing short of revolutionary. The company's contributions to science, our city, and the world, shouldn't be overshadowed by a few unfortunate incidents. Had Dr. Octavious's experiment succeeded, or when Oscorp solves the issue of magnetic containment, harnessing nuclear fusion would solve the world's energy problems."

Leaning forward, Mirage's voice carried a note of sincerity, "Just this morning, on my way here, I had a chance encounter with an Oscorp engineer, Max Dillon. He is a great guy, passionate about his work. It's people like him who embody the spirit of Oscorp, dedicated individuals striving to make a difference. So, here's a shoutout to Max Dillon, I've got some VIP tickets reserved for you at House of M. And a note to the viewers, remember that behind these headlines are people, hard at work, pushing the boundaries of what's possible."

Max Dillon sat at his computer watching the live stream. Mirage's message extended beyond the studio to reach the people of the city, like himself. A superhero had acknowledged his contributions live on television. Max thought that he was invisible, but he wasn't. Mirage had seen him, and now people would know his name.

Jonah Jameson raised an eyebrow, the skepticism momentarily replaced by a flicker of surprise. Jameson leaned back in his chair, processing Mirage's words. His tone, when he spoke was a mix of grudging respect and his characteristic confrontational style. "Well, Mirage, that's quite the civic duty checklist you've got there. Helping out at the Stark Expo, Dr. Octavius's presentation, and the Hammer Industries debacle? It sounds like you were quite the busy bee. And that wasn't all. You stopped a monster rampaging in Harlem as well. We saw the footage, It was about to crush those soldiers when you intervened."

Mirage nodded in acknowledgment. "The situation in Harlem was dire, with the creature causing chaos and endangering lives," he said. "I have certain... advantages that most don't, but seeing those soldiers stand their ground against such overwhelming odds was truly inspiring. They're the real heroes, putting their lives on the line without hesitation. I was fortunate enough to be there in time to assist, and ensure their bravery wasn't in vain." Mirage paused, reflecting, before turning to address J. Jonah Jameson. "Working alongside law enforcement and federal agencies when the situation calls for it is something I take seriously. Cooperation can make all the difference in ensuring public safety and resolving crises efficiently."

Jameson pointed out, "This isn't the first time you've worked with the federal government. That's one of the reasons I invited you to the show. You're more than just a vigilante." He used the opening to segue into talking about Spider-Man. "You've been seen working with Spider-Man in the past, what do you have to say about the accusations that he was responsible for the death of NYPD Captain George Stacy?" Jameson continued.

Tyson's expression turned thoughtful as Jameson mentioned Spider-Man, and he considered his words carefully before responding. "Mr. Jameson, I'm glad you asked that question. I know you've been critical of how Spider-Man operates outside the law. But I know Spider-Man better than anyone. I've fought alongside him and shared meals with the guy. We even played basketball once. I can say without any doubt or hesitation that Spider-Man is good. He's only trying to help the people of New York. I saw him take down the Lizard, who stood over eight feet tall and could throw cars off the road. But I've also seen him stop to help a bullied kid repair his broken science project, and help elderly ladies cross the street. These aren't publicity stunts. Spider-Man is just that good of a guy."

Mirage took a deep breath before continuing. "Regarding the incident with Captain Stacy, it's a complex situation. The dynamics in cases like these are never black-and-white, and it's important to consider the full context. Accusations are easy to make, but loss of life is always tragic, and my heart goes out to the Captain's family." Fixing his gaze on the camera, Mirage said, "I want everyone in New York to hear this. I spoke with Spider-Man after Captain Stacy died, as well as the member of the Stacy family who was present during the incident, and I'm certain he wasn't involved in harming the officer. But I understand why some assumed he was. There's an imposter posing as Spider-Man out there. It was this imposter who killed Captain Stacy."

Jonah Jameson's brow furrowed as he scrutinized Mirage from across his large mahogany desk. "You expect us to believe there's an imposter, going around dressed as Spider-Man committing crimes? Instead of the simpler answer that it's just Spider-Man doing these things?"

