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Spider-Man: A New Spiral

It's an idiot's dream come true, I'm Spider-Man. So if life is a game, play it beautifully. Spider-Man (1994), Marvel Comics, The Amazing Spider-Man / The New Adventures of Spider-Man, The New Spider-Man, The Amazing Spider-Man, The Amazing Spider-Man, The Amazing Spider-Man (crossover) Love Interest: Peter Benjamin Parker (Spider-Man)/Mary-Jane Watson (MJ)/Felicia Sarah Hardy (Black Cat) Subscribe at patreon.com/FanFictionPremium. With advanced chapters, an extra chapter in your honour.

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Reflections

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***

Peter Parker's house.

Evening.

- Take it easy, kid, relax," the spy said in a neutral tone.

- What makes you think I'm agitated?

- The unknown man in your house. And also a tense body and an elevated temperature. Of course, I'm in reasonable fear for my life," the Shield Director explains with a slight chuckle. - And I wouldn't want to get in the hot hand, after all, you can break through a concrete wall.

- I don't know what you're talking about," I glare at him.

Fury's getting serious.

- Let's not get comedic, Spider-Man.

- Looks like you've got the wrong house after all," I try to speak casually, but the gears are spinning feverishly in my head.

"They know!" "Of course they know, fucking Shield!".

"How much?"

"Do they know about Rukt?"

"If so, it's bad."

"Though they can blackmail me with the mere fact of their knowledge."

Outwardly I try to remain calm.

- No, I'm not wrong," the man began to move closer.

I, on the other hand, retreated a few steps.

- Look, kid, I'm not the enemy," the agent says with a slight sigh.

- You made your assumption to get a certain reaction out of me, and I can deduce that my house is bugged and recorded. So I think I'll wait for you to leave.

To my surprise, Nick laughed only a little, and a spark of excitement flashed in his eye.

- Not bad, kid, not many people think about such things.

The man walked to the table and picked up one of the folders containing his father's notes.

- Fascinating reading, who's the author?

- A good scientist," I folded my arms across my chest.

My companion only smirks.

- Look, let me put it this way," the man pulled his hand into the inner pocket of his cloak, watching me carefully.

My gut was silent, so I didn't react at all.

Fury pulled out a small device that looked like an air conditioner remote. The agent tossed the mechanism to me.

Catching the device, I began to examine it. Nothing remarkable, a grey body, a blue light and a button in the middle.

- What is it?

- Portable EMP generator. Developed by the Shield's labs. Press it and all equipment within a fifteen metre radius will burn up, and the ionised radiation will interfere for hours, in case you think we're being bugged from the roof of a building ten kilometres away.

I'm looking at the device.

- Can you press it?

Sighing heavily.

Okay, there's really no point in denying it.

- I believe you. How long have you been following me?

- We started about six months after you hit the streets," the agent said in a satisfied tone. - No offence, but you're nowhere near as big a target for my organisation.

- And yet here you are.

- Right," Fury sighed. - 'The world is changing, which is why, as director of an international security agency, I've decided to organise a special squad of superhumans.

"The Avengers Initiative."

"Does he really want to call me out!" 

- But for now, this project is in development. Until then, Shield has candidates for a team of recruits that the organisation will send on missions against super criminals and other threats.

"Eeeeeeeeeeee not an Avenger."

- What does this have to do with me?

- I chose you based on several factors. Some of which you confirmed during our dialogue. It's a chance, Peter, a chance to be not just a "Friendly Neighbour", but to be an Enhanced Spider-Man.

What a motivational speech.

- I need to think about it.

- It's up to you," Fury pulled a red watch out of his pocket, "this is a communicator, when you think of it, contact us.

I took the object.

Nick walked past and a few seconds later I heard the sound of the door closing.

I wait ten minutes and leave the house.

I walk down the street and move towards a familiar back alley. Just in case, I concentrate as much as possible and listen to the emanations of spider-sense.

I can't believe Fury hasn't put a tail on me.

Or maybe it's time for me to squash my own paranoia....da no, nonsense.

I pass the small courtyard nooks and enter one of the most, as strange as it sounds, safe back alleys in Forest Hills. The main advantage is visibility. One side entrance, three brick walls. No way out unless you can fly or crawl through walls.