Mirage met Jameson's skeptical gaze steadily, his voice firm. "You're a seasoned journalist, Mr. Jameson. You know the value of examining the facts. Spider-Man has been a fixture in this city since late last year. In all that time, his actions have consistently defended the city's people against criminal activities. There's not one verified instance of him crossing the line into brutality. Now, suddenly, we're seeing a shift in that pattern. It's not just unlikely. It's out of character." He paused, allowing the weight of his argument to sink in before addressing Jameson's skepticism. "I understand skepticism; it's healthy, especially in your profession. Consider their behavior when distinguishing between the real Spider-Man and an imposter. Spider-Man is known for his light-hearted banter, his willingness to go out of his way to help, and his restraint. This imposter displays more aggressive behavior." Leaning forward in his chair, Mirage spoke directly to the camera and audience beyond. "To the people of New York, if you encounter Spider-Man and he's unnecessarily aggressive or brutal, exercise caution. The best course of action is to stay safe and report the sighting. I've set up a line at the House of M for any information on this imposter. We're doing our best, but community vigilance can make a significant difference. Let's work together to ensure the safety of our streets."

"Let's talk about you then," Jameson said, his voice dripping with anticipation. He paused for dramatic effect, his eyes locked on Mirage. "What about the rumors of a budding romance between you and the so-called imposter Spider-Man?"

Mirage's mismatched eyes widened slightly behind his mask, a flicker of confusion passing across his face. For a moment, he seemed caught off guard by the unexpected question.

"Not sure what kind of fanfiction your audience is reporting," Mirage replied, his voice tinged with amusement. "While I consider myself an ally of the LGBT+ community. I'm not gay."

Jameson's grin widened, and he reached for something on his desk. With a flourish, he held up a photograph, angling it so Mirage and the camera could see it.

"Oh," Mirage said, genuine surprise evident in his voice. The photograph showed a clear image of a female Spider-Man, her suit unmistakably similar to the original but with subtle differences that highlighted a feminine form. "Well, that's new."

Mirage leaned forward, studying the image more closely. This was not the imposter he'd seen in Peter's memories. Could it be Cindy Moon? The hair was close to the right length, but it was brown, not Cindy's black. From the picture's angle, it was hard to determine if she was Asian, but it was possible.

"Photoshopped maybe?" he mused aloud. "When I spoke with Spider-Man, he was certain the imposter was a man, not a woman." He paused, considering his words carefully. "If this picture is real, it's the first I'm seeing of her. But I can't speak to its validity."

Jameson set the photograph down on his desk, his eyes narrowing. "One of my newest independent photographers provided this. I can confirm it's real. And yet, you expect us to believe that you, with all your supposed insider knowledge, had no idea about this female Spider-Man?"

Mirage leaned back in his chair. "If I knew about this female Spider-Man, I would say so. The fact is, I don't."

Jameson scoffed, clearly not entirely convinced. "And what about the romance rumors? You didn't exactly deny them."

Mirage chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Mr. Jameson, we both know that rumors are just that. Rumors. I can assure you that I've yet to meet a female Spider-Man. Spider-Woman. Spider-Girl, or whatever name she decides to go by." He paused, his tone becoming more serious. "What's important here isn't gossip or speculation. It's the safety of New York's citizens. We have confirmed reports of one Spider-Man imposter who has committed violent acts. Now we potentially have another individual in a Spider-Man costume," then his tone softened, "To this Spider… Woman, if you're willing, I'd like to meet you. I'm pretty easy to find. But to the people of New York, until we know more, I advise caution."

"Fair enough." Jameson nodded grudgingly, recognizing the shift in tone. "Can we all take your evasions as confirmation that you're single at least? You did just ask for Spider-Woman's number on television."

Tyson laughed, replying, "Despite my best efforts. I've been unable to hold down a girlfriend."

"Tragic," Jameson said dryly. "Let's shift gears a little. During the Senate hearing, you said you were a mutant. Most of us thought mutants were just a myth. Why are you pushing the mutant agenda on the rest of us?"

Mirage met Jameson's challenging gaze steadily, his voice calm and unwavering. "Mr. Jameson, I don't know much about a mutant agenda. One thing that I do know is that I've learned in school that different groups that are labeled as 'others' end up as disenfranchised at best, or enslaved or genocided at worst. This has happened throughout human history." He paused as if considering his next words carefully. "In this country alone, we can look at slavery, the decimation and relocation of Indigenous peoples, Jim Crow laws, Asian internment during World War Two, and even as recently as the issues with border control, immigration, and discrimination faced by Muslim Americans."

Mirage's voice grew somber as he continued, "I'll leave the debate on whether mutants are a genetic abnormality, evolution, an act of God, or Lucifer to the scientists and theologians. But the social ramifications are clear. If people begin to look at mutants as the 'others' or their enemies, then history says it'll lead to misery for mutants everywhere. And I don't want to see that happen."

Jameson's bushy brows drew together, his expression shifting as he considered Mirage's words. "So, you're saying that you're coming forward as a mutant to prevent discrimination and violence against your kind?"

"That's part of it. But it's also about dispelling the myths and misconceptions surrounding mutants. We're not monsters or freaks. We're just people, with different abilities. Some may look different, but we deserve the same rights and opportunities as everyone else."

Jameson remained silent for a moment, his fingers drumming on the desktop. When he spoke again, his voice regained its aggressive edge. "But what about the dangers?" He jabbed a finger at Mirage. "What about the potential for mutants to misuse their powers? How can we be sure that you won't turn against us?"

Mirage's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice hardening in response to the accusation. "Mr. Jameson, that's exactly the kind of language we're hoping to avoid. You versus Us. I understand your concerns. But let me assure you, not all mutants are villains. Most mutants are like everyone else and want to live their lives in peace." He leaned forward, his gaze locking with Jameson's. "And as for the potential for misuse of powers. Any man can misuse his power, we see it regularly in this country. Someone grabs a gun and goes on a shooting spree."

Mirage's sincerity was evident, but Jameson remained unconvinced. The old newsman grunted, distrustful of the young mutant's words despite their earnest delivery.

Jameson latched onto something Mirage had said earlier, his eyes gleaming with renewed interest. "Let's rewind. During the Senate hearing you claimed you were only seventeen years old," he stated, his voice taking on an accusatory tone. "Earlier this year, we reported when The Lizard attacked Midtown High. You were seen by students there fighting the creature, arriving even before police and other emergency responders. Can we assume you're a student there?"

Mirage's eyes narrowed slightly, his lips tightening into a thin line. "I appreciate investigative journalism, Mr. Jameson, but announcing I'm a student at a local high school paints a target on that school and puts its students at risk. You won't put innocent kids in danger for a story."

Jameson rolled his eyes dismissively. "Fine, fine," he grumbled. "Tell us about the Lizard then. What happened to it?"

Mirage's expression softened, the tension easing from his shoulders. He saw an opportunity to reassure the city. "I'm sure you and the city have noticed the Lizard hasn't been seen since the incident at Midtown High," he began, his voice steady and calming. "Rest easy, New York. The Lizard won't be making another appearance."

Jameson's skepticism was evident as his eyebrows shot up. "Did you kill it?" he demanded, accusation lacing his tone.

Mirage merely smiled, a slight, enigmatic curve of his lips. "No, nothing like that," he replied lightly, dismissively. "I just gave it a stern talking to."

Jameson's eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in disbelief. "A stern talking to?" he echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's it? You just chatted with a giant, rampaging reptile and it decided to turn over a new leaf?"

Mirage's smile widened, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Let's just say I made it clear its days of terrorizing the city were over."

Jameson shook his head, still unconvinced. "I don't believe you," he scoffed. "There's no way you could've stopped the Lizard without a fight."

Mirage shrugged nonchalantly. "I have my ways," he said. "I have a unique way of explaining things in ways others can't." His voice was firm. "Trust me, Mr. Jameson, the Lizard is no longer a threat to this city."

Jameson's lips tightened into a thin line. He knew when he was being stonewalled and he didn't like it. With a resigned sigh, he leaned back in his chair. "Fine," he muttered, his voice resigned. "We'll leave it at that. But I'll be keeping an eye on you, Mirage."

Mirage merely smiled, his expression enigmatic. "I'm sure you will, Mr. Jameson," he replied, amusement lacing his tone. "I'm sure you will."