I wait a few dozen minutes. No one.

I jump on the wall and climb to the roof. In the shadow of the water tower, I put on my uniform.

The web habitually flies smoothly out of the web shooters and the Spider flies around the night city again.

I didn't sense any surveillance, though I tried to set my gut to dislike Shield agents.

It's not worth resolving my issues with the Syndicate just yet, so Mr Lincoln will have to wait.

I'm flying towards one of my safe houses.

I pass the Manhattan Bridge and land on a gothic high-rise. One of the few buildings in modern New York decorated with gargoyles and which is on my route. This is where I keep my spare civilian clothes, as the local water tower has been dismantled. All that's left is the frame and no water.

Perfect storage space.

Checking the bundle of clothes.

It's intact.

At first I'd planned to leave Rukt's suit here too, but I shouldn't put all my eggs in one basket. After all, the idea of making a few small shelters in the city for all occasions has been looming in my mind for a long time.

I go down to the roof and pull out the communicator Fury left behind.

Until I figure it out, it's worth keeping this thing here, I'm sure the beacon in the watch comes with it.

I hop up to the bottom of the tower and, after changing the cartridge of quick-dissolving webbing to a long-dissolving one, I stick the watch to the tower.

Until better times.

I leave the roof with a sense of accomplishment.

***

Oscorp Labs.

Late afternoon.

Norman Osborne.

Norman was furious. The normally cold-blooded businessman was fierce at the moment and couldn't hold his temper.

He wanted to tear up.

For a moment, Ozborn wondered if it was the effects of experimenting with his own body. But that wasn't important at the moment.

What was important was that the director of a multi-billion dollar corporation was beginning to feel the pressure of his own ambition.

From childhood, Norman's father prepared him for success, instilled the qualities necessary for a manager and a winner. For his own purposes, Amberson Osborne used the most brutal methods.

Monolithic, earnest, strong-willed and ruthless, Norman still recalls with a shudder the days when his father would lock him in a foreclosed emergency building, leaving his son in total darkness.

"You're a man, Norman, so don't you dare roar!"

His father's formidable commands still give goosebumps in Osborne's mind. But Norman was still grateful to him for something.

Inhuman methods of the bastard were able to bring up in Osborne such necessary qualities as iron will and a heart of stone. It was thanks to them that the man was able to develop his own genius and become not just a successful businessman, but also an outstanding scientist, manager and manipulator.

It was developed ambitions that made Norman take such risks and try to succeed in different spheres: business, politics, building his own hidden empire, through the resources of Oscorp, and, of course, occupying a niche in the echelon of criminal organisations.

All of these endeavours were for two things.

Power and authority.

Nothing but these interested Norman, for he was forged for greatness.

But now the far-reaching plans were in jeopardy.

Co-operation with Tombstone was on the verge of collapse, for the Big Boss was suddenly no longer interested in the super-criminals Norman had created, and so Ozbourne himself was on the reserve.

On top of that, recent blunders in his own experiments. Failure with the Hadron Collider, because of a brainless idiot who fell into it and decided it was a good idea to hide from the police at the testing grounds for the latest scientific developments.

No wonder the perpetrator was split in silicon grains of sand. Serves him right.

It gets worse.

The idiot Orn fails again, Octavius wakes up and his recovery centre is exposed. Now we'll have to deal with an investigation and questions like, "How do you explain, Mr Osborne, how your corporation's multi-million dollar equipment ended up in a homeless shelter?".

Let's hope standard police procedures will suffice. And Otto remains to be dealt with. False evidence of Octavius' work for Oscorp is ready, as well as the circumstances that led to the poor scientist's tragedy. This is where the figure of Dr Orn comes in handy.

He has failed Norman for the last time.

But other business must now be attended to.

Osborne put on his lab coat and went to the private laboratory of the largest branch of his company, the one closest to his office. No one has access to this room.

The room was equipped with the most modern means of protection: titanium reinforced sashes framing tempered glass, an impregnable door opening into a fifteen-metre corridor, electrical cables to the slabs, and if Ozborn had not prudently disconnected the protection, he would be a charred corpse. If someone decided to use the ceiling to get past the floor trap, and after the appearance of one arachnid Norman had thought of modifications, then automatic machine guns would come out of the flaps. There were even measures in place in case heat signatures were detected in the corridor but there was no pressure on any of the surfaces, in that situation an anaesthetic gas without colour or smell would be sprayed. The final obstacle before entering the lab.

The entrance itself is protected by a palm print scanner, a retina scanner, voice verification, and a special password. If the combination of checks is not deactivated in the correct order, an alarm will be triggered, the entire room will be sealed and a sedative gas will be released.

These measures were not designed out of idleness.

After opening all the locks, Norman entered the private laboratory that protected his most personal projects.

On the desks were cybernetic developments left by the owner of the room. On the computer monitors flashed graphs, formulas and mathematical calculations. In the centre of the room, a glass chamber glowed with a light emerald glow.

Osborn walked over to the monitor and opened the folders containing the calculations of his pride, the OZ Serum.

Norman had started developing it years ago. How surprised he was when, six months into his research, the previously not-so-well-known scientists Richard and Mary Parker expressed a desire to join him in his lab and help him with his experiments.

Norman, usually cold, quickly became attached to Richard and his wife. Parker knew how to get people to himself, as he had a companionable character, especially surprised by his scientific talent.

Because of this betrayal of friends was a terrible and unexpected blow. Another lesson of fate that in this life you can only rely on yourself.

Norman had learnt his lesson.

That's why the Parkers met their end. No-one dares betray Norman Osborne and get away with it.

And yet the interference of former friends slowed Norman's work for a long time. In those days, the scientist was so crushed by defeat that he withdrew from experiments and engaged in discoveries in the field of cybernetics. One of these was the flying machine, the Glider.

But as time went on, the decision to continue the fight prevailed.

And now, after all these years, he is closer than ever to success.

Such was able to provide him with a third-party development Oscorp, although his scientific staff states that this is the primary discovery, on which all resources are directed - "Green Globulin".

The effects of this serum did not particularly impress Norman. "OZ" gave the recipient far greater possibilities. But it was in the side effects that was the answer. Globulin gave the subject super strength, endurance, powerful regeneration, but at the same time it affected the mind, and in especially high doses it plunged him into the abysses of madness.

The OZ serum made the test subject....potentially immortal. For its regenerative properties were astonishing. The drug itself was a kind of re-drug, changing the genetic structure of a person, and therefore it was impossible to suppose what it would do to the organism, whether it would transfer its amazing properties to the test subject or destroy him.

At least none of the test subjects managed to survive the drug.

But now Globulin had been developed.

Norman was always studying the created drugs, especially carefully comparing them with OZ.

And finally, success!

The serums complemented each other perfectly.

The globulin was able to stabilise the chaotic effects of the OZ, and Norman's development, in turn, offset the mind-affecting effects of the Green.

Only in theory.

Osborne became angry and swept up the reports on the table.

It was always guesswork!

He wished he could inject himself with those serums right now and not care about the consequences!

But he couldn't.

Taking a breath, the scientist collapsed into his computer chair.

Too much was at stake, and he couldn't let his impatience spoil his plans.

Such outbursts were atypical of Norman. Until now.

After a series of setbacks, Osborne still couldn't take it. After the Rhinoceros debacle, Norman began exposing his body to Green Globulin. In gas form, of course, but he's not an idiot. The substance strengthened his body, gave him amazing physical strength and accelerated his body's ability to regenerate.

Alas, due to the low dosage, it had a temporary effect. Two or three days and the abilities disappeared, but the effect on the mind, no.

So far, they've only been emotional outbursts, but what next?

Still, he has to take the risk. In a week's time there would be an opening of medical centres under the patronage of Oscorp. Wilson Fisk was the main "sponsor".

Norman smirked.

'If unequivocal threats can be called co-operation.' It was because Tombstone was more restrained, despite his notoriety as an executioner, that Osborn had staked his claim on him. Fisk, on the other hand, was overconfident and quick on the uptake, hard to work with without becoming a six.

But that's what Norman's counting on. If everything goes as it should, then from any outcome Osborne will benefit.

With these thoughts, the man began to adjust the glass camera.

It was time for the Green Goblin to take the stage